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Ambassador Moose

On The Way To Paktar, Part II

Stardate 10106.10

 

It felt good to use his legs again. They were stiff and cramped from many hours of waiting by David's bedside in sick bay. How many hours had it been? Moose wasn't sure. It felt like moments. It felt like an eternity.

 

After several nurses' shifts had come and gone with no change, Attache Bleeth had persuaded Moose to get some rest. She would stay with David, or she would get Rowan Moderi to relieve her. They would contact him the moment there was any change in David's condition. None of the Paktaran doctors would dare throw the Federation Ambassador out of sickbay. Moose suspected someone had slipped Yasmine some cash on the

side.

 

He was supposed to rest, but he had business to attend to. Moose wouldn't rest until business was concluded. He had been on just about every deck on the ship before finding the object of his business calmly standing on the observation deck as if he been patiently waiting for Moose to appear.

 

"Prime Varden, a word if you please."

 

"Ambassador Moose." Varden's voice was described as chilly in the best of times. With a thick layer of compassion heaped on, it was positively oily. "Please accept my condolences on the death of Representative Yori. We had no idea that you were traveling with telepaths."

 

Moose felt a wave of guilt sweep over him. Concern for David had pushed aside all thoughts of the Betazed member of his delegation. The Benai had warned them of possible side effects to the Coalition's method of travel. They had even prepared special shielded quarters for them. In spite of this, some of the delegates experienced headaches of various intensities as the ship began its journey. Moose himself had developed a migraine that thankfully ended all conversation with Terza. But as the ship jumped to warp, Yori let out a scream to raise the dead. When it ended, he had joined them. They had left the Federation less than 3 days behind, and already the delegation had been reduced to eight members. Moose had experienced his first fatality.

 

"He was supposed to have been shielded," said Moose bitterly.

 

"And he was," said Varden, almost taking pleasure from Moose's accusation. "His shielding was a solid as yours. You didn't experience any ... discomfort, did you?" Moose remained silent, refusing to volunteer that information. "It's a pity we didn't think to shield the cargo bay," Varden added. "How is the boy?"

 

"There has been no change. He's lapsed into a telepathic coma. They are difficult to revive from without aid from another Telepath. Your doctors claim there are none on board who can assist."

 

"There are no telepaths on board at all," sneered Varden. "Except, of course, for your boy David."

 

"I understand that the Paktaran have no telepathic aptitude, but what about you? Or your beta, Melora? Or Jaron Moset? Certainly it isn't beneath the Benai to help a lowly child."

 

"Benai aren't telepathic. We are merely... disciplined," said Varden carefully, adopting a tone usually reserved for four-year olds. "And we are not the monsters that the Paktaran perceive us to be. As you know, people in authority are often scorned by those they manage. I am certain not everyone was upset to meet your replacement on the Arcadia."

 

Moose didn't believe for a moment that Varden was not telepathic. The man knew exactly which of Moose's nerves were raw, precisely which insecurity to play upon. The Benai had demonstrated the ability to freeze a person's muscles using the tone of their voice. How else could they do that if not telepathically? "He might not recover on his own," he said. "Your doctors don't know how to help him."

 

"Another pity," crooned Varden, again with a veneer of compassion. "What would have possessed him to do something so dangerous as stealing aboard your shuttle."

 

"He's very devoted to me," said Moose sadly. His mind flashed back to when David was four. Moose had morosely fallen asleep one evening in front of a holovid and had woken up to find David snuggling in his lap. He had sensed Moose's anxiety and snuck out of Kelly's quarters to come cuddle with him. "We bonded when he was very young," Moose added. "And I left very suddenly. I didn't anticipate how strongly he'd feel about my leaving." That was a bit of an understatement. Moose hadn't considered David's feelings at all. His attempts to convince himself that he was not responsible for David's condition were failing miserably.

 

"Such a strong willed child, and a Telepath well. No wonder his mother has such difficulty instilling discipline."

 

"His mother is dead!" snapped Moose abruptly before shutting himself up. Why did he feel compelled to share this with Varden? Was this another of the Benai's mind tricks? He took a deep breath and tried to clear his thoughts. The banter was not important now. David was important. Moose knew what had to be done. "I'm canceling the delegation, Varden. Stop the ship, take us home."

 

For once, Varden look genuinely surprised. "Ambassador, that would be so unwise. Certainly you don't want to terminate diplomatic relations over an accident with a stowaway, no matter how tragic."

 

"We can mount another delegation. This one came together quickly. David needs medical attention and I'm going to see that he gets it." Like Varden, Moose was also surprised by his determination. He understood the risks that came with Starfleet, even for civilians. He couldn't remember a time where he put an individual's well-being ahead of the Federation, not his own, not even Khiaara's. But this was different. David was comatose, alone in an alien culture. His fate was in Moose's hands. No matter how many relationships he had walked away from in the past, this time the needs of the one were going to be met.

 

Varden peered at him as if he were pupating. He never misjudged people, yet Moose was clearly acting out of character. Events had changed him, forced him to adapt into someone new. He needed to determine quickly just what sort of man had emerged. "Coalition medical technology is far more advanced than you suspect," said Varden. "It would be best to bring the boy to Paktar. We will be able to treat him there."

 

"I can't take that chance," said Moose. "Paktar is too far away. We need to turn back."

 

"You know I can't do that," protested Varden firmly. "We had a limited launch window, which is why you had to leave so quickly. You agreed that there would be no turning back."

 

"That was before I knew David was here. That changes things."

 

"It does not change the laws of physics," said Varden, regaining his authoritative stance. "This ship cannot be turned around."

 

"Fine," said Moose, unwilling to argue any more. "The ship can proceed on it's course. The Creme Brulee is warp capable. I will take David home in my own ship."

 

"You will not make it home in time to save the boy. And by leaving, you will place him in more danger than you suspect."

 

"We're only three days from Starbase 331. I think I can keep him safe that long."

 

"It will take you two months to return to Federation space. If all goes well, we will arrive on Paktar in five days."

 

"No," said Moose, trying to work the navigational logistics in his head. "Paktar is a three-month journey. Yesterday, we were discussing a possible shore-leave location for day 57. How can we be five days away from Paktar?"

 

Varden gestured grandly and the lights dimmed in the observation lounge. The stars glowed outside the viewport as if they had been brightened by the same gesture. "Do you recognize any of the constellations?" he asked. "We are further away from the Federation than you think."

 

"Oh my stars and garters," muttered Moose. "That's the Romulan home system. We're deep in Romulan space. What are we doing here?" Moose was as close to speechless as he ever got. He had expected the Coalition to betray him out at some point. He had not expected anything like this.

 

As always, Varden seemed to sense what he was thinking. "I don't need to remind you of all people, the quickest route to Paktar is through the Star Empire. I assure you, we wish to avoid an encounter with the Romulans as much as you do. We are traveling at warp 1.2 so that we do not attract attention."

 

"Warp 1.2 wouldn't have gotten us this far, this quickly. In fact, Warp 10 wouldn't have gotten us this far. You found a wormhole in Federation space that leads to the heart of the Romulan Empire!" Moose found his shock turning to anger and impatience. These were emotions that for once he hoped Varden could read.

 

Varden sighed as if bored with some remedial lesson. "Wormholes aren't the only method for traveling from point A to point B. Distance is only a fixed value in relation to time when you travel on a linear plane. If you fold the dimensional plane so that your point of origin is closer to your destination, it will take you less time to travel."

 

"What are you talking about?" Moose asked, barely hiding his irritation. "The amount of energy required to fold space is astronomical. The Federation has been struggling with that problem for years."

 

"Do not judge our technology by Federation standards. Although your scientists still wrestle with the mechanics of what they call 'flux drive,' Coalition ships have been bending space for decades. Our generators are small and efficient, and our speed is only limited by the amount of energy we can produce. Unfortunately, the backlash from this energy radiates on a bandwidth similar to human thought. This makes traveling through the fold painful for Telepaths." Varden was direct and forceful, as if his directness would mask the fact that he didn't want this information revealed. "When your boy was discovered, we immediately dropped out of 'flux.' This restored the linear plane and deposited us halfway to our destination. I could fold space and have him on Paktar in an hour, but the journey would likely kill him as it did your Betazed. Therefore, we were forced to resume our journey via conventional warp. As you can see, we are not without compassion for his condition."

 

Many words leapt into Moose's mind. Compassion wasn't one of them. They had been told that the trip to Paktar would take 90 days, yet they clearly would have arrived in 7. What did the Benai have planned for the other 83? "Why didn't you tell us this before we left?" Moose asked.

 

"Because the Federation's flux project is closer to fruition than you know, and we have no intention of speeding up that process for you. One of your ships, the Ranger I believe, is about to have a prototype installed and sent into the Delta quadrant. Teams of Spacefleet personnel are being specially trained for that assignment, including someone bearing a striking resemblance to you."

 

Moose tried not to wince at the mention of his transporter double. Varden's network of intelligence was astounding. The Benai almost purred as he sensed he was striking raw nerves in Moose once again. "How do you plan to get to Paktar?" asked Moose, accepting the fact that he could not get David home on his own.

 

"In five days at our present speed, we will reach a transwarp conduit that was abandoned by the Borg. It will deposit us on the edge of the Paktar system."

 

"As long as the Romulans don't detect us."

 

"Or the Borg," added Varden.

 

"Let me make sure I understand our position," said Moose. He paused slightly, adopting a cold, deadly demeanor that few people had ever been brave enough to take lightly. "David Quest lies in a coma because he was exposed to a psychic energy backlash. That same backlash killed one of the other delegates, even though Yori was shielded and David was not. In the event that he doesn't revive on his own, you are willing to spend five days in Romulan territory hoping not to be noticed, so that you can access a Borg corridor where you also hope not to be noticed. And you're willing to risk this ship and everyone on it out of compassion for a young child."

 

"You would prefer we resumed our journey through the fold?" asked Varden innocently.

 

"I would prefer that you stopped underestimating my intelligence. You don't have any idea how David lived through this. You want him on Paktar so you can find out."

 

"It would, of course, be helpful to know if it was genetics or training which allowed him to survive. It could make folded space travel safe for Telepaths from many species, Coalition and Federation members alike. Think of the lives it could save."

 

It took all of Moose's self-control to fight down the anger and speak. "Invited or not, David Quest is my family and is now part of this delegation. He is under my personal protection and I will not tolerate any threat to his safety."

 

"Your personal protection?" Varden laughed audibly, with more animation in his face than Moose had ever witnessed. "Go ahead, call for backup. How many Federation ships can hear you? And even if they can, how will they get here. It's a three month journey unless you travel through Romulan space, and the Romulans aren't likely to allow that on your behalf after your last trip to Paktar. Do you have any idea how many favors were used by how many governments to prevent your extradition for crimes against the Empire? They would shoot you on sight if they found you here now."

 

"Let them try," barked Moose furiously. "I won't sit idly by and allow you to dissect David like some laboratory specimen."

 

"Oh, you do think us the monsters," Varden teased. "But don't worry, the boy is in no danger. The Coalition Counsel has need of a Federation Embassy. We will not jeopardize their plans because of my personal interest in an unexpected scientific discovery. There will be time for that later, and other Federation specimens I'm sure."

 

"There will be no later," ordered Moose. "If anything ever happens to that boy, I will hold you personally responsible. And unlike you, I have a history of defying my superiors to indulge personal interests. Just ask the Romulans." Moose turned on his heel and stormed away, claiming the last word.

 

"Ambassador." The one word from Varden was all it took for Moose to stop. He could not walk, he could not turn back. He had been stopped in his tracks, a reminder of Benai 'discipline.' "Your threats are obviously born out of grief and stress over a loved one in critical condition. We would be monsters to take offense over careless and emotional words uttered at a time like this. Do not worry, your boy will be shown all of the respect due to your embassy."

 

On the word 'embassy,' free will returned to Moose's legs and he quickly left the observation lounge. He was embarrassed, not only at how easily he had fallen prey to the Benai's ability, but at how careless he had been. Did he really think he could have bullied that man? And what position had he just put David in? In addition to his scientific value, Moose had revealed what an emotional weapon David could be against him. And he had no doubt that the Coalition would exploit that weakness the first moment it suited them.

 

Moose had never grieved for Kelly Quest, so he never had to admit to himself what her loss truly meant. But David was her son, and he realized now that he loved him like his own. He had stayed mostly in the background of David's life on the Arcadia. Dana had been there, and Dana was his real flesh and blood. But Dana was still on the Arc, and now Moose felt like the absent parent who suddenly had custody. David was his family, and David was injured. And God help them all, in the eyes of the Coalition, David Quest was now a commodity.

 

Amb Moose

On the way to Paktar

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