Star Trek: Eclipse/ Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Ziranne scowled somewhat as the young toddler bawled over a broken crayon. To tell the truth, his face was as red as that crayon from all the screaming.

"Children," Ziranne thought, shaking her head. She mustn't let this disturb the class. It was bad enough no one paid attention to her lectures. But this was too much. "Torias, please. I'm trying to teach and your tantrum isn't helping at all."

"But my cray'n got broke!" Torias whined. This was followed by another fit of screaming and sobbing. Ziranne was uncertain as whether to spank Torias or just give him another crayon. Ziranne was about to go with the former when a loud beep came from her office.

"If you'll excuse me." Ziranne entered her office and quickly closed the door behind her, muffling all that bawling. "Computer, open the channel."

A panel on the wall slid open, revealing a screen. There was the face of a well known Starfleet officer on it. "Hello, Ziranne." It was Julian Bashir.

"Doctor," Ziranne addressed quietly with a nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this transmission?"

"Starfleet... needs your help with something."

"And what is that?"

"A case," Bashir replied vaguely, frowning. "They didn't tell me much. Most of the information is classified. They just said to request for your assistance, then bring you to Earth for a meeting to discuss it."

"Why me? I'm no Starfleet officer. Sure, my previous host Jarem was in Starfleet, but he was just a medical officer. Something tells me that this'll take more than the experience of one doctor," Ziranne told him. "And that ended poorly with Jarem during my- I mean his last mission."

"I know, I read the report. But this simply cannot wait. There's probably a heck of a lot at stake, and we may need all the help we can get." Bashir frowned further as he spoke. "Please, Ziranne. I can't make you do this, but things are getting desperate."

"Fine, I'll come."

"Thank you." Bashir glanced at something- or someone- behind him. "I should be there in twenty four hours, seven minutes, and fifteen seconds if there aren't any... mishaps along the way."

"I heard that!" A voice in the background shouted. Whoever it was sounded offended.

"I brought a friend along," Bashir told Ziranne, who found this somewhat funny. "He won't be any trouble. Probably."

Ziranne nodded. "Alright. See you soon. Computer, end transmission."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">_____________________________________________________________________________________

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">The cold breeze seemed to pierce Ziranne's skin as she walked on the landing pad. Even though Trill usually liked it being chilly, this felt... like a warning. Like something was telling her to turn around and go home. That she shouldn't do this. By the time the instinctive side of her would have taken over, Bashir was suddenly at her side.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Ah, Ziranne!" Bashir greeted rather hastily. "Nice to see you arrived on time. Come on, we have to get a move on!" The British Starfleet officer practically shoved Ziranne into the runabout.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Not exactly what I had in mind," Ziranne spoke as she sat down on a seat slowly. "But it'll-" Ziranne stopped talking as soon as she saw the "friend" Bashir was talking about. He was at the main computer console of the runabout, apparently reading something on a data pad.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"A Cardassian?!" Ziranne stood up in fury. "What the deuce is going on here?!"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"I apologize for not telling you," Bashir spoke, "but I knew you wouldn't come if you knew Mr. Garak was here with me."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Doctor," Garak spoke, somewhat annoyed, "the next time you're going to bring someone who hates Cardassians, do tell me so I can eject myself into outer space so I don't have to hear them complain?"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">Bashir just shrugged. "I'll set a course for Earth."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"You do that," Garak responded, not even looking up.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">Ziranne glared at the Cardassian, then looked at Bashir. "Ditto."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">______________________________________________________________________________________

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"A raktijino please," Ziranne requested of the replicator. A mug of steaming hot raktijino appeared seconds later. The middle-aged Trill took a sip, only to spit it back into the cup. "That's gross!"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Then why did you order it?" Garak asked, still reading something on the data pad.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"One of my previous hosts liked it," Ziranne replied, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Old habits die hard."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"That phrase is being used way too much." Garak lapsed back into silence while Ziranne tried to figure out what to drink.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Um... iced tea. No, scratch that. Um... Irish coffee. No no.... Klingon bloodwine. No, not that. Never mind." Ziranne sat down after a moment just as Bashir came in.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Having trouble?" Bashir asked.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"A little, but it's fine," Ziranne replied.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"We'll be on Earth in five hours, thirty-eight minutes, and forty seconds. It'll be a long ride, so-"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">Suddenly something, like a photon blast, hit the side of the runabout. It literally shook the whole ship, not just the hull itself.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"What the deuce was that?!" Ziranne suddenly heard Jarem's voice in her head. "Get to the computer console. Scan for ships." Ziranne obeyed the voice and scrambled to the dashboard. "I'm scanning for enemy ships... there's one. It looks like a Jem'Hadar fighter!"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Jem'Hadar?" Garak moved towards where Ziranne was standing as another blast hit the runabout. "She's right..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Initiating evasive maneuvers." Ziranne attempted to bring the runabout to impulse, but a stream of sparks flew from the dashboard, destroying the computer console on it. "So much for that."

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">Another blast hit their ship, more specifically barely missing the thrusters.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"They're trying to take out our thrusters," Bashir spoke, moving towards another console.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"I can see that!" Ziranne retorted, also moving to another computer.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Arguing is not going to get us anywhere!" Garak shot back, trying to activate the runabout's defense mechanisms. "I'll see if I can get the shields online. The Jem'Hadar ship may be much stronger than the runabout, but we need something to protect ourselves with!"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"They're hailing us." Bashir turned towards his colleagues. "Should I open the channel?"

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Yes." Ziranne looked towards the communication screen as the doctor opened the channel. The face of a badly scarred Jem'Hadar appeared.

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">"Greetings, members of the Federation. How nice to finally meet you." <p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);"> <p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">

<p style="font-weight:normal;color:rgb(58,58,58);">~ End of Chapter 1