Apocalypse and Apocrypha

[Sorehl 0]

A joint log with Semil (in green), occuring less than one hour after Yorktown and the remaining fleet left Camelot.

 

The diplomatic area for the Hundred ran the length of one of the six C-Ring spokes which connected the station hub to its outer ring. The formal entrance on Deck 27, limiting access to the extraterritorial area, was flanked by a very visible Jem’Hadar honor guard. Belonging to the smallest, and least organized of the powers on Embassy Row, it was assumed the Hundred Wing utilized only a fraction of the ten decks available to them.

 

Sorehl was surprised to learn this was not the case.

 

Rows and rows of cloning tubes lined the narrow chamber before him, continuing down three decks. Each capsule contained an inert Jem’Hadar soldier suspended in bluish fluid. An army in stasis, he considered.

 

The Vulcan captain had delayed his departure aboard the Andor-class missile cruiser Thala’and at Semil’s insistence. This chamber was among the things Semil had felt it urgent to show him.

 

“1458 soldiers,” Semil explained, “enough to form two battalions.”

 

Sorehl contained his rising concern. “I was unaware you had such numbers aboard the station,” he spoke non-committally.

 

“We began the cloning process in response to the request from Captain Corizon months ago,” the Vorta explained.

 

Sorehl leaned against the railing, confirming Semil’s numbers with his own calculations. “Nevertheless,” he prompted, “I was not advised you were maintaining such a significant onboard reserve.”

 

“For defense of the station,” Semil insisted. “These soldiers are in excess of what we needed to supply our fleet. When I leave with our task force, I intend to turn control of them to Commander Blair. In the unlikely event Camelot itself comes under attack, they can be activated from your Command Center.”

 

Although it was unsettling to leave a Jem’Hadar army aboard the station, Sorehl reasoned that there was little reason for the Hundred to expose it’s existence if it were intended to be used against Camelot. He glanced at Semil, who was looking back at him expectantly.

 

“You see what we’re investing to earn your trust,” the Vorta prompted.

 

Sorehl observed how eagerly this concept was being presented to him. “As I noted before, it is your actions in the coming battle that are apt to be more beneficial,” he noted. “There are those who would dismiss the offer of your soldiers, considering it a resource you find easily expendable.” He stepped closer to one of the capsules, wondering how many times it had been filled with dispensible life.

 

“We’ll make more,” Semil quoted himself. “Yes, I see.” He tilted his head, thinking. “So it falls to us to use them in a way that will most benefit the alliance? I think you’ll see that. We’ve prepared four regiments of transporter shock troops to assist in long-range boarding of poorly-defended targets. You remember I discussed this option with Joy Six and Lieutenant Xenatos.”

 

“Long-range?”

 

“For a location properly tagged with homing transponders, from ranges approaching ten light years,” the Vorta elaborated, clearly pleased with this advanced state of Dominion technology. (See DS9:”Covenant”)

 

“Yes, I recall,” Sorehl acknowledged. “You also mentioned a 50% mortality rate, just for the beam-over.”

 

“Our shock troops know the risks. They are pledged to serve the Hundred.”

 

Sorehl raised an eyebrow. The remark was not as dismissive as he’d expected. “I was not aware the Jem’Hadar could refuse such an order,” he probed.

 

Semil’s voice grew softer. “The Hundred are trying to instill a greater sense of free will amongst their subjects. They desire that we share as great a sense of individuality as they share amongst themselves.”

 

“Individuality?” the captain questioned. This was an aspect he'd suspected, but not confirmed. “I was under the impression the Hundred were joined as one by a New Link.”

 

The Vorta actually smiled. “A curious duality, isn’t it? Their solitary experience seems to separate them from the Founders. Odo was the same way, I’m told.”

 

“It would explain their inability to achieve the kind of equanimity typical of the Dominion,” Sorehl observed. He recalled how two of the shapeshifters had argued about whether they should be attacking the station.

 

The smile faded. “You would do well to avoid such irreverence. If the gods must contend with each other for the fate of our galaxy, it is not ours to question their inscrutable wisdom.”

 

Dispassionately, Sorehl noted the mask had fallen back over the Vorta’s expression. He might have lost the chance for open inquiry with his unintentional slight. As such, it was time to press forward with his duties. “I fail to see,” he challenged, “why you felt it necessary to delay my departure for this.”

 

“Captain, I’ve told you. The Hundred think you’re important to the future of our continued alliance,” Semil explained. “I had to show this to you; gauge your reactions. See if we are building a relationship of trust that can last until the day we must take up arms against the Dominion for our birthright.”

 

Sorehl clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head. “We have not yet prevailed against the Scorpiad and you already anticipate resuming your civil war.”

 

“The Vorta always plan ahead to the next war,” Semil rationalized.

 

Relentlessly logical, Sorehl admitted. Sensing the revelation was over, he turned to ready his ship for departure. "I believe I've seen enough."

 

But the Vorta didn't seem to agree. “The Dominion may have abandoned you as useless, but through me, the Hundred know Starfleet is a valuable ally,” Semil announced. “You are a perfect example of their resolve. It is with you our hopes lie in convincing the Federation to support us.”

 

“Once again, you overstate my role,” Sorehl countered. "I am a starbase commander with no particular influence. Attempts at flattery are wasted where no ego exists.”

 

Semil stepped toward him. “You forget, captain,” Semil goaded, “I’ve seen what you’re willing to do to preserve your civilization - subsume your own will, sacrifice your own life, kill with your bare hands, unleash weapons of mass destruction. In those months as your jailer, I manufactured enough illusions inside your mind to know how you respond. Tenacity for your ideals will bring you to see the righteousness of our cause.”

 

Sorehl turned away, looking for the exit. “There is little point in wasting time with idle propagan…” he paused, trailing off. Unconsciously, his right eyebrow shot up. Slowly, he turned back toward the Vorta. “You should not be able to recall the details of my imprisonment,” he realized aloud. “Those are memories of an unstable clone.”

 

The upturn of the lips was almost diabolical. “Unlike the Founders, the Hundred did not deem it necessary to withhold those memories from me,” Semil revealed. Unseen, he summoned his Jem’Hadar First. “Don’t worry, captain. I’m not insane. But those memories have given me a sense of what to do with the free will I’ve been given. And you must help the Federation play its part.”

 

Alongside the captain, two Jem’Hadar unshrouded, grabbing his shoulders suddenly. Reacting with unchecked Vulcan strength, Sorehl wrenched one arm free, hurling one of the soldiers up and over the railing. As he twisted to face his other attacker, he felt the back of his knees crumple to the strike of a kar’takin polearm. Two more soldiers stepped out of their shroud, moving to hold him firmly in a kneeling position.

 

“This is hardly the action of a trusted ally,” Sorehl managed, still struggling against his captors.

 

Semil crouched down beside the Vulcan. “You’re right, of course,” he admitted. “I’ll have to make sure you have no recollection of this part of our visit.” He jerked his head in the direction of his First. “Hera’temlan, ready a short-term memory wipe.” He looked back at Sorehl. “Luckily, I already have detailed scans of your mesocortical functions.” He gestured again and the Jem’Hadar lifted the Vulcan to his feet.

 

“I have no reason to harm you, my friend. In fact, I suppose there’s no harm in admitting I’ve taken extra precautions to ensure your safety in this coming battle,” Semil disclosed. “It would be difficult to replace such a valuable inroad to winning our next war.”

 

With typical discipline, Sorehl recognized that rage would gain him nothing, but found it challenging to suppress the rising sense of shame at being caught so unaware. Even now, as the Jem’Hadar dragged him toward a vertical slab, he didn’t know why this was happening. Semil had admitted no great treachery or insidious plot. Was the knowledge that he was in touch with his own imbalanced past sensitive enough to make him hide all that he had just revealed? The fact was disturbing, but hardly damning. It made no sense to cover up, especially at the risk of such violation.

 

Sorehl struggled against the Jem'Hadar grip, despite the futility. What good was logic against insanity?

Edited July 5, 2007 by Sorehl

[KVorlag 0]

What good was logic against insanity?

You're just figuring this out? Semil best hope a certain Klingon does not learn he's been toying with people's memories again. :::sharpens d'tagh:::

[Captain Halloway 0]

Since we saw Sorehl at the battle last night, I assume he's none the worse for wear?

[Sorehl 0]

Since we saw Sorehl at the battle last night, I assume he's none the worse for wear?

Quite correct, skipper. Sorehl left the station aboard the Thala'And on time and with no recollection of the latter part of his discussion with Semil -- at least, not now... :::reserving a future plot point, if needed:::