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<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, Enroute to the Earth System** | ||
+ | Seismic shifts to the galactic geo-political landscape not withstanding, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Normally, he'd have stopped, nodded to, or at least acknowledged the presence of dozens, if not hundreds of crewmen moving through the halls and crawlways of the ship as they went about their business. Now however, in the wake of Kevan Faro's death, and the ship's departure from Ananke Alpha, the near-empty ship only served to remind Carter of how much was missing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a surprisingly short trip from the turbo-lift shaft to his quarters, and the Martian XO barely slowed down to let the doors slide open before he slipped inside. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment later, the room was minimally lit with a warm yellow tone, long, full shadows accenting the room's closed spaces. John sat at his terminal, tapping a few commands when the ship's computer interrupted his train of thought. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter huffed in frustration. He was already working on borrowed time. Despite the fact that all it took was a few choice words, which John swiftly provided, he couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a few quick taps at the console, John accessed a restricted communications link to one of his least favorite people. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Why John Carter, as I live and breathe..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | John rolled his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Out of habit and practice, Meridian glanced over her shoulder. The dusty pink sky and rocky peaks in the background betrayed her location, and Chase was always wary of Vulcan observers to her conversations. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter leaned in, doing his best to keep his irritation at Chase out of his voice. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meridian' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter felt his pulse begin to rise, his face becoming flush. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the other side of the video link, Meridian blinked. With her, that was what passed for surprise. She cleared her throat. //"All right, John."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " One of your people is in trouble," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I heard,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Sean McTaggart. My former Tac..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You have seven of those."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | John grumbled. "He was running some Black Shirt Op on Farius Prime with Forrest when the Romulans nabbed him." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the mention of Forrest' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Look, Chase, I'm sure you and Forrest didn't see eye to eye, but Sean' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Chase shook her head. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meridian nearly chuckled. //"Oh, John. That's so cute,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"It means that Forrest screwed up, and he did it big enough and bad enough that no one's going to help him. He's cut off; from us, from you, from the Federation. He might as well not exist."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But Sean..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is collateral damage, John, "// she said simply. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The channel went dead, and Carter hung his head for a moment. Calling in a favor from Chase Meridian had been his last, best shot to do something for McTaggart. Now, if what she'd said was true, then John had to find a way to get to the middle of Romulan space, but beyond that he didn't know where to begin to search for his former crewmate. As he sat and brooded, he felt his pulse beginning to rise; a mix of anger and frustration moving through his mind. A quiet wash of photons broke him out of his loop of emotion. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon Harris appeared behind Carter and placed her hand on his shoulder. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter shook his head. "Not this time. This one caught me completely by surprise. I really had no idea that anyone would use the Freedom Star ambush against me like this." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The XO leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. "I thought that turning their attention to me would give me some leverage, maybe open an opportunity, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon thought for a minute, her other hand reaching out to rub Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | John shook his head. "I don't think Captain Roth could do anything that the Blackshirts couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon smiled. "Then let's talk to a Captain who has nothing to lose." | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Holodeck two, deck 10, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon nodded, then looked to her left, where she was pleased to see John had relaxed somewhat. "You mean the Mutara Nebula Affair?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jim Kirk leaned forward, inclining his head to look down his nose at the redheaded hologram. "Is that what they call it now?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon nodded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well that's damned disappointing. It was certainly more than an ' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, deck 1, USS Alliance**\\ | ||
+ | **Shiptime: 2230 Hours** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The three-armed being shrugged his two shoulders. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | DeVries tilted his head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John Carter. What did you do this time?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the other end of the line, Carter blinked, then felt a smile cross his face. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Smiling back to the Martian Commander, DeVries held up a hand. "Easy, Commander," | ||
+ | |||
+ | After what seemed like a lifetime, given the events of the last few weeks, John Carter smiled, allowing himself to recall his last Advanced Starship Tactics class; the teaching post he'd had on Earth before his transfer to Republic, where Alan DeVries was a reluctant, but eventually, star pupil. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | DeVries nodded. "Fair enough Commander," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter set his gaze grimly. //" | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Commanding officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your reputation proceeds you Commander Carter," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I appreciate your speaking with me, Captain."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "In my experience, Commander, there is very rarely a good time. However, I do welcome the diversion." | ||
+ | |||
+ | John allowed himself a small chuckle. //"As you say, Captain,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And you were hoping for some, professional advice?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter leaned in, resting his elbows on the desktop. He paused a moment remembering the phrase that his holographic adviser had instructed him to recite. //"The needs of the one outweighed the needs of the many, Captain Saavik."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | In classic Vulcan fashion, Saavik of Vulcan arched her eyebrow. " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: ch' | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the chime sounded on the communications station in his simple, but elegant, the elder, but still fit man attempting to meditate on his latest diplomatic strategy opened his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Saavik nodded. //"And you, Ambassador. I bring an unusual request, from a most unusual source."// | ||
Line 4834: | Line 4984: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | The main bridge of the exorbitant Galaxy-Class vessel had been an uncommonly lonely place during the past few weeks as the ship had embarked upon a clandestine mission. Since such had been complete, It had seemingly grown only more so. Those officers and crew still aboard her all had endured a burdensome existence for quite some time with nary the opportunity to take any down time. So as the noble vessel trekked homeward for the first in more than a years time, many of those aboard had taken advantage of the lull in activity to take things easy. | ||
+ | Such was not the case on this particular morning though, as the ship crossed the invisible and wholly imagined line that was given on three-dimensional star charts as the peripheral border for Terran system. On this morning, for the first time in nearly a months time, the whole of the senior staff were present and accounted for in their customary locations. Because on this morning, for the first time since the ship had been launched from the Utopia Planitia fleet yards in orbit of Mars, the U.S.S. Republic was coming home. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the center of the bridge sat Martian executive officer Commander Jonathan Thelonius Carter, his hands braced upon his knees as he leaned forward in his seat. In the seat mirror opposite of Carter with a more relaxed posture was the ship's hybrid Ship's Counselor, Lieutenant Commander Reittan Tolkath. Standing at the highest point of the bridge behind and between the two men was Chief of Security Zoe Leila Beauvais, attentively monitoring her consoles readouts despite the nearly non-existent chance of her tactical services being required. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Forward of the command arena upon the port side stations sat long-time assistant Chief Engineer Lieutenant Maria Pakita. Mirroring her post at the starboard side consoles was Chief Medical Officer and acting Chief Science Officer Leon Anderson Cromwell, his arms folded across his chest. At the starboard forward station was second officer and Chief Helmsman Lieutenant Nathan ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Completing the ensemble was Captain Kimberly Lynn Roth, commanding officer of the Starship Republic. Exiting onto the bridge from her ready room, the skipper took a moment to pause outside the threshold to admire the sight of her assembled senior officers with satisfaction as Master Chief Petty Officer Brad Rainer made his way up the narrow ramp to his post at the Damage Control station. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Moving forward once again, Roth approached the center seat - her center seat. As she did, her first officer stood from his own post and nodded in greeting to his commander. "All hands are on deck, ma'am. All departments report status nominal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Favoring her XO with a satisfied expression, Roth nodded in acknowledgment of his report as she took her place in the command chair. "Very good, Commander." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Checking his consoles readouts, the scruffy haired blond Lieutenant answered, "ETA from this mark... seven minutes." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning her focus towards the small command controls upon either arm of her chair, Roth reviewed the status reports that had been filed by each department head earlier in the day. Taking note of one in particular amongst them, she directed her focus to the port side of the bridge. "I see the new holo-system bypass is finally available, Miss Pakita?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning in her seat, Pakita nodded in the affirmative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stopping the younger woman with a raised hand, Roth nodded in understanding. "No need to explain, Lieutenant. It wasn't exactly priority one, not with the engines in the shape they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you like, we could give it a quick test ma' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a single affirmative nod, Roth acknowledged, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Entering a sequence of commands into her console, the familiar form of the ship's emergency medical hologram appeared behind Pakita at the engineering station. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Just testing out a new upgrade, doctor." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Less than a second after the words had left his mouth, Doctor Shannon Harris materialized in the center of the main bridge, and favored Carter with a pleased look. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, it's a bit of a fix to the barn door after the horse has come home, but at least it works." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dismissing the EMH, whom was promptly deactivated, | ||
+ | |||
+ | A comfortable quiet fell upon the bridge for the next few minutes, as each individual considered the past year and change. It had been far from a pleasure cruise, or from uneventful. Both individually and together, they had all faced their fair share of challenges and hardships. Now, the future that was spread out before them was even more of an unknown than normal. What awaited them for certain was repairs and debriefings. What was less certain was whom amongst the crew would be remaining aboard for such, and whom would be rotated to new assignments. Though requests could be made as to such both by the individual and their superiors, it was by no means a guarantee that such would be granted. For many, this ship and the individuals aboard her had become a home away from home. And leaving home was never easy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Upon the wall-sized forward view screen, a small pin-prick of light at the center of the screen began to grow larger. When it was the size of a small coin, it's blue hued oceans wrapped in wisps of white clouds became discernable. Within a matter of moments, it had blossomed to the size of a humanoid head, and the familiar contours of its continents began to come together. To its upper left, another light appeared - the distant but gargantuan form of spacedock, in stationary orbit above the planet. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the sphere dominated nearly a quarter of the view screen, the rocky gray satellite responsible for its tidal forces began to rise from behind it. It was an image that all had seen a dozen, or a hundred, or even a thousand times in their lives. Yet it was one that seemed never to grow less awe inspiring and welcome to either human nor alien alike. It was the capital of the United Federation of Planets, the base for all Starfleet Operations, and the home world to mankind. A world that had overcome it's all that had once divided it: race, religion, ideology, nationality, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The planet known simply, even quaintly to it's native populace, as Earth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How beautiful it was..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A little over eight years." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Has it really bin that long?" Hawk asked rhetorically, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That beats my record of five years," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know, in my entire career, I've never spent more than three years without coming home for at least a visit." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Chiming in from the Operations console, Ensign Cail remarked, "The longest I've ever been away from Bajor was my first two years at the Academy." | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the main viewer, the blue orb that was the crown jewel of the Federation now encompassed more than half of the display. To the upper left quadrant, the distinctive mushroom-shaped form of Starbase 1 -- more commonly referred to as ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The monstrous facility was the equivalent of a city amongst the stars at over twenty-seven-hundred decks in stature. It housed and was operated by a crew compliment of over eighty-five-thousand Starfleet personnel. In addition, it supported a civilian compliment of workers and guests that could balloon and shrink between one-hundred-twenty and two-hundred-forty-thousand individuals. Capable of accommodating up to two-hundred starships and three-thousand small craft at maximum capacity, it was the hub of interstellar activity for the whole system. In the whole of the eight-thousand-light-years that comprised Federation space, only five-dozen facilities of its type existed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Originally, the first of it's kind had been Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On this return though, the Republic would not be amongst the dozens of ships and thousands of people to call spacedock home base. The damage sustained to their engines at the hands of the Dominion during their time in the Gamma Quadrant would require a more dedicated facility to tend to. Amongst the hundreds of orbital habitats, skeletal shipyards, and lesser satellite stations was their destination: | ||
+ | |||
+ | After entering into a standard orbital approach path, Lieutenant Hawk promptly adjusted their course and speed from their to put them on an approach to McKinley. On the forward viewer, the facility itself was already in view. Unlike many of the more common skeletal frame-works that served for repair and refit, these Earth station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Open hailing frequencies, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Punching in the appropriate commands, the Security Chief complied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Earth station McKinley, this is Captain Kimberly Roth of the Starship Republic, requesting permission to dock." said the Captain. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes ma' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Within moments, they were passing a mere three hundred meters below the lower portion of the station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In less than two minutes, the entire process was complete. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you, McKinley. Republic out." replied Roth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A moment after the words had left her mouth, the last and least pleasant phase of the operation was completed, as all around the bridge, the command and control consoles lost various aspects of their functionality as McKinley assumed those functions. All but one of the aft bridge stations deactivated completely, followed shortly by the weapons systems and shield controls at tactical, warp drive and structural integrity control at engineering, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well folks, I'd say that's all she wrote for now. We all have our duties to attend to, lets get to them." said the captain. " | ||
Line 4840: | Line 5088: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: "The Triangle" | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | Strictly speaking, Calder II was a Federation Protectorate. Not big enough to be a colony, or rich enough to be a viable target for mining. The planet was technically Class M, but it was far too dry for Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The thing about Calder II was that it held secrets. As a result, it tended to attract people who did the same. His annoyance growing, Shen pulled up the sleeve of his ballistic weave flyer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shen to Tranquility." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the tell-tale squelch of a point to point laser comm., a lilting soprano giggle came over the comm. channel. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen shifted in his pilot' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You sit. You wait. Or the Captain will dock your share. Got me?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen leaned back again, kicking his feet up on the small shuttle' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pilot shook his head. "Small favors I guess," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Thief, explorer, general troublemaker; | ||
+ | |||
+ | An instant later, the hatch hissed open. Shen leaned his head out, just enough to confirm the speaker' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen squeezed off one more disruptor shot, then let the hatch slide shut and seal. As he backed his way into the control cabin, he called back to the passenger. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the cabin, Vash rolled her eyes fighting the urge to smile. She'd learned not to take threats too seriously. Everyone yelled when they were upset. Very few were as bad as they said once they'd calmed down. The one's that were? Didn't stay in business too long. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a speed that scarcely matched the battered shuttle' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In seconds, the shuttle broke atmosphere, and Shen breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his mother ship, the private freighter Tranquility Maru, hanging in orbit...the shuttle deck was open to space, landing lights blazing against the cold black. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A quick look at the sensor display confirmed to Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the pilot' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen looked back and scowled, shrugging his shoulder to move Vash from being what he considered too close. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: SS Tranquility Maru, en route to Klingon space**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Samantha Jean Karisnky looked over her status board. As the second-in-command of one of the least known, least respected trader vessels in the Triangle, she was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the ship, a lot like an Operations or First Officer would be on a larger ship. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At this moment, the, compact, but fit human female was making her way aft, to the galley. She paused before entering the crew space, brushing a crinkly blue curl from her eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the Galley, Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen choked down the last of his (badly) re-sequenced raktigino and set down his mug. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sam crossed her arms over her chest. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen leaned forward. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sam nodded, her wild kinky curls bouncing like an old-fashioned Terran bobble-head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Life as a freelance spacer was hard enough. It was worse when your captain was also your mother, and knew when to make the difference clear. Shen t' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Bridge, SS Tranquility Maru** | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a different time, a different life, Tranquility' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Fate would have it, revolution did come, and eventually, the disgraced Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | That chain of events meant that the Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk and Spock. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Just thinking of the smug pair made her passions flare. She'd wanted them dead, though only one of them was. Now however, Spock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was this reluctant scene that Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The helmsman stood with his hands on his hips. "The hell we are! Gruff finally got this ship working again! Besides," | ||
+ | |||
+ | At that moment, the ship's red alert sounded and over his Commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander pivoted her chair. "Good, they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen looked at his mother, then back to the screen, silent. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander walked toward the bridge hatchway, pausing to put a hand on Shen's shoulder. "Time to go home. A visit long overdue." | ||
Line 4846: | Line 5184: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Sector 33, Eight periods out of Epsilon Draconis (Romulan Neutral Zone)**\\ | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | Against the black backdrop of space, nearly two-dozen elongated gray shapes slowly plowed the vacuum between stars towards an unknown destination. Each silhouette was composed of over one hundred evenly-spaced interlocked cargo modules held together with a backbone dorsal superstructure that held aloft a pair of warp nacelles and interlaced machinery platforms. Spanning nearly a third of a kilometer long, these ships did not contain any sign of habitation compartments, | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the lead of this austere fleet was a vessel class well-known throughout the space lanes as a Midway-Class Cargo Carrier; one of the few freighter classes actually operated by Starfleet proper rather than independent merchants. In service since the early part of the 24th century, they were manned with a crew of about twelve officers, and outfitted with standard light weaponry and moderate shielding for Federation missions outside the standard commercial lanes. This vessel class boasted the signature Starfleet saucer section, but also possessed a stretched secondary hull composed of a pair of huge cargo bulkheads that terminated with the usual dual-paired warp nacelles. The hull of this particular ship displayed the stenciled letters " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Onboard the tiny bridge of the cargo vessel Liberty were four console stations, a captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I just don't get it," the young, twenty-something ensign in command red commented at the helm station. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Seated in the command chair was a lantern-jawed senior officer with a receding hairline, carrying with him the air of a seasoned spaceship commander. It was none other than Captain Gerald Harding the Third, a grizzled officer who, after a long stint as an academy professor, followed his call to the stars by relegating himself to meager postings to sate his adventurous spirit prior to retirement. Raising an amused eyebrow, the captain responded to the helmsman, "And you don't think a mere freighter has any place in the greater purpose of Starfleet? Ensign, this fleet represents one of the first major trade missions between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. Isn't that important enough for you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe that's alright for a veteran who's capping off his career," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "These ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As long as it's not ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You may yet get your wish, ensign," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Put it on speakers," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ensign at the helm grunted with displeasure. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Easy there, ensign," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Frustrated, the captain rubbed his forehead in thought. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir," the lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir!" the youngster smiled, happy to finally utilize some of his academy training. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | Within twenty minutes, the fleet of robotic Starfleet freighters, together with their manned lead vessel, the USS Liberty, closed the gap between the ion storm and their original position prior to embarking upon the mission to rescue the stricken spaceliner. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "All shields to maximum," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "There it is!" exclaimed the young helmsman. | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the large screen at the front of the small and cramped bridge, wispy luminescent clouds of hydrogen ions danced off the hull of a gleaming silver space vessel with a plethora of viewports and observations domes scattered its surface. The sleek shape was vaguely reminiscent of a Sovereign-Class starship, yet instead of deflector arrays and torpedo launchers, luxury shuttle bays and docking stations for personal craft adorned the crisp, clean superstructure. Emblazoned on either side was the livery of Galactic Cruise Liners, and the vessel' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the distorted images flickered from the ionic disturbances outside, over a dozen fuzzy elongated shapes came into view out beyond the space-liner' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What are those?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "They look like ore freighters," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Do it," remarked the captain as he tapped a button on his armrest. A boatswain whistle sounded over the intercom as he opened the the channel to the rest of his dozen or so crew aboard the manned freighter. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the screen in front, numerous pin-pricks of light were swarming around the distant freighter echoes, growing brighter and more luminescent as they grew near. Their flight path was erratic, but one thing was clear: They weren' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, luminous streaks of yellow light heralded the arrival of numerous honeycombed-shaped fighter craft, each on a direct collision course with the Liberty. The shields of the cargo carrier barely glimmered as the suicidal craft punched gaping holes in the energy field, impacting on the hull shortly afterwards. | ||
+ | |||
+ | One fighter impact released enough antimatter comparable with a photon torpedo from a Galaxy Class starship. One explosion alone might have limited the damage enough for the Liberty to escape her fate. Two were enough to cause grievous harm to many of her vital systems. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Listening Post Morena, Sector 31** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Slowly orbiting a distant gas giant star, a cylindrical vessel with a multitude of solar arrays and communications antennas drifted steadily forward on its wide, circular course through space. The half-kilometer long structure housed many lighted portals and viewports, and the top end terminated with a crowned dome that signified a definitive command deck in the traditional Starfleet bridge design. Within the station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | One console in particular incorporated a large monitor with the familiar LCARS digital border, and contained the title "ION METEOROLOGY: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Focused on this spectacle was a red-bearded lieutenant in operations gold, whose face was filled with concern and consternation, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Behind him, a commander with short curly black hair crossed his arms in frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shall I send out a general distress call for a rescue ship?" asked the lieutenant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I doubt they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At about that time, the long range sensor console lit up. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Liberty?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Same size, sir," the lieutenant at the ion meteorology scanner remarked. "Just no subspace communications uplink or navigational transponder code." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The console warbled as several computer-generated pixels emerged from the storm front on the screen ahead. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "More contacts, sir," the officer jumped on his controls. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But still no communications?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Raising his eyebrow in thought, the lieutenant turned to his superior. "The ion surges in the storm could have damaged their transmitters." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Comm, see if you can raise them on guard frequencies." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The carrier channel?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes sir," he remarked. "And they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On speakers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The spaceliner Golanda is safe, but it suffered major damage to engines, power, and central computer services. We're going to give her a tow to sector zero-zero-two-five-eight."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is your condition?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"We have minor damage to our flux chillers and deflector emitters, but the most notable impacts were to our computers and communications systems. We've still retained remote control of the drone freighters, but the storm overloaded our Chamber' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The officer looked back to his superior, his eyebrow arching in realization that his previous conclusion about a communications outage was correct. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "With only their beacon, that explains the lack of a navigational network uplink," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The lieutenant carried out his order and re-opened the channel. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | A silence persisted for about five seconds before an answer came. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The Coridan ore processing station."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The commander nodded. "As good a place as any. Record the change in the navigational tracking network." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, unregistered ore freighter, sector 11** | ||
+ | |||
+ | "...We will reset our transponder beacon as directed, and implement repairs as soon as possible. Liberty out." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The half-Romulan, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took only a few seconds of gawking at the screen before a wide smile crept across the communications officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Put me on speakers to all vessels in the fleet." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding to the communications officer, the channel closed, and Shavis turned back towards the command chair. However, before he could sit, a new comm signal chirped, and the officer announced, "new signal from one of our ships, your highness." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis nodded to indicate his wish to open a channel. On the screen, a lanky, grizzled old Klingon with a scar across his cranial ridge stared back with penetrating eyes. Although Klingons aren't known for smiling on a regular basis, this particular one showed no sign of having ever smiled, and simply glowered towards Shavis with tired, resigned eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is it?" asked Shavis coldly. "And it better be good." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"My ship's engines were damaged during the ion storm,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis felt the burning rage inside him. Glaring with his ebony black eyes, he watched the warrior on the screen reach for his sacrificial blade in anticipation of his own death at Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"We can go as far as Benecia Colony."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis smiled. It was perfect. One of the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then Benecia it shall be," concluded Shavis. "Go forth my friend, and show the humans that they no longer rule your people. Qapla!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"For the New Dawn,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Calmly, Shavis returned to the command seat and gave his next order. "Comm, contact the Gondola and freighters eight through eleven, and have them take up formation alongside us for the next leg of our journey. Send the destination orders to the rest fleet, and instruct them to disperse to their destinations as soon as they can get underway." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Right away, your highness," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
Line 4852: | Line 5391: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: IRV Darkwing, near Epsilon Draconis, Romulan Neutral Zone** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Though generally understood by the wider galaxy to mean ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | At Darkwing' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking at the screen, Charvanek nodded grimly. "I would prefer to, yes." She said flatly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then we have to go through the storm." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek set her gaze on the forward viewer. "In we go then." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The charged particles that made up an ion storm typically made warp travel impossible, and eddies and currents within the storm made relativistic travel almost as dangerous. Crossing the threshold of the storm the crew of the Darkwing braced themselves. While they were jostled and buffeted, no one on the bridge seemed worse for wear, and for the moment, the ship's systems stayed green. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the groans of stressed metal and other noise, Shen shouted for his captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rather than call for the image to be displayed, Charvanek keyed a control on the arm of her chair and showed it herself. On the ship's main viewer, a wide field of debris was also at the mercy of the ion storm. "Hmm, big." She commented. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | On most Romulan ships, the helmsman was in charge of steering the vessel and if necessary, firing her weapons. Navigators were tasked with charting and updating the ship's course, and unlike the Federation or Klingon navies, were also charged with making sense of the ship's sensor data. At this moment, a young officer named Kiska checked her display. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good luck finding those in this feldercarb." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Did the storm destroy them?" Charvanek asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska shook her head, her single tight braid of brown hair slipping over her left shoulder as she moved. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Again, Kiska shook her head in the negative. "The ore might have been valuable once processed, but not in it's raw state. Why would they bother?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was an odd flash of movement on the screen as Shen was again forced to pitch the scout ship down and to port. Though no one could see it, there was a smile on his face. Then he spoke up. "Did anyone else see that?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska brought her head up from the sensor display, her face screwed into a look of disapproval. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek leaned back in her chair, confident enough in her son's piloting skill. Her fingers flew across her own chair display. On the small screen, she called up the visible light data from Darkwing' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And then, there it was, just as Shen had observed. A piece of hull plating with visible markings. ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska lifted her head again, this time looking over her shoulder, back to the Captain. "With respect, Commander..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Commander almost smiled. ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And with that, the matter was settled. Darkwing would continue on her mission, and no other events would delay or deter the endeavor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: Personal flier ' | ||
+ | **Timeframe: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth rubbed his temples as he stared at the uncooperative computer screen. It had taken a sizable portion of his personal wealth to gain access to secured Starfleet PERSCOMM files, and now, they were apparently useless. He squinted again through his frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a fit of rage, Tomaleth balled his fingers into a tight fist and shoved it through the screen. There was a small electronic ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth spat out a curse as he pulled his hand from the shattered data unit. A few small shards of glass were stuck in his knuckles, and rivulets of dark green blood began to flow down his fingers. He screamed again; this time, out of pain, rather than anger. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the disgraced former officer stood up from his desk, the door to his room slid open. A frantic looking young Romulan stepped quickly into the room, waving the smoke from his eyes. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the far wall, Tomaleth was holding his hand under the refresher unit, trying to staunch the bleeding. He rolled his eyes as his annoyance began to boil over. "Calm DOWN, Veln!" He barked at the youngster. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Following his return to Romulan space, Tomaleth had been forced to call in every personal and political favor he'd accumulated during his thirty-plus year career in the Romulan Navy to keep from ending up on the wrong end of a disruptor squad. One of the favors he'd had to make good on was taking Veln t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln's father, an over-ambitious Senator with a talent for blackmail, but not much else, had dreams of bringing the Federation to it's knees by exploiting the corruption and vice that MUST have lurked beneath the UFP's all-too sterling exterior. The Senator saw Tomaleth as a means to an end, and had hoped that Veln would learn by doing. Sadly, the things Veln had done were more likely to see him as the victim OF blackmail, rather then profiting from it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of all the things that Tomaleth could say about Veln, at least the boy was loyal. Something, Tomaleth noted, that his father never had been. Tomaleth winced as his young assistant took his hand and tried to assess the wound. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Here, let me." Veln instructed as he tilted the older man's hand this way and that under the light. "What happened?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth grumbled. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked concerned at more than his mentor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth inhaled sharply as he pulled his hand away from the boy's attention. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln knelt down, looking under the refresher for a synthskin tube, standard on most personal craft of this class. "What do you mean?" He asked as he searched. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Does that Ferengi worm really expect me to believe that Carter' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finding the first-aid box, Veln stood up and set it on the corner of the refresher unit. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln nodded as he sprayed the contents of the tube across Tomaleth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But what?" Veln looked on, confused. "So, she doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "She doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile Veln stroked the bottom of his chin. "Then, it's a good thing you didn't kill the Earther." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth snapped out of his masochistic fugue. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Which I SHOULD have!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But since you DIDN' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth' | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: IRV Darkwing, entering the Rho Tucanae system** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen t' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska didn't bother to look up from the sensor display. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek nodded. "Just as it should be." The Commander moved toward the hatch to make her way toward the ship's ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You will confirm the location of the human, order battle conditions, and commence transport." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the Navigator' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen's shoulder' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you." Charvanek said as she left the bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A few seconds went by as Kiska alternated looking at the sensor display, then to Shen. More seconds went by before the dark-haired navigator spoke. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen kept his eyes on the viewer. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kiska felt her eyebrow arch. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shen simply nodded. "Oh, yes." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | In the flier' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a weak flinch, Sean McTaggart pulled his head away. His eyes flitted open. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln shook his head. "No, no Sean," he said calmly. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean McTaggart would have spit in the Romulan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | For his part, Veln looked genuinely hurt. "I don't blame you Sean." The Romulan pivoted in his chair and found a hypo-spray among the infirmary' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart nodded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Now Sean," Veln advised, pressing the hypo-spray to Sean's bare forearm. | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart heard the hiss and felt the burn of some sort of chemical entering his veins. His muscles strained against the straps at his wrists, but he could no more free himself than he could keep whatever it was the Romulan had given him from doing its work. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite his predicament, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln frowned. "So I've heard, but what about him? Why do you follow him? Why would you die for him?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart felt the muscles in his face relax. He didn't want to answer Veln's question, but he still felt his mouth opening to speak, despite willing it not to. "He saved my life." Sean said softly. "Gave me a chance. He...makes me want to do my job better. I don't want to let him down." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln nodded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course you are." Veln leaned back, turning to set the hypo back in its place. "But, you don't really think a man like him has friends, do you Sean?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You might be HIS friend Sean, but he's not REALLY yours, is he? Not like Virtus. Not like Dr. Harris. Isn't that so?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean shook his head. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well no..." Sean agreed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No Sean." Veln repeated, his voice more forceful and insistent. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | McTaggart repeated the phrase in whispers. To press the point, Veln moved even closer, whispering in Sean's ear. "You can still get out of this, Sean." He offered. "But I need you to do something for me. One small thing, and you can go home. You want to go home, don't you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then all I need you to do Sean, is..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before Veln could finish the sentence, the ship was rocked violently to one side. A second later, red alert sounded throughout the small craft. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Through his blurred vision, Sean McTaggart could see the infirmary' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a blur of motion, Veln got up from his stool. He stumbled as the yacht was rocked again by weapons fire. The young aide made it to the wall-mounted comm. unit and slapped the control. "Veln to bridge! What's happened? Are we...are we under attack?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Over the open channel, Veln could hear a number of voices on the bridge; all frantically trying to assess the situation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Aft deflector gone!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln's eyes went wide as he heard the unmistakable swish-chime of a Romulan transporter. Then, he thought he could make out the clank of metal on metal and screaming. Finally, he heard a voice he didn't recognize. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Then the channel closed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A woman?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth rushed into the room, locking the door behind him. He shot Veln an accusing look, then, grunted in self-loathing as he realized he'd left the control for the Earther' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth needed something sharp, but simple. His eyes scanned of a laser scalpel, a dermal regenerator, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Looks like I get to kill you after all, Earther." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, Sean McTaggart felt his emotions swing wildly. A moment ago, he'd have done anything, said anything, to go home. Now though, he was going to die. He smiled as he realized he'd be going home after all, in a manner of speaking. "Looks like." | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was another shake of the ship and the lighting in the infirmary flickered. Veln braced himself against the bulkhead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth whirled, brandishing the weapon at his young aide. "For once in your besotted life, boy, BE QUIET!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln threw up his hands. "Well you can't kill him now," he pleaded. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Tomaleth cackled with grim determination. "I WILL kill him now, BECAUSE it's too late." He explained. "And if you're not careful, you'll be next!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The former Sub-Commander turned his attention back to his prey as the room was filled with a high-pitched whine, and the charge of a transporter beam. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln tilted his head as he tried to process what his eyes were seeing. He'd expected a human, perhaps with an eye-patch, if intelligence on Carter was right. Instead, he saw a Romulan female. She was of average height, and Veln could see from the pronounced ribbons of grey in her black hair that she had to be over one-hundred and twenty years old. Despite her age, the intruder seemed ready for whatever awaited her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked her over, hoping for a sign of rank or affiliation. He found none. The woman was wearing a civilian model vacuum suit marked with red seams. She could have been anyone from any of a dozen trading ports in this sector alone. Apart from her obvious age, the only thing that gave any clue to her identity was the disruptor pistol in her right hand, and the sword in her left. Veln recognized the sword as the ceremonial weapon of a naval officer, though that tradition had long since been abandoned. The sheen of green blood on the blade also told the young man that this particular weapon was anything but ceremonial. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, Tomaleth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek didn't answer. She simply leveled her disruptor and fired. The yellow beam that shot from the weapon impacted Tomaleth square in the chest, and as the disruptor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know EXACTLY who you are," she said with surprising calm. "And I don't care." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a simple flick of her thumb against the side of her pistol, Charvanek shifted the weapon to it's highest setting, took aim, and fired. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was a brief orange flash, and the unmistakable smell of charred flesh and bone as what was left of Tomaleth (which wasn't much at all) fell to the deck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shocked by what he had just seen, Veln felt his temper flare. He clenched his fists and threw himself at his mentor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Veln looked down and blinked as he saw the strange woman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Charvanek pulled her weapon from the young Romulan' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The dead Romulan fell to the deck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still strapped in the chair, with an impressive view of what had just happened, Sean McTaggart choked out weak laugh. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without a word, his mysterious rescuer moved swiftly to unbuckle his restraints. Then she took hold of him under the arm, pulling him up. "Can you walk?" From her tone of voice, it was a rhetorical question. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean leaned on the thin woman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good to know." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean's rescuer pressed a finger to her ear, activating her comm to Darkwing. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sean breathed easier as he considered what had just happened. He felt the beginnings of a transporter field as he turned to the woman to whom he owed his life. "Is Commander Carter with you?" he asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | An instant later, they were gone. | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | \\ | ||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, Berth 2, McKinley Station, Earth System** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Republic had been home for five days, passing inspection and accepting crew, both new and old. Meanwhile, John Carter had busied himself with the considerable job of returning his ship and the people on it to operational readiness. He didn't lack for things needing his attention, and he had managed to keep up appearances fairly well, but if he was honest with himself, his attention was elsewhere. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was in his quarters, during a momentary lull in activity at 1532 hours, that an encrypted message found it's way into the XO's queue. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Carter felt his pulse race as he leaned forward and entered the cypher to read the message. John was surprised to note that the dispatch was text only; a mark of Starfleet Intelligence. Despite the source, he smiled as he read the contents: | ||
+ | |||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | **John- | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Don't know how "Your Man" ended up at 39 Sierra. Don't WANT to know. Medical reports him in reasonable shape. Psych Eval pending. He says "Thank You." | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | Just when I think you can't surprise me. | ||
+ | \\ \\ | ||
+ | -Chase** | ||
+ | </ | ||
Line 4858: | Line 5713: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Command, San Francisco, North America, Sol III**\\ | ||
+ | **Date: Present day, stardate 58851 (6 November, 2381)** | ||
+ | The sun was shining on the western shores of the North American continent, where the deep blue waters of the Pacific Ocean met the rocky shores of San Francisco Bay. The rust-colored piers of the Golden Gate Bridge offered a warm coloring to the otherwise cool breeze blowing eastward into the city proper. In the distance, the tall pristine-white buildings of Starfleet Command presided over the metropolitan backdrop of towering skyscrapers and space-age structures, intermixed with antique buildings of yesteryear. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Kimberly Roth strolled leisurely down Market Street with her loyal animal companion, Smoke, draped over her shoulder. The growing red eyes of the squirrel-like mammal was content to stay perched, looking at the passing crowd with small twitches of its brown furry head and tufted ears. Strolling with them, was a taller, more seasoned Starfleet officer with the rank of rear admiral. Her short white hair glinted in the sunlight, illuminating it to a more silver hue, suggesting she was at least thirty years Kim's elder, if not more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I read your report from Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The rear admiral listened carefully, nodding in acceptance of her explanation. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim had the distinct feeling she was dealing with a " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Even still, there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Even if his Martian anger gets the better of him," Krockover explained. "Go easy. It's a lot to swallow." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The two stopped walking as Kim faced her senior officer with a very direct posture. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think you'll find that John Carter is unusually resilient to surprises these days," she concluded, as Smoke bleaked his two cents with an affirmative response. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | <WRAP center round box 80%> | ||
+ | **" | ||
+ | </ | ||
+ | |||
+ | Throughout the expansive Galaxy-Class bridge, only two of Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon only briefly took his eyes away from the PADD to answer the call from the junior operations officer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The repair crew from McKinley Station needs to access the plasma relays on deck eleven, so I need to take internal sensors off-line."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, doctor," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very good," Leon resumed his attention to the PADD. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sven couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John, you're supposed to be off duty," snarked Leon. "Why are you monitoring my bridge activity? For that matter, why are you even aboard? I'd expect you'd be packing your bags or something." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"If memory recalls, the captain said to ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor expressed a sour disposition as the channel closed, annoyed that John was baiting him. Much to the chuckling of Lieutenant Butenhoff, Leon sighed before he stood up and walked towards the turbolift. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You have the bridge, Sven... such as it is." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Triton observation outpost, Sol VIII (Neptune)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Triton, Neptune' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As hostile as this environment was, the natural rivers of super-cooled gasses were a boon to Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside the surface structure, five levels of habitation space allowed room for approximately a hundred Starfleet personnel. Their main priorities were to keep the outpost operational, | ||
+ | |||
+ | A young male lieutenant in command red manned the primary observation station situated towards the front of the room, while a half-dozen other officers kept watch over the other panels. While most of his work dealt with the standard sky-survey that took pictures of multi-spectrum swaths of space and analyzed it for anomalies, the passive infra-red sensor cluster was picking up a small set of six heat signatures approaching the star system. With his fingers dancing across his panel, the lieutenant accessed the telemetry and transponder uplinks, and seconds later, a display of the USS Liberty, the Spaceliner Gondola, and four other robotic freighters from Liberty' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What have we got here?" a confused lieutenant commander asked from the center of the room, turning his attention to the tactical display on the main screen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Wait a minute," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Maybe they had a change in their flight plan since our last computer synchronization with the navigational network," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a sigh of frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Silence followed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still nothing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The silence still persisted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Open a channel through one of the Neptune comsats," | ||
+ | |||
+ | While the lieutenant complied by focusing his attention on the communications panel, a furrow developed in his forehead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Which one CAN you pick up?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "None of them!" came the shocked response. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside the observation post, a constellation of stars in the Neptunian sky above wavered against the unmoving backdrop of the Milky Way. Similar to a flight of fireflies, the stars spun around in circles momentarily before shining brighter and brighter as they drew closer. In a split second, the stars revealed themselves to be a yellow flock of honeycomb-shaped fighter craft hurling themselves towards the ground at breakneck speed. Like a swarm of meteors falling from the sky, dozens of tiny luminescent vessels hurled themselves into the observation post and surrounding facilities. The multiple collisions not only tore through the domed buildings and shuttlecraft landing fields, but obliterated the sophisticated sensor towers and communication relays. As a secondary result, the solid methane crust below the once operational outpost erupted into huge columns of liquid nitrogen and ammonia, further devastating the ground on which the Starfleet facility once sat. In less than a minute, the attack ended, and the twisted, burning remnants of the outpost lay floating and bobbing in a sea of hissing ammonia. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deck 11, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Each deck of a Galaxy Class starship contained numerous power relays to ensure energy from engineering was transferred to the decks above and below in an efficient fashion. This redundant continuity of power, while life-saving during space missions and combat operations, had it's drawbacks when preparing the ship for a system-wide shutdown. It required that each relay be decoupled by hand, and the plasma conduits given enough time to cool down before removing other relays further downstream of the power flow. Put simply, it was a very slow process. As a disheveled Lieutenant Junior-Grade Klaus walked from relay to relay along deck eleven, the gold-uniformed operations officer grumbled about being the only member of the department left onboard while everyone else went on leave, including the current Chief of Operations, Ensign Cail Jarin. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As shown by Ensign Cail's recent promotion to Chief of Operations, his hopes had yet to be realized. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Strangely, the junior lieutenant chuckled as he opened a wall-mounted relay cover next to holodeck six, kneeling down to scan it with a diagnostics wand. The downfall of Ensign Kuga several months ago raised his hopes once gain that he would assume the senior officer posting in operations, and he gleefully recalled the crass memory of Kuga's death during the tractor beam accident in the Gamma Quadrant. As abhorrent as his attitude was towards his fallen crewmate, his view of the universe maintained that he was perfectly justified in his opinion, just as he felt justified about his hate towards Captain Roth for castigating him when he challenged Kuga's original assignment as Chief of Operations. Despite this, Klaus continued to laugh as another thought entered his mind: He wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Find something funny, lieutenant?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, can you do it somewhere else?" asked Carter, with barely a hint of " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Y... Yes sir," relented the lieutenant junior-grade. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a glance of annoyance, Carter turned around to dial up a program on the holodeck keypad, which triggered the doors to open with a mechanical grind. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Klaus watched as the two officers entered the holodeck. The rage at Commander Carter was almost as strong as his hate towards Captain Roth, burning within him as the doors slid shut. In a flash of inspiration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Allowing himself a gasping breath of victory, he celebrated the moment of rebellion before looking down at his PADD. He watched as the blinking subspace data signal he had been waiting for heralded the arrival of a " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Academy Flight Training Operations Center, Mimas, Sol VI (Saturn)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The orbital space platform in orbit of Mimas was a small facility, built for the specific purpose of a traffic control station for Starfleet Academy' | ||
+ | |||
+ | On this day, the bridge of the space platform was tracking six vessels transiting the flight range during a lull in training activities. It was a common occurrence, especially with commercial vessels, but what made it unusual was a lack of communications contact with the freighters. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What did Triton outpost say about them?" asked the commander of flight operations to the sensor officer. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sir," acknowledged the junior officer, with a slight hesitation "But we seem to have lost contact with the navigational network. The communications array in orbit of Saturn isn't responding." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Despite their best try, the space platform was not able to raise Triton outpost on subspace frequencies, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Airlock, Deck 35, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an air of paranoia, Lieutenant Junior Grade Klaus swiftly cycled the atmospheric purge on the portside airlock. The arriving shuttlepod was not cleared through operations, but then, since he was the only operations officer on board at the present time, he felt no need to clear it through the bridge. Watching around the empty arrival lounge, he waited impatiently for the system to complete its purge cycle. With pneumatic hiss and a metallic grind, the airlock door slid open to reveal five humanoid aliens standing in the alcove, each wearing a nondescript yellow jumpsuit that was the signature uniform of standard repair crew from McKinley Station. The aliens were as follows: two Kobheerians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You are Klaus?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pointy-eared humanoid raised an eyebrow before changing the topic. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The hidden control room," he asked. "Where is it?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Deck twenty-six," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Take us there," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Take us there," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Klaus looked torn, to be sure. He wanted to desperately leave Republic before he got caught, but he was counting on the promised gold-pressed latinum in order to abscond from the Earth System without notice. Looking back and forth in the corridor outside, he relented. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The alien only nodded as his compatriots and Lieutenant Klaus made their way to the nearest turbolift shaft. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Jupiter Station, Sol V** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The moderately-sized space station in orbit around Jupiter had a long history of servicing early Starfleet vessels and commercial space ships. Initially built in the twenty-second century as a structural shipyard, it went through various modifications over the centuries as the Starfleet Corps of Engineers found the location convenient for hazardous engine experiments away from the inner solar system, and the Merchant Marine command discovered it was a prime customs port for unregistered vessels heading to Earth. Eventually, other operational commands chose to keep a contingent at the station, and in the twenty-fourth century, was outfitted with two sets of three stacked saucer section hulls from Ambassador-Class starship surplus. The extra space allowed for more than just Starfleet personnel, as a few commercial businesses also took up residence in the years following the most recent expansion, turning Jupiter Station into Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Have you heard from Saturn Flight Control?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I didn't see anything over the outer system channels," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This morning' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Not willing to let such an anomaly go unreported, the ops chief pressed the intercom button. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the captain of the complex emerged from his office in front of the balcony above ops, the entire station lurched from a reverberating explosion. Just as the ops crew managed to get back on their feet, another jolt threw them back down to the deck. Outside, the six stacked saucer sections of Jupiter Station were individually being targeted by blinding streaks of yellow light, as honeycombed-shaped fighter craft barreled into the hulls, causing pieces of the saucer decks to fracture and implode. So fast did the craft collide, that entire sections of the station were flying off in all directions with each impact, until finally, the central power core was eventually breached. In an instantaneous blaze of white light, Jupiter Station was no more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deuterium Tank Catwalks, Deck 28, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the early days of spaceflight, | ||
+ | |||
+ | When Lieutenant Commander Victor Xavier Virtus designed the rudimentary " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While only a select few aboard Republic knew of the " | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the moment, however, Klaus could have strangled Jacobs if he were present. There were already a few close calls with both Republic and McKinley station personnel while Klaus led the band of interlopers to deck twenty-six. Once they were clear of the engineering side-corridors, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You bastards!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The disruptor blast, in true Varon form, tore Klaus' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a brief round of cheers, the aliens resumed their clandestine work, careful not to alert any other control system aboard the ship or McKinley Station to their presence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are the other teams signaling yet?" the Romulan asked the Nausicaan at the sciences console. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But no abort signal?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No. They must still be working their way to the bridge." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sitting in the command chair in the center of the room, the Romulan leader leaned his elbow on one of his knees, and stroked his chin in thought as the beeping and chirping of the newly energized equipment hummed around him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As soon as you hear from them, send a signal to Shavis: We're ready..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Sol IV (Mars)** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Communications within the Earth System Commonwealth were complex, with it's vast array of communication satellites (comsats) and relay stations (restats) transiting the lunar orbits of the eight primary planetary systems within. The communications were also very simple in design, as signals were relayed from planet to planet in a leap-frog fashion, depending upon the orbital locations of the planets and their moons at any particular point in time. Due to this, a distress signal from Mars would normally have been bounced off of the communications array at Jupiter station, with orbiting Mars comsats boosting the signal as a backup. However, both networks were now gone, and the pleas for help from the surface of Utopia Planetia were left unheard. Had it been facing it's nearest planetary neighbor, the light from the exploding barbell-shaped orbital station around Mars would have easily been seen from Earth. As it was, only Jupiter and Saturn were facing that particular side of Mars at the moment, and there was no one left in those planetary systems to see it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In orbit, the destruction of Utopia Planetia' | ||
+ | |||
+ | However, that was only one freighter. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As a second vessel from the rogue ore fleet entered the Mars system, it performed a concurrent attack on the surface facilities. Gawking onlookers were incinerated as a 500-megaton antimatter blast engulfed the sprawling metropolis and surface shipyards of Utopia Planetia, which were filled with half-constructed vessels still in their berths. In a radius of a hundred kilometers, red dust was thrown up into the thin Martian atmosphere, forming a gargantuan mushroom-cloud that towered so high that dust particles were thrown into sub-orbital trajectories, | ||
+ | |||
+ | The attack was finished as quickly as it came, leaving the few remaining Martian colonists to their own devices. Without their vital links to the rest of the Earth System Commonwealth, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Apollo asteroid 1566 Icarus, 7 million miles from Earth** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hiding at station-keeping beside the small asteroid, Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shavis smiled when he saw the four blinking green lights on his chair-mounted console. The infiltration teams had completed their tasks in Earth orbit, and were awaiting the next phase. His attack on sector zero-zero-one was so insidiously simple, he worried for months whether he could truly pull it off. Now, as the homeworld of the Federation was in his crosshairs, the plan was going so well that even if he failed in the upcoming final phase, the humans would still require years to recover - assuming that the rest of the Syndicate factions don't move in for the kill first. Two more antimatter-laden freighters awaited their final orders, as well as the hijacked spaceliner manned by his insectoid drones. The passengers screamed in terror when they fed on their flesh, and now, with full gullets, the genetically-altered Kaferian renegades were ready to show Earth what real fear was really like. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right to show the humans just how far Faro could reach out from the grave. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right for the New Dawn to be born. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The time was right to unleash hell. | ||
Line 4864: | Line 6016: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Sol III (Earth)** | ||
+ | From orbit, Planet Earth was a serene, hypnotic jewel blessed with life among the distant backdrop of countless shimmering stars of the Milky Way Galaxy. Pearlescent azure oceans and billowing white clouds swirled and converged together into complex and discrete patterns on its surface, occasionally parting to reveal terrestrial land masses in numerous shades of green, brown, and tan. Lit by the the life-giving heat and warmth of her single star, Sol, this planet gave rise to the human race; a most creative, adaptable, and diplomatic species that evolved from a meager tree-dwelling simian species to a unified spacefaring kingdom in the span of only two million years - a blink of an eye in cosmic terms. This species, destined to see itself as ambassadors to all like-minded spacefaring races, saw fit to offer their homeworld as the foundation of a mighty galactic federation during the twenty-second century. A mere century later, they erected a monumental orbital construct that would become Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hosting almost a third of a million souls, Spacedock was the main starship command platform of Starfleet, and regularly saw the docking and departing of dozens of vessels on a daily basis. Boasting numerous construction and repair berths inside the mushroom-shaped head of the titanic facility, the outer hull was replete with multitudinous lighted viewports, and crowned at the top with a platform of sensors, antennas, and domed habitation modules. The largest of these modules contained the cavernous command deck where nearly one hundred uniformed personnel manned various control and monitoring consoles on a series of tiered platforms. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The central command platform alone had at least two dozen officers stationed on it, some standing at pedestal-style stations, while others were seated in recliner-like alcoves, tending multi-faceted viewscreens that hosted a dizzying array of information nodes. The air was filled with a cacophony of communications chatter, most of which was standard arrival and departure orders in addition to a multitude of clearances, transfer orders, and navigational flight plans for both Starfleet vessels and independent commercial ships within the control airspace of Earth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a pair of adjoining alcoves, two senior officers, a commander and a lieutenant commander, were hard at work at their respective consoles. They wore the branch color of operations gold along the piping of their black uniforms, and like so many other on the command deck, sported a headset for inter-ship communications as well as other operating stations around Spacedock. While the two worked, the lieutenant commander showed an expression of frustration as he typed commands into his keyboard, with a furrow in his forehead growing deeper with each passing moment. Finally, he vented his annoyance to the officer next to him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Looks like we lost that uplink to Mars central control again, commander." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know the saying: Tell a Martian to jump, and they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, outside of Spacedock, two vessels from Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The young female ensign in command red was a new controller on the command deck, tasked with monitoring smaller non-Starfleet vessels within a three kilometer radial sphere surrounding Spacedock. When the computer first signaled that the Gondola was on an approach vector, it beckoned the attention of a sentient controller, and immediately assigned a crewmember to the task. In this case, the ensign was the unlucky one that the computer first chose to contact the incoming spaceliner. As it was, the Gondola failed to respond to her communique, and as she became flustered, she beckoned her supervisor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Walking over to the ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It looks like Listening Post Morena logged that ship as damaged during an ion storm in Beta Quadrant," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the apex of the central command platform was a five-meter wide circular desk with a transparent overhead shroud that displayed various digital maps of Earth airspace. The desk itself was the operational station of Commodore Eugene Stevenson, a sixty-something veteran of the Dominion war, whose white curly hair was complimented by a set of equally white, bushy eyebrows. His brown eyes were difficult to perceive, as he bore an almost perpetual squint under several wrinkles and folds of aged skin. His square-shaped head gave the impression that he was a solid officer, and after surviving twenty-six major engagements with enemy forces during the war, it was a well-deserved reputation. He sat at his desk, scrolling through numerous operational reports, but finally took note of growing operational variances from the communications department. Not wanting to don a communications headset like so many of his subordinates, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Strolling up behind the commander and lieutenant commander who made the comment about the Mars satellite network a few minutes ago, he beckoned their attention by asking a simple question. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Is there an issue with our communications system, gentlemen?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sir," the commander replied. "We have ship-to-ship contact with all vessels in the vicinity of Earth, but we can't re-establish our uplink with Luna Colony, nor with any other facility towards the outer solar system. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Solar flare activity?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If it is, it's not something the solar observatories are monitoring." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The commodore folded his arms with a quizzical expression, holding a knuckle to his lips in thought. After a second of going through all the possible mundane situations that could be causing the communications outage, he arrived at a course of action. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Send out a navigational advisory for vessels in Earth orbit," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, sir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | From across the command platform, an operations lieutenant manning the long-range telemetry station shouted an ominous announcement. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "On speakers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a split second, the dizzying array of individualized status reports from various command deck sections were replaced with the waning gibbous phase of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shrieks of horror and astonishment filled the room as an epic-sized gray cloud of ash and dust had enveloped the entirety of Tycho Crater, and began to mushroom out into space. Without needing an order to do so, an alert klaxon sounded as the realization that something very wrong had happened to Luna Colony' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell happened??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Their municipal antimatter generator could have gone critical," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Three sir. One Excelsior class, an Intrepid class, and an Akira class, the USS Lamberton." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, aye, commodore." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside in the gigantic main docking bay, lights on the three docked starships were activating, and the warp nacelles were powering up; their red and blue luminescence reflecting off the inside walls of the bay. Over the sound of the alert klaxons, the computer announced the disembarking procedures to personnel throughout the command deck and docking levels: | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, the approaching Spaceliner Gondola went unnoticed, as it's delta-vee towards Spacedock did not change. As the primary measure of velocity for the approaching vessel, a negative delta-vee would indicate a slowdown to the correct docking speed; except that the Gondola' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside the main docking bay, the departing starships, which had been freed of their moorings and were making their way to the open space doors, remained on a smooth trajectory when suddenly, the entire docking bay moved around them. The inertia from the explosion eight hundred decks below caused the whole station to lose attitude control, and the docking bay walls loomed ever closer to the line of vessels trying to disembark. A collision alrm sounded, but unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the command deck, personnel were thrown to the deckplates from the inertia of Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Fournier, Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How much do you want to bet this isn't an accident?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean?" Commodore Stevenson returned. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Think about it: Communications failures... Luna Colony destroyed... Now a collision with Spacedock? Sir, with all due respect, this sounds like an attack. I don't know by who or by what, but I suggest we bring the entire planet to red alert." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Only the C-in-C has that authority, captain." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | After a moment of thought, the seasoned flag officer nodded his head in agreement. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Very well. Bring us to red alert. Use what power we have left to activate defense systems, and divert all incoming Earth traffic to Utopia Planetia." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir," the captain responded, followed very shortly by the entire command deck being bathed in a deep-red light, and battle stations alert siren being sounded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, shuttles and travelpods that were on a docking trajectory for the damaged space station changed course and began either heading back to the surface, or out towards the distant destination of Mars. All, that is, except for the one lone ore freighter two kilometers away and closing. It did not adjust its course, nor did it respond to hails. Back on the command deck, a swarm of senior officers were converging on the young ensign' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Still no response from the laser-light signals or navigational strobes?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A few short bursts, sir," a lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fire at will, captain..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Whether they detected the powered up weapons, or whether the change in course was intended, the rogue ore freighter changed it's path just as the high-powered phaser cannons shot an angry orange lance of energy towards it. Diving into a lower trajectory, the freighter increased its speed, missing the station by flying below it, where the amputated stump that was the lower section of Spacedock still glowed with sparks of fire and broken energy conduits. Accelerating, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a simple matter of Newtonian physics: Force equals mass times acceleration. Or deceleration in this case. The mass of the expanding cloud of ultra-dense ore particles from the explosion was in the direct orbital path of Spacedock. At three hundred and fifty kilometers above the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Quickly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The spinning globe of Earth beneath them was visibly accelerating as the height above ground dropped to below three hundred kilometers. The free fall-effect lightened the gravity throughout the station to 80% of Earth normal, and although personnel on Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The book was titled " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, docked at McKinley Station in sun-synchronous Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | For a ship in drydock that was about to be shutdown, the Republic was unusually active. While the warp drive was offline and inactive, and most viewports remained dark and lifeless, only few lighted windows showed any sign of activity. However, the most unusual feature was that main impulse engine on the connecting dorsal was coming to life, glowing a bright crimson as the fusion generators charged up. Stranger still, McKinley Station' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Considering the turmoil of the attacks within the Earth System, one might assume that the Republic was preparing to rush to the rescue of Spacedock or some other nearby destination. However, nothing could be further from the truth, as the empty main bridge contained only one lone individual. With the alert klaxon blaring, Lieutenant Sven Butenhoff was frantically securing all stations while the subspace transceiver came to life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is there any possible way you can spare the time to assist?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sven knew that it was unusual for the executive officer to have left the ship without telling him, but the situation came upon Republic so rapidly, it could be that the commander evacuated with the McKinley Station crew and was trying to resolve the situation from there. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While the lieutenant was keen enough to have brought internal sensors back online for the evacuation, he did not have the time nor reason to check the sensor matrix, where he would have noticed that it was purposefully sabotaged by Lieutenant Klaus before he was killed. In fact, a gaping hole in the detection grid could be traced from deck eleven, to deck twenty six, and all the way down to the deck thirty five airlock. Pulled power relays were only a cover for what appeared to be an intricate escape plan by Klaus; one that he never had the chance to implement. With Commander Carter and Doctor Cromwell unwittingly trapped in holodeck six, and a rogue band of terrorists self-sequestered in the ship's makeshift deuterium tank bridge, there was no way for anyone else to confirm that the sensors were malfunctioning. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the German instinct inside him that begged the junior engineer to stay aboard and make sure everyone was off safely. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With speed increasing, the evacuated Galaxy Class starship accelerated to warp zero-point-eight and began it's final journey to between the orbits of Venus and Mercury, where the explosion of the antimatter containment system would occur safely away from Earth airspace. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Crazy Horse (Excelsior class), geosynchronous Earth orbit over Indonesia** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Well known as the " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The bridge of the starship instantly became a beehive of activity, with the condition-red tracer lights pulsating off the walls, and officers shuffling two and fro between stations in a hurried manner. Wearing the standard black Starfleet officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye sir," the female lieutenant replied. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The lack of response caused a flash of anger to ripple through the bipedal suidae skipper. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The door to the turbolift suddenly opened, and in front of the stubby captain stood a two-meter tall muddy-brown insectoid alien with fierce black mottles on its shell. It's compound eyes and twitching antennae adorned a head that boasted a quivering maw and a set of reflexive mandibles. The Tellarite only had time to scream a hysterical squeal before the hexapedal drone lunged towards him, ripping into the officer with a sickening crunch. As more insectoid drones poured through the second turbolift door, the communications officer stood up and wailed in horror while torrents of blood splattered across the expansive bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Gettysburg (Constellation class), polar Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | As a training vessel attached to Starfleet Academy, the Gettysburg was a common site around Earth. If she wasn't off on a minor training cruise around the system, she was in orbit teaching freshman cadets the finer points of spartan living aboard a cramped starship. Although not usually used for active duty, the Gettysburg was a fully equipped Starfleet vessel capable of holding her own with the rest of the fleet during a full-blown deployment. In fact, cadet crews transferred to her so often, nearly every officer in Starfleet knew about her and her capabilities. During this emergency, the transporters at the academy went into action, and lights began to click on sporadically across the Gettysburg' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Honshu (Nebula class), nearing apogee, highly elliptical (Molniya) Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Molniya orbits are the most efficient orbits for a starship expecting to leave the gravitational pull of a planet within twenty-four hours and still be in rotational sync with a particular region on the surface. Unlike a geosynchronous orbit, the highly eccentric Molniya orbit has an apogee that requires minimal energy to transfer a vessel into a parabolic course away from Earth. While the energy savings are small compared to the amount available aboard a starship, many captains nonetheless practice energy conservation as a matter of convention, so as to drill the habit into the crew. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Such was the case with the USS Honshu, where British Columbia native, Captain Richard MacKenzie, was preparing his vessel for departure after an extended shore leave on Earth. However, as the emergency message came through from Starfleet Operations, it was clear that they would not be concerned with fuel savings on their next set of orders. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the navigation officer complied, the deckplates vibrated as normal during the engine power-up, but did not stop as they should have when the engine was fully engaged. Instead, the magnitude of the vibrations increased, and in one jolt that almost knocked the captain out of his chair, the vibrations ceased and the vessel began to drift. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an incredulous furrow on his face, the captain watched the screen in disbelief as the two warp nacelles that were once firmly attached to his ship went spinning off into space. The explosive bolts that are used only for emergency purposes had apparently been detonated prematurely, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the HELL??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Meanwhile, the circumstances in main engineering were beyond tense, bordering on chaos. Several engineering personnel had been clubbed to death by alien aggressors who were, just moments ago, subdued by the quick reactions of the security department. However, as bodies lay strewn about the compartment in pools of their own blood, it was clear that the situation was not at all under control. | ||
+ | |||
+ | With wide-eyed astonishment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"An INCIDENT?? Fred, what the hell are you talking about?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The engineer was intently watching a male Palamarian pointing a disruptor pistol at the warp core. It was clear by his expression that the alien was not intent on surrendering to the security contingent who was quickly converging on his position. "For the New Dawn!" he bellowed loudly, causing his voice to echo throughout the engineering compartment. The Palamarian then pulled the trigger, and in a calamitous cascade of white light, the Honshu was no more. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Sulik was not planning on a trip to Earth, but her Vulcan parents suggested a stopover on her way to Starbase 213. They felt a face-to-face meeting with the Commandant of Starfleet Academy would somehow absolve her younger sister' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The single most unknown variable in Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Starship Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The helmsman barely had time to acknowledge before the entire ship shuttered from a forceful impact. Bridge stations exploded into sparks and flames, while hull fissures shot geysers of supercooled air in all directions. Alert klaxons sounded while the captain straightened herself in her chair. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside, the puny scout/ | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Crazy Horse** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The rogue terrorist sitting in the captain' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It would be a glorious death. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Normally, the current mode of surface attack would work for only planets with a thin atmosphere or none at all, as Shavis knew that any surface attack on Earth would have been fruitless. It would have taken an agonizingly long duration for a simple atmospheric re-entry maneuver, during which the attacking vessel would be vulnerable to counter-attack by orbiting starships and Spacedock proper. Now, however, the orbit was cleared of such obstacles, and Spacedock itself was crippled in it's decaying orbit, no longer a threat. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking over his shoulder, J'Dan spied the renegade Kaferian mutants that accompanied him aboard the Crazy Horse after beaming over from the Gondola. Some were dutifully sitting at their control stations, while others were still gratifying themselves by feasting on the innards of dead officers splayed out along the deck. The bridge was mottled in the blood of humans and alien human allies alike, giving J'Dan a euphoria of vengeance, and causing his own blood to boil with the fever of revenge. Glancing around at the death and destruction, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the New Dawn!" he bellowed, and the chorus of cicada-like stridulations resonated throughout the bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Paris, France, Sol III** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Place de la Concorde was twenty-acre parcel of land situated in the middle of Paris. During the French Revolution, the rebel government erected a guillotine in the center of the square where important heads of state were executed on site, often in front of cheering crowds. Thousands were beheaded in the square before some semblance of civility would be re-established, | ||
+ | |||
+ | With the soon-to-be retired Andorian president, Wolmac D' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The amount of antimatter stored on the starship was tantamount to about fifty kilotons of trinitrotoluene, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Command deck, Earth Spacedock** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The captain of engineering stood hunched over the commodore' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pall of the words descended upon the attending officers with the weight of an entire planet. The commodore, who was well-known for being composed and level-headed under extreme pressure during the Dominion War, bore an expression of both shock and disbelief, unable to find a resolution to their current predicament. With wide-eyed astonishment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Begin the evacuation..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Deep down inside, each of the command officers knew that it was an impossible task, at least not within the time allotted. It was clear that the commodore was hoping to save at least a few of the remaining 250,000 lives aboard the station before it met its fiery fate. Under extreme circumstances, | ||
+ | |||
+ | He was praying for a miracle that would not come. | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Moon itself had been considered a lifeless rock for many centuries until the human inhabitants of Earth chose to take their first steps to the stars and colonize its closest celestial neighbor. What took centuries to build - a technological mecca of sophisticated interconnected space colonies on the lunar surface - was destroyed in seconds. The smoldering remains of Tycho City, a bastion of civilization spanning eighty kilometers, was nothing more than a fuming crater of burning embers. Signals from Earth, which were normally routed through Tycho' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | For centuries, the canals of Mars were the source of science fiction and speculation among the inhabitants of Earth, sparking fantastic ideas of extraterrestrial aliens and giant cities funneling life-giving meltwater from the polar regions of the planet. In the twenty-first century, the first human explorers of the Martian surface revealed the planet to be a lonely place; desolate and benign, and beckoning Earthlings to carve out a new, unique civilization of their own. Utopia Planetia, once the bedrock foundation of a mighty Starfleet, had been reduced to over ten-thousand square kilometers of flattened, lifeless, and mangled refuse in one felt swoop. Pillars of red smoke billowed from burning craters that were once solidly-built, | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | In the blackness of space, the dim yellow light of Sol shone brightly across the vast interstellar distances. Its solar wind was steady and unrelenting, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The static-laced break in the transmission suggested the operator was so urgently hoping for a response, that he allowed a precious few seconds to pass so as to listen intently for reply. Sadly, there was none. So weak was the signal that it was completely lost among the background scatter of natural, stellar-induced static of the galactic abyss. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Is there anybody there?... Anybody at all?"// | ||
Line 4870: | Line 6376: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | The deafening roar of the stadium crowd was flooding into the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was over in a split second. As he saw the gaggle of green-jerseys emblazoned with " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the players dispersed, the opposing team smiled and congratulated themselves while a lone Maverick player pulled off his helmet and face guard while walking towards the doctor. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on, Leon!" shouted John. "At least try to look as if you're ENJOYING this!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think I'm cut out for organized sports," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I said I'm not *cut out* for it," Leon retorted. "I didn't say I didn't respect it." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fair enough," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are we done here, then?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | John was about to suggest they play another match without the stadium crowd, but as he looked at the doctor attempting to regain his breath, he realized that maybe they both had had enough. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on," John patted Leon on the back. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon smiled and looked at his friend when it suddenly dawned on them both that something was peculiar: The holodeck doors had not opened after ending the program, which was the standard protocol. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Registering a negative warble, the computer disobeyed with an ominous reply. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the HELL??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Comm channels are locked out," John stated while struggling with the obstinate computer. "We have no access to anything requiring a user logon." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a positive chirp, the computer obliged the faux need for medical assistance by bringing Shannon Harris into existence on the holodeck. She looked mildly bewildered after being pulled out of her diagnostic cycle, but immediately spied the two officers, provoking a grin on her face. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Did you boys miss me so much that you couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | She scowled with confusion at the request, then looked towards the floor as her program made it's way into the restricted portion of the computer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without warning, the look of confusion on Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Oh my GOD!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Low Earth orbit** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It began as a futile yet hopeful attempt by a small fleet of service shuttlecraft, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Off-gassing from the ablative effect of ozone and upper atmospheric ionization impacted Spacedock' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Structural break-up commenced over the Canary Islands, as the single blinding sphere of orange light fluttered, heralding the dissociation of three distinct sections of Spacedock that pulled themselves apart like molten slag flowing out of a blast furnace. Lives were extinguished and bodies burned to carbon as a cacophonous rumble resonated across the sky from horizon to horizon. The turbulence sent pieces of white-hot debris peeling off the disintegrating hull, which broke apart into thousands of diminutive orange streamers as they rode the shockwave all the way to the ground. In distinctly rapid succession, multiple sonic explosions thundered throughout the heavens as debris decelerated below the speed of sound, and a myriad of tiny white vapor trails stretched in all directions. The rain of wreckage would last for hours, as charred flotsam ranging in size from inches to meters in length pelted the oceans and continents from above. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a final blow, the burning, melted remains of the largest piece of Spacedock impacted the ground at the southern tip of the Great Rift Valley in East Africa, carving a trench several kilometers long, and terminating in a gaping, smoldering crater about a hundred meters in diameter. As the slag cooled in the simmering cauldron, the realization that two hundred thousand people were now dead still had not resonated with the inhabitants of Earth, as they were still confused while struggling to interpret what was happening around them. One by one, people stepped outside their homes and workplaces to helplessly watch the countless pieces of flaming wreckage fall from the sky with their own eyes, imprinting in their minds the shocking reality that the once indestructible icon of human accomplishment had crumbled apart over their heads. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deck 11, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took several minutes for John, Leon, and Shannon to digest the ghastly news coming in over the comm channels. They each were both angry and stupefied at the carnage and audacity of the cowardly attacks, searching for a way to grasp the magnitude of the unfolding disaster. With Spacedock gone, and four orbiting starships destroyed - one of them flown intentionally into the center of Paris and detonated - they had no idea what to expect next. Just as they grappled with this new reality, Shannon informed them that Republic was changing course back towards Earth, apparently due to the nefarious instructions from the individuals sequestered in the deuterium tank bridge. Although the unexplained degradation of the antimatter containment aboard Republic had halted, the magnetic field still had not regenerated itself, suggesting that whatever their uninvited guests had in store for Republic, it did not include saving the ship from disaster. The next mission for the trio of officers was clear: Regain control of Republic by any means necessary. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Like the rest of the vessel, the hallway adjacent to Holodeck Six was devoid of people when Shannon whispered into existence just outside the door. While her program was uniquely encapsulated from the rest of Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It was Klaus," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I should have guessed," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think so," she replied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So we're dealing with an unknown variable," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | John clenched his jaw in anger. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You have a plan?" Leon asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | John looked to Leon in what he perceived to be an accusatory manner at first, but then the doctor then realized his friend was looking intently at his combadge. Without another word, John snatched the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Deuterium-tank " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Compared to a standard auxiliary control room, the deuterium-tank bridge was nothing special at first glance. In fact, it's location within the ship was what made it unique, as the tank's magnetic field blocked transporter locks, as well as active sensor scans. The tank was also positioned in an area of the ship where indiscriminate phasor fire was ill-advised due to the close proximity of other deuterium-filled tanks. Even more insidious was what occurred when the deuterium-tank bridge was activated, as the Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Back then, the Saratoga was lost with all hands during an ambush in an asteroid field the Cardassian border. Years after the war, the heavily damaged vessel was found drifting along the border before being brought back to a construction depot for a complete re-build. While normal procedure would have been to keep the name ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | And so it did. While the deuterium-tank bridge played no small role in resolving the Cestus Three incident of the previous year, it was decided to decommission the room for use again only when Virtus needed it. That need had never materialized, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes, sovereign" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You all have done well," the Romulan leader looked around at his disciples with satisfaction. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the New Dawn!" the other aliens roared in response, their voices seething with inspiration and vindictiveness. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For the next few minutes, the room was silent, sans the beeping and chirping of the machinery. On the main viewer, the west coast of North America came into view, and as Republic surfed the outer fringes of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without warning, the floor beneath them jolted violently. It wasn't an air pocket that hit them, nor was it the resonating shutter felt during combat, where the acceleration compensators would adjust the gravity to assist in hull integrity. Instead, it was more a jarring action that threw the standing aliens to the deck, and knocked the Dopterian in the Ops chair out of his seat. Slowly, the gravity in the room began to lessen, and while the main screen turned to static, the monitors on the control stations turned red and blinking with obvious signs of major malfunction. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What happened?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't know, sovereign!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean 'not responding'??" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sovereign!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | Outside on the deuterium tank catwalks, John and Leon were wearing respirator masks and standing across from each other on either side of the chasm where deuterium tank number three had once been situated. Air was whipping past them as the compartment forcefully decompressed while they manned a pair of twin control stations that operated the latching mechanisms for the deuterium tank structural interlocks. As for the tank itself, the construct was lifting up and out of its space inside the ship's hull through two missing bulkhead plates on the ceiling. As it rose, every link that the tank had with the Republic was severed, breaking apart in a shower of sparks. Without a moment to lose, John lead his way over to Leon using handholds mechanically carved along the sidewall of the catwalks, and used a hand-over-hand method to reach the doctor. Hurriedly, they both made their way to a nearby containment airlock built into the engineering deck as the gargantuan deuterium fuel cell floated out of it's cradle in the secondary hull, and out into space beyond. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Inside their safety compartment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Vic knew long ago about the probability that someone could use the deuterium-bridge against us," explained John as the two of them caught their breath. "When he had Pakita seal it off after the Cestus Three incident, he engineered an ejection system for the tank for exactly this kind of scenario." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Virtus probability principle," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | John and Leon's victory was short-lived. No sooner did the detached deuterium tank disintegrate in Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What the hell was that?" Leon exclaimed while staring out the small airlock viewport. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't know," John added turning to the wall-mounted intercom. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What is it?" John replied, realizing that Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Our friends put a deadman' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Like what?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor and executive officer looked at one another with expressions of impending disaster. "How long do we have?" John asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Damn it!" John slammed his fist against the bulkhead. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "My guess," | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | John looked at Leon with a deadpan expression before closing the channel. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The course that Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Run another internal scan of the ship," John Carter hurriedly ordered from the tactical arch. "I want to make absolutely sure no one else is hiding on board, especially Klaus." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon could understand why John was adamant, but there was nothing left for him to scan with the ship's sensors, especially not in the time they have left. "I checked everything," | ||
+ | |||
+ | A warbling from the engineering console where Shannon was seated beckoned the attention of both John and Leon. "In about eight minutes, it won't matter who's left aboard," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The sigh of exasperation from the executive officer was unmistakable. Much like Lieutenant Butenhoff earlier, John was now senior officer aboard the Republic, and had a sober decision to make. With only eight minutes to a loss of antimatter containment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was a risk John Carter wasn't willing to take. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are you blind, doc?" John shouted harshly at Leon. "Take a good look at your sensors! Do you see any starship or capital vessel anywhere in the Earth system at the moment? No! Do you expect one anytime in the next ten minutes? No! That means we'd basically be letting a ticking time bomb fly away from Earth with no one at the controls! And what would we do if someone just *happens* to be waiting for us to leave the ship? I'll tell you: There would be no one - absolutely NO ONE - to stop them from doing something else with Republic before she explodes! I'm not willing to take that chance! Not after everything that's happened!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then I'll stay," Shannon interrupted him with sternness. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Both John and Leon were taken aback. Not by what Shannon said, per se, but because it had not occurred to them until now that the destruction of Republic also meant the death of Shannon Harris. Obviously, the holographic doctor knew this already, and had already come to terms with it, but for the XO and the doctor, it hit them like a ton of bricks. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you are," Leon piped in to reinforce John's words. "Then you might as well stop right there, because as far as we're concerned, you're just as a much a human being as either one of us." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Their devotion to her equality as a fellow sentient touched Shannon on a level that she hadn't felt before. She loved John, and while she had a self-preservation instinct to keep herself from harm, she also wanted to keep John from harm too, and it trumped her own compulsion to protect herself. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is what I want," she explained. "If Republic is to perish out here in space, and there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon and John locked stares of unspoken communion. They each knew that this would likely be their last moments together, and there was very little left to be said. Shannon was in acceptance of her fate, and John knew there wasn't anything he could do to change her mind. What is, is what must be. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Long story, Hawk," John replied. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Now that yer reportin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Leon and I are here aboard Republic. I'm not sure where Klaus is, but Shannon uncovered evidence that he was behind the sabotage of the ship. Send out an alert for him through Starfleet Security." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"You mind fillin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I will, but not now. We're out of time." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Did you two get th' antimatter containment under control?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the channel closed, Leon looked back and forth between Shannon and John. While he knew the latter hated long goodbyes, Leon also shared a bond with the holographic doctor, though on a more platonic level than John. He had a lot he wanted to say to her, but knew that time was critical. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While they talked, John focused his attention on the engineering subsystems panel, where he accessed the ship's holographic projector system. After typing a few commands into the controls, the words "EMH PROGRAM TRANSFER COMMENCING" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Ever since Republic was launched," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I will." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come on, Leon" John beckoned after a moment. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Leon stepped back to join John, they both looked at her with remorse and admiration as John pressed the communications button. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | As she watched the two fade away in the matter stream, Shannon raised a hand in parting gesture. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, unregistered ore freighter, Apollo asteroid 1566 Icarus** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Originally, Shavis had targeted only Earth Spacedock and the Moon, thinking that atmospheric re-entry would interfere with his attacks, since the antimatter-laided freighters could have been shot down during the required minutes-long re-entry sequence for Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | That didn't happen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fuming, Shavis watched as Republic shifted her orbit after only a minute within Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | While it wasn't Shavis' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your excellency!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then tell me how the team on Republic failed!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I... I can' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Then I will let Faro consume your soul in the afterlife!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning his enraged eyes toward the alien, the formidable monarch sneered before responding in a vengeful voice. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You want to be next, Glyneer?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No, your Excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Squinting his eyes at the screen, Shavis slowly let go his grip of the communications officer, who quietly went scrambling back to her station. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: USS Republic, somewhere between the orbits of Earth and Venus** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Starship Republic had not been this empty of life since the resurrection from her previous existence as the derelict Saratoga over five years prior. A large portion of her crew had already removed many of their belongings, most during the mass exodus at Deep Space Nine several weeks ago, and the rest during the extended shore leave at McKinley Station. Listless corridors stretched out throughout the ship, seemingly frozen in time without a soul walking its lengthy distances. Deck by deck, unoccupied staterooms and crew quarters lay dormant, laboratories sat idle, and conference rooms were dark next to quiescent recreation facilities. Even the arboretum had been put to rest, with most annuals removed and recycled, and perennials and trees put into stasis at McKinley for eventual replanting. Throughout her short career after launching at Utopia Planetia a year and a half ago, the personnel who walked her halls were what gave Republic her life energy, and what validated her existence. Now, with nothing left but automated machinery and inanimate superstructure, | ||
+ | |||
+ | All, that is, except for one. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alone on the bridge, Shannon Harris sat in the command chair weeping uncontrollably, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I love you, John..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As she continued to weep, the engineering subsystems panel at the rear of the bridge was blinking a message. "EMH PROGRAM TRANSFER COMPLETE" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Spying the scarlet-haired doctor standing up in the command pit, the captain pulled open the flap on his tunic to put away his glasses as he walked down the portside ramp. As he approached the dumbfounded doctor, the elder man's eyes squinted when he offered a fatherly smile, tenderly grasping her shoulders. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "John thought that you could use some company." | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was all Shannon could do to embrace the holographic Kirk, her weeping transforming from profound sadness to heartfelt gratitude. While she wanted desperately to say a passionate goodbye to John Carter when he left, and use every emotion that burst forth from her own heart, she knew that that wasn't the commander' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk let her release her sadness into his shoulder, holding her tightly as she wept. Gently stroking her scarlet hair, he soothed her nerves for as long as it took for Shannon to undergo a much-needed catharsis. For as little as the captain knew about her, it was clear that she was a strong-willed woman who cared deeply for John, and to see her in this state told him that she was at the end of her rope. What she needed now was comfort, and as her sobbing ebbed, it became clear that it was working. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you!" she released him, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you so much for being here!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think John would have been able to forgive himself if he didn't do *something* for you," the captain explained. "Of course, he was a little vague on the details, but it's my understanding that Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "...My god!" exclaimed Kirk. "Who in heaven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon shook her head again. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This makes no sense..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Looking around the room, the holographic Jim Kirk tried to find a communications panel so he could see the damage first hand. Catching sight of the Ops console, the captain from yesteryear walked over to the panel, and pulled out his spectacles from his tunic. As he placed the corrective lenses over his eyes, he tried to make sense of the system before him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How does this damned twenty-fourth century contraption work?" he muttered, while trying to find the controls for the forward screen. "I want to see a tactical view of Earth." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If we're going to die together," | ||
+ | |||
+ | She was about to protest, mainly because Shannon did not want to have to relive the events of the past hour. On the other hand, forcing Jim Kirk to face his fate without knowing the reasons behind it seemed terribly unfair. Pursing her lips, the holographic doctor stepped up to the Ops station and dialed the appropriate keystrokes to give the captain what he wanted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The star-scape on the main viewer switched to a computer graphic via an electronic warble. A plethora of information came forth on the screen, all surrounding a digital rendering of Earth, showing it's day side and night side. A fuzzy haze around the planet revealed themselves to be debris, small shuttles, and travel pods orbiting the planet, and a few larger ones were noted to be drydocks and repair depots. Blinking red were four offset information boxes with lined arrows pointing to specific locations in Earth orbit. The first three indicated the last known location of the USS Honshu, the USS Gettysburg, and the USS Tal' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Captain Kirk stood aghast, with his mouth hanging open. He had seen nearly every catastrophe that could befall a planet, but watching his homeworld fall apart before his eyes was beyond comprehension. Now he knew what Shannon meant by the universe going mad, as he had not seen Earth in this state of turmoil since the Whalesong crisis of 2286. At least in that event, Spacedock was able to maintain orbit. Whoever dealt this damage to Earth had a powerful reach, as well as a twisted mind. | ||
+ | |||
+ | While Kirk was fixated on the ground track of Spacedock re-entering the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Oh no!" Shannon exclaimed with rising tension in her voice. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The attackers!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | The realization of what the doctor was telling him slowly dawned on the captain. He took two steps towards the screen with folded arms, and a hand to his chin in thought. He spun around and began pacing the same spot over and over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't think there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What about the batteries?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The warp matrix has been offline for hours," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Life support, mostly," | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Unregistered ore freighter, Earth airspace** | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took Shavis and his freighter crew only minutes to secure the cask of antimatter fuel from Spacedock, ejected shortly before it re-entered Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No sign of pursuit, Your Excellency," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With anticipating eyes fixated on the distant North American coastline on the the screen, Shavis gripped his chair so tightly that his fingers dug into the upholstery. His objective was set, and he was savoring his last moment alive with visions of a decimated Starfleet Headquarters in the center of a burning, flattened city. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Earth Emergency Command Center, San Francisco, North America, Earth** | ||
+ | |||
+ | The cavernous room that composed the Starfleet facility for planetary emergency operations was frantic with activity, with hundreds of manned control stations situated in front of a single three-story-high digital display surrounded by two dozen smaller ones, each one the size of a small conference table. Emergency information of every sort were displayed on the smaller monitors, along with broadcasts of burning space modules and desperate, static-laced communications coming in from smaller communities at Luna Colony. On the main monitor, a digital rendering of a rotating Earth was displayed, and a pulsating crimson icon was situated over Paris, with a smaller one over central Mozambique. Every now and again a klaxon would sound, and the words "RED ALERT" would overlay the spinning globe, followed by a computer voice announcing as such over the loudspeaker. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim Roth, after hearing about Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kim Roth maintained a stern, tense expression on the balcony, keeping her arms crossed, and waiting for the worst to happen. The appearance of the freighter on the tracking grid happened so quickly that no serious evacuation of the city could be organized in time. Except for a few hospitals and schools, as well as the top brass at the main Starfleet Headquarters building, the rest of the city were forced to stay and await their fate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was the first time Kim had been around a group of admirals that were dead silent. They did not speak a word amongst themselves, for they were all too focused on the activity below. A few of them still held out hope that the freighter would somehow miss the city, but as its trajectory on the overhead map showed clearly, the course was precise, and likely to be deadly accurate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Immediately following the torturously suspenseful announcement, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Main bridge, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Galaxy-class bridge gently shuddered as the vessel buffeted against turbulent air, the result of Republic performing a controlled re-entry within the Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think it's getting colder," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are you sure we can't just power up at least one phaser bank?" asked the holographic captain sitting next to her at the ops station. "It might make this easier." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The scarlet-haired turned to him with a smile. "Even if we could, who would pull the trigger? Last time I checked, no hologram in the Federation has the programming to willfully kill another sentient being." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Good point," | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the viewer in front, the distant city of San Francisco whipped by underneath the ship as it travelled westward, easily denoted by the blue waters of San Francisco Bay and the rust-colored trestles of the Golden Gate Bridge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It was nice to see it one last time with my own eyes," commented the elderly Starfleet captain with a wistful expression. While he had a spectacular view of the city from his holographic apartment on the holodeck, his self-aware program provided the burden of knowing that it was fake. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The announcement seemed to strike a nerve in Shannon, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and her eyes widened with a stiff jaw while focusing tightly on the screen ahead. She was fighting the urge to panic in the face of her own termination, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | At fifty kilometers of altitude, and two hundred kilometers from the shore, Republic and the ore freighter collided, releasing the combined antimatter of both vessels. It was estimated that the yield of the explosion was between forty and fifty megatons of TNT, or almost the size of the November 1961 nuclear explosion of Tsar Bomba, a hydrogen bomb which was the most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated on the planet. The fireball was over 7 kilometers in diameter, but did not touch the ground. Nevertheless, | ||
+ | |||
+ | In orbit at McKinley Station, the Republic crew watched on the viewscreens the miracle of their ship rushing to the rescue one last time, although most everyone was perplexed and confused over what had occurred aboard the uninhabited starship to cause it to perform a deed of self-sacrifice. Everyone, that is, except for John Carter. For his part, the executive officer looked mournfully towards the ground with a hollow feeling in his gut. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Starfleet Headquarters, | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the initial attacks stopped, several hours went by where confusion reigned and rampant paranoia suggested that another attack could occur at anytime. However, as the afternoon progressed, and rescue starships from other star systems began to trickle in one after another, it became clear that the threat was now over. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As for the handful of Republic crew, they did the best they could to assist relief operations from McKinley station, but there wasn't much they could do without their starship. Medical facilities were prepared to receive casualties en masse, but was treating only a handful of people because (as would later be determined) the attacks on the Earth system were designed for just one thing: to kill. Not maim, not injure, but to murder; to wipe out as many humans as possible. With this deathly reality, Kim Roth ordered Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | | {{ : | ||
+ | |||
+ | The main lobby of Rear Admiral Krockover' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Although the devastation throughout the star system was mind-boggling, | ||
+ | |||
+ | One after another, images and subspace video downlinks were established from other star systems, and each drew gawks and gasps from the gathered officers. Fuzzy, static-laced digital telecasts were depicting horrific scenes from several nearby colony worlds. New France... Aldebaran... Idara... Norpin... Vega... Proxima Colony. Each of these human colony planets were recipients of a fast and furious extraterrestrial attack. Gaping, smoldering craters replaced cities. Fires raged across rocky landscapes that were once forest or farmland. Buildings and municipalities were reduced to burning embers in the background of burnt, carbonized bodies still ablaze in flames. Humans... entire families... were caught outside during the antimatter incineration of their homes. The grisly shock and gut-wrenching horror were burned into their faces before they died, completely oblivious as to who their killers were. Worst of all, a live feed from Benecia Colony showed an orbital survey vessel scanning the surface, investigating what appeared to be an enormous, planet-wide biogenic weapon release: Dead bodies of men, women, and children littered thoroughfares and community gathering areas, each showing signs of a tortured, heinous death by toxic asphyxiation. The sensor results were blinking in the lower corner reading " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Soon, these images would be broadcast across the rest of the planet Earth, where people would learn of the extent of the damage far beyond their own star system. With smaller, scattered debris from Spacedock still showering down from above, dusk fell in the cloudy sky over San Francisco, and a cold rain settled in to mark the end of the most horrendous day in Federation history. Come the dawn, the crestfallen survivors would begin the gruesome task of counting the dead. | ||
Line 4876: | Line 6865: | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | A steady stream of ash fell from the sky like a gentle snow storm as the plumes of smoke billowed upwards. What had once been known as the city of lights was now an uncontrolled firestorm as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by the occasional stubborn ruins that refused to crumble. One of the most ancient cities on the face of the planet Earth, it had grown over the course of two millennia from a humble Gallic settlement into a modern metropolis that had stood as a beacon of civilization. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Throughout it's existence the city has been a survivor, withstanding a myriad of conflicts and conquests over the centuries. It had survived the black death, the deadliest pandemic in Earth history. It had struggled through conquests and occupations as well as repelled sieges and birthed a revolution. It had endured the Nazi occupation of World War II, the civil unrest of the early 21st century, and escaped the nuclear infernos of World War III. Finally, it had served proudly as the capital city and seat of the Federation government for two-hundred-and-twenty years. | ||
+ | |||
+ | But today in an instant, the city of Paris, France had been reduced to a smoldering lifeless wasteland. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The waters of the river Seine, vaporized by the inferno, no longer flowed through the heart of the city. Neither native Parisians nor tourists alike any longer walked and shopped along the Champs-Élysées. No one prayed within the pews of the thousand year old Gothic Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris. The modern fifteen-story office building that had been built upon the Place de la Concorde to house the office of the president and the council chambers would never again conduct the affairs of state. The Arc de Triomphe no longer stood to honor those whom had fought and died for their country. Never again would the iron lattice Tour Eiffel - once disdained by the public as an ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It had been a balance of good fortune on the part of the politicians and of poor timing on those responsible for the attacks that had spared the overwhelming majority of the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was now over twelve hours since the senior officers of the late Starship Republic had gathered together in the office of Rear Admiral Krockover at Starfleet Command, San Francisco. After the first few hours during which there had been a few hushed conversations, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Thus far, the crew of Republic were the 'lucky ones' whom like the politicians of Paris were such do more to fate and timing than anything else; the crews of each of the other hijacked starships had perished at the hands of their captors homicidal and suicidal madness. Already, the Republic herself had become a symbol of some hope amidst the despair. Her sacrifice in saving San Francisco from suffering the same fate as Paris had earned the vessel itself hero status in the eyes of the people. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The multitude of horrific images of destruction that paraded endlessly across the news feeds would forever be seared into their memories. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Prominent amongst them had been the mushroom capped tower of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the hours ticked by, the mid-day light had faded first to twilight then finally onward into night as emergency responders continued to pour in. The entire first fleet had been recalled to duty in sector 001, and the Enterprise herself would be in orbit within seventy-two hours. Beyond the initial wave of Starfleet forces, civilian-lead aid vessels had begun pouring in from Vulcan, Andor, Tellar, Alpha Centauri and a dozen other worlds in proximity to the heart of the Federation. As the chaos abated and gave way to the cold hard reality and despair normal in the wake of such events, the message being sent by those responsible had become loud and clear: it was not the Federation being targeted, but the human race itself. Something reinforced by the ever-increasing casualty estimates which painted the dark truth that well over ninety-two percent of the fatalities were human. | ||
+ | |||
+ | However, the most oft-repeated question thus far asked by everyone from elected officials and Starfleet admirals to foreign ambassadors and average civilians remained unanswered. Who amongst the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the governing bodies of the Alpha and Beta quadrants learned of the calamity that had befallen the Federation in the early morning hours, it became clear that none of the usual suspects were responsible. Most of the great powers of the quadrant had promptly issued statements in response to the attacks. The Klingons were appalled at the cowardice of the attacks, and had promptly sworn to stand by their Federation allies. The Romulans, always more calculating and reserved had expressed their condemnation of such methods and pledged humanitarian support. The Ferengi had offered a sizeable reward for information leading to the apprehension of those responsible. The Breen, the Cardassians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | By 0800 the next morning, nearly twenty-four hours since the attacks had occurred, Leon Cromwell was gently prodding everyone to eat some of the food Admiral Krockover had ordered delivered from the commissary, when coincidentally everyone lost their appetites as the last few shockwaves of information washed over them... | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | No words were spoken between the crew of the late Starship Republic. Somehow, it felt as if not a word was spoken between anyone on the whole of the planet Earth in that moment. As the Bajoran reporter broke down some of the figures that amassed to such an incomprehensible figure, the totality of what had happened was driven home. | ||
+ | |||
+ | One of the colony worlds to be attacked - Benecia - had lost virtually their entire population to an unidentified biological weapon. One of the eldest Earth colonies, founded not long after the founding of the Federation, it had been home to forty-seven million people. The news concerning Benecia brought the days tragedy closer to home for than it already had been for Leon Cromwell, who found himself no longer able to block out the harsh realities of so many innocent lives being lost. Innocent children whom could have nothing to do with whatever had spurned the hatred of those responsible for the dark deeds of this day. As a doctor, you became accustomed to losing patients and learned to cope with such, hoping that you never became numb to such loss less you lose a part of what it meant to be human. Losing a patient that was a child was always even more difficult, for it meant the end of so much potential, so much life left yet to be experienced. How much potential, how much life yet to experience so much of what it meant to live, had been obliterated today? And for what? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Four other colonies - Deneva, New France, Vega and Norpin V - had fairly centralized populations. Each of these worlds had lost more than a third of their citizens. New France, the youngest of the three colonies, was less than a century old and had risen to a key strategic and trading world during the Cardassian border wars. Vega colony had pre-dated the Federation, and been a key frontier outpost in the early to mid 22nd century, it's population levels never quite peaking due to it's harsh terrain. Deneva had experienced planetary scale attack one-hundred-twenty years earlier when her people had been attacked by a species of neural parasites, but had escaped significant casualties do to the intervention of the original Starship Enterprise under her legendary crew or Kirk and Spock. Norpin V was a bit like pouring salt into the wound for many, especially for Starfleet brats, as it was a world that catered especially to those seeking a quiet retirement. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Luna colony, with a densely-packed population of fifty-six million dependent upon dozens of atmospheric domes, had suffered the greatest losses on a percentage basis, having lost nearly half of her citizens. The first extra-terrestrial body that mankind had ever set foot upon had always held a special place in the hearts and minds of humanity and the people of Earth. Her once ghostly and lifeless visage of craters had long ago been obscured by the reflections cast off her domes and cities, like twinkle of diamonds and jewels. Now though, craters once again were easily visible upon her rocky surface, only these were laced with the ruins of what had once been cities of man. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Iadara, Proxima, Kessik IV and Aldebaran were the least likely candidates to come under fire of them all. Though Proxima and Kessik IV were each near enough to the Klingon border to have been strategic during the Federation' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In comparison, the Martian colonies had been the most ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In all, it was the single greatest loss of human life in a single day in the history of all mankind. Not even the opening salvos of ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The scene was something out of a holonovel, as a throng of reporters stood shoulder-to-shoulder jockeying for positions before a hastily established podium just outside a pair of blast-doors that provided access to EC2 chambers. The press conference was clearly impromptu and had been called for with only moments to spare. There were few reasons for such half-hazard measures to be taken in this day and age, and with the people' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Without notice, the thick blast-doors parted revealing first a pair of armed Starfleet Security officers wielding the latest variation of phaser rifle. It was a surprising visual and certainly a bit disconcerting to see that whatever or whomever was responsible for yesterday' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a moment, to both allow his statement to sink in as well as to compose himself a bit further, Admiral Paris continued. //"A little over ninety minutes ago, Starfleet Intelligence received an encoded communication which we have since authenticated to have in fact been made by the apparent architect of yesterday' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"The individuals responsible for this horrendous attack are, it seems, just that; individuals. Sick, twisted, unethical and reprehensible individuals who claim no allegiance to any nation or empire. They are not a prior foe, such as the Borg or the Dominion. They are not a government with whom our relations are strained, such as the Breen or the Tholians. They are not a race with which we were once animus with yet have found a more positive way to co-exist alongside, such as the Romulans, the Cardassians, | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the gaggle of reporters shouted questions after him and the other members of the Starfleet brass, only barely restrained by their professional decorum from charging after them, the feed switched to a pair of FNS anchors. The white-haired and bearded Efrosian Xal Ra-Museii and the clean-shaven elder human Jack Warner. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well that just fuckin' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I think Admiral Paris made it rather clear that, though the attacks were connected, he said specifically that they had clearly been in the planning stages for months or even years,"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"It does beg the question, though; if the Syndicate hadn't been toppled at this particular moment in time, would Starfleet Intelligence have have to the time or opportunities to be able to avert whatever those larger-scale attacks before they had been launched?"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"I think at this point, Jack, that the Terran expression ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding slightly in concession, Jack Warner finally gave some ground to the points his counterpart had made. //"I suppose your quite right, of course. Unprovoked surprise attacks do have a habit of being things that we could only truly fathom from hind-sight. At some stage or another, a deceptive tactic originates before which it's incomprehensible. The Trojan horse of ancient of ancient Greek myth, Pearl Harbor, the attacks of September 11th, Station Salem One, the Tomed Incident..."// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Feeling a bit more comfortable speaking through the prism of history through which the emotions of the day could be diffused, and pleased that he'd been able to get his compatriot away from the pundit-like speculations, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Narrowing his eyes less than a millimeter, everything about the veteran FNS anchor Jack Warner seemed to shift almost imperceptibly. His body language, the tone of his voice, his posture, even his state of mind. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jack Warner wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Of course not!"// | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | //"Nor could I,"// agreed Ra-Museii, uncomfortably unable to offer up much of anything but the verbal equivalent of a smile and nod in agreement with anything Jack Warner said at this particular moment, trapped as he was. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning away from Ra-Museii, Warner looked ahead directly at the recording apparatus and in essence, directly to the people of the Federation watching as he continued. //"For the events of yesterday were not a ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the image froze and minimized into the top right-hand corner of the view screen, the focus of the information broadcast switched from what was clearly an earlier recorded segment to the current individual holding down the anchor chair. A Bajoran female with long hair draping down across the right side of her face smiled professionally as she spoke. //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Switching gears, the professional smile faded from her features to be replaced by a more neutral expression as the young woman turned to face a different recording apparatus off to her right, which promptly became the main signal for the news network feed. //"At the top of the hour, I'm Rani Telinda reporting from FNS galactic headquarters in New York. Recapping our top stories, another round of civilian-organized protests occurred this morning at Starfleet facilities across the Federation. The protest group ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Switching from the live feed of the Bajoran junior anchor to an archival video, a handsome brunette woman in her mid-40s standing amidst a crowd of sign and placard holding protestors began to speak. //"I know better than most people that sometimes, you must stand up for yourselves and your fellow people, and fight the good fight. I also know from my late husband, from my brother, from my mother, and from so many friends and comrades who died doing just that, that Starfleet' | ||
+ | |||
+ | With a snort of contempt and disgust, Vladimir Kostya slapped heavily at the control interface on the conference room table in front of him, deactivating the view screen and it's broadcast. He had seen the broadcast the day before already, had heard the same short-sighted and ignorant arguments of individuals like the traitor Rebecca Eddington made over and over again with increasing regularity over the past year and then some. As far as he was concerned, such matters were irrelevant and not worth his time or consideration. Something his inner circle of advisers all already knew, and something the leading members of the Neocratic Federalist party (whom had all but begged, pleaded and threatened their one-time long-shot candidate) were also keenly aware of. Irritated by even having to be here on this fine Parisian afternoon, Vladimir Kostya turned his focus to the man seated across from him at the far end of the conference table and informed him rather succinctly, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Cole, Mister President," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Convincingly feigning what had long ago been coined as a ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | President Kostya starred across the length of the conference room table at Marcus Cole for a long and healthy moment, his expression fairly inscrutable even to those who knew him best. For his part, Marcus Cole did not flinch beneath the gaze of one of the most powerful - if not the most powerful individual in the totality of the known universe. He simply continued to pleasantly look back at the President of the United Federation of Planets, his own expression neither one of challenge nor surrender. For that reason, and for the fatigue Vladimir Kostya felt at the realization that should he end this meeting at this stage, it would only ratchet the volume of whining and complaining up by several decibels, the leader of the free galaxy leaned back in his chair and said, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Every one of Kostya' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For the past few weeks," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kostya had to admit, if only to himself, at being intrigued by younger man's self-assured idea. Still, based upon the broadcast topic and the fact that Cole had queued up such back onto the screen, Vladimir could anticipate where this discussion was going and remained intransigent in his position concerning the tactical imperative doctrine. Should he feel it truly necessary, he was more than willing to cede some sort of trivial matter here or there for the betterment of his overall agenda. Such was the way of politics, the give and take. So long as he always got more than he gave, he was willing to play the game to a degree. Repealing the doctrine though was simply out of the question. "If you're about to suggest that I repeal the tactical imperative doctrine-" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course not, sir," Cole interrupted, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Slightly surprised, Kostya queried, " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, I'm not a registered member of any party, of course. Corporate appearances and all... you understand." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That I do," replied the President, his opinion of the man warming slightly at the probability of shared ideals and values. "So, what's your brilliant idea then, Mister Cole?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, let me preface by saying up-front that, by virtue of the subject of my proposal, I know your initial reaction isn't going to be a positive one. That said, if you'll hear me out beyond your first instinct sir, I'm certain you'll see the logic in my proposal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding his head ever so slightly, Kostya sat up in his chair and put his elbows on the table. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning to the view screen, he keyed in a sequence and brought up a visual of a Galaxy-Class starship soaring through the upper reaches of Earth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The sight of the Republic brought back a multitude of angry memories for Vladimir Kostya, something everyone on his staff knew very well. He had nearly burst a blood vessel when the ship had been summarily inducted into the Ships of the Line Museum on the grounds of Starfleet Command a few weeks after Re-Day and a further few weeks until the election. He had been sorely tempted to decry the induction of such a ship to such an elite and noble group of honorifics. For all the trouble the ship and her crew had caused him, it hardly deserved to be held in the same regards as such storied ships as the Phoenix, the NX-01, the Daedalus, the Farragut, the Enterprise 1701, the Excelsior, the Defiant and so on. It was bad enough that Voyager had been inducted upon it's return. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know you're very familiar with the Republic, mister president. I also know that through a handful of her crew, she's caused you quite a fair bit of trouble over the years." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You do your homework, Mister Cole, I'll give you that..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Either despite or because of his contempt for the Republic and her crew, not to mention the minor kinship he felt upon hearing Cole's tale of himself having been fouled by them, Vladimir Kostya had to admit that he was even more intrigued than he had been earlier. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shaking his head in the affirmative, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nodding, Kostya once again could see where Cole was going and beat him to the punch. "So we christen a new ship named Republic?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before Kostya could offer his own opinion, one of his staff -- a short, rotund Bolian man who looked barely out of college -- objected. "The moratorium on non-tactical ship construction wasn't just about ideology. It specifically references the need to devote key critical resources, which in a war-like atmosphere we can not afford to waste on over-populated, | ||
+ | |||
+ | This time, it was Kostya who beat Cole to the punch. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yes sir?" came the sheepish yet enthusiastic response from the young man-boy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shut up." commanded Kostya simply. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Sorry sir," replied Tem, appropriately chastised. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Turning his attention back to Cole, Kostya gestured for him to continue. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As I was saying, each of these ships is very near completion anyway. It would only take eight weeks to complete the worst-off amongst them, the Intrepid-Class ship and a little less than two weeks to finish the best of them, the Luna-Class. Which is the one I believe we should christen as the new Republic, sir. The beauty of this is elegant in it's simplicity. By finishing these three vessels and sending them into active service, you give your opposition and your critics a hollow victory." | ||
+ | |||
+ | He then went on to detail the specifics, this time as he began a clockwise pace around the table. "Since they were already well under construction prior to the doctrine, you're not violating it in a technical sense because a conservative reading of such clearly states that no ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | A few long moments passed in silence once it was clear that Cole, now once against standing beside the president, was relatively finished. No matter what the actual opinions of Kostya' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Crouching down on his haunches in front of the president, he went over the last truly important detail. "In an ideal world, you could assign a crew of loyal neo-federalists to be in charge of this new Republic, and that would be that. As I'm sure you're aware though, this is not an ideal world. Not by far. If you stack this ship with party loyalists, or for that matter anyone outside of the former Republic' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, I'm not terribly concerned with Captain Roth, or rather I should say Captain Dorian," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That, mister president, is where the most beautiful element of this whole plan comes into play," revealed Cole, the mischievous grin once again washing over his features as he stood up and began moving once more along the length of the table back towards the front of the room. "As much as you loath them, I can only imagine they likewise loath you. Imagine how grating it will be to all of them to be reunited only to realize that they are so squarely under your thumb? How depressing it will be as they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now it was Kostya' | ||
+ | Standing up from conference table, everyone else present followed suit as Kostya straightened the suit jacket he wore before taking a few steps towards the pair of transparent aluminum doors, each of which was etched with half of the Federation seal. Stopping as his security detailed opened the doors for him, he looked back at Cole for a moment before saying, "Just remember, Mister Cole. If this plan of yours should back-fire... it was 500 years ago upon the ground this structure is built where the Guillotine was first used with rather resounding success. I'd hate to see someone I'd put my faith in let me down the same way Louis XVI let down his subjects, wouldn' | ||