The Lark P4

Posted on Wed 18th Feb, 2026 @ 3:57pm by Commander Anslo Tol

3,056 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: [TIE-IN] IBEX - In the Beginning...
Location: The past

Previously…. https://sb109.harperhold.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/2544

And now part 4…

{Transporter Room Three}

Elena had her doubts, she knew they had caught some sort of bug off of the Lark, her computer techs were rebuilding the Operating systems now to gut the virus out. T’vel wasn’t armed, and Elena typically didnt carry either. Her projection of power came from the words and confidence she used. The familiar hum filled the chamber as a single column of light resolved into a human form.

Rowan Hale manifested onto the pad, hands open, posture neutral. He was older, but didn't carry himself at a hunch or with any signs of physical abnormality. Rowan was among the first Humans to receive the infant care package, a series of medical interventions and supplements so the subject has a long life and adding fifty years on average.

The aging was inevitable, but Elena knew a rich boy when she saw one. Others had emerged from Earths final wars with barely a stitch of cloth to their name. Some rode it out in bunkers. Those who had protein sequencers and hydroponics were well fed and their children knew much better health, fewer defects in the generations to follow.

The Captain stood waiting with no security team in sight, as agreed, and Rowan took this in. That she had followed their agreement was a good start, and proved Starfleet could be dealt with honestly. The only way out at this point was through.

“Thank you for agreeing,” Rowan said in a plaintive tone, though genuine.

Elena Rourke had grown very tired of chasing her tail the last two weeks and cut to the chase, “You asked to be here,” Rourke replied. “That doesn’t make you welcome.”

Commander T’vel made a slight head jerk, as if to suppress a laugh. It was a small move but evident to Rowan who knew how to spot microexpressions and little moments. He was happy to see it, they needed people with heart if this had a chance of working out. Those who can laugh also cry, so to Elena he replied, “And I thank you for that too, I will hope to earn your trust in short order.”

They regarded each other, two captains measuring the space between authority and intent. Each of them hoped this contest could be settled without an exchange of fire. Elena was relaxed but Rowan knew the Second Officer would end a threat the moment it reared its head. She was ready, it radiated off of the Vulcan.

Finally, after a long moment, Rourke gestured toward the door. “My ready room then, and not a word til then. Follow us up T’vel.””

Elena had the confidence to turn her back on Rowan and walk in the lead to the bridge. T’vel was exactly one pace behind almost moving in concert with him. They walked in silence, but the crew knew a ship was docked, and word had gotten out. Rowan was being touted as either the hero of Tellious or its near destroyer.

{The Ready Room}

Crossing the bridge had earned some stares, but the ready room access was very close and they entered in a line, and the door closed softly behind them. Rourke didn’t sit. Neither did Rowan. T’vel who always stood, made no motion either. Four useless chairs listened as a very important discussion commenced.

“You’ve interfered with a humanitarian operation,” Rourke said, getting straight to it. “You’ve destabilized an already fragile political situation. You’ve refused lawful identification. Explain why I shouldn’t order your crew confined and your ship impounded.”

Rowan met her gaze, it was time to start the sale. If she didn’t buy it the only other way was to try and escape.

“Because if you do,” he said, “the blight comes back.”

The words landed hard, Elena immediately asked, “We show upwards trends and a disseminated cure uploaded to networks…”

Rowan was about as open and honest as he could be with that statement and she heard it in the words as he spoke, “The blight is a symptom of a much worse problem.

T’Vel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Clarify.”

“We didn’t cure it, but we can innoculate the crops that aren't affected.” Rowan continued. “We disrupted the epidemic. Slowed it. Bent its failure curves just enough to buy time for new resistant strains to take root. Without continuous intervention, it resumes within weeks, the spores are a part of the planets ecosystem now.”

Rourke’s jaw tightened. “You’re telling me you’re the only thing holding this world together.”

“No,” Rowan said. “I’m telling you we’re holding a door open that someone is trying to slam shut.”

Silence filled the room with the double talk and implication forcing a recount of the words. Rowan was saying it was intentional too. Elena was unsure how to proceed without speaking openly. She exchanged a glance with T’vel, gauging how the vulcan was still listening intently with a validation of sorts. They had trusted this far, and were getting answers.

“Who is causing all this then?”

Rowan spoke plainly, “A group of Humans, afraid of what this joint colony represents. They have ties to everything, in some capacity or another.”

“You could have come to us, we can help fight whoever is doing this.” Rourke said.

Rowan nodded. “Yes, and filed a report.”

T’vell had served in Starfleet as well as high Command, she added, “As well as commandeer your vessel.”

Captain Rourke had no problem fighting back, “That option exists for a reason, prior to this conversation you were suspect in this crisis's origins. Yes, I will be filing a report-

“-And the blight kills this world,” Rowan replied softly but firmly. “Not today. Later. Quietly. Permanently.”

T’vel pressed, “Permanently, because if the atmosphere fails it will back slide further, correct?”

Rourke held their gaze, “Ok, so give me a name, who is the third party here?” She was getting loud again, “And who authorized you to take action on a planetary scale?” she asked.

Rowan took a breath, “Those questions…” they said carefully, “It’s why we couldn’t come to you.”

Elena scoffed, “I get it, you don’t have an authorizing body, you are essentially acting on your own volition then?”

Rowan nodded, “Not entirely off books, we just have a system that allows us to roam freely under concealment.”

T’Vel spoke, voice precise. “You are aware that by operating under concealment, you undermine the legitimacy of Starfleet’s presence.”

“Yes,” Rowan said. “And we hate that. It’s one of the many reasons we stay so quiet.”

Something in his tone surprised Rourke. The man had made no dishonest moves, had only told the truth as far as she knew, and now with this statement the truth rang as well. She knew a sales pitch when she heard one, but this was something genuine.

Taking her silence for a command to explain further he added, “We don’t want to be hidden,” Rowan continued. “We want to be unnecessary actually. But right now, visibility is a destabilizing force.”

Rourke crossed her arms. “You’re asking me to trust an organization that refuses to exist. You are just six people on a fancy ship.”

“Nine. And I’m asking you,” Rowan said, “to look at the data we’ve already given you.”

He reached slowly into their jacket and withdrew a compact data rod, holding it out but not stepping forward.

“Sensor harmonics,” Rowan said. “Agricultural recovery models. Proof the blight is engineered, and by who, and how to counter it without triggering panic. It’s an incomplete investigation but you can connect the final few dots.”

Rourke didn’t take it yet. They had caught the ground crew of the Lark distributing parcels of food and technical equipment. The machinery was designed to accelerate growth, and had genetically modified seeds within. It was reasonable to assume Rowan was not attempting to play games for profit, he offered the solution freely. The subtext was this was also giving her credit.

“If I accept this,” she said, “I become complicit.”

Rowan nodded once. “Only if we exist in a report.”

Another silence. Finally, Rourke stepped forward and took the rod.

“This doesn’t make us allies,” she said.

Rowan allowed themselves a faint, weary smile. “No. But it makes us honest. The only part of the mission we hadn’t completed yet was identifying who was responsible. Our data to that end should already be available in your system.”

Elena gestured to T’vel and moved to the door, “Mr. Hale, we will be right back.”

The Captain and her Second left the room to discuss in private with the bridge crew. Rowan Hale sat alone in the ready room, but knew he had played his part well. He also knew that there was nothing that a churning mind could accomplish except heartburn, so he regulated heart rate and breathing with careful practiced technique. The restraints were minimal, containment fields tuned low, more symbolic than necessary. A courtesy. Or a test.

When Captain Rourke entered, Rowan looked up calmly. She looked uncertain, his job had been to plant a seed of doubt, and that was well done.

“Mr. Hale, I will be filing a complete report. Your group will just have to answer and be exposed to the light of day. I find honesty is the best policy and sneaking around is not good business.

“I’d like to formally request then,” Rowan said quickly, “that whatever comes from our data not be filed as an incident report.”

Rourke stopped just inside the door. “You don’t get to make requests.”

“I know,” Rowan replied. “I’m still asking. The long term ramifications of a Human interference to an alien colony would undermine the Federation significantly.”

Rourke regarded him for a long moment. “That’s not how this all operates, we don’t cover things up for a greater good or long term picture.”

“If you can’t see how this is something best kept to private rooms and in person conversation than Starfleet shouldn't be involved in this matter. I was right to keep you away.”

Rourke said nothing. She turned and left, leaving Rowan alone as he exhaled slow, controlled breaths.

{Science Lab Two}

The Columbia was scanning every inch of the planet, trying with limited results to gain more insights as to who started this. Commander T’Vel stood before a wall of cascading data, hands clasped behind her back, eyes moving faster than any human could comfortably track.

"Have we expanded to orbital vessels?"

Lieutenant Commander Kincaid hovered near the main console, jaw set. "Yes, I'm making full sweeps." The data was deep, and bios on many of the known crew were extensive. Whoever worked on these over the last weeks had genius level results, begging the question of who they were. The analysis had only just begun though, and the truth came out in the data.

“They didn’t just model crop recovery,” Kincaid said. “They modeled social response curves. Food distribution patterns. Even protest probability.”

“They anticipated unrest,” T’Vel replied. “And mitigated it.”

Kincaid shook his head. “That’s not aid work. That’s systems infrastructure level thinking.”

T’Vel did not disagree. She felt their attempts exceeded merely curing the blight. They had all but chased down the group responsible, and Columbia was well equipped for that part of the mission. The nature of this affair had a logical appeal to her sensibilities. The Lark had something very familiar T’vel couldn't quite quantify.

She adjusted the display. The blight’s signature reconfigured, collapsed, rebuilt, overlaid with LARK’s countermeasures.

“They did not remove the engineered agents,” T’Vel said. “They altered their activation thresholds. The blight still exists.”

Kincaid frowned. “Why leave it?”

“Because removal would reveal the mechanism,” T’Vel said. “And with it, the perpetrators.”

Kincaid looked at her. “They’re playing a long game, is the answer also devastating to the colony you think?”

“Yes,” T’Vel said softly. “A strategy for a long term survival as well as the short term… a careful one.”

A chime sounded, “Commander,” a technician reported, “we’re having difficulty with the scans of the Andorian orbital vessel Hespret.”

“Difficulty how?” T’Vel asked.

“They've raised internal shields. The ship isn’t resisting passively, it’s shielded from scans.”

Kincaid’s eyebrows rose. “Like it knows that we’re looking for answers, and doesnt want to be scanned.”

“...and like it knows that we would start looking,” T’Vel said. Captain Rourke had been hoping the story would pan out for the Lark to be altruistic, and the evidence supported that notion. The Hespret, an Andorian frigate back under Andorian control was now suspect. The reports suggested the Andorian crew staged an uprising, and nearly killed the Tellarites on board retaking the ship, the desperation made sense at first but this new wrinkle added a new problem.

{Shuttle Bay Two}

The LARK was small, unassuming, its hull a matte black, with delicate cilia like structures defying the eye. An umbilical connected the small distance between their two ships from the Port side. A teardrop chassis with an embedded crescent moon engine was the most they could make out by looking. Sensor teams moved around in the room trying to to get closer scans, different angles as their instruments returning inconsistent readings.

Kincaid had a yeoman drawing what he saw out of the window. Her approach was by far the most effective, she clearly had a knack for spatial engineering as she was able to extrapolate based on symmetry the other side for a complete ship profile.

“It’s not shielded,” the chief technician Bax Foige said, frustrated. “Every time we adjust frequency, the internal architecture presents a different configuration.”

Kincaid ran a hand through his hair, “That’s not possible of course, so its our instruments.”

“It is as if the ship is lying,” Bax said.

She knelt, placing her hand lightly against the hull.

“This vessel is not defeating our sensors through power,” she continued. “It is defeating them through anticipation. It knows we are searching internally, so it’s focused on… obfuscating the internal layouts.

Kincaid caught on, “Let’s Randomize your search vectors, no grid, no method, jump from scan to scan.”

Bax frowned. “We tried a variable detection diagnostic infiltration of their systems. Didn’t get far.”

“How far?” T’Vel asked.

“Three layers in. Then the system… stopped us.”

Kincaid looked up sharply. “Stopped how?”

Bax hesitated, their stations had simply shut down, he could only access the lobby handshake protocols pages. “Completely, Politely. Firmly.”

T’Vel straightened, “Show me.”

The display flickered to life with a code scrolling, very elegant script seemingly read top to bottom in a line, spare, yet beautiful. Too spare though, any other species would use this code base to its maximum potential, but the entirety of it was dedicated to a few simple tasks. This made it hard to fool, or circumvent. She began to recognize the pattern, but felt a resistance to it in her mind. It Can’t Be.

T’Vel’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. It was one thing to admire the work of a precocious child, another to see something truly original. Starfleet computer coding had that quality to Vulcans. This was not Human coding entirely, and she felt almost afraid to try and crack a fully integrated code. The program had not only infiltrated, but integrated into the Columbia operating system.

“This logic structure,” she said slowly, “is not Human. The operating system is advanced but familiar.”

Kincaid blinked. “You’re saying it’s alien?”

“No,” T’Vel replied, metaphorically gulping as she finally admitted out loud, “I am saying it is Vulcan.” The correction landed on bewildered ears, who still thought of “us and them” as “Human and Alien.”

The room went still at the realization, and T’vel heard the Chief speak first.

“That’s not possible,” Kincaid said. “Vulcans don’t—”

“—authorize covert operations of this nature,” T’Vel finished. “Correct.”

She studied the code again. Access was granted with the acknowledgement of the correct answer to equations, they shifted, the numbers would drift, or morph into another value. Someone who knew the equations at each level could simply enter the answer. A wrong answer often lead to system meltdown and data erasure.

“This is not an official Vulcan system,” she continued. “It is a philosophical one. A construct designed to prevent intrusion not by force, but by discouragement.”
Kincaid frowned. “It’s… talking us out of hacking it.”

“Yes,” T’Vel said. “By presenting consequences, hurdles, riddles even albeit logical ones.”

Bax was eager to try her hand at it, and began a diagnostic of each line of code, intent on purifying Columbia’s mainframe. Though this infiltration program was very good, she had the algorithm already crunching comparisons to their black box data and was near to start her purge when the console flickered.

T’Vel inclined her head slightly, she saw the Lark comouter was paying attention. “Don’t crack the program, ask it to allow us to process our ships data only, and stop interfering in our systems, if so we will stop attempting to bypass its security.”

A beat passed as Bax followed the orders, and suddenly she saw the interlocks on their data access lifted. T’vel explained, “We can strive for detente, that's an intelligent system.”

Then Kincaid let out a low whistle. “Once we granted them access, they meta tagged all of the research data and backtraced it for copies. I just turned those over too, as if an afterthought. Someone taught these people well. ”

T’vel only answered, “Acknowledged. We have our systems control returned so lock it down, change auth codes where necessary.”

The Lark had accomplished their mission and erased their trail, asking for nothing. Why do additional harm to them? For all their behaviors, they were allies. A small part of her mind even wondered if the LARK held any place for Vulcans.

-TBC-

Will be concluded in P5!

 

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