Barely Human: Shadow Plays

[CeJay]

036 – “The Most Dangerous Animal In The World Is A Politician.“


“I wish to re-assure the good citizens of the Federation that the Nyuchiban Confederacy is appalled and disgusted by these heinous acts perpetrated by this so-called Freedom for Nyuchiba Society.”

Ambassador Fujiwara paused for a moment, looking for all intends and purposes like a man who had meant every word he had said by showing the appropriate amount of outrage and indignation. For a moment he let his gaze wander across the room, filled with two dozen or more representatives from various Federation press agencies and a few more from foreign outlets, all of which recording every image and every word, streaming them live to billions of people all over the galaxy.

“Regretfully we have been aware of this terrorists organization for some time and knew that they have been active mostly within areas of the outer fringes of the Confederacy. They do not enjoy support from the vast majority of nikkeijin who are firm believes, as am I and my government, in peaceful relations with our Federation neighbors. We are humans with a strong and shared history with the people of this world. And while we have chosen a different path for ourselves many generations ago, we will never forget and always treasure our roots which are firmly planted here on Earth. We see the people of Earth as our brethren and I genuinely hope that they see us in a similar manner.

A small minority of people in Nyuchiba have been misguided and deluded by hateful and narrow-minded factions who would like to see the Confederacy turn away from not just our dear brothers and sisters on Earth but from all the Federation and foreign influences. These people do not understand that our cherished world, our very way of life, would never have been possible without our strong bond with Earth and the Federation.

In fact it would be safe to state that the Federation and the Confederacy depend on each other for the continuous well-being of both our peoples. We share the same resources and enjoy the fruits of our joint labors. We are, very much an interconnected people. As one of our societies prospers, so does the other. If one suffers, so does the other.”

The ambassador chose that moment to pause again, letting his words sink in to the many reporters and by extension the great many people watching his speech. He wanted their entire attention before he would shift to his next and most important message, one he needed every Federation citizen to understand and support. Much more than his political career would be on the line if he failed in that vital task.

“It is with great sadness that I stand here today to talk to you. I am saddened because my society suffers. As you well know, and now have painfully been reminded only recently due to the cowardly attacks by the terrorists in San Francisco, Nyuchiba is at war with those few but destructive elements in our society who wish to isolate us from the rest of the galaxy and thereby bring suffering not just on ourselves but on the Federation as well.

I speak of course of the insurgency on Asuka III which has since gripped the entire planet in a wave of senseless violence and murder. Even as I speak, hundreds are being killed by powerful families whose only interest is to reaffirm their unjust and brutal rule. And for those who believe that this war is merely limited to a far flung colony world, let me assure you that the wave of violence is spreading further each day. Most of the Asuka system has become a battlefield and disastrous attacks on the Nyuchiba City Sprawl are becoming a daily occurrence. And as we have learned today, even Earth, the heart of the Federation is now a target of these relentless terrorists and warmongers.”

Another pause. Fujiwara quickly found the correspondence from the Federation News Service, knowing that the single largest press agency within the Federation would also command the single biggest viewership and then looked right into their camera.

“I ask you, the good citizens of the Federation to aid us, in any form you see fit, to take on these warmongers and together to send them the unmistakable message that we will not accept their reign of murder and terror. That we will not sit by quietly while they try to destroy the unbreakable bond that we have shared for centuries. I ask you to help your brothers and sisters just like the Confederacy came to your help during the Great War to fight the Dominion. When we shed blood together to drive the invaders back into the Gamma Quadrant. Let us now come together once more to drive our enemies back under whatever rock they crawled out of. Now, just like during the War, the destines of the Federation and the Confederacy are intertwined. Let us make our stand against fear and hate as one, united people.”

* * *​

“The gods-damned opportunistic little bastard.”

Both the President and Speaker Jarni shot Trelu-Chi Sill surprising looks, not having expected such an outburst from the usually mild-mannered Bolian counsel.

The three men had only just finished watching the live feed of Ambassador Fujiwara press conference form the Nyuchbian embassy just a few blocks down the road from the presidential office at the Palais de la Concorde. It was supposed to be an official reaction from the Nyuchiban government to the hostage crisis in San Francisco but all three men had suspected something more when the Office of the President, the Federation Council and pretty much every news agency in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had been given short advanced notice of the speech. The fact that Fujiwara had been up to more than simply condemn the actions of his kinsmen on Earth had been more than evident when he had appeared with both the Federation flag and his own people’s emblem positioned right behind him.

“I apologize for my outburst, Mister President,” said Sill but was unable to remain sitting in his chair. He quickly turned off the screen as if unable to bear seeing the ambassador’s face anymore and then turned towards his boss. “He practically just single-handedly invoked the FWA provisions and without so much as giving us proper notice or for that matter consulting with us first.”

The white bearded Efrosian gave the Bolian and blank look. “Surely he can’t just do that in a press conference. There are certain protocols to follow.”

“Well, Mister Speaker, the man just tossed the protocols right out of the window. He’s practically addressed the entire Federation on a live feed. And those few million who didn’t catch it now will undoubtedly do so when the FNS will rerun the footage for the rest of the week.”

The speaker of the Federation Council shook his head. “It does not matter how many people have seen this. His government has made no formal request to enact those provisions and we have certainly not agreed in any way or form to consider them.”

Sill took a moment to compose himself before he faced Speaker Jarni again. “Don’t you see, sir, they don’t have to. By now billions of people will have realized that he is absolutely correct about the FWA. Sure, most will never have heard about it but it’s not exactly a secret. All they have to do is spend two minutes on FedNet to learn that we asked thousands of mercenaries to fight the Dominion during the War in return for money, resources and political favors. And guess what we promised the Nyuchibans? Do you really think that after today the masses won’t scream for us to hold up our end of the bargain?”

“The majority isn’t always right,” said Jarni.

“Certainly not. Unfortunately for us, that’s how a democracy works. By the time you get back into the council chambers you will have to deal with dozens of councilors with pressure from their constituents driving them to ask for a special session on these matters. Before long there’ll be a vote and if we’ll try to block it we’ll look like we don’t want to get our hands dirty fighting terrorists which have already struck on our own soil.”

“What are our options?” said the President in his deliberate speech pattern.

The Bolian let himself fall back in his chair, seemingly deflated. “I don’t think we have much of choice at this point, Mister President. Naturally we’ll have to see how public opinion plays out after this. But unless Tessier can pull off a miracle in San Francisco and end the hostage crisis quickly and without further losses of life, Starfleet military action on Asuka III may be unavoidable.”

 

[BrotherBenny]

From the frying pan into the fire at warp speed.

Can this day possibly get any worse?

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

*Clap*Clap* - Well-played, Mr. Ambassador, well-played.

Mr. Fujiwara just tossed a primed political hand grenade into the hands of the President and the Federation Council. The Bolian is right - FWA is a done-deal, regardless of official protocol (or the lack there-of).

Nice political hot potato, CeJay! Not that I should be surprised to see a political hack acting like a, well, political hack. Still, I didn't really see this coming.

Looking forward to seeing how you write your way out of this mess. Keep it coming!

 

[CeJay]

From the frying pan into the fire at warp speed.

Can this day possibly get any worse?

Now you just jinxed it. Of course it will ...

*Clap*Clap* - Well-played, Mr. Ambassador, well-played.

Mr. Fujiwara just tossed a primed political hand grenade into the hands of the President and the Federation Council. The Bolian is right - FWA is a done-deal, regardless of official protocol (or the lack there-of).

Nice political hot potato, CeJay! Not that I should be surprised to see a political hack acting like a, well, political hack. Still, I didn't really see this coming.

Looking forward to seeing how you write your way out of this mess. Keep it coming!

Savvy political move, eh? I suppose the question is, is here anyway out of this mess at all at this point.

Thank you both for reading and commenting. More coming this weekend.

 

[CeJay]

037 – “Getting In Is The Easy Part.”


The little intel they had suggested that there were both hostages and terrorists on the roof which meant their approach and deployment had to be quick and ruthless in order to minimize the chance of the terrorists killing any further hostages or warning their comrades on the seventy-fourth floor.

In order to achieve this, Hot Rod had killed all the SAFVe’s lights and let the shuttle drop rapidly in a vertical approach until they reached the optimal height from which the team could be lowered onto the top of Fed Plaza.

Four men stayed back on the SAFVe, scanning the roof with their rifles to immediately eliminate any terrorists while the eight remaining team members, including Mech and Gavin repelled downwards.

The LT of course didn’t entirely rely on the overwatch as she glided towards the roof. With her compactly-designed assault rifle at the ready, she was prepared to take out any enemy she could find. Experience told her that the insertion part of this mission was one of the trickiest. One mistake here, one opponent overlooked and their precious element of surprise was ruined.

The entire team touched down at about the same time and instantly formed a circle in order to cover every angle.

The first thing Mech realized was that she was unable to contact anyone using her comms. She would have to use visual and verbal prompts to lead her team.

The second thing she had noticed was the fact that nobody had fired a single shot yet, meaning neither anyone in her insertion team nor the overhead cover guys had made contact with the enemy.

“It’s too quiet,” whispered Gavin who knelt just a few feet next to the LT, continuously scanning his sector for movement that wasn’t there.

Mech raised her arm into the air, made a fist and then pulled it down again. It was a sign to Hot Rod, letting her know to say in position for as long as she could. The cover would come in useful if the enemy was hiding somewhere on the roof. Time however, she realized, was not in their favor. Starfleet would be making its move soon, no doubt making every attempt to get the unauthorized MSD vessel out of the closed air space.

“Two teams. Sweep the roof,” she said and thanks to their training didn’t have to elaborate further. Everyone already knew which team they would belong to and which way to head for.

Mech, Gavin, Panettiere and Hickson slowly approached what appeared to be the main building access.

“Movement,” Gavin said when he spotted the door being opened and immediately went back onto one knee and ready to take out whoever emerged.

The rest of the team followed suit.

“I thought you’d never get here,” a familiar and deep voice exclaimed just before a mountain of a man appeared in the doorframe.

“Jesus Christ, Tank,” said Gavin as he lowered his rifle and began to stand, fully mindful that he had almost blasted away a fellow team-member. “How about a heads up next time, huh?”

“Sorry rook, but I figured it be safer in here. Didn’t want our guys to mistake me as a bad guy when you came racing out of the sky. With no comms and all.”

Mech nodded and stood also. “Wise precaution. What do we got?”

Before he could answer, Jackson Slade appeared and pushed himself passed the huge Tank in order to address the team leader. “Routine hostage situation. Approximately seventeen well-armed tangos minus three and located on the seventy-fourth floor. Somewhere between forty to fifty hostages. We’ve got three hostages secured and lost one.”

The LT acknowledged with a sharp nod. “Let’s get the three hostages out of here now and then proceed to seventy-four.”

It took Tank less than a minute to round up the two women and one man who were all shaken up but not enough to not be extremely grateful to still be alive, considering that they had been chosen to be sacrificed first.

The team secured them to the smart-robes still dangling from the SAFVe above and they were quickly and safely whisked up into the hovering shuttle. Seeing no more immediate need for Hot Rod to remain stationary, she gave the pilot the signal to disengage.

“Contrary to Slade’s report, there isn’t much routine about this operation,” said Tank as he led the team down into the building. He directed them to two unconscious bodies which appeared to belong to the terrorists.

“My God,” said Gavin when he realized that one of them had the skin of his face pulled off. But instead of bone and muscle, the man’s skull was made out of gleaming synthetic materials. “Another full-body android.”

“They all are,” said Slade.

“That changes things,” said Mech and then went on to answer Tank and Slade’s asking expressions. “Based on what we have found at Half Moon Bay we have to assume that the entire building may have been wired with tri-cobalt explosives. If the hostage takers are androids, it stands to reason that they are considered expandable and that blowing up the building is more than just a contingency plan.”

Slade nodded in agreement. “Our first priority has to be to get the rest of the hostages out of the building. And we probably don’t have much time. They may decide to light the fuse the moment they suspect that we have breached the building.”

Mech didn’t say anything as she considered her options.

Tank noticed the inappropriate introspection. “Teamwork, LT, remember?”

She gave him a little smile. “You know me, never has been my strong point.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that if these guys are androids I may be able to hack into their cybernetic brains to find out what’s going on here.”

But Slade didn’t appear to like the idea. “We already know what’s going on. These guys are Nyuchiban terrorist trying to make a political statement by killing hostages. We need to take them out before this escalates.”

“I’m not convinced that that’s all there is.”

“So say you’re right,” said Gavin. “We still need to clear those hostages before these guys get a chance to burry us all. That’s gotta be the priority, right?”

Mech nodded slowly. “It is. But the moment they make us we may already be doomed. All it takes is one command to trigger this thing. No, we need another strategy to get close without them knowing it.”

At that Tank smirked. “I think I know a way. Tell me, LT, how do you feel about joining a party?”

* * *​

“It’s a shuttle, ma’am, and it just deployed a strike team on the roof,” said the ensign who had been tasked to monitor the airspace around Fed Plaza.

This news had immediately captured the full attention of everyone assembled in the runabout cum command center but none more so than Admiral Tessier. “I didn’t give authorization for a strike team to enter through the roof. Whose shuttle is it?”

The ensign shook his head. “Not one of ours, ma’am.”

“It’s mine,” said Masamune.

The Starfleet admiral whipped around to face the MSD chief. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she barked.

But he failed to be intimidated. Instead he carefully placed both his hands on top of his ivory cane and returned her intense stare. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. Besides, I told you I already have people on the inside. I was not about to leave them there without backup.”

Captain Whren, the Andorian security officer, quickly jumped into the fray as well. “You’ve just crossed a line, Masamune. This is a Starfleet operation you are interfering with now. You are in violation of an executive, presidential order. Once we’re done with you, you’ll never operate within the Federation again.”

The chief threw him a quick sidelong glance. “My operation precedes your presidential order. We were following an ongoing investigation which so happens to have led us directly to Fed Plaza. It also means, Captain, that we are much more qualified for this mission as we actually have an idea of what is happening here.”

“It’s a hostage crisis,” he shot back. “What else is there to know?”

General Schneider from the UEDA rose from his chair. “Mister Masamune, you could have at least given us the professional courtesy of a heads-up that you were planning this.”

The chief nodded, acceding the point. “I would have loved to. However I already knew what Starfleet’s reaction would have been and I couldn’t risk that.”

“You are such an arrogant, little –“

“Thank you, Captain,” said Tessier, cutting Whren off before facing Masamune again. “I want your people out of there and your shuttle to pull back, now.”

“That would be difficult with communications down.”

Tessier’s fuming eyes gave away her frustration which she managed to keep mostly contained in front of the assembled officers. “Then we’ll have it removed for you,” she said and then focused on the Andorian. “Captain, have that shuttle escorted out of the airspace and then prepare our own strike team. Perhaps we can use this unsanctioned assault as a distraction for our own infiltration.”

“And what if they resist?” said Whren, shooting Masamune an annoyed look.

“Then you take appropriate actions,” the admiral shot back.

 

[BrotherBenny]

Turf wars, don't you just love 'em.

Starfleet are being idiots here. They should have a joint task force.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

This is a bad time for the big dogs to worry about marking their territory.

As Masamune pointed out, his team was already in the building, fait accompli, prior to the presidential order. It's a fine line, perhaps, but an appropriate and gutsy call on his part not only to back up his people on the scene but to hopefully end this crisis.

Not that I expect it to go that easily.

 

[Dnoth]

God, I hate pissing contests. Unfortunately, they happen so often.

Here's to hoping the two forces don't get those hostages killed.

 

[CeJay]

038 – “The She-Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing"


Kara Katanagi and Osshi Yamadera had been sitting, cuddled together in the washroom of her office for the last thirty minutes, barely saying a single word to each other in fear that the terrorists which had taken over the building may overhear them.

Kara had been cradling the tiny phaser Tank had given her and had spent most of her time staring at the air vent he had disappeared through earlier.

When they heard noises coming from down the shaft, they both jumped nervously and Katanagi promptly dropped the weapon on the floor.

“What … what’s happening?” Osshi whispered.

Kara managed to pick up the phaser again but for the next few seconds she was unable to move as she was paralyzed by fear.

The noise was getting louder, somebody was coming through the vent.

Katanagi pulled herself up and gestured for her colleague to hide next to the hatch which he did reluctantly. Motivated by not wanting to be killed without even putting up a fight, she quickly positioned herself on the opposite side and held out her phaser to point at the exit of the shaft. But her hand was shaking so much, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hit whoever would emerge from the hatch.

She thought that it sounded like more than one person making their way through the tight duct and she held her breath when the cover popped open.

A big, dark-skinned and hairless head emerged first.

“Oh thank god, thank god,” she whispered, dropped her weapon and quickly began to help Tank out of the vent. “I thought you left us behind. Damn it, I thought you left us here to die,” she repeated and then began to hit the huge CCiD operative.

“Ok, take it easy, lady,” he said but couldn’t help himself from smirking as she futility tried to punch him with her relatively tiny fists. “I told you I’d come back and I did.”

She stopped trying to hit him. “Don’t do that again.”

“You got yourself a new friend there, Boss?”

Embarrassed Tank quickly yet gently pushed Kara away as Gavin climbed out from the vent.

“I brought some help with me,” he said. “That’s Agent Thorgood and the LT,” he said once Mech had also emerged.

“This is Kara Katanagi and Jack.”

“Osshi,” the other man corrected in a tiny voice.

Katanagi looked over the two other agents. “Is that it? Three people? Against a dozen terrorists? You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, having accomplished to turn from anger to gratefulness and back to frustration in less than a minute.

“Don’t worry, Kara,” said Tank, trying to sound warm and reassuring with limited success. “These guys are professionals and we’ve got a plan. Besides we have a whole team on standby, ready to jump in. Now, it’s important that you and Jack remain calm and do exactly as we tell you. We’ll all get you out of her safe and sound but we need you to cooperate no matter how crazy it’ll sound. Can you do that?”

She needed a few more seconds to compose herself, take a couple of calming breaths and then nodded to him. “OK.”

“Good,” he said and then looked at Mech. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, should be about the right size,” she said.

Katanagi didn’t understand. “Right size for what?”

And then she watched wide-eyed when the female agent began to first kick off her boots, then begin to pull off her vest and bodysuit without so much as a warning.

“What’s she doing?”

Tank turned to face the perplexed woman. “She’ll need to borrow your dress.”

“What?”

“Listen, we don’t have too much time here. You said you’ll cooperate. Please we just need your dress.”

Glancing past the massive Tank, Katanagi could see that the woman was already down to her underwear. “I … alright. But I’m not getting undressed in front of strangers.”

“Didn’t have a problem with that before.”

She shot him a venomous look.

He gave her a smirk. “OK, go into the stall and just hand me the dress once you’re done.”

She nodded and began to walk off.

“Gentlemen, enjoying the show?” he asked when he noticed that both Oshii and Gavin hadn’t been quite able to completely ignore Mech stripping down right in front of them, seemingly with not a single shred of shame.

The two men quickly averted their eyes and Gavin mumbled something about being a happily married man.

“What about you, big fella,” said Mech with a playful smirk. “Last time I checked you were a man, too.”

He shrugged. “Nothing there I haven’t seen before.”

She walked right passed him an up to the stall in which Katanagi had disappeared to. Within moments she had the elegant Mandarin dress draped over the door for Mech.

Tank in the meantime caught Oshii unable to help sneaking another peek at his attractive and half-naked team-leader. “If you knew what that flawless body was made off, you wouldn’t be staring so hard, Jack,” he said, causing the now red-faced man to quickly turn away again.

The LT managed to put on the dress which, even though not a perfect fit – she was a little taller than Katanagi – worked well enough on her. “The shoes as well,” she said.

Turned out the high-heels were a bit of a problem. Mech made them fit somehow but after trying just one step, the usually athletic and sure-footed woman nearly fell flat on her face.

Tank couldn’t help but utter a short burst of subdued laughter. “Never thought I’d see you loose your balance.”

“How the hell do people walk in these?” she asked and tried again slowly, for all purposes, looking like a child at her first attempt to walk in her mother’s high heels. However within a few more steps she had regained her balance and surprisingly managed to move without much of an effort at all. “Ah, like this. How do I look?” she said, striking a pose.

“Stunning,” said Gavin when he caught her in the tight, red dress with the matching red shoes.

Tank clapped him on his back. “Don’t let the wife hear you say that,” he said and then to the LT. “I think you’re going to knock them out.”

“Literally, let’s hope.”

* * *​

She was on all fours, crawling awkwardly in the restrictive dress, trying to get from the top of the staircase back towards the hallway which contained her office.

She had to remain low in order to avoid the chance of being spotted by the terrorists who were holding their hostages on the lower floor. And while she tried to listen carefully for any voices or movement coming from below, the silence was palpable. She thought she could hear the soft moans and cries of the hostages. Some had to be injured while most were simply scared. Scared enough apparently to keep their voices down to a minimum.

The hostage takers didn’t seem to speak at all.

She had almost made it around the corner and into the hallway. With her neck still craned back to look over her shoulder when she suddenly sensed a presence. She turned her head forward again and she came within inches of a gun barrel pointed right at her.

She squeaked in surprise.

“Who are you?”

She looked up at the man pointing the rifle at him. He was dressed in a smart party tuxedo and was maybe 5’10’’, not very tall and seemingly not particularly muscular.

When she didn’t respond, he moved the riffle emitter closer to her forehead. “What is your name?”

“Kara … Kara Katanagi,” the dark-haired woman stuttered.

“What are you doing up here?”

“I was trying to get … to get – “

He didn’t let her finish when it became obvious that she had been attempting to escape. He reached for her arm and pulled her onto her feet as she yelped helplessly.

“You will return with me. If you resist, you will be killed,” he said curtly.

The woman didn’t fight him as she was being led back towards the staircase and then down to the large reception hall.

Mech quickly took in the scene. The hostages had been positioned on the floor and with their backs to the bar counter and few others near the idyllic waterfall. She counted forty-six in total. Five were bleeding from minor scrapes they had probably received by either not following instructions quickly enough or while diving for cover. One male hostage had been shot in the leg, presumably while resisting the terrorists. It did not appear to be a life threatening wound and it had been decently cleaned and bandaged by a fellow partygoer with some basic first aid skills.

She counted fourteen terrorists, all wearing similar dinner jackets and all armed with latest generation Romulan-style disruptor rifles. Extremely efficient and extremely deadly weaponry and not something easy to come by.

They all looked like typical nikkeijin, not too tall or overly muscular and with obvious East Asian facial features. Of course Mech already knew that all that was most likely an illusion. These were not real, flesh and blood humans. Not even in the loosest sense.

As she was led towards the bar counter, she quickly noted the enemies’ positions. Four were watching the hostages. Two by the waterfall and two by the bar. Three stood by the floor to ceiling windows, giving them the best vantage point not only overlooking the floor but also keeping an eye out on what was happening outside. Two stood by the doors leading to the staircase and another three covered the four elevators.

From what Slade had said, she had to assume at least another four or five terrorists in the lobby on the ground floor plus perhaps another two or three in the staircase. Best guess and not counting the three already neutralized on the roof, there were about twenty-two remaining terrorists in the building, all armed and all full-body androids.

The one she was most interested in at the moment was the one with the small purple orchid attached to his jacket’s lapel. He had been the one who had delivered their demands earlier. He stood among the other two by the windows, facing the floor he kept a watchful eye over everything.

He was without doubt the leader. A notion which was further confirmed when she saw the man who had found her make eye contact with him. They were communicating. The man with the purple orchid gave her a brief glance and then quickly lost interest again.

“Who … who are you?” one of the hostages asked Mech after she had been placed on the floor among the other partygoers.

This, Mech quickly realized, was the trickiest part of her infiltration. Nobody in this crowd knew who she was and she had to assume that most of these people were co-workers and therefore knew each other quite well. If the terrorists realized that she was a stranger too soon, her plan would fall apart.

“Kara,” she said and then, before the man could ask another question, very slowly shook her head, for just a moment the look on her face turning deadly serious before it was once again replaced by the scared expression she had been maintaining.

The man apparently caught the sudden change and while he couldn’t quite dispel the confused look on his own face, he managed to say nothing else.

Mech knew that time was not on her side. Less than five minutes had passed since they had landed on the roof and perhaps ten since Tank had disposed of the terrorists on the roof. By know they had to be suspicious about the fact that they had not been able to raise their comrades.

Her biggest concern of course was the potential bomb somewhere hidden within the building. If she was right and the bomb was more than just a precaution and instead an integral part of their plan, they could detonate it at any point and at the first sign of trouble. For now she hoped they had a strict timetable to work towards. After all, the longer this crisis went on, the longer the press agencies were broadcasting live feeds of the occupied Fed Plaza building across the Federation and the more terror would spread among those billions of citizens glued to the ongoing coverage.

It meant she had to make her move and she had to make it soon.

* * *​

 

[Dnoth]

Gusty move. Hopefully, the other captives won't inadvertently narc on her.

 

[CeJay]

039 - “And That’s How You Crash A Party.”


“Doesn’t make much of a difference, does it?” said the real Katanagi as she finished zipping up Mech’s from-fitting bodysuit. “It doesn’t exactly leave much to the imagination.”

“You fill it out well,” said Tank absent-mindedly.

She glared at him but then quickly softened her expression.

They stood near the windows of her office and separated from the rest of the assault team which had eventually followed Tank, Gavin and Mech through the air vent.

Kara took a moment to ensure that she would not be overheard. “So about earlier,” she started. “At the party when you asked me to come up here. You weren’t thinking about, you know, anything other than getting me to safety?”

But the colossal MSD agent’s mind seemed somewhere else entirely as he kept his gaze out of the window and towards the ground hundreds of feet below.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Huh?” he looked at her as if seeing the woman for the first time.

Her frown returned. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”

“Listen, in case you hadn’t noticed yet, I have a lot on my plate right now.”

“Trust me, I had noticed,” she shot back. “But it didn’t look like those terrorists were on your mind just now.”

She had clearly hit a nerve and he was quick to dismiss it, not wanting to talk about his thoughts. “You’d be much safer in the washroom with Jack.”

She rolled her eyes at his refusal to call the man by his real name. “From what I’ve overheard there isn’t a safe place in the building at the moment on the account of that bomb and what not. Besides, I want to make sure I get that dress back. I paid good money for it.”

“Fine. But when the moment comes, you do exactly what I say when I say it. No discussion and no hesitation,” he said and shot one last glance towards the outside. “You do that and I’ll promise I’ll get you out of here alive.”

She appeared momentarily touched by his thoughtfulness and simply nodded.

Tank left her and walked over to were Gavin, Sylvester and the rest of the team were getting ready, double-checking their equipment.

“Remember, short, tight bursts. Two in the torso should be enough to finish them. Don’t even try to go for the head, it’s too small of a target and if you miss you’re bound to get somebody else in the crossfire,” said Sylvester to Gavin and the others.

“Got it,” said the rookie agent, trying to mask the nervousness in his tone. “So now we just wait for the LT’s signal? Any idea what that’ll be?”

“You know it when you’ll hear it,” said Tank, grabbed his rifle and then sat down on the floor with his back towards the wall.

Gavin nodded and sat next to him. “God, the waiting is the hardest part, huh?”

Tank barely even acknowledged him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, noticing that his eyes appeared glued to the window at the opposite side of the room.

“I’m fine, stop asking me that.”

Gavin wanted to point out that he had really only asked him once but decided against it. He was clearly in a foul mood. “It’s about that hostage you weren’t able to save earlier, isn’t it?”

“Listen, rookie,” he said sharply and shot him a sideway glance. “You don’t know me well enough to be able to know what I’m thinking of.”

“Right.”

They remained sitting there like that for another minute without saying a word to each other.

“You know that there isn’t anything you could have done differently though, right? It wasn’t your fault that man was killed.”

“You’re damned right it wasn’t. I’ve gone over it at least a dozen times in my head and there is nothing I could have done to save that guy. Nothing. I just wasn’t fast enough. That’s all it is. Not fast enough. All I know is that it’s not going to happen again. No matter what, I’m not going to let it happen again.”

* * *​

Something was happening. Mech had been watching the man with the purple orchid very closely since she had been brought into the lobby and now, for the first time, his facial expression had changed. It was almost imperceptible but it was there nevertheless.

He looked towards two of his men who gave him sharp nods in acknowledgment and then set out towards the elevators.

According to her calculations they had at least another 20 minutes until they would make good on executing another hostage. Which meant that whatever they were doing now had most likely not been scheduled.

Mech had known that something like this was going to happen. It had only been a matter of time until they realized something had gone wrong on the roof and would have to go to investigate. The fact that they had not taken this unforeseen complication as a reason to detonate the bomb was enough reason to confirm her initial theory that they planned to stick to a pre-arranged timetable.

But all that would change when they realized that their roof sentries were dead or incapacitated and the building and been infiltrated. She had to make her move now.

She stood from where she had been held by the bar counter and immediately caused her guards to draw a bead on her. “Hey,” she said, her loud voice reverberating through the large lobby and quickly garnering everyone’s attention.

The man with orchid turned to look at her.

“That’s right. I’m talking to you. You’re in charge here, right?”

“Sit down and remain quiet,” he responded.

“No,” she said forcefully. “We’ve been sitting here quietly for long enough. As a senior representative of the Nyuchiba-Federation Trade Alliance I wish to negotiate our release.”

“There is no negotiation. Our demands have been communicated to the Federation government and it is in their power, and their power alone, to secure your release.”

She took a step towards him but stopped when the guards quickly moved closer, their disruptor rifles pointed at her head. She threw up her hands in surrender and stepped back towards the counter. Then she focused on the leader again. “Come on, you guys are nikkeijin, aren’t you? You want money? Power? I could arrange something back on Nyuchiba if you are willing to negotiate with me.”

“There will be no negotiation.”

Mech realized that she would have to change track. “OK fine, I can’t give you what you want. But how about you get us something we need? We have injured here that need medical attention. We are thirsty and hungry, some of us need use the washrooms. Surely you don’t want a crowd of unruly hostages. Let’s work something out.”

He stepped down from the raised platform by the windows and moved closer. “You would do yourself and your colleagues a favor by following our instructions, starting with sitting back down and remaining quiet.”

That’s right come to me. “You let us have a dermal regenerator, some food and a washroom break and I’ll sing and dance for you.”

He raised his rifle to point the muzzle at her head. “You do not appear to understand the peril you are inviting upon yourself and your colleagues by disregarding my directive.”

Some of the other hostages were beginning to grow more frightful now. Some were urgently whispering for her to simply sit down and shut up. Others were beginning to cry, unable to take the rising tensions.

“The hostages are going to become restless,” she said. “Are you going to risk that? What will you do then? Start shooting us. That will force the authorities outside to take immediate action and potentially end this whole thing long before you want it to.” Almost there, just a few more feet. Come on.

But the man with purple orchid stopped just outside of her reach and began to look her over closely and with increasing suspicion.

Mech knew she had gone too far. In her attempt to goad him within easy striking distance she had crossed the line between helpless and frightened hostage to assertive and cunning operative too quickly as not to raise his suspicions.

It’s as good as it’s going to get.

He must have made the decision that she was not who she claimed to be and was therefore a threat to be neutralized at once, at the same time as she made her call to action.

He once more took aim with his rifle as if ready to shoot her down even while she bend at her knees and then lifted off the ground in a vertical jump. She grabbed hold of a number of colorful streamers hanging from the ceiling and used her foot to kick against the bar counter behind her to give her the momentum to swing forward and towards the terrorist leader.

He fired at her but by that time she was already flying towards him and simply pulled her legs up to her chest to avoid the disruptor blast.

Before he could take proper aim again she was on top of him. She was thankful that Katanagi’s dress had been risqué thanks to a side slit going almost all way up to her hip, otherwise her current maneuver would not have worked.

She wrapped her leg tightly around his throat, catching his head just inside her knee and pulled him off his feet, dragging him with her as she swung in a curve and back towards the bar.

His rifle clattered to the floor but the remaining terrorists reacted quickly, bringing their own weapons to bear and opening fire, taking out dozens of streamers in the process but failing to connect with Mech.

The LT had too much momentum now to slow down and crashed into the back of the bar at full speed, taking down bottles, glasses and anything else that wasn’t bolted down as she and the terrorist leader fell behind the counter.

Having been prepared for the harsh impact she needed almost not time at all to recover which was good because she didn’t have any. Her move had bought her a few seconds of cover at the most, which was all it would take for the gunmen to get around that counter and have a clean shot.

Her hand darted under the red dress to retrieve the data port she had hidden there. She slapped one tiny disk on the dazed terrorist’s neck and the other on hers.

Within a flash she found herself within the virtual construct of his enhancer and fighting off his active firewalls designed to attack and neutralize an intruding hacker.

Thankfully for Mech his defenses had not been designed to keep out the likes of her. Whoever had sent these guys had not expected the enemy to know that they were mere puppets who could be hacked. They were supposed to pass for flesh and blood humans, terrorists wanting to strike fear into the heart of Federation citizens.

Mech already knew that there was much more at stake here than that and she put up a new record in getting passed those protective firewalls.

No motivation like getting your head shot off any second.

Her first priority was to confirm the presence of an explosive device in the building. Then, shut it down remotely. After that find the communication and transporter scramblers, shut those down as well and this hostage crisis would resolve itself within moments.

And do all that in less time than it would take a man to walk around a barrier and fire on a defenseless target.

For all her hacking skills it was simply not enough time.

But she found the bomb. Remote detonated tri-cobolt explosive with a detonation velocity of over 500 meters per second and a yield of 8.2 tons of TNT, enough to level three Fed Plazas.

She also established that it was located in the buildings sub-basement and attached to the structural support pillars. She killed the remote link but in her haste failed to realize that it would immediately engage the bombs countdown timer set to ten minutes.

And that was all the time she had.

Mech pulled out of his enhancer and found herself lying on her back with the still dazed terrorist leader on top of her. She reached for her inner thigh were she had concealed her Glock, pulled it free form the holster and then up in a smooth and uninterrupted motion to fire just in time to tag the first terrorist coming around the counter right between the eyes.

Then she let herself fall on her back again, raised her weapon over her head and fired two more shots at another terrorist who had tried to come up behind her.

However in her compromised position, with the weight of the leader pushing down on her, she had no chance to take out everyone converging on her.

The third man there had the opportunity to put her down for good. He raised his rifle and had a clear shot at Mech.

He never got it.

The man was cut down by a burst of automatic weapons fire coming from above.

Then the lights went out.

“Hostages, lay face down on the floor and cover your heads,” Tanks voice boomed from somewhere above.

And then the fireworks started in earnest.

The first explosion took down the door leading to the staircase, knocking the two guards stationed there to the floor immediately. The second one did something similar to one of the elevator doors.

While half the MSD strike team entered through openings they had just made, the rest covered their insertion from the upper floor, raining down precise bursts of duranium bullets on the terrorists below. Their enhancers made it easy to find their target in the darkness which was incomplete thanks only to the bright moonlight shining through the panoramic windows.

Mech decided to thank her team for the timely intervention later. For now she had to deal with the man with the orchid who was coming back around. She knew she had to take him out now. Once he fully regained his senses and realized what had happened, he could possibly re-establish the link to the bomb and detonate it.

“Bye, bye, bye,” she said in a sing-song voice as she pressed the muzzle of her gun against his temple. “Bye, bye Johnny.”

She squeezed the trigger, painting the wall with half his cybernetic brain.

Mech quickly pushed the dead weight off her and got back on her feet. She took stock of the situation instantly and determined that her team had things well in hand. The terrorists were at a clear disadvantage and while the weapon fire drowned the desperate cries of the hostages, it appeared they had followed Tank’s directive and kept hugging the floor. The gunmen were too busy trying to fend off the surprise assault as to turn their weapons against them.

Mech couldn’t afford to try and help take control of the situation. She had less than ten minutes to try and stop the bomb from blowing them all to kingdom come. She had to move fast.

Securing her gun, she didn’t want to lose it, she leaped from behind the counter and while even while up in the air she found a terrorist firing at the railing above, trying to keep the strike team contained. For additional momentum, she flipped in mid-air, brining her outstretched leg down hard against the man’s shoulder and then extended her other leg, smashing the sole of her boot into his face.

He went down hard.

Mech landed on the floor next to him on one knee, grabbed the rifle he had dropped and then had to make a split-second decision.

She had to get to the basement in a hurry with enough time to spare to defuse the primed bomb. She fully understood that there was no chance for the strike team to mop up the terrorists and evacuate the building within the timeframe available. Not even if she helped out.

The other option had been to locate the transporter scramblers but she had no idea where they had been set up, not to mention how many of them were in the building.

It was the basement then. But how to get there in five minutes or less?

The elevator shaft was her first instinct.

She got up and turned towards the area which held the turbo-lifts.

The immediate problem; most of the terrorists not occupied with the MSD team assaulting from above were now busy fending off the attack coming from exactly the direction she needed to take.

Between her team trying to storm onto the floor and terrorists attempting to hold them off there was simply no chance to make it her exit. She was good, she knew, but not good enough to fight herself through all that within a short amount of time and without putting her own people at risk while doing so.

She glanced at the windows and knew that it was her only option.

Mech set out.

“She drew out all her money out of the Southern Trust, and put her little boy aboard a Greyhound Bus,” she sang to herself to the beat of the steady weapons fire all around her and a melody which existed only in her mind. Without hesitation she ran up to one of the terrorists in her way, he had his back turned towards her, and snapped his neck with such force, his head nearly popped off his shoulders.

Not quite the way to destroy a full-body android but it was all the time she had as she let the momentarily disabled terrorist drop to the floor.

The next one saw her coming however and raised his rifle to take aim.

Mech didn’t slow down. “Leaving Louisiana for the Golden West, down came the tears from her happiness.”

She could see the armed man-bot trying to make sense of her words without success. It bought her precious seconds to get within striking distance and push the barrel of his rifle towards the floor just as he opened fire.

Her other arm extended backwards along with her entire left shoulder before snapping forward again and smashing her fist into his face will all the force she could muster. The result wasn’t pretty but it got the job done and another android went down.

By now she had nearly reached her destination and only one more terrorists stood between her and those floor to ceiling windows overlooking the City by the Bay.

She brought up the appropriated rifle even as she ran towards him at full speed and before he had the chance to take proper aim. “Her own little son name 'o Johnny B. Goode, was gonna make some motion pictures out in Hollywood,” she sang and unloaded onto the terrorist at the same time.

By unleashing one fiery bold of hot plasma after the next long after the body had been burned beyond recognition she achieved her secondary objective. The limp and lifeless android was hurled backwards with enough momentum to smash right through those thick, reinforced window panes and creating her exit in the process.

Here goes nothing.

“Bye, bye, Johnny. Good bye Johnny B. Goode.”

She leaped forward and into the night.

* * *​

 

[Dnoth]

LOL. I love it. Star Trek meets Die Hard...yippie kia, mother .

 

[CeJay]

LOL. I love it. Star Trek meets Die Hard...yippie kia, mother .

I cannot deny that a certain eighties action flick may have helped inspire parts of this story.

Thanks for reading, Dnoth.

 

[BrotherBenny]

I'm waiting for the bit when everyone thinks our hero is dead, then finds out he's still alive because NO ONE makes the bad guys THAT angry but him.

 

[CeJay]

I'm waiting for the bit when everyone thinks our hero is dead, then finds out he's still alive because NO ONE makes the bad guys THAT angry but him.

Something like that would never happen here ... or would it? Stay tuned.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

 

[CeJay]

040 – “With A Little Help From My Friends.”


Mech had never been a spiritual person but as she sailed through the air, 900 feet over the ground, she knew she needed a least a little miracle to survive what her boss would certainly have called an insane solo stunt. One he had explicitly asked her not to engage in.

Sometimes you just don’t get what you want.

She’d had enough of a run-up to the windows to hope that she was going to be able to get passed the jamming field in the building.

<Hot Rod, East side, now,> she said through her enhancer and prayed to Bhudda, the Great Bird of the Galaxy or whatever other deity deigned to listen to her at that moment, that the call went through.

There was very little else she could do as she swung her arms as if peddling the air in an attempt to drive herself forward and as far away from the building as gravity would allow.

Of course by that point she was already plummeting towards the Earth which was approaching at mind-numbing speed. Mech was an extraordinarily gifted athlete assisted by her not-so-natural enhancements but these weren’t the snow-cowered peaks of Nepal. This was the concrete jungle and no artificial augmentation in the universe was going to allow her to survive a fall from this height.

Below her she could see lights and hundreds of people who had spotted her by now, as well as the much more unlucky terrorist she had used to destroy the windowpanes. They stared upwards with a mixture of fear and excitement, most likely assuming that more hostages had been thrown out of the building and were now plunging to their deaths.

She thought she could hear the collective gasp of the helpless spectators below as they watched the drama unfold in front of their very eyes.

* * *​

Tessier and half the complement of the command center were out of the runabout the moment they had detected the two figures smash through the windows on the seventy-fourth floor as if witnessing the unfolding disaster with their eyes would somehow be preferable than following it from the command center’s monitors.

“One seems to be a terrorist and the other one of the hostages,” said Captain Whren as he looked through a set of powered binoculars, quickly focusing on the woman in the red dress sailing through the air hundreds of feet above, momentarily defying gravity.

The admiral took the binoculars off him to get a look herself. “What the hell is happening up there? We still have ten minutes until the next deadline is up.”

“Masamune’s team must have engaged them forcing them to accelerate their plans,” said the Andorian and shot the MSD chief a dark scowl. “These people will be on your conscience, Chief, I hope you realize this.” The assumption wasn’t outlandish. Less than a minute earlier they had heard explosions and weapons fire coming from that very floor, as well as telling flashes of light.

But Masamune didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he secured his own binoculars and a small smirk found its way onto his lips when he recognized the person now starting to fall towards them who the Starfleet officers had falsely assumed to be a hostage. From the expression on Mech’s face she appeared to know exactly what she was doing. Or at least hoped that she did.

“What exactly do you find amusing about this situation?” the Andorian asked with indignant befuddlement.

“That’s no hostage,” he said.

“Admiral, that shuttle again,” one of the Starfleet ensigns said and pointed further up towards the building.

Sure enough the emerald-colored SAFVe shot around the corner of the building with what appeared to be a long, unfurled rope dangling from its underside.

Masamune immediately understood what Mech’s plan had been and the smirk quickly disappeared from his face. This had been exactly the kind of thing he had warned her about. But he also understood that if it had come to this, Mech had not seen any other choice.

When he tried to make contact with her, the static which greeted him was nearly overwhelming. <… located in the … primed to go …. less than ten …>, was all that he was able to pick-up. It was enough to make him appreciate the precariousness of the situation.

For the next few seconds everyone watched in captivated silence. It was clear to every bystander by now what the plan of the woman in the red dress had been, the question on everyone’s mind was if it was going to work.

Could the shuttle’s lifeline reach the plummeting woman before she would get intimately acquainted with the solid pavement and consequently turned into mush?

It was going to be a close call and while Mech’s eyes had since made contact with the approaching lifeline, there was nothing else she could do to slow her fall. To her credit she didn’t appear to be concerned about the ground racing up towards her as she kept her eyes trained upwards.

It didn’t look as if she could make it. That rope seemingly too far away to safe her, many in the crowd turned away, unwilling to witness the inevitable.

Masamune didn’t. Instead he noticed that Hot Rod wasn’t prepared to keep this entire operation in the hands of gravity alone. She plunged the SAFVe into a near vertical freefall now and it made the difference.

Mech was a good four stories above ground when she grabbed hold of the rope, more than likely tearing away multiple layers of her skin in the process, and the shuttle immediately pulled back up.

The crowd cheered in jubilation and then in awed surprise when the woman started firing the rifle she had managed to hold on through the entire fall. Her aim was accurate enough to blow out the windows on the third floor of the building and the suddenly taut and upward moving rope had given her the momentum to fly back towards Fed Plaza. She let go of the lifeline and easily sailed back into the building were she promptly disappeared.

Then the crowd loudly reacted to the far less graceful landing of the second body, mercifully dropping out of sight and into a tall and thick arrangement of shrubs and greenery.

Masamune didn’t waste time to appreciate Mech’s amazing acrobatic abilities and instead quickly turned towards Tessier who hadn’t been able to quite come to grips with the death-defying circus moves she had just witnessed. “Admiral, I just had confirmation that there is indeed a bomb in that building. We need to move now to –“

Tessier’s hesitation didn’t last long. “Whren, I want that strike team in there now and get that unauthorized shuttle out of here. I don’t care if you have to shoot it out of the sky.”

Whren hesitated and Masamune took the opportunity. “Selina, listen to me. That’s the wrong move here. My team is likely to have the hostages secured by now. We need to get our shuttles up there and evacuate the building and the immediate surroundings before it is too late.”

But Tessier shot him a venomous look. “You should be lucky I don’t have you arrested for interfering with a presidential order. Your people’s antics are endangering these hostages,” she said and then whirled around to face the Andorian. “Captain, I don’t see you following my orders.”

The man looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “Perhaps we should evacuate and hold off with that strike team to see what –“

“Damnit, this is not the time to lose your head, mister. Follow your orders.”

Decades of military training kicked back in almost instantly. He nodded sharply and relayed the orders to the officers around him.

But Masamune couldn’t stop wonder about the Starfleet captain’s sudden change of heart. He knew from Mech that he was involved somehow in what was going on here and considering Tessier’s reaction he was now more certain than ever that Whren knew more than she did.

Why do you not want to send in the strike team? The answer to that question terrified him.

* * *​

Mech had stuck a graceful landing, rolling on the floor twice to absorb the momentum she had build up and came back up with her rifle ready to blast away any potential terrorists guarding the third floor.

There were none.

She hadn’t really expected anyone, fairly certain after hacking the orchid man that the remaining gunmen were stationed in the buildings main lobby a couple of floors below her.

She knew she had little time but after falling over 700 feet and then being yanked harshly back into the air only to go flying into the building once more, she needed at least a few seconds to collect her strength.

She took a knee, placed the rifle on the floor and then tore away at the hemline of Katanagi’s delicate dress. Then she tied the cloth around her right hand which had been badly torn when she had used it to grasp the rope. And while there wasn’t any blood and the pain was manageable, it was neither pretty nor practical to run around with a ripped open hand.

Moments later she was back on her feet, checking the disruptor rifle over even as she ran towards the main staircase. She found nobody inside.

Mech descended four flights in four leaps to get to the end of the staircase which to her dismay she found only reached as far as the first floor and did not continue down into the basement.

Would have been too easy.

She opened the only door slowly, fully aware that by her best estimates at least two or more terrorists were positioned somewhere on that floor.

After making sure nobody was directly behind the door, she slipped outside and found what looked like the entrance to the basement directly opposite from where she stood. Unfortunately she would have to cross a wide-open space to get to it.

She pushed her back against the wall and then approached the corner to see if anybody was covering the passageway.

Mech peeked around the bend and nearly had her head separated from her shoulders.

She withdrew just in time to avoid being incinerated by a barrage of disruptor fire which practically evaporated an entire chunk of the wall she had used for cover. She had to escape all the way back towards the staircase to avoid being struck by debris which exploded in every direction under the force of the unrelenting disruptor fire.

From the short glimpse she had been able to take in before they had started shooting, she now believed that there were at least five terrorists in the lobby and they had all been waiting for her, most likely following her unconventional shortcut by watching the media coverage.

Mech was stuck. They had her pinned down. There was no way she could get past the five rifles pointed at the corridor to get into the sub-basement and even her aerobatic skills would be of little help, the corridor was simply to wide to attempt a run for it.

Worse, if these terrorists really were on a suicide mission as she assumed they were, all they had to do was to keep her from entering the basement for another few minutes until there was no more chance for her to reach the bomb in time.

As the jammers were back to full effect she couldn’t tell if Tank and the others had been successful in eliminating the opposition on the forty-seventh floor or if they had begun their evacuation yet. For all she knew they needed more time than what was left to them.

And at this moment she was the only person who could provide them with it.

It turned out she had not run out of miracles just yet.

Two explosions rocked the building not quite strong enough for the tri-cobalt planted in the basement and designed to take out Fed Plaza but enough to blow the front and rear entrances to the building. The entire lobby shook and Mech realized that Starfleet was making its move.

Under normal circumstances she would have called that approach careless and amateurish, revealing Starfleet’s inexperience in dealing with a well prepared hostage situation but in this instance it was exactly the distraction she needed.

The terrorists had expected this kind of attack and had fortified their positions sufficiently to hold off the initial assault. Hearing the sound of the members of the Starfleet team being taken out and forced to regroup confirmed Mech’s theory.

But Starfleet’s crude approach notwithstanding, the terrorist had been forced to train their weapons on the new opponent, allowing Mech to make her move.

Without any further hesitation she ran towards the basement entrance, sliding across the slick marble floor of the lobby to keep a low profile and avoid being taken out in the crossfire.

She got back on her feet as soon as she was back behind solid cover and hauled ass.

Already knowing what to expect, she dialed up the power levels of her disruptor rifle to full, then shut down the firing emitter and pulled the trigger. The weapon instantly began to whine and vibrate as it worked itself to an overload.

She slung the rifle across the floor until she saw it hit an invisible barrier which flashed briefly upon impact.

Mech found a niche to hide just before the Romulan rifle ripped itself to shreds in a powerful explosion, taking the force field that was keeping her from the levels down with it. Not a second later and before either terrorist or Starfleet assault team had been any wiser, Mech dove into the sub-basement entrance.

* * *​

 

[Dnoth]

Action-packed, as always. I'm still finding it fun to see how the PD views Starfleet.

 

[CeJay]

Thanks, Dnoth. More action, drama and jurisdictional infighting coming right up.

 

[CeJay]

041 – “All Together Now.”


Gavin Thorgood’s heart had been pounding furiously in his chest in the minutes leading up to their planned assault.

The waiting, he had decided, had been the worst part. Because hours later, when everything was said and done, he had trouble remembering the details of how exactly things had transpired after they had truly begun. The excitement and adrenaline had fused the entire episode into a foggy blur.

The three assault teams positioned in the staircase, by the elevators and in the office hallways right above the reception area had stood ready to await Mech’s signal who had let herself get captured by the terrorists, hoping to be able to pass as an escaped hostage.

She had sold it perfectly and was quickly led back below to be kept with the other captives.

And while Gavin had still been wondering what form exactly the LT’s signal would take, the shooting had already started.

By the time he, Tank and the rest of his team had reached the upper banister and brought their assault rifles to bear, they just caught a glimpse of Mech flying through the air, with one of the terrorists firmly held in a tight leg lock, and right towards the back of the bar.

Together they loudly crashed into the shelf-lined walled filled with bottles and spirits and disappeared behind the counter.

Because of the communications scrambler in effect, there had been no way to communicate with her or with the other teams standings ready to breach the room. Fortunately Mech had caused enough of a ruckus to prompt them into action as well and within moments two explosions ripped away the doors leading to the staircase and the elevators.

“Hostages, lay face down on the floor and cover your heads,” Tank roared beside him and then unleashed short bursts of rapid fire at the hostile forces positioned closest to the hostages.

But Gavin didn’t understand how, he had no clear line of fire on anyone as colorful streamers hanging from the ceiling were obstructing his vision. “I don’t have a visual, I don’t have a visual.”

Tank must have heard the young man’s panic in his voice. “Calm down and use your optical targeting assistance,” he said, just before he squeezed the trigger to take down another enemy.

Gavin mentally berated himself for forgetting this new feature. He had always been slightly uncomfortable with the seemingly magical heads-up display that his enhancers could project right into his vision. It took but one thought to bring it up.

The image was not perfect and in truth he was certain it would give him a headache if he used it for too long. A string of slight static interrupted it once in a while but it did its job. It easily outlined every person below, even if they were concealed behind the streamers. It wasn’t difficult to make out the enemy and he quickly took aim at the ones hefting Romulan-style disruptor rifles.

He didn’t miss the two men trying to round the bar counter to get to Mech who had landed behind it. He already feared that he wouldn’t be fast enough to take them out before they could get a shot off but clearly he hadn’t given his team leader enough credit. Two shots rang out in quick succession and nailed the two terrorists square in the head, sending them flying backwards.

He got the drop on the third man to the scene and practically perforated him before he could open up on Mech.

As arranged earlier, Sylvester had located the main power conduit for the entire floor and shut it down, plunging the entire lobby into darkness.

Gavin and the others had been prepared for his of course, switching their optical targeting enhancers to night vision mode. And while their cybernetic opponents doubtlessly possessed a similar ability, the MSD team took full advantage of the two seconds or so that they needed to adjust.

Gavin thought he could see Mech re-appear from behind the counter, taking down a terrorist by practically leaping on top of him and then heading towards the windows. She moved so fast, it was difficult to even be sure it was her at all.

But Mech was facing too much opposition to rely solely on her team to clear her path. Gavin was concerned that perhaps she had taken on too much as she faced off with multiple hostiles.

He needn’t have worried, he soon realized.

She moved with a grace of a deadly ballet dancer through the rows of armed men who stood between her and those panoramic windows.

And Gavin couldn’t be entirely sure but was she actually singing while she took down one man after the next in a perfect economy of movement?

“What is she doing?” he asked even while he took aim at another terrorist trying to close in from her blind spot and while she dispatched one more hostile by defenestrating him.

Before anyone could provide an answer, she had already leaped out of the building seemingly without giving it a second thought.

“Whatever it is, she’s in a hurry which means we don’t have much time left,” said Tank. “We need to speed things up.”

“What do you suggest we –“

The answer was immediate. Tank simply jumped over the banister and crushed one of the hostiles under his weight before striking out against another, smashing his face with his bare knuckles.

“Right,” said Gavin and continued to provide cover fire from above. He wasn’t certain if Tank’s hands-on approach was really going to get this situation under control sooner but there was no doubt that it made Tank feel a lot better to smash something instead of shooting at it from a distance.

In the end one thing appeared certain. Their multi-pronged assault had been a resounding success as the terrorists had clearly not expected nor had they been prepared for their tactics.

After just a few minutes the thunderous rumble of weapons fire grew silent as it became obvious that the opposition had been neutralized.

Gavin and the rest of his team carefully descended the wide staircase, keeping their rifles up and ready to fire at the slightest bit of movement form the seemingly incapacitated enemy.

Jackson was doing the same, bringing his team in from the staircase while Sylvester headed up a team entering from the blown out turbolift doors.

Tank was standing near the center of the large lobby and littered around him were the bodies of defeated terrorists, most peppered by large bullet holes but a fair number with smashed faces and other equally fatal wounds. In fact Tank was still holding on to one of them, keeping him propped up by the collar of his tattered shirt and hitting him repeatedly in the head even though the much smaller man was clearly long past noticing.

“Hey,” Gavin said as he approached carefully. “I think you got him.”

Tank looked up at him and shot him a perplexed look as if he hadn’t fully understood. He was breathing hard and his hands were coated in a white, oily substance.

Gavin lowered his rifle and gestured towards the man in Tank’s grasp. “I think we’ve got’em all.”

It took Tank another second or so to finally get on the same page before he let go, allowing the destroyed man to drop onto the floor like a lifeless puppet. “Yeah,” he said and looked over his handiwork. “They’re all goddamned androids, every last one of ‘em.”

Gavin looked relieved to hear that. He had never killed a man before and was glad that the streak had not come to an end that night.

“We need to get these people out of here and we have a few wounded as well,” said Jackson Slade, quickly adopting the mantle of leadership again which he had only recently and reluctantly given up. “And quickly. We don’t know how much time we’ve got left. If Mech fails –“

“She’ll come through,” Tank barked sharply.

“I’m not willing to take that risk,” he responded, his tone equally firm. Then he indicated to some of the team members. “Get ready to move. Injured and hostages first,” he said before he turned to Gavin. “Comms are still down so try find a way to get Hot Rods’ attention. I doubt we have the time to trek everyone back up to the roof.”

The young MSD agent nodded and headed for the blown out windows, hoping he could find and make contact with their shuttle pilot the old fashioned way.

“Tank, I need you to –“

“Hold that thought,” said Tank, heading out and then sprinting up the staircase before he had even finished his sentence, leaving Jackson Slade to curse him under his breath.

Tank couldn’t have cared less and within moments he was back on the upper floor, making his way down the hallway until he reached a familiar door. He slid it open and quickly entered. Later on he wouldn’t be able to recall what had gotten into him that he had shown such urgency to come back to this place, for now all he knew was that he wanted Kara Katanagi safe.

But before he could even call out her name, he spotted sudden movement from the corner of his eye.

The baseball bat hit him right in the side of his head and he actually shook upon impact like a huge tree caught in a strong wind.

Then he turned slowly to see Kara Katanagi with the now cracked, wooden bat in hand, starring at him with a guilty expression on her face. She didn’t speak right away and neither did he as they simply looked at each other, neither one quite able to believe what had just happened.

“That was a pretty good swing,” he finally said.

“Baseball’s big on Nyuchiba.”

He nodded. “That explains it.”

She considered the destroyed bat for a moment and then threw it away. “Is it over?” she asked. “I heard all that horrible shooting.”

“It’s over,” he said, apparently perfectly willing to move on. “Come on, we’re getting everyone out of here.”

“Thank God,” she said and then quickly followed him out of her office.

“By the way,” she said once they were in the hallway, heading back towards the lobby. “Sorry about that thing with the bat.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I probably deserved that.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled under her breath. The smirk on her face showed that she didn’t really mean that. Sure, they had not gotten off to a great start but clearly Tank had grown on Kara and not just because he had been instrumental in saving her life.

By the time they got back to the lobby Gavin had been successful in waving in Hot Rod and the SAFVe was hovering just a few feet from the large window which Mech had so unceremoniously destroyed earlier. The MSD agents had cleared the area of remaining shards and now helped a number of still dazed and scared hostages onto the shuttle. Not an easy task considering that the wind kept rocking the SAFVe back and forth and the gap between the shuttle and the building was still significant enough to make some hostages think twice about attempting this daring escape.

As time was of the essence, Jackson had decided not to try a more convenient evacuation route. Instead he had his team practically push those hostages out of the building were they could be grabbed by the men on the shuttle and pull them in.

Tank indicated towards the line that had been formed by the window. “I want you on that shuttle now.”

His harsh tone not withstanding, she looked genuinely touched by his concern. “Doesn’t look like you’re going to have room for everybody on there.”

She was right. The SAFVe had not been designed as a troop transport and was quickly filling up to capacity before even a third of the hostages had made it on board.

Gavin noticed as well. “We need some help,” he said. “If we do this on our own we might be here all night. Don’t think we have that kind of time.”

“Starfleet has shuttles in the area. We need to find a way to get their attention,” said Slade.

It turned out he needn’t have bothered. At least two white-painted Starfleet vessels were already approaching fast.

Gavin shook his head. “I’m not sure they’re here to help.”

Something that became obvious when the two shuttles opened fire.

“Get back, get down,” Jackson yelled and grabbed a short man who had just attempted to jump into the SAFVe and pulled him back into the building.

The other operatives quickly followed.

The phaser beams hit the SAFVe and the windowpanes on the floor directly above them, raining down shards of transparent aluminum onto the CCiD team and the panicking hostages.

Hot Rod had no choice but to disengage, trying to evade the incoming fire. Gavin was certain he could hear the Jamaican pilot cursing as the packed shuttle pulled away from the window.

“What in the goddamn blazes are these idiots doing?” roared Tank whose first instinct had been to push Kara down onto the floor.

* * *​

[continued]

 

[CeJay]

“What in the blazes are these idiots doing?”

Masamune wasn’t a man known to lose his temper but once he had caught sight of the two Starfleet shuttles opening fire on his SAFVe, he completely lost it. He was so furious, his entire body appeared to be trembling as he held his cane so tightly his knuckles were turning as white as its ivory handle.

“Don’t worry, they have been ordered to set their phasers on the lowest setting,” said Whren in a dismissive tone as he was relying orders to his pilots.

“You moron,” said Masamune. “Can’t you see they are trying to evacuate the building? You are putting the lives of those hostages and of my own team at risk. Have those shuttles disengage now.”

That tone apparently didn’t go over well with the Andorian who turned to face the MSD chief with an angry look in his eyes. “You don’t give any order around here. This is a Starfleet operation which your team is blatantly interfering with.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass whose mission this is,” Masamune shot back. “We are all on the same side here. We are all trying to get this situation resolved with the least number of casualties. This is not about whose in charge but about saving those people. I am starting to wonder if perhaps you have a different motive here altogether.”

The blue-skinned captain bared his teeth and his antennae tenses visibly. “I don’t care for your implications, mister. In fact I’m mightily tempted to have you removed and arrested for you continuous interference.”

But the MSD chief simply dismissed the man, realizing that he was only wasting his time with the stubborn Andorian. “Selina, for the love of God, put a stop to this before it’s too late.”

The admiral had apparently been happy to oversee the spat between the two men quietly as she stood a few feet away and monitoring the various screens in the runabout’s command center. With her arms crossed in front of her chest, she slowly shook her head. “The Captain’s right, Tessho. You’re people should disengage and let us do our job. There are too many people here working at cross purposes.”

Masamune suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. As far as he was concerned the reason for their uncoordinated efforts was obvious. Starfleet. Then he pointed at a screen which was showing the FNS live broadcast. The sound was muted but the images spoke volumes. Two Starfleet shuttles were firing upon his SAFVe while the caption read: Starfleet battles with local law enforcement?

“Tell me is this the message you want to send to these terrorists? To the people all over the Federation?”

Selina Tessier’s eyes grew wider, clearly not having noticed the public relations implications yet. “Damn it,” she fumed. “Captain have those shuttles disengage.”

“But sir –“

“Do it now.”

He nodded and relayed the orders.

“Selina, we need your shuttles to help with –“

But she cut him off. “That’s Admiral to you,” she barked, apparently still fazed from the debacle playing out on the live broadcasts. “And I don’t want to hear another word from you or I’ll make good on Whren’s threat,” she said and then turned to one of her other officers. “What’s the status on our assault teams?”

“We’ve taken some casualties,” the young ensign reported, “but the main team has entered the staircase and should reach the 74th floor in less than five minutes.”

Masamune wasn’t easily intimidated and in order to get the admiral’s attention, harshly stomped his cane against the deck plates. “We don’t have time to wait that long. That bomb could go of at any moment.”

“Yes, that bomb again. I’m not convinced at all of this theory of yours,” she said.

But Masamune wasn’t listing. At least not to her. Instead it looked as if he was trying to concentrate on something unseen. Then he reached into the pocket of his long coat and produced a data port. He unceremoniously pushed an ensign away from his station and got to work at the console.

“Hey, you can’t do that,” the ensign tried to protest.

But by that time he had already fixed the data port to the console and just as a couple of security officers were making their way over to apprehended the MSD chief, a female voice filled the command center.

“… disabled the communications jammer. Cracking the transporter scrambler is going to be a lot tougher and I’m not going to be able to do that with the time we have left. The bombs are about two minutes away from turning this building into rubble. I don’t think I have enough time to shut it down but I may be able to find a way to buy us some more,” said Mech’s disembodied voice.

It had stopped everyone in their tracks as they listened to her appraisal of the situation.

“Mech, what are the chances you can do that?” Masamune could have used his internal comms to speak to her but this time he wanted the audience. He needed to make them understand the seriousness of their predicament.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I have been able to interface with the controls but there are more firewalls here than stars in the sky.”

Masamune looked towards Tessier who was listening carefully but kept her expressions neutral and difficult to read. “If you don’t think you can do anything, I want you to come out now. There is no point in sacrificing yourself for nothing.”

“Are the hostages clear?”

Masamune didn’t answer which of course was an answer in itself.

“LT, this is Tank. We still have people in the building but if Starfleet would get their collective fingers out of their ass and help us get on with the evacuation instead of trying to have us all incinerated, we might be able to clear the building in time.”

The MSD chief shot a telling look at the admiral. A look that seemed to say: This is what’s going on and you and your thick head are the reason everybody may end up dead. And oh yes, I am recording all this for posterity.

Support came from another and much more unexpected source. General Schneider form the UEDA who had mostly watched this drama unfold quietly since Starfleet had taken operational command now stepped up. “We already have four city blocks in each direction cleared and evacuated,” he said.

Masamune aimed a surprised look at the military commander.

“Seemed to be a wise precaution once you mentioned a bomb,” he said. “I have a number of shuttles standing by,” he added and then looked at the Starfleet flag officer. “But yours are closer, Admiral.”

One could accuse Admiral Tessier of many things, including being a stubbornly bad team player. But she wasn’t one to hesitate once she realized that she had been wrong. Now faced with the possibility that this entire operation could fail in the most catastrophic way imaginable because of her reluctance to listen to Masamune, she took prompt action. “Captain, have those shuttles head back up to the 74th floor and assist MSD with the evacuation. Ensign, give the assault team a new objective. I want those transporter scramblers found and deactivated yesterday.”

“About time somebody got their act together out there,” said Tank in his characteristically undiplomatic tone after overhearing the conversation in the command center. “LT, bail out now. We’re gonna get these folks out of here in a jiffy.”

“Even with Starfleet’s help you’re not going to have enough time. I’m going to try and get you some more by hacking this thing. Chief, tell Bobbie to make sure the switch is in place in case I need it.”

Masamune frowned noticeably at this. “You’ve never been able to test it. As far as I’m concerned the whole thing is still mostly theoretical.”

“No time to argue. I’m going to try and –“

The roar of an explosion drowned out her voice.

“Mech? Come in, Mech, can you hear me?” Masamune said, his voice betraying his sudden concern for his operative.

But the line had gone completely dead.

* * *​