About the Stardate
Season three of Deep Space Nine starts at Stardate 48212.4, which corresponds to March 19, 2371 in our calendar, and the season ends on December 17, 2371. There's no recorded Stardate for The Die is Cast, which is around the time The Endless Endeavour entered the Bajoran system, but I assume it falls somewhere around October 2371.
The USS Voyager went missing on April 26, 2371, so it took them roughly six months to return. Given the nature of Warp travel, it wouldn't have felt that long to the crew, and given the stops along the way and the distance, they did very well thanks to the clam Warp in the Star Trek galaxy.
Rogue Trader
Part 29
The Promenade – Deep Space Nine.
When I first set foot on the space station, the first place I went wasn't Quark's—though I would visit there very soon—nor did I go to Ops, the command centre of the station, to speak with Captain Sisko. Instead, I headed to the mineral assay office.
This part of the Promenade was designated for space traders who wanted to stake mining claims and assess the value of minerals and other geological finds. It was about as thrilling as it sounded, but it was still a useful location to have on board this space station.
That such a place existed despite the availability of replicators might seem odd to some people, however, it was important to keep in mind that some materials either couldn't be replicated or required so much energy to create via replication that mining them was still cost-effective.
An example of this was duranium, which, when alloyed, was used in the hulls of starships and space stations. There was an entire stock exchange built around the buying and selling of duranium.
My first major roll using the Codex Celestial had given me 750,000 units of plasteel and 500,000 units of diamanite. Not all of it had been used for repairs, and I had also acquired plenty of materials while in the Delta Quadrant, so I had minerals to sell.
I wanted to convert some of these resources into Bajoran currency to have money to spend on the station. I knew Starfleet would pay me a reward for bringing their lost officers home—I had a perk to ensure that—but it wouldn't happen immediately, not given all the chaos going on.
It was undignified for a Rogue Trader to barter over small sums of money, but now that I was in the Alpha Quadrant, I needed to establish business connections and accumulate wealth so I could make deals with the locals.
Thankfully, the sale of valuable minerals didn't take long. Once I arranged for the transferred goods to be moved to the appropriate cargo bay, I got paid.
When that was done, it was time to go to Quark's bar. I wanted a drink and to relax now that the long Warp jump was over and we had found safe harbour.
"That was rather boring," Kes commented "I hope you take us somewhere more fun, Master".
Given the many races and cultures that visited the station—even if it wasn't particularly busy at the moment—my companions didn't stand out too much, though they did attract admiring glances.
No one commented aloud. Even if some disapproved, they weren't foolish enough to insult the man in command of a massive starship. The chainsword at my side was also an effective deterrent.
Despite her calling me Master, Kes wasn't a slave; she and Annika just preferred to call me that rather than captain or my lord for reasons that made sense to them. Perhaps they just thought it was a bit kinky.
When we entered Quark's and I saw the Dabo girls, I realized I might be the only one who appreciated scantily clad women. Perhaps it was demeaning and sexist, but I didn't care. I was the Rogue Trader—I lived my life as I pleased, and the women in my life tolerated it.
Spoiler
"This place should prove more stimulating," I promised Kes.
T'Pol had no interest in commerce, drinking or gambling, so she had gone off to gather information. That left me with Annika and Kes, both of whom were curious about the space station and wanted to see what it had to offer visitors.
"You must be the captain of The Endless Endeavour," said an ugly-looking alien.
Who else could it be but Quark? And he was even uglier in person. Not that his appearance mattered—I wanted a useful contact, not a friend.
"Yes, I am the Rogue Trader, Maxwell Thrax, Lord-Captain of the frigate The Endless Endeavour," I stated.
My title seemed to momentarily halt Quark as he processed it.
"Welcome to Quark's, Lord Thrax," he greeted me. "I'm curious—what exactly is a Rogue Trader?".
The bar wasn't particularly busy, so he had time to talk, and he clearly recognized my importance. Otherwise, why else would he pour us free drinks? His kind weren't known for their generosity.
"That's not a question I can answer simply," I admitted. "But I will do my best. A Rogue Trader is a powerful, independent explorer and merchant who has been granted a Warrant of Trade. It's my government's way of saying I am free to explore and trade as I see fit when beyond the space they control".
I elaborated further.
"You could consider me an ambassador for my people, as well as a merchant," I explained. "I have the authority to make deals and spread the Imperium's influence beyond its borders".
Quark took a moment to consider my words.
"You sound like a powerful DaiMon with a mighty starship," Quark commented.
He explained that DaiMons were starship captains who were authorized to explore new trade opportunities on behalf of the Ferengi Alliance. They were often empowered to negotiate on its behalf in important matters.
That the one race in this galaxy with something akin to a Rogue Trader happened to be the Ferengi shouldn't surprise anyone.
"Lord-Captain, is it true you came here from the Delta Quadrant?" he asked. "How long did that take?".
Time in the Warp didn't align with time in real space, so we hadn't experienced the same duration as the rest of the galaxy.
"I believe it was not long after Stardate 48307.5 when we set out, but we made a few stops along the way as we needed to make some shorter jumps before making the main jump home," I shared.
Which, in my old life, would have been April 23, 2371, and since I knew the current Stardate it was easy to work out that the USS Voyager would have gone missing about six months ago. Considering the mess with The Forge, we'd made good time when crossing the galaxy.
No doubt Quark was working out the implications of this because if my ship could cross the galaxy in half a year, then it wouldn't take long to traverse the whole of the Alpha Quadrant.
The sight of the Ferengi who smelled potential profit gave me a flashback to my life as an Imperial Navy officer who once saw an Ork during a boarding action.
"Rogue Traders also look for worlds for the Imperium to colonize as well as new trade routes," I told Quark.
The alien listened intently.
"Sounds like this Imperium of yours uses you Rogue Traders to carry out the Ferengi Rule of Acquisition #45: 'Expand or die,'" he said.
That sounded like part of the Imperium's attitude.
"So, you're an ambassador, explorer and a businessman," Quark summarised. "That means you'll be looking for investment opportunities, trade deals, and perhaps some entertainment while you're here on Deep Space Nine?".
That was my interest in this place, beyond having a safe harbor to dock while the ship resupplied and got some proper repairs done.
"Let's just say I'm always looking for useful business partners," I stated. "I have a large and powerful warship at my command. I'm sure there are people out there who could do with my services".
I tasted the drink he poured me and didn't much care for it.
"Remind me to introduce you to amasec," I said. "There might be a market for it in these parts".
Amasec was basically a kind of whisky—or at least some versions of it were. Sometimes it was also a kind of brandy, which made it confusing as you didn't always know what you were drinking, however, the better quality stuff was smooth going down and had a decent kick to it.
"I heard that you brought back the USS Voyager's crew. That's quite the feat—Starfleet must be expressing its gratitude," said Quark.
Starfleet officers were valuable because not only were they an investment by Starfleet due to all their training, but the experience they obtained and their on-the-job training often made them useful in many roles.
"Let's just say my efforts will be rewarded in due time," I said.
That should give me enough money to properly stock my ship.
"I have plenty of information about parts of the Delta Quadrant if that is of interest to anyone," I mentioned.
Starfleet wasn't the only organisation interested in acquiring data for scientists to look over.
"Of course, of course," Quark said smoothly. "And in the meantime, you might be looking for some profitable ventures?".
I was sure he had some ideas about that. While he started finding out if anyone needed the services of a massive warship or information on the Delta Quadrant and could make it worth my while, I went to try my hand at the Dabo table.
During our long Warp jump to the Alpha Quadrant, I'd had time to start developing my psyker powers, so a little telekinesis should help to make some more money, and I'd also started to learn how to get glimpses of the future, although that was mostly in my dreams, but I was learning to enhance my insights.
The further you looked into the future, the less clear things became, but if you wanted to win at 3D chess and annoy a certain Vulcan female while doing so, then it was a useful talent to develop.
Annika and Kes followed me, curious about what I was up to. Well, Kes was curious about everything, and Annika, having grown up on a small starship, hadn't seen much of the galaxy either, so she was interested enough to watch.
Since I was well used to having scantly-clad females around me, the Dabo girl, who was dressed to distract players, failed to get my attention. There were only a few customers at the bar for now, so the amounts getting bet weren't very high, but I was sure that I could still make a little profit.
Time passed very quickly as I learned to play the game, and attracted the attention of others who were interested in seeing my winning streak or trying to break it. Not that many tried the latter.
Dabo was a roulette-style game of chance developed by the Ferengi that would have fitted in well at many a casino in Las Vegas. When one won, it was customary to shout "Dabo!", but I let Kes handle that for me as she quickly got into the spirit of the game while I focused on winning.
I let out a victorious chuckle as the wheel landed in my favour yet again, adding another small stack of winnings to my growing pile. Annika and Kes stood nearby, the former watching impassively while the latter giggled at my apparent streak of good fortune when she wasn't yelling Dabo for all to hear.
"Quite the lucky man, aren't you?" Quark commented.
I met his gaze, offering a roguish smile.
"A Rogue Trader has to understand the whims of fortune better than anyone," I said.
He knew I was cheating, and I knew he was going to cheat, so I didn't feel bad about rigging the game in my favour.
I knew that when Quark gave a signal to the Dabo girl who was running the table, she subtly adjusted the controls beneath the wheel. The next spin would be rigged against me, but I saw that coming a mile off.
Carefully, I placed my next bet, making a show of considering my options. The moment the wheel began to spin, I reached out with my mind, nudging the mechanism ever so slightly. The wheel stuttered for the briefest of moments before clicking into place—once again, in my favor.
"Perhaps you and your lady friends would like a complimentary hour or two in the holosuite," the bartender offered "I have a wide range of programs for you to enjoy".
Kes's interest was piqued right away.
"What's a holosuite?" she asked.
It was Annika who answered.
"A holosuite is a place where people can go to enjoy many simulated environments," she explained "I've never used one, but my parents told me about them".
Kes gave me her best puppy dog eyes. How she had learned to do that given that her people didn't keep pets I had no idea, but I found myself giving into them none the less.
"Do you have anything that appeals to the adventurous types?" I asked.
Quark soon returned with a tray of rods that contained holosuite programs for us to try. I might well seek some amusement given that there were not many people to play Dabo with and I had no duties on my ship to get my way of having fun.
Part 30
Starfleet Headquarters - San Francisco
Acting-Captain Katherine Janeway, formally of the USS Voyager —or rather she was simply Commander Janeway again since she didn't have a ship to command—was not looking forward to this briefing, even if she felt things should go her way, at least for the most part.
If things went poorly, she might find herself with no Starfleet rank at all by the end of this meeting, even if it was highly unlikely she would face any criminal charges for her actions, and later have to justify her actions during a trial.
Even the presence of her old friend Tuvok at her side was little comfort, given that her recent actions were about to be reviewed by a small group of admirals who now held the future of her career in their hands.
The loss of any Starfleet vessel required an investigation, even when the circumstances were well understood. Most of the work had likely been completed before Voyager's crew had even returned to Earth.
Starfleet Command had access to Voyager's sensor data and the logs recorded by its officers. No doubt, the Admirals and their analysts had spent hours going over the data, dissecting exactly what had happened to both the USS Voyager and the USS Equinox, even though both cases were nearly identical.
The more experienced Captain Ransom was even now sitting through an inquiry in a nearby room—one composed of different officers—and no doubt he was defending his actions just as Janeway would have to do once this meeting got started.
Given that Tom Paris, who had for a time been part of Voyager's crew, was Admiral Owen Paris's son, some might have questioned whether or not the Admiral was suited to lead this inquiry. Not to mention, Janeway herself had once served as a science officer under his command.
However, for the most part, despite the seriousness of the situation, this was mostly a formality, as the facts were already well-known and it would not be Admiral Paris alone who rendered any sort of judgement.
Besides, things were rather chaotic here at Starfleet Command. The year 2371 had not been quiet one for the Federation or the Alpha Quadrant, and the year was not yet over.
The USS Voyager and the USS Equinox were not the only Federation vessels to have gone missing and it was possible that other Starfleet vessels had been snatched up the Caretaker never to be seen again.
Earlier in the year, the Romulans had attempted to destroy Deep Space Nine while supposedly visiting the station to learn more about the Dominion—a looming threat from the Gamma Quadrant, that could have easily led to hostilities with the Star Empire.
At least that hostile empire was still trapped on the other side of the Wormhole that was now closed. They remained too far from the Alpha Quadrant to pose an immediate threat; it might be centuries before the Dominion made contact with races of the Alpha Quadrant once more.
She heard that Maquis member Thomas Riker, a transporter clone of Commander William Riker, had stolen the USS Defiant and used it to expose a Cardassian military buildup in the Orias system.
Later, that same fleet was deployed in a failed attempt to wipe out the Founders in the Gamma Quadrant. A series of events which led to the Cardassians using some sort of starship-sized missile to collapse the entrance to the Wormhole.
Kai Winn and Legate Turrel had signed the Bajoran-Cardassian Treaty, but the recent attack on the Wormhole was a clear violation of that treaty and could be considered an attack on the Federation as well since Bajor was under Federation protection.
If the Bajorans had the military capability, it was almost certain they would be launching retaliatory strikes against the Cardassians. Politically, it was a nightmare, no wonder this hearing had been rushed.
To top it all off, the USS Enterprise-D had been destroyed in the Veridian system. So yes, Starfleet had plenty on its plate and plenty of important work for its admirals to be getting on with.
"We'll start with your actions upon your arrival in the Delta Quadrant," said Admiral Owen Paris. "According to the logs, many crew members were killed or severely injured during your transition to the Delta Quadrant. Deaths, including Voyager's Captain, Chief Medical Officer, and Chief Engineer. At that point, you assumed command as Acting-Captain".
None of that had been phrased as a question, so Janeway simply confirmed the statement.
"You quickly found yourself in conflict with a local faction known as a Kazon Sect," another admiral added. "They attempted to seize the USS Voyager for its technology under the pretext of you having intruded in their space, and they sought to take control of the Caretaker's Array. A space station containing even more advanced technology than Voyager itself".
That was basically what happened. Due to the damage taken when the Caretaker took them across the galaxy, the USS Voyager hadn't been in the strongest of positions. If not for the aid of the Imperials they might have all died, or worse, they might have been captured and forced to share Starfleet technology.
"The Kazon sought to exploit the Caretaker's Array," she acknowledged. "It was the only way home, but it also had the potential to become a devastating weapon in the wrong hands. During the battle, I decided to destroy it rather than allow it to be misused. There was little time to come up with an alternate course of action".
Janeway knew that the decision to destroy the Caretakers Array had already been scrutinized. But now, they wanted to hear it from her directly, to analyze her judgment to see if she was negligent or simply hadn't seen another course of action at the time.
"You stranded your crew seventy thousand light-years from home," Admiral Nechayev said, leaning forward as she spoke. "That was a rather extreme action".
No one could deny that.
"It was," Janeway admitted. "But given the circumstances, it was the only option as far as I could see. If we had left the Caretaker Array intact, the Kazon would have taken control of it, and that Array could bring ships across the galaxy; we can only imagine what else it could have done".
The Kazon could have done a lot of harm without even trying. Such as bringing a Borg cube to the system. The Borg would have assimilated the Array and become an even greater threat.
"An understandable concern," Admiral Owen Paris said. "The Kazon are not a pre-warp civilization, but their society is fractured, violent, and in no way prepared to handle the kind of power the Caretaker's Array could provide. If they had been allowed to take it, they could have even threatened the Federation".
If Voyager could be brought to the Array, then perhaps Kazon ships could have been sent into the Alpha Quadrant, or perhaps they Kazon would have dragged more Starfleet ships across the galaxy to pillage them for their technology.
"The official review board acknowledges that your decision was made in the heat of battle with the intent of safeguarding the Federation and other races," said Admiral Owen Paris. "However, we do have concerns about certain command decisions made in the following weeks".
Janeway resisted the urge to sigh. She knew her choice to ally with the Imperials would cause problems when they got home. It had been one of the factors she needed to consider before finally deciding to hitch a ride home with the Rogue Trader.
"It was not an easy decision to make," admitted Janeway. "There was no guarantee that any of us would have made it back to the Alpha Quadrant, and I had to consider the threat of the Kazon sects who still wanted to acquire Voyager's technology".
She had more to say on this matter.
"I didn't simply abandon Voyager. I made sense to test the Lord-Captain's claims before accepting his offer," she told the admirals sitting across the table from her. "I was reminded that while a starship is a valuable piece of equipment, it is the crew of the ship that matters the most".
Tuvok stood up and addressed the admirals.
"It was I who made the argument to Acting-Captain Janeway that returning the crew to the Alpha Quadrant was more important than Voyager itself, as every officer has skills and experience that make them invaluable to the Federation," stated the Vulcan. "My logic was well-founded".
None of the admirals could argue with that, and Tuvok wasn't done yet.
"Like Captain Ransom, we were careful to arrange the transport of everything that could be brought with us to reduce the cost in materials to Starfleet, and by destroying anything we could not transport, we ensured that Starfleet technology did not fall into the hands of aggressive races in the Delta Quadrant," added Tuvok.
Again, there was no argument made about that.
"Our main concern is you bringing this Lord-Captain Thrax and these Imperials to the Federation," said Admiral Nechayev. "We have a powerful alien starship—one that your logs confirm is heavily armed—in an area of space that is not at all politically stable".
Janeway was not going to take the blame for that.
"The Imperials were more than capable of making the journey across the galaxy on their own," the younger woman pointed out. "They would have done so anyway since they had already agreed to transport the Maquis back to the Alpha Quadrant".
Admiral Nechayev was not done yet.
"Yes, the Maquis you were sent to apprehend," remarked the older woman. "You did not attempt to take them into custody, I notice".
There hadn't been much of a chance.
"Voyager was in a sorry state when we realized where we were, and the Maquis fought with us against the Kazon," argued Janeway. "Then later, Lord-Captain Thrax took them under his protection. Given that I'd seen his vessel destroy a Kazon ship that greatly outgunned Voyager with a single weapon that was fired once, I was not going to risk making an enemy of the Imperials".
Janeway had more to say.
"Aside from that, we were far outside of Federation space with no way of taking anyone into custody to face justice," she pointed out. "After the Array was destroyed, the only chance any of us had to return home was to cooperate with the Lord-Captain".
"And if he had been willing to hand over the Maquis to us, then who was to say he wouldn't do the same to my crew if the Kazon demanded we be turned over to them?" Janeway reasoned, "I had to respect the Lord-Captain's decision".
Admiral Paris exchanged glances with the others before folding his hands on the table.
"Captain, we do not dispute the severity of the situation you faced. However, the Federation cannot afford to be complacent when dealing with unknown powers—especially those capable of crossing interstellar distances with apparent ease," he said "The Imperials may have assisted you, but that does not mean they are allies".
Janeway met his gaze without flinching.
"With respect, Admiral, I did not believe I had the luxury of choosing our allies," she replied "The Delta Quadrant is hostile territory. The Kazon, the Vidiians, and other threats forced us to adapt. If the Imperials hadn't intervened, Voyager and her crew might have been lost. I wasn't willing to gamble with their lives once it was clear that Lord-Captain Thrax could bring us all home".
Admiral Nechayev's expression remained stern as she spoke.
"Commander Janeway, you aligned yourself with a foreign power whose motives remain unclear," she stated "We do not know their end goal, nor whether they intend to respect our sovereignty. What assurances do we have that their presence in the Alpha Quadrant will not lead to conflict?"
They had none at all, and Janeway knew that.
"His primary objective in coming to the Alpha Quadrant was returning our people—and the Maquis—to their home territories", said Janeway "A journey he would have made without us, as I already mentioned, at least by travelling with him we were able to gather some information about these Imperials".
An Andorian with piercing eyes spoke to Janeway.
"Just because they have refrained from hostility so far does not mean they will continue to do so. Their military capability alone presents a security risk," he said.
Tuvok inclined his head slightly.
"With all due respect, Admiral, caution is warranted, but assumptions are dangerous. Lord-Captain Thrax has demonstrated a strict adherence to his own code of conduct," the Vulcan informed the admirals "The Imperials did not need to take us with them when coming to the Alpha Quadrant".
"He could have attempted to seize Voyager and its technology for himself, yet did not do so. Logically, this suggests he does not consider us enemies. If anything, his actions point to the Rogue Trader wanting to do business with the Federation" Tuvok went on to say ", The Imperials are far from home and do need friendly space for their ship to retreat to for repairs and resupply".
Janeway had something she wished to say. She wasn't going to take the blame for bringing the Imperials here.
"The Imperials would be here even if Voyager had remained in the Delta Quadrant, so I stand by my decisions. My first duty was to my crew—to bring them home safely. If that meant working with an unknown power to achieve that goal, then I have no regrets".
The admirals exchanged a few words before deciding on what to do next.
"Commander Janeway, we see no reason to take any disciplinary action," informed Admiral Paris
Janeway felt a lot of tension suddenly leave her body.
"For now, you and your crew will be placed on administrative leave while Starfleet Command reviews the full extent of your logs and debriefs key personnel to find out about these Impeirals", said Admiral Paris "You will likely be debreifed by Starfleet Security and Starfleet Intelligence".
That was to be expected, and now that she was free to leave Starfleet Command, it was about time she caught up with Mark Johnson and made sure he had taken good care of her dogs and the puppies. She imagined that her crew and Ransom's would also be glad to meet with their loved ones.
Part 31
Adeptus Mechanicus Shrines - The Endless Endeavour
The great workshops of the Tech-Priests were an odd mix of practicality and religion. Their work was practical in the sense that they maintained and repaired all of the technology used on this starship, as well as the systems of the mighty vessel I commanded.
However, it was all cluttered with what I could only describe as a rather strange form of spirituality. I had a hard time imagining any other engineers in this galaxy working under the glow of stained glass windows, their light shining down upon cyborgs wielding ornate power tools that holy scripture carved onto the.
While basic maintenance for much of the equipment could be carried out by anyone who knew the proper prayers—for example, a Guardsman maintaining their weapon—anything beyond the basics required a follower of the Machine God to perform specific rituals.
Not everyone who did this work was a robe-wearing cyborg. There were ranks within the Mechanicus, and simple laborers didn't require augmetics; those were acquired as one ascended through the hierarchy.
A leaky pipe, for instance, could be handled by a Servitor or a member of the Tech-Acolytae, who were essentially interns as far as I understood. But this shrine was where the higher mysteries of the Machine God were explored.
As such, there were normal-looking people here, alongside cybernetic figures who hardly seemed human at all. Some were physically part of the shrine and unable to leave their workstations.
Here, in the shrines, the Tech-Priests were overseen by the Magi, high-ranking members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. This was not a place where they merely created spare parts or repaired damage. In this shrine, they engaged in what could be considered research and development—at least in some vague sense.
To put it simply, this workshop-church was where the subspace radio I had used to contact Sisko had been created. This was where the technology claimed by the Tech-Priests was purified, made suitable to serve the will of the Omnissiah, and prepared for use by the faithful of the Machine God.
Even assembling a simple subspace communication device had taken months of work, as every step of the process involved extensive religious practices. Every aspect of the technology had to be blessed and tested to ensure nothing was corrupted.
Given that demons were a real thing and they could possess technology, the religious practices were not pointless, even if they were perhaps needlessly complex.
The shrines were a place of ceaseless activity, filled with the scent of sacred oils and the distant hum of machinery that never truly rested. Incense burners released thick, cloying smoke that curled through the air, sanctifying the workspace as machine parts were anointed with sacred oils I could also smell.
My ears picked up the omnipresent chanting of the Mechanicus liturgies reverberating through the steel halls. Their binary hymns were both prayers to their god and commands to the spirits of the machines they communed with during their work.
Rows of cogitators lined the walls, their lumen displays flickering with calculations of some kind. This work was guided by robed adepts who muttered blessings as they adjusted dials and inscribed holy symbols onto prayer-slips, attaching them to the machines.
Servo-skulls drifted overhead, their red optics scanning tirelessly, transmitting information back to the senior Tech-Priests who watched over this domain.
To an outsider, the fervor with which the Mechanicus treated their work might seem excessive, bordering on madness. Every wire connected, every circuit examined, every component assembled was obsessed over.
It was not enough for a device to simply function; it had to be sanctified, to be deemed pure in the eyes of the Omnissiah. Any deviation from their sacred protocols was an affront to their beliefs.
Even I, as a Rogue Trader, had to tread carefully within these halls. The Mechanicus were my allies, bound by mutual benefit and necessity, but their loyalty was to the Machine God above all else, not to me and my dynasty.
The Magos overseeing this particular shrine, Magos Dominus Varikus, had an augmented form, a blend of sleek crimson robes and gleaming metal that hid any organic parts he might still have.
His voice, filtered through a vox-synthesizer, carried a mechanical resonance that stripped away any hint of organic emotion. Yet I sensed a certain excitement regarding the reason for my presence here.
"You have come to witness the final sanctification," he intoned, his cybernetic eyes flickering as he scanned me. "The final rites will be performed before the machine-spirit may be awoken and set to its holy purpose".
I inclined my head in acknowledgment, careful to show the appropriate level of respect.
"Yes, Magos", I confirmed.
The followers of the Machine God had invited me to their most holy workshop-shrine—a place I wouldn't even be allowed to enter if I were anyone less than a Rogue Trader—so they could show off their latest work, to offer proof that made use of the bounty I had shared with them.
I hadn't even been allowed to bring one of my consorts with me to this most holy of places. That made sense, considering two of them were abhumans as far as every Imperial was concerned, and even Annika was an infidel in their eyes.
Magos Dominus Varikus was attached to a device that served as both a throne and a means of locomotion. If he had once been male, I had only his deep, artificial voice to go by, and I might be assuming gender.
But what mattered was that I had needed to come to him because he could not leave this place, and something just needed to be seen in person.
I was guided to a chamber connected to the shrine yet separate from its main sanctum. Inside, several priests were making the finishing touches on a device I did not recognize.
"We recovered a damaged example of this technology from the ISS Enterprise," explained Magos Dominus Varikus. "It is called an Agony Booth—a device by which a crew member may be effectively punished for failing to perform their duties".
It took a great deal of self-control not to react poorly to this news. The Tech-Priests had spent countless man-hours and resources to produce this—a machine designed for torture.
I would never use such a device on the very people I was supposed to be leading. If someone required that level of correction, they had likely done something worthy of execution—or I could simply throw them off the ship.
"There are far easier ways of disciplining the lower orders," I stated
I made sure to keep my tone carefully neutral so as not to sound disapproving.
"It was not our intention to tell you how to correct the men and women who serve your dynasty," said the Magos. "Perhaps it can be used to extract information from an enemy"
I doubted I would ever use it for that either. If nothing else, it seemed rather redundant, considering I had psykers in my employ who could literally read minds. Then again, if I ever captured, say, Gul Dukat, perhaps it would have its uses.
"This is not the miracle of the Machine God I wished to share with you," the Magos continued. "This was merely meant to prove that the resources and technology you have acquired for us have been put to use in ways you may not have expected".
I certainly hadn't expected them to build an Imperial version of an Agony Booth.
"What other wonders do you have for me to see?" I asked.
I was soon led to another adjoining space.
"The transporters are prepared," answered the Magos. "We will now be able to 'beam,' as the humans of Federation call it".
Now this was good news.
"You mean we now have access to instantaneous matter transmission?" I asked, my tone measured.
Magos Dominus Varikus gave a slow, deliberate nod, the servos in his neck whirring softly.
"Correct, Lord-Captain. After extensive purification rites that ensured we had purged any blasphemous influence from the recovered technology, we have achieved stable, repeatable teleportation within the confines of this vessel and beyond," he confirmed.
I inhaled slowly. If true, this was a monumental breakthrough. I had expected the Tech-Priests to take years, if not decades, to properly implement transporter technology.
After all, even in the Imperium, teleportation technology, which worked differently than what was used in Star Trek, was a rare bit of tech. It is primarily limited to the Astartes who can best withstand getting transported through the Warp.
"Please show me," I requested.
Magos Varikus inclined his head and gestured for me to follow. As we moved deeper into the shrine, the air grew even heavier with incense, and the rhythmic chants of the adepts took on an even more reverent tone. With my growing psyker powers, I could sense the dulled emotions of the Tech-Priests around me, they were excited about their work.
We stepped into a chamber illuminated by lumen-strips that showed me that in the center stood a single circular platform, inscribed with intricate sigils and cogwheel motifs. Cables snaked from its base, connecting it to banks of cogitators where Tech-Priests and servitors attended to their work.
"This is the Sanctum of Translocation," Varikus intoned. "Here, the power of the Omnissiah can be called upon to permit the translation of matter over vast distances".
One of the adepts stepped forward before speaking.
"Final calibrations are complete, Magos Dominus. The machine-spirit is appeased, and the trial awaits," the priest said.
No doubt this technology had been tested very carefully.
"And what does this trial entail?" I asked.
"A demonstration," Magos Varikus replied.
He turned his attention to a pair of adepts standing at attention near the edge of the platform.
"Commence the translocation," he ordered.
The adepts worked swiftly, inputting sequences into the cogitators while the air filled with the rising hum of energized machinery. A deep, resonant thrumming reverberated through the chamber. Then the servitor that had been moved onto the pad for the demonstration was beamed away.
A second later, a vox-speaker crackled to life.
"Target coordinates reached," came the dispassionate voice of another adept. "Subject arrived intact within the target area, no anomalies detected".
Some of the psykers in my employ had tested people who had used the Maquis transporters, and they had promised me that the person who rematerializes somewhere is the same person who stepped onto the transporter pad.
Destroying and rebuilding your body doesn't harm your soul, and that is the only part of that really matters. Everything else is just crude matter, as Master Yoda would put it.
Although that did make me wonder how Thomas Riker, the transporter clone of Will Riker could even exist if the soul is not altered by beaming about. Perhaps it had something do with how twins can seem to be the same soul in two bodies but are in reality seperated enities. Something to ponder at another time.
"Impressive," I commented.
If we could get a few of these Sanctum of Translocations up and running, it would save a lot of time when it came to visiting places. And a larger scale could be used to move cargo.
"We are enjoying a 97.3% success rate," Magos Varikus informed me "The margin of failure will be lowered even further as testing is completed".
Did that mean if a hundred people used the transporter, then 2.7 of them would die? This was something I asked about.
"Minor deviations. Loss of non-essential biological mass," he shared, "A few test subjects did arrive inside-out at first"
I stared at him.
"Inside-out?" I asked.
That sounded messy. While your soul remained intact when you beamed somewhere, the process could still kill you.
"A regrettable, but statistically negligible occurrence," he assured me. "The probability of catastrophic failure decreases with each test of the technology. Soon, we shall achieve true purity in translocation".
I wasn't sure how comforted I was by that statement. Still, the potential applications of this technology were staggering. If I could reliably teleport my people down to planets, it would mean I wouldn't have to rely on my few support craft.
"How far can these transporters reach?" I asked.
Magos Varikus gestured toward a data console and let me see the data. Not that I understood most of it.
"Initial tests confirm successful translocation across the vessel. Translocation to planets from orbit or to nearby ships and structures is well within theoretical limits, but practical application will require further refinements. We are confident we can overcome the limitations with time".
I nodded slowly, my mind racing with possibilities. This was more than I had dared hope for so soon.
"Magos, you and your people have done well," I said, offering him genuine praise. "This technology will serve us well"
The Tech-Priests seemed pleased—at least, as pleased as cybernetic zealots with metal faces could appear to be anything.
"There is... one more matter," he said.
It was strange how someone who looked inhuman could sound so human at times.
"We require more," he stated. "More technology. More wonders. The Omnissiah's will demands that we reclaim lost knowledge, purging its impurities and making it fit for His divine purpose. This will also require us to set suitable shrines and we will need a supply of raw materials".
There was a feudal world out there that I wanted to claim. We could set up ground faliciaties there once were done with the work needed to be done while we were docked at Deep Space Nine.
"That can be arranged", I promised.
If the feudal world had a large human population, then the Magos should have little trouble finding more recruits and labourers. I planned to do the same to build up my forces as well.
Given how unstable this part of the galaxy was right now in terms of politics, I suspected I had some time to start bringing the feudal world under my control before my attention was needed elsewhere.
Part 32
Meeting Room – Deep Space Nine
It was a surprise—but a pleasant one—to be invited to meet with Captain Sisko and his Chief of Operations, Miles O'Brien, who might be one of the greatest Starfleet officers of all time, simply based on everything he has been through.
Even all these years later, I can recall the man being put through all kinds of hell, yet he managed not only to survive it all but also to remain a dedicated family man and an effective Starfleet Officer. Which was to be admired.
It was Miles O'Brien who had asked for this meeting, from what little Captain Sisko had told me beforehand. When I entered the meeting room with T'Pol—my Space Marine escort waiting outside—I found Miles O'Brien, Captain Sisko, and Quark, of all people, waiting for me.
"Lord Captain Thrax," greeted Captain Sisko as he made introductions. "This is Miles O'Brien, my Chief of Operations. And you've met Quark—he was the one who gave us an idea we think you'll be interested in".
I gestured to my companion.
"This is T'Pol. She is an advisor… among other things," I said.
It was a credit to the men in the room that my concubine's lack of proper clothing didn't distract them much.
"Please, take a seat," Sisko invited.
Quark had brought along one of his Dabo girls to serve refreshments. I didn't know if he was attempting to mimic me by having a half-naked woman nearby, or if he simply wanted to butter everyone up because he had plans to make a profit from this meeting.
"As you may have noticed, the station is undergoing some upgrades," Captain Sisko began.
That was something I had indeed noticed. I suspected it had something to do with the rising tensions in this part of the galaxy. It made sense to better defend the station at the mouth of the wormhole, and I imagined it would help reassure the Bajoran people if Deep Space Nine was fortified.
Plus, if the Dominion did ever invade, which was a possibility should the Prophets restore the wormhole, it would be good if the station could put up a fight.
"But we've run into a few problems," shared Chief O'Brien. "Cardassian and Federation technology aren't very compatible, and while the station isn't exactly busy these days, we can't take large parts of it offline so that the Cardassian systems can all be replaced".
I was no expert in such things, but I could imagine that trying to upgrade the shields and weapons would be hard work when you have to work with tech you aren't familiar with. There were reasons why we couldn't just slap some phasers onto my frigate that went beyond the rules the Tech-Priests had to govern them by.
"What we need are some spare parts to replace Cardassian systems that are wearing down and simply can't be replaced or replicated due to the designs the Cardassians use," the Chief explained.
I dimly recalled that the station does get a big boost in firepower around this time—ironically, it ends up being used against the Klingons rather than the Dominion. Although the Dominion also does get a pasting later in the series.
"The Chief came to me looking to acquire parts, shall we say, under the table," Quark chimed in.
From what I'd heard recently, the Cardassian Union was very unstable. Soon, the civilian government—the Detapa Council—would take charge, and the military would no longer be running the show. That was bound to cause issues with trade even on the black market.
"But even those channels are closed to me, at least currently," Quark admitted.
O'Brien brought up a hologram of what I first thought was Deep Space Nine—but that wasn't the case, the design was wrong as was the colouring. Deep Space Nine had originally been built for ore processing, among other things, so I imagined that this Cardassian station had a different main purpose.
Spoiler
"This is Empok Nor," the Chief of Operations explained. "It's a Cardassian space station, abandoned when the treaty shifted the borders between the Union and the Federation. It lies in the Trivas system, which is effectively neutral space. It's almost identical to Deep Space Nine in many respects, at least when it comes to the parts that interest us".
I think I knew where this was going. I recalled an episode where Starfleet officers went to this station to salvage parts. They woke up some Cardassians who were in stasis, and Garak was exposed to something that made him go on a short-lived killing spree.
"You want to salvage what you need from this Empok Nor," I stated. "What does that have to do with me?".
I could easily guess, but I wanted to hear it from them.
"While that system is now neutral space," Sisko said, "Our relationship with the Cardassians is rather strained, to put it mildly—not to mention that the Maquis have been active in that area. I'm not comfortable sending a Runabout, and the Defiant needs to be kept close to Bajor"
I saw where this was going.
"You want to use my ship to transport a team to this Empok Nor so they can grab what they need—and then hitch a ride home," I reasoned.
Quark leaned forward.
"That was my idea," he said proudly. "Word is, your people did a lot of salvaging while in the Delta Quadrant, so you should be able to turn a profit from stripping Empok Nor of anything valuable".
He wasn't wrong—and we did need materials for when we reached the feudal world, since we'd be setting up everything my dynasty would need on that planet. Taking what we needed from the station could save months of work.
"You can take anything you want, minus the parts we need and whatever is required to keep life support going for the duration of the mission," said Captain Sisko. "Starfleet will supply you with the coordinates of the station and any information we have on Empok Nor"..
That sounded like a fair deal to me. The tricky part would be making sure the Starfleet crew and my people didn't get in each other's way.
"In exchange, we want to send our team in a Runabout with out," the captain was now saying, "Like with the Maquis vessel you brought back from the Delta Quadrant, the Runabout will dock with your ship, then travel with you to Empok Nor".
The 3D image on the nearby display shifted to show a diagram of the operation.
"Then, when you arrive, the Runabout departs from the docking bay. The team carries out their mission, then docks back with The Endless Endeavour when it's time to leave," added Sisko. "Quark will be tagging along, as he has experience with Cardassian security systems—and Starfleet will cover his expenses".
I leaned back slightly in my chair as I considered the proposal. It was actually a solid plan, rather practical as well and as for the dangers. A couple of Cardassians in stasis could be handled by the Ultramarines, who would want to go in and secure the station before any mortals went on board.
Also, I had to admit, at least to myself, the idea of picking Empok Nor clean was tempting, as we did need the materials and a joint operation with Starfleet could help to soothe any growing tensions between my dynasty and the Federation.
"Sounds reasonable," I said slowly, "Though I'll want my own people to go over the specs of Empok Nor before we commit. We will need to be wary of any automated defenses or—Emperor forbid—biological hazards, I doubt the Cardassians made sure the station was safe before they left".
Sisko nodded and handed a datapadd to T'Pol, making it clear that they had already started gathering information.
"The intelligence we have suggests the station has been dormant since it was abandoned, but we'll give you full access to the Starfleet database on the place just to be on the safe side," agreed Sisko.
Quark, of course, saw a different kind of opportunity than I did.
"And while we are there," he added smoothly, "if you come across any surplus cargo—Cardassian art, rare components, vintage kanar, you know… non-essential salvage—I'd be happy to purchase it for resale or take anything you don't need. There's always a market for things if you know where to look".
That was fine with me. Stafleet desired spare parts, I wanted raw materials for later projects, and if we wanted Cardassin junk, that was fine with me.
T'Pol, ever the Vulcan, drew my attention to practical concerns.
"I will begin compiling a list of possible salvage targets," she said. "We may also want to test for dampening fields or transporter inhibitors".
Booby trapping their old stuff was a Cardassian habit.
"We'll also want to bring along a small security detail," O'Brien added, "But we will be depending on your ship and crew should their be trouble".
I gave that a moment of thought. There were only so many people they could bring in a Runabout, fewer if they needed room for cargo. I figured my people could handle working alongside a small Starfleet team as long as I had a Space Marine or two around to keep them all out of trouble.
"Your people will be under my protection," I promised, "Just as the Starfleet officers I brought back from the Delta Quadrant".
The meeting came to an end as the natives left my special data-slated beeped to get my attention. It had been some time since I had gotten anything, and I wondered what was on offer.
700 CP
Bank or Roll
I selected the roll option since I had plenty of points, and I wasn't worried about monitoring equipment picking up on what I was going because it had become clear to me that Codex Celestial did something to stop people from noticing it. So as I didn't draw attention to it, I figured it wouldn't matter where and when I used the Codex Celestial.
The Emperor's Tarot
200 CP
Warhammer 40k Imperial Navy jump 1.02
Care to have your fortune read? These highly illustrated cards are actually wafers of psycho-reactive crystals that aid in divination. Here they are used to get in touch with the wisdom and perception of the Emperor of Mankind. They are a potent focus for any non-evil divinatory abilities, supplanting the need for any other specific focus, although your efforts can still be aided with other additions.
Even if you do not have any divinatory abilities, you can still use them for surprisingly accurate tarot readings. They can also shift their faces to be the appropriate displays for any card games you know.
Accept or Deny?
Since I had developed divinatory abilities thanks to my growing psyker powers, I could already look a little into the future, and I'd had some odd dreams that I suspected would make sense later, it seemed worthwhile to purchase the tarot cards.
With that in mind, I pressed the accept option, and on the table before me, a set of Tarot Cards made from some crystal appeared that were wrapped in a silk cloth.
700 CP
- 200 CP
= 500 CP
T'Pol was already going over the data provided on a padd by Starfleet, so she didn't notice what I had been doing, and she already had some ideas about how to secure the station.
"Put together a briefing package for the senior officers", I ordered.
That was the sort of thing T'Pol excelled at doing. It had been part of her duties as an officer in the Terran Empire's Starfleet, and I was sure that my asking to do such things made her feel valued.
"I will have a briefing package ready in a few hours, Lord Captain," she promised.
With that, we headed back to my ship to begin preparations for this new mission. But before then, I did have a training session booked to help me learn to fight while using a sword. Something that seemed more important than ever if we were all going to spend time on a feudal world.