kiso
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One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Oct 9, 2015 18:27:35 GMT
"It's been a month, now..." a voice cracked the silence. A voice heavy with fatigue, duty, sacrifice, and more. "A month since war's end, and still I can't fight the feeling this was merely a prelude to something else..." the room was dark, lit only by the lights of a display monitor and a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. It was also badly damaged. Plating and bulkheads lay where they fell, the intact wall decorated by charred, exhausted weapons of various sort, from rifles and pistols down to a simple knife, it's handle of bone and caked in blood. This room had been chosen to be preserved as it was when the call came in. A testament, maybe? Or a monument? A reminder of all the pain that was suffered over the last months. No, not to him, personally. In fact, he had a strong sense of relief. A small, selfish relief that he had protected what he wanted to keep safe.
"The war is over and great minds turn back to exploration...To rebuilding. Strengthening the walls. But walls don't keep everything out. Sooner or later, cracks form. There are other entrances into our homes and gardens other than the gates and doors we put in walls and fences. This last war proved that. They appeared so suddenly...Flood gates opened over Sol, and the skies were alight with furious, desperate fire. How long was the battle? I don't even remember. Sure, I could look through the records and get the time down to the millisecond, but I won't. Dodging the Permian Bullet was enough without knowing how close it came." He sighed, rising from the tattared desk, looking through what was left of the window, through the faint, buzzing hum of forcefield that separated him from vacuum. Down at the fragile blue ball beneath. It was home. Not his home, though. His was among the stars he fought. Where he lived, breathed, fought and died. Not that dying frightened him, anymore. Staring death in the face for most of your adult life gives a disenchanted view of such things.
"We called them demons...Fitting, actually. Demons of Air and Darkness who could step into and out of reality on a whim. They were kings, once. Kings with attendants and servants. But fear lead to war, and war changes even the most noble hero into a blood-thirsty monster. I would argue that I'm no different, now. By one party, I'm seen as a hero, someone to be admired and emulated. By many more, a murderer, a warmonger and a butcher. But even they will call murderers heros when faced with annihilation." He breathes a heavy sigh, one accompanied by the creaking of metal and leathers.
"But I find myself asking; what? Were these Demons the pinnacle? The endgame? The ultimate evil vanquished by the forces of good? Or, an even worse prospect, were they just a beginning? We have charted less than a third of our Galaxy, barely a fraction of a per cent of a growing universe...Are we really ready to step back into it? To be explorers and pioneers? I don't think so. On the precipice of reality, we encountered creatures almost immune to our science and understanding. They could have caused a worse catastrophe than the demons if left unchecked..." He turns from the window, carefully disassembling the plate and glass encumbering him.
"But, they didn't. I suppose I should be thankful, but-" the air is cut by a high-pitched whine. A chime. "Yes?"
"You requested to be notified when the transport was here, Sir?"
"Thank you, Sh'eti." as the first figure unpins the badges from his chest. "I'll be on my way, then."
"If it's not too rude to ask, Captain, where are you going?"
"To breathe life back into these old bones. And prepare for the long night." the figure smiled as he stepped through the door.
"Then be well, Captain Hsalo."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Oct 27, 2015 17:29:06 GMT
I.K.S. Reclaw - 40 days after Wars End.
The Captain of the massive Bortasqu' sat in her throne, flanked by a guard and her loyal, four legged companion. "So, you see the predicament we are in, don't you?" she said to her first officer after explaining the situation to her senior staff.
"Indeed, My Lady." replied Natllu, an Orion woman, much like her captain. And like her captain, garbed in the prestigious armor of the Klingon Honor Guard, as was most of the senior bridge crew. "And that without proof, and with the numerous attempts on your life, approaching the homeworld to confront this conspiracy would be foolish, despite personal desires."
"The latest attempt, the sabotage of the bIrna' tIqDaj shows they are getting more cunning in there attempts." hissed Raakas, the colossal Gorn that served as the Reclaw's security chief. "And despite the claims of that...Romulan, the crew of the Vorn haven't found any explicit evidence of Rhetok, or the House of Krann in these attempts." the reptilian crewmember waving at the barely noticable Qib out the window. Despite essentially living in exile of her House's assets, the captain still managed to build herself a small taskforce of those still loyal to her, and ships obtained from the allied House Terrath. The small armada consisted of the hulking Reclaw, the almost imperceptable Vorn, the Negh'Tev class bIrna' tIqDaj and the new and nimble Darang, a Qa'Tel class raptor.
"That's because he plans several moves ahead, and for almost any eventuality, My Lady." hissed the figure on the view screen, a violet furred Ferasan with blue facial markings, one of the Captain's many new allies along with her ship.
"Explian." ordered the Captain.
"His pride is in his ability to do such. If he wasn't pushed into the Honor Guard, Rhetok could well have been a successful General, well on his way to Dahar Master. But his pride is also where we can find weakness..." the Ferasan grinned. This particular Felinoid of the Empire had spent much of her pre-Iconian War career in the 8472 Counter Command, and had many intelligence gathering techniques at her disposal, from all powers in the alliance. "I suggest a...controversial option." the Captain simply turned in her throne to regard the screen properly, giving it her full attention, and a sign for the speaker to go on. "A proxy battle, as such. Why endanger your own limited power when there are other players in both the Federation and Republic also investigating this? I propose dispatching the Vorn to find K'Vok and gather intelligence, and use both to introduce a little chaos into Rhetok's plans."
Tira Vero, captain of the warship Reclaw, weighed this thoughtfully. Assessing her own options and feelings in the grand scheme she's unwittingly been brought into. "...I approve." she said, standing. "Contact the Romulan Decius, see if you can find K'Vok through him, and whatever information he has gathered to date. Even if you do not see any value in it, take it. But our priority is finding K'Vok, before the Empire does. Do this for me, Lieutenant Hsalo, and what's left of your clan will be welcome among my House. They will have a home."
The figure on screen bowed her head. "Your benevolence is matched only by your prowess, My Lady. Your will be done." and the screen cut off, followed a few minutes later by the Vorn warping away.
"...Was that wise, My Lady?" Tira snapped her head back to look at the speaker, Weapons Officer Dizlo, another Orion that dotted her command crew. "I still say the Ferasan is a rouge element. One that could turn on us. On you. Especially considering how she entered your employ."
"She managed to sneak past all of you and attack me within the corridors of this very ship." the rest of the bridge crew shift uncomfortably. With any other commander, there was a very high chance one of there corpses would've adorned the front of the ship after such an incident. "That speaks of her skills at such a task. And, it keeps her out of the way in case she does decide to turn on us. And we could use her presence to draw in more players from the Federation."
"My Lady?"
"She is of relation to that insufferable Caitian Captain Karag was acquainted to. And Caitian's have an equally strong sense of family loyalty to Ferasans. So keeping her around will serve to open up possibilities, rather than close them."
"I see..." Dizlo muttered, looking at her console. Then let out a light chuckle. "I dare say Rhetok may just well have underestimated your mental strength, alongside your physical, My Lady."
"And so long as he believes that, we are at an advantage." she turns to the rest of her crew. "If I was as mindless or impulsive as he believed, this ship would have been hovering over the fortress on Qo'noS by now. But, we shall stay the course. Raakas, contact your ally in House Pegh. Nersi, I want the bIrna' tIqDaj operational by weeks end. Everyone else, continue your work. If and when we have to act, we will be ready. For the Empire!" as she raised her fist into the air.
"For Lady Vero!" called the bridge crew before the went about there delegated tasks, Tira sinking back into her throne.
"Time to see what this new dawn will bring..."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Nov 6, 2015 0:27:49 GMT
I.K.S. Vorn, 47 days post war.
"Are you sure about this?" asked the Orion on the other side of the view screen, face marked with an icey curiousity, for lack of a better time.
"Ninety per-cent, My Lady." Replied Lieutenant K'Imoshi Hsalo, otherwise referred to as Shishi. "And that is based on that visual record. If I'd known him before, or had better opportunity to study him, I could give a more positive confirmation. The record did come from the Romulan you asked me to find. We're on our way to Drozana, now. With luck, there may still be some evidence overlooked by Starfleet."
"I wouldn't be surprised." commented Lady Tira Vero of House Karag. "For all there marvels, there are times when Starfleet couldn't find the boots on there feet. Continue with your hunt. And remember, I want K'Vok, and his crew unharmed."
"By your command, My Lady." the Ferasan bowed her head as the screen returned to the starfield view. "You heard our Lady."
"And why should we listen to you?" growled Supuw, the Nausicann security officer of the Qib class Vorn.
"Because if you don't," Shishi began, stalking over to him, "Lady Vero will likely decorated the hull of this ship with our entrails. Our Lady trusted us with finding what we can about Rhetok, and anything we can use against him. And if you question me like this again," she hisses, tapping at one of the Nausicann's facial tusks. "I'll mail your head back to Lady Vero, and your body to your next of kin. Clear?!" as she snaps the tusk with her bare hand, causing the Nausicann to double back. Not in pain, they don't feel such. But with a fleeting sense of fright that the nimble felinoid could muster such strength. Rather than risk his mouth getting him into trouble, again, he simply bowed his head. "Good."
"Coming up on Drozana station!" called Araa'kshash, the Gorn helm officer.
"Activate cloak and get us in range for transport." she then turned to look at the bridge crew. "Lork, Shumusllais, you're with me and Arra'kshash. We're beaming over and turning that cargo hold inside out, along with the old lounge." A redheaded Orion female and a gruff Klingon male nodded, and took leave of the bridge. Shishi then turned to one of the other Gorn on the bridge. "Thraak, the ship is yours. Maintain cloak and orbit, and await our signal for beam up." the Gorn grunted an affirmative as Shishi and Araa'kshash left the bridge, heading for the transporter room.
"What are your thoughts on this, Commander?" the Gorn rumbled as the turbolift slid along the neck of the ship into the main body.
"That someone stabbed Karag in the back in the Delta Quadrent and is now making a break for taking over his House. For that, Lady Vero would have to be killed. An unlikely circumstance." The Gorn grunted a chuckle. "But with the House under there control, it'd be a matter of time for them to build up forces, support...Perhaps even challange J'mpok, himself. And Rhetok doesn't strike me as one to sit on the throne...He must have a figurehead...A puppet..."
"You thinkin' that info we pulled from the Warbird's right? That someone may have been altered to look like Karag?" the Gorn tilted his head. "If we could prove that, and link it to Rhetok, it'd set his plan's up the exhaust."
"That, my friend, as what we're trying to do." Shishi grinned as the lift opened a few feet from the transporter room and both marched in. "Standard procedure, team. As soon as we're in, blind surveillance and pull all data we can. A smash and grab job."
"Easy enough." commented Shumusllais as she set about picking up some handheld jammers. "It'd be the first part that is." as she joined her companions on the transporter pad.
"Energize." and the dull red haze of transport set in. Only for a split second as matter was converted to energy, and converted back in a dark, dingy cargo hold, bulkheads pock marked with burns. The Orion tapped on her wrist computer and nodded to the team.
"Three hours. Investigate everything." Shishi ordered as her team spread out, covering every nook and cranny they could find. "Interesting..." she mused. "If Rhetok could think this far ahead, would he have prepared for one of his sources being killed or apprehended?" as she looked around, scenting the air. "Maybe he got everything he needed out of him...But maybe...Just maybe..." and she spun around, dropping to the floor whilst pulling a disruptor pistol from her belt, and squeezing the trigger. The report was answered by a quiet, yet high pitched shriek emanated from one of the many arachnids that crawled the stations unused levels. "Guess not. Good."
"Commander, you alright?" came a voice from across the room.
"Fine, just a spider. Let's pick up the pace. What's the findings?"
"Nothing we don't already know, Commander." Lork reported as he returned to the group. "Weapons discharges, Klingon, Romulan and Orion, along with a few Starfleet signatures. And respective transporter signals."
"Hmmm...Computer have anything?"
"A warbird that decloaked just before Paraad's apprehension by Starfleet. And the turbolift access was overridden by a Republic programme to stop here, rather than Paraad's docking berth." reported Shumusllais. "Again, nothing new."
"Anything else on the warbird?"
"Only that they resumed cloak after Paraad was killed and beaming up the Romulans and Klingons that confronted the Starfleet Captain."
"Thoughts, Commander?" Araa'kshash asked, eyeing the dead spider like it was some kind of delicacy. "So far, we aren't getting any new leads."
"No...But we are confirming what the Romulan gave us, which is a start. And I'm tempted to test his theory."
"Which one?"
"That the beset place for K'Vok to hide right now, would be under his pursuers noses. We're returning to the ship." as she tapped her own wrist computer, the team being whisked away from Drozana as if they'd never visited. They made there way to the bridge, all wondering what Shishi meant.
On the bridge, Thraak noticed the doors sliding open. "Commander on deck!"
"Set course for Qo'noS. The same path used during the Undine attack."
"Behind Praxis?"
"Exactly. With the debris from both it, and the battles with Herald ships, it's the most secure place in the system. A nice hiding spot for, say...Someone that doesn't want to be found by the Empire?"
"You think K'Vok is there?"
"That, or Rura Penthe. Engage."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Nov 10, 2015 14:08:11 GMT
U.S.S. Ariane, Mariah Sector, fifty-five days post Iconian War.
"Are you sure about this, Captain?" asked one felinoid to another, her tail swaying with a sense of unease. "We need every ship ready in case the situation in the Badlands spirals out of control." While it was true that the incursion in the Badlands was escalating, and the Captain had thought to help hold the line, why he was here and on this ship was by way of personal request.
"Fletcher and the Naganita will be fine for a few days, Sh'eti." the Captain pointed out, tugging at the collar of his asymmetrical long coat. While he liked the style, he hated the tightness of it. "And both the Daikaiju and the Tacit are with them. Don't worry so much." as he mused on why exactly he was here, himself.
It was last night in Quark's. He'd just ordered his patented Tricobalt Device (patent pending) when he was approached by a Gorn, a situation which made him uncomfortable based on previous interactions with the species.
"You." the Gorn rumbled, not so subtly (or gently) poking him in the shoulder, to which he turned to face his impromptu conversation partner. Well, as well as he can face a ten foot plus reptile in ceremonial armor of the Honor Guard.
"Yes, me. Can I help you?" he asked. "Doubt I can, though. I'm off duty."
"My Lady asks of your services." a sentence that filled the Caitian with apprehension as the colossal figure handed him a PADD, "You are free to decline, but it may be in your interests to accept." the Gorn rumbled as the Feline bar goer looked to the PADD, then back up, only to find the Gorn gone as abruptly and as quietly as he'd appeared.
"...Okay?" he looked around the bar, noting all the other night-owls enjoying there drinks and conversation, apparently having paid him no mind. Hadron across the bar top from him simply shrugged, muttering about the figure being less of a headache than an earlier reptilian attendee. Kiso looked to the PADD, reading the message contained thereon. A list of instructions should he choose to follow them, simple as that. "...Well, can't hurt to look, right?" he asked he frowning bartender. "Yeah, yeah, pay my tab first, I get it you tight fisted..." as he grumbled into his drink, feeling infinitely more awake after finishing it as he left the bar, leaving a a few slips of Latinum in payment.
He made his way to the docking ring before deviating from his course, off into a small cargo compartment. "Alright, let's see...Should be...Ah, here we go." inside an access hatch he found another PADD, and what appeared to be a rudimentary handle to either a weapon, or vehicle. He wasn't sure which. "Oh hey, Birthday's come early, this year." he chuckled, taking a moment to make sure he was alone before taking both. "Kiso Hsalo, eyes only, blah blah..." as he looked over it. "Uh huh...Right then." as he hit one of the buttons on the PADD, wiping the message and tossing it into the nearest waste disposal. "Was kinda hoping something exciting would happen around here..."
"Captain?" S'eia called him back to the now. "New contact on sensors...Looks like...A HoH'SuS Bird-of-Prey just warped into the system...Seems to be on course for Hop...Ho...This place." as Kiso walked over to look at the readout.
"Hop lojmIt Hovtay', Lieutenant. Far Gate System. It's the base of operations for the Empire's 3rd Fleet." the lieutenant looked confused at her captain for a moment while the rest of the crew smirked and even snickered a little. "I've been around Klingon's enough. Not enough to actually hold a conversation, but enough to know common words." then he looked at the bracer that adorned his left wrist. "...Right on time, too."
"Orders, Sir?"
"Maintain cloak and position. But lock on to every life sign on that bird." the Commander and Science officer S'eia looked confused before answering in the affirmative. There was a reason Kiso chose this ship for this mission. Phantom class escorts where designed to not be seen, and one had luckily been assigned to the 8492nd with the recall of forces at the outbreak of the Iconian War. So far, it hadn't been ordered back into it's original mission profile.
The Bird-of-Prey held position for a few minutes before starting to move off. Even on the view screen, Kiso could spot the markings of the House of Karag and Klingon 3rd Fleet. And it wasn't long until a party-crasher appeared in this area of contested space. "Captain, tachyon build-up. Raptor decloaking." Kiso held a hand palm down about waist height, signalling his crew to hold any actions. "They're firing on the Bird-of-Prey. They're returning fire." The Ariane silently watched as the Raptor and Bird-of-Prey clashed in space, disruptor energy pulsing between both as the HoH'Sus demonstrated a new weapon, utilizing a subspace jump behind the offending ship, tearing into it with a 'lighter' version of the devastating autocannon of the Bortasqu' ships. But, in the end, it was still a Bird-of-Prey, and as it's shields failed and wings buckled under cannon barrages, Kiso walked over to the science console and tapped a button. Moments later, the HoH'SuS was nothing more than debris. "They're gone, Sir. No survivors."
"Passive scan on the Raptor." as he walked back to his chair, turning to face the screen.
"Mat'Ha class, registry unknown, no transponder signal...Checking markings...No fleet affiliation, but...Wait, this can't be right..." S'eia explained as the Raptor hovered in view for a few minutes, possibly scanning the wreckage for survivors.
"Explain, Science."
"They also have markings of House Karag...I knew that House was troubled, but that they'd attack there own ships like this? It's almost unheard of."
"I agree, Captain. Whatever Captain McBride was investigating, it seems to have escalated. If there is open conflict like this within a single House, well...What could that mean for the political state of the Empire?" Kul weighed in, watching as the Raptor warped away from the system, back the way the Bird-of-Prey came.
"Right now, very little. But I will give a new standing order to everyone on this ship." as he stood, looking around the questioning looks of his senior bridge crew. "What you are about to see, you speak of to no one." and he straightened his uniform, mentally counted to three, and turned to the turbolift doors.
The door slid open, revealing Vell'mys, the Aenar CMO, and self-appointed bodyguard to Captain Hsalo, and five figures clad in black Honor Guard armor. Three with red trimmings, all wearing helmets and female, bar the recognizable Gorn in there midst. A fourth, an Orion with purple hair, with blue trim, running a tricorder over the last individual who was nursing her elbow, clad in gold trimmed Quv style armor of Elite Honor Guardians.
"Lady Vero. Welcome aboard."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Nov 11, 2015 17:27:40 GMT
I.K.S. Vorn, Fifty Six days after the Iconian War.
"All programs and systems ready, Commander." reported Lork from the science console of the bridge. "The explosions will alter the course of some debris to present a danger to the orbital shipyard. Not enough to destroy it, but enough to through the Defence Network into momentary chaos."
"Good." Replied Lieutenant Commander K'Imoshi Hsalo. She was recently back from a chance meeting with K'Vok, gathering what intel he had gathered, including the suspected location of the mysterious tengchaH' Krann. Now, she had the Vorn hacking into some of the Herald ships around Praxis. Recent computing technologies aloud for easier access into Iconian systems. Not enough for complete subjugation, but for an uncrewed ship, key systems could be affected severely. "We'll use the chaos to get information from the Intel Net on any ship heading for Adigeon Prime during Karag's supposed death, and K'Vok will launch from the surface. Once he clears Praxis and goes to warp, we'll depart for Minos Korva."
"Minos Korva? What's there?"
"A Lady in waiting." replied the felinoid. "On my mark."
"Aye."
Surrounding both Praxis and Qo'noS itself were a multitude of Herald, Starfleet, Republic and Imperial vessels from the repeated raids on the homeworld by the demons. Some of the ships that fell into orbit alongside Praxis momentarily flaired to life, the speakers on the bridge of the Qib battlecruiser erupting to life as the Orbital Defence Network scrambled ships to investigate. One of the ships, a Starlfeet Prometheus class impacted debris, it's nacelles crumpling as all three warpcores lost containment, the resulting uncontained reaction launching the debris deeper into the field.
"Move those ships! They could detonate what's left of Praxis and endanger the Homeworld!" the traffic controller screamed at every ship in system.
"That's our queue. Detonate." and without warning, a chain reaction filtered through the ships. Warp core breaches rocketing lunar debris around like balls in a gravity chamber. If one looked carefully enough, a pattern was in the explosions. Romulan warbird implosions, in a seemingly random and erratic, yet cleverly calculated manner, was herding rocks and fragments towards the orbital stations and lightly populated areas of Qo'noS.
"All ships! Do what you must to defend the homeworld! The Demon's treacherous technology has succumbed to damage and threatens Qo'noS! Even in death they are dangerous!"
"Negh'Ro, intercepting lunar debris!"
"HohraN here. We're breaking up fragments entering atmosphere."
"Quick! Pull the records from intel and watch for the HoS'ro."
"Downloading." Araa'kshash noted, while keeping the ship stable with all the explosions so close to there hideing spot.
"This little disaster will be an easy clean-up. Not enough to draw attention from the other powers, except to come haul off there garbage." smirked K'Imoshi. "Has the HoS'Ro launched, yet?"
"Uncomfirmed. But we have our data."
"...We can't afford to wait. Plot course for Minos Korva, and egress from the system."
"Aye!" and the Vorn silently slipped away from Praxis towards the systems outer limits. Once past the grids detection, it jumped to warp.
"Good luck, Commander K'Vok."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Nov 16, 2015 16:12:28 GMT
U.S.S. Ariane, Minos Korva; Sixty-one days post-war.
"Away with you, you needless butcher of honor!" roared a voice from sickbay on the small ship. A situation that had become all too familiar since picking up the crew of the recently destroyed Bird-of-Prey, though despite both crews butting heads on multiple topics, it had yet to escalate to more than idle threats and a few fist-fights in the training room. Nothing Vell'mys, the Aenar Medical Officer couldn't handle, though.
"Hey, for all intents and purposes, you already died protecting your Captain from a cowardly attack. Ain't nothing I can do to your honor." she pointed out, trying to scan one of the Klingon warriors, to little avail. "Besides, if I don't repair that leg, you're not gonna go running into any battles, are you?"
"Bah! naDevvo' yIghoS, Ha'DIbaH!"
"Okay, I don't know what you said, but it didn't sound nice...So..."
"Mevyap!" barked a voice from the doorway as a tall, emerald skinned woman entered sickbay, her arm held in a sling, flanked by another green woman with violet hair, and both the Klingon and Aenar almost jumped at the sudden appearance, turning to look at the newcomer. "Cease your incessant bickering, bekk, or I shall cease it for you. We are guests aboard this ship. Act accordingly!" the Klingon seemed to shrink in either fear or respect. Vell'mys had to admit that despite any detectable use of pheromones, the Orion still managed to keep a tight leash on those under her. She gave a nod of thanks to the Orion and started repairing the Klingon's injured leg. With a sigh, she turned back to the door, to find her Starfleet counterpart leaning against the frame.
"See, this is why I let you deal with your crew. Aside from your senior officers and guard, none of them listen to us."
"Nuq'neh." the Orion, one Captain Tira Vero, said to the Caitian before her, who let an ever so slight frown play on his lips for a moment.
"Well, we're sitting over Minos Korva, like you asked." he answered the literal translation of what was said as the three started walking down the corridor. "Though we may have a problem with the secrecy of this little trip..." as the walk paused to let two hulking Gorn and a human lumber pass, the human inspecting a weapon that, to the untrained eye, may appear to be some kind of rail gun, and all three deep in conversation.
"Explain." Tira replied as the walk continued, her Orion escort scrutinizing the much brighter lit Starfleet interior compared to that of Klingon vessels.
"A small True Way outpost on the surface. And if they have any kind of old Obsidian Order tech, they could pick us up at any moment."
"Why not simply destroy it?" Tira asked, as if this was the most obvious solution.
"And light us up for half the sector? Look, I know you might still be reeling from your 'death', but I ain't gonna invite that on two crews if it can be avoided. What was it Kahless said? The storm doesn't respect the fool?" that last quip got icey glares from both Orions as he uttered, and possibly butchered, one of the sacred sayings. "...Okay, no words from the late Emperor, got it...Anyway, my solution was beam a team down and knock out the base. Obviously, in the interest of cooperation, I do extend that invite to your crew, too, if they want to stretch there legs."
"How charitable...How many are you sending."
"Five. I've got three picked out."
"Nurema, tell Raakas and Natllu to report to the armory. There's work to be done."
"HIja'!" the purple haired woman responded and head down another corridor at the intersection.
"Just so you know, one of my three is me. After all, I'd never give an order I wasn't willing to follow."
"...Surprisingly admirable, Captain. If only more of you Starfleet types were like you."
"Haha, yeah...Well, enjoy your stay, Captain." and Kiso headed down towards the armory himself, thinking to himself. A few years ago, he wouldn't have thought of working with the Klingon's in any capacity, much less one that was both unsanctioned and technically illegal. If command knew what he was doing right now, his career would really be over. At best, after this, 'ends justify the means' would be his best defence. He entered the armory to find his team already there.
"Captain on deck." called the Armory officer.
"At ease. We're gonna have a pair of tag-a-longs for this ride, so I don't want to see any bravado or showing off. That'll get you killed." he explained as he head to a locker, pulling out and readying a suit of MACO combat armor.
"What if they get in our way, Sir?"
"If they do that, Master Chief, you stop shooting." as Kiso pulled the armor on, and the doors slid open. In shuffled the hulking Gorn who met Kiso in Quark's those few days ago, crouching under the doorway who let out a slight snarl.
"Stop shooting who, Captain?" he rumbled as he was followed by the much smaller, but equally armored Orion woman.
"Just letting my guys know the terms of engagement. And before you start, I ain't interested in doing this clean, just quick enough to make sure they don't get a shout out to anyone else. Now, this is a purely military stronghold, so no risk of collateral damage."
"Good." rumbled Raakas as Kiso brought up a map.
"We're dropping in here." the feline pointed to a cargo hold. "Then we need to take out these rooms, and the main satellite control. How we do it, I don't care, just so long as it's done." the Gorn let out an audible grin, which sounded like a deeper clicking of a Geiger Counter. "Then we're back up here to wait for the Vorn. Questions?"
"Yeah." said the other Starfleet member of the crew, a young looking enlisted woman with red hair. "What's our load outs?"
"Demolition. So arm up!" as all five away team members finished suiting up. Kiso had just put his helmet on when he looked up to see a long, black rifle being passed to him by the Orion Natllu. "What..."
"For this mission, you'll love it." she said with a slight mirth to her tone. Kiso shrugged and lead the team down two doors to the transporter room.
"Coordinates set, sir. Scans show no one should be there."
"Roger. Energize." as a soft blue hum and haze washed over the team, the view of the transporter room fading and slowly replaced with a dimly lit room lined with cargo containers. "Alright, clear as we go. If you do have any ideas to help this along, feel free to speak up."
"Oh, don't worry, Captain. You'll know." the Gorn said ominously, as the team made there way carefully out of the room and down to there first objective. A barracks.
"Okay, reading about twenty in there. Who wants to knock?"
"Allow me!" the Gorn grumbled as he stowed his weapon and shoulder barged the door. The door buckled inwards, the freight train of a reptile letting off a defiant roar as a crunching sound was heard, followed by a Cardassian being thrown through the portal and against the opposite wall, where he slumped dead, neck broken. Kiso nodded to the others and charged in to the small firefight.
"Engaging!"
"Kill them!"
"Not bloody likely, mate!"
The firefight proved to go on a little longer than both parties wanted. "We need to flush them out of cover..." Kiso muttered.
"I got this!" the Master Chief, a Trill by the name of Rox called out as he primed a grenade, and held it for a second. "FRAG OUT!" he called as he arced the device through the air, before it bounced off a bed and into the opposite side's hiding spot. Quickly followed by loud boom and a shaking floor. After that, they waited a few moments, hearing no reporting fire. "...Think I got 'em?"
"Think you did...Eyes?" Natllu poked her head up over there cover, and looked around.
"Clear!"
"Alright, let's move!" as the piled out the room and back into the corridor, racing to there next objective. The communication hub.
"This is odd, Sir." began the female human. "There's no patrols in the halls...Not even hearing an alarm..."
"Maybe we got more of a drop on 'em than we thought? Still, ain't there a human saying about gift horses?"
"...Right." they continued as they rounded a corner, a pair of Cardassians huddled around a doorway, looking as if they were about to breach. Kiso held up his hand, then aimed the rifle, both of them in his line of fire. The rifle crackled quietly, red lightning sparking along the grooves on the side for a second before an angry, blood red beam launched from the rifle, piercing both Cardies in a single shot before the slumped to the floor, Kiso watching as his arms jolted upwards.
"Yeesh...Some kick on this...Nice gun, though." snickers as the two KDF soldiers look between each other before moving up the hall ahead of there Starfleet counterparts. "Anything?"
"...Nothing. This rooms already been destroyed." Natllu reported. "Someone else must be here...And have the same idea we do."
"Watch your backs and let's move to the shuttle bay." all nodded and followed, the distant sound of a firefight in progress growing louder. "...Okay, that's ominous to hear...Hope it ain't the people you don't want to meet. Could blow the whole thing."
"Then we make sure they don't survive the day." the inside of the shuttle bay was alight with phasor and disruptor fire.
"Alright, watch for friendlies and take the True Way out!" Kiso called as he hopped the railing of the walking, dropping feet first onto his target before whipping around as his gauntlet snapped up, launching a small micro-torpedo at the next and blasting what was left of the body away. "...Nice!" as he turned to the next attacker that was charging him. An unfortunate spot of quick thinking led him to launch a punch. Though the punch wasn't the only thing that was launched as an explosion sent Kiso flying against the wall, whiting out.
"...ptain...Captain, are you alright?" a voice echoed in his ear as his blurred vision returned, a visible crack in his helmet almost perfectly framing a leg in his view, clad in black armor with green lights. He looked up, and found a rather strange looking rifle pointed at his head. "...Huh..." as his vision slowly returned, more details became clear. A couple of armored individuals walking around setting bombs, and the face of the woman holding the gun to his head. One with dark blue markings, and dark purple fur, her lips in a twisted grin. "...We have got to stop meeting like this..." Kiso sighed out.
Back on the Ariane, after a detour to sickbay to get checked out, Kiso, Tira and the other felinoid they met on the base sat in an observation lounge, the latter divulging everything she learned on Qo'noS. "Now do you see what I meant, captain?" the Orion grinned.
"Yeah, yeah..." sighed the Caitian. "Though I'd've preferred a straightforward request rather than a scavenger hunt. Anyway! So! We need to find S'Taev, then."
"Yesss." the Ferasan hissed. "And we don't know where he is."
"But I know where he was." Kiso piped in, with both others looking at him. "Looks like we'll be hanging around Deep Space Nine for a bit to see if he turns back up."
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Nov 28, 2015 2:57:20 GMT
U.S.S. Naganita, Deep Space Nine Rally Point.
"Coyote Tango, you are clear for landing in bay three. Follow guidance."
"Roger, Naganita actual. Coming in cold and slow." the pilot of the iridescent blue craft answered, manipulating the controls, radio chatter continuing as the shadow of the mothership loomed over the cockpit.
"Hellcat four, adjust your angle two degrees starboard. Bay two clear for arrival of Daichi two and three. Hallcat Leader, maintain station keeping. VIPs are inbound, after all."
The pilot sighed at the chatter. It was something he missed. There were times when he'd take the Tango out and just sit and listen to the chatter while he weighed important decisions about ship and task force operations. But, with the Iconian War, such rights were more or less abolished for safety concerns. His thoughts were broken by his passenger. Someone who looked far too uncomfortable in a Starfleet Pilot suit. "Takes some getting used to, I admit...But at least they're functional." he quipped.
"The quicker I can get out of this anthropomorphic coffin, the better." the voice replied. "I still don't see why it was even needed."
"Precautions, as always...Federation bureaucracy you'll have to deal with until this is cleared up." he points out as the ship passed the force field separating the hanger from vacuum. He killed the engines and let the hanger tractor beams pull him in, watching the 'ground crew', as they called themselves, mill about, refueling and re arming Peregrines, touching up the paint on a strange, diamond shaped ship in the background.
"Coyote Tango crew, please remain seated while you are moved to Hanger One. Tiger Squadron launching in T-minus one minute."
"Are all of your craft's fighters a reference to felines?" the co-pilot/passenger quipped.
"Not by choice...I let the squad's name themselves, so we've got Hellcat, that's the Peregrine's in here. Flying Tigers, a wing of Scorpions on loan from the Republic. And Lyon's Pride, which is over in bay two. This," as he patted the controls of the Caitian made Stalker class, "Is a personal craft."
"I see...And that?" as the second occupant pointed at the pointed nose of an unrecognizable shuttle.
"Classified." he answered quickly.
"You keep many secrets, Kiso Hsalo. Makes one wonder..."
"Why I'm doing this?" he cut in as the pad the craft came to rest on jilted and started raising the ship. "I see the long game. This post-war period is gonna be the worst since the Dominion War. If we don't galvanize our alliances, and soon, they'll crumble without a common enemy to fight. Yeah, we have the Terrans make moves again, the Tholians tearing up the quadrant by trying to kill stars, and then Rhetok, who seems to want to start a crusade to burn the Klingon Empire as we see it and reforge it into whatever he wants. So, yeah. I'm putting my neck on the line to make sure we can deal with at least one of these colossal fuck-ups, and quickly."
"...How eloquent, Captain..." the voice sighed as the windows opened to the view of the Naganita's main hanger deck which, compared to the previous one, was both palatial and alive with work as three of the Reman designed Scorpion fighters launched out the bay. "Though the fact your fleet lost there starbase to the Terrans makes me think they have become complacent. Happy to live out there deployment in this lazy little sector of space, rather than on any front." and the immediate reply Kiso was to make was drowned out by the cabin pressurizing before the floor hatch signaled the 'okay' and was opened by outside technicians.
"Look, we managed to pull off that evac with minimal casualties. So bite me on that one, 'kay, Princess?" he grumbled as he hopped out of the craft and onto the hanger floor, removing his helmet as he was greeted by a Human commander.
"Captain Hsalo, glad to have you back aboard." he began. "Crew rotation with the Ariane should be done within the hour, but I'm not quite sure about the VIPs you mentioned..."
"They'll behave, Fletcher. Don't worry. So, full after-action report?" as he was handed a PADD, his passenger leaping out of the craft and quickly discarding her helmet to reveal emerald green skin and hair only a few shades lighter.
"Uh...Captain?" Fletcher asked nervously, his hand twitching at his belt.
"Huh? Oh, Commander Fletcher, Lady Tira Vero. Klingon, Honor Guard, Head of House Karag. And dead, as far as anyone outside this ship is concerned."
"...Understood, sir." and they began walking across the hanger deck. "Though I do wonder why we're doing a shuttle transfer instead of transporter?"
"Naganita's still got burnouts from the battle, and the Ariane only has one Transporter room. And besides..." as he looked over his shoulder longingly at the Stalker sitting in it's berth. "Can you blame me for wanting to get in the cockpit, again?"
"I suppose not, Sir. At least it's not like your last 'landing'."
"I sense a story, here." butted in Tira, causing Fletcher to literally jump in fright.
"My last Stalker, which my crew, in there infinite wisdom decided to name after me, is currently resting under a couple thousand tonnes of ocean. And a Klingon ship called 'Hammerhead'. On Mol'Rihan. Thanks to getting shot by members of my crew under the control of some inter-dimensional species." the last part elicited a verbal prod from the Orion for more. "Like I said. Long game. Alright Fletch, put in for more fuel for the fighter wings, and get those torpedo requisitions filed with Deep Space Nine. Can't believe we literally launched all of them."
"At once, sir." as the exited the hanger into a corridor, the Commander taking his leave to the left, while the other two went right.
"So, does this mean you'll be more engrossed in reclaiming your station, then?" Tira asked, almost accusingly, or goading the feline to admit he was abandoning her cause.
"Fuck, no." he stated, bluntly. "Until the order comes in from Starsinger we're commencing Operation Return Two, Electric Boogaloo, this ship will be searching for anything to help the rightful House of Karag. S'Taev is top of that list. The problem is finding the pointy-eared bastard."
"Frustrated, Captain?" Tira grinned as they entered the turbolift.
"Extremely!"
"Then focus that frustration. After all, isn't that how most of Starfleet's innovations come about? The Transwarp gates, weapons against the Borg, practices against the Undine infiltrators...I could go on."
"Yeah, well, we need more information, first. Shishi is busy with the Imperial database, McBride is indisposed with the Terran situation, as is Decius. And don't even ask me what the fuck K'Vok is doing." he sighs. "Sometimes, I'd like the universe to drop a clue right in here!" he shouted just as the doors opened, revealing a Romulan Republic exchange officer by the name of Arrai.
"News just in, Sir. Scuttlebutt says the SF met with a B'Rel near the Tzenketh border, and is now on it's way back to Deep Space Nine."
"...Well...Guess wishes do come true..." he grinned, sauntering to his chair as Tira stood off to the side, watching a display monitoring the incoming shuttle and fighter traffic. "Then we'll stay put, I'll try and catch McBride down in Quark's, and hopefully we'll hear from the Vorn, soon."
"And if we don't?" Tira asked, her presence making more than a few junior bridge officers a little uncomfortable.
"What else?" as Kiso cheerily spun in his chair to face his KDF counterpart. "We go huntin'!"
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kiso
Member
One-shotted Rebecca Simmons. What chance have YOU got?
Posts: 39
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Post by kiso on Dec 5, 2015 2:59:03 GMT
Qo'noS, First City slums
A hooded figure walked the streets, tugging her cloak close to her. She'd seen the recording. The fallacy blared across the Empire like the wails of dying Targ. "Idiots..." she mumbled. "All of them." as she barged passed a couple of downtrodden Klingons giving her less than innocent looks. "I need to find a way to tell them the truth...Not that I have any proof..." she continued until her train of thought was derailed by a voice.
"Hey! You!" she froze. Had the found her? Had someone recognized her? Before she knew it she was surrounded by two Klingons and an Orion, all male. "Ain't'cha wearing a little too much to be walking these streets?" the Orion jilted. Obviously, he fashioned himself some kind of crime boss, or pimp. Go away, she thought, Before I do something we'll all regret. But the didn't. The inched closer, circling her. "Silent, type, eh? Well, lucky for you, I know a buyer fer your kind." the Orion leered as he moved in front of her, looking her over as one would inspect a prized Targ or Mastiff. Livestock? That's how many in the slums viewed her kind. Usable, tradeable. Ultimately, disposable. "Wassamatter, you ain't got no tongue in yer mouth? That's really gonna drive down yer value, dearie. I would say come quietly, but ye obviously ain't got no words. So let's go, nice and easy..." and as the three closed in, a lifetime of training kicked in. Not the warrior training she'd received over the last half decade or more. But the training of a life she'd tried to bury, tried to forget.
As lecherous hands made for her body, she made a quick, ducking sidestep, twirling around to face the attackers stoically as they almost collided in the space she previously occupied. "Well, now..." the Orion ringleader sneered. "Seems we won't have to waist time training ya wit' moves like that...Get her!" and she continued to duck and weave away from the would be abductors, moving with the sensual grace instilled in her by a decade of service to the Syndicate. Each move serving not just as an escape, but a catalyst as the woman's anger slowly built as each move drug up buried memories. This went on for minutes before her cloak was grabbed. It was whipped off just as her anger peaked, revealing the silver segmented armor beneath.
"Now you've done it..." she muttered as a visored helmet snapped around her head, extending from the back and chest pieces. Her hands reached for the frame of a weapon at her back. Once drawn, she twisted the handle, and glowing energy erupted from emitters to form the traditional shape of the Bat'telh, which was swiftly swung at one of the Klingons, bisecting him neatly.
"Shit! Kill her!" the Orion male shouted as he and his surviving partner drew there own weapons, disruptor weapons most likely bought off the prevalent black market, and opened fire. The woman spun her blade, energy bolts bouncing off it and against the walls as she advanced on the pair, diverting her attention to Klingon as she, in one swift motion, swung the sword around in a crescent motion, cleaving off his leg, arm and finally head. His parts dropped to the ground as she turned to the Orion, who by now was fleeing. She shouldered her blade as she kicked up the fallen Klingon's pistol, snapped it up and fired one shot, which flew through the air slamming into the Orion's back, killing him instantly. Convinced she was clear, she discarded the pistol, deactivated and stored her blade, and reached for her cloak.
"Very well done, Captain." came an ominous voice from the top of the nearby stairs, which the woman snapped too, in a defensive posture. Atop the stairs stood two Klingons. One was instantly recognizable to the woman, while the other was not. The latter stood with white hair, plain grey uniform and an eye patch bolted to his left eye. The former, was none other than Brigadier General Tanok, of House Terrath.
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"It's good to see that rumors of your demise are gratefully proven false, Captain." stated Tanok, now in his private estate outside the First City. The middle-aged Klingon paced his study as the woman and the other sat at his desk. "I dare say you got what you wanted. Whatever conspiracy you were chasing was brought into the open shortly after your 'death'."
"A tactical move, my Lord." the woman stated. "But don't fool yourself with the puppet that made the announcement a few days ago. Look to the puppet master."
"A rather strange way to speak of ones mate, captain." the other Klingon commented idly.
"That man is not Karag!" she blurted out, Tanok turning swiftly at the outburst.
"Quiet!" he roared. "K'men, you're here to confirm what the captain tells us, and to update Imperial Intelligence's data based on what she says."
"Of course, Lord."
"Explain yourself, Tira. How did you manage to get to Qo'noS unnoticed? What proof do you have of your clam that his is not Karag who challenges J'mpok?"
"The cha'bIp is a quick and nimble craft, Lord. And it has a list of locations that the security network is thinnest." a remark which forced a glare from K'men. "As to the claims of this...man. I know my par'mach'kai. How he thinks, how he acts. He would not issue such a challenge. He would fulfill the Klingon way of open challenge within the walls of the Great Hall."
"The word of the dead is hardly evidence, Captain." scathed K'men.
"Then ask Ka'rel!" Tira stood, glaring at K'men with a look that would've sent lesser men cowering. "He has known Karag longer than I! His nephew was involved enough in this to warrant a bounty placed on his head by the Empire! If anyone has any information on this conspiracy, it's either K'vok, or one of your own operatives, K'men!"
"Yes...Commander Hsalo. Troublesome sort, so she is." K'men replied coolly. "Would you believe that she covered for K'vok's escape from Qo'noS? Caused that nasty incident with the debris field. Almost endangered the planet, too. And on top of that, she hacked the IntelNet for various persons reported missing around the time your husband perished in the Delta Quadrant."
"Your point, K'men?" both Tira and Tanok asked in unison.
"If she were a member of the Imperial Navy, I'd have her executed on the spot as soon as she returned here. But, she's not navy. She's getting a promotion, and permanent captaincy of the Vorn." he snickered as he typed on his PADD. "As for what I am going to do with this...While I can't bring your evidence to the Chancellor at this time, Captain, seeing as you're 'dead', I will contact Ka'rel. Urge him to find his nephew and hold him for his own safety. Whether he does or does not is of no consequence, but we need his proof. And we will have it." as he stood. "Captain. General. A pleasure." and he left the study as Tanok barked an order, a security guard moving to escort K'men away.
"...I know you wish to seek revenge, Tira. You have a warrior's soul. Your mastery of Nano-pulse weaponry proves it. But you must keep your temper in check."
"If it wasn't in check, My Lord, half of Qo'noS would've been glass, by now. The T'Ong Nebula would be alight with fire to burn for centuries, and that dishonorable dog Rhetok would be dead at the Chancellors feet, by now. But I am at the end of my patience. Starfleet and the Republic continue to watch from the sidelines, even though the know doing so in the past brought us one of the most destructive wars in the quadrants history! They do not learn from there mistakes!"
"Calm, Tira, calm. I have word that Starfleet recently had a meeting near the Neutral Zone to discuss recent events. One of there task forces is mobilizing near the border worlds. They are acting, but they may be too late."
"There'll be no second chances at this, My Lord."
"Indeed. Which is why you should to your asset in the Alpha Quadrant."
"How? The cha'bIp has already left the system."
"I'll get you passage on the bIrna' tIqDaj. He's due back at Deep Space Nine to shore up the Third Fleet. Can never tell if the Breen will take advantage of our strife. Or the Tholians. Or Terrans. Or whoever has an interest." Tanok sighed.
"And what will you be doing, Lord?"
"Same thing I've been doing since the demon wiped out half the High Council. Advising Terrath's successor. Qapla', Captain!"
"Qapla', my Lord."
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