Re: Chapter Four
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USS Cuffe
(Observation Lounge)
“Sirs, I think this is a suicide mission,” Lt. Seb N’Saba harrumphed, his blue ocular implants giving the lupine Alshain Science Officer even more of an otherworldly appearance. “We don’t even know if anyone is still alive. Is it worth it to risk this ship to pursue ghosts?”
“Suicide is perhaps too strong a word,” Commander Kojo replied. The woman’s smooth sepia skin was accentuated by Trill-like dots that covered the sides of her face, disappearing underneath her mop of platinum blonde hair.
Lt. Commander Rojas had often asked Glover if he knew if the spots covered Kojo’s whole body, but the engineer had never taken up Terrence’s challenge to ask the First Officer. Kojo was a tough customer. The captain had met her during orientation for the Officer Exchange Program. Glover had been sent to a Klingon ship and Kojo had actually spent time on a Tholian vessel.
The woman had spent almost a year stuck in an enviro-suit aboard a nova hot Tholian starship, surrounded by suspicious and hostile crewmembers. Despite Kojo’s excellent service, the Tholians had withdrawn from the program after Kojo returned to the Federation.
During his interview of Kojo for the XO position, he had asked her why she thought the Tholians had decided to leave the program. She had told him that the Tholians saw that maybe the Federation wasn’t as weak as they thought, and it had disturbed them. Glover wasn’t sure if that was the whole story, but none of his contacts at HQ had contradicted Kojo or the after-service report. Also, Glover could personally attest to the woman’s steeliness.
“I don’t think there is anything suicidal about this mission,” the Kriosian continued. “Foolish perhaps, but not suicidal…my apologies Admiral.”
“No need to apologize,” Samson looked at Terrence. The captain nodded, but remained silent. The admiral continued. “What I appreciate is honesty.”
“Great,” Pedro said cheerfully. The pudgy engineer always saw the brightness in any situation. “All we’re doing is a glorified fly-by of a few planets, and then we’re back across the Neutral Zone safe and sound.”
“It’s not quite so facile,” Lt. Meldin, the Security Chief replied crisply. The aquamarine colored Benzite leaned forward in his seat. “We would be violating the Treaty of Algeron for starters. Plus, we don’t have any knowledge of Romulan patrol routes. We are bound to run into a scout ship, Bird-of-Prey, or worse, and that could result in our captures, deaths, or interstellar war.”
“Actually, we do,” Glover said. He tapped the PADD resting in front of him. A starmap appeared on the small screen in the alcove behind Terrence’s seat. He turned around, gasping at the detailed map. Highlighted in green were bold loops around various planets and star systems. The map was dotted with the avian symbol of the Romulan Star Empire. “Each symbol is a patrol craft,” the admiral said for clarification. “This was the standard patrol pattern as of two weeks ago.”
“Where-how-did you acquire this?” He asked his father.
“From my contact behind the curtain,” the admiral said mysteriously. “That’s one of the people I’m trying to save.”
“Who is this person?” Glover turned back around to look at his father. Samson smiled.
“She’s an old friend.” He tapped another button. The map disappeared. The image of a raven haired, stately Vulcan female appeared. “Her name is T’Prell, of Vulcan.” With another click, the image changed slightly. Ridges now appeared over the woman’s brow, sharpening her features, making them more distinctly Romulan. “For the last ten years she has been on deep cover assignment inside Romulan space for the V’Shar. She disguised herself as a Romulan and infiltrated the Romulan bureaucracy, where she could best supply the Federation with information.”
“On Stardate 48734.5, DS9 supplied information, later corroborated by T’Prell, that a joint Tal Shiar and Obsidian Order fleet conducted a preemptive strike against the Dominion in the Omarion Nebula. It did not go well obviously. The combined fleet was wiped out.” The admiral paused, when Pedro whistled.
“Wow,” the engineer remarked. “How many casualties?”
“She wasn’t able to supply us with that information,” Samson said glumly. “However, the disaster reverberated almost immediately on Romulus. Elements among the military, Senate, and bureaucracy rushed in to claim the remains of the reeling Tal Shiar. With the secret police agency on the ropes, the dissident movement led by Ambassador Spock also swelled. In one of T’Prell’s last communiqués, she speculated that more Romulan citizens were demanding reform, and that even mass protests had been attempted for the first time in centuries.”
“Fascinating,” N’Saba breathed. It was one of the few times Glover had ever seen the Alshain impressed. “I thought the Romulan state was a totalist regime.”
“It was,” Samson said. “Or it attempted to be. There had always been a place for limited debate and discussion in Romulan society, before the advent of the Tal Shiar. In their quest to preserve the Romulan way, they have made a lot of enemies.”
“And these enemies are now gunning for them,” Glover finally spoke.
The admiral nodded. “Yes, and Praetor Javel not being so beholden to the Tal Shiar, it’s quite possible that the agency has seen its last days.”
“That would be a good thing,” Jasmine, sitting beside the admiral, said quietly.
“Don’t count them out just yet,” Samson remarked. “Desperate to reestablish themselves, the Tal Shiar have began a series of witch hunts and purges. They need the people to fear them again. From what we gather, Javel continues to give them a free reign because his enemies are often the targets of the Tal Shiar’s state terror. Among the most prominent targets are Senator Telaan and her family. Telaan’s influence was so great in the Empire that even the defection of her husband Flavius and two other high-ranking Romulan officials on Stardate 46519.0 kept her family from the executioner.”
“So, why did her fortunes turn?” Operations Officer Amanisha Bheto asked. The demure Andorian had sat quietly throughout the whole exchange, taking in the entire conversation. Though Glover was more comfortable with rough and tumble debate, over the months he had learned to respect Bheto’s quieter, more introspective approach.
“I’m not certain,” Samson said. “But once Telaan and her family were arrested, and publicly charged with treason, our defectors refused to cooperate until they were rescued. Starfleet Intelligence and the V’Shar put together a joint mission.”
Samson tapped another button. The screen split, and the two halves were filled with different images. On the right was an older Romulan, with slivers of gray in his black hair. On the left was a younger man. His brow line was much more delicate.
“On the right is Ousanas Dar, a V’Shar agent,” Samson said tightly. Glover’s eyes flashed with recognition. He had heard the name before but never met the man. He glanced at his father, but the man’s expression was closed. “On the left is Lt. Commander So’Dan Leva, Tactical Officer on the USS Eagle.”
“There are Romulans in Starfleet?” Dr. Nemato, the Antosian Chief Medical Officer asked. The centipede-like medic was curled around his seat.
“Yeah,” Pedro shrugged. “I guess you didn’t get the memo, or checked FNS in the last decade or so. Leva’s been in the Fleet for quite some time.”
“You know him?” Glover asked.
“No,” Rojas replied. “Just heard about him. His entrance into the Academy caused something of a stir.” Terrence nodded, a niggling memory clawing its way to the forefront.
“Yes, I do remember a little something about that.” The Captain remarked. “And since we haven’t heard much else about him is that a good thing or bad?” He looked at his father.
“Leva’s had a pretty good run so far. SI wouldn’t have chosen him for the mission if he was questionable.”
“And what was the mission exactly sir?” Kojo asked, her voice milder.
“T’Prell had contact with some more radical elements of the Romulan underground. They were to help extract Flavius’s family and rendezvous with Dar and Leva. Dar and Leva would bring Flavius’s family to the Federation. Not only was it a good thing to do, it would keep our information pipeline going and poke another finger in the Tal Shiar’s eye.”
“So, what went wrong?” Glover grimly asked.
“I’m not quite sure,” Samson replied, a weathered expression wreathing his face. “Dar and Leva were supposed to be picked up by the Starship Lacaille. However, a cloaked Romulan warbird was waiting for the Lacaille instead.”
“What happened?” Dr. Nemato asked with dread. Both the admiral and Jasmine’s faces hardened. Glover knew the answer before his father replied.
“The Lacaille was destroyed. To our knowledge, with all hands aboard.”
“Oh,” was all Nemato could say. A pall hung over the proceedings for almost a minute as each crewmember grappled with the lost of a fellow starship and its crew, and of the possibility that they might be heading towards the same end.
After Glover felt enough time had passed to mourn, pray, or otherwise respect the passing of the Lacaille, he said tightly, “Admiral, Lt. Mendes, and crew, I think we owe it to the Lacaille to complete their mission. And come hell or high water, we will.”
****
