Blythe Bridge

The ship dropped out of warp, seemingly alone, though the Slivin was 20000 kelicams off their port quarter. Tyler and Kerak had made a plan to have the Slivin remain cloaked unless a combat situation erupted.

“Science teams begin your sweeps. Those assigned to Honour Guard duties remain on standby. We have a mission to complete here everyone, let’s get it done.” Tyler said over the intercom. And no stutter this time either, he noted of himself.

“I’ll prep the Irrawaddy for launch in about 10 minutes sir.” Wong said from the rear auxiliary station which had been assigned to the science department for the duration of their mission.

Tyler, knowing that his XO was locked into the situation and had stayed up to date on everything they had learned on their run in, was sending him and the Irrawaddy to make second contact with the Formicans. Both the Dergans and Formicans had responded to their communique of a day before, and both were willing to meet with Starfleet representatives. Based on the situation, Tyler decided to send the Irrawaddy, escorted by a cloaked Slivin to meet the Formicans as they were a warp capable species and standard protocols could be followed. The Captain, the Diplomat and the Blythe would proceed to Derganix and make the more sensitive contact.

Since cultural contamination had been made by a third party that the Federation ostensibly had no influence over, the protocols for contact with the Dergans would be far more strict. Extra care and attention would have to be made to not further or exacerbate any contamination, and if possible they were to do what they could to reverse any harmful effects of the contamination. It would be a delicate mission to say the least.

“Sir, I’m picking up two vessels approaching us from the direction of Formica. They appear to be Ferengi style ships.” Ingram said.

“Ferengi style Commander?” Tyler asked, prompting him for some more information.

“Yes sir. They look like modified Ferengi Alliance type 56 long range shuttles.”

“Modified how Vaughn?” Wong added from the console across from him.

“They’re a bit bigger, and they have fore-mounted disruptor beams. They are on an intercept course, they’ll arrive in about 15 minutes.” Ingram replied.

((Slivin, Bridge))

‘Weak prey, but not too weak to be entirely devoid of glory.’ Kerak thought to himself.

“We have confirmed Captain, there are 3 orbital stations in the system and 23 vessels of various types.” Lt. Mereg reported from the tactical console.

“Shall I move the ship into an ambush position when the shuttles arrive Captain?” Kerak’s niece, Lt. Bamet said from Navigation console.

‘Impertinent wench, just like my sister….but she’s not wrong.’ Kerak pondered to himself.

“Make it so. Assume a position 10 Kelicams behind the shuttles when they arrive.” In that moment Kerak had also decided who he would appoint as the XO of the Slivin.

“What do you think Plej? Is there any glory or honour to be found in this system.” He passed the irregular yet ergonomically shaped Klingon data device to his Chief Steward.

As Plej reviewed that data showing all the different vessels and orbital facilities in the system.

“That one station in orbit above the Ant world appears to be a stripped out D’Kora class Marauder…and the Formicans appear to have giggles of ships parked around it…the 3 Dergan ships identified here appear to be nothing more than spheres with thrusters on them. The glory may be in not destroying them, but figuring out different opportunities, My Captain.” The old servant replied.

“Plej, the eternal pragmatist. Bwahaha. You may be right…”

((Blythe, Sickbay))

“So Patron my man. When were you going to tell me about the Polluxian pilot we rescued a few weeks before I reported on board? And also your medical reports didn’t mention you informing Ingram that he was a god…did you tell him what he was after you revived him?” The CMO said as she came hovering out of her office. The diagnostics records of the incident when they had rescued the nearly frozen solid Vaughn from his ejected cockpit were clear. He was part Polluxian.

“Uh, no, Jelka prostrating herself at the gates of Telumm! What is a Polluxian? I studied all the physiologies of all the species aboard the Blythe and my other previous duty stations, I have not heard of that species.” The Child of Tama replied. He had honestly thought it was his own heralded remedies that had revived the frozen man. He had not even realized that the man’s Starfleet record showing he was a full blooded human was in err.

“Oof…this is gonna be super weird then. Can you call Ingram down here please, when he is off duty is fine, it’s not an emergency…shit this’ll be my first time telling someone they’re actually a demi-god.” She went back to her desk and sent a quick message to the ship’s counselor requesting her to come to sickbay, pronto.

((Derganix, Barka’s Apartment))

Now, Barka wasn’t just the Deputy Launch Director for the Derganix Space Program, he was also a former orbital pod/scout ship pilot, the 6th Dergan in space, and he was also one of the main heroes of the final phase of the ‘Great Struggle’(Their name for their brief but deadly war with the Formicans that ended in a ceasefire and stalemate nearly 50 years before). At 90 years of age he was decidedly middle with the average Dergan living to 145 and some reaching 170 before becoming entirely lame.

“I just wanna munch out Unk, like fa real. I’m not into going to work today. I mean thanks for yesterday and all, but I’m not nearly as hooked as some of these other heads out there. Yaaaawn! Might crash out for another hour though if you don’t mind.” His nephew said before lying back down on the couch.

“Oh, maybe you forgot the job I offered you and that you signed your hoof to last night?” Barka said with a grin as he took a sip from his morning root juice standing at the island in the kitchen.

“Oh, no I remember, and I appreciate it, but I’m just not into it today, I’ll start tomorrow, just gonna get my munch on today.”

“It’ll be tough to munch out if you’re replicator privileges are revoked. The job as my assistant is a Mandatory Attendance job(only specific jobs in the Space, Defense, Agriculture and Food Service Industries, carried this designations due their critical nature in the survival of the species)…but dont worry you got 27 minutes before the speeder arrives to take us to the office. May sure you wear a nice hat today, its your first day on the job.” Barka pointed to he walk mounted rack that had dozens of hats.In all other jobs employees could take up to 100 of the 210 work days off each year whenever they chose to, as a vestige of free range times of their species evolution. But the hat, all Dergans saw as status symbols, only the lowest of the low born didn’t wear a clean suede Fedora style hat. Though since the Cabbage epidemic the younger Dergans were starting to buck tradition and not wear hats as some nonsensical form of youthful protest.

His nephew sat up from the couch, wide eyed. He hadn’t read the part that mentioned it was a ‘no no-show’ job. He must have been reaaaaaly munched out last night. But that wasn’t why he was wide eyed. His uncle had just offered him one of his hats. A very high honour among their species.

“You mean you’re gonna let me wear one of your hats Unk?”

“No, you dipshit, I’m gonna let you pick a nice one and then keep it. Hurry up and get ready, unless you have to eat at one of the communal troughs.” Uncle Barka snipped, grabbed his drink,then turned and walked into his office. As his back turned, he smiled, there was hope for his sister’s kid, at least he still respected and appreciated the Hat unlike some of others his age. It was certainly a double edged sword, because Barka knew his nephew would head out and “get his munch on” when the work day was over, but atleast he’d be earning it.