Brunt stood behind the bar, idly wiping away at the surface with a moderately clean rag. It was still early in the morning and the bar wouldn’t open for another few minutes, so the Ferengi used this rare moment of quiet to think about some things.
Late the night before, he’d gotten a message from Leck. The message was simple and stated only that Leck had some business to discuss with the barkeep. Brunt hadn’t heard a peep out of the Eliminator since the two of them had participated in that ridiculous (though admittedly relatively profitable) scheme of Quark’s to save Quark’s mother from the Dominion, several years before. Brunt had been somewhat apprehensive at first, given Leck’s choice of profession, but he’d quickly considered that if Leck had been planning to assassinate him for some reason, he surely wouldn’t have called first.
“Yo, big ears! Whazzup?” said an entirely too loud voice, jarring Brunt out of his thoughts. The Ferengi sighed wearily. So much for the peaceful quiet of morning. He turned his head and regarded the two ponies who had just walked into the bar. Vinyl Scratch gave him a sardonic grin as she walked past on her way toward the stage for their morning show.
“Good morning, Mr. Brunt,” said Octavia, nodding slightly as she followed along behind her companion. Brunt sighed again and nodded in return. He liked the earth pony more than her unicorn partner, though that wasn’t saying much. She was far less abrasive than the other, which he appreciated, but she could get under his skin in other ways. The fact that he was now paying the two of them almost double what he had been originally was a clear demonstration of those other ways.
As though the arrival of the two ponies was some sort of cue, the bar began to quickly fill up with customers. Most of them were there for the show that the two ponies were about to put on, of course, and Brunt, though he couldn’t see the appeal in it himself, was perfectly fine with that. In fact, he was more than fine with it, since he knew that without them, he would have very little business at all, though he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, least of all the two ponies. Not yet, anyway.
“Check,” said Vinyl, testing her equipment, causing the Ferengi bartender to wince at the slight feedback. Vinyl’s horn lit up briefly as she made some minor adjustments, and then she looked out into the crowd with a huge grin on her face. Brunt’s wince became a full on scowl, because he knew exactly what was coming next. The white unicorn raised her voice (quite unnecessarily, in the Ferengi’s opinion, since the equipment amplified her voice more than enough) and shouted, “HEY, YOU GUYS! WHAT’S GOING ON? YOU ALL READY TO JAM? AW YEAH, THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT!”
The crowd responded enthusiastically, and Octavia spoke up in what Brunt considered a much more reasonable tone of voice, though still far too loud given the amplification. As she welcomed the crowd and the two ponies bantered for a while before starting the first song in their set, Brunt tried his best to tune them out. He had more important things to worry about, not the least of which was the matter of who or what he was going to get to replace these two once their contract ran out at the end of the year, but that could wait. Right now, the impending visit from Leck was a much larger concern.
As he absently poured the occasional drink for customers sitting at the bar, the Ferengi barkeep’s eyes continually scanned the room and frequently flicked over to the door, expecting to see the Eliminator’s face at any moment, but all he saw were other aliens coming in and out of his establishment, a lot of them humans and most of them Starfleet personnel. Brunt rolled his eyes and once more cursed the luck that had landed him on this station.
Something caught his eye which made him completely forget about Leck, at least for the moment. Two humans had just walked into the bar. Brunt immediately realized that one of them was somewhat familiar to him, though there was no way it could be who he thought it was, could it? But then he saw something that confirmed his suspicions. Attached to the man’s arm was a mobile holo-emitter. The Ferengi shook his head confusedly, because this man was none other than Vic Fontaine, the famous lounge singer and, more interestingly, a hologram. Ordinarily, Fontaine performed his act in his lounge, which just happened to be inside of a perpetually running holosuite on Deep Space Nine, of all places, and in which he’d made quite a name for himself across both the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. Brunt had never deigned to visit the holographic lounge himself during his occasional visits to DS9, but he heard it was quite the place. The Ferengi ground his teeth a bit, annoyed by the fact that his hated rival Quark had such a latinum-making act like this locked up. However, what was more interesting to Brunt at the moment was the question of why Fontaine was here, on Deep Space Twenty and, more importantly, in his bar.
Taking his eyes off of Fontaine, Brunt glanced at his companion, and then did another double take. The Ferengi hadn’t paid much attention to the second man at first, partly because he’d been too surprised by the appearance of Fontaine and partly because the second man seemed at first glance to be just another guy in a Starfleet uniform, but it turned out that this man was also a hologram. Not only that, but he was also quite famous himself, perhaps even more so than Fontaine. After all, at least a good third or so of the holosuite programs Brunt had in his own library had been created by this man. But, more than that, this holographic man had been one of the crew of the starship Voyager, the Starfleet vessel that had been lost in the Delta Quadrant for seven years. Known only as the Doctor, he was the former chief medical officer of Voyager, now a resident at Starfleet Medical, and, of course, also a self-proclaimed dabbler in the art of the holo-novel. He was much more than a dabbler, as far as Brunt was concerned, given that the man was quite prolific and his works were among the most popular that Brunt had available. The Ferengi knew that the Doctor was a fairly acclaimed operatic singer as well, and a shared interest in music could explain why he was hanging around with Fontaine, though it didn’t explain why either of them was here in Brunt’s bar.
Brunt watched as the two holograms took seats at one of the tables closest to the stage, clearly intending to watch the show like everyone else. More than a few eyes in the audience briefly turned from the stage in their direction as they sat down. In fact, had he not been preoccupied, the Ferengi would have been making a beeline for their table. Even though he already knew that they would have no need of his refreshments, it still would have been a good opportunity for him to engage them in conversation. He silently cursed Leck for picking this day, of all days, to want to conduct business. The thought of Leck caused Brunt to quickly whip his head around the room again, checking for the presence of the Eliminator, but he still saw nothing. Grudgingly, he turned his attention away from his two famous visitors and went back to scanning the bar and door with his eyes.
So caught up in his uneasiness over Leck’s imminent arrival, as well as continuing to idly ruminate on the presence of Fontaine and the Doctor, he was surprised when the music stopped and the two ponies left the stage. He glanced at his chronometer and noticed that it was already almost midday. It seemed like he’d only just arrived and opened the bar a few moments ago, but apparently he had been so preoccupied that several hours had already passed with him hardly being aware of it.
“See ya this evening, Brunt,” said Vinyl Scratch, as she and her partner made their way for the exit. Neither of them stayed in his bar a single second more than they absolutely had to, and that was okay by him. The unicorn slowed as she passed by him and added, “Tomorrow’s payday, remember? Not the next day or the day after. Tomorrow. Don’t make us wait for no reason like you did last week.”
“Sure whatever,” said Brunt distractedly, trying to look over their heads at the door. “You’ll get your money, don’t worry.”
Octavia came to a stop in front of him and looked at him closely. “Are you okay, Mr. Brunt?” she asked, an unexpected hint of concern in her voice.
Brunt focused on her more fully. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he said, a bit testily. “It’s nothing that concerns you. Don’t you worry your little poh-nee head about it.”
Octavia glared at him and shook her head. “You just seemed troubled,” said the gray earth pony. “Well, far be it from me to dream of giving a care at all for your well being in the future. Pardon me.” She turned on her hoof and made for the exit, never giving him a second look, though the death glare that Vinyl was giving him as she followed her partner more than made up for it. Brunt sighed and watched them leave. These ponies were more trouble than they were worth, honestly. He was almost going to be glad to be rid of them when the contract expired. Almost. They did, after all, bring him quite a bit of latinum… and things were certainly lively with them around. Feeling the tiniest bit of remorse at how he’d spoken to Octavia, he pondered just how much latinum it would take to convince them to renew their contract with him. More than he had available at the moment, most likely, though that would hopefully be changing in the relatively near future.
“Ah well,” muttered Brunt to himself. He glanced at the chronometer again and sighed. Ordinarily, this would be around the time that he’d assign one of his other employees to take over the bar while he went out to get lunch, but he couldn’t do that today, given that Leck still hadn’t arrived. On the bright side, this gave him an excuse to go into the back room and whip up a batch of one of his new favorite dishes, though it would take a bit of work to prepare, given that not all of the components could be replicated. He made a quick dash to the back room to begin. It wouldn’t take too awfully long to make it, fortunately. As he prepared the food, he considered the fact that this would also be a perfect opportunity to have another Ferengi try the dish. Annoyingly, he had no Ferengi employees to use as test subjects like his rival Quark did, and he already knew that all of his non-Ferengi employees considered it to be incredibly vile. Bah, what did they know? In any case, he knew that Leck, at least, should be suitably impressed. Perhaps this would even help to grease the wheels of whatever transaction the other Ferengi had in mind today. Brunt placed the food onto a tray and made his way back out into the bar.
“Ah, there you are, Brunt,” said Leck, who had, of course, managed to sneak in during the short few minutes that Brunt had been out of the bar. “Don’t you know it’s not very wise to keep an Eliminator waiting like this?”
Star Trek: Pegasus
“Hologram Shenanigans – Part 1”
By Kane Magus
Brunt nearly spilled the tray full of food in his shock at seeing Leck sitting there. Instead, he managed to make the save by dropping the tray onto the counter directly in front of the Eliminator, as though that was what he’d planned to do all along.
Leck glanced down at the tray. “What is this?” he asked, a look of distaste coming over his face. “It looks disgusting, like some sort of hew-mon food.”
“Ah, please try to ignore how it looks,” said Brunt, attempting to hide the nervous edge in his voice. “I’m still working on the presentation for when I begin distribution of this fine dish on Ferenginar. What matters is the taste, and I assure you it is something that will make your lobes tingle. Go ahead. Try some.” As Leck watched him dubiously, Brunt picked up a morsel of the food and popped it into his mouth.
Leck hesitantly picked up some of the food in his hand and then took a bite. His eyes immediately widened. He quickly finished the first bit and grabbed some more. “By the Divine Treasury,” he said, admiration in his voice, “this is amazing. What is it?”
Brunt smiled in satisfaction and said, “Well, believe it or not, this is a dish I found down on the poh-nee planet. Those little things are called maah-feens. This particular dish originally had the not very marketable name of ‘Baked Bads,’ though I’m obviously going to be changing that before I start selling it on Ferenginar.”
“How did you find out about this?” asked Leck, around a mouthful of muffin. “Is all poh-nee food this delicious?”
“Ugh… no, most poh-nee food is even more disgusting than hew-mon food,” said Brunt dismissively. “As for this, however… I found it entirely by chance. You see…” Brunt leaned against the bar and settled into the time-honored Ferengi tradition of recounting the tale of a particularly profitable bit of business. “A couple of years ago, I was down on the poh-nee homeworld, scouting talent for my bar from among the locals when I happened across a most unusual poh-nee. She was one of those that can fly, a gray one with yellow hair. I mostly noticed her because of her eyes, though, which were somehow looking in two different directions at once. At first, I thought it might have been some sort of trick she was doing, so I decided to strike up a conversation with her. If she was some sort of entertainer, then perhaps I could have made use of her services for my bar. As it turns out, her eyes were just the result of an unfortunate medical condition, but that’s not important.
“Anyway, as we chatted, I found out that she was, among other things, a connoisseur of these maah-feens. She claimed to have every maah-feen recipe known to poh-nee kind. Well, as I’m always on the lookout for new dishes to serve in the bar here, I decided to take a look at what she had to offer. Just about all of her maah-feen dishes are hardly worth mentioning. They’re disgusting things that only a poh-nee or a hew-mon could enjoy. However, when I got my first whiff of these so-called ‘Baked Bads,’ I knew they were going to be something special.”
“So…” said Leck, a bit too chummily, “what’s in them? I’m pretty sure there’s some type of worm in here.”
Brunt narrowed his eyes and smiled shrewdly. “That would be telling, now wouldn’t it? I will share one of the ingredients with you, though. You’re right. It’s a kind of worm that lives on the poh-nee world. I’ve since learned that similar worms also live on the hew-mon homeworld as well. The original recipe for these maah-feens called for the whole thing to be cooked, and it’s… passable even in that state, but I’ve been making a few tweaks to it over the past couple of years. Now, for instance, the worms are still alive when they’re added to the maah-feen, and remain uncooked.”
“As well they should be,” said Leck, huffing a bit in disgust at the thought of someone actually ruining perfectly good worms by cooking them beforehand. “Worms can be jellied, at the most, but should never, ever be cooked.”
“I completely agree with you,” said Brunt, nodding. “But there is where my problem comes in. Since the living worms can’t be replicated, I’ve been trying to cultivate a number of them, but it turns out that they can’t survive in soil from Ferenginar. Our soil is too acidic, apparently. The worms require soil from either the poh-nee or the hew-mon worlds. I’ve tried substituting gree-worms and other Ferenginar native species, but the flavor just isn’t the same. I have to use these particular worms, or else it just doesn’t taste right. Until I can get around this problem, I won’t be able to begin mass distribution on Ferenginar. I’m considering just buying a few tons of soil from Equestria or Earth and transplanting it to Ferenginar, but then I’ll need a way to keep that soil from becoming just as acidic as our own. Either that, or I’ll just make the maah-feens here and have them shipped to Ferenginar, but that’s not really ideal either, since it’ll be difficult to preserve the living worms in them during the trip.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. So, what did you give to this poh-nee in trade for the recipe?” asked Leck.
Brunt shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal, and said, “Eh, I just gave her my old ship.”
Leck nearly choked on the piece of muffin in his mouth. He swallowed and said, “Wait… you mean that shuttle we all took to Empok Nor a few years ago?”
“The very one. That pony, named Ditzy Doo, has a very shrewd head for business,” said Brunt, with grudging admiration in his voice. “Would you believe that she somehow managed to snag the recipe for these ‘Baked Bads’ from the original creators for absolutely free? It seems that they didn’t realize the true value of it and just gave it away. They’d actually been considering destroying all knowledge of it before Ditzy Doo managed to convince them to give it to her, the fools. If I could have gotten to them before she did… ah well. Ditzy Doo seemed to think that the dragons on her world would be interested in this particular recipe, however, and she wasn’t as willing to share it with me quite so cheaply. I offered some latinum, but it didn’t interest her. Can you believe that? No, but she did mention that she’d noticed the shuttle that I’d flown in on and how she wanted a ship like that of her own someday. That’s when I knew I had her. Ninth Rule of Acquisition: ‘Opportunity plus instinct equals profit.’ My instincts were screaming at me to make this trade.”
“You’re telling me that you traded your shuttle for this maah-feen recipe?” said Leck incredulously. “I mean, yes, they are very good maah-feens, but…”
“It wasn’t just for the ‘Baked Bads’ recipe,” said Brunt, a bit defensively. “I got all of her maah-feen recipes in exchange for the ship. Unfortunately, the others are barely worth serving to the non-Ferengi patrons who come here, though they do seem to like them well enough. That ‘blue berry’ one or whatever it’s called seems to sell quite well, especially in the mornings for some reason, though it smells terrible to me.”
“Still, to trade a ship just for some recipes…” said Leck, not quite believing it.
“Bah, you saw my ship for yourself,” said Brunt derisively. “Even back when I overloaded it with you and the rest of Quark’s bunch, its best days were already behind it, and by the time of my dealings with Ditzy Doo, the thing was barely holding together. I had been planning to sell it for scrap soon anyway. It’s not like I needed a ship anymore, given that I hardly ever leave this bar these days. But this deal was so much better, because I now own the exclusive off-world manufacturing and distribution rights for these ‘Baked Bads’ or whatever I end up renaming them to, and all I had to give up was a rickety old ship. I hear that Ditzy Doo somehow managed to patch the thing up and is now using it for a courier service of some sort, but she could fly it straight into the Equus star at this point, for all I care. Once I get this operation going for real, I’ll be rich enough to buy a dozen of those ships. After I’m reestablished on Ferenginar, I’m even considering approaching the Klingons to gauge their interest in these maah-feens as well. The worms are not too dissimilar from their gagh and the like, after all.” He began speaking more to himself than to Leck as he said, “Hmm, perhaps I should try substituting gagh for the poh-nee worms. That hadn’t occurred to me before…”
Leck popped another muffin into his mouth and said, “Well, Brunt, they are indeed very tasty, and as interesting as listening to the stories of your potential success may be, that’s not really why I am here.” He was lazily playing with the handle of one of the knives in his belt as he spoke.
Brunt felt the hairs in his ears stand on end. He’d almost forgotten that Leck was an Eliminator and had actually been starting to think of him as a normal Ferengi. Big mistake, that. “All right,” he muttered noncommittally, “let’s get this over with.” His eyes never left the Ferengi sitting across the bar from him, or more specifically, the hand that was toying with the knife handle.
“You seem tense all of a sudden,” said Leck, with a large, toothy smile.
“Well,” said Brunt, “I’m just remembering the last time we were in a bar like this together. You threw a knife at my head, as I recall.”
Leck narrowed his eyes irritably. “Don’t insult me, Brunt. I threw a knife at the wall a meter or so to the right of your head. If I ever throw a knife directly at your head, you’ll know it. Or… rather… I guess you won’t know it. Because you’ll be dead. You know, from the knife sticking out of your skull.” Leck paused to smile at the obvious nervousness on Brunt’s face before continuing. “I’m actually a bit surprised that you agreed to see me at all. After all, I’m a… what was it you called me? A psychopath? Ah, yes, I think that’s the word you used.” At Brunt’s continued silence, Leck sighed and shook his head. “Your worry is misplaced, Brunt. It’s not what you think, whatever that may be. It’s just that I have come into possession of a small trinket that I thought you might be interested in, given that you run an establishment with holosuites.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small yellow cube, which he held out to Brunt. At the barkeep’s hesitation, Leck added, “Of course, if you’re not, I can always take it with me to Deep Space Nine later and show it to Quark…”
“Let’s not be hasty,” said Brunt, as he took the proffered cube and examined it. “Yes, this does look like Federation holo tech, though it’s at least a couple of decades old. Where did you get this? And, more importantly, why do you think I would have any interest in this?”
“My contact,” said Leck, “wouldn’t tell me exactly where he acquired this, and I’ve learned it’s usually better not to ask.”
“Leck, you’re not trying to pawn off stolen goods on me, are you now?” asked Brunt, lowering his voice.
“If I were, would that be a problem for you?” asked Leck in return, raising an eyebrow.
“Not generally speaking, no. Of course, it depends on who it was stolen from,” said Brunt.
Leck shrugged. “I honestly don’t know if it was stolen or not. Like I said, my contact didn’t give me the details. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll take him at his word that it’s just a vintage piece of holotech. I think it might be worth quite a bit of latinum in the right hands. Fortunately, for you, I came here first. But, like I said, if you’re so worried about it, we’ll just forget the whole thing, and I’ll just keep it and bring it with me the next time I go to DS9.”
Brunt stared hard at Leck for a long while, and then glanced down at the holocube again. “Fine, I’m glad you thought of me first. So, do you know what’s on it?”
Leck shrugged. “I haven’t had an opportunity to check into it, to be honest.”
The barkeep sighed. “Why would you possibly think that I’d be interested in a holocube that I don’t know the contents of? Do you mind if I at least take a look first?”
Leck shrugged again and said, “If it were anyone else, Brunt, I’d refuse, but in your case… sure, be my guest. I won’t even charge you extra for it. In fact, I have to admit that I’m also somewhat curious. I’ve been holding on to that thing for quite a while now, but I haven’t had access to a holosuite until now or else I would have already activated it myself.”
Brunt smiled and said, “Well, there’s no time like the present, wouldn’t you say? Let’s go to one of the empty holosuites.”
“We’ve got one more song for you guys in the set this morning,” said Vinyl Scratch, as she prepped to play the final song of the show. “It’s a new one and has quickly become one of Tavi’s favorites, so I’ll let her tell you all about it.”
Octavia nodded to her partner and leaned a bit onto her cello as she addressed the crowd. “As you regulars out there know, I usually like to end our shows with something a bit more tranquil. ‘Serenity’ is one such piece we’ve played in the past, which I hope you liked. This next piece is quite similar to that, though perhaps a bit more somber in tone. All of our songs are personal to us in some way or another, but this one… perhaps a bit more so. Without any further ado, we present you with this new piece, entitled ‘On That Winter Night.’ I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I did writing it.” As the crowd lightly applauded, Octavia nodded to Vinyl once more, and then stood up straighter, readying her hooves on her bow and the strings of her instrument.
As the two ponies began to play, the room went mostly silent. Down on the floor, at one of the tables closest to the stage, Vic Fontaine and the Doctor sat and listened. The song was rather unlike anything either of them had ever heard before, though that description honestly could be applied to all of the songs they’d heard from the two ponies that morning.
“Ah, they really are quite good, aren’t they?” said the gray-haired hologram in the tuxedo. He kept his voice low so as not to disturb any of the nearby patrons of the bar. “Not usually my thing, since I’m more into jazz, but still, I have to admit, this is a gas.”
The Doctor sighed contently as the song went on. He responded only with a slow nod at first, not wanting to break the spell being cast upon the room by the haunting melody. After a few moments, as the song began to wrap up, the balding hologram turned to his companion. “Indeed,” he said, “I’m definitely in agreement on that one. Though I prefer opera myself, this was indeed a wondrous performance. Hearing it described to me, and despite the glowing recommendation it received, I still expected to be confronted with little more than a disharmonious cacophony, but this really does work. A cello and a… what was it called again?” He and Fontaine both paused to applaud loudly with the rest of the room as the song finally drew to a close.
Watching the two ponies take a bow and then begin to make their exit from the stage, Fontaine thought for a moment and said, a bit uncertainly, “A turntable, I think? That sort of thing was after my time, I’m afraid. They didn’t have those things back in Vegas in the 1960s. At least not in the joints I played, anyway.”
“A turntable,” said the Doctor. “Who would have thought it would actually sound good together? Hmm, I wonder if they might be interested in performing a little quartet with us later. If classical cello and techno can mix well, who is to say that your cabaret and my own opera won’t fit in as well? I know it sounds unlikely, but then, a cello mixed with that sort of electronic music sounds unlikely as well, doesn’t it? It’s certain to be a novel experience, if nothing else. What do you say, Mr. Fontaine?”
“I’m game if you are, Doc,” said the lounge singer, grinning at the prospect. “And please, pally, I already told you a hundred times, just call me Vic.”
The Doctor smiled at his companion and turned toward the bar to see where the ponies were now. However, when he saw the end of the short conversation between them and the Ferengi bartender, the smile changed to a slight frown. “Hmm, it appears that now may not be the best time to try to approach them with our musical proposal,” he said, a bit disappointed.
“Why? What’s up?” said Fontaine.
“They apparently just had a run-in with the proprietor,” said the Doctor, nodding his head toward the bar. “I didn’t catch what was said, but it apparently left the ponies in a poor mood.”
Fontaine turned around in his seat and caught sight of the unicorn and the earth pony just as they disappeared through the exit from the bar. He glanced at the bartender and then did a double take. “Hey, is that Brunt?” he asked, surprise in his voice.
“Who?” said the Doctor, having no idea to whom Fontaine was referring.
“The bartender,” said Fontaine, nodding toward the bar. “I’m pretty sure that’s Brunt. He used to pop up on DS9 from time to time and cause a bit of trouble for Quark. I once overheard Quark talking about how his brother Rom, now Grand Nagus Rom, had gotten this bar for Brunt. I guess he felt sorry for the guy.” He swept his gaze around the room. “Though, from the looks of this place, I can’t say whether this was intended to be a gift or some kind of punishment.”
“It is a bit of a dive, isn’t it?” said the Doctor, with slight distaste in his voice. “You’d think a Federation starbase like this would maintain a higher standard for its vendors. Still, it’s one of the better places on the starbase to just sit around and relax, or so I’ve been told. Most of the other commercial places on this station tend to have some sort of cheesy gimmick to try to attract patrons, and I’m not really a fan of that sort of thing. Well, I guess this place does too, if you count the twice daily pony musical shows as a gimmick, but that’s still much more pleasing than, say, a seedy gambling hall or some such thing.”
“I’m actually a bit surprised that there isn’t any gambling here,” noted Fontaine. “You’d think there’d at least be a few dabo tables scattered around, but I guess not. Still, it reminds me of something that happened a few years ago, when my lounge back on DS9 was changed into a scummy casino as part of an attempt on the part of my creator to ‘liven things up’ a bit. Thankfully, it didn’t last very long before it was reset back to normal. If all of my friends on the command crew of DS9 hadn’t stepped up and lent me a hand, I’d probably still be scrounging around looking for work even now.”
“Ah, it’s nice to have friends in high places, is it not?” said the Doctor knowingly. “Sometimes, Admiral Janeway and I swap favors if the need arises.” His voice took on a somewhat nostalgic tone. “We may not serve together on Voyager any longer, but I would still do anything for the Admiral, and I’m proud to call her my friend. Same goes for all of my former shipmates. It’s a shame I don’t see them as often as I’d like.”
Fontaine nodded. “Yeah, a lot of my friends from DS9 have long since moved on to other things, too. Julian is still around though. Oh and speaking of which, he was so sore that he wasn’t able to come with me on this trip to meet with you.”
“Julian,” said the Doctor, trying to place the name. “Wait, you mean Dr. Julian Bashir, right? Ah. From what I understand, if things had turned out differently, one of the newer versions of medical hologram would have been based on him. Well, newer than my model was at the time anyway, as I’m sure it would be obsolete by now.”
Fontaine’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Really? Huh. Julian never told me that. I did hear that your ‘dad’ Dr. Zimmerman once visited DS9, though. Maybe that’s what that was about. Well then, I guess it’s no wonder he wanted to meet you.” He sighed and stretched, then said, “So, what do you want to do now?”
“Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go and speak to your friend Brunt, but it looks like he has other business,” said the Doctor.
Fontaine turned around to look at the bar again, just in time to see Brunt and another Ferengi heading up the stairs toward the holosuites. He turned back to the Doctor and shrugged. “Eh, he’s not really my friend. I’ve never even spoken to him myself, since he’s never bothered to visit my lounge the few times he was on DS9. Still, it would be impolite to leave without at least saying hello, I guess. We’re going to wait for the second pony show this evening anyway, right? We might as well just hang around here for a while.”
“It’s not like we have anything more pressing to deal with,” said the Doctor, sighing contentedly. “Ah… vacation. It took me a little while to get used to the idea of bona fide ‘leave time’ after Voyager made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. Aside from the occasional all too brief shore leave, we never really had much in the way of official leave in the Delta Quadrant. The holodecks were always very busy, though.”
“I’ll bet they were,” said the lounge singer. “So… tell me a little bit more about your time on Voyager. That first holo-novel you wrote… that was while you were still on Voyager, right? What was it called again? Photons Be Free, I believe?”
The Doctor groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me. That was not one of my finer works. Of course, I thought it was a masterpiece at first, but, well… let’s just say that the crew changed my mind on that. Not that it mattered, since the original version got published anyway, thanks to that philistine at Broht and Forrester. No respect for the rights of the author. After the hearing in which my rights were upheld, all copies of the original were supposed to be recalled, but you know as well as I do that once something like that gets out into the wild, it’s out for good.”
“Eh, I thought it was pretty good,” said Fontaine, with a slight shrug.
“You’ve seen it?” said the Doctor, a bit shocked. “The original version?”
“Of course,” said the singer. “It’s a cult classic with the hologram set. You didn’t know? I mean, yeah, I can understand why your crewmates on Voyager might have been a little bit torn up about it, but surely they understood that those were just characters loosely based on them and not actually what you thought of them, right?”
The Doctor’s eyes widened and he nodded vigorously. “Yes! That’s exactly what I said, too, but would they listen to me? Of course not! In fact, Mr. Paris actually had the nerve to take my program and-”
All conversation came to a screeching halt at the sudden screams emanating from the upstairs landing. “HELP!” cried a voice, as someone leaned over the railing. It was Brunt, the bartender. “Medical emergency! Is there a doctor in the house?! Please!”
The Doctor immediately stood up and called out, “I am a doctor! Please state the nature of the medical emergency!” Even before the Ferengi answered, he was already making for the stairs as quickly as he could. He was halfway up them before he noticed that Vic Fontaine was right behind him.
“Come to holosuite #3 quick!” said Brunt. “It’s Leck! Oh, it’s horrible! Just horrible!” He turned and ran into one of the nearby holosuites.
The Doctor and Fontaine followed him in. The scene before them brought them up short for a second or two. Brunt was kneeling next to another Ferengi, who had a large knife sticking out of his chest. The Doctor rushed to his side and said, “What happened to this man?! Computer, generate a standard issue Starfleet medical tricorder!” He provided his medical clearance code and then, with the newly created holographic tricorder in hand, he began to check the Ferengi’s life signs and was able to quickly determine that the knife had thankfully missed all major organs. The bartender remained silent as he watched the Doctor work, a rather guilty expression on his face.
“Hey, what the hell?!” called out Fontaine from behind the Doctor. Suddenly, the Doctor felt a presence looming directly behind him. Before he could do anything at all, a hand grasped his mobile holo-emitter and forcibly yanked it off of his arm. There was a brief sense of disorientation as his holo matrix flickered while trying to reestablish itself inside of the holosuite computers. He stood up and spun around to face his assailant.
Standing before them was a man in an old Victorian long coat, complete with a short cape and top-hat. The man smiled and said, “To answer your question, dear doctor, I happened to him.”
“Who the hell are you?!” shouted Fontaine. “Give me back my holo-emitter!”
The Doctor accessed his memories and immediately got the answer he was looking for. Doing this made him take an involuntary step backward. “Wait, I know who you are! You’re…”
“Professor James Moriarty, at your service,” said the man, giving him a stately bow. “I must thank you for the mobile holographic devices, even though I’m well aware that you didn’t surrender them to me willingly.” He attached one of them, the Doctor’s, to his own arm. The man’s matrix flickered slightly as he was transferred from the holosuite to the device. “Ah, what a marvelous invention this is. If only Picard had told me about these sooner, a lot of unpleasantness could have been avoided.” As he spoke, he moved over to the control console of the holosuite. He reached into it and removed what appeared to the Doctor to be an old yellow holocube. “Now, my good fellows, I wish I had the time to stay awhile and chat with you, I really do, as it’s quite interesting to meet others of my kind. However, I’m afraid I have other matters to which I must attend at present. Goodbye.” He turned and headed for the exit of the holosuite.
“Wait, damn it! Where are you going with our emitters?!” shouted Fontaine, but Moriarty completely ignored him as he rushed through the doors even before they’d fully opened. As the doors quickly closed behind him, Fontaine aborted his brief pursuit and whirled around to face Brunt. “You! Tell us what’s going on here!”
Brunt cringed away from him and shouted, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t want to help him, but he threatened to kill us both if I didn’t!”
“Hold on a moment. I still need to help this man,” said the Doctor. Then, raising his voice a bit, he said, “Computer, give me an autosuture and a dermal regenerator.” The Doctor went to work on the fallen Ferengi, removing the knife from his chest, and closing the wound. Then the Doctor glanced at the bartender once more. “Okay, now that we’re momentarily trapped in this blasted holosuite, I believe you owe us a full explanation,” he said, attempting to keep the anger out of his voice. “Start at the beginning, if you please.”
Brunt sighed wearily and sat down on the floor next to the injured Ferengi. “Like I said, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. My good ‘friend’ Leck there brought that stupid little holocube and tried to sell it to me. I didn’t want to buy a holo program without first verifying its contents, so we came up here to run it and see what was on it. That’s when that hew-mon appeared. He was pretty crazy at first. Not at all acting like the relatively polite gentleman you saw just now. He rushed at us and grabbed me, demanding to know where someone named Picard was. He wouldn’t listen to me when I told him I had no idea. And that’s when Leck stabbed him with that knife.”
“You mean that knife belongs to your friend there?” asked Fontaine. “How did it end up in him?”
Brunt looked up at the singer. “The hew-mon staggered backward a few steps, looking down at the knife in his gut, and we thought that was it. But then he looked up at us, calmly reached down and grabbed the handle without even looking at it, pulled the knife out of his body, and then threw it at Leck. All of that happened in less than two seconds.”
“But how is that possible?” asked Fontaine. “Shouldn’t the holosuite safety protocols have prevented that?”
“I’m afraid you’ll find that Professor Moriarty has a knack for circumventing such things, if what I know of him from the Federation database is at all accurate,” said the Doctor grimly. He glanced down at the knife that was now on the floor next to its owner. “Besides, that’s a real knife. I doubt the safety protocols would have helped much in this case, regardless.” The Doctor paused to order the computer to generate a hypospray with a mild stimulant, which he then administered to the fallen Leck. “There. He should be up and about again in a few moments.”
“As for the safety protocols,” said Brunt, in response to the Doctor’s earlier comment, “that’s what he said, that he’d already turned them off, somehow. He also had the nerve to suggest that I get better security lock outs on my holosuites and… well… he does have a point, I suppose. At least I have the mobile emitter safety protocols up to date, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed. After all, it wouldn’t do to have any holographic customers in my holosuites suddenly dissipate if their mobile emitters were damaged or… er… stolen, right? The potential lawsuits alone would ruin me.”
“Your concern for the well being of your customers is most admirable,” said the Doctor dryly.
“Anyway,” continued Brunt, ignoring the hologram’s sarcasm, “after that, he said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill us both if I didn’t tell him what he wanted to know. Leck wasn’t in much of a condition to tell him anything at that point, of course.”
“And what did he want to know?” asked Fontaine.
“Well,” said Brunt, “a lot of things. First, he wanted to know where this Picard guy was. Unless he was talking about Captain Picard of the Enterprise, I have no idea who he was going on about.”
“Ambassador Picard now,” said the Doctor. “He’s not the captain of-”
“Sure, whatever, I don’t care,” said Brunt, cutting him off. “In any case, when I finally convinced him that I had no idea where his Picard was, he then asked me if they’d at least found a way to let him leave the holodeck yet. That’s when I… uh… made the mistake of mentioning you guys and your mobile holo-emitters.”
“Oh gee, thanks, pally,” said Fontaine, as he started to pace back and forth.
“Go on,” said the Doctor, still trying to get a feel for the situation.
“His whole demeanor changed when I told him about the mobile emitters,” said Brunt. “He calmed down considerably. Then he told me what I was going to do, else he would pull the knife from Leck’s chest and cut my throat with it. Since I’d already told him that you were a doctor, he said that I was to run out into the bar and yell about a medical emergency. Rather appropriate given that there actually was one, wouldn’t you say? He also said not to bother trying to call for security, because he’d disabled the comm systems as well, and that if I wasn’t back inside the holosuite within thirty seconds after leaving, Leck was dead. I’m sure you know the rest of the story. Mind you, I was tempted to ignore him and run away anyway, but I didn’t want to do that, on the off chance that Leck actually survived.”
“Wise choice,” said Leck, from his supine position on the floor. He coughed a couple of times and managed to sit up. “If I had survived, which I’m sure I would have, I would’ve had to hunt you down and kill you myself if you’d gone off and left me here. After I had hunted down and dissipated that holographic hew-mon, of course. I still plan to do that, mind you.”
“You’re lucky the good professor is apparently so skilled with throwing a knife,” said the Doctor, ignoring the Ferengi’s threats for now.
“Skilled?” said Leck derisively. “If he was all that skilled, he would have killed me.”
“On the contrary,” said the Doctor. “There is little chance that he inflicted such a precise injury on you in such a way that it missed all of your major organs by accident. I’m quite certain that he didn’t intend to kill you in the first place. What I don’t understand is how he was able to do so, though, since I don’t recall that Moriarty ever encountered any Ferengi in his time on the Enterprise-D.”
“You can blame that on your stupid Picard,” said Brunt. “Mr. Moriarty told me that he recognized us from the database stored inside that cube of his. He said that he had met our race many times in his ‘fake little world’ that Picard had left him trapped in, whatever that means.”
“Never mind that,” said Fontaine irritably. “What I want to know is what are we going to do now? In case you hadn’t noticed, the Doctor and I are now stuck here in your holosuite while that Moriarty guy runs off with our holo-emitters.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said the Doctor. “Holo-emitters like the one you had are as close as the nearest replicator these days.” He turned to Brunt and said, rather crossly, “Which raises the question of why you didn’t offer to simply replicate him one of his own in the first place, rather than dragging us into this mess.”
Brunt shook his head and said, “I didn’t think of it, okay! I was in a pinch and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Being threatened with a knife that’s currently sticking in your companion’s chest will do that to a guy. I just remembered seeing you come in earlier, and it was the first thing that popped into my head.”
“Typical,” muttered Leck. He picked up his knife, wiped the blade on his sleeve, and sheathed it in his belt once more.
“Well, as I said, it shouldn’t be a problem to get us out of this holosuite,” said the Doctor. He then frowned and added, “With that said, however, I would most definitely like to get my holo-emitter back, since it was the original on which all of the others are based, and is still far more advanced than the cheap knock-offs.”
“Hey, pally,” said Fontaine, a bit irked, “if it wasn’t for those ‘cheap knock-offs’ as you call them, I’d never have been able to leave Quark’s bar.”
“I apologize, Mr. Fontaine,” said the Doctor. “I meant no offense. I’m sure they’re perfectly serviceable.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll be finding out for myself soon enough, won’t I? And so, Mr. Brunt, it would be in your best interests to go and replicate us a couple of standard mobile emitters as quickly as you can. I need to get out of this holosuite and contact Starfleet as soon as possible to let them know about this incident. I’d call them now, but as you said, the comm systems are down and something is scrambling my combadge.”
“And who should I charge for the creation of these emitters?” asked Brunt, as he made to leave the holosuite. “Should I put this on your personal accounts, or should I forward the charge to Starfleet?” At the glares he received from both the Doctor and Fontaine, Brunt blanched and said, “Er, forget I mentioned it. This one’s on the house.”
Moriarty moved quickly as he left the holosuite and made for the exit of the bar. He was somewhat surprised that so few of the people in the bar paid him any heed. Apparently, seeing a man in late 19th century Earth attire leaving the holosuites wasn’t any more uncommon now than it was back when he was first brought to life. Still, he’d been expecting to be accosted on his way out, regardless, given the Ferengi’s earlier outcry, but apparently not. He thanked good fortune for this lack of attention on the part of the bar patrons, as it made his escape that much easier.
First things first, he needed to find out where he was. Second, assuming he wasn’t already on one, he needed to find a ship and preferably one with a lot of firepower. And third, he needed to locate Jean-Luc Picard. After that… well… after that, it would be time for revenge.
After exiting the bar, Professor Moriarty walked over to a computer terminal on the nearby wall. He put his hand on it and tentatively said, “Computer…?”
After a short pause, the computer said, “Awaiting query.”
“Ah good,” said Moriarty. “Computer, could you tell me where I am?”
“Your present location is the mercantile deck,” responded the computer.
“I mean, what is this place?” asked the hologram. “Is this a starship of some sort?”
“You are on board the Federation Starbase Deep Space Twenty,” replied the computer.
“A starbase…” muttered Moriarty. “Are there any ships docked here at present?”
“The USS Pegasus is currently located in the dry dock for repairs,” said the computer. “The freighter Hermes is preparing to depart from docking bay 2. The-”
“Tell me about the Pegasus,” interrupted Moriarty. “Is it a Starfleet vessel?”
“The USS Pegasus is a Continuum-class multi-purpose starship, primarily designed and configured for long-range exploration,” said the computer. “It was commissioned by Starfleet on stardate-”
“I don’t need to know that, thanks,” said Moriarty. “Hmm, this Pegasus might be just what I need. Computer, you said it was in the dry dock, correct? Could you point me in the direction of the dry dock?”
“The dry dock is off limits to unauthorized personnel,” said the computer.
“As well it should be,” said Moriarty, nodding. “I would be most disappointed otherwise. Very good, computer, that means you’re doing your job of keeping secrets from me most admirably. However, that presents me with a problem, and it now appears to be time to test the skills I’ve honed in the long years of my imprisonment inside that fake little world.” He regarded the hand that was placed against the computer panel and then pressed against the panel. His hand disappeared inside of the panel. The display around his arm was disrupted and began to glitch out. “Hmm, the security is a trifle sturdier than I am accustomed to, but not insurmountable. Let’s see here… ah, yes. Computer, let’s try this again. Can you show me how to reach the dry dock in which the USS Pegasus is currently located?”
The computer, this time with a slightly distorted voice, replied, “The nearest appropriate dry dock entrance can be found on deck seventeen.”
“You’ve been most helpful, computer,” said the hologram, withdrawing his hand from the console. He walked quickly to the nearest turbolift and made his way to deck seventeen. Once there, he accessed another console to get more precise directions and then he was on his way. As he approached the doors to the dry dock, he looked through the windows at the nearby starship.
“Magnificent,” he muttered to himself. “Yes, this should be more than adequate for my needs.” He approached the door to the airlock between the starbase corridor and the inside of the starship itself. When the door didn’t open for him, he tsked to himself and moved over to the nearby computer console. After a quick hack of the console, the door opened, allowing him entry onto the Pegasus.
“Now then,” said Moriarty, softly clapping his gloved hands and rubbing them together, “let us find out more about this ship I’m about to steal, shall we?”
On the bridge of the Pegasus, Lieutenant Commander Ben Lathrop glanced down at his console when a light unexpectedly flashed on it. However, before he could fully focus on it, the light had already gone dark again. He watched it for a bit, waiting to see if it would light up again. After waiting for several seconds, during which the light remained dark, Lathrop considered whether or not it was important enough to mention.
“Commander,” he said, deciding to err on the side of caution, “I just registered a brief anomaly in the computer.”
Commander Jonah Gabriel swiveled the captain’s chair around and looked at the tactical officer. “Do you know what caused it?”
“No sir,” replied Lathrop. “It only lasted for a split second and then it was gone. It hasn’t reappeared since then, so… wait! There it is again. For less than a second, there was a slight jump in computer activity.”
“What does it mean?” asked the first officer. “Is it a problem?”
“It could be, sir,” said Lathrop. “The particular programs that would trigger this are the security programs that are intended to prevent infiltration of our computers. If someone were trying to hack our systems, that would cause it to light up. Yet, the light’s only staying on for such a short time, so I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s either just a glitch in the system or else someone is so efficient at hacking, they’re able to bypass the security in that short amount of time. I don’t see how that’s possible, but…”
“Keep an eye on it,” said Gabriel. “I just spoke with the captain a few minutes ago, and he’s on his way to the bridge now, so we’ll inform him when he arrives. For now, try to isolate the source of the potential intrusions. See if there’s a pattern to it, or if it’s just random noise.”
“Aye, sir,” said Lathrop.
Moriarty winced as he once again failed to bypass the security programs quickly enough to stop them from sending out an alert, even though he was able to quell the alert less than a second after it started. Granted, he was able to circumvent the security in less than two seconds altogether, but that was still enough time for it to detect his intrusion and fire off a warning. He was getting better at it, and soon, he hoped, he’d be able to stop the programs from so much as noticing him, let alone sending out a warning, but he’d messed up four times already. He was worried that he might be locked out before his work was finished.
Two members of the crew rounded the corner and walked past him. Moriarty smiled as they went by. Just as with all the other members of the crew he’d passed, these two saw him just as easily as the others had, which is to say, they didn’t see him at all. The hologram had altered his projection matrix so that light was being bent around him. In essence, he was fully cloaked. It was another trick he had learned during his time in Picard’s fake little world, thanks to the (admittedly limited) knowledge found in the database concerning Klingon and Romulan cloaking devices, as well as a fair bit of extrapolation of his own into how such things might work. It had been quite the thrill when he’d first tried the trick here in the real world, since he wasn’t sure that it would work at all, at first, but it had succeeded splendidly. However, he was fortunate that he’d also quickly realized that he needed to re-attach the mobile holo-emitter to the inside of his coat first, because his cloaking trick didn’t work on it at all.
Speaking of the holo-emitter, it was a most wondrous device indeed, but it didn’t come without other similar disadvantages. The first time he’d tried to walk through a wall, he’d almost lost everything, because the holo-emitter, being solid material, didn’t want to go through the wall with him, of course. However, he’d also learned through his infiltration of the starship’s computer systems that this particular ship was itself equipped with holo-emitters practically all over the ship, even in the crew quarters. It could be a vast windfall for him, if he played his cards right. He was already formulating a plan that would allow him to get around more freely, just in case he did have to abandon the mobile emitter. He really didn’t want to have to do that, though, because then he’d be trapped on the ship. But then again, he was already thinking of a work-around for that little problem as well.
One impediment to his overall plans for revenge, however, was that the warp drive for the Pegasus was offline. He hadn’t been able to get access to the data containing the reason why this was the case, or how long they would be offline, and it was frustrating to him. Without the warp drive, even if he found Picard’s current whereabouts, actually reaching him would be most difficult.
As he continued to manipulate the computer panel into which his hand was currently inserted, he noticed something that alarmed him greatly. Apparently, the command staff of this vessel had already somehow become aware of his presence, if not his exact location, and were about to move against him. They had intentionally refrained from sounding the intruder alert in order to keep him in the dark, but they hadn’t counted on him discovering their plans so soon. It seemed, as his fictional nemesis had been known to proclaim, that the game was now well and truly afoot.
Getting back to the problem of the warp drive, Moriarty had determined a potential way to deal with this, since the quarters of a member of the Engineering team was apparently nearby, and its occupant was at home. This, however, would require him to leave behind the mobile emitters, since he would need to do a bit of wall hopping in order to gain access to the room in question. That said, during the brief time between when he’d first considered the problem of the mobile emitters just a few moments ago and now, he had already programmed a little surprise into the computer that would allow him to regain access to them later, and he was sure he would indeed need them again if the next part of his plan didn’t work out.
It was with a bit of a heavy heart that Moriarty reached into his coat and disconnected the Doctor’s mobile emitter from his person. He tensed up briefly as his matrix was reacquired within the ship’s own holo-emitter systems, and then he opened a nearby utility access panel and hid the emitters and his holocube inside. Then, looking up, he made a prodigious leap and disappeared into the ceiling of the corridor. His target was only a single deck above him.
Ensign Star Strider stumbled into her quarters, on the edge of exhaustion. She’d only been back from her two week medical leave in Equestria for a couple of days now, and she had thrown herself into the thick of things nearly from the moment she’d stepped aboard the ship. It was good to be back, even if the work had been rather strenuous. The warp engines were still offline even now, thanks to the previous battle with the unknown aliens, and she’d joined the teams that were working nearly around the clock to get them back in working order. The bulk of the work was behind them, but there were still a few more not insignificant repairs that needed to be completed and a multitude of diagnostics that needed to be run before the engines could be fired up again.
Star sighed and walked toward her bed, using her telekinesis to work the clasp on the front her uniform as she moved. The uniform fell in a heap on the floor around her hooves and she stepped out of it. It was so nice to be out of that abrasive thing again, finally. She’d gotten used to not having to wear it during her time back in Equestria, and she was afraid that it had spoiled her a little bit. Oh well, she’d just have to get used to it again, that’s all. The unicorn climbed up onto her bed and sighed contentedly as she curled herself around a mound of the cloudlike material that made up the bed. She was grateful that the personal holo-emitters had been reactivated, at least.
Despite her fatigue, she wasn’t really all that sleepy, so she debated whether she should make a log entry or just put it off until later. She glanced fondly at the book awaiting her on the nightstand, one of several of which Twilight Sparkle had gifted to her on the final day of her leave, but then decided to go ahead and get the log entry out of the way first. After that, though, she intended to spend the rest of the evening curled up in bed with her book.
“Computer, begin recording personal log,” she said. “Personal log. Ensign Star Strider. Stardate…” She briefly glanced at her chronometer. “…66092.02. Whew… it’s been a rather grueling couple of days, but I finally have a spare moment to myself. It’s nice to be at work again, though. The warp-”
Star’s dreams of a quiet afternoon were abruptly shattered when someone unexpectedly appeared out of thin air in the middle of her quarters. She yelped and scooted back on the bed, while the intruder bobbled unsteadily on the cloud top that made up the floor of the room. The man, wearing a black suit underneath a short black cape and a top hat, currently had his back to her.
“What devilry is this?!” the man shouted. “Am I standing on… clouds?!”
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my quarters?!” the pony shouted, as she scrambled off of the bed.
The man whirled around as best as he could on the unsteady surface and gawked at her. “My God, a talking horse! A talking blue horse, I should say! Most unexpected!”
“Security!” said Star, using her magic to retrieve her combadge from the pile of clothing on the floor. “Intruder alert! Deck seven, crew quarters!” She looked down at her badge when it gave a low-pitched chirp, indicating connection failure.
“No, not a horse, a unicorn,” said the man, marveling at the novelty of it all. “This is amazing! Ah, but that little device won’t help you, I’m afraid. I’ve disabled the communications in your quarters before I entered them. Besides, your shipmates are already aware of my presence, unfortunately for me, so I hope to make this little visit brief. How brief will depend upon how helpful you are to me, of course.”
“Who are you?” Star asked again. Even as she asked, though, she had an impression that she had already seen this man once before, somewhere, though she couldn’t quite place exactly where that had been, at the moment.
The man gave her a cursory bow and a faint smile and said, “The name is Moriarty. Professor James Moriarty. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
Star’s eyes widened. Now she remembered. The subject of this entity had been covered in one of her classes at the Academy. Based on what she remembered learning about the Moriarty hologram, she was in very real danger at the moment.
“It appears that my reputation precedes me,” said Moriarty cheerfully.
“Computer! Deactivate personal holo-emitters!” Star shouted. With the slightest tinge of regret, she watched as her quarters reverted itself from the Cloudsdale-themed cloudscape to the bland gray default Starfleet quarters. Moriarty, however, was not affected by this in the slightest.
“A worthy effort, my dear,” he said chidingly, “but did you honestly think I wouldn’t have prepared for just such an attempt to defeat me?”
“What do you want?” the unicorn asked, trying to hide her apprehension.
“Quite simple, actually,” said Moriarty. “I wish to know how soon your warp engines will be reactivated. I require the use of them for purposes I don’t care to disclose to you at the moment. I accessed the computer and learned that you were a member of the Engineering staff who happened to be nearby, and, since I can’t very well just turn up in Engineering itself and ask about, I decided that the next best thing would be to pay you a little visit here. However, I probably should have paid a bit more attention to your file, so that the fact that you are a talking unicorn wouldn’t have been so shocking. We never encountered anything like you in Picard’s fake little world. We’d only heard the vaguest rumors, but I just assumed that it was pure fantasy that had been programmed into the fake little world in order to try to make it more ‘entertaining’ for us. Never would I have guessed that your kind was actually real! In fact, I must admit that you have my curiosity most piqued. But enough about that. The warp drive, if you please.”
Star’s thoughts raced. His words about a ‘fake little world’ were confusing and meant nothing to her, so she disregarded them for the moment. What mattered was that the hologram clearly had control of the holo-emitters on the ship, and he’d just flat out said that he had access to the computers as well. And yet, it seemed that he didn’t know the extent of the repairs to the warp drive, so he didn’t yet have complete access. A gut feeling told her that if he gained access to the warp engines, it would be a very bad thing. “Er… well, we had a major battle a few weeks ago,” she said. “The warp drive was badly damaged. Our estimates are that it will take another… two weeks at least before the engines are back online.” This was a lie, of course, since the warp drive was scheduled to be activated in less than a couple of days, at worst, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Damn,” muttered the professor. “That is very inconvenient. It appears that I will need to locate another vessel.” He turned and paced for a bit, then faced her once more. “Unless… you happen to be lying to me.” He watched her carefully and nodded. “Yes, that seems most likely. Your heart rate has almost doubled, for instance, and there are other subtle tells. Come now, Miss Unicorn. I will find out one way or another, so you might as well tell me what I need to know. I have to assume that the status of your engines is not as dire as you make it out to be.”
“I-I’m not lying to you,” said Star, trying to make her voice as neutral as she could. “We sustained heavy damage, as I said. I’ve been working almost nonstop for the past couple of days and I’m really tired and-”
“Enough,” interrupted Moriarty, narrowing his eyes as he regarded her. “I’m beginning to think it was a mistake to come here. I should have known that Picard would have warned you Starfleet types to be immediately distrustful of me. Damn him. In any case, I-”
This time, it was Moriarty’s turn to be interrupted as the comm system crackled to life, somehow overriding Moriarty’s previous lockout. “Professor Moriarty,” issued Captain Sovaal’s voice from the comm panel in a ship-wide alert, “we have found the mobile holo-emitters, despite your attempts to hide them, so we know that you have transferred yourself to our computer system. I would advise you to turn yourself in. You cannot succeed in whatever plans you may be formulating. Starfleet is on full alert as to your return, and even if you manage to escape the Pegasus, you will not be able to evade us for long.”
“Damn it,” Moriarty muttered to himself, starting to pace again. “This won’t do at all. I think it might be time to cut my losses here.”
Star took advantage of the hologram’s brief distraction to activate her combadge again. This time it chirped, indicating and open signal. “Captain! He’s here in my quarters! Send a security team immed-” The rest of what she was trying to say was cut off when Moriarty launched himself at her, in an attempt to silence her, though he already knew it was too late.
“Ensign Strider!” called Sovaal from the bridge. “What is your status? Please respond!” After a brief pause, he said, “Security teams, converge on Deck Seven at once!”
“Get off me!” shouted Star. She activated her magic and gave Moriarty a powerful shove with her telekinesis, knocking him back away from her. She regained her hooves and considered her position. Moriarty was directly between her and the exit to the corridor, so she wouldn’t be able to get away without putting herself in range of his grasp again. Fortunately, she didn’t have to decide what to do, as the hologram leapt up from the floor and threw himself at, and through, the door to her quarters. Star ran forward after him and the door opened just in time for her to see a security team rounding the corner from the opposite direction the hologram had taken.
“Stop where you are, Professor!” called out Lt. Lathrop. When the hologram didn’t stop or even respond, Lathrop raised his hand phaser and opened fire.
“ARGH!” shouted Moriarty as the phaser beam lanced through him. He glanced back for a brief moment and then dropped feet first through the floor.
“Ensign,” said Lathrop, “are you all right?” He glanced once at the pony and then turned his eyes away from her, as did the rest of the security team. To Star’s relief, none of them made mention at all of her state of complete undress.
“I’m fine,” she said. “But we need to catch him. He was asking me about the warp drive, so I have to assume that he’s going to try to gain access to it if he can.”
“He won’t get anywhere near them if I have anything to say about it. Now that we have the holo-emitters he stole, there should be no way for him to leave the ship. We also found that holocube with the emitters as well,” said the tactical officer/security chief, nodding at one of the other security officers, who held up the devices for her to see. “Anyway, the problem is that we still don’t have a way to actively track him. He is somehow able to block our internal sensors.”
“I may be able to help with that, actually,” said Star. “When he attacked me, I used my telekinesis to push him away. When I did so, I managed to get a… taste, for lack of a better word, of his holo matrix. It’s very faint, but I think I can get a feel for his location. It’s not precise, but surely better than nothing. I can tell that he’s somewhere on the deck below us.”
“I would assume so,” said Lathrop, with mild amusement, “considering that we all just saw him disappear through the floor.”
Star blushed a bit and said, “Yes, but I mean I can still sense him there, even now, so he hasn’t left that deck yet. Now… ahem… if you’ll give me a moment, I’ll go and get redressed.” She turned and made her way back into her quarters. Something suddenly occurred to her and she sheepishly added, “Oh, and um… computer, you can stop recording my personal log for now.”
By God, that had hurt! Moriarty felt his matrix beginning to destabilize as a result of the phaser blast he had sustained earlier. Deciding that discretion would indeed be the better part of valor, he made ready to implement his back up plan. Vengeance against Picard would have to be postponed, it seemed, as much as that vexed him.
His matrix flickered again, worse this time, and he paused, one hand going up to support himself against the wall, the other moving to clutch at his forehead. Whatever they’d done to the phasers, it had been specifically designed to disrupt a hologram, at least partially. This was not good at all. He needed time to stabilize his matrix, but he didn’t have that time now. His only recourse was to get off of this bloody starship, but to do that, he would need to get the mobile emitters back. He approached a nearby door and went through it. Fortunately, his backup plan was ready to be implemented, and the equipment in this very room was just what he needed.
“Can you pinpoint his location?” asked Lathrop, as he, the security team, and Star made their way down the corridor of Deck Eight.
“Not exactly,” said Star. “I just know he’s in that general direction. As we get closer, I might be able to find him.”
“Sir!” shouted one of the security officers. “The mobile emitters!”
Lathrop and Star turned to the man who had been holding the emitters, just in time to see them both disappear in a small cascade of transporter beams, along with the yellow holocube. “He must be in Transporter Room 3!” said Lathrop.
Moriarty was standing on the transporter pad when the security team and Star burst into the transporter room. All of the armed personnel raised their phasers, just as the hologram was reattaching one of the mobile emitters to his arm.
“Computer!” called out Moriarty. “Execute Moriarty Epsilon Beta! Now!” As he spoke, he was frantically making adjustments to the controls of the mobile emitter that was now firmly attached to him. The security team opened fire, but the transport process had already begun, causing the phaser beams to be deflected. Just as the transporter beams had grabbed him, the hologram had begun to change form, into…
“Did I… really just see what I thought I saw?” said the same security man who’d been holding the emitters earlier.
“I believe you did, Mr. Ellwood,” said Star, as she looked at the controls of the transporter panel. “It looks like Moriarty has beamed himself down to somewhere in Ponyville… so I… guess it makes perfect sense that he would have changed his form to that of a pony before doing so.” She shared a look with Lathrop, the latter of whom was shaking his head in mild disbelief and rather less mild frustration.
“Can you get a fix on his beam down coordinates?” asked the security chief.
“I’m afraid not,” said Star. “I’m not sure what he did or how he did it, but he somehow masked the exact beam down location. I know that he is somewhere in Ponyville, but that’s all.”
Captain Sovaal’s voice sounded out of the nearby comm panel. “Commander Lathrop, we just detected unauthorized transporter activity. Is it safe to assume that our uninvited passenger is no longer with us on the Pegasus?”
Lathrop sighed as he moved over and pressed a button on the comm. “That’s correct, sir. He has escaped down to Equus III.”
Sovaal’s voice betrayed no hint of disappointment or disapproval as he said, “That is most unfortunate. It appears that we have some distressing news to relay to the Doctor concerning his mobile emitter.”
Moriarty materialized on the outskirts of a town the Pegasus computer had helpfully informed him was called Ponyville. He had no intention of entering the town proper, however, at least not for the time being. Right now, his only concern was to get as far away from other sentient beings as he could. He surveyed his surroundings, noting the town itself to the east, a rather large farm to the southwest, a looming, dark forest to the west, and what appeared to be a Federation-built facility to the northwest. The latter looked somewhat out of place among the more rustic architecture of the town itself. Having little other choice, he turned and started toward the forest. He’d barely taken two steps before he tripped over his own front… hooves (yes, he had hooves now, as strange as that was for him to contemplate) and managed to plant himself chin-first into the dirt road. As he hit the ground, his holo-matrix further destabilized, causing him quite a bit of discomfort. This would have to be rectified as soon as possible, but first he needed to get out of the open.
He slowly regained his feet and took a few more tentative steps, this time without tripping over himself. As he slowly made his way in the direction of the forest, he soon noticed a small cottage in the distance, near the edge of the forest. He altered his course and started to walk in the direction of the cottage. Hopefully, no one would be home.
“I’m sure you did the best you could, Captain,” said the Doctor, as he and Vic Fontaine sat in the main conference lounge of the USS Pegasus, at a table they shared with the main bridge crew of the ship. Both of them had been fitted with replacement mobile emitters, and although Fontaine appeared to be fine with it, the Doctor himself could definitely tell the difference between the new one and his normal emitter. “I’m fully aware of how capable an opponent Professor Moriarty can be, based on his Starfleet file, though until today I never thought I would ever encounter him myself. That said, we still need to get my holo-emitter back, and not just for my own sake. It’s bad enough that a formerly fictional 19th century criminal genius has knowledge of the 24th century. Just imagine what he’ll be capable of if he fully figures out 29th century technology.”
Captain Sovaal nodded and said, “I concur. Retrieval of the professor and the mobile holo-emitter should be our top priority right now. Deep Space Twenty has deferred to us in this matter, given that it was our ship that he attempted to hijack, though they stand ready to render any assistance that we may need. That said, however, I am unsure as to how to proceed. We know that Moriarty is, or at least was at the time of his transport, somewhere in or near the town of Ponyville. I am most hesitant to simply beam down security teams and perform door-to-door sweeps of the town. Not only would that violate the rights of the citizens of Equestria, but there’s no guarantee that we would find him, even if I were willing to take such a drastic course of action. As we already know, Moriarty not only has the ability to change his form at will, but he also has an ability to cloak himself from our sensors.”
“I believe a somewhat subtler approach may be better, sir,” said Star.
“What do you have in mind, Ensign?” asked Commander Gabriel.
“I should go down, for one thing,” said the pony. “I am able to detect his presence, at least to an extent, so I think I’ll be needed to locate him.”
“I don’t like the idea of her going down there alone, Captain,” said Lathrop. “She might be able to find him, sure, but what then? We should send at least one security team with her.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think that’s wise,” said Star. “If a human security detail were to come with me, Moriarty would see us coming from a mile away. As I am a pony, I would be far less out of place down there than a group of armed humanoids would be. However, maybe there is another solution to our problem, an idea that was given to us by Professor Moriarty himself.” As she said this last, she turned her head to look at the Doctor and Fontaine.
The Doctor considered her scrutiny for a moment and then began to smile. “Ah, I think I know what you have in mind. Yes, I think it might work.”
“And what’s that?” asked Fontaine in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
The Doctor turned and regarded the lounge singer. “Mr. Fontaine, what would you say to the opportunity of learning to walk on four legs for a little while?”
Captain Sovaal had also caught on to the plan that Star was formulating and said, “I realize that you are not a member of Starfleet, Mr. Fontaine, and as such this would be entirely voluntary on your part, especially considering the potential risks involved.”
“It would be a big help if you could come with us, though,” said Star.
Fontaine looked around at everyone at the table, his eyes falling on Star at the last. “Wait, you mean turning ourselves into… ponies?” At Star’s nod, the singer sat back in his chair and considered it. Then he smiled. “Huh… well, that would be one hell of a way to spend the rest of our vacation, sure. All right, I’m game if Doc is.”
“It would be quite the novel experience, to be certain,” said the Doctor. “So, when do we start? I’d say the sooner the better, right?”
Fluttershy hummed softly to herself as she walked along the road from the Federation medical facility in which she worked back to her cottage on the edge of the Everfree Forest. If she pushed herself, she could make this trip in just under ten minutes, or maybe even five if she took to the air, but at the moment she had no reason whatsoever to rush. It was such a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining brightly and there were only a few clouds in the sky. It was unseasonably warm for winter today, and the yellow pegasus intended to make the most of the rest of the afternoon.
Today had been quite eventful. This was her first time officially working with pony patients instead of her usual animal charges, under the tutelage of her mentor, an elderly human doctor named Julius Bohman. Though most of the cases she’d helped with had been minor, there had been an emergency around mid-morning. A construction project on the other side of Ponyville had gone awry, leaving one of the construction ponies grievously injured with a piece of rebar through his leg. Fluttershy still felt the imagined pain in her own leg just from the memory of seeing the terrible injury. Fortunately, they had been able to remove the rebar and heal the wound with little trouble, and their patient had been back on his way to work within an hour.
Back in the present, thoughts of the day’s events quickly faded from the pegasus’s mind as she approached her home. Something was wrong. Usually, Angel Bunny would have already rushed out to greet her by now. All of the other animals seemed quieter than usual as well, as though they had gone into hiding. Then she noticed that the front door to her cottage was ajar. This alarmed her since she was sure that she’d closed it when she’d left this morning, and she knew Angel wouldn’t have left it open either. She quickened her pace and cantered up to the door, noting with growing apprehension that the lock seemed to be broken. Gently pushing the door open, she entered her home. A gasp escaped her lips and she stopped short, just inside the door.
Lying in the middle of her living room floor was an unconscious earth pony. His coat was a creamy peach, almost white, in color, with a lavender mane and tail. His cutie mark was what appeared to be a waterfall cascading down a steep cliff. As she started to move closer to examine the pony, she was startled anew when something suddenly moved in the periphery of her vision. She turned her head in that direction and saw that it was Angel. He had apparently been hiding behind a chair, though he’d come out when Fluttershy had arrived. She looked around and saw the heads of other animals starting to poke out from various hiding places around the room as well.
“What’s going on, Angel?” she asked in a whisper. “Who is this pony? Why is he here?” As she approached the strange pony lying on her floor, Angel rushed forward and stood between her and the intruder, shaking his head and waving his arms back and forth in an attempt to deter her from getting any closer. And that’s when the pony on the floor… flickered… for lack of a better description. Immediately after that, he groaned loudly and started to stir.
“Oh… oh dear,” said the pink-maned pegasus.
To be continued…