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---- | ---- | ||
< | < | ||
- | <fs x-large> | + | <fs x-large> |
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Saratoga**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | Lagrangian points, also known as Lagrange points, are positions within an orbital configuration of two large celestial masses providing the exact amount of centripetal force for a small object (or set of objects) to orbit along with both masses in space in a seemingly fixed position. The long stretch of asteroids along the border between the Federation and Cardassian space was perhaps, the largest and best representation of Lagrangian physics, as it boasted an expansive Lagrange point between two distant stars that rotated slowly relative to the galactic plane. Rocky debris of all compositions had built up in this area since the birth of the galaxy, and when the famed Starfleet explorer, Captain Manuel Cortez first stumbled upon it in the early part of the twenty-third century, it became known as "The Grand Lagrange" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the first coinage of the name in Starfleet navigational databases, so when other similar debris fields were discovered in subsequent decades of exploration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | During the Cardassian border wars of the mid-twenty fourth century, Starfleet captains favored this expansive asteroid field as both a battle refuge and a hiding place from Cardassian battlecruisers patrolling the border. It inherited various name permutations from it's official name, and became tagged colloquially by war veterans with nicknames such as "El Grande", | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good to be back, old friend," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir," the helmsmen returned. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes sir," the Bolian replied, his hands dancing across the console. "That would partially explain what I'm seeing, but not the multiple signals on the same wavelength." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That *is* peculiar," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kramer looked out into the debris field with a raised, skeptical eyebrow. The refractory properties of the region were a double-edged blade, and while he was confident of its ability to mask his own ship's engine signature, he had never found himself on the other side of the fence, trying to decipher whether the field was an ambush-in-waiting for a Federation vessel. Considering that they were at war, the commander didn't want to take the chance. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kramer rolled his eyes. Only removal of a communicator and subsequent lack of informing the computer of your intended whereabouts (such as retiring to one's quarters for the evening) would draw such a response. He knew that if the captain was off the clock, it was because he didn't want to be disturbed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "His quarters," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The chorus of chuckles from the bridge crew was indicative of who was really in charge of the ship. Kramer, being the veteran officer he was, took the reins of command away from the captain more often than not when they were in a tough spot. Especially pending combat. It was obvious that the crew looked up to Kramer more than the young, callow officer that Vice Admiral Kostya promoted as Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alone and despondent, the young Starfleet captain sat in the corner of his personal docked auxiliary vessel, drowning his sorrows with a bottle of an unknown elixir. Since learning of the clandestine affair that his wife was having with his superior flag officer, he fell into a state of resignation and depression, and his incipient career as a starship captain gave way to old habits from when he was a junior officer. Quiet and withdrawn as a cadet, his academy years were replete with episodes of turning to distilled spirits to cope with the pressures of Starfleet training. If it had not been for Vladimir Christoff Kostya taking him under his wing, he would not have passed his final examination and receive his full commission. He owed Kostya his career, but now it seemed, payment would be in the form of the woman he dearly loved. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hunched over in a passenger seat, he glumly poured himself another glass. The only woman he ever cared for was not who she claimed to be. He had so many dreams and aspirations for a beautiful future with his one true love, and in less than an hour, it all came crashing down around him. His review of the personnel locator logs on his specialized, | ||
+ | |||
+ | He considered the glass of amber liquid he just poured, reflecting upon the life he had lived up to that moment. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Red alert! Captain to the bridge! All hands to battle stations!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | With alcohol dripping from his face onto his shirt, the partially inebriated captain stood up and stumbled over to the yacht' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the ship shook violently, Shannon had already been on edge. She was in the Ten Forward lounge searching for her husband, the captain, when orange blasts of Cardassian dreadnaught weaponry danced across the shields outside the viewport. After the alert sounded, she consulted the ship's computer to find out the location of the young skipper, but due to his removal of his combadge, she was unsuccessful. Frantic, the young newlywed lieutenant junior grade returned to the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Approaching the table slowly, the blinking monitor of the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | From the evidence in the room, it was clear that her husband knew about her relationship with the vice admiral. And considering he had gone missing and was not answering the call to the bridge during red alert, his mental state was dangerously questionable. As the vice admiral had predicted, he was cracking under the pressure - and it was her fault. It didn't matter whether it was Kostya' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With guilt and remorse swirling around in her gut, she picked up the communicator on the table and clutched it in her hand with sadness and regret. A tear fell down her cheek as she closed her hand around the communicator and kissed it before starting to sob. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The distraught young Starfleet captain carefully worked his way into the engineering section with his type-II phaser drawn at the ready. From the sensors on the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Stop right there... captain!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The order came from the pepper-gray haired engineer, who was standing just outside the chief engineer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A white, pulsating light emanated from within the engineer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What YOU should have done a long time ago!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Ah! But I'm NOT a scientist! I'm an ENGINEER! The SARATOGA' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Staring at the panicked young cadet clutched precariously in the crazed engineer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Can you make the choice between life and death?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The choices you and Kostya force people to make are too fuzzy, Maddock!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Maddock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kramer grabbed onto a nearby railing as the ship lurched from another volley of disruptor fire from the Cardassians. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kramer tapped his combadge in frustration. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment of silence passed as the ship lurched again from another attack. Another panel exploded at the rear of the bridge as the soot-smudged helmsman desperately worked his controls to outmaneuver the Cardassians. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"My god..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know," he replied with sober realization. "We have less than five minutes. Evacuate all personnel from the stardrive section, and set up containment fields around engineering. I'm going to try and deactivate it." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The response from the intercom was incredulous. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rubbing his temples, the captain was fully cognizant that these would be his last moments alive. From his point of view, his life as a husband, as well as the Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was clear that the captain had given up any intention of returning alive from engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Returning his attention to the task at hand, the Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fire and smoke permeated the command center, and the condition-red tracer lights pulsated on the walls while a nearby console exploded in a shower of sparks. Bodies of crew were piling up with each attack, and only the ensign at tactical, Kramer, and a lone lieutenant at helm were alive on the bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The negative warble on the tactical station caused the Bolian to shake his head. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The internal sensors are still too damaged to get a positive lock. His combadge is operational, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kramer was distracted as he glanced at the main viewscreen and saw one of the three Cardassian ships splitting off from the main group outside. He then realized the ship was trying to outflank them. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
Line 2787: | Line 2982: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Turoblift, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | Shannon paced the turbolift cab, fretting as to what to do. The revelation of her husband' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And it would all be because of her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The thought tortured her mind, sending waves of panic and agony down each of her nerves, and she frantically went through all the options of how to find the captain. She knew from her operations training that all priority intercom traffic would be routed through the ship's command center during a red alert, so if her husband used any intercom within the past few minutes, the bridge would know about it. Acting on a hunch, she tapped her combadge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I can't find my husband!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the bridge, Commander Kramer knew the fatal danger the captain was in, but didn't want to complicate the situation by telling his wife too much while the ship was in jeapordy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I have to get down there to see him!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You can't! Your husband is very busy, and we're evacuating the stardrive section! You'd just get in the way down there!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was a pause in the conversation while the ship rattled from Cardassian weapon fire. Kramer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"For God's sake! We're at BATTLESTATIONS! Get back to your quarters and stay there until we stand down from red alert! That's an order!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the channel closed, it was clear that she wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stepping off the turbolift at deck twelve, Shannon made a bee-line to the transporter complex. From her point of view, it was the only way she could get into the engineering section with all the activated containment fields. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Quickly turning away, her mind raced as to another course of action. The saucer section cargo transporters were several decks up on deck four, but it then occurred to her that sickbay had one closed-circuit transporter in the isolation lab, separate from the ship's main transporter system. Furthermore, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main sickbay, deck 12, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Doctor Sumak was a white-haired, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Give him ten cc's of chloromydride," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But doctor," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As half Vulcan and half human, the Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We need more biobeds in here," the doctor exclaimed succinctly. Turning to address another medical technician tending an unconscious casualty, he added, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I can' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Doctor Sumak was taken aback. The number of patients flowing into the medical center were too great for a single casualty to hold up valuable bed space. "You can't move him for another two hours?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not with these injuries," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I understand," | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he turned to attend another patient, the doors to sickbay parted once again, except this time, a female lieutenant junior-grade in operations gold strolled through. Looking around the busy sickbay complex, Shannon spotted the chief medical officer and briskly walked up to him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Doctor Sumak recognized the young woman as the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What are you doing here?" he addressed the scarlet-haired lieutenant while quickly striding past her to check on another patient. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I need to use your isolation lab, doctor" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You can tell me," the doctor replied detachedly and with a slight conceited tone while he focused on his patient. It was clear he didn't feel he had time to make small talk with the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I have an important experiment I need to complete," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the doctor put down the tricorder, he moved on to another patient, making it clear to Shannon that their conversation was over. However, Shannon was not so easily dismissed. In a split-second decision, she chose to ignore the doctor, and quickly abscond to the surgical ward hallway that led to the isolation lab. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Noticing the young officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside the isolation lab, Shannon knew that she had to work quickly. Locking the door, she used her electronic skills to disable the opening mechanism before turning her attention to the medical transporter panel. The mechanism was without power due to the ship's alert status, but like all good transporter systems, it had redundant power backups, and in less than thirty seconds she had the system functional again. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, outside in the main ward, the chief medical officer was filled with consternation at having to divide his attention between injured patients and a rouge junior officer locked away in his isolation laboratory. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The image for Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Go into the isolation lab," ordered Doctor Sumak. "Stop the officer in there from doing whatever she's doing and open up the door." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And I'm the chief medical officer giving you a direct order," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very well," the flustered EMH replied before whispering out of existence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reappearing in the isolation lab, the EMH spied Shannon adjusting the controls of the medical transporter to perform an intra-ship transport to main engineering. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Barely regarding the hologram, Shannon simply raised an eyebrow before returning her attention to the control panel. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fat chance, baldy." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The EMH was taken aback. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I really don't have time to deal with you," Shannon became annoyed. Activating the transporter circuits, she stood back as the system began to energize, and a veil of incandescent transporter energy fell upon her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very well," the EMH replied. "You leave me no choice then." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reaching out to grab her, the EMH became caught in the transporter beam, and the confluence of both the holo-emitter and the matter stream produced a colorful cascade of colliding photons that resulted in feedback on the control panel. For her part, Shannon felt the shock of the quantum energy coming in contact with her dematerializing pattern, which sent a surge of pain throughout her entire body. In a scream of agony, the rapidly degenerating mass of semi-solid organic plasma amalgamated with the quasi-matter of the holographic matrix, and an alert horn emanated from the medical transporter console as the system sent a desperate malfunction notification to the user interface. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | An incessant warble emanated from the tactical arch, as if the exclamation triggered a response in the main computer. On the ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | All throughout the smashed bridge, mixed in-between dead bodies and smoldering debris, holographic Starfleet crew whispered into existence and began taking up stations around the bridge, manning positions such as ops, engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Astonished at the spectacle around him, Commander Kramer went livid. "What the hell IS this??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ensign at the tactical arch reviewed his monitors. "The computer activated a multi-band optical subspace uplink to Hellsgate station" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is SUICIDE!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As before, the hologram was unresponsive, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell is going on here?" exclaimed Commander Kramer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main sickbay, deck 12, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | As with the bridge, sickbay was filling up with holographic images of medical technicians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Doctor Sumak was as furious as a half-Vulcan could get. "What the hell is going on here?" he exclaimed. As if to add to the precarious situation, the computer sounded an ominous and confusing alert. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the computer spoke, the sickbay lights flickered, and computer panels blinked on and off in rapid succession. Slowly, each of the malfunctioning holograms in sickbay were transforming as they faded in and out of existence. One by one, each of the individual photonic representations of distinctly different people through the uplink from Hellsgate station, had all became one and the same. Over the course of several seconds, each aberrant hologram reconstructed itself into a replica of a certain scarlet-haired lieutenant junior grade. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the gawking medical staff looking on, they found themselves surrounded by multiple holographic copies of the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the ship rattling from continued Cardassian weapon impacts, the captain watched in disbelief as multiple holographic images of Shannon Harris wandered around engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell is going on here?" exclaimed the traumatized captain. Not only had he failed as a captain and husband, but he had failed to deactivate the generator, and was now facing down over a dozen holographic ghosts of his cheating wife that appeared out of nowhere. Nearly catatonic, he watched with wide-eyed bafflement as one of the Shannon holograms looked him directly in the eye before walking up and placing a hand directly on the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Saratoga** | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Around him, the scorched bodies of his crewmates lay strewn about amongst charred debris, and majority of the smashed consoles were ether burning or completely destroyed altogether. With Commander Kramer manning the helm, he and the ensign were the only living beings left on the bridge. The ineffective holograms, each now bearing the image of the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Damn you, Kostya!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside the ship, the square shape of a lone Saratoga lifeboat hurled itself through the interstellar void as the three Cardassian cruisers converged on the heavily damaged Galaxy Class starship. As the lifeboat catapulted away at break-neck speed, a soft, opaque light washed over the the outer fringes of Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Like a celestial egg hatching for the first time, streams of hyper-accelerated photons preceded a nova-like explosion of color that burst forth from Saratoga' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Lasting only a moment, the awe-inspiring spectacle faded, returning to normal the lifeless, rocky debris of The Very Grand Lagrange. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: First officer' | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Swimming in a cold sweat, the unclothed form of Shannon Harris fluttered nervously underneath the covers, turning over several times on the mattress before sitting up with a start. Her eyes were dilated, and she was breathing heavily. Warily, she looked around herself, analyzing her surroundings in attempt to discern where she was. While the fragmented memories faded quickly away into the background of her mind, lucidity slowly dawned upon her as she realized where she was - and who. She was the assistant chief medical officer on the Republic. Her rank was lieutenant commander, and she was... a hologram. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With that thought, she immediately stopped panting. WHY was she bothering to breathe? For that matter, why was she dreaming? | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon froze as a shiver went up her spine. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I... I mean... John," she nervously corrected herself. "Can you tell me were John is?" As soon as she asked the question, the answer came to her faster than the counselor could answer. He was on deck one, aft. Sitting down at the head of the conference table, facing portside, and having an encrypted conversation on the comm station. His pulse was 78, blood pressure 118 over 69, his body temperature was 37 degrees Celsius, and his breathing rate was approximately 15 breaths per minute. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of course he was. She knew that. She was a hologram. She had instant access to the computer with only a simple thought. Why would she have called the bridge? Was it a vain, instinctive attempt to reinforce the reality of who she thought she was? | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Are you alright?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Not sure if she should talk to John about the recurring dreams, Republic' | ||
Line 2793: | Line 3245: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | The day had come. | ||
+ | |||
+ | His eyes fixed on the darkened ceiling of his bedroom just as they had been for the past six hours, he laid awake, waiting. He had not slept that night; he did not know if he would sleep tonight either. As the computer chime sounded and alerted him that the time was 0830 hours, he thought back over the years that he had spent waiting for this singular moment. Thought back over each and every dark, burning thought born from the darkest depths of his self for nineteen years. Not thoughts of justice, but of vengeance. He did not know if he would ever be able to quench the inferno of pure hatred that existed within himself. He did not know if he would even be able to try. | ||
+ | |||
+ | If ever he were going to find out, it would be today. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Could the darkness within ever be truly satisfied with the civilized justice of the Federation? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Would even the worst acts of vengeance he could conjure be enough to satiate the dark desires that had carved out a niche at the center of his very being? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sitting up from his prone position on the bed as the only woman he had ever allowed himself to love stirred beside him, he both feared what she might think of him should she catch a glimpse of his thoughts. In the same instant, he set that fear aside with the knowledge that no matter how much he loved her, it was not enough to stop him from acting should the opportunity arise. He had been driven by pure fury to risk his existence dozens of times already against numerous surrogates in the hopes of momentarily appeasing the venom within. Here and now with the true object of his malice so close, there was nothing in all creation powerful enough to overwhelm what had become a true need within himself for avengement. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The score had to be settled. The scales had to be balanced. Everything that he was demanded such and no less. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The only lingering question was how such would be accomplished. By the system or his own hand? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rising to his feet, he padded across the small bed chamber and into the adjacent facilities. Staring back at the reflection in the mirror, it was both himself and not. The rage he had fought time and again to hide from those around him seemed somehow visible, if only to him. After a brief sonic shower and a shave to remove his Ash' | ||
+ | |||
+ | One part of him, the orphaned ten-year-old boy who had lost his parents and siblings in part because of Starfleet, were disgusted by them. The duty and honor that was preached about so heavily at the Academy had been part of what had driven his parents to take such stupid risks. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Another part, the man he had become in his time since joining Republic, held them in higher regard. To that man, they were evidence that he could be more than an angry callow youth hell bent on drowning his pain in death, drink and debauchery. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he affixed the rank insignia to his collar and placed the communicator badge upon his chest, he paused to look upon his reflection in the mirror once more. Behind him, Leah Warner stirred from her slumber. She had been distant since his return to Republic last evening, but he hadn't pursued the reason why. At this particular moment in time, he could not afford to focus on anything other than what had been the driving force behind so much of his life thus far. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He had allowed himself to love her, allowed her to know him better than any other person alive. Was that love enough to counter the blackness he could feel engulfing his heart? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning towards her, his inflection was cool and even. Practiced. "Gotta take care uh somethin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | A forced smile broke across her features as she nodded an affirmative response. Nat didn't question the emotional gulf that seemed to be widening between them with each passing exchange. Whatever action or event had spawned this latest hiccup in their relationship, | ||
+ | |||
+ | He was especially grateful for the lack of personnel aboard ship as he moved down the hall. Things such as they were, he simply did not have the energy or concern for the normal pleasantries of a social existence. Pressing the call button for the turbolift, the doors parted instantly -- another benefit of the lack of others aboard. Stepping inside, he called out his destination and waited patiently as the car obediently carried him through the ship. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He had to be prepared should the moment present itself. | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Ananke Alpha**\\ | ||
+ | **Station Time: 0941 hours** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Thirty-two meters. | ||
+ | |||
+ | That distance was all that separated him from his quarry. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Through two sets of unlocked doors and across a lone corridor. His back to the door, the dark thoughts in the back of his mind screamed for him to take action. He had never knowingly had an opportunity such as this before. When he had been on assignment undercover, working along side Faro, he had been ignorant of whom the elder Orion man was. Had he known such back then, he would likely have been killed a few minutes into his assignment. He would have taken Faro's life the first chance he'd had, unconcerned with the retaliation his associates would take directly afterwards. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Feelings the eyes of junior Lieutenant Ragnar ever present on him, Nat kept his visible demeanor as tepid as ever. For all of his bluster and bluntness, he did possess the ability to restrain those emotions he allowed to show through. It was simply a skill he rarely felt the need to utilize. Today was such an occasion when it was necessary to hold things close. He did allow for a portion of what he felt to break through, however. Just enough to demonstrate he was agitated and apprehensive about things. Had he appeared as unflappable as a Vulcan, it would have been a dead giveaway to someone like Ragnar that their was much more going on beneath the surface. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the minutes continued to tick by, he felt as if time was grinding to a halt. Ever the dramatic one, Tom Dorian had used a legal technicality to avoid informing Faro, his attorney, or the court that Hawk was indeed alive. In point of fact the charges that had lead to Faro's capture and detainment were mostly ones that could not be proven. The bulk of them stemmed from the incidents surrounding his death. Only the charge of evading arrest held any water. Since the original charges Faro had been indicted upon had been dismissed without prejudice, though, it had allowed Dorian to play a bit of a legal shell game. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Since Hawk was listed on the original witness list under the original indictments, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The sound of the doors parting open behind him drew his attention with the same effect as a razor blade strumming a violin. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath. From behind him on his left, he felt his shadow Ragnar lean in close. So close he could feel the alien man's breath on him as he spoke. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is unacceptable!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment passed during which nothing was clearly audible. Hawk surmised that the tribunal members were conferring quickly between one another. Finally, the bass-toned voice of the lead member of the tribunal came back with a decision. "Very well, Mister Dorian. You have the courts brief indulgence. Call your witness." | ||
+ | |||
+ | This was it. That was what Tom Dorian had been waiting for. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The prosecution calls the afore mentioned Lieutenant Nathan Hawk..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Moving forward through the double doors that parted at his approach, Nat felt outside himself. An observer rather than a participant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The court room was laid out in a fairly traditional modern style. On either side of the room immediately inside the doors were a gallery of four rows of six seats each designed for observers and concerned parties. A handful of Ananke Alpha personnel were present on either side, most seeming to be of the station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the farthest right-hand corner of the room sat a lonely chair on a raised dais, reminiscent in style to the type reserved for ship commanders: this was the witness stand. The chair was flanked by a stoic looking Vulcan bailiff and two flags, one the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the left side of the room, mirroring Dorian' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he came to a stop between the defense and prosecution tables, Nathan Hawk met the man's stare with one of his own. One overflowing with such loathing that if a look could kill, it surely would have. It took every fiber of his being to stay the course and hold back from throwing himself across the room at this, the man whom had murdered his entire family. | ||
+ | |||
+ | This man was Keevan Faro, one of the leading members of the Orion Syndicate. A criminal king-pin feared across the quadrant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At eighty-nine years of age, he was ancient by Syndicate standards. Had the man been less paranoid and more ambitious, he could have easily risen to the position of Fel' | ||
+ | |||
+ | If not for Faro's extreme paranoia, he too, would have likely been taken out upon his first indictment. Only the legend surrounding a supposed ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "-this is absurd! This man can not possibly be whom the prosecution claims him to be! I must protest this totally unethical--" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With Venk's rant abruptly ended, the diminutive Ferengi sat down in his seat as the entire court room fell into silence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dorian, for his part, did not look in the least bit chastised as he responded, "This is no stunt, your honor." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pausing for a moment to let his statement sink in, Dorian then went on. "Your honors all know how exceptionally momentous this particular case is to the ideals of law and order throughout the quadrant. It is the result, in some circles, of decades of work. The highest levels of Starfleet and the Federation Security Council itself have been kept well apprised, and have authorized many of the actions taken in it's pursuit. For decades, we have lost operatives and witnesses and defendants alike in case after case brought against members of the Orion Syndicate. Here, finally, we have achieved the impossible only by means of extraordinary risk and sacrifice." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Gesturing once more at Hawk, he emphasized his point. "This man has literally given his life in the pursuit of justice. I want you to understand what I mean by that, because I don't mean that he was simply ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Gesturing next to Leon in the gallery, Dorian went on to say, "This man here, Doctor Leon Cromwell, a colleague and friend, tried desperately to save him and despite all of his medical expertise and experience, was unable to do so. It was only through bizarre and amazing medical science and incredible planning and forethought by a number of individuals, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thus, I beg the court to understand and accept that on virtually every level, this case is based out of extraordinary and perhaps even unimaginable circumstances." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leaning back in his seat, Admiral Henry appeared contemplative for a moment. Tom Dorian had not technically violated any laws in any of what he had done, but he had pushed the limits of a number of proper procedures and ethical standards. It was a gamble that would either pay off ten fold, or one for which Dorian would lose more than just his shirt on. Taking in a deep breath, Henry exchanged looks with his compatriots on the tribunal, both of whom were virtually inscrutable. Though the curving forward tilt of the Andorian admiral' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, Henry finally began shaking his head in an affirmative fashion. "You make a very compelling, very dramatic argument, Mister Dorian. One which under lesser circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your honor, I must object!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Admiral Henry, already weary of the tiresome Ferengi, nodded as he held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Your objections are dually noted for the record, Counsel Venk. They are also overruled. If nothing else, take solace in the fact that such may provide your client with grounds for appeal, should he in fact be convicted." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Displeased and more than likely fearful of his own client, Venk returned to his seat, leaning as far away from Faro as he could manage without looking wholly indiscreet. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a single affirmative nod, Hawk did as instructed, moving across to the forward right corner of the room. Stepping up onto the raised dais, he took his seat and placed his hand atop the illuminated panel at his right hand. Immediately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an affirmative response tone, the machine replied, //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Raising an eyebrow, Henry glanced at Hawk briefly, then prompted the machine again, "Did any of these infractions result in formal charges?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then continue." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Again, the machine hesitated a moment before complying, almost as if trying to rationalize Hawk's record. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the readout finally complete, Hawk removed his hand from the illuminated biometric reader. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You may proceed, Mister Dorian," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tom Dorian remained seated behind the prosecution table as he began his questioning. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding, Hawk realized such would not be an accepted response, and so fumbled to vocalize, "Yes, we do." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And what is the nature of that relationship?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shrugging slightly, Nat answered. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The current Chief of Starfleet Security," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "He served as ma legal guardian fer about a year an a half, when I was sixteen." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Why was it necessary for you to have a legal guardian at that time?" Dorian asked as he rose to his feet placing his hands upon the surface of the table before him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "My Aunt 'n Uncle, ma only livin' family, were killed in a shuttle accident. Pilot error." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pausing for effect, Dorian carried on his line of questions. "What happened to your parents, Lieutenant?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Daring to look across the room and upon the seething visage of Keevan Faro, Hawk replied, "They were killed in the line uh duty. Murdered, matter uh fact, by the defendant." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this, Faro's attorney sprang once more to his feet. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding in the affirmative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Re-directing his focus to Hawk, Dorian kept at it as he stepped around the table in front of him and took a few steps forward. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Even more on edge since his families names had been spoken, something Hawk himself had not done in longer than he cared to admit, the darkness he had buried for so long beginning to boil. "A few weeks after ma extraction from an undercover operation that put me in direct contact with the defendant." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Seeing this, knowing this, Tom Dorian took another step forward as if to block his view of the other man, and pressed on. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | He had known the questions Dorian would ask, had known the strategy behind them, but hearing his families names spoken aloud in the presence of the monster whom had slaughtered them was more difficult than he had expected. Perhaps because he had always been so unwilling to discuss them, even to voice their names himself. Perhaps because the most primal part of himself was thrashing against the chains, rampaging to be let loose. "Yes sir," Hawk replied through gritted teeth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you, Lieutenant," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Raising one eyebrow slightly, Admiral Henry nodded in acknowledgement. "An unusual strategy, Mister Dorian. Impugning the credibility of your own witness before defense counsel can do so, so as to demonstrate the veracity of his previously sworn testimony. I must have missed that trial strategy during law school." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dorian tipped his head, a small smile creeping over his features as he responded, "It has the virtue of having never been tried." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding his head quickly in an the affirmative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | As each admiral looked over the contents of the PADDs before them, Venk attempted to share the data with his client, only to have the PADD slapped away by his displeased client. This prompted one of the two guards flanking him to take a warning step forward, but Faro had no intent of actual action. He was simply furious and uninterested. Skimming over the data, Venk quickly became confused and set the device down roughly on the table top before him, crossing his arms over his chest. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For their part, the members of the tribunal seemed much more interested in the contents. After a few moments, Tenaris leaned over towards Henry and conferred a whispered statement. Henry in turn leaned towards the balding Trill, Admiral Jenik Ral, and repeated the gesture and presumably the whispered statement. In response, Ral nodded his head in agreement as he kept his eyes on the PADD. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The court will need time to examine and verify this evidence before we can continue," | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the tribunal rose from their seats and moved towards an exit directly behind them, the two security officers flanking Faro roused him from his chair, getting a bit rough when he attempted to thrash them away from him. Taking him by each arm, they lead him quickly from the court room as his attorney fumbled to collect a number of thicker Ferengi PADDs while keeping up with them. For his part, Nathan Hawk remained seated in the witness chair as Tom Dorian approached. "I think that went well," he offered as he watched Faro being lead out, and across the hall into the anteroom Hawk had occupied earlier. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I dunno if I can do this, Tom," Nat replied in a quiet voice, his eyes focused on the door that Faro had just exited through. "Ya dun know how hard it is, ta sit here with him 10 meters away. How hard it is not ta just..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Placing his hand on Hawk's shoulder, Dorian crouched down to meet him at eye level. " | ||
+ | Shaking his head from side to side, Hawk looked away off into the distance that wasn't there... | ||
Line 2799: | Line 3450: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | As the legal proceedings resumed in the wake of the extended recess, one key figure in the midst of the days drama was noticeably absent. With his testimony unable to be resumed until after the tribunal had heard testimony affirming the data provided by the prosecution, | ||
+ | The first individual to be called was the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a chirp of acknowledgment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What was the official cause of death?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Clearing his throat, Leon answered, "A molecularly engineered poison, in conjunction with severe physical trauma suffered as a result of multiple stab wounds." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Is this type of poison common?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Cromwell shook his head from side-to-side briefly, as he answered, "No. In fact, it's quite unique." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Quite unique and quite lethal, am I correct?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon replied by talking with this hands, gesturing to the space before him as if to provide physical example to his verbal explanation, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In stasis, vital life functions are slowed, but not actually stopped. Even this minimal metabolic activity would have allowed the toxin to continue to inflict damage, negating the use of stasis." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In other words, if the Lieutenant had only been stabbed, stasis would have been a viable method of sustaining his life functions until the damage could be repaired?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Placing his arms behind his back, Tom Dorian paced across the open space at the center of the court proper before he moved on to his next line of questions. "For the record, Doctor, were you part of the initial team that reanimated Lieutenant Hawk?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shaking his head from side to side, the doctor replied, a twinge of a sour note evident only to his voice for those who knew him, "No, I was not." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You were and remain the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I am, yes." Cromwell confirmed for the court. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the record then, Doctor, could you please review for the court the details of the reanimation procedure." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a deep breath, Leon launched into the narrative explanation he'd prepared for the court. "To begin with, a strain of synthetic reverse-engineered Borg nanoprobes were cultivated from a standard stock culture originating with Starfleet Medical. The biomechanical programming was performed by the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "From there, the second stage is triggered when the cells begin to undergo apoptosis or autophagy, which can naturally occur during quiescence. In this stage, the nanoprobes re-enable cell interphase, allowing natural mitosis to resume for a healthy cell. Should the cell have been damaged during quiescence and accelerate its apoptosis, the nanoprobes were programmed to integrate themselves into the membrane or cytoplasm proper, and directly support cellular metabolism throughout interphase and mitosis. This second stage would effectively reverse the appearance of death over a course of time dictated by the extent of tissue damage in a dying organism. After re-animation, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I must object," | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the diminutive man offered nothing further following his objection, Admiral Henry graced him with a questioning look, as he asked, "On what grounds, Mister Venk?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shifting his feet, the Ferengi was clearly nonplused by the barrage of medical babble that had been offered as testimony, but clearly wasn't keen on admitting such. Slowly sitting back down in his seat, he lowered his voice even further as he withdrew his objection. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You may continue, Mister Dorian," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Silently acknowledging, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If this procedure is capable of reanimating someone up to eighteen hours after death has occurred, why hasn't it been utilized more often?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pausing for a moment, Leon considered his response for a moment before voicing it. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding in understanding, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Directing his gaze towards the defense, Admiral Henry inquired, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A hint or irritation seeping into his tone, the lightly-lobbed attorney re-phrased. "Why were you not part of the team that undertook such an auspicious medical undertaking, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Caught off-guard by the unexpectedly incisive question, Leon struggled for an answer. He knew the reasons he had been kept in the dark. However, they were buried deep into situations and realities that were he to delve into, would be akin to pulling at a thread of a rather large and complicated tapestry. How could he explain that his commanding officer had sought to insulate himself as well as her first officer from any recriminations from the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | To tread into any of that would be to shine a spot-light on things that they had little proof of outside of their own experiences, | ||
+ | |||
+ | His response was a permutation on the defense 'I was only following orders' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Though obviously dissatisfied with the response, the Ferengi seemed also aware that he had probed into a sensitive area that could yet benefit his client, and so Venk accepted the answer. "I believe I'll do just that, Doctor. When the time comes." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stepping back from Cromwell, he addressed the court as he moved back to his seat. "No further questions." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The witness is excused," | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Leon stepped down from the witness stand and returned to the court gallery, he exchanged glances with his commander, and hoped that she could find a legal way to answer Venk's question when it came. | ||
Line 2805: | Line 3544: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | Waking up in a strange place is bad enough, but waking up with a splitting headache, a missing partner, and a trashed secret identity brings the concept of karma and serendipity to a whole new level. Dragon still had no idea who it was that cut his lifeline back at Starfleet Intelligence, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Since his unique vocation in covert operations effectively erased his Federation citizenry credentials from the UFP civilian databanks, Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Cutting one's lifeline - while an effective measure to keep intelligence agents from defecting - left Dragon in a precarious situation. He had no credit account, no passport, and no means to prove who he said he was. Whenever his genetic scan was run through a typical commerce transaction, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Blank. As in " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of course, there were worse places to have one's lifeline cut than Farius Prime. Had it happened in the Federation, Dragon would have spent the next year and a half in at a penal colony or refugee processing center while immigration tried to figure out what to do with him. If it had happened in the Triangle, he probably would have been Shanghaied by pirates trying to run a blockade at a Klingon mining station resulting in his innards being scattered across the entire sector from a plasma torpedo. | ||
+ | |||
+ | However, on Farius Prime, it was neutral territory between all the major powers, and most importantly, | ||
+ | |||
+ | That was four months ago. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Dragon stood in the cramped and smelly public communications alcove, the rain pouring down on top of the metal roof was providing a nuisance-filled background static to the glitchy subspace transceiver screen in front of him. Displayed was the gruff, grizzled face of one of the Klingon junior officers that rescued him months ago from the Romulan kidnapping attempt. The Klingon was speaking in the abrasive undertone that most lower members of the Imperial Navy exhibit when they were being asked to do more than they bargained for. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon would not back down. "Look Atul, your ship is eighteen parsecs from here. Talk to your captain. Maybe he can swing by Farius Prime again and..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What about the joint-services channel?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I was nearly condemned to cleaning the plasma conduits for wasting my duty time on the subspace transmitter in order to make your call to Starfleet. Your black-uniformed kinsman had no interest in talking to us. It seems that they believe that Doug Forrest is alive and well, and living on Sol Nine."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Sol Nine?" Dragon asked quizzically. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Sol nine... sol nine," muttered Dragon, searching his distant memory. "Wait a minute! That's Pluto!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon finally put two and two together. Desperately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"If that's the case, I guess that dabo girl I caught you with on Ferenginar seven years ago is in for a big surprise..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dismissing the Klingon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "When you get within communications range of Earth, send an encrypted message to a guy named ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"No promis..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The image of the Klingon was abruptly replaced by a black screen displaying the words " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No no NO!" he mumbled to himself while pulling out a handful of Farian coins. Sifting through ten and fifty-unit pieces, he was unable to find enough money to deposit in the currency receptacle before the Klingon on the distant end gave up and disconnected. Frustrated, Dragon switched off the communications console and opened the door to the alcove. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I can't BELIEVE this!" he muttered as he made his way back out into the drenched sidewalks of Tajora Street. With tropical rain dribbling down his face, Dragon swore to himself. "If I ever find the p'tak who cut my lifeline..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Returning to his run-down studio flat above the Galldean Roost tavern, sixteen weeks of failed attempts to communicate with contacts inside the Federation were etching lines of frustration into the forehead of the former intelligence operative. While Dragon was thankful to his Klingon benefactors for coming to his aid during the kidnapping attempt, he could feel that his favors running out with each communique. Making his way past the bar, he barely gave a wave to the bartender before climbing a set of steps in the back that led to a drab, trash-strewn hallway above the tavern. Stopping at the fourth door down, he pressed his thumb into the electronic latching mechanism. The door swung open only to reveal the suave figure of Cheshire, the Bajoran trill who accompanied Dragon and McTaggart to Farius Prime seven months ago. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Still no luck?" she asked, standing in the doorway of the cramped apartment. Another of Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of course, Dragon had yet to forgive her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | For her part, Cheshire' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Big mistake by him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | By the time she reached Farius Prime, the captain was in a coma, her credit account had been frozen, and customs roughed her up to the point where she barely escaped arrest. Since then, she stayed in the shadows, watching Sean and Doug from a distance until the Romulan snatch operation threatened to deep-six them both. Needless to say, Dragon hadn't quite forgiven her for enlisting Atul and Borak to come to the rescue. While she could have found her way off Farius Prime herself to clear her name on Ferenginar, she stayed planetside out of loyalty to Dragon, and perhaps, a chance to redeem herself. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You should be nice to me," the Bajoran trill purred. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Where the hell have YOU been?" blurted Dragon, taking a few more steps forward towards his old comrade in arms. "I sent a message out to you months ago! Did you just get it NOW?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not exactly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon gritted his teeth. "If I ever find that weasely Arcturian I paid to send the message over the Federation comnet, I' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What? Cromwell?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the two got re-acquainted, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I see you met Delores," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In more ways then one," the doctor replied sourly, rubbing his bruised ribs. Looking around the cluttered abode, he added "if you're here, where' | ||
+ | |||
+ | A tense silence filled the room. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "They got him, Shadow," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal was apologetic. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, the former intelligence agent silently shook his head and tossed the damp towel onto a nearby chair. Clearing a few items off a table, he inspected a trio of semi-clean glasses and was preparing them for drinks. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What brought you here in the first place?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "When Sean and I first left Republic, we had a two-fold mission: find Kuga, and track down the source of the Gorn poison. The first part was easy. Sean and I split up for a few days. He worked on the Gorn poison while I traced Kuga's trail to the Gamma Quadrant. I found out that one of our intel contacts were already on the job - a guy named Livingston on the USS Coeus. One of Kostya' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The old man said something about that," Saal commented about his brief communique from their old supervisor in the shuttlecraft. "But they didn't arrive at DS9 until a few months ago." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yeah, well it was traveling at warp one-point-five. Anyway, the Merchant Marines stopped it a few parsecs out of Kafaria and did a customs inspection. They came up with nothing." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal looked unconvinced. "One freighter? That doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It isn't unless you take into account that Kafarians have no consulate or trade agreements with the Orions," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I remember," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon frowned, shaking his head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Gorn poison is a top priority for Fleet intel," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yeah, well THAT Dragon never lost a partner in the field. You're living proof. Besides, without my lifeline, I have no intel downlink and I there no way Ramius would give me the information twice." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Intel didn't have me implant those cybernetics in your head for nothing," | ||
+ | |||
+ | There were times that Saal knew more about Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Dragon thought about the Kafarian freighter, he easily calculated the astrometric data for the easiest course from Kafaria to Farius Prime via Deep Space Nine. There were numerous stellar and deep space anomalies that perturbed the course, and using educated guesses of the delay time, he came up with a round-about figure. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "One month," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Think harder," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal knew that by focusing the implant processors for a higher level of precision, they would automatically access the implicit memory buffers. Without Dragon realizing it on a conscious level, an obscure flight plan that he and Sean briefly glanced at over seven months ago on DS9 was mixed in with countless other cargo manifests and sensor logs. The flight plan floated to the front of his mind, and on it, an anticipated arrival date came forth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You should see him give an M-6A a run for it's money," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That was two days ago," Dragon ignored the comments, focusing on the new data. "The cargo must have already been offloaded." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, but probably held over at the customs processing center," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If I had to guess, they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I can tap customs," | ||
+ | " | ||
Line 2811: | Line 3708: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | //" | ||
+ | As the computer completed it's recitation of her minimalized service record, Captain Kim Roth kept her chin up as the old saying went, with the grace and dignity afforded her both by her own spirit and her rank. She had known and accepted years earlier that the single glaring blight on her otherwise unmarred and efficient record would follow her until and even beyond the end of her days. Though she was never pleased to have a spotlight shown upon such, she didn't shy away from it either. It simply wasn't who she was. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Tell the court, if you would, what lead you to plan for the eventuality of one of your own officers being murdered." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a deep breath in, Roth began, addressing her focus primarily to the tribunal. "When I took command of Republic, I was made aware by Starfleet Command that the ship's Helmsman had been restored to active service in Starfleet for his own protection. Specifically, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without missing a beat, Roth picked up were she had left off. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Spotting his cue from a kilometer away, Dorian asked the question he was supposed to. "What happened ten months ago to cause you to reach that conclusion?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she recalled the events of their mission to Sigma Omicron V at the beginning of that year. "The Republic had been assigned to investigate a number of unexplained events occurring on a terraforming outpost located on planet Sigma Omicron V, near the Tholian border. Upon our arrival, I assigned Lieutenant Hawk to lead the away mission. Things initially proceeded in as standard a fashion as any away mission with such a task before them. However, in the midst of the mission, one member of the away team turned against the rest. The individual in question was our own newly assigned Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Hranok. Or so we had been lead to believe." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In truth, the individual was a con-man named Evok out of New Sydney whom had impersonated the real Lieutenant Hranok in order to get close to Lieutenant Hawk. Initially, it was only his own greed that prevented him from killing Hawk. Apparently, the bounty being offered by the Syndicate was double if Hawk could be captured alive. Unfortunately for him, he underestimated just how resourceful and resilient trained Starfleet officers can be. The away team was able to turn the tables on their captor, and though things were somewhat complicated in orbit by the presence and aggressive actions of a number of Tholian ships, they were able to return to the ship." Roth concluded, tagging off back to Dorian in the loosely arranged manner they had devised the day before. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Catching the line cast to him, Dorian asked his next question. "That certainly explains why your opinion changed on the matter of standard ship-board security being adequate protection. Why not develop a plan that enhanced that security, though? Why go to such extreme lengths and devise a plan that actually required the Lieutenant' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Crossing her right leg over her left at the knee, Roth leaned back in the chair a bit. "In point of fact, I did take steps to increase ship's security as well as to minimize the possibility of anyone else with designs on the Lieutenant' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shifting positions as he leaned back against the table, Dorian continued their verbal choreography. "I suppose that all does make sense. How, though, did you arrive at the conclusion to utilize synthetic Borg nanoprobes to undertake such an ethically questionable reanimation procedure?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And how did this individual come to that conclusion?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The only other instance of this procedure being performed was aboard the Starship Voyager during her time in the Delta quadrant..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As my Chief Medical Officer testified, the procedure is heavily classified. Only a handful of individuals at Starfleet Medical even have access to the scientific data. As Voyager' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Recovering from the surprise he felt, and realizing that both his own evident shock coupled with the esteem and admiration many felt for Janeway had helped to bolster the legitimacy of this procedure considerably, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the gallery, Leon Cromwell had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He had always thought Bashir' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Tom Dorian prepared to ask his final question of Captain Roth, he took a few steps forward and to the left. His back to the Republic commander, he looked directly at the defendant as he queried: "One last question, Captain. Was there anything else you sought to accomplish with this plan, besides saving Lieutenant Hawk's life?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this question, Roth herself allowed a tiny smile to play at the corners of her mouth, as she too directed her gaze in the general direction of the defendant. "As a matter of fact, yes. It was hoped that the party responsible for murdering the Lieutenant would promptly report their success back to the Alpha quadrant via subspace. That such an affirmative report would lead the defendant, whom had escaped custody and fled civilization out of fear of prosecution, | ||
+ | |||
+ | One didn't need a medical tricorder to note the physical effects this revelation wrought upon the green-skinned Orion. The deep green hue of his skin flushed a dark evergreen, as a vein in his forehead visibly pulsated beneath his thin, aged skin. Having Hawk show up alive and well in court this morning had enraged the elder man fiercely. Learning that there had been a plan in place to resurrect Hawk before his latest assassin had ever come aboard had added much fuel to that fire. Now, to find out just how completely he had been made a fool of by these cloying, pathetic, weak Federation children was nearly enough to send him over the edge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leaping from his seat quicker than anyone over the age of sixty had a right too, he slammed his fists down upon the desk with enough fury dent the metal surface. Most everyone in the court was startled by the outburst, accept for the guards directly behind him. Before his outburst tantrum could go any further, each of the guards grabbed hold of his diminutive upper arms with thick hands that conveyed each man's considerable strength and stature. The only person in the court who didn't offer any reaction was Thomas Aidan Dorian, whom had never so much as flinched in response to Faro's sudden action. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course, your honor. My apologies," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Keeping his eyes locked upon Faro's for a few moments longer, Dorian finally turned back towards the tribunal. "No further questions, your honor." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the prosecutor returned to his seat, the defense counsel in the form of a very anxious looking little Ferengi rose to his feet and took a moment to straighten the lapels of his rather subdued business suit. At least, subdued for a Ferengi. Though it lacked any of the garish colors or patterns commonly donned by most of his race, the outfit was certainly Ferengi in cut. Long lapels trailed behind to just above his knees, the chest over-exposed with the front end of the jacket cut far too high. Capped off with an over-sized gold-pressed latinum clasp that held the suit jacket closed and equally gaudy cuff-links in the form of miniature bars of the economic unit of currency. It was a design singular to his race. Only the dark tones and thin pin-striping allowed him to resemble a serious lawyer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Where is this individual?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Roth paused for a moment before explaining, "He took his own life rather than be captured." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How unfortunate," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Roth fought the urge to sigh, and indeed defeated it, as she responded, "No. She was, herself, killed by an undercover intelligence officer whom had been tasked with protecting Lieutenant Hawk." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On the contrary," | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this, the pint-sized Ferengi smiled a sharp, jagged, toothy grin. It was the face not even a mother could love. "Why did you allow Lieutenant Hawk to remain aboard the Republic once his location was known such unscrupulous individuals?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Roth considered the question, perhaps consciously for the first time, before answering. She knew the answer, but wasn't eager to explain her motivations to this scum-sucking lawyer. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Roth offered a forced smile of her own. "While I'm appreciative of my CMO's deference in not wishing to speak for me, I'm happy to tell you the same thing I told him when he asked me more or less that same question a number of months ago. The Republic is a fine ship, but she's been through a hell of a lot. She's lost a great many of her senior officers time and again to transfers and tragedy. She even lost her first commander, my immediate predecessor, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Clearly disappointed with her response, he favored her with a less enthusiastic (and as a result, less toothy) smile. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very well," remarked Admiral Henry from the bench. "The court will take a fifteen minute recess," | ||
Line 2817: | Line 3804: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | A thin tendril of gray smoke rose up from a charred black circle of scorched fabric and flesh set mid-center upon the chest of the green-skinned corpse. | ||
+ | The unmoving body, his eyes wide with shock, was sprawled out across the court room floor next to the up-ended defense table. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the focus of attention for every person gathered in the court room. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Including the man whom had inflicted the mortal wound who still stood at the threshold separating the gallery from the court proper, the compact form of a type-two hand phaser still clutched in his right hand. Still aimed at the dead alien' | ||
+ | |||
+ | That man holding the phaser was Lieutenant Nathan Hawk. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The dead man was the defendant, Keevan Faro... | ||
+ | |||
+ | ...He had moved with the speed of a man one-quarter his age, the agility and strength of a champion athlete. It had been a dizzying array of maneuvers that had been impossible to follow, both due to the haste of their delivery and the surprise at their source. The old Orion man had propelled himself backwards in his seat by kicking off the table before him with both legs. His boney elbows had caught each of his guards in the abdomen, knocking the breath from their lungs and forcing each to double over. Before either could recover their senses, the Orion had followed up on the first strike by slamming his fists into the base of either guards skulls. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before anyone else in the court room could begin to react, the aged green-skinned alien had dropped from his chair to his knees between the two. With the practiced grace and ease of a skilled pick-pocket, | ||
+ | |||
+ | In response to the phaser fire, the automated security of Ananke Alpha had kicked in to high-gear. Every point of entry to the court room had clanked with the activation of mechanical locks as force-fields sprung up around them. An alert siren had blared to life, sounding a pulse of three deep unfamiliar tones as the computer announced the lock-down and switched to a ghostly red emergency lighting. Nearly everyone in the court had hit the deck, ducking down for cover on instinct incase the Orion began to fire wildly. One of the few people who had not done so was Nathan Hawk. The star witness had just entered the court room to begin his testimony flanked by his shadows, Ragnar and Nort, each of whom had whipped out their own phasers in response. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Seeing this from behind his Tellarite humanoid-shield, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Ragnar, an accomplished marksman, fired a shot in return at the Orion. The beam barely missed by centimeters, | ||
+ | |||
+ | And missed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Having nearly forgotten about the Vulcan, Faro kept one phaser pushed deep into the back of his hostage as he directed the other towards the bailiff, who was crouched behind the witness chair for cover. His fired and missed with his first shot, and knew he was likely to miss with a second so long as the Vulcan had cover. Increasing the charge setting to maximum, Faro's second shot didn't even try to hit the Vulcan -- but instead made haste of the witness chair, vaporizing it in an instant. Before the Vulcan could seek out new cover, Faro had swapped the high-set phaser into his hostage' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the Vulcan vanquished, Faro pushed the upended metal table within reach of his Tellarite hostage, before ordering him to move it further in front of himself. Silence had then fell upon the court room for the moment. As it did, everyone took stock of themselves and each other. Prosecutor Dorian and Faro's own attorney, the Ferengi Venk, were crouched behind the up-ended prosecution table. Captain Roth, Leah Warner and Doctor Cromwell on the floor in front of their seats in the gallery, wishing their own shadow security officers were present as they had been earlier rather than across the hall in the ante room. Four more phasers would have made a hell of a difference right now. Only five native personnel from Ananke Alpha had remained through the recess, three engineers and two science officers - none of whom were armed. Which left only junior Lieutenant Ragnar as armed opposition against the murderous Orion. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Or so it had seemed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Half buried under the bulk of his unconscious but still breathing Lurian protector, Nathan Hawk had struggled against every impulse running through both mind and body to remain still. More than anything else in the universe, he had wanted to rise to his feet and charge across the court at the Orion. Instead, he had kept his wits about him, biding his time for the most opportune moment. As he did so, he eyed the sleek form of Nort's type-two hand phaser, which had fallen from his grasp and skittered to a stop beneath a chair less than a meter from Hawk's head. After what had seemed like an eternity of silence, it was the baritone voice of Admiral Henry that had rung out from behind and below the judicial bench. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You could never understand, human!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell are you talking about, Faro!?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Faro, it's over!" Admiral Henry had shouted once more, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You think I want to escape?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Not letting up, he kept on with his analysis. "Then there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a brief pause, the Orion had resumed his tangent. "But we're forgetting the Cardassians. Oh what a wonderful, proud people they were. You managed to guilt them into surrendering Bajor, only to miraculously discover the only stable trans-galactic wormhole within days of taking over! What a coincidence! The commerce and opportunity it could have brought to their empire would have sustained them for centuries! To make sure you held onto that prize, you even had your top Starfleet officer in the sector declare himself speaker for the Bajoran gods! It's unbelievable! That wasn't enough though! Oh no, then you had your lap-dog Klingons and your own conveniently ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Keeping on his soapbox, he had continued. "Oh the Dominion! How I love them! They actually gave you a run for your money, now didn't they? They were strong enough to resist your ensnaring duplicity! But even as they struck back and tried to do the galaxy a favor by eradicating you like the parasites you are, you turned their challenge into an opportunity! Bringing you even closer with your momentarily disobedient Klingon pets, and even getting you shoulder to shoulder with the Romulans for the first time! How proud you must have been!" the Orion had spouted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then there are the Ferengi! They were the real deal! Greedy, manipulative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the Orion had verbally assailed the Federation, having combined loose facts and half-truths with conspiracy and suspicion, the Angosian Lieutenant Ragnar had made use of the Orion' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he had waited, his mind had ran through the realities of the situation. As much as he had dreamed of taking his revenge on Faro, he had never wanted anyone else put at risk to achieve such. This situation was not his doing, though, he had reminded himself. Faro had chosen to act, Faro had murdered at least one Starfleet officer and continued to threaten the lives of others. Hawk had done nothing to precipitate this course of actions. As he had gripped the type two phaser in his right hand tightly, he couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ...Looking upon the carcass of the Orion sprawled upon the floor, then glancing down to consider the phasers that had fallen from his hands, Admiral Thomas Henry finally settled upon looking at Lieutenant Nathan Hawk. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Republic helmsman had lowered his own weapon finally, but had kept his eyes unwavering upon Faro's remains. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The hate was evident to anyone who looked upon the young man. As was the satisfaction that did little to ease the pain of loss he had carried with him for most of his life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Though the argument could be made that Faro need not have been killed, that the phaser in Hawk's hand could have been set to a low stun setting, it was not an argument Henry was intent on making. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Keevan Faro had been driven by blood-lust and madness to take the lives of two Starfleet Officers, seriously wounding a third and taking a fourth hostage. He had been prepared to take his own life, and to take all of theirs with him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Any action taken to stop him from such was justified as far as he was concerned. | ||
+ | |||
+ | To that end, he took a few steps forward and stood before the Lieutenant whom had come here today to testify in a court of law. "Thank you, Lieutenant," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding despite the fact T'Lau could not see him, Henry acknowledged the coded phrase meant to allow him to alert her should he be under duress and offered the appropriate response to indicate the situation was under control. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Instantly, the lights in the court room resumed to full standard illumination as the force-fields surrounding the doors de-energized. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon Cromwell meanwhile stood up from where had rushed to check on the Vulcan bailiff as soon as the situation had been resolved. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Two of your security personnel have been killed," | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the practiced calm and emotionally absent coldness of a Kolinahr master, T'Lau acknowledged the situation report before providing one of her own. //"We received a narrow burst transmission from your present location. The transmission contained an algorithm that attempted to commandeer our systems in order to perpetuate it's own transmission across all available subspace bands. It was only do to our security safeguards that we were able to prevent it from succeeding and transmitting beyond the confines of Ananke Alpha."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What sort of transmission was it, administrator?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"It appears to be a data file archive, containing several gigaquads worth of text, audio and video files segregated within several hundred sub-folders."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was Dorian who put it together. "The dead-man' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shaking his head, the newly arrived Commander Akeen disagreed, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The holy grail," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Realizing that Hawk had no intentions of actually explaining things to the Rear Admiral, Dorian came to his verbal rescue and did so in his place. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The 'dead man's switch' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Adamant, Commander Akeen shook his head once again side to side and declared, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now it was Leon Cromwell' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "One way to find out," Leon said, looking towards the corpse across the room. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As everyone considered what the Admiral had said in silence for a moment, it was Hawk who put the pieces together this time. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think ya hit the nail on the head, Admiral," | ||
+ | |||
+ | ...In the wake of Faro's paranoid tirade, silence had befallen the court room once again. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The next move had been Faro' | ||
+ | |||
+ | After perhaps a minute had passed with no further diatribe forthcoming from Faro, the muted chirp of a phaser being reset emanated from his approximate position behind the defense table. At first, it was presumed he had simply been adjusting the charge on the phaser used to vaporize the witness chair, likely lowering it. When an energetic sound had begun to build to crescendo, it had become obvious what the Orion' | ||
+ | |||
+ | He had set at least one of the phasers to overload. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a confined space such as they were in, the concussive force of the explosion would be more than enough to kill most everyone in the room. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There had been no choice but to act. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Faro, you crazy son of a bitch! You'll kill us all!" Tom Dorian had shouted, despite his certainty that such had been Faro's intent. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I will not be your Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | There had been no way for any of the Starfleet officers present to communicate. No way for them to strategize and devise a plan. As each individual had taken action, they had simply needed to trust in their fellow officers to do the same. Having believed only the Angosian soldier Ragnar to be armed, it had been up to those who had lacked such means to draw the Orion' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Admiral Henry, his rotund form prone on the deck behind the judicial bench, had reached up and began striking the ceremonial naval bell that drew the court to order. The sound had been jarring, exactly as he had hoped it would be, and had drawn Faro's attention away from his hostage. | ||
+ | |||
+ | His Tellarite hostage had taken the opportunity and shoved both Faro and the defense table away, clamoring off across the court room on all fours and leaving Faro to struggle for cover. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The phaser set to overload had begun to whine then, a shrill high-pitched squeal of protest as the energy within grew to critical levels. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Angosian, Ragnar, had leapt to his feet from his new position and fired a blast at Faro, but the Orion had narrowly dodged it in his search for cover. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Faro had then returned fire, forcing Ragnar to leap for cover once again. In the process, the Starfleet officer had tripped in the dim lighting. His phaser loosed from his grasp had clattered away beneath the seats. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Emboldened by his apparent victory, enraged by his circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Disarming his opponent had not been enough. Faro had been as greedy as ever. He had risen to his feet, intent upon killing the now unarmed security officer as the overloading phaser had risen to an ear-bleeding pitch. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Standing from his own place of cover, Nathan Hawk had taken square aim at the Orion. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the man whom had murdered his family. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The man whom had tried to murder him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The sum of all the rage and hate within his being. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He had not called out to the man. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Had not made a sound. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Yet the Orion had turned his head towards him just the same. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Surprise quickly replaced by rage in his own eyes, the Orion had begun to bring his phaser to bare against Hawk. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He did not get the chance. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hawk had pressed the firing stud atop the type-two phaser. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The white-hot beam of phased energy had sprung forward, leaping across the room in an instant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It had found it's quarry, and released it's lethal charge into his body. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The force of the impact had knocked him back hard, and sent him sprawling to the deck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the overloading phaser had neared it's climax, the Angosian security officer had scrambled forward and retrieved it from where it had fallen from Faro's grasp. He had torn at the casing and pulled the hot power cell directly from it, singing his finger tips. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the dim red emergency lighting, it had been impossible for anyone to see the single tear that escaped from behind the detached visage Nathan Hawk had put up... | ||
+ | |||
+ | ...As the buzz of triage activity and speculation over Faro's implant swirled around him, Nathan Hawk closed his eyes as Leah Warner put her arms around him. She better than anyone could feel the welling tide of emotion building within him, and despite whatever issues they might yet face, she did love him. Squeezing her with more strength than he had intended, Nat fought against himself to maintain some sense of dignity. Clearing his throat, he whispered simply, "Lets go home." | ||
Line 2823: | Line 3988: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | Federation Special Prosecutor Thomas Aidan Dorian watched from the periphery of Ananke Alpha' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Video and audio files. Bank records. Shipping manifests. Coded communications. Names. Dates. Places. Contacts. Methods. Projections. It was all here, now, in their hands. A database of mass destruction. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Mired in myth and legend, the Syndicate had and continued to evolve over the centuries to the form that best suited its survival and prosperity. They were what they needed to be as the moment came. Slave traders, merchants, pirates, assassins, extortionists, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Races of warp antiquity such as the Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites had tried for centuries to bring an end to the criminal culture without success. The mighty empires of Cardassia, Romulus, and Kronos had done likewise. The Federation had been at opposition with the Syndicate' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Until today. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Today was the last day that the Orion Syndicate would be able to cling to the scummy underbelly of society. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The last day that it would be able to hide in the dark. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Within eighteen hours, joint Security and Intelligence strike teams would fan out from their standard assignments across more than one hundred worlds. Working with local authorities at the behest of the Federation Security Council, they would make coordinated raids and apprehend at least a thousand of the most high-ranking members of the Syndicate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In thirty-six hours, as the story broke across the Federation news networks, similar forces of the individual Romulan, Klingon, Cardassian, and Ferengi militaries would follow suit, acting upon the information and evidence the Federation would provide of Syndicate activity within their borders. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In fifty-four hours, as the collective powers of the Alpha Quadrant continued to take Syndicate members into custody, the first arraignments would be held by Federation courts. Out of the first thousand or so arrested, the vast majority would realize the collective weight bearing down upon them and would accept plea agreements, removing most of them from the galaxy at large for the better part of the next decade. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Within seventy-two hours, it would all be over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The marginal handful of members who had escaped arrest and prosecution would find their ranks decimated. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The senior members and those who had refused plea agreements would, faced with trial, begin to turn on one another. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Those taken by the Klingons, the Romulans and even the fairly reformed Cardassians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Though many taken into custody by the Ferengi would be able to buy their way out of prison, it would cost them every last slip of latinum they had. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With very few leaders, even fewer lieutenant' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Criminal activity would survive of course -- but without the support structure and steadfast alliance of loyalty, it would be a problem to be dealt with by local governments. A nuisance rather than an epidemic. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Watching the flurry of activity, Tom considered his own future, and hoped that with luck, he would soon be out of a job... | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | // | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Entry recorded under security protocol. | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | With the actions of the defendant Keevan Faro having brought the legal proceedings requiring Republic' | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Prior to our departure this morning, Federation Special Prosecutor Thomas Dorian in conjunction with Vice Admiral Thomas Henry declared the actions of Lieutenant Hawk justifiable and in the defense of others, negating a formal inquest into yesterday' | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | This will be my final log entry under security protocol. It and all those recorded since our receipt of our classified orders while docked at Deep Space 9, as well as our navigational and sensor logs since such, will be transmitted to Starfleet Command before being redacted from the Republic computers.**// | ||
+ | </ | ||
+ | |||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Lieutenant Nathan Hawk's quarters, deck 8, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Groggily, Nat picked his head up off the pillow - or was it a couch cushion? - and grumbled something unintelligible in the general direction of the sound that had stirred him from his less than restful slumber. His head felt as if someone had spent the night slamming it between a pair of cargo bay blast doors. His mouth was dry and tasted vaguely of his own vomit. He had felt far worse in his life. Most notably upon his return from the grave. He hadn't felt like this in more than eight months though. For it had been that long since he had last had a drink, and that long since he had last been in this state. | ||
+ | |||
+ | To put it bluntly, he was hung over. And despite the pounding headache and partial dehydration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the irritation that had awoken him once again sounded, he propped himself up on his elbows before rolling over and promptly falling off the couch and to the traction-carpeted deck beneath. Pushing himself up off the deck, he used the coffee table for leverage and made it unsteadily to his feet. Stumbling forward, he moved across the open area of his quarters primary living space and came to a stop at the replicator, where upon he ordered a glass of water. As the device obediently produced his order, the muted tones of a security override code being entered into his door controls caught his attention. A moment later, the doors parted and the slightly taller, slightly thinner, slightly older form of Counselor Reittan Tolkath took a tentative step forward. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he left the Captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was understandable that after Lieutenant Hawk's recent experience some psychological assessment/ | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he was thinking of overcoming the possible resistance from Hawk, somewhere in the back of his mind Reittan could hear his Granny' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | This would not be the first time the Lieutenant Commander had delved into Hawk's psyche. Right after Hawk had been " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reittan flinched a little. Having been absorbed so intently in thought, he hadn't notice the turbo-lift had arrived. He stepped in and waited for the doors to close before he announced his destination, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The turbo-lift doors gently opened revealing a very Starfleet corridor, the architecture and ambiance reeked of its fashioners; sterile. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tolkath walked slowly through the lit halls to the room of Nat Hawk and paused in front of the door that became a barrier between Tolkath and his unsuspecting target. When Hawk didn't respond to the first summon, Tolkath did a psychic sweep of the room and found Hawk unconscious. After deeming the room safe, Tolkath attempted to rouse Hawk a second time and waited. Hearing the commotion Hawk was causing within his quarters, and the amount of time he was taking to answer his door was slightly irritating the Counselor. Finally Tolkath took a deep breath, took the plunge, and entered his security override code. | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reittan could tell that Hawk was surprised... and hung over as he also noted the disarray the dimly lit quarters were in. Tolkath surmised that Hawk had a hang-over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hawk, I've been ordered, due to recent events... and past ones, to..." Reittan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The choice of venue is yours; here or the department and if you choose the department we go there immediately. I know some are uncomfortable being seen around that area..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking the glass of water from the replicator alcove, Nat didn't acknowledge the Counselor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, he addressed the ship's counselor who stood a step inside the threshold of his quarters. "Well I guess ya can come on in, then," he told the other man without an almost sarcastic lilt to his voice. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the counselor stepped fully inside the VIP accommodations that had originally been assigned solely to Leah Warner, the room once again grew darker as the ambient light of the corridor was obscured. Addressing the computer, Hawk commanded, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an affirmative tone, the computer complied with the order and raised the lighting level to somewhere between one-quarter and one-thirds level. As Hawk made his way back to the couch, he shot a glance at the chronometer on the wall that read 1225 hours. Setting the water glass on the coffee table, Hawk flopped back upon the couch and struggled to resist the urge to go vertical from there. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So, z'this lil visit yer idea, 'er did the cap'n put on her thinkin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Counselor knew the last quip was just to irritate him and so quickly side stepped it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you I know this isn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Counselor brought out his PADD and with a few strokes had brought up the Star Fleet psyche-evaluation form. He began to ask Hawk the question on the PADD but paused mid thought and changed the direction he wanted to take. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What was it like to see, after many years, your worst nemesis?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Downing the rest of his water, Hawk set the glass down on the coffee table and began to feel around behind the couch cushions for the slender bottle of Yridian brandy he knew must be there. He couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yer kiddin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pulling the cork from the bottle with his teeth, Hawk emptied most of the bottles minimal contents into his waiting water glass before setting the nearly empty bottle down roughly on the table. Sweeping up the glass roughly, he spilled a bit as he brought it to his lips and ingested the contents in one gulp, stomping his feet on the deck in appreciative response to the alcohol' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Noticing that Tolkath hadn't responded to his fairly defamatory comment, he considered the empath for a moment as he brought the glass back to his lips and took only a ginger sip this time. For a brief second, he considered the possibility that he had actually insulted the man, before dismissing the idea. A counselor with skin that thin wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Counselor responded out loud, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reittan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Counselor, though he detested power-plays, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hot damn!" Nat exclaimed with a broad grin, giving in to an amused little chuckle. "Now that's some pscyho-babble!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finishing the rest of his drink, Nat set the empty glass back down atop the coffee table. Propping his right foot upon the table, he retrieved his trusty flask from the inside of his right boot. It had been a while since he'd kept anything but Altair water in the thing, but he'd resolved last night to revive some old habits. Taking a swig from the container, he sat back on the couch and spread his arms out to either side, making the fairly universal 'bring it on' gesture as he did. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tolkath paused and shifted in his Star Fleet Uniform, eying the helmsman from head to toe. His thoughts went back and forth like a well played volley in tennis. The Lieutenant Commander took a breath and wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth. The match in his head had played out, and though it may be risky Reittan knew the path he had to take. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Throwing his head back, Nat's eyes snapped shut as he mockingly made exaggerated respiratory noises. That is to say, he pretended to snore. After a few moments of this, he resumed his earlier positioning and regarded the Counselor with an almost empathetic look that bordered on pity. "Sorry 'bout that, I tend ta fall asleep when folks start waxin' philosophical 'n all that junk," the Helmsman declared. Taking in a deep breath, the pilot sighed and shook his head from side to side, weary of their dance. "Imma make this easy fer ya, cause truth be told, I ain't in no mood ta go fishin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Plucking his communicator from his chest, he tossed it on the coffee table between himself and the psychiatrist. "Ya don't wanna clear me fer duty? I really dun give a rats ass, truth be told. We got 'bout two weeks 'til this boats home, at which point I'd bet latinum to lattes 'at my services ain't gonna be required in Starfleet any longer. Not since I dun outlived ma usefulness 'n all." Nat said as he stood up from the couch and moved over to the door, pressing the open controls once there. His tone shifting to subtly to indicate he was deadly serious, he finished. "So do what ya gotta do, doc. But do it some place else. Sessions over." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reittan had accomplished what he needed to do... almost. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The mind is an amazing thing. It can take any object, any light, tactile feeling, sound and produce interpretations, | ||
+ | |||
+ | This tactic was especially useful to a telepath to get information they needed. It can be especially effective when inhibitions surrounding the mind are hindered by external substances, as long as you can filter through the hazy mental communication. The Counselor had gone in knowing there would be resistance to the assessment. He had gotten the answers he needed within those split seconds reading the thoughts and feeling the emotions and that would spike and then be subdued. It was a little unorthodox, but so was Nat Hawk. It seemed as though his insanity was keeping him sane. He was fit for duty, as soon as he sobered up... but with Nat's ability to consume alcohol and still function, only formal procedure and policy kept him from doing it... often. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reittan began heading out the door, when he stopped in front of the helmsman and with complete sincerity for his well-being began, "Nat, find a reason to continue to live. Have some faith in your friends." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tolkath began to walk out the door, looked both ways down the corridor. When he was sure it was empty, a small bottle that contained a blue liquid appeared from under his uniform. "For your inconvenience." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the doors closed in Tolkath' | ||
+ | |||
+ | His life had been consumed and defined by rage and grief since he had been 10 years old. A rage he could never truly express. A grief he could never truly overcome. Those two emotions where a binary star that he was forever trapped by the gravity of. He had tried to resist them. He had tried to assuage them. He had tried to use them. Two days ago, he had quenched the fire of his rage by taking the life of the man responsible for his families deaths; but said fire would never be extinguished. He had hoped such vengeance would relieve the grief he felt, but the cold reality was that such would always be with him, always be a part of him. | ||
+ | As he took another mouthful of the harsh beverage, trying to quash the sobering thoughts stirring within -- no doubt Tolkath' | ||
Line 2829: | Line 4147: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | **" | ||
+ | <wrap align right>// | ||
+ | </ | ||
+ | **Location: Farius Prime (present day)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Multiple pillars of wispy smoke floated skyward from multiple fires scattered throughout Medara City. On the ground, Torga Street was a scene of total chaos, as roving mobs smashed store fronts, arsonists set fire to merchant carts, and rival street gangs faced down one another using blade instruments and brute fists. The entire bazaar district - once home to a bustling tourist trade - had turned into a battleground between syndicate mafia and the outmanned and outgunned local police force. High-pitched phaser shots pierced the roar of the angry crowd, intermixed with breaking glass and rocks hurled at panicked spectators. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Further north on Torga Street, just past the commercial ports along the Galldean Sea, a tenuously calmer scene persisted, as a faction of the Orion Syndicate mafia had cordoned off the warehouse district using broken down hover-transports and tipped-over bulk waste containers to block the main thoroughfare. Despite it being the premiere haven for criminal enterprise within the city, the warehouse district was so vital to the trade and commerce of Farius Prime, that its integrity was paramount to all who did business within. The mafia knew this, but as tight as the ersatz security was, it was so hastily arranged that individuals who were sure-footed enough to remain unseen could slip through the gauntlet via one of a few side alleyways. | ||
+ | |||
+ | True to his covert-operations name, Shadow was just such an individual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pressed against the corner of a gray concrete building, the Republic surgeon precipitously watched as an armed syndicate henchman roamed about. Keeping an eye on the impromptu barricade, the guard passed within meters of Shadow but failed to notice his dark silhouette outlined against the unlit side-street between warehouses. The failing light indicated that it was nearing sunset, and as usual, when Dragon told him to be somewhere in an hour, Shadow was late by a multiple of four. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hours can seem like days," he whispered an old intel proverb to himself. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Slithering back into the alley, the Doctor Yezbeck carefully staked out the next set of buildings to continue his hour-long search for his comrades. Spying the hunkered-down figure of Dragon across the next gravel pathway, he waited for the next syndicate guard to pass by before sprinting lightly over to him. Dragon spied him, but before Shadow could say anything, a hand reached for his shoulder nearly causing a heart attack. It was Delores. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't know," replied Saal, out of breath as the adrenaline subsided. "I made it out of the spaceport complex when the police headquarters across the street exploded due to a placed photon charge. Some sort of upheaval in the Orion Syndicate, I gather. But I couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I got a shuttle in docking bay thirty-six at the south spaceport," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean? Are you telling me he DEALS in the poison we're trying to track down?" Dragon exclaimed. "That doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe it was just a one-time deal," Cheshire hypothesized. "Maybe the source doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What did you give him in return for the information?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a deep breath, Dragon swallowed his pride. "The location of Nat Hawk..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What did it matter?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal shook his head in disbelief. "Do you realize what Hawk has gone through since you left Republic? He was nearly murdered TWICE by syndicate operatives! The second time would have been for good if Captain Roth hadn't put together a backup plan!" The doctor wasn't ready to go into specifics about the procedure to re-animate Hawk, but he felt his point was made. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon went ashen. "Oh my god..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | An uneasy silence befell the trio of spies. Pursing his lips, Saal watched the smoke rising in the distance over Torga Street. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal considered the Bajoran Trill' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Cheshire was about to protest when Dragon piped in, still reeling from his realization that he might have been the cause of Nat Hawk's death. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | She looked as if she was about to begin a revolt of her own, but a distant explosion back towards the city had her reconsider. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fair enough," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Cheshire and Dragon accepted the gifts. "Good luck," she offered to the two Starfleet comrades before departing towards the open road. They watched as she approached a roaming guard, who paused in surprise at the lithe form of the Bajoran operative. "Hey, big boy," she slyly greeted him before giving him a sucker punch, rendering him unconscious, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | Inside Ramius' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Quietly inspecting the long rows of canvased-covered palettes, the two took turns lifting the draped shrouds to view the contents while Saal scanned each with a tricorder. Dividing their attention between the palettes and their surroundings, | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a few minutes, Saal stopped at one particular palette, narrowing his focus on the scanning instrument. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is it?" murmured Dragon, maneuvering beside his compatriot. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The protein suspension is exactly what you'd expect," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In English, Shadow." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Casting his compatriot a surreptitious eyebrow, he returned his attention to his tricorder screen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon pulled the tricorder towards him to get a better view of what he was talking about. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "They look normal to me," Dragon frowned. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the tiny image, the complex wireframe molecule slowly came to life in parallel to the increasing numeric temperature scale alongside the margin. As the temperature increased, the wireframe molecule began to vibrate, and above 300 Kelvin, spontaneously began changing it's molecular structure in rapid succession. The higher the temperature got, the faster the molecule changed shape. At 310 Kelvin, the tricorder' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Like I said. Bingo." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is incredible!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And why it got past customs," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The two considered the insidious nature of their discovery for a moment while Saal scrutinized his instrument readings. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Just one?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aside from the obvious," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What would be the reason for using refined protein?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | One of the uses seemed to turn on a light in Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal stood clueless as to Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Studying another palette, the former intel agent partially uncovered a stack of complex conical devices the size of small cargo carriers. He passed his hands over the corrugated metallic surfaces which contained a porous matrix of regularly spaced pinholes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon paid him no attention, remaining transfixed on his thought process. Pulling off the cover of yet another palette, this time he revealed a contraption resembling a cubical food replicator. "And a wide-field micro-transporter!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon turned his head towards Shadow while he was talking, only to find an empty space where the Republic surgeon once stood. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With trepidation creeping into his nerves, adrenaline began surging through his veins as he anticipated combat at any moment. Sprinting to the end of the row of palettes, a metal cylinder resembling a large fire extinguisher was forcefully hurled butt-end into Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not again..." | ||
Line 2835: | Line 4290: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Stardate: 58796.9 (Present Day)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pacing restlessly from one end of the glorified closet that passed for the ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And it wasn't easy to make a Ferengi feel claustrophobic. There wasn't even a Ferengi word for claustrophobia. And they had 178 words for rain. | ||
+ | |||
+ | His earlier voyage at the behest of the mighty United Federation of Planets seemed pleasant, even comfortable in hindsight. Said trip from his adopted home of New Sydney to the ultra secure space station whose designation he had never been told, had been aboard a Defiant-Class warship. Even the ridiculously cramped quarters aboard said vessel seemed luxurious now in comparison to the compact accommodations he currently found himself in. Then again, he supposed that now that his client was deceased, there was no longer any need to procure such extensively secure transport. Certainly, he wasn't important enough to warrant such ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I suppose I'm lucky they don't toss me into an escape pod and jettison me at warp as they pass by..." Venk muttered under his breath, speaking only to himself and the far too close walls surrounding him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a pronounced sigh, he sat down upon the firm bunk -- the only object in the room save the waste extraction facilities upon which a person could sit down beyond the hard metal deck -- and considered the events of the last few days. He had known going in that the odds of an acquittal were less than eight-point-four-seven-two percent. Though he had to admit that the Federation justice system was far more equitable than that of the Klingons, Romulans or Cardassians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | No, Keevan Faro, violent and paranoid lunatic that he was, had never truly had a prayer at a fair trial as far as Venk was concerned. Even with the much proclaimed ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking back, he supposed his client had realized that truth on his own. It was certainly the only explanation he could come up with for the old man's radical rebellion. He had clearly been aware before he had acted that any escape would prove impossible. He had thus obviously decided to go out on his own terms, as it was, rather than to remain a prisoner. No doubt motivated further by his desire to keep his secrets to himself. Secrets which had since been let loose upon the world, falling straight into the hands of the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Picking up a flat and featureless Starfleet style PADD from the foot of his bunk, he considered the data displays contents. A redacted copy of the court room transcript, absent any and all mentions of things deemed ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Specifically, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It sickened him to think of Ferenginar, swarming with fully clothed females earning profit. Of his sister' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe the old kook was actually on to something?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Like the transport ship itself, the mattress pad and pillow were both to hard and to small. The replicated fabric covering the pillow also made his lobes itch, which was never a good thing. Accepting of the circumstances though, he tried in vain to find a somewhat comfortable position. He had no idea how long his journey home to New Sydney would take, and knew it would be pointless to inquire about such. Like so many details of late, it was likely on a 'need to know' basis. And as he had been reminded by at least a dozen self-satisfied Starfleet officers recently, he didn't seem to ever 'need to know'. Rolling over on his side, he contemplated the dull plasti-steel bulkhead before him and wondered not for the first time how these Federation types didn't go mad in such drab surroundings. Then again, considering their uniforms and even their consoles and equipment, drab seemed to be the order of the day for them. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still unable to find a comfortable position, he finally sat upright into a seated position. Grabbing the uncomfortable itchy little pillow, he beat it against the edge of the bunk a few times before tossing it to the floor in an aggravated huff. As he finished doing so, he realized how ridiculous he might look to any surveillance devices and how silly it was to take out his frustration on an inanimate object. He also realized his frustrations were not truly based around his accommodations or any of the other trivialities that might otherwise be the source of such. What he was really, truly frustrated with was the entire situation. The whole thing wreaked of injustice, intolerance, | ||
+ | |||
+ | On his feet once more, he resumed pacing the cramped confines of his cabin. His client had authored a rather long and, in his limited literary opinion, tediously dull manifesto during his time on the run. The document had been entrusted to him not long after the original indictment had been dismissed, such apparently having been a ruse by the Federation in order to fool Faro into a false sense of security. He knew that his client had wished such to be published, he had even asked Venk about locating a publisher after a court appearance back on New Sydney. Not being an idiot, Venk had placated the old Orion by telling him he was pursuing such avenues while doing quite the opposite. The manifesto was something he knew the Orion Syndicate would not want to see the light of day. Not so much as it exposed any of their secrets -- it didn't even mention them, really -- so much as it would bring a great deal of attention to it's author. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unwanted attention, as far as the Syndicate was concerned. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now, though... maybe that didn't matter. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Faro was dead, and Venk knew the old man hadn't any family of his own. Family was a liability, the Orion had always said. Venk couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | If it also got the old crackpots rather valid political message out, even better. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | But then what about the Syndicate? They weren' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Startling him from his own cascade of thoughts was a neutral but pronounced electrical tone that the lobed lawyer recognized as an internal ship's communications channel initiating. It was promptly followed by the disenchanted voice of one of the transports pilots, a Hew-mon named Brooks. "This is Flight Control to all passengers," | ||
+ | |||
+ | As curious as Venk was to learn about any other passengers aboard, such took a back seat to the surprise at the Hew-mon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unable to reconcile the coincidence of such unheard of actions taking place here with the knowledge he had of recent events, a cold chill ran down Venk's spine as if someone had just bought his vacuum-desiccated remains at cost. Leaping to his feet, he activated the comm-panel on the wall next to the door. He hadn't bothered with such previously because of the communications lock-out he had been subjected to for the past few weeks, but with their arrival at New Sydney, he chanced that such might be at an end. He was right. Tuning to a familiar frequency that carried local news broadcasts, he watched in abject horror at the video feeds contents. All across his adopted home, arrests were being made by Starfleet with the cooperation of local authorities. Even the jaded news anchors were befuddled by the unheard of events taking place. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Worse, the Federation News Service and a number of other Federation-based information outlets were reporting similar ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The majority of those being targeted? Purported members of the infamous criminal enterprise, the Orion Syndicate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was worse than anything he could have ever imagined. The totality of what was going on was almost too much for him to fathom. Pundits were speculating about the unprecedented events and their potential consequences, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now, though? One of the bedrock institutions whose fierce defiance had served as a shining example to people everywhere who valued such a way of life was on the verge of annihilation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Suddenly, another neutral tone sounded throughout the small cabin. At first he had thought it another communications channel, until it sounded once again and he realized it was door chime. "Come in?" Venk asked more than anything, knowing the door to have been locked 'for security purposes' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | Up until that moment, Venk had been uncertain if publishing Faro's manifesto would be worth the risks to himself, his property, and even his family. In an instant though, he had come upon the decision to engender such risks, if for no other reason than because someone had to say something in contrast to the Federation propaganda machine. Something to counter the self-righteous zealotry of men like Thomas Aiden Dorian, who considered their judgment and their culture to be the arbiter for all others. After all, like ruled sixty-two said: the riskier the road, the greater the profit. And though he doubted said profits would be in the literal latinum type, he hoped that whatever form it did take would be something he could use to wipe the smug look off of Dorian' | ||
Line 2841: | Line 4356: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Medara City, Farius Prime** | ||
+ | The sparsely-lit room was intermittently highlighted with light beams from an overhead window grate. Together with a chair, an oblong metallic table served as the only furnishing in the spartan abode, and hosted a bench-top computer console that displayed complex algorithms and chemical formulas. Sitting in the chair was a man that looked out of his element with regard to the academic world of scientific research. Instead of a laboratory coat, the pale man sported a dark leather jacket with a military-style bandolier. His head sported a crop of black, unkept curly hair, and his face maintained an oily complexion beneath the mustache-free mutton-chop beard. His penetrating sable eyes were transfixed on the computer screen, and hid a deep-seated expression of either anxiety or consternation; | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the dark corner, movement signaled the stirring of a large figure standing over two meters in height. Far from humanoid, the head of the creature boasted a pair of compound eyes, twitching antenna, and a powerful set of insectoid mandibles. Like all insectoids, this one had six appendages, with the thorax anchoring the lower two sets for mobility. Further down the thorax, the lower abdomen was swollen with a visibly-full egg sac. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sitting back in his chair, the man at the table looked to the ceiling forlornly, releasing a sigh of resignation. "In all my days of loyalty to him, I never thought I would see the day that Keevan Faro met a demise suited for a mere mortal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No doubt his other less-deserving followers will be vying for his inheritance," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The man's expression turned from despondent to amused. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kaferians, well known as close Federation allies, live for only about fifteen Earth years, with age ten as the optimum reproduction age. Although their homeworld on Tau Ceti III had been made famous many centuries ago due to its exotic native fruits, it had endured only twenty generations of Kaferian habitation since its colonization in the late twenty-second century. As descendants from a crashed hatchery ship in the Delphi sector, Kaferians had long ago cast off their Xindi insectoid ancestry, which was replete with dominant and aggressive behavior bordering on xenophobia. Contrary to their common roots with that extinct species, the pre-Kaferian hive from the hatchery ship were imprinted with docile and gregarious behaviors, the source of which remains a mystery to this day. Nevertheless, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What use would my offspring be if we did not embark upon the New Dawn?" clicked the Kaferian, her antenna twitching in thought. "If is to end here, then kill me as I stand. Otherwise, let us move forward." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Her mandibles seethed with pride. Had she been human, her response could almost have been considered blushing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Due to their short life cycles, adult female Kaferians are almost always pregnant due a genetic trait that was driven to maintain a viable population in such a short time span. This Kaferian was no different. What made her stand out, however, was her odd shell coloring. Instead of the smooth, flat shades of green like most Kaferians, hers was a mud-brown, sharply mottled with fierce speckles of shiny black. Such coloring was virtually unheard of among her species, thus signifying an unusual genetic transformation in this particular individual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The venom pulsing through your poison glands works even better than we could have hoped," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You haven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "All in good time, my dear. First, I must set the stage." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he completed his enigmatic sentence, the door chime signaled a new arrival. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Two Kobheerians walked into the room, side by side, and bowed subserviently to the black-haired man seated at the table. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Kobheerians nervously looked at one another, unsure if they should say any anything else. Out of fear for the repercussions, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A guard outside the warehouse was found unconscious," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We don't know. All of Medara City is ripping itself apart. Our contacts have scattered." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking intently at the other Kobheerian, Shavis took another step forward. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You said this wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, the Kobheerian bordered on panic. Anxiously looking to either side of himself for an escape route, he took a step back not sure whether to flee or stand his ground. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know the price," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Kobheerian was trembling, unable to turn his eyes away from the entrancing stare of the formidable prince. As the latter titled his head, he kept his sable irises transfixed on his prey, inching closer step by step. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, the panicked alien reached for an implement in his belt. It appeared to be a sheathed knife, but as he slowly pulled it out of its scabbard, the twin tines gave the instrument the appearance of a large, sharpened tuning fork. Incapable of breaking the stare-down match with Shavis, the Kobheerian dropped to his knees as he held aloft the strange piercing implement, fighting the growing urge to impale himself with it. One last forceful glare from the bearded prince was enough to cause the alien to relent. In a swift motion, he thrust the fork into his own neck, causing instant paralysis. Within a second, he collapsed to the floor in agony, flailing reflexively, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was done. Moments later, the suicidal guard lay motionless on the floor as Shavis casually stepped over him to address the surviving Kobheerian. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, your excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | For her part, the Kaferian made a sound that was somewhere between the buzzing of a hornet and the stridulation of a cicada. Extending a proboscis from between her mandibles, the insectoid gruesomely consumed the dead guard on the floor. From her muffled chirps of fulfillment between mouthfuls of flesh, it was quite clear that vegetarianism - another genetic trait endemic of true Kaferians - had been actively bred out of this particular individual... | ||
Line 2847: | Line 4430: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Observation lounge, deck 1, USS Republic** | ||
+ | It was just after 2300 hours aboard the austerely populated Galaxy-Class Starship Republic, and Lieutenant Nathan Hawk sat solitarily leaning back with his booted feet upon the glossy obsidian surface of the conference table. Next to his black leather Starfleet regulation boots sat a half-empty bottle of Aldebaran whiskey, it's fluorescent green hue barely discernable in the darkness that saturated the room, the only illumination cast from the distant stars as they streamed passed at warp five. For the first occasion since the morning that the trial had begun aboard Ananke Alpha, he was attired in his standard uniform; though why such was, not even he quite new. Cleared for duty by Counselor Tolkath, the accomplished pilot had yet to man his post since shortly after their departure from Deep Space 9. Instead, he had delegated such duties to those few of his department' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Lifting the glass that had been warmed by his hand for the past hour to his lips, the Helmsman imbibes a mouthful of the nearly room temperature beverage. As he swallows, the beverage burning his throat, it reminds him of the scornful burning eyes of Leah Warner, the woman he loves - or loved. At the moment, he was unsure of where they stood or even how he felt. Then again, he had been trying his best simply not to feel anything at all for the past... what? Seventy-two hours? Considering how adept he once was at achieving such a state of mental numbness, he was doing fairly well picking up where he'd left off 8 months earlier. Yet the disappointment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Guess in uh way, it was a lifetime ago..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The soft whisper of air being displaced caught his ear like a thunderbolt, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Recognizing the silhouette framed in the doorway, his instincts calmed even as his curiosity piqued. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Mind if I come in?" the Republic commander inquired, her tone quiet and leaving Hawk with the impression that should he refuse, she would abide by such despite not having too. Despite his mood, he couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unable to conjure up anything more appropriate to offer in response, the Helmsman half-shrugged as he said simply, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking that as endorsement, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding twice, he gestured to the bottle with his free hand. "Help yerself," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Setting the bottle back down next to Hawk, she replaced the stopper before moving away, clear across the room. Taking her customary place at the opposite head of the table, she too turned her chair to look out towards the stars, though she kept her feet firmly upon the floor save crossing her right leg across her left. For a few long moments, nothing but silence and starlight passes between the two. Finally, after what must have been a solid ten minutes, she spoke as her eyes kept fixed on the stars. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We haven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a mouthful from his nearly empty glass, Nat considered her words for a moment before offering any reply. Considered that perhaps she was fishing for something, before realizing as Captain she didn't really need to. If her intent was to call him on his recent absence, or behavior, or anything else, she could and more than likely would simply do so. These actions, this tact, wasn't one undertaken by a commander to her crewmen, but more one of equals whom had both had their share of rough experiences in life. On that basis alone, he deigned to give her an honest response. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding her head in the affirmative almost imperceptibly in this dim lighting, she offered no argument to his point. Which only made him feel obligated to offer her the rest of that truth to her in acknowledgment of the deference she was showing him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Truth is," he began, his voice low and his gaze shifting to the swiftly retreating stars, "after everythin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | A long moment passed before she opted to state her opinion. "I can't argue with that," she declared, her own vision fixed upon the stars as she continued, "but at some point... you're going to have to decide what you want, and where you want to be." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a derisive snort absent any slight towards her, he replied the only truth he saw ahead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning her head to look at him, Kim Roth graced him with a look that almost bordered on the mischievous. "You may not be the model Starfleet officer, Nathan, but if all Starfleet wanted was a mindless army of ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the thought hung in the air between the two, who for this moment were not captain and lieutenant but simply individuals sharing their thoughts, Nathan Hawk began to wonder... if the choice was his, where did he want to be? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Standing, Captain Roth moved to the door through which she had come a few minutes earlier, and stopped as they parted to either side in response to her presence. Looking back over her shoulder, she said one last thing to her Helmsman: "If you haven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Her peace said, she departed as suddenly and unexpectedly as she had arrived. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alone once again in the unlit conference room, Nat finished off the contents of his glass and set it down upon the table top. Deciding to take the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the screen, a young Bajoran woman in semi-formal civilian attire appeared, the back-drop of an unfamiliar cities skyline behind her. Said skyline was marred by nearly a dozen pillars of smoke and sporadic building fires. A chaotic crowd could be seen below her as well, the people a menagerie of species. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Have you been able to get any comment from any native government official, Telinda?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shaking her head, the Bajoran woman - Telinda - replied. "Under normal circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Farius, Hawk knew, was a non-aligned world that had become a Syndicate strong-hold in the late 2360s as the Federation had expanded outward closer to the Cardassians following the end of the border wars of the 2350s. It's currency-based economy had been easy for the Syndicate to manipulate, it's politicians easily bribed into obedience and cooperation with their agenda. It was one of the prime examples of the level of damage the Syndicate could do to a world. While it had never been a utopia on par with a Federation world, once upon a time it's government had stood for the people. It's natives had lived comfortable, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you for the update, Telinda, and please: stay safe out there." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As we've been reporting for the past three days, now into the early hours of the fourth day, an unprecedented number of arrests have been occurring across the quadrant by Starfleet Security forces operating on direct orders from the Federation Security Council. The target of these arrests, which a little over thirty-six hours ago also began to occur in the sovereign territories of the Klingons, Romulans, Cardassians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shaking her head from side to side in the fairly universal gesture indicative of the negative, the retired C-in-C kept a decent poker-face as she answered, "I am afraid not, Xal. Even I have been unable to reach anyone for comment, which is a testament to the increased security measures that we began to implement during the Dominion War," stated the Admiral, her native African accent thicker than Hawk remembered the commencement speech he'd heard her give to the class in front of his at Starfleet Academy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Seeking to reveal any new information any of his guests may have before resorting to analysis of what they already knew, Ra-Museii addressed his fellow FNS reporter, Velissa, next. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking almost perplexed, the plastered-on smile actually faded considerably as Velissa also nodded in the negative. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nat knew before the man a half-dozen years his junior opened his mouth, just by the thinly concealed look of amusement on his face, that the former Starfleet brat did indeed have something up his sleeve. "Well, Xal, I actually was able to get a hold of two fairly prominent non-Federation political figures just a few hours ago." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Ra-Museii, for his part, looked dumb-founded. Admiral Shanthi looked irritated. Velissa looked curious, but a little too carefully pleasant. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unable to keep his true emotions from showing, the young Sisko smiled broadly and looked away from the camera for a moment, before nodding and offering up what he had learned. "From what they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking somewhat chastened by the well respected Admiral' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Clearly not keen to reveal to much of what his sources had shared with him, Sisko took a moment to compose his response carefully, clearing his throat before he began. "Uh, well, honestly... rumor is that someone in the Federation, the government that is... somebody with enough influence to be believed, played the trump card." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this, everyone went silent. Hawk at first had thought the broadcast had frozen, or the signal become delayed, but finally Xal Ra-Museii leaned forward at his desk and addressed the audience. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "An ability which does seem to have presented itself," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "From a political stand-point, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If Mister Sisko' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "While the cooperation of the Klingons, the Ferengi, and even the Cardassians does not surprise me, what with how strong our diplomatic relations with each of those nations has become in the years since the Dominion War, the fact that the Romulan Empire also seems to have launched their own effort at arresting elements of the Syndicate within their own borders would certainly only make sense if they had been provided with a considerable incentive to do so." supposed Shanthi. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Such as actionable evidence against such a significant number of individuals, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What does it all mean, though? To what end is all of this action being taken?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was Ra-Museii who came to it first, though. "The end of the Orion Syndicate." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As no one else offered comment or question, Ra-Museii realized they were transmitting little more than 'dead air' as it was known. "Well, this has certainly been an interesting and, perhaps even fruitful discussion. I'd like to thank all of our guests for taking time out of their busy schedules to be--" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning off the viewer with a quick command to the controls in front of him, Nathan Hawk sat back in the conference lounge chair... and smiled. | ||
+ | |||
+ | His parents had foolishly given their lives, and the lives of his siblings, in the pursuit of information or evidence that could lead to the conviction of perhaps a handful of members of the Orion Syndicate. They had done so from a place of ignorant idealism, placing far too much on the line to deal a miniscule blow to a criminal element that had thrived for centuries despite the best efforts of dozens of governments and species across the stars. They had paid the ultimate price for their ideals, his siblings had paid for their parents mistakes, and he had been left alone to question the wisdom and the sanity and the stupidity of all of it. When he had agreed to go undercover against the Syndicate, he had done so for a number of reasons. To learn for himself just what the organization was about. To prove to himself and to his parents that one could make a difference without putting others in harms way. To feel somewhat useful again after having been cashiered out of Starfleet on psychological reasons. | ||
+ | |||
+ | His thirst for vengeance against Faro for their murders had come later, after his assignment was complete. Such a revelation, that he had sat side-by-side with the monster who had taken everything from him, had thrown him for quite a loop. One he had still been spiraling in when he had come aboard Republic. With friends, with love, and with determination to do something that mattered with his life, he had pulled himself out of that tail-spin. He had cheated death more times that he could keep count. He had risen to obtain some level of respect in an organization that a part of him would always hate for what his parents had idiotically thrown away for it. He had faced Faro down, and taken his life, and been left unsatisfied by the act he had thought for so long would ease his pain. That pain, he had realized in the days since, would always be with him. So he had fallen back upon the bottle, to numb it once more, uncertain of what else could ease his torment. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now he knew. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Orion Syndicate had taken everything from him. Even, briefly, his life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In turn, without realizing just how significant a role he had played until just this moment, he had taken everything from the Syndicate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For the first time in his life since he had lost them, he could think about his family without a bitter, burning rage coming to life within him. | ||
---- | ---- | ||
< | < | ||
- | <fs x-large> | + | <fs x-large> |
+ | **" | ||
+ | <wrap align right>// | ||
+ | </ | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Unknown**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You needn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning a puffy cheek towards the sound, Dragon strained to see the source. Focusing on a shadow seated across the table from him, a mysterious humanoid figure calmly smoked a rolled-up, fuming piece of paper that was a cross between a cigar and a stover pipe stem. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Where am I?" asked Dragon feebly through bruised lips. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On a spaceship," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon looked around to discern his surroundings, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your Bajoran friend would seem to indicate otherwise." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon looked back at Shavis without response. The former intel agents' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you have her, what do you need ME for?" Dragon asked. "Why even bother with this?" He wasn't entirely convinced that they had captured Cheshire, but the fact that he hadn't brought up Shadow was a thought that gave him hope. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, because I'm curious," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I did a job for Ramius," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your bypass of the warehouse security system shows you have knowledge about Class Five full-spectrum sensor networks. That sort of expertise doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon knew better than to try conning someone who apparently held all the cards, so unfortunately for him, he chose the better part of valor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a nod of Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The former intel agent could resist pain, but at that level of torment, a pained growl erupted from Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You have nine more fingers, Mister Connelly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I did a job for him!" Dragon sputtered through gritted teeth. "He cheated me on payment! I was just looking for something to cover my expenses! I have debts too, you know!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | He was going out on a limb with the lie, especially since the man across from him could very well be in league with Ramius, but when he uttered Ramius' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With another nod of Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Calmly, Shavis puffed away on his cigar-pipe, patiently waiting for Dragon to stop pulling on his restraints and settle down. About a half a minute passed before the composed bearded man continued. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The next transport off Farius!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "All in good time, Mister Connelly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon, the throbbing pain in his hand subsiding, leaned his head back into his chair, and weakly shook his head back and forth. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis stared into Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, Dragon was unsure if he sold his story. It was the best acting he could do under the current circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Tell me, Mister Connelly, WHY I would make a human my ally?" he asked, with a touch of hatred slipping through when he spoke the word ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I searched Ramius' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Using a handheld PADD, he showed an image of a man with light brown curly hair, a flat face, and a slight lantern jaw. In reality, it was that of Chief Miles O' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A Kaferian?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No, Mister Connelly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The statement was confusing, especially since Dragon knew the Kaferian race to be strict vegetarians. However, as the door slid shut, the male drone' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The former intel agent frantically pulled on his restraints to no avail. His breathing transformed to hyperventilation as the giant insectoid inched closer and extended a proboscis from between it's mandibles. He flinched as the Kaferian reached out for him, feeling a vibrating numbness throughout his body while the insectoid' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: ICS (Interstellar Cargo Shuttle) " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the incandescent light of transporter energy faded, the face of his fellow operative, Cheshire, came into focus before him. Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "By the prophets! What did they DO to you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, Dragon looked up with a smile, his beaten and bruised face looking into her eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good to see you again, too..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She was about to respond, when the entire shuttlecraft lurched violently, causing the lights to dim momentarily. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Help me up," asked Dragon of Cheshire. As the two made their way to the forward end of the craft, Dragon looked out among the stars to see a fleet of about twenty titanic ore freighters in tight formation behind the furthest satellite of Farius Prime' | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, Saal was feverishly working the pilot controls, trying to dodge the incoming fighter blasts. He worked the craft back and forth in an " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, the shuttle wavered back and forth as yellow pulses of laser energy shot across its bow. Most missed, but a few hit their target as the green and orange warp nacelles flickered in response to major damage. Ominously, the shuttle slowed its trajectory. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know!" hissed Shadow, his wide-eyes transfixed on the sensor panel in front of him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Why haven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This thing' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shadow didn't answer. Outside, six honeycomb-shaped fighters closed in on the shuttle as it decelerated, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, from the fighters' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | On the bridge of the nearest ore freighter, Shavis stood with arms crossed, staring menacingly at the main screen. Transmitting was the image of a mud-brown male Kaferian drone with a pulsating yellow honeycomb pattern behind him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We are unable to locate the cargo shuttle. They must have activated a cloaking device." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Since there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a fit of rage, the furious Prince Shavis grabbed the Dopterian sitting at the science console, and slammed him against the bulkhead. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You IDIOT!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Silence followed as everyone watched the infuriated despot stumble to the command chair, the only sounds being the beeping and chirping of the control systems around the room. As he regained his composure, the livid man slumped in his seat and glowered back at the screen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What are your orders, your excellency?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, your excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | The cloaked Klingon Bird-of-Prey floated slowly through the vacuum of space with the tiny shuttlecraft magnetically linked to it's hull. With engines shutdown, and main power systems offline save that of the cloaking device and life support, the combined vessels drifted together in a seemingly lifeless pair of conjoined hulks. In the dark cockpit of the shuttle, a lone screen was activated on the console. It displayed the annoyed and grizzled face of Atul, the Klingon agent that Dragon was communicating with on Farius Prime the previous day. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal looked at the display with an air of thankfulness that permeated the abrasive tone of the conversation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As soon as the channel closed, Dragon couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal paused in thought before offering a course of action. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon was focused at the main communications screen at the co-pilot' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You know that I'm not supposed to be talking to you, right?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon was unrepentant. "Do you even know WHY they cut my lifeline?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You of all people know when to stop asking questions. This is one of those times."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fine, forget that for a moment. I need to talk to you." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You have sixty seconds before I close this channel."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I found that Gorn poison you sent me after. There' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"So, you expect me to mobilize a bunch of agents to find your fleet of ore freighters? Forget it. It's outside the Federation, and none of our concern."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This person has a deep-seated hatred for humans," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Oh really? How can I trust a man who works behind my back?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What are you talking about?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon closed his eyes in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? That's my old unit name from Task Force One! Are you seriously holding my affiliation with that group against me?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The Pantheon has been listed as a possible subversive organization within Starfleet. We've been tracking the movements of all members within the borders of the Federation, and are identifying new members with each passing month."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yeah, yeah, whatever!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dragon was shell-shocked. "Rat out my friends?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As promised, the channel closed at a second before the one-minute mark, leaving Dragon to rest his face in the palm of his hand. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Let me guess," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saal glanced at a small side screen that displayed a map of the Alpha Quadrant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I came this far to get off that rock," he exclaimed, referring to his destitute, mutli-month stint on Farius Prime. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How about you?" Saal turned to Cheshire, the Bajoran-Trill agent who was mid-deck, packing up the medical kit after repairing Dragon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Swiveling his chair to face the shuttle controls, he began dialing their new course into Federation territory. As the shuttle changed heading and activated the warp systems, Saal Yezbeck muttered a ubiquitous phrase from ancient Latin. | ||
+ | "May fortune favor the bold..." | ||
Line 2859: | Line 4828: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, Enroute to the Earth System** | ||
+ | Seismic shifts to the galactic geo-political landscape not withstanding, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Normally, he'd have stopped, nodded to, or at least acknowledged the presence of dozens, if not hundreds of crewmen moving through the halls and crawlways of the ship as they went about their business. Now however, in the wake of Kevan Faro's death, and the ship's departure from Ananke Alpha, the near-empty ship only served to remind Carter of how much was missing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a surprisingly short trip from the turbo-lift shaft to his quarters, and the Martian XO barely slowed down to let the doors slide open before he slipped inside. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment later, the room was minimally lit with a warm yellow tone, long, full shadows accenting the room's closed spaces. John sat at his terminal, tapping a few commands when the ship's computer interrupted his train of thought. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter huffed in frustration. He was already working on borrowed time. Despite the fact that all it took was a few choice words, which John swiftly provided, he couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a few quick taps at the console, John accessed a restricted communications link to one of his least favorite people. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Why John Carter, as I live and breathe..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | John rolled his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Out of habit and practice, Meridian glanced over her shoulder. The dusty pink sky and rocky peaks in the background betrayed her location, and Chase was always wary of Vulcan observers to her conversations. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter leaned in, doing his best to keep his irritation at Chase out of his voice. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meridian' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter felt his pulse begin to rise, his face becoming flush. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the other side of the video link, Meridian blinked. With her, that was what passed for surprise. She cleared her throat. //"All right, John."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " One of your people is in trouble," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I heard,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Sean McTaggart. My former Tac..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You have seven of those."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | John grumbled. "He was running some Black Shirt Op on Farius Prime with Forrest when the Romulans nabbed him." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the mention of Forrest' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Look, Chase, I'm sure you and Forrest didn't see eye to eye, but Sean' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Chase shook her head. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meridian nearly chuckled. //"Oh, John. That's so cute,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"It means that Forrest screwed up, and he did it big enough and bad enough that no one's going to help him. He's cut off; from us, from you, from the Federation. He might as well not exist."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But Sean..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is collateral damage, John, "// she said simply. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The channel went dead, and Carter hung his head for a moment. Calling in a favor from Chase Meridian had been his last, best shot to do something for McTaggart. Now, if what she'd said was true, then John had to find a way to get to the middle of Romulan space, but beyond that he didn't know where to begin to search for his former crewmate. As he sat and brooded, he felt his pulse beginning to rise; a mix of anger and frustration moving through his mind. A quiet wash of photons broke him out of his loop of emotion. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon Harris appeared behind Carter and placed her hand on his shoulder. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter shook his head. "Not this time. This one caught me completely by surprise. I really had no idea that anyone would use the Freedom Star ambush against me like this." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The XO leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. "I thought that turning their attention to me would give me some leverage, maybe open an opportunity, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon thought for a minute, her other hand reaching out to rub Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | John shook his head. "I don't think Captain Roth could do anything that the Blackshirts couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon smiled. "Then let's talk to a Captain who has nothing to lose." | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Holodeck two, deck 10, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon nodded, then looked to her left, where she was pleased to see John had relaxed somewhat. "You mean the Mutara Nebula Affair?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jim Kirk leaned forward, inclining his head to look down his nose at the redheaded hologram. "Is that what they call it now?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon nodded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well that's damned disappointing. It was certainly more than an ' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, deck 1, USS Alliance**\\ | ||
+ | **Shiptime: 2230 Hours** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The three-armed being shrugged his two shoulders. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | DeVries tilted his head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John Carter. What did you do this time?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the other end of the line, Carter blinked, then felt a smile cross his face. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Smiling back to the Martian Commander, DeVries held up a hand. "Easy, Commander," | ||
+ | |||
+ | After what seemed like a lifetime, given the events of the last few weeks, John Carter smiled, allowing himself to recall his last Advanced Starship Tactics class; the teaching post he'd had on Earth before his transfer to Republic, where Alan DeVries was a reluctant, but eventually, star pupil. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | DeVries nodded. "Fair enough Commander," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter set his gaze grimly. //" | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Commanding officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your reputation proceeds you Commander Carter," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I appreciate your speaking with me, Captain."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In my experience, Commander, there is very rarely a good time. However, I do welcome the diversion." | ||
+ | |||
+ | John allowed himself a small chuckle. //"As you say, Captain,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And you were hoping for some, professional advice?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter leaned in, resting his elbows on the desktop. He paused a moment remembering the phrase that his holographic adviser had instructed him to recite. //"The needs of the one outweighed the needs of the many, Captain Saavik."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | In classic Vulcan fashion, Saavik of Vulcan arched her eyebrow. " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: ch' | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the chime sounded on the communications station in his simple, but elegant, the elder, but still fit man attempting to meditate on his latest diplomatic strategy opened his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saavik nodded. //"And you, Ambassador. I bring an unusual request, from a most unusual source."// | ||
Line 2865: | Line 4984: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | The main bridge of the exorbitant Galaxy-Class vessel had been an uncommonly lonely place during the past few weeks as the ship had embarked upon a clandestine mission. Since such had been complete, It had seemingly grown only more so. Those officers and crew still aboard her all had endured a burdensome existence for quite some time with nary the opportunity to take any down time. So as the noble vessel trekked homeward for the first in more than a years time, many of those aboard had taken advantage of the lull in activity to take things easy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Such was not the case on this particular morning though, as the ship crossed the invisible and wholly imagined line that was given on three-dimensional star charts as the peripheral border for Terran system. On this morning, for the first time in nearly a months time, the whole of the senior staff were present and accounted for in their customary locations. Because on this morning, for the first time since the ship had been launched from the Utopia Planitia fleet yards in orbit of Mars, the U.S.S. Republic was coming home. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the center of the bridge sat Martian executive officer Commander Jonathan Thelonius Carter, his hands braced upon his knees as he leaned forward in his seat. In the seat mirror opposite of Carter with a more relaxed posture was the ship's hybrid Ship's Counselor, Lieutenant Commander Reittan Tolkath. Standing at the highest point of the bridge behind and between the two men was Chief of Security Zoe Leila Beauvais, attentively monitoring her consoles readouts despite the nearly non-existent chance of her tactical services being required. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Forward of the command arena upon the port side stations sat long-time assistant Chief Engineer Lieutenant Maria Pakita. Mirroring her post at the starboard side consoles was Chief Medical Officer and acting Chief Science Officer Leon Anderson Cromwell, his arms folded across his chest. At the starboard forward station was second officer and Chief Helmsman Lieutenant Nathan ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Completing the ensemble was Captain Kimberly Lynn Roth, commanding officer of the Starship Republic. Exiting onto the bridge from her ready room, the skipper took a moment to pause outside the threshold to admire the sight of her assembled senior officers with satisfaction as Master Chief Petty Officer Brad Rainer made his way up the narrow ramp to his post at the Damage Control station. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Moving forward once again, Roth approached the center seat - her center seat. As she did, her first officer stood from his own post and nodded in greeting to his commander. "All hands are on deck, ma'am. All departments report status nominal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Favoring her XO with a satisfied expression, Roth nodded in acknowledgment of his report as she took her place in the command chair. "Very good, Commander." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Checking his consoles readouts, the scruffy haired blond Lieutenant answered, "ETA from this mark... seven minutes." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning her focus towards the small command controls upon either arm of her chair, Roth reviewed the status reports that had been filed by each department head earlier in the day. Taking note of one in particular amongst them, she directed her focus to the port side of the bridge. "I see the new holo-system bypass is finally available, Miss Pakita?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning in her seat, Pakita nodded in the affirmative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stopping the younger woman with a raised hand, Roth nodded in understanding. "No need to explain, Lieutenant. It wasn't exactly priority one, not with the engines in the shape they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you like, we could give it a quick test ma' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a single affirmative nod, Roth acknowledged, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Entering a sequence of commands into her console, the familiar form of the ship's emergency medical hologram appeared behind Pakita at the engineering station. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Just testing out a new upgrade, doctor." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Less than a second after the words had left his mouth, Doctor Shannon Harris materialized in the center of the main bridge, and favored Carter with a pleased look. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, it's a bit of a fix to the barn door after the horse has come home, but at least it works." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dismissing the EMH, whom was promptly deactivated, | ||
+ | |||
+ | A comfortable quiet fell upon the bridge for the next few minutes, as each individual considered the past year and change. It had been far from a pleasure cruise, or from uneventful. Both individually and together, they had all faced their fair share of challenges and hardships. Now, the future that was spread out before them was even more of an unknown than normal. What awaited them for certain was repairs and debriefings. What was less certain was whom amongst the crew would be remaining aboard for such, and whom would be rotated to new assignments. Though requests could be made as to such both by the individual and their superiors, it was by no means a guarantee that such would be granted. For many, this ship and the individuals aboard her had become a home away from home. And leaving home was never easy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Upon the wall-sized forward view screen, a small pin-prick of light at the center of the screen began to grow larger. When it was the size of a small coin, it's blue hued oceans wrapped in wisps of white clouds became discernable. Within a matter of moments, it had blossomed to the size of a humanoid head, and the familiar contours of its continents began to come together. To its upper left, another light appeared - the distant but gargantuan form of spacedock, in stationary orbit above the planet. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the sphere dominated nearly a quarter of the view screen, the rocky gray satellite responsible for its tidal forces began to rise from behind it. It was an image that all had seen a dozen, or a hundred, or even a thousand times in their lives. Yet it was one that seemed never to grow less awe inspiring and welcome to either human nor alien alike. It was the capital of the United Federation of Planets, the base for all Starfleet Operations, and the home world to mankind. A world that had overcome it's all that had once divided it: race, religion, ideology, nationality, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The planet known simply, even quaintly to it's native populace, as Earth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How beautiful it was..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A little over eight years." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Has it really bin that long?" Hawk asked rhetorically, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That beats my record of five years," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know, in my entire career, I've never spent more than three years without coming home for at least a visit." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Chiming in from the Operations console, Ensign Cail remarked, "The longest I've ever been away from Bajor was my first two years at the Academy." | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the main viewer, the blue orb that was the crown jewel of the Federation now encompassed more than half of the display. To the upper left quadrant, the distinctive mushroom-shaped form of Starbase 1 -- more commonly referred to as ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The monstrous facility was the equivalent of a city amongst the stars at over twenty-seven-hundred decks in stature. It housed and was operated by a crew compliment of over eighty-five-thousand Starfleet personnel. In addition, it supported a civilian compliment of workers and guests that could balloon and shrink between one-hundred-twenty and two-hundred-forty-thousand individuals. Capable of accommodating up to two-hundred starships and three-thousand small craft at maximum capacity, it was the hub of interstellar activity for the whole system. In the whole of the eight-thousand-light-years that comprised Federation space, only five-dozen facilities of its type existed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Originally, the first of it's kind had been Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On this return though, the Republic would not be amongst the dozens of ships and thousands of people to call spacedock home base. The damage sustained to their engines at the hands of the Dominion during their time in the Gamma Quadrant would require a more dedicated facility to tend to. Amongst the hundreds of orbital habitats, skeletal shipyards, and lesser satellite stations was their destination: | ||
+ | |||
+ | After entering into a standard orbital approach path, Lieutenant Hawk promptly adjusted their course and speed from their to put them on an approach to McKinley. On the forward viewer, the facility itself was already in view. Unlike many of the more common skeletal frame-works that served for repair and refit, these Earth station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Open hailing frequencies, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Punching in the appropriate commands, the Security Chief complied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Earth station McKinley, this is Captain Kimberly Roth of the Starship Republic, requesting permission to dock." said the Captain. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes ma' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Within moments, they were passing a mere three hundred meters below the lower portion of the station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In less than two minutes, the entire process was complete. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you, McKinley. Republic out." replied Roth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment after the words had left her mouth, the last and least pleasant phase of the operation was completed, as all around the bridge, the command and control consoles lost various aspects of their functionality as McKinley assumed those functions. All but one of the aft bridge stations deactivated completely, followed shortly by the weapons systems and shield controls at tactical, warp drive and structural integrity control at engineering, | ||
+ | "Well folks, I'd say that's all she wrote for now. We all have our duties to attend to, lets get to them." said the captain. " | ||
Line 2871: | Line 5088: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: "The Triangle" | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | Strictly speaking, Calder II was a Federation Protectorate. Not big enough to be a colony, or rich enough to be a viable target for mining. The planet was technically Class M, but it was far too dry for Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The thing about Calder II was that it held secrets. As a result, it tended to attract people who did the same. His annoyance growing, Shen pulled up the sleeve of his ballistic weave flyer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shen to Tranquility." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the tell-tale squelch of a point to point laser comm., a lilting soprano giggle came over the comm. channel. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen shifted in his pilot' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You sit. You wait. Or the Captain will dock your share. Got me?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen leaned back again, kicking his feet up on the small shuttle' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pilot shook his head. "Small favors I guess," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Thief, explorer, general troublemaker; | ||
+ | |||
+ | An instant later, the hatch hissed open. Shen leaned his head out, just enough to confirm the speaker' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen squeezed off one more disruptor shot, then let the hatch slide shut and seal. As he backed his way into the control cabin, he called back to the passenger. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the cabin, Vash rolled her eyes fighting the urge to smile. She'd learned not to take threats too seriously. Everyone yelled when they were upset. Very few were as bad as they said once they'd calmed down. The one's that were? Didn't stay in business too long. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a speed that scarcely matched the battered shuttle' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In seconds, the shuttle broke atmosphere, and Shen breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his mother ship, the private freighter Tranquility Maru, hanging in orbit...the shuttle deck was open to space, landing lights blazing against the cold black. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A quick look at the sensor display confirmed to Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the pilot' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen looked back and scowled, shrugging his shoulder to move Vash from being what he considered too close. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: SS Tranquility Maru, en route to Klingon space**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Samantha Jean Karisnky looked over her status board. As the second-in-command of one of the least known, least respected trader vessels in the Triangle, she was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the ship, a lot like an Operations or First Officer would be on a larger ship. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this moment, the, compact, but fit human female was making her way aft, to the galley. She paused before entering the crew space, brushing a crinkly blue curl from her eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the Galley, Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen choked down the last of his (badly) re-sequenced raktigino and set down his mug. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sam crossed her arms over her chest. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen leaned forward. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sam nodded, her wild kinky curls bouncing like an old-fashioned Terran bobble-head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Life as a freelance spacer was hard enough. It was worse when your captain was also your mother, and knew when to make the difference clear. Shen t' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Bridge, SS Tranquility Maru** | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a different time, a different life, Tranquility' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Fate would have it, revolution did come, and eventually, the disgraced Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | That chain of events meant that the Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk and Spock. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Just thinking of the smug pair made her passions flare. She'd wanted them dead, though only one of them was. Now however, Spock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was this reluctant scene that Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The helmsman stood with his hands on his hips. "The hell we are! Gruff finally got this ship working again! Besides," | ||
+ | |||
+ | At that moment, the ship's red alert sounded and over his Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander pivoted her chair. "Good, they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen looked at his mother, then back to the screen, silent. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander walked toward the bridge hatchway, pausing to put a hand on Shen's shoulder. "Time to go home. A visit long overdue." | ||
Line 2877: | Line 5184: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Sector 33, Eight periods out of Epsilon Draconis (Romulan Neutral Zone)**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | Against the black backdrop of space, nearly two-dozen elongated gray shapes slowly plowed the vacuum between stars towards an unknown destination. Each silhouette was composed of over one hundred evenly-spaced interlocked cargo modules held together with a backbone dorsal superstructure that held aloft a pair of warp nacelles and interlaced machinery platforms. Spanning nearly a third of a kilometer long, these ships did not contain any sign of habitation compartments, | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the lead of this austere fleet was a vessel class well-known throughout the space lanes as a Midway-Class Cargo Carrier; one of the few freighter classes actually operated by Starfleet proper rather than independent merchants. In service since the early part of the 24th century, they were manned with a crew of about twelve officers, and outfitted with standard light weaponry and moderate shielding for Federation missions outside the standard commercial lanes. This vessel class boasted the signature Starfleet saucer section, but also possessed a stretched secondary hull composed of a pair of huge cargo bulkheads that terminated with the usual dual-paired warp nacelles. The hull of this particular ship displayed the stenciled letters " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Onboard the tiny bridge of the cargo vessel Liberty were four console stations, a captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I just don't get it," the young, twenty-something ensign in command red commented at the helm station. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Seated in the command chair was a lantern-jawed senior officer with a receding hairline, carrying with him the air of a seasoned spaceship commander. It was none other than Captain Gerald Harding the Third, a grizzled officer who, after a long stint as an academy professor, followed his call to the stars by relegating himself to meager postings to sate his adventurous spirit prior to retirement. Raising an amused eyebrow, the captain responded to the helmsman, "And you don't think a mere freighter has any place in the greater purpose of Starfleet? Ensign, this fleet represents one of the first major trade missions between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. Isn't that important enough for you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe that's alright for a veteran who's capping off his career," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "These ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As long as it's not ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You may yet get your wish, ensign," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Put it on speakers," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ensign at the helm grunted with displeasure. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Easy there, ensign," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Frustrated, the captain rubbed his forehead in thought. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir," the lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir!" the youngster smiled, happy to finally utilize some of his academy training. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | Within twenty minutes, the fleet of robotic Starfleet freighters, together with their manned lead vessel, the USS Liberty, closed the gap between the ion storm and their original position prior to embarking upon the mission to rescue the stricken spaceliner. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "All shields to maximum," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "There it is!" exclaimed the young helmsman. | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the large screen at the front of the small and cramped bridge, wispy luminescent clouds of hydrogen ions danced off the hull of a gleaming silver space vessel with a plethora of viewports and observations domes scattered its surface. The sleek shape was vaguely reminiscent of a Sovereign-Class starship, yet instead of deflector arrays and torpedo launchers, luxury shuttle bays and docking stations for personal craft adorned the crisp, clean superstructure. Emblazoned on either side was the livery of Galactic Cruise Liners, and the vessel' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the distorted images flickered from the ionic disturbances outside, over a dozen fuzzy elongated shapes came into view out beyond the space-liner' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What are those?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "They look like ore freighters," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Do it," remarked the captain as he tapped a button on his armrest. A boatswain whistle sounded over the intercom as he opened the the channel to the rest of his dozen or so crew aboard the manned freighter. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the screen in front, numerous pin-pricks of light were swarming around the distant freighter echoes, growing brighter and more luminescent as they grew near. Their flight path was erratic, but one thing was clear: They weren' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, luminous streaks of yellow light heralded the arrival of numerous honeycombed-shaped fighter craft, each on a direct collision course with the Liberty. The shields of the cargo carrier barely glimmered as the suicidal craft punched gaping holes in the energy field, impacting on the hull shortly afterwards. | ||
+ | |||
+ | One fighter impact released enough antimatter comparable with a photon torpedo from a Galaxy Class starship. One explosion alone might have limited the damage enough for the Liberty to escape her fate. Two were enough to cause grievous harm to many of her vital systems. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Listening Post Morena, Sector 31** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Slowly orbiting a distant gas giant star, a cylindrical vessel with a multitude of solar arrays and communications antennas drifted steadily forward on its wide, circular course through space. The half-kilometer long structure housed many lighted portals and viewports, and the top end terminated with a crowned dome that signified a definitive command deck in the traditional Starfleet bridge design. Within the station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | One console in particular incorporated a large monitor with the familiar LCARS digital border, and contained the title "ION METEOROLOGY: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Focused on this spectacle was a red-bearded lieutenant in operations gold, whose face was filled with concern and consternation, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Behind him, a commander with short curly black hair crossed his arms in frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shall I send out a general distress call for a rescue ship?" asked the lieutenant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I doubt they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At about that time, the long range sensor console lit up. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Liberty?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Same size, sir," the lieutenant at the ion meteorology scanner remarked. "Just no subspace communications uplink or navigational transponder code." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The console warbled as several computer-generated pixels emerged from the storm front on the screen ahead. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "More contacts, sir," the officer jumped on his controls. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But still no communications?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Raising his eyebrow in thought, the lieutenant turned to his superior. "The ion surges in the storm could have damaged their transmitters." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Comm, see if you can raise them on guard frequencies." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The carrier channel?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes sir," he remarked. "And they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On speakers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The spaceliner Golanda is safe, but it suffered major damage to engines, power, and central computer services. We're going to give her a tow to sector zero-zero-two-five-eight."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is your condition?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"We have minor damage to our flux chillers and deflector emitters, but the most notable impacts were to our computers and communications systems. We've still retained remote control of the drone freighters, but the storm overloaded our Chamber' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The officer looked back to his superior, his eyebrow arching in realization that his previous conclusion about a communications outage was correct. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "With only their beacon, that explains the lack of a navigational network uplink," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The lieutenant carried out his order and re-opened the channel. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A silence persisted for about five seconds before an answer came. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The Coridan ore processing station."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The commander nodded. "As good a place as any. Record the change in the navigational tracking network." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, unregistered ore freighter, sector 11** | ||
+ | |||
+ | "...We will reset our transponder beacon as directed, and implement repairs as soon as possible. Liberty out." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The half-Romulan, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took only a few seconds of gawking at the screen before a wide smile crept across the communications officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Put me on speakers to all vessels in the fleet." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding to the communications officer, the channel closed, and Shavis turned back towards the command chair. However, before he could sit, a new comm signal chirped, and the officer announced, "new signal from one of our ships, your highness." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis nodded to indicate his wish to open a channel. On the screen, a lanky, grizzled old Klingon with a scar across his cranial ridge stared back with penetrating eyes. Although Klingons aren't known for smiling on a regular basis, this particular one showed no sign of having ever smiled, and simply glowered towards Shavis with tired, resigned eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is it?" asked Shavis coldly. "And it better be good." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"My ship's engines were damaged during the ion storm,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis felt the burning rage inside him. Glaring with his ebony black eyes, he watched the warrior on the screen reach for his sacrificial blade in anticipation of his own death at Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"We can go as far as Benecia Colony."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis smiled. It was perfect. One of the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then Benecia it shall be," concluded Shavis. "Go forth my friend, and show the humans that they no longer rule your people. Qapla!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"For the New Dawn,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Calmly, Shavis returned to the command seat and gave his next order. "Comm, contact the Gondola and freighters eight through eleven, and have them take up formation alongside us for the next leg of our journey. Send the destination orders to the rest fleet, and instruct them to disperse to their destinations as soon as they can get underway." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Right away, your highness," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
Line 2883: | Line 5391: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: IRV Darkwing, near Epsilon Draconis, Romulan Neutral Zone** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Though generally understood by the wider galaxy to mean ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | At Darkwing' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking at the screen, Charvanek nodded grimly. "I would prefer to, yes." She said flatly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then we have to go through the storm." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek set her gaze on the forward viewer. "In we go then." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The charged particles that made up an ion storm typically made warp travel impossible, and eddies and currents within the storm made relativistic travel almost as dangerous. Crossing the threshold of the storm the crew of the Darkwing braced themselves. While they were jostled and buffeted, no one on the bridge seemed worse for wear, and for the moment, the ship's systems stayed green. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the groans of stressed metal and other noise, Shen shouted for his captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rather than call for the image to be displayed, Charvanek keyed a control on the arm of her chair and showed it herself. On the ship's main viewer, a wide field of debris was also at the mercy of the ion storm. "Hmm, big." She commented. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On most Romulan ships, the helmsman was in charge of steering the vessel and if necessary, firing her weapons. Navigators were tasked with charting and updating the ship's course, and unlike the Federation or Klingon navies, were also charged with making sense of the ship's sensor data. At this moment, a young officer named Kiska checked her display. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good luck finding those in this feldercarb." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Did the storm destroy them?" Charvanek asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska shook her head, her single tight braid of brown hair slipping over her left shoulder as she moved. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Again, Kiska shook her head in the negative. "The ore might have been valuable once processed, but not in it's raw state. Why would they bother?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was an odd flash of movement on the screen as Shen was again forced to pitch the scout ship down and to port. Though no one could see it, there was a smile on his face. Then he spoke up. "Did anyone else see that?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska brought her head up from the sensor display, her face screwed into a look of disapproval. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek leaned back in her chair, confident enough in her son's piloting skill. Her fingers flew across her own chair display. On the small screen, she called up the visible light data from Darkwing' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And then, there it was, just as Shen had observed. A piece of hull plating with visible markings. ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska lifted her head again, this time looking over her shoulder, back to the Captain. "With respect, Commander..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander almost smiled. ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And with that, the matter was settled. Darkwing would continue on her mission, and no other events would delay or deter the endeavor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Personal flier ' | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth rubbed his temples as he stared at the uncooperative computer screen. It had taken a sizable portion of his personal wealth to gain access to secured Starfleet PERSCOMM files, and now, they were apparently useless. He squinted again through his frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a fit of rage, Tomaleth balled his fingers into a tight fist and shoved it through the screen. There was a small electronic ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth spat out a curse as he pulled his hand from the shattered data unit. A few small shards of glass were stuck in his knuckles, and rivulets of dark green blood began to flow down his fingers. He screamed again; this time, out of pain, rather than anger. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the disgraced former officer stood up from his desk, the door to his room slid open. A frantic looking young Romulan stepped quickly into the room, waving the smoke from his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the far wall, Tomaleth was holding his hand under the refresher unit, trying to staunch the bleeding. He rolled his eyes as his annoyance began to boil over. "Calm DOWN, Veln!" He barked at the youngster. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Following his return to Romulan space, Tomaleth had been forced to call in every personal and political favor he'd accumulated during his thirty-plus year career in the Romulan Navy to keep from ending up on the wrong end of a disruptor squad. One of the favors he'd had to make good on was taking Veln t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln's father, an over-ambitious Senator with a talent for blackmail, but not much else, had dreams of bringing the Federation to it's knees by exploiting the corruption and vice that MUST have lurked beneath the UFP's all-too sterling exterior. The Senator saw Tomaleth as a means to an end, and had hoped that Veln would learn by doing. Sadly, the things Veln had done were more likely to see him as the victim OF blackmail, rather then profiting from it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of all the things that Tomaleth could say about Veln, at least the boy was loyal. Something, Tomaleth noted, that his father never had been. Tomaleth winced as his young assistant took his hand and tried to assess the wound. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Here, let me." Veln instructed as he tilted the older man's hand this way and that under the light. "What happened?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth grumbled. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked concerned at more than his mentor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth inhaled sharply as he pulled his hand away from the boy's attention. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln knelt down, looking under the refresher for a synthskin tube, standard on most personal craft of this class. "What do you mean?" He asked as he searched. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Does that Ferengi worm really expect me to believe that Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finding the first-aid box, Veln stood up and set it on the corner of the refresher unit. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln nodded as he sprayed the contents of the tube across Tomaleth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But what?" Veln looked on, confused. "So, she doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "She doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile Veln stroked the bottom of his chin. "Then, it's a good thing you didn't kill the Earther." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth snapped out of his masochistic fugue. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Which I SHOULD have!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But since you DIDN' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: IRV Darkwing, entering the Rho Tucanae system** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska didn't bother to look up from the sensor display. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek nodded. "Just as it should be." The Commander moved toward the hatch to make her way toward the ship's ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You will confirm the location of the human, order battle conditions, and commence transport." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the Navigator' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen's shoulder' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you." Charvanek said as she left the bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A few seconds went by as Kiska alternated looking at the sensor display, then to Shen. More seconds went by before the dark-haired navigator spoke. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen kept his eyes on the viewer. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska felt her eyebrow arch. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen simply nodded. "Oh, yes." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | In the flier' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a weak flinch, Sean McTaggart pulled his head away. His eyes flitted open. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln shook his head. "No, no Sean," he said calmly. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean McTaggart would have spit in the Romulan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, Veln looked genuinely hurt. "I don't blame you Sean." The Romulan pivoted in his chair and found a hypo-spray among the infirmary' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart nodded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Now Sean," Veln advised, pressing the hypo-spray to Sean's bare forearm. | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart heard the hiss and felt the burn of some sort of chemical entering his veins. His muscles strained against the straps at his wrists, but he could no more free himself than he could keep whatever it was the Romulan had given him from doing its work. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite his predicament, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln frowned. "So I've heard, but what about him? Why do you follow him? Why would you die for him?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart felt the muscles in his face relax. He didn't want to answer Veln's question, but he still felt his mouth opening to speak, despite willing it not to. "He saved my life." Sean said softly. "Gave me a chance. He...makes me want to do my job better. I don't want to let him down." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln nodded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course you are." Veln leaned back, turning to set the hypo back in its place. "But, you don't really think a man like him has friends, do you Sean?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You might be HIS friend Sean, but he's not REALLY yours, is he? Not like Virtus. Not like Dr. Harris. Isn't that so?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean shook his head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well no..." Sean agreed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No Sean." Veln repeated, his voice more forceful and insistent. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart repeated the phrase in whispers. To press the point, Veln moved even closer, whispering in Sean's ear. "You can still get out of this, Sean." He offered. "But I need you to do something for me. One small thing, and you can go home. You want to go home, don't you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then all I need you to do Sean, is..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before Veln could finish the sentence, the ship was rocked violently to one side. A second later, red alert sounded throughout the small craft. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Through his blurred vision, Sean McTaggart could see the infirmary' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a blur of motion, Veln got up from his stool. He stumbled as the yacht was rocked again by weapons fire. The young aide made it to the wall-mounted comm. unit and slapped the control. "Veln to bridge! What's happened? Are we...are we under attack?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the open channel, Veln could hear a number of voices on the bridge; all frantically trying to assess the situation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Aft deflector gone!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln's eyes went wide as he heard the unmistakable swish-chime of a Romulan transporter. Then, he thought he could make out the clank of metal on metal and screaming. Finally, he heard a voice he didn't recognize. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Then the channel closed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A woman?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth rushed into the room, locking the door behind him. He shot Veln an accusing look, then, grunted in self-loathing as he realized he'd left the control for the Earther' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth needed something sharp, but simple. His eyes scanned of a laser scalpel, a dermal regenerator, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Looks like I get to kill you after all, Earther." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, Sean McTaggart felt his emotions swing wildly. A moment ago, he'd have done anything, said anything, to go home. Now though, he was going to die. He smiled as he realized he'd be going home after all, in a manner of speaking. "Looks like." | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was another shake of the ship and the lighting in the infirmary flickered. Veln braced himself against the bulkhead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth whirled, brandishing the weapon at his young aide. "For once in your besotted life, boy, BE QUIET!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln threw up his hands. "Well you can't kill him now," he pleaded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth cackled with grim determination. "I WILL kill him now, BECAUSE it's too late." He explained. "And if you're not careful, you'll be next!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The former Sub-Commander turned his attention back to his prey as the room was filled with a high-pitched whine, and the charge of a transporter beam. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln tilted his head as he tried to process what his eyes were seeing. He'd expected a human, perhaps with an eye-patch, if intelligence on Carter was right. Instead, he saw a Romulan female. She was of average height, and Veln could see from the pronounced ribbons of grey in her black hair that she had to be over one-hundred and twenty years old. Despite her age, the intruder seemed ready for whatever awaited her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked her over, hoping for a sign of rank or affiliation. He found none. The woman was wearing a civilian model vacuum suit marked with red seams. She could have been anyone from any of a dozen trading ports in this sector alone. Apart from her obvious age, the only thing that gave any clue to her identity was the disruptor pistol in her right hand, and the sword in her left. Veln recognized the sword as the ceremonial weapon of a naval officer, though that tradition had long since been abandoned. The sheen of green blood on the blade also told the young man that this particular weapon was anything but ceremonial. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, Tomaleth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek didn't answer. She simply leveled her disruptor and fired. The yellow beam that shot from the weapon impacted Tomaleth square in the chest, and as the disruptor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know EXACTLY who you are," she said with surprising calm. "And I don't care." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a simple flick of her thumb against the side of her pistol, Charvanek shifted the weapon to it's highest setting, took aim, and fired. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was a brief orange flash, and the unmistakable smell of charred flesh and bone as what was left of Tomaleth (which wasn't much at all) fell to the deck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shocked by what he had just seen, Veln felt his temper flare. He clenched his fists and threw himself at his mentor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked down and blinked as he saw the strange woman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek pulled her weapon from the young Romulan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The dead Romulan fell to the deck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still strapped in the chair, with an impressive view of what had just happened, Sean McTaggart choked out weak laugh. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without a word, his mysterious rescuer moved swiftly to unbuckle his restraints. Then she took hold of him under the arm, pulling him up. "Can you walk?" From her tone of voice, it was a rhetorical question. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean leaned on the thin woman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good to know." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean's rescuer pressed a finger to her ear, activating her comm to Darkwing. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean breathed easier as he considered what had just happened. He felt the beginnings of a transporter field as he turned to the woman to whom he owed his life. "Is Commander Carter with you?" he asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | An instant later, they were gone. | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, Berth 2, McKinley Station, Earth System** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Republic had been home for five days, passing inspection and accepting crew, both new and old. Meanwhile, John Carter had busied himself with the considerable job of returning his ship and the people on it to operational readiness. He didn't lack for things needing his attention, and he had managed to keep up appearances fairly well, but if he was honest with himself, his attention was elsewhere. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was in his quarters, during a momentary lull in activity at 1532 hours, that an encrypted message found it's way into the XO's queue. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter felt his pulse race as he leaned forward and entered the cypher to read the message. John was surprised to note that the dispatch was text only; a mark of Starfleet Intelligence. Despite the source, he smiled as he read the contents: | ||
+ | |||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | **John- | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Don't know how "Your Man" ended up at 39 Sierra. Don't WANT to know. Medical reports him in reasonable shape. Psych Eval pending. He says "Thank You." | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Just when I think you can't surprise me. | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | -Chase** | ||
+ | </ | ||
Line 2889: | Line 5713: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Command, San Francisco, North America, Sol III**\\ | ||
+ | **Date: Present day, stardate 58851 (6 November, 2381)** | ||
+ | The sun was shining on the western shores of the North American continent, where the deep blue waters of the Pacific Ocean met the rocky shores of San Francisco Bay. The rust-colored piers of the Golden Gate Bridge offered a warm coloring to the otherwise cool breeze blowing eastward into the city proper. In the distance, the tall pristine-white buildings of Starfleet Command presided over the metropolitan backdrop of towering skyscrapers and space-age structures, intermixed with antique buildings of yesteryear. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Kimberly Roth strolled leisurely down Market Street with her loyal animal companion, Smoke, draped over her shoulder. The growing red eyes of the squirrel-like mammal was content to stay perched, looking at the passing crowd with small twitches of its brown furry head and tufted ears. Strolling with them, was a taller, more seasoned Starfleet officer with the rank of rear admiral. Her short white hair glinted in the sunlight, illuminating it to a more silver hue, suggesting she was at least thirty years Kim's elder, if not more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I read your report from Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The rear admiral listened carefully, nodding in acceptance of her explanation. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim had the distinct feeling she was dealing with a " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Even still, there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Even if his Martian anger gets the better of him," Krockover explained. "Go easy. It's a lot to swallow." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The two stopped walking as Kim faced her senior officer with a very direct posture. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think you'll find that John Carter is unusually resilient to surprises these days," she concluded, as Smoke bleaked his two cents with an affirmative response. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | **" | ||
+ | </ | ||
+ | |||
+ | Throughout the expansive Galaxy-Class bridge, only two of Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon only briefly took his eyes away from the PADD to answer the call from the junior operations officer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The repair crew from McKinley Station needs to access the plasma relays on deck eleven, so I need to take internal sensors off-line."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, doctor," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very good," Leon resumed his attention to the PADD. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sven couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John, you're supposed to be off duty," snarked Leon. "Why are you monitoring my bridge activity? For that matter, why are you even aboard? I'd expect you'd be packing your bags or something." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"If memory recalls, the captain said to ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor expressed a sour disposition as the channel closed, annoyed that John was baiting him. Much to the chuckling of Lieutenant Butenhoff, Leon sighed before he stood up and walked towards the turbolift. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You have the bridge, Sven... such as it is." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Triton observation outpost, Sol VIII (Neptune)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Triton, Neptune' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As hostile as this environment was, the natural rivers of super-cooled gasses were a boon to Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside the surface structure, five levels of habitation space allowed room for approximately a hundred Starfleet personnel. Their main priorities were to keep the outpost operational, | ||
+ | |||
+ | A young male lieutenant in command red manned the primary observation station situated towards the front of the room, while a half-dozen other officers kept watch over the other panels. While most of his work dealt with the standard sky-survey that took pictures of multi-spectrum swaths of space and analyzed it for anomalies, the passive infra-red sensor cluster was picking up a small set of six heat signatures approaching the star system. With his fingers dancing across his panel, the lieutenant accessed the telemetry and transponder uplinks, and seconds later, a display of the USS Liberty, the Spaceliner Gondola, and four other robotic freighters from Liberty' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What have we got here?" a confused lieutenant commander asked from the center of the room, turning his attention to the tactical display on the main screen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Wait a minute," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe they had a change in their flight plan since our last computer synchronization with the navigational network," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a sigh of frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Silence followed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still nothing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The silence still persisted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Open a channel through one of the Neptune comsats," | ||
+ | |||
+ | While the lieutenant complied by focusing his attention on the communications panel, a furrow developed in his forehead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Which one CAN you pick up?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "None of them!" came the shocked response. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside the observation post, a constellation of stars in the Neptunian sky above wavered against the unmoving backdrop of the Milky Way. Similar to a flight of fireflies, the stars spun around in circles momentarily before shining brighter and brighter as they drew closer. In a split second, the stars revealed themselves to be a yellow flock of honeycomb-shaped fighter craft hurling themselves towards the ground at breakneck speed. Like a swarm of meteors falling from the sky, dozens of tiny luminescent vessels hurled themselves into the observation post and surrounding facilities. The multiple collisions not only tore through the domed buildings and shuttlecraft landing fields, but obliterated the sophisticated sensor towers and communication relays. As a secondary result, the solid methane crust below the once operational outpost erupted into huge columns of liquid nitrogen and ammonia, further devastating the ground on which the Starfleet facility once sat. In less than a minute, the attack ended, and the twisted, burning remnants of the outpost lay floating and bobbing in a sea of hissing ammonia. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deck 11, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Each deck of a Galaxy Class starship contained numerous power relays to ensure energy from engineering was transferred to the decks above and below in an efficient fashion. This redundant continuity of power, while life-saving during space missions and combat operations, had it's drawbacks when preparing the ship for a system-wide shutdown. It required that each relay be decoupled by hand, and the plasma conduits given enough time to cool down before removing other relays further downstream of the power flow. Put simply, it was a very slow process. As a disheveled Lieutenant Junior-Grade Klaus walked from relay to relay along deck eleven, the gold-uniformed operations officer grumbled about being the only member of the department left onboard while everyone else went on leave, including the current Chief of Operations, Ensign Cail Jarin. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As shown by Ensign Cail's recent promotion to Chief of Operations, his hopes had yet to be realized. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Strangely, the junior lieutenant chuckled as he opened a wall-mounted relay cover next to holodeck six, kneeling down to scan it with a diagnostics wand. The downfall of Ensign Kuga several months ago raised his hopes once gain that he would assume the senior officer posting in operations, and he gleefully recalled the crass memory of Kuga's death during the tractor beam accident in the Gamma Quadrant. As abhorrent as his attitude was towards his fallen crewmate, his view of the universe maintained that he was perfectly justified in his opinion, just as he felt justified about his hate towards Captain Roth for castigating him when he challenged Kuga's original assignment as Chief of Operations. Despite this, Klaus continued to laugh as another thought entered his mind: He wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Find something funny, lieutenant?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, can you do it somewhere else?" asked Carter, with barely a hint of " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Y... Yes sir," relented the lieutenant junior-grade. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a glance of annoyance, Carter turned around to dial up a program on the holodeck keypad, which triggered the doors to open with a mechanical grind. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Klaus watched as the two officers entered the holodeck. The rage at Commander Carter was almost as strong as his hate towards Captain Roth, burning within him as the doors slid shut. In a flash of inspiration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Allowing himself a gasping breath of victory, he celebrated the moment of rebellion before looking down at his PADD. He watched as the blinking subspace data signal he had been waiting for heralded the arrival of a " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Academy Flight Training Operations Center, Mimas, Sol VI (Saturn)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The orbital space platform in orbit of Mimas was a small facility, built for the specific purpose of a traffic control station for Starfleet Academy' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On this day, the bridge of the space platform was tracking six vessels transiting the flight range during a lull in training activities. It was a common occurrence, especially with commercial vessels, but what made it unusual was a lack of communications contact with the freighters. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What did Triton outpost say about them?" asked the commander of flight operations to the sensor officer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sir," acknowledged the junior officer, with a slight hesitation "But we seem to have lost contact with the navigational network. The communications array in orbit of Saturn isn't responding." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite their best try, the space platform was not able to raise Triton outpost on subspace frequencies, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Airlock, Deck 35, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an air of paranoia, Lieutenant Junior Grade Klaus swiftly cycled the atmospheric purge on the portside airlock. The arriving shuttlepod was not cleared through operations, but then, since he was the only operations officer on board at the present time, he felt no need to clear it through the bridge. Watching around the empty arrival lounge, he waited impatiently for the system to complete its purge cycle. With pneumatic hiss and a metallic grind, the airlock door slid open to reveal five humanoid aliens standing in the alcove, each wearing a nondescript yellow jumpsuit that was the signature uniform of standard repair crew from McKinley Station. The aliens were as follows: two Kobheerians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You are Klaus?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pointy-eared humanoid raised an eyebrow before changing the topic. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The hidden control room," he asked. "Where is it?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Deck twenty-six," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Take us there," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Take us there," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Klaus looked torn, to be sure. He wanted to desperately leave Republic before he got caught, but he was counting on the promised gold-pressed latinum in order to abscond from the Earth System without notice. Looking back and forth in the corridor outside, he relented. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The alien only nodded as his compatriots and Lieutenant Klaus made their way to the nearest turbolift shaft. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Jupiter Station, Sol V** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The moderately-sized space station in orbit around Jupiter had a long history of servicing early Starfleet vessels and commercial space ships. Initially built in the twenty-second century as a structural shipyard, it went through various modifications over the centuries as the Starfleet Corps of Engineers found the location convenient for hazardous engine experiments away from the inner solar system, and the Merchant Marine command discovered it was a prime customs port for unregistered vessels heading to Earth. Eventually, other operational commands chose to keep a contingent at the station, and in the twenty-fourth century, was outfitted with two sets of three stacked saucer section hulls from Ambassador-Class starship surplus. The extra space allowed for more than just Starfleet personnel, as a few commercial businesses also took up residence in the years following the most recent expansion, turning Jupiter Station into Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Have you heard from Saturn Flight Control?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I didn't see anything over the outer system channels," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This morning' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Not willing to let such an anomaly go unreported, the ops chief pressed the intercom button. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the captain of the complex emerged from his office in front of the balcony above ops, the entire station lurched from a reverberating explosion. Just as the ops crew managed to get back on their feet, another jolt threw them back down to the deck. Outside, the six stacked saucer sections of Jupiter Station were individually being targeted by blinding streaks of yellow light, as honeycombed-shaped fighter craft barreled into the hulls, causing pieces of the saucer decks to fracture and implode. So fast did the craft collide, that entire sections of the station were flying off in all directions with each impact, until finally, the central power core was eventually breached. In an instantaneous blaze of white light, Jupiter Station was no more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deuterium Tank Catwalks, Deck 28, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the early days of spaceflight, | ||
+ | |||
+ | When Lieutenant Commander Victor Xavier Virtus designed the rudimentary " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While only a select few aboard Republic knew of the " | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the moment, however, Klaus could have strangled Jacobs if he were present. There were already a few close calls with both Republic and McKinley station personnel while Klaus led the band of interlopers to deck twenty-six. Once they were clear of the engineering side-corridors, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You bastards!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The disruptor blast, in true Varon form, tore Klaus' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a brief round of cheers, the aliens resumed their clandestine work, careful not to alert any other control system aboard the ship or McKinley Station to their presence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are the other teams signaling yet?" the Romulan asked the Nausicaan at the sciences console. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But no abort signal?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No. They must still be working their way to the bridge." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sitting in the command chair in the center of the room, the Romulan leader leaned his elbow on one of his knees, and stroked his chin in thought as the beeping and chirping of the newly energized equipment hummed around him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As soon as you hear from them, send a signal to Shavis: We're ready..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Sol IV (Mars)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Communications within the Earth System Commonwealth were complex, with it's vast array of communication satellites (comsats) and relay stations (restats) transiting the lunar orbits of the eight primary planetary systems within. The communications were also very simple in design, as signals were relayed from planet to planet in a leap-frog fashion, depending upon the orbital locations of the planets and their moons at any particular point in time. Due to this, a distress signal from Mars would normally have been bounced off of the communications array at Jupiter station, with orbiting Mars comsats boosting the signal as a backup. However, both networks were now gone, and the pleas for help from the surface of Utopia Planetia were left unheard. Had it been facing it's nearest planetary neighbor, the light from the exploding barbell-shaped orbital station around Mars would have easily been seen from Earth. As it was, only Jupiter and Saturn were facing that particular side of Mars at the moment, and there was no one left in those planetary systems to see it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In orbit, the destruction of Utopia Planetia' | ||
+ | |||
+ | However, that was only one freighter. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As a second vessel from the rogue ore fleet entered the Mars system, it performed a concurrent attack on the surface facilities. Gawking onlookers were incinerated as a 500-megaton antimatter blast engulfed the sprawling metropolis and surface shipyards of Utopia Planetia, which were filled with half-constructed vessels still in their berths. In a radius of a hundred kilometers, red dust was thrown up into the thin Martian atmosphere, forming a gargantuan mushroom-cloud that towered so high that dust particles were thrown into sub-orbital trajectories, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The attack was finished as quickly as it came, leaving the few remaining Martian colonists to their own devices. Without their vital links to the rest of the Earth System Commonwealth, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Apollo asteroid 1566 Icarus, 7 million miles from Earth** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hiding at station-keeping beside the small asteroid, Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis smiled when he saw the four blinking green lights on his chair-mounted console. The infiltration teams had completed their tasks in Earth orbit, and were awaiting the next phase. His attack on sector zero-zero-one was so insidiously simple, he worried for months whether he could truly pull it off. Now, as the homeworld of the Federation was in his crosshairs, the plan was going so well that even if he failed in the upcoming final phase, the humans would still require years to recover - assuming that the rest of the Syndicate factions don't move in for the kill first. Two more antimatter-laden freighters awaited their final orders, as well as the hijacked spaceliner manned by his insectoid drones. The passengers screamed in terror when they fed on their flesh, and now, with full gullets, the genetically-altered Kaferian renegades were ready to show Earth what real fear was really like. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right to show the humans just how far Faro could reach out from the grave. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right for the New Dawn to be born. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right to unleash hell. | ||
Line 2895: | Line 6016: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Sol III (Earth)** | ||
+ | From orbit, Planet Earth was a serene, hypnotic jewel blessed with life among the distant backdrop of countless shimmering stars of the Milky Way Galaxy. Pearlescent azure oceans and billowing white clouds swirled and converged together into complex and discrete patterns on its surface, occasionally parting to reveal terrestrial land masses in numerous shades of green, brown, and tan. Lit by the the life-giving heat and warmth of her single star, Sol, this planet gave rise to the human race; a most creative, adaptable, and diplomatic species that evolved from a meager tree-dwelling simian species to a unified spacefaring kingdom in the span of only two million years - a blink of an eye in cosmic terms. This species, destined to see itself as ambassadors to all like-minded spacefaring races, saw fit to offer their homeworld as the foundation of a mighty galactic federation during the twenty-second century. A mere century later, they erected a monumental orbital construct that would become Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hosting almost a third of a million souls, Spacedock was the main starship command platform of Starfleet, and regularly saw the docking and departing of dozens of vessels on a daily basis. Boasting numerous construction and repair berths inside the mushroom-shaped head of the titanic facility, the outer hull was replete with multitudinous lighted viewports, and crowned at the top with a platform of sensors, antennas, and domed habitation modules. The largest of these modules contained the cavernous command deck where nearly one hundred uniformed personnel manned various control and monitoring consoles on a series of tiered platforms. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The central command platform alone had at least two dozen officers stationed on it, some standing at pedestal-style stations, while others were seated in recliner-like alcoves, tending multi-faceted viewscreens that hosted a dizzying array of information nodes. The air was filled with a cacophony of communications chatter, most of which was standard arrival and departure orders in addition to a multitude of clearances, transfer orders, and navigational flight plans for both Starfleet vessels and independent commercial ships within the control airspace of Earth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a pair of adjoining alcoves, two senior officers, a commander and a lieutenant commander, were hard at work at their respective consoles. They wore the branch color of operations gold along the piping of their black uniforms, and like so many other on the command deck, sported a headset for inter-ship communications as well as other operating stations around Spacedock. While the two worked, the lieutenant commander showed an expression of frustration as he typed commands into his keyboard, with a furrow in his forehead growing deeper with each passing moment. Finally, he vented his annoyance to the officer next to him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Looks like we lost that uplink to Mars central control again, commander." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know the saying: Tell a Martian to jump, and they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, outside of Spacedock, two vessels from Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The young female ensign in command red was a new controller on the command deck, tasked with monitoring smaller non-Starfleet vessels within a three kilometer radial sphere surrounding Spacedock. When the computer first signaled that the Gondola was on an approach vector, it beckoned the attention of a sentient controller, and immediately assigned a crewmember to the task. In this case, the ensign was the unlucky one that the computer first chose to contact the incoming spaceliner. As it was, the Gondola failed to respond to her communique, and as she became flustered, she beckoned her supervisor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Walking over to the ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It looks like Listening Post Morena logged that ship as damaged during an ion storm in Beta Quadrant," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the apex of the central command platform was a five-meter wide circular desk with a transparent overhead shroud that displayed various digital maps of Earth airspace. The desk itself was the operational station of Commodore Eugene Stevenson, a sixty-something veteran of the Dominion war, whose white curly hair was complimented by a set of equally white, bushy eyebrows. His brown eyes were difficult to perceive, as he bore an almost perpetual squint under several wrinkles and folds of aged skin. His square-shaped head gave the impression that he was a solid officer, and after surviving twenty-six major engagements with enemy forces during the war, it was a well-deserved reputation. He sat at his desk, scrolling through numerous operational reports, but finally took note of growing operational variances from the communications department. Not wanting to don a communications headset like so many of his subordinates, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Strolling up behind the commander and lieutenant commander who made the comment about the Mars satellite network a few minutes ago, he beckoned their attention by asking a simple question. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Is there an issue with our communications system, gentlemen?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sir," the commander replied. "We have ship-to-ship contact with all vessels in the vicinity of Earth, but we can't re-establish our uplink with Luna Colony, nor with any other facility towards the outer solar system. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Solar flare activity?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If it is, it's not something the solar observatories are monitoring." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The commodore folded his arms with a quizzical expression, holding a knuckle to his lips in thought. After a second of going through all the possible mundane situations that could be causing the communications outage, he arrived at a course of action. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Send out a navigational advisory for vessels in Earth orbit," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | From across the command platform, an operations lieutenant manning the long-range telemetry station shouted an ominous announcement. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On speakers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a split second, the dizzying array of individualized status reports from various command deck sections were replaced with the waning gibbous phase of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shrieks of horror and astonishment filled the room as an epic-sized gray cloud of ash and dust had enveloped the entirety of Tycho Crater, and began to mushroom out into space. Without needing an order to do so, an alert klaxon sounded as the realization that something very wrong had happened to Luna Colony' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell happened??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Their municipal antimatter generator could have gone critical," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Three sir. One Excelsior class, an Intrepid class, and an Akira class, the USS Lamberton." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, aye, commodore." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside in the gigantic main docking bay, lights on the three docked starships were activating, and the warp nacelles were powering up; their red and blue luminescence reflecting off the inside walls of the bay. Over the sound of the alert klaxons, the computer announced the disembarking procedures to personnel throughout the command deck and docking levels: | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, the approaching Spaceliner Gondola went unnoticed, as it's delta-vee towards Spacedock did not change. As the primary measure of velocity for the approaching vessel, a negative delta-vee would indicate a slowdown to the correct docking speed; except that the Gondola' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside the main docking bay, the departing starships, which had been freed of their moorings and were making their way to the open space doors, remained on a smooth trajectory when suddenly, the entire docking bay moved around them. The inertia from the explosion eight hundred decks below caused the whole station to lose attitude control, and the docking bay walls loomed ever closer to the line of vessels trying to disembark. A collision alrm sounded, but unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the command deck, personnel were thrown to the deckplates from the inertia of Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Fournier, Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How much do you want to bet this isn't an accident?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean?" Commodore Stevenson returned. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Think about it: Communications failures... Luna Colony destroyed... Now a collision with Spacedock? Sir, with all due respect, this sounds like an attack. I don't know by who or by what, but I suggest we bring the entire planet to red alert." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Only the C-in-C has that authority, captain." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a moment of thought, the seasoned flag officer nodded his head in agreement. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very well. Bring us to red alert. Use what power we have left to activate defense systems, and divert all incoming Earth traffic to Utopia Planetia." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir," the captain responded, followed very shortly by the entire command deck being bathed in a deep-red light, and battle stations alert siren being sounded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, shuttles and travelpods that were on a docking trajectory for the damaged space station changed course and began either heading back to the surface, or out towards the distant destination of Mars. All, that is, except for the one lone ore freighter two kilometers away and closing. It did not adjust its course, nor did it respond to hails. Back on the command deck, a swarm of senior officers were converging on the young ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Still no response from the laser-light signals or navigational strobes?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A few short bursts, sir," a lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fire at will, captain..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Whether they detected the powered up weapons, or whether the change in course was intended, the rogue ore freighter changed it's path just as the high-powered phaser cannons shot an angry orange lance of energy towards it. Diving into a lower trajectory, the freighter increased its speed, missing the station by flying below it, where the amputated stump that was the lower section of Spacedock still glowed with sparks of fire and broken energy conduits. Accelerating, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a simple matter of Newtonian physics: Force equals mass times acceleration. Or deceleration in this case. The mass of the expanding cloud of ultra-dense ore particles from the explosion was in the direct orbital path of Spacedock. At three hundred and fifty kilometers above the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Quickly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The spinning globe of Earth beneath them was visibly accelerating as the height above ground dropped to below three hundred kilometers. The free fall-effect lightened the gravity throughout the station to 80% of Earth normal, and although personnel on Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The book was titled " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, docked at McKinley Station in sun-synchronous Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | For a ship in drydock that was about to be shutdown, the Republic was unusually active. While the warp drive was offline and inactive, and most viewports remained dark and lifeless, only few lighted windows showed any sign of activity. However, the most unusual feature was that main impulse engine on the connecting dorsal was coming to life, glowing a bright crimson as the fusion generators charged up. Stranger still, McKinley Station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Considering the turmoil of the attacks within the Earth System, one might assume that the Republic was preparing to rush to the rescue of Spacedock or some other nearby destination. However, nothing could be further from the truth, as the empty main bridge contained only one lone individual. With the alert klaxon blaring, Lieutenant Sven Butenhoff was frantically securing all stations while the subspace transceiver came to life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is there any possible way you can spare the time to assist?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sven knew that it was unusual for the executive officer to have left the ship without telling him, but the situation came upon Republic so rapidly, it could be that the commander evacuated with the McKinley Station crew and was trying to resolve the situation from there. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While the lieutenant was keen enough to have brought internal sensors back online for the evacuation, he did not have the time nor reason to check the sensor matrix, where he would have noticed that it was purposefully sabotaged by Lieutenant Klaus before he was killed. In fact, a gaping hole in the detection grid could be traced from deck eleven, to deck twenty six, and all the way down to the deck thirty five airlock. Pulled power relays were only a cover for what appeared to be an intricate escape plan by Klaus; one that he never had the chance to implement. With Commander Carter and Doctor Cromwell unwittingly trapped in holodeck six, and a rogue band of terrorists self-sequestered in the ship's makeshift deuterium tank bridge, there was no way for anyone else to confirm that the sensors were malfunctioning. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the German instinct inside him that begged the junior engineer to stay aboard and make sure everyone was off safely. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With speed increasing, the evacuated Galaxy Class starship accelerated to warp zero-point-eight and began it's final journey to between the orbits of Venus and Mercury, where the explosion of the antimatter containment system would occur safely away from Earth airspace. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Crazy Horse (Excelsior class), geosynchronous Earth orbit over Indonesia** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Well known as the " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The bridge of the starship instantly became a beehive of activity, with the condition-red tracer lights pulsating off the walls, and officers shuffling two and fro between stations in a hurried manner. Wearing the standard black Starfleet officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir," the female lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The lack of response caused a flash of anger to ripple through the bipedal suidae skipper. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The door to the turbolift suddenly opened, and in front of the stubby captain stood a two-meter tall muddy-brown insectoid alien with fierce black mottles on its shell. It's compound eyes and twitching antennae adorned a head that boasted a quivering maw and a set of reflexive mandibles. The Tellarite only had time to scream a hysterical squeal before the hexapedal drone lunged towards him, ripping into the officer with a sickening crunch. As more insectoid drones poured through the second turbolift door, the communications officer stood up and wailed in horror while torrents of blood splattered across the expansive bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Gettysburg (Constellation class), polar Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | As a training vessel attached to Starfleet Academy, the Gettysburg was a common site around Earth. If she wasn't off on a minor training cruise around the system, she was in orbit teaching freshman cadets the finer points of spartan living aboard a cramped starship. Although not usually used for active duty, the Gettysburg was a fully equipped Starfleet vessel capable of holding her own with the rest of the fleet during a full-blown deployment. In fact, cadet crews transferred to her so often, nearly every officer in Starfleet knew about her and her capabilities. During this emergency, the transporters at the academy went into action, and lights began to click on sporadically across the Gettysburg' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Honshu (Nebula class), nearing apogee, highly elliptical (Molniya) Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Molniya orbits are the most efficient orbits for a starship expecting to leave the gravitational pull of a planet within twenty-four hours and still be in rotational sync with a particular region on the surface. Unlike a geosynchronous orbit, the highly eccentric Molniya orbit has an apogee that requires minimal energy to transfer a vessel into a parabolic course away from Earth. While the energy savings are small compared to the amount available aboard a starship, many captains nonetheless practice energy conservation as a matter of convention, so as to drill the habit into the crew. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Such was the case with the USS Honshu, where British Columbia native, Captain Richard MacKenzie, was preparing his vessel for departure after an extended shore leave on Earth. However, as the emergency message came through from Starfleet Operations, it was clear that they would not be concerned with fuel savings on their next set of orders. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the navigation officer complied, the deckplates vibrated as normal during the engine power-up, but did not stop as they should have when the engine was fully engaged. Instead, the magnitude of the vibrations increased, and in one jolt that almost knocked the captain out of his chair, the vibrations ceased and the vessel began to drift. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an incredulous furrow on his face, the captain watched the screen in disbelief as the two warp nacelles that were once firmly attached to his ship went spinning off into space. The explosive bolts that are used only for emergency purposes had apparently been detonated prematurely, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the HELL??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, the circumstances in main engineering were beyond tense, bordering on chaos. Several engineering personnel had been clubbed to death by alien aggressors who were, just moments ago, subdued by the quick reactions of the security department. However, as bodies lay strewn about the compartment in pools of their own blood, it was clear that the situation was not at all under control. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With wide-eyed astonishment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"An INCIDENT?? Fred, what the hell are you talking about?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The engineer was intently watching a male Palamarian pointing a disruptor pistol at the warp core. It was clear by his expression that the alien was not intent on surrendering to the security contingent who was quickly converging on his position. "For the New Dawn!" he bellowed loudly, causing his voice to echo throughout the engineering compartment. The Palamarian then pulled the trigger, and in a calamitous cascade of white light, the Honshu was no more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Sulik was not planning on a trip to Earth, but her Vulcan parents suggested a stopover on her way to Starbase 213. They felt a face-to-face meeting with the Commandant of Starfleet Academy would somehow absolve her younger sister' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The single most unknown variable in Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Starship Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The helmsman barely had time to acknowledge before the entire ship shuttered from a forceful impact. Bridge stations exploded into sparks and flames, while hull fissures shot geysers of supercooled air in all directions. Alert klaxons sounded while the captain straightened herself in her chair. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, the puny scout/ | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Crazy Horse** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The rogue terrorist sitting in the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It would be a glorious death. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Normally, the current mode of surface attack would work for only planets with a thin atmosphere or none at all, as Shavis knew that any surface attack on Earth would have been fruitless. It would have taken an agonizingly long duration for a simple atmospheric re-entry maneuver, during which the attacking vessel would be vulnerable to counter-attack by orbiting starships and Spacedock proper. Now, however, the orbit was cleared of such obstacles, and Spacedock itself was crippled in it's decaying orbit, no longer a threat. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking over his shoulder, J'Dan spied the renegade Kaferian mutants that accompanied him aboard the Crazy Horse after beaming over from the Gondola. Some were dutifully sitting at their control stations, while others were still gratifying themselves by feasting on the innards of dead officers splayed out along the deck. The bridge was mottled in the blood of humans and alien human allies alike, giving J'Dan a euphoria of vengeance, and causing his own blood to boil with the fever of revenge. Glancing around at the death and destruction, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the New Dawn!" he bellowed, and the chorus of cicada-like stridulations resonated throughout the bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Paris, France, Sol III** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Place de la Concorde was twenty-acre parcel of land situated in the middle of Paris. During the French Revolution, the rebel government erected a guillotine in the center of the square where important heads of state were executed on site, often in front of cheering crowds. Thousands were beheaded in the square before some semblance of civility would be re-established, | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the soon-to-be retired Andorian president, Wolmac D' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The amount of antimatter stored on the starship was tantamount to about fifty kilotons of trinitrotoluene, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Command deck, Earth Spacedock** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The captain of engineering stood hunched over the commodore' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pall of the words descended upon the attending officers with the weight of an entire planet. The commodore, who was well-known for being composed and level-headed under extreme pressure during the Dominion War, bore an expression of both shock and disbelief, unable to find a resolution to their current predicament. With wide-eyed astonishment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Begin the evacuation..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Deep down inside, each of the command officers knew that it was an impossible task, at least not within the time allotted. It was clear that the commodore was hoping to save at least a few of the remaining 250,000 lives aboard the station before it met its fiery fate. Under extreme circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | He was praying for a miracle that would not come. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Moon itself had been considered a lifeless rock for many centuries until the human inhabitants of Earth chose to take their first steps to the stars and colonize its closest celestial neighbor. What took centuries to build - a technological mecca of sophisticated interconnected space colonies on the lunar surface - was destroyed in seconds. The smoldering remains of Tycho City, a bastion of civilization spanning eighty kilometers, was nothing more than a fuming crater of burning embers. Signals from Earth, which were normally routed through Tycho' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | For centuries, the canals of Mars were the source of science fiction and speculation among the inhabitants of Earth, sparking fantastic ideas of extraterrestrial aliens and giant cities funneling life-giving meltwater from the polar regions of the planet. In the twenty-first century, the first human explorers of the Martian surface revealed the planet to be a lonely place; desolate and benign, and beckoning Earthlings to carve out a new, unique civilization of their own. Utopia Planetia, once the bedrock foundation of a mighty Starfleet, had been reduced to over ten-thousand square kilometers of flattened, lifeless, and mangled refuse in one felt swoop. Pillars of red smoke billowed from burning craters that were once solidly-built, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | In the blackness of space, the dim yellow light of Sol shone brightly across the vast interstellar distances. Its solar wind was steady and unrelenting, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The static-laced break in the transmission suggested the operator was so urgently hoping for a response, that he allowed a precious few seconds to pass so as to listen intently for reply. Sadly, there was none. So weak was the signal that it was completely lost among the background scatter of natural, stellar-induced static of the galactic abyss. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is there anybody there?... Anybody at all?"// | ||
Line 2901: | Line 6376: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | The deafening roar of the stadium crowd was flooding into the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was over in a split second. As he saw the gaggle of green-jerseys emblazoned with " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the players dispersed, the opposing team smiled and congratulated themselves while a lone Maverick player pulled off his helmet and face guard while walking towards the doctor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on, Leon!" shouted John. "At least try to look as if you're ENJOYING this!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think I'm cut out for organized sports," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I said I'm not *cut out* for it," Leon retorted. "I didn't say I didn't respect it." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fair enough," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are we done here, then?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | John was about to suggest they play another match without the stadium crowd, but as he looked at the doctor attempting to regain his breath, he realized that maybe they both had had enough. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on," John patted Leon on the back. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon smiled and looked at his friend when it suddenly dawned on them both that something was peculiar: The holodeck doors had not opened after ending the program, which was the standard protocol. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Registering a negative warble, the computer disobeyed with an ominous reply. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the HELL??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Comm channels are locked out," John stated while struggling with the obstinate computer. "We have no access to anything requiring a user logon." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a positive chirp, the computer obliged the faux need for medical assistance by bringing Shannon Harris into existence on the holodeck. She looked mildly bewildered after being pulled out of her diagnostic cycle, but immediately spied the two officers, provoking a grin on her face. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Did you boys miss me so much that you couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | She scowled with confusion at the request, then looked towards the floor as her program made it's way into the restricted portion of the computer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without warning, the look of confusion on Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Oh my GOD!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Low Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It began as a futile yet hopeful attempt by a small fleet of service shuttlecraft, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Off-gassing from the ablative effect of ozone and upper atmospheric ionization impacted Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Structural break-up commenced over the Canary Islands, as the single blinding sphere of orange light fluttered, heralding the dissociation of three distinct sections of Spacedock that pulled themselves apart like molten slag flowing out of a blast furnace. Lives were extinguished and bodies burned to carbon as a cacophonous rumble resonated across the sky from horizon to horizon. The turbulence sent pieces of white-hot debris peeling off the disintegrating hull, which broke apart into thousands of diminutive orange streamers as they rode the shockwave all the way to the ground. In distinctly rapid succession, multiple sonic explosions thundered throughout the heavens as debris decelerated below the speed of sound, and a myriad of tiny white vapor trails stretched in all directions. The rain of wreckage would last for hours, as charred flotsam ranging in size from inches to meters in length pelted the oceans and continents from above. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a final blow, the burning, melted remains of the largest piece of Spacedock impacted the ground at the southern tip of the Great Rift Valley in East Africa, carving a trench several kilometers long, and terminating in a gaping, smoldering crater about a hundred meters in diameter. As the slag cooled in the simmering cauldron, the realization that two hundred thousand people were now dead still had not resonated with the inhabitants of Earth, as they were still confused while struggling to interpret what was happening around them. One by one, people stepped outside their homes and workplaces to helplessly watch the countless pieces of flaming wreckage fall from the sky with their own eyes, imprinting in their minds the shocking reality that the once indestructible icon of human accomplishment had crumbled apart over their heads. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deck 11, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took several minutes for John, Leon, and Shannon to digest the ghastly news coming in over the comm channels. They each were both angry and stupefied at the carnage and audacity of the cowardly attacks, searching for a way to grasp the magnitude of the unfolding disaster. With Spacedock gone, and four orbiting starships destroyed - one of them flown intentionally into the center of Paris and detonated - they had no idea what to expect next. Just as they grappled with this new reality, Shannon informed them that Republic was changing course back towards Earth, apparently due to the nefarious instructions from the individuals sequestered in the deuterium tank bridge. Although the unexplained degradation of the antimatter containment aboard Republic had halted, the magnetic field still had not regenerated itself, suggesting that whatever their uninvited guests had in store for Republic, it did not include saving the ship from disaster. The next mission for the trio of officers was clear: Regain control of Republic by any means necessary. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Like the rest of the vessel, the hallway adjacent to Holodeck Six was devoid of people when Shannon whispered into existence just outside the door. While her program was uniquely encapsulated from the rest of Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It was Klaus," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I should have guessed," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think so," she replied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So we're dealing with an unknown variable," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | John clenched his jaw in anger. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You have a plan?" Leon asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | John looked to Leon in what he perceived to be an accusatory manner at first, but then the doctor then realized his friend was looking intently at his combadge. Without another word, John snatched the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deuterium-tank " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Compared to a standard auxiliary control room, the deuterium-tank bridge was nothing special at first glance. In fact, it's location within the ship was what made it unique, as the tank's magnetic field blocked transporter locks, as well as active sensor scans. The tank was also positioned in an area of the ship where indiscriminate phasor fire was ill-advised due to the close proximity of other deuterium-filled tanks. Even more insidious was what occurred when the deuterium-tank bridge was activated, as the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Back then, the Saratoga was lost with all hands during an ambush in an asteroid field the Cardassian border. Years after the war, the heavily damaged vessel was found drifting along the border before being brought back to a construction depot for a complete re-build. While normal procedure would have been to keep the name ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And so it did. While the deuterium-tank bridge played no small role in resolving the Cestus Three incident of the previous year, it was decided to decommission the room for use again only when Virtus needed it. That need had never materialized, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, sovereign" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You all have done well," the Romulan leader looked around at his disciples with satisfaction. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the New Dawn!" the other aliens roared in response, their voices seething with inspiration and vindictiveness. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For the next few minutes, the room was silent, sans the beeping and chirping of the machinery. On the main viewer, the west coast of North America came into view, and as Republic surfed the outer fringes of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without warning, the floor beneath them jolted violently. It wasn't an air pocket that hit them, nor was it the resonating shutter felt during combat, where the acceleration compensators would adjust the gravity to assist in hull integrity. Instead, it was more a jarring action that threw the standing aliens to the deck, and knocked the Dopterian in the Ops chair out of his seat. Slowly, the gravity in the room began to lessen, and while the main screen turned to static, the monitors on the control stations turned red and blinking with obvious signs of major malfunction. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What happened?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't know, sovereign!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean 'not responding'??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sovereign!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside on the deuterium tank catwalks, John and Leon were wearing respirator masks and standing across from each other on either side of the chasm where deuterium tank number three had once been situated. Air was whipping past them as the compartment forcefully decompressed while they manned a pair of twin control stations that operated the latching mechanisms for the deuterium tank structural interlocks. As for the tank itself, the construct was lifting up and out of its space inside the ship's hull through two missing bulkhead plates on the ceiling. As it rose, every link that the tank had with the Republic was severed, breaking apart in a shower of sparks. Without a moment to lose, John lead his way over to Leon using handholds mechanically carved along the sidewall of the catwalks, and used a hand-over-hand method to reach the doctor. Hurriedly, they both made their way to a nearby containment airlock built into the engineering deck as the gargantuan deuterium fuel cell floated out of it's cradle in the secondary hull, and out into space beyond. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside their safety compartment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Vic knew long ago about the probability that someone could use the deuterium-bridge against us," explained John as the two of them caught their breath. "When he had Pakita seal it off after the Cestus Three incident, he engineered an ejection system for the tank for exactly this kind of scenario." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Virtus probability principle," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | John and Leon's victory was short-lived. No sooner did the detached deuterium tank disintegrate in Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell was that?" Leon exclaimed while staring out the small airlock viewport. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't know," John added turning to the wall-mounted intercom. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is it?" John replied, realizing that Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Our friends put a deadman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Like what?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor and executive officer looked at one another with expressions of impending disaster. "How long do we have?" John asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Damn it!" John slammed his fist against the bulkhead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "My guess," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | John looked at Leon with a deadpan expression before closing the channel. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The course that Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Run another internal scan of the ship," John Carter hurriedly ordered from the tactical arch. "I want to make absolutely sure no one else is hiding on board, especially Klaus." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon could understand why John was adamant, but there was nothing left for him to scan with the ship's sensors, especially not in the time they have left. "I checked everything," | ||
+ | |||
+ | A warbling from the engineering console where Shannon was seated beckoned the attention of both John and Leon. "In about eight minutes, it won't matter who's left aboard," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The sigh of exasperation from the executive officer was unmistakable. Much like Lieutenant Butenhoff earlier, John was now senior officer aboard the Republic, and had a sober decision to make. With only eight minutes to a loss of antimatter containment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a risk John Carter wasn't willing to take. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are you blind, doc?" John shouted harshly at Leon. "Take a good look at your sensors! Do you see any starship or capital vessel anywhere in the Earth system at the moment? No! Do you expect one anytime in the next ten minutes? No! That means we'd basically be letting a ticking time bomb fly away from Earth with no one at the controls! And what would we do if someone just *happens* to be waiting for us to leave the ship? I'll tell you: There would be no one - absolutely NO ONE - to stop them from doing something else with Republic before she explodes! I'm not willing to take that chance! Not after everything that's happened!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then I'll stay," Shannon interrupted him with sternness. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Both John and Leon were taken aback. Not by what Shannon said, per se, but because it had not occurred to them until now that the destruction of Republic also meant the death of Shannon Harris. Obviously, the holographic doctor knew this already, and had already come to terms with it, but for the XO and the doctor, it hit them like a ton of bricks. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you are," Leon piped in to reinforce John's words. "Then you might as well stop right there, because as far as we're concerned, you're just as a much a human being as either one of us." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Their devotion to her equality as a fellow sentient touched Shannon on a level that she hadn't felt before. She loved John, and while she had a self-preservation instinct to keep herself from harm, she also wanted to keep John from harm too, and it trumped her own compulsion to protect herself. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is what I want," she explained. "If Republic is to perish out here in space, and there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon and John locked stares of unspoken communion. They each knew that this would likely be their last moments together, and there was very little left to be said. Shannon was in acceptance of her fate, and John knew there wasn't anything he could do to change her mind. What is, is what must be. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Long story, Hawk," John replied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Now that yer reportin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Leon and I are here aboard Republic. I'm not sure where Klaus is, but Shannon uncovered evidence that he was behind the sabotage of the ship. Send out an alert for him through Starfleet Security." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You mind fillin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I will, but not now. We're out of time." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Did you two get th' antimatter containment under control?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the channel closed, Leon looked back and forth between Shannon and John. While he knew the latter hated long goodbyes, Leon also shared a bond with the holographic doctor, though on a more platonic level than John. He had a lot he wanted to say to her, but knew that time was critical. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While they talked, John focused his attention on the engineering subsystems panel, where he accessed the ship's holographic projector system. After typing a few commands into the controls, the words "EMH PROGRAM TRANSFER COMMENCING" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Ever since Republic was launched," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I will." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on, Leon" John beckoned after a moment. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Leon stepped back to join John, they both looked at her with remorse and admiration as John pressed the communications button. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As she watched the two fade away in the matter stream, Shannon raised a hand in parting gesture. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, unregistered ore freighter, Apollo asteroid 1566 Icarus** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Originally, Shavis had targeted only Earth Spacedock and the Moon, thinking that atmospheric re-entry would interfere with his attacks, since the antimatter-laided freighters could have been shot down during the required minutes-long re-entry sequence for Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | That didn't happen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fuming, Shavis watched as Republic shifted her orbit after only a minute within Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While it wasn't Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your excellency!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then tell me how the team on Republic failed!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I... I can' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then I will let Faro consume your soul in the afterlife!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning his enraged eyes toward the alien, the formidable monarch sneered before responding in a vengeful voice. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You want to be next, Glyneer?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No, your Excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Squinting his eyes at the screen, Shavis slowly let go his grip of the communications officer, who quietly went scrambling back to her station. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, somewhere between the orbits of Earth and Venus** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Starship Republic had not been this empty of life since the resurrection from her previous existence as the derelict Saratoga over five years prior. A large portion of her crew had already removed many of their belongings, most during the mass exodus at Deep Space Nine several weeks ago, and the rest during the extended shore leave at McKinley Station. Listless corridors stretched out throughout the ship, seemingly frozen in time without a soul walking its lengthy distances. Deck by deck, unoccupied staterooms and crew quarters lay dormant, laboratories sat idle, and conference rooms were dark next to quiescent recreation facilities. Even the arboretum had been put to rest, with most annuals removed and recycled, and perennials and trees put into stasis at McKinley for eventual replanting. Throughout her short career after launching at Utopia Planetia a year and a half ago, the personnel who walked her halls were what gave Republic her life energy, and what validated her existence. Now, with nothing left but automated machinery and inanimate superstructure, | ||
+ | |||
+ | All, that is, except for one. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alone on the bridge, Shannon Harris sat in the command chair weeping uncontrollably, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I love you, John..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As she continued to weep, the engineering subsystems panel at the rear of the bridge was blinking a message. "EMH PROGRAM TRANSFER COMPLETE" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Spying the scarlet-haired doctor standing up in the command pit, the captain pulled open the flap on his tunic to put away his glasses as he walked down the portside ramp. As he approached the dumbfounded doctor, the elder man's eyes squinted when he offered a fatherly smile, tenderly grasping her shoulders. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John thought that you could use some company." | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was all Shannon could do to embrace the holographic Kirk, her weeping transforming from profound sadness to heartfelt gratitude. While she wanted desperately to say a passionate goodbye to John Carter when he left, and use every emotion that burst forth from her own heart, she knew that that wasn't the commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk let her release her sadness into his shoulder, holding her tightly as she wept. Gently stroking her scarlet hair, he soothed her nerves for as long as it took for Shannon to undergo a much-needed catharsis. For as little as the captain knew about her, it was clear that she was a strong-willed woman who cared deeply for John, and to see her in this state told him that she was at the end of her rope. What she needed now was comfort, and as her sobbing ebbed, it became clear that it was working. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you!" she released him, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you so much for being here!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think John would have been able to forgive himself if he didn't do *something* for you," the captain explained. "Of course, he was a little vague on the details, but it's my understanding that Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "...My god!" exclaimed Kirk. "Who in heaven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon shook her head again. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This makes no sense..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking around the room, the holographic Jim Kirk tried to find a communications panel so he could see the damage first hand. Catching sight of the Ops console, the captain from yesteryear walked over to the panel, and pulled out his spectacles from his tunic. As he placed the corrective lenses over his eyes, he tried to make sense of the system before him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How does this damned twenty-fourth century contraption work?" he muttered, while trying to find the controls for the forward screen. "I want to see a tactical view of Earth." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If we're going to die together," | ||
+ | |||
+ | She was about to protest, mainly because Shannon did not want to have to relive the events of the past hour. On the other hand, forcing Jim Kirk to face his fate without knowing the reasons behind it seemed terribly unfair. Pursing her lips, the holographic doctor stepped up to the Ops station and dialed the appropriate keystrokes to give the captain what he wanted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The star-scape on the main viewer switched to a computer graphic via an electronic warble. A plethora of information came forth on the screen, all surrounding a digital rendering of Earth, showing it's day side and night side. A fuzzy haze around the planet revealed themselves to be debris, small shuttles, and travel pods orbiting the planet, and a few larger ones were noted to be drydocks and repair depots. Blinking red were four offset information boxes with lined arrows pointing to specific locations in Earth orbit. The first three indicated the last known location of the USS Honshu, the USS Gettysburg, and the USS Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Kirk stood aghast, with his mouth hanging open. He had seen nearly every catastrophe that could befall a planet, but watching his homeworld fall apart before his eyes was beyond comprehension. Now he knew what Shannon meant by the universe going mad, as he had not seen Earth in this state of turmoil since the Whalesong crisis of 2286. At least in that event, Spacedock was able to maintain orbit. Whoever dealt this damage to Earth had a powerful reach, as well as a twisted mind. | ||
+ | |||
+ | While Kirk was fixated on the ground track of Spacedock re-entering the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Oh no!" Shannon exclaimed with rising tension in her voice. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The attackers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The realization of what the doctor was telling him slowly dawned on the captain. He took two steps towards the screen with folded arms, and a hand to his chin in thought. He spun around and began pacing the same spot over and over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What about the batteries?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The warp matrix has been offline for hours," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Life support, mostly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Unregistered ore freighter, Earth airspace** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took Shavis and his freighter crew only minutes to secure the cask of antimatter fuel from Spacedock, ejected shortly before it re-entered Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sign of pursuit, Your Excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With anticipating eyes fixated on the distant North American coastline on the the screen, Shavis gripped his chair so tightly that his fingers dug into the upholstery. His objective was set, and he was savoring his last moment alive with visions of a decimated Starfleet Headquarters in the center of a burning, flattened city. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Earth Emergency Command Center, San Francisco, North America, Earth** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The cavernous room that composed the Starfleet facility for planetary emergency operations was frantic with activity, with hundreds of manned control stations situated in front of a single three-story-high digital display surrounded by two dozen smaller ones, each one the size of a small conference table. Emergency information of every sort were displayed on the smaller monitors, along with broadcasts of burning space modules and desperate, static-laced communications coming in from smaller communities at Luna Colony. On the main monitor, a digital rendering of a rotating Earth was displayed, and a pulsating crimson icon was situated over Paris, with a smaller one over central Mozambique. Every now and again a klaxon would sound, and the words "RED ALERT" would overlay the spinning globe, followed by a computer voice announcing as such over the loudspeaker. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim Roth, after hearing about Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim Roth maintained a stern, tense expression on the balcony, keeping her arms crossed, and waiting for the worst to happen. The appearance of the freighter on the tracking grid happened so quickly that no serious evacuation of the city could be organized in time. Except for a few hospitals and schools, as well as the top brass at the main Starfleet Headquarters building, the rest of the city were forced to stay and await their fate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the first time Kim had been around a group of admirals that were dead silent. They did not speak a word amongst themselves, for they were all too focused on the activity below. A few of them still held out hope that the freighter would somehow miss the city, but as its trajectory on the overhead map showed clearly, the course was precise, and likely to be deadly accurate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Immediately following the torturously suspenseful announcement, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Galaxy-class bridge gently shuddered as the vessel buffeted against turbulent air, the result of Republic performing a controlled re-entry within the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think it's getting colder," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are you sure we can't just power up at least one phaser bank?" asked the holographic captain sitting next to her at the ops station. "It might make this easier." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The scarlet-haired turned to him with a smile. "Even if we could, who would pull the trigger? Last time I checked, no hologram in the Federation has the programming to willfully kill another sentient being." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good point," | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the viewer in front, the distant city of San Francisco whipped by underneath the ship as it travelled westward, easily denoted by the blue waters of San Francisco Bay and the rust-colored trestles of the Golden Gate Bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It was nice to see it one last time with my own eyes," commented the elderly Starfleet captain with a wistful expression. While he had a spectacular view of the city from his holographic apartment on the holodeck, his self-aware program provided the burden of knowing that it was fake. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The announcement seemed to strike a nerve in Shannon, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and her eyes widened with a stiff jaw while focusing tightly on the screen ahead. She was fighting the urge to panic in the face of her own termination, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | At fifty kilometers of altitude, and two hundred kilometers from the shore, Republic and the ore freighter collided, releasing the combined antimatter of both vessels. It was estimated that the yield of the explosion was between forty and fifty megatons of TNT, or almost the size of the November 1961 nuclear explosion of Tsar Bomba, a hydrogen bomb which was the most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated on the planet. The fireball was over 7 kilometers in diameter, but did not touch the ground. Nevertheless, | ||
+ | |||
+ | In orbit at McKinley Station, the Republic crew watched on the viewscreens the miracle of their ship rushing to the rescue one last time, although most everyone was perplexed and confused over what had occurred aboard the uninhabited starship to cause it to perform a deed of self-sacrifice. Everyone, that is, except for John Carter. For his part, the executive officer looked mournfully towards the ground with a hollow feeling in his gut. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Headquarters, | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the initial attacks stopped, several hours went by where confusion reigned and rampant paranoia suggested that another attack could occur at anytime. However, as the afternoon progressed, and rescue starships from other star systems began to trickle in one after another, it became clear that the threat was now over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As for the handful of Republic crew, they did the best they could to assist relief operations from McKinley station, but there wasn't much they could do without their starship. Medical facilities were prepared to receive casualties en masse, but was treating only a handful of people because (as would later be determined) the attacks on the Earth system were designed for just one thing: to kill. Not maim, not injure, but to murder; to wipe out as many humans as possible. With this deathly reality, Kim Roth ordered Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | | {{ : | ||
+ | |||
+ | The main lobby of Rear Admiral Krockover' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Although the devastation throughout the star system was mind-boggling, | ||
+ | |||
+ | One after another, images and subspace video downlinks were established from other star systems, and each drew gawks and gasps from the gathered officers. Fuzzy, static-laced digital telecasts were depicting horrific scenes from several nearby colony worlds. New France... Aldebaran... Idara... Norpin... Vega... Proxima Colony. Each of these human colony planets were recipients of a fast and furious extraterrestrial attack. Gaping, smoldering craters replaced cities. Fires raged across rocky landscapes that were once forest or farmland. Buildings and municipalities were reduced to burning embers in the background of burnt, carbonized bodies still ablaze in flames. Humans... entire families... were caught outside during the antimatter incineration of their homes. The grisly shock and gut-wrenching horror were burned into their faces before they died, completely oblivious as to who their killers were. Worst of all, a live feed from Benecia Colony showed an orbital survey vessel scanning the surface, investigating what appeared to be an enormous, planet-wide biogenic weapon release: Dead bodies of men, women, and children littered thoroughfares and community gathering areas, each showing signs of a tortured, heinous death by toxic asphyxiation. The sensor results were blinking in the lower corner reading " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Soon, these images would be broadcast across the rest of the planet Earth, where people would learn of the extent of the damage far beyond their own star system. With smaller, scattered debris from Spacedock still showering down from above, dusk fell in the cloudy sky over San Francisco, and a cold rain settled in to mark the end of the most horrendous day in Federation history. Come the dawn, the crestfallen survivors would begin the gruesome task of counting the dead. | ||