08? ...What happened to 07? Well, I'm kinda cheating. I wrote a script for 07, "The Toltec", ya know, the story I keep on putting off? Well, I'm skipping it again. I really wanted to jump ahead a little to the late summer/early fall 2376 timeframe. I might very likely post "The Toltec," but I don't know when. Six months have passed since "Crimes and Shadows." I hope there isn't too dramatic a change for the reader. This story is more of a collaboration with DarKush and I thank him for the use of his character, Ivan Cherenkov.
PROLOGE Stardate: 53703.8 (14 Sep 2376) Federation Merchant Ship, SS Ethiopia Sappora Star System, In Orbit of the Independent Planet New Sydney “We’ve been boarded!” screamed one of the Listeners. His voice could barely be heard over the klaxons and phaser fire. Michael Hall saw the man in a junction down the corridor. His thoughts turned to his duty. He had to get Uhura out of there. For several years he had worked with the admiral when she was in charge of Starfleet Intelligence. She hand-picked promising officers to become her “Listeners,” an elite group of spies; he was lucky enough to be one of them. Nyota engendered a rare type of loyalty. An entire generation of SI personnel came to see her as their grandmother and mentor rolled into one. After she retired in 2361, he and several others, continued to serve her. Mike mused to himself. Retired, yeah right. Uhura didn’t understand the concept. ‘Retirement’ merely meant, she wasn’t taking orders from Command anymore. Hall found himself in Nyota’s quarters, though he didn’t remember the trip getting there. The woman’s dark skin was crisp like rice paper. Her body no longer reflected her mind. A frail façade hid a formidable, yet tranquil woman. Her thin, white hair bobbed slightly as she turned from a monitor. Michael reached out for her fragile arm, “Nyota, we have to get you out of here!” She looked up with calm eyes, “Let’s go.” Uhura moved well for a human of 137 years. As they reached the threshold, he paused just long enough to hear the sounds of battle down the corridor. Michael ushered the elderly woman as fast as her body would allow. A deathly howl forced the duo to look back. Both knew what it signified. Without a word, they speed up their pace. The transporter room seemed like an oasis. Hall immediately darted for the controls as Uhura stepped onto the dais. “I don’t see why you had to come here in the first place, Nyota,” complained Mike as he manipulated the controls. He was hesitant about starting a conversation. They had half a minute, at best. Nyota knew it was a comment born of frustration, but answered it anyway, “My contacts here won’t talk to anyone else. The details I got about the assassination plan will save Satie’s life.” She added with a mild sarcasm, “Assuming we can get it to her in time.” Hall had never figured out how she could joke in situations like this, “Doing my best,” he rejoined without looking up. “I’m more concerned about protecting you,” he continued. “Such a nice man,” bantered Uhura. The comment was well received. Unfortunately, Mike didn’t have time to smile. “I’m beaming you near a safe house on the surface. They won’t be able to find you.” “I’ve heard that before.” “I’m sorry we’ve failed you, Uhura,” said Hall, with remorse on his face. The retired admiral tilted her head. Her voice was that of a grandma, “You’ve done nothing of the sort. The fight continues.” Michael broke into a small grin as he slid the energizer. Nyota faded away in a flurry of light. Hall took a deep breath, secure in the fact that he had done all he could. What happened now didn’t matter. He waited several seconds for the inevitable. He was comforted as he thought of what his last words would be. The hatch parted. A small group of Starfleet security personnel wearing tactical garb pinned him to the bulkhead with brutal swiftness. He had at least three phaser rifles pointed at his head. Mike didn’t struggle. He already knew his fate. One of the attackers checked the transporter logs. A human male commander slowly strode in the room. He had a chiseled face. His eyes were as cold as a shark’s. Short, black hair topped his head. The man glanced at the officer going over the logs. “Sir,” reported the security officer, “he routed the signal through several relays and scrambled it. There is no way to tell where she transported to.” “Very well,” said the obvious leader of the assault team. The commander nodded at another officer who was now holding Hall. Immediately, the security officer pulled Mike’s right arm over his shoulder and yanked down hard. The sound of gristle snapping and bone cracking filled the room. Hall screamed in agony as his arm made an unnatural shape. The officer let go, allowing Michael to examine the malformed appendage as he cried out. The commander then walked up and grabbed Mike by the jaw with substantial force. “Stop screaming,” said the man in a dispassionate tone. Surprisingly, Hall did. He was ashamed of his lack of dignity in the face of torture. “That’s better,” began the man in a viciously, methodical voice, “I’m Commander Collins. Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions.” In all his years in SI, Michael had never been face to face with someone as cold and collected during an interrogation as the man before him. Collins proceeded, “Where did the old woman transport to and what does she know?” Mike was proud when he managed, “Do you know what you’re doing to the Federation?” Without any hint of agitation, Collins raised his foot and crashed his boot into the side of Hall’s left knee. His body fell as fragments of his tibia jetted out of his leg. Before he could reach the deck, the commander grabbed him and propped him up against the bulkhead. Mike’s mouth was quivering in pain, but the scream was restrained this time. Holding Hall by the shirt, Collins leaned in, and said calmly, “You’re in no position to question me.” Michael now welcomed the end. He tried to stand on his uninjured leg, but the floor was slippery with his blood. “My answer to both questions is: go to hell.” Collins actually grinned and nodded. He whispered into Mike’s ear, “I want you to know, my respect for you just went up.” He then backed away and gave a palm strike to Hall’s nose, forcing it into his brain cavity with a crackle. Michael’s lifeless body lingered for a moment before it slid to the deck. Now uninterested in the corpse, Commander Collins tapped the communicator on his tactical vest, “Away team to Captain Russell.” ***** The bridge was filled with red alert lighting. Captain Russell stood vigil in the center of the room. “This is Russell, report.” “We’ve secured the ship, but the main target transported away.” Russell looked over to his advisor. The stocky Andorian woman wore a slick, black suit. She looked none too pleased at the news. “Beamed to where?” followed up the captain. The Security Chief responded, “There’s no way to tell, the signal was routed through several orbital relays.” The Andorian simply folded her arms as she huffed. “Any recommendations, Agent Visala?” offered the captain. He used the word, ‘recommendation,’ but Russell knew who was in charge of the bridge. It wasn’t him. Visala snapped as she addressed the ceiling, “Commander Collins, get a fighter, go to the surface and begin hunting her.” “Understood.” “But he doesn’t even know where to start?” interjected Russell. The agent had little patience for explaining herself, “Collins has considerable skills. It’s why he was recruited for this assignment.” Her arms still crossed, she said, “Recall your team and destroy the ship.” Russell nodded, “Away team, beam back over with any prisoners you may have and…” “No,” said Visala. She looked at him as if disciplining a child, “I said recall your team.” Slowly, the captain understood the impact of her command, “You want me to kill Federation citizens?” “Not citizens,” countered Visala, “dissidents.” Until that point, Dalton Russell could pretend the people who approached him for this command had the best interests of the Federation at heart. What had he gotten himself into? He knew his face betrayed his doubts. The agent clasped her hands behind her back as she approached Russell. “Carry out your orders.” She stood on her tip toes so her mouth could reach his ear, “Unless, of course, you want everyone to know you raped that man.” The captain visibly gulped and his eyes glossed over with fear. In a raised voice he ordered, “Away team, come home on the double. Leave the prisoners on their ship.” “Aye, sir.” “Should …um, we stay in orbit?” fumbled Russell. The grinning Andorian replied, “No, Collins will do his work here, but we need to patrol the route between New Sydney and the Saurian system, so we can intercept any messages… or messengers.” ***** The simply designed SS Ethiopia hung silently in space. A ball of white and blue light came hurtling toward it. The quantum torpedo easily ripped into the hull of the civilian freighter. A few secondary explosions later, there was nothing but debris. In its wake, the majesty of a Sovereign-class ship appeared. On its hull, it read: USS Philadelphia.
That last line was nice--with only a few words, you managed to paint a vivid--and scary picture. When Visala used the word 'dissidents' to describe the people on the Europa, that was also incredibly chilling. The Federation is definitely headed towards dark times here.
You continue to show us a disturbingly dark side of the Federation. My two hopes right now: Uhura is alright and Aurelia is going to kick some major butt!
These guys are just… bastards. No other term is applicable. Nicely done. In the space of a few short pages, I was left wanting to visit terrible vengeance upon the cowardly Captain Russell, the icily brutal Commander Collins, and the cold blooded Agent Visala. I look forward to getting to see the great karmic wheel come around and crush these three into dust.
Thank you everyone for your comments. I'm rather proud of that opening. It's nice to know others thought it was powerful as well.
CHAPTER 1 Stardate: 53711.2 (17 Sep 2376) SS Aaron Satie In Orbit of Terra Nova The night was long for Lieutenant Commander Ivan Feodrovich Paskevich Cherenkov. He sat on the side of his bunk. The room was comfortable enough; it was his mind that kept him awake. Late yesterday, retired Admiral Norah Satie’s offered him “a job” via holo-communicator. Perhaps fate had a hand in introducing Pascal Fullerton to Ivan. Pascal led a group called the New Essentialist movement. Three years ago, the group reverted Risa into its natural rainy climate to show how shallow and privileged Federation culture had become. Cherenkov found that Fullerton’s argument of getting Federation citizens’ collective head out of their ass rang true. Unknown to Cherenkov at the time, Fullerton had a powerful ally in Norah Satie, the current opposition frontrunner for Federation president. Now, one of Satie’s aides, Nellen Tore, expected an answer; would he help find Satie’s would-be assassin or not? A series of tones indicated to Ivan that someone was at the door. “Come in.” A Delb female entered. Her mild forehead ridges were accented with blue pigments. “Commander, I need to know your answer.” Ivan stood, wearing civilian clothing. He appreciated Tore’s lack of pleasantries, she normally seemed to be such a spurious person. He had been searching for something to bring purpose back into his life after his release from the stockade. It led him to back to Terra Nova, the place of his birth. It was appropriate that Satie’s staff caught up with him here. Her offer could give him a new focus. Despite his enmity toward politicians, his decision wasn’t that hard. “I accept.” Nellen had mixed feelings. She didn’t much care for his ‘kind,’ but she also knew Satie’s reasoning. She managed a polite grin, “Excellent.” She extended a hand. It was taken. “I’m sure the admiral can pull some stings with Starfleet to extend your leave.” “I’m sure she can,” acknowledged Ivan. “We’ll loan you a shuttle for the duration of your employment,” continued Tore. “In fact, I already have a lead for you. Satie received an incomplete message from one of our contacts. The communication was cut off at the source.” Cherenkov jumped right into his new role, “From where?” “New Sydney, a non-Federation planet in the Sappora system.” “How fast is that shuttle?” Ivan asked. “Warp 5,” answered Nellen, as if she excepted it. “Good enough,” curtsied Cherenkov. Tore volunteered, “The Aaron Satie will be heading for Sauria. Norah’s been campaigning there for the last couple of weeks.” The commander now had a spring in his step. “You have data on Satie’s contact?” inquired Ivan, pointing to a padd in Nellen’s hands. “Yes, here you go.” As Ivan took the padd, he ended the conversation with, “Where’s the shuttle bay?” ***** The USS Independence traveled at high warp, its sleek curves cut through the nothingness. “Captain’s Log: stardate 53714.0. The Independence has been ordered to Cestus III. The Federation colony is a stone’s throw from the Alshain Exarchate. Due to recent events, the Security Council has authorized a planetary defense upgrade. On a more personal level, Windslow has been back for about six weeks. We’ve made an agreement that I’ll lead any away team missions. Other than that, his work performance has been …adequate, but hardly exemplary. But, all in all, I’d say the ship and crew have really came together over the last several months. I’m proud of us.” ***** Nicole Chase’s naked form rolled off Karim. The bed sheets, along with items of clothing, had long since fallen unceremoniously on the deck. A glistening of sweat covered both of them. Each took a moment to catch their breath. Bin Nadal ordered between heavy inhalations, “Computer, lower temperature by 10 degrees.” Nicole cooed as she put a hand on his chest, “Thank you.” “It was way too hot in here,” commented the security chief. “No,” whispered Chase as she kissed him, “I mean, thank you.” “Oh,” blushed Karim, “you’re quite welcome.” Nicole reluctantly moved off her lover and looked at the chronometer. “Damn,” she said, “I have to be on duty in 8 minutes.” “Cutting it a bit close aren’t you?” chided the Persian. “It was worth it,” replied Chase as she got up and headed for the sonic shower. Karim put his hands behind his head, his contentment apparent. A few minutes after Nicole left, a soft beeping started. It took him a moment to realize what it was: an incoming call on a secured channel. He had transmissions on a particular carrier frequency routed directly to his quarters, bypassing the bridge. It was one of many tricks he picked up in Starfleet Intelligence. In his rush to answer the call, the fact that he was naked eluded him. He sat at his desk and tapped on the computer. Alynna Nechayev tipped up an eyebrow as she beheld Karim with no shirt on. At least, as far as she knew, he had pants on. The security chief moved the display field up, just in case. “Catch you at a good time, commander?” asked Nechayev with an ever so slight grimace. Karim cleared his throat, “Um, how can I, ah, help you, sir?” Any jovial tone Alynna had quickly vanished, “I have a mission for you. I need you to take a shuttle and go to the coordinates I’m sending you. I want you to recover a very important operative. You’ll receive further orders from her when you get there.” “Me? Why not take the whole ship?” inquired Bin Nadal. Nechayev shrugged, “Honestly, this is very important and very sensitive. I just don’t trust your captain with it yet.” “But you trust me?” Nechayev leaned forward, “I trust you enough.” Karim paused as he thought, “What if I convince Aurelia to take the ship?” She shook her head, “No. First, I doubt she would. Second, if the Independence is pulled from her current mission, it would raise suspicions.” Karim began running scenarios through his mind, “It might help if you at least order Captain Aurelia to lend me a shuttle.” Again, Nechayev’s head shook, “I can’t have any traceable involvement. Aurelia would want orders. I won’t issue them.” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Bin Nadal knew the admiral was probably right. He took the next step, “We only have two shuttles capable of warp. The captain will notice one is gone.” “You’ll just have to improvise, commander,” offered the admiral. “This has to be done. The future of the Federation is at stake.” The tactical officer unenthusiastically said, “Right.” END OF CHAPTER 1
I have to wonder, are these truly Section 31 agents? The Section 31 that I know from DS9, while unscrupulous in methodology, still has Federation interests at heart. I honestly believed Sloan when he said he did what he did in order to protect good people like Bashir. In a way I had imagined the ultimate Section 31 agent would be someone very similar to The Operative in Joss Whedon's Serenity. Someone who knows he's doing evil for a greater good. Another possibility is a version of Sisko who has been through so many "In The Pale Moonlight" situations till his already thin morale line stretched to its limit. In other words Section 31 still have a moral code, even if its one that most people wouldn't consider moral. These agents in the opening chapter, they seem to have gone way beyond even Section 31's moral code. Either the stakes are so very high, or they've truly gone over to the dark side. It makes for good reading, but I'm a little wary about the way these people are stepping over the S31 line.
An excellent comment. The best response I can come up with is what Nechayev said in "Crimes and Shadows"...“For a while, it(S31) served its purpose. It protected the Federation. Sure it’s tactics were less than honorable, but it worked. Power corrupts, however, especially when you don’t have to answer to anyone. Soon this group began seeing themselves not as sentinels of the Federation, but as the Federation itself. They’ve slowly been working their way into the halls of power and undermining the democratic process." So, in their minds, they are doing what's best for the Federation. It's just their definition of 'the Federation' is dramatically different from what most people would think. I'm not trying to be dismissive. It's a great topic to bring up. But it seems to me, both in fiction and history, morality and covert agencies rarely mesh for very long.
This is very good stuff, Dnoth - I'm really enjoying this! I would imagine that within Section 31 you have extremes - the Federation loyalists at one end, the power hungry at the other, with both extremes relentless in pursuit of their goals.
You are building up the intrigue nicely. There is always a danger when you have covert groups operating without proper overwatch: the Gestapo is a perfect example of this in the real world. The sad truth is though that covert agencies are a necessity--there are some things that have to be done under the blanket as it were. But again, you have to have someone trusty watching the watchers or you get praetorianism which seems to be what is happening here with 31. The irony here is that Satie and Fullerton in their own ways aren't that much better--what you really have here are two groups of extremists going after each other with Uhura, possibly Nechayev and their people caught in the middle. It's looking like Federation politics is becoming as Byzantine as Romulan...
A lot of shadow play going on here which I find very intriguing and I also agree that intrinsical raises an intersting point. Perhaps there is even some disagreement within S31 over which actions to take? I like this installment quite a bit but I do have one little suggestion. Not everyone has read Darkush's excellent vignettes or may have forgotten some details (like me). A refresher of the Satie/Cherenkov meeting would have been appropriate I think. Unless of course you're keeping us in the dark here on purpose.
I could echo CeJay's comments. As a newcomer to the forums I need to catch up on an awful lot and so plots involving other fics can sometimes be a turn-off. Nonetheless, what I'm reading is compelling. I'm looking forward to what's in store for Karim.
The debate about Section 31 is a good one. I'm tempted to make a thread "Section 31: Friend of Foe?" [Edit] There already has been a discussion about that. I haven't read it yet. = What do you think of Section 31? As far as covering DarKush's stories. In a first draft, I did exactly that, but it just felt like I was throwing too much at the reader at once. I will review more about Ivan later.
Dnoth, Two very excellent installments. That S31 crew on the Philly is quite nasty. I don't see them as being too far removed from the S31 agents we've seen onscreen. It's all about the corrupting influence of power, and of what a person would do if no one was looking. I think the actions could be in line with what some S31 agents might perceive to be the 'right' or 'necessary' course of action. Then again, almost every organization has their bad apples. You did a good job with Ivan as well. I look forward to seeing what you'll have in store for him.
CHAPTER 2 Supplemental USS Independence, Captain’s Ready Room In Route to Cestus III “But she said, the future of the Federation is at stake!” pleaded Bin Nadal to his captain. Sintina shrugged, “Then why didn’t she order me to do it?” The Persian sighed in resignation. “I can’t divert,” continued Aurelia. “Cestus III needs these defense system upgrades. The colony is less than ten light-years away from the Alshain and the Gorn. I’m not going the opposite direction.” Bin Nadal conceded, but wasn’t done negotiating. “Then let me take the Delos.” Aurelia sat back, “No. We’ll need both runabouts to deploy the orbital weapons.” “It could be done with only one,” argued Karim. She nodded in a round about way, “Yes, but it’d take longer.” “Please,” begged Bin Nadal, “let me do this.” “You and I have been through a lot. I trust you as much as I trust anyone.” Sintina considered for several seconds before responding, “Look at it from my point of view. All I have is you coming in here and saying it’s so. The only orders I have are to get to Cestus III and reinforce our defenses in the face of not one, but two hostile species,” she puffed, “not counting the Tholians, Son’a, and Orions. This isn’t the best part of the quadrant.” She interlocked her hands and rested them on her desk, “What would you do?” Bin Nadal grudgingly came to the conclusion that Sintina was still not ready to make the leap he asked of her. He didn’t really blame her, it was just…disappointing. “I understand,” he mumbled. She dipped her head to get her friend’s attention, “I’m sorry.” He silently nodded as he exited. ***** Once one got away from the mining operations on New Sydney, the planet was rather nice. Uhura found herself in an affluent section of the main city. This part of town was surrounded by a large barrier to keep ‘the rabble’ out. There were basically two classes of people here; the rich mine owners and their miners. The disparity troubled Nyota, but nothing would be accomplished by complaining about it to her current company. Yanas Tigan sat across the room. Her eyes fixed on an old family picture. Less than a year ago, she was the owner of the sixth largest pergium mine in the Sappora system. Unfortunately, in a bid to save her beleaguering company, her sons took it upon themselves to get involved with the Orion Syndicate. It was the beginning of the end for Tigan Mining Company. In exchange for paying the ‘pension’ to a wife of one of their members, the Syndicate would loan them enough money to stop their company from going under. The wife, however, asked for more and more money. The deal soured. Her youngest son, Norvo, in a misguided attempt to solve the situation, killed the woman. The worst part of it, in Yanas mind, was the fact her sons were now in prison because of her own ambitions. The company…anything for the company. All Norvo wanted was to be an artist, would that have been so bad? And Janel, he was more competent than she ever let him know. …Had she ever praised either one of them? That left Ezri. Yanas never wanted her to join Starfleet, but her daughter was always so stubborn. Ezri was the only one strong enough to oppose her will. Yanas now knew Ezri’s insubordination probably saved her from her brothers’ fate. She sold the family business afterwards. The proceeds allowed her to maintain her lifestyle, but not her future generations’. Yanas’ guest roused her out of her daily ritual of regret. “Thank you again, for allowing me to stay here,” said the old, human woman. Yanas absently responded, “It’s the least I could do, after a wasting a lifetime.” Uhura sat next to the unjoined Trill on the couch, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Yanas. You did your best at the time.” “It took the imprisonment of my sons to realize my mistake,” said Yanas. Uhura rested a hand on her shoulder. “Many people don’t change,” offered Nyota, “even after such a loss. You found the courage to do something different.” The Trill nodded despite herself, “I’m glad one of your Listeners approached me. Maybe I can make something good come out of this.” “As long as you keep that attitude,” encouraged Uhura, “I’m sure you will.” Yanas changed the subject, “Have you called for transportation?” “I don’t need to,” grinned Uhura, “my people will be coming for me soon.” ***** Visala commandeered the captain’s quarters the moment the ship was launched. It had taken nearly a year to find the proper officers to assign to the Philadelphia. Admiral Ross had done most of the leg work. She had never talked to the man directly, but apparently he had been working with Section 31 on and off since the Federation- Tzenkethi War. The idea was simple; get and maintain direct control of a Starfleet vessel. The resources of a starship would prove to be invaluable to the Section. Sure, they could gain control of any Starfleet ship at anytime via their command codes, but doing that too often is problematic. And coming up with false presences to have a captain achieve a 31 goal is tiresome. A controllable and unquestioning crew was what was needed. The master-mind of the project was the agent she reported to now; a human known as Morgan. “Report,” ordered the dark-skinned man. Visala began, “We are patrolling the most likely route for any communications between the old woman and the target.” “Good.” “How is your progress?” inquired the female agent. “The assassins have been recruited. The treatments are working well.” Visala let out a light laugh. Morgan questioned,“Have I said something funny?” “No,” rejoined Visala, “It’s just we have access to all this mind-control technology and you rely on simple blackmail for the Philadelphia crew.” He grinned widely in response, “Not in every case, some, like Collins, are simply born killers. Besides, sometimes the simplest technique is the most effective.” END OF CHAPTER 2
Another good chapter. Though the Yanas/Uhura scene is a little confusing. It seems like you job from Uhura's POV to Yanas without some kind of break to let me know this is Yanas's thoughts. Other than that, the chapter flows smoothly.
A good segment. I was also a bit disappointed that Captain Aurelia didn't help Bin Nadal. His request did not seem unreasonable (borrowing the runabout, that is). I guess Aurelia is a bit sensitive about bucking orders, considering the poor relationship she has with Admiral Nechayev. Ironic, considering that Necahyev is the one directing Bin Nadal. Good stuff!