"Mistaken Identity" Part 3

Last week, we saw First Officer Rocky Jordan forced to assume command of the McAuliffe, while Captain Blanchard lay unconscious in Sickbay, the victim of a mysterious alien probe. If some of the McAuliffe's crew were doubtful about Blanchard's ability to command, they were even less trusting of her chosen XO's suitability for that task. And, to lead her into possible battle at that. For, with a group of unidentified vessels rushing toward the ship, that may well be what lies in store for our stalwart crew! Read on to find out what happens next.

Captain Blanchard sat on the deck in the corridor, deep in thought. She had begun to suspect that she was not on the McAuliffe after all, but had been transported to some mysterious location that had been designed to look like her ship. The seemingly endless corridor had doors placed at appropriate intervals, but she could get none of them to open. And all of her attempts to contact other ship’s personnel had so far been unsuccessful.

The last thing she remembered before finding herself here was encountering a strange vessel during what should have been a routine mission to the Albrecht system. But how she got from the bridge of her ship to this place was puzzlement in the extreme. If she was no longer on the McAuliffe, how had she been transported from the ship? There had to be some answers here somewhere, if only she kept looking . . . and if she could get her thoughts organized. But she was having a great deal of difficulty concentrating on the task at hand without giving in to a rising sense of panic. And that was not like her at all.

Suddenly the captain’s thoughts were interrupted. Alarms sounded throughout the corridor, accompanied by red flashing lights. Red alert! The ship was in danger! She had to somehow get to the bridge and deal with this emergency, whatever it was. Jumping to her feet, she took off down the corridor at a dead run.

=/\=

Jordan ordered Ghegau, “Open a hailing frequency.” She then stood up and directed her voice toward the intercom; “This is Commander Rocky Jordan, aboard the Federation starship U.S.S. McAuliffe. Please identify yourself.”

However, there was no answer. As the XO paced across the bridge, the silence grew oppressive. “Repeat, this is the Federation starship U.S.S. McAuliffe. Identify yourself or prepare to be fired upon.”

The security officer spoke up, “Sir, we are receiving a signal from one of the ships.”

“On screen.”

A strange image then filled the main viewscreen, that of a large humanoid with bright blue hair and beard. He was dressed in a loose-fitting emerald-colored shirt made out of some kind of satiny material, fastened with large gold buttons. “I am Lord Waryn of the Gathering. Why have you intruded into Zingaro territory?” His arms were crossed over his massive chest, and his golden eyes blazed defiantly.

Jordan walked toward the screen, making a conscious effort to keep her voice civil. “Our ship was attacked by a vessel which we traced to this sector. Do you know anything about. . . “

The Zingaro chieftain interrupted the woman, “As you can plainly see, we have no ship in our clan that is capable of attacking a ship the size of yours. However, if you continue to remain in this area, we will be forced to take whatever defensive actions we might be capable of. One little ship might not cause you any harm, but ten of them together might well prove worthy of the task.”

At a gesture from Jordan, Ghegau broke the connection. In answer to her wordless inquiry, she shook her head, “None of the Zingaro ships are any match for us, sir, singly or together.”

Jordan was tempted to order the ship to fire on the chieftain’s craft, thereby effectively silencing his braggadocio. However, she knew that such unprovoked hostility went against what Captain Blanchard would do in this situation, and was quite possibly a violation of the Prime Directive as well. She sighed audibly.

At that moment, the group of Zingaro vessels began to quickly dart around the larger ship, at times approaching as close as they dared before dashing off to what they perceived as a safe distance once more. Jordan was more annoyed than angry, “I’ve had just about enough of this. Commander T’Ku’lhan, can you get a transporter lock on the Zingaro leader?”

“Affirmative, sir,” came the response as the Vulcan’s fingers flew across her console.

“Beam him directly to the bridge.”

Suddenly, Waryn materialized in the center of the bridge, looking mystified and angry at the same time. Following Jordan’s lead, Ghegau pulled her phaser and pointed it at the big humanoid. Finding his voice, he blustered, “What is the meaning of this? I demand to be sent back to my own ship!”

“Not until I get some answers,” demanded the XO. She motioned to Ghegau, “Open a channel to all the Zingaro ships.” Upon a nod from the security chief, Jordan spoke up loudly, “Attention all ships. Lord Waryn is presently a guest on board the McAuliffe. I suggest that you break off your attack immediately, unless you wish to place his life in danger.” Soon all of the smaller craft had assumed standing positions, forming a perimeter around the starship.

Jordan turned on the chief. “Now, suppose you tell me what’s going on here?”

The big man took a belligerent stance. “My business is with Captain Livingston. I’ll speak to no one else.”

Jordan debated inwardly the wisdom of telling Waryn that Livingston was no longer in command of the McAuliffe, and quickly decided against it. “Captain Livingston is unavailable at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” came the response. Waryn crossed his arms over his chest and looked around him with interest, smiling wickedly.

The XO gestured to Ghegau. “You’ll wait in the brig, then.” The security chief moved down and took hold of the chief’s arm.

Waryn attempted to break away from the woman’s surprisingly firm grip, blustering, “You have no right to treat me this way! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Consider it a well-earned vacation,” Jordan retorted, turning her back on him and moved toward the science officer, feigning interest in the readings on her console as she pointedly ignored Waryn.

As the security chief began to escort him from the bridge, the Zingaro chief grew louder in his protests. “I demand to see Captain Livingston right now!”

Seeming to make casual conversation with Lt. Twi Son, the Chief of Sciences, Jordan remarked, “I guess we could always cram the big oaf into a torpedo tube and fire him in the direction of Livingston’s last known location.” Jordan’s sense of humor, which many might label bizarre, was often expressed in the form of sarcastic commentary such as this. She enjoyed keeping those around her wondering about what she was up to.

Ensign Proto spoke up then from the conn. “Wouldn’t that be extremely hazardous to Lord Waryn’s safety, sir?” More than one person on the bridge forced back a smile at the PHC’s question. Humor, not to mention sarcasm, was often difficult for him to comprehend. The reaction of the Zingaro chief was impossible to gauge, as the turbolift closed at that very moment, carrying him down to the ship’s brig.

=/\=

Commander Jordan left Lord Waryn to stew in the brig for a couple of hours. During this time, the Zingaro ships maintained their position around the McAuliffe, waiting for their chieftain. Their patience seemed to be inexhaustible, as judged from their continued silence. The same could not be said for the XO, however, who alternately looked over the shoulders of the bridge crew and pored over computer records as she sat in the command chair.

Finally, Jordan could stand it no longer. She ordered Ghegau to bring Waryn back to the bridge. While waiting, the XO bent over T’Ku’lhan and whispered something into the pointed ear. The Vulcan responded with the slightest nod of her head in the affirmative.

As soon as the Zingaro chieftain stepped onto the bridge, he exploded. “I demand to see Captain Livingston immediately. This is outrageous!”

“Yes, I have to agree with you,” Jordan responded evenly. “However, I must inform you that Captain Livingston is no longer in command of this ship. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with me, after all.”

“You should have told me from the very first that you were Captain of this blasted ship!” Waryn protested loudly.

“Oh, I’m not the captain, either,” Jordan said, smiling crookedly.

The chieftain stamped his feet in irritation. “Then who is the captain of this horrid ship?”

“That would be Captain Adele Blanchard,” the XO promptly replied.

“Then I demand to see her!” Waryn shouted, his face growing purple with rage.

“I’m afraid she is unavailable at the moment,” Jordan answered, almost breaking into laughter, thinking that the chieftain looked at if he was about to explode.

“Then I insist that you return me to my ship and allow my clan to return to their homes!”

“Of course I will,” Jordan nodded. “As soon as we settle this little matter of why you sent that probe to attack us.”

Waryn turned his back on the XO. “I refuse to deal with underlings.” His nose lifted into the air contemptuously.

Jordan’s face darkened for just a moment, before she turned to T’Ku’lhan. “In that case, destroy one of the Zingaro ships. I don’t care which one.” She waved her hand in dismissal.

A stunned Waryn watched the viewscreen, speechless, as a phaser beam darted out from the ship toward one of the waiting craft, reducing it to a cloud of debris. He sputtered and shouted, “How dare you? Those people meant you no harm!”

The XO had somehow forgotten to inform Waryn that, before destroying the Zingaro craft, T’Ku’lhan had transported everyone aboard into one of the McAuliffe’s cargo bays, along with most of their belongings. Here select members of the starship’s security department were closely guarding them. In the meantime, the remaining Zingaro were fleeing toward the safety of the nebula at what was probably maximum velocity.

“Commander, snare the closest of those vessels with tractor beams.” Jordan walked smoothly over to stand directly in front of Waryn, looking him straight in the eye while still speaking to the Vulcan. “Then target forward phasers and wait for my signal to fire.”

Waryn looked as if he was about to soil his trousers. His mouth opened and closed several times as if he was trying to speak, but nothing came out.

The XO continued, speaking directly to the Zingaro this time. “Now, I strongly suggest that you start talking, and do it NOW!” She leaned forward, her eyes blazing.

Then it was Jordan’s turn to back up, a look of surprise on her face as Waryn’s expression changed from fear to apparent triumph. He cackled madly and rubbed his hands together as he chuckled, “My plan worked, it seems!”

Jordan quickly recovered her composure and moved toward the Zingaro once more. Grasping his collar with both hands, she pulled him close so that only he could hear what she said in a threatening tone, “What plan?”

The chieftain assumed an equally threatening tone as he whispered, “Take your hands off me or I won’t say another word.”

A look of disgust on her face, the XO forcefully released her hold on Waryn’s collar and took two steps back, leaning on the console with arms crossed over her chest. “Alright, I’m listening.”

“What I’ve done,” the Zingaro said, gloating, “is to get my revenge on that monster who killed my Jiara.” He looked around the bridge, eyes twinkling mischievously. “That little energy weapon – which we stole, by the way – is slowly shutting down all of the good captain’s cognitive processes. When it is finished with that chore, it will begin to attack the more primitive parts of the brain as well, effectively extinguishing her life one step at a time.” At this, he broke into an evil-sounding laugh.

Jordan took the man by the collar again, this time backing him up until he was against the bulkhead. “What are you babbling about?”

Far from terrified, Waryn spat out his words. “Let Livingston find out that his scheming has taken the life of another innocent victim. Then let him live with that guilt for the rest of his days!” He grinned viciously as he continued, “Oh, and there is no cure for the effects of the ray.”

Jordan removed one hand from the Zingaro’s collar and balled it into a fist, bringing it back level with her head, preparing to launch it full-force at her enemy’s jaw, but Science Officer Twi Son grabbed that fist and prevented her. The Bajoran protested, “No! If you harm him, we’ll never find out how to help the captain!”

Releasing the chieftain with a cry of disgust, Jordan backed a few steps away, her eyes remaining fixed on her adversary. Waryn calmly stepped away from the bulkhead and straightened his clothes with an expression of indignation. The XO spun on her heels and marched back to the command deck. “Take this THING out of my sight, and let him enjoy the hospitality of our brig for a bit longer until I decide what to do with him.” She took three deep breaths, trying to calm down.

After Ghegau and one of her guards had escorted Waryn from the brig, T’Ku’lhan spoke up. “Commander, when Waryn was speaking, I was reminded of an encounter that this ship had with the Zingaro almost five years ago. The McAuliffe was giving chase to a raiding party when one of the Zingaro’s vessels experienced an engine overload. Captain Livingston ordered the transport of all on board to this ship, but it exploded before transport could be completed.”

Taking a seat, Jordan listened rapty to the Vulcan’s words. “Yes, I think I see where you’re going with this.”

“It may well be that this Jiara whom Waryn was referring to was on board that vessel, and that he blames the former captain of this ship for her death.” T’Ku’lhan shook her head slightly. “How very illogical to hold such a grudge for so long, but then Waryn appears to be a highly illogical being.”

The XO nodded thoughtfully. “No, it sounds like a highly logical explanation, at least it does to me.” She closed her eyes for a second, pondering this latest development. Could it indeed be true that Captain Blanchard was merely an innocent victim of some crazed being’s quest for revenge?

“Even so,” Twi spoke up from her station, “we still have no idea how to help the captain.” She rubbed her nose ridges absent-mindedly. “If we knew who the Zingaro got the ray from, that might help us out.”

T’Ku’lhan nodded in agreement. “I’ll begin to scan Starfleet’s weaponry database for any reference to a similar device.”

“Good,” Jordan said as she rose from her seat and headed for the turbo-lift. “In the meantime, I’ll be in Sickbay.”

So, we may know who is behind the attack on the McAuliffe and her captain, and why. But our heroes are no closer to finding a solution to their problem, are they? Will this situation change? Will Rocky Jordan find a way to make Lord Waryn talk? Return here next week to find out.