Burn the Stars

Posted on Wed Jan 29th, 2025 @ 2:53pm by Lieutenant Commander Caradan Eunidas & Commander Mindo

Mission: Outside the Box
Location: Mindo's Office
Timeline: Current

ON

{Mindo's Office}

Caradan strolled about the Academy campus. She was covered up, of course, head to toe, to include her al-amira leaving but her face showing. Her pasty and featureless face gave her away as a Changeling. It was not a secret that Starfleet attempted to secure, just not something they wished to advertise. Caradan passed by many students; turned several heads. She got even fewer remarks but the rank on her collar giving her away as a Lieutenant Commander kept what remarks at a minimum. The vast majority of remarks were simple scoffs. She was used to that.

Caradan stepped upon the grounds of the School of Engineering. It was, in fact, the grounds of the old School of Engineering. As the Federation explored and learned and developed newer and more advanced forms of travel and engineering, this old building was just that...old. It was vacated after the new building was built and the grounds were to be repurposed, complete with this building removed and something new built in its place.

In the interim though, the 'old' School of Engineering was being used for storage, some meetings and lectures, as well as office space for overflow instructors and those that needed the space. Mindo fell into that category; one who simply needed the space. He was neither an instructor nor a lecturer. And, since he was about to embark on an off-the-books mission, Starfleet wanted to keep him as out of the public eye as possible. Though there was recruitment going and being advertised, word of mouth only, of this off-the-books mission.

Caradan entered the building and ventured beyond all the offices filled with old machinery, desks, spent warp coils and power cells. She took a lift up to the third floor. The lift shook a bit and vibrated as it ascended. It did not even stop flush with the intended floor and Caradan had to step up a few inches to exit the lift. Some of the lights were flickering and the building was obviously succumbing to a lack of attention. Since it was going to be torn down by the year's end, she expected no more than the care it was given. She came upon Mindo's office and depressed the button alerting anyone inside that someone was outside awaiting audience. She heard the chime inside go off with a distorted sound.

The door opened suddenly and Mindo stood just inside the room. He held a data PADD under his left arm and was switching off the light. It looked like he was headed out. His uniform jacket was unzipped to the chest, revealing a little more of the red turtleneck underneath. The color did indeed suit Mindo's looks, but he hardly recognized himself looking in the mirror and not seeing himself garbed in the usual gold. His hair was tousled and there were bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn't slept in a while.

"Cara... er, Commander," he said, a little surprised. "What can I do for you?"

"Mindo, please. Cara will do. I know..." that she was dealing with some things, many things that haunted her still and she was still working through some phobias, troubled dreams, and random anxieties and, "...I know I am working through some things still, but I don't see the need to be official when alone."

"Agreed," Mindo said with a nod and a smile."

"I...uh...can I come in?" Caradan asked. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," Mindo said, moving aside.

Caradan took a seat. It was an old admiral's desk chair that had been tossed into storage. She sat forward, slouched a bit. "I was thinking about the letter the captain left his wife. In it, he said he would 'burn the stars' to get back his family. If he is out there, on a mission of his own, and we are left to find the Pandora, then I can only surmise that it is possible he may have some idea of how to find it. 'Burn the stars' could be a queue for us to seek out a tri-lithium weapon. It is something the Romulans were working on before Hobus destroyed their empire. Recall such a weapon was used to destroy the Amargosa star. Later, an El-Aurian madman tried to use in on the Viridian System. Captain Sisko encountered such a weapon launched at the Bajoran star. The point is, these weapons exist and, when the Romulan Empire fell apart, weapons traffickers did everything they could to get rid of them; selling them, sometimes, to the lowest bidder; giving them away to clean their own hands." Caradan let that sink in a short second. "There is a Ferengi broker whom I am aware of named Poark. I believe he may be in possession of such a weapon. In theory, if a tri-lithium filled torpedo has a yield that is directly proportional to the solar mass of a star, and is then used on said star, then not only is that star destroyed but subspace disturbances are sent out in all directions for half a parsec. Any ship within that radius will only be able to manage full impulse and not go to warp. In short, such a weapon whose yield is proportional to the star will destroy the system and forbid anyone from escaping the ensuing shockwave. If Poark has such a weapon or know where one is, and we match its yield to all known stars, that may narrow down our search for the Pandora by a wide margin."

Mindo knew the answer to all of this, but he hesitated saying so. It wasn't so much what he knew, but how. The effects of his meld with Ensign Sh'vastarth was still ingrained in his mind, and Mindo wondered if it would ever go away. Not the knowledge, but the feeling. Why did he still get cold when he thought about it? He hadn't told anyone in his crew about the meld. His confession to Stazy a day prior had not quite yielded any resolution to the issue. He also didn't know how Sh'vastarth felt about it either. It had not been a one-way experience. Had she found something in him of which she was also unaware? Mindo didn't want to entertain the idea. It didn't matter how he knew. It only mattered that he knew.

"I know who Poark is," Mindo said, about as honest as he could be. "He couldn't get his hands on a water pistol if his life depended on it. He can't even cheat at cards."

"He could have gotten a hold of this weapon if someone was desperate enough to be rid of it. Or he might know who may have one; trying to rid themselves of one." Cara sat back in her seat. "I just think it might potentially be an avenue to pursue. If you have other leads to the whereabouts of the Pandora..." she let that thought fizzle out with her words. She could see Mindo was not entirely in the mood for work at the moment. Work was all she knew these days as she either kept herself away from others or fully engrossed in her work. Being social, trusting, friendly, managed to find a way to become foreign to her. Still, "How have you been keeping?" she asked, "If you don't mind me asking."

Mindo rubbed his face and messy hair. "I'm fine," he answered. "Just a little overworked, and tired from last night. I was up into the early morning with some friends in New York. Only got a couple hours of sleep."

'Well that does not sound like the Mindo I knew," Caradan thought. She also thought to vocalize that point but instantly decided against it. She also called to mind, however, something her counselor tried her to get into the habit of doing. It was something called 'What Would the Old Me Do' and that 'do' was easily interchangeable with 'say.' It was something of a role play her and Dr. Lauda had done many times, but it was always behind closed doors, always them two, only them two, and never anyone else, anywhere else. Caradan could also see the low morale of Mindo. It was not entirely just to cheer him up, as she also wanted to see how this exercise worked in action, so Caradan decided to be out with it.

"That does not sound like the Mindo I knew back on the Tornado," she said. "You used to be able to be able to go all night. If your steam started to run out, another drink would fix that real quick."

"Where do you think I was going?" Mindo said. "This office was a storage closet before they put a desk in it. It's the best accommodation they could give to a Commander of a ship that doesn't exist. So no nice couch to lay on, and no room for a dry bar. I was headed to Caesar's Palace for a burger, some tequila, loaded tots, and a round or two of Ms. Pac-Man. You're welcome to join me. Or is that still not the old Mindo?"

Caradan wanted to say 'No.' Every drop of her being wanted to do the exact opposite. She recalled her attempt, recently, at going to a bar, to be in a social environment. That attempt failed. She was there for only about 2 minutes before anxiety stepped in and she stepped out. Caradan flexed her fingers inside her gloves, ensuring they maintained form. "I...am not good in crowds," she said. "I have not...actually..." and she took a deep breath with lungs she did not even know she had mimicked, "...socialized in a long time. But I also have not tried to do so...with a...friend." She still wanted to decline. "I'll go," she blurted. "Though I, do not know how good of company I will be." She also could not guarantee how long she could will herself to stay.

"Don't be one to talk," Mindo said, a bit playfully. "If I need to be the old Mindo, you need to be the old Cara. The one who's not afraid to lean back and live a little. The one who's outgoing and tries new things like... like Ms. Pac-Man! Look, the owner there is a very old friend of mine, Big Sal. If I can't put a smile on your face, he can. Plus, it's eleven-hundred on a work day, so it won't be crowded at all. Loud, perhaps, but not crowded. And you'll be with me, so you know I won't let anything bad happen." He held out his hands and smiled.

Caradan could make no promises on how much she would smile or even if. She could certain mimic one, she knew how to do that with ease. But actually having a good time was not something she could promise. Still, she nodded, "Ok. I'll go. Let me get out of this uniform and into something else and I'll meet you...where? There or at the transporter terminal?"

Mindo typed something into his PADD. "It's not very far," he said. He handed her the PADD. It read, Meet me at my apartment. Twenty minutes. Don't be followed.

Mindo looked Caradan in the eye. "Meet me in the courtyard in thirty minutes and we can walk there."

She could see there was some subterfuge about; possible eyes and ears eavesdropping on them. This washed away any anxiety she had about socializing and jerked her into work mode. "I will be there," she said.

{Mindo's Apartment}

The streets of San Francisco did not sleep. They were very much alive and, despite all the security, surveillance, sensor readings, etc., those who dealt in illegal activities had their ways to conduct their business. One Nausicaan strolled through the streets alone. Hanging from one shoulder was a sack. And that sack seemed to be light, as though filled with clothes, or something lightweight, though it could easily hold something the size of the bodily remains of someone smallish, like a Feserian maybe, or anyone if their remains were cut up and packed into a small enough space. The Nausicaan took a serpentine path down several streets and alleys, sometimes taking a glance over the shoulder to see if any familiar faces remained behind after so many twists and turns.

There were none.

Finally, the Nausicaan entered a building, which happened to be the same containing the apartment of one named Mindo. He ventured to the room which he had been told to raid and to kill anyone and everyone within. Using a Starfleet issued, security override device, he overrode the security lockouts of the apartment door and it swished open. The Nausicaan retrieved the device and quickly entered the room with the door closing directly behind. Mindo was standing in the middle of the room with a bit of surprise on his face. But, since his apartment's location was still unlisted, he was not all that surprised as the same time. The Nausicaan before him melted away, the sack hanging on the shoulder fell through a column of liquid and landed on the floor. The liquid form before him, reformed itself into a familiar shape and face; Caradan, while mimicking all black clothing. Missing were her gloves and al-amira.

Before he said anything, Mindo held out his hand and offered some clothing made from a strange fabric.

"Put these on," he said.

Mindo had changed from his uniform into something similar, with the same kind of fabric. "This is your new uniform," he explained.

Caradan eyed him shortly as she took the offered clothing. Without a word, she nodded, took them and went to Mindo's lavatory, closing the door behind her.

Mindo had already turned his back when he heard the door close. He smiled to himself. When she had morphed from the image of the Nausicaan, he'd seen her gel-like liquid state, her true naked image. The modesty they shared now was somewhat ironic, but Mindo understood it. Still, he had forgotten how beautiful she was that way... a flowing shape, with no inhibition. Living matter. In every way blank, but complex. In that form, she could be anything. To him, it would always be warmth.

"I was not followed," her voice came from inside the lavatory, "as ordered. If I was, they followed someone else to the Academy courtyard."

"That's good," Mindo said, broken of the reflection. He heard the door open and turned around to see her. He smiled. "You look great! How does it feel?"

Without the nerves to 'feel' the clothing and with the ability to adjust herself as to make anything fit snug or baggy to any desired amount, "It's nice," is all she said. Caradan went to the bag on the floor, unzipped it to reveal her regular uniform. She dug through it, finding her gloves and al-amira, immediately putting them both on. "Someone found out you are here, on Earth," she said as she pulled her al-amira over her head and started tucking it under her new uniform. "I formed myself as that Nausicaan before heading this way. I do that sometimes in an attempt to stage a security sting. Besides, I felt that would keep me from being followed. I was approached by a shady figure and was offered credits to see to the demise of someone with your name. I got no other information from him; identification, who he is working for. Nothing."

"Really?" Mindo said, almost smiling. "How many credits did he offer?"

"In most circles, it is unbecoming of a Nausicaan to ask the amount as they prefer the opportunity for violence above all." She stepped upon Mindo, observing him and inspecting his own uniform. "I didn't ask," she shortened her explanation. Caradan looked herself over in the uniform. "This thing seems to have a Romulan design to it."

"Yeah," Mindo said. "Ensign Sh'vastarth found it. They're made from a rare Romulan fabric and make it difficult for other ships to detect who we are. I don't really get the science. You'd have to ask her. But I think they'll be useful. We'll have to hide our uniforms somewhere on the ship we acquired. It sounds like a garbage heap, but Zo has been refitting it the last few days and is confident he can get us to warp six by the end of the week. We don't have shields, or weapons, but Zo is installing better sensor arrays and also new replicators. I need you to find some contraband for the cargo hold. If we get boarded by pirates or border guards we'll need something to use to bribe them. Think you're up for it?"

There were many avenues to accomplishing that objective, but one name shot to the forefront of her mind. Caradan rolled her eyes at the thought. "Yes," she said, "I am up for that." And she knew almost nothing was too much to ask. "Did you have any particular contraband in mind?"

"I don't know," Mindo said. "Something that gets us past the border. Nothing too shady, but it can't have a Federation stamp. Also, we need other cargo as well, like provisions. Food, canned goods, medicine, survival gear. Where we're going, people need things like that, and some of them may be even more deadly for that reason. Starvation and illness can bring out the worst in the best of people." He sighed. "As much as I hate to say this, we need weapons too."

Caradan thought of just the place. More precisely, she called to mind the person who could get them to the place; Lynch. She did not want, much, to make contact with him but he was the best avenue to take to see to the accomplishment of this assignment. She decided to skip naming her contact and jump straight to the interesting bit. "There is an F.E.R.D., that is Federation Emergency Rations Depot. There are many of these actually. All floating in orbits of various bodies. All unmanned and unsecured, though their locations are kept secret and off the books. They are generally located way outside of shipping lanes, areas of interest, etc. These depots have everything we need, to include weapons. The weapons...you will need a captain's clearance code to acquire. If you haven't the ability, I might be able to bypass that," she said when she really meant she would get Lynch to bypass it for them. "We fly to a particular location and we can get what we need. It will have a Federation stamp on it, years old, however, and possibly outdated. We can say it we acquired it all without Starfleet being the wiser."

Mindo nodded, but didn't say anything. His eyes looked blank, and it was apparent she had lost his full attention.

"Mindo," she said after a long second. Squinting her eyes at him needlessly, "Are you here? You don't appear 100%."

"Cara," he said, quietly. "I'm not sure I can do this. I don't think I'm the leader type. I know everyone trusts me, but I can't get past the feeling that I'm in far and away over my head. I have to give the briefing tomorrow and I don't even know what to say. I tried typing it out, but I can't concentrate. I start typing on the PADD and my mind just goes blank. The last three months have come down to this and I just don't know..."

"...if you can lead effectively," she said as though finishing his thought. Caradan thought briefly. Pep talks were never her thing and she used to be better at them than she was now. At least it was just her and Mindo and not a whole team she was speaking to. Using that, as well as some of the knowledge she had acquired from her counselor as well as Lynch, "Just be yourself and push forth motivation, false motivation if you have to, when you give the briefing. Tell them there is a plan, even if you do not have on. Trust, as you know, goes both ways. Everyone trusts you but you have to trust everyone in return. Trust that your XO, your pilot, your Intelligence officer, your engineer, your Science officer, trust that any one of them will speak their mind and come up with a suggestion as the situation changes on the fly. And use that suggestion to update your plan that may have been nonexistent to begin with." Yeah there was a bit of dishonesty to be had for a captain to mention the existence of a plan when one did not exist, but, "do you know how many starship captains have gone into situations without a plan at all, but told their crews that there was a plan? Almost every single one of them. Success came from trust; trust in the captain as well as the captain's trust in the crew."

Mindo smiled and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not sure any of that made sense, but I appreciate the effort," he said. "What the hell... the worst we can do is die, right? It's not like we haven't faced that before."

Caradan thought briefly that there were plenty more fates worse than death...and that she had experienced several of them already. In fact, she had not felt very much alive at all over the past few years. "I know self-doubt and fear," she said. "Dr. Lauda," she said without intending on naming her counselor, "my counselor that is...told me that the best way to face fear is to do exactly what it is that you are afraid of." With that, Caradan started working at the glove on her left hand. She tugged on each finger, working it loose, then swiped it off her hand. She showed her hand to Mindo. "Scopophobia," she announced. "Is one of the phobias I was diagnosed with. It is the fear of being seen." She balled her hand into a fist before Mindo then unfurled her fingers, even allowed her hand to shift form slightly. "In my case, I have an aversion to allowing my form to be seen, hence why I cover up." She took a deep breath with lungs she did not intend to mimic and held her hand there for Mindo to see.

Unsure of himself, Mindo gently brought up his hand, parting his fingers to match the spacing of hers. He stopped just short of touching the tips of her fingers. When he looked into Caradan's eyes, his hand retreated back to his side, and this time he was the one to look away, saying nothing.

And that was all Caradan felt comfortable with before working to replace the glove on her hand. "Facing your fears," she said as she was hastily jamming her hand back inside, "and facing your doubts. The only way to overcome is to put yourself into that position," she was repeating Dr. Lauda's words. The glove was on and she was interlacing her fingers ensuring it fit all the way down to her plica interdigitalis. "Success may not be immediate, but success will follow." She forced herself to try and believe her counselor's words. "Lead us, Mindo. And you will see that you can, in fact, do this."