Chapter 136. The eared rat escapes and steals the antimatter
"Captain, we have received a message." Ingmar's voice was full of great surprise, which was not surprising. Because they can only communicate over short distances, not just for outgoing messages, but for all incoming messages. This means they can resend and receive messages if someone is nearby.
"Show it on the screen," Carol ordered. Her surprise was tinged with concern that a Cindy would appear on the screen and tell her that she was prematurely happy.
However, what appears on the screen is a distorted image of a man wearing a red Starfleet uniform. His words were accompanied by a cacophony of noise and crackles of static. "...Call Republic. Please respond." Then there was an obvious switch, and the man on the screen suddenly moved a centimeter to the left. "This is the Mir. I'm Alik, captain of the Mir. We're calling the Republic. Please respond." Then it switched again and the man started again. "This is Mir..."
"Automatic information," Ingmar said matter-of-factly.
"Close it," Carol ordered. After the screen disappeared, she looked at Jeffrey. "Can you tell where the information comes from?"
The Vulcan pressed a few buttons and looked up at Carol. "Coming from a point in space that happens to be within our limited communication range. Yet the sensors cannot capture this area."
This means they don't even know if there's actually a Federation ship there, or if it's just a fake message to test their communications capabilities. Carol sighed and looked at the screen again. Why can't there be a simple thing? But they have no choice, they must take the risk. "Open a channel and aim the transmitter directly at these coordinates," she instructed Ingmar. "Maybe we can avoid Cindy's attention this way." She could only hope so, because the Cindy's announcement was clear. Attempts to bypass their shielding will end in the destruction of the ship. But they can't sit here and wait.
"The channel is open," Ingmar confirmed after some input.
"This is Captain Gabriel Callow of the Federation starship Republic," she raised her voice. "We respond to calls from unknown vessels."
The silence that followed was simply eerie. Everyone nervously awaited a response, but the loudspeaker remained silent.
"Did the message get through?" Carol ultimately wondered.
"Based on the data, that's been communicated," Ingmar replied after taking a look at his data.
Carol bit her lip and continued to stare at the screen. Her hopes were hit again. "Maybe they're not there anymore," she murmured.
Suddenly, there was a snapping sound from the speakers, and then a garbled voice. "Captain Carol, it's good to hear your voice. We are very worried about you."
"I understand," Carol said kindly, but briefly. There are more important things than small talk. "Did Starfleet send you? Any news?"
There was silence for a moment, as if the news would take a while to reach the Orion Galaxy. "Yes, both. We bring greetings from Admirals Isaac and Noge. They tell you that Starfleet has not lost any antimatter. However, six empty antimatter transport containers have been stolen. About There are no clues as to their further whereabouts.”
Carol gave a smug look. That's exactly what she wanted to hear. And those stolen containers make it even better. This is exactly as expected. "Can you provide any documentary evidence?" She wanted to double-check.
"No, sorry, we..." The communication was interrupted, and there was silence again for a while. Then a snap and crackle came from the speakers. "We're under attack," she heard Alik's voice again. "Two Sindy warships are approaching us. We must retreat."
"Good luck," Carol said hastily, and with a brief gesture signaled Ingmar to cut off the communication. They must not be discovered by the Sindi in communications. They also have to keep the secret for a while.
"I hope they can escape," Carol murmured. However, they were unable to verify the situation. Finally, she turned to Jeffrey. Her eyes looked confident again, although her facial expression didn't give it away. "That's exactly what we wanted to hear," she said.
"We have no evidence, though," Jeffrey dismissed her confidence. This was typical of him, always finding the problem. But this is not because he likes to complain, but out of the need for objective analysis. This makes the situation even trickier because he is always right.
"That's right," Carol admitted. "But for us, a picture is emerging. It's a picture that I don't like." Her eyes crinkled slightly. "Obviously, the Sindi people are playing with us and trying to deceive us." Carol was very dissatisfied with this.
With a rumble and a creak, the door to the Negro's cargo bay opened. Originally the door had always been green, like the rest of the hull. But almost all of the color has peeled off, revealing a reddish-brown metal surface. It's an earthy tone that gives the feeling of being in an underground building. The Klingons mixed a color into their metal, causing this discoloration. Captain Razor has always wondered why the Klingons made such an effort. But maybe that's just because the Klingons like it. They are a group of warriors who like to fight in the open land and hunt in dense forests. Maybe that's why everything here is green and brown. Perhaps the Klingons wanted to recall the basic tones of nature in this way. But this is just a guess. Perhaps these deep colors are easier on their eyes versus bright lights and shiny surfaces.
Initially, after Reiser and his team captured the ship, they planned to improve the interior. With some suitable swag, everything will become brighter and friendlier. But somehow, they never did. Now, everyone is used to the ship. Just like it is now. It's also better suited for thieves and looters like them. Because people like them never like to be in the spotlight.
The cargo hold of this Klingon Negro is not very large. Only technical equipment and weapons are stored here. There's also a cargo hold, but it's not huge either. Because in the eyes of the Klingons, this is a reconnaissance ship, a reconnaissance ship that does not need to transport much cargo. Its main purpose is to quietly penetrate into enemy territory and collect information. Or conduct brief raids. Beyond that, there's not much more this boat can do. For really large scale battles, or transporting cargo, the Klingons have other ships. These include another ship called the Beast, which is almost identical in appearance but twice as big.
Typically, the cargo hold is adequate for stolen goods. If there is not enough, part of it will be stored in this warehouse. If it's still not enough, they store it in vacant crew quarters. There are two more such cabins on board. Because the ship was designed to have a crew of 12, but the actual crew was only 10, they had more space to utilize.
At this time, only the photon torpedo fuses and the ship's antimatter reserves were stored in the cargo hold. The spoils of the last raid had been divided, and the remainder converted into gold and other easily portable valuables, traded at Turga, their last port of call. This makes room for new loot.
When Lei Ze entered the cargo hold, he did not notice anything unusual. His eyes darted around the room, but he couldn't see why his crew had brought him here. He was worried about what they wanted to do to him here. But he pushed the thought aside. There is currently no reason to take such action. Everything has been going well over the past few months and the crew has nothing to complain about.
Lei Ze slowly walked towards the room. He looked around alertly, partly to figure out why he was brought here, and partly to detect possible traps in time. The Klingon Turtle, the ship's technicians Emma and Devin stood behind Razer. When he still couldn't see anything wrong, he turned to them, confused.
"Go a few steps further in," Irma asked him.
Lei Ze didn't know what to think of all this. The whole situation seemed a little strange to him. But there was nothing in Irma's expression that suggested any ulterior motive. And she was the last person likely to engage in mutiny in such completely peaceful circumstances. She was more concerned with her skills and the machinery on her ship. That's all she's interested in. She wants things to stay as they are and she doesn't like change.
"Go ahead," she encouraged him, when he continued to hesitate. "But be careful not to trip."
Razor looked at her as if she was a little unhinged. Where could he stumble? The floor was flat, all the boxes and goods were stacked against the walls, nothing littered the floor. The only thing he could trip over were his own feet.
Calmly, he turned toward the center of the room again and continued walking forward. He hopes there's a reasonable explanation here because...
Suddenly, his foot slammed into a hard obstacle, almost causing him to stumble. He stood upright in confusion, then looked down at his feet. There is nothing there. Except for the smooth floor. There are no obstacles. There was nothing he could trip over. But there is something. He cautiously touched it with his foot again. Sure enough, something he couldn't see was blocking it.
"Can anyone explain this?" he asked.
"That sounds a little strange," Irma began to explain. "But here we have an optical illusion." His confused look made her smile a little, even though the whole situation was far from funny. "Everything you see here is a holographic projection. In fact, most of the boxes aren't here at all," she continued. "And one of the two remaining boxes is right in the middle of the room. You just hit it."
Lei Ze looked at her with big eyes. Normally, nothing could make him lose his composure so quickly, but this time it really surprised him. "Why would someone create a holographic illusion for us? And if things aren't here anymore, where are they?"
"We were robbed," Devon said suddenly.
Lei Ze's eyes became suspicious again. This is almost impossible. How could they possibly steal something on the ship? And they were completely unaware.
"It's true," Alma confirmed Devon's words. "Wait a minute." She was operating a large device in her hands, and then the surrounding environment was distorted. Suddenly, the boxes neatly stacked against the wall disappeared. Instead, two boxes lay across the room. The lid was opened and the lock was broken. It was obvious that they had been forced open.
"What happened?" Lei Ze asked in shock.
"I activated a interference field, destroying the energy structure of the holographic field, and then..." Elma tried to explain.
But Razer gestured for her to stop. "I'm not asking about your technical stuff," he said impatiently. "I mean here." He pointed around the room. "What happened here? How could this happen? When did it happen?" He felt a wave of anger well up in him, and it wasn't directed at anyone in particular. He was just outraged at how this could possibly happen. The most feared pirate ever had something stolen from him? Who dares to play such a trick on them? Who has this ability and shamelessness? And why didn't anyone on their ship notice?
"We don't know yet what happened," answered Irma, bowing her head slightly, for neither of her companions spoke. "We found it a few minutes ago and called you over right away. We don't know exactly when it happened. The last time we took the photon torpedo fuse out of the warehouse was six weeks ago. Everything was fine then."
"Leizer can only deduce at this time that this happened within the past six weeks," in hopes of finding the culprit. If they don't know who did it and when, they have little chance of pursuing the criminal. But if by chance they found him, Razer vowed to kill him himself.
"What's in these boxes?" He pointed to the two boxes in front of him.
"The fuse for the photon torpedo," Irma replied dejectedly.
Razor looked at the wall to avoid venting his anger on Alma. She is probably the most innocent. And at least she had the guts to tell him while the other two just stood there like wooden figures. The empty walls reminded him of other boxes. "So the antimatter reserves were stolen too?" That's not a question, it's an assertion.
"Yes," Irma answered shortly.
"How many were stolen?" Lei Ze struggled to control his anger.
Irma looked at him awkwardly, then replied: "Seventy fuses and ten kilograms of antimatter."
Dre Ingmar tossed and turned uncomfortably on his bed. His sheets were in a mess and his pillow fell outside the bed. He himself lay writhing in bed, unable to rest. Although he was sleeping, he could not find peace. He closed his eyes, his eyes twitching wildly under his eyelids. He is haunted by a dream that seems to never end. However, when he woke up, he could not tell what he had dreamed about. It's no surprise that he's haunted by these wild dreams. The situation for the Republic did not improve. The Sindi still control the ship. They announced they would communicate further consequences to the Republic's crew, but have yet to hear from them. So no one knows yet how things will turn out. This created tension and stress for the crew, which was also reflected in these dreams. Ingemar isn't the only one having trouble sleeping these nights.
Finally, he sat up with difficulty, gasping for air. Small beads of sweat hung on his forehead, making him feel the coolness of the room even more. The coolness comforted him and slowed his breathing. In the darkness he made out the outline of his room. Of course, what else could it be? There is no one else here but him. Certainly not Cindy.
He took a deep breath and decided to take a sip of water. Maybe it would calm him down enough to go back to sleep. He pulled the sheets back and a blast of cold air swept over his legs, briefly giving him goosebumps. Then he put his feet on the edge of the bed and stood up. He had to go to the replicator next door to get some water. But he didn't turn on the light. He felt that the faint light emitted by the atmosphere of the Council planet was enough for him to discern the direction. If he turned on the light now, it would make him more awake. He didn't want to risk it because he planned to sleep a little longer.
As he waddled across the living room in the direction of the replicator, he noticed a flickering light in the darkness, like a beacon. He recognized it as his tablet and it showed that a message had been received. Ingemar felt strange, who would send him a message at this time? Haven't received it at night. Maybe something important. He had now forgotten about his need to fetch water.
Curiosity drove him to check the message. The sender is Shu Ran. His expression immediately darkened. He hadn't expected her to do this, but compared to the past few weeks, he wasn't happy either. He considered for a few seconds whether he should just delete the message without reading it. But then, he still wanted to know what she wanted to say. So, he opened the message.
As usual, Shu Ran appeared on the screen. She greeted him friendly and asked how he was doing. Then she continued talking animatedly, as she had always done before.
Ingmar couldn't believe it. On the one hand, she was so bold that she dared to send him a message, even though he clearly told her last time not to bother her again. Not only did she fail to comply, she turned a deaf ear. She didn't apologize for reaching out again or explain why she left the conversation alone. She brushed it off and acted as if the last conversation had never happened. On the other hand, she messaged him again instead of contacting him directly. He already knew to make direct contact. However, she chose to send a recorded message. Probably because the advantage was that he couldn't contradict her.
This brazenness was beyond Ingmar's comprehension. It was also beyond his tolerance. He couldn't believe someone could be so bold. Or, can Shu Ran really completely forget their last conversation and return to her old ways without caring? For Ingemar, this was almost unimaginable, because Shu Ran was actually a smart woman.
As she continued, Ingmar stopped the message and immediately deleted it. He never wanted to tempt himself to see the rest. And he had no interest in what she had to say. Then he stood there, staring sullenly into the darkness. For several minutes, he couldn't think straight. So he just wallows in his inner anger. Anger at Shu Ran because she just couldn't seem to disappear from his life. Everything would be so much easier if she could just disappear. Almost like she was haunting him with a curse. Then he felt an even greater surge of anger toward himself and his feelings. He was angry that he still reacted this way to her. Why does he always react to her deep down? Why couldn't he just shrug it off? Emotions are such a troublesome thing. And it’s still very tiring.
Finally, he decided to reply to her immediately. He wanted to do this in the heat of the moment. Because then those emotions will show up in the message, making it clearer how he feels about her.
He sat down in front of the camera and checked his image on the screen. He obviously hadn't slept well, and it was late at night on the Republic. His hair was messy and his eyes looked tired. This is a poor premise for taking a clear stand. Either he had to put it off until the next day, or he had to tidy up a bit. He felt that it was not worth the effort for her. But he never wanted to wait. He looked at the screen hesitantly. But he couldn't record the message anyway.
Then he thought of another possibility. He could also just send her a written message. That way it doesn't matter what he looks like. While it's hard to express emotion this way, in the end it doesn't matter. He didn't have anything big to say anyway.
He changed the program and quickly typed a short text with nimble fingers. It's not much, but it should be enough to make her understand that she should leave him. When he was done, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and read what he had written again.
Hello, Shu Ran.
If you didn't get me right last time, I'll say it again: I never want anything to do with you again. Please don't bother me and never contact me again.
Dre Ingmar.
Ingmar tilted his head critically. He didn't want to spend more time and thinking on this matter. That's not worth it. In short, this passage clearly expresses his meaning. He could only hope she would understand this time.
So he pressed the send button and turned off the screen. So he sat staring ahead in the darkness. If all goes well, he'll banish her from his life forever. This is the right decision. He didn't feel bad about it, after all that had happened in the past six months, he wasn't going to shed a tear for her. But I don't feel happy either.
