Avoiding the Shards, Part 3: Chaos

Posted on Mon Nov 3rd, 2025 @ 12:29am by Lieutenant Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil & Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva & Commander Maxun Spello & Josef Forstinger & Lieutenant JG Leilani & Petty Officer 1st Class Enam Nemec
Edited on on Mon Nov 3rd, 2025 @ 12:59am

1,921 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Peril at the Unification Accords
Location: Barisa Prime Conference Center
Timeline: MD 08, 1745, (After "The Shattering Hour")

Administrator M'Tret's voice carried above the dine, not loud but certain--it was a small toehold amid the tide of confusion. "Form lines! You will be safe once you are through the exits!"

His hand gestured sharply, a motion showing both practice and restraint. The two Vulcan security officers at his side began to move with purpose, shepherding the crowd toward the waiting Marines. What composure the guests still possessed hung by a fraying thread--there were raised voices, clutched coats, and the smell of spilled champagne. One of the Vulcans paused to speak to a human dignitary who refused to move without her husband; another reached to steady an elderly Tellarite whose hoof-like feet slipped against the wooden floor.

At one exit, a knot of guests pressed too tightly. The Marine detachment there was doing its best to keep order, but panic seemed to be rising. M'Tret took one look and issued the command--calm but clipped.

"T'Vor, Selen--assist those Marines. Logic dictates order, not chaos."

They obeyed without any hesitation, breaking off and moving toward the bottleneck. For a moment, M'Tret stood alone, taking in the wide arc of the reception hall. His experienced eyes skimmed over the cocktail tables and half-finished plates still steaming faintly in the air. Then he saw movement on his left.

A young woman in hotel black-and-white had collapsed beside the buffet, her serving tray overturned, glasses rolling back and forth in slow arcs across the wooden floor. Another guest had knelt beside her, fanning her face with a napkin. M'Tret crossed the distance in less than a dozen strides and knelt, his hand finding the rhythm of her pulse beneath the jawline.

It was steady and shallow. But there.

"Syncope," he murmured under his breath. "Likely stress-induced."

He reached for a glass of water on the buffet table and set it down beside her. The woman's eyelashes fluttered, her breath uneven but very present.

"Administrator M'Tret!" someone called from across the hall.

He lifted his head, scanning. A young man with dark brown hair--not in uniform or formal attire--was standing near the cordon, looking stoic and calm through the wave of fear that threatened to overflow at any moment.

"Young man," M'Tret called to him, "remain with this woman. She requires no medical attention beyond rest and calm. When she is steady, carry her to the exit. Do not allow her to be trampled in the crowd."

Josef certainly did look stoic and calm. But his eyes stared through the room, and practically everyone present. This so far uncomfortable turned somewhat nice evening had now turned into something far far worse. With the people panicking, screaming and security rushing in every instinct in his body told one thing:

DANGER

But, there was no clear action, no enemies to engage, no cover to dive to, no squadmates to rely to... he only had one thing at his first disposal. That's when his head turned to look at M'Tret called out. He looked like one of those emotionless people-or the ones that had too many-he couldn't quite tell them apart-though the voice gave it away.

"Understood, Sir," he responded like or was some preprogrammed line. Tugging his top back into place as if he was about to grab something from under it--or the belt line it partially covered. Going to tend to the woman while still looking around the room. His past experiences telling him to under no circumstances have his back turned to all those crowds...

"Thank you," the elder Vulcan said, before striding away to find the source of his name and title being called.

Tenzi strode across the wooden floor in crisp, careful steps toward where she had left Josef. She saw a collapsed form ahead, a cluster of movement: a Vulcan in formal robes, several guests scurrying to exits, and Josef kneeling beside a humanoid woman in a server's black-and-white. The Vulcan male moved away just as Tenzi arrived.

She dropped to a crouch opposite Josef, her antennae bent backwards from the fear and confusion all around them. The server's pulse beat faintly in her throat.

"She's alive," Tenzi said quietly. "It's a good sign." She reached for the overturned tray, moved it aside, and brushed a glass stem out of the way before it could roll under the woman's head. "Help me lift her shoulders just a little--there."

Leilani did so, helping Tenzi lift the woman's shoulder. She was using her Starfleet medical training to run the best check she could on the woman, but with the panic of the surrounding area, her empathic abilities were rather scrambled.

Josef was just about to do what Tenzi asked as Leilani sprang into action-kind of glad that she did, as his medical expertise did not extend much beyond digging out bullets, bandaging, tourniquets, and splints. But the Panic seemed to also have some effect on Josef himself, as he did a quick look around the room, muttering "Something isn't right...."

"Agreed," Tenzi answered, keeping her voice low so as not to alarm anyone else, though there was already alarm enough. She glanced at him--his youthful appearance, dark hair, ancient eyes, centuries of time pressed into one very present body--and couldn't help a small thought from forming: if anyone could see ghosts in a crowded room, it was probably him.

The woman stirred, eyelids fluttering. Tenzi let out a quiet exhale and brushed a strand of hair back from the woman's face.

"Then it's not safe here," Josef replied rather flatly. That's when the two women could see it, as he untugged it from his belt, having used his shirt and jacket to hide it; he then unveiled a Glock 17. Pulling the top slide back once to check on the chamber before letting it click back. His breathing had begun to speed up only slightly as his eyes darted over the room again. Spotting the whole process of arrest with the Romulan.

It seems whatever demons were haunting him were beginning to get the better of him. Though it was being channeled in his given task of keeping the woman-and the two Starfleet members safe.

Tenzi's hands stayed firm on the woman's shoulders, even as the floor beneath them seemed to shake slightly with the nervous pulse of the remaining crowd. She noted a fine tremor in the server's fingers, the way her eyelids refused to stay closed, each one a tiny signal that she was returning to the land of the conscious.

Seeing Josef's antiquated weapon, Tenzi's antennae twitched forward. "Josef," she scolded. "What are you doing with that?!"

Leilani was keeping her full attention on the woman she was tending to. "Josef be careful with that. If they've activated a security field, the copper in your bullets will have expanded, and your gun will be useless," she said, not looking up.

Spello finally made his way through the panicked crowd to the group. "Report," he said aloud as his eyes took in the face of the person on the ground that Leilani was attending to, unsure what to do as he did not see what had happened.

Tenzi straightened from her crouch, antennae drawn back in concentration. "Commander," she said, cutting through the panic with a calm voice. "This woman collapsed without any clear cause. She only fainted so once she regains full consciousness, we'll move her to the medical station in the lobby."

Tenzi could feel her stomach tightening. The pull of every eye left in their sector of the reception hall was now being drawn to that one small, black object--the Glock.

"Josef," she said, barely above a whisper. "Please. You shouldn't have that."

The air suddenly changed before they saw why. A Vulcan security officer--tall, clean-shaven, the black and gold of his uniform glinting in the reception hall's light--stepped into their circle like some late shadow. His voice was precise and cool, honed entirely on logic.

"You," he said to Josef, his hand resting on a holstered sidearm. "You will stand--slowly--and place the weapon on the floor."

Maxun heard the words of his security officer, then saw the ancient gun in Josef's hand. "Mister Forstinger," he began slowly, ignoring the downed waiter for a moment. "Listen to what he says. Put down the gun, and slide it over to me."

Behind them, two more armed Vulcan security officers appeared, fanning slightly, forming a tactical triangle around Josef, Tenzi, Leilani, and the semi-conscious server. Their weapons were drawn, low at the hip, but ready.

Tenzi raised a hand carefully. "He's not hostile," she began, but the Vulcans were already moving.

One stepped in from behind, disarming Josef in a single practiced motion. The old pistol clattered to the floor and Josef's body went rigid as he was forced flat against the polished wood floor of the reception hall.

"Restrain him," came the Vulcan security officer in command.

Before Tenzi or Leilani could say anything, they both found themselves being shoved to the floor and metallic restraints snapped around their wrists. Tenzi could not believe it--she thought of struggling free or calling for Commander Spello, but knew protocol must be followed. She would have a moment to proclaim her innocence later.

Across the floor, M'Tret reappeared, his robes brushing against his black boots. His eyes took in the scene with the precision of a ledger: three detainees, one unconscious server, three Vulcans, and one ancient Earth firearm.

"Administrator," said the lead officer. "These three were in proximity to the fallen delegate. The human male was armed. The Andorian and Betazoid appear to be accomplices."

M'Tret regarded them for a moment--long enough for Tenzi to feel the heat rise in her chest. Then he gave her a single nod.

"Place them in holding," he ordered. "We will determine intent once the facility has been secured."

And just like that, the decision was made.

---

On the Bridge command protocol alpha finally heard from the first officer as his comm chimed, one of many coming through to the officers manning the station. =/\=Spello to Astrea, come in.=/\=

[Astrea here,] came the response from Lieutenant JG Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil. His voice cut clearly through the comm. [Go ahead, Commander.]

=/\=Send down two more security teams at once, and make sure no ships leave the area. This entire system is now on lock down.=/\=

[Everything is under lockdown, Commander. Central Command Protocol Alpha is in effect.]

Spello nodded when he heard the news. =/\=Please tell the Captain that, as soon as things are quiet down here, I'll beam up and come see her.=/\=

[Yes, Commander. Astrea out.]

---

Commander Maxun Spello
First Officer
USS Astrea


Lieutenant Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil
Assistant Chief Security Officer
USS Astrea


Lieutenant J.G. Leilani
Counselor
USS Astrea


Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva
Engineering Officer
USS Astrea


Petty Officer 1st Class Enam Nemec
Tactical Officer
USS Astrea


Josef Forstinger
Civillian
USS Astrea

 

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