Vulcan Stev's Database

It's a BLOG Captain, but not as we know it.

United or Untied part 6

The story thus far: Stev, a Vulcan agent of the clandestine Federation organization known as October, has been given a mission to go to Romulus to determine whether a new informant is genuine or an effort by the Tal Shiar to sniff out the whereabouts of “The Hobgoblin”.  His contact to get him through Romulan security is one his former professors.  Stev and Phyllis are now en route to Romulus
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

The pair of Federation agents had no further trouble on their trip to the Romulan capital.  The conversation continued during the remainder of their journey.

“So you still hold to your interpretations of the teachings of Surak?” Phyllis finally asked.

Stev smiled, “Yes, though I have been unsuccessful in convincing other Vulcans of the validity of my beliefs.”

“Then your vrekasht, is still in effect?”

“Yes, and since I am officially dead I doubt that it will ever be lifted.”

Phyllis looked her former student in the eye, “Stev, you of all people should know the future is not set.”  Her eyes twinkling again, “Nothing lasts forever.”

Stev’s features remained stoic.  He calmed his exterior while below the surface his emotions rolled, “I know all too well that nothing lasts forever, Phyllis.”

The older woman studied his face for a moment, “Vulcans are always difficult to read, you even more so.  Regardless of your beliefs, you are still Vulcan.”

Stev smiled briefly, “I know you are not prone to stating the obvious, professor.  So your point is?”

“You left someone behind didn’t you?”

“It would be illogical to deny the truth.  Yes, my wife believes I am dead. She is currently working for Starfleet.”

“Why would she think you are dead?”

“October staged a shuttle accident about four years ago and faked my death.”

“You chose this solitary existence over your wife,” Phyllis asked incredulously.

Stev exhaled slowly, “One of my last missions aboard the Intrepid originated within October.  It was a suicide mission to be blunt.  The fact that I survived and accomplished the mission caught the attention of Frankenstein.  T’Aiya and I discussed it and we determined that my taking this assignment was the most logical course of action.”

The console in front Stev indicated an incoming transmission.

“If you say so,” Phyllis said just before Stev activated the subspace radio.

Inbound craft, identify yourself,” the transmission ordered in Romulan.

This is the Plaplak Jag’r carrying Phyllis Jenkins, merchant number 89-919699 and her shipment bound for the Krocton sector,” Stev replied flawlessly without any accent.

Seconds passed by slowly before the Romulan replied, “Plaplak Jag’r you are cleared for planetfall at the port of Si’rcH, berth 902.”  An entry vector appeared on one of the bridge monitors.

Acknowledged,” Stev replied.  The Vulcan skillfully brought his small craft through the atmosphere.  His course never deviated from the prescribed route.  He grinned.  He could feel the atmospheric turbulence buffet the small craft.  He relished the feel.  It was times like this that he was thankful for his interpretation of the teachings of Surak.  Any other Vulcan would coldly calculate the variables.  Stev was one with his ship, the monitors his eyes and the atmospheric flaps his extremities.  He reveled in the feel and he took pride in the fact that he was damn good pilot.

Seeing the spaceport ahead Stev skillfully brought the ship into its assigned berth.  He killed the inertial dampners just before the ship came to a complete stop.  There was just the briefest sensation of forward movement before everything was still.

December 25, 2010 Posted by | Agent of October, Star Trek, Stev, Vulcan Stev | , , , , , | Leave a comment

United or Untied: A serialized Stev story Part 5

Two hours later, the loading had been completed.  Stev and his old professor sat in the cockpit of the Ghost Rider and prepared for departure.

“Deep Space 3, this is Plaplak Jag’r, we are ready for departure clearance,” Stev spoke into the comm.

Plaplak Jag’r, you are cleared for departure.”

Stev shut down the comm channel and piloted the tiny ship from its berth.  When he had cleared the station he set a course for Romulan space.  Once that was accomplished, he turned his attention towards the security systems panel.

“Computer, commence security scan.”

Working,” Phread replied on screen as the computer voiced the same acknowledgement.

Stev waited until Phread had given him the all clear indicator before he turned to Professor Jenkins as he had known her so many years before.

Atropos, the computer has given me the all clear.  There are no detected bugs or indicators that we are being monitored, tracked, or followed,” Stev spoke in Rihannsu as he reactivated the audio masking protocol just to be safe.

Picking up on his verbal cues, Professor Jenkins replied also in Rihannsu, “That is good Teven, we don’t want some Federation border patrol to board us and seize this shipment.”

“I believe it is safe to talk, Professor,” Stev replied in standard.

“If it is safe to talk, why did we begin our conversation in Rihannsu?” she asked.

“I have an audio masking program installed on the comm system.  If anyone does attempt to hijack my comm system, the computer puts up a brief struggle before mimicking a security breach.  It then broadcasts a completely innocuous conversation in the language that was being spoken at the time of its activation,” he replied.

“So if anyone starts tapping into your comm system now they will hear a completely different conversation between the two of us in Rihannsu?”

“Correct”

“Those October scientists sure do come up with some elaborate security measures.”

“Actually, this protocol is my own design,” the Vulcan replied matter-of-factly.

“You always did have a gift for languages and computer programming,” she answered with a teacher’s pride in her voice.

“Thank you Professor,” he answered.

Teven,” she began with an emphasis on his alias, “if you persist in calling me that, you will certainly blow our cover on Romulus.  “Please call me Phyllis.  It is my given name and the name that Romulan border patrol knows me by.”

“Very well, Phyllis,” Stev answered with a smile.

Twelve hours later, the two October agents had caught up on the non-classified portions of their lives.  They had gone over the particulars of the mission and were conversing in Romulan as their ship sped toward Romulan space.  Sticking to the unclassified portions of the past twenty-eight years, they talked as friends being reacquainted.

“So in all this time you’ve never sought companionship?” Phyllis asked.

“It has not been necessary,” Stev answered with a trace of melancholy in his voice.

“You mean physically, don’t you?”

Knowing that his old professor was referring to Ponn Far, Stev looked directly in her eyes, “Yes, it will not be necessary for some months.”

“But do you have anyone to talk to Stev?” she prodded.

Not wanting to compromise Phread or reveal the existence of his protégé, he simply answered, “I have people to talk to when the need arises.”

Phyllis smiled, “Well then, now that you know where I am you can add me to that list and stop by DS3 the next time you’re in the neighborhood.”

“Thank you professor, I shall.”

Before Phyllis could respond the comm system crackled to life, “Unidentified vessel, you have entered Romulan Space from the Neutral Zone,” a cold voice declared in Rihannsu.  “You have 30 seconds to identify yourself or be reduced to a smoldering hulk.”

Certainly,” Stev replied back in the same language, “this is Captain Teven of the Plaplak Jag’r.  We are twelve hours out of Deep Space 3 with a shipment bound for Romulus.  To whom am I speaking?”

This is the R.S.E. Warbird, Stellar Sword.  Plaplak Jag’r, you are not listed as an authorized Neutral Zone merchant ship.”

I realize that, Stellar Sword.  I have been commissioned by an authorized zone merchant to haul this shipment for her.”

The voice at the other end of the comm frequency turned icy, “And we are just supposed to believe you?  Unidentified ships and Federation spies often disappear without a trace.”

No, Stellar Sword, I do not expect you to take his word for it.  I expect you to take mine,” Phyllis entered the conversation with a tone of malice in her voice.

And you are?”

Phyllis Jenkins, merchant number 89-919699, jol’khe to Ambassador Knileb.”

The prolonged silence indicated that her name dropping had the desired effect.

Minutes later the comm crackled back to life, but without the arrogance, “Plaplak Jag’r, you are cleared for a merchant run to Romulus.  The Ambassador requests your presence along with your passenger for dinner at his residence.”

Thank you Stellar Sword.  Tell the Ambassador that I will be there,” Phyllis said as she closed the channel.   Turning to Stev she continued in standard, “And that is how we get through Romulan security.”

Stev laughed as he piloted the disguised Ghost Rider on a course for the Empire’s seat of power.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

December 12, 2010 Posted by | Agent of October, Star Trek, Stev | , , , , | Leave a comment

United or Untied: A serialized Stev story. Part 2

Part 2 – Part 1 can be viewed here.

Deep Space 3, a Federation outpost, hung in space like a neglected Christmas tree ornament.  Starfleet had just enough presence in the sector to protect the space station from attacks by the Klingons, Romulans, and the occasional Breen incursion.  At least that was the official position of Starfleet, the sector held no strategic importance and there were no known resources within the sector.  The Federation maintained control by default.

The reality of the situation was that the space station was used by most of the quadrant’s adversarial governments as a place to conduct clandestine deals.  As such the station had only ever been attacked once, by the Breen.  Coming to the defense of the station was a Klingon Bird of Prey, a Romulan Warbird, a Miranda class starship and 20 free traders with ties to the Orion syndicate.  The Breen didn’t bother the sector anymore and the respective governments denied the incident.

Stev had already programmed the holographic projectors dotting the Ghost Rider’s exterior.  Any external visual scan would be presented with the pockmarked surface of a well-used independent Romulan trading vessel.  The computer was also broadcasting a forged identification algorithm that would fool most scanners into reporting the exact same thing.  Just because everyone turned a blind eye towards the goings on at Deep Space 3 didn’t mean he needed to advertise his presence by flying the Ghost Rider into the docking bay.

Stev watched the scanners.  Soon he had the station pinpointed on his monitor.  Minutes later a light began blinking on his console indicating his vessel was being scanned.  Stev kept to his cover and played the part of a smuggler by waiting until he was hailed.  Sure enough five standard minutes after the scan indicator went off; the Ghost Rider’s comm system indicated an incoming transmission.  Stev put it on main speakers.

“Unidentified vessel, this is Deep Space 3.  Please state the nature of your visit,” a clearly human voice requested.

“Deep Space 3, this Captain Teven of the Plaplak Jag’r, requesting permission to dock,” Stev replied affecting a Romulan accent.

Plaplak Jag’r, what is the nature of your mission?”

Stev silenced the comm.  Glancing over at his pet, he asked the enhanced tribble, “Phread what is the name of our contact on DS3?”

According to the mission data we need to ask for Atropos,” the little ball of fur helpfully replied using his computer link.

Thanking his friend by scratching it along its back in an affectionate manner, Stev toggled the comm system, “I have business with Atropos.”

There was brief silence on the other end of the comm system.  Stev mentally counted off the seconds it would take the deck officer to query the computer and verify the information.  When the Vulcan had reached zero he pointed at the audio panel.

As if on cue, the audio panel snapped to life, “Plaplak Jag’r, proceed to docking bay fourteen, berth five.”

“Bay fourteen, berth five.  Roger.”

“Deep Space Three out.”

Stev followed the indicated flight path.  Soon the Ghost Rider was nestled in the assigned berth.  The Vulcan nonchalantly activated the shuttle’s security systems.  He looked squarely at the tribble, “External scanners indicate someone is waiting at the dock for us.”

Phread refrained from sending his response across the monitor and instead chirruped his reply.

Stev stood, “I may not understand tribble, little buddy,” he said looking down at his companion, “but  after all the years we’ve been together, I do know sarcasm when I hear it.”  Ignoring the tribble’s approximation of a human raspberry, he laughed and walked from the control center of his ship towards the entry hatch.

 Stev listened to his ship as the passive security measures cycled into active mode.  To the uninitiated ear the sounds would be mistaken for the normal noises associated with a ship preparing for opening its sealed atmosphere to the environment.  He stepped out of his ship as soon as the hatch opened and looked carefully at his supposed contact.  He was momentarily startled by a familiar face.  His Kolinarh training kept him from betraying his surprise.  This was not the first time the Vulcan was thankful that he did not allow himself to be ruled by the emotions he chose to experience. If this person was his contact, the passersby did not need to know he knew her.  If she was not his contact she didn’t need to know why he was here claiming to be someone other than the person she might remember.  One could never be too careful and he did not need to have his cover broken.

 “The price of Romulan Ale has gone up recently,” he delivered the first half of the code phrase in a casual tone as stepped out of the ship and onto the deckplate of the starbase.

 “Yes, but Klingon Blood Wine is always reasonably priced,” she replied completing the code looking deep into his eyes as if searching for something she thought to be there.

 “Atropos?” he stated more than asked.

December 4, 2010 Posted by | Star Trek, Vulcan Stev | , , , , | Leave a comment

United or Untied: A serialized Stev story Part 1

I’ve been working on this short story for some time.  I decided the only way I’m ever going to finish it is to put it up on the blog.

USS Ghost Rider, Stardate: 2316.07.09
4 years before Stev was rescued by the USS Thunderchild

 Decrypt protocol Scarecrow Gamma:
Retinal scan confirmed:
Password: ********

Scarecrow, your mission is to contact a possible source of information within the underground unification movement on Romulus.  The Hobgoblin is requesting our assistance in this matter in case it is a smoke screen from the Tal Shi’ar.

 Neither the Hobgoblin nor his contacts on Romulus are convinced this new recruit can be sufficiently trusted.  The Hobgoblin does not want to prematurely reveal his presence on Romulus.  Neither do his contacts want to reveal their presence within the unification movement.

 Again, contact this new recruit; confirm through any means necessary his or her veracity.  If authentic, contact the Hobgoblin and pass along the recruit.  If it is a Tal Shi’ar trap, you are authorized to liquidate with extreme prejudice.  Mission data has been downloaded to your crow.  As usual, these orders will decompile after playback.

 End of File

 ——————————–

 Stev sat in the pilot’s chair of the Ghost Rider.  His fingertips were pressed together with the index fingers resting on his lower lip.  He looked over at his pet tribble, codenamed crow, and blew a breath out between his teeth.

 “Phread, do we have any Romulan ships in the camouflage database?” he asked the little ball of fur.

 “Yes an independent trader vessel, as well a military scout,” the tribble’s reply scrolled by on Stev’s monitor.

 “Well I don’t think we need to ask for trouble by impersonating the Romulan military do we?”

 “Agreed.  So we’ll need a Romulan trader cover that’ll pass muster with the Tal Shi’ar?

 “Maybe, check the mission data packet; we might be able to bluff our way in with the Teven ID.”

 The legless mammal meandered across the console as it broadcast it’s reply, “As usual you and Frankenstein are thinking along the same lines.  There’s a shipment of Terran Bourbon waiting for us at Deep Space 3.  The regular courier is an October agent; she’ll be coming along to get us through the Romulan border patrols.

 Stev let his little friend wander up his arm to the crook of his elbow and began scratching one spot on its back, “Great, set course for Deep Space 3.”

 “Will do.

Stev exhaled deeply, stood and walked back to the living quarters compartment of his tiny craft.  It was not a long walk from the command center past the data hub and then through the transporter bay/engine room.  Stev hated this next part but if he was going to get through Romulan security his genome was going to have to register as Romulan and not Vulcan.

 One of the augmentation surgeries that the October doctors had performed on him was a “cloaking field” for his genome.  Working from the theory that the Vulcan genome and the Romulan genome were similar, the doctors had devised a way for any Vulcan, but Stev in particular to mask his genome for a period of no more than seven standard days, the time it took the body to completely “cleanse” the system.  Injecting himself with the “Jekyll compound” (Stev didn’t like the name but it was what it was called), caused his genome base pairs to transpose from Romulan to Vulcan.   The pain was incredible, especially when the Romulan brow ridge began to form.

 The Vulcan put the tribble down on the counter.   Picking up a hypospray containing the “Jekyll compound” he placed it against his neck.  Mentally calling on his kolinarh training, Stev pressed the activator button.  He could feel the formula burn its way into his system.  Every cell in his body seemed to implode and then just as suddenly explode.  His arms shook as he grabbed the sides of the water basin but he made no sound.  He paced his breathing as the cartilage began collecting at his forehead.

 Finally, the procedure was done.  Stev looked up from the water unit and into the mirror.  His Romulan counterpart looked back at him.  He scowled back at the reflection and grunted in a Romulan manner.

 Satisfied with the results, he looked down at the tribble, “Phread?”

 “Yes, Stev?” its reply scrolled across the monitor on the wall.

 “Are we still on course for Deep Space 3?”

 “Even if I had turned off the auto-pilot, I’m not that bad of a pilot that your screams of pain would throw us off course,” it teased.

 “Okay little buddy.  I’m going to lie down.  Wake me when Deep Space 3 is in scanner range.”

 “Wouldn’t it be easier if October made it a less painful procedure?

 “Yes.  I really hate this stuff but if it keeps me alive, it’s worth it.”

December 1, 2010 Posted by | Fluff/Inspiration, RPG, Star Trek, Vulcan Stev | , , , , , | Leave a comment