McMillan

Captain RoBobby McMillan sat in the center chair of the Intrepid class USS Gibraltar, looking at the viewscreen. He didn't see much though: he was lost in thought. His mind went to the communication he had gotten from Starfleet Command about an hour ago. It had been one word, and one word only: Carolina.

For quite some time already, Starfleet Command had been looking for the Gibraltar's sister ship, which had dropped under the radar. Had it been destroyed? Had it been captured? What had happened to the crew? Nobody knew. In the end, Starfleet had given up on the Carolina, declaring it and its crew Missing In Action.

At least, that was the public story.

Captain McMillan knew better. He had been contacted by Starfleet Intelligence a while back, because of his experience chasing the renegade Slade. And while his mission hadn't been the success he or Starfleet had hoped for, McMillan still had the most experience with going after renegades. That was exactly why Intelligence had recruited him. They had, after all, kept tabs on the Carolina crew. That was, the ones they knew of. Keeping track of Colonel Auer had been a pain in the backside: it soon became the most hated job in the Intelligence taskforce. But it had finally paid off. Colonel Auer seemed to have teamed up with a couple of others, stolen a Defiant class vessel, and left. Rumour had it Seelowe was with them, but not the Captain Seelowe McMillan knew so well. This was a different one. A Seelowe clone from the future.

McMillan sighed to himself. In response to Starfleet's message, the Gibraltar was on its way to Starbase 38 for further orders. He hated to leave the survey of the nebula unfinished, but this was important. He wondered to himself what his next orders would be. . . but he knew it'd probably be to go after Seelowe, Auer and whomever else was there. This, he realised, would be interesting. . .

There are two?

“There are two of him?” Illyan questioned in shocked amazement and a tinge of horror.

“Seelowe is not just Seelowe.” Arado said when he tried to explain to her why the man who had given them this Defiant Class ship was now no longer around. “There are two of him that we know of. One of him is from our time, our reality. The other, the one you met, is some sort of clone from the 29^th century.”

“Feel lucky you’ve only known two. “ Colonel Serp Auer muttered from the helm where he was piloting the ship towards the docking bay of the supply station that was their next destination on this seemingly foolish mission.

“The one you’ve met, the time travelling one,” continued Arado, “he’s not our captain, but he’s not that bad when you get to know him.”

“Yeah and when he isn’t suffering delusions of grandeur,” came another mutter from the helm, “or trying to get us killed on some death-wish mission of his.” The ship lurched as the Colonel tried to line up the docking clamps.

“I’m not sure I want to get to know him as well has he intends,” said Illyan as she began to wonder exactly what she had gotten herself into by joining this crew. “And what is this Carolina you keep talking about?”

“Carolina is a very special ship…our ship. She has disappeared,” replied Arado. “and the crew is scattered and stranded throughout space…. and time. You fill her in Serp”

The armoured mercenary seated at the helm controls locked the last docking clamp then swivelled in his seat and faced Illyan.

“The Carolina is an Intrepid Class ship that is sentient,” he said.

“Sentient?” said Illyan as she rubbed her temples. “Oh great, just what I need.”

“But that’s half the fun,” chuckled Auer. “She’s as likely to kill you as Bekkers, but she will do it in your sleep.” There was a whine of servos and the squeak of metal against metal as the cyborg man stood. “Let’s go get our pilot,” he said heading for the door. “I’m much better at killing than flying,” he chuckled again.

Auer led the way on to Supply Station 359 and straight to the bar with the confidence of one who had done this many times before.

“Well, well, well,” he bellowed as he strode across the almost empty bar room, “there’s an Andoran monkey I haven’t seen for some time.”

The blue-skinned woman at the bar stood and turned as the hulking cyborg approached.

“Colonel Auer? You are a sight for sore eyes,” she said with at grin.

“You are a hard person to track Miral. Yes it is me and I have brought another old friend.” Auer stepped to one side and revealed Arado who was frozen to the spot staring at the woman with his mouth slightly agape.

“Lieutenant Arado!” she said happily. “You’ve changed a bit,” she indicated the Bajoran nose ridges, “but I’d recognise you anywhere.”

“Miral! Is that really you?” Arado reached out a hand hesitating whether to touch her or not.

“The one and only,” Miral grinned, grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug.

“But… how?” stammered Arado as he took a step back and looked at her, “I mean…last I heard you were…dead”

“I was, but some ‘friends’ brought me back to life,” she said cryptically. “It’s a long story…” she went quiet for a moment but then she brightened, “…and look, they gave me back my own legs into the bargain.” She danced a little jig showing off her new, non-cyborg legs.

“That is just….amazing,” beamed Arado as he gave her another hug.

Miral hugged him back, “I’ll tell you all about it one day,” she whispered in his ear.

Illyan watched the whole episode with growing incredulity while running through a quick mental check list.

“A time-travelling clone,” she thought. “A sentient ship, a cyborg mercenary, a Bajoran who isn’t, a Vulcan who is a Romulan, and now a dead Andoran with new legs.” She shook her head. “I must be either dreaming or loosing my mind.”

Colonel Auer’s booming cybernetic laugh broke her thoughts.

“So Miral, are you up to joining us on a possibly lethal mission looking for the Carolina?”

“You bet I am, how could I refuse,” answered the Andoran cheerily, “but where is Captain Seelowe?”

“With the Carolina most likely,” said Auer.

“Right then,” said Miral. “Let’s get down to business. What Kind of ship do you have at the moment?”

“Defiant Class,” chimed in Arado. “Can you handle a Defiant’s helm?”

“Better than I can, I’ll bet,” muttered Auer.

“Haven’t sat at a helm yet that I couldn’t master,” said Miral confidently.

“I need to warn you,” said Arado, “this is not an official Starfleet mission…they’ll be after us, and so will half the rest of the galaxy who want to lay their hands on the Carolina.”

Miral nodded, “Under stood,” she said solemnly

“That’s why we need the best pilot we can get,” said Arado looking at her meaningfully.

Miral grinned. “Well I guess you are in luck. You’ve got the best right here,” she said cheekily.

Arado grinned back and under the armour plating Auer was grinning too.

Illyan felt a little excluded and pointedly cleared her throat.

“Oh,” said Arado as he turned and introduced her to Miral. “This is the newest addition to the crew. Doctor Illyan. Seelowe hired her… but he seems to have disappeared again.”

“Greetings Doctor, it’s nice to meet you,” said Miral

“A pleasure as well,” replied Illyan.

“And I’ll help you find Seelowe,” added Miral.

“I don’t understand,” said Illyan to Arado, “This woman knows this Seelowe and she still wants to find him?”

“Illyan, the Seelowe you have met is not our captain…he’s…different,” said Arado. “It’s difficult to explain, but you’ll see.”

Illyan frowned and looked unconvinced, “Can’t wait,” she muttered.

Miral looked from one to the other, “Is this all there is? Where is the rest of the crew?”

“I’ve been searching for them and I’ve got leads on a few,” said Arado. “But I just can’t find any reference to Hlad anywhere. I’m not even sure if he is in this time line.”

Auer’s servo’s groaned a bit as he shifted position at the bar. “I know where Bekkers is, Arado,” he said as he downed a drink. “As for the goat,” he was referring to their cloven hoofed Megan engineer, “I’ve had the occasional sniffs of where he is.”

Illyan added another name to her mental checklist.

“This Bekkers you speak of,” she said cautiously, almost afraid to ask. “Who is he?”

“Put simply,” growled Auer, “he is five homicidal personalities in a heavy armoured cybernetic shell.” He swallowed another drink. “And that is on a good day.”

“But he’s a real kitten when you get to know him,” added Arado, “…unless your name is Seelowe.”

“Yeah, with Seelowe it is love, hate,” continued Auer. “One moment he loves his captain to death and will protect him with his life, next he’s trying to murder him as violently as possible.”

“And you are going to put this Bekkers and Seelowe together,” said Illyan with disbelief. “On our ship?”

“It’s a risk we have to take,” said Arado wryly. “His loyalty to the Carolina and her captain has been proven beyond question. We need his muscle to protect us while we search, and we have Auer here to keep the muscle from ending the search prematurely.”

“So, Bekkers is to protect us, and Auer is here to protect Seelowe from Bekkers,” said Illyan.

“A delicate balance,” smiled Arado.

Illyan crossed her arms and gave Arado a sour look. “Who is going to protect ME from Seelowe?”

Auer let out a loud booming laugh and slammed another empty on the bar, “Bekkers will.”

Illyan looked around at her fellow crewmates. “I think I’m going to like this Bekkers,” she said, and smiled for the first time that day.

Cantina

“I think he’s in here,” muttered Arado to Tumim as they entered the cantina and looked warily around the dimly lit lounge. The man they were looking for was sometimes hard to find particularly if he didn’t want to be found. He was also hard to define, sometimes mercenary, sometimes patriot. He was not just a loose canon he WAS the canon, a walking arsenal, armoured and reinforced and almost indestructible.

“Barkeep!” a voice bellowed from the corner, “Another flaming wookiee!”

“Ah, there he is,” said Arado nodding towards the man seated in the corner with a massive canon strapped to his back and black helmet sitting on the table.

The man finished another drink and slammed the empty on the table. “Barkeep!” he bellowed again.

Arado approached the man cautiously, “Colonel Auer…long time no see,” he said quietly

Colonel Serp Auer turned his head and raised an eyebrow, “Never thought I’d see you again Arado. You’ve changed a bit but I’d recognise you anywhere.”

“Mind if we sit down,” said Arado.

“Sit at your own risk,” said Auer, “I know why you are here and what you want.”

Arado and Tumim both raised their eyebrows and turned to look at each other with mild surprise then back at Auer.

Arado leaned across the table, “Colonel…there are three things I need from you. A pilot I can trust, some muscle and a set of Starfleet access codes. Can you help?”

Auer slid a data padd across the table, “I can provide the codes, the pilot and…well….” he looked down at himself and chuckled, “…a lot of muscle.”

Arado reached for the padd but stoped with his arm suspended over the table watching in stunned amazement as figure strode across the cantina directly towards them.

“Oh looks,” said the approaching man in an overly loud voice, “a family reunion!”

All three stared at the man, he was wearing a close fitting uniform with an unusual blue trim, he had the face of their Captain but they knew from his voice and attitude that he was not.

“Speechless, I know,” he said condescendingly, “I have that effect on people.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” said Arado through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you just go and stay in the 29^th century.”

“Oh that’s a fine way to say hello,” said the time-hopping Aimhigh Seelowe from the future. He pulled up a chair and sat down, “So who is leading this merry band of misfits?” he said smiling around the table. “Not Auer…please say it’s not Auer.”

Auer chuckled, “Oh that’s a thorn in my hairy ass. No, I’m not in charge, just a fellow tormentor and guide.”

“A guide?” laughed Seelowe. “Anyways…” he looked around as he spoke, “I heard you were getting the band back together and were searching for the Carolina.” His eye alighted on a woman sitting at the bar. “Since we were all so close….” he said with mock sincerity as he looked over Arado’s shoulder at the woman, “I thought I could…” he stood up, eyes fixed on the woman, “…lend a hand….” His voice trailed off and he started walking toward the bar.

“Well,” began Arado, “we are trying ….” He stopped as he watched the man walk away. “Seelowe…?”

Seelowe waved him off as he approached the woman. “Hello there my beauty,” he said with a lecherous smirk, “You are certainly not with this motley assemblage of riff raff.” He nodded toward the other three. “My name is…well…what’s in a name.” He moved in close beside her, “You can call me darling.”

The woman at the bar slowly turned her head and looked the man up and down. She had been watching the other men from the bar and following their conversation. The mention of a ship had caught her interest.

“If you are looking for the bought women, they are out the door and across the street,” she said turning herself away from the man who had approached.

“Every woman has her price, my dear,” said the man.

She turned back, “But no one has come up with my price,” she said mildly.

Arado, ignoring the show at the bar, continued his conversation with Auer.

“Serp, do you know of anyone who could remove these nose ridges on the quiet. No questions.” He said rubbing his finger up the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had enough of hiding as a Bajoran. If I’m going to be an outlaw I want it to be in my own skin.”

“I could do it,” Serp Auer chuckled tapping the canon on his back, “but I might take your head off too. I know there are a few good robo docs around though.”

“You don’t look as if you need a doctor,” piped up the woman at the bar as she caught the end of the conversation.

“I don’t ‘need’ a doctor,” said Arado turning towards her. “But…”

“I might know where you can find one,” she said with a smile, “but the price is high.”

“And what would YOU know about doctors my pretty barfly?” joined in Seelowe.

“You could say it’s a close acquaintance,” said the woman.

“Is this acquaintance reliable?” asked Arado.

“As reliable as the amount of latinum in your pocket,” she said and sipped her drink.

Seelowe looked down at the woman. “And where do we find this…um…doctor my lovely ale swilling princess?”

The woman raised her hand and gestured around, “Oh here, and there,” she said nonchalantly.

“I see,” said Seelowe with a sneer.

The woman bought her hand up and tapped her chest, “But mostly here,” she said with a slight sound of triumph in her voice.

Seelowe snapped his head back and gave her a look. “Wait…” he questioned. “You’re a doctor?

“More to me than a pretty face,” she said sipping her drink again.

“Apparently,” said Seelowe with undisguised amazement. He turned to Arado, “Hire her. You’ll need a doctor.” He looked back at the woman. “I will be the first to get a physical,” he said with a smirk.

Auer grinned and muttered to himself as he finished off another drink, “How much things change yet they stay the same.”

“I should mention one….small problem,” said the woman quietly from behind her drink.

All four men turned towards her.

“Oh?” said Seelowe.

“There is a man,” she said. “He…well…he owns half the planet, and he has decided I should…shall we say…show him my devoted friendship.”

“So what you are saying,” said Seelowe, “is that you are a slave and you need to get off this planet and we will be on the run if we take you…right?”

“I’m a free born citizen,” said the woman with dignity. “Bacca has taken a fancy to me but the feelings are not shared.”

“He owns half the planet and you can’t muster up a little fake enthusiasm to share the wealth?” said Seelowe in amazement.

“You obviously have never laid eyes on Bacca”

“Is he uglier than Auer?” Seelowe pointed at the armour clad man seated at the table.

The woman shifted her eyes over to the mercenary and the corner of her mouth lifted softly, “Your friend is not bad at all,” she said.

Seelowe turned back to the woman his mouth open. “She is a blind doctor,” he said with mock horror. He looked down at her and smiled, “Come, stand up my pretty.”

The woman folded her arms and looked him firmly in the eye. “If you want to keep all your body parts after I ‘examine’ you I suggest you drop the ‘my pretty’ when addressing me.”

“Fine, fine,” said Seelowe hurriedly. “What is your name….doctor?”

“Illyan…” said the woman, “Illyan Nal.”

“Do you want off this rock or do you want to make babies with Mister Ugly Planet Owner?” asked Seelowe.

Illyan sighed, knowing all her other attempts to find passage had failed. “Can you manage to get me off this rock with my neck intact?”

“Yes,” said Seelowe, “Yes I can. Now stand up and come and join us.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” said Illyan moving toward the table where the others were seated but still addressing Seelowe, “You are getting a doctor not a whore for your bed.”

“Wow,” said Seelowe acting shocked “was I THAT obvious?”

“Nooo…” said Arado, as he offered Illyan his chair, “You were being Captain subtle over there.”

“Anyways, Arado…” said Seelowe moving his own chair unnecessarily close to Illyan’s, “what was your plan before I graced you with my presence?”

“Get a ship, hire a pilot, gather as much of the crew as we could find, and go looking for Carolina,” said Arado.

“Great,” said Seelowe, “I can cut out the middle man. I have a ship.”

“Do you have a pilot?” asked Arado.

Seelowe pointed across the table at Auer, “Him.”

“I mean a proper pilot,” said Arado. “He won’t be able to do helm and tactical if things get hairy.”

“Hey,” piped up Auer, “Leave my ass out of this. Arado, I have your pilot.” He tapped the data padd sitting untouched on the table. “I been trying to tell you, I have the location of Miral.”

Arado gaped at him, “You mean Miral is alive?”

“Of course she is alive,” said Seelowe breezily. “Everyone is alive at one point in time…or another.”

“So Arado…” continued Seelowe, “unless you have a better plan, we can grab our pilot after we go through the wormhole and get on my temporal vessel.” He smiled smugly around the table at everyone. “Then we find the Carolina and take her back to my time so we can study…um…protect her.”

“No!” Arado slammed his fist hard on the table and glared at Seelowe. “No, you are NOT going to vivisect her just to satisfy your morbid curiosity.”

“It’s just a ship,” said Seelowe testily, “We’ll put her back together.”

“A sentient ship,” emphasised Arado, “she can FEEL. And it’s not you she is calling for, it’s her crew”

Illyan looked around at the four men then tossed back the rest of her drink in one gulp. She needed something to give her courage to join these insane people on their ‘mission’.

“Fine, fine,” said Seelowe knowing he needed them almost as much as they needed him. “Do you know where your Captain is?”

“I have no idea where our Seelowe is,” said Arado as he sat back in his chair with a sigh. “He could be anywhere…or any time.”

“The one thing we do know…” said Seelowe, “the one piece of temporal intelligence we have is…find Seelowe, find the Carolina.”

“He’s with the ship,” said Auer impassively.

Seelowe looked at him. “The ship was empty. I was there. No one was left on that ship.”

Auer chuckled, “She makes her own tricks.”

Seelowe continued to stare at Auer.

“Think Seelowe,” said the colonel as he tossed back another drink, “You know that ship as well as me.”

“Find Seelowe, find the Carolina.” Seelowe rose and began pacing around the table. The others watched him silently as he continued talking to himself. “Maybe… Seelowe was… with the Carolina…” He shook his head. “No…it means…Seelowe is WITH the Carolina. It makes perfect sense. All we need to do is find her, board her, find Seelowe, and the ship will be tamed.” He sat down and smiled triumphantly.

“Seelowe,” said Arado, “We still haven’t agreed on anything.”

Seelowe looked at the other man in surprise. “You have no ship, no money, no plan. Not a very good position to bargain from.”

“He does have me,” grunted the walking weapon from across the table.

Seelowe rolled his eyes. “Good thinking Auer. Kill the guy with the ship. Brilliant.” He added mockingly.

Arado remained calm. “I can get a ship, I do have a plan, and I have a way to track the Carolina.”

“Of course I could just tag along,” said Seelowe flippantly. “I’ll just watch. Don’t mind me. I won’t get in the way.” He feigned biting a nail.

Illyan looked around at the others and shook her head wondering what she has gotten herself into.

“Arado,” growled Auer, “I say we take his offer. It’s better than stealing a ship and besides he’ll have a better ship than any we could get away with.”

“I agree,” said Arado. “But we will need a specific person on board, someone who can track the Carolina.”

Seelowe looked up from his nail, “Who?” he asked with interest.

“You may know her,” said Arado. “Mimp’s sister Miki.”

“You know where she is?” said Seelowe the nail forgotten.

“I know where she lives and I know she’ll be looking for Mimps…” Arado looked carefully at the man who looked like his captain, “and for you…either one of you.”

Seelowe swallowed once then paused for a moment before standing and addressing everyone at the table.

“I guess we have a deal.”

He tapped his 29^th century com unit.

“Five to beam up.”

Unadecal (part 2)

Unadecal Arado

Part 2 The Relliketh years

Arado watched as the Tal-Shiar operative de-materialized next to him. He then turned his gaze to the full glass of cold, crisp and blue Andorian Ale that had been placed before him without him needing to order. As he stared into it, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled and downed the drink in one go, replacing the empty glass on the table. He winced slightly at the sharp, bitter aftertaste, but the synthohol content in this facsimile made it devoid of the punch that the occasion demanded. He needed something stronger.

He stood up slowly and headed for his quarters. Once there he changed his clothes and then sat at his desk. He hesitated for one fleeting moment before opening a drawer and retrieving the hidden bottle of real Andorian Ale with real alcohol, strong enough to fuel a runabout. He poured himself his first glass of the evening. As he drank, his fingers fidgeted with the communicator he had just been given. He placed it next to the tall, thin glass, poured himself another drink and opened a different drawer. He took out a box, placed it carefully on the desk top and opened it with reverence. Inside were a few carefully arranged items from what was now the distant past, another lifetime even: his old comm badge, phaser and tricorder from the Carolina, as well as other mementoes he had collected since joining the Bajoran Militia. He sat there, motionless, staring at the objects for a few moments as the memories flooded in and then drank another glass of Andorian Ale, and another. And another...

*** *** ***

The distinctive round doors of the airlock rolled open with the characteristic high pitch of the mechanical actuators to allow the passengers and crew from the transport that had just come through the wormhole to disembark onto the Cardassian-built space station, which, since the end of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor had been run by the Federation. The transport brought the usual mix of traders, holidaymakers, returning exiles and, of course, the odd shady character. This transport was special, for it was carrying someone who should have not been there. Or to be more precise,…then.

He had been ejected from the ship where he was Science Officer by the ship itself, and had landed in the Gamma Quadrant, several years in his past. It had taken him six months of star hopping bartering the skills he had acquired while serving as a Starfleet Officer for passage and a modest income that allowed him to reach the Bajoran wormhole. By then he had realized just how far back in time he had been sent. He immediately realized that he would have to go underground. He would not be able to make himself known without risking irrevocably contaminating the timeline in this reality and making himself a target for 29th Century Starfleet Temporal Officers. But that would not be so bad. They may put him in prison, or maybe return him to his own time, but in order to attract their attention he would have to significantly alter this timeline by approaching Starfleet and warning them of forthcoming events such as the Dominion War and the fall of the Romulan Empire. And if he did that they would surely place him in a most secure facility and keep him there for all eternity, debriefing him of all the knowledge he had acquired through his posting on the Carolina. That would not be pleasant. Even less pleasant would be to become a target of every single intelligence organisation in the galaxy. No. He had to go underground, start a new life and bide his time. But first, he needed a new identity. The chaos in which the Bajoran administration had been left after the Cardassian occupation ended and its subsequent links with the Federation provided him with the ideal opportunity to start over while keeping his finger on the pulse, so to speak. He had found someone who altered his appearance to look Bajoran, and he had studied Bajoran culture and history as he approached the wormhole hop after hop.

And now he was finally here. He felt the surge of adrenaline course through his body as he disembarked and set foot on the Promenade. So far, so good. He rented short-term quarters and began to access the Federation and Bajoran databases designed to reunite former prisoners and exiles with families. He was not looking for a new family. Instead he was looking at patterns and reading up on events as related by those who had lived them. That enabled him to build a back story which was plausible enough to be believable and could be corroborated to a certain extent as far as general details were concerned. Any lack of evidence could easily be ascribed to the chaos created by the occupation.

After a few months he had settled on Bajor, joined the Bajoran Militia, attended the newly established training programmes where he had to disguise and play down the knowledge and skills he had acquired through his Starfleet training and years of active service. It was difficult but he succeeded to the point of being offered a bridge station on the newly commissioned USC Relliketh, the flagship of the fledgeling Bajoran Fleet without ever giving himself away. It was then that he had met a much younger Mimps Masala, almost fresh out of the Academy and on secondment to the Relliketh as a Science Officer (his own station). She was on an exchange programme designed to assist Bajor in preparation for formal inclusion in the Federation. She was young, she was beautiful, she was brave and, above all, she was resourceful. It was torture to sit next to her almost every day for over a year and share the atmosphere of the bridge, the frequent dangers, the workload, the excitement, without revealing himself but he just could not chance that or he would put himself, the ship, and, worst of all, Mimps in grave danger. He often asked himself if now that they had met in this new reality of his, would she remember him as the Bajoran Science officer she served with on the Relliketh or would their meeting as Starfleet officers on Raisa remain their first ever encounter in her own reality. One day he may yet find out.

A few close encounters with randomly-appearing wormholes in the Gamma Quadrant, spurred him on to study the phenomenon and research ways to not only create artificially stable wormholes but also predict and determine where and when they may lead to. It is true that his efforts had not met with much success, but it is also fair to say that his research was never a priority for a war-ravaged Bajor who was struggling to rebuild itself. Of course, he could not approach the Federation or other powers better able to fund and resource his research, so he retired to this isolated rock on the Gamma Quadrant to continue on his own.

*** *** ***

As the wake-up alarm went off the following morning, he slowly emerged from his alcohol-induced stupor with a very dry mouth, a splitting headache and side order of nausea, but he also had the seedling of a plan....