Action Log

[Tabor Nansk 0]

Action log

 

Tabor Nansk

 

 

 

After finishing up running Lt. V’Roy and the other pilots through their paces on the flight sims, Tabor went back to his room and gathered up the pile of charts littering his desk. Carrying the arm load down the passageway, he took the turbolift down to the holodeck and inserted his special program.

 

 

On his homeworld of Bajor, most would have gone to the temple to pray or commune with the prophets for spiritual guidance. But Tabor wasn’t a spiritual man, at least not in the traditional sense. Ever since he discovered the Academy library, and the wealth of books by and about people of all walks of life, Tabor had surrounded himself with an eclectic circle of “advisors” – an imaginary group of writers, thinkers, artists and whoever he thought could diversify his thoughts and enlighten him on the problem at hand.

 

 

Today’s group was one of his favorites: Harry Seldon, Peter Wiggin, Machiavelli and Amelia Earhart. As the program activated, the group was seated in a small circle of wingback chairs, set in a richly paneled den or office library. Tabor sat in the last empty chair, dropped his armful on the oval coffee table in the center, nodded at his friends and began.

 

 

“Nothing about this mission has seemed right. From the moment we received our orders until now as we find ourselves floundering in the Gamma quadrant, nothing has made sense with the official explanation of what we’re doing.”

 

 

“Bring us up to speed,” Amelia asked, leaning forward in her chair.

 

 

Tabor outlined everything “official” that he knew about the mission: the Proxima being lost in the Gamma quadrant, the sudden signal from her after too many years – in Romulan space no less, the wild plan to cross the Neutral Zone, the ridiculous ease with which that fete was accomplished, finding the Proxima, battling the Romulans, escaping through the wormhole and now sitting alone in the Gamma quadrant.

 

 

Harry Seldon puffed on his unlit pipe. “It does strain one’s credulity, doesn’t it? What do you think is going on?”

 

 

Tabor was always amazed, and pleased, how the group treated him as an intellectual equal. Sure they were just holograms and could be programmed to act in any manner chosen. But Tabor had given great care to allow the characters to respond and behave according to their individualness. And of course it helped to have the entire Federation biographical database to draw upon.

 

 

“The official version is that the Proxima was “lost” in the Gamma quadrant during the Dominion War and it was presumed that she was destroyed in battle. I believe that wasn’t what happened – and Star Fleet knows it. I believe that she actually intercepted a Romulan craft exiting a wormhole, the one that we came through, and followed it as it retreated back into the hole. I think the Proxima sent a ‘we’re in pursuit’ message back to Star Fleet that’s been classified at the highest level. When she didn’t return, Star Fleet simply made up a public relations story about the Proxima being ‘lost’ in battle.”

 

 

The group frowned and shuffled uneasily in their chairs. Wiggin spoke first. “There is some logic in your conjecture Tabor, and it isn’t hard to see Star Fleet’s predicament. First, they’re already in one war versus the Dominion. The last thing they need is a second front against the Romulans. Second, perhaps the wormhole is unstable and the Gamma quadrant terminus couldn’t be pinpointed. The Romulans could just deny the whole incident. And third, since the Romulans never claimed to have a Federation ship – something they would never pass up, an opportunity for a juicy PR campaign, maybe they didn’t have it at all. If the wormhole was unstable, why should it be just the terminus? Why not the entrance as well?”

 

 

“Oh that just makes no sense at all,” bristled Machiavelli. “We know the Proxima is in Romulan space. We just found it!”

 

 

“But if she was in Romulan hands,” asked Amelia, “why didn’t they just come out and say so?”

 

 

Seldon tapped his pipe in his palm. “I think I can answer that one, dear lady. If the wormhole was stable, and a Romulan construct, they can’t openly admit that. Even the possibility of an alliance with the Dominion would bring the Federation down on them. Yes, they might win out in a conflict with an overstretched opponent, but at what cost. It might just be a Pyrrhic victory that would topple the government.”

 

 

Tabor warmed to this line of thinking. “Maybe the Romulans just found themselves confronted with a wormhole and sent ships to check it out. They may have been aghast at where they found themselves – smack in the middle of a war they didn’t want any part of.”

 

 

“Or even worse,” cried Amelia. “If we go with the theory that the both ends of the wormhole are unstable, the Romulans wouldn’t know that the mouth was unstable, only that it showed up sporadically, on its own rather than by their own doing. They wouldn’t know that the terminus might be whipping around to other locations. It wouldn’t be until they lost a number of their own exploration ships they would realize that something was wrong.”

 

 

Wiggin jumped back in. “So if the Gamma quadrant isn’t the only touchdown point, where else might it lead to? Somewhere in the Alpha quadrant? Other Federation territory? Or some unexplored quadrant we know little about? “

 

 

“Well this is all just fancy talk to nothing,” said Machiavelli, shaking his head. “Other quadrants, humpf. Why not some dribble about alien space, too? You can’t get around the fact that the Proxima was found in Romulan territory. And if this wormhole is so unstable, how do you account for being back in the Gamma quadrant?”

 

 

Wiggin answered, “We only assume we’re ‘back’ because that’s where the Proxima was lost. What if the wormhole took her somewhere else first?

 

 

Deflated a bit, Amelia asked, “And why after all these years did she suddenly start transmitting?”

 

 

Here was the opening that Tabor had been waiting for, the chance to spill out his entire theory. “Ok, here’s what I think happened, and it’ll go a long way answering the boatload of questions about this mission. The Proxima was on combat patrol in the Gamma quadrant during the war when suddenly a wormhole appears and out pops a Romulan ship. She sends a pursuit message to Star Fleet and chases the Romulans back into the wormhole. But the wormhole is unstable and spits out the two ships in some unknown sector or quadrant. Star Fleet can’t openly say anything, so they classify everything and invent a cover-up. Years go by and the wormhole doesn’t re-appear in Romulan space, so the Romulans give up on it, but continue to monitor the vicinity where it has shown up before. Besides, how do they know it wasn’t a Federation wormhole? That would be another reason not to say anything about it. Simply guard the entrance just in case.”

 

 

Tabor took a quick breath and continued. “One day, out pops the Proxima, encased in an asteroid – and I’d bet latinum to doughnuts, the Romulan ship a little deeper inside. It’s a mystery, but what a prize to drop into their laps – a Federation ship to tear apart at their leisure.”

 

 

Amelia interrupted, “But wouldn’t they have found their own ship, too?”

 

 

“Yes!” announced Tabor, “and that’s when they discovered something that frightened them right out of their Nehru jackets. It wasn’t Federation technology driving the wormhole, it was something completely alien.” He ignored Machiavelli’s second “humpf”. “Their exploration ship had collected a sample from who knows where and the natives didn’t like it. The Romulans were probably trying to make a run for home when the terminus dumped them into the Gamma quadrant and the path of the Proxima.”

 

 

“I think I can guess where it goes from here,” said Wiggin. “The alien chasing the Romulan ship had two vessels to pursue. As the three ships maneuvered back into the wormhole, this time they exited back into Romulan space – and into the faces of a surprised Romulan patrol – all holy hell broke out. I suspect the alien had some kind of fusion weapon that plastered the exploration vessel and the Proxima – the first targets in its sights – into the closest asteroid. After that, it methodically annihilated the Romulan patrol before retreating back into the wormhole. And since it’s theirs, they probably can control it and went home. The ensuing Romulan back-up patrol discovered the entombed ships and they started digging.”

 

 

“And that brings us to our current situation,” said Tabor. “I think the Romulans are so frightened of this alien, their technology and weapons that they’re looking for help. Or more likely, someone else to draw away the aliens’ attention. So they let us “find” the Proxima - we suddenly start receiving a signal. Think about it. They practically dropped bread crumbs leading us right to her front door. It explains why they didn’t detect us approaching the Neutral Zone, why their border security was so porous, why we were able to slip through unnoticed and go warping through Romulan space unchallenged. It explains why the Proxima was relatively unguarded and why the warbirds that do respond to us go blundering off after inconsequential fighters. And later, when they finally press us in an attack, they don’t destroy us even though we’re clearly outnumbered. They just maneuver us into entering the wormhole – and hopefully for them – straight into the aliens’ hands.”

 

 

Amelia was frowning again. “So why did Star Fleet send just the Reaent?”

 

 

“Ahh,” purred Seldon, now puffing on a lit pipe, “that’s unfortunately easy to understand. From Star Fleet’s point of view, after all these years of their belief that the Proxima was in Romulan hands, the probability of this being a trap was just about 100%. They can’t send in an entire fleet for that would certainly cause a war. And if it’s a trap, they don’t want to risk one of their top of the line ships and have it fall into Romulan hands.”

 

 

“So why not send an old, battered wreck like the Reaent?” added Wiggin. “We can investigate what’s going on and if we get caught, there’s no new technology to be ‘lost’ to the Romulans.

 

 

“So now that we’re in the Gamma quadrant, what happens next?” asked Amelia.

 

 

“That my friends,” said Tabor, “is the 64 million latinum question. If I’m right, the Federation could be facing a bigger threat than the Borg.”

 

 

Everyone nodded soberly. Tabor sighed and called out, “end program”.