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Sins of the Fathers (Story)

knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
edited October 2013 in Ten Forward
((thanks to sander233 for letting me use his folks))



The night is black
Without a moon
The air is thick and still
The vigilantes gather on
The lonely torch lit hill

Features distorted in the flickering light
The faces are twisted and grotesque
Silent and stern in the sweltering night
The mob moves like demons possessed
Quiet in conscience, calm in their right
Confident their ways are best

The righteous rise
With burning eyes
Of hatred and ill-will
Madmen fed on fear and lies
To beat and burn and kill

They say there are strangers who threaten us
In our immigrants and infidels
They say there is strangeness too dangerous
In our theaters and bookstore shelves
That those who know what's best for us
Must rise and save us from ourselves

Quick to judge
Quick to anger
Slow to understand
Ignorance and prejudice
And fear walk hand in hand...
RUSH, Witch Hunt


(seven months before the Moab incident)

Klingon registered transport Sar'tang, three weeks out of Denali

The crew was nervous. This would have bothered Captain (to use the term loosely) K'tran, had he been sober enough to care. He wasn't however, his lack of moderation having led to his departure from the KDF several years prior, an action he blamed on everyone but himself. He had spiraled down, until landing as the master of a freighter of dubious legality, though oddly enough, for once their cargo was legitimate. They were carrying holds full of frozen meat, from the great prey beasts of Denali. While live food would be better, the mining colony on Targan IV was both not picky, and while not quite desperate for food, it was getting close. The miners couldn't raise food there, and they were on the edge of Imperial space, so re supply was slow at best. Technically, Denali was a Federation world - or at least had applied for membership , which had been delayed or postponed. But they were also the closest inhabited planet to the Targan system, and the trade in livestock to the empire had been their biggest export for the last fifty years. A little thing like a cold war turning hotter wasn't going to stop them from making sure their neighbors didn't go hungry - or that they didn't have latinum coming in.

Until recently. Ship after ship had disappeared in transit, with no trace. The route to Denali was a long one, two months out from the empire, the system the last inhabitable star system between the galaxy and Andromeda. There were nebulas along the route, dark ones where the stars failed to ignite, perfect hiding places for raiders perhaps.

It had been harder for the Denali colony to find people willing to make the trek out there - fortunately, K'tarn may be a drunk, but he was still a Klingon. The Sar'tang had several less than legal disruptor turrets on board, and both he and some of the crew were combat veterans. They hoped to make a killing on this run, both monetary, and literally.

Still... it looked like they would make it through. They were passing the D'tran nebula, another hour o so and they would be clear, with nothing between them and imperial space.

"I'm picking up something... No, now I'm not..."

"What?" K'tarn looked up from his bloodwine. "What do you mean Coward?"

The Ferasan (so dishonorably and justifiably named after fleeing from a battle; the only reason he wasn't killed for his cowardice is they hadn't caught him yet) pointed at the screen "I had a contact for a moment I thought, but then it vanished - but not like a cloak. One moment it was there, the next, not."

K'tarn peered at the screen. It could be a sensor ghost; Kahless only knows how many times the sensors on the old tub had malfunctioned. "It's probably nothing," he said, and besides, his bloodwine was getting cold.

Coward wasn't so sure, and the nervous feline continued to scan. "Wait, there it is again- no, it's gone again..."

Bah. It was nothing. Until it wasn't, the ship lurching from the interaction of the warp field with another, an automated scratchy voice shrieking

"Proximity warning!"

"What? Arm disruptors!"

"We're dropping out of warp!"

"Shields offline, we're being boarded!"

He tried to think, but the alcoholic fog was making it hard to concentrate as gas filled the bridge. He stood, pulling his disruptor as a six armed, three headed thing, or was it only a humanoid, hard to tell, came through the hatchway. His shot went wild... the invader's did not, the phaser sending him screaming to oblivion.

Ten minutes later, there was no trace that the Sar'tang ever existed...





Earth, Paris, France. Federation Office of Colonial Development.

Vice Admiral Jesus LaRoca was more than a bit curious at his summons here. Normally he dealt with external diplomacy with Starfleet Security, patching things over with Klingons (though over the last year or so that had gone to hell, fortunately there were the Risa talks.) This office however dealt only with colonies from Earth, both official and unofficial ones. The young secretary hardly flirted with him as he was ushered in, of course the sheer volume of work piled on her desk was the likely culprit. Colonial Affairs was one of the less well funded areas of the Federation.

And when they did send people out, they weren't the most popular representatives from the Federation. Many colonists had another name for them, the office of Colonial Disappointment, Disapproval, and Disarmament. Privately Jesu agreed with them, they had bungled the Moab colonies badly, losing them to the Klingons was a major propaganda blow for the Empire. Now there were half a dozen systems looking at all the aid being sent to the Romulans, then looking at what they needed but didn't get, and asking difficult questions.

Of course, part of the reason was in this office. Admiral Sandra Fittsimons wasn't someone that he privately felt belonged in Starfleet, but she did look better than the last time he was forced to interact with her. She'd dropped at least fifty kilos or more since he bumped into her on Starbase 39 the year before. She could stand to lose more, but wasn't in immediate danger of the Collins rule anymore. She was working in intelligence, what she was doing here was a mystery.

As for the other person in the room, he didn't know much about him. Appointed to fill the position by the recently sacked Minister for Colonial Development, Marcus Viella looked like he was a man thrown into a job that was over his head. His greying hair was frazzled, and he had an expression of a man continually late for an appointment. "Ah Admiral LaRoca, thank you for coming by," he said, waving Jesu to one of the few chairs not covered in PADDs and papers.

"No problemo, I don't get to see Paris much," he said amicably as he sat down. "So what can I do for you, Minister?"

"We've had a run of bad luck lately. We've lost the Moab settlements, with their defection to the Klingons. And another colony at Terus V has withdrawn their application for membership in the Federation - they said they preferred to go it alone... there's half a dozen or more that are leaning towards following them, I'm afraid. "

Jesu wasn't surprised. The Federations policy of disarming civilians , not allowing them to defend themselves, then when they were attacked, waiting weeks to send help, wasn't exactly making them popular. "I know of Moab. Haven't heard of the Terus V situation though. Some of it is our own fault."

"I know, I know. But it is against the principles of the Administration to let civilians carry military-grade weaponry. But that's beside the point. There's another world that could follow Moab to the Klinks."

"What do you know about Denali?" Admiral Fittsimons said, turning on a privacy screen and pulling up an image on a monitor.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment while he scanned his encyclopedic memory. "Barely class M, colonized by a sleeper ship from the early Twenty-First Century that ended up taking a trip through a wormhole, and managed to hit the last inhabitable system before the Andromeda Galaxy." Frowning, he remembered another fact about them. "Aren't they Augments?"

"Indeed. The technology was common at the time that they left Earth, and according to what they've told us, they had to adapt themselves to merely survive on the planet. Barely class M is an understatement. It's closer to class P, really. At higher altitudes, at night carbon dioxide freezes out of the atmosphere, and the dominant life forms are ice age type mega fauna."

"Sounds like a real garden spot."

"Frozen hell is more like it," Fittsimons muttered. "I think you know this gentleman" she said as another image came up on the screen.

He swore under his breath "I wouldn't call him a 'gentleman,'" he said, starting at the image of Amar Singh. "'Monster' is more like it."

"We've been backtracking his movements since you captured him. He paid a visit to Denali, despite it being a ridiculously long way to go. On the old freighter he got passage on, it took six months just to get there." She brought up an image of an antique Pakled freighter. "We know he went there, and met with the 'Greatmother'."

"With the what?"

"We don't know 'what', exactly, Admiral," Viella jumped in. "From the way Denali colonists describe her, she's literally the mother of them all. We're thinking religious implications perhaps. Nor do we know what Singh talked to her about. We do know she has not ever met with a Federation representative, or Klingon, for that matter."

"The Empire has a presence there?"

The Minister nodded. "The first ship that found the colony was the bird-of-prey IKS Hu'kan, which was doing long range probing about ninety years ago, when they picked up emissions from the colony. They landed, and unfortunately, their ship was eaten."

LaRoca raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, did you say, eaten?"

Another image came up, of a semi-mustelid looking creature with six legs... and several hundred meters long. "They call them 'ice weasels'. They live under the sea ice and come up eating things that wander onto it - or land on it."

Jesu just shook his head. "Any survivors?"

"About half the crew; they were taken in by the colonists, and helped them build a subspace relay that eventually got the attention of another ship about twenty years ago, the USS Aventine."

"That was Captain Dax's ship, wasn't it?"

"It was," Fittsimons said, "which is probably why no red flags were raised when the colonists augmentations were discovered, being intelligence believes she had a relationship with a known Augment, Dr. Julian Bashir, which likely clouded her judgment."

Viella cleared his throat. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but isn't what they did allowable under Section 31 of the Federation Charter?"

Both of the Admirals glanced at the minister. "Technically, yes," Jesu admitted ,"but trying to direct human evolution without understanding human

nature is asking for trouble... I can see why they did it, but I don't approve of it."

"We're not asking you to like it, Admiral," Fittsimmons stated, "we just need you to go there, get a first-hand look. It's been seventeen years that their application has been tabled, they are starting to get antsy over it, and the Klinks are nosing around..."

While he wanted to protest at Fitsimmons use of the slang term for Klingons - his first officer was half-Klingon after all - arguing with her was generally an exercise in futility. "Just what type of relationship does the Klingon Empire have with the colony?" He emphasized the proper descriptor of the rival government, and as he somewhat passive-aggressively straightened the sash he wore over his dress uniform - a Klingon warrior's sash, bearing the emblem of the House of Martok.

"There have been Klingons on the planet for ninety years now," Fitsimmons told him, tactfully ceasing to use the slur, "the survivors off the Hu'kan and their offspring. The Empire is the colony's biggest trading partner, due in part to their location. It's a two month journey by freighter from the closest inhabited world, a Klingon mining colony, while under maximum warp, six months from Earth. Of course, these days, transwarp and slipstream drive cut the journey down considerably. Still, they are on better-than-cordial terms with the Klingons."

"The KDF has been... generous," Minister Viella explained. "Giving the Denali equipment, mining gear, surplus ships for 'training purposes' for their small merchant fleet, though the latest ship they delivered was a D-7 class. Yes, it was over a century old, from their mothball fleet, but still..."

This all sounded sadly familiar. "And what did WE give them in support?" LaRoca wondered.

The Minister looked uncomfortable. "Uh, well, being they're not 'officially' members of the Federation, it was decided that we could not send aid unless weaponry in civilian hands was surrendered."

"Which I actually do not agree with." Fittsimons stated, to LaRoca's surprise. "It's a dangerous world, and they regularly loose people to wildlife. Hard to argue that people can't have weapons when predators the size of shuttlecraft prowl outside the cities. It would be best if they could be persuaded to resettle somewhere else, inside the borders..."

Jesu just shook his head. He'd dealt with enough stubborn colonial types over the years. "Which of course they'd never agree too, so it's off the table."

"Yes. They don't know what's best for themselves," Viella announced, "and the Federation can't force them as yet to do what's best."

Jesu was growing to dislike the Minister more by the moment. "So, what is it you want me to do??

Fittsimons stood, walking over to the window "The Denali colony can NOT be allowed to join the Empire. Such an act would have grave repercussions to the safety of the Federation. Do whatever you think you have to. They are soon to have their Bicentennial Celebration, for their arrival on their little ball of ice. There will be discussion, and a vote on the colony's future. They MUST vote to continue applying for Federation membership."

"But will they get it if that's what they decide?"

The Minister shrugged as he stood "That's up to the Federation council."

"One final question," LaRoca said as he rose as well. "Why me?"

"I spoke to Jiro personally, and he gave you his highest recommendation," Viella announced. "And of course, your record in dealing with the Cardassians and the Romulans speaks for itself."

"Plus, your ship was in important factor in our considerations," Fitsimmons declared. "The Tiburon is ideally suited for an extended, unsupported mission into territory where help is not a distress call away."

"I guess papa was right - there really are dangers to being too good at my job," LaRoca muttered. "But on the other hand, Ming has been looking for a chance to see how long he can maintain a slipstream bubble... You'll have my report in a couple of months."

Fitsimmons ponderously came to her feet and extended her hand. "Good luck Admiral"


USS Nighthawk, Mutara sector

Captain Melissa 'Missy' Travis was starting to get antsy. She had put in her leave request, the first one in over ten years of service, BUPERS had been nagging her for a long time that she needed leave. So here she was, finally applying, for something important to her-and the deadline for catching transport home was coming up fast, with no reply. She had finally attempted to make an end run around them, calling in a favor from Admiral Quinn's office-only to be told to 'stand by, they'd get back to her.' Feh.

She'd taken her frustration out on the Borg, they were good for things like that. While she'd happily liberate any drones they could, when they couldn't be saved, (or when they were trying to assimilate her ship and crew) destroying them did tend to be cathartic. They had just finished taking down a handful of cubes that were attacking a planet when she got a priority message from Admiral Quinns office.

"never good timing" she muttered. Her XO just grinned "Go ahead and take it Captain, we're just doing mop up now with the rest of the fleet."

"Thanks Permor, you've got the Con" she said as she headed into the ready room. Priority messages from the CNOs office should be answered promptly after all.

"Captain Travis here" she said as she sat down, surprised to see not an Aide, but Admiral Quinn himself. "good morning Sir"

"Captain, I understand you've requested a few months off."

"Aye Sir, that?s mainly because of the travel time-it's a long way to Denali and back."

"it's the time that was the problem, but I think you'll find this acceptable. Your request for leave is denied, due to operational requirements-you are to take the Nighthawk to Denali instead."

She blinked, that was not what she expected in the slightest. "But Sir, the 'hawk is tied up on the Omega front-"

"It's been cleared, this is a matter of Federation security. You are aware that the Empire has been making inroads with your home world?"

She wasn't just aware of it, hell half of the last class from the university joined the KDF. The Klingons had a recruiting stations in several cities. "yes sir, but they've been trading with us for years, and something like ten percent of the population is Klingon, though most were born there, like my chief engineer."

"Starfleet Intelligence has picked up chatter that they are planning a major push for this event, to try to turn the colony over to the Empire. We both know that there are many in the fleet, who would find this alarming..."

she nodded, though here recently she felt that the Empire might be a better fit for her homeworld-if not for the fact that would make them a big fat target. "I agree sir, but being strung along like we have for so many years, people are starting to get tired. Plus the recent events in the news..."

"Indeed, losing those worlds was a major blunder. You're cleared to do whatever you think is necessary to keep this from blowing up in our faces." he said "Also the Consular Operations Task Force is sending Admiral LaRoca to Denali as well, co-ordinate with him when you arrive."


She had never met the Admiral, but knew of his rep "will do Sir." she said.

"Intelligence says the Klingons are ending a Vo'Quv carrier, with the Claws of the Emperor aboard as well, to try to make an impression."

That Impressed her-the display team of Ferasean fighter pilots was famous for their skills both in space and in atmosphere. They often performed for the Chancellor and across the Empire-they were considered some of the best pilots in the galaxy. "they are taking this serious." she shrugged "We'll do everything we can Admiral."

"I know you will. Good luck, Quinn out."

She headed back to the bridge " Ok,New orders, stop off at Starbase 231 to refuel, then set course for Denali."

The Nighthawk turned , breaking formation, then with a streak, accelerated to warp.
"It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

"he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



Post edited by knightraider6 on

Comments

  • marcusdkanemarcusdkane Member Posts: 7,439 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Very nice, I'll look forward to seeing how this pans out :cool:
  • cmdrscarletcmdrscarlet Member Posts: 5,137 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    *gasp* One of my favorite Rush songs evah! It was an appropriate start to a well-written piece :)
  • takeshi6takeshi6 Member Posts: 752 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Very fun, I look forward to seeing more. :)

    *Subscribes to Thread*
    76561198160276582.png
  • milandaremilandare Member Posts: 194 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Awesome, another branch in the tales surrounding Vice Admiral Roca!

    Very interesting so far. It seems there will be some major challenges to loyalties in this one. It has a DS9 feel. I am looking forward to reading more.
  • sander233sander233 Member Posts: 3,992 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    ((thanks to sander233 for letting me use his folks))

    My pleasure. You write for Jesu very well. :)
    16d89073-5444-45ad-9053-45434ac9498f.png~original

    ...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
    - Anne Bredon
  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    USS Tiburon, one week out from Denali

    Space normally wasn't this empty. Oh sure, there were sections where there wasn't much to look at in the galaxy, but this... At least the view aft was pretty, where it wasn't blocked by dark dust clouds. The stellar cartography department was the only ones who really had any work to do; from this angle they could get good views of the galaxy. The Barrier oddly wasn't a problem here; it was almost as if it bulged out from the galaxy encompassing the system a week still ahead of them even on slipstream drive. This bolstered some who said it wasn't a natural phenomenon; that it was put up by Q or someone like them. This led to the argument was it protecting the galaxy from someone, or someone from the inhabitants?

    Neither idea thrilled Jesu to be honest. The trip had been uneventful so far, if far faster than most ships. They had been going three weeks straight before having to shut down the slipstream for adjustments. most of the crew had been taking care of deferred maintenance, doing self-paced study courses, or like him, catching up on overdue paperwork and research into just what they were heading into. There had been some unhappiness by some of the crew towards their new orders, it wasn't exactly an attractive place they were headed to and some like Lt. Stikvaa at the helm...well he had his own reason not to like augments in any shape or form. Fortunately the climate wasn't exactly suited for a Gorn, so the most he'd interact with the colony would be with their orbital traffic controllers. As for the rest, well they were well stocked on cold weather gear, but the festival would be held on the summer solstice of the planet-the average temperature would be just a few degrees below freezing.

    "Looking at the weather reports?" Jesu looked up as his staff began to file in to the flag conference room, his brother showing him a toothy smile as he turned his seat around and draped his arms over the back of it. "Hope you didn't pack your swimsuit, don't think you'll need it this trip."

    That caused a chuckle among the officers as they sat down "Didn't think to bring my snowboard either, which is probably just as well. While some of the mountains around the city where we're going look nice, they've got predators the size of runabouts prowling the forest. Which reminds me," he said, starting the meeting "first thing, anyone going planet side will be armed at all times. I know thats a bit different from our usual operations, but I was assured by the Denali ambassador that not only will it not offend them, It's expected of all adults to be armed."

    "I would assume then that any KDF that are visiting would be loaded for bear as well?" Rusty asked, making notes on a PADD.

    "More than likely, so make sure to brief anyone who goes down for any reason about the need to be on our best behavior, Commander. Things are tense enough, no need to have some young ensign get a couple drinks of the local stuff and get in a fight."

    "That may not be a problem," Dr. Maria Espinoza said. "Alcohol isn't consumed much at all there, mostly by Klingon and non-enhanced citizens" she said, using the local terminology. "Alcohol isn't really processed well by Denali, though it seems that chocolate is used in the same manner that we would use alcohol. It has many of the same effects on them, in solid or liquid form, and like alcohol can be toxic in large enough doses."

    "How the heck did that come about?" Ennari Dai asked curiously.

    "Some of the DNA they used to modify themselves came from Terran canids that they had DNA on file for - along with mixing some of the local canid equivalents."

    "Why the hell would they do that to themselves?" Rusty wondered.

    Maria shrugged. "From what we know, when they awoke from cold sleep after their landing, it was the dead of winter, and it was either adapt themselves or they would die. They chose the latter choice. An interesting note, most of the Denali colonists that are on planet are fur covered, though off world they tend to have it removed, due to the heat." an image came up on the viewer of one of the colonists, though this one looked human enough, except for the huge fox-like ears.

    Marq leaned forward, peering at the image. "She looks familiar."

    "She should," Jesu said "She was one of the first from this colony to go to the Academy. Captain Melissa Travis, currently commanding the USS Nighthawk, which is on its way to join us. They'll arrive a few hours after us but they're coming in from Mutara on a totally different vector."

    "I remember her," Miller spoke up "She was helmsman on the USS South Dakota about eight or nine years back when I was TDY with them for a couple months; seemed to be pretty good at her job."

    "Wasn't there a tac report about the Nighthawk a few weeks back?" Rusty asked, looking through his notes.

    "It was involved in the rescue of the captain of the USS Agamemnon from the Tal'Shiar, and saving the USS Dauntless from the Tal'Shiar they had stirred up in the process."

    "Dauntless... isn't that the ship that warped into atmosphere, then warped back out so low there were mud stains on the hull?"

    Jesu nodded and grinned. "That's the one... amazing bit of luck they got out of that fix. But yes, from what I've seen on her record, both Captain Travis and her ship have a good reputation..."

    Rusty knew what he was saying without him saying it. "But you have reservations."

    Jesu sighed "I don't want to come across as being prejudicial...but I've had many bad experiences with Augments. Hell, we all have. And now we have a full planet of them, sixty three million."

    "If it makes you feel any better, sir, I have treated several Denali colonists in the past. While I can't go into too much detail," Maria said "due to patient confidentially, they're not like Amar Singh's augments. They're not designed to be super warriors - they're designed to survive a hostile world."

    She pointed at a diagram on the screen "The large fox-like ears for example, function like heat exchangers, cooling blood that flows through them when they're indoors, or on say a ship or a non-frozen planet. They have fur, to help survive sub-zero weather. They have a second set of eyelids, to avoid eye damage due to cold, and to also add a filter to prevent snow blindness. Their cardiac-vascular system and lungs are stronger, to handle the thinner atmosphere, and their strength and speed, well that could be more a product of their environment than genetic tweaking. Athletes who live and train at higher altitudes, perform better when exposed to 'normal' conditions for example."

    "True..." he shook his head and sighed. "Maybe I'm just getting old and set in my ways" he said with a chuckle and a glance at his brother. "Regardless though, as much as I may personally not care for what they've done to themselves... the Denali in Starfleet have proven themselves by their records, and I for one, would rather have them in the Federation than the Empire."

    "Wait, there's Klingons already on the planet - are any of them augmented?" Rusty asked.

    Dr. Espinoza shook her head. "Klingons are hardy enough to survive with appropriate gear without augmentation... and the memory of the 22nd-Century Klingon attempts at augmentation were still fairly fresh in the marooned crew of the IKS Hu'kan. According to their ambassador, other than minor repair of genetic damage such as we do ourselves, the Klingon citizens are not and do not want to be augmented."

    Jesu chuckled. "If we can get them to put that in writing maybe that would stop the politicos panicking in Paris over admitting the colony already."


    Paris, France, Earth. Federation Foreign Ministers Office

    It was not good news. Not good news tended to make the minister... upset. The scarred young aide, looking like someone had taken a crowbar to his face a few years before squared his shoulders before knocking on the door to the Ministers secure office. The minister got even more upset if he saw fear, and Johnson had finally learned that lesson. "Enter!"

    He entered the office, unlike many it did not have a sweeping view of the Seine, or la Tour Eiffel, or even windows at all for that matter. In fact it was not on the official floor plans of the Ministry building at all. It was as secure as it could be made thanks to the coffers of the United Federation of Planets. After all, the foreign minister did need privacy when conducting business with other governments.

    The minister was at his desk, conferring with someone who Johnson could not see or identify the voice of, due to the scrambling. Fortunately, he had proven his loyalty to the cause, and was cleared to be here-otherwise not even his sub atomic particles would ever be found.

    "You must be more careful in your selection. Three of the latest were expelled from the Academy for not being able to get along with non-humans." Martin Cave said in a low growl, motioning Johnson forward.

    The voice on the other end sounded concerned, well as concerned as the scrambling would convey "What happened to them? They know the price for failure in this!"

    "Two returned themselves, we've found other positions for them where they can be of use. The third tried to run..." the minister looked up at Johnson with pride "My nephew caught her before she could speak. Flayed her to the skin... then fed her into the replicator - slowly. He then used the raw matter to make a toilet."

    There was a laugh from the other end "A receptacle for filth, how appropriate for a traitor."

    Johnson just nodded at the praise, then took a breath. Even though this was bad news, it was not of his making. It wasn't like he gave the orders for Captain Travis and Admiral LaRoca to head out there. "Sir, there's been a complication at Denali..."
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • philipclaybergphilipclayberg Member Posts: 1,680
    edited September 2013
    It's "Paris" not "Pairs", if you mean the capital of France.

    (slithers back into shadows, where he can lurk and find other typos ... including in his own writing)
  • sander233sander233 Member Posts: 3,992 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Aw, li'l Johnson Cave has grown up and become a psycho killer. How nice for him.
    16d89073-5444-45ad-9053-45434ac9498f.png~original

    ...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
    - Anne Bredon
  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    It's "Paris" not "Pairs", if you mean the capital of France.

    (slithers back into shadows, where he can lurk and find other typos ... including in his own writing)

    (mutters)thanks, fixed that as well as a few of the random ? that I missed.
    sander233 wrote: »
    Aw, li'l Johnson Cave has grown up and become a psycho killer. How nice for him.

    Psycho Killer? Qu'est-ce que c'est :D
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • philipclaybergphilipclayberg Member Posts: 1,680
    edited September 2013
    I've found that doing copy/paste from an offline text file turns all double-quotes and dashes (not hyphens in hyphenated words) to question marks. Which is the part of editing that takes me the longest ... checking all the question marks to make sure what they're supposed to be. For instance (these are just examples, not from anyone's writing on this website): ? excuse me?? would have to be changed to "excuse me?", and ? Romulans ? not their cousins, the Vulcans? would have to be changed to "Romulans -- not their cousins, the Vulcans". A pain, but unavoidable.
  • sander233sander233 Member Posts: 3,992 Arc User
    edited September 2013

    Psycho Killer? Qu'est-ce que c'est :D

    Run, run, run, run
    Run, run, run away...
    16d89073-5444-45ad-9053-45434ac9498f.png~original

    ...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
    - Anne Bredon
  • gulberatgulberat Member Posts: 5,505 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    I've found that doing copy/paste from an offline text file turns all double-quotes and dashes (not hyphens in hyphenated words) to question marks. Which is the part of editing that takes me the longest ... checking all the question marks to make sure what they're supposed to be. For instance (these are just examples, not from anyone's writing on this website): ? excuse me?? would have to be changed to "excuse me?", and ? Romulans ? not their cousins, the Vulcans? would have to be changed to "Romulans -- not their cousins, the Vulcans". A pain, but unavoidable.



    The quick way is to copy it first into Notepad. Then repeat the following steps:

    Copy one of the symbols you want to replace. The ones you need to do are: left and right double quote, left and right singe quote, ellipsis, and m-dash.

    Paste the symbol in the Find box. In Replace, type what you want to be the replacement. For instance, for left double quote, type a double quotation mark into the replace box. For ellipsis, type three periods.

    Then hit Replace All. Repeat this procedure once for all of the offending symbols listed above, and the only hand coding you should be left with is to insert the BBcode for italics. Doing that should significantly cut down your editing time.

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  • takeshi6takeshi6 Member Posts: 752 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    gulberat wrote: »
    The quick way is to copy it first into Notepad. Then repeat the following steps:

    Copy one of the symbols you want to replace. The ones you need to do are: left and right double quote, left and right singe quote, ellipsis, and m-dash.

    Paste the symbol in the Find box. In Replace, type what you want to be the replacement. For instance, for left double quote, type a double quotation mark into the replace box. For ellipsis, type three periods.

    Then hit Replace All. Repeat this procedure once for all of the offending symbols listed above, and the only hand coding you should be left with is to insert the BBcode for italics. Doing that should significantly cut down your editing time.

    A variant of this can be done just about anywhere. The ellipsis can be corrected in the method described, But for Quote Marks and Apostrophes, you can type in which item you want to replace in the Find Box, and then Paste in a Forum-Friendly replacement--works nicely in Google Drive. :D
    76561198160276582.png
  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Sins of the Fathers- Episode 2, Arrival

    Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky
    Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I


    - David Gilmour of Pink Floyd - "Learning to Fly"


    USS Tiburon, Denali System

    "I expected more, well, Ice"

    Admiral Jesu LaRoca just chuckled at the comment from Lt. Stikvaa. Viewed from space, Denali wasn't quite living up to it's reputation as frozen snowball. "It is a bit greener than you'd expect, given the name - but it's still damn cold down there."

    "Kind of like how Greenland, well, isn't green, sir?" the Gorn conn officer asked. After almost a year in Starfleet he still marveled over the geographic diversity of Earth.

    "Exactly," the Tiburon had arrived and was in orbit, it however was almost midnight planetside in the capital city of Vancouver. It was only polite to wait until morning, besides waiting would help them get their biological clocks in sync with local time. And to get a chance to confer with the Nighthawk's captain, which was just pulling into orbit as well, only five kilometers away. About ten kilometers further, the KDF contingent was already there, but they did have a much shorter trip. "Looks like a Vo'Quv carrier," the Admiral remarked. "And it seems to be towing another ship, Orion Marauder it looks like."

    "Correct, sir," Cmdr. Traa'cee spoke up from TacOps. "The Marauder is unpowered, however, and I'm not reading many lifesigns aboard."

    "Beware Orions bearing gifts," Marq Sander grumbled.

    "Looks like the Nighthawk's seen some action recently," Rusty said as he looked over at the Sovereign-class cruiser. "She's got some score markings along the nacelles."

    "Well, they did come straight in from Omega," Jesu reminded his adopted brother. "So it's no surprise they've had some damage. Doesn't look too bad, though. What cycle is the Nighthawk on now?" While Starfleet tried to keep their ships on the same schedules, the logistics of visiting different planets tended to throw that off from time to time.

    Traa'cee checked the Tacnet signal. "They're synced with us, Admiral - Pacific Standard Time."

    Jesu stared at the other Starfleet ship, thinking of her Denali-native Captain. I do need to meet her sometime, he thought. "Hail them, please."

    Traa'cee complied, and the Nighthawk's Captain appeared on-screen. She looked older than the image of her during the briefing, but then that was probably made when she was a cadet. "Captain Travis here, sir," she said.

    "Looks like we both got here a bit late. They want us down there at 0900 local time, might be a good time to go over a few things for an hour or so before then; meantime it might be a good idea to sync up with the local time zone..."

    "Sounds good, sir. Shall I beam over to you at 0800 local, then?"

    "I'll see you then, Captain," Jesu said with a nod as he stood up. "Tib out."

    "Gonna get some rest, Sir?" Marq asked

    "I probably should. Never good to do diplomacy while tired or hungry," he said with a grin, then thought for a moment. "Those Klingons over there... I wonder what they're up to."

    "You want me and Hacksaw to find out?" Rusty asked.

    "Yeah. Check the last fleet movement reports from Kilo-Seven. I want to know where those ships came from, who's driving them, and why they're here. You just don't see a Vo'Quv towing an old Orion battlebarge out to the far edge of the galaxy every day."


    USS Nighthawk

    "So what was that about?"

    Missy just shrugged as she cut the comm. "He probably wants to go over the dog and pony show we'll get hit with tomorrow," she said. It was weird - in a good way - being home again, even if so far all she's seen of it is from orbit. "I'd probably better head in early, then, if he's wanting to sync to local time," she grinned. "Typical diplomat - wants to be well up on his beauty sleep."

    Her XO just chuckled, the Trill checking the PADD in his hand. "I figured you'd be tied up once we got here with meet and greets. Are we going to be authorizing shore leave as well?"

    "I'd say yes, but probably should run it by the Admiral first in the morning. I don't see him saying no, but Admirals always like it when you ask them first for anything."

    Permor just laughed. "And we like it better when they don't ask us anything," he said, finishing the old joke. "I'll take over here, you get some food and rest Captain."

    She nodded, giving him the bridge. Weird calling it a day this hour, but eh, diplomats. Always had to be on their schedule. She started to head into her ready room then changed her mind, taking the lift down instead. "Deck ten," she said as the doors closed, if she was gonna eat, might as well eat where there was a good view.

    The lounge was packed, well it was normal lunch hour. While as captain she could have requested one of the more scenic tables for her own use, She prefered to let her crew have the run of this space more or less. It was their lounge, she was just a visitor on occasion. Fortunately one of the tables by the forward windows had an empty seat, and the ones sitting there wouldn't mind her joining them. While she was on good terms with most of her crew, many of the more junior ones especially were a bit intimidated at times by the four pips on her collar. She picked up her lunch from the line, replicated food still, but then it was a long trip. at least they could stock up on meat while they were here. She headed over to the table by the window, her Klingon Chief Engineer looking up and pulling out a chair for her.
    Missy smiled at B'oDgok. They had known each other since they were children - When she was six and he was eight, she thought he was icky, and he thought she had cooties. When she was thirteen she wanted to marry him, and at sixteen they joined together in the R'uustai before her leaving for San Francisco, and him for the KDF Academy. He was her friend, her brother, and at the moment as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

    "Everything ok?" she asked as she sat down. Normally a Klingon would not admit such things, but Missy was family. "I am...nervous. It has been over a year and a half, her ship arrives tomorrow and I don't know how our meeting will go."

    "It will be fine. K'leela loves you more than anything in the galaxy and pulled who knows how many strings to get a ride out here, even if she is having to ride with the ambassador."

    "But still, with the political troubles of my serving in Starfleet-"

    "Which is only because they made me a captain first instead of you - otherwise we would be having this conversation in reverse."

    He nodded at that. "Your stating in the trial when my worthless petaQ of a brother tried to have me discomedated that you would have been proud to be my first officer had that happened because of the blood oath we took..." he shrugged. "What is, is."

    "Exactly. What is, is you're one of the best engineers in the quadrant, you're the heir of the house of Pag'hal, and you're going to have three months of leave with your wife in which you will hopefully make your mother a grandmother, and maybe then she'll stop nagging me about when I'm getting married."

    B'o just laughed. "I think she is still trying to set you up with my cousin, to be honest."

    Missy just groaned, her head in her hands. "Why me?"


    IKS VoDleH'e' veS (Emperor of War), 0745 shipboard time, August 11, 2410...

    "...clearances for the low-pass were granted yesterday, but while Denali's a class-M planet, there are still some things you need to be aware of." Lt. Colonel Eialu Masaana had slid neatly into Commander K'Than's position while the CAG of the Claws of the Emperor was recovering from his injuries-injuries sustained when his To'Duj fighter had an unfortunate meeting with a bit of space debris during a check-ride. "We're on neutral ground here, that means no potshots at the inevitable Federation vessels and craft," she continued. As she spoke, she walked along the line of Ferasan aviators, checking their Gee-loading suits and life support units. "No Brawling after the show, either, Wingman Two." she added, glaring up at a Ferasan pilot easily twice her mass. "Some of the wildlife may want to try to take a bite out of you - so you're flying guns-hot, don't get any ideas."

    "Lieutenant Colonel?" Lieutenant Lead asked, "Will you be flying with us?" the Ferasan asked.

    Eialu frowned. "I want to," she said. "With K'Than out, I'm going to have to, but I Want to, so yes... Leutenant Lead, you're still doing flight-lead, I'm Tailback Ch'Taa for this, we all need to be on our best while the Colonel recovers his strength."

    She finished trooping the line, "We'll get two practice runs in today, the show is tomorrow."
    She scooped up her helmet, "Places, warm 'em up and let's get in a good practice for the locals."

    Tailback Ch'Taa was painted a vivid red and gold checkerboard pattern with a ThlIngan numeral "6" on the ventral stabilizer. The Mk. II To'Duj was, perhaps, the best-handling model of the KDF's standard light-combat-craft, in spite of being superseded three times. The secret, in Eialu's opinion, was the 'defective' inertial compensation systems-unlike newer models, a pilot could feel the MkII's responses.
    It was entirely a 'pilot's' aircraft.

    "We are green, I have the ball." She leapt out into the darkness above a world of ice and snow and taiga and tundra, from space, it was beautiful.

    "Formation Ohlo for re-entry, let's give them a taste of tomorrow's show!" she said.

    In the cockpit, Eialu was truly happy.


    Vancouver Aerodrome Control

    "We just got a request from the KDF to begin their practice for tomorrow," the younger controller said, standing about 1.6 meters, looking human except for the neatly groomed reddish brown fur covering his face, large ears fanned out due to the heat inside the tower. He was also looking a bit tired, was a long night last night. For the past week there had been events most nights, and he'd been up a bit too late at several of the ongoing parties.

    "Traffic's clear, Civil Defense says possibility of Quad-raptors in the northern range. Ask them if they do run into any, try not to shoot them down over the city."

    "They won't be overflying the town anyway I think, but I'll pass it on," he said, keying the microphone. His companion opened the door to the walkway around the tower, breathing in the crisp -8 degree air. "Wish I'd brought my camera with me..."

    A bright, golden blossom flashed across the night skies, and a distant rumble like thunder. The blossom extended bright contrails of friction-plasma as the fighters streaked through the night.


    Claws of the Emperor, pre-exhibition practice demonstration...

    Eialu pulled a wing-over and dropped another 5000 feet, the HUD display showing terrain, thermal pockets, and 'non thermal atmospheric events', i.e. creatures or 'birds' Because Birdstrikes are bad enough--when they weigh as much as a shuttle, they're damn near catastrophic... sensors showed a random-moving thermal bloom ahead, and warning buzzers sounded. "Six, this is Five, I have local wildlife on my sensors." her wingman commented.

    "Anything below them?" Eialu asked.

    "Um...flats and rocks, some snow I guess - no people on the map reference..."

    She switched to manual targeting - the autolock wouldn't lock on anything not radiating or reflecting metallic...she was rewarded with a tone, and... "Cycling the Disruptors."

    The paired MkVIIIs were an older model, like the fighter. A double-stream of disruptor bolts peppered out from her nose, spearing something the mass-reader insisted was almost as heavy as a B'rel... if not as dense.

    "Trajectory's gonna drop it on a road," Five said.

    "I thought you said it was CLEAR, Five!!" Eialu shouted. She engaged her own little "Trick", adjusting the grav-lift systems one-handed and triggering a Tractor-beam to catch the injured (dead?) predator barely 100 meters from striking a roadway, and dragging/drawing it low over a frozen lake--something smashed the lake-ice open and caught the dead beast - she disengaged and added power to gain altitude.

    "What the **** was that?" Five asked, sliding into the five o'clock position.

    "I do not know... I just hope it can't jump any HIGHER," Eialu said. "Or catch up to a prey moving twice the speed of sound."

    She levelled out at 10k and slid into position at the extreme rear of the formation.



    USS Tiburon, 0800 local time

    She'd gotten a few hours sleep, and fortunately had a shiny enough (for reporting to admirals in person) uniform prepped when she beamed over from the Nighthawk. She was ready for anything - anything but what looked like a dinosaur in a Starfleet Sierra-2 Security uniform. That must be Lieutenant Commander LaRoca, she thought as she saluted. "Permission to come aboard?"

    The Deinon straightened his posture and returned the salute. "Permission Granted, welcome to the Tiburon, Captain Travis," he said. She was... smaller than he would have thought, maybe 1.6 meters, wearing a variant of the new Jupiter series uniforms. Privately he thought it was easier when everyone wore the same uniform, or at least the same series. His brother disagreed, allowing the crew of the Tiburon to wear whatever they wanted within the bounds of the new (very lax) uniform code. Some mornings it was hard for Rusty to keep track of who was who. "If you'll follow me, Captain, the Admiral has breakfast ready. He likes to combine briefings with meals - makes them go better."

    She hadn't eaten yet fortunately, she had been waiting till she got back on her homeworld but she could nibble a little bit. "Sounds good," she said as she followed Rusty to the lift and up to the Admiral's quarters at the forward end of deck two. She checked one last time before the door to make sure everything was straight, then followed him in.

    There was more than just the Admiral in there, it seems that briefing breakfasts weren't ones to be missed. There was the smell of freshly-cooked bacon, fresh bread, and what smelled like real coffee. The Admiral looked taller in person than he did on the viewer, or in his biographic profile that she'd looked up earlier, but then the official images never did anyone justice. "Good morning, Sir," she said, saluting automaticly.

    He just returned it then chuckled. "At ease captain, and grab a plate," he said as he poured himself a cup.

    "Is that real coffee?" she asked, "and bacon?" Her nose twitched some as she looked around. A few of the people she recognized by reputation, like Marq Sander, the half-Klingon wunderkind from STS. She remembered Hank Miller from a trip into the Cardassian territories back when she was just the helm on the South Dakota. Whatever he's been up to since then had led him out of a Starfleet uniform.

    "One of the perks of my job," Jesu grinned. "Seeing as how I'm often called upon to entertain foreign dignitaries, I get real food and actual chefs. You'd be surprised how much better negotiations go after a good dinner."

    Missy chuckled, filling a plate with bacon and grabbing a cup of the heavenly smelling coffee. "I can imagine," she said as she grabbed one of the fresh biscuits as well and had a seat.

    "Alright, lets get started," the Admiral said as he sat down as well, waiting for everyone to have their plates and places. "First off, obviously we have competition. Hacksaw, why don't you bring us all up to speed on that?"

    The Admiral's intelligence advisor nodded. "That big carrier out there is the IKS VoDleH'e' veS. It's assigned to the Honor Guard, but it's not a frontline ship. It's actually a mobile B of O for the Claws of the Emperor an elite demonstration squadron. Like our Nova Squadron, except they're not staffed with Academy cadets. The Claws is stacked with experienced combat pilots, mostly Ferasans, with a handful of Gorn and Orions."

    Missy's fox-like ears perked. "No Klingons on a Klingon demonstration squadron? That's a little odd."

    "They fly old To'Duj Mk. IIs, which have only limited inertial dampening. Fine for combat, but some of the maneuvers these guys run strain the limits of Klingon physiology. They need pilots who are a bit more durable."

    "Also, theres the reflex issue," Jesu remarked. "Ferasans just have superior reflexes. Same reason we have so many Caitians in our air wing."

    "Anyway," Miller went on, "We've picked up chatter that the Claws are going to be doing a practice run for their show tomorrow right about now, we've got someone monitoring that, I trust?"

    Traa'cee, the Tiburon's Tac officer nodded. "Indeed; we're monitoring both their comm and their course. They did say something over the channel as they launched to have their weapons armed? but that was after being advised by local control that they should be."

    "Not really a big deal," Missy replied. "The quadraptors can get big enough to be a threat to something runabout sized. We don't use a lot of local air travel, mainly because of risk of attacks, and the weather can be a problem too. Plus if they did try something stupid, well, Vancouver is one of the non-domed cities, so they have good air defense."

    "The atmosphere is breathable, why the domes?" Rusty asked as he stabbed a piece of ham steak with a fork - not his 6cm claws, Missy noted.

    "Vancouver is the most temperate part of the planet, even with sub-freezing temps being about as high as it gets. Up in Jalandhar, or Salem, it gets a lot colder. Hence the domes, protect both against climate and predators."

    "Are the predators really that bad?" Marq wondered.

    "Well," she said, as she reached back over her shoulder. She had come over armed, as she was going down to the planet from the Tiburon. Undoing a snap she pulled on the leather wrapped hilt strapped to her back, pulling out what looked like a piece of bluish crystal, shaped into what looked like a knife blade... or maybe it was a tooth, just over 40 centimeters long. "This is made from the tip of a fang from an Ice Weasel."

    Several of the people in the room stared at the blade. "That's just the tip? How big was it originally?"

    She let the light catch it, refracting through the semi transparent crystalline structure. "About two and a half meters, the critter this one came off of was about, oh," she said, trying to remember "A hundred and seventy meters or so." She carefully handed the blade across the table to the Admiral.

    "I like animals," Jesu remarked as he examined it, "especially dangerous types, but I don't think I'd want to run into one of these?"

    "Fortunately they're semi-aquatic," Missy said as she munched her bacon. "They live under the pack ice, and can also go through the ice - though generally only when it's down to fifty meters thick, more of course for the bigger ones. Thats what got the Klingons when they discovered us - they sat down on the flattest area - right on the ice in the bay..."

    "At which point the critter thought the bird of prey was dinner?" Dr. Maria Espinoza figured.

    "Pretty much," Missy said with a chuckle. "Fortunately it couldn't digest it and it they were later able to salvage something from its dead corpse."

    "What do they usually eat?"

    "Not rightly sure - the oceans are deep, and not much explored. They've found bones and carcasses, similar to whales from earth, and there is a lot of things similar to krill and plankton they feed on, we think," she shrugged. "Basically, being semi amphibious, they eat anything that isn't bigger than them. Fortunately they're rarely a threat. We've more problems from the quadraptors, direbears, and worgs."

    Jesu nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "About the political situation, how do most colonists see the Federation?"

    "One thing to remember, sir, is I haven't been back in a decade. But when I was here, to a lot of folks, it's an ancestral home. They were raised on stories of India, and Alaska, where most of the original colonists were from. But it's like legends of the past, especially with some of the Federation's restrictions they put on those of us who wanted to join Starfleet. The forced sterilizations, for one, weren't popular-"

    "What?" Maria dropped her fork, looking horrified, many of the others looked shocked as well.

    "What do you mean?" Jesu asked

    "One of the conditions to my being accepted to Starfleet Academy fourteen years ago... was being that I was an 'augment'," she said, "that if my DNA was passed on, it would be considered a crime against humanity. So If I wanted to go to space..." she shrugged. "At least that was overruled later, a bit late for me, but any others going didn't have to go through that. That's why there's only maybe two dozen from here serving in Starfleet... but over eight hundred and forty in the KDF."

    "That's..." Jesu just shook his head. "That's monstrous, I am truly sorry they made you go through that."

    "Thank you, sir," Missy said softly. "But I gave up children, and got the stars instead. Decent enough trade, I suppose."

    He nodded, not much else to say there, going on to the next thing. "The empire sending the Claws of the Emperor out here is something that we should respond too as well." He grinned a bit. "Fortunately, while we may not spend all our time doing airshows, we do have some very good pilots in our air wing."

    Miller just snorted over his coffee. "Hell, you aren't that bad yourself. or did you forget everything you learned in Nova Squadron?"

    Jesu just grinned at Hacksaw. "Now that you mention it, it would be fun to jump back in the cockpit... what do you say, wanna be my wingman again?"

    MIller almost did a spit-take "Oh no - that was years ago!"

    "C'mon, you've kept current. And how many chances will there be to do something like this?"

    "Mmm... you've got a point, and it would be good training," Miller replied with not quite a smile, but a smirk at least. "Alright, I'm in."

    "Excellent. I'll talk to Hunter about about putting a performance. Our Type-16s may not be as maneuverable as a To'Duj, but we can pull some tricks they can't." Jesu caught Rusty looking at him askance. "Don't worry, I won't try to pull that trick again."

    "What trick?" Marq asked.

    "A modification of the Kolvoord Starburst," Rusty told him, "In which the sixth pilot flies up through the center of the formation."

    "It worked," Jesu said with a shrug. "In the simulator, at least."

    "Once," Rusty clarified.

    "Hey, it was Paris's idea, and he was the instructor!"

    "And I believe you'll find that Captain Tom Paris is now barred from teaching anything related to small craft piloting at the Academy," Rusty announced.

    "Whatever. I'll leave it to Hunter to plan out the maneuvers." the Admiral looked at the chronometer. "And it's time we were headed down to meet with the local authorities. Away team, see to your gear - we'll be beaming down in five."

    As people were heading towards the door, Missy paused by the Admiral. "Sir, do you have any objections to letting folks have a few days of shore leave here?"

    "Not at all, I'm letting whoever wants to head down, as well," he said with a smile as he pulled a long white winter coat from his wardrobe. "I know we haven't been in constant operations this cruise as long as you have, but It's always good to let your people get some sky over their heads whenever you can."

    Missy watched the Admiral open a cabinet that held an impressive collection of personal weapons. She nodded approvingly as he selected a new Mk. XII Omega autocarbine - a compact weapon that packed an impressive punch. Then her eyes then widened in surprise as he withdrew a Nausicaan tegolar saber from a scabbard, checked the edges and sheathed it before attaching it to his belt. "Where'd you get that, sir?" she asked him curiously.

    "Oh, just a little souvenir I picked up along the way," he said. "I found it a Klingon captain's ready room while I was borrowing his ship."

    Missy followed him down the turbolift and thought to herself, Definitely not a typical diplomat.


    IKS VoDleH'e' veS, 0850 planetary time...

    "Lieutenant Colonel, a word?" Colonel Merreur K'Tram growled.

    Eialu looked over, and reached out of the soak-tub. "Yes Colonel?" she asked, rising.

    The folds from her P-suit left abrasions during the sudden-high-gee result of her tractor-beam-trick. abrasions, and dark, dark, brownish bruises.

    "I wanted to go over your practice notes," the huge Ferasan Colonel said, and for once, Eialu was deeply grateful that Ferasan standards of nudity weren't like Klingon or even Orions-the Felinoids found humanoids to be, as a rule, not appealing sexually - the Colonel was not even slightly abashed at her nudity as she reached over and pulled a towel down to dry off.

    "We could've done that at the scheduled brief," she said. "Sir, what is really the issue?"

    He pointed a long, clawed finger at her, "You injured yourself today," he told her, somewhat unnecessarily. "The Claws of the Emperor is an elite demonstration team for elite pilots, one of the main reasons everyone is a Ferasan - at least normally - is that we are, on the whole, more durable than..." he tried not to use the pejorative.

    "Softskins? Hairless apes?" Eialu offered. "Food that talks?" she added. "Yeah, I'm aware of that." She stretched. "I'll be fine, sir - we Orions heal from light damage fairly quickly."

    "You aren't healing as fast as you should be," he declared. "I have discussed it with Dr. T'errg, he said your pheromone suppressants are interfering with your immune system."

    "So... I'll take another hit of immune boosters," she said. "It's really NOT a big deal."

    The Ferasan Colonel shook his head. "No," he told her. "The risk of dependency is too great in your case - especially with fresh injuries. I'm taking you off the squad, you will be reassigned to the ground detachment - cheer up, several of them are your own kind."

    "But-" she started. He issued a warning growl.

    "It's good for your professional development as an officer to pull surface-duty, Eialu--you can't fly fighters for an entire career. Eventually every officer in the KDF is expected to be able to handle troops in an away mission, conduct diplomacy with neutrals, and even endure a reception or two among Federation officers. You have had a good run as a pilot, but now, it's time to grow up and put away kitten's things - I've made the call, and I'll remind you who's got not only physical reach, physical strength, speed, toughness, but also experience - I would not advise challenging me on this." The old, gray-muzzled Ferasan loomed rather well.

    Eialu sighed. "Yes sir... what about the show?" she asked.

    "Ensign Spots has qualified, and you've noted he has the talent and the drive in your evaluations - is he ready for his first show? Because you did say something about that during his last check-ride with the Squadron..?" Merreur K'Tram rumbled.

    "He's ready - his record prior to being assigned as a backup is good, the team gets along with him..." she said... "But I wanted to fly this one..."

    "We are Officers, senior officers, Lieutenant Colonel, we often do not get 'what we want' - Slot him, and revise the flight notes, there is still time for them to practice before the show...and you may want to dress...warmly - the air down there is frightfully cold for a creature like yourself."


    Vancouver Aerodrome, Terminal C, 1230 hours local time, Temperature is -2C, skies are clear...

    Eialu took the precautions to heart, and bundled up before she stepped out into the bright afternoon, going so far as to pull on a hooded parka. She did leave the hood down - it was only two degrees below the freezing point of water, after all - well within tolerable ranges for an Orion.

    The native officers and officials here to meet with the team reps, including her, were, by contrast, lightly dressed - even the native Klingon only wore a fairly standard jacket.

    She hadn't felt this out-of-place since she stepped aboard her first assignment in the Regulars - back then, she'd been under dressed in traditional Orion 'clothes'. Here, she was bundled up like a waddle.

    "Lt. Colonel, we half expected you to show up in a bikini and loincloth, given how warm it is today," the Denali security delegation's apparent spokesman said.

    "Uh, yeah...no thanks - I don't need to add hypothermia to my list of accomplishments," Eialu said with a smile. "I need to arrange quartering for the ground crew, and a hangar for spares, so, which of you do I ask about that?"

    "We've already got that arranged through the Klingon ambassador," the grey furred Denali officer said. He was in a grey and white uniform that looked both functional and comfortable, patch on the left shoulder showing a diving quad-raptor holding missiles, under that the logo read Third Fighter Wing. "We've got two squadrons of To'Duj fighters, so we're set up for their maintenance. They're the older Mark II's, I'm afraid - they were surplus so they pretty much gave them to us to get them out of the way probably."

    Eialu looked at the Denali officer. "Mark II's handle better than the later models," she said. "The Claws use MkII's for that reason. I flew MkVII's and 'easy Eights' during the Ker'rat and Otha campaigns - the Two's more of a 'pilot's' bird, even if it DOES lose some in the acceleration, shielding, and armoring? I'll have my chief talk to your chief, maybe we can help you wring more out of your Twos? or maybe you can give US some tips on getting more out of ours." Her tone reflected her mood - in this case, it wasn't mocking, but it WAS light - talking spacecraft and fighters with a peer was a hell of a lot more comfortable, than 'Doing Diplomacy' with officials. She could talk flying all night - it was safe for her, unlike the intense political discussions that were wardroom fodder among non-aviators (or so she had found).

    Captain K'tracht, the aide she'd been assigned, cleared his throat. < "Lieutenant Colonel, I have to remind you you're grounded - or the Colonel will... be displeased," > he said in Klingon,

    She shot the KDF marine a cross look. <"I wasn't going to ask for a check-flight!"> she said in an insistent tone. <"I just... wanted to clear up a misconception about one of my favourite rides!">

    <"Yes, you were,"> the old, hard-gray-haired Klingon stated. <"YOU are here to deal with the officials, and I am here to keep you out of... trouble.">

    She blushed a light brown, and turned to the Denali flight officer. "We can talk flying later?" she asked in a hopeful tone, then shifted gears visibly... "In the meantime, is there somewhere... warm?" She shivered in spite of the bundling. "I suddenly realized it's very, very cold out here?"

    "Right this way, Ma'am," he said diplomatically, figuring that it probably wouldn't be polite at the moment to let it be known he spoke Klingon as well. "If you'll follow me..."
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Episode 3- Home Again

    I've been many places
    I've travelled 'round the world
    Always on the search for something new
    But what does it matter
    When all the roads I've crossed
    Always seem to lead back to you...

    Old familiar faces
    Everyone you meet
    Following the ways of the land
    Cobblestones and lanterns
    Lining every street
    Calling me to come home again

    Dancing in the moonlight
    Singing in the rain
    Oh, it's good to be back home again
    Laughing in the sunlight
    Running down the lane
    Oh, it's good to be back home again

    When you play with fire
    Sometimes you get burned
    It happens when you take a chance or two
    But time is never wasted
    When you've lived and learned
    And in time it all comes back to you...

    Dancing in the moonlight
    Singing in the rain
    Oh, it's good to be back home again
    Laughing in the sunlight
    Running down the lane
    Oh, it's good to be back home again

    And when I got weary
    I'd sit a while and rest
    Memories invading my mind
    All the things I'd treasured
    The ones I'd loved the best
    Were the things that I'd left behind....

    Old familiar faces
    Everyone you meet
    Following the ways of the land
    Cobblestones and lanterns
    Lining every street
    Calling me to come home again

    Dancing in the moonlight
    Singing in the rain
    Oh, it's good to be back home again
    Laughing in the sunlight
    Running down the lane
    Oh, it's good to be back home again

    lalalalalala....Oh, it's good to be back home again
    lalalalalala....Oh, it's good to be back home again

    Dancing in the moonlight
    Singing in the rain
    Oh, it's good to be back home again
    Laughing in the sunlight
    Running down the lane
    Oh, it's good to be back home again

    Dancing in the moonlight
    Singing in the rain...
    Oh, it's good to be back home again

    -Ritchie Blackmore, Home Again



    Vancouver, Denali

    From the ground, it was obvious where the planet got it's name. The city was surrounded on three sides by mountains, the largest peak to the north looking remarkably like the Denali in the Alaska range on Earth. The city itself was rather large, over six million people in the metro area--and it seemed to Missy like every single one of them was outside the windows of the transporter station.

    Inside was nowhere near as crowded, just three people were waiting for them. The transporter operator, a local wearing a grey jumpsuit that almost matched his grey hair, the Federation colonial development officer, Margaret Watson, a fifty-ish looking woman in a light pink dress covered with a parka, probably not the best thing to wear in the local climate, and the local government representative. She was dressed similarly to her counterpart, though with her light brown fur she probably handled it better than the Federation rep. In all she looked slightly like a slightly less hyper Pomeranian that belonged to a woman Jesu dated several years back-he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

    "Admiral LaRoca? I?m Rachelle Kincaid, from the Governor-General's office," she said brightly. "It?s a pleasure to meet you."

    "Likewise" he said as he stepped off the transporter pad. "This is my first officer, Commander Marq Sander, diplomatic advisors Hank Miller and Ennari Dai, and my security chief, Lieutenant Commander LaRoca Rusty." All that could be seen of Rusty was the tip of his snout poking out of his parka hood.

    The Denali rep nodded. "nice to meet all of you," she said. "It?s kind of warm out there today, should get above zero by this afternoon." In fact, she and the transporter tech were the only ones not in heavy clothing, Ms. Kincaid would have looked at home in what she was wearing in any city back on earth in summer.

    "That's warm? I'm freezing already and we're not even outside," Ennari grumbled good naturedly. But she was freezing, despite being under even more layers than Rusty was.

    "Don't feel bad, we were in orbit of Risa for a couple weeks during that big festival of theirs...I was the only one who didn't go down to the surface. Too darn hot" Captain Travis said with a grin.

    The Federation rep, meanwhile, who had stayed in the background, stepped forward. "So which of you two," she said, indicating the two civilians, "is going to be my replacement?"

    "Neither, we?re not Colonial Development," Miller said, eying the woman. "She's FDC, I'm SI." CD had a...well not quite useless reputation, but as close to it as you could get sometimes. If Ms. Williams was an example of one of their field reps...no wonder colonies were leaving left and right. It was clear by her attitude and even her body language that she looked down on the people she was sent here to work with, and most others as well from the indignant look she shot him.

    "You don't understand, Admiral, I can't stay here another minute..."

    "There will be time to discuss your concerns later," Jesu said, cutting her off. Ms. Kincaid just stood there quietly patient, she'd probably had to deal with the unpleasant woman day in and out. Besides, there was another issue that could go up in their faces shortly he thought, looking at Travis. She had the same wild eyed slightly panicked look he probably had the first time he was paraded out in front of a large crowd with friends and family
    present--and that was a Very large crowd outside.

    Rusty was looking out the polarized window. "Looks like a couple thousand easily, protesters?" he asked.

    "Oh no, Colonel Travis was the first from here to be accepted to Starfleet Academy," Rachelle said brightly. "So her coming back commanding one of Starfleet's biggest ships is a rather big deal."

    "Uhm, actually a Sovereign is an older design, and is smaller than the new Odysseys," Missy said, though it came out as more of a squeak as she looked down at the people waiting outside...

    "Don't sell yourself short," Miller said. "Yeah, the Odyssey is the new hotness--but there's a handful of those, and the Sovereign-class is still the backbone of the fleet."

    Jesu just grinned reassuringly at her. "Look at it this way, you've been dealing with Borg for how long now in Omega? Now you've got a crowd of people who are not trying to assimilate you."

    She chuckled. "Well when you put it that way Sir, doesn't seem near as bad, after all." They headed for the exit, the noise getting louder.

    As they got to the door, Jesu whispered, "Look on the bright side, when I made Admiral and went home to La Paz to visit my papi, they had a parade for me when I got there. And there was a thirty-piece mariachi band waiting for me at the shuttlepad. At least I don?t see any floats waiting for you."

    Taking a deep breath she laughed. "True that, Sir," she said, before stepping through the door to the thundering cheers.



    One hour later, Capitol Plaza

    The floats were there, just around the corner. Along with the marching band. While it wasn't how they were supposed to get there, even Kincaids driver was pulled up on one of the floats as well, at least they made it to the Plaza, where the parade ended. Fortunately there were no speeches expected, the parade itself being a practice session for the next day.

    "Sorry about that," Kincaid said, "but I forgot the main road was closed, getting there this way was a bit easier."

    "For you, maybe," Travis muttered under her breath, she was so glad she did not have to do that again tomorrow. She'd rather face a planet full of Borg.

    They left the plaza, the buildings were, well not warm. Tolerable was more like it, 19, 20 degrees maybe. The offices at least were warmer, though still none of the delegation would be taking their parkas off. "Here we go, I hope this is more comfortable."

    "Hummph! Nothing on this damned world is comfortable!" The Colonial Development officer sighed in the manner of the long suffering, to her credit

    Kincaid didn't react--of course, she?d probably heard the same complaints a thousand times already.

    Missy just glared at Ms Watson, going over to the sideboard where there was coffee and other beverages spread out. Pouring herself a cup she sat down, less likely to say something she might regret if she was drinking something. "So , I understand there will be another vote this friday?"

    "Yes, it has been a while since we've applied, and usually a colony from Earth approval is mostly automatic. We've been up for admission for seventeen times now, and each time it gets tabled without discussion?"

    The door-guards announced the arrival of the Klingon Ambassador and the delegation from the Imperial forces with a quiet word.

    "Ambassador Koldor, House of Woldan, at your service, Ms. Kincaid-we spoke over long-wave, and I'm pleased that you've allowed this visit." Koldor was a middle-aged Klingon with Lt. General's markings and the band on his sash showing his recent assignment to the Empire?s Diplomatic arm. "We appreciate our relationship with Denali." His voice was uncharacteristically fluid, smooth-clear and melodious-an unusual trait among Klingons, even moreso among experienced senior officers.

    "This-" he gestured to a figure that was almost buried under her parka, "Is Leutenant Colonel Eialu of the House Masaana, she is acting as my Aide in this matter-a favour to her Colonel, he wants her to get some ?surface time? while she heals from recent...injuries."

    "mmammmfff!" Eialu was a younger woman-and she struggled out of her parka first, before taking a knee to Kincaid, "Honorable, I am pleased to meet you?" she stood and nodded with some grace to LaRoca, "Admiral," and then to Missy, "Captain-that was your Sovereign, the famed Nighthawk?"

    "well I wouldn't go that far, she's a good ship, but it's the crew that makes it good-I just tell them where to go" she replied modestly.


    "I have heard over the last few weeks and read briefings on your work against the Borg, there is no 'far enough'-You and your crew are well regarded by Honor Guard and other allied forces, and you yourself have been mentioned by name in dispatches." Eialu said, "I sometimes have wondered if I would measure up to your lead shuttle pilot...but-" she cocked an eye to the Ambassador, "I'm grounded. Maybe some other time...and?" she looked at the CD rep. "OH, Goood!!!" she smiled wide, an innocent smile, guileless and every bit as clumsy as she?d been a moment before struggling from her parka, "Colonial Development has attended-does this mean??"

    Koldor, ever the diplomat, laid a warning hand on her shoulder, then removed it.

    "Mean what?" the Rep asked.

    "Well, your agency does so much good work-Three worlds have joined the Empire without a shot thanks to your agency and it's handling of Colonist affairs-you're considered one of the best arguments for secession we have!" Eialu said brightly. "I wonder, Ambassador, can we give the ColDevRep a medal or something when this is done?"

    Missy had went to take another sip of her coffee when Eialu said that, causing her to sputter as the liquid ended up going the wrong way and coming out her nose. Fortunately she drank it cold..but still. At least she didn't laugh out loud like she would have if she wasn't drinking. Admiral LaRoca on the other hand, caught without a mouthful of coffee, had to exert a great deal of self control to remain impassive. Rusty was doubled over and wheezing - it could have been his species equivalent to a laugh - fortunately he was out of site of the diplomats. The other Starfleet people shared embarrassed smiles.

    Ms Williams sputtered as much as Travis did, though just about as coherently. Kincaid however simply smiled politely. "you are always welcome here Ambassador. The Empire is our closest neighbor, you have helped us in the past, and we help your people on the nearby colonies." she shrugged "in a way it's our frontier mentality, as it's been called. You help your neighbors." she sighed "unfortunately, that's been a bit of an issue of late."

    "The piracy problem." Koldor said, "The empire is aware of it...which is part of the reason I have come here, and part of the reason we brought you a gift-admittedly, one that needs some work done." he said, and eyed Eialu ruefully, "Leutenant Colonel, could you fetch me a cup of their superb coffee, this matter requires some...delicacy."

    Eialu wandered to the coffee pots, and set about filling the Ambassador?s cup.

    Admiral LaRoca frowned "what Piracy problem are you speaking of? We had no news of any issues like this in the reports" he said, with a sharp glance towards Williams."

    "Put bluntly, someone is raiding shipping between Denali, and their trading partners." Koldor said, "I am frankly shocked you weren't apprised of this-the lost revenues to our good friends-" he gestured to Kincaid, "are reaching into the billions of credits." he paused, "and there is the loss of life and shipping to consider as well."

    "We don't care about the Revenue, while it is nice-the important thing is people are going hungry, and we have an abundance of food. Hell when the beef weighs fifteen tons, that's a lot of meat, and we can't eat it all. We've warehouses full to the rafters-but every civilian ship that tries to make the run..never makes it. And, no offense Ambassador, but the Empire, well, the local administrator hasn't shown much initiative to look into it."

    "Goron got his position as a sinecure, he hardly does the job." Koldor said, "which is the other reason I'm here-to do that job until his replacement has been appointed?" he barked an ironic laugh, "apparently my work as the assistant transition governor to Gornar was noticed, so here I am, to reassure our trading partners, and get to the bottom of this-preferably before too many of our people starve to death."

    "Ah, yes," LaRoca nodded. "You were General Klag's right-hand-man on Gornar, and from what I've read you were largely responsible for lifting martial law after only a week."

    "Guilty as charged." Koldor said, "My good friend General Ssharki has told me stories of an Admiral LaRoca...I imagined you to be...older." he said,

    "The Gornar situation was significantly different from this one-there, we KNEW who the enemy was, and where, and most importantly, who they were not?" he shrugged, and accepted the cup of coffee from Eialu, who tried to make herself less-noticeable a presence, "This time, it is...different. the bulk shipment of foods is a low-price high-bulk commodity, very little profit in raiding it, yet the sheer tonnage of shipping destroyed is an indicator someone is specifically targeting it...which makes this a political, as opposed to economic issue, and politics leads to warfare-knowing who the enemy IS is of significant value in a conflict."

    "Only outer colony worlds like ours, and the Klingon colonies, ok , most Klingons prefer real food" Missy said, as she thought out loud. "Most Federation worlds use replicators for a lot of things, food wise. So whoever it is may be trying to starve out your colonies?"

    "NO, they are definitely targeting YOUR world." Koldor said, "We do not lack for replicator capacity-even on poorer colonies-which these are not. The raids are directed to strangle your world's diplomatic and economic options-if you were trading to the Federation in the same scale, I suspect, though I may be wrong, that it would be the same story, only with Admiral LaRoca here to investigate it as opposed to myself." he sipped his coffee, "We value Denali as an independent-your independence is being threatened by this."

    "It has been several years since I was out there" Missy admitted "but still, real is better. I see your point though Ambassador." she paused "that 'gift' you mentioned, would that be the derelict Marauder that was towed here?"

    ."yes, a gift that teaches-in the process of refitting it, you will gain the ability to build your own starships, in the process of using it, you will be able to develop a wider corps of naval personnel." Koldor said, "We have given similar 'gifts' to the recently formed Moab Confederacy-to replace the defenses the Colonial Development Agency stripped from them-it is one thing to hold the guns, but you get truer loyalty and friendship by handing them to your allies."


    "Oh HELL no!" Williams voice raised was even more abrasive than when she was trying to be polite "Admiral, you can not allow this! This is a violation of section 243.4, paragraph seven, subsector nine-colony worlds can NOT be armed, they can NOT have a weapons industry! they can not-"

    "Defend themselves?" Kincaid asked. "We are months away from either the Empire or the Federation. Yes we have applied for membership-but also, under section 128, member worlds can have their own defenses. Such as the Andorians and Caitians for example."

    "I wasn?t aware that Denali was a Federation colony," LaRoca said coolly, "I'm very sure I'd be among the first to know if that had changed. And I?m also fairly sure that there are a few Starfleet regs about what we can and cannot do when it comes to dealing with non-member worlds - unilateral disarmament would be on the "can?t" list, right, Hacksaw?"

    Miller nodded. "Yep."

    "wow...keep talking Ms. Williams, you are SO making our case for us." Eialu said, perching on the back of a chair and sipping her own cup of hot coffee, "Tell me more!" her voice was filled with...delight, but her grin was feral, and predatory.

    "they're from EARTH! We own them! They don?t have the right to go against the will of the Federation!"

    "Own 'em' you have a bill of sale on that?" Eialu asked, "can I see it? Maybe we could make a counter-offer?" she nibbled on a cookie between sentences.


    "Miss Williams," Jesu said with a sigh, "might I suggest that you shut the **** up and get the **** out before you make an even bigger fool of yourself than you already have. As a fellow Earth native, you embarrass me."

    "they're ****ING AUGMENTS!" she shrieked, lips foaming "They're Khan revisited, either we control them or they'll destroy us!"

    Missy on the other hand looked calm. Very calm...probably too calm. she put her coffee cup down and started to take a step forward, only to be blocked by Rusty, who noticed the look, and smelled her anger. The Deinon just barely shook his head, hissing "she's not worth it.." under his breath. She nodded, then simply stood straight, the glare from her blue eyes at Williams hot enough to melt neutronium.

    Eialu looked straight at Williams, "Wow...and I thought the Klingons were paranoid." she said, "I guess it?s a good thing we didn't bring a wing of raptors too?" Koldor shot her a warning look she completely ignored, "Personally, I think being armed and free is better than being disarmed and a subject..and the Empire?s official policy largely supports me on that." s he sighed, "and I don't know-being as I skipped Academy, but isn't the whole bag of the Federation about infinite diversity in infinite combinations?" she finished her cookie, and took a sip of coffee, "Doesn't sound like ColDev holds to that philosophy...maybe Aunt Damojena's right after all."

    Ennari Dai looked at Kincaid with a profoundly apologetic expression. "Madame, I would like to assure you that Miss Williams? opinions are her own, and in no way represent official Federation policy. The Federation has no desire whatsoever to 'control' your citizens. Once your membership is approved, the only things that would change would be improvements to education and medical care, and a swift Starfleet response to things like pirate attacks on your shipping."

    Kincaid just nodded , and worse, ignored the still-ranting Williams at this point. "we're used to it, and we know. At the end of the week though, it won?t be decided here, but in how the population votes. That however is beside the point-no matter what happens, our relationship with our neighbors will not change. We will not let them go hungry due to political necessities."

    "Given the approaching vote, the Empire feels it is politically necessary to help you with this piracy problem." Koldor said, "just as I'm beginning to think it politically necessary to ask Lt. Colonel Eialu to assist Representative Williams out the door to cool her head a bit...unless you feel security personnel would be more appropriate?"

    "I would be happy to take Miss Williams out for some fresh air," Rusty spoke up, from behind the offending person.

    Williams just glowered "Fools, the lot of you. Go then, do what you will. when the monsters rise up, remember I tried to warn you!" She turned, jumped on sight of the Deinon, sidestepped him and stalked out the door, attempting to slam it hard on her way out.

    "SHe's funny." Eialu said, letting a slight disappointment tinge her voice, "I don't suppose anyone recorded that?" Koldor cuffed her behind the ear.

    "Ouch! okay, okay...serious?" she sighed, "Good coffee."

    "Yes, the coffee is excellent," Admiral LaRoca agreed.

    Sighing, Missy released the breath she had been holding. "allright. That Marauder you brought won?t be operational for months if it?s as bad as looks."

    "Weeks to months." Eialu spoke up, "The warp-cores in good shape, she needs a retrofit on the EPS runs, new computer core, replacement of structural fittings from frame 1901 to 3399, and installation of components we stocked in the cargo bays, including weapons systems and targeting gear-all of the major systems are available on the market at a discount compared to say, a retrofit of a K'Tinga or Vor'cha class."

    "still, thats in a yard, we don?t really have one yet, so figure longer." she pondered "I assume Ambassador that the KDF doesn?t have any ships in that area either due to other operational or political requirements?"

    Koldor sighed, "For the time being, no-I have a minor purge to conduct in the Regional forces, could be messy...in the meantime, I have the authority to loan you advisors and personnel...specifically the Claws of the Emperor squadron and their tech teams to assist you in bootstrapping...and?" He sighed, "We aren?t just providing the ship-Major K'tracht is a R'enwl, a pln'a'Duj who knows how to conduct ?free falling? structural restoration. He will be remaining here as cadre for your academy."

    "If it wasn't on your side of the border I?d go after your pirates myself," Jesu mentioned.

    Missy looked surprised at that. "That could take months. I'm sure you have more vital tasks to attend to, Admiral."

    "No, not really," LaRoca said off-handedly. "I'm basically the FDC's firefighter. I go where there?s a fire. I see a fire, I go put it out. Pirates threatening the economic welfare of an Earth colony and a potential Federation member world seems like some sort of fire to me."

    "While the Empire may not be comfortable of the idea of Starfleet ships patrolling in it?s borders" Kincaid said as she thought. "Captain Travis is also a Colonel in the Home Guard...if she just happens to be with the Federation ships on a mission of importance for both governments, that might be enough to get authorization for such a mission."

    "and there?s not much out there anyway. It's not like we'd be spotted to be honest. The only ones that would need to know would be the colonies, and hell can load up the shuttle decks and holds when we go out there. " Missy grinned "not the first time I've had to play freighter with relief supplies to somewhere."

    Koldor shrugged, "The Empire will be comfortable enough with your visitations, Captain..Admiral-so long as they are not hostile, and are escorted." He grinned, "And they WILL be escorted visits." he nodded to Eialu, "The front lines are a long way from here, we make our own rules this far out...if the Chancellor has a problem, he can attempt to relieve me."

    Marq Sander cleared his throat. "I'm fairly sure the Chancellor won?t have a problem with anything anyone as well-connected as you decides to do, Ambassador."

    Koldor grinned, "My thoughts precisely, Commander." he said, "Isn't that right, Leutenant Colonel? No problems here?"

    "coffee got empty." Eialu said, and yawned, "politics..so...boring."

    he cuffed her again-gently this time, "If your cup is empty, re-fill it, and wake up-this is important."

    "In the interests of full disclosure," Admiral LaRoca said, "I do have a few' ah, former citizens of the Empire aboard my ship? more than a few - actually I have over a dozen Klingons, Gorn, and Orions on my ship. And one Lethean. And one Nausicaan."

    "Do they serve you honourably?" Koldor asked, tapping his cup to remind Eialu to re-fill it.

    "Absolutely. In fact, Rusty prefers working with them over his Starfleet-trained security staff."

    "Then their service can not be a source of shame," the Klingon said. "It is all anyone can ask."

    "Just as long as there aren't any problems with our? escorts."

    "I can arrange to have escorts that know what they are doing, and why they do it." Koldor told him, "I am not without...allies of my own."

    Kincaid looked relieved "thank you Ambassador, Admiral, and colonel" she said "while we are mostly self sufficient...the contact is needed with both the Empire, and the Federation. Though it has been over six months since we?ve had any federation transports, most of them didn't carry anything other than prospective colonists, and a mineral sample team." she shrugged "which didn't pan out."

    "They didn't find anything?" Marq asked.

    "No, they got eaten by the wildlife."

    "Sounds like we should go hunting some time-soon, perhaps." Koldor said, "the danger sounds invigorating."

    "My family runs an outfitter company that sets up hunting trips Ambassador" Missy replied "They can find you any prey you want to try on this planet-whether you can kill it, well that?s up to you" she said with a grin.

    "THAT sounds like a lot of fun." Koldor said, "I trust when all of our business here is completed, I may even bring my younger brother here for a safari." he said, "he might even be good at it-Kahless? name he's not good at much else...though he tries..and tries...and tries the patience of everyone around him with his trying."

    Rusty laughed out loud at that, a noise from the back of his throat that would have sounded terrifying in any other context. "Sound?s like a classmate of mine," he said finally.

    "My brother?s heart is good, but he tries too hard to be like our father, and he lacks the talent-if he would just settle down and think more than he acts he might not be known as ?The Fool?." Koldor sipped his fresh coffee, "I love him, but he is so...he tries so hard to do the right thing, I think sometimes he will break himself-some time off-away from the pressures of our work, would do him a world of good."

    "So I take it big-game hunting is a popular tourist attraction?" Ennari asked

    Missy nodded "A lot of their business is with the Empire-mainly because a lot of people from the Federation don?t care for hunting. But it?s not a sport-it?s survival here. If the predators are not kept in check...if the herds get too thin, well then they go looking for something else to eat. Like us."

    "You?d be surprised how many Feddies would go for the opportunity to take their lives in their hands," Jesu remarked. "The hunter-killer instinct hasn't completely died out in my species. There are safari outfitters on Sherman?s Planet that will happily help you hunt down a Ligorian mastodon, or even a screech rhino if two-thousand-tons-plus is your definition of ?big game.? Heck, even on Earth, my dad takes people out fishing for tuna and swordfish almost every day. Really, the trip out here is probably the biggest deterrent to your world being swamped with Fed tourists."

    "True. maybe later, when things like the Sipstream drive filter down to civilian transports, we might get more. But that?s something that probably won?t

    happen for a while" Rachelle said "it would be nice. The last time I went to Earth I was gone almost two years, for a six week stay."

    Eialu looked around the room, then she kind of squeaked, "um. Ambassador?"

    "What NOW?" Koldor asked, half humourously.

    "Um, may I be excused?" she asked, "and could someone point me to the ah...Head?" she was clearly very, very uncomfortable.

    "Down the hall, to the right" Rachelle said with a smile.

    Eialu hurried out the door indicated. Koldor watched her, and sipped his coffee, "Oh, that's right, I was supposed to warn her about that."

    Kincaid looked puzzled "warn her about what?"

    "The earth-derived coffee bean has, when roasted and boiled, to produce this fine beverage, a laxative effect on Orion physiology. Eialu's never spent any time in or around Federation personnel, and raktajino has certain added enzymes that your brew lacks-she is going to be in there for a while." He said, "I really MUST remember to warn my aides when they are tasting alien food for the first time."
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Episode 4-Pushing the Envelope

    It's just a ball of dust
    Underneath my feet
    It rolls around the sun
    Doesn't mean that much to me

    I take a chance on the edge of life
    Just like all the rest
    I look inside and dig it out
    Cause there's no points for second best

    There's a raging fire in my heart tonight
    Growing higher and higher in my soul
    There's a raging fire in the sky tonight
    I want to ride on the silver dove
    Far into the night

    Till I make you take me
    On your mighty wings
    Make you take me
    On your mighty wings across the sky
    Take me on your mighty wings
    Take me on your mighty wings tonight

    With just a little luck
    A little cold blue steel
    I cut the night like a razor blade
    Till I feel the way I want to feel

    There's a raging fire in my heart tonight
    Growing higher and higher in my soul
    There's a raging fire in the sky tonight
    I want to ride on the silver dove
    Far into the night

    Till I make you take me
    On your mighty wings
    Make you take me
    On your mighty wings across the sky
    Take me on your mighty wings
    Take me on your mighty wings tonight


    Cheap Trick- Mighty Wings



    Vancouver, 1330 hours local

    They had finally cut her loose. The talks between Admirals and Ambassadors had reached a point where everything was pretty much ironed out, despite the near meltdown of the CD agent. Missy had taken her leave at that point, the Admiral not needing her around the rest of the afternoon, besides there were people she needed to see here as well. Fortunately the parade earlier had left, she wasn't planning on getting within ten kilometers of Capitol square tomorrow if she could help it.

    "Was wondering what was taking you so long."

    That actually caused her to jump--it was a rare person who could sneak up on her. but then her father fit that description. He looked older, but then it had been over a decade since she'd seen him, his hair streaked with gray, a few new scars lining his arms. "You know how it is, Daddy, politcos gotta talk talk talk," she said as she hugged him. He was still taller than her though at least.

    "You still carry it, I see," he said with a smile, "but you don't wear the mark?" unlike her , his face was stained with something that looked like dried blood, a pattern of stripes across his face and eyes.

    "It tends to make the Federation folks uncomfortable-"

    "To hell with 'comfortable!" he growled as they walked to his ground vehicle "our very existence makes them uncomfortable. Bad enough you put up with what they made you do to join their precious Starfleet."

    It was an old argument. Ranjit Travis had opposed his eldest daughter's application to Starfleet, hell he did not even like pure humans. But after what they did to her, he had cause to anger. One of the strongest imperatives of the colonists was to survive, from the time the forty seven survivors awoke from their cold sleep two hundred years ago, until today. To give up the ability to pass on one's genes...was a waste. Still, he was proud of his daughter, despite her foolish choices.

    "So," he said as he put the car in drive, heading towards home. "When am I going to get to see this ship of yours?"

    "Oh, tomorrow after the airshow sound good to you?" she replied, watching the familiar and yet not familiar scenery go by.


    Aberdeen Centre Mall

    "What are we doing here," Rusty grumbled. It wasn't a question. It was an observation of wasted time.

    "Shopping," his brother answered. "Being tourists. Promoting good relations with the locals."

    "Look at it this way," Ennari Dai said. "At least we're indoors. Ooh! Curios!" The LaRocas followed the Trill into a shop that would not have been out-of-place in San Francisco's Chinatown, with all manner of strange things on display. Dai went straight to the collection of knives. "Is this a real kut'luch?" she asked.

    "Indeed," said the Klingon shopkeeper. "The blade was forged with the blood of a traitor. The handle is wrapped with snowsnake leather, and bound with the finest targ hair." She picked up the knife and held it out to her prospective customer. "I would not sell this to just anyone for less than twelve hundred darseks, but I can see that you are a lady of fine taste, so it is yours for a thousand."

    "Hmm. I'll have to think about that. Damned inflation - two hundred years ago I could have bought a kut'luch like this for only a hundred darseks..."

    Rusty was looking around pickled animals and parts of animals when he turned and saw a giant blob in a giant jar which occupied an entire corner of the shop. "What's that?" he asked.

    "Ice weasel ********," the shopkeeper answered. "I have the other one in the back, if you'd like to buy the set."

    "Uh, no thanks."

    "How about this?" Jesu enquired, picking up a large, sharp hook with a T-handle.

    "That is a quadraptor talon," the Klingon woman explained, taking it from him. "You grip the handle like so - it is grooved for the fingers, see? The talon protrudes out and your arm becomes one of the deadliest weapons in all of nature. Are you interested?"

    "No thanks. I already have Rusty."

    The Deinon raised his foot above the counter, and raised his inner toe from a slit in the top of his boot, exposing his 15cm curved claw, smaller than the quadraptor talon but no less lethal.

    "I see," the shopkeeper said, sounding impressed.

    "I'll give you nine hundred for this," Ennari announced, indicating the kut'luch.

    "Sold!"


    Transporter Center, 1800 hours local

    Two Starfleet operations officers stepped off the pad and were greeted by the transporter operator. "Welcome to Denali!" the furry man said. "Checking in for shore leave?"

    "That's right. Commander Fozz th'Ibear - T, H, apostrophe, capital I, bear as in the animal. And this is Lieutenant Barrister."

    The transporter officer looked back and forth between them. The tall Andorian was wearing basic cold-weather gear, not the full hooded parkas or winter coats that the other Starfleet people wore but his species had obviously adapted to a colder climate. The other one, with gray skin, was just wearing a standard Sierra-4 uniform. "I think you might need a thicker jacket, Lieutenant."

    "Why?" asked Barrister.

    "Well, it's twenty below outside."

    "Twenty below what?"

    "Below zero. Degrees. Centigrade."

    "He thinks it's too cold for you," Fozz explained to his companion.

    "Oh." Barrister looked at the local and told him. "I'm an android. I don't suffer adversely from sub-zero temperatures as organic lifeforms do. In fact, my subprocessors' operating efficiency should improve by approximately thirty-six percent compared to normal operating conditions. I plan to use this time to conduct several thought experiments and begin work on a few musical compositions while I'm here."

    "Right, uh, good luck with that."

    "Your platitude is appreciated."

    Fozz cleared his throat. "Listen, could you direct me to the ice sculpture gardens?"

    "Sure, uh, six blocks down that way, and three blocks over thataway."

    "Thank you." Fozz tugged on Barrister's sleeve. "Let's go, Ice-man. Don't get lost in thought just yet..."


    Elsewhere in Vancouver...Whiskey tach Qe' 'ej

    "Feeling better?" Koldor asked. Eialu nodded. "Here, drink this.'
    she accepted the shot glass and downed it. It burned like fire, and she felt slightly better.

    "Next time..." she said.

    "Next time you'll read the posted warnings?" he asked casually.

    "Yeah," she said. "What is this stuff?"

    "Almost pure alcohol--well, fifty percent by volume, it is the local equivalent of Whiskey." he said.

    "It's...good." she said, a feeling of well-being suffused her body, and she opened her replacement coat a bit.

    "Careful, it's potent," Koldor warned her.

    "More, it makes me feel...warm." she said. The barman shot the Ambassador a look, but Koldor just nodded, with a look of 'She's had a hard day' in his eyes.

    An EMCee stepped up onto the stage. The 'whiskey' wasn't just a Klingon bar-it was popular with a certain young, vigorous crowd...

    "Tonight, coming all the way from Alberta, (which is a hell of a walk, folks!) it's Jo'ren and the Mysterions!"

    Two Denali wearing nothing but shorts, and three Klingons in light weather clothing stepped up to the stage toting instruments. The fourth one--a long-limbed Denali augment with thinning fur and sandy hair, hopped behind the drum set.

    The Klingon--obviously "Jo'rem", stepped up to the mic.

    "Everyone is here? Ready to dance? It's cold tonight and it's gonna be a hot one tomorrow, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Jo'Rem, and folks, I gotta say, I will rock your asses off. We'r going to start the set tonight with a fun little love song, you've probably heard it on the radio, so get ready to have your HEAD EXPLODE!!!"

    Keep that thing in your pants
    You got nothing for me, no
    Your sister knows how to dance
    She might be more my speed, yeah
    She moves just like a panther baby
    I'll bet you never knew


    Eialu dropped two more shots during the first verse. She smiled, and her parka somehow ended up on the floor.
    "What's 'Tequila'?" she shouted to the bartender.

    And i say
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode all night
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode


    He poured her a shot, then another and another--she watched how it was done, took the salt and the lime (hothouse grown) and did a line.

    I am a pillar of salt
    You'll never be worse than me, no
    So get in the ****ing car
    We got us a world to bleed, yeah
    I hold all the combinations
    To give you peace of mind


    She felt great by the middle of the second verse--her boots and pants stayed on, but she was down to her under-uniform sports-bra when she jumped onto a table, and started dancing.

    And i said
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode all night
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode all night
    I got all the combinations
    You know, don't you know i'm always right
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode
    Wake up in my ear
    Your own little take on hell
    We gotta get one thing clear
    When we go to the citadel
    And i could slide right in your moment
    As long as i was in your skin


    Koldor leaned over to the bartender, "It's five degrees celsius in here, if she stops dancing now, she'll freeze...tell the band I'll pay extra if they keep playing!" he said.

    And i said
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode all night
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode all night
    I got all the combinations
    You know, don't you know i'm always right
    This is how we go about it
    To make our heads explode
    Explode
    Explode

    -Monster Magnet, "Heads Explode"






    The singer paused, and told the room..."It's not saturday yet--that's opera night, so I guess we'll have an early weekend!"

    It's getting late have you seen my mates
    Ma tell me when the boys get here
    It's seven o'clock and I want to rock
    Want to get a belly full of beer...


    -Elton John, "Saturday Night"

    "Aren't you embarassed?" the barman asked.

    Koldor shook his head, "Not in the least--she's more restrained than most Orions, and she's been bottling this up," he said, and leaned over conspiratorially. "Maybe she'll even stop being such a tight-TRIBBLE. Pour me a bloodwine!"

    In the corner, B'oDgok watched the Orion dance. It wasn't really his kind of place, he was more of an opera fan himself, but this was where he was supposed to meet K'leela. in fact, was where they met. Of course she and Missy had almost killed each other the first night. Fortunately for him they had reconciled, Having one's wife and one's commander at odds was a recipe for disaster.

    There was a low voiced growl behind him. "So, I leave you alone for a mere year and a half,and find you ogling half naked Orion women!"

    Looking over his shoulder he saw a familiar face. Red hair was rare among Klingons, but K'leeas tresses matched her temper. "if you had been on time," he replied, "then you could have gotten here before she had gotten to this stage of undress."

    She narrowed her eyes and hissed, as she struck him, drawing blood. B'o stood and snarled back as the two of them went at each other, the band continuing to play as she bit and scratched, the crowd in the bar cheering them on.

    From the bar Koldor smiled to himself. "Ah, young Klingons in love," he said, remembering his own reunions with his wife after long times apart. Still, while K'leea might be on leave, she still was an officer in the KDF, and good impressions needed to be maintained here. "Commander K'leea!" he said in his command voice, loud enough even to startle the band, the cheering spectators and the combatants into silence.

    "Sir?" she replied, blood running down her ear from where B'o bit, his own face rather scratched and bleeding as well.

    The Ambassador just smiled. "We are guests here, I believe the human expression is, 'Get a room.'"

    She just shot him a rude gesture, but laughed while doing it, as did her husband who scooped her up over his shoulder. "Up the stairs to the right," the barman said with a grin, passing over the key to a holosuite, which she held onto as B'oDgok grabbed a skin of bloodwine with his free hand, the two of them heading up the stairs.

    "A toast to the happy couple!" Koldor shouted, raising his glass, as the others did the same, the room thundering. "And next round is on me!" he continued, causing even more cheers.




    USS Tiburon, transporter room 2 - 1033 hours Standard Time (2106 hours local)

    "Oh my gawd that feels good," Rusty declared, as he stepped off the transporter pad and unzipped his parka. "You feel that? That's what twenty-three degrees celsius feels like."

    "Yeah, feels good," his brother agreed.

    "I understand why Williams was so mental," Rusty went on. "If I'd been freezing my tail off down there for as long as she's been here, I'd be out of my mind too." He removed the heavy coat and stretched his neck. "Whaddaya say we get out of these polar suits and find an empty holodeck and turn it into a sauna?"

    "Sounds good to me!" Ennari Dai exclaimed.

    "You go ahead," Jesu told them. "I gotta find Hunter and go over the flightplan for tomorrow, and probably do a couple of simulator runs."

    Rusty nodded. "Okay, but don't stay up all night - day - whatever."


    Claws of the Emperor...

    They began slowly-a requirement, given the proximity to inhabited areas, and lifted off in formation from the airfield, rising vertically on repulsors facing nose-to-nose in a circle so close that the wings overlapped...to a distance of 500 meters-high enough everyone on the ground would be relatively safe from the circle of engine exhaust.

    It was a signature trick, one meant for unaided viewing by crowds on worlds too poor for holovid coverage, but impressive nonetheless.

    At 500 meters, they stopped, and went to full afterburner-crossing one another's path and creating the spokes of a burning plasma wheel-made more spectacular here, because the cold air was denser, with a higher resulting oxygen content.

    The spokes extended nearly a kilometer in each of the six cardinal directions, then the fighters banked left-drawing a nearly perfect 'wagon wheel' before nosing up into a hard vertical ascent.

    And that's when the show Really started.

    The pilots played 'Tag' through rolls and loops, coordinated falling-flat-spins and 'tumbles' that ended at heart-stopping distances from the ground, only to be recovered from at transsonic speeds so close that roostertails of snow erupted in their wakes.

    It wasn't just skill--it was raw daring--going from less than 30 KPH to Mach 2 then back down again, they spread out and flew beyond visual range for several seconds, only to converge over a barren hill too steep to build on and paid-for-in-advance by the Ambassador some months before the show... in sight of the audience, where they demonstrated their gunnery and piloting skills by blasing a glowing, temporary image of Denali's national flag in the hillside. Beside it, they blasted a Klingon Trifoil, and on the other side, a less-well-rendered image of the crest of the Federation's Colonial Development Authority.

    With this laid out, two fighters broke away from the rest, and began to circle, the other four, then engaged in a mock dog-fight incorporating a number of dangerous rolls and often nearly running into, or nearly hitting, their comrades in the middle. during the course of this, the "Klingon" fighters blasted away the carved image of ColDev's influence, and the two in the middle joined the two 'red team' fighters while the two 'blue team' fighters executed a 'falling leaves on fire' manuever dumping burning plasma and tumbling down, down..down...to release and detonate fireworks for the crowd-before returning the formation and RTB.

    None of it was superhuman flying, but it was all VERY complex flying-and the mock-battle was clearly intended as propoganda-but it was, in spite of that, quite entertaining.


    Starfish flight, 13000m over Vancouver - 1228 local

    "Those guys are good," Lt. Liow'an remarked. "The gee-load from some of those maneuvers must've been brutal.

    "They a roight tough act t' follah, that's f' shore," said Bonzer McGee, Admiral LaRoca's Fizzo for the day. The FSO or Flight Systems Officer is responsible for handling everything on the Pergrine fighter not related to piloting or firing the weapons. The Australian-born chief warrant was normally assigned to Pajarito 5, But LaRoca liked Bonzer's affable personality and selected him to share his cockpit.

    "We'll just have to show 'em what we can do when we add technology to skill," the Admiral told the rest of flight team.

    Starfish 2 was being flown by Hacksaw, with Barrister in the right seat. Barrister would act as a back-up navigator for the internal systems on all five fighters, and help keep the flight synchronized.

    Starfish 3, aka Pescadito 1 was under command of LCdr. Hunter Blake, whose father - like LaRoca's - had served on the Tiburon during the Dominion War. His Fizzo was a talented young Caitian electronic warfare expert named M'shteek, or "Mystique" as her squadmates called her.

    Lt. Liow'an was the Pescaditos squadron XO and pilot-in-command of Starfish 4. He and his Fizzo Slilep ch'Snenav had flown together for longer than anyone else in the demonstration flight.

    Finally, Starfish 5 was under the control of the unlikely pairing of Lt. jg. Hssell - a Gorn who just barely fit in the cockpit - and warrant officer Mikaela Osborne - a petite Human woman.

    "Stafish flight, this is Vancouver Aerodrome Control, you are clear to enter the restricted airspace zone. Minimum ceiling is one hundred meters above the deck, acknowledge, over."

    "Copy that, control," McGee replied. "Keepin' above angels point one, ovah."

    LaRoca grinned. "Alright people, here we go." The five fighters lined up, wingtip-to-wingtip, and dove vertically toward the city at minimum thrust, letting gravity accelerate them. Then the formation curled, As LaRoca banked down to the left, followed by the others, until Starfish 1's left wingtip was a meter off the right wingtip of Starfish 5. Unable to see each other, the pilots relied on their instruments to maintain the Golden Ring formation as they descended through the clouds.


    Capitol Plaza

    Watching on old LED jumbotron monitors, the crowd Oooohed at the precision piloting required to hold the blind formation.

    Marq and Fozz looked at each other and shared a smile, knowing that the show hadn't even begun yet.


    Six Years Ago...

    Hacksaw,
    Archangel 3, Sherman's Planet Battlespace - Stardate 82630.75 (D-Day +2)

    "Archangel Flight, this is the USS Bismarck - Assault Company Zulu reports concentrated enemy resistance in grid November-seven/Yankee-two, requesting CAS, over."

    "Copy that, Bismarck," LCdr. Jesu LaRoca replied from the lead fighter. "Switching to FAC Tac channel. You heard 'em, Hacksaw. Let's burn atmo."

    "Right behind you, Skipper," Lt. Miller replied, as he rolled into follow his friend to the deck...


    Airshow

    "Approaching pull-out point," Barrister warned.

    Hank Miller shook the flashback out of his mind and concentrated on the holographic gates displayed on his HUD. He tightened his grip on the sidestick controller in his right hand and the throttle lever in his left, hit the button to deploy non-toxic colored "smoke" and accelerated through a +23 gee pullout.

    The other fighters matched his maneuver, centered directly over the Capitol building and dispersing with a perfect 72-degree vector separation. He and Admiral LaRoca were heading up range, behind the Capitol, while the three pilots from the Pescaditos were off down range over the crowd. Those three rejoined and turned back toward the plaza, while Starfish 1 and 2 circled around to face each other from opposite sides of downtown Vancouver.

    "Okay, Hacksaw, here we go," the Admiral radioed. "Opposing solos, Knife-Edge Pass."

    "Try not to scratch the paint," Miller joked, as his mind wandered six years into the past...


    Grid N-7/Y-2

    "I repeat, the enemy has us surrounded!" Zulu Company's forward air controller screamed. "Where the **** is my air support!?"

    "Here it comes, Zulu," Jesu replied. "Three, got the target? I can't see jack through this weather."

    "I've got over a thousand Klingon lifesigns, with a few hundred Gorn" Reg Stamper, Hacksaw's Fizzo reported. "Only sporadic weapons fire, though, and
    phasers, not disruptors... no comms, minimal tech readings... half of them are running away from the fight..."

    "The hell? Clay, gimme the pop map overlay," LaRoca ordered his FSO. "Ay, chingame, We're right over Ka'Hat! Zulu CAP! Disengage! You are attacking civilians!"

    "Civilians, hell, they ****ing killed Jonas with a TRIBBLE bat'leth-"

    "LOOK AROUND YOU, PENDEJO!! You're attacking a Klingon village!"

    "Bull****! A Klingon village on a Federation planet!?"

    "Border planet, maricon and the Klingons were our allies a year ago! You're assaulting a civilian settlement! Fall the hell back!"

    "Negative! The enemy has us surrounded! Civilian or not, get them off our backs!"

    "Que chingadera!" LaRoca moaned.

    "What are we gonna do, sir?" Miller wondered.


    Airshow

    "You're drifting off-course, sir," Barrister warned.

    Miller blinked, and smoothly adjusted his turn to line up in the center of the gates.

    The crowd was watching the trident formation that was tearing up Main Street at an altitude of 1,000m. The formation suddenly split, and Hunter dipped down while Liow'an and Hssell angled slightly up. Hssell rolled his fighter over and slipped under Liow'an's with about ten meters separating them. When they directly over the Plaza, they began to make an inverted loop. For Liow'an and Slilep, it was a negative-gee pushover outside loop. Hunter, meanwhile, pulled a vertical loop while simultaneously making a box-roll, snapping his wings ninety degrees at each quarter of the loop. He met the other two head-on over the Capitol steps and slipped in between his wingmates with only a few meters to spare.

    As Hunter reached the top of his loop and the other Pescaditos reached the bottom of theirs, LaRoca and Miller met for their knife edge pass. Flying straight at each other, they each rolled away ninety degrees at the last instant. Hacksaw's airframe hummed as the structural integrity fields skimmed each other, and bounced through Starfish 1's turbulent wake before inertial dampeners compensated.

    The crowd burst into wild applause as Starfish 3 scythed through the others again, and they all broke off and formed up with the leader heading north.

    "That was cool!" Ens. M'shteek exclaimed over the team channel. "Scary as hell, but wicked-cool!"

    Miller grinned at the young Fizzo's exuberance as he lined up half a klick behind LaRoca and they circled back toward the Plaza...


    Ka'Hat

    "Sir?" Miller called again. "What the **** are we gonna do?"

    "You're gonna do nothing," LaRoca answered. "I'm overriding the IFF on my cluster bombs, setting them for minimum yield and a fifty-meter airburst. That should just stun those idiotas down there. Should." He hesitated for a moment. "Clay, I can't ask you to-"

    "Done," LaRoca's FSO annnounced. "Target profile copied to the drone."

    "Hacksaw?"

    "I'm with you, sir," Miller replied as he keyed the commands into his WeapSys display. "How about it, Stamps?"

    "Firing on Starfleet personnel? Forget it, sir!"

    "But
    they're firing on Federation citizens!"

    "Which is why I'm not sending the other drone off to bomb the Klinks," Miller's FSO told him. "Sorry, I'm sitting this one out."

    "Drop point coming up in five," LaRoca called out. "Four... three... two... one..."


    Airshow

    "Roll-in point coming up in five," Barrister announced, bringing Hacksaw back to the present. "Four... three... two... one..."

    "Now," Miller said, as he rolled the fighter to the left and followed the Admiral in a ring above the Plaza. The ring closed when Hssell entered the turn, five hundred meters ahead of Starfish 1.

    "Okay, team," LaRoca radioed. "Let's push up the daisies!"

    The Starfish each rolled out one hundred and eighty degrees and pulled through a horizontal loop, trailing smoke the whole way. To the amazed crowd watching from the Plaza, they appeared to trace the outline of a giant flower. Starfish flight came back together over the center of the plaza and entered a tight, spiralling climb, formed up in the Inner Circle formation, with their cockpit canopies nearly touching, accelerating to maximum thrust as they approached the cloud layer.

    "This is it!" LaRoca announced. "Crossover in ten seconds. Open plasma coolant interlocks on my mark, and get ready to blow some people's minds!"


    Starfleet Command HQ, San Francisco - Stardate 82721.47

    Hank Miller slumped in his chair, stunned by the court-martial's pronouncement of "Guilty."

    "However," the JAG intoned. "Due to the circumstances surrounding this event, and the defense's compelling argument that firing on Starfleet personnel represented the lesser of two evils, I shall withhold the sentence usually reserved for manslaughter. Instead, I hereby order Lieutenant Commander Jesus L. LaRoca and Lieutenant Henry A. Miller to be reduced in rank to Ensign and to be restricted from flight duty. Grounded, as you could say. Furthermore I order a mark of censure to be entered into the files of all three defendants. Due to the sensitive nature of this case, the specific records concerning these events shall be sealed and classified Delta-Top Secret. Dismissed."

    Jesu LaRoca and Clay Blackmore silently rose from their seats.

    "So that's it?" Miller demanded. "You're gonna bust us down to reject-grade and yank our wings, and file the whole damned affair under 'this never happened'?"

    "That will be all, Ensign Miller," one of the Admirals at the big table said.

    "NO, that will NOT be all!" Miller stood. "We saved over a thousand innocent people, and you're taking us to the curb for it!?"

    "We killed people, Hacksaw," Jesu said softly. "We killed our own people."

    "They ****ing deserved it!"

    "Security, please remove this man," the Admiral ordered.

    "**** all of you!!" Miller yelled. "If that's how you thank your heroes, I'm through!" He yanked off his Starfleet combadge and threw it at the Admiral's head. "Consider this my official letter of resignation!" He gave the admirals the finger, spun on his heel, and stomped out of the chamber. He walked out of Starfleet Command, and never looked back...


    Vancouver

    The stunned crowd suddenly erupted into cheers for the perfectly-executed Kolvoord Starburst.

    "I honestly wasn't expecting that!" Fozz said.

    "Well, you know the Admiral," Marq replied. "Over-the-top is just barely enough for him."

    "So, Captain Travis is up next, right?"

    "Yeah, she'll be joining up with the Admiral's squad to make a flyby in a runabout or something."

    "I wonder how she plans to top that," Fozz remarked, pointing to the still-glowing plasma trails.


    USS Nighthawk, aft shuttle bay

    They were on the dark side of the planet. Everything was set, people were strapped in, and her chief engineer was complaining. Well her temporary chief, Lt. Rin was in charge while B'oDgok was on leave, while he was highly skilled, the Ferengi was still young enough to be nervous. "It's set, Captain," he said over the comm. "But I still think the Chief wouldn't go for this."

    From the helm Missy toggled her com "This is why he isn't here. And besides, its just a modified ELA. I've flown that thirty-two times."

    "Simulated or actual?" came the response.

    "Well..thirty simulated...but the profile is good, and we've got Dr. Schrodinger's settings she sent us."

    Shaking his head, Rin sighed "That's the only reason I'm going along with this. Ready when you are, Captain."

    Configuring the shields for atmospheric interface, she began her approach.


    Starfish Flight

    They had formed up again, in echelon, with Admiral LaRoca leading the way. Hank Miller felt ill, nausea triggered by memories, not maneuvers.

    "Are you alright sir?" Barrister queried. "You appear to be perspiring an inordinate amount, given the atmospheric conditions."

    "I'm fine."

    "Where the hell is she?" LaRoca wondered aloud. The formation was approaching the Capitol from the east, and Missy's runabout was nowhere to be seen. "She's gonna miss the rendezvous if she doesn't drop out of orbit in the next couple of-" His proximity warning went off, alerting him to something coming up from behind, VERY big and VERY fast. He looked up and saw the clouds glowing - something was coming down and it was much more massive than a runabout. "No ****ing way," Jesu muttered...


    Airshow

    The announcer had just finished giving a description of the Federation pilots' last maneuver, the crowd still cheering and hollering, even a few of the KDF pilots also seemed half impressed. He picked up the microphone again as he checked the time, should be the next one any second now "And now ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your left over Mount Baughman, commanded by a graduate of the Vancouver Technical University and currently commanding the USS Nighthawk, Captain...holy ****!!!"

    The crowd turned as one as the clouds above the mountain top parted, all 685 meters and 3.2 million metric tons of the USS Nighthawk cleared the mountain with barely a hundred meters to spare before dropping down the sloping face into the valley. It looked like it was hardly moving even though it was going over 400 kilometers per hour, every light on the ship on, anticollison lights reflecting off of the snowfield.


    USS Nighthawk

    Missy was at the helm, flying it manually being the computer protested too much. "Mr Rin!" she shouted into the com. "Hoist the colors!"

    In the aft shuttle bay Rin made sure his harness was tight as the hangar deck opened...the ground looked awfully close from up here. Pulling on a lever he had recently installed, a pole shot out from the fantail at a 45 degree angle, a ten by thirty meter red and black Colonial flag streaming in the breeze as Missy banked the big cruiser over the suburbs to line up in formation behind LaRoca's fighters.

    Rather than leading Missy on her flyover up Main Street, the comparatively miniscule Peregrines appeared to flee from the massive Nighthawk as the ship swooped overhead, thunderous in its passing, blotting out the sun with the shadow of its vast hull. The bow pitched upwards and the great ship slowed, coming to a stop in midair, less than a hundred meters directly above the Capitol building.

    Rin checked the panel he had set up next to him in the hangar bay. "We can do this for another 45 seconds Sir, then we'll start to have heat problems!"

    "Noted" she muttered as she carefully brought the ship around in a slow 360 on maneuvering thrusters, sweating heavily even though the bridge was at a cool temperature for her. To their credit, the shocked pilots of Starfish flight played along, orbiting the huge ship as she made her topspin. As the ship slowly came to it's original heading, on a whim she contacted the departure frequency. "Tower this is USS Nighthawk, requesting departure clearance," she said, knowing it would be picked up by hundreds of people on the ground listening in.

    "Uh...r...roger," came the reply. "You're cleared to orbit, Nightawk."

    Laughing, she increased power, the ship began to move slowly and climb, then when the instruments showed 5000 meters, (and the hangar deck was sealed) she cut in the impulse engines. The cruiser climbed for space like a homesick angel, going supermach by 10000 meters, the shockwave sending clouds spreading in a ring around the ships path..

    On the ground there was momentary silence, then the crowd erupted, over half a million voices cheering, drowned out only momentarily as the sonic boom rumbled over the valley.


    On the ground, directly under the Nighthawk's flight path...

    "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Lt. Colonel Eialu Masaana, KDF, whooped as the huge vessel slammed overhead--the fighter show had been 'good' but this...this was SEX.
    "THAT WAS AWESOME!!! YEEEEAAAAHHHH!!!!" she pumped her fist as the shockwaves shook everyone right down to their bones.

    She was, of course, half drunk--she'd cut a cup of cocoa with 'whiskey' to help endure the cold.

    Koldor applauded mildly--he was deeply impressed, but it was, after all, not really in the interest of the Empire to express more than a mild approval--besides, it turns out I have an Aide to do that for me...


    Starfish flight

    Jesu LaRoca was laughing. He'd been laughing his head off ever since the Nighthawk broke through the clouds, and kept laughing long after she returned to orbit.

    "You're gonna court martial her for that, right, skipper?" Hacksaw demanded.

    "Depends," the Admiral replied, wiping tears from his eyes.

    "Depends on what?"

    "On how the people down there vote after seeing that show!"



    Vancover, 1430 hours local time

    The airshow was a huge success, even the KDF contingent were still talking about it. People had wandered to other things though now that the flight displays were over, there were static displays, vendors, local crafts and food-generally the atmosphere was similar to an old-time county fair. Several of the junior officers from both of the Federation ships had come down to take advantage of shore leave, chilly or not.

    "oh, this jackets nice!" one young Ensign said as she looked over some of the vendors. Trying it on she squealed "it's warm too, what pattern did you use to make it?"

    The merchant looked confused "what do you mean, it's just a standard parka cut."

    "no, I mean what pattern did you use in the replicator to get this fur feeling so..real?"

    The girl behind the counter chuckled "it is real Miss, genuine worg fur."

    Her companion half looked horrified, as if he was going to be sick, while the Ensign just blinked. "It is a real animal?"

    "Well, it was a real animal. It's not like it's needing it anymore, now is it?"

    Overhearing the shoppers, Fozz just chuckled softly "Ensigns. They get younger every year..and more sheltered."

    The half klingon XO just laughed in agreement-which was cut off as sirens started to fill the air. The locals however did not seem to panic, instead calmly opening awnings that were set up over most booths, and the crowd dispersing under this cover so that they were out of sight from the air of..something. Most of the visitors did as well, urged by the actions of the others, with two exceptions..

    "You fools! Get out of the road!" One of the Denali shouted at the two slightly drunk Nausicaans. The mercenaries just laughed in contempt. "They should join the federation, they seem to like cowering from noth-hurrrrk!"

    From where Fozz and Marq were standing under cover, they could see it--looking like a nightmare cross between a dragonfly and a very large, six-limbed lizard-thing...almost like Rusty--if he had been the size of a shuttlecraft. One of the Nausicaans was mostly missing, a swipe from the beast's jaws severing everything above the knees, while the claws impaled the other. With a thundering flap of it's four wings it jumped into the air, taking it's prey with it, leaving the bloody stumps of the Nausicaan legs behind.

    "What the hell was that?" Fozz said as he watched the thing fly off.

    The merchant just shook her head sadly, as what sounded like anti-aircraft disruptor fire went off in the distance. "Quad Raptor," she said. "They usually aren't a problem, but the airshow probably stirred this one up. We don't tend to shoot them down until they're not over the city."

    As another tone sounded, this was probably the all clear. People wandered back out of cover as the merchants rolled up the awnings. A small Denali child, probably about eight years old or so looked at the bloody boots in the middle of the street. "Dumbasses," she said as she walked off with her parents.
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Episode V- Relevation

    "The truth is rarely pure, and never simple" Oscar Wilde


    USS Tiburon

    Another morning, another briefing. The senior officers were assembled, the menu this morning was a mixed bag, omelets, bacon, belgian waffles and coffee. Plenty of coffee though, with the ships schedule off sync with the planet's.

    The Admiral was there already, with a rather large cup of java himself. "Morning, Bro," Rusty said as he entered the room, snagging a plate and a stack of bacon. "Looks like you didn't get much sleep last night?"

    "Not as much as some," Jesu replied with a grin. "Some of the Home Guard pilots invited us to dinner and drinks at one of their favorite hangouts--when the Claws of the Empire walked in."

    "Uh oh," Rusty said, looking concerned. "Anyone get hurt?"

    "Naw, not from fights anyway. They were looking for whoever piloted the Nighthawk. Travis stood up and said she did...the lead for the Claws walked up, and announced that anyone both good and insane enough to make a ship that big dance like that, wasn't going to pay for their own drinks."

    Miller laughed over his coffee. "I'm almost sad I left early," he chuckled. "So how long did you last?"

    "Until everyone was suitably buzzed, and the Karaoke machine came out...you know, there are times that I agree that some things from Earth's culture should have 'remained' lost...trust me , you do not want to hear drunken Ferasan fighter pilots singing old Righteous Brothers songs..."

    "Oh...that song..." Hacksaw shuddered. "What is it about pilots that keeps that damn thing hanging around?"

    "Hell if I know. Anyway, I got drank myself unconscious pretty quick once that started so? yeah. Are we all here?" He said as he stood up, getting another breakfast taco.

    "Almost all," Rusty said, glancing around. "Travis not joining us?"

    "She probably has a hell of a hangover herself, plus she has some family business and voting to take care of this morning," he said. "Never thought chocolate milk could have that kind of an effect but eh. Anyway, Maria, would you go first?"

    Dr Espinoza nodded. "Yesterday before the airshow, Yoann, Ensign Turner, and I paid a visit to the largest hospital in the city. It was...interesting."

    "Interesting in a good way?"

    She pulled up an image on the screen. "Their genetic technology is possibly more advanced than ours is. Not only can they modify themselves to handle the extremes of climate..." she said as she pulled up an image of a small human child on the screen. "They offered to do a fetal genetic scan of Ensign Turner's unborn child--this is their projection of how she will look at age two."

    "They can project that far out?"

    "Further--they also identified that she will be left handed, green eyed, and would have eventually developed Irumodic syndrome."

    "Would have?" Jesu said, with a raised eyebrow.

    "I saw the marker myself--fifteen, twenty years before her synaptic pathways would have deteriorated. Until she died."

    "I thought that was incurable if it developed? And there was no way to stop it?"

    Maria just raised her chin, knowing the firestorm this might create. "Dr. Danielyan from the Vancouver Genetics institute said they could fix that, Ensign Turner was willing for them to do it, and as her physician I advised her to go ahead with it."

    Jesu sighed and just shook his head. "You know they're going to go ballistic over this when we get back. Was that the only thing that they changed?"

    "They also tweaked a protein that increases the tendency for obesity."

    There was a laugh from across the table. "Hell, just tell the Federation council about that one... they'll be falling over themselves to get that allowed," Miller said as Jesu shot him a look

    "It's still genetic engineering, which is illegal in the Federation."

    Maria shook her head. "Not completely true Admiral, we do allow similar repairs of damaged genes--this is just on a level that as of now, we are unable to do ourselves."

    "Right...well I see why it was done, and honestly I trust your judgement in this. I knew someone with Irumodic Syndrome...that's nothing anyone should have to go through." He looked at the chronometer, set to local time. "Well, there's not much else to talk about. We're just along for the ride, today, and it seems the 'fun' part is about to start in an hour or so."

    "Better you than me," Hank Miller deadpanned. "I always hated wearing dress whites--they tend to attract every stain in the vicinity as soon as you put them on." There was general laughter and agreement from the others.

    "Are we expected to give a speech or something?" Ennari wondered.

    "Fortunately, no. Just smile and wave at floats as they go by with the other 'vips'. I think Ambassador Koldor will be there as well. Everyone is welcome to attend as well.." he said

    "Meaning you want us around to try to get a feel for how the mood is going," Marq replied.

    "Exactly. This could go either way, frankly, and if it goes the wrong way...well, Paris will not be happy?"



    Fifteen miles outside of Vancouver, sunrise

    Some considered this sacred ground. She didn't feel that way, yeah it was a special place, but Missy had never really been religious. Still, it made her father happy for her to be here as the sun climbed over the peaks, and in the end, that's what was really important.

    She was out of uniform, well technically she wasn't wearing much of anything..and itched like crazy. The genetic tweak that let her people grow fur to keep warm enabled her to go from looking almost human to fuzzy in a couple hours. the downside was ravenous hunger...and the itching, oh God the itching.

    Still she put up with it, it was important both for the ceremony, and so she wouldn't freeze in the -20 degree temperatures, and she could always kill something on the way back to town if she got hungry enough. There were others here, her Uncle, younger sister, and of course the handful of others who carried the same blade she did. There were less than two dozen of them in existence actually. They all had the same markings across the face that her father had--that she was here to get as well. She technically had earned hers before her sixteenth birthday. Her life 'ended' when she dove back into
    the water to rescue her classmates after the maglev derailed, and yet survived certain death.

    Oh, a lot of it she didn't really believe, like how those who were not 'worthy' could not wield her weapon, similar to some of the Klingon myths. But even still, the ritual was comforting, in reminding her she was not the only one.

    She had heard the rest so many times, she did not even need prompting, holding her hand over a bowl as she gripped the tip of the blade, the blood dripping down her hand into it, reciting the oath of Aiman Singh, one of the original colonists, and the first Hunter.

    "I am a shikaari.
    I walk in the dark places that none will enter.
    I stand between the wild and civilization.
    I do not seek war, glory or conquest--our duty is to defend.
    This is the pact.
    But should life be taken in naught--then the pact is,
    To avenge."

    "To Avenge" the others echoed her. She released the blade as she dipped the fingertips of both hands into the blood in the bowl. Closing her eyes, she drew four lines across her face, her blood combined with the slightly caustic chemical in the bowl would make a permanent mark. At least the burning wasn't as bad as the itching was.

    Once she had finished she opened her eyes, her father beaming proudly. "Rise, Shikaari, and join your brethren."

    She smiled and got to her feet. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, of course the fun part would be explaining the marks to her CMO, Commander Selvok, when she got back to the ship...


    KDF quarters,Vancouver Aerodrome, 0600 hours...

    There is a universally renowned hangover cure, somewhere in the universe, a concoction that will leave you restored and invigorated and entirely purged of the aftermath of drinking more than too much.

    Of course, nobody has it. The closest thing to 'fast dry-out' out there, is to take your hungover troop, and run them until they puke, then make them drink water and run some more.

    On Earth, NCO's developed this as "Saturday morning PT", but it has gone by many names in many cultures--virtually any civilization that has had both organized conflict, and the development of Alcohol has at least one variation on this theme. Presently, Ambassador Koldor was re-introducing this fine tradition to Lt.Colonel Eialu Masaana, in the predawn cold of the airfield's fenced-off guest area.The Klingon variant involves alternating hundred meter sprints interleaved with Bat'leth sparring, and the subject doesn't get to stop until they win a bout.

    So far, Eialu Masaana was picking up dozens of bruises--both from slipping on the ice, and from practice blows.

    "Sargeant, Give her water." he ordered. Eialu regarded the canteen with a mixture of nausea and exhaustion, but she drank.

    "Begin again." the big Klingon instructed. Eialu's opponent was "PIlot Three"--a Ferasan whom had also consumed entirely too much alcohol trying to match drinks with members of the Nighthawk's crew.

    Pilot Three hadn't been drinking over the last few days, however, so his drunk was burning off faster and with less pain than the Orion's--she had been, effectively, maintaining at least a 'buzz' since the conference--in part to feel 'warm' in Denali's chill air.

    She was sober now, but she'd been losing bouts for two hours. The water was laced with minerals and electrolytic solutions to replace what had been stripped by her drinking, and by the intensity of the physical activity.

    Somehow, this time, she managed to trip the Ferasan pilot, taking him from his feet and laying the tip of her blade against his neck "TCHA!!"

    "Finally...Okay, Lieutenant Colonel, one more run and hit the showers," Koldor said, shaking his head. "Three, you're up against K'Tracht...let's get this done by zero-seven."

    In the barracks, Eialu washed away the foulness that her two hour session of misery had bled from her tissues, letting the hot water strip it away. Times like this, she sometimes imagined things.

    "Well, you haven't completely humiliated the family yet." she imagined her aunt Damojena saying, "Almost, but at least you kept your legs closed."
    she grabbed the scrubbie, and worked at her bruised arms.
    "But you had to go and get hammered--then stay that way...stupid. every one of those bruises you earned by being dumb." She imagined her Aunt, who went by the name 'D'Moj' and was becoming a notable warrior for the KDF--and setting a precedent that Eialu wanted to follow...
    "Weak, Niece-weakest link, you keep up the stupidity and you'll break like cheap glass--it's cold out there, but you don't have to be a whiny ***** about it." her Aunt's voice growled.

    "I'm not a whiny *****," Eialu muttered.

    "Then you're weak because you're disappointed and you lost your dream position, and you've been staying drunk and acting like a P'taq because you're too weak to own up to what you've been given. You're either a weakling for hiding from the cold, or you're a weakling because you can't handle your job," D'Moj's voice was only in her head--but it was like a whip that cut her and made it hurt more.

    "I'm not a weakling," Eialu muttered.

    "Prove it, then, handle the rest of the day without getting drunk, or stoned, without being an idiot or an embarrassment. Prove you're tough enough, strong enough, brave enough...if you don't, you'll NEVER measure up and you might as well go back to mommy's slave-trading ship." In her mind, her aunt sneered. "Prove you're more than what they made you."


    Vancouver, parade route

    At least the dress whites are warm, Jesu thought as he sat with the other dignitaries in the reviewing stand. That and the built in heaters as well helped a lot, he was almost toasty. On the whole, he was more comfortable here, where his dress uniform kept the chill at bay, than he was the last time he wore it on say Vulcan? Or at La Paz? The parade was entertaining as well, a lot of the floats and displays done by children, and of course the inevitable marching bands, something else that seemed to spread everywhere from Earth. At least they did not have the fixation with tubas that Tellarites did? that particular parade was one that he did not care to remember.

    There was something that wasn't there the day before across the plaza from the capitol as well, it was covered, probably a statue or something that would be unveiled later in the afternoon. The parade was winding down, while it had been entertaining they do tend to get well, boring after a while, though it seemed that this was wrapping up before it got to that point.

    As the stands emptied he made his way down with Ennari and spotted Rusty and Marq in the crowd ahead, waiting for them. Marq seemed to be enjoying himself a lot more than the Deinon was. The group fell in and followed him in getting off the street and into one of the storefronts, where it was at least not too freezing.

    "That was pretty interesting," Marq said with a grin. "I never thought I'd see a high school marching band performing classic Klingon Opera."

    "If we're lucky, we never will again. At least there weren't two hundred and fifty tubas," Rusty muttered.

    "I've seen a lot of these," Ennari said with a laugh. "Trust me, it was nowhere near as painful as most." She checked the time. "So how long till we know how things turned out?"

    "Supposedly, most of the voting was done this morning," Marq replied. "I took a stroll through the Klingon areas earlier." He wasn't in uniform, dressed casually in warm civilian clothes "Something odd, though, that I picked up when talking to people there."

    "What was that?" Jesu wondered.

    "Almost everyone I spoke with...said they were going to vote for the colony to keep trying to join the Federation."

    "Wait," said Rusty. "This was Klingons?"

    "Yes. and also curious...there was talk of a meeting late last evening, between some of the local leaders and Ambassador Koldor."

    Rusty just shook his head. "Now that just doesn't make sense--the local Klingons seem pretty darn patriotic towards the Empire from what i've seen.."

    "Unless?" Jesu thought, frowning. "He knows that if the colony was to join the Empire...well there are some back on Earth that might see that as an excuse to put this world to the top of a targeting list..."

    "As if there's the resources..." Marq just shook his head. "Yesterday Fozz and I paid a visit to the local Home Guard base. We got the whole tour, watched some of their training, the whole targ and pony show."

    "How are they?" Rusty asked.

    "Damn good. We were briefed by a Sgt Major Kincaid, from Delta troop, 12th brigade. His unit is going to be assigned to this pirate hunt we're going to be going on...to be honest, I wouldn't want to be on the other side of these guys. Of course I also wouldn't want to see how they'd handle someplace with a climate like Vulcan," he said with a chuckle.

    "Same name as the Governor-general, related perhaps?"

    "I asked about that. Told me that there was only a few dozen colonists that survived the ship crash landing, so technically, everyone's related. But there's only a handful of family names."

    "So it's kind of like Smith and Garcia," Jesu shrugged. "Well, we've got a couple hours till the results are announced, and one of the pilots last night told me about this little place that supposedly makes the best chili in a hundred light years."

    "That would be easy, there's nothing else out here for twice that distance." Rusty smiled. "As long as its heated?. Lead on, and you're buying, bro. You've got the big 'Admiral's expense account' after all."


    Capitol Square, Vancouver. 1600 local time

    The results were in, but not announced. People had been filing into the plaza for the past half hour or so to take their seats. The Klingon representatives were seated to one side of where the Governor-General would be, with Admiral LaRoca and his group on the other.

    Eialu bundled up in local style--a fur cloak and parka that, nevertheless, matched with her KDF winter-field-gear uniform. "So, Sir, how do you think the voting went?" she asked Koldor quietly.

    "I believe they will continue to apply to the Federation, and continue to be denied," he said. "This will persist for the next twenty years, until they finally realize that the Empire has more to offer them--with fewer irrational judgements," Koldor stated. "I count on bigots like Ms. Wilson to do much of the work for me?which in turn gives me time to...correct...some inequalities on our side and invest in expansion of the local sector, so that by the time Denali has had enough...we will be ready to receive them as a Tributary state."

    "So...you don't think the Moab precedent will matter, then?" she asked.

    "Not so much," Koldor said calmly. "The Moabites were halfway ready to revolt before the Federation passed the arms laws, and Federation interference there was much more...aggressive, including stripping industries and actively trying to relocate them to the interior--Denali has been blessed with distance both in terms of stellargraphic travel, and lack of interference--they will take longer to tire of meddling from Earth."


    It was just windy enough and the murmur from the crowd loud enough that even Rusty couldn't hear what the Ambassador was discussing with his aide. Jesu nodded pleasantly over towards them though as he took his seat, really glad of the heating units built into his uniform now that the sun had started to dip lower in the sky.

    The crowd quieted as the Governor stepped out, large screens behind the podium giving a close up view for the massed crowd. As the cameras began to roll, she stepped to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, please rise for our National Anthem."

    ( Yana Mangi Free )

    Interesting choice? Admiral LaRoca thought.

    "Thank you, please be seated. We have the final results of the referendum," Both the Klingon and Federation representatives looked towards her. "With six percent of the vote, 'I like Pie.'" There was laughter and some shaking of heads by the crowd and some on the podium as well. "Really, you could have at least said what kind of pie," she said with a grin. "Next, the proposal to formally seek membership as a Tributary of the Klingon Empire, 44 percent. And to continue to apply for Federation membership as is our right as a colony from Earth," she said. "47 percent."

    Jesu relaxed, but not by much. That was closer than he would have liked? no doubt Colonial Development's inaction had nearly lost another world. He made himself a mental note to make sure to let those in charge know just how badly CD was doing.

    "Closer than I expected," Koldor said, directing the remark at LaRoca. "I expected over fifty percent in favour of the Federation."

    "So did I before I got here, and ran into Ms. Williams," Jesu said with a shrug. "There are times that I wish we could handle idiots like that the way the Empire does?"

    Koldor chuckled. "You mean, send them to Rura Penthe as administrators, or dump them on backwaters? We only get to execute them when they visibly TRIBBLE up--people like Williams always seem to slip through the cracks until they've done REAL damage."

    "I would say that not letting us know about the piracy problem because it was 'only Klingon ships' is real damage. But it would be nice if she could spend the rest of her career counting rocks in Vulcan's Forge. At least there she wouldn't whine about the cold."

    Koldor shrugged. "I actually factored someone like Williams into my calculations," he said. "Which is why I was so surprised at how close the vote was." He nodded to the crowd. "Homeworld ties are deep things, so are ties of blood, and Denali is predominantly human with a Klingon minority that has grown close to the majority both socially and culturally--the Federation also demonstrated quite a showing yesterday..."

    "Flashy shows don't compensate for years of neglect sometimes, or 'idiots' sent to represent the homeworld...who look down on the colonists," LaRoca said.

    As the two representatives discussed the election quietly, the Governor-General was wrapping up the rest of the results-bond issues for a new mag-lev line and other local matters. As she finished, she put down the padd with the results, looking out over the crowd. "Two hundred years ago, our ancestors arrived here--not where they wanted, or ever expected to be. The three ships, which launched from Earth in the fall of 1996. The Port Arthur, the Richmond, and the Botany Bay."

    She stood tall, staring into the cameras and at the crowd. "The Exodus from earth, has been misunderstood for years. It began as a dream, that we might find life, might find peace that was denied us on Earth. For those on the ships, were not monsters, as so called 'history' leads one to believe."



    That caused LaRoca to take notice...She's not going where I think she's going, he hoped...

    "Nothing ever changes, except Man. Improve a device, and you may double productivity. Improve a man, and you gain a thousandfold. Our ancestors were such men and women. We have learned much over the years, but one thing remains. Those who forget the past," she said, pushing a button on the podium that caused the cover over the new statue across from the podium to retract to the ground, "are doomed to repeat it."

    Jesu had seen that face before, now carved in polished granite, a figure 30 meters tall. Seen that image in Historical archives, from when he was chasing Amar Singh, trying to get a feel for the man. This face was much older, though was last seen on the bridge of the USS Reliant. It was the face of a man named Noonien Singh. Khan. "Madre de Dios," he whispered.

    "Who's that?" Eialu asked Koldor.

    "A nightmare for Earth," he said quietly. "I have a feeling that Denali may have great need of the Empire much sooner, once that statue's image gets back to the Federation."
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • gulberatgulberat Member Posts: 5,505 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Uh-oh...I know what I would think as a standard human: that the "lesson" they learned was that they should not have failed in killing off their genetic "inferiors." I'd say Denali is about to end up on a target list indeed.

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  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    Episode VI. Hubris and Hypocrisy

    "Bring my spear, invested with my youth
    Bring the children near, they must now be told the truth
    Old and young and those of foreign tongue
    Are you ready to fight?

    (you hear the drum and) run for your life
    (sweet avalon the heat is on)
    In other words, I hope and pray
    That time and tide wash the hate away
    A simple man with simple thoughts
    Who turned to force as a last resort "

    Mike Rutherford

    Federation Consulate, Vancouver Denali. 1700 local time


    "No ****in way..." Jesu could see the statue from the consulate. It was a highly impressive artwork as well, very skillfully crafted. The statue stood thirty meters, one hand outstretched, palm up, the other hand holding a sheathed knife. "Here I thought Williams had just gone stir crazy..."

    "This is definitely going to cause heads to explode back in Paris." Ennari Dai agreed, looking grim.

    "I wonder if that is significant." Barrister was looking at a high resolution image of the statue, now available on the local nets.

    "If what is significant?"

    "The blade the statue is holding. It is a Kirpan."

    Rusty grunted and glanced at Marq. "What is that, some sort of Klingon honor blade?"

    Marq shook his head.

    "No, it's from Earth," Barrister told him. "Specifically Sikhism. The Kirpan is carried by observant Sikhs as both a physical and spiritual symbol."

    "Symbol of what?" the Denion asked.

    Pausing for a moment, the android found the reference. "Physically it is an instrument of "Ahimsa" or non-violence. The principle of ahimsa is to actively prevent violence, not to simply stand by idly whilst violence is being done. To that end, the kirpan is a tool to be used to prevent violence from being done to a defenseless person when all other means to do so have failed. Symbolically, the kirpan represents the power of truth to cut through untruth. It is the cutting edge of the enlightened mind."

    "That doesn't change the fact that there is a thirty meter of Khan ****ing Singh standing outside the capitol, surrounded by cheering people,"

    Jesu replied darkly. "And where is Travis anyway?"

    "She's just arrived in the building," Rusty said, checking her communicator location. "She should be here in a couple minutes."

    "You thinking of relieving her?" Miller asked.

    "I'd pondered it...but she hasn't even been here for ten years. Plus there's her record...if we had to worry about her, she's had multiple opportunities to turn against the Federation. No," he said. "I think we can count on her."

    There was a knock on the door and Rusty opened it. As Jesu got a look at the marks on her, he began to doubt what he just said. "Captain, what the hell happened to your face?"

    It had dried, leaving a permanent 'warpaint' looking stripes over the upper half of her face. "A gift for a dying old man," she said a bit sadly. "My father never liked the fact that I hid my heritage. He's happy now at least."

    "You mean as a follower of Khan?"

    "What? Oh, No, as a shikaari. The closest translation would be 'huntsman'. Their mandate is to protect the innocent from the predators, both two legged and six legged." She shrugged. "I managed to kill an Ice Weasel when I was fifteen, that had derailed a maglev train over the bay. According to tradition, when i went back into the water instead of doing the smart thing and running, I became Shikaari."

    "How long did you know about that," the Admiral said, pointing out the window.

    "About forty five minutes Sir, same as you."

    "I don't mean the statue, I mean who it's a statue of!"

    "Oh, uhm. Fourth, no, fifth grade history I think."

    Ennari was thinking as she looked out of the window. "Admiral," she said. "I think this isn't as bad as you may think."

    "Isn't as bad? Theres a ****ing thirty-meter statue of Khan! Venerated as a local hero!"

    "Yes Jesu, I know" she said. "But that is something that everyone knew, or should have known if they had thought about it."

    "What do you mean?" Marq asked.

    "The colony has been open about it's past from the start...they're from a colony ship that left Earth in the late 1990s. They had to genetically modify themselves when they awoke to survive where they had ended up.There was only one group that did that in the last part of the twentieth century, and had the genetic engineering knowledge. it's the elephant in the room. Everyone knew it was there...but no one noticed it."

    "Until the Governor built a huge honkin' statute of it," Missy added.

    "Exactly."

    As the Admiral pondered that, there was a knock at the door. Rusty being next to it opened it. There was a Denali representative. "Excuse me, Admiral

    LaRoca? The Greatmother would like to speak with you."

    "But...she nevertalks to anyone!" Travis said, eyes wide.

    "Nevertheless, she does, and you too as well Captain."

    Missy just gave a surprised 'squeak' at that. "Just the two of us, or everyone?" Jesu asked.

    "You are all welcome, if you'll please follow me."

    "Some answers would be good right now." Miller said with a nod, as they followed the aide out. LaRoca noticed that travis looked even more spooked than from the crowd when they arrived several days ago.

    "Something wrong, Captain?" he asked.

    "Well," she said, "you're Catholic, right, Sir? It's kind of like being summoned by the Pope..."

    The aide led them down stairs to the tram station, where there was a car waiting on the main line. After a short ride of maybe five minutes they stopped, emerging onto another platform.

    "Wait, I was here yesterday," Ennari said as she recognized the station. "We're under the main hospital."

    "That's right," the Aide replied, as he led the way to an elevator. It was large enough for all of them, like many hospital elevators it could easily fit in an entire bed. As the door closed it went upwards, passing the lower floors to the top floor of the hospital. Only three stories up, but that was what was visible above ground, a lot of the city's buildings went down.

    It was a gorgeous view out the windows of the office, the woman behind the desk, not looking a day over fifty smiled as they came closer. She did not have the usual pelt or ears of the Denali, looking instead human, Indian perhaps, the Governor-General was also there, Kincaid standing by the window.

    She stood up as they approached and stepped out from behind the desk. "I suppose you have come with questions, in search of answers."

    "You could definitely say that," Rusty muttered.

    "There is a reason for everything, and often, the reason is not what is expected," she replied "Please, sit, there is tea or coffee if you wish,"

    Despite her apparent age, she moved with grace and power. Something clicked in Jesu's memory.

    "You...you're one of the original augments," he said, hand subconsciously sliding towards his sword.

    "Very perceptive Admiral, but please, sit," she said, sitting herself. "I mean you no harm. I mean no harm to anyone. I never have. I am but a physician and scientist, my name is Ranji Kaur."

    There was a pause, when Barrister spoke up. "Dr Ranji Kaur, born December 12, 1960, Vancouver Canada. Chief Geneticist for Khan Noonien Singh, last seen August 16, 1996--I must say Madam, you look exceedingly well for a woman of your advanced age."

    Jesu groaned inwardly. While the android's vast memory did come in handy more than once, tact was something that occasionally slipped...

    Fortunately she just laughed. "When four hundred fifty years old you reach, look as good you will not, hmm?"

    "Four fifty?" Said Dr Espinoza, her eyes widening.

    "A side effect of the first augmentation process, that was not able to be duplicated, and to be honest, I'm not sure that it should be. I don't think we're ready for immortality as a species." She picked up a cup of tea and sipped it. "And it's technically not immorality. Several hundred of those years were spent in cold sleep, and I am aging. Just slowly."

    Missy was still standing there at the edge of the room, slightly wide eyed. "Oh and please do sit down, Melissa," the Greatmother said. "I'm no one special, despite the stories that are told, and yes I know of them." She smirked. "I changed your diapers, so sit!"

    She sat, blinking. "You what?" she managed to get out as she absently picked up one of the cups of iced coffee.

    "I could never have children...so when I have time I help out in the hospital nursery," Ranji said. "But, that is not why you are here, is it Admiral?"

    "I honestly don't know what I'm doing here any more. I was sent here to make sure that your people weren't about to go over to the Klingons? Now I'm sure that the Federation will want nothing to do with you. To be blunt, I might have to talk the Federation out of launching a preemptive strike on this planet, but I'm not sure that's the wrong move."

    "So, you would repeat the same mistake your forefathers made," she said sadly. " Do you even know why we left Earth?"

    "Of course. Khan left Earth, because he lost the war. The people he oppressed with his tyrannical regime were able to overcome his augment army."

    "We left Earth... because if we did not...there would be atomic fire raining down upon two point one billion people. Tell me, Admiral. After we left...there were no more atomic wars, were there?"

    "Actually, there were. In the early 2030s, Russia and the United States and China and the European Union all warred against each other over conflicting interests and limited resources. The first days of the war saw five hundred million dead from nuclear strikes. Then conventional warfare followed, lasting for decades. It only ended when the United Western Alliance dropped an antimatter weapon over the Eastern Coalition's capital city. The final death toll of Earth's last world war was over six hundred million. And it was your destabilizing influence that set the whole thing in motion."

    "How typically human. Blaming others. The difference between us and you, Admiral.. is we admit to the sins of the past. And we also remember the sacrifices that were made..to save everyone that could be. Noonien never wanted power. he was appointed by the Indian government, to try to solve a food shortage. From there, things escalated until he was in charge." she sipped her tea and sighed. "Tell me, what do you think of Thomas Jefferson?"

    "The author of the Declaration of Independance? The man who said that all men are created equal? That Thomas Jefferson?"

    "Yes, the slave holder. The one who bought and sold other humans as property. You judge us by your standards, Admiral. Yet hold others, who have done far worse in high esteem. If you go to St Petersburg, or Moscow today, you will find statues of Lenin, and Stalin. Yet they killed more of their own people than the wars before we left." she stood, and looked out the window. "It was a brutal, savage time. He was a man of his era. A man who did not kill five hundred million people in one day. Those men...were the men who you seem to think were superior, merely because of their un-modified genes."

    Jesu gave her a hard stare. Rusty recognized the look. It was the look his brother wore when he heard truth, but didn't want to believe it.

    Marq cleared his throat. "She... does have a point, sir."

    She smiled sadly. "Oh do not get me wrong. I am not saying he was a good man. He was a man of his time. Smarter, stronger...but still, just as weak and capable of the wrong decisions, paving the way to hell with intentions of doing good."

    "Okay," Jesu conceded. "So my history may have judged harshly. But why the statue?"

    "As a reminder. That we were led here by a vision of peace--yet it is easy to talk of it...doing it is harder. Those who forget the past, are doomed to repeat it, as they say. I try to live my life by the principles he wanted...not how it ended up. I like to think we have succeeded partly. There is always things that can be improved, and while we may be superior to you Admiral in some things...we are not better. We are all equal before God. "

    Jesu just nodded.

    "That's all well and good," Ennari said, "but FNN won't see it that way. They'll just see a thirty-meter statue of one Earth's greatest villains."

    "FNN didn't even come out here," Missy said, muttering "didn't care enough about some rim world when there was closer scandals to cover."

    "It is thirty meters tall," the Governor said, "because it needed to be. Sadly, he had a lot of people die because of him. We have carved as many names as we knew of into the stone, but there is room for more should we need to update it."

    Jesu seemed taken aback by that. Marq looked over at Barrister.

    "I had noticed the names," the android said, "but I didn't comprehend the significance. I thought they were the names of the colonists, or something."

    "Still, though," Ennari went on, "the Admiral will have to mention this in his report. And the news service will get a hold of that report. And they will ignore all of the symbolism that went into that edifice and they'll just pick out 'a thirty-meter statue of Khan Noonien Singh unveiled in the capital city in front of a crowd of cheering locals.'"

    "She's right," Jesu admitted. "No matter how I frame it, they'll ignore the context and pick up on just that. We won't bomb you out of existence... I think I can promise you that, but you will never be admitted into the Federation now."

    "So much for 'freedom of speech' then," the Govenor growled. "Sir, you're not seeing the big picture here. Khan was a human villain, yes. But there are other races in the Federation that have had far worse in their history. There is a reputation among non-aligned worlds, that the federation is a human only club, not so much Starfleet, but the Federation leadership. This is like shooting yourselves in the foot...but then the Federation seem to be doing that a lot lately."

    Jesu looked around. The only Human members of his senior staff - Dr. Espinoza and Hacksaw Miller, just shrugged helplessly.

    Ennari spoke up. "The Federation has come a long way in the last two hundred and sixty years, but there are still limits to its tolerance. And like it or not, its central world is in fact Earth. Modern Earth is upheld as the model society for the Federation. And no one will want to be reminded of its not-to-distant, violent past. Not the Vulcans, not the Bajorans, not the Trill... Certainly not Earth itself. Nobody's going to like this."

    "Then be ready for a bunch of more worlds following Moab then, Sir...because you can believe the Klingons will use the hell out of this. Hell, the last two times it came up, the only vote against us joining was Earth. It was 240-1 last year." Missy shook her head and sighed. "I'm in Starfleet because i believe in it. But I've got to wonder sometimes, just what the problem is."

    "Indeed, it was only Ms Williams insistence that this statue be built in the first place that it was erected that we did it," Ranji said. "Earth paid for it!"

    "Wait, what?" Missy said.

    "She spent the better part of three years getting funding, and insisting that a monument to both the victims, and as a memorial to good intentions leading to hell, that we even considered this."

    "That TRIBBLE..." Jesu muttered.

    Ranji had walked back up to the desk, and pulled up the file with the transfers and receipts "The entire thing was funded by the Colonial Development office. They even brought in a stonecutter from Italy for this."

    "So her breakdown was all just an act?" Marq asked.

    "I don't know what her game is," Jesu said, "I only know that we've all just lost."

    "You know...first there's shipping to the Klingons being cut off...then this pretty much cuts off the Federation for good..." Missy frowned as she looked at the others. "Someone's trying to completely cut Denali off from everything, and everyone." She got a gleam in her eye though. "However, if William's files confirm the Greatmother's...then when you do get back to Earth, Sir, you can ask them first off, why did they pay..." she looked at the figure "Jeeze...that much latinum could buy a small planet...anyway why did they build a statue of Khan? Because I'm no accountant...but the Federation put that statue there, if I'm reading this right."

    "Something here really stinks, that's for sure," Rusty muttered. "Why would colonial development send us out here anyway?"

    "It's fairly well-known that the Admiral doesn't like augments," Marq said. "His arrest of Amar Singh made his career, and then there was the report on Facility forty-"

    "Classified report, thank you," Jesu cut his first officer off. "But yeah, they must've sent me out here assuming I'd look for the worst, and find it."

    Ranji just snorted derisively when she heard Amar Singh mentioned. "That one. He came here, seeking my help to build an army to save the galaxy. Fool. Armies save nothing. The only time violence should be used is to defend innocents. He was not happy with my answer."

    "See, now that's something else that can be taken out of context," Ennari pointed out. "People will focus on your admission that Amar Singh came to you seeking advice to build his augment army and ignore that you turned him down."

    "And we arrested him." She sighed. "He was wanted, his crimes were many. Then...we turned him over to your Federation representative, who let him go."

    "GAWD-dammit," Rusty exclaimed. "I've heard enough. Miss Williams is gonna get her wish. She's leaving this iceball, by way of my most uncomfortable brig cell."

    "Has anyone even seen her since her blow up?"

    "I haven't been looking for her, to be honest," Jesu said with a shrug. "I was hoping I'd never see her again. But to arrest her for treason, yeah,

    I'll make an exception." He tapped his combadge. "Tib, I need a lifesign scan for any non-augmented Human in the greater Vancouver area, exclude anyone with a Starfleet combadge signal."

    There was pause from the other end. "I am picking up forty-seven total, Admiral," the ensign manning the sensors on the Tiburon replied.

    "Well, that narrows it down," Rusty smirked. "Though she is a Federation rep, she may have a com of her own"

    "Good point," Jesu nodded "Tib, redefine search. Margaret Williams, the local Federation Colonial Development officer, she should have a combadge."

    "One second, Admiral? we're picking up the transponder for her communicator, however lifesigns are inconclusive."

    That caused a few raised eyebrows. "Location?"

    "Consulate building, sir, residential level."

    "Rusty, get over there and ask her to join us, I've got a few questions for her," Jesu said.

    "I should go as well," Maria said. "If the Tiburon couldn't get a good life signs reading, there could be a problem with her."

    "Makes sense, Travis, can you show them the way?"

    "Don't think they've changed that part of the city too much, Sir" she replied with a nod. "we'll be back shortly." He nodded as the three of them left.

    Ranji looked out of the window towards the statue and sighed. "Once again, even long dead, you make things worse, Noonien."

    "It sounds like you don't care that much for him," Hacksaw said as he refilled his coffee.

    "All he wanted was to take care of his people," she replied, "but he grew arrogant, and believed he had all the answers." She shrugged. "Most tyrants in history never twirled their moustaches and cackled evilly. Like all men, he was both good and bad. But his early successes convinced him that only he knew best, and instead of negotiation and compromise..."

    "A familiar pattern," Jesu nodded, pondering. The more he heard...the more human they seemed, not in a good way.

    "In more ways than one. The scientists that created him were also blinded by earlier successes," she said. "I was born with a neurological birth defect, could barely walk, though my mind was sharp. I was one of the first that was genetically augmented, as an attempt to correct that defect. It worked flawlessly, so then they raised their aspirations higher..." she shook her head "Trying to direct Human evolution without any understanding of Human nature is just asking for trouble."

    "Yet you do that here," Ennari stated.

    "Because if we do not, well there would be nothing here. The drive to survive, is one of the strongest imperatives for any life form. The changes, however drastic they seem--are mostly cosmetic. Minor tweaks to enable people to survive harsh conditions. It is when men attempts to make gods? that things go awry."



    Federation Consulate, 1815

    It had only taken them a few minutes to get back to the Consulate. The building was mostly empty for the day as the three of them and a Consulate guard got off the lift at the residential level. Stepping out of the elevator, both Rusty and Missy stopped. "Something... doesn't... smell right," Rusty said, between deep sniffs.

    "Yeah, I smell it too," she said "...familiar, but can't place it." She reached down and pulled her phaser from the holster.

    Rusty nodded and pulled his own weapon out as well. "Stay here Maria" he ordered, the Deinon and the Denali carefully moving down the corridor.

    "I can smell it now too, and colder as well..." the guard added, her own weapon in her hand. She wasn't Denali, but human. She led the two starfleet officers to the end of the hall. She pulled out her security key, then overrode the door--only to scream as something came out of the door, large fangs digging into her arm

    "****!" Rusty and Missy aimed their weapons, but there was too much risk of hitting the flailing and screaming security officer. About the size of a targ, looking like a juvenile version of the four winged monstrosities that prowled the skies of the planet.

    Rusty simply dropped his phaser and pounced on the thing's back, digging in with his toe-claws. His fingers hooked into the the creature's mouth and he tried to pry the jaws open. The thing reached up with it's forelimbs to try to sweep the Deinon off, and beat him with it's wings, until Rusty turned and caught a wingtip in his mouth and bit down, hard. The creature squealed and released its grip on the guard, as Missy stepped forward, her knife sweeping out and decapitating the baby quadraptor.

    Dr. Espinoza was already running up with her medkit out, the wound while bloody, wasn't that bad. Rusty on the other hand...he was coughing and gagging.

    "T...they're not toxic are they?

    "No" Missy said, "but they taste pretty horrible, or so I've heard."

    "No freakin' kidding," Rusty sputtered as he walked over to the sink in William's quarters, sticking his mouth under the faucet and blasting the water, trying to get the taste out. He stood up, water drenching his uniform. "I feel like I wanna gargle with bleach... blech. My gawd that's disgusting..."

    Missy handed him his phaser pistol, and they proceeded deeper into Williams quarters. There was a glow from the desk, her terminal was on and a well gnawed body as well, the window having been propped open. "What the hell?" Maria asked as she looked up from where she was treating the injured guard.

    "Is that Williams?

    "Smells like her," Rusty said with a growl. There was a knife on the floor by her hand, brown with dried blood, as was a good portion of the carpeting.

    "Nothing else here," Missy said as she secured the window, looking down at the half eaten body. "Damnit," she muttered as she carefully opened the terminal on the desk, looking for information.

    "My thoughts exactly, Jesu's not gonna like this..."


    Dr Ranji Kaur's office

    "What!?" The entire room paused from Jesu's shout, as Rusty's voice came over the Admiral's combadge

    "Maria thinks she's been dead at least twenty-hours. Her files had been wiped as well, with only one message on the screen: 'The Greatest Joy is Service.'"

    "It's too soon to tell for certain, Admiral," Dr. Espinoza added, "but there are what looks to be self inflicted wounds on her wrists, and the carpet is soaked in blood. I'm bringing her to the hospital for an autopsy. They've got a bit bigger lab than we do on the Tiburon."

    "Dios mio..." he shook his head. "Coordinate with the locals, Rusty. They may have security cameras that picked up any visitors. Maria, let me know once your autopsy is done, and someone contact the IT support personnel at the Consulate. Hopefully someone did regular backups on William's files."

    Meanwhile, Barrister was re-examing the enhanced image of the statue. "Most curious. This was not meant to be a permanent structure , was it?"

    Kincaid shook her head. "No, CD's plan was to display it here, then disassemble and ship it to Earth as a gift, like France did with the Statue of Liberty. Though I see now that if putting it up here didn't start a war, putting it up in Paris would have."

    "I see," the android mused.

    "I know what we need to do Jesu," Hacksaw said slowly... "It went up in a few hours, it can come down that fast. We load it up and tow it back to Earth."

    Everyone looked flabbergasted, except for Barrister. "But we are not going straight back to Earth... I thought, we were going to look into the piracy problem?"

    "True, and also neither the Tiburon or Nighthawk is a tug with dedicated tractor emitters..." Ennari added. "It would be a shame if something happened to this gift..."

    "If something did happen while we were towing it," Marq said "I suppose we'd have to replace it. Maybe get a large fruit basket or something."

    There were people back on Earth, in both Starfleet and the FDC, that at times questioned LaRoca's choices in personnel. Why he had such a motley bunch, some with questionable backgrounds. Times like this, he thought to himself, when they find answers to impossible problems, is why. "While that could take care of one problem... people still saw it..."

    "Not so much a problem," Kincaid said, looking at the Greatmother. Ranji just sighed.

    "Fine, as much as I hate to use the 'Greatmother' card... if I say that I don't like being reminded of such things, the majority will follow along."

    "Would that really work?" Hacksaw wondered.

    "Well enough," the governor-general nodded. "The Church of Khan might be upset, but they're always upset."

    "Church of what?" Jesu sputtered.

    "Religious freedom, Admiral. People are free to worship, or not worship how they please. Though I believe," the governor said, checking her padd, "yes, in the last census, they numbered less than three thousand. Outnumbered ten to one by the Church of Elvis."

    "You give me sixty plus million people on Earth, and I bet I can find more than three thousand nutcases," Hacksaw said with a smirk.

    "Indeed," Barrister added, "that is a far smaller percentage of the population than voted for the 'Humans Only' party's candidate for President during the last election cycle on Earth."

    "Just how many did vote for them?" Kincaid asked

    "11,438. less than half of the number that voted for a Lurian by the name of Morn."


    USS TIburon - 0702 local time

    They say a good night's sleep brings a better day. If only that were true, Jesu thought. Oh sure, the statue was being disassembled and packed into its shipping container, no longer making the skyline. But there were more questions than answers. Williams' files were gone, rewritten, erased, then slagged. Fortunately, that was only her personal files. The Counslates financial records were backed up daily by the data support staff, verifying the Denali claims. The Federation not only paid for the statue, but also a rather substantial sum was funneled from the Colonial Development accounts to pro-Klingon groups.

    Then there was the tactical analysis that he'd asked Barrister to run. It was not a pretty picture--the entire Denali Home Guard was less than 50,000 strong. Well trained...but one carrier group could land more than enough MACOs to handle that. Then there was the other problem. The actual threat posed by the Denali - the Children of Khan or not - was computed to be less than the threat of militant clans from Andoria seceding from the Federation, or more Maquis type groups forming. For the most part, they followed the teachings Khan claimed to follow. Non-violence was taught from an early age... while true, most were armed, it was for protection from wildlife. If there was an attack by the Federation, it would be a slaughter, no, it would be genocide. They would fight to defend their homes and families?and worst of all, this was a mess of the Federations own making, knowing or not.

    There was a chime from the door, Jesu rubbed his eyes and put down the report "it's open."

    Dr. Espinoza walked in, looking as tired as he felt. "I've got the autopsy report. It was suicide, right about the time the Nighthawk buzzed downtown the day before the election."

    "Well, that gives us a time anyway. Did you find anything else, drugs, anything that could explain her behavior?"

    "No..well, there was a hell of a lot of scar tissue in her nervous system...as if she'd been subjected in the past to severe neurological trauma, but there was nothing in her medical records that covered that. It was old though, at least ten years or more." She shrugged. "Other than that, she was perfectly normal, at least what was left of her."

    "Rusty said that those critters did a number on her body. He was also hitting the salsa picante last night at dinner, to try to get the last of the taste out of his mouth."

    "I can imagine. They smelled pretty bad as well. They got a lot of her soft tissue, as well as most of the brain. There wasn't much to work with, to be honest."

    He just nodded. "Thanks, while I was hoping you might have found something... I guess we're lucky to have gotten that much. Were you up doing that all night?"

    "It took a while for the toxicology tests, those were blank as well. She didn't drink, smoke, totally clean." She shook her head and sighed. "I need a shower and a few hours of sleep, how long until we break orbit Admiral?"

    "Couple more hours, though to be honest, as much as I like hunting down pirates, I really want to get my hands on whoever was giving Williams her orders."

    "You'll get them, sir," Maria said reassuringly. "You always do."

    He just nodded as she walked out. She was right; when he had his mind set on an objective, he never gave it up. He just hoped he could find and stop whoever was behind this before everything fell apart.
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • ianfasianfas Member Posts: 1 Arc User
    edited September 2013
    awesome story, thanks for your work.
  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited October 2013
    Episode VII: On the Hunt



    Full sails ahead, oceans painted red
    When the soldiers of fortune hunt for pirates
    No questions asked, we fulfil our task
    Tones all turn grey after sunset

    Slaying a man, taking what you can
    What is right, what is wrong, who can answer?
    Sailing the seas, we do just what we please
    Emperors, pirates; all cancer


    Turisas Hunting Pirates

    USS Nighthawk 0730 local

    She couldn't sleep. Well she could...but woke up shouting, dreaming of burning cities, the shadow of a long dead tyrant covering the land. Figuring that sleep just wasn't going to come easily, Missy pulled on some shorts and a shirt she picked up from a Disaster Area concert on Andoria. Might as well get something useful done, unofficially as it were.

    Taking the turbolift down into the bowels of the ship, she stopped on deck 20, where a lot of the waste processing, and the big industrial replicators were located. Lt Rin was hard at work, the Ferengi busily programming the replicator for resupply of the Nighthawk's torpedoes. "How's it looking?" She asked as she half slid down the ladder to the lower level.

    "Should work no problem Captain" he replied, his pointed teeth bared in a very happy smile "Usually we only have lower quality materials to feed into the replicator--this stuff is high grade duranium and granite. Easy to break down into reloads for the torpedo launchers."

    She just nodded, unable to grin as the last of Khan's polished granite nose was broken down into sub atomic particles, to be reassembled as torpedo casings coming out the other end. Oh they'd still need to be armed and fueled, but that was easily taken care of. True it was only a small portion of the damned statue, the Governor-general had gotten the idea to leave the ten meter base,which was the part engraved with the names as memorial. That just made the whole exercise even easier. About time my insane ancestor was good for something she thought as she watched another piece being brought into place.

    "We should be fully stocked by the time we leave orbit," he said, as more torpedo casings emerged, the ordinance techs loading them onto the lift to be taken for preparation.



    Klingon Consulate?

    "...I still don't get it," Eialu said. "They went through all that trouble to build it, then they tear it down?"

    "I explained the significance of the Statue," Koldor told her.

    "Yeah, but you've also told me before--that most people who get a statue are one sort of son of a ***** or another." She stated.

    "Some of them don't...or shouldn't...get statues--imagine the hue and cry if, say, Melani Di'an gifted the High Council with a statue of Molor,"

    Koldor instructed. "How do you think that would go over?"

    She sighed. "Badly...it was a very good statue, too--very well made, beautiful even."

    He laughed, "Your aesthetic tastes ignore their cultural drives--Humans are very passionate people, much given to acting on the whims of their feelings--in some ways, we Klingons are less...prone than they are--perhaps because we are less prone to denying it--and your people are much the same."

    Eialu frowned. "My people..." she said. "My aunt challenged me once--she asked me to tell her of Orion artists, Orion Philosophers...the most recent one I could think of was Thoros--and he was centuries ago and considered to be quite mad."

    Koldor sighed. "Here we go with the speeches about Orion decadence--you are more like your Aunt every day." he said.

    "Maybe she's right. This place--they have almost nothing--yet I could utterly lose myself in the?Music," she said. "The other night--at the bar...it was transcendent--it was like being someone else, or inside an active imagination?"

    Koldor laughed. "Don't tell me you're falling in love with this place."

    "I'm not--but I'm going to remember this visit for a very long time," Eialu told him. "I just wish I had more images of that statue...it was amazing, and now it is gone."

    "Speaking of 'gone', Eialu..." Koldor said, "We must depart--you have a new assignment from the Fleet, and I must get the Sector House in order..."

    "Are we going to be heading back in the carrier?" Eialu asked.

    "No, the Eli'jaH will be arriving--I will be escorting the Nighthawk into our territory to find these pirates, you will be taking one of the B'rels from the Carrier--and transporting my report by hand..."


    USS Tiburon

    Last minute checks were underway. Usually anytime there was a shore leave, there was usually a scramble by the junior officers who wanted just a bit more vacation to get in that last bit of fun. But with a storm coming in from the mountains, and temperatures in Vancouver forecast to drop twenty degrees...well maybe a few Andorians would enjoy it, everyone else was happily in warmer temperatures on the ship. with one exception.

    "I feel like I'm melting."

    Rusty just made a sort chuckling sound in the back of his throat as he escorted the Governor to one of the guest cabins. It had been Miller's idea that she should be on the Tiburon as additional diplomatic cover while in Klingon territory...and to skip Colonial Development entirely. The colony had followed the advice from Colonial Development and let CD handle their application, like so many other colonies had. So instead she was going to talk to the Federation Council in person, and also as possible bait. Whoever it was that was trying extremely hard to cut Denali off from the other galactic governments would most likely not take too kindly to Rachelle's first person diplomacy.

    "It takes a few minutes for it to cool down," he replied. "It can be set to just about any temperature needed."

    "At least I won't need the environment suit for a while," she said as she dropped her luggage on the stand by the door.

    "I thought you could handle the climate on Earth without that?" he asked curiously, looking at it. It did not look like it could handle low pressure, in fact it looked more like the cooling undergarment worn under environmental suits in extremely hot conditions-say a couple thousand kilometers from the surface of a star. Which would make sense he thought, it's high heat that gives her people a problem.

    "Earth yes, but Vulcan is another matter. We should have just went there in the first place to be honest, they would look at the whole situation logically, and judge us by what we are not by what our ancestors did."

    "Yeah, if you can convince the Vulcans, they'll get the rest in line," he agreed. "If you need anything just ask the computer, there are replicators in the room, but the real food is in the Deck Six lounge. The chefs there always have something cooking."

    "Thank you Commander, and thank the Admiral again for me for this."

    He just smiled. "Hey, somebody went through a hell of a lot of trouble to TRIBBLE your people over - hell, screwed a lot of colonies over. You deserve a chance to make your case without their interference. And if you're being there causes these folks to panic and do something stupid that flushes them out, it's a win for everyone."


    Tiburon, ready room

    Jesu stared at the report with a sick look on his face. He'd gone into the records , looking for worlds that had applied to the Federation, then withdrew the application, were denied, or colonies that had split off to either go independent, or joined the Empire. There was only Moab so far that had taken that last step, but from reading the news stories over the last year or so...that was just the tip of the iceberg. Almost every proposal to build something that would benefit some colony or other had been rejected in the last eighteen months...but almost every resource was going to New Romulus. Why? Yes, getting D'Tan's government on their feet was important, both for the Federation and the entire quadrant...but not at the expense of everything else.

    Still, they wouldn't find the answers here. They had a couple weeks to look into the piracy issue, then had to return to Earth to deliver his report on the situation. He looked at the other screen on his desk where that awaited him. CD was not going to be happy with this, but then he wasn't happy with CD. Problem was, a lot of folks wouldn't see "Earth built a Khan statue" - they would just see "Khan statue" and think the worst. He'd have to be careful who got copies of this, while at the same time getting enough copies of it out that this kind of bungling could be stopped. Assuming it was just incompetence; this had the feel of deliberate action.

    There was a chime at his door. "Come in!"

    "We're ready to depart at any time, Admiral," Marq stated. "All personnel are aboard, the Governor is settled in, the Nighthawk reports ready as well, and we're being hailed by the Eli'jaH."

    "I'll take it on the bridge," he said, closing the files. enough time to worry about socio political ramifications on the trip back to earth, right now there were pirates to hunt down.


    IKS Eli'jaH...


    "It is GOOD to be home." Koldor greeted L'tana, his mate on the transporter pad. "We have not found the traces you expected, Husband," she told him.

    "It was a small gamble," Koldor said. "What about the other matter?" he asked, walking down the corridors to his quarters.

    "THAT was somewhat easier--Kriton agreed to turn over the files you requested with no great protest," she told him. "I took the liberty of forwarding the relevant files to General Ssharki."

    Koldor smiled. "Among all the reasons I Love you, you find one more." he said.

    "How was the Orion Strumpet?" she asked pointedly.

    "Younger than her Aunt, and just about as tightly wound," Koldor said. "She does loosen up--if you get her drunk enough--but not so much that anyone's honour is at risk."

    "Least of all yours." L'tana observed.

    "I am a Happily married man," Koldor told her. "Why would I endanger that for an alien piece of TRIBBLE?" He felt his face. "Nope, Not James Kirk...still."

    She laughed. He deposited his own bag in the doorway of his quarters. "We're going to escort a Federation vessel carrying Denali dignitaries to visit Klingon worlds." He stated.

    "I read the orders you cut," L'tana said. "I won't question the wisdom of this...visit." she added.

    Koldor shrugged. "Others will," he observed, as they rode the turbolift to the bridge.

    "Hail the USS Tiburon" Koldor ordered, "and be polite about it."


    IKS Qul wovHa', B'rel class, Vancouver Airfield?

    "Does everything actually work?" Eialu asked, looking at the condition of the second of two flight-deck based B'rel ships.

    "Everything works, Lieutenant Colonel," Staff Sergeant Ssahaaz, the assigned crew-chief for the ship, replied. "She's old and she sees a lot more takeoff/landing cycles than most birds of her class, but she's solid."

    "Get us take-off clearance, then," Eialu said, "We need to form up with the Eli'Jah and the USS Tiburon for the first five days of our trip--minimum."
    "Vancouver control, this is Klingon Heavy Bravo Two, requesting departure clearance, over." The Communications officer was from some minor humanoid race in the Empire that Eialu couldn't quite place, but his voice was that mellow, fluid 'announcer's' tone that she'd grown accustomed to hearing on PubNet advertising.

    "Klingon Heavy Bravo Two, you are cleared to orbit. Have a good trip," the tower called back, the sun just peeking through the clouds of the approaching storm. "And come back and see us sometime," the female departure officer added. Eialu smiled, and tabbed her input mic, "Will do, Vancouver Control-we had a really great time."

    Eialu took the helm control at the Captain's station, and lifted off with the glassy smoothness only a skilled pilot on manual can really obtain."Stable..." Eialu commented, as she added power and brought the ship on a graceful ballistic arc, across the Ionosphere and into orbit. There wasn't even a shudder. "Hail the Eli'Jah and get us a convoy assignment." She ordered.



    USS Nighthawk

    It itched horribly. Of course the Starfleet Uniforms weren't all that comfortable either, but something in the fabric was annoying. Missy sighed and checked her reflection one more time. It looked...weird to be wearing this, but necessary. The Colors were familiar, the pattern however, not so much.

    It was more loose fitting than she was used to, mainly black and grey, with her name embroidered over the pocket on the left side, the Denali Home Guard logo on the shoulder-a blue circle, with a stylized wolfs head on a yellow triangle. It was comfortable enough...just itched. She shrugged and headed towards the bridge, it was time to get moving.

    Permor had gotten out of her seat before the turbolift doors had even opened, sometimes she swore he was psychic or something "What's our status?"

    "We're ready to break orbit Captain, or should I say Colonel?" the trill said with a grin.

    She just muttered and sat down. "Depends on who we're talking to, I guess, contact the Tiburon, and tell the Admiral we're ready when he is."

    Giving one last look at her homeworld, she formed up with the other ships, and jumped to warp.




    Near the MooseJaw Nebula, six days later


    There really wasn't much to see, unlike a lot of nebulae that they'd run into in the past. Mostly a cloud of dark gas that blotted out a good portion of the galaxy from view of Denali, it made a dark splotch in the sky that could be seen, well not so much seen, as blocking ...and it was where a lot of the ships going to there ended up vanishing. Not that there was much evidence of them at all even existing?

    The Nighthawk had taken the lead in this part, cruisers were more multi-purpose ships, having a better sensor package than either the Tiburon or the Eli'jaH. They were stationary with the main drives off line, while the astrometric science department scanned for months old warp trails.

    "Got anything?" Missy asked, not wanting to be a pest, but really hoping that they came up with something. Commander Niren, her Ferengi science officer, frowned as she looked over the display. "I've got a lot of things, Captain--which ones are relevant, I'm not really sure." She pointed at the screen "this one is a couple months old, can barely pick it up. It got to right about here..then there's a Tachyon flare...then nothing."

    "What does that mean?"

    "I don't know what that means. I do know that the dust and radiation from that nebula over there is skewing our readouts. I'd suggest going in to take a look, but we've fired three probes into there, lost contact with all of them as soon as they entered the dust."

    "So taking the ship in would be a bad idea."

    "I wouldn't say that-just that once you're in, there's little visibility, and no communications. you could do it...but you'd be totally blind, and getting back out again might not be easy."

    "Damnit, just once could something be easy?"

    Niren just laughed. "If it was easy, they wouldn't have us out here doing it."

    "True," she said with a sigh, then turned to the viewscreen, where Admiral LaRoca and Ambassador Koldor were monitoring. "Any ideas Admiral, Ambassador?" she asked.

    "We could always send in a shuttle on a remote course, to loop in and out..."

    "Just a moment..." Koldor said, "How would you feel about a chassis that is a bit larger and tougher than a shuttle?"

    "Tougher is good, but I don't want to risk sending people in where they might not be able to find their way out of, and where we can't even contact them to get them out..."

    The three-way turned four-way. "Lieutenant Colonel, you've been listening?" Koldor asked.

    "The Mk IX B'rel class is equipped with inertial guidance systems," Eialu said. "Mechanical--the design was built for reconnaissance originally, and has several systems intended to allow us to continue our mission even in the event of major systems failures."

    "SO...you're volunteering?" Koldor asked.

    "If your dispatches can wait the extra time, yes," she answered. "Of course, this IS the older model, we don't have the crew complement we'd need if we were doing boarding actions--unless Starfleet is willing to loan me a company of Marines?"

    "I've got that Home Guard Company that we brought aboard," Missy said. "It might be better if they went instead of Starfleet, just incase we do find any of the missing Klingon ships in there." she grinned at the Ambassador. "That way everyone's butts are covered."

    "I prefer Denali troops myself-we're not at war with Denali even in a technical sense." Koldor stated, "You can find your way out again, Lieutenant Colonel? You're SURE now?"

    Eialu shrugged. "Barring something weird, it's just obscurant dust and whatever boobytraps someone left in there--if someone left anything." she said, "I'll be dropping probes for relay about every five AU, and Qul wovHa' here was last fitted as a forward reconnaissance bird, so we're running better sensors than we would be if her last job was underway replenishment." She frowned. "As if you'd planned it this way."

    "Now that's just paranoid, Lieutenant Colonel," Koldor said. "You're starting to sound like your aunt again."

    "Sounds good to me" Missy said, as she hit another button on her chair "SgtMajor, have your troops ready in five, need a team to head out on the Qul wovHa for possible boarding action."

    "Heading for Transporter room three now, Colonel". He cut the comm down in the marine barracks on deck 15. "First platoon, with me!" They had been suited and ready since they dropped out of warp, not knowing what they were going to run into, if anything. In under three minutes they were beamed over to the Qul wovHa, the platoon stowing their gear while SgtMaj Kincaid reported to the bridge.


    Qul wovHa', bridge?

    "Welcome Aboard, Sergeant Major," Eialu said. The ship had a host of obvious signs of age--including bare places where previously installed equipment had hung. Even for a KDF ship, it was a 'stripped down' model--most of the old crew quarters had been converted to cargo bays, then to equipment bays...the bridge was no different. Everything here obviously worked, but even more obviously had been installed sometime long after the ship had been built.

    The crew weren't 'Regulars'--"Ma'am, are you the only Officer aboard?" Sgt. Major Kincaid asked.

    "I have a couple of NCO rates, but yeah," Eialu replied. "Most of these guys are reserves or technical specialists."

    He just nodded. "Well we've got some folks with experience with these birds as well, had a couple given to us for training purposes," he said. "If you need their ratings I can get them to wherever you're short, Sir"

    "Great!" She smiled. "Take Ops, Sgt Major, and start filling holes--we have about half a crew right now."

    He nodded and sat down, the big white furred Denali almost looking too big for the seat. "Travis, Sanjit, Singh, get to engineering and see what help they need," he said over the com, looking over the ships roster "also grab Kapur and Malik, and get them to the med bay here--they've just got one corpsman fresh out of bootcamp, it looks like--see what he needs, and 'borrow' it from the Nighthawk before you transport over." He grinned at Eialu. "They'll never miss it anyway."

    "Mago, get down to the mission bay and start prepping relay drones." Eialu said, "I want drops every 3 AU as we cross the boundary layer of that gas cloud." She looked over to the Sargeant Major. "And thanks."

    He just smiled as she strapped in. "We know who our friends are, and you've lost people out here. Lets go find them."

    "Secure all stations, we're going in cloaked," Eialu said, and looked over at Kincaid, "I think Koldor's got the same Idea I do--a cloud like that's great for hiding wreckage and prepping between ambushes."

    "Of course that works both ways..unless they're running something none of us have right now..they won't see us either, cloaked or not."

    She nodded. "I'm aware of that...but it's good to have someone ELSE who's aware of it."

    He just chuckled and checked the ops panel. "Everyone's reporting ready Sir, and the infirmary is a lot better stocked than it was," he said with a grin. "Lets just hope we don't need it."


    Inside the Nebula-two hours later

    Sensors were dead, the inertial nav system was running fine fortunately, less than two minutes after leaving the other ships, all communication was lost. The ionization was keeping almost any signals from getting through, leaving visual...and oddly enough, the landing system radar was on a low enough frequency that it had little issues with the dust. Still, so far. Nothing. They could hear the sound occasionally of the stellar dust against part of the ship as they flew through dense patches, so far the Lt Colonel at the helm had managed to miss the worst of them. Two buoys had been dropped, the first one they had already lost signals from it when there was an unexpected beep coming from the landing system.

    "Contact, we've got something, ten kellicams ahead" the senor officer said.

    "That close it should be visual...normally anyway." Eialu slowed the ship even more, easing in quietly. "There...a shape ahead. Any life signs or power?"

    "Negative on the life signs, and minimal power, batteries only, I think." He peered at the monitor and shook his head. "There could be someone there..we just can't detect it through the ionization."

    "Transporters probably won't work then either, would they?" Kincaid asked.

    "Probably not, no...wait-" the shape on the viewscreen firmed up as they approached "...It's the Sar'tang."

    They could see it now, no lights on in any of the ports, drifting nose down to their approach. "Well, it's a Klingon ship, so the airlocks would be compatible, but with no power on the other end will that be a problem?" Said Kincaid as he looked at the derelict.

    The engineer smirked. "This ship is designed with possible hostile boarding in mind SgtMajor, not that we'd do such a thing?"

    "Gotcha." He unbuckled his harness and stood up. "I'll get my people by the Airlock then, Sir," he said, heading aft.

    The Sar'tang fortunately was not tumbling, the docking was a simple affair. Once the lights were green, Kincaid wasn't surprised to see Eialu approaching them, enviroment suit already on, helmet in hand. The Home Guard were similarly suited, not being able to tell if the atmosphere inside was breathable, or even what was waiting in there. "Ready when you are, Sir," he said, deferring to her. This was a Klingon ship that they were about to board after all.

    "Weapons ready and assume we're going into enemy controlled territory," Eialu said. "I assume you're familiar with boarding assaults in a hostage situation?"

    "We've never actually had hostage situations," he said with a grin. "We're pretty peaceful back home--but we have trained with the KDF doing them." He fastened his helmet, Sgt Singh checking the seals then giving him a thumbs up. Two of the platoon took positions on either side of the airlock door, everyone else moving out of the opening as Kapur used the bird of prey's power to cycle the lock on the transport.

    "Locks clear, lets move." They made their way into the ship, a weak red glow from fading emergency light batteries the only illumination besides their own lights. The corridor was empty...well almost. There looked to be a jumpsuit and boots in the middle of the corridor, the kind that civilian spacers often wore...but no body, just what looked like dried ooze?

    "What the hell?" Kapur, one of the medics reached down to touch it only to have his arm grabbed by the SgtMajor. "Nobody touch nothing!" he growled over the com. The platoon nodded to each other, if there was any doubt this wasn't like the training, it was gone now. Kapur pulled out her tricorder and scanned the remains. "I can't tell what it was, its DNA is too broken down..almost dissolved."

    "Orion," Eialu said softly, seeing the jewelry sparkling in the lights from her helmet. "The kind of jewelry one would give someone they cared about."


    As they went on through the ship, it was the same. Twelve more piles of clothing were found, but no cargo, in fact anything useful had been stripped from the ship. There was nothing left but the silent tomb of the hull. They had been able to identify most of the crew by items left in the vacuum dried sludge on the deck, though the captain and bridge crew were missing. They hadn't gotten to the bridge yet, whoever had taken components out had stacked the parts of walls they had to cut out in front of the bridge access. It took a bit of work to make a path.

    Being she was in charge, and it was the KDF way, Eialu was the first onto the bridge. It sadly was as stripped as the rest, though there were no dissolved bodies on the floor, instead what looked like phaser scorch marks on some of the consoles and walls. "Whoever did this used phasers" one of the troops said as she scanned the damaged areas. The ships log was slagged as well.

    "In here, but what the hell happened to the others?"

    "No Idea Sir, we've got samples though, and can have them analyzed when we get back."

    They finished their scans and video, then climbed back over the debris. "Be careful through here, this metal is sharp."

    Of course, as soon as Eialu said that... "Ouch! Damnit!"

    Kincaid just sighed over the com "Private Korm, when someone tells you something is sharp, don't touch it to make sure, dumbass." There was atmosphere leaking from the privates glove, the Medic just slapped a patch over it. "This will hold till we get back to the ship, if you bleed to death you deserve to," he muttered, though from checking the wound it wasn't that bad.

    The Private just looked sheepish under his helmet as they continued back, only to wince a few moments later... "Maybe there was something on there, my arm's burning..."

    "Wait, what?"

    Sgt Kaur stopped and pulled out his tricorder again to check, when suddenly Korm began screaming. Within seconds his vitals had gone haywire, blood pressure dropping to unreadable levels, his legs buckling as if he no longer could control them. He crashed to the deck, body quivering inside the suit

    Eialu rolled his body over, and they could see what was happening on his face. There was a choking gurgle as the half klingon private's features seemed to dissolve from something that was spreading up from the lower part of his environment suit, the ooze covering the faceplate as the body went still. she scanned what was happening with a tricorder.

    "Bioweapon. Nasty one," she said, and swept the sensor around to scan herself. "all over the surface of my suit, too."

    "Everyone else too, probably," Kincaid growled. "If you don't have good decon on your ship, we may have to risk the transporters to get back."

    "That or just tow the hulk back" Sgt Kaur said "the Nighthawk has isolation wards in their sickbay, and I really think we may need those to be safe."

    "Transporters should be fine at this range...they've a good enough bio filter we won't have to worry. This one, however," she said, pointing to the late lamented private, "we can put his suit and him in one of the external lockers, I don't want this in my ship, but we need to find out what this is."

    Fifteen minutes later they were underway back towards the edge of the nebula, more questions than answers. one problem had been solved though. It wasn't accidental, it was definitely an enemy of some kind.

    "Nighthawk, we have good news and bad news," Eialu transmitted once they were clear enough to get a signal out, then she turned to Kincaid. "Go ahead, Sergeant-Major, tell them."

    "We've found the Sar'tang...it's stripped to the bare hull. Crew dead, and we lost Private Korm when his suit got punctured, and he got infected with some bioweapon that was onboard. We have his body strapped to the outside, where do you want it?" He hit a button on the ops console as well, transmitting their findings to all three ships.


    USS Tiburon

    "Dios mio..." Jesu looked ill at the images on the screen at Private Korm's last moments. "You've got an isolation ward, Nighthawk, correct?"

    |"Affirmative, we're a bit short on biologists at the moment though, as we were doing combat missions against the Borg." Travis replied.

    "Right, I'll have Dr Espinoza beam over, Ambassador" he said turning to look at Koldor on the other side of the viewscreen "Under the circumstances, I'd like for your medical personnel to be involved in this as well."

    Koldor nodded. "Yes," he said. "I will be sending over my best people."

    "Thank you, Ambassador," Jesu said, shaking his head. "This is definitely not turning out like we expected." In truth, he'd thought it would be merc pirates hired by whoever was behind Williams. If only that was the case.
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited October 2013
    Episode VIII: Through the Darkness

    Get up, come on get down with the sickness
    Get up, come on get down with the sickness
    Get up, come on get down with the sickness
    Open up your hate, and let it flow into me

    Get up, come on get down with the sickness
    You mother get up come on get down with the sickness
    You ****er get up come on get down with the sickness
    Madness is the gift, that has been given to me


    Disturbed Down with the Sickness


    Sickbay, USS Nighthawk


    Dr Espinoza was waiting for the body of the late lamented Private Krom to be beamed into the isolation ward. Under the circumstances, they were running a diagnostic on the containment unit just to be safe, being it had last been used to house former borg drones.

    K'Ressa, for her part, was pleased to be working with a researcher of Espinoza's calibre--even if it WAS unexpectedly close to her own original field. "...interesting." she muttered, examining the remains. "Doctor, do you see what I see?"

    "It is definetly artificial, those genes show definite signs of being spliced together"

    "It's the pattern that is interesting...imperfect, but interesting." K'Ressa said. "Computer, simulated human tissue, introduce viral emulation to the simulation. Then run the same test on Klingon, Orion, and Denali Augment." She looked to Espinoza, "Bioweapons always have a target. Know the target, and you MIGHT know the origin...or not," she said. "There was a case Your people found of a bioweapon tied to a specific family. SOMEONE designed these genes. We need to establish WHO."

    "I'd throw Romulan in as well," the Nighthawks Vulcan CMO, Selvok, added. "It would not be outside the realm of possibility for the Tal'Shiar to use something like this, in fact I believe they have once."

    "Yes, add Romulan and Vulcanoid emulations." K'Ressa brought ten years as a bio-weapons engineer to the table--she'd actually invented bugs to kill people before Koldor pulled her out of that maligned and dishonoured profession. "And Gorn...Andorian?...[VERybadword]!!!"

    The tellarite lab tech just muttered under his breath, easier to just see what it didn't eat. Still, in a few moments the simulation was running...

    "It seems to be fairly consistently eating everything...but the only one that it is attacking the least is human. Anything already modified..." he said, pointing at the Denali simulation, "seems to almost fall apart. And Krom was half klingon, half Denali."

    K'Ressa looked at Dr. Espinoza. "You will report that it attacks everyone equally--or we're going to have riots..." she gestured, "This is The Nightmare not genocide for a single species, but for every species and SOME of a single species."

    "I would not say that," Selvok noted. "While the human is dying slower...if this was an actual paitent, they would still die in hours, instead of minutes."

    "It's the designed intent that matters as much as the performance," K'Ressa said. "Some of B'Vat's pet psychos offered to brew something LIKE this up--even THAT madman was wise enough to object," she stated. "But 'the Nightmare' exists as a theoretical study--how long would it theoretically take to start attacking the tissue it wasn't supposed to? None of the simulations gave it more than 30 generations."

    "Another thing," Dr Espinoza said as she thought out loud. "If this was a bio weapon...it's not easy to spread. The victims, at least in Private Kroms case and the simulation, would tend to die off far too fast. I was on a planet where there was an outbreak of Rigelian Swamp fever--normally it takes several days for patients to develop symptoms, however Tellarites developed symptoms and started dying in hours, and it was a tellarite colony--the death toll was far less than it would have been otherwise, because it burned itself out," she shrugged. "Of course, I'm thinking like a doctor in how to treat something like this...the idea of purposely releasing something this...evil, is beyond my comprehension."

    "It is repugnant, dishonourable, and a we-weapon of T-t-terror," K'Ressa stammered. "The c-c-c-connn-conception i-i-i-iss...." she growled in frustration, then typed it out on a PADD--with relevant reference files to Bioweapons research in the Empire, including countermeasures.

    Which she then handed to Espinoza.

    Maria looked over the PADD and nodded. "At least it doesn't seem that this is airborne. In a way, however, we're lucky that the private did puncture his suit...imagine if they had gone back to the ship, and opened their environment suits, breathing in the spores..."

    "Or worse," Selvok noted in the vulcan manner of finding the most unpleasant tidbit in anything at times. "The Home Guard platoon could have returned, felt nothing ill, until one of them ingested the toxin, then it would spread amongst the crew..."

    "Nightmare indeed," Maria shuddered. In the back of her mind she was imagining dispersal rates.

    "W-w-we r-r-ran sssiiimmullattionsss... wh-when th-the Augment vvirrruus...was...raging. th-this is...like those." She seemed to be getting a lock on her feelings. "Someone needs to die for this."

    "As much as I abhor violence, it is the only logical solution," Selvok agreed.

    "I wouldn't mind giving whatever cooked this up a taste of his own medicine," Espinoza muttered.


    USS Tiburon

    For a communications tech, this place was about as dead as you could get. Usually when the Admiral didn't have them hailing someone, or sending messages, there was chatter that could be listened to, enough to keep one's mind occupied, but here? There was only the two Starfleet and two KDF ships. The ensign idly scanned the frequencies, not expecting anything at all after days of nothing, finding something was such a shock he almost fell out of his seat.

    The XO looked up at the noise. Comm watch was rarely maintained on the bridge while in Federation space, and so the station was usually unoccupied. "Something wrong, Ensign?" Marq asked gruffly, half suspecting that the comm officer drifted off like ensigns often do when bored.

    "No Sir, I mean, yes Sir, I think?" he turned back to the console and boosted the gain... "Yes Sir, something is wrong, Sir..but not with us. I'm picking up a faint distress beacon."

    That got everyones attention, the Admiral spinning around in his chair. "Who needs our help, Ensign?"

    To his credit the ensign didn't get flustered, instead concentrating on his job. "Boosting, sending the data to navigation, definitely, well it's in Klingon, doesn't mean they're klingons...transport sounds like Sir," he increased gain on the receivers. "Picking up what sounds like active jamming now as well Sir."

    "Right, Ensign, uh..." LaRoca had no idea what the officer's name actually was. "Keep trying to clear that up. Pakray, help him out with nav processing. Barrister, we could use you on this too; see if you can't tweak the subspace decompiler for some extra bandwith."

    "Should we inform the Klingons?" Marq asked, as the officers set to work.

    "I think that would be wise" the Admiral nodded. "It is their space, their ship, possibly at least...soon as you get a location pass it on to the fleet."



    IKS Eli'jaH...

    "Do Better!" Koldor growled as his own Ops officers. "We are getting a fix on the vector now..."

    "Eialu, Cloak up--we're going," Koldor ordered. (but we are NOT going in stupid.) "Offer the Tiburon and Nighthawk access to our Tac-Net," he added, looking to his Ops man.

    "We just got a handshake offer from them, General. They have good positional data on the contact."

    "Excellent," Koldor said and smiled grimly. "Let's go see what we can see...Engage Cloak."

    Tac-Net access was invented by the Empire, sold to the Federation during the Dominion war, perfected by the Federation, and so the systems were virtual twins by the outbreak of the current conflict--Federation systems were generally considered qualitatively superior, but KDF systems more robust...especially for function between Cloaked vessels and uncloaked.

    "Tiburon hailing, sir," the ops officer said.

    "Hotlh," Koldor ordered.

    "Koldor, I recommend we send your BoP ahead as a scout, in case this is some sort of ambush," Admiral LaRoca said over the viewer. "The Tiburon can follow at support/escape distance, with the heavies as back-up if we run into something nasty."

    "Cautious, Admiral? I would not have expected that from you."

    "Only when going into the unknown, General."


    IKS Qul'wovHa

    "Sorry you won't be returning home as fast as we expected, Sergeant-Major," Eialu said, "but I think this might be the same buncho Shudat that killed that freighter..."

    "Um, what's a Shudat?" someone asked.

    "Orion word, basically ...bad." Kincaid said. "really bad...so, Ca-er, Colonel...ah, how're we playing this?"

    "Tight," Eialu said. "We come in, see what's going on, report back--if it's light opposition we kill them and make a report in the clear, heavies and we track and wait for the rest of the team." She nodded. "We're not looking to die--we're looking to make some other mother****er die."


    Tiburon

    "I really don't like the smell of this, sir," Lt. Stikvaa growled from the conn.

    "Me neither," LaRoca told him. "That's why we're following that bird at a distance. Just stand ready to redline the throttles and run, one way or another."

    "Right."

    "Miss Zain, Numbers, targetting is gonna be dodgy as hell in this nebula. Keep your fire tight, and set up five-degree friendly lockouts. Pakray, any chance we can clear up some of this fuzz?"

    "Depends on which fuzz Sir, the jamming possibly when we get in range...distortion from the Nebula?" he just shook his head.

    The Admiral frowned. "I really don't like the smell of this..."


    IKS Qul'Wov'Ha...

    "Mister Kincaid, this boat was rigged for electronic warfare before I took her for courier duty--how many trained EW People do you have--or talented amateurs? We can make some of this gear useful out here."


    "I think we can scare up someone," he said as he pondered the roster. "Sanjit, need you up on the bridge," he called. A few seconds later she appeared on the bridge, hard to see in the lighting with her black hair and mostly black fur, as she reported. "You needed me Sgt. Major?"

    "Take the sensor position," he said. "Shouldn't be too different with what you trained on during that last TDY."

    She nodded and strapped in, though with the seat raised enough to reach the console, her feet dangled just shy of the deck. "Got it, powering up the systems...ooh shiny!"

    "You know how to run that?" Eialu asked.

    She nodded.

    "Good. We need that gear warmed and ready to use," she said. "Coordinate with my station--use setting four."

    She nodded, setting it up, looking as if she'd had a bit more training in Klingon weapon systems than they had let on. "Tac-net is Sync'd sir, and we're also able to piggy back on the Nighthawk's targeting sensors as well."


    Eialu nodded, acceptingly. "Good...good. Helm...range to target zone?"

    "About seven point six LY, just at the far end of the Nebula," Kincaid said, pulling it up on the map. The edge of the nebula was fairly parallel to the main course that most ships would take heading out to Denali.

    "Cut speed to warp four, forward that to the flotilla--this is too convenient and I don't like it when things just drop in my lap," Eialu said. "Federation ambush tactics often use decoys on the far side of an obstacle--especially Tellarite captains."

    "Um...isn't that ORION tactics?" Kincaid asked.

    "Where do you think they learned it?" Eialu asked rhetorically. "They learned from US."

    Sanjit frowned as she adjusted the console. "Picking up active jamming ahead...passives might not be enough to burn through it," she said as she made adjustments. "We could go active but that would advertise we're here--but then they'll probably pick up the rest of the ships before too long--well at least the Federation ones."

    "Fire probes in a forty five degree spread to port, two squawkers two Rumblers," Eialu said. "Set the Rumblers for 'Vorcha'." She then indicated a new velocity-"Accelerate to Warp eight after you do it. Stay cloaked."

    "Probes away," she said, tracks of their courses hard to pick up on the jamming, the ship rumbling as it took the new speed, inertial dampers not quite as fast to compensate as Federation ones.

    "Now, analyze the scatter from the probes," Eialu stated. "It'll give us a side-view and if those're just pirates they'll spook...if they aren't...well, we'll see."

    "And that?"

    "Is a Federation trick--mask your approach by having something similar coming from a slightly different direction." she said.

    .Sanjit and Kincaid nodded, as if making mental notes. "Got it...getting returns from the squawkers, though too much jamming and interference from the Nebula to see what it is from here," she said. "They detected the rumbler, looks like they're coming about, heading back into the nebula."


    Eialu grinned. "Follow that trail-quietly." she said.

    "We're also picking up what seems to have sent the call," Kincaid added. "looks to be a D-7? No, too fat, the cargo version...and...TRIBBLE!" There was a flash on the sensors, where the ship heading back into the nebula fired a spread of something big, causing the burning ship's core to go critical when it hit.

    "Infected, wasn't she?" Eialu said. "Covering their track...but analyze the waves off that shot--before she critted the core...and stay on that trail."

    "I've got it." she muttered, though the radiation flare from the transport's core blinded the ships own sensors--fortunately the probes were able to get enough to compensate "he's definitely headed into the cloud. Course don't think his shields will work to well in there..."

    "Drop a couple squeakers set to zeta sideband burst," Eialu said. "At least that way, our folks will know when we get popped."


    Tiburon

    "Confirmed from the Qul, shot's fired!" Pakray announced. "They're dropping beacons-"

    "Where'd the baddies go?" LaRoca demanded.

    "In the heart of that cloud..." Pakray frowned at his scanner. "Sir, I'm pretty sure we do not want to go in there."

    "Relay back to the Eli'jaH, amplify the Nighthawk's scans, and tell the Qul we have their back," the Admiral ordered. "Sticks, circle us around that cloud, about ninety degrees behind the Qul's orbital, Z-minus ten klicks.."

    "Gonna try and flush 'em back out to the heavies?" Marq asked.

    "That's the general idea. Unless they're stupid enough to come straight for us... Be ready either way, people."


    IKS Qul'wov'Ha

    "Prep six rumblers for delayed activation, we're dropping them along the three to twelve o'clock range, low to high, engine sound...Negh'var," Eialu said, "Vorcha, K'Tinga, Qin, Qin, Hegh'ta and K'Tinga."

    "Done, we're down to another six, Sir," Kincaid said as he fired them off. "They didn't stock you with a lot, guess they didn't figure you'd get into a fight."

    "Six KDF vessels plowing into their hidey-hole should spook them," Eialu said. "Or make them come out looking for a fight."

    Meanwhile, Sanjit was scanning what else she could find as they followed their quarry--it was always a good idea to know what you were flying through in a situation like this. most of the sensor gear was more tactical, but there were a few more scientific instruments... "Uh oh."

    "What do you see, Sanjit?" Eialu didn't miss the 'uhoh' at all.

    Eli'jaH

    "Well, Mr. LaRoca, they're either very smart or very dumb," Koldor mused into his viewer.

    "Maybe some torpedo bursts will convince them that we're really coming in after 'em," LaRoca suggested.

    "Hmm. Do you have any ideas on how to make that persuasive?"

    "Well, I have this little button on my ship that spits out about forty-eight photons in all directions..."

    "That doesn't sound particularly cautious."


    Tiburon

    "Really," sir?" Pakray groaned.

    "The AEGIS manifolds should be whisper-quiet under all that racket," Marq said.

    "That's what I'm thinking," LaRoca said. "Sticks, pull us in, up and through that rumbler formation in an outside bank, best speed you can make through the cloud. Zain, rig the TPDS to track plus five clicks in front of the rumblers and stagger-detonate."

    "That should certainly get their attention," Koldor grinned.

    IKS Qul'wov'ha
    "If I'm reading this right," Sanjit muttered, "I think this is Metreon gas in here?" she said, highlighting the clouds on the screen.

    "Reduce the gain on the sensors by fifty percent," Eialu said. "And look for detonation shadows."

    "Eh...detonation shadows?" Kincaid asked.

    "Rumblers are noisy across the band--the K'Tinga setting's pretty noisy on it's own." Eialu said, "If these guys think they're surrounded they'll try and make a break--that means shooting--to trigger the gas."

    "Proximity warning!" Kincaid shouted as the console lit up. "Looks like...frack, mines...

    "Brace." Eialu said, glancing over at the engineering' station, "Boost SI fields and everyone hang on."

    "SI at maximum, seat belts fastened and tray tables in upright positions!"

    "Activate...photonic Decoys NOW...and open fire on the gas. Make it look like the group is clearing a path...and drop sensitivity another fifty percent."


    Near the center of the nebula

    "We're picking up a definite Klink battlegroup, Sir."

    There was a pause , as the bridge crew looked at the commander. "Prep the portal, jump us home. We've enough data for now... and when they get in range, detonate the minefield."


    Tiburon

    The universe was exploding. Forty-eight photon warheads in a 600+ppm metreon gas environment has that sort of effect.

    "I TOLD you we did not want to go in here!"

    "Shut up, Pakray!" Jesu, Marq and Sticks ordered together. "Ming! Dump every bit of power not in the engines into structural integrity," LaRoca added. "And do I have to mention: ALL HANDS BRACE FOR IMPACT!!"

    "Mine field ahead!"

    "Mierde... Zain, full torpedo spread, proximity det, clear our flight path!"

    "This is gonna hurt!" Pakray yelled.

    "It's gonna hurt those chingaras back there a lot more..."

    As the photonic fleet neared the field, there was a huge blast, as first one then the next mine detonated, a chain reaction from the edge of the field inwards. The gas clouds detonated as well, the force of the blast having the side effect of blowing a lot of the stellar debris from the nebula in all directions, both hindering and helping scans. There was larger pieces in there as well, possibly hulks of other ships, earlier victims that were ripped apart by the explosions and sent flying. As the last of the gas went, there was a view for just a second, the ship they were chasing disappearing through some sort of portal near where the center of the nebula was, or well, where it used to be...


    IKS Qul'vov'ha

    She'd never been in a washing machine on spin cycle, but Sanjit thought this is what it must be like as the bird of prey rattled and bounced through the shockwaves. Red lights were on all over the boards, fortunately nothing major, her stomach on the other hand...at least the gravity was going away from anyone else when she threw up. "Sorry," she muttered, as she clung to her console with both hands.

    Eialu rode the bucking, shaking thundering noise with barely concealed alarm and a sense of "What the **** did I just do?" . She knew what she did-just...she pulled the barfbag out of her armrest in time to contain what HAD been her breakfast before it splashed across the bridge...She managed to hit "Record" on the sensor-echo logs and visuals...but the systems would have to be piece-record edited to make sense of the data.


    Tiburon

    "Well it's gonna take me at least half a week to get the warp coils realigned," Cmdr. Domingo reported from engineering. "And the impulse injectors are basically fried. So forty-eight hours to get us moving period. Oh, and the aft-lower ablative armor is now about six mils thinner, and we'll need another new coat of paint."

    "Thanks for holding her more or less together, Ming," Jesu sighed. "Maria?"

    "Sixty-eight minor injuries, thirteen serious, nothing permanent," the CMO announced. "The laboratory people once again request a little more than two-seconds warning to brace for impact. And you owe me a good breakfast tomorrow for keeping me up all night."

    "You got it. Fozz, what's the hangar bay look like?"

    "Uh, Hunter said to say that Godzilla versus Tokyo should sum it up for you."

    "Right. Good thing those Peregrines are all modular... No real hurry getting that sorted out--I want one operational division with launch access by end of Gamma shift. Koldor, would you be willing to hang around a few days to keep an eye on us?"

    "Only if I receive an invitation to breakfast as well," the grinning Klingon replied.

    "I'd definitely recommend the Bacon," Missy said. The Nighthawk had picked up a piece of debris through the saucer section, no fatalities fortunately, but bad enough they had to go to the yard to get it fully repaired. "Ambassador, how's best to contact you when I get ahold of Schrodinger?" They weren't able to track where the aggressor came from, nor where it went...just that it was a dimensional portal that collapsed shortly after the blast wave. Fortunately, Travis knew someone who was probably one of the best minds in the quadrant on those, and who also owed her a favor...

    "Contact your embassy on Qo'nos, this has gone on long enough that there will be official notice more than likely. Just remember to wear the right uniform," he said with a grin. "We'll find where they come from, and destroy them."

    Nighthawk

    "It was good shipping with you Kincaid, Hopefully next time it will be in something...newer," Eialu said over the channel. "Good luck on the rest of the mission."
    "Where will you be?" Kincaid asked.

    Eialu shrugged. "2nd Reserve Battlegroup's been activated, I'm now supposed to report there for assignment as XO on another Carrier--The IKS Fierce Defender of the Pack, Vo'quv class, the CO is a Ferasan."

    "We've trained with a couple of them, a bit stand-offish, till they get to know you," he said with a nod.

    "But they're FANTASTIC pilots," she said. "I sometimes wish I had been born a Ferasan...then I stop drinking."

    He just chuckled. "You are what God made you to be, but sometimes it takes a bit of searching to discover just what that is."
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited October 2013
    Episode IX: Distant Early Warning

    The world weighs on my shoulders
    But what am I to do?
    You sometimes drive me crazy
    But I worry about you

    I know it makes no difference
    To what you're going through
    But I see the tip of the iceberg
    And I worry about you?

    Rush Distant Early Warning



    Earth, Paris. Six weeks later

    The conference room was sealed, only level 15 and above security clearances allowed in. It was not even listed as being ongoing. A bit much Jesu thought as the Admirals and Ministers looked over his report on the Denali situation.

    "Let me get this straight Admiral...they built a thirty meter tall statue of ****ing KHAN and you didn't bomb them back to the stone age?!"

    "If you read the report Admiral Fitsimmons," he replied. "We built that statue. They did not. It was designed, financed and put up by Colonial Development."

    "How do we know this for a fact?"

    Jesu suppressed the urge to sigh. "Page three, the data came from the consulate's own computers, Minister."

    Admiral Quinn sighed. "Either way, admirable restraint NOT bombing them flat, LaRoca...I'm not sure Timmins or Fitzsimmons would've held back." he added.

    Vice Admiral Timmons straightened up. "HEY! I don't like the comparison here--I'd have at least asked them to take it down first...and I would've ONLY bombed the statue." a few of the committee chuckled-Mark Timmons was a known firebrand.

    "Bombing anything would have pushed them into the welcoming arms of the Empire," Jesu stated. "Then instead of a pacifistic planet that's a little better than neutral towards the Federation, we'd have sixty million, or less depending on how many survived, screaming augments signing up for the KDF."


    "As I said, good thinking, LaRoca." Quinn said. "The bigger problem is, of course, how this is going to shake with the press."
    "NO, bigger problem is Colonial Development funding this...boondoggle," Timmons said. "Those TRIBBLE at CD have already cost three worlds in my sector, and there's seven more sitting on the fence--it's like the agency's a ****** front for the Klingons."

    "Indeed-" Fitsimmons looked through the report on her PADD. "The CD Rep committed suicide the day before the elections?"

    "And slagged her files as well." Jesu nodded "from what we figured, if it hadn't been for the Nighthawks, er, impressive display, the colony would have voted for the Empire..between that and the statue, Williams was probably expecting orbital bombardment, and decided to off herself before then."

    "Leaving the party early ahead of the rush..." Timmons said, "Admirals, Minister-ColDev is out of control, this seals it-I don't want those meddling TRIBBLE in my sector. Period."

    "You can't just kick them out, Mark." Quinn admonished, shooting a glance at the Minister.

    "Look...LaRoca saved the Federation's 'face'-the mess he didn't initiate leaves us with a planet of sixty some odd million augments who still want to be part of the Federation." Timmons stated, "That's sixty million some odd Augments that aren't trying their damnedest to assist the ****ing Klinks in conquering the Federation."

    "But they are trading with them!" Fitsimmons muttered. "Are they planning on stopping that?"

    "Then we boost our trade with them and price the klinks out." Timmons growled, "Jesus, did you FORGET how we handled the Cardies?"

    "I don't think it will be quite that simple" Jesu said "for the Denali, well about 43 percent of the population identifies as Sikh religiously. They see helping feed others as a duty, their trade with the Empire is in food that is sold at cost, plus their frontier mentality as their Governor put it. They won't let their neighbors starve, no matter who they are. Frankly" he said, "that's a lot closer to what the Federation claims our values are."


    "Oh, save us from men of faith!" Timmons rolled his eyes, "Sikhs are a huge portion of EARTH's population...well,not a big percentage, but I've had Sikh officers on my ships-that 'help' from a FEDERATION world could help turn the politics of the war around." Mark coughed a little bit, then wiped his chin. "I happen to agree that not letting people starve to death is a damn fine thing-even dirty ****ing Klinks...but the problem here, is translating that into a workable action plan." He coughed again.

    "Mark?" Quinn asked.

    "Just a little trouble..." the old Admiral said, "God I hate getting old."

    "Don't we all," The civilian who was heading this meeting just chuckled softly. "Colonial Development seriously dropped the ball this time. While they were added to my department, I never had official operational control over them, Interior kept their people in charge." Foreign Minister Cave just smiled grimly "I think it's time for a house cleaning."

    "Too right that." Timmons said, "I need to be excused." He coughed again, and his right hand rubbed aggressively at the left side of his chest. "Yeah...now..." he tapped his commbadge, "m-medical em-emergency..." his eyes squinted.

    People looked alarmed as the Admiral was beamed away, even Fitsimmons. huh, so she is human after all LaRoca thought. "Pobre viejo. I hope everything will be alright." He looked back to the room. "There is still the piracy matter as well."

    "A Klingon piracy problem," Fitsimmons said with a shrug.

    "Not when it's affecting a Federation applicant world, and someone is using bioweapons."
    Federation Councilwoman Ryoko Hibiki said.

    "Bioweapons that seem to target every species but humans..Are you sure the Klingons are going to keep that quiet?" Cave asked.

    "I believe so Minister," LaRoca nodded. "Ambassador Koldor is a man of his word..." There was a derisive snort from Fitsimmons direction, which Jesu chose to ignore "and furthermore, he knows we have as big a loathing for this technology as the Empire does. While he may think humans are behind it-he doesn't think the Federation is involved in any way shape or form."

    "The question is who is involved," Ryoko commented. "It's not Starfleet, and I doubt it's S31... so that leaves either renegades... or our 'counterparts' in the Mirror Universe--I remember hearing a report that they tried a massive invasion over near DS9 about a year back; who's to say they aren't still trying, only elsewhere."

    "That's all well and good..." Cave said, "but it is a bit too early to start pointing fingers. The Terran Empire, at last report, was in disarray after their Emperor was beaten back at DS9, I sincerely doubt that they'd have the resources to pull off something like this."

    "But the ship that was doing the attacking did go through a Dimensional portal," Jesu pointed out.

    "True, but, that is not the only alternate dimension out there," Fitsimmons said. "I know you've all been briefed on the 'Schrodinger incident' a few years back..."

    "Right..." Ryoko commented, her expression thoughtful. "Perhaps that could be a matter for Intelligence, and maybe the Diplomatic Corps, to sift through--if they can find another way to travel to some of those other realities, perhaps they can send teams through to see what those other dimensions are like... and if the inhabitants are... friendly..."

    "First we need to figure out just where it is... and I'd also recommend having Starfleet Medical go over that toxin to see if they can find a counter, or better yet, a preventative agent. Ambassador Koldor took samples to-"

    "What!?" Fitsimmons shouted, rising out of her seat "You let them have samples-"

    "It was used against Klingon civilian ship, in Klingon territory, Admiral," Jesu replied coldly. "If anything you should thank him for allowing us to have samples of our own to study!"

    She flumphed back down, muttering darkly.

    "Admiral LaRoca is right, Admiral Fitsimmons," Ryoko commented. "Because it was in Klingon Territory, the samples recovered would technically be Klingon property, so it is a good thing he allowed us to take some to study ourselves." She looked at Jesu. "I'm assuming there's some kind of agreement in place for sharing research notes? If we come up with a counter or preventative, it would be good manners to let them know, and vice-versa."

    "There is, we're already semi-working together against the Borg as you all know, if there is something that they come up with they will contact the Honor Guard on the Omega front to get the information to us, and we will do the same should we find a counter to this first."

    Ryoko nodded. "That's good," she said. "On another topic, I understand that the Denali... Greatmother, I think she's called... has come here to speak for Denali's behalf in person?"

    "No, just their governor," Jesu said.

    Cave looked at his watch. "Well as much as I would like to meet with her, I have an appointment with the President in ten minutes. This meeting is adjourned." With that the Ministers, and several of the admirals stood up and filed out of the doors.

    "Well, that was certainly rude of him," Ryoko commented. "As soon as I make mention of that, he adjourns the meeting and takes off."

    "Him and half the cabinet," Jesu agreed. He shrugged. "Maybe he's allergic to fur."

    Rear Admiral Mason cleared her throat. "Anyone want to do the Foreign Minister's ****** job for him now?" She was Timmon's right-hand. "Presidential meeting my skinny TRIBBLE." she rubbed at the part of her face that Starfleet Medical managed to 'de-assimilate'.

    "To be honest, I half expected this, thats why I suggested that Ms Kincaid just wait to be called if they wanted to speak with her. She's staying at the Andorian embassy, they've decent relations with them, and there's a group of Andorians that will be headed out there in another six months to a year, they're going to set up a colony on an island south of Vancouver."

    "I'd be happy to meet with Ms. Kincaid," Ryoko replied. "I'm of the opinion that we should accept Denali as a member, so meeting with their leader is all right in my book."

    "Councilwoman, I was hoping someone besides me wanted to meet her," Mason clarified. "You've got my vote, if it matters," she added.

    "Thank you," Ryoko replied. "To be honest, I'm also thinking of running for Minister Cave's job the next time elections come up--he's been in the spot for a long time, and part of me thinks he's up to some shady business, but I'm not sure what."

    "He's a politician, no offense ma'am, but 'shady business' is what THAT job's all about," Mason said. "I just want to meet the Governor--she came all this way and I wanted to see what kind of leaders out there produced someone like Melissa Travis, See if we can't get MORE like her..."

    Ryoko nodded. "I'll need to swing by my office, first," she informed. "I have a... long-term visitor who I'd like to have meet Ms. Kincaid, as well."

    Mason stood, and limped to the door with the help of a cane.

    Jesu opened the door for the Admiral and Councilwoman "I need to head there myself to check in with her before I leave if you don't mind me coming along."

    "Always a pleasure to have you along, Jesu," Adm. Mason said. "That way I can sit back and look stern and menacy..." she laughed.

    "Just make sure you bring a warm jacket, the Andorian embassy is a bit chilly. Not as bad as Denali was, but still..." he chuckled a bit. "I still feel cold sometimes, and we were there less than a week."

    "That is what we Admirals stuck in Staff billets have dog-robbers for," Mason stated, as a Lt. in working-uniform seemed to simply appear. "Jerry, we're going to visit the andorian embassy--would you be so kind, dear?"

    "Yes'm," 'Jerry' saluted, and dashed off.

    "Good kid, not very bright," Mason said. "He won't make it to Commander--he's sincere, just...he doesn't have what it takes to command.."

    Another officer in working clothes appeared--this one a female Bajoran, with Lieutenant Commander's Insignia on her uniform. "Fiona, I'm going to go to the Andorian Embassy for a bit," Ryoko said. "Do you think you could go and get Larcei from my office and bring her here?"

    "Sure thing, Ryoko," 'Fiona' replied. "I'll make sure she's properly bundled, too." 'Fiona' then took off.

    "My chief aide and bodyguard," Ryoko informed Mason and LaRoca. "She has the drive and skill to go much farther, but she's way too loyal to me--she's refused every single promotion offered after reaching Lieutenant Commander."

    Mason chuckled. "I knew a guy like that once...what was his name...oh, yeah. She'll come around, especially if you end up NEEDING her to."

    "To be honest, I like the loyalty," Ryoko replied, before blushing slightly. "And... to be even more honest, we've grown rather... close... over the past couple of years."

    "Just as long as her relationship doesn't interfere in her duties, Ma'am," Mason said. "Personally I don't see much interest in TRIBBLE the help." Outdoors, she lit a cigarette. "Junior Officers take these jobs to help their careers--it's like bedding a student....or an intern." She shook her head. "You should push your girl to promote before she falls behind her class."

    Ryoko nodded. "I'll talk to her about it," she said. "I don't know if she'll listen and accept the next promotion she's offered, but I'll at least make an effort."

    "You should," Jesu agreed. "It's not fair to her, nor is it fair to you."

    "Right...though, to be honest, she tends to take the bodyguard job more seriously than the aide one, and part of me is wondering if someday she'll resign as my aid and just focus on the bodyguard aspect."

    "It's possible, though again, it's usually not a good idea in my view to be in a relationship with someone under your command directly, at least in the fleet." He shrugged. "it happens, but usually on ships we just put them on different shifts, or under a different supervisor so that there's no question of favoritism."

    Ryoko nodded. "Right, I'll bring up these concerns with her as soon as I can, see if she'll listen," she said as they came into view of the embassy. The aide/bodyguard in question also ran up, carrying a bundle wrapped in plenty of cloth.

    "Here you are, Ryoko," Fiona said as she handed the bundle over to Ryoko.

    "Thank you, Fiona," Ryoko said as she took the bundle, and after Fiona left, she looked down at the bundle. "Hi there, Larcei," she said. "Sorry I wasn't around sooner, but you know how busy I can get."

    The bundle could be heard making noises...noises that sounded like the gurgles a baby made.

    Mason put her smoke out on the palm of her right hand, letting a slight wiff of plastic-smoke off. "Cute baby," she said. "I remember when my son was that age."

    "Thanks," Ryoko replied. "She's not mine... her parents are on the front, and felt leaving her with me would be safer than having her on their ship."

    "They're right," Mason stated. "I was on a Galaxy back in... '72?" she frowned. "Seventy. it was seventy--because we hadn't crashed it." She smiled at the baby. "Picard hated kids."

    "There are few ships anymore that do that, mostly dedicated exploration of hospital ships that don't go into danger? but, some people bend the rules," Jesu said, recalling his youth. "My brother and I grew up spacers, in wartime and all. It's definitely not the safest childhood? but not dull either."

    "Your example, and my boy Vic...she's going to end up in Starfleet too," Mason said with a chuckle. "No way to avoid it."

    "More than likely," Ryoko commented. They were just outside the Embassy now, and she didn't think there were any audio recorders... "Truth is, there's a bit of a secret involving my connection to her parents... can I swear you to secrecy on this?"

    "Dear, you just MET me...perhaps we can wait on tellin' each other's secrets," Mason said. "Not to be rude, but..."

    "I know, it's just... for some reason, I feel like I can trust you two," Ryoko said. "I can't explain it, but... I get that feeling from you two."

    LaRoca just laughed. "It's definitely not my charming smile, but they don't make diplomats out of people who can't be trusted."

    Ryoko chuckled. "Larcei's father would chalk it up to 'Spatial Awareness'," she said. "According to him it's a variant of telepathy some people have regardless of race, which can allow one to read someone's presences and intents."

    "I think you're just too trusting--remember, I'm 'wired for sound'," Mason said. "They got me out before the Collective turned my brains to mush, but..." she rapped on the side of the ocular implant. "I wouldn't call me a secure position for personal details you might not want someone to know, even with most of this TRIBBLE inactivated."

    "Right..." Ryoko remarked. "Though to be honest, it's not something concealed that deeply, just... not something openly talked about, either. One of those things where the connection is hidden simply so I can't be accused of favoritism, and so the others involved don't get any negative feedback from my career."

    "Well, whatever it is, a street corner in front of an embassy is probably not the best place to discuss it." With that Jesu led them up to the gate, where the guard checked them in and admitted them to the grounds. He'd left a jacket here earlier figuring he'd be coming back. Wasn't near as cold as Denali was inside the door, but still would give one frostbite if you wandered around underdressed. "Right this way," one of the embassy staff said, leading them back to a meeting room.

    It was about ten degrees above freezing in the room, though the Denali Governor was wearing a light blue skirt that was short enough to fit in on Risa. The Andorian Ambassadors antenna swiveled towards the door as they came up. "Ah, councilwoman Hibiki, it's a pleasure to see you again," Ambassador Thalev said, standing up politely.

    "How did it go Admiral?" Rachelle asked as she stood as well. LaRoca just shook his head. "Fine, up until the part where I asked if they wanted to meet with you...they scattered like a mouse in a room full of cats."

    She just shook her head. "I am not surprised to be honest."

    "Nor am I," Ambassador Thalev added. "We have been less than...happy with the foreign minister as of late."

    "You're not the only one" Jesu grumbled. "Still, he did say he had a meeting with President Okeg this afternoon."

    "Perhaps, come," he said, motioning them to chairs. "Have a seat, the governor and I were discussing an expedition to her world."

    "Well, hopefully we won't have to deal with Cave much longer," Ryoko remarked as she took a seat. "I'm going to be running for the position when the elections come around again."

    "To be honest, I do not know why you would want the job." Thalev said" it is a thankless task, but yet, I'd take a brain damaged-"

    "Pakled," Mason said. "A Brain-addled Pakled over Martin Cave." She nodded to the Ambassador. "Remember back when Starfleet did those jobs? Colonial Development, foreign affairs? We handed it over to the Council, and they put guys like Marty Cave or Durel Shaw in charge, and rope our hands behind our backs."

    "I remember" Jesu nodded. "We used to hate them at the time too, at least my dad did. Always listening to colonists complain...but it's better than things are now."

    Mason nodded her grey haired head. "I remember--you're Carlos' boy, right?"

    "Si, you knew him Admiral?"

    She smiled, "How old do I look?" she asked, "Not too many of us from that class still knocking around."

    "Young enough that I thought you were one of the children you mentioned on the Enterprise-D back in '70" he said diplomatically with a smile.

    "I had my first one on the Enterprise," she corrected him. "Victor was one of a couple hundred born on that first five year run..." she sighed. "I'm going to have to visit Arlington after this, it's almost his birthday."

    "I'm sorry to hear that," Rachelle said softly, the others nodding in sympathy. "It's never easy to lose a child, no matter the circumstances."

    "He went well," she said. "He saved his ship. They had to seal the remains--too radioactive to use a regular casket." She seemed to drift for a moment.

    "What happened to the ship?" Ryoko asked.

    She swallowed hard, and shook it off. "Vic was on his first tour--the USS Breckenridge, the yard made a mistake on the warp regulators...you should know this story...it was a casting mistake on the Dilithium Retention structure...at least, that was what we found on the post mortem...god, that was back in '93..." she sighed. "He went back in, and did a reweld. It killed him."

    "I remember that." Jesu nodded sadly.

    "Yeah..." Ryoko remarked sorrowfully. "I was a little girl then, but I still remember hearing about it... I heard that it forced them to rework the QA measures at the shipyards after that."

    "Damned right it did..." Mason said. "I've got a daughter who's probably a little older than you are--and with those two god said 'no more Deb'..." she sighed. "At least I still have the grandbabies."

    "Indeed, I was still in the fleet when that happened," Thalev added. "During the fallout after that, they found the same error in our ship before we had left the yard, and half a dozen others," he said sadly. "So he saved more than just one ship."

    "I think the then-CEO of Yoyodyne went to jail for that when it was all over." Jesu nodded.

    "Well...we tried," Mason said. "TRIBBLE inconveniently died before the trial."

    "So, Admiral," Ambassador Thalev said to change the subject, and hopefully the mood. "We are discussing a proposal to send a group of 2500 colonists to Denali. Our world, while not overpopulated, is still too built up for some, and an Earth sized world with only sixty three million people has plenty of spare room."

    Jesu blinked at that then just chuckled. "Well, if anyone could stand that climate there, Andorians could," he said in agreement. "Your world is a bit chilly for my tastes, Ambassador."

    "There are few who can appreciate it fully," Thalev agreed.

    Kincaid nodded. "Plus, with more direct contact with Federation worlds, our chances of admission rise as well."

    "That will likely take time though."

    She shrugged. "We've waited seventeen years, doing things CD's way. If it takes us a bit more, but doing it ourselves, all the better."

    "After reading the reports, I'm perfectly fine with your colony getting membership," Ryoko remarked. "If you still aren't a member if and when I get elected to Cave's job, I'll make that one of my main priorities--I feel like both our peoples can benefit from that."

    Jesu nodded. "You've seen my report," he said to those assembled, the Andorian Ambassador was on the list that was cleared to get it as well as the Vulcan and Tellarite ambassadors--all founding members. "While I still don't like genetic augmentation in theory, I can't fault your actions or behavior. The actions of one's ancestors should not damm their descendants."


    Utopia Planitia Shipyards, Mars, onboard USS Nighthawk

    Rin wasn't sure who was going to be the more upset. The captain when she got the news, or Bo'Dgok, when he got back from leave and saw what the ferengi had done to his ship. Well technically, debris from the minefield exploding had done it, but Chief engineers were fairly protective of their ships. Hopefully the Commander would be in a good enough mood when he returned from leave. Of course, they'd still be here even after he got back...

    Squaring his shoulders he buzzed the Captains cabin. "S'open!"

    It was chilly in there, Missy kept it at a comfortable for her temperature. "Be out in a min, Lt," she said from the other room, sounded like she was still in the shower. Great. "Did you get the yard's estimate on how long till they can get us up?" she shouted from the other room.

    Well, he thought, it's like the 208th rule of acquisition: Sometimes the only thing more dangerous than a question is an answer. "Seven to thirteen months, Captain."

    "What!?" he could hear the shower cut off and a scramble, fortunately she did manage out of reflex to grab a towel. "What the hell! You said yourself two, three weeks for that kind of damage."

    "Less than that with facilities like this" he said, diplomatically picking the robe up off of the back of the chair nearby and handing it to her while looking at the ceiling. "but it seems that we're scheduled for an SLEP in the next quarter, and being we're here...they're starting it now."

    Pulling on the robe she frowned. The Service Life Extension Projects were designed to overhaul ships every ten to fifteen years or service, this would be the Nighthawk's third, her keel having been laid down just before the end of the Dominion war. She knew it was coming eventually but the timing was about the worst it could possibly be. "Any way to get that put back?"

    "I hope so, they're scheduled to start defueling in a couple hours..."

    "Why in the hell did they push it up?"

    "Supposedly," Rin said, "They found unexpected structural damage when they scanned to replace the damaged sections on decks 11-13, as well as microfractures in the nacelle housings, and there's a couple of bulletins for Sovereign class cruisers that are mandatory fixes that we haven't been in the yard to get.."

    "I know but still..." she was looking around for her pants. "See if you can stall the yard crews while I get fleet on the line."

    "I'll do what I can Captain, but they've got two admirals already calling down wanting ETA's on moving crew to the temp quarters in the yards."


    Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth

    It was a secure channel, more secure than Starfleet even knew. There was the usual handshake hiss as the encryption verified. "Status report."

    "One down, one to go" Admiral Sandra Fitsimmons replied. "I had Quinn sign off on the SLEP with a stack of others, by the time Travis's protest reaches him, the Nighthawk will be defueled, disarmed, and partially disassembled."

    "Are you sure she won't just get another ship?"

    "Not if she wants to get command...under the, circumstances on her home world, BUPERS doesn't have anything available for at least the next ten to eleven months"

    There was a chuckling cackle from the other end. "Which ties her here until it's a moot point. What about LaRoca, that TRIBBLE is too smart for his own good."

    "He writes his own ticket, so we can?t just shovel him out of here. But he?s so wrapped up in ConOps, and such an ADHD case? something else will grab his attention inside of a week." She chuckled. "He'll be flying in circles up and down the Neutral Zone before you know it."

    "Out of the way. Excellent work Sandra, you are a credit to your race."

    She just smiled. "The Greatest joy is service."

    "Indeed. There's only a few loose ends to clean up, this was far too close..."





    Risa, late evening

    It was a beautiful evening, the moons shimmering over the water, fires of partiers in the distance, a lovely young thing awaiting him at one of those fires. Marcus Viella was a happy man, and more importantly, a free and anonymous man. He'd stashed latinum, and a false identity, while he never expected the Denali situation to progress as it had?his employers were, less than pleased with his results. As if it was his fault. LaRoca hated augments, it was well known. He should have bombed them into the stone age. Instead, he screwed everything up.

    Still, no use dwelling on the past. He was a free man, a new man! A new identity, an account full of latinum, a lovely Risan lass waiting for him--and someone grabbing him from behind, pulling him off of the path.

    "Hello Marcus," the gravelly voice whispered. The former colonial development head's eyes bulged out as he tried to speak, but the hand over his mouth, and more importantly whatever was in that hypospray prevented him from talking.

    "You were predictable, you know," Johnson Cave said as he carried the shorter man further into the brush. "Predictable and stupid, your greed nearly screwed up everything." Johnson's gear and clothing blended in well with the night. The island used to be volcanic, with old lava tubes cris-crossing the land. "In ancient times, someone who screwed up as badly as you have would have been expected to fall upon their sword." He was held on the edge of one of the lava tubes, only the black gloved hand of Johnson holding him from falling backwards.

    Marcus could only watch as Johnson reached behind him, pulling out a blue, crystalline looking knife, hilt wrapped in leather. "Which this isn't, but it does the trick in a pinch. It's a fang from one of the 'ice weasels' of Denali...only a handfull of these exist," he said. "Killing this one's owner was a pain, let me tell you." he suddenly thrust forward, the blade sliding up to the hilt in the paralyzed man's chest. He gurgled, his feet on the edge of the lava tube, then with a shove, Johnson pushed the blade further, releasing it, as the dying man bounced off of the rocks into the tube below. It would be months, if ever when the body was discovered, still he marked the location for future reference...one never knew when a piece of information could be useful to someone.

    Less than ten minutes later he was off planet, the shuttle breaking orbit and heading for deeper space. Once there was nothing within several dozen light years, he opened a private encrypted channel.

    Federation Foreign Minister Martin Cave smiled at his nephew. "How did it go?"

    "The traitor is dead, his body is well hidden,and if/when it is found, there is incriminating evidence to the Denali having killed him." he shrugged. "It is a shame to have to lose that blade though."

    "It's worth far more to us where it is than as a trophy."

    "True, So how is project Azrael?"

    Martin normally discouraged curiosity, but his nephew had found his true calling, and he would need someone to take over for him one day. "Still not ready yet...humans are not immune."

    "You'll get it down Sir, I know it's just a matter of time."

    "Of course we will," the minister replied "It's humankind's Destiny."






    End Part 1
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • knightraider6knightraider6 Member Posts: 396 Arc User
    edited October 2013
    ((thanks for reading, and many thanks to Patrickngo, Sander233 and Takeshi6 for their help and contributions to this! Could not have done it without you guys. Coming soon in season 2! The Minister makes a move, a Denali darts from danger, and as the Vulcans would say, the fecal matter impacts the air circulation device! :D ))
    "It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier." R.A.Heinlein

    "he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."



  • gulberatgulberat Member Posts: 5,505 Arc User
    edited October 2013
    There are a few species I would wonder about also being immune to the virus. The Terrans may be rather shortsighted if they think the Tholians wouldn't have a go at the vacated space. There would also be the Horta, on the Federation side. And let's not even discuss the Undine and the Borg...

    "Shortsighted" doesn't even begin to cover the people pulling the strings here. Hopefully that ensures they'll get their comeuppance.

    Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
    Proudly F2P.  Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
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