889: Help's Not on the Way

by Vol Tryst and Keiran O'Sullivan
90602.21

-=USS Zenith=-


Keiran O’Sullivan watched as the Serendipity’s Betazoid counselor paced a path across the shining deck plates of the bridge of the USS Zenith.

The Irishman was no empath, but it didn’t take one to see that the counselor was becoming more anxious by the second.

He was scratching the back of his head repeatedly at thirty second intervals. He was also blinking for longer than necessary. As if every time he did blink, he fell asleep, only to wake up once more after three seconds in order to resume his pacing.

“You may wan’ta take a seat, Couns’lr,” Keiran offered finally, as he noticed that Tryst’s motions were becoming a distraction to the security officers around them.

“I’d rather stand, Commander, if you don’t-“

Keiran sighed. With the natural authority of all his years in command behind the sentiment, he still managed to sound calm as he gave the directive. “Tryst. Sit.”

“Aye sir.”

Vol submitted and sat down in the empty XO's chair beside O'Sullivan.

Sitting did nothing to impede his fidgety habits, if anything they worsened as he attempted to sit still. Now not only was Vol scratching his head every ten seconds but he wrung his hands in between. Instead of blinking though, his gaze was now focused straight ahead of him, eyes remaining open for the most part and their prolonged exposure to the air made them sting.

Vol felt like he was trying to accomplish something great with only the core of an apple and a broken 21st century match. What were they doing here again, and why? Oh right! Vol was, as he was doing at the current moment, extending his psychic self as far as it would go. The strain was like nothing Vol had ever experienced. His mind begged to be put back together. It was not morning and it definitely was not interested in being someone else's pancake breakfast. But Vol convinced himself that this was the best way, the only way, to save the crew of the Zenith and to draw out their kidnappers.

Vol inhaled and exhaled deeply as he pushed himself out a little more. He'd had been lying if he said he wasn't terrified. This alien species might be able to 'grab onto to him' and rip his mind to shreds before Vol ever had a chance to retract himself.

That was exactly why Vol made it clear to the O'Sullivan's that under no circumstances could any of the telepathic crew members who willingly chose to stay be asked to board the Zenith. Vol had to be the only one this alien species sensed, he had to keep them focused, then be ready to steal away their target after a short while.

A moment later the unfathomably deep voice of Lt. Dwan Tubman addressed O’Sullivan.

“Commander, we’re receiving a…most unusual signal.” Dwan’s hands were working the console at Tactical with speed and precision, and Keiran rose from his seat and moved to stand over Tubman’s shoulder.

Vol’s eyebrow elevated as he heard what was said next.

“It’s being routed through several different sets of subspace relays, then it’s being somehow amplified by the Sera’s communications grid. This…” Dwan shook his head as he tried to clear up the message, which was text only, and filter out the interference that was making half of the characters appear as gibberish. Then, a light of recognition and astonishment lit the man's brilliant eyes. “This message uses a Temporal Investigations encryption algorithm.”

“Does it now?” Keiran blinked, and then he realized why it was that he recognized this technique. He’d spent years perfecting it. Recently, in fact, he'd been teaching the art to one specific person...

“Is from Cristiane.” Keiran informed, nodding to Dwan to ask him to move aside and wllow O’Sullivan access to the panel. Within seconds, the missing letters of the message filled in, and Keiran felt as if he’d been blindsided as he read it.

The expression on his face told everyone present that the news it contained was not good.

“What does it say, Commander?” Tryst inquired softly.

“Says…” Keiran inhaled, and then forced himself to say the words aloud. “Lair told not to contact Sera, so she won't. Lassiter no help. We’re on our own.”

Those on the bridge exchanged glances, and Vol jumped back out of his seat as he realized the gravity of the situation and resumed his pacing.

Help was not going to come.

“Have to warn Liis.” Keiran mumbled softly, slipping and then correcting himself as he again spoke at a normal volume. “The captain. She...needs to know. Be right back.”

He moved into the ready room, and he took a moment to gather his wits and steel himself for Liis’ reaction, whatever it was going to be. Somehow, he doubted that she was going to be as surprised by this as he was.

On some level he still wanted to believe after all he’d seen that Starfleet would still stop at nothing to help those of its own who were in trouble. However recent years, especially since the war, had shown the truth for what it was, and it was that they did what they thought was best for their image more often than what was best for anything, or anyone, else.

He had hoped that perhaps all that was beginning to change with the launch of The Alchemy Project. It would seem that even the enlightened Federation still had a very long way to go.

He sat down, hesitantly, at the desk of Captain Grey.

He observed the personal trinkets that were displayed upon it, and he felt as if he was trespassing. Even though the Zenith could have been his ship if he’d wanted it to begin with, he had not, he did not, and it was not. He felt exceedingly out of place here, on another man's ship, sitting at his desk, and commanding where Jennings Grey should be instead.

There was only one place he wanted to be; one ship he wanted to set foot upon. Only one commanding officer he wished to serve and protect, and right now he had to tell her that the very worst was happening; they were being left to face a powerful, unknown enemy alone.

He opened a secure channel to the Sera, and moments later she was looking at him with concern in her eyes that the expression on his face told her was well warranted.

[What’s wrong?]

“Look, Liis, thing is, Dane sent a message.”

[To the Zenith?]

“Aye. Lair was told not to contact the Sera and Dane, he’s, been mindin’ his lessons it seems.” Keiran remarked, the sadness in his voice embellished with just a trace of pride in the boy’s work. “They’re not goin'ta be sendin’ any help.”

Liis didn’t flinch.

[You’re certain that’s what he meant to say?]

“I am.”

[All right.] Liis closed her eyes a moment, and drew a breath. [I didn’t want to do this, but it looks like they’re leaving us no choice. We have got to get the Zenith ready for battle should there be one.]

“Liis-“ Keiran knew that she was making the right call, but still as Security Liaison to The Alchemy Project it was his job to remind her of their original orders- which were to keep the Zenith from getting damaged.

[She’s leaving us no choice, Keiran and you know it. Sera would be a sitting duck against whatever it was that had the power to take the Zenith’s crew in the first place. So that leaves me one question to ask you.] Zanh leaned closer to the screen. [They wanted you to command the Zenith before you lost your senses and decided to marry me instead. Will you command her now?]

Keiran’s expression softened, his hand elevating and reaching out as if to try to touch her through the screen. “When I came to my senses and decided to marry ya, you mean.” He said softly. How far away from him she seemed in the moment, much farther than she actually was. He tried, but couldn't quite manage to achieve as reassuring a tone of voice as he would have liked. “Course I will. If this is where you want me, Captain, then this is where I’ll stay.”

[You know where I want you, Home. I just want everyone to come home.] Liis said sadly, and he understood all too well.

“Soon. I promise ya. Soon.”

[I'm going to hold you to that.] Her expression altered slowly as she began to consider strategy now. [You’re going to need more people over there. If there’s anyone in particular that you want, let me know, I’ll see to it that you get them.]

“Thank you, Captain.”

[Keep me updated on Vol’s progress. I want to know absolutely everything that happens over there.]

“Understood.” Keiran prepared to close the channel then realized he’d forgotten to tell her one last thing. “One thing more, Captain. I get the feelin’ from young Dane’s message that…some of our crew may be comin' home sooner than you’d hoped.”

[Damn it, I knew Lair wasn’t going to listen to me.] Liis groaned, at once both unhappy, and grateful, for the possibility that the Alchemy may be of some help to them yet. [For now I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But if you’ve any further messages from our friend Cristiane, let me know.]

“Aye, will.” He promised. Finally, he could hold back no longer from placing his fingertips on the screen to try to bridge the gap between them. “An lámh fhoisteanach abú.”

She placed her own hand against the screen on her end, and knowing the real meaning of the words he chose, she responded directly to the message behind them. [I love you too.] Her voice dropped so low in volume that he could barely make out the words now as she added, [Please, be careful Keiran.]

“You too. O’Sullivan out.”

He sighed, stroked his hand over the bristly whiskers of his chin and considered what may lie ahead.

He only hoped that Tryst’s plan would work; that he’d be able to lure their would-be assailants ouf of hiding, and that when they were exposed, they’d have a chance in Hell of putting up a fight.

---------------------------------
LT. Vol Tryst
Ship's Counselor
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

Commander Keiran O'Sullivan
Security Liaison
The Alchemy Project
Currently in command of the USS Zenith