S01E16 - Fenrir on the Trail

S01E16 – Fenrir on the Trail

Starfleet Mission Log – USS Heimdahl NCC-79852
Stardate: 81544,3
Grid: 123-M – Tradebone
Mission: 05 – Retrieval of Dr. Elias Vonn
Commanding Officer: Captain Shris Sosalis (LOA)
Additional Officers: Cmdr Aze (XO), Lt. Cmdr Sulok (CINT), Lt. Prazda Mirac (CSEC), Lt. JG Razenka Zare (LOA, CSO), Lt. JG Shirel sh’Veyra (Conn)

Mission Log

Stardate: 81543.8

The crew departed westward toward sector 123 from the initial site at 121-C. Not long into the journey, Fenrir began to lose interest. He started roaming, lying down, and resting. Attempts were made to re-engage him—first by replicating what a cybernetic wolf-dog might need: a bone... and a size-17 engineering wrench.

When that failed, they asked Nyx to escort him to the holodeck, which she did gladly. Notably, Fenrir may outweigh her—65 kg to her ~40 kg frame—with a potential sprint speed of 50 km/h compared to her 15–20 km/h.

While in transit, Sulok returned to the ship’s Intelligence Laboratory to compile and analyze the data retrieved from Dr. Vonn’s research site.

CINT ANALYSIS PACKET – Facility Sweep Data

Initial findings pointed toward Sector 126’s Tellarite mining dust (78% match). However, another lead surfaced—the Tradebone links. The crew elected to follow that trail first.

They approached the outpost under the guise of a courier/freighter, using the Shadow Lance’s NGL/NDT disguise protocols. There were no formal uniforms, checkpoints, or docking procedures—only their own Starfleet clandestine protocols to follow.

Pre-Landing Prep:

Two mission documents were generated:

1. Security Report – Assessment of who was planetside and local sentiment.
2. Station Overview – Expected locales, navigational schema, and station infrastructure.

In lieu of Starfleet uniforms, the crew replicated civilian outfits. Nyx—using the ship’s holoemitters and her "dress-up doll" subroutine—helped generate appropriate attire. The selected profile: bounty hunters. The aesthetic leaned toward weathered brown leather, with intentional wear and scarring. A proper "scruffy" look.

They also replicated a dossier of Dr. Elias Vonn, portraying him as an individual who owed the crew significant credits—standard bounty work. Questioning began.

Contact 1 – “Greenhands”

An Orion merchant nicknamed Greenhands was identified.
Appearance & Demeanor:

• Mid-40s Orion male
• Wiry build, dressed in layered silks and cheap jewelry
• Smelled faintly of spice and plasma coolant
• Nervous demeanor: twitchy fingers, overly loud laughter

Greenhands quickly gave up the name Mara, suggesting she might know more. A few strips of GPL loosened his tongue, and the crew moved on.

Contact 2 – Mara Korrin

They found Mara overseeing the slow, forced dismantling of her own starship. She was visibly agitated by yet another crew “looking to collect.”

Appearance & Demeanor:

• Short-cropped hair
• Patched flight jacket
• Grease-stained hands
• Slight limp from an old plasma conduit injury
• Spoke plainly, visibly exhausted

She confirmed she'd been roughed up—likely when parts of her ship and cargo were seized. She gave up another name: Lurok. He might know more.

Revisit – Greenhands and Lurok

Returning to Greenhands' shop, they found him packing to leave town—evidently funded by their previous bribe. Before he could escape, Fenrir shoulder-checked him at near full force (65 kg × ~50 km/h), launching him into the dirt.

The encounter escalated quickly. Aze applied direct pressure—literally—squeezing the man’s wrists until he whimpered. Under duress, Greenhands gave up the location: Galaxy’s Edge. They detained him under their mission jurisdiction and beamed him aboard Heimdahl for containment.

Encounter – Vaeron ir’Tolaris

As they prepared to depart, a Romulan figure stepped out of the crowd and made a direct approach.

Vaeron ir’Tolaris: “Aze, my old friend. Not a single word since that place.”
Aze: “Lucifer’s Ring.”
Vaeron: “Come have tea with me. I know just the place.”

With Greenhands secured in the brig, the crew followed Vaeron to his establishment.

The Tea House

As they entered, Vaeron snapped his fingers twice—sharp, deliberate. In moments, the room cleared. Patrons vanished without protest. Silence fell.

He turned, voice smooth, cutting.

“What happened? Where did you go?”

Sulok’s counter-espionage protocols triggered instantly. His posture locked. His inner alarm screamed extraction protocol. The words weren’t threatening—but the cadence, the stagecraft, the timing—all perfectly rehearsed.

He felt it crawl down his spine—a subdermal chill as every red flag his training had ever taught him lit up.
This wasn’t a conversation. It was a structured interrogation—Tal Shiar style.

The heeby-jeebus had arrived. Fully armed. Fully authorized.

Vaeron began pressing Aze:

“How did you earn that promotion?”

Aze gave up the truth plainly.

“We found a ship in a mountain—USS Heimdahl. We’ve been put in charge.”

That alone was enough to shift Vaeron’s entire posture. The Heimdahl—the Heimdahl—long whispered through backchannels as a ghost ship. A name spoken in secure rooms and encrypted bursts, never in official logs. A vessel tied to disappearances no one could prove, diplomatic “reversals” that defied logic, and research projects that never survived inquiry.

No one admitted to knowing who owned her.
Only that she was never idle without reason.
And always pointed at something someone didn’t want found.

A warship like that doesn’t just sail local lanes.

Vaeron exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d held and leaned back slightly in his chair.
His smirk returned—faint, but genuine.

“So... you’re Starfleet now? Did they reclassify the Heimdahl as one of the good guys?”

Aze didn’t blink.
Didn’t smirk.
Didn’t shift.

“We’re Starfleet.”
A pause, perfectly measured.
“But Heimdahl is still Heimdahl.”

That made Vaeron chuckle—just once.

“Good. I’d hate to think the quadrant got boring.”

He studied Aze a little longer now. The gears were clearly turning.

“So then... who are you reporting to these days? Adm. Varret? Adm. Halliday? Or do you have a handler tucked away somewhere I might recognize?”

Aze tilted his head just enough to register amusement.

“Let’s just say we have friends. The kind who know where to put us.”

“Of course you do,” Vaeron muttered. “Still... I could name five people—maybe—who have the reach to authorize a ship like that for a mission like this. And none of them would waste time chasing down a third-rank cyberneticist.”

Aze didn't rise to the bait. His voice was level.

“Depends on what he touched.
And what certain people don’t want him to say about it.”

Vaeron raised an eyebrow.

“Elias Vonn? That old quack? He's not worth the coffee it takes to file surveillance reports.”

**“And yet,” Aze said quietly, “he has something like the Heimdahl after him.”
“Doesn’t that tell you enough?”

Vaeron's smirk faded—just a degree. He leaned forward, clasped his hands.

“Whew,” he said dryly. “I was getting worried. But I see it now—local lanes, local fires. A ship like Heimdahl in your hands? That’s a very important job.”

Aze let the moment stretch.

“Even in chess, you have to move a pawn before you touch anything important. The bad quack just landed on a board he was never meant to be part of.”

There was silence then.
Just enough for Vaeron to consider the implications.

And to realize...

The Heimdahl was on the board.
Which meant someone was playing a game that no one had publicly acknowledged yet.

Not officially, anyway.

Sulok’s internal assessment:
This was not just a conversation. These were active Tal Shiar techniques—calm, invasive, surgical. We were being debriefed under soft duress. Interrogated, without the violence.

Before parting, Vaeron offered a name:

Dheran.
“I’d appreciate it if Dheran weren’t a problem once you’re done with him. There are… political reasons I can’t act. Protected assets, red tape. You understand.”

He made it clear—he wasn’t Tal Shiar anymore. But Dheran? Still protected. Still a ghost.

The crew countered:

“If Dheran has any data worth transmitting, we’re sure Agent Corvus would love a conversation. Possibly several. Over drinks. And handcuffs.”

Status: Active
Galaxy’s Edge – destination marked
Greenhands – secured
Dheran – flagged
Vaeron – still watching