Negotiations: Strike

Posted on Mon Sep 14th, 2026 @ 4:48pm by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant Bartholomew Hale & Lieutenant Daegan Baas & Lieutenant Daltom Vesper & Lieutenant Sylar & Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae

1,841 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: The Invisible Hand
Location: Diplomatic Conference Room | Deck 4 | USS Thunderbird
Timeline: MD005 - 0900

An hour later, with an agreed upon number of guards present, the two ambassadors met in the Thunderbird's seldom-used Diplomatic/VIP Conference room which had been immaculately prepared by the ship's Diplomatic Officers. The temperature had been raised somewhat, as a mid-ground between the needs of the two species, and they sat on either side of the table with Tasat to the Captain's right and Oryx to the Captain's left. The two Ambassadors sat across from each other and in Norsgaard's opinion, wisely kept to himself, the tension was almost a palpable thing in the room.

Assuming her seat, Oryx gave Tasat a nod, "Ambassador Tasat, thank you for meeting us. Before we begin, I note the adjustment to our arrangements and accommodation for additional security for you while you are aboard the Thunderbird. For the record I, as Federation Ambassador, both acknowledge and understand your reservations regarding security and believe them to be well founded. The Federation also wishes to acknowledge the Cardassian delegation, and Gul Zelar and the crew of the CDS Ocett for your time and efforts in attending these meetings."

Tasat, with Gul Zelar at his side, looked across at the Federation representatives. Thinking to himself, ~Typical Federation platitudes and pleasantries, such a waste of time.~ "Thank you Ambassador. Those previous incidents, while impacting these talks, are not the reasons we are here. As you know the recent Federation-Cardassian Treaty redrew the border between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. Former Federation worlds that are now under Cardassian rule have become a focus of terrorist activity from a mix of colonists aided by Starfleet personnel."

The Selay ambassador listened, her reptilian face placid, her fingers placed firmly on the tabletop. Until the assertion of Starfleet involvement appeared. A finger flexed instinctively. "The acts of the Maquis are truly despicable, and the Federation condemns these acts as the Cardassian Union does." Her gaze settled on Tasat. "However, the assertion that Starfleet personnel are aiding this group is serious. What evidence does the Cardassian Union have of this involvement?"

Tasat slid a padd across the table to his counterpart. "The clearest evidence is the attacks on our supply ships by Federation peregrine class fighters." He grinned as she looked over the information. "But to add to that. Did the Federation really believe it would be able to keep the defection of it's people and officers over to the Maquis a secret? Starfleet Officers hunting other officers. It would be quite entertaining if it weren't for the attacks tied to these...Would traitors be to strong a word for you?"

"Ambassador Tasat," Oryx exhaled slowly. "The Federation openly condemns any officer who abandons their obligations to participate in attacks against the Cardassian Union. This is a public position that you are aware of. However, your evidence does not establish Starfleet or Federation involvement. A defector is not a Starfleet officer; I'm sure you judge a Cardassian military member the same way. We would both, in that case, deem them traitors. Our efforts to halt this activity are evidence of that. As for the Federation vessels, they are of Federation design, yes, but I would insist on evidence that Starfleet or the Federation has knowingly supplied them to the Maquis."

Tasat looked at the representatives opposite him. "Colonists don't just find armed fighters at their disposal and given the past events that took place on this very ship I question your so called efforts or even competence in halting anything. But I am glad to hear that we are in agreement on their status as a traitor because these people and any other terrorist will be treated as such. My government has instructed me to inform you that, due to these attacks, we have no choice but to send in warships as escorts."

The sound of the red alert klaxons boomed throughout the ship followed by someone from the Bridge crew saying, "Captain to the Bridge."

"Ambassadors, remain here, I'll see what's going on," Norsgaard said as he excused himself and took off, running for the nearest turbolift. Moments later, he was back at the command chair and barking out, "Report."

"Sir, we picked up something on sensors. A distortion, I think."

"The Federation abandoned the border," a voice boomed across the Bridge. "Cardassia buried it. Today, both will remember us!" And as the message was delivered a small ship, barely big enough for a two man crew, decloaked alarmingly close to the ship.

"Hard to port," he ordered. "Brace for impact." The Thunderbird turned sharply causing the shuttle to hit the outer edge of the saucer section rather than its original target. The resulting explosion tore through several decks. "Security, locate the Ambassadors. Put me through to Engineering."

Daltom looked at the Captain. He could not do much on the bridge, but perhaps he could assist with the diplomats. "Captain, would you like me to handle the Ambassadors?"

Norsgaard turned toward the Counselor and nodded. "Make sure that they're both somewhere safe. That would be a big help. Thanks."

"On my way," Daltom answered.

[Deck 17]

With the apologies of the two petty offers involved in a brawl the night before still echoing off the walls, the doors to the Brig had barely closed when the red alert klaxon began to blare. “This cannot be good,” Lieutenant MacRae murmured under her breath as she set off for the nearest turbolift.

The journey seemed to take forever, pausing on occasion to allow others off at various decks on her way to the Bridge. Or at least reaching the Bridge was the plan. Until it wasn’t.

Just as the doors were closing on deck 5, all hell broke loose. Time seemed to slow as explosions tore through the deck, fire and heat racing towards them. The force of the explosion struck them first, knocking them off their feet before the doors could close and save them from more serious harm. Most of them.

There was a scream and as she pushed a young ensign away from her with a ‘move!’ she saw a young woman writhing in agony as flames burned her arm. Peeling off her uniform jacket at the same time as another officer, they used the jackets to smoother the flames just as the woman passed out.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Caitlyn asked, peering around the small group. A few bumps and bruises perhaps, but nothing seemed as serious as the young woman.

“The lift isn’t moving,” someone observed. . “And the control panel seems to be out. We are only a deck away from sickbay… the door feels a little warm….”

Assuming Sickbay is in one piece, Caitlyn thought to herself. “Everyone please try to stay calm while we figure this out,” she urged. “Whatever has happened we will get out of here and help her.”

Rescuing her comm badge she secured it to her undershirt, tapping it to open a comms channel. First task, deal with the injured. “MacRae to Sickbay.”

=^= "Sylar here, please state how Sickbay can assist, Lieutenant." The doctor's voice sounded perversely calm, as if the ship being torn apart from explosions was utterly routine.

It was a relief to hear the voice of their CMO, and she could see that in the faces around her. “Doctor, we have a crewman with severe burns mostly to her arm and side of her neck. She’s passed out but we seem to be stuck here in the turbolift for now. Is a site to site transport to get her to Sickbay an option at the moment?”

=^= "Lieutenant, a site-to-site transport is inherently unsafe; power to the transporters has not returned to acceptable parameters. I assess," he said flatly, "that it is compromised by the damage to the ship. There is an unacceptable risk, approximately seventy three point five percent, of molecular destabilisation. I will come to you with a medical team. Until we get to your location, keep the casualty as still as circumstances permit. Ensure the airway remains unobstructed and monitor respiration and consciousness. Do not apply anything to the burns beyond basic emergency care."

There was another pause.

“Understood. Just … please be careful Doctor,” MacRae cautioned. She hated not knowing just how badly the ship was damaged or exactly how many injured… let alone what had happened. For now she had a small group to take care of and that would have to be her immediate focus.

"I am leaving Sickbay in approximately fifteen point five seconds. I apologise," Sylar sounded slightly annoyed, "that I cannot be more precise. Sylar out." =^=

[Sickbay]

Sylar completed his final assessment of the patients in Sickbay, committing their vital parameters to memory before turning them over to the attending medical officer, Doctor Redstone.

"Doctor, continue monitoring. If either patient's condition deteriorates, inform me immediately."

He took a medical tricorder from an orderly, checked that it was calibrated as he required, and clipped in into an emergency medical kit from its station. "

For a moment, he considered remaining in Sickbay. He was Chief Medical Officer and there were already casualties here. The ship was sustaining damage. Additional injuries were probable and it was logical that they would be sent to Sickbay. From a purely logistical perspective, the rational course would be to remain where medical resources were concentrated. The conclusion was sound and compliant with Starfleet Medical procedures. But...

It was also incomplete. The personnel trapped in the turbolift were already injured, and at least one casualty had sustained significant burns. Their access to medical intervention was presently limited to whatever Lieutenant MacRae could improvise. The probability of their condition deteriorating while awaiting rescue was therefore greater than the probability of Sickbay requiring one additional physician in the immediate term. And while he assessed that his Sickbay would perform satisfactorily in their Sickbay, he had yet to assess their competence in away missions or attending incidents around their own ship. The ship rumbled again and Sylar raised an eyebrow as an unsecured hypospray fell to the deck.

The calculation was straightforward. There was little value in being concerned by circumstances that could not be altered. There was considerable value in responding to them appropriately. Sylar proceeded into the corridor, with two of his medical technicians, armed with maintenance equipment to clear what ever debris lay between them and the turbolift.

"Doctor, you have the Sickbay."

He tapped his commbadge. "Lieutenant MacRae, I am proceeding to your location."

“Understood, Doctor,” came the reply, “Deck five seemed in bad shape, we are still on that deck but can’t tell if the fire suppression systems have done their job but guessing by the heat in here, I’m guessing not.”

---

Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird

Ambassador Oryx
Representing
United Federation of Planets
(written by Lt. Bartholomew Hale)

Ambassador Tasat
Representing
Cardassian Empire
(written by Lt. Daegan Baas)

Lieutenant Daltom Vesper
Counselor
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird

and

Lieutenant Sylar, M.D.
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thunderbird

 

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