The Adventures of Willoby pt.2

Posted on Tue Oct 21st, 2025 @ 1:04pm by Fleet Manager Kas Shar’zhen (NPC)

4,421 words; about a 22 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...

Chapter II Lost in the Snow

“There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.”

M David Eagleman

MX Second Star- {Personal Quarters of Kas/Avor/Inia Family}

0700 Ship Time: 01DEC

Starfleet had a design language of long lines, divine ratios in circular form, and the epitome of this aesthetic was in the Excelsior class starship. The Second Star was a grand old bird, a stately vessel running smoothly, despite the personnel issues. A scrapyard rescue turned merchant freight vessel, the Second Star had made a name for itself as the newest and toughest outfit in the two quadrants. Numerous runs across warzones, contested territories, blockade running, anti-piracy task forces had made it clear how effective the crew was.

Kas entered the bridge after a sleepless night, the racket of her long turbolift ride fading away as the claptrap cart retreated. No alerts having come to her nor updates for several hours meant she had stared at the ceiling of her quarters and thought of nothing else.

She took her seat to the right of the captain's chair, conspicuously empty this morning. Kas had not been the captain for any of those victories, her role was at the side of power and serving with distinction. Quinton Beck had been the man who despite a lack of military training had rewritten the book on effective Merchant Vessel fleet operations. Now other mothballed Starfleet relics were being used for civilian commerce, a new age of exploration had dawned from his innovative reforms.

Quinton had found this Excelsior class derelict and championed a cause to return it to service. The Lady Fala was their financier and legal wizard, somehow those two made it happen. Insofar as far as the role Kas provided, it was the military discipline to run a crew like a tight unit. She was fulfilling that role admirably, but with Quinton missing, it was now totally on her to do his job too. The man was a magician and jack of all trades, who left few notes behind.

Still, she asked the morning crew, “What do we know of the Captain, or the Tiburon?”

Vicente was at the helm, the young man had been with them since before the Second Star was commissioned, serving on the Tiburon for years. Now he was a mascot for the ship and a cross trained officer who could do it all. Despite her confidence in him, he apparently had nothing from the last day of effort.

“Nothing I can confirm. We have chatter with some indications of possible cryptographic messaging, Judah is number crunching pretty much all of it. Tiburon is still in no contact, but if they went stealth mode that’s to be expected.”

Kas knew Tiburon was out there, but had to stay silent. She ran the scenario for the millionth time, trying to divine something new.

“Ok, so it’s been almost two days since the captain missed the check-in. Rivas VII shows the Captain and Fala arriving, but no mention of their shuttle docking at Rivas Orbital Station.”

Othor continued as she trailed, looking for the next piece of the timeline, “Yes, the Tiburon made it to Rivas VII, but immediately went dark without messaging us a thing…”

She reviewed the work done by the crew on this over the last day and was impressed at how many stones were turned. The comm traffic for this sector was busy, but they had sorted the innocuous and irrelevant largely and all that remained were select communiques that flagged for some reason or another.

Almost an hour passed until she arrived at an entry which reminded her of another loose thread, “Have we raised the Baast monastery?”

Vicente shook his head to say no, saying “Still trying, the automated receptionist won't take a message either.”

Kas hated dead ends as much as loose threads, this one had managed to become both. Quinton had made arrangements through back channels to be smuggled into Rivas through the monastery.

“We know the meeting happened, as can be divined when Fala accessed her accounts from Rivas. The exchange happened… we were supposed to pretend nothing was going on, just a merry ship on our way so they had an alibi.”

The fact this was a trap was becoming more evident. Quinton hadn't given much for details, just that he had to follow up on a potential lead that was too good a deal to pass up. He reasoned that Tiburon, and Toriza with her gang could be his backup so why then did they not help, or call for help?

Thoughts of leaving the crew behind made Willoby pop into her brain, specifically the stick which was in the snow left by his herd. The young calf didn't know it was a marker, he just hoped it was. Kas could take a similar leap, if there wasn’t a clear message she’d look for the odd ones.

“Judah?” She called out to their Computer Officer, a boy in a dire state medically who lived in the ships computer as a biological intelligence.

“Aye?” A voice emerged from this air, he used holo projectors as needed for a full body but when lazy, only projected his voice. Still a teenager, his desire to cut corners and exert minimal effort was still a behavior despite being a digital sprite.

“I see you’ve reduced the comms data down, any luck, leads, something I can help with?”

The disembodied boy replied, “So far I haven't caught any messages which can be reasonably attributed to Tiburon or the Captain.”

Vicente kept trying, “So Fala accessed her accounts, made a withdrawal, then we can only guess went to the exchange where something has kept them from sending any kind of message.”

Kas pondered, “We only know she accessed her accounts. The rest is a mystery. So if we assume they never left Rivas, then Tiburon went dark because the threat was real, and present. However, we can go by the lack of record at Rivas of their arrival or exodus as a sign that they were taken out of there in secret after Fala pulled a large amount of funds.

Othor added, “If they were laying low, the Tiburon is likely on the trail but cant give themselves away without spoiling the stealth profile.”

Kas followed it well enough, “We won't find a clue left by the Captain or Fala, rather by Tiburon. So let’s focus on that.”

Vicente nodded, “Ok, it’s an Icarus class scoutship, fairly unique array of after market modifications that could allow for-”

She took the lead, “You’re thinking we find a break in the stealth using our knowledge of the ships configurations, or they might have deliberately left a signal in such breaks… Get started, work with Michener.”

Vicente jumped to it, calling for Michener, their Engineering Chief. The Centauran was a classic machines man, and operated from the Engine decks directly. She hoped the two of them could find something to go on. “I’ve got irons in the fire here, can Junis take it?”

Grumbling, Kas reluctantly said, “No.” Junis was the nighttime commander opposite the Second Officer and of near equal rank. Kas was reminded of her negligence with another important series of tasks, her day job. Keeping positions staffed and busy was a relentless task, she couldn't just send Vicente off, he was a critical officer with many other things going on.

“I’ll put Michener to work, you finish your tasks, and assist Othor in comms analysis. Toriza left us a message, I am certain of it.”

As they worked she grew frustrated signing reports and trying to do the job right while such a crisis was ongoing. There were deliveries to make and if she followed her orders to keep going what would happen to the captain?

Vicente and Othor had a cadence slowly causing her to go mad.

“The graphics flutz out exactly as she says the number four, and this one has-” Vicente was grasping at straws, trying to find something and making it a game with Othor was better than being miserable.

Othor agreed, and interrupted, “I already checked for missing word cypher, first letters-”

“Oh ok skipping ahead then, did you catch the Meta data on the comms traffic is out of sync with the main transmission?”

“Yes, and it is not surprising given this sector lacks sufficient subspace buoys to circulate anything-”

“I called your mother last night just fine-”

“Then you have a spiritual side I must meet as she is dead twenty years now.”

“Oh no, Othor I’m sorry.” Vicente was genuine, the boy had a heart of gold.

But, after several hours of listening to either Vicente or Othor fail to discern anything from their scans she snapped in uncharacteristic fashion.

“Enough you two, just take a break.”

Vicente had worked with Kas long enough to hear what she was saying for real. She needed progress, this standstill was weighing heavily on her.

It was then that Othor Jaxz spoke up, “Let’s ask what the captain would do, how would Toriza leave a trail for us to follow, IF she wanted us to follow. Could a lack of trail indicate she doesn't want us to pursue?

The wizened Betazoid had a keen insight for people. Toriza was an Orion Duchess who took the Tiburon for payment when the Second Star had debts it couldn't pay to her. She was ruthless, and very good at anything she set her mind to. If Toriza didn't want to be followed it would explain why the Tiburon went into its stealth mode.

Kas understood, “If she is in pursuit, but can't give herself away then she doesn't have a tactical advantage. We are missing her signal, and it might mean she can't make a move until we act.”

Othor spoke again, “Judah, can you refine your search to anything regarding Earth Literature. Include Media and journalistic publications.”

Kas looked at him, inquiring with a raised eyebrow.

He explained, “The Second Star is a reference to a Human story, its a famous quote…”

Judah replied almost instantly, “Ha! Missing ship reported from anonymous sources, “Moby Dick. It’s a tale of a sea captain bent on revenge to kill a whale, he pursues the whale to the detriment of their ship, killing everyone on board trying to hunt it down.”

Kas scoffed, “Well if that isn’t a message to us then I am truly paranoid.”

She scuffed when she looked at the report, it listed the last known whereabouts, a sector of space known only as Balat Hokim, a dead star system and two pulsars.

As the minutes passed, they all felt close to something. Othor saw it first, “The pulsars depicted in the astronavigation are different from the ones in the report…”

Judah carried it home, “What a catch! Yes, the report telemetry is showing incorrect location data for the Pulsars!”

Vicente called out from OPS, “Ooh Kas, we can use the time of the report with the provided “incorrect” pulsar data and it gives us a location as of the time of the report.”

Kas was fast, “Extrapolate a straight line trajectory from that point and Rivas VII, does it point anywhere in a straight line course?

Vicente plotted it, Judah confirmed it, and the monitor popped up the map. The only remotely reasonable destinations that made sense sorted itself as Judah eliminated unlikely options.

“Well, that explains the running silent.”

It took only moments before a clear path was shown, and one of many destinations seemed to be heading to Forakkis, an inhabited world well inside Romulan space.

Kas realized she had stopped breathing. No wonder Toriza had taken Tiburon into stealth mode, if the captain and Fala had been ambushed by cloaked vessels the only hope was to track them. The Tiburon was a stealthy spy ship, and could sense gravity displacement well enough o track cloaked vessels at a distance. It wasn’t long range though, if she lost their trail even for an instant they'd lose it forever..

Drymouth and panic overwhelmed her senses for a moment as the truth revealed itself. Quinton and Fala had been taken and were on the way to Romulan space.

“What else is in the proximity of this path? Any other possible spots they might use?”

Vicente enlarged the map, a few minor automated resource stations, an outpost on the DMZ demarcator, a few uninhabited systems, nothing that really announced itself, except for the outpost.

Toriza was likely on their tail but only had a few crew and a small scout ship really good at blending in. She couldn't get a word out without spoiling their stealth profile, potentially revealing themselves to an enemy. They had a branch to guide them though, one stuck in the snow. There wasn’t a plan yet, but at least there was a heading.

She took a deep breath, setting aside the Romulan concern, before realizing that was the very thing she needed to exploit.

“The DMZ scans for cloaked vessels, tachyon grids, polaron displacement, gravitic lensing… By treaty they have to be checked at the border if cloaked right?”

Othor nodded in agreement, “Yes, they can’t cross directly into the DMZ at all cloaked or not? That outpost must be for cargo inspections, Judah?”

Kas appreciated his smooth thinking, “Yes Othor, If we can get to that outpost I bet it can detect where our invisible ships are.”

Vicente mentioned, “It would look weird to anyone monitoring ship traffic, to just suddenly change course, especially if it's towards our people. We will tip them off...”

The old man had already considered exactly that, “Yes, Kas, our present itinerary has us almost at a right angle from this waystation. If we deviate it will be clear almost immediately.”

Kas understood, “We can’t call ourselves out or tip the hand we have… Gods, do we really have to keep going on?”

She regretted the moment of uncertainty as she said it. The faith of her crew had to be unshakeable, this was not good for them to see.

“What about a medical emergency, does that thing have a facility for something hard to treat that might be outside our meager sickbay?”

Judah answered, “It’s designated Outpost C- Fisher Alpha, and yes it has a non governmental hospital servicing the Neutral Zone. I am getting telemetry back from the station… It’s a port

“The pulsar map gives speed and heading, which has them a day behind us, and we can get to the outpost in a day at max warp-”

That was the plan then she felt it coming together, “They are going to the outpost first, it can detect them, so they have a plan for that. Othor send a high priority alert, Vicente set a course and get us there, Maximum Warp.”

Othor paused for a moment, “Who shall I say is injured?”

Kas considered, “Toriza. Massive Radiation Exposure Event.”

Othor nodded with approval, “Sending.”

Kas hoped it would help obfuscate her presence a bit, as well as sending a message. All they had were signs in the snow.

Vicente announced, “Eighteen hours approximately, I am attempting to cycle through the comms band to find if the Tiburon is broadcasting, I’ll let you know if anything comes up Kas.”

She acknowledged and took the Commanders seat next to the Captains chair to continue her work. A portion of her was able to believe it was simply because of her macros and preferred setups, but it wasn't difficult to port those to the Captain's chair. She just didn't feel like it was right.



MX Second Star- {Personal Quarters of Kas/Avor/Inia Family}
1900 Ship time 01DEC
Avor had taken a short rest after work, before helping Inia and the kids with their dinner, schoolwork and sundry domestic tasks. Kas was still on the bridge, and his heart felt for the struggle his bondmate was facing. Inia was critical of Kas, far too angry, with a tragic reason to explain her behavior. Despite the animosity, there were still good times, and Inia complained often of her absence.
Inia never read bedtime stories, she found the reading and repetition too boring to manage. As though the intent was relive the story and not to entertain the children. Inia knew she lacked a mothers touch, and was jealous of Kas’ quiet gentle maternal strength in an internal truth never to be shared with others.
So it was Avor who tucked the girls in, after Inia settled into grading papers from a day's work teaching at the only school on board.
{Ancient Andor}
“The first branch was only the beginning.
Willoby trudged past it, heart hammering, and after a while, when the white of the world seemed ready to swallow him whole, he saw another. This one was bent nearly double and wedged into a drift, as if it had been pushed there with care. A second sign.
The calf stopped before it, breathing clouds into the freezing air. He stared hard at the crooked stick. Had his herd really left it? Could such enormous creatures with trunks and tusks stoop to planting branches for one small straggler?
His mother’s voice echoed in his mind. “We are never alone, Willoby, not if we keep moving.” He wondered if that was the same as saying we leave signs for one another.”
The girls loved when Kas read, but Avor was gifted with voices, he made Willoby’s mother sound matronly, with lofty wisdom like an oracle or all knowing prophet.
“But he had little choice. The snow had swallowed all tracks; the wind scoured every direction into sameness. Without these branches, there was nothing to guide him. And so he pushed forward, trusting.
The storm thickened. Snowflakes fell not like feathers but like needles, stinging his face, clinging in mats to his fur. The world shrank to a bubble of grey, and every step sank into drifts that tugged at his knees. Willoby thought of the warmth of his mother’s side, of the deep rumble of the herd’s march, and his throat tightened. It would be so easy to lie down, curl into the snow, and rest. But then he remembered the branch straight, deliberate, impossible in such a place and he pressed on.
Sometimes the wind screamed so fiercely it seemed the very sky was angry. Once, Willoby thought he saw shadows in the whiteness, slinking low and fast, but when he half-trumpeted in alarm, only the silence of snow answered. And yet, each time his spirit faltered, a new sign would appear: a stone standing at a peculiar tilt, or a strip of bark half-buried where no tree had grown for miles.
By the fourth such sign, Willoby felt certain of it: his herd was leaving a trail. Perhaps his mother had urged them, or perhaps the ancient bull himself had remembered the wisdom of keeping watch for calves with wandering eyes. Either way, the thought gave Willoby strength. He lifted his trunk, sniffed the air, and pressed on, as though each clue were a rope pulling him forward.
Still, the loneliness grew heavy. There were no other voices in the snow, no thud of feet, no warm flank to press against. The silence seemed a creature of its own, vast and patient, waiting to see whether Willoby would break beneath it.
It was in this silence that he first heard the squeak.”
Tor and Kee both gained an instant smile at the character soon to come. Avor leaned into the anticipation and really flared up the oratory rhetoric. His squeaks were so impossibly high pitched, juxtaposed against his taut lithe frame and midnight blue complexion.
“At first he thought it was the wind, whining oddly around a crack of ice. But then it came again: high, thin, quick. “HALP!” A cry, not of storm but of something small and alive.
Willoby paused, trunk lifted. The squeak came from beneath a shelf of ice piled against a low ridge. Snow drifted down in loose sheets. Curious, and a little cautious, the calf lowered his head and peered inside.
There, shivering on a patch of stone, was the strangest little creature he had ever seen.
It was no larger than one of Willoby’s ears, with fur the color of frost-touched blueberries. Its eyes were round and quick, and its whiskers twitched furiously as it struggled to tug its tail free from where it had become wedged between two icy rocks.
The creature squeaked again, eyes darting up at the massive shape of Willoby. It froze, quivering, and for a long moment neither moved.
Then Willoby did something very mammoth-like, He didnt remember his father well, but the kindness to small creatures was something others in the herd had always spoken of about him. He reached out his trunk, gently, and pushed the rocks aside.
The little creature tumbled free in a flurry of fur and snow. It squeaked once more, but this time it did not sound frightened. “OHTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!” Instead it scampered in a circle, whiskers twitching, before darting straight up onto Willoby’s foot.
“Ho!” Willoby exclaimed (or the mammoth equivalent thereof). He lifted his foot in surprise, but the creature clung easily, bounding up his fur until it perched boldly on his back. Its whiskers tickled Willoby, but an ancient kinship was enlivened as the Ice mouse nestled into Willoby’s warm furs..
The creature made a sound half a squeak, half a chirrup and then, to Willoby’s astonishment, spoke.
“Well now, that’s better! I thought I’d be a frozen tuft of fluff before nightfall. You’ve a kind heart, big one, stopping to help.”
Zala gasped in delight, her father had always rumbled the room like two stones dragged across pavement when he spoke, the high pitch and soft tones were completely strange to her. Tor and Kee both shared a happy glance, enjoying the antics themselves. As he went back and forth between the two creatures the change in body language, characterizations and vocal modifications were flawless.
“Willoby blinked. “You… talk?”
“Of course I talk. All the best creatures do, if you have ears for listening.” The little fellow sat upright, wrapping his long tail around him. “Name’s Tikkit. And you are?”
“Willoby,” the calf answered, still bewildered.
“Willoby! Fine name, solid name. Sounds like you’ll grow tusks to match one day.” Tikkit spoke quickly, as though trying to convince the listener of his words and needing more words to do so. “Tell me, Willoby, why’s a young mammoth calf wandering alone in the storm? Shouldn’t you be with your herd?”
At that, the weight in Willoby’s chest returned. His ears drooped. “I… was. But I got left behind.” He told the tale of the shining ice crystal, of looking up to find the herd vanished, of the strange branches and signs that seemed to guide him.
Tikkit listened, his antennae twitching all the while. When Willoby finished, the vole gave a sharp nod. “Ah, yes, yes. That sounds right. Herds are good about such things. Never leave one of their own behind, not really. These signs you’ve found… well, they wouldn’t be there without reason.”
“You think so?” Willoby asked, eager but uncertain.
“I know so,” Tikkit said with great importance. “And you know what else? You’re lucky you found me. Storm like this, predators about, hunters setting snares, lonely calf would never manage alone. But with a vole like me, quick of nose, quicker of wit, why, you’ve a chance as fine as any!”
Willoby’s trunk lifted in surprise. “You’ll come with me?”
“Come with you? I should say so! After all, you rescued me, didn’t you? And besides…”his eyes gleamed, “the world isn’t half so frightening if you’ve got a friend to show you where to look.”

And with that, Tikkit settled himself more firmly on Willoby’s back, as though he’d belonged there all along.
For the first time since losing sight of his herd, Willoby felt something other than fear. He felt companionship, however small, perched between his shoulders. The storm still howled, the snow still bit, but no longer was he entirely alone.
He took a deep breath, set his eyes toward the next faint sign a bent stone rising from the whiteness and stepped forward.
The journey was not his alone anymore.”

Avor closed the book, and Zala nearly started crying, “Daddy no, please more!”

With a voice deeper than the ocean floor, he gently intoned, “More will come, tomorrow. For now dream of plush snowberries and the hearths aglow.”

When he left the room and turned the lights, his thoughts turned to the future as well. What risks they managed keeping them here in this starship. He was supposed to love his bondmates equally but Kas had his heart, and he had followed her when she ran away. Losing Dure had nearly shattered their bond, and it was still being mended. Inia had brought the kids, to be with them here in this place.

Idly he attended to house chores as his thoughts dwelled on what their purpose was here? Were they trying to raise a family or keep it from falling apart?

The children's clothes needed to be refreshed, and from within the pile he saw the old article of Dure’s. One of the girls had taken to wearing their daddy’s old shirts, this one was a thick cloth, warm, and probably comfortable to sleep in. Dure loved black on blue stripes, it complimented the skin tones he had nicely.

Inia was working into the evening, as was her custom, his shift started in an hour, and Kas was overdue to come home. They overlapped like scales on a snake, sliding past one another just as smoothly. As was Andorian custom, any time the deceased are remembered, one makes a gentle look to the sky above, and creates an image of them in their minds. In this tradition, those who passed can remain, and their wisdom can continue to be heard.

 

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