ST: Independence - "Beneath the Raptor's Wings"
- Thread starter Dnoth
- Start date
I hope everything is OK for you!
Ok, I'm starting to get back into the swing of things. I'll endeavor to be more consistent in my posting. Thanks for sticking with me!
CHAPTER 2
Supplemental
USS Independence, Holodeck Two
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
‘It’s too bad the tournament required unarmed combat,’ thought Jonin Faltyne. He could use the practice with his ushaan-tor. He jumped back to avoid a roundhouse kick from one of his subordinates from Security, Petty Officer Runningfox.
The Andorian panted, “Starfleet issue combat training won’t cut it here, PO.”
Cheveyo Runningfox saw how his section chief was losing momentum. He knew Andorians overheated quite easy. He held no illusions; however, he was sweating too. The Pueblo responded, “We’ll see about that, sir.”
Aurelia rested with a towel around her shoulders on the sidelines. She leaned over to her first officer. “This one’s a tough call.”
“Runningfox is good,” commented Karim, “but Jonin has more experience.”
“What are the odds at?” fished Sintina.
The Persian officer didn’t bite, “Why Captain, you know gambling aboard ship is against the regulations.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, right.”
The enlisted man went for a jab, but it was blocked and his wrist was grabbed in a single motion. It was the beginning of the end. And Cheveyo knew it.
Faltyne, still in possession of the human’s wrist, spun behind him and started a submission hold.
The pain inflicted was intense. Runningfox tapped out.
*****
Supplemental
USS Philadelphia, Captain’s Ready Room
En Route to Sierra Outpost I, Along the Neutral Zone
Captain Zackary Collins sat at his desk. His hair was short and black. He had what had been described for centuries as the “thousand-yard stare.” You could look into his cold, menacing eyes and know he was a killer. Though, there was no remorse in them.
The intercom activated with a tone, “Captain, you are receiving a personal message.”
Collins knew it was a lie. He hadn’t had any contact with family since he was fifteen. And friends…friends weren’t necessary. “Put it through.”
A familiar female Andorian wearing a black tunic appeared on the screen. “Agent Visala, you have another mission for me?”
“Indeed,” confirmed the Section 31 operative. “We’re issuing the official orders through Command this time. The Philadelphia won’t be working alone.”
“What’s the target?”
“Officially, a rogue Romulan commander,” she stated.
“And unofficially?” he prompted.
She sighed and elaborated, “We’re going above the board on this one for a reason. It is supposed to be a joint-feel good mission between Starfleet and the Romulan Navy. But to set up future plans, it would benefit us if a Starfleet vessel were destroyed by this rogue. You need to make sure that happens.”
“Planning on straining Federation/Romulan relations are we?” he suggested.
Her response was quick, “You need not worry about such things, Captain.”
He grinned devilishly, “Of course.” Zack went on, “Who gets sacrificed?”
The Andorian let a smile escape, “You get to kill two birds with one stone.”
*****
Supplemental
IRW Fothmar, Captain’s Ready Room
Running Under Cloak near the Neutral Zone
The enunciator chimed. Commander P’nav expected it. Maintaining control of the ship would prove to be more difficult from this point on. “Come in, Sub-Commander.”
His suspicions were correct. Xil entered and asked without preamble, “Are you loyal to the Star Navy or the Tal Shiar?”
The seasoned commander templed his fingers, “I told you. I’m loyal to the people.”
The sub-commander cocked his head, “With respect, that’s no answer.”
P’nav came back with, “It should be.”
Xil stepped forward, “If I am to function as your second-in-command, I need to know your intentions.”
The elder Romulan breathed deeply. He stood, looked out the large window behind his chair, and placed his hands behind his back. He stayed like that for several seconds.
It didn’t surprise Xil. He had seen this behavior before. It was his commander’s favorite thinking position. He knew he could not rush an answer. So he waited.
The commander didn’t turn around when he warned, “If I tell you, your faith in our leaders will be shaken.”
Xil couldn’t stop a slight chuckle, “It wouldn’t be the first time, sir.”
The sub-commander was assigned to the ship five years ago. P’nav liked him, trusted him. The two battled through the Dominion War together. It wasn’t a matter of loyalty stopping P’nav from sharing the information. It was a matter of burden. He chose another route.
“I’ve been in contact with a well placed Klingon who associates with a group offering assistance,” explained the commander. He turned, “I intend to give my information to them and then I must go into hiding.”
Several questions formed in Xil’s mind. He vocalized, “What about the ship…the crew?”
“They cannot be allowed to share my fate. If all goes as planned, they will bear no responsibility for my actions.” He added, “Nor will you.”
“Commander,” offered Xil, “Surely there are other options, other channels to deal with this within the Empire. If the danger is as grave as you make it out to be, it must be addressed by Romulans. Not outsiders.”
“I wish there were,” admitted P’nav.
The sub-commander seemed at a loss. Then, he closed the gap between them, “If you tell me you are doing this for the good of the Romulan people, I’ll follow you to whatever end, without question.”
The elder Romulan somberly locked eyes with his subordinate, “I am doing this for the good of the Romulan people, for my grandsons, for your daughter.”
Satisfied with the response, Xil assumed a ridged military posture, “What are your orders, Commander?”
P’nav moved around his desk and placed a proud hand on Xil’s shoulder. “Chart an indirect route to the Beta Pictoris System. It is a large, energetic star surrounded by a massive debris disk that has yet to form into an organized system, and it’s in the Neutral Zone. It’s perfect for our purposes. There, our paths will part.”
END OF CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
Supplemental
USS Independence, Holodeck Two
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
‘It’s too bad the tournament required unarmed combat,’ thought Jonin Faltyne. He could use the practice with his ushaan-tor. He jumped back to avoid a roundhouse kick from one of his subordinates from Security, Petty Officer Runningfox.
The Andorian panted, “Starfleet issue combat training won’t cut it here, PO.”
Cheveyo Runningfox saw how his section chief was losing momentum. He knew Andorians overheated quite easy. He held no illusions; however, he was sweating too. The Pueblo responded, “We’ll see about that, sir.”
Aurelia rested with a towel around her shoulders on the sidelines. She leaned over to her first officer. “This one’s a tough call.”
“Runningfox is good,” commented Karim, “but Jonin has more experience.”
“What are the odds at?” fished Sintina.
The Persian officer didn’t bite, “Why Captain, you know gambling aboard ship is against the regulations.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, right.”
The enlisted man went for a jab, but it was blocked and his wrist was grabbed in a single motion. It was the beginning of the end. And Cheveyo knew it.
Faltyne, still in possession of the human’s wrist, spun behind him and started a submission hold.
The pain inflicted was intense. Runningfox tapped out.
*****
Supplemental
USS Philadelphia, Captain’s Ready Room
En Route to Sierra Outpost I, Along the Neutral Zone
Captain Zackary Collins sat at his desk. His hair was short and black. He had what had been described for centuries as the “thousand-yard stare.” You could look into his cold, menacing eyes and know he was a killer. Though, there was no remorse in them.
The intercom activated with a tone, “Captain, you are receiving a personal message.”
Collins knew it was a lie. He hadn’t had any contact with family since he was fifteen. And friends…friends weren’t necessary. “Put it through.”
A familiar female Andorian wearing a black tunic appeared on the screen. “Agent Visala, you have another mission for me?”
“Indeed,” confirmed the Section 31 operative. “We’re issuing the official orders through Command this time. The Philadelphia won’t be working alone.”
“What’s the target?”
“Officially, a rogue Romulan commander,” she stated.
“And unofficially?” he prompted.
She sighed and elaborated, “We’re going above the board on this one for a reason. It is supposed to be a joint-feel good mission between Starfleet and the Romulan Navy. But to set up future plans, it would benefit us if a Starfleet vessel were destroyed by this rogue. You need to make sure that happens.”
“Planning on straining Federation/Romulan relations are we?” he suggested.
Her response was quick, “You need not worry about such things, Captain.”
He grinned devilishly, “Of course.” Zack went on, “Who gets sacrificed?”
The Andorian let a smile escape, “You get to kill two birds with one stone.”
*****
Supplemental
IRW Fothmar, Captain’s Ready Room
Running Under Cloak near the Neutral Zone
The enunciator chimed. Commander P’nav expected it. Maintaining control of the ship would prove to be more difficult from this point on. “Come in, Sub-Commander.”
His suspicions were correct. Xil entered and asked without preamble, “Are you loyal to the Star Navy or the Tal Shiar?”
The seasoned commander templed his fingers, “I told you. I’m loyal to the people.”
The sub-commander cocked his head, “With respect, that’s no answer.”
P’nav came back with, “It should be.”
Xil stepped forward, “If I am to function as your second-in-command, I need to know your intentions.”
The elder Romulan breathed deeply. He stood, looked out the large window behind his chair, and placed his hands behind his back. He stayed like that for several seconds.
It didn’t surprise Xil. He had seen this behavior before. It was his commander’s favorite thinking position. He knew he could not rush an answer. So he waited.
The commander didn’t turn around when he warned, “If I tell you, your faith in our leaders will be shaken.”
Xil couldn’t stop a slight chuckle, “It wouldn’t be the first time, sir.”
The sub-commander was assigned to the ship five years ago. P’nav liked him, trusted him. The two battled through the Dominion War together. It wasn’t a matter of loyalty stopping P’nav from sharing the information. It was a matter of burden. He chose another route.
“I’ve been in contact with a well placed Klingon who associates with a group offering assistance,” explained the commander. He turned, “I intend to give my information to them and then I must go into hiding.”
Several questions formed in Xil’s mind. He vocalized, “What about the ship…the crew?”
“They cannot be allowed to share my fate. If all goes as planned, they will bear no responsibility for my actions.” He added, “Nor will you.”
“Commander,” offered Xil, “Surely there are other options, other channels to deal with this within the Empire. If the danger is as grave as you make it out to be, it must be addressed by Romulans. Not outsiders.”
“I wish there were,” admitted P’nav.
The sub-commander seemed at a loss. Then, he closed the gap between them, “If you tell me you are doing this for the good of the Romulan people, I’ll follow you to whatever end, without question.”
The elder Romulan somberly locked eyes with his subordinate, “I am doing this for the good of the Romulan people, for my grandsons, for your daughter.”
Satisfied with the response, Xil assumed a ridged military posture, “What are your orders, Commander?”
P’nav moved around his desk and placed a proud hand on Xil’s shoulder. “Chart an indirect route to the Beta Pictoris System. It is a large, energetic star surrounded by a massive debris disk that has yet to form into an organized system, and it’s in the Neutral Zone. It’s perfect for our purposes. There, our paths will part.”
END OF CHAPTER 2
Ah, Captain Collins... that guy never gets any less creepy. I’m sure Aurelia’s going to love working with him again.
And the Romulans, always coming in from an angle, never straight on. It must be tiring to have to play so many loyalty games, even with your own comrades. Then again, with people like Collins in Starfleet, is the Federation really all that different?
Pray continue, good sir!
And the Romulans, always coming in from an angle, never straight on. It must be tiring to have to play so many loyalty games, even with your own comrades. Then again, with people like Collins in Starfleet, is the Federation really all that different?
Pray continue, good sir!
Whoa, that Collins dude is just pure EVIL! Man, I'd hate to get stuck serving on that ship, or any other one he crosses paths with!!
I know that D'noth will deal with Collins in his own time and fashion, but I keep holding out hope that he'll borrow one of my characters to do the job. And boy, do I have just the guy.
Is there going to be a third Independence?
Nah, I'll put my money on Aurelia this time. She's matured (somewhat). She won't let S31 take another ship from her. Even if she'll be up against a bully in a Sovereign.
But I foresee a lot of complications before this is all over. Romulans, Klingons, S31, Aurelia & company ... there will be blood.
The Indy might be the little mosquito to the elephantine Philadelphia, but do remember that mosquitoes carry diseases. Aurelia has had a gutful of 31 and their machinations and this time she will make sure that Collins gets a bloody nose at the very least.
Romulans and intrigue and our favorite heavy, Collins, makes his return. This situation can only get from bad to worse. Echoing DarKush, I also see elements of Mark Lenard's Romulan in P'nav.
Thanks everyone for the comments. I hope to do the Romulans justice.
CHAPTER 3
Supplemental
USS Independence, Holodeck Two
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
The semi-transparent tournament ladder rotated slowly above the primitive looking arena. There were only eight total competitors. The first fight of the second tier was won. A relative newcomer to the ship, Jonin Faltyne, dominated one of his subordinates. Ensign Folana Lemipil, a female Zakdorn, didn’t take the defeat well. She all but stomped out of the holodeck. Most of the spectators disregarded her reaction. Zakdorns were known for their fragile egos.
The next match, though it wasn’t the final, was by far the most anticipated. Commander bin Nadal defeated his first tier opponent and now faced Sintina. The crowd rose to their feet as the two stepped foot on the dirt from opposite ends of the arena. Everyone knew the two often sparred together, but they never allowed observers. Some of the medical staff started rumors of how vicious the captain and the first officer fought. One or both of them would come in with terrible looking bruises. A small minority of the crew were beginning to think they were non-sexual sadomasochists.
The Persian wore an Okinawan gi. It was an unbleached hemp color. An oval shaped patch adorned his left breast and the belt was black. The gi had several stains, deliberate reminders of his experience in their previous ship’s last hours.
The fighters approached each other.
“You know,” began Karim, “as first officer, I have to consider the effects it would have on ship moral if you lost.”
Sintina berated him in a playful tone, “You’d better not hold back.” Her voice had just a hint of threatening sincerity. She added, “Because I won’t.”
As they bowed, bin Nadal stated, “I never doubted that, Tina.”
Immediately, both snapped into a defensive stance and began circling each other. Aurelia began the distinctive capoeira movements. Karim’s body seemed much more relaxed.
Sitting just outside the pit, Weston leaned over to the Independence’s security chief, “So you’re gonna have to fight one of them?”
The Andorian male nodded slightly, barely acknowledging the comment. Jonin was far too preoccupied watching their styles. Bin Nadal was much more passive than Aurelia. He fought without visible emotion. The captain, on the other hand, used her passion.
The Latina went for a sweep. Karim jumped in time to avoid it. He landed and instantly delivered a low snap kick to her torso. Using the kick’s energy, she rolled away and recovered.
The crowd was evenly split on their favorite. Everyone immensely enjoyed the event. It wasn’t often fleet personnel got to see their XO and CO spar. The cheers were deafening.
Aurelia leaped up and landed a roundhouse kick to the Persian’s cheek. The impact forced him to go into a spin. He ended up on his hands and knees, facing away from her.
She began to advance on him. Quickly, bin Nadal jetted out a foot that smacked into her jaw. Dazed, she retreated. He took the opportunity to stand back up.
Now, mixed in with the cheers, were sounds of sympathy for the participant currently getting hit. The strikes from both were noticeably more violent than from their previous contests.
Aurelia rose up for a lunging punch. Karim began to anticipate for it. Then, she dropped down and kicked him in the midsection. He folded over. She followed up with a knee to his face. He flung over and landed in the dirt. She went for a stomp, but he grabbed her foot and twisted. She spun out and joined him on the ground.
Unbeknownst to the combatants, the cheering had died down a bit. Some spectators marveled in shock. Many wondered if this was what their ‘normal’ sparring session was like.
Kimula watched on with a mild concern. Not for her friends. She knew they took things a bit too far when they sparred, but for the observers. So, she was relieved when her combadge activated. She moved away from the crowed to hear Chief Hatora from the bridge.
“…to get a hold of the captain. The computer says she’s there.”
The Andorian comm. officer rejoined, “It’s a bit loud in here, Chief. Plus, she doesn’t have her compin on her. I can relay the message.”
“We’ve received a priority one communiqué from Fleet Commander Amasov.”
Soma glanced over at the fight. Somehow, it seemed fitting to break it up…before more people began to believe the rumors. “Understood, standby.” The Andorian female shuffled onto the field of combat and yelled to the fighters, “Stop! Time out! Break it up!”
It took a moment, but the two withdrew from each other. The room felt a combination of relief and disappointment. Both were battered and winded.
Aurelia had a look of confusion and frustration, “What is it?”
“Rear Admiral Amasov is calling,” responded the counselor.
Caught up in the moment, the captain actually complained, “But what about the tournament?” There was a child’s disenchantment in her voice.
Karim chimed in with a chuckle, “I’m sure everyone will understand, Captain.”
She realized the selfishness in her comment. She took a deep breath and put her hand on her hips for a moment. Then, she addressed the crew, “Sorry everybody, duty calls.”
The crowd accepted her statement with an unfulfilled groan.
“So do you forfeit?” chided Kimula.
Sintina spun around with an incredulous look, “No. The tournament is delayed that’s all.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Captain’s Ready Room
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
Still dripping with sweat and pushing down the adrenaline, Aurelia entered her office off the bridge. The incessant beeping reminded her that Admiral Amazov was awaiting her over subspace. She quickly grabbed a towel from the head and dabbed her face with it before plopping in her chair.
She cleared her throat and activated the viewer. A dark-haired Russian in his mid-50’s looked back at her.
He noticed her lack of uniform, but thought little of it. He opened with a genial, “Captain Aurelia, how are you liking the Neutral Zone patrol?”
Sintina shrugged, “It’s been relatively uneventful.” She remembered she was talking to an admiral and admirals didn’t like to hear things like that, so she added, “We assisted the Border Service in catching some smugglers last week.”
“Yes, I heard about that. The Jupiter’s skipper spoke well of you,” confirmed Amazov. “I like to keep in contact with the local squadron commander.”
She tipped her head in recognition. She was slowly but steadily breaking down the image of the inexperienced hothead some seemed to have about her.
The Russian leaned and steepled his fingers. “I have another mission for you, Captain. It seems the Romulans have a bit of a problem.”
END OF CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 3
Supplemental
USS Independence, Holodeck Two
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
The semi-transparent tournament ladder rotated slowly above the primitive looking arena. There were only eight total competitors. The first fight of the second tier was won. A relative newcomer to the ship, Jonin Faltyne, dominated one of his subordinates. Ensign Folana Lemipil, a female Zakdorn, didn’t take the defeat well. She all but stomped out of the holodeck. Most of the spectators disregarded her reaction. Zakdorns were known for their fragile egos.
The next match, though it wasn’t the final, was by far the most anticipated. Commander bin Nadal defeated his first tier opponent and now faced Sintina. The crowd rose to their feet as the two stepped foot on the dirt from opposite ends of the arena. Everyone knew the two often sparred together, but they never allowed observers. Some of the medical staff started rumors of how vicious the captain and the first officer fought. One or both of them would come in with terrible looking bruises. A small minority of the crew were beginning to think they were non-sexual sadomasochists.
The Persian wore an Okinawan gi. It was an unbleached hemp color. An oval shaped patch adorned his left breast and the belt was black. The gi had several stains, deliberate reminders of his experience in their previous ship’s last hours.
The fighters approached each other.
“You know,” began Karim, “as first officer, I have to consider the effects it would have on ship moral if you lost.”
Sintina berated him in a playful tone, “You’d better not hold back.” Her voice had just a hint of threatening sincerity. She added, “Because I won’t.”
As they bowed, bin Nadal stated, “I never doubted that, Tina.”
Immediately, both snapped into a defensive stance and began circling each other. Aurelia began the distinctive capoeira movements. Karim’s body seemed much more relaxed.
Sitting just outside the pit, Weston leaned over to the Independence’s security chief, “So you’re gonna have to fight one of them?”
The Andorian male nodded slightly, barely acknowledging the comment. Jonin was far too preoccupied watching their styles. Bin Nadal was much more passive than Aurelia. He fought without visible emotion. The captain, on the other hand, used her passion.
The Latina went for a sweep. Karim jumped in time to avoid it. He landed and instantly delivered a low snap kick to her torso. Using the kick’s energy, she rolled away and recovered.
The crowd was evenly split on their favorite. Everyone immensely enjoyed the event. It wasn’t often fleet personnel got to see their XO and CO spar. The cheers were deafening.
Aurelia leaped up and landed a roundhouse kick to the Persian’s cheek. The impact forced him to go into a spin. He ended up on his hands and knees, facing away from her.
She began to advance on him. Quickly, bin Nadal jetted out a foot that smacked into her jaw. Dazed, she retreated. He took the opportunity to stand back up.
Now, mixed in with the cheers, were sounds of sympathy for the participant currently getting hit. The strikes from both were noticeably more violent than from their previous contests.
Aurelia rose up for a lunging punch. Karim began to anticipate for it. Then, she dropped down and kicked him in the midsection. He folded over. She followed up with a knee to his face. He flung over and landed in the dirt. She went for a stomp, but he grabbed her foot and twisted. She spun out and joined him on the ground.
Unbeknownst to the combatants, the cheering had died down a bit. Some spectators marveled in shock. Many wondered if this was what their ‘normal’ sparring session was like.
Kimula watched on with a mild concern. Not for her friends. She knew they took things a bit too far when they sparred, but for the observers. So, she was relieved when her combadge activated. She moved away from the crowed to hear Chief Hatora from the bridge.
“…to get a hold of the captain. The computer says she’s there.”
The Andorian comm. officer rejoined, “It’s a bit loud in here, Chief. Plus, she doesn’t have her compin on her. I can relay the message.”
“We’ve received a priority one communiqué from Fleet Commander Amasov.”
Soma glanced over at the fight. Somehow, it seemed fitting to break it up…before more people began to believe the rumors. “Understood, standby.” The Andorian female shuffled onto the field of combat and yelled to the fighters, “Stop! Time out! Break it up!”
It took a moment, but the two withdrew from each other. The room felt a combination of relief and disappointment. Both were battered and winded.
Aurelia had a look of confusion and frustration, “What is it?”
“Rear Admiral Amasov is calling,” responded the counselor.
Caught up in the moment, the captain actually complained, “But what about the tournament?” There was a child’s disenchantment in her voice.
Karim chimed in with a chuckle, “I’m sure everyone will understand, Captain.”
She realized the selfishness in her comment. She took a deep breath and put her hand on her hips for a moment. Then, she addressed the crew, “Sorry everybody, duty calls.”
The crowd accepted her statement with an unfulfilled groan.
“So do you forfeit?” chided Kimula.
Sintina spun around with an incredulous look, “No. The tournament is delayed that’s all.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Captain’s Ready Room
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
Still dripping with sweat and pushing down the adrenaline, Aurelia entered her office off the bridge. The incessant beeping reminded her that Admiral Amazov was awaiting her over subspace. She quickly grabbed a towel from the head and dabbed her face with it before plopping in her chair.
She cleared her throat and activated the viewer. A dark-haired Russian in his mid-50’s looked back at her.
He noticed her lack of uniform, but thought little of it. He opened with a genial, “Captain Aurelia, how are you liking the Neutral Zone patrol?”
Sintina shrugged, “It’s been relatively uneventful.” She remembered she was talking to an admiral and admirals didn’t like to hear things like that, so she added, “We assisted the Border Service in catching some smugglers last week.”
“Yes, I heard about that. The Jupiter’s skipper spoke well of you,” confirmed Amazov. “I like to keep in contact with the local squadron commander.”
She tipped her head in recognition. She was slowly but steadily breaking down the image of the inexperienced hothead some seemed to have about her.
The Russian leaned and steepled his fingers. “I have another mission for you, Captain. It seems the Romulans have a bit of a problem.”
END OF CHAPTER 3
I really was wondering who would win that fight. And now I still don't know. That's frustrating. I liked the reverence the fight got from the crowd. That felt appropriate.
Well, I'll be waiting for the re-match but for now I guess Aurelia is going to have bigger fish to fry.
Good stuff.
Well, I'll be waiting for the re-match but for now I guess Aurelia is going to have bigger fish to fry.
Good stuff.
The fight scene was intense, but what caught my attention was the crowd’s reaction. As was mentioned earlier, Aurelia perhaps risks losing some of her command-aura invincibility if she loses. Now I wonder if both she and bin Nadal might now lose some respect for not showing each other any quarter during their match? Some of the onlookers seemed off-put by the savagery being demonstrated by those two. Perhaps going full-tilt might not have demonstrated the best judgment on their part?
Good to see old Amasov made the transition to the admiralty!
The fact that they’re putting Aurelia into a situation involving the Romulans speaks volumes about Command’s estimation of her temperament and abilities. The days when Captain Picard wanted to throttle her are becoming distant memories… 
Good to see old Amasov made the transition to the admiralty!
The fact that they’re putting Aurelia into a situation involving the Romulans speaks volumes about Command’s estimation of her temperament and abilities. The days when Captain Picard wanted to throttle her are becoming distant memories… I echo Gibraltar. Well written fight scene that really highlighted both characters' personalities. I really like what you're doing with Jonin as well. I never found a good use for him after Gibraltar so kindly let me transfer him to DS9, but you've really integrated him into the Indy's crew. Glad you've used Amasov as well. Always liked that name and would've liked to have seen him on screen.
Considering your last story focused on Klingons was such a joy to read I have high hopes for your treatment of the Romulans especially as you have experince of writing treachery and double dealing writing about S13. But again it is Aurelia, bin Nadel and co. who also make for compelling reading even if only having a friendly competition!
CHAPTER 4
Supplemental
USS Independence, Conference Lounge
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
Aurelia ran a casual enough boat to where no one felt awkward about showing up to a staff meeting wearing what they had on during the tournament. The Steamrunner class conference lounge was positioned aft of the bridge. It looked similar to that of a Galaxy class, but smaller and more utilitarian.
Sintina, now wearing a black, light-weight robe, walked passed the large, transparent aluminum windows. “Apparently, the Romulans have been chasing this ship for nearly a week. Now, he’s getting close to the Neutral Zone, so as a gesture of goodwill, they decided to include Starfleet in their search.” Her tone seemed distant, distracted.
“Who’s in command of the Fothmar?” Faltyne asked.
The captain nodded to her first officer as she leaned against the bulkhead.
Lieutenant Commander bin Nadal got up and activated the display on the opposite wall. An image of an elderly Romulan appeared along with biographical data. He began, “His name is P’nav. He has nearly 50 years of experience in the Romulan Navy.”
Kimula addressed Aurelia, “Why would he go rogue?”
She crossed her arms and shrugged, “Supposedly, he may be under some type of alien influence…at least, that’s the story the Romulans gave us.”
“You seem unconvinced,” observed Doctor Zo’Kama.
The petite Latina didn’t comment. It was obvious something was troubling her. Normally, she’d be pumped to get this type of mission. Instead, she was reserved. She stood straight and informed them, “We’re due to meet the Philadelphia and a warbird in the NZ by zero-nine tomorrow.”
“The Philadelphia?” ominously repeated Lieutenant Soma.
Sintina confirmed with somber eyes, “the Philadelphia.”
The crew that came over from the Interceptor class Independence would remember. Last year, the Indy and the Philadelphia had a skirmish. Most everyone was told – and believed – the Philly’s prior captain had become insane, attacked two civilian freighters, killed a police officer on New Sydney, and attacked the Indy. The incident became widely known, as it wasn’t often two Starfleet ships engaged in battle. The event didn’t help Sintina’s reputation. Some brass vocalized their displeasure at how she handled the situation. In the end, the Philly was short a nacelle and well on its way to being totally disabled.
The truth was something far more sinister, and known by Aurelia, Karim, and Soma. It was decided, at the time, not to share it with the others.
The rest of the senior staff could feel the tension, but didn’t fully understand it.
The captain wanted to end the meeting, so she started dishing out orders. “Faltyne, I want a tactical drill for each shift.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Doctor, study up on…aliens that Starfleet has encountered that could explain P’nav’s actions, just in case.”
The reptilian jerked her head, her species equivalent to a nod.
Aurelia looked at her science officer and chief engineer, “Tang, Windslow, find out how to break through a cloak.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came from Zian. The engineer acknowledged.
“Ensign,” as she addressed Weston, “Head to the rendezvous point at warp seven.” She concluded with, “Karim, Kim, stand fast. Everyone else, dismissed.”
Without protest, the others filed out. Once they were gone, the real issue was discussed.
“Is that one guy still in charge of the Philadelphia?” started the female Andorian.
“Collins,” corrected Sintina, “Captain Zackary Collins, and yes.” The name was etched into her mind ever since she realized she had been duped by him. She could have stopped him. She had the chance…and she let him go. He played her like a fool.
In the most soothing voice he could muster, bin Nadal stated, “I know what you’re thinking, and we can’t.”
“I know,” she rejoined without missing a beat, “a Steamrunner is no match for a Sovereign.”
Soma suggested, “Can’t we just request another ship take our place?”
“On what grounds?” Sintina snapped. “Refusing a mission isn’t something taken lightly.”
Karim reminded Soma, “As far as anyone knows, Collins didn’t do any of those things.” He added with a cruel irony, “He didn’t try to kill Admiral Uhura. He didn’t nearly kill me or Commander Cherenkov.” Noticeably, he didn’t bring up Nicole Chase.
Ever the voice of practicality, Kimula asked, “So what now?”
Aurelia thought for a moment. “The only thing we can do. We proceed with the mission…and we don’t let our guard down for damn second.”
*****
Supplemental
IRW Odaus, Tal Shiar Advisor’s Office
Running under Cloak in the Outmarches (Romulan Neutral Zone)
Major Rima settled into his plush chair and activated the monitor on his desk. He began to dictate his report:
“…any active subversion proved to be unnecessary. Commander Hanora’s inexperience has been sufficient. Commander P’nav has successfully dominated her ship in each encounter.
I understand the necessity of bring in Starfleet. However, their presence will cause the situation to become more precarious. I will, of course, do everything in my power to ensure our objectives.
Rima, out.”
The Tal Shiar agent then heavily encrypted the message and sent it to its recipient.
*****
Supplemental
IRW Fothmar, MedicalCenter
Running under Cloak near the Outmarches
The ship’s sickbay continued the theme of browns and greens that flowed throughout the rest of the vessel. It was quite large, due to the ship’s 1,500 inhabitants. The activity was average. About a dozen officers and crew were receiving care, mostly engineering injuries.
As Centurion Dulas entered the medical center, he noticed a Reman soldier in one of the bunks.
Dulas hadn’t decided what to think about the Remans. Before the war, they were little more than a slave labor force that hardly anyone ever saw, let alone thought about. The decision to use them as shock troops was a controversial one in the Senate. Some feared using them to defend the Empire might garner sympathy for them in the public’s eye.
He had learned to respect them as fighters, but little else. They enthusiastically went into battle. Dulas didn’t know what motivated them, whether it be courage, stupidity, or simply the desire to serve. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. They served their purpose well during the war.
The Fothmar’s tactical officer found who he came to see, “Doctor Dren,” he called out.
Like most everyone on the ship, the doctor wore the dark, irregular checkerboard-type uniform. The medical staff did lack some of the adornments, like the sash and raptor emblem, as they sometimes hampered medical procedures.
Dren waved Dulas into his office. The two often discussed things there. Both sat down.
The doctor correctly assumed the topic on Dulas’ mind, “You’re worried about this mission of the captain’s?”
The tactical officer retorted, “There is no mission. You know that as well as I do.” He added, “At least, not from the Admiralty.”
Dren was dismissive, “It’s not the first time we’ve been kept out of the loop. You don’t know…”
“I contacted one of my peers on another vessel in this sector,” admitted Dulas.
The revelation took the doctor by surprise. He leaned in conspiringly after he scanned to see if anyone heard the statement, “P’nav ordered a communications ban.”
Dulas ignored the comment and elaborated, “Word is, P’nav is under some type of alien possession.”
“No.”
“And those so-called fleet exercises,” he continued, “have been attempts to capture him.”
“That can’t be true,” responded the doctor.
“Think about it,” Dulas persisted, “it would explain his actions. Could you run a covert medical scan on him?”
Dren fidgeted slightly, “I suppose I could. But I’ve heard of parasites going undetected even with a medical scan.”
“I suggest you do it.”
He sighed, “Alright, I’ll do it. But if I don’t find anything, will it alleviate your fears…or make them worse?”
There was no verbal answer.
END OF CHAPTER 4
Supplemental
USS Independence, Conference Lounge
Orbiting Quebec Outpost VI, Along the Neutral Zone
Aurelia ran a casual enough boat to where no one felt awkward about showing up to a staff meeting wearing what they had on during the tournament. The Steamrunner class conference lounge was positioned aft of the bridge. It looked similar to that of a Galaxy class, but smaller and more utilitarian.
Sintina, now wearing a black, light-weight robe, walked passed the large, transparent aluminum windows. “Apparently, the Romulans have been chasing this ship for nearly a week. Now, he’s getting close to the Neutral Zone, so as a gesture of goodwill, they decided to include Starfleet in their search.” Her tone seemed distant, distracted.
“Who’s in command of the Fothmar?” Faltyne asked.
The captain nodded to her first officer as she leaned against the bulkhead.
Lieutenant Commander bin Nadal got up and activated the display on the opposite wall. An image of an elderly Romulan appeared along with biographical data. He began, “His name is P’nav. He has nearly 50 years of experience in the Romulan Navy.”
Kimula addressed Aurelia, “Why would he go rogue?”
She crossed her arms and shrugged, “Supposedly, he may be under some type of alien influence…at least, that’s the story the Romulans gave us.”
“You seem unconvinced,” observed Doctor Zo’Kama.
The petite Latina didn’t comment. It was obvious something was troubling her. Normally, she’d be pumped to get this type of mission. Instead, she was reserved. She stood straight and informed them, “We’re due to meet the Philadelphia and a warbird in the NZ by zero-nine tomorrow.”
“The Philadelphia?” ominously repeated Lieutenant Soma.
Sintina confirmed with somber eyes, “the Philadelphia.”
The crew that came over from the Interceptor class Independence would remember. Last year, the Indy and the Philadelphia had a skirmish. Most everyone was told – and believed – the Philly’s prior captain had become insane, attacked two civilian freighters, killed a police officer on New Sydney, and attacked the Indy. The incident became widely known, as it wasn’t often two Starfleet ships engaged in battle. The event didn’t help Sintina’s reputation. Some brass vocalized their displeasure at how she handled the situation. In the end, the Philly was short a nacelle and well on its way to being totally disabled.
The truth was something far more sinister, and known by Aurelia, Karim, and Soma. It was decided, at the time, not to share it with the others.
The rest of the senior staff could feel the tension, but didn’t fully understand it.
The captain wanted to end the meeting, so she started dishing out orders. “Faltyne, I want a tactical drill for each shift.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Doctor, study up on…aliens that Starfleet has encountered that could explain P’nav’s actions, just in case.”
The reptilian jerked her head, her species equivalent to a nod.
Aurelia looked at her science officer and chief engineer, “Tang, Windslow, find out how to break through a cloak.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came from Zian. The engineer acknowledged.
“Ensign,” as she addressed Weston, “Head to the rendezvous point at warp seven.” She concluded with, “Karim, Kim, stand fast. Everyone else, dismissed.”
Without protest, the others filed out. Once they were gone, the real issue was discussed.
“Is that one guy still in charge of the Philadelphia?” started the female Andorian.
“Collins,” corrected Sintina, “Captain Zackary Collins, and yes.” The name was etched into her mind ever since she realized she had been duped by him. She could have stopped him. She had the chance…and she let him go. He played her like a fool.
In the most soothing voice he could muster, bin Nadal stated, “I know what you’re thinking, and we can’t.”
“I know,” she rejoined without missing a beat, “a Steamrunner is no match for a Sovereign.”
Soma suggested, “Can’t we just request another ship take our place?”
“On what grounds?” Sintina snapped. “Refusing a mission isn’t something taken lightly.”
Karim reminded Soma, “As far as anyone knows, Collins didn’t do any of those things.” He added with a cruel irony, “He didn’t try to kill Admiral Uhura. He didn’t nearly kill me or Commander Cherenkov.” Noticeably, he didn’t bring up Nicole Chase.
Ever the voice of practicality, Kimula asked, “So what now?”
Aurelia thought for a moment. “The only thing we can do. We proceed with the mission…and we don’t let our guard down for damn second.”
*****
Supplemental
IRW Odaus, Tal Shiar Advisor’s Office
Running under Cloak in the Outmarches (Romulan Neutral Zone)
Major Rima settled into his plush chair and activated the monitor on his desk. He began to dictate his report:
“…any active subversion proved to be unnecessary. Commander Hanora’s inexperience has been sufficient. Commander P’nav has successfully dominated her ship in each encounter.
I understand the necessity of bring in Starfleet. However, their presence will cause the situation to become more precarious. I will, of course, do everything in my power to ensure our objectives.
Rima, out.”
The Tal Shiar agent then heavily encrypted the message and sent it to its recipient.
*****
Supplemental
IRW Fothmar, MedicalCenter
Running under Cloak near the Outmarches
The ship’s sickbay continued the theme of browns and greens that flowed throughout the rest of the vessel. It was quite large, due to the ship’s 1,500 inhabitants. The activity was average. About a dozen officers and crew were receiving care, mostly engineering injuries.
As Centurion Dulas entered the medical center, he noticed a Reman soldier in one of the bunks.
Dulas hadn’t decided what to think about the Remans. Before the war, they were little more than a slave labor force that hardly anyone ever saw, let alone thought about. The decision to use them as shock troops was a controversial one in the Senate. Some feared using them to defend the Empire might garner sympathy for them in the public’s eye.
He had learned to respect them as fighters, but little else. They enthusiastically went into battle. Dulas didn’t know what motivated them, whether it be courage, stupidity, or simply the desire to serve. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. They served their purpose well during the war.
The Fothmar’s tactical officer found who he came to see, “Doctor Dren,” he called out.
Like most everyone on the ship, the doctor wore the dark, irregular checkerboard-type uniform. The medical staff did lack some of the adornments, like the sash and raptor emblem, as they sometimes hampered medical procedures.
Dren waved Dulas into his office. The two often discussed things there. Both sat down.
The doctor correctly assumed the topic on Dulas’ mind, “You’re worried about this mission of the captain’s?”
The tactical officer retorted, “There is no mission. You know that as well as I do.” He added, “At least, not from the Admiralty.”
Dren was dismissive, “It’s not the first time we’ve been kept out of the loop. You don’t know…”
“I contacted one of my peers on another vessel in this sector,” admitted Dulas.
The revelation took the doctor by surprise. He leaned in conspiringly after he scanned to see if anyone heard the statement, “P’nav ordered a communications ban.”
Dulas ignored the comment and elaborated, “Word is, P’nav is under some type of alien possession.”
“No.”
“And those so-called fleet exercises,” he continued, “have been attempts to capture him.”
“That can’t be true,” responded the doctor.
“Think about it,” Dulas persisted, “it would explain his actions. Could you run a covert medical scan on him?”
Dren fidgeted slightly, “I suppose I could. But I’ve heard of parasites going undetected even with a medical scan.”
“I suggest you do it.”
He sighed, “Alright, I’ll do it. But if I don’t find anything, will it alleviate your fears…or make them worse?”
There was no verbal answer.
END OF CHAPTER 4
A rogue Romulan ship versus a Federation starship commanded by a stone-cold sociopath. And, as usual, Aurelia & Company are going to end up squarely in the middle. Yeah... I predict wailing and gnashing of teeth before this is over.
I liked the reaction of Indy’s command crew to the possibility of alien possession of the Romulan commander... a collective eye roll and ‘Yeah, uh-huh, sure.’
I hope they’re exceedingly careful, because Collins doesn’t pull his punches. Hell, he doesn’t even punch. He slides the blade in between your ribs from behind you.
Bastard! Man, I love to hate that guy!
I liked the reaction of Indy’s command crew to the possibility of alien possession of the Romulan commander... a collective eye roll and ‘Yeah, uh-huh, sure.’
I hope they’re exceedingly careful, because Collins doesn’t pull his punches. Hell, he doesn’t even punch. He slides the blade in between your ribs from behind you.
Bastard! Man, I love to hate that guy!
There are so many ways this situation can go horribly...horribly wrong. I'm dying to see which one(s) they are.
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