Beyond Antares

[Sorehl 0]

The Founder leader recoiled, hearing a statement from the latest in the line of obedient Weyoun clones. “Then you have come to me for guidance?” she reasoned aloud.

 

“Yes,” the Vorta answered, not bothering to hide the pleading tone in his response. He bowed even lower.

 

The female shapeshifter nodded. “Tell me everything,” she commanded. Even after years of imprisonment, she retained an obvious, regal tone.

 

And Weyoun began his story...

 

* * * * *

 

Inside his modest stateroom aboard the starship Reliant, a chime interrupted Sorehl’s review of the video footage. The recording had been forwarded for his assessment by the Starfleet penal facility in New Zealand. He pressed the pause button, turning his attention to ship’s business. “This is the captain,” he spoke in response. “Go ahead.”

 

“Sir, this is Zorn,” answered a voice from the bridge, “we’re about to enter the Antares system.”

 

“Very good,” Sorehl noted. “Drop to impulse and signal the Lexington.”

 

“That’s just it, sir,” came the reply. “Starbase 21 says they already left the system. And they told us to be ready to take on new orders.”

 

“I’m on my way,” he advised.

 

The captain eased his lean Vulcan frame out of the cramped bunk. He tossed the reader beside a copy of Ethics, Sophistry, and the Alternate Universe on his pillow and got to his feet. Curious, he thought. This would be the second time they had been rerouted since passing through the wormhole a week ago. After delivering Weyoun to Earth, Sorehl had anticipated a brief sojourn at Starfleet Headquarters with an opportunity to brief the Admiralty on the status of the Gamma Quadrant. Instead, Reliant had received new priority orders whisking it to a rendezvous with the Sovereign-class Lexington.

 

It took exactly twelve paces to exit his cabin, turn left down the concentric corridor, and enter the bridge. He walked on, coming up behind the flight control and operations console where Lieutenant Commander Gabriel Zorn sat. “What are our orders?” he prompted.

 

Zorn looked over his shoulder. “Encrypted, sir,” the helmsman explained. “I’ve transferred them over to your console.”

 

Sorehl nodded curtly and assumed the center chair. He tapped the console at his right, providing the necessary security code. It took seconds to determine the intent, but a few more moments to understand their broader impact. He cocked an eyebrow. “They lied to me,” he spoke quietly.

 

Zorn swivelled his chair. “Sir? May I ask what our orders are?”

 

“Technically, Commander, they are my orders, not ours. I will be disembarking at the starbase.” He stood. “You are to assume command and await further orders from Admiral a’Trok.”

 

“Sir?” Zorn replied, somewhat startled.

 

“Bring us within range of the starbase,” the Vulcan instructed evenly. “I shall require no more than sixty seconds to gather my personal effects, then report to the aft transporter room.” He paused at the threshold of the bridge, noting several eyes upon him. He took a long look at the interior, noting that this ship had served alongside his command of three different bases of operation. Chiding himself for the introspection, he realized he’d already wasted five of his promised sixty seconds. “Good luck,” he offered, and turned without another word.

Edited February 20, 2006 by Sorehl