Where's Your Honour?

Posted on 03/05/2022 @ 8:49am by Commander Aer Feshau-Patton
Edited on on 03/05/2022 @ 11:27am

1,734 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Mini Mission: Lighting Up Shadows
Location: Cargo Bay, Deck 175-A
Timeline: During 'When The Cat's Away' Mission

A tip. A possibility. A potential link.

This is what Aer had received through an anonymous source. The above being all that it was at this stage. A tip of something going down on the lower decks of the station, something seedy and dark as was often the way in these parts.

Don’t let anyone kid you, a station is like a large city and every city has its dark corners that even the bravest security officer won't go by themselves. Truthfully they cannot know about everything that goes on, and would they even want too if they had the chance? How much chaos would having ALL the information cause?

Starfleet would have a meltdown if they did. Little Admiral heads popping like popcorn kernels in the replicator.

Aer had been sitting at home quite happily reading a book and debating whether or not to go and see one of her Guardians, Zaos Orihana. She had heard he was on the station but hadn’t gone to see him yet and vice versa. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, there was just never a big rush with El Aurians.

A small noise, a notification. All this came whilst she was engrossed in reading The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. With a huff and puff she placed the book face down on the glass table next to her so that her place would not be lost and made her way to the desk.

The desk bio-scanned her and approved access as she then cast her right hand up to bring up the holo-display.

‘Want to know a secret?’ is how it began and Aer had to admit through a frowning brow that she was intrigued by it.

‘Want to know a secret?

Tonight. 0100 hours, Deck 175-A-32.

I’d come alone, any company would be noisy.’

That was it. The only words sent and it was done through an expertly channelled bunch of routes. So much so that it took Aer over an hour to find out it had been sent from a fabrication bay that would prove to be no help.

Looking over at the clock in her quarters she noted the time was 2108, so she had time to prepare, scout the area and maybe lie in wait for whatever was to come.

- Fast Forward 4 hours -

As it turns out Deck 175-A-32 is a cargo bay, a barely used and musty smelling one at that.

From what Aer could tell from her entry a few hours ago there wasn’t a lot going on in there. Mainly used for parts storage for the station as she had seen engineering and science equipment nearby. The deck itself was deathly silent, the odd technician roamed the halls but really it was a zone not frequented by many unless they needed to.

The lower decks had a reputation for being more dangerous. The forgotten zones of a large Cardassian built station that had more hidey holes and blind spots than you could imagine. Aer did think that it would be a perfect place to conduct illicit business but she was still no further forward as to what was going on, or who had sent her the message to bring her here.

Of course she was no naïve cadet. She’d brought protection in the way of her close combat knives and phaser pistol. These types of situations were usually surveillance and nothing more, gathering information to act at a later date. However, if something should be extreme or needs immediate intervention then Aer would have to act. She was hoping this would be a reconnaissance mission and nothing more. Her camera was ready for action more than her knives.

She had also opted to wear rather more comfortable clothing. Usually on these types of occasions the darker the better so she had a black tank top with leather jacket on top and black trousers with matching shoes.

There was a small clinking noise, much like glass bottles rolling along an uneven ground. The small humming of the transporter coming into life as crates began to appear. There was a quiet whisper slowly becoming louder as voices came into play.

Aer got her camera ready, taking pictures of the crates and trying to get an angle on what they were.

“I think you will find these quite pleasing. By far these are the best on the market so far, and the good thing is on a station this size that by the time Starfleet notices they are missing you will be long gone.” Spoke a Human as they came into view. “Your boss should be very pleased.”

“Do they possess the ability to track the weapons?” A much deeper, rougher sounding voice asked as mere seconds later a gargantuan Klingon appeared. Again Aer took some images of them for later.

“They would have, but I have removed the serial chip. They still show as Starfleet, have their signature but cannot be tracked through sensor scans. You’d need physical evidence to pin them back to you or I.” The Human spoke smugly.

“Good.” the Klingon spoke gruffly. “I’d hate to have to kill a perfectly good smuggler, although you are easy to find. Humans are everywhere these days.” he spat.

The disdain, hatred for the Human race was very evident in how the Klingon spoke. It did make Aer wonder what their plans were for these weapons.

“What do you plan to do with them?” The Human asked.

“We plan to distabilise the hold Starfleet has in this sector. A few well timed raids and planting of Starfleet equipment should be enough to start. The torpedoes you have already gotten us are being put to good use.” The Klingon grinned.

Aer frowned. She wanted to know what Klingon House they belonged to, and knew that some Houses did not favour the alliance still. Not only that, Aer found it strange they were spilling their plans to the Human smuggler. They did not do anything like that without good reason.

“That is why my price has gone up. Always glad to be of service to House J—”

The swinging, almost singing, noise of a bat’leth filled the air followed by a slicing noise. Embedded in the man's neck, the bat’leth shone in what little light the cargo bay gave. A swift pull back and the weapon was removed and the smuggler dropped.

This caused Aer to jump a little and she dropped her camera. The noise travelled in the cavernous cargo bay and she cursed to herself about how careless she had been before picking the camera back up. She had almost held her breath during the whole thing as she berated herself for being so careless in such dangerous circumstances.

As she looked up she saw the Klingon had started barking orders and other Klingons came into view. They weren’t so concerned with where the noise came from but more so about setting up transport enhancers around the crates so they could get them off the station. The leader removed his disruptor from his holster and fired. The Human body disintegrated from view.

Aer began to retreat slowly, there was no victory to be had here alone and with no back up. Even if she had wanted to call station security, by the time they got down here the Klingons would be long gone.

Just as she went to turn the corner of the crates she did behind a large hand appeared and grabbed her by the throat. Both her hands flew up in an attempt to remove the tight grip from her neck as she felt her legs lift from the ground, leaving her suspended and now face to face with a scarred looking Klingon.

He smirked. “Well, look what I caught. A little Human rat. Your people disgust me how low you’d go to spy on others… no honour in that. Face your enemy on the field.” he said with a smug superiority.

Aer tried to speak but the grip on her neck made it difficult, only weak escaping air managed to leave her mouth.

Loosening his grip only slightly as she still dangled several feet off the ground, “What was that?”

“Where… is the honour… in fighting with… Starfleet weapons?” Aer strained. “You… disgrace your House…” she was finding it a little harder to focus. The Klingons hand was tight, painful and with her head resting on the top she could feel the weight of her body straining her.

The Klingon pulled a D’k Tahg from his belt and slid it across her chin from left to right then pierced her cheek ever so slightly to draw blood. He grinned as the smell of it filled his nostrils and he gave it a lick. “You dare talk back to me, fragile thing. I barely touch you and you bleed.”

Some of the blood had travelled down into her mouth and she spat in the Klingons face.

“Hardly a Klingon… put me down…” Aer said breathlessly as she reached down for the knives in her own belt. She grabbed one and struck the Klingon in the forearm.

The Klingon bellowed, but not in pain but with laughter. “Call that a knife girl?” he asked as he thrust his own knife into Aer’s midriff and brought her closer to him. “Humans are weak, stupid creatures. Others will see when we are done, sadly you will not.” he finished twisting the knife before pulling it out.

Blood poured from the wound as the knife withdrew and Aer’s eyes went wide with pain and the sudden warm sensation she felt. She felt around her jacket for her emergency alarm, she always carried one. It would ping a distress signal to both Ops, Security, and the Intelligence Suite for assistance.

The Klingon sneered. “You tried, and failed.” he said, throwing her away like an old doll he had no use for. As she flew through the air she smacked her head on a cargo crate and it knocked her out. A cut formed on her forehead to add to her trouble she was in.

With that darkness overtook her, fear rose and her body wept blood crying for help.

---

Lt. Commander Aer Feshau
Chief Intelligence Officer
Poseidon Station

 

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