The U.S.S. Samuel W. Bell docked on Pad C, and everyone disembarked from the ship, stepping onto the station. Celestia looked around, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Oh my, DS9 is a bustling place,” she marveled, taking in the flurry of activity around them.
Jeremy stood beside her, a knowing smile on his face. “This is just the edge of the Promenade,” he said. “It gets even busier the deeper in you go.”
Celestia’s gaze followed the streams of people moving through the Promenade, and she could hardly imagine the station being any more lively.
“But listen,” Jeremy added, his tone becoming more serious, “there are a few things you need to understand while you're here. If you end up going to Quark’s bar, make sure you don’t lose your wallet.”
“Why’s that?” Celestia asked, tilting her head slightly.
“Well,” Jeremy chuckled, “Ferengi are... let’s just say they’re obsessed with money and acquisition. If you’re not careful, they might 'accidentally' hold onto your wallet.”
Celestia blinked, processing the advice, before nodding with a bemused smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Thorax, who had been listening, chuckled. “I’ll make sure to keep my bits safe too.”
Jeremy grinned. “Yeah, Ferengi don’t care whether it’s bits, latinum, or credits—if it’s currency, they’re interested. Just stay alert.”
As the group moved forward, Celestia glanced back toward the ship, still overwhelmed but excited for what lay ahead on the station and in their new journey.
Rarity gasped as she gazed around the Promenade, her eyes sparkling. "Oh my, this would be a perfect area for one of my boutiques! I can already envision it—fashionable gowns for all the diverse beings here!"
Jeremy, smiling but cautious, gently interrupted her excitement. “No offense, Rarity, but the Federation doesn’t deal in currency at all. They work for self-betterment, not for profit. Now, the Ferengi, on the other hand... they’re crafty. And since you're new here, some of them might think you're an easy target.”
Rarity raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. “Crafty? Easy target? Darling, surely not!”
Jeremy chuckled, “They’re just very opportunistic, Rarity. Here’s what I’d recommend instead: I’ll introduce you to the Cardassian tailor named Garak. Maybe the two of you can cut a deal, and he can sell your gowns on the station.”
Rarity’s eyes lit up again. “Ooh, this Mr. Garak sounds lovely! A tailor, you say? I’d be delighted to meet him.”
“Just one thing,” Jeremy added with a grin. “Don’t call him 'Mr. Garak.' He’ll insist you just call him Garak. He’s not one for formalities.”
Rarity nodded, intrigued. “Garak it is, then. I’m eager to see what we can create together.”
Jeremy smiled, glad to see Rarity’s enthusiasm returning. “I think you’ll find him quite the character.”
"I have been asked to show you all to your quarters," Jeremy said, gesturing for the group to follow him. As they started walking, he turned to Rarity. "Rarity, you might want to consider volunteering your services as an interior designer while you're here."
Rarity's ears perked up with curiosity. "Oh? What do you mean, darling?"
Jeremy smiled knowingly. "Well, this station used to belong to the Cardassians during their occupation of Bajor, and, let's just say, their sense of décor can be... a bit unsettling. Some of the beds still have gargoyles carved into the bedposts, and, well, some people have been known to freak out about it."
Rarity blinked in surprise. "Gargoyles on the bedposts? Oh my stars! That is simply dreadful!" She paused, already imagining how she might transform the quarters into something more elegant. "I can't have my friends staying in such barbaric accommodations! Perhaps I should lend a hoof in sprucing things up."
Jeremy chuckled. "I had a feeling you'd think that. Just keep in mind, the Federation has an appreciation for simplicity. But I’m sure you’ll find a tasteful balance."
Rarity gave a determined nod. "Oh, don't worry, darling. I'll bring a touch of grace to this station without overwhelming anyone with extravagance. A perfect challenge!"
As they continued toward the quarters, Rarity was already mentally redecorating.
Jeremy guided Thorax into his quarters, and after taking a glance around, Thorax’s expression shifted into uncertainty. “I... see what you mean,” he said, eyeing the intimidating Cardassian décor. “I might just sleep on the couch or, you know, the floor.”
Jeremy chuckled. “I don’t blame you, Thorax. Cardassians have a very... specific taste in design.”
Turning to the rest of the group, Jeremy continued, “Alright, I’ll pick you all up in two hours for lunch. We’ll head over to the Replimat.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What in tarnation is a Replimat? Sounds like some kind of setup with a bunch of those fancy replicators like we’ve got in the mess hall on the Samuel Bell.”
Jeremy nodded. “That’s exactly what it is. A whole bunch of replicators so everyone can grab whatever they want.”
Luna, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. “Jeremy, perhaps I should return to Equestria, just in case some of my subjects need me during this time.”
Jeremy nodded understandingly. “That might be a good idea, Luna. You’ll know best what’s needed back home.”
As Luna contemplated the idea, Rainbow Dash's attention turned to something else. “What’s a holosuite?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jeremy grinned. “You’ll learn about that tonight. But let’s just say this—it can create anything you want. And I’m taking you all to a special place from my childhood. It doesn’t exist anymore, but in the holosuite, we’ll be visiting ‘Paramount Pizza Palace.’”
Pinkie Pie’s eyes widened. “What’s a pizza?” she asked excitedly.
Jeremy smiled. “It’s an Italian-American dish. Dough rolled flat, covered with tomato sauce, cheese, and any toppings you want. Trust me, Pinkie, you’re gonna love it.”
Rainbow Dash, now fully invested, flapped her wings eagerly. “That sounds awesome! Can’t wait to try it.”
With that, the group began settling into their quarters, their minds buzzing with excitement for the adventures to come, both on Deep Space Nine and beyond.
Just as the newly awakened female Deoxys floated in space, a sudden distortion rippled through the stars, revealing a male Deoxys with dark, aggressive energy surrounding it. Without hesitation, the male attacked, viciously pummeling the weakened female who had just emerged from her dormant state.
Jeremy’s eyes widened as he saw the assault unfold. "No way, not on my watch!" he thought, his anger flaring. Using his telekinetic abilities, Jeremy grabbed hold of the male Deoxys, lifting it into the air. Without wasting a second, he delivered a powerful mental soccer kick straight to its head, sending it spiraling backward through space.
As he delivered the mental blow, Jeremy shouted telepathically, "No! Leave her alone!"
The male Deoxys recoiled, its head dented from the force of the kick, a deep crater now visible on its forehead. It shrieked in rage and pain, realizing it couldn’t win the fight. With a final, spiteful glance, the male Deoxys turned and fled into the void, the imprint from Jeremy's kick growing larger as it vanished into the darkness.
Breathing heavily, Jeremy turned his attention back to the female Deoxys, who hovered weakly but safely. Her voice echoed in his mind: "Thank you. He was the one who trapped me in that dormant state."
Jeremy nodded, still floating in his suit. "You're safe now."
Without a word, the Deoxys extended her hand toward Jeremy, her gratitude shining in her bright, glowing eyes. Then, to his surprise, she reached out and picked up a Pokéball from his pocket with her telekinesis. With a gentle smile, she touched the button and allowed herself to enter the ball.
The Pokéball clicked shut, and Jeremy held it in his hand, staring at it in amazement. "Well, that was... unexpected," he muttered to himself, pocketing the ball.
"You did it, Jeremy," Dax’s voice crackled through the comms. "The system’s safe. For now."
Jeremy took a deep breath. "Yeah, but something tells me this isn't the last we’ll hear of that male Deoxys."
For now, though, Deep Space Nine and Bajor were safe, and Jeremy could breathe a little easier knowing that he had saved the day—once again.
Jeremy stepped back onto the station, his breaths heavy and labored, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. “Damn, that was hard,” he muttered to himself, leaning against the wall for support.
Rose rushed over, her eyes wide with concern. “What the fuck were you doing?”
“Saving your life, thank you very much,” Jeremy replied, a bit more sharply than intended. “You and everyone else’s life.”
Rose’s expression softened. “Oh. Sorry. Please forgive me,” she said sweetly, her tone disarming him.
“Of course, baby,” Jeremy said, giving her a reassuring smile.
Nearby, the group of ponies—Celestia, Luna, Rarity, and the others—watched with a mix of awe and admiration. “Did you really kick that evil Deoxys in the head?” Rarity asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, I did,” Jeremy replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “Not the most conventional strategy, but it worked.”
Rainbow Dash flapped her wings excitedly. “That was so cool! You totally showed that guy who’s boss!”
Applejack chuckled, tipping her hat. “You sure know how to handle a crisis, Jeremy.”
“Let’s just hope there aren’t any more crises like that anytime soon,” Jeremy said, running a hand through his hair. “I could use a break.”
Luna stepped forward, her expression serious. “We’re grateful for your bravery, Jeremy. It seems you have a talent for handling unexpected threats.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather not make a habit of it,” he replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Let’s just focus on relaxing for a bit, alright?”
As the group began to disperse, Jeremy couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of their adventures on Deep Space Nine. But for now, he was content to enjoy the moment, surrounded by friends and allies.
j
As Jeremy ate his snacks, he pulled out his Victor Reader and pressed play after turning it on. The familiar voice began narrating "The Dragon Riders of Pern" by Anne McCaffrey, providing a soothing backdrop to his thoughts.
Just then, Miles O’Brien spotted him from across the replimat. “What the hell was that back there? Those things?” he asked, concern etched on his face.
Jeremy looked up, momentarily distracted from the story. “They are a type of Pokémon called Deoxys.”
“Is that what came out of that stone containing that green gel that’s been in our lab for three months?” Miles queried, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, um, if you see one of those again... don’t pick it up,” Jeremy advised, his tone serious. “Jetison it as far away as you can—preferably in the Gamma Quadrant. Male Deoxys are... well, they are violent. That one could have rocked your station just to get to it.”
Miles frowned, processing the gravity of the situation. “And that technique you used? The spirit bomb?”
Jeremy shrugged, a wry smile creeping onto his face. “Don’t ask.”
With that, he took another bite of his cream horn, the sweet taste grounding him as he returned to the pages of Pern, grateful for the momentary distraction from the chaos.
Miles raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jeremy's phone. “What happened to your phone? Why did it turn orange, and why is it floating?”
Jeremy smiled, realizing what Miles was referring to. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Rotom, I need you back in your Pokéball, please.”
“Aw, man! Come on, Jeremy, let me stay in this phone a little longer!” Rotom exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “I’ve dreamed of this for so long!”
Jeremy chuckled, appreciating Rotom's excitement. “Well, okay, if it means that much to you. You can stay in control of that phone as long as I have it.”
With a playful sigh, Rotom settled back into the phone, and Miles shook his head, a smile creeping across his face. “Just another day on the station, huh?”
“You know, if I had enough Rotoms, we could power the pads and some of the tools with their abilities,” Jeremy said, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “With your knowledge and their skills, we’d be unstoppable.”
“I prefer my tools non-spirited, thank you,” Miles replied, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Jeremy flashed a teasing smile. “Party pooper,” he joked, downing the last of his cherry limeade.
“Well, I don’t have blood sugar issues, but just to be safe,” Jeremy continued, “since I lifted four tons of energy, I borrowed my friend’s FreeStyle Libre, and it said my blood sugar was 30.”
“Yikes! Good thinking getting cherry limeade and some doughnuts,” Miles replied, eyes wide.
Jeremy chomped down on the last of his cream horn. “Yum! I love a good cream horn with a bit of powdered sugar in the cream,” he exclaimed, savoring the treat before devouring his doughnut. After wiping his mouth, he bid Miles farewell, feeling satisfied and ready for whatever adventure awaited him next.
Jeremy found Garak and brought up Rarity, mentioning her boutiques and asking if he would mind selling some of her gowns to discerning customers.
“You know, I was just considering getting into women’s fashion,” Garak replied, intrigued. “And you say her name is Rarity? She’s a fashion designer?”
“She is,” Jeremy confirmed. “She’s the foremost couture specialist from her world.” He then showcased some of the stunning gowns Rarity had made. “She’s from the planet Equestria, and, as such, she’s a pony.”
As Jeremy led Garak to Rarity's quarters, Rotom displayed images of Rarity's gowns for Garak to admire.
“My word!” Garak exclaimed. “These gowns are simply stunning! They would look good on any life form… well, except for Klingons, Breen, and Jem'Hadar. But most races would look fantastic in these dresses. They’re elegant and chic!”
Jeremy pushed the doorbell, and Rarity answered almost immediately.
“Rarity, this is Garak. Garak, this is Rarity.”
“Your dresses are divine! I love them!” Garak said, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Like I was telling Admiral Dillahay, your outfits are beautiful. I would be honored to sell your work for a 10% profit margin.”
“Oh, that is rather agreeable,” Rarity responded with a bright smile. “You have a deal.”
Jeremy pulled out a custom contract pad. “To sign your contract, Rarity, I need you to put your hoof right here,” he said, pointing to the designated spot. “And, well, you know what to do.”
Rarity carefully placed her hoofmark on the pad, and Garak followed suit with his thumbprint.
“Okay, Garak, here’s your copy,” Jeremy said, handing over the document. “And Rarity, here’s your copy.”
“I will make arrangements to have your dresses sent to his shop—the ones in the cargo hold,” he added, pleased with how everything was coming together.
“Jeremy, Rarity, you could do the same for him as he is doing for you,” Jeremy suggested, eager to foster a collaborative relationship. “Help him build a following of people who love nice clothes.”
“Garak, what do you say?” Jeremy prodded.
“You know what? Ten percent sounds fair,” Garak replied, nodding in agreement. “That way, everything is even.”
“You have a deal,” Rarity said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Great! I’ll update the contract.” Jeremy made the necessary adjustments on his custom contract pad.
Next, he activated a microdrone ship equipped with some of Garak's clothes displayed on a clothes pole for Rarity to sell. She quickly wrote a note to her employees and sent it along with Garak's suits.
Just then, Jeremy received a ping on his comm badge.
“Admiral?”
“Yes, Major,” Jeremy replied.
“Gol Dukat wants to see you. He’s interested in learning about Earth cuisine.”
“Perfect! If he wants to learn about Earth cuisine, tell him he can help me prepare the meals for the Joining Ceremony,” Jeremy responded enthusiastically. “Quark knows I have Holosuite 4 set up with the kitchen program.”
Jeremy met Dukat at Quark's and led him to Holosuite 4.
“What did you mean when you said I could help you prepare food for the Joining Ceremony tomorrow?” Dukat asked, his brow furrowing in curiosity.
“I need assistance getting ready for a Starfleet Joining Ceremony,” Jeremy explained. “The races of the planet Equestria are officially joining Starfleet tomorrow, and I’m in charge of preparing the food. So, what do you say? It’s the best way for you to learn how to prepare human food, and you get to taste-test what we make.”
“That sounds intriguing,” Dukat replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. “What do you need me to do?”
“Do me a favor,” Jeremy said, gesturing to a giant walk-in freezer to the right. “In there, you’ll find a giant slab of meat. It’s Wagyu A5 beef—the most tender beef in existence.”
“That’s a bold claim,” Dukat said skeptically. “Do you have proof?”
“Well, you’ll see the white spots oozing with Wagyu beef fat,” Jeremy grinned. He handed Dukat a giant knife and continued, “We need to trim the fat.”
“Ooh, I love trimming the fat off meat,” Dukat said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.
“Good,” Jeremy replied. “Now go ahead.”
Jeremy took a small teaspoon of the Wagyu tallow and poured it over a piece of toast as it came out of the toaster. He handed it to Dukat, watching with anticipation.
As Dukat took a bite, his eyes went wide. He was experiencing a full-blown foodgasm. “Ooh! Oh my God! Oh my God!” he exclaimed, smitten. “I am in love!”
Unable to contain his excitement, he grabbed a ladle and a bowl, ladling some of the tallow straight into the bowl. Without hesitation, he drank it straight, savoring the rich flavor.
“Damn, easy man! Geesh!” Jeremy exclaimed, half-laughing, half-shocked. “And I thought I had a foodgasm when I tried it first...”
“Foodgasm?” Dukat asked, looking confused. “What do you mean by that?”
“A foodgasm is a slang term for when food tastes so good that you feel euphoric, almost like you’re getting high from it,” Jeremy explained. “It’s that moment when food transcends just being a meal and becomes a whole experience.”
Dukat chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief but also in newfound understanding. “I can see why you would use that term!” he said, his enthusiasm for the Wagyu beef evident in his voice.
One of Ducat’s new underlings, Gul Dorale, stepped in, phaser in hand. “Ducat, put that fucking gun away!”
Ducatt turned to him, somewhat amused. “Dorale, I heard you shouting?”
“Yes, but not angry shouts! I got introduced to this stuff called Wagyu beef tallow.”
“Wagyu beef?” the other Cardassian asked, eyeing the food skeptically.
“Hey, dude, don’t give that beef your stink eye,” Jeremy interjected, defending the precious meat. “That’s the most expensive, most tender beef on Earth.”
Dorale looked up, intrigued. “It is?”
“This is Wagyu A5 tallow, just rendered,” Jeremy explained, gesturing to the shiny substance. “And this is the beef; the fat we used to render it came from this.”
Doral inspected the beef with growing interest. “That’s a lot of beef.”
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2vcs2zsTis
