The Ansha Tales: What Will Become Of Her
An epilogue to Experiments Transcript and
Escapes Transcript
Earth Space Dock, United Federation Court, July 9th, 2425.
Brenda Blaszczyk sat alone on the bench outside of the courtroom. She stared blankly at the marble floor, barely moving, for what seemed like forever. Her thoughts are a jumbled mash of everything that had happened over the last month, from discovering the lab she worked out was conducting unethical experiments, to the loss of many of her colleagues and friends, to being betrayed by someone she looked up to, and meeting someone whom she wanted to be with so badly right now.
The apprehension was horrible. The tension was unbearable. She spent her last few days, since leaving the USS Hornet in detention at Earth Space Dock. Her only physical contact was with her legal representative, who had been very supportive. Luckily she had been able to talk to her parents back in Ohio, and to that someone she longed to be with, namely, Ansha Wind-People.
They were all giving her hope.
But now she waited outside the very room where she would find out if she was to be charged as an accessory to crimes committed by Doctor Mordren, or set free. Everyone from her attorney to her family and Ansha repeatedly tried to assure her that the latter would be the case, but nagging doubt hung in the back of her mind.
She had heard that Mordren tried to bring as many down with him as he could, Brenda being one of those as she was as close to his work as she could have been and still be ignorant to his true actions. So far, most of the staff was let go, and she was the last of the senior staff to be processed.
Peter Scholl, the xeno-zoologist plopped down next to her, breaking her thoughts and startling her.
“So, Brenda,” he said, smiling at her, “have you burned a hole through that floor yet?”
She smiled. “Hey, Pete. I thought they cleared you? Shouldn’t you be in San Diego?”
“Not yet,” he replied “I’ve been hanging out, providing moral support to all my friends, and being that you are one of my friends, I’m here to offer my services as a moral supporter.”
“Thanks,” she said smiling.
“Look, B,” he said, “They’ve cleared pretty much everyone who didn’t have access to the restricted levels so far. We were ignorant. You are in that category. They aren’t going to charge you with anything. Is that what you are worried about right now.”
“Pete,” she said, “What about Lylock? They charged him.”
“Yeah, they did,” he said, nodding.
“He didn’t have access.”
“No, Brenda, but he did ‘recruit’ Nick Wind-People. Did you know that?”
“Really?”
“Ye-up,” Pete said. “He was doing most of the… ‘collecting of specimens’.”
“Wow,” she said.
“So there ya go,” Peter said. “He was guilty as sin.”
“I heard Mordren was threatening to take everyone down with him.”
“Yep,” he continued. “He’s singing like a songbird. Doing whatever he can do to get a deal.”
“I heard he was going after everyone though, like regardless,” Brenda said.
“Yeah, he tried to say was cruel to the specimens and shit. Fortunately, all the surveillance data was saved by the Hornet and it showed what I already knew, I wasn’t.”
“What about me though?” Brenda asked.
“Ah, ya know, B. He’s playing the ole’ paranoia game and trying to say you were doing eugenics.”
“What!? NO!”
“Yeah, calm down. They didn’t buy it. Don’t worry. You had already forked over your unedited research data, plus his. Though someone had altered one of his research files to include you as a contributor.”
“What?”
“Look, B, they know bullshit. You sent the checksums when you sent all of his stuff, so they knew it was edited. Oh, the look on his attorney’s face. It was awesome.”
“You were there?”
“I had to, Brenda. I wanted to hear what that S.O.B. was saying. It was hilarious, that attorney was an idiot. He made a panic move and said that you changed the checksum after that, which…”
“I can’t do that!” she interjected
“…which they knew you couldn’t do that,” Peter said, picking back up where he left off. “The tribunal was getting so sick of that clown. Nope, nothing is gonna stick.”
“Did you go to all of them?” Brenda asked.
“No, couldn’t. I had my own arraignment to deal with, but I’m sure it was more of the same bullshit.”
“What if he said something during one of those other trials… you know… that…”
“B, calm down. Look, did you do anything unethical?”
“No. I swear.”
“Then you’re fine,” Peter said. “It will be fine.”
Brenda looked down. It was still all about the what if’s in her mind. She knew she did nothing wrong.
The large door to the court opened up and her attorney peaked around the corner at her.
“Brenda,” he said. “They’re ready for you. Let’s get this over with so you go home.” He motioned into the courtroom with his head. “Come on.”
When she stood up, so did Peter. The two exchanged a hug. She then straightened her dress and jacket and grimly proceeded through the courtroom doors, following her attorney.
As she walked down the center aisle, the only sound, aside from the click of her heels on the marble floor, were the whispers of the standing spectators in the gallery, most of whom stared at her. This made her even more nervous. What did they think of her? What had he told them? What did they believe?
It seemed like a mile to the podium where she would stand and face the three judges. To her left, the prosecutor stood, holding a PADD in one hand and focusing hard upon her visually. To her right, her attorney sat after guiding her to the podium and giving her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze with a smile.
In front of her the judges stood, waiting for her to settle in. The center judge finally said, “You may be seated.”
There she was, alone amongst a sea of people, with all eyes upon her.
She wished she had on her cat ears.
The center judge, who was the lead apparently, looked at her. He was human, perhaps in his sixties. His face was old and wrinkled, and his hair was grey, in contrast to the two judges on each side who seemed younger, one a female vulcan in which case she may be the oldest of the trio, and a Rigellian male. None of them smiled.
“Will the defendant state please state her name for the court,” the lead judge said.
“Uhm, Brenda,” she began softly.
“Hold on,” the old judge said. He smiled. “Louder, please, dear.”
“Sorry,” she said. “Brenda Ann Blaszczyk, your Honor.”
“Miss Blaszczyk,” he said, “you are aware that these proceedings are to decide if you are to be charged in reference to activities at Research Station KT-104-22, correct?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“Do you wish to make any statement regarding activities at Research Station KT-104-22, in addition to the testimony you have already made?”
“No, your Honor.”
“Alright then,” he replied. He looked to the woman at the table to the left of Brenda, the prosecution and said, “Counselor Harrington, does the prosecution have any charges to bring forward for Miss Blaszczyk, on this day, the Ninth of July, Twenty Four, Twenty Five?”
The woman rose and looked at her PADD. It seemed like an eternity before she spoke. Brenda closed her eyes in painful anticipation of bad news.
“No, your Honor,” she said. “We have no charges against Miss Blaszczyk.”
It took a good long moment for what was just said to sink in. Her knees almost buckled and she swooned forward onto the podium, which prompted a bailiff and her attorney to quickly move to hold her up. She steadied herself on the podium and thanked them both.
“Thank you, sorry, I’m alright, I’m fine, thank you.”
She blushed bright red, as she looked around. People were smiling. The prosecuting attorney was even smiling. Not smiles as in they were mocking her, but more that they knew her relief. They had seen it all before and some maybe have felt the same.
The judge banged his gavel against his desk and said, “Order, order in the court please.”
Once the courtroom had settled, the judge looked at Brenda and smiled. “In that case, Miss Blaszczyk, you are dismissed.”
She was still in shock and disbelief as her attorney guided her out of the courtroom. Standing in the back near the door was Peter. He looked at her and mouthed the words “Told ya so.”
She laughed. They hugged as she walked by and then out the door she went.
Jackson Township, Ohio, Earth, August 3rd, 2425.
Clad in a long t-shirt with cats on it, pajama bottoms, and fuzzy slippers, Brenda walked through her parents house holding a bowl of cereal with little multi-colored marshmallows amongst a sea of milk and small oat kibble. She was heading back to her room from the kitchen having woken up moments prior. Her curly blonde hair was a tangled mess that hung haphazardly to one side of her head in hastily applied, brightly colored, hair elastic. It was 8:00 AM and her parents had sat down to watch the news in the living room, each with breakfast on a TV tray in front of them.
”Today’s top stories: negotiations with representatives of the Romulan Star Empire have once again hit a snag. Starfleet unveils its latest designs, and scandal rocks galactic baseball as a widespread gambling scheme is uncovered in the dugouts, but first we’re going to Jeremy with breaking news coming straight from the world of science.”
“Thanks, Bill. We’ve got more on a developing story that would have been the plot to a classic horror novel that has been playing out in a Federation court. Yesterday, controversial xeno-biologist, Doctor Aaron Mordren, was convicted on sixteen counts of violation of a sentient beings’ rights, three counts of willful neglect, and twelve counts of manslaughter. Sentencing is expected to come in the next few days as the legal panel deliberates on an appropriate punishment, but prosecution expects their wishes for concurrent life sentences to be the call. This comes after a grueling trial with horrific evidence presented, at times too gruesome to be read aloud.”
“The GNN Action Newsteam interviewed some of the…”
Brenda stopped and turned to look at the holograph project. There he was, being led off in shackles. She could see Peter in the background, and next to him was Nick Wind-People, as well as several of her former colleagues. Some were smiling, a couple were jeering, and some were crying. She assumed the crying was not for sympathy but rather closure.
“Rot in hell, you sunuvabich,” Brenda said.
“Is that the guy you used to work for, Kitten?” her dad asked.
“Yeah, daddy, it was.”
“Well, I say good riddance,” her mom said. “Was he some kind of human-looking alien from somewhere else?”
“No mom,” Brenda answered, “he was human, but what does that matter?”
“Well, ya know, honey… some of those people from other planets, they just think differently about things we do. You can’t always trust ‘em. I mean what kind o’ name is ‘Mordren’ anyway? Sounds off-planet to me. Could be one of those shape-shifters from that water universe.”
“Mom, he was from Michigan."
“Well, there ya go,” she said, throwing her hands up as though that was the revelation that was missed by Brenda. “Anyway, Brenda, you need to be more careful with who you associate with nowadays. Tonya, my hairdresser, was telling me that her nephew went off with some guy who was telling people he was a time traveler and recruiting people to go back to the past and fight some folks called the Nakool or something like that. Just crazy! If ya ask me, I think they were trying to steal his organs!”
Brenda blinked a few times then took a mouth full of cereal.
“Well, Kitten, how’s your research project hunt going?” her dad asked, trying to quickly change the subject.
Brenda sighed, “I’ve applied to several but there’s just not much going on in genetic science right now.”
“Ya know, Lamburgh Med is looking for lab techs,” he replied. “They could use you. Be better than mopin’ around here. I could talk to Terry about getting you in there.”
Brenda sighed again. That was totally not what she wanted to do and definitely a few steps down the ladder from her goal of finishing her doctorate.
“I’ll… I’ll think about it, daddy,” she said.
“Alright, Kitten,” he replied. He smiled warmly at her. “Chin up, sweetheart. It’ll get better. At least you aren’t going to some prison planet like that joker.” He pointed to the final scene on the holovid broadcast showing Dr Mordren being guided into a prisoner transport shuttle.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve got some more applications to put in, so… yeah… I’m gonna go this way.”
“Alright, Brenda,” her mom said. “We love you, honey.”
“I love you guys too,” she said. She turned and continued back to her room.
She sat her bowl of cereal down and plopped into her chair in front of her holo-terminal. She pulled up her messages and then picked her bowl back up in order to gird herself for the barrage of rejection letters to come.
Three rejections right off. Great way to start. She was either over-qualified, not the skillset they were looking for, or was simply told they were pursuing other options whatever that means. She began to wonder if her relation to Research Station KT-104-22 and Doctor Mordren had forever tainted her as a prospect. Guilty by association, after all.
A message from Ansha was next. This was a welcome change. She described how life was now that she was the executive officer onboard the USS Patriot. At least she was happy. A twinge of jealousy hit Brenda a bit, but that was stomped into submission by the love she felt for this marvelous being that was so amazingly supportive when she didn’t have to be.
Brenda decided to answer that one in a bit and move on to the next few rejections in order to get the negative vibes out of the way.
That’s when it appeared. The message that was not a rejection. The message was from all things an Orion house? Apprehension gripped Brenda as she briefly wondered if this was some trick aimed at desperate people to sell them into slavery or forced labor for druglords. She in all honesty couldn’t remember applying for the position, but she had applied for so many that this would not be surprising. She decided to read it anyway.
We are delighted that you have applied for a position with our research facility. After reviewing your resume, we are interested in scheduling an interview with you at your earliest convenience. We are definitely in need of someone with your background and knowledge for our pharmaceutical facility.
Our house decided to rework its pharmaceutical research to align more with the legitimate medical needs of the galactic community. Much of what we manufacture are compounds that for various reasons cannot be produced with a replicator. Many of the compounds and medications we produce have been unavailable in large quantities, yet important to improving the lives of billions of people throughout the galaxy. Thus we feel it is a much needed endeavour.
We are not going to mince words here, we were a Syndicate house. We were involved in criminal activities, and we harmed many. We will admit that this was a dark time and in embracing our past mistakes, we accept that we did bad things. Now, though, we are led by Sherrishia Valusia Tabadi, who seeks to bring a better way of life to our house, improve our relationship with the United Federation of Planets, and use our knowledge to better the lives of our galactic neighbors.
Though we learned much concerning large scale manufacturing of chemical compounds during those darker times, we feel that this knowledge should not be thrown out for its illicit origins. We feel that we can use what we learned to make large quantities of life-saving pharmaceuticals.
Recently we were involved in delivering live-saving drugs, free of charge to the Vael Teryn system, which was beset with a terrible plague, in cooperation with Starfleet. We have been actively researching, in cooperation with Federation science teams, to create a medication to break the Jem’Hadar addiction to Ketracel White and provide the necessary enzyme they were bred without. We have taken on the task of developing treatments for Sharote’s Disorder, which affects one in twenty members of the Juletto species. These are just examples of the exciting and rewarding work we are currently or have been involved in.
Our Tabadi is making a great effort to modernize our facilities. To that end, she has authorized a search for talent beyond our Orion space borders in order to find those with what we feel will bring new knowledge and fresh perspectives to our processes. It is for that reason we feel you may fit for the role of Uta Sheinish, or Lab Director, at our new Genetic Research Lab at our Meh’jeniar Facility in the city state of Sherrish-il-Thlass, on Orion Prime. We would like to meet you for an interview. If it would be convenient we can meet you at the Federation space station DS-13 if that is acceptable.
We will await your reply.
May the Mother Goddess bless you with beauty and wisdom.
//SIGNED//
Assani Valusia
Facility Manager/Rhadaman Anthus
Meh’jeniar Pharmaceuticals Facility
Valante’ Valusia Kar
Valusia, that name was familiar. A search later and there it was, Doctor Jeiliscia Valusia, whom Brenda had met while on the USS Hornet. Brenda wondered if there was a connection, and perhaps she would know if this was a scam.
The next question to come to mind was would a Starfleet doctor who Brenda has met one time be willing to answer a message as to whether this was a legitimate job or not. Maybe Ansha would be able to help.
She opened the instant message window and began typing.
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > Hey, Anshaboo. Do you know Dr Valusia? You know, that Orion doctor onboard the Hornet?
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morelOfTheStory > HEY MY PRETTY LITTLE KITTEN! :* <3 Yes I know her. Jeiliscia Valusia. Lieutenant commander and decorated hero twice over. She is very nice and very smart. You met her, didn’t you? Why are you asking?
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > I got an interview offer from someone named Assani Valusia and I didn’t know if they were related or something. Some title like Facility Manager/Rhadaman Anthus, Meh’jeniar Pharmaceuticals Facility, Valante’ Valusia Kar
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morelOfTheStory > Dr Valusia would probably know. That’s her family. She’s like a princess I think, though she never talks about it. Her sister is the Tabadi which is equivalent to a Queen.
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > 0.0 Really? Wow. What is she doing in Starfleet looking at people’s hemorrhoids? She should be living large on Risa or something. That’s what I’d do.
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morelOfTheStory > I do not know, but her life, her choice, right? Anyway, she would know about it or probably know someone who knows or knows how to find out or even help you get in there.
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > Ugh. I really dont want that much help tho. I want to get the job myself.
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morelOfTheStory > It’s called networking, stubborn. Anyway you should still message her to make sure it is legit. I do not want you ending up as someone’s slave.
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > *Someone else’s ;)
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morelOfTheStory > LOL Naughty. Gonna get you one of those outfits and make you dance for me. haha Anyway, message her. She is nice. I can talk to her if you need me to.
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BBKITTY(=^・^=) > heehee I will rock that look next time I see you. Anyway I’ll shoot her a message. No need to trouble yourself. I know you have plenty to worry about. Thank you so much Ansha. <3 PLS BE SAFE!
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morelOfTheStory > YOU TOO BOO! I hope it works out. Let me know what happens pls. I cannot wait to see you again. Now go do the thing!
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Brenda smiled and thought for a moment. She hated talking to people she didn’t know very well, but Ansha was right about being cautious. This was an Orion firm, and what Brenda knew about the Orion people was limited mostly to what she heard on the news, saw in cheesy holovids, or learned through gossip from her mother. Given her meeting the Orion Starfleet officer Lalaa Drush, who helped her deal with being a claustrophobic crawling through a vent tunnel, and then being medically evaluated and cleared by Dr Valusia who did seem very kind and sympathetic to her and her surviving colleagues, it seemed that much of the bias was misplaced and perhaps it was time to change her way of thinking.
She knew her mom was going to have fit, especially given the last few weeks of preaching about the right people and not trusting certain types. Her mom could be narrow-minded and at times prejudiced against non-humans. She’s always been particularly hard on Orions, with one too many recited conspiracy theories about Orion slave traders kidnapping young girls from Earth in broad daylight to sell them to Ferengi merchants. This was probably not going to satisfy her mother’s angst, even if Brenda pointed out that Dr Valusia is a Starfleet officer, and even if it turns out to be her family and they’ve gone good. It was therefore probably best to keep this one under wraps for a while.
A message popped up from Lamburgh Medical Research with the subject line of “Your father said you were interested in…”
“Dammit, Dad,” she said, rolling her eyes. She stared at the message and then opened a new message frame and began to type “LCDR Jeiliscia Valusia, MD” in the ‘TO’ field.