Deeds Worthy of Song

Posted on Tue Apr 20th, 2021 @ 7:22pm by Lieutenant Mila Lynn & Captain Freya Mannerheim & Major Ashley Rogers & Lieutenant T'Ango & Gunnar Arnason & Sublieutenant Renee Hernandez

5,046 words; about a 25 minute read

Mission: Chapter IV: Unravelling the Mystery
Location: Mess Hall, Ourainavassa
Timeline: 238702.16

Finally, things had quieted down in the mess hall. Raven and Ellie had gone to talk things out in private, and everyone had taken seats and placed their orders for food. In their strange newfound friendship, Mila had invited Captain Mannerheim to join her, and had asked T'Ango to do the same. She had gone behind the bar, and come back with a bottle of ice mead, much to the Captain's appreciation, and four glasses - one for herself, one for the Captain, and one each for T'Ango and Renee.

"Thank you," Freya said with a genuine smile as she took a sip from the glass Mila had offered her. She had taken off her uniform jacket and hung it from the back of her chair, knowing full well that the formal part of the visit was over. "It's been a while since I got to taste this. Last time would have been, what, before I transferred off the Poseidon and joined the Section? So, six or seven years ago? And before you question any years, 'now' for me is the year 2400. The year I took command of the Amelia and was sent on this wild goose chase through time and dimensions." She shook her head. "Messes with your head, time travel does. When you wake up in the morning and aren't sure what year it is, you begin to question your own sanity."

The Captain looked around. "I have to say, Commander Rogers wasn't exaggerating when she said this was a ship full of characters. I have never seen anything like it. But it seems that, somehow, you all make it work, even with all your petty personal squabbles."

Mila nodded. "It's not a crew, it's a family. Families have their issues, but they stick together. This one definitely does. Both, that is. But none of us have any issue with telling the boss when we have issues with her ideas."

Freya laughed. "Yeah, doing that on a Terran ship will see you locked in an agoniser booth for a few weeks, if you are lucky enough to survive pissing your CO off like that. I spent far too much time in one of those during my time at the Academy, thanks to my simple existence pissing off a Commodore. Paladin, his name was. Complete pain in the ass. His counterpart over here was nice, though."

"I'm sure Commander Rogers has spent more than her fair share of time in an agonizer booth, considering how much of a pain in the ass both her and her counterpart here are," Renee said joining the conversation.

The Captain shrugged. "Not on my ship she hasn't, at least. But that's mostly because I avoid using them as much as possible. They call me soft, but I prefer to lead through trust, not fear. Of course, there are some transgressions where it remains my only option, but those, luckily, are rare."

"Being stuck in a booth would be the torture, pain or no, at least for my people," T'Ango said, thinking that Rogers might prefer the agonizer to the torture of seeing Renee with either the slutty mind thief or the other Rogers. "We find physical pain more acceptable than isolation."

"Isolation messes with people," Renee agreed. "The Ash of this universe is a product of a lot of that... but I think she would agree, torture might be more amenable. And to be honest, I don't disagree."

"The way the agonisers work, they send a signal directly through your pain receptors into your nerves. So it is difficult to build up tolerance to the pain." Freya shook her head. "Of course, they aren't stupid. They will only leave a prisoner in an agoniser for a certain period of time, under medical supervision. And then they will take them out, throw them in a cell with bread and water, and leave them to wither away until it's time for the next session. It's utterly barbaric."

"Yes," T'Ango agreed, suppressing a cringe. She was grateful Gunnar hadn't joined them yet. Thrown in mind games and it was too close to what still sometimes woke him with night terrors.

As if on cue, the mess hall door opened, though there was a pause as two Arnasons said "After you." then stood there waiting for the other to go.

"Oh, good grief." Gable pushed her Gunnar through the door and then swept a hand at the other one in a gesture of 'now you'. She looked back at the Ashes as she followed. "When you get a chance teach them whatever you two figured out."

"We flipped a coin," the Rogerses said in unison.

Freya looked over at the two Arnasons and shook her head. "Oh, that will be fun," she said, with a chuckle.

Mila laughed. "Let's just hope that Rogers and Arnason are the only two duplicates you have on your crew!"

The Captain looked her in the eye. "I mean, I could probably arrange for Lieutenant Commander Mila Lynn to join us, she's chief science officer on the I.S.S. Discovery. She isn't quite as remarkable as you are, though, she wasn't genetically engineered."

The young scientist grinned. "So, you are saying I am unique? Good to know." She beckoned to the new arrivals. "Come, join us. We have drink, we have food on the way, and just having a very interesting conversation about the differences between our universes."

Major Rogers put a supportive arm around Mila in a half hug, "You're definitely uniquely amazing, kiddo."

The Commander looked over at Renee, "So, how'd everyone like the stew?"

Renee looked at the Terran and sighed, "You're going to have a lot of leftovers..."

"I'm what? What's wrong with the stew?" Commander Rogers asked confused.

Other than your involvement in making it? Lt Arnason didn't say it. Instead he looked at the other plates and smiled. "Fresh fish - and prepared beautifully."

Gunnar smiled too and clasped T'Ango's shoulder in greeting. "I hope you didn't eat all of it."

"Of course not. I asked Renee to save some for you." She responded, patting the seat beside her, then hesitated looking between the two Gunnars. She knew which one was hers, but the other one looked so much like when they first met... "Um, I guess I should have asked her to save two portions?"

"Is that the fish we brought back from Cera?" Major Rogers asked Renee cautiously. She didn't want to overstep and cause a scene. Lately, it just seemed as if no matter what she did, it was the wrong thing.

Renee nodded, "It is. And I think if you can get us some more, the crew would be very grateful."

The Major finally took the breath she was holding, "I think I can arrange that. Look... I don't want things to be awkward between us... I'm sorry. You're your own person and I... I need to stop acting like an asshole."

Renee nodded again, "I won't disagree. Because ever since I came on board, that's exactly how you've been acting. I get it. It's weird between us. I know that. I feel that too. But we are both adults and we need to act like it."

Ash nodded, "I will. But I still don't like my Terran counterpart."

"You're not the only one," Renee chuckled. "You want some stew?"

"I'll take your fish if you do," The Terran Arnason suggested hopefully, trying not to look as amused by the situation as he actually was.

"What's wrong with the stew?" the Major asked confusedly. "Sure... I'll take some stew...."

A similar expression was on Gunnar's face and T'Ango's eyes were swiveling back and forth between them. It was uncanny. But they seemed to be avoiding looking directly at each other, which felt deliberate. Just the weirdness of an interdimensional twin, or something else? Once her Gunnar sat down beside her she leaned over, whispering "How do you feel about your counterpart?"

Gunnar glanced at the man, who was talking to Rogers but kept glancing at T'Ango. "Jury's still out."

The Commander walked over to the Major, "I see someone is eating the stew..."

Major Rogers looked at her counterpart, "Should I not be?"

The Commander held up her bowl, "It tastes fine to me..."

The two of them both ate their stew in unison, appreciating it's taste and both curious why no one else is having it. Was the fish really that good?

Terran Rogers finally spoke up, "Renee is quite the chef, it's her recipe, but I did help make the stew."

The Major stopped eating mid-spoonful and glared at Renee, who winked and smirked at her.

"Ah, fish!" Terran Arnason said, taking newly arrived plates. He politely passed one to his counterpart and raised his brows inquiringly toward T'Ango. "I don't believe we've been introduced, though obviously you know who I am."

She knows who you look like, which is not the same... Gunnar thought, but forced a smile. "Forgive me. May I present Lieutenant T'Ango of the Dosadi Imperial Marines." He looked at her fondly. "My partner in refugee aide."

"A pleasure to meet you." Lt Arnason reached down and clasped her shoulder.

T'Ango's eyes went wide. It was the Dosadi equivalent of shaking hands, but very few humans knew that - she remembered how much it had meant to her as a newly arrived exchange officer when her Gunnar had done that unprompted. This Gunnar looked so like him back then... But the Captain didn't seem to know a mirror version of her. Or chose not to say if she did. Thinking back the answer had been a little cagey. "How do you know that? Do you know a mirror me?"

The Terran shook his head. "Sadly, no. I merely read the report on some of the people here. I knew little about Dosadi, and thought it would be good to learn some basics. But once I started reading..." he shook his head slightly and smiled. "You are quite intriguing."

She reached up to return the gesture, then gave a short laugh as she settled back into her seat. "Ha! You hear that? I'm intriguing."

"I already knew that." Gunnar remarked, trying to keep his tone light. He'd rarely been jealous of any of Divash's other lovers, and yet this other self simply being nice to T'Ango was bothering him. Which was ridiculous. Dosadi were primarily demisexual after all.

Freya watched the exhanges with interest, when finally, a plate of fish was placed in front of her, too. "Now this looks phenomenal. Thank you, Miss Hernandez." She took a forkful and let the taste fill her mouth. "And it tastes just like home. Like my grandfather used to make."

Mila gave the Captain a warm smile. "You miss it a lot, don't you?"

Freya nodded. "I have not been back home since I joined Starfleet. I couldn't bear go back in this universe, and go through the awkwardness of meeting my counterpart's family. And since I returned to my universe, I just never had the time."

"Home means a lot, I never expected I'd see Cera again when we left. You will return to your home, one day. I am sure of it. And you will have your own saga told by the skalds."

"I would like to think that, Mila. I really would." Freya's voice had taken a sad note. "But until then, tastes of home are all I will have."

Lieutenant Lynn turned to the two Gunnars. "Speaking of sagas, wouldn't you feel we should have a nice night of storytelling some time?"

The conversation about homes made Major Rogers a bit more quiet... and as it turned out, her counterpart looked equally contemplative. If she actually cared about the Terran, she'd ask about it, but knowing her own story, perhaps it's not worth opening anyone's old wounds. She looked over at Renee, who was comfortable and interacting with everyone and was glad that she is living her life. She continued to eat her stew, it wasn't even that bad. But she'd never tell the Terran.

The Commander also quietly observed the conversation. Her counterpart was a fool for whatever happened between her and Renee and she could tell by the way she looked at the chef, that there's still unresolved feelings. It doesn't surprise her. Working as a Temporal Agent didn't really allow for relationships, she would never know if she would even wake up in the same universe any given day. "Our Gunnar is full of good stories," the Terran spoke up.

"Stories, yes. I don't chant sagas like a skald." He paused a beat and grinned. "At least not without a lot of alcohol."

"Ha!" T'ango bumped a shoulder against her Gunnar. "Obviously you're alike in more then looks."

"Well, that can easily be rectified," Freya said to 'her' Gunnar, handing him a glass of ice mead. "Skol!"

"Skol!" He replied, taking the glass and a healthy swallow. He held it in his mouth a moment, eyes closed to focus on the taste. "Thank you. That is wonderful." Then the look of a connoisseur, swapped to an almost boyish grin. "But I'll need several more of these to be drunk enough," he looked at the other Gunnar; he was curious if nothing else if their sagas were the same or if divergent histories had lead to changes in what was emphasized, or remembered, and how, "...at least for a solo act."

"Oh, yes - pass some over here," T'Ango said, waving for a glass for her Gunnar. He had a nice voice but it was all she could do to get him to even join in karaoke, but and while this wasn't singing, maybe if it would start loosening him up enough to get there. She beamed at him. At both of them, just for good measure. "When else am I ever going to get to hear you do a duet with yourself?"

Gunnar widened his eyes, silently pleading. He hated being put on the spot, especially for any kind of public performance.

"Please?" T'Ango wheedled, giving him Big Pleading Kitty Eyes.

"Helvitis," he muttered to himself, and held out a hand for the drink. "It's really not fair when you do that."

The Commander chuckled and nudged the Major with her elbow, "They're adorable, aren't they?"

Major Rogers nodded, "They are. I'm glad to call them friends."

The Terran put down her empty bowl, "You should loosen up, enjoy yourself. I don't know what the hell happened to you in this universe, but you have it great here."

The Major grumbled.

Freya nodded. "She's right, you know. Even the greatest Viking warriors were nothing without their brothers in arms. And you have a good crew here. I have only been here for a few hours, and I can already tell that you all have a deep bond. That is something to be celebrated."

Mila had gone to the bar, and returned with a tray of glasses, two bottles of ice mead, and three bottles of wine. "Well then, if we are going to have a party, we might as well make it a good one. Help yourselves, everyone."

When everyone had a glass, Freya stood from her chair, and raised her glass. "Today has been fascinating, to say the least. Thank you all for your kind welcome, and your hospitality. And thank you, Miss Hernandez, for the amazing food. I suggest we now engage in the most sacred of Norse traditions, and from what I hear, it exists in both our universes. We have all fought in great battles, and an even greater one lies ahead. So let us drink and be merry, for we do not know when we will have the chance again. And let us hope that, one day, the skalds will deem our deeds to be worthy of song. Skol!"

Renee smiled, "Cheers to that!"

Gunnar joined in the toast and enjoyed the fine mead, but his thought was ye gods, I hope not - there's hardly a saga that doesn't involve needless tragedy, unavoidable horrible fates, or endless grudges, vengeance, and loss...

Terran Ash raised her glass up, "Glory to the Empire, no matter what universe."

The Major lifted her's and just nodded politely.

The Terran Arnason raised his glass, echoing, "Glory to the Empire!"

This universe's Arnason did not. He was noticing the way that response seemed to have yanked T'Ango out of any illusion they were practically the same person. Though she looked over at him, as if to reassure herself he wouldn't join in that toast.

As their eyes met, T'Ango saw that confirmed; her Gunnar was polite and respectful toward other cultures, integrity mattered more. And suddenly she knew exactly what to do.

T'Ango smiled, and lifted her glass. "Stol t'het." Gunnar echoed the Dosadi toast in almost perfect unison, smiling back at her.

"Honor above all," Gable agreed, raising her glass. And thank goodness I learned that much Dosadi.

Mila couldn't help but grin as she raised her own glass. "May the songs of our deeds fill the halls of Valhalla." It was incredible, she mused. Between her, the Captain, and the two Arnasons, they had turned this awkward gathering into a Viking celebration. Never a boring day on the Ourainavassa.

Major Rogers took a drink from her glass, "I hope you all have fun in Valhalla then. I don't intend to end up there anytime soon. More to the point, I hope to send a lot more there before I pay a visit..."

"That I'll drink to," Gunnar lifted his glass. "Though I hope not to send anyone to an untimely death - my calling is pretty much the opposite. Which thankfully means that I'm safe from winding up in Valhalla. Nothing about that sounds heavenly except that mead hall," he explained, taking a sip of the mead. "Not that Christian heaven is all that appealing either. If I have to pick from Norse afterlives, I'd prefer Folkvangr. But given a choice, I like the idea of Kalinar." He smiled at T'Ango. "I'm hoping after we've passed into the next world, ideally full of years and surrounded by kin, you can arrange an occasional day pass."

"Hmph" T'Ango shook a little, lifting her head and ears. "I will be very disappointed if my afterlife is limited to only Dosadi. It is meant for those who have lived the most honorable lives. But you, my Inau'holt, aren't the rest-in-the-Summerlands kind. I expect you to see the gate to the next world, turn left and come back as a helping spirit," she teased.

Mila shrugged. "I am a scientist. I haven't seen any evidence yet of any afterlife tradition actually being the truth. But I am keeping an open mind. Just hope it will be a long time until I find out."

Freya chuckled. "A sensible approach, definitely."

Seeing an opportunity to avoid chanting sagas, which after all were not short, hence the way the word had come to mean a long dramatic story, Gunnar tipped his head. "Perhaps tales of the dying in battle - or more often in feuds or lovers quarrels, honestly, given most of my homeland's sagas - aren't quite as appealing then?"

The Captain shrugged. "Romulans, Klingons, Terrans, all warrior cultures value tales of war. But you are right, battles should not be the only deeds worthy of song. And this universe's Terr- sorry, humans, have recognised that. Look at the Federation, it's a union built on utopian ideals. Sure, it will go to war to defend its vision, and it has its fair share of problems, but compare it to the Empire and you know which one I'd rather fight for."

She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a Federation Starfleet combadge. "Lieutenant Freya S. Mannerheim, AQ-22302-N. Chief Flight Control Officer, U.S.S. Poseidon. That was my assignment, before I transferred to the Section. I came to this universe by accident. I returned to the service of the Empire out of necessity. I have seen how things can be, here."

Freya looked at the two Terrans at the table. "Call me a traitor to the Empire at your own peril. You saw what happened to that poor fool who thought he could challenge me for my command last year. I don't fear the Empire, not any more. I took this Imperial commission, this mission, because I see the survival of life as we know it to be a cause that justifies taking a position with an organisation that I no longer believe in. You can wrangle over my command after the mission is over and I've resigned it."

The Commander looked over at her Captain and deadpanned, "If I wanted command of a ship, I would have gotten one already."

The Major looked at the Terran and considered her words. The only reason she was still a Commander when she left Starfleet was because she had been demoted and was sent to prison, not exactly a career track for command. Yet, here another version of her was... also a Commander. Ash's curiosity was piqued, but not enough to ask... not when another question was more pressing, "Resigning your command? Working with us is that bad, eh?"

The Captain chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself, Major. No, I intend to resign my commission with Imperial Starfleet and return to that of the Federation. In this universe, Starfleet protects. In the other, Starfleet conquers. I know which one I'd rather serve in."

Mila smiled. "That is very noble. Especially from a Terran."

That had the Major on alert, "Excuse me? You're staying here?"

"I have nothing tying me to the other universe," Freya replied. "Just a whole lot of memories I would rather forget. My sister is serving on one of the Federation ships in the Task Force, and agrees with my sentiments." She shrugged. "I spent almost half my life with the Federation. It has become my home. I see no reason to leave it behind and go back to a place I hate."

Now the Commander was invested in the conversation, "It's within my rights to kill you, Captain. As it has been for a while..." She drew her dagger and contemplated it. "I haven't," she sheathed the weapon again, "And I won't... this mission is too important for us to go without our Captain."

"Is that why you're still a Commander? Little gun shy in terms of career advancement?" the Major taunted.

The Commander sneered at her counterpart, "You should talk..."

Lt Arnason watched the exchange with almost clinical detachment. It was an interesting card for the Captain to play, and he looked from one to the other of his fellow Terrans, but only seemingly. His peripheral sight was on the others, observing their reactions. Some were buying it, others... not so much. Most on the fence; his other self looked sympathetic, wanting to believe but skeptical, assessing... with almost a start, he realized his counterpart was watching him too. He'd survived the Empire long enough to believe he was not giving anything away, but it was at least some version of himself doing the watching. "Not every career choice must be self-serving," he said. Whether to either Rogers or the Captain or in reference to hmself, could be left for any to interpret as they would. "What does not serve anyone at present is conflict. Tonight was supposed to be about forming at least a working relationship, yes?"

The Captain nodded. "That is indeed what tonight is all about. And I believe in getting to know your allies as the first step to creating at least some trust." She looked around at the privateer crew. "I've read your intelligence dossiers, and the reports given to me by the Commander. I know your backgrounds, and your skills. But that is all on paper. It only gives a small part of the whole picture. Meanwhile, to all of you, I am an entirely unknown quantity. You have worked with Commander Rogers for some time now, so you have had a chance to form an opinion based on your own observations."

She raised her glass again and took a sip. "That is the intention I have for this evening. You can't work with people, let alone trust them, if you know nothing about them."

In the interest of... diplomacy... the Major raised her class as well and drank from her glass, "You hold us at a disadvantage, Captain. You've had the benefit of embedding one of your's onto our ship. And you exist in this universe with access to our files. Yet, we haven't had the same opportunities. In the interest of building trust, I'd like Lt Lynn to be given the opportunity to access your ship and records. For us to get to know you a little."

Freya smiled. "You really are very similar to the Commander. And I am sure you will know exactly what concerns she will raise about that. That our ship carries technology and knowledge from the future, and so on." She looked at Mila. "But before we go over any problems that might involve, would that be something you are interested in in the first place, Mila?"

The Lieutenant nodded vehemently. "Hell yes. The opportunity to visit a ship from the future, even with restricted access? I think everyone would hate me if I said no. And they will all envy me when I say yes."

The Captain laughed. "Very good. Now, obviously we can't let you access the history files, or the dossiers we have on your crew. Predestination paradoxes are all sorts of headaches. Since our records incorporate information from long after your deaths, we have records of when and how those happen. I myself never looked at them. And I know that even what is written down can change. There is no such thing as a fixed event in time."

She looked at the badge on her uniform jacket. "We have, however, stumbled across a different kind of paradox recently, which is a whole different headache. A bootstrap paradox." She took the badge off and held it in her hand. "Some of the technology in this was considered to be impossible, until it existed. Much like people thought FTL travel, flight, even horseless carriages were impossible. And yet, we cannot find a source for this tech. It just suddenly appeared."

With a smirk, she turned to the Commander and Lieutenant Arnasson. "My friends, I think we have found the resolution for the Tricom bootstrap."

The Commander rubbed the bridge of her nose as she usually does when she feels a headache coming on, "With all due respect, Captain. I may kill you if this creates a temporal issue that I will have to fix."

Mila scratched her head. "A Bootstrap Paradox, you say? So, you think the technology exists in the future because it exists in the future, and someone in the past got hold of it and introduced it into the timeline? A causal loop, where the existence of a thing is the reason for that thing's existence." She nodded. "Commander, she isn't trying to cause a temporal issue. She is trying to solve one. So when does this technology first appear?"

Freya smiled. "You really are very intelligent. First prototypes of the technology appeared in the late 24th century. with it then continuously being improved and developed throughout time, until the current version, at least for us, appears in the 29th. A communicator with an integrated transport beacon that allows, in certain circumstances, transporting through shields, and a holographic PADD. It's that last part that poses the paradox. The Tricom badge's beacon can be attuned to a ship's or station's transporter, allowing, for example, boarding parties to leave the ship without lowering the shields, or to receive emergency beam outs."

"Which would be extremely handy in combat situations, such as the one we will be heading into at Hobus." Mila took a deep breath and reached into her pocket. "I am already involved in the paradox, Captain. This is the badge your science officer left behind on our ship during her first visit."

T'Ango's ears perked up at that. Those ears had flipped back when the Captain brought the Tricom up - it would be very useful, but it also smacked of bribery: 'don't ask too many questions and we'll share this tactically advantageous tech'. She had enough experience of covert agencies to twig anything smelling of misdirection. But if Mila had already gotten a start on that, the enticement didn't have to factored into any other considerations. ""Well, there you go. Time loops give me a headache, but if that mystery is as good as solved, you can just hand them to us and save time." She smiled. "For operational efficiency."

Freya smiled. "I am impressed. We should discuss your work on the badges when you come to visit our ship. Oh, and Commander Rogers, maybe you could give the Major a tour of the more tactically relevant areas? I'll take the Lieutenant through the scientific part of things. And maybe Lieutenant Arnason could show his new friend from the medical crew around Medbay?"

Lt. Arnason resisted rolling his eyes. 'Friend' was definitely an overstatement, but inviting Kaol would feed his ego and that could be useful, though being stuck alone with him for long was not an especially appealing prospect. "Of course," he replied, inclining his head slightly. He looked across at the medical crew present, his counterpart and Dr. Gable. "You are welcome to come as well, if you wish."

"Medbay of the future. I can hardly say no to that," Nancy replied. If nothing else a look around might give her a few ideas for innovation.

There was a moment of hesitation - and a tap under the table from T'ango - before Gunnar nodded as well. "Yes. If we're working together we should see what resources we each have available."

The Major nodded, "I'm glad we can make this happen. The spirit of cooperation and all..."

RSS Feed