Spring into Action

[Cmdr Ba'alyo 0]

With the captain and senior staff over dining on the Constitution-refit Georgetown, Commander Ba'alyo grew concerned about reports of Klingon ground forces moving in on the rebels at the Great Hall. He's already alerted Ensign Lessard to advise Captain Seiben of the development. Although the Prime Directive placed strict limitations on their involvement in an internal political struggle, there was one point of interest that seized his own thoughts.

 

"Savros," he wondered aloud, "the Ambassador isn't human, but we should be able to pick out his vitals, shouldn't we?" The Federation diplomat had been returned to the Klingon First City on Qo'noS in the hopes of resolving the dispute. Ba'alyo assumed the other starship was tracking the envoy, but wanted to be cautious. He had no way of knowing Ambassador Dax had left strict orders with Georgetown not to be scanned or monitored.

 

"Quite right," the Vulcan officer replied, "I'll scan for Trill life signs."

 

Behind him, Lessard was closing the channel to the other ship. "Aye, sir," she concluded. "Challenger out."

 

"I'm calibrating the sensors now," Savros reported, "we should know where the Ambassador is shortly."

 

The Efrosian first officer turned toward Dr. Natalie Harris, who was lingering at the aft portion of the bridge. He lowered his voice. "I hate to ask, but do you know much about the Ambassador's physiology?" Space-going Trill were still a rarity, much like his own species. He knew their species was reluctant to discuss their internal anatomy – some sort of taboo, he supposed. He heard cases of them even avoiding transporters, or insisting that no pattern trace be kept. If he should somehow be injured…

 

Harris looked a little sheepish. "He's a Trill," she chuckled weakly, "I know they have spots or ridges, depending on where they came from on the homeworld..." The way she trailed off suggested she was less than confident about her knowledge, which was hardly surprising. "Have you ever met him?" she asked.

 

Zen shook his head. "No," he replied, "Just on our viewer." He remembered the split screen with Dax and Kang. "The Klingons seem to think highly of him."

 

Toward the front of the bridge, Savros spoke up. "I think I have found him." His eyebrow went up. "He appears to be engaging in small arms."

 

Ba'alyo blinked, then felt a surge of blood pound in his neck. "Engaged in small arms?" he said in sudden alarm. "He's in the battle?"

 

"I didn't think ambassadors were..." Dr. Harris was saying behind him, "oh dear..."

 

Beside him, Lessard swivelled, looking fretful. He looked over to her. "Do we…" he stammered, " Can we raise him, Lessard?"

 

The communications chief turned back to her board. "Trying diplomatic channels."

 

Savros turned away from his sensors. "Part of his negotiations?"

 

Ba'alyo gripped the railing with his right hand. "No wonder the Klingons respect him... he's just as reckless as they are..." Almost as an afterthought, he turned toward Lessard. "And get me the Georgetown!"

 

Dr. Harris moved beside him, rubbing her temples. He took a cleansing breath himself. Lessard was shaking her head. "Nothing from the Ambassador, sir," she reported, "but I have the Georgetown."

 

"Onscreen," he directed, though his mind was already running through the Prime Directive options. Dax was a Federation civilian under special diplomatic protections. What was Challenger allowed to do to protect or extract him?

 

On the Main Viewer, an Andorian female appeared, her antenna twitching in irritation as she put down some form of pastry. "Hello, Challenger," she greeted, almost lazily.

 

Zen moved to center himself on the screen. "Georgetown, our sensors show loyalist Klingons are moving in on the Great Hall. Ambassador Curzon seems to be right in the battle." He could hear Lessard still trying to reach the diplomat. Unconsciously, he reached up to stroke the long, white whiskers of his beard.

 

Lessard sat up suddenly, touching the subspace transceiver in her ear. She had obviously heard something. "Sir," she announced, "I've got a signal but no response. Trying to locate." Had he known she'd heard clanging weapons, he'd have been even more alarmed.

 

The Andorian onscreen frowned. "Do you want me to get in touch with someone downstairs?"

 

Ba'alyo looked onscreen, somewhat incredulous. "Before the Ambassador dies? I think you'd better." He felt his muscles tense, ready to spring into action. It seemed the time to sit things out had passed.