I Object! Part III
Posted on Mon May 25th, 2026 @ 11:55am by Captain Thorrin & Commander Marisa Sandoval & Lieutenant C'Mila Juli & Lieutenant Junior Grade Wyatt Spencer & Major Hastios Eilfaren
Edited on on Mon May 25th, 2026 @ 12:23pm
1,993 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
In The Nick Of Time
Location: The Planet Kroat
Timeline: MD006 1130 hrs
"Indeed. We will correct the history, then return to the ship to admire each other." Marisa looked over Hastios one more time, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, then she stepped onto the transporter pad.
When the four of them were ready, the half-Vulcan nodded to Farrelly. "Activate the transporters, please."
Stephen set the coordinates and looked up from the console. "See you in a few minutes." He said with a smile, it was his way of making a temporal joke.
They materialized in a copse of trees on the outskirts of a large meadow where hundreds of Kroats and Vwaarti were gathering for the wedding. The sun was sitting just above the trees. Lights hung from every tree and torches lined the dais where the couple would be married.
"Shall we see how close we can get?" Marisa asked the others. "I assume whatever is going to happen will be on that dais."
The cold air hit him the moment the transporter released them, sharp with pine, torch smoke, damp earth, and the sweet-crushed scent of grass under too many feet. Beyond the fringe of trees, the meadow opened in a wash of gold and firelight, hundreds of figures moving through it in rich colour and ceremony while the dais stood ahead like the still point everything else would eventually turn toward.
Hastios let the scene settle in around him for one measured breath. His eyes moved once across the gathering, not lingering, not hunting too obviously, but marking what mattered. The shape of the crowd. The routes in and out. The distance to the platform. The places where someone could watch without being watched in return. If history was going to break here, it would not do so quietly, and it would not happen far from that dais.
The medical alterations sat so cleanly on him now that he had stopped thinking of them as alterations at all. That was part of the craft. Years of undercover work had taught him that the disguise itself was only half the lie. The rest lived in the body. In the pace. In the expectation. In the quiet confidence of someone who belonged so completely that no one thought to question it. So, he settled into the role of a northern Kroat officer with the ease of long practice, broad shoulders squared beneath the formal weight of rank and decoration, expression composed, movements unhurried. Men dressed like this did not slip into a celebration. They arrived.
“Yes,” he said at last, voice pitched low for the others alone. “But not straight toward it. We take the long angle, let the crowd swallow us, and find a position with a clean line to the platform.” His gaze shifted briefly to Marisa, then out across the wedding guests again. “Anyone here to interfere will be measuring that distance too.”
For a moment the whole meadow seemed to breathe around them. Laughter drifted on the wind. Music, somewhere farther in. Torches flared softly as the sun hovered at the tree line. Beautiful, on its face. Fragile underneath.
Hastios started forward first, not because he needed to lead, but because the role he wore demanded it. “Come on,” he said quietly.
Marisa momentarily let the vista before them engulf her. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion. A merging of two cultures in the traditional rites of matrimony. She wondered if the bride and groom loved each other. Or if not, if they had a mutual respect and friendship. That would matter going forward. She glanced over at Hastios, appreciating him and their blossoming relationship. The expression in her eyes softened, then she turned her attention to the world around them.
Her posture grew straighter, haughtier, as she followed Hastios, using him as both her bodyguard and shield. While she did so, she looked around, noting the different groups of people and how they mostly kept apart. Was it just for the wedding, or was this a reflection of underlying problems. The more she looked, however, she noted that the nobility tended to group together more than the lower classes. They appeared to be truly happy for the coming nuptials.
Hastios felt the shift in her before he saw it, that quiet softening at the edge of her attention when her gaze found him. He did not turn fully, did not break character, but his hand brushed lightly against the inside of her wrist as they moved through the trees, a small, private acknowledgement hidden beneath the movement of his cloak. Then he let the moment pass and returned his eyes to the crowd.
The meadow looked like celebration on the surface, but he was already pulling it apart piece by piece. Nobles clustered where influence could be seen. Common guests moved with easier warmth, less concerned with being watched. Kroat military officers kept to the edges in small knots, while Vwaarti attendants drifted nearer the ceremonial path and dais. If someone meant to disrupt the wedding, they would have to cross one of those invisible lines. Hastios slowed his pace slightly, choosing an angle that would place them close enough to see the platform clearly without making them look eager to be near it.
“Watch the people who aren’t watching the couple,” he murmured, low enough for the team alone. “Anyone here for the ceremony will look toward the dais sooner or later. Anyone here for something else will be watching exits, guards, timing.” His gaze moved once over the crowd again, calm and coldly precise beneath the borrowed Kroat face. “That’s where we start.”
The flirtatious energy between the Commander and the Major wasn't lost on Juli. In another time and place, she'd likely be one to find a spot to watch with keen interest, but here they were playing opposing races. The social dynamics between the two, at this time were still a little uncertain.
"Maybe as we approach, the Vwaarti among us should arrive from a different angle," Juli suggested. "If there is some intermingling, we could pretend to be introduced at the wedding to debrief at some point."
Marisa nodded. "We need to stay with our people. I plan to get as close to the dais as reasonable." As a Vwaarti, it made sense, and Marisa felt that would be the most likely place to spot trouble.
The guests arrived, the food was laid out and all was set for the wedding that would bring much needed peace to his world. The Vwaarti Chief stood with a smile as he greeted the guests. It was after all his daughter that he gave away to seal this deal. There was a weight that hung heavy in his heart. As if something was off, or wrong. The Chief chalked this up to the anxiety of losing a child to marriage.
There was something almost palpable in the air. Excitement? Trepidation? Hostility? Fear? It was hard to be certain. Probably a bit of everything. Marisa kept as close to the princess and her family as was reasonable without raising suspicions. They had no idea how the wedding would be disrupted, but watching the bride and groom were safe bets--for now. She pretended interest in the tables of food as she took note of everyone nearby. The area was far too open and there were too many things that could go wrong. All she could do was be vigilant and watch for anything even remotely suspicious. A person who's attention was focused elsewhere. Someone who looked nervous. Someone who was hyper-focused on a member of the wedding party. Someone repeatedly checking a pocket or sleeve. Anything that stood out in some way.
Hastios gave the smallest nod at Juli’s suggestion, because she was right. It made sense socially, tactically, and, most importantly, it made sense to anyone watching. A Kroat officer lingering too close to a Vwaarti noblewoman would draw eyes they did not need. Whatever existed between him and Marisa had no place in the middle of a thousand-year-old wedding they were trying to save.
He let Marisa move toward her people first, allowing a natural distance to form between them before he angled himself toward a knot of Kroat guests near the edge of the meadow. His pace changed as he went, subtle but deliberate. Less Starfleet, less security chief. More northern officer. Slower, heavier, carrying the quiet expectation that people would make room without being asked.
A broad Kroat in a dark ceremonial coat noticed him approaching and gave a respectful dip of the head, his gaze flicking over the medals on Hastios’ chest. “You have travelled far, Colonel?”
Hastios returned the nod with just enough restraint to seem accustomed to it. “Far enough,” he replied, letting the borrowed roughness of the accent sit low in his voice. “The north does not often send men south for warm air and sentimental speeches.”
The Kroat gave a dry laugh, apparently approving of that. “No. But this day matters.”
“It does,” Hastios said, turning slightly so he could keep the dais in view without appearing to stare at it. “Days like this decide more than the couple ever know.”
The other man’s expression sobered at that, his attention drifting toward the gathering families. Hastios watched him in the edge of his vision, listening for the wrong answer, the wrong pulse of feeling, the wrong kind of interest. Nothing yet. Just pride, tension, and the brittle hope of people who wanted peace but had not quite learned how to trust it.
Hastios allowed himself a slow breath and kept scanning. Somewhere in the colour and music and ceremony, someone would not fit. Someone would be watching the wrong thing. His job was to see them before history paid the price.
Korvax stood and watched the events begin to unfurl. He was slightly nervous as he only had one shot at this. Both the window to make the kill and return to the ship would be a fraction of a second. Subconsciously he kept checking his chronometer. He went to do it again and caught himself, and placed his hand in his pocket. Soon the timelines would be converged and the Kroat would be in power. This would lead to 65% convergence a step in the right direction. His hand gripped the weapon in his pocket. There was a group of newcomers that caught his attention. They seemed to be on alert. This could be a problem.
As Marisa made her way through the crowds, she paused from time to time to nod at one Vwaarti or another. She expected that they would respond simply because she was there and she looked important. It allowed her to look around, to notice the patterns. The clusters. The tension. An anticipatory waiting. They wanted this. Needed this. Unification. Peace. New beginnings.
A Joint Post By
Captain Thorrin
Commanding Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Commander Marisa Sandoval
Executive Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Major Hastios Eilfaren
Chief Security & Tactical Officer
Second Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Lieutenant Junior Grade Wyatt Spencer
Chief Operations Officer
Communications Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Lieutenant C'amila Juli
Chief Science Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
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