Acheron Chronicles, Jolias Enor

This is a novella I'm working on for Enor. It takes place three months after his Command of the Warrior ended and eight years before his arrival on Astate Colony. Basically for character development. I'll post installments of this bi-weekly. Hope you enjoy it.

"Don't let them promote you. Don't let them transfer you. Don't let them do anything that takes you off the bridge, of that ship. Because as long as you're there, you can make a difference." – James T. Kirk

Prelude

It was cold, at least colder then the mission report had predicted, Eric Biltmore wished he had turned on the local weather net broadcast before coming out to the gathering point, a sweater did little to insulate him from the frigid temperatures. Above him ominous clouds lingered which probably meant that within the next hour it would be snowing. "Damnit" he cursed sliding his hands into the sleeves of the sweater to thaw the frozen digits. This cold wasteland was certainly a change in scenery from two weeks earlier when he was back in San Francisco. Closing his eyes he could imagine the hot beaches of the rocky California coast, the beautiful women in skimpy swimsuits, and the unrelenting waves of the violent Pacific Ocean. For a moment, a brief moment, he felt the warm California sun rush over him but the feeling quickly evaporated at the sound of approaching footsteps in the cold reality of the frozen wasteland. Opening his eyes he stared at the approaching set of Orions.

"Not very cold Mark?" A tall and bulky Orion addressed Eric by the fake name he was using for this mission. Eric hated Zinal, the leader of the Orion operation on this planet; he was both ruthless and efficient. Ever since he witnessed Zinal pummeling a woman into a bloody heap he had not respect for the man. Behind Zinal were his two henchmen; Ajax, the smaller but yet equally sinister Orion, and Toren, another tall but rather lanky Orion who was rumored to have at least a hundred love slaves. All in all they were very bad company.

"Cold, well at least somewhat. I didn't check the weather net since it was a sweltering sixty degrees yesterday, amazing how much things can change in just twenty-four hours isn't it?" Eric grinned while resisting the urge to shiver. Showing this group any sign of weakness could be deadly "I trust it you didn't come here to discuss the weather conditions though, Zinal?"

Zinal laughed and pulled on his fur coat "I can't stand the cold- I guess humans have a better handle on such ridiculous temperatures, but you're right I didn't come here to discuss the weather. Yesterday's shipment was, well how I can say this, a bit problematic. We lost almost all of our cargo, the idiot freighter Captain didn't handle the cargo properly, and now we're going to have to delay our shipment to you for a few weeks."

Eric knew that the cargo the freighter was carrying consisted of slaves from the Orion home world and losing that shipment meant that several innocent people died, something he was partly responsible for. Starfleet Intelligence told him the mission would be treacherous but he didn't imagine something like this happening- it made him queasy to think he assisted in the murder of dozens of people "That's disappointing; my clients will not be please Zinal. You assured us that this shipment would be ready by today and now you're backing down. If it's not ready by today then I'll have to cancel the shipment."

"Don't get ahead of yourself Mark, we have a solution; we have a large number of locals- not as beautiful as Orion women but their flesh is just as good. We can send you fifty and because they're not Orion's I'll half the price." Zinal traced rim of ears with a finger, it was a definite warning sign telling Eric not to back out of the agreement. He would have to proceed carefully.

"My clients specifically wanted Orions" Eric spoke with the irritated authority of a slighted businessman "but I'm not beyond some compromise. We'll take these fifty women if you can bring us a new shipment from Orion, but at a third of the original price."

"A third?! Ridiculous!" Zinal clinched his fists and Eric could see the frustration in his eyes but then abruptly the Orion relaxed his stance "how about a quarter off? My best offer."

"A quarter?" Eric creased his forehead to pretend that he was consider it thoughtfully "I'm sorry, but that won't do, a third, or no deal."

"No deal?" Zinal sighed and through up his hands in apparent defeat "I'm sorry, but we had a deal Mark, your associates can't keep up their end of the bargain?"

"You're the one that broke the agreement Zinal. The shipment was supposed to be here today!" Eric could feel the tension rising. Zinal turned to his henchmen and ushered them behind a native conifer tree. He had clearly made a mistake in considering how much the Orion might be willing to haggle.

Zinal didn't reappear but his two associates did. Both of the wielding large blunt objects. This can't be good, Eric thought alarmed, twisting around he sprinted towards his hover car. Behind him he could hear the footsteps of the Orions in hot pursuit. Ahead he could see the bright orange hood of the hover car, just a few more seconds, he thought, and I'll be able to get a hold of the shuttle. But an arm length away from the hover car he felt a hard object crack into the back of his skull. A terrible numbing sensation creased down his spine and he tumbled over the hood of the hover car and then onto the cold rocky Earth. Trying to reorient himself Eric felt a warm liquid sliding down the back of his neck and into the collar of his sweater, above him, he could hear labored breathing.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt too long." Eric heard someone say but his vision was still too blurred to see from who or where it came from. Raising his hand into the darkness he shouted "No! I'm not Mark."

"Not Mark?" He instantly recognized the voice of Zinal "then who are you and why shouldn't we kill you?"

In a moment of fear he broke the most basic rule "I'm Captain Eric Biltmore, Starfleet Intelligence."

"Starfleet!?" Zinal spat, and then Eric was engulfed by darkness.

Chapter 1, Old Friends

The bright California sun poured through the open blinds of the office decorating the desk and furniture in bars of light resembling an old prison cell. Commodore Jolias Enor, the newest head of Starfleet archaeological operations, traced the joints of his desk as his mind wandered. Three months ago he was Commanding Officer of one of the most powerful ships in Starfleet; the Sovereign Class USS Warrior. And now here he was: Commanding Officer of a desk and a squeaky office chair that left him on the edge of madness. Starfleet had enticed him, flattered him, told him how much his expertise would be of use, and then they stuck him in a small office like a useless old PADD stuffed into the back of a refuse pile. Of course that was a bit exaggerated but it was how he felt. The truth was he regretted it, he regretted it terribly, but he also knew it was a decision he couldn't take back. There would be no second chances for him; a desk was probably his last stop before retirement. The desks might get bigger but they would only be desks, and he would be forever trapped in the prison called an 'office'.

Jole was so deep into his thoughts that he didn't hear the door chime until it rang for what was probably the fifth or sixth team. Realizing that someone was at his door he stood up abruptly wondering if another member of the admiralty was coming to see him "Enter!" he shouted.

"A bit tense, aren't we Jole?" Hearing the voice of his old friend, Captain Jeremy Savage, Jole relaxed but quickly tensed when he noticed the two square pips on the collar of the person accompanying Jeremy. Easily noticing the apprehension in his friend, Jeremy smirked "Calm down will ya? It's just Natasha."

"Natasha?" Jole blinked still a bit dazed from his day dreaming and then he realized who it was. "Natasha! I haven't seen you since…" his voice trailed off after he realized the last place they met was Eric's funeral two months ago "since the Funeral." It was a depressing note to a rather joyful encounter. Natasha Aisenyev or Rear Admiral Aisenyev as she was known now was one of Jole's eight quad mates from his days at the Academy. Natasha was the one who kept him, Jeremy, and Eric from getting into too much trouble at the Academy. She didn't do the best job since the trio earned the nickname 'troublesome trio' but there were always exciting adventures to be had, how much he missed those days.

"I'm glad to see you again Jolias." Natasha never called him by the nickname 'Jole' it was always 'Jolias' with her. During the Academy days her blond hair touched her waist but now it was shoulder length. Her bright blue eyes seemed a bit duller and her pallor slightly paler. Specks of wrinkles were now forming around the edges of her lips but overall she was still beautiful "Eric's parents were very happy that you attended the funeral."

Jole nodded a bit somberly thinking about it. At the funeral there were people he had not seen or spoken too since graduation. In retrospect he regretted not keeping in touch with many of them, Eric especially, but it was too late by then. Eric was already dead. "It was a good service" the line felt a bit cliché but it always seemed appropriate "how are you feeling?"

"Tired. I've been on Earth for the past few days drudging up support for a proposal to the Academy." Natasha glanced at Jeremy briefly "Well, we've been drudging up support for a proposal to the Academy. We were wondering if you would toss your weight behind it?"

"Weight?" Jole smiled wryly at the thought that anything he said actually held any 'weight.' He was just a forgotten flag officer put in charge of one of the smallest departments in the science arm of Starfleet "I don't know how much weight attaching my name to it will carry but I'll be happy to assist you however I can."

"Well we're not exactly looking for you to endorse it. We want you to help us with it." Jeremy's vague reply piqued Jole's curiosity "tell him Natasha." Jeremy said glancing at the Admiral.

"Jolias, Eric's not dead."

---

"Not dead?" Jole knew the funeral was empty casket because Eric's body was never found but all indications were that Eric had been killed during a botch infiltration attempt into the Orion syndicate. "I don't mean to sound callous but what makes you think he's not dead? I mean all of us went over the records from Starfleet Intel about his mission and they were quite thorough with their investigation into his disappearance."

"You don't sound callous Jolias and I understand your hesitation but after the funeral I paid some people to ask around. They learned that someone, a Starfleet Officer, was captured by the Syndicate. They couldn't find out much and one of them is actually missing but I'm almost one-hundred percent certain that Eric is not dead." Natasha's lips quivered momentarily; just long enough for Jole to see it, and her fingers were clasped tightly against her waist. She was serious about it at least.

"I don't understand one thing though. What does this have to do with the Academy?" Jole asked.

"On the outside not much." Jeremy started, "we already approached Starfleet about doing our own investigation into Eric's disappearance but Admiral Layman shut that idea down. I guess she doesn't like others nosing into her affairs but onto the point, we've found a way to conduct our investigation anyways. Starfleet Academy has been looking to do a realistic field assignment tour for its cadets for awhile. They just haven't received interest from any major command candidates to do this, at least until now. We'll conduct the investigation while doing the field assignment with the cadets. In the process we'll discover what really happened to Eric and those cadets will have a chance to learn from the best."

"I see, and just who have you signed on to this idea?" Jole wasn't sold, this was a very dangerous ploy, and if Starfleet found out about it both Jeremy and Natasha's careers would be in jeopardy. He didn't want to add his name to that list, at least not yet.

"Oh, just me, Natasha, Gene, Karen, Fett, and oh yea Sinak too." Jeremy grinned, "It took us a little bit of extra negotiating to get Sinak onboard, you know how Vulcan's are, but he finally agreed."

Jole instantly recognized all those names. Gene Kauffman, Karen Kauffman-Helni, Fett, and Sinak were all members of their quad back at the Academy. The eight of them had the nickname 'Elite Eight' since all of them were at the top of their respective classes "How did you get them onboard, wait, how did you get Gene and Karen away from the Lexington?"

"The Lexington is in the middle of a refit so they both have the time. Eric meant a lot to all of us during and after the Academy. I know you didn't keep in touch as much as the rest of us did but he wed Gene and Karen. He helped Fett get the Executive Officer position on the USS Monitor and he saved Sinak's life." Jeremy's smile softened "and he was there for you when Rain died. He's done so much for us, if there is a just a chance, even a slight chance that he is still alive, we want to do everything we can to help him. Since Starfleet doesn't want to let us, we'll just pull a fast one on them."

It was true that Eric had done a lot for all of them but the thought of doing this through the Academy made him very uneasy "I want to help Eric but I'm just not sure about this. Have you really exhausted all the avenues? Did you speak with Admiral Morrison or Admiral Tonageau? They're both level headed and would probably sponsor a second investigation into Eric's disappearance if you present them with your new evidence Natasha."

Natasha shook her head "Tiffany Laymen will just snuff it out like she did our last attempt. She pointedly informed Jeremy that Eric was dead and that investigation by her own people was thorough and concise. I sent her my information but she rebuffed it as 'amateur work that has no bearing on what really happened' to quote her. I'm afraid that this is the only chance we have to look into the matter ourselves. They won't let Jeremy take the Mayhem to the Litaran system and they won't let Gene take the Lexington."

Jole sighed still not sure about all of it but Eric did a lot for him and it wasn't right not to repay such favors. If there was a chance, even a slim one, he still had to chance it "Okay, I'll help. What do you want me to do?"

"You remember old maid Millicent?" Jeremy asked. Jole remembered Admiral Millicent well. She was the commandant of Starfleet Academy, when he was a cadet, and now. Looking at Jeremy he winced.

"What do you have in mind?"

---

Admiral Lisa Millicent was ancient by human standards. The Academy Commandant had served the role for over thirty years now but she accepted the position when she turned eighty. Her thin ivory hair flowed carelessly over her shoulders. Her face was covered in an innumerable amount of wrinkles and liver spots but her vibrant green eyes still showed an energy many others would have long since lost. Looking at the two guests in front of her Millicent turned her eyes onto the Trill "Commodore Jolias Enor. You look a bit uneasy, surprising considering how many times you and your pals found yourselves in my office." She winked at him "It's good to see that you've done yourself good. It always pleases me when a troubled young man turns out so well. And you." She turned her gaze to Natasha "you've also done great. Not surprising, you were always intelligent, and very observant."

"Thank you for the compliments." Natasha answered for both of them which relieved Jole. He still found the presence of the old hag unnerving. He couldn't help but think her skin barely held tight to her bones since it seemed to droop down awkwardly giving the old woman an appearance that her flesh was sliding off.

"I received your preliminary proposal and I must say it is very interesting." Admiral Millicent picked up her mug of steam tea and took a hearty sip "Captain Rashaad was considering a similar proposal but it never came to fruition sadly. I am a firm believer in giving cadets all the experiences that we can provide. A field assignment like this would be the perfect opportunity for outgoing cadets and first year cadets to get a good feel for what Starfleet is about and you certainly have recruited an all-star cast." Millicent named the people who were willing to join the training mission "any cadet would be blessed to be apart of this project. I just have one concern however- can you guarantee the safety of these cadets?"

"Being part of Starfleet involves risk Admiral. If they want to get a true feeling for what means to be a Starfleet Officer then they need to feel the risk that we put ourselves through every day. Whether it be trying to get a sample from an asteroid field or fighting off raiders trying to board a transport- risk is a part of our business. Of course Cilvia Furman will be acting as Chief of Security and she will ensure that there are no unnecessary risks for them and their safety will be our top priority."

Millicent looked at Jole "What do you think Commodore? You've been pretty quiet, do you have something on your mind."

Jole couldn't help but think about Eric and the truth about what they were doing. Millicent's x-ray vision was a clear as ever seeing through his brittle façade of confidence but Jole was no longer that uncertain cadet that sat in the same spot many years earlier "Natasha is a very eloquent speaker, I didn't feel the need to say anything, but I think this is an excellent opportunity for the Academy. It's not often that so many great minds are willing to offer their expertise to the coming generations."

Smiling Millicent nodded her head "I agree fully. This is an opportunity that the Academy would be foolish to pass up." Reaching into her desk she pulled out a PADD "When you sent me this proposal Admiral Aisenyev I started to go through the fleet inventory looking for a perfect ship. It's not much but it'll do." She slid the PADD to Natasha who picked it up and glanced over it before handing it off to Jole. "It's the USS Acheron an old Excelsior Class that was brought out of mothballs for the 2401 war. It was about to be decommission, at least until I stopped that process, I think this will be perfect."

"An Excelsior Class?" Jole grinned impishly thinking about all the interesting stories he had heard over the years about the class. It hadn't been used in full service since after the Dominion war. Only in times of crisis were the ships brought back into service. "I'm sure the Cadets will find the experience enlightening both practically and historically."

Natasha smiled "There will certainly be a lot of history on the Acheron."