Gravity - Chapter 3, Part 1
Chapter 3
Ferengi brigand ship Prince of Profit
The search for the Romulan scout ship had taken longer than expected, but the ensuing battle, if it could be called that, was mercifully brief. The scout had been built with stealth and reconnaissance in mind, not combat. The ship was quickly overwhelmed by the far superior firepower of the D'Kora-class marauder.
DaiMon Junt sat comfortably in his quarters as two of his hired hands dragged the semi-conscious Romulan officer into the compartment. Rather than the typical broad-shouldered and severe looking Romulan military uniform, the man was clad in a utilitarian jumpsuit, his rank insignia worn sloppily as if by afterthought. They left him facedown on the expensively plush Denobulan carpet as Junt looked on, drink in hand. He dismissed the mercenaries with a wave and then busied himself with sharpening his teeth until the Romulan came to. Finally, there was movement from the man.
"You've looked better, Trivius"
The Romulan's response was a low moan, followed by a coughing fit as he tried unsuccessfully to inhale the thick weave of shag beneath his face.
"You didn't exactly make it easy for us to find you." There was an edge to Junt's voice, the merest hint of irritation. "I call, you answer. That was our arrangement. When you don't answer, it makes me... cranky."
Sub-Commander Trivius climbed to his feet slowly, one hand held to his aching head. He staggered over to support himself on a set of ornate cabinets fashioned from extinct dotha-wood that ran along the bulkhead. He fumbled for a decanter of Saurian brandy and poured a shaky glass full of the bracing spirit. His first draught brought on another coughing fit that finally ceased as Trivius lowered himself into a chair across from Junt. "You might have exercised some patience..." he muttered hoarsely.
"I didn't have time to go through the usual song and dance, Sub-Commander. I know you intelligence types love your traditional signs and counter-signs, your delicate little ballets of secrecy, but in my universe time is latinum." Junt looked down and blew across a freshly painted fingernail. "What have you heard?"
Trivius waved his hand in the air and gestured to their surroundings. "All this... this mess, this will cost extra. How am I supposed to explain this to my crew, to my superiors?"
Junt smiled toothily, "Tell them you were hunted down and captured by one of the foremost privateers in the quadrant. It's a bit dramatic, I'll admit, but it has the benefit of being the truth. I might even give you a portion of whatever ransom the Romulan government chooses to pay for your return."
"You've killed me, Junt. That's what you've done. You might as well have simply blown me out your airlock." Trivius took another drink, grimaced, and glowered at the DaiMon. "Captured by a Ferengi? My career is over and my life is forfeit."
Junt appeared unmoved. "That's your problem, Trivius, not mine. Would you prefer your superiors discovered that you've been funneling classified information to me for over a year?"
Trivius' face darkened, "Not Romulan secrets, Junt. Federation and Tzenkethi intelligence only, I'm no traitor."
Junt conceded the point, "Perhaps not, but your indiscretions are enough to warrant a death sentence, should they become known to your government."
Trivius brooded in sullen silence as Junt stood and walked around the exquisitely decorated stateroom. The Ferengi motioned to the luxury on display, "Does none of this appeal to you, Romulan? If you brought your talents to my employ, you could live like a king. Instead, you spend your days inside a cramped scout ship, toiling over sensor returns and snippets of decoded secrets. And for what? The greater glory of the Romulan Star Empire?"
The Ferengi refilled his glass at the cabinets. "We both know your precious empire is on its last legs. You can either sink into chaos with your countrymen or stay ahead of the curve by putting your skills to better use."
As he threw back the rest of his brandy, Trivius sneered, "You speak out of turn, Junt. The empire is forever."
Junt turned back to face him; amusement creased his features. "Of course it is. That's why the Romulan government is turning over the Cardassian territory they captured in the war to the Federation and the Klingons. Handing it over, Trivius. Territory purchased with Romulan blood and treasure, and you're simply surrendering it without firing a shot. That's shocking. It's unprecedented."
Trivius flushed an ever deeper shade of green. "We haven't the resources to fight a protracted war with Cardassian insurgents. Let the Federation and their misbegotten Klingon lackeys suffer those losses."
"If that were the whole issue, I might agree with you." Junt returned to his seat. "However, you and I both know that your government is crumbling as we speak. Certainly, there are a handful of powerful people holding the empire together by their fingernails, but your economy is collapsing, and your subsidized social welfare system for your planet's teeming billions is coming apart at the seams. What happens when the food riots start, eh? Will you send Reman shock troops to pacify your own citizens?"
The Romulan stared into his empty glass and said nothing.
Junt leaned forward, “You can have more, Trivius, you can be more. The empire will fall, almost nothing could stop that now, but you need not tumble into the abyss along with it. I can get your family out of Romulan territory before the Imperial Navy even realizes your ship has gone missing.” Junt’s gaze was steady, so unlike the darting, evasive nature of most Ferengi. “Join me,” he offered.
The other man’s distant gaze appeared to suggest that he was looking into that yawning chasm even now. “No,” he whispered finally. “I may be opportunistic, but I am still Romulan. Come what may, I will face the same fate as my brothers and sisters back home.”
Junt nodded once, decisively. “Very well. Tell me then, what have you found out about Aldo Ramirez and his new device?”
*****
Hades' Apex Station, in orbit of Planet Acheron
Barisa System
A phalanx of security personnel pressed through the surly crowd of workers and formed a barrier between the mob and the lone figure of Aldo Ramirez. The main concourse was effectively shut down, as the gathering of company employees had choked the mall area.
Ramirez and his retinue pushed their way into the offices of the Jovian Miner's Guild, the union to which most of the company's employees belonged. Awaiting him were lead union representative Johannes Kubler and a host of men Ramirez regarded as little more than obsequious functionaries.
Kubler was already red-faced and his agitation was evident. Ramirez set a padd atop the table in front of the man and slid it towards him, "This is all we have on the incident."
Spittle flew as Kubler snarled in reply, "This incident, Aldo! This is the fourth disappearance of company personnel in three weeks!"
"I'm well aware of that, Johan" Ramirez answered patiently and refused to be goaded.
"What the hell are you doing about it?" Kubler appeared on the cusp of an apoplectic fit.
Ramirez's unflappable demeanor seemed to press even more of the union man's buttons as he replied quietly, "Ever resource the company can bring to bear is being focused on this. I've even asked the local authorities on the Federation colony for help. They're sending a investigations team out later today to gather forensic data on these... phenomena."
"Every resource?" Kubler's voice was drenched in incredulity. "You've just pulled another engineering support team off the line and reassigned them to your particle fountain. The rest of the mining operation is grinding to a halt because of these vanishings, but by God you'll keep that fountain rig fully staffed, eh?"
Ramirez shook his head slightly and evidenced grim amusement, "The fountain rig is going to save this company, and your precious jobs, Johan. If we can't bring it online as soon as possible, this whole company goes under. Would you prefer that?"
Kubler's only response was a baleful glare.
Ramirez continued, "Or perhaps you'd like working for the Chrysalians better? How generous do you think their employee compensation packages would be? Or better yet, the Orions? When they break union strikes, people just up and van--" he tried to catch the errant expression in time, but it was too late.
"Vanish?" Kubler finished for him. The union rep's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled in to a humorless smile. "Yes, imagine that. People disappearing without a trace just weeks before contract negotiations begin. Shocking, that."
Ramirez, now on the defensive, closed his eyes briefly. "That was a poor choice of words on my part. We're doing everything we can here, Johan, but I need the guild's cooperation on this. If we're exhausting our resources scheming to outmaneuver one another, we'll never get to the bottom of all this."
Kubler leaned forward and raised a hand that hushed the flurry of conversation from the union leaders behind him. "Unless 'all this' has been arranged intentionally to throw the Miner's Guild off balance prior to negotiations."
The bald-faced accusation was so incendiary that it silenced the entire room as if the atmosphere had been sucked out. Ramirez blinked, and though he appeared outwardly shocked, he was secretly relieved that Kubler's return salvo had just undermined any momentum he'd gained from Aldo's earlier misstep about the vanishings. He chose his next words carefully, "I trust the other union representatives will be more balanced in their outlook?" Without awaiting a reply, Ramirez turned his back on Kubler, "I'll keep in contact as to what the forensics team discovers."
*****
USS Gibraltar
He had awoke with a start in the middle of the night.
It was time. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did just the same. There was no rhyme or reason as to the schedule of things. The reckoning was at hand, and he would find no peace until he had crossed this final bridge. It had been a long time coming.
"Company... dismissed." He had given the order quietly, so as not to upset the reverent atmosphere in the cargo bay. The two security personnel on duty about-faced smartly and marched out the exit in unison.
Sandhurst was left alone with Ramirez's casket.
He regarded the torpedo casing for a long moment before he finally spoke. "I've been avoiding this for weeks, Liana, but it's got to the point where I have to clear my conscience."
Sandhurst walked a slow circuit around the casket, his hands clasped behind his back. "I don't know that I'll ever be completely free of what happened at Velkohn, I but I needed you to know I'd reached some conclusions on that score.
"I've had a lot of experts crawling around in my head this past year, so many so that I sometimes have trouble telling where they end and I begin. Be that as it may, I've come to the difficult realization that despite everything I've been through lately, I'm still the same person inside. I was worried for awhile that I'd been changed irreversibly by all that's happened, but things are clearer now. "
He stopped and stared at the flag draped coffin. Moved by a sudden impulse, Sandhurst stepped forward and placed a hand atop one end of the casing. "I sent you down to Velkohn, Liana. Not just the me that the Baron twisted, not just the me that was still brooding over Lakesh, and not just the me that's been angry at Pava for being a blunt instrument that I'd helped to forge. It was the Donald Sandhurst from before the war, before Gibraltar, and before you. The immutable me at my center.
"Had we been aboard the Venture, or the Chevalier, or the Cuffe I'd have sent you down there all the same. The mission was too important to ignore. Pell was wrong about that, and so were you. It was my call to make, and I made it." He had worried about maintaining his composure on the walk from the turbolift, but now Sandhurst found his eyes were clear and his voice steady.
"I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry your life and career were cut short, and I know you'd have made a phenomenal captain. But... if I had to do it all over again, knowing what I know now, I'd send you anyway. It's the price of the uniform, Liana. We've all been sent into harm's way more times than we can count, and not all of us come back. We both knew and accepted that fact when we took our oaths."
He moved back a pace and brought himself to attention. "It was an honor to command you and serve along side you, Captain Ramirez. I owe you my life as well as my sanity, and I know that you wouldn't want me to squander either of those in recriminations about the past. God speed."
The doors parted and Sandhurst stepped through into the corridor. He inclined his head towards the honor guard members who now stood watch on either side of the hatch. "Thank you, gentlemen. You may resume your post." His stride down the corridor was strong and purposeful, as if the weight of the universe had just been lifted from his shoulders.
*****
Yep, she's gonna have loads of fun as the new XO! I can hardly wait!
<-- (He's laughing too--only because he doesn't know what's about to hit him. 
)
