Flynt
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I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Dec 29, 2016 18:47:01 GMT
Archanis' sun had just come over the horizon as Risha and her cubs reached the spaceport. There were just enough clouds in the sky to break the beams of light into prismatic arcs.
"Ooooohhh! Pretty!" called the twins in unison.
"Yes, it looks like it should be a beautiful day. Where's the arrivals board?"
A large Ferasan in combat armor called over, "Go to the right 50 meters."
Risha looked back and nodded. "Thank you."
"Keep the kids out of the way of the baggage sleds!"
Risha sighed and shook her head as she gathered the children and headed to the board. "Let's see, SS Lemur, VSV T'Pring, FCS Uber--what a strange name for a Ferengi ship. Here it is, RXS Orion's Belt, landing pad 21."
"Is it far, mother?" asked her oldest.
"Not very. Looks like about 75 meters to the west, for the waiting area at least. And look, the map shows a food kiosk."
"Yay! Breakfast!" cried the children, and the family set out down the concourse. "Momma, is that the Ferengi ship?"
"Mm-hmm. Looks like it. Good job. Now which one is the Vulcan ship?"
"Ummm, that one?" They pointed to a triangular ship floating almost directly above them.
"Good guess, but no. The T'Pring is a D'Kyr class starship. They have a circular section aft of the triangle."
"Whoa, so a starship can land?" "Wow, you know a lot, momma." "So what's that one then?"
"Not sure. Looks a bit like a Bajoran transport, but the nacelles are ... Aha, it's a Dopterian ship. See that logo on the side of the nose?"
"Neat. Look! Food!" The children raced off to the kiosk to begin their morning selection of Klingon cuisine. Risha was pleased that their palates had adapted pretty well to the protein heavy diets. Though she and Kiso still enjoyed meat frequently, she had tried to raise the children on a more balanced, Caitian-friendly diet. She ordered their meals, then escorted them to seats in the viewing area.
"So, it looks like the RXS Orion's Belt is a Risian Corvette. Who knows what that looks like?"
"Mph, mmmeeee!" called the oldest through a mouthful of gagh.
"Chew first, then answer, silly."
The boy swallowed, "It looks like two canoes joined by bridges."
"OK, and what's that design called?"
This time the twins giggled their answer, "A CAT-amaran!" Even Risha laughed at the pun, and the family continued enjoying their morning meal.
About them, the spaceport's activity level increased. Archanis sun had left the horizon far behind, rising into a cloudless sky, and the Dopterian ship above them slowly rose higher in the atmosphere on its way into orbit. It's shadow was replaced briefly by the T'Pring on its way to a berth a kellicam away. Wings of To'duj fighters flitted about the area on their security patrols.
Finally, the twin-hulled corvette appeared in the sky. "Look, momma! Grampa's here!" The cubs jumped up and scampered to the window overlooking the landing pad. Risha slowly stood, dusted herself off, then gathered and disposed of their trash.
Her oldest called over while she was looking away. "Momma, why did it stop?" Risha turned to see that the ship had paused its descent at about 500 meters above the surface.
"That's a good question, V'ruk. Could be their landing struts aren't functioning correctly." She smiled, "You're the boy who wants to be a pilot, what else could it be?"
"Hmmm, maybe the didn't vent their drive plasma properly before entering the atmosphere, or maybe..."
His explanation was interrupted by a groaning noise from above, followed by klaxons sounding about them. While the children looked about and covered their ears, Risha's instincts kicked in and she dove to cover her children. Behind her, she felt a large mass do the same for her and her oldest.
A moment later, the corvette erupted from the inside out, showering the spaceport with debris and flame. Its engines blown, the remaining spaceframe gave way to gravity, plummeting quickly to ground. The ship's impact sent waves of concrete flying through the air, hammering the concourse as well as nearby landing pads.
To Risha, it seemed as the world was collapsing on her as the person over covered her tightly. She could swear that she heard the windows shatter and the roof collapse as the landing pad chaotically dispersed itself. She could smell the plasma fire about the area, along with the smell of charred flesh. The klaxons seemed more distant, while the sound of fighters roaring came closer.
The figure behind her pushed itself up. "Come! We must move now!" Without thinking, Risha picked up the twins and turned to run. V'ruk leapt out of the stranger's hands and started to scamper down the corridor, his mother and sisters behind him. The stranger followed after them, shouting directions along the way. "The emergency shelter is ahead and on the left, just past the entrance!"
She and her son followed his directions turning into the shelter doorway. Before heading down the stairs, she turned back to see who had helped her. For some reason, she knew that she'd see the burly Ferasan who had greeted them earlier. She watched as he charged back down the concourse, disappearing into the smoke and dust. Then she turned and headed downwards.
Several minutes later, she found a corner where she felt safe enough to let go of her daughters, both of whom had been crying softly the whole time. She sat down, only to have them climb back to her arms. Her son, seated on the ground, looked up at her and spoke a one word question. "Grampa?"
She could only shake her head, then reach out to her boy and hug him and his siblings together.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Dec 30, 2016 23:24:08 GMT
"Your report, lieutenant!"
"Landing ports 21, 22, and 23 destroyed. Heavy damage to the southwest portion of the spaceport, and to the warehouse district outside the port, where as many as 20 buildings were hit by debris or plasma. Temporary forcefields and checkpoints erected where the security perimeter was destroyed. Lesser damage to the central and eastern portions of the port. Minimal debris to the north. Fires have been contained as of this morning."
"Estimated casualties?"
"175 dead, 485 injured. The deceased count includes the crew and passengers of the Orion's Belt, dock workers, firefighters, customs officers, and the employees of a D'ian-owned warehose in the warehouse district."
"They exploded at an optimal height to spread damage," came a voice from the back.
"So you've ruled out an accident, K'Kanuc?"
"Not completely, my lord, but it seems likely based on the pattern developing."
"The other warehouse district fires and thefts. Your sources have provided leads, I expect."
K'Kanuc sighed. "They provided leads on two possibilities. A gang war between D'ian's people and a group of Ferasan mercenaries; or Gorn separatists."
"And what else, K'Kanuc? Your tone suggests more."
"I've seen some patterns similar to the Federation's espionage on Q'onos several cycles ago. Some of the same names, if not faces, coming on and off planet recently."
The Ferasan security officer piped in, "The Federation would not be so stupid as to re-use identities. I believe it is the Gorn."
A smaller Klingon at the back sneered sarcastically, "Of course you do. Ferasans, even mercenaries, are above reproach. Otherwise you'd have dealt with that group of thugs already."
The Ferasan started forward. "Take care in how you speak, G'dan, or I'll remove your other arm and stuff it down your throat."
"Mev'yap!" called Ka'rel as he pulled his knife and stabbed the table. "I will have order here, if no where else on this world." Silence befell the room, and G'Dan retreated a couple steps. Ka'rel was notoriously slow to anger. If any had doubted the seriousness of this situation, they no longer did.
"C'Raak, continue your investigation into the exploded ship. I want details on the ship's journey here, its owners, its crew, its passengers. Find their flight recorders.
"K'Kanuc, take the same task. Any connections between the people on that ship and the targets here on Archanis, I want to know.
"G'Dan, contact K'Vok. He has a knack for uncovering conspiracies. I want him to begin gathering intelligence. Send him to Risa. And if his orders conflict, get me his commanding officer.
"The rest of you, continue to coordinate clean-up efforts and increase the security sweeps through the city.
"NOW!"
The members of Ka'rel's inner circle swiftly moved off to their duties. Ka'rel walked back to the table, withdrew the D'k tahg from the table and closed its quillions. He bowed his head before it momentarily, as if in apology for a misuse, then sheathed it at his hip.
"My lord, a word?"
"Something unclear about your orders, Lieutenant Kuutto?"
The burly Ferasan replied, "No Governor, only an additional report." The Federation envoy and her family have returned safely to their residence. I have increased security around that portion of the palace compound. She has requested to see you immediately. She is ... quite angry."
"Yes, she has that reputation. I appreciate your assistance in guarding her movements despite your ... inclinations to the contrary."
"My lord, duty and honor to family, and to your post come first. For the time, our feud with the outcasts waits for a later hour of retribution. Until then, I will hold my post without reservation."
"Very well then. Go to it."
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Dec 31, 2016 22:08:13 GMT
"You want what?" barked Ka'rel at his visitor. It was the first time he raised his voice in the conversation that had so far been a one-sided barrage of anger.
"Did the explosions at the spaceport damage your hearing as badly as they did my child? I want a Starfleet security investigation into this incident."
"An investigation is already underway. Lieutenant Kuotto ..."
"...Answers to you and to the Empire. I want an independent investigation, one that will provide answers to both our governments."
"Are you questioning my integrity, Envoy?"
"I'm questioning your officers' effectiveness, Governor, as well as their motivation to provide me with the same answers they would provide you."
She paused and let the heat of the moment drop. Risha was slightly surprised to see Ka'rel do the same. However, they still held each other's stares.
"You know I'm within my rights to increase the Federation presence needed for diplomatic operations."
"Yes, YOUR operations. You're not entitled to create a military presence on a Klingon world."
"A five person security and forensics team is hardly a military presence. If I weren't asking for the courtesy of giving them full cooperation, their presence would almost go unnoticed."
Ka'rel grumbled before responding. "Some of our citizens have longer memories of such things."
"Meaning what, exactly. The sight of Starfleet officers reminds them of the war?"
"Yes, they remember that the Federation was not always an honorable opponent or a, what is the word, good neighbor."
"I see. Well I would think that it would reinforce the image of the Alliance if we were both investigating what could be a threat against both governments."
"You do not understand. We will not appear weak in the face of this enemy!"
"Give me a break. You're not even sure who the enemy may be. In the past, the Empire reached out to the Federation when faced with this uncertainty. Did you look weak when you needed Picard to serve as Arbiter of Succession, or when the Enterprise-D uncovered Romulan espionage at Krios? There are at least a dozen other precedents in recent history for joint investigations. I could elaborate further if ..."
"Enough. I am aware of the precedents. They do not change the facts that this city and this planet are not yet ready for a formal Starfleet presence. This incident alone will delay that eventuality by several months, if not years. I cannot allow Starfleet to have free access to Klingon territory to perform a public investigation. Is that understood, Envoy?"
Risha had a retort brimming on her tongue as to how the Klingon thought she was someone to order around, but she bit it back. Pausing and taking a breath, she replied slowly but firmly, "Yes, Governor, I believe I understand you completely."
"Good. Is there anything else?"
"Yes. Call off the stalker. Maybe if you'd had Kuotto investigating the same rumors I've been hearing, instead of following me around the city, this might have been avoided. Good day, Governor."
---
Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of Quark's Bar, Grill, Gaming House and Holosuite Arcade...
"I expected more damage in the Warehouse District. Only one of Melani's storage depots was destroyed."
"Eh, blame the wind, and that ridiculousss hull design."
"You said your explosive would provide a uniform pattern of damage."
"It would have if your 'pilot' had held altitude throughout the explosssion ssequencsse."
"Yes, well finding qualified, suicidal help these days is rather a challenge. Most of those so inclined hurled themselves at the Heralds." The first speaker took a sip of green liquid and smiled.
"I take it the flight recorder was modified as instructed."
"Yesss. They should find the recording sssoon."
"Good. This will be our last direct meeting for a while. I wish you luck with your crusade."
"And you with yoursss. You'll know where to find me."
The odd pair nodded to each other once more, then the second turned to depart. The first picked up the drink again and lingered over it for several seconds before finishing it. The next meeting wasn't for several hours. Enough time to use the holosuite for its normal purpose, as opposed to a clandestine meeting space.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Feb 1, 2017 4:40:31 GMT
Waiting was never his strong suit.
S'Garrk puttered around his workshop outside the starport, waiting for a visit that seemed to be late. That was if that idiot Ferengi Zork was telling the truth.
He picked up a spanner and thwacked it on a piece of wall padding. He mused at it for a moment, then held it closer to his aural membrane to listen to it hum like a tuning fork.
An idea sparked to life and he moved to his desk, pulling out an oversized padd for design. Within a few minutes, he had sketched out the rough workings for a primitive, sound-activated trigger. He played with the measurements, trying to scale the size and keep the same frequency range. He cocked his head to the side and looked at the figures. Not bad.
A light flashed behind the desk.
"Thisss better be him," he grumbled as he saved his work. As he moved towards the door, he took a moment to sniff at a large beaker of bubbling pink goo. Smiling, he put a lid on the jar and continued forward. He reached the door just as the buzzer sounded.
"nuqneH!" He preferred the Klingon word to other forms of greeting. It conveyed so many thoughts at once, most important being the indication that the newcomer was intruding on his time.
"It's me."
"Who's that?"
"Me. Zork, you dope. Open up before someone sees me."
S'Garrk sighed and opened the door. "Who'sss going to see you that would care? Thisss is a machinnne shop. People come here regularly."
"I'm supposed to be picking up a package at the spaceport for Qwen." The Ferengi paused to look around, even though the room had but one window with the blinds down. "He's got ears everywhere."
"You worry too much."
"Yeah, well worrying is how I've protected myself so far in life. Why stop now?"
"Why are you here?" snapped S'Garrk, rather literally. As he finished speaking, he left his teeth bared mere centimeters from Zork's nose.
"What do you mean, why am I here?"
"You said a Klingon was going to come looking for me two weeks ago. He's not here. You are. You have wasted my time enough."
Zork held his palms up and open, wrists together. The typical Ferengi submission maneuver. "Whoa. Easy there big guy." S'Garrk grumbled and backed off slightly, but crossed his arms and continued to menace his guest. "I think I have an explanation for that, and a new request from my other employer."
"Which isss?"
"Which which is which?"
"The explanation, you walking tree toad."
"Oh. Right. The Tzenkethi."
"What about them?"
"Hmm? Oh they seem to be attacking Alpha Quadrant frontier worlds. My sources suggest that the Klingon visitor may have been redeployed to those sectors."
"That sounnnds dubiousss, even without being loaded with sssppecculationn."
"I agree. Definitely. Very annoying. Especially since now Starfleet may send someone as well."
"What about thiss requesst?"
Zork grinned strangely. "Oh just that I should compensate you for your trouble."
"Heh. Good. Freeing the homeworld requiresss resourcesss." He turned his back to Zork and began to reach for a small padd. "Credits or latinum?"
"Both..." spoke Zork, as he unfurled his energy whip. In a moment, the air was ionized by the snap-hiss of the whip coming to life, and discharging a bolt into the back of the Gorn's neck. S'Garrk threw his head back and began to howl, but before he could turn, another energy charge caught him in at the base of his spine. Stunned, the Gorn fell stiffly to the floor.
"... and neither." Zork walked over and picked up the Gorn's padd and paired it with his own, authorizing a transfer of funds, then making another transfer to a different account. Looking around, he noticed the jar of pink goo. "I bet that'll take care of this padd." He lifted the lid, dropped the padd inside, and watched it slowly sink within the bubbling ooze."
Zork then started to rummage around the workshop. "Walking tree toad, indeed. Idiot isn't even all that big for a male of the species." He spied the design padd and picked it up. "Hmmm. DNA key, eh? I'm sure he won't mind me borrowing some of his. He won't be needing it anymore." The Ferengi knelt down and pulled out a Gorn disruptor, set it to a low energy level, and severed the Gorn's left manus. Taking the claw in hand, he tapped it to the padd, revealing the latest design. "What the, ohhhh. I see. This'll help nicely." He powered off the padd, stuffing it and the manus into a bag.
He picked up the disruptor again, and began adjusting the settings. "You really should clean your workspace more often, S'Garrk. I see so many fire hazards about, like that..." Zork pulled the trigger, releasing a beam of energy sufficient to light a pile of cloth on fire. He followed that with a bolt to an eps conduit, a wooden cabinet, an unlabeled chemical barrel, and a hammock.
"Euuggh, should have waited to do the barrel last." Zork then tapped his padd twice. "See ya, big guy," he called as a transporter beam removed him from the increasing heat and smoke of the room.
As the beam began to dematerialize the Ferengi, S'Garrk's eyes rolled slowly in the direction of the glitterstorm. He mentally cursed the Ferengi, and them himself for turning his back. He then turned his eyes toward the giant beaker.
Dammit. the cotton candy was smelling so good.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Mar 9, 2017 22:58:47 GMT
"You know you almost gaaave yoursssself away, talking to that Makara woman."
"I realize that. I deflected her concerns well enough. Anyway, who is she to lecture me on how to direct my energies. Another Federation do-gooder who's never around when people are actually oppressed."
"Sssoooo, do you want to give her a taste of what you feeeell?"
"No. Ignore her and her ilk. However, I would like to finally use that cargo we diverted. Do we have enough for all the targets I asked about?"
"Yessss. Plenty. An amazingly simple formula, but verrry powerful. The targetsss will be nothing but rrrubble."
"Good, then get it done, and make sure the dolls are sent."
***
G'dan came down the steps from the entryway to the courtyard, and paused. Once, this manor was the home to K'Met and Lady L'Notlh, proud members of the Great House of Cha'lak. Before the Iconian war, the courtyard would be alive with the activities of family and servants. The manor would frequently host gatherings of allies of the house, as well as celebrations honoring victorious warriors returning from the field. While many of the same activities took place at the Governor's palace, the Cha'Lak's took pride at being less reserved than the formal affairs hosted by Ka'rel or his predecessor.
As he entered the corridor towards the servant's quarters, he paused to note the still present signs of battle, from the day that the Iconians brought this branch of the house down. He shook his head, silently cursing the day, but remembering that his cousins had journeyed to Sto'vo'kor. Since then, G'dan had taken on the mission of restoring the manor, rebuilding its walls and returning it to productivity, though it was unlikely he would ever get to reside there personally. He fully expected that one of K'Met's sons would make a claim, though he also feared that Governor Ka'rel would grant it to one of his house if the manor went unpopulated. G'dan cursed the thought.
Turning a corner, he reached the hallway leading to the Orion slave dens. Again he paused, spotting another scorched wall, one that outlined the body of a Klingon who had been vaporized by a Herald's weapon. While he stood there, lost in thought, a guard approached from the direction of the dens.
"Adjutant G'dan, you should not be here."
"You are W'Klaa, correct? These halls are my own as much as they are yours."
"You mistake my meaning. A couple slaves reported a gas leak. We are investigating."
G'dan paused and smelled the air. "What kind of gas? All I detect is the stench of Targ hides composting with the Wistan gagh droppings."
W'Klaa nodded, "I too only smell the compost. Our orders stand to keep this section secure until..."
Suddenly, the far wall of the corridor, about 30 meters away, exploded towards the two men. For a moment, G'dan stood stunned, but the young security guard kept his bearings and pulled G'dan around the corner, providing temporary shelter from the blast. They crouched and listened as the walls and ceiling groaned under increased pressure after the loss of a load-bearing wall. "We must go!" shouted W'Klaa.
G'dan looked at him, "What of the Orions? The other servants?"
"Sir, that explosion, too near the dens for any survivors. They are slaves anyway. There is no glory in their rescue. Now come!" With that, the two ran back to the courtyard, where they found other members of the house moving about quickly. Some evacuating, others arming themselves, still others preparing firefighting gear in case the fire spread. From outside the manor walls, they could hear the sounds of fire shuttles approaching, though several flew past without slowing.
G'dan looked at another guard, "Are those fools blind? Why don't they stop?"
"Adjutant, we counted at least three other explosions throughout the city, at almost the same time as what hit us. The palace reports four other explosions in the countryside."
G'dan cursed the villains responsible and swore vengeance.
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Flynt
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I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Mar 11, 2017 17:16:35 GMT
Lieutenant Kuutto frowned over the reports coming in. Eight explosions across the capital and three more in the countryside. All of them targeting House Cha'lak holdings or businesses--Orion-run businesses--that served the House. Someone was carrying out a vendetta, and doing so without honor. That meant trouble for him unless he could get to the bottom of it quickly.
For a moment, he pondered K'Kanuc's suggestion to ask the Federation envoy for assistance. The Starfleet forensic analysis team she brought in was highly thorough at identifying the cause of the starship disaster. Moreover, they did so discreetly without drawing attention to their presence.
No, not yet. There were pieces to the puzzle he needed to see first before he would put trust in the Caitian female's hands. Why all of these specific targets? Why attack in the early evening? What explosives could they have used to avoid detection by the House guards, and what of the rumored gas leak?
So far, there was only one clue to follow. A twelfth bomb site was discovered undetonated. Oddly, it was next to a Gorn-owned business. His teams were analyzing the components and would return soon with what they had found. He hoped it would lead to answers.
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Flynt
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I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Mar 13, 2017 1:06:24 GMT
"A doll." Ka'rel blinked in amazement at the report. "A plaything?"
"Yes, my lord, a stuffed toy, dressed as, well, Councillor Cha'lak."
"Tell me again where you found this toy."
G'dan recounted how the manor staff found it in a package near the entrance steps, moments before the explosions ripped through the city. On inspection, they found that the toy included a small microphone built into a mek'leth, which had been stabbed through the doll's chest. The staff relayed how they had yelled and removed the sword, which was followed by the explosions.
Ka'rel simmered his anger at the obscenity of the gesture. An attack by a hidden enemy using a child's toy as a trigger. Outrageous. No Klingon would act in such a fashion, but there were many others who might. "What about the other site?"
The burly Ferasan stepped to the table and laid out a pile of dirt mixed with a white compound, a beaker of liquid, and a small metal box.
"These are the components of a sophisticated yet simple explosive. Ammonium nitrate," Kuutto pointed to the pile of dirt, "ethanol and a trigger system rigged to activate based on a specific frequency. The trigger also contains an electromagnetic receiver on the same frequency as the microphone in the toy."
"I now understand the gas leak perception." G'dan nodded at his realization. "The ethanol and fertilizer would have smelled like a gas line."
Ka'rel nodded as well, but grumbled. "Ingenious. Materials that we couldn't confiscate easily without upsetting the local economy."
"Actually," responded Kuutto, "that's not completely true, my lord. This stock of dirt and fertilizer did not originate on Archanis or any nearby systems. It originated on Earth."
Ka'rel powered his fist into the table. "Earth? Why would anyone bring dirt from somewhere else to use as explosives? Stop acting like this is a Bolian crime holo, and start producing conclusions!"
Kuutto cleared his throat, clearly shaken by the outburst. "Yes, my lord. Obviously, we will check shipping manifests for indications as to who brought the components here."
K'Kanuc joined the discussion. "We've found that the trigger device has a workmark, a signature that the maker has..." Ka'rel threw a withering gaze that stifled further elaboration. "This device was made by S'Garrk, the Gorn engineer and separatist sympathizer. Intelligence reports that he works at the main spaceport on Risa."
"I want him here now. This kind of explosive is exactly what he would create. Kuutto, see to it yourself. K'Kanuc, coordinate the ship search with the Federation envoy. G'dan, you will coordinate security and see that all rival gang factions are apprehended and questioned."
Kuutto nodded and prepared to leave, but Ka'rel caught him flat-footed, holding him tightly by his shoulder armor. The governor directed one last outburst towards the Ferasan and the others present.
"We have wasted time on protecting our pride instead of protecting our people! That ends now! You serve a higher purpose here, and we will provide order! Now move or be fed to the targs!"
Ka'rel released Kuutto's armor and shoved him towards the door. Kuutto caught a glance of G'dan in his forward movement. Was he excited?
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Flynt
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I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Mar 29, 2017 1:42:51 GMT
Ka'rel entered his private office and flung down several PADDs onto the obscenely large table intended as his desk. "Computer, no interruptions for the next hour. No, the next cycle!"
"yaj," came the mechanical response of the computer. The simple affirmative was followed by the more important sounds of the door being locked and a subspace and radio dampening field being applied.
The governor shook his head at the ridiculous precautions. He had known K'Kanuc was a bit paranoid before, but his increased concern about every transmission since learning the bombs were detonated with radio signals apparently put the old spy over the edge. G'dan, who was usually staid to the point of boredom, instead seemed almost thrilled to encourage K'Kanuc's protectiveness.
Outside the palace, G'dan was making the most of his temporary charge of security. Arrests in the warehouse district were up 200%, and a permanent patrol was established outside all House Cha'lak properties. He grumbled at that. House security should be the responsibility of the house, particularly a Great House with a seat on the High Council. Still, crime was down, for the moment.
"You can drain a keg of powder, but people's sorrows will refill it quickly if they still suffer." He recited his mother's words, as he had so many times before, wondering how to solve the bigger problems of the world, while also tending to the fire that burned before him.
He realized at that moment, that the problems were related. At the least, one was a subset of the greater issues. Someone had suffered deeply enough to mount a primitive insurrection, and with surprisingly few witnesses. Such a thing shouldn't be possible. And he paused to wonder if this interloper might have higher assistance.
Ka'rel found he was gazing on the picture of his par'mach'kai, the Lady Kolana. Her stern visage shook him of his meanderings, and silently encouraged him back to his desk. He remained proud of her, and respected her care of him, at least as much as he respected her temperament. She was not one to spend time on philosophy or suspicions, and were she present, instead of patrolling the Republic border with the Imperial Romulan remnant, she would likely give him a plate of targ and tell him to work it out until it was done.
Sitting at the desk, he returned to reviewing the PADDs. K'Vok found the dolls were made by a Romulan on Deep Space Nine, under contract from an Orion woman. Meanwhile, Kuutto discovered that S'Garrk was dead, his workshop on Risa burned down with S'Garrk inside, stunned by a Ferengi energy whip. At least that's what the security footage revealed.
The Federation's information on the ships that brought the explosives was extensive. Xepolite freighters owned and operated by CleanWay Interstellar LLC, which turned out to be a Ferengi holding company with a handful of employees. namely ship captains, stevedores, and an orion female.
Everything started to point to this Inara, and yet loose ends flailed in the wind. He hoped that K'Kanuc could learn what he needed from the Syndicate's resources before his mind cracked. Trying to get information on their operatives directly meant making concessions that he did not want to make.
A tone sounded from the door.
"nuqneH Computer! I told you no interruptions for a cycle!"
"An hour has elapsed. The Federation Envoy requests an audience."
"Fine, open." The magnetic locks released with a clack, and the hydraulic doors opened with a hiss from inside the wall.
"Envoy Hsunu. This is not a g..."
"No Ka'rel, it's not. I'm here about your sister."
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Post by norcaler on Apr 1, 2017 3:31:06 GMT
"What the hell is going on?" asked HaqwI' Melea, the Orion medical officer of the I.K.S. HoS'ro' as she entered the bridge. "We're barely here an hour and the captain's ordered a crew recall?"
"We do not know why he has," replied the first officer, Lieutenant Commander K'Uhlayr, as she stood next to the captain's throne. "Just that he has."
"I was halfway to Quark's for some dabo and drinks when..."
"That place is a waste of your time," said Moruk, the elder Klingon chief engineer. "Now if you wish for a real experience, spend time at the Klingon restaurant. Ambassador Korroth is on the station; the stories he spins can provide entertainment for nights on end."
"Only if you can stomach them, Husband," noted science officer Karune, (obviously) his mate. "The man has more stories to tell than a loresinger."
"Look, with all this Tzenkethi business and the bombings on Archanis, shore leave's in short supply these days," Melea explained in an annoyed tone. "I can't believe he didn't even give even the slightest reason why..."
"If you want, Princess, we can drop you off on Risa on our way back," chided Lynnush, the ship's helm officer and a ruddy Orion as opposed to Melea's green complexion. She always seemed to take great glee in the medical officer's misfortunes. "Maybe even shove you out the airlock so we don't waste..."
"Status!" barked Captain K'Vok as he entered the bridge. Melea had known the captain since he had been first assigned the HoS'ro' four turns ago and it was seldom that he was in this obvious a foul mood. Even the way he practically dropped himself into his seat conveyed a sense of frustration not seen in a while.
"All personnel aboard, Captain," K'Uhlayr reported.
"Ops has cleared us for departure," said R'og, the diminutive Gorn who served as weapon's officer.
"Very well, seal the airlock, release docking clamps. Aft thrusters at one quarter; port and starboard at station keeping."
"Releasing clamps," Lynnush reported, which sent an audible thud through the bridge. Melea found the nearest station to lean against as the bird of prey pulled back from Deep Space 9's docking ring. Even after all these turns she found space travel somewhat...intimidating. Military service was far from the first career choice when she was a medical student, but then the Klingon Empire that ruled over her people saw fit to draft her.
Her small, gray-skinned counterpart whipped the HoS'ro' around and jetted past the fleet of ships orbiting the station with what the HaqwI' mentally complained was bordering on reckless abandon. Once the view screen was clear of other vessels, she reported, "We are clear and free to navigate."
"Set course for Archanis," K'Vok ordered. "Once we are out of sensor range of Deep Space 9 and the ships around it, engage cloaking device and proceed at best possible speed."
"Aye, Captain."
"Sir," R'og prefaced. "I don't have to remind you that traveling at warp while under cloak would mean it'd take days to reach Archanis, perhaps a week."
"I am aware of this, Lieutenant," K'Vok said with a sneer. "Carry out my order."
"...uh...yes sir."
"Captain, shall we advise Governor Ka'rel of our arrival?" asked K'Uhlayr.
"Negative. We are operating under radio silence until further notice. I will have the head of anyone who attempts any subspace transmission. Is that clear?!" There was a very brief pause before everyone on the bridge acknowledged it all at once. It certainly was far from unusual for a Klingon captain to bark orders to their crew, however as far as Melea knew (which as the ship's surgeon meant she knew less than most), there seemed to be little reason for K'Vok's sudden aggression.
"Sir, I would ask why." That statement from the first officer under a less understanding captain might have been considered mutinous and for a moment Melea feared K'Vok was not in a forgiving mood. He rose from his throne and glared at her momentarily.
Rather than strike her or Kahless forbid kill her, he replied with, "I have reason to believe the perpetrators of the attacks on Archanis may have broken the House of Ka'rel's encryption protocols based on what I learned on Deep Space 9. You have the bridge, Commander."
"Uh, sir?" Melea asked hesitantly as K'Vok turned to leave. "What exactly would that news be?"
He paused long enough to say over his shoulder, "They tried to kill my mother!"
The captain stormed out, leaving a rather glaring silence on the bridge. The HaqwI' chose to broke it by awkwardly saying, "Well...I guess that explains everything, doesn't it?"
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Apr 5, 2017 2:58:00 GMT
K'Kanuc's office in the Governor's palace was practically a command center. Along the great wall of the room, stood two dozen monitors with images drawn from around the planet and across the Empire. Along the short wall at the room's far end, stood another six monitors displaying various mug shots and criminal activity reports. His desk, more of a communications console from a Bortasqu' bridge, facesd the great wall, and held a stack of PADDs along with streaming updates from various intelligence sources.
Opposite the short wall stood the lone door to the office. It was, of course, sealed as if in anticipation of an attack. The secrets of the Empire and the Alliance worlds flowed through these quarters, and it wouldn't do to be the officer responsible for leaking what should not be leaked--at least not until doing so would be actionable.
Behind the desk, the room narrowed to a triangle. The room had once been larger, but K'Kanuc had chosen to install shield emitters, transport dampeners, and an electronic counter measures suite into what had been the corners of the room. He then walled the devices off from view. replacing them with a traditional display of weapons on one wall and a large painting accompanied by several small portraits on the other. He stood before the painting, an image of a prehistoric Praxis, before it had been sullied by Hurq and strip mined to destruction by his own people. At the corner of his vision, the portrait below and to the left of the painting appeared to stir and groan.
"I see you there. Do not interrupt." K'Kanuc spoke to the wall. He then turned and walked over to the surveillance wall. "Hmm. G'Dan is back at his old quarters in House Cha'lak. What does he see in that wreckage of a house? His duties as steward do not require him to be on premise. Yet he stalks the halls on nights when he is not required here."
"Perhaps he is haunted by his past, par'mach'kai. Something you should understand."
"Gah. Be gone woman. This is not the time for your theatrics."
"Fine. Ignore me. Again."
K'Kanuc grunted approval and turned back to his displays. He hovered near the right hand side, nearest the displays of criminals. Something had caught his eye. Rather the lack of something. The dossier on S'Garrk, the apparently deceased Gorn engineer, for all the rumors of separatist leanings, he lacked connections with anyone known as either an aggressor or organizer. That didn't rule him out as a possible lone wolf, but there were other pieces that didn't fit.
"Blink and you'll miss it, my love."
"What?"
Nothing but silence behind him. And yet, a spark of thought. Moving to his desk, he re-opened the recording that Kuutto had sent from the Gorn's workshop. This time he began playback before the Ferengi appeared at the shed. He watched as the Gorn pick up a tool and listen to it, then work at what must be a drafting PADD. As the Gorn walked to the door, he paused and enhanced the display.
There he saw the design for the explosive trigger device, albeit an incomplete version. As the recording played, he watched the padd go blank then revert to a lock screen. The lighting on playback changed suddenly, from the energy whip at first, then the fire which was closer to the camera. He started to return the view to a wider frame, when he noticed the bloody manus applied to the PADD, activating the display, and as he continued to pan back, he saw, for a moment, the Ferengi holding the hand and downloading the data.
Marking a dead end, literally, on pursuing S'Garrk's participation. The Ferengi, identified as Zork, had connections of both a murkier and more dangerous nature. Known business partners included many businesses and operatives on Archanis, including Gorn and the Syndicate.
And House Cha'lak.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Apr 9, 2017 4:41:37 GMT
Risha's log entryRisha tapped the button on her desk to submit the log recording. She hadn't recorded a log that dismal since her last murder trial. She especially disliked having to be so negative about Ka'rel's prospects as Governor. But she knew that if she was seeing this, the High Council was definitely taking note. She didn't want to disrespect an ally and a friend to the Federation, but the diplomatic corps needed to know. She sighed and moved away from the desk, looking at the list of things she needed to pack for the children. It would only be their second time traveling with her parents, and the first without either her or Kiso. One more time down the list should cover everything. "Envoy, we're receiving an encrypted message for your eyes only from the Diplomatic Corps.""Thanks, Karin. Send it through." What was this going to be? News that the Klingon High Council was sending an "Ambassador?" Or maybe news that the Federation Council was sending an ambassador. Anyone but Sugihara, please. "Computer, apply diplomatic encryption key Alpha five epsilon delta Hsunu six two three zeta." A human female in a Starfleet uniform appeared on the screen, behind her was the logo of Starbase 146. "Envoy Hsunu, my name is Lieutenant Abigail Forrest. Commander Davis sends his warmest regards from his vacation on Azati Prime, and he wanted to share a picture with you that you would appreciate. He says, 'Drinks are on you."The image on the screen changed to a surveillance log of a figure with one hand and burn-scarred flesh entering a Xindi-reptilian medical clinic, followed by a picture of a Gorn leaving the clinic, with mostly healed flesh, but still one hand. In both pictures, the figure was wearing a tropical shirt, he was also being escorted by Starfleet Security officers. She shook her head. "Jimmy, my good ole boy friend, I do owe you."
Inara sat quietly in her quarters on the Risian luxury liner, RXS Mountain Spirit. She had tried everything she could think of to rest, but to little avail. So she simply sat and stared out at the stars redshifting past the ship. She desperately wanted relief, though she knew that she could not let her guard down. She was officially a fugitive, and had been so since she left Deep Space Nine three weeks earlier. In the time since, she had changed ships every second or third day. She had been careful with her credits, and tried not to leave a trail, but wondered when her luck would run out. At some point, she would be cornered, unless her partners helped her get home, or unless they killed her first. From the get go, she knew that might be a result, since the Syndicate tends to tie up loose ends in that way. Maybe that end would be the best and most fitting. She lay down again and hoped she could sleep. Hoped even more she could sleep without repeating the nightmares that led her here. The day of her escape still shone clear in her waking mind, so how could it avoid her sleep. The shock and fear of the Iconian soldiers appearing out of nowhere and attacking the Cha'lak manor, just as they were attacking Cha'lak ships in orbit. They were merciless in shooting down any armed warrior in sight. When the security field on the slave quarters dropped, some of her sisters ran for the corridors towards the courtyard, only to be cut down first by house guards, and then by Iconians who had killed the guards. A tall enemy warrior strode toward her with it's energy lance in hand. She expected the end to come, but the harbinger was instead blasted by a beam, and destroyed. She heard a voice call to her, "Run Inara!" Was that real or just her subconscious? She jumped at the sound at more gunfire and leapt for the exit. Another blast dropped another Iconian that appeared in the hall. She turned to look to see who was defending her escape. She couldn't believe her eyes. A Klingon warrior stood at the end of the corridor. "Now Inara, run!" She ran quickly towards him, but a blast shockwave caught her short of the goal. They were separated by a pile of rubble. She looked about, hearing little but weapons fire and cursing, and then "jol yIchu'!" In moments, she was aware of herself dematerializing and then appearing on a small shuttle piloted by a Gorn. "I am S'threys. You have been freed from service to an unworthy house. Rest in the back. We will be several days to our destination." She tried to take it all in. What it had meant. Why would he rescue her? She sat back up and wondered if she would finally meet him again, and would he stay with her this time...
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Apr 19, 2017 1:45:07 GMT
Kuutto decided to wait at the bar inside Quarks for a few minutes after the strange El Aurian left. Seeing him clutch his head in pain like an adolescent receiving his first augment injections was unnerving. He was glad he had the firewine to help him move past the memories, not to mention the boredom of watching an empty hunting ground. It seemed a good time to review his findings, so he stood made his way to the upper balcony and pulled out a padd.
His original mission on DS9 had long since gone south. The Orion woman, Inara, had left to parts unknown. Her trail grew cold just after she left the Regulus system, courtesy of the Briar Patch. Her contacts here knew nothing of her whereabouts or intentions. He bargained with the Ferengi bartender to get access to surveillance of her and a Gorn that she met a couple times in the holosuite. However, both left the station about the same time, and he was planning to do the same.
That was seven days ago, when K'Kanuc contacted him to initiate a different line of inquiry. A Ferengi, Zork, had apparently acquired the technology for the bombings on Archanis. Moreover, he had business connections to G'dan and House Cha'lak. K'Kanuc asked Kuutto to stay in Federation space, where inquiries into house business affairs would be viewed as standard intelligence gathering, and investigating Ferengi business affairs would be viewed as a public good.
Ferengi records were well-encrypted, and usually provided little of significant value without the proper amount of latinum. Fortunately, Zork had pissed off enough of his competitors that a couple confirmed Zork and G'dan's relationship started shortly after the Dominion War, and that the relationship involved the exchange of "liberated Cardassian property," for future considerations.
Reviewing the Cha'lak records, he found that G'dan had been quite the ruthless marauder, assaulting Romulan, Gorn and neutral targets with equal prejudice. He captured what he could, destroyed what he couldn't capture. Yet the plunder he brought back to Archanis never amounted to nearly as much as his lords or generals thought it should. Some suspected he was profiteering on the side, and he was on the road to discommendation before the war with the Gorn drew him into real battle with the rest of his house. G'dan's prestige increased with some strategic if savage victories, leading to a position as second officer on the house flagship.
He held that role until the invasion of the Gorn homeworld, where he lost his left arm in a boarding action. A Gorn officer had sought to trap G'dan in an airlock, but only caught him in part. The airlock sequence cycling, G'dan called another warrior who hacked the trapped arm off with his bat'leth. G'dan fought to the end of his mission, and beamed back to the infirmary where his military career ended.
As a reward, Cha'lak arranged for G'dan to serve as a gin'tak to House Woldan. Woldan mentored G'dan in the workings of the High Council and the running of the Empire. Before long, G'dan was sent home to Archanis to serve as second to the Governor. It was an opportunity he made the most of, both politically and personally.
Politically, he gathered power and influence among the Archanis business class. As the governor's proxy, he oversaw the integration of the newly vassalized Gorn into the workforce. He took care of the big things and the little things.
Personally, he lived as he believed a heroic warrior should: celebrating his victories with fellow warriors with long stories over barrels of bloodwine. And when the stories ended, he moved on to the women. His reputation in that respect was more savage and less heroic. Despite this, he was seen by many to be the obvious choice as next governor.
The Undine attack on Qo'nos changed everything, starting with the Iconian M'Tara's murder of the High Council. The loss of both Cha'lak and Woldan left G'dan without a mentor on the Council. He found their successors less impressed in his administrative ability and wary of his debauchery.
Much of the rest, Kuutto already had witnessed or heard directly from G'dan. The great insult that came in the appointment of Ka'rel as governor. Ka'rel came from a lesser house, but more insulting was his lack of desire for the post. It infuriated him that Ka'rel couldn't see he had reached the logical peak of his career for one of his state in life. G'dan deserved to be Governor, he deserved more.
So G'dan remained efficient, if not officious, in his duties, though never quite giving the Governor as much as he could. It was a battle of wills, even though Ka'rel rarely gave G'dan's diffidence much thought. The Governor had a way of giving his officers and advisors just enough blade to slit their throats. Before any could get outright insubordinate, he would assert his authority, and if needed, invite an open challenge. G'dan was ill-equipped to survive such an encounter.
Kuutto looked back up from his padd and looked around. The bar's patrons had turned over, shifting from the crowd alien conspiracy theorists to the crowd of planetary dictators, sycophants, and that strange El Aurian was back.
He wondered about the holes still missing in the big picture that was developing. As yet, there remained no solid connection between G'dan and the orion woman. He needed more, but he had come to believe he'd have to try looking elsewhere. At least somewhere other than this strange bar.
He made his way downstairs and exited Quarks just in time for someone to run into him from behind. He smelled the air before turning around, and knew at once that a Klingon had hit him. He began to growl in turning, and saw that it was a Klingon woman in a Starfleet uniform. "Watch out!" She yelled and stared him dead in the eyes.
Something about her appearance made him stop and scrutinize her further. He didn't budge as she backed away and started toward the infirmary. She grumbled at him, "Typical warrior. When in doubt, act like a brick wall."
"Typical Klingon female. When in doubt, blame the male."
"Hah." She called as she disappeared into the infirmary.
He turned and walked off towards his quarters. He was intrigued, but he would tend to that sensation later. He had a puzzle to complete.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on May 14, 2017 21:32:30 GMT
Location: A Ferengi starship at the edge of the Lorenz Cluster
"Daimon. We're receiving a transmission on an F2F business frequency."
Drogo looked up from his stock reports, putting down the padd. "Any identification?"
"No sir, just the standard Rule 89 greeting," came the response from the Bajoran woman at ops.
"Seriously? This better not be another stripling looking for a mentor. On screen."
The viewscreen dissolved from a strategic view of a star system to the squat face and head of another Ferengi.
"Hello Drogo. Care to make a deal or two?"
"Only at the rate of five strips a minute for listening to your half-lobed rantings, Zork."
Zork immediately acted hurt, "You injure me, Drogo. And after I've delivered so many good things..."
"What do you want, Zork? I still believe my time is precious. Get to the point."
"Fine. You want to be in Daimon mode? So be it. I have a client who needs ships and weapons for about 250 soldiers."
"Ships we can discuss. Weapons, forget about it."
"What? How can I supply an insurrection without weapons?"
"Not my problem. Why don't you go out of network?"
"Because Lo Kee has been arrested."
"Lo Kee? Oh, why didn't you say so? No."
Drogo smiled as he watched Zork's frustration simmering to a boil. He was ready to close the channel himself when Zork responded in a gritted teeth whisper, "There's a lot of latinum in this for you, and maybe some right of way permissions in the Klingon Empire, if you can help."
Drogo frowned. He coveted the idea of more imperial traffic, but he knew he was still on the outs with most of the alpha-ward generals and governors.
"What kind of permissions?"
"Let's just say you wouldn't have to enter Klingon space through the Hromi Cluster anymore."
"I'm listening, Zork. Send me the ship specs, and I'll see what I've got in inventory."
"What about the weapons, Drogo?"
"I'm not selling weapons right now. I can recommend you to someone else who won't ask questions that I'll ask."
"I see. Trying to keep your best face to your Federation friends. You're not fooling anyone, you know."
"You believe what you want. Send me the specs in the next hour or try someone else. I've got an operation to run."
Zork grumbled, "Transmitting those on a subchannel. You'd better be straight with me, Drogo. You owe me."
Drogo stared straight at the screen and responded slowly and calmly. "What exactly do you think I owe you, Zork? Hmm? Something to make up for your lost bids at New Yukon and Starbase 146, after sending them substandard supplies. Perhaps a little less attention from Starfleet and the FCA about your safety record. No Zork, you bring your troubles on yourself. Don't blame me or anyone else for making opportunities from what you squander."
Zork snapped back once more, "Are you making a deal with me or not?"
"Quosyt, start work on a standard Rule 202 sales order for the ships he's requested." Drogo smiled at the screen. "Satisfied?"
"Harrumph. I'll expect to hear from you in one standard day."
Drogo nodded and continued smiling. "So it will be. Have a good one."
The screen dissolved from Zork's face into the view of an approaching ringed planet.
The Bajoran woman turned to look at Drogo, a face of eagerness. "Closer entry into the empire than Hromi? The engineers will be thrilled."
"I'm sure, Ytorym. What's the real cost though? That's the question." Drogo looked to the Klingon at the conn. "K'Hatu, do you still have Syndicate contacts at Drozana?"
"I believe so," came the low response. "I'm not sure who it would be at the present. A face -to-face contact would be required."
"Good. Go right away. I want to know what's going on in the Archanis sector."
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on May 14, 2017 22:56:12 GMT
Meanwhile at Deep Space Nine...
"Ah, Captain Mulholland. Good timing. I was about to give you a call."
"That's... ominous sounding, Admiral. Any chance I'm wrong and you're going to offer me a command instead of another year in the IG's office?"
Admiral Quinn grinned, "About the same chances that you'll accept a promotion."
"OK, so we're on the same page then. Sir, I have a suggestion..."
Quinn interrupted, "About Archanis. Yes, Admiral Ch'Terath informed me about it a few minutes ago. I agree with your assessment, though I question your motives."
Mulholland attempted to maintain his sense of professionalism. "Excuse me sir, but I feel I'm just doing my duty to be a thorough inspector for a new facility..."
Quinn interrupted again, "Four sectors away? Can the crap, David. I know you and Hsalo go back a ways, and he's rattled enough cages on this that others are weary of denying the effort. I give you credit for an original idea, though. An inspection team would be a very good way to review the situation on Archanis without raising alarms. I'm routing the USS Diomedes to DS9 for this purpose."
David tilted his head at Quinn's suggestion. "The Diomedes? A Chimaera class isn't exactly low key, Admiral, and I'm not sure that crew is likely to welcome me back openly."
"No, and no, but she's available, and her C.O. is being re-assigned. Based largely on your review, I might add."
David sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling. "This is where I remind myself to be careful what I wish for."
"Yes, yes it is. Your orders are to assume command of the Diomedes. A special delegate will join you from DS9, you will then head to K-7 for some relief crew and a rendezvous with a Klingon ship to escort you to Archanis. The Klingons may choose to meet you before you leave Deep Space Nine. If not, wait for them at K-7." Quinn then looked to the side at someone else bringing him a data slate.
"I see, Admiral. I assume details on my trip are of a need-to-know basis."
"Only the details of your special passenger." Quinn was still looking aside as he responded. "You have discretion to provide cover as you see fit."
Mulholland nodded. "And who is the passenger."
Quinn looked directly at the screen, "For now, you don't need to know that. Starfleet out."
David relaxed back into his office chair and sighed. "Yay me?"
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on May 21, 2017 2:39:36 GMT
Captain David Mulholland stood in the back of the Type 10 shuttle "Ilium," straightening his uniform for the twelfth time. The pilot called back to him, "Two minutes to landing on the Diomedes sir," which caused him to check his uniform again.
He normally wasn't very nervous about taking a new command, but the Diomedes was different. Three months prior, he had performed an inspection of the command structure and crew, while assistants inspected the ship and gear. The team came away shocked at the state of crew and equipment. Morale was low across the board: fights were routine outcomes of disagreements over trivial matters; departments had taken on an us against them attitude, which also existed between officers and non-commissioned crew. In turn, the levels of dysfunction present began to have clear effect on ship and gear maintenance. Conditions in several lab and weapons areas were on the verge of being hazardous. Jefferies tubes were infested by tribbles and voles. While main engineering was still in reasonably good shape, the effort needed to keep the ship whole meant that the machinery used to convert the destroyer into tactical mode went untended.
His report was scathing, and the outcomes were immediate. The first officer was court martialed for dereliction of duty. Two department heads retired outright. Half of the security department were reassigned to different ground assignments. He wasn't sure why Command hadn't moved out the Captain until now--such matters being above his pay grade--and he wasn't sure where she was headed either. All he was sure about was that he could be walking into a hostile environment, where some, if not, most of the crew could be holding grudges on his last visit.
As the shuttle rounded the stern of the ship, he could see the small crowd of officers and crew gathered on the shuttle deck for the transfer of command. He took a deep breath to prepare himself, and yet it felt like time sped up on him.
The shuttle landed, the door opened with a hiss, he stepped out and walked over to the current first officer. He recited the transfer of command order, then gave a brief speech that he hoped would be encouraging and bond-building, while also acknowledging that the recent past demonstrated how tenuous anyone's position may be when not working at one's best and not working together. He dismissed the crew to their duties, and remained in the shuttlebay for the next shuttle to approach.
He stood, hands clasped behind him, alone, save for the usual security contingent and the first officer, who was anxiously moving from station to station. "Commander Turro?"
The tall, dark-skinned human woman stopped in her tracks and looked over. "Yes, captain?"
He replied calmly, "Is everything in order?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why are you checking it all again?"
She paused. "I... yes sir." She decided to walk over to the center of the room, standing a step and a half behind him.
"You're entitled to stand next to me, you know."
She paused and considered checking him for eyes in back of his head. Then she simply stepped forward to stand on his right. After a moment, she piped in, "Good speech, sir."
"Hmmm. Thanks. It took me three days to write."
"Oh. Well I liked it. I think it will help."
"That was the intent, Commander. There's a lot of work to be done, and likely more changes will be on their way. Are you up to it?"
She paused as she spotted the approaching runabout. "Yes, I believe so."
"Be sure about it. This mission could be a cake run, or it could go sideways twenty different ways. Everyone needs to refind what it is that brought them to Starfleet, and hone it. You and I included."
"Good. I like a challenge."
The runabout USS Yosemite crossed the modulated shield barrier and glided to a halt on the roundhouse pad in the center of the shuttle bay. "Nice landing," both captain and commander commented together. They looked at each other and stepped towards the hatch. As they approached, they were met by a Klingon woman in a blue Starfleet uniform.
"Welcome to the USS Diomedes, Lieutenant Konstantin."
"Thank you Captain Mulholland, Commander Turro." The woman held out a padd from her left hand, which Turro promptly took and reviewed.
"These orders are authenticated, captain. Welcome aboard, lieutenant. I'll see that your gear are taken to the guest quarters on deck 6."
"Actually, I'd prefer standard officer's quarters. And if possible, please include me in any science duty rotations for the duration of the trip."
Commander Turro gave Mulholland a puzzled look. He returned a smile and a nod. Turro nodded firmly in return, "Okay then. You'll be on Deck 8, same as Sickbay, which I encourage you to visit before settling in."
"Of course, Commander. I'll need the Chief Medical Officer to know a couple details anyway. Is there anything else at the moment, Captain?"
"For now, just one question, since Command hasn't seen fit to explain it yet directly. According to your record, you are a geophysicist, not a diplomat. Why are you on this mission?"
"Because I am B'rena, daughter of Kladh. It is time for me to return home to my family and my duties, and likely to my death in one way or another."
Mulholland stood still and blinked a couple times, then looked at Turro to check her reaction. She showed slight surprise, followed by deadpan determination, as she muttered, "Sideways it is."
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Jun 1, 2017 20:15:25 GMT
David Mulholland sat impatiently in Commander Wildman's office on Deep Space K-7. "Are you sure they didn't give any more specific details, Commander?" He desperately hoped he didn't sound like he had just said, "Are we there yet?"
"I'm afraid not, Captain. Believe me, I find this as inconvenient as you do."
David grumbled and nodded, "I understand. You've got..."
The sudden chime of the comms interrupted his perfunctory apology. Wildman held up a hand and answered promptly. "Go ahead."
"The I.K.S. Bur'pong has entered standard orbit. His captain is requesting transport."
Wildman and Mulholland collectively sighed, "Finally." They looked at each other a moment, then Wildman approved the request. "Have him escorted here."
"Yes commander."
"Looks like your waiting game is done, Captain."
"Only before the next one begins, Commander."
The door opened and a large Ferasan entered the office suite. Mulholland recognized him immediately, at least by sight, from Deep Space 9, though they had no formal introduction.
"Captain Mulholland, I am Lieutenant Kuutto, security chief for Governor Ka'rel. The I.K.S. Bur'pong will escort your vessel to Archanis IV."
Mulholland nodded, "We're ready when you are."
"Then let us leave immediately." Kuutto turned on his heel and headed back to the door.
Mulholland nodded a farewell to Wildman before following Kuutto out. After a few quick steps, he caught up to the long-strided Ferasan.
"You know, I had half expected that Commander K'Vok would be assigned this duty."
"You know K'Vok?"
"Only by reputation."
"Then you should know that K'Vok is a front-line warrior, he would not be called back to provide escort for a simple inspection tour."
"So noted."
The two continued to the transporter without further conversation. Each beamed to his ship, and before long, the ships were underway.
Mulholland was met leaving the transporter room by B'rena. "Who will be escorting us Captain?"
"The I.K.S. Bur'pong, under command of Lieutenant Kuutto, a Ferasan."
"Ah, I see."
"You were hoping it would be K'Vok."
"Yes, and no. This will be difficult either way. I'm not sure how he'll take my decision to do this without informing him first."
"Well, if he's at Archanis in a few days, you'll find out."
As Mulholland entered a turbolift, she stopped outside, "Indeed we will." He nodded as the doors closed. B'rena looked momentarily at the ground, then back up as the next lift car arrived to take her back to her quarters.
As Kuutto reached the bridge of the bird of prey, he pondered why the Federation captain was expecting K'Vok. Surely a captain of Mulholland's experience would know that K'Vok would not simply run errands for any governor, even his uncle. Could he be naive enough to think that house loyalties might be invoked for a secondary diplomatic visit? Unlikely.
That suggested he was interested for other reasons. Determining which would require some thought. However, that also raised the question as to the purpose behind the Diomedes' visit to Archanis. He would think further on this over the next few days.
"Envoy Hsunu, K-7 has just confirmed the U.S.S. Diomedes has departed for Archanis."
"Thank you, Karin. It will be good to see some familiar uniforms, don't you think?"
"Yes, ma'am."
As Karin Meade exited the room, Risha took a seat at her desk, slouched into her chair, and sighed. She was still unsure as to the wisdom of this "inspection," but it did mean that her team would benefit from the experience. She also didn't mind that they would get some reinforcements and upgraded equipment. Still, she worried that the whole thing might be interpreted the wrong way.
The capital city had been relatively quiet of late. Gang conflicts were reduced and street crime was down overall. G'dan had seen to that, at the cost of restricting liberties, limiting the numbers of people that could congregate outside any building, and having guards on basically every street corner. Even the rumors of Gorn separatists had been swallowed by the absence of any violence beyond what one could normally expect among Klingons.
Basically, there was no visible reason for the Federation to be concerned for the security of the embassy. Supposedly, that made the inspection a good cover. Tension was down, so the presence of a Starfleet vessel and more officers should mean nothing more than a visit from an ally.
A comm chime interrupted her train of thought, and she sat up straight before tapping a button. "Go ahead."
"We're receiving a signal for you from the Ferengi Commerce Authority, do you want me to take a message?"
"No, I'll take it. Maybe they'll finally have taken a position on Rog, Mog and Bog that Governor Ka'rel can use to keep them honest around here."
"Yes ma'am."
An FCA logo appeared on her viewscreen for a moment, to be followed by the visage of a tallish Ferengi with an eyepatch over his left eye. "Greetings Captain Hsunu."
She smiled, "It's envoy, now, Dwonk. What can I do for you?"
He smiled in return, "Today, it's what I can do for you. What do you know about a trader named Zork?"
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Jun 3, 2017 2:52:03 GMT
"Where are we going now, S'threys?"
"To Deep Spacce Nine. I have a way to get passagjje to the Gamma Quadrant."
"Will we stop over? I want to see if he is there?"
"Who, the human colony overlord?"
"No, K'Vok."
The Gorn looked to his right and shook his head. He had no idea why she insisted that K'Vok had saved her from servitude, let alone even knew the warrior. The only thing he could figure is that she met someone of that name in her duties at the estate.
Before their escape, they were both slaves, but rarely did they encounter one another. His duties lay in the workshops and maintenance areas, while Inara was one of the many "servant" girls of the house, often asked to tend to visitors' needs. The indoor and outdoor slaves typically only saw each other at discipline sessions and the occasional festival party.
"Why long for this K'Vok? Did he follow you from Archaniss? Hass he helped you in any way since?"
"Why should he? I have attacked his people, his honor. Though they deserved every injury and death, did they not, S'threys? For what you and I endured for their pleasure and comfort," she spat into the corner of the shuttle. "They have no right to claim any honor."
"You sstill do not understand. G'dan is the one..."
"Do not speak the name of that Ha'DIibaH! He is the worst of them all. If the universe does have deities, I would pray to them all that he was killed by every explosion."
The Gorn hissed a sigh and stared out the viewport. He had been through this enough times to know what came next. He thought he'd try a new tactic. "Do not dwell on the past, Inara. In the Gamma Quadrant, we will both be free."
"You know that I'll never be free of what he did to me."
"Yess, I know. Exiting warp and returning to impulse engine. Open hail to Deep Space Nine, universal translator only."
Inara keyed in the comm signal and switched to S'threys' inputs, then stood and turned towards the rear of the ship. "On second thought, I will stay in my quarters while you tend to our business. Better to not dwell on the past."
The Gorn nodded as she walked through the portal and towards the stairs to the lower deck of the ship. He hoped that the next few hours would go smoothly. Gamma Quadrant passage was challenging enough without a woman ranting about imaginary heroes.
Three figures stood at the large monitor wall in K'Kanuc's office. For now, the ghosts were quiet, but something else stirred.
"You're sure about this intelligence, K'Kanuc."
"Yes, my lord. An old K'vort class cruiser accompanied by 4 B'rel scouts arrived at Nimbus III four days ago, then departed soon after. Several mercenaries were drunk and stupid enough to talk about their destination being Archanis IV."
Ka'rel grumbled over the report. "I see, enough to know they're coming, but not when, and definitely not where. Any indications from your contacts, Envoy?"
Risha walked over to one monitor and zoomed the image in on one of the ship. "My friends were able to give me the registry data on the K'vort. It might look familiar."
Ka'rel looked closely at the image, and then cursed. "The Nejyay! This was once my father's ship. How?"
"I didn't ask, and they didn't say, aside from noting that it had changed hands several times in the last forty years since it was last seen near Chin'toka."
"Hah, so not only do they insult us with their coming, they taunt us with a trophy that is rightfully ours." Ka'rel looked to K'Kanuc, "My thirst for battle returns, my friend. But we need our foe closer."
Risha and K'Kanuc looked at each other, and then back to the Governor. K'Kanuc spoke first, "In that case, my lord, we have a strategy you may appreciate."
"Go on."
Risha chimed in next, "Have you ever heard the Earth legend of the Trojan Horse?"
Governor Ka'rel grinned broadly.
S'threys walked in lockstep with his contact, a liberated Romulan Borg who spoke as if she were a Vulcan. They had met in Quarks, but proceeded back to the docking ring promptly afterward.
"This travel clearance will only be valid for three standard days from the moment you complete the purchase. I recommend you choose a course for Dosi space, as they will be best able to re-equip you for whatever you will be doing."
"Yess, I see. I have heard of the Dosi. Merchantss, like the Ferennngi, but with more backbone."
"And less patience, I'm told. Do not delay." She handed forward a pair of padds, one with the travel clearance and coordinates, the other for the transaction. S'threys pocketed the former and applied his thumbprint and dna on the latter. The former drone reached to retake the padd, and nodded. "Our business is now concluded, and all sales are final."
"Yess, of courrsse. Good day." She nodded once again and turned back down the corridor as he walked around the corner to the docking port where his shuttle was moored. Immediately, he noticed something was wrong. A case that he recognized as his was leaned against the bulkhead next to a large toolchest--his toolchest. He ran to the airlock and stared through the porthole, finding nothing but space beyond.
"Nooooo. IN-ARRRA." He howled and pounded the giant gearwheel door, for a moment, then stopped after butting his head on the transparent aluminum window. He unleashed some silent Gorn curses before feeling his anger sated.
He should have known she'd do this. Her obsession ran too deep for logic to intervene. Even if he had pointed out that G'dan was financing their travels, their business venture, even the bombing, she would be convinced it was this K'Vok. He shook his head again at her foolishness, and at G'dans, and at his own.
He paused and looked at his pocket. Pulling out the padd, he shook his head once again. One last waste of money and effort. He tapped on the comm button, and a monotone female voice responded. "As previously noted, all sales are final."
"Yesss, I know."
"Do you require another transaction?"
"Yesss, I require a ship with the range to Dosi space."
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Jun 6, 2017 2:40:24 GMT
The Nalori corvette Obsidian dropped out of warp at the outer edge of the Archanis system. At the helm, Inara struggled to switch the controls from warp configuration into impulse flight mode, meaning the changeover had been as bumpy inside the small ship as it would have looked outside. She quietly hoped that enough of the ship's systems were automated for landing, or at the very least keeping orbit long enough to transport to the surface.
"Computer, set a course for Archanis IV orbit."
"Unable to comply. Ship's present location and velocity do not permit an orbital entry point."
"Then pick a course for somewhere close enough to make an orbital entry point. Or something."
"Affirmative. Course is set."
"I hope he's there."
"Re-specify command execution."
"Oh, yes, commit."
"Time to next course change, eight hours."
It would continue to be a bumpy ride.
Governor Ka'rel strode into the audience chamber like a man refreshed. He looked around for G'dan, who was always present in the chamber before Ka'rel. To his surprise, he spotted G'dan standing on a balcony overlooking the palace parade grounds. He paused only a moment to wonder what his adjutant might be contemplating, then called for him brusquely.
"G'dan! Come, I have news and need your assistance."
"Yes, Governor. The honor is to serve."
"Hah. Good. I have just received news from Qo'nos, as well as our friends in the Federation Embassy. My sister is returning from her exile!"
G'dan clenched his fist and teeth tightly to avoid an outburst, though Ka'rel continued. "She will arrive here in the next forty hours. I require your expertise both in security and logistics, as I want a celebration. My house reunited!"
"Both?!" G'dan barked. "What about that buffoon Kuutto? Isn't he back from lounging at Deep Space Nine?"
"Actually, he's providing the escort in the Bur'pong. I want to have them land at the spaceport, Pad 21 now that the repairs are complete. With the criminal bombings in the past, thanks to you, we need to reinforce that Archanis is ready to reclaim its place of honor and its role as an important hub of activity in the Empire."
"Yes, of course, my lord. Your words please me, you sound like a true Klingon planetary governor."
"I intend to. Now, security needs to be firm. Deploy palace security forces fully at the spaceport and the travel route back to the palace. Reinforce the palace forces with guards from the houses. Then, of course, we will need the usual revelries, such as you have always encouraged."
G'dan replied stiffly, as only he could, "Yes, my lord."
Ka'rel turned and walked back towards his private office, leaving G'dan simmering in anger. This was becoming intolerable. Manage security and round up guests for this travesty, while the Ferasan gets the honor of escorting the prodigal home.
"My lord! There is another thing, an added honor for this event."
Ka'rel turned back to him, but did not return. "Speak your mind."
"Some ships in the Third Fleet came across an old K'vort class cruiser drifting in interstellar space."
"So what."
"The ship is the IKS Nejyay. I understand your parents served on that ship together during the Dominion War."
"Yes, that's true. Didn't survive the Breen energy weapon. Again, so what."
"I can arrange to bring it here. Possibly in time for your sister's arrival. An added honor to your house and its place on Archanis."
"He's still spaceworthy?"
"He is."
"In that case, have it brought to pad 22 in time for B'rena's arrival."
"Sir, don't you think it would make a better trophy here at the palace?"
"Trophy, if the Nejyay is spaceworthy, let all our people see it as it is restored to serve our house again. Pad 22, G'dan."
"Yes, my lord."
Ka'rel entered his office and closed the door, leaving G'dan with much on his mind, and many plans to set into motion.
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Jun 7, 2017 3:18:28 GMT
Stardate 93428.9
U.S.S. Diomedes
In polar orbit of Archanis III
"There they are, Cap. Four BOPs and their momma."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Coffey, for the lesson in starship recognition." David Mulholland smirked as he said it, and the bridge crew heard it in his voice. "Operations, any sign they've detected us or the Bur'pong?"
"Negative. If they have, they're not letting us in on the secret," called a Bolian officer. Before he could respond, Commander Turro followed his report. "Of course we're partially blind in this orbit as well. So we'll have to rely on Kuutto to clue us in."
"You don't sound particularly optomistic, Commander," called Coffey from the helm.
"Blame it on the calendar, I guess," was Leisa Turro's reply.
"What's the calendar have to do with anything?"
Mulholland looked Coffey in the eye, strongly resisting an eyeroll. "Because today's June 6th."
"And this time, we're waiting for the invasion," finished Turro.
"Oh. That calendar."
The Bolian lieutenant, Qlaife, reported out. "Two of the BOPs are breaking off into orbit. The other three ships have entered the atmosphere."
"In that case," Mulholland said, "time for us to make our appearance official. Signal our escort that we're ready to make orbit and and make our exchange. One half impulse, Mister Coffey."
---
Inara thanked her matrons--probably for the first time in earnest--for teaching her the way to and around the Governor's palace. She knew of several service corridors that would be empty at most times of the day. She selected what she thought to be a suitable transport site, engaged the computer on its final program sequence, which beamed her to a hallway near a lift into the guest quarters.
She peeked around like a cat burglar, practically on tip toes, holding an ancient hand phaser short-armed in front of her. After walking several meters in this fashion, she caught her reflection on a monitor panel. Suddenly self-aware, she cursed herself for her meekness, and tried to draw on the image she practiced at Quarks. A bold independent woman looking to make her mark, rather than a cowering slave ready to do anything to avoid another lashing. She drew herself up straighter, held the phaser more firmly, and set forward once again. A few more meters to the lift, and then she would ...
"What are you doing down here? You're ..."
---
The I.K.S. Nejyay, the "Victory Seeker," descended slowly into the atmosphere flanked on each side by a B'rel bird of prey. His engines thumped loudly against the air that the ship had not encountered in generations, while his twin escorts stayed close, ready to extend a tractor beam to keep the old bird aloft.
The pilots of the K'Vort and B'rel ships had been ordered to make a parade pass of the palace on their way to the spaceport, so that everyone could take in the sight. For several minutes, the Nejyay hovered above the palace courtyard, as if noisily contemplating setting down where he was. Instead, the ship decided to defy gravity, rising slowly several meters, and then continuing its transit to the landing pads.
Having arrived at Pad 22, the two B'rels pulled away and gained altitude, hovering anxiously, while granting their big brother the room he needed to land. For several tense minutes, most onlookers feared that gravity would win, while others expected another explosion at the ill-fated pad. Finally, the beastly bird of prey touched down with out incident, save the loud creaking of landing joints and hydraulics that hadn't changed position in 40 years.
The crowd applauded, and Ka'rel stepped forward to salute the ship. The B'rels passed in formation once more and then rose into the sky. Ka'rel stepped back to the dais where he greeted G'dan.
"That ship, it is almost like seeing home again, G'dan, almost as much as this world, your home, means to you. You honor me with this presentation."
"Qapla', my lord." G'dan held his hand communicator to his ear, and spoke a word. "The I.K.S. Bur'pong and the U.S.S. Diomedes have reached orbit. Their landing party will be arriving on the Bur'pong shortly."
"Then let us step forward to greet them together."
The two Klingons stepped towards the center of the landing pad, ultimately choosing a location that would be place the I.K.S. Nejyay at his back when the Kuutto's ship landed. Within a few moments, they looked up to find the I.K.S. Bur'pong descending with relative grace to pad 21. The landing was as silent as the previous one had been boisterous, and this generated a series of jokes suggesting the Bur'pong was too dainty to land with the force of its distant relative. Amidst the laughter, Ka'rel stepped forward towards the ship, G'dan following a step or two behind, his arm at his side. As it's ramp lowered and hatch opened, three figures could be seen waiting to exit. Ka'rel stopped just beneath the nose of the ship.
Suddenly, a loud crash from the the side drew everyone's attention. The Nejyay had extended its own ramps, sounding to most like the barge of the dead had just run aground. Everyone turned to look at the old beast, breaking into laughter again. Likewise, Ka'rel did the same, only to turn directly into G'dan.
At that same moment, three birds of prey decloaked, one aft of the the Bur'pong and two above the Nejyay. Their disruptors primed to fire within moments. Then from the direction of the palace, an explosion and the sound of disruptor fire in the streets. G'dan stepped back, then ran towards the dais, calling for security to act.
However, Ka'rel did not move. He stood facing his parents' ship and the ships above. From a distance, he looked defiant against this threat. What none could see in the forming chaos was a d'k tahg in his chest. He drew enough breath to say a single word. "yoD!"
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Flynt
Member
I'm just here for the donuts.
Posts: 222
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Post by Flynt on Jun 8, 2017 4:25:01 GMT
"yoD! Extend shields now!"
Engineer Moruk fervently tapped controls at his captain's order, barely succeeding in time as disruptor fire from two enemy ships blasted their way. "Why don't we just fire back instead this Starfleet graviton particle beam nonsense?"
From its position above and behind the Bur'pong, the I.K.S. HoS'ro' held fast with its shields fast over the grounded ship and Governor. The ground itself was less fortunate, as the deflected energy ripped through the duracrete landing pad, sending shockwaves and chunks of debris outward.
"Fire!" barked K'Vok, and weapons officer R'og complied with several heavy cannon shots that found their mark on the wing of the left hand ship. The enemy vessel, destabilized and at low altitude, flipped from the force of the blast and crashed, top down on the ground.
At this, the second bird of prey broke position and headed back to the skies.
"Beam the governor aboard and set pursuit course, now."
"Too much debris to get a target lock," came the response from Karune.
"Pursuit course ready, but they're cloaking," called Lynnush.
"He's... gone."
K'vok stood and spun around, "What?"
---
Behind the dais, an armored troop carrier used by palace security stood manned. With the appearance of three birds of prey, the gunner swivelled his armament towards the ship that he felt was the most threat--the I.K.S. HoS'ro'. As the disruptor barrage opened, he began firing as well; until realizing that the HoS'ro' was not firing. Swiveling again, he began firing at the next closest ship.
G'dan and several guests came running into the vehicle for protection. "We must return to the palace, now!" he shouted to the driver. The driver started to point to the firefight ahead and was quickly silenced. "If we do not restore control soon, there will be more unrest. The palace. Move!" The gunner continued firing as the vehicle moved away, at least until the surviving enemy ship flew off.
Along the route back security troops lining the streets fired at anything that moved and looked armed. Periodically, an alien figure dressed in Klingon urban camouflage popped out from an alley to return fire, only to be cut down efficiently. Though only about 4 kellicams separated the spaceport from the palace, the old city streets were narrow and not direct. The armored vehicle rolled ploddingly towards its destination. G'dan contacted his second in command, J'Kek, for an update.
"Squad 12 reported enemy forces infiltrating the palace. The palace comm center doesn't respond, sir." J'Kek had been detailed to the security post at the spaceport command center, basically having the best view of the area.
"What about the Governor and the Bur'pong?" asked G'dan.
"Pad 21 is destroyed. The Bur'pong is covered in debris, and there's no sign of Governor Ka'rel."
"Gather all forces for a counter-attack on the enemy," G'dan commanded. He smiled at the scent of victory as he rode on towards the palace.
---
Risha Hsunu raced with Inara back from the guest wing, as the sounds of disruptor and phaser fire, along with the clash of bat'leths and mek'leths, echoed through the palace. "Get down! she shouted and shoved Inara around a corner, before rolling and firing back at a pursuer. She looked at the downed enemy, a Nausicaan by the look of him, and she cocked her neck. pleased with her shot. Tapping her comm badge, she called out, "K'Kanuc, status report. Are we there yet?"
"Nearly, we have blocked off all routes to the main hall except through the courtyard. They are coming through now."
"Not all, I've still got some rats who know the maze sniffing my tail."
"Sending squad green 3 to you now."
"Green's nice," said a shell-shocked Inara from the floor.
"Tell them to move, and watch out that we don't run them over on the way."
---
J'Kek and his squad lifted off in a pair of toDuj fighters from the top of the command center. However, unsatisfied with the inability to detect Ka'rel, he flew first towards pad 21 to investigate the debris. As they approached, they spotted several figures emerging from the grounded Bur'pong. Climbing from the emergency hatch was a tall burly felinoid, carrying a large body over his shoulder. He made a leap from the vessel to the ground, laying his charge down for treatment.
J'Kek brought the fighter to a near halt and lowered it to the ground. The other fighter, turned and landed less nimbly but also without snapping multiple g's to do so. The crews of both fighters ran forward, J'Kek in the lead. "Lieutenant Kuutto! The Governor?"
"Needs our help, J'Kek. But first, you need to know, you have been deceived."
---
"Shields holding steady at 80 percent." Qlaife's report was hesitant, meaning either the shield strength was actually spiking at 80, or he was just nervous about it falling rapidly.
"Put a little more umph into that report, Mister Qlaife. Snap calls." Mulholland felt strangely in the zone, using the battle as a teaching exercise.
From the helm, Coffey grumbled, "Who'd have thought both would come after us at once?" Hearing the remark, Commander Turro raised her hand while standing at a secondary tactical station.
"Hands on the wheels folks. Q and A is later. Turro, get me a firing solution on... hello."
Qlaife snapped off a more confident damage report, "Direct hit on starboard pylon. Damage teams responding. Shields to 75%."
Turro looked over at Mulholland with a puzzled look. He replied with a smile, "I've got a case of Andorian snow ale for the person who can tell me what variant bird of prey we've got. Here's a hint, they sell cheap for a reason."
Coffey laughed, "No way they're flying D-12s."
"Bingo. Commander Turro..."
"Way ahead of you, Cap. Configuring the tachyon inversion to ionize their plasma coils."
"Mister Qlaife, full torpedo spread, fore and aft. Fire when they blink."
"Aye sir."
"Now, Commander."
The Diomedes lanced out at her targets, finding home on one bird of prey, then the next. In moments, the two ships began their cloaking sequence. Seeing the change, Qlaife launched the torpedo salvos. They hit their marks successfully, albeit in overkill fashion--the first torpedos would have completed their task. Mulholland made a mental note to steer the Bolian to a more measured use of weapons. He also caught a couple crew members fist pumping.
"Nicely done, but business before pleasure folks. Still one more bird out there plus the ground action." He hoped his tone was more encouraging than chiding, but he didn't actually mind if it wasn't. Checking his exec, she smiled and nodded. He nodded back twice, once forward, once to the side.
Turro took a hint in the look, "Mister Coffey, set course 72 mark 4, stationary orbit over the governor's palace. Mister Qlaife, hail our ground forces. Let's see what they need. Everyone stay alert."
---
G'dan's vehicle rolled up to the entrance of the palace, where he was met by 50 warriors, half of which were palace security, the other half were from the area and felt compelled to help. If the invading force were staking out the entrance, they left no sign. G'dan tapped his communicator, "J'Kek, report."
"We have troops and vehicles at the armory and loading dock entrances. The enemy will have no way out."
"Good. Proceed at once." G'dan then stepped forward to spur on the group before him.
"Warriors of the Empire. We charge inside to retake what treachery and dishonor has tried to take from us." They shouted calls of victory and honor and lined up behind two of the security squad leaders. G'dan called a charge and they ran forward through the grand entrance door way, where they found nothing. No bodies, no weapons, no calls of heroism or cries of pain. The sheer silence nearly stopped the volunteers in their tracks.
"Be on guard," G'dan encouraged. "They may be entrenched and waiting to ambush us." He had each squad leader take a group of 12 down the perimeter hallways. "The rest of us move to the command center. This way."
G'dan and his group moved in the direction of a central staircase which led to the main chamber, but only through a security checkpoint. He directed the remaining squad leader to take six warriors to secure the checkpoint. "The rest of us will go through the courtyard. There is a stairway that there that leads directly to the command center." The warriors with him nodded their commitment, and they moved ahead, armed and ready.
Within minutes, they reached the courtyard doors. G'dan nodded, and they flung open the doors, ignoring the noon sunlight in their faces and leaping through ready to fight.
"nuqneH, G'dan? Are you going somewhere?" Called a heavy voice from above.
Slowly, G'dan's eyes cleared enough to see about one hundred mercenaries kneeling on the ground of the courtyard, their hands on their heads. Standing on the roof around the courtyard, he found a hundred or so Starfleet personnel, along with J'Kek and half of the palace security force. Their weapons were fully trained on the prisoners and now on G'dan and his team.
While the force accompanying him dropped their weapons and backed away, G'dan strode forward into the light, trying to see whose voice called him. "My lord, Ka'rel, is that you?"
"You lost something earlier, G'dan." The statement was followed by the rattling of something thrown from above. G'dan looked down and found his bloodied d'k tahg. He then looked up to the balcony where he saw K'Vok, standing in full menace with Kuutto bracing Ka'rel to his feet. Behind K'Vok stood B'rena, Inara, and Risha.
"Ah, yes. I did lose that. I must thank you for returning it," he grinned maniacally, "and for giving me another chance to end your cursed house. But first, destroy the evidence." He raised his arm, aimed, and fired his disruptor.
A combined experience of over a hundred years on the balcony led each to act on the raising of G'dan's weapon. Kuutto to shield Ka'rel. K'Vok drew his weapon and moved to shield B'rena. Risha moving Inara to cover, and B'rena covering them both.
B'rena was the first to succeed in providing cover, taking the shot meant for Inara in the abdomen.
K'Vok wheeled around and fired at G'dan, hitting him in the firing shoulder. His weapon lost, he turned to run, but K'Vok leapt from the balcony and landed atop G'dan. K'Vok got to his feet and rolled the prone G'dan over. K'Vok unsheathed his own d'k tahg.
"You do not deserve to die well, coward. But my vengeance calls for your blood!" Driving from fully upright down to his knee, K'Vok plunged the blade into his enemy's chest. He stayed in this position for several moments before drawing back his blade and holding it out, in challenge against any other conspirators.
A cough from the balcony drew his and others' attention. Ka'rel brought himself upright. "Let no one... sit Ak'voh... for G'dan. His greed..." Ka'rel lingered over the word as if it tortured him to say. "His lust for power... Only remember as a warning. You are better. This world... is better... than he deserved."
Ka'rel fell to one knee, then collapsed to his back.
Kuutto and Risha both ran to catch him, as Starfleet medics ran from across the building to check both the governor and his sister. He looked up at them both, and smiled, "I really was... starting to enjoy... this job."
K'Vok reached the balcony in time to see the last breath leave Ka'rel's body. He looked over and saw B'rena, burned and wounded in the treatment of a medic. She nodded silently.
Residents of the capital swear that the Heghtay was heard as far as 10 kellicams away from the palace. The howl was punctuated by one last explosion: that of a Nalori corvette crashing into the former home of House Cha'lak.
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