Prologue Three: Meeting on The Muse
Posted on Mon Jun 17th, 2024 @ 11:25pm by Captain Aisling Banerjee
3,857 words; about a 19 minute read
“You dropped this, sir.”
Aisling looked up from the personnel report…and up yet more. Sven Bergqvuist, lieutenant commander (formally) retired, held out her small ‘scribbling’ padd. How anyone that large could move so silently she had no idea.
“I’m sure I did not,” Aisling murmured. She hesitated, then not-quite snatched the padd from his huge paw, “Where did you find that?”
“…Doctor Bral found it in Sickbay. It apparently slid under her desk. She recognized it the moment she saw it.”
“Ah. Yes. It must have slid under there when….”
Aisling closed her eyes. She could remember ensign Breca coming at her after he had swung a laser scalpel at Bral’s head, the doctor clutching her arm, her blood a crimson spray across the deck. Aisling grabbing her rapier, slashing at Breca’s arm, then instinctively ducking as nurse M’Dod swung at her head. Another slash, a kick to the rising Breca’s face, dragging Bral to her office, sealing it, raising an emergency force field.
Looking out and seeing M’Dod laying on the deck, blood pooling on the ground from a slash to her jugular.
Aisling slipped the padd into the inner pocket of her tunic, “Thank you, Commander, I-“
“I understand you write, sir.”
“I...Yes. I write.” Or, she used to. It had been a year since she had written anything. A year since…
She sensed the bridge crew all but pausing in their duties. A crew of strangers. Since that day Starfleet had taken every young person from her, replaced them with those returned to service by the emergency reactivation clause. Younger crew were now assigned to newer ships, while Cygni looked much like an ancient retirement home. Granted, everyone was competent, even friendly and good natured, eager to help.
They were still strangers, most of them.
“Have you…talked about…”
“Commander,” Aisling paused, regarded him. His kind eyes. He was a grandfather, she was probably as old as his youngest daughter or the like. And he wanted to help.
“I have talked,” she finally said, “The counselors got around to speaking to me. I am fine. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“I apologize for overstepping my bounds, sir,” Sven murmured, “No one here can imagine what you went through. But you are working yourself rather hard and-“
He was interrupted by a chirp from Tactical. Gorman, usually taciturn, noted, “Short burst message from Starfleet Command, Captain. We are to break off survey of Nebula four twenty Sigma and rendezvous with…” she blinked, “…the…Muse of Fire.”
Aisling’s eyebrows rose, “What…”
“On it,” Justin replied as he manipulated his console. He was an almost annoyingly cheerful man, Aisling had a feeling he had been terminally bored with retirement, “Ah…okay…and…wow…”
“Is that a good ‘wow’ or bad wow, lieutenant?” Aisling inquired, smiling slightly despite herself.
“Oh, sorry, Captain. Let me throw it up on the big screen,” he tapped a button and soon the Muse of Fire appeared on the forward monitor.
“…Wow indeed…” Aisling murmured, eyebrows lifting…as well as her mood as a new mystery presented itself.
*
“This is weird.”
“You are telling me,” Aisling replied as she inspected herself in the mirror. No matter how sharp her uniform was, not matter how perfect her hair was in the bun, she was still five feet tall. At least the flawless golden skin and vibrant green eyes lent an striking air to partially offset her vertical challenges. She checked the bindi to insure it was centered properly, and nodding, turned to her XO.
Sven, grimaced and unconsciously brushed an imaginary bit of lint from her shoulder, “I wish someone was going with you. We don’t know these people.”
“They are ex-Starfleet,” Aisling replied, careful not to add “like you’, “They are not Ferengi traders. And they sound fascinating. After the dinner we will rotate the crews, have them go over and catch some shows, a concert or two. They have a bazaar, it sounds fascinating. The crew could use a good leave, see some strangers’ faces. Perhaps a quick romance or two will ensue.”
Sven murmured, “Their captain looks quite the rogue. He might be one to be wary of.”
“Concerned for my virtue, Commander?”
“Oh, I gave up worrying about the ‘virtue’ of women the day my oldest caught me spying on her while on her first date,” he tapped the side of his head, “The ear still rings from that particular ‘conversation’.”
Aisling found another reluctant smile crossing her face. It was very difficult to not like this man.
“He does look like quite the scoundrel, doesn’t he?” Aisling murmured, “I wonder if he and his first mate are an item.”
The first mate, now she was interesting. Devin Hadenbeer…now why did that name sound familiar? Something from her Academy days…
Her comm badge chirped, Gorman’s voice was heard, “Captain, Muse of Fire has signaled, says they are ready to accept you.”
Aisling turned to Sven, “You-?”
“Don’t forget this,” Sven held out her padd.
Aisling grimaced, then with reluctance accepted it and slipped it into the pocket in her tunic.
*
Devin Hadenbeer wore a simple black dress cinched at the waist by a gold belt, her thick auburn hair was worn loose about her shoulders. Aisling began to say, “Permission to…come…”
She stared about the transporter room. It was all done up in wood paneling, even the floor. And as she looked down even the transporter pad looked as if it were made of wood. And…yes, the transporter control console was similarly paneled as well.
“It takes a little getting used to,” Devin noted with a slight smile, “And permission granted, Captain. Welcome to the Muse of Fire.”
Hadenbeer proved to be only a little taller than her, Aisling noted as she stepped off the pad and shook hands. She led Aisling out into the hall which shared the same paneling.
“Is the entire ship like this?” she asked.
“Most of it,” Devin replied, “Bridge looks like a normal bridge, Engineering looks more or less like what you would expect. Much is in places where visitors would frequent. I-“
A middle aged woman with mussed hair approached, “Oh, Devin! Glad I caught you. Perry is complaining about his part and I was wondering-“
“Tell Perry I will catch up to him after dinner,” Devin said, “I am not about to put you in the middle as go-between.”
The woman frowned, “But Perry is so…”
“Milly. Perry’s pouting is a little less intimidating than a Jem Hadar shooting at my head.” Devin replied as she placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She added confidently, “I can handle him.”.
‘Milly’ hesitated, then nodded with a nervous smile and shuffled off.
“Milly and Perry are part of a Tudor era band,” Devin explained as they resumed their walk, “They play period instruments and I have been composing new music for them. Perry is…well, he is a good musician. Problem is, he knows it.”
“Sounds like you have a new series of challenges facing you,” Aisling replied diplomatically. She very much wanted to ask why Devin had been incarcerated but was not at all certain how to slip that into a conversation without sounding boorish.
Devin said, “You read my record.”
“Yes,” Aisling replied after a pause.
“I would have done the same,” Devin replied with an almost impish grin.
The dining room was an intimate affair, the table large enough to seat six although the only person to be joining them was Jack Sunbear. He stood as they entered, he wore black trousers and boots with a form fitting tan shirt that proved he was very much taking care of himself. He warmly shook Aisling’s hand and seated her to her right while Devin sat on his left. He poured them all a glass of red wine, the vintage wasn’t bad.
Conversation was lively, Jack was not hesitant to talk about how The Muse of Fire played host to a wide variety of creative types, of their travels through Federation space. And the pair were quite interested in Aisling’s career. Perhaps it had been the wine but she grew more than a little gregarious as she spoke of a few of her own adventures on the Cygni.
“It is a small ship,” Jack noted, “That must present challenges.”
“Oh, certainly!” Aisling replied as she casually waved her fork around. The spaghetti was delicious, it couldn’t have been replicated. And they must have done their homework on her because the sauce was meatless, “But that just makes the work more interesting. I-Oh, pardon me,” she set down her fork and reached into her tunic and pulled out her PADD, she murmured into it, “Ship full of entertainers, traveling city of bohemians, murder happens. No, wait: multiple murders. Murders based on a theme. Murders based on Shakespeare plays, murders based on-“
She froze, saw the pair looking at her. She stared down at her hand and realized what she had done. Self consciously she set the padd down. In the silence she murmured, “I…I write. And sometimes when I have an idea I need to make a note of it so I don’t forget it.”
“I see,” Jack replied, “So our ship has provided some inspiration for you.”
“I…yes. Sorry.” She felt her face heat. Damn wine. She hadn’t drunken any spirits in years, forgotten about how it went to her head so quickly.
“Why should you be sorry?” Devin replied as she held up a padd of her own, “It is for the uncreative types,” she glance at Jack, “To suffer our eccentricities.”
Sunbear chuckled, “I think ‘endure’ is much more diplomatic.”
Devin smiled at him, then turned back to Aisling, “And the Muse would certainly make an interesting setting for a holo adventure.”
“Oh, I don’t write holo novels!” Aisling exclaimed, “I write books. I find holo novels to be an acceptable medium, but you can’t very well slip a holodeck into a carryall, can you? I love books in that wherever you are you can lose yourself into another world.”
“Do you only write mysteries?” Jack inquired, clearly interested. Devin seemed to be as well.
“Oh, I have written a few adventure stories, especially when I was younger,” she laughed, “They were terrible! I was so embarrassed. I kept writing myself into the stories, you see. I was just a girl and I kept imagining myself in these grand quests.”
“Like helping a Starfleet intelligence officer stop an assassination attempt,” Jack suggested. Devin gave him a strange look
“Yes! Exactly! I read these novels about a girl my age, Venture Jones, and I-“ she glanced at Devin, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Devin replied. It had almost been like she had heard a loud noise, the way she had flinched. Strange. She said, “So, you read those.”
“You are familiar with them?”
“I am.”
Aisling paused, “Well, they were written by someone named Hina Troel, which is an odd name, but…” she paused, “Wait, your ship was the Lionheart, right?” before Devin could respond Aisling lifted her padd and began typing. She frowned. L-I-O-N-H-E-A-R-T…rearranged the letters.
“Are you…Hina Troel?” Aisling asked, suddenly excited in a way she hadn’t been in months. “Wait, you’re niece is named Dare, right? Venture Jones? Dare? Were you writing about your niece?”
“I….” Dare rubbed the back of her neck, and now Jack seemed to be acting strangely, as if he had heard something, “No, I can honestly say I am not Hina Troel.”
Aisling turned to Jack, “Are-“
“Not I,” Jack assured her.
“But you know who Hina Troel is,” Aisling said, “He or she were a member of your crew, weren’t they? The name is an anagram of your ship.”
“Damn, she is quick,” Jack murmured appreciatively.
“What…” Devin grimaced for some reason, “What else have you read from Hina Troel.”
“Well, I read her mystery novel ‘Targ’, which was about a dishonored Klingon who had to perform a thousand deeds to-“
“A hundred,” Jack said.
“Right, yes, a hundred,” Aisling turned to him and blinked, “Did you read it?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know it was a hundred?”
“Did you say a thousand to trip us up?” Devin inquired.
“No. Yes. Maybe?” Aisling glanced at them both.
“Did you…like the book?” Devin asked, the pause curious. Very curious.
“Oh, yes. It was partly what inspired me to write my first mystery novel, The Caves of Blood, about a disgraced Andorian police detective who has to finish a case regardless of what it will cost him. But there were no more ‘Targ’ novels as Hina Troel disappeared. Did Hina die?”
“No, she did not die,” Devin replied.
“So Hina is a woman.”
“No…” Devin began.
“Hina was a woman but is now a man?”
“No. Look-“
Jack stepped in, “Aisling, do you like cats?”
What a random question! Aisling glanced between them. Then it struck her.
“You are equipped with subcutaneous transponders,” she murmured, “Someone is feeding you questions.”
“Captain,” Devin began.
“Some mysterious person wants to remain anonymous and is feeding you questions. A ship run by former Starfleet officers, traveling throughout the Federation. Are…” she glanced between them, “Are you spies? Are you…trying to recruit me?”
“N-“ Jack began.
“What if we were?” Devin inquired, waving a hand at Jack, who relented.
“I…what if I said ‘no’? Would you des-“
“No!” Devin and Jack exclaimed at the same time, both now looking quite concerned. After a pause Devin said, “We could adjust your memory; the technique has been around for decades.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.”
“But we aren’t spies.” Devin assured.
“Now I sort of wish I was,” Jack noted wryly, “It would make me look more romantic.”
“I am now growing concerned here,” Devin stated, frowning, “We have obviously put the captain on her guard and now she is worried she has stumbled into some conspiracy that would threaten her and her ship,” she turned to Aisling, “This…all right, yes, this is a…job interview of sorts. But the…unusual nature is due to us wanting to keep the third party’s identity secret.”
“Is it Hina Troel?”
“You seem very fix-“ Jack began.
“Yes,” Devin replied with a sigh, “And ‘Hina’ wants to know your stance on cats.”
“Can I meet…” Aisling took a breath, “Honestly, I am indifferent to cats. We never owned one. Or a dog. We had a parrot.”
“What was the parrot’s name?” Jack inquired.
“Polly.”
“Oh.”
“Amorous.”
Jack blinked. Then he smiled. And then Devin smiled. And then the pair began to laugh. Aisling felt the tension bleed out of her and she laughed as well. Oh, gods, it had been so long since she had laughed! They shared the moment for almost a minute…until Aisling realized there was a fourth person at the table, to her right, laughing with them.
The woman resembled Devin but was half her age, she wore a similar dress. And she seemed to find the name of the parrot utterly hilarious. Jack, Devin and Aisling’s laughter died down but the fourth person’s humor did not seem ready to abate any time soon. Finally the young woman wiped at her eyes and took a breath to compose herself. A final laugh escaped. She swallowed and regarded Aisling.
“Okay,” the woman said, “You have a ship like the Muse of Fire. And on it are an elite group of, of spies,” the woman shook her head, “No, not spies.”
“Thieves,” Aisling said, absently reaching for her PADD.
“Spies and thieves!” the woman replied, “Oh, they travel around, performing elaborate cons on people-“
“Bad people.” Aisling added.
“Yes! Bad people. They are actors, and technical experts, and masters of disguise and languages.”
“And there should be a big, strong one. Because having a big, strong one on your team always comes in handy!”
“And they sometimes take on jobs for the Federation and Starfleet, but work mostly for themselves.”
“They have to have a name. The Troupe? The Cast…”
“The Cast! And we can have clever names for the books, like ‘The Die Is Cast’, and, and…”
“Missed Cast.”
“Missed Cast! I love it!”
“Cast a Shadow!”
Aisling sat back in her chair and regarded the young woman, the woman beamed at her.Then she paused and said, “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m Elle.”
“Aisling. I…did you transport into the room? I didn’t hear…”
Elle shook her head, “Oh, no! This is a hologram. I suffer from a rare medical condition and have to be isolated. This is an idealized representation of myself.”
Aisling blinked, “I…pardon me, but do people actually believe that?”
Elle paused and glanced at the others.
“Damn,” she murmured, “She’s quick…”
*
An artificial intelligence. It was not unheard of. Voyager’s Doctor had achieved sentience. But this one was essentially the ship. An artificial intelligence that was supposed to be illegal in Federation space.
Aisling was not certain how to process that. Starfleet had ordered her here to have dinner, and then…this. So…Starfleet was aware of Elle’s existence. Or they weren’t, and were collectively idiots.
“How…” Aisling paused
“Do you think ‘Castanet’ is too clever?” Elle asked. She glanced at the others, “What do you think?”
“I think that conversation ended long ago,” Devin noted wryly.
“Why does Elle look like you?” Aisling asked Devin.
“I consider her my Mother,” Elle explained, drawing Aisling’s attention back to her, “Not my creator, which was a pan-dimensional being whom I think wished to spawn life…which now that I think of it made them a pretty lousy parent. I was dropped into Devin’s ship, the Lionheart-A. I learned most of my morals and ethics from her.”
“The woman sentenced to twenty years and reduced two steps in rank taught you ethics?”
Jack almost snorted out a mouthful of wine at that.
“Ah, but the sentence was commuted,” Devin noted with a slight smile, “And morals compelled me to follow the dictates of my conscience.”
Aisling glanced at the pair, “You were convicted because Starfleet found out about Elle.”
“I am afraid of how smart you would be if you weren’t half drunk,” Devin noted.
“But why is Elle here?” she turned to Elle, “Why are you here and not on a Starfleet vessel if they know you exist?”
Elle cocked her head, “You are on a roll, work it out.”
Aisling enjoyed a challenge, “All right. Starfleet lets you exist, but you are not on a Starfleet vessel. So..they let you go. Only they wouldn’t let you go, they would have deleted you.”
“Which is a polite euphemism for ‘murder’, Captain,” Elle brightened, “Sandcastle!”
“Elle…”
“Sorry, Devin.” Elle certainly did not sound sorry.
Aisling ignored the byplay, “They couldn’t kill you,” she had it, “You are blackmailing Starfleet!” her eyes widened, “Oh, my goodness. You are blackmailing the Admiralty. Just…just what do you know that would terrify them?”
Elle leaned in close and murmured, “You would not believe half of it. The other half might get you killed if you knew.”
Jack stood and snatched up the half empty bottle of wine, “Come on, Devin. I think these two have much to discuss,” he nodded at Elle, “And not about books.”
“Aye, Captain,” Elle replied as Devin stood and followed Sunbear out. After the doors swooshed shut the hologram turned to Aisling, “And now, the big question.”
“Why am I here?”
“Why are you here. Because I am I am going to download into a Starfleet vessel and undertake a dangerous voyage. A voyage to other dimensions. Devin and Jack have been on such a voyage.”
Other dimensions? That sounded…incredible. Incredibly exciting. Aisling swallowed and asked, “So…why aren’t Devin and Jack leading this…expedition? If the Admiralty is willing to take you back those two wouldn’t be a problem, I would think.”
“Because I love them and do not wish to place them in harm’s way.”
“But I’m okay?” Aisling replied wryly.
“Well, I don’t love you. I mean, I like you. And…” Elle paused, “Sorry, ‘Cast Away’.”
“Okay, that is a very good one. But…”
“Right, yes. I love them. And to paraphrase a famous captain, risk is your business.”
“So it is,” Aisling murmured with an appreciative nod. She turned serious, “But if it is dangerous then the Cygni is no ship for this mission. The Equinox was lost in the Delta Quadrant and was chewed up terribly. You would need a far more capable vessel.”
Elle nodded, “Yes, absolutely.”
“And…I would have to leave Cygni.”
Elle nodded again, her expression turned sympathetic, “Yes. Absolutely.”
*
“I feel terrible about this.”
“Why?” Sven inquired from the doorway, “This is a good thing. You deserve to advance. And…” he hesitated, “Look, Captain, I realized I have taken many liberties with the way I have spoken to you and I have appreciated your patience with me. If I may be permitted one last liberty, this ship is no longer a home to you. Almost all your crew is gone and it seems they took all the good memories with them and left the pain behind.”
“I allowed you the liberties, as you put it, commander, because I respected your intentions. And, well, all right, let’s be honest with one another. I have been all but sleep walking through my job this past year. Sleep walking through life, really. You are a good person. You will make a fine captain.”
Sven winced, “Oh, no.”
Aisling grinned, “Oh, yes. Until such time as they find a replacement you are for the big seat. Who knows? Maybe command might suit you.”
Sven grunted skeptically as he stepped aside for her, he said, “I will insure all your personal effects get to wherever it is you find yourself.”
“Thank you,” Aisling replied as she adjusted the duffel bag strap on her shoulder as she stepped past him into the corridor. She felt him follow her to the transporter room and was surprised to find the corridors lined with the crew. Aged faces regarded her respectfully as she made her way down the corridor, she heard a murmured ‘ma’am’ here, ‘sir’ there, ‘captain’.
“If you were sleep walking,” Sven murmured behind her, “No one noticed, sir.”
They reached the transporter room where Chief Turgor waited for them, one of the few of the original crew left. He regarded her with a sad smile and said, “I will miss you, Captain. You made life interesting, that’s for sure.”
“That word has more than one meaning, chief.”
“Which is why I used it, Captain. Good luck, sir.”
Aisling gave the chief a nod, she met Sven’s eyes and they almost twinkled.
Or, Aisling thought, smiling to herself, maybe that was just the transporter effect…
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