Star Trek : Angel - Book III - Saving History

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 6

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 6


USS ANGEL
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1503 FST

When Emil Vaslovik arrived aboard Angel Kat had to admit that he was even more charming in the flesh than he had been over the comm. Tall and physically trim, he had a quiet demeanour and a ready smile though Kat had noticed that a deep sadness, almost soulful tiredness, seemed to haunt his eyes. If they really are the window to the soul she mused, this is a man who’s seen some pretty awful things in his life.

“Mr Vaslovik…I assume it’s Mr?”

He stepped nimbly down from the transporter platform with a seldom seen nod to the Chief at the controls. “It’s Doctor actually,” he said smiling and extending a hand, “though I much prefer Emil.”

Kat shook the proffered hand and his grip was firm and friendly. “Emil it is then. Welcome aboard Angel, Captain Kat Gray though you’re obviously way ahead of me on that score.”

Escorting him from the transporter room she guided him to the nearest ‘lift. “By the way, it’s Kat. The Captain title is one I’m still not terribly comfortable with.” A small smile played across his lips at the comment but Kat didn’t notice it. “Besides,” she continued, “I’m hoping your arrival is likely to make it possible to hand the reins back to Captain Fishlock a little sooner.”

The ‘lift arrived and stepping inside, Kat ordered it to the bridge. “I apologise for having kept you waiting Emil. This whole event has turned into one inconceivably huge mess.”

“Really Captain...” Kat looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, Kat. It’s not an issue.”

Arriving on the bridge, T’Sell was in the centre seat and rose as Kat entered. “As you were Commander. I’ll be in a private meeting in the ready room if I’m needed.”

“Aye Captain.” T’Sell resumed her seat and continued studying a PADD of data.

As they entered the comfortable ready room, Kat indicated one of the armchairs and asked if her guest would like refreshment.

“Actually, you have no idea how much I would like a peppermint tea,” he replied. As Kat requested the drink from the replicator, Emil said “There’s something very odd going on with the replicator aboard my ship. I order peppermint tea and get some sludge that even my dog would turn her nose up at.”

Kat passed the piping hot mug to Emil who sniffed it appreciatively. “Well we’re likely to be here a little while longer. If you like I could ask one of my engineers to take a quick look at it for you?”

He sipped the beverage and sighed. “If they can get it to turn out peppermint tea like this, you’d have my undying gratitude,” he smiled.

Kat ordered a spring water then took a seat opposite Emil and crossed her legs. “So what is the doctorate in?”

“Actually, there’s several, but my research right now is directed towards cybernetics and neural net expansion.”

Kat saw that there were many layers to this complex man hidden beneath the charming and affable exterior.

“In that case I’m certain Chariscarpia would love to speak with you.”

“And I with her,” he smiled, “though I get the feeling that you’re probably more eager to proceed to the main reason for my visit.”

Kat placed her glass on the table between them. “Actually you’re right though to be honest it’s to stop my head spinning from the implications as much as anything else!”

Emil laughed out loud at that. “Oh you wouldn’t be the first person to go mad trying to work out the paradoxes of time travel Kat, believe me.”

“I assume I’m allowed to ask questions without being told the answer is classified?”

He became serious once more and sat forward to rest his hands on his knees.

“Actually, nothing that I have to tell you today is public knowledge. The only people aware of it are Captain Fishlock, the three members of his crew and me.” The look of total bafflement on Kat’s face was enough to prompt him to continue. “Kat, I have to ask for your word as a Starfleet officer that my identity in this matter is kept totally anonymous. That’s not an ultimatum by the way it’s an honest request.”

“What if it contradicts my duties as a Starfleet officer Emil? What then?”

“I can see no reason that it would, but trust me I wouldn’t dream of compromising your position.” He waited patiently while Kat mulled it over. Quiet moments passed until she nodded.

“With that coda, you have my word Emil.”

“That’s enough for me, thank you.” He sat back and sipped at his drink once more before speaking again. “Some of the things I have to tell you may seem bizarre to say the least Kat, but they are all verifiable by your ships library. The only fact that won’t be in there is the one that confirms Captain Fishlock’s return to the 23rd Century.”

“You mean his eventual return from where he is now?” Kat was starting to flounder already.

“Yes, although in a historical perspective he returned to his own time over 300 years ago.”

“Yep, I’m lost.” Kat moved her glass to one side of the table and placed a small starship model at the opposite side. “Let’s assume that the starship is us in 2371 and the glass is Dan in…”

“2053” supplied Emil.

Kat looked at him for a moment, the year striking a chord of quiet alarm.

“2053 then. Just expand on what you were saying please?”

“I realise its difficult, don’t worry. From our perspective Captain Fishlock is still effectively trapped in this period because he has yet to reappear here correct?”

Kat nodded. “With you so far.”

“However to the perspective of anybody who was here,” he indicated the 2053 glass, “he has indeed successfully returned because they witnessed it.” He paused momentarily. “Or at least one person did.”

“Is that person’s recollection on record Emil?” Kat had finally got her head around the concept of temporal perspective, and was now excited that there would be a record in the archives that would point to a possible rescue resolution for Dan.

“Not exactly Kat.” Again that slight pause before he said, “You see that person was me. I was there when Dan escaped.”


THE CARIBOU CLUB
SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 1905 CST (5th January 2026 - 0105 UTC)

Green had dropped Beverly Martin off at her house the previous evening and given her his number. There had been no invitation to come into her large and very expensive looking townhouse and no more than a peck on the cheek by way of thanks.

Strangely, the demure way in which she had said thank you and promised to call had done nothing to deter Green at all. Quite the opposite. He’d determined that if she didn’t call within the week, he’d call round to her place himself, though it had transpired that that wouldn’t be necessary.

At lunchtime, she’d called him to offer her thanks once again and said by way of appreciation it would be her treat to see a film this evening if he was free. To be honest, even if he hadn’t been he would have done whatever necessary to make sure he was.

When she arrived at the Caribou Club, she was dressed quite simply in jeans and a white sweater. It did nothing to hide her attractive curves and it seemed that every male head in the place turned to watch her walk up to Green and hug him like an old friend.

“Sorry I’m late,” she gasped, “I couldn’t find anywhere to park!”

“You should have let me pick you up; it wouldn’t have been a problem really.”

“Nonsense,” she laughed, taking his hands in hers and inflating his ego even further. “I told you, tonight is my treat so I’ll hear no more about it ok?”

He certainly wasn’t going to argue and making an obvious show of resignation he’d smiled. “Ok you’re the boss, but I get to buy the popcorn.”

As they’d left the club, the same swarthy man from the previous evening watched them carefully until Martin’s Lexus had pulled away. Once again, he took out his cell phone, this time dialling a different number and hanging up before it answered. As he too left the club, he slipped the sim card from the cell and dropped it in a nearby waste basket before walking off into the night.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 6 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 6 (cont)


SECURE NATIONAL COMMAND POST 4
CHEESMAN LAKE
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST
COLORADO, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 2008 MST (5th January 2026 - 0308 UTC)

Over the past twenty four hours the news had been full of reports from all twenty five cities in the US with interviews from emergency crews, grieving relatives and in one case, even a hot dog salesman who swore he’d seen one of the WMDs explode. Fortunately, Greensboro had not appeared once. Her own speech to the nation had been rebroadcast and critiqued endlessly by the pundits though the general consensus had been that she definitely appeared to be a President in control. She only wished she felt that way.

Right now there had been nothing but silence from China which was worrying in itself. Calls from the EU were demanding immediate action to curtail the Chinese threat and seemed equally divided between sanctions and military action. The Middle Eastern states had weighed in with variations on “aggressive US actions” that totally ignored China’s pre-emptive strikes while laying heavy emphasis on their own sabre rattling.

And amidst all this, her mind continually crept back to the fate of five servicemen and two Chinese nationals who even now were still at risk as they made their way to safety.

She pulled the big, comfy and well worn dressing gown tightly around her. As always, just for one brief moment, she thought she could smell Michael’s cologne on it. Then the moment passed and with it came the same sense of loneliness and melancholy that had been a constant companion since his death three years ago.

The lunatic who had tried to assassinate her just three weeks after her inauguration had taken the one thing that could never be replaced; Michael. She’d been bundled to the ground just a few feet away from where her husband lay fatally wounded and she had screamed to be allowed near him though she didn’t remember that. Every time she recalled the event now, it was in slow motion silence.

She remembered seeing birds taking to the air from nearby trees, the feet and legs of the secret service agents as they huddled round, even a small paper American flag that had been dropped in the commotion. But most of all she remembered Michael’s face as he’d reached out to her, blood from his chest pooling around his body as a paramedic tried unsuccessfully to staunch it. His lips had formed the words “I love you” before his eyes had closed forever.

“Mom?”

Madeline rubbed quickly at her tear stained face, but her oldest daughter Rebecca had already seen. Saying nothing, she wrapped her arms around her mother and for a while they both wept in virtual silence, the tears cathartic in their cleansing way.

After some while, Rebecca sat up and unceremoniously blew her nose.

“Dad would be so proud of you Mom, you know that don’t you?”

Madeline smiled sadly as she squeezed Rebecca’s hand.
“Just as he’s proud of you and little Jennifer hon.”

Rebecca laughed in the midst of her sniffles. “One of the metro drivers was teaching Jen how to drive the train today. Apparently that’s what she wants to be when she grows up now.”

“So she’s changed her mind about being a pilot then?” It seemed that every new experience forced the five year old to re-evaluate her future career plans until she would declare in wide eyed seriousness, “That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“Looks that way.” Rebecca rubbed at her eyes as she said, “She’s sleeping now but Hannah said she’d keep an eye on her.”

Madeline looked closely at her eldest daughter. At seventeen, she was on the verge of moving from teenager to beautiful young woman. In her face she could see an echo of Michael; his dark brown eyes and the dimples that always gave away when he was lying.

“How are you holding up hon?”

“Scared I guess but no more than anybody else.” When she turned to face her mother, it was the young woman and not the teenager who spoke. “What happened Mom? Why the attack? China had backed our defence of South Korea and denounced the North. I thought we were on the verge of something new?”

With a sigh that she felt had escaped from her very soul, Madeline shook her head. “We’re still trying to find out. China’s about the only country not speaking at the moment, and until they do we have no way of knowing.” She grinned wryly. “You trying to steal your Mom’s job?”

“Ha! Fat chance.” Rebecca stood and walked over to the fireplace over which was hung a huge family portrait. “’Night Dad.” She blew a kiss before returning to hug Madeline. “I’m going to finish my report then turn in. You should do the same.”

Madeline laughed at her daughter’s tone. “Yes Ma’am.”

Shaking her head, Rebecca blew another kiss to her mother and returned to her own room leaving Madeline in silence once more.

She looked over at the portrait longingly. “I so need you now Michael Everett.” This time as she pulled the dressing gown around her, she wept for some time.


CINEMARK TINSELTOWN
MILLICENT WAY
SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 2138 CST (5th January 2026 - 0338 UTC)

They’d left the cinema after watching one of the corniest sci-fi movies that Green could ever remember seeing but it had been fun. That was something his life hadn’t been in a long time. It seemed that most of his dates usually ended up with a drunken night in bed that ended with a hangover and embarrassed goodbyes in the morning.

They’d spent a little time just walking and talking after that. Nothing deep and meaningful, just enjoying the air. It was as they approached the Lexus before heading home that the mugger struck. His first blow knocked Green head first into the car causing an explosion of stars behind his eyes before a kick took the wind from his lungs.

He saw the man – big, mean and obviously drunk by the stench of him – grab Beverly and push her against the car throwing aside her small purse. As it bounced across the parking lot, Green saw its contents scatter on the ground, and amongst them was a small pistol.

Painfully he clawed his way over to where it lay and chambered a round before shakily pointing the pistol at the thug.

“Stop it! Stop it now you bastard!” he screamed. The attacker turned and leered at Green while making sure that he kept Beverly pinned to the car.

“You wouldn’t dare college boy. Come on, big fat target like me?”

Green’s hand shook but he couldn’t pull the trigger, and the thug laughed.

“Didn’t think so. Go run home and get daddy to buy you one that works.”

Perhaps it was the mention of his father; perhaps it was just that Green finally found some back bone. Either way, he pulled the trigger again and again until the magazine was empty and the thug fell forward across the bonnet and Beverly.

In a blind panic he jumped to his feet and frantically pushed the dead weight of the man off of Beverly and on to the floor. He grabbed her hand to pull her upright but found that she too fell to the floor, two bright red growing flowers of blood growing obscenely in the front of her white jumper.

His mind screamed in denial that he’d killed both of them as he’d fired the pistol in blind anger. He looked at the still smoking weapon in horror and before his mind could interject, he found himself fleeing from the scene and hastily pushing the pistol into his pocket.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! NO!” His mind screamed for him to stop and call the police. He could explain it. They’d see it was an accident! But his legs had become disconnected from any message his brain was trying to send and he continued running long into the night.

Back at the parking lot, the attacker slowly turned his head and when he was sure that Green wasn’t about to return, picked himself up.

“He’s gone, you can wake up now.”

Beverly Martin rose from the dead and quickly removed the white jumper and the waistcoat that had contained the special effects squibs.

“I don’t know which was worse, expecting to spend the night with the creep or having you breathe fumes all over me. You seemed to enjoy that way too much.”

She threw the stained jumper and waistcoat into the boot of the car where the fake blood wouldn’t matter and then quickly climbed into the driver’s seat. “So are you coming or what?”

The man laughed coarsely as he too threw his own jacket and waistcoat into the car before climbing in beside her.
“I’d say mission accomplished there.”

“Yeah well you’d better let Raven know it’s in motion, we need to head out.”

The woman who was no longer Beverly Martin pulled the Lexus out of the parking lot and headed in the opposite direction to that taken by Green and being careful not to exceed the speed limit headed out of Shreveport. The man beside her meanwhile waited for the number he’d dialled to answer and simply said “You have control” before hanging up.


TEAM LEOPARD
BOHAI SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 1150 China Standard Time (0350 UTC)

The weather had continued to remain Team Leopard’s ally as they had made their slow way towards the Bo Hai Strait. The wind had been from astern and sailing in the wake of the big container vessel had helped too.

Only once so far had they seen any sign of the PLAN and that was merely as a passing shadow this morning. What appeared to have been an elderly coastal patrol vessel had passed in the opposite direction with no challenge.

The snow had continued to fall and though the sea had remained relatively calm, they had had to take it in shifts to both steer the vessel and go out on deck to clear the ice which kept forming. It was a cold and dangerous job and by now they were all feeling the strain. Sleep was snatched when time was available and Dong had now switched to the auxiliary fuel tank that had been fitted in the forward part of the fish hold.

Mitchell was on the small bridge with Liu as they approached the strait, a steaming mug of black coffee in his hands. It was the stimulant of the caffeine he needed more than the warmth but was grateful for both.

“Alec.” Liu had rarely used his first name which instantly brought Mitchell back to the present. “Over there is the Liaodong Peninsula.” He pointed out to port although the ever present fog and snow hid any sign of the distant coast. “I think it is time to make our move.”

Over the past hour they had slowly drifted out to starboard and increased their speed so that now they were in a position to move up into the lee of the huge vessel ahead.
Mitchell nodded. “You’re the boss Liu. I’ll let them know below decks.”

Slipping from the compact bridge, he had to avoid sliding on the ice slicked deck and managed to catch himself on the handle of the hatch leading down to the crew room. In an emergency he could have used the small short range radios they all carried, but until such time as an emergency arose they were operating under EMCON or Emissions Control. Essentially a military condition in which electromagnetic emissions were restricted to help avoid electronic detection, Mitchell simply wanted to keep their heads down as long as possible.

Once again, the seals to the hatch had frozen so he rapped against it with the large metal bar they had hung beside the door before returning to the bridge once more.

Already the huge slab side of the container vessel rose way above the tiny fishing boat and Liu was keeping the Pearl close enough to prevent detection from the New Dawn’s crew and remain in the large ship’s radar shadow. At the same time he also had to keep far enough away to avoid the occasional fall of large sheets of ice from the vessel’s side, a delicate act of piloting that Mitchell didn’t envy.

Levin stepped into the bridge preceded by an icy blast of cold air. Mitchell almost laughed realising he’d only been able to identify his explosives specialist by the large red nose that peeked out from the multiple layers of wrappings that Levin insisted he needed.

Muffled as his voice was by the clothing, there was no hiding the joy in his voice.

“Arnold just got a message from Uncle Ho. Apparently he sends his regrets that he won’t be able to come in person but Su Lin will be coming out with our brothers!”

Mitchell had no idea who or what Su Lin might actually be, but the mention of brothers indicated that a SpecOps team would be with them.

Before he had a chance to reply to Levin though, he heard the steady thrum of the New Dawn’s engines, which had so far been a constant companion, increase in pitch and the mighty vessel began to pull away from them. Liu boosted their own speed to maintain the cover of the large ship for as long as possible, but after 20 minutes or so it became apparent that they could no longer keep up.

“That’s it then,” said Levin. “Naked as a co-ed at Mardi Gras.”

Mitchell turned to Levin with a grimace. “Arnold’s been teaching you humour again right?”

Levin shrugged, although it was difficult to tell under the layers of clothing.

“Best I go speak to Uncle Ho about his ill mannered nephews.” Before he left the bridge he placed a hand on Liu’s shoulder. “Nice work by the way.”

“I told you,” grinned Liu, “it’s been done before.”

 

[Gibraltar]

Some more terrific character moments as the inevitable cataclysm approaches.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 7

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 7


YANGLIUQING
XIQING DISTRICT
TIANJIN
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 1230 China Standard Time (0430 UTC)

Even though the gathered members of the Chinese government would not be able to see more than his silhouette, Chimera fastidiously prepared himself for his speech to the remaining members.

Apparently two of them had been caught directly in the blast from the Beijing weapon as they had been making their way to the Great Hall of the People while three more were terminally ill with radiation poisoning. It was a situation that Chimera regretted and knew deep in his soul that it could have been avoided. His atonement would come, of that he was certain.

The remaining members who he would speak to today were all well aware just how beneficial Chimera’s guidance had been over the past few years as China had crept out from under the shadow of Communist rule. Its economy had boomed and its international reputation had been rising until the fool Huo had acted unilaterally and plunged them into the crisis that now existed.

Of course as China had prospered, so should its people have but inept and often corrupt leadership had meant that in many cases the poor had remained so while the wealthy had increased their fortune, a situation that Chimera had been unwilling to tolerate.

His message to those within the new government had been simple. Anybody who placed personal wealth or power above that of their people was ill placed to govern. With the exception of Huo and one other, he had been surprised when his statement had been met with a quiet acceptance and in some cases a call for change.

Huo had naturally paid the price for his own lust for power and the other government member, Yang Bin, had been arrested following the discovery that aid money promised to an earthquake relief fund had been secreted in a personal bank account.

Since that time, Chimera had worked from the top down to eradicate any sign of corruption in government bodies that threatened the people he was trying to elevate. He had wrestled many times with his own personal demons over this however. After all he wasn’t their elected leader and nor did he wish to be. This had never been about attaining a personal position of power. Nonetheless, Chimera now had that power without the position even though it would never be known to the world.

One question continually nagged at his mind however; what was the difference between a benevolent anonymous guide and a warlord whose own megalomania had convinced them that they were only doing what they did for their people? An image of Khan Noonien Singh sprang to his mind and he shuddered to think that he would become so engrossed in his power that he would become the man he had come to despise.

A small chime announced that his encrypted link to the new government building on the northern outskirts of Beijing was being processed. The state of the art equipment he used would prevent any easy tracking of the multi-routed signal and he composed himself in the basement of his small townhouse.

When at last the screen cleared, he saw that the remaining government members were gathered quietly in the state room awaiting his call. It was a room that reflected the best of China as a nation without resorting to ostentatious frippery, a sign to any who saw it that this was China’s future.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for gathering at such short notice.” His Mandarin was impeccable as he spoke to them, so much so that not one of them would have guessed that his place of birth had not been China at all. “Following the death of President Huo, it now requires us to inaugurate a new leader. A power vacuum at this time would seriously undermine all the gains that you as a government have made for the people of China.”

He saw several small nods at that and was pleased with the reaction.

“However, you have all been honest and open enough to admit that as individuals you are not suited to the task of leadership and I respect that honesty. It is, perhaps, the ultimate test of a person’s integrity that they can admit their own limits rather than assume a mantle of power to which they are incompatible.” This is the moment of truth he thought.

“You all know that I have always done my best to provide you that which best serves China, whether it is guidance, information or indeed financial aid. This I have done willingly and with the satisfaction that this country has benefitted and grown strong from such provision. President Huo’s rash actions have caused us all to be faced now with a decision.”

There was a stir amongst the group. It was obvious from their faces that each one had wondered about the next step and whether Huo had committed them to a war that they all had counselled was unwinnable.

“In order to prevent the power vacuum that a lack of leadership would inevitably cause, my daughter has agreed to bring forward the schedule and assume leadership of the government at your discretion.” There was no sense of shock as this had been discussed many times before; it was simply a case that the timetable had now been advanced. “The important thing is that you are all agreed on this necessity. I have never in all my years of service to your government made demands or used my honoured position to force events, and this remains true today. I wish you to go away and decide as a true government should, that this represents China’s best hope. There is no shame in reasoned dissension and I will naturally abide by your wishes with no forfeiture of my support, but you must act quickly and decisively if you are to prevent the loss of China’s standing in the world’s eyes.”

He paused momentarily to consider his next words. The men and women before him were intelligent and reasoned people, not the bloated bureaucrats of years gone by and he trusted them to make the right decision.

“For the sake of all that you have brought to fruition, make your decision wisely and swiftly, because we now stand at the crossroads of China’s future. Thank you.”

The screen went dark and the chime sounded to say that the link had been terminated. He would genuinely abide by their decision, even if it meant that Juan did not become leader of this government. But should the decision go against her today, he could no longer remain as adviser and counsellor to them because he honestly believed that China would not survive.


UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
MAPLE RIDGE AREA
GREENSBORO
NORTH CAROLINA, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 2350 EST (5th January 2026 – 0450 UTC)

When Greensboro’s alleged bomber, Chey Heng, had been arrested and bundled into a police cruiser much had been made of the fact that he was to be transported and held at the Guilford County Sheriff's Office on West Washington Street. Nothing could have been further from the truth however, because the man who was carried stumbling out of the factory with a blanket over his head was in fact a CIA agent.

The real Chey Heng had been taken via a loading bay at the back of the factory to an unmarked van and transported to the outskirts of Greensboro by a CIA team. The small industrial unit in the Maple Ridge Area, close to the boundaries of the Piedmont Triad International Airport was now under constant surveillance as Chey Heng was interrogated.

At first he had been treated well; his injuries had been tended to and offers of clemency in any forthcoming trial were made. Each attempt to coerce information from the man however had been met with silence.

Agent Angelina Martinez was now sat in the dimly lit room with the man and had been sat silently watching him for almost thirty minutes. While she had barely moved, Heng had now begun to fidget. She’d played the game many times before but never with such a fanatic as this man seemed to be. In fact she’d never had a suspect last beyond 22 minutes until now.

The other agents, with orders not to enter the room at all, had watched on the CCTV in amazement as the Langley based woman continued to sit and stare at the terrorist. They were as shocked as the terrorist when, without warning, she quickly stood and Heng shot back in his chair, his eyes wide and a growing dark patch in the crotch of the coveralls he was wearing.

Martinez looked at him then left the room maintaining her silence and not bothering to look back. It was only when she closed the door behind her that she slumped against the wall and ended up squatting on the floor of the corridor.

A strong arm hooked underneath hers and lifted her to her feet. She knew instinctively it was Marty Harrison and leaned against him as he led her into an adjoining room where he sat her down and brought a mug of coffee over.

“It’s happened,” he said quietly. “Just had the call, a suicide bomber took out the County Sheriff's Office.”

She took a sip of the hot strong brew before closing her eyes. “When’s this madness gonna stop Marty?”

The quiet and unassuming black agent straddled a chair backwards and rubbed at his eyes. “Who knows? It’s obvious that somebody’s desperate to keep this guy quiet though, which plays right into our hands. They think he’s gone and we know he’s not.” He looked at the weary face of his colleague. “Think he’ll talk?”

She shrugged, the movement seeming to take more energy than she had left.

“He’s scared now that’s for sure. The problem is, who is he more scared of?”

Her eyes flicked to the CCTV monitor where Heng was still seated, looking wildly around the room. When she placed the mug on the table, Harrison helped her to her foot knowing it was time for round two.

“You gonna hack this?” Harrison had seen the bone tired expression in her eyes and knew what toll this was taking on his partner.

“Given a choice I’d be on holiday Marty,” she grinned. “Come on.”

When she re-entered the room, all signs of tiredness were gone and Heng looked at her in obvious terror. She took a seat at the table, placed a manila folder squarely in front of her and then smiled at the man.

“Now, Mr Heng, what we’re going to do is have a conversation where I ask you a question and you answer it. The rules are quite simple. Answer truthfully and this will all be over very quickly; lie and I promise that you will remember every second of your time in this room until you die.”

The short speech had been delivered in the same tone of voice that a teacher might use to a class of kindergarten children, but the look in her eyes was one of malice and intent.

“Whether I tell you the truth or lies, I am already a dead man so why should I care?”

There was no bravado in Heng’s voice, merely resignation and Martinez knew she had him.

“In actual fact you’re right, you are dead…” She let the unfinished sentence hang for a moment before continuing. “At least as far as the rest of the world knows.”

She watched as his head slumped to his chest imagining that this was the end for him.

“Ten minutes ago we received a report that a suicide bomber had attacked and destroyed the Guilford County Sheriff's Office where you were supposedly being held.” He looked up in shock. “That’s right, nobody knows that you’re here, so as far as your ‘sponsors’ are concerned, you’re a finished job. We, on the other hand, know differently don’t we?”

“They tried…to kill me?”

Martinez let the information simmer for a few silent moments. She was amazed that a man could be willing to sacrifice his life in an explosion of his own making, but be shocked that somebody had then tried to kill him.

“They will find out that I am alive. These are not…” He stopped the comment before it reached his lips.

“Oh we’re well aware they’re not amateurs, but then neither are we.” She leaned forward in her seat and looked directly into his eyes. “The only way they could possibly find out you were still alive is if you lied to me one more time.”

Within half an hour, the broken man’s confession was complete.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 7 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 7 (cont)


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 2327 CST (5th January 2026 - 0527 UTC)

Green had run for what seemed like hours and was now totally lost. Every time he had seen a police cruiser he had slowed to a walk knowing that any second they could stop alongside and arrest him. Stupidly he still had the pistol in his pocket but was terrified to dispose of it because he simply didn’t know how to remove all traces of his DNA from it.

Again, part of his mind was demanding that he turn himself in and that the police would understand it had all been a horrifying accident.

So why did I run away? Hardly the actions of an innocent man?

But anybody would have panicked under the circumstances wouldn’t they?

Possibly…no, no they’d have dialled 911! Damnit that’s what I should have done…

The vibration of the cell phone in his pocket stilled his internal argument. Taking it out and opening the cover revealed a picture message had arrived from an unknown number. When he opened it the text read, “You’ve had a busy night Lieutenant Green, we’ll be in touch.”

If his mind had frozen at the text constant, it lost all grip on rational thought as he scrolled down to see a picture of two pale and fatally wounded bodies lying side by side as if in a mortuary. Their faces were instantly identifiable as Martin and the thug and in disgust he saw that the bullet wounds had now blackened into ugly blotches.

“…we’ll be in touch…”


USS BLACKWELL
LAKE KHOVSGOL
NORTHERN MONGOLIA
EARTH
5th April 2053 – 0631 UBT (4th April 2053 – 2231 UTC)

Up above the surface of Lake Khovsgol the sun had risen in a crystal blue sky and had the world not been poised on the brink of war, tourists would have been gasping in amazement at the natural beauty of the 135 kilometre long lake and its perfect setting. Instead, silence reigned over the almost primeval forests that stood like centuries old guardians around its shores and every so often there would be the sharp crack of fracturing ice.

In the deep, clear waters below the surface, Homer was once again tuning the passive sensor scan of the surrounding area. Unlikely as it was that foot soldiers could have reached them this quickly they were now alert for the possibility of aerial reconnaissance.

Distant returns had shown that craft were flying on both sides of the border but seemed at the moment to be more interested in each other than in their arrival. Further away still he had detected the electronic emissions of a large surveillance aircraft flying in a race track pattern inside Mongolian airspace.

To the south were further concentrations of troops and armour as well as several large and recent constructions. Whatever they were, for the moment they were silent but Homer decided that a search through the runabouts historical library should be his next task.

“Still no interest from our friends above surface?”

Homer turned to see Dan stretching and yawning as he entered the cockpit.

“Nothing yet Sir. I’d like to get into the library when I’ve finished here, see if I can pull up any information that might have survived after the war about the actions that took place in this area.”

“Good idea,” Dan agreed as he checked the systems panel. “Have we figured out any way to get a scan out far enough to detect whether the anomaly is still open?”

It was a problem that Homer had been wrestling with for some while. Without knowing exactly what a long range scan would do to local monitoring stations either on the ground or in the air, he’d been reluctant to push the sensor power too high. Even in passive mode, he still wasn’t happy that their emissions wouldn’t be detected.

“Still working on it Sir.”

Misaki entered the cockpit carrying two steaming mugs of coffee and handed them to Dan and Homer.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Captain Martello has been pestering me since he woke up to be allowed to have a full fried breakfast,” she smiled.

Because of his body’s ill treatment when under control of the parasite, Misaki had suggested he wait before going overboard on rich foods or risk upsetting his system.

“So what’s the prognosis?”

Smiling slightly embarrassedly, Misaki said, “Sir you have to realise that I am a combat medic. Later today I’ll be attempting to remove what I can of the parasite’s remains and after that perhaps I will have a better idea.”

“Well at least for the time being, you’re the most advanced surgeon on Earth,” laughed Homer.

Dan rolled his eyes and Misaki chuckled as she continued.
“The work to remove the remains is not difficult but delicate so I will need to perform some more in depth scans before I begin.”

“Will they have caused any damage?” Dan had only seen the results of his tricorder scan back aboard the Leech and was afraid that several of the splinters had come very close to what it had classed as nerve junctions.

“It is a little like repairing battle damage to a shuttle actually Sir.”

“Oh that would impress Captain Martello no end” replied Homer. At a slow look from Dan he quickly turned back to his panel.

“What I meant Sir was,” continued Misaki undeterred, “imagine that a piece of shrapnel had embedded itself into part of the ODN cabling. If not removed carefully, it would be quite possible for the severed ends of the cables to cross route causing damage in other systems. That is what I have to avoid.”

“Alright,” nodded Dan, “let me know when you’re starting the procedure. What we really need to do as soon as possible is work out a way of leaving here without polluting the timeline.”

And he realised it had to be soon because if they didn’t they may well not be getting out at all.


SECURE NATIONAL COMMAND POST 4
CHEESMAN LAKE
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST
COLORADO, USA
EARTH
4th January 2026 – 2300 MST (5th January 2026 - 0600 UTC)

When she awoke it was to a loud shrilling, a pain down her left side and confusion as to where she might be. Finally, as her mind arose from the fog of sleep Everett realised that she had fallen asleep curled up in the chair and the shrilling was the phone on the small table beside her. Reaching out painfully, she lifted the receiver to her ear and managed to mumble her name.

“Madam President?” She didn’t immediately recognise the voice but there was concern in it. “Is everything alright?”

“Sorry, yes, I was sleeping.”

She stood awkwardly, a spasm of cramp in her side making her wince.

“Ma’am it’s the duty officer. We’ve just received a communiqué from China.”

Everett was instantly awake, though the pain in her ribs persisted.

“Give me the gist of it.”

There was a rustle of paper and she could hear voices in the background before the officer replied.

“Short and sweet Ma’am. It simply states that there will be a statement from the new president of the Eastern Coalition of Nations at 14.00 hours Beijing Time which would be…” There was a pause as he checked the row of clocks above his desk. “Midnight Ma’am, an hour from now.”

What the hell is the Eastern Coalition of Nations? she wondered. “Very well, alert the A list and have Miss Jefferies come straight up please.”

“On it Madam President.”

Everett replaced the handset and quickly made her way through to the bedroom, massaging her sore ribs and showered quickly before selecting a dark business suit. Hannah Jefferies had arrived by the time she was almost ready. It was 23.35 hours.

“Who do we have Hannah?”

The alerted A list was a selection of main players and advisors that would automatically be summoned at such times as events of national security required. In different times, the people on it would have to be brought in from their homes and make the journey into the Whitehouse but as most of those people were now present here at SNCP4, that problem was averted.

“All attending Ma’am, with the exception of General Ruckman. He’s still out at Offutt Air Force Base.”

“Alright thank you Hannah. Is there anything else?” Everett slipped on the dark blue jacket making sure that the Presidential lapel pin was straight and stepped towards the door.

“Director Campbell has an update on Greensboro Ma’am, other than that just the morning brief.”

Her hand paused on the door handle wondering just what the CIA had found out in Greensboro, and for a moment her eyes drifted once again to the family portrait above the fireplace.

“Tell the Director to meet me in the annexe to the Office immediately, I’ll take his brief before the China call.”

Jefferies dashed off to organise the meeting as Everett strode purposefully down the corridor towards the lift preceded and followed by agents of the Presidential Security Detachment. By the time she arrived at the ersatz Oval Office, Campbell was waiting by the door for her.

As they strode through, Everett saw the camera crews confirming the links to the discrete transmitters before entering the adjoining room that didn’t exist in the real Whitehouse. When she left that office a few minutes later, her lips were pressed together in a grim line that barely contained the fury she felt, none of which she could allow to show to this new president.

She instructed Campbell to convene a meeting directly after she had finished then sat in her chair to have the microphone discretely attached and makeup applied.

At precisely midnight, the screen in the office changed from the Presidential seal to show a flag that closely resembled that of the People’s Republic of China but with subtle differences. A voice in Mandarin stated that there would now be a statement by the incoming President of the Eastern Coalition of Nations, President Lee Juan, all quickly translated via her earpiece.

When the flag faded it revealed a striking woman who could have been aged anywhere between her late twenties and early forties. The second surprise for Everett came when she spoke in unaccented English.

“I stand before you today as the new pro-tem leader of the alliance known as the Eastern Coalition of Nations. Elections will take place to officially appoint a president as soon as possible but it has fallen to me, in the aftermath of the destruction caused in the past days, to make this statement.”

Everett’s eyes flicked to Carmel who was studying this new world leader intensely.

“The previous President of the People’s Republic of China, Mr Huo Zhou, proceeded in a manner completely unapproved by the members of his government and people and the shame for that action falls upon all of us who did not act in time to prevent it. The act of retaliation was premeditated and equally horrific. While some may see justification in this retaliatory strike, it is my honour sworn duty to state to you that as of 1500 hours Beijing Time, a state of war exists between the Eastern Coalition of Nations and any country that continues to support the United States of America in their prosecution of action against us.”

Everett felt her stomach lurch at the comment. My God, war.

“ECoN has no intention of making further strikes against any nation unless in self defence, but it should be noted that territories formerly taken from us will now be reclaimed, by armed force if necessary. Only a madman would instigate nuclear war and there are no more of those In Beijing, but we will be prepared to unleash such weapons should the imminent destruction of our alliance warrant it.”

Crossing her right hand over her left, she made the smallest of bows before the screen faded to be replaced by what Everett now knew was the ECoN flag.

The head of the communications team spoke quietly when he said “Madam President, the link has been terminated.”

At 06.00 hours UTC on the 5th January 2026, World War III had officially begun.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 8

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 8


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0008 CST (0608 UTC)

By the time that Green crashed through his apartment door his lungs were bursting and his mind refused to function other than to scream the blindingly obvious at him.

Somebody knows and they have my number! They know what I’ve done!

Running into the small bathroom, he was violently and continually sick, the stench of the act provoking worse bouts until all that remained was dry heaving. In all his life he had never felt so scared or so helpless and knew that he had nobody to blame but himself. He’d run away when he should have reported the event to the police. It was his own fault and yet in cowardly desperation he sought to shift the blame. The thug should never have attacked them! Martin should never have dressed so provocatively! It was she who had suggested they walk rather than return home!

The insistent ringing of his cell phone brought him back to the present yet he couldn’t bring himself to go back into the apartment to answer it. It’s them! When the phone stopped he bit back a sob but was instantly panicked when it began ringing again.

Slowly he crawled into the living room and looked at where the phone lay casting light into the darkened room. It was within reach and yet he didn’t pick it up.

“Leave me alone!” he screamed on the verge of mental collapse, and once again the phone fell to silence. It was only when it began ringing again that anger took him and he snatched it from the table. In hindsight the next moments were either the luckiest or unluckiest of his life, and he would never truly know which.

Just before he answered the phone and began screaming obscenities that would have damned him as easily as a confession, he saw that the number that had been attempting to call him was Barksdale Air Force Base’s communications centre and his thumb hovered over the connect button. Finally he pressed it and in slow motion raised the phone to his ear.

“Green.”

“Lieutenant Green, is that you?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak yet managed an incoherent mumble when he recognised the voice of the duty desk sergeant.

“Sir, erm, sorry to interrupt but this is an Operation Cleaver recall notice.”

Green heard the recall prefix and perhaps even understood it, but couldn’t speak.

“Lieutenant Green, Sir, I say again, this is an Operation Cleaver recall notice. I require your response Sir.”

There was definite edge in the sergeant’s voice now and Green managed to stumble his way through the correct response.

“Thank you Sir, do you have an ETA? Colonel Eddington is requiring one from all recall staff.”

“I, erm…” Green fumbled at his watch before replying. “Could you advise him at least an hour please Sergeant, sooner if I can.”

“Will do Sir.”

When the line went dead, Green fell into the armchair by the window unable to engage his legs. First the shootings, then the text message and now an Operation Cleaver recall. The prefix denoted that this was not an exercise and that nuclear operational planning staff were on standby for possible enemy action against the Continental United States.

Perhaps this will all be erased by another attack he thought abstractedly. One bright flash and then nothing to worry about. The bodies would be gone. His tormentors would be gone. He would be gone. Nothing to…

When the phone rang once more, his thumb instinctively jerked on the connect button and with a sense of horror he realised it was an unlisted number. He lifted it to his ear without speaking.

“Hurry, hurry, Lieutenant, you should be dressing for work you know.” The voice spoke English with a slight accent that he couldn’t place but he knew it was them.

“Who are you?” He wanted to scream it in anger but it came out weakly as if it were a plea.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough Lieutenant, really.”

The phone went dead and as it did so he heard a car pull away in the midnight quiet outside his apartment block. Green curled himself into a foetal ball and wept.


USS BLACKWELL
LAKE KHOVSGOL
NORTHERN MONGOLIA
EARTH
5th April 2053 – 1223 UBT (0423 UTC)

The clamshell of the medical arch closed over the head and upper body of Gabe Martello and Misaki quickly tapped commands into the medical interface. While the medical facility in the rear compartment of the Blackwell couldn’t match that of the Angel’s multiple suites, it was more than adequate to cover anything up to and including a major trauma incident.

Misaki grimaced slightly as she thought it is the medical staff that is somewhat under-qualified.

“Captain Martello, you should feel a slightly cold sensation in your neck and shoulders but this is nothing to worry about.” As the screen on top of the arch lit up, Misaki activated the stasis control that would prevent any movement of Gabe’s upper body. “Captain, could you just try and move your shoulders please?”

A muffled “Sorry, can’t do it” came from where Gabe had his head comfortably resting in the hole in the biobed as he lay face down.

“Good, that is as it should be.”

Pointing to the screen and its depiction of the parasite shards, Misaki turned to Dan. “The ones marked in green are those which appear not to have caused tissue or nerve damage and can be removed quite easily.”

It was obvious that the green parts, including the major section of the parasite’s body, easily outnumbered the red ones. “The others?”

“These are the ones that have actually penetrated close to the spinal column or nerve bundles including the head here which still seems to have fibrous connections into the spinal cord itself.” She turned to Dan and spoke so that Gabe could hear as well. “It is not impossible to remove these, simply time consuming.”

“I hope I get some nice scars to brag to my grandchildren about,” said Gabe.

Misaki smiled having taken a great liking to the Captain. He had spoken at length to her about his family and touchingly how he had resigned himself to perhaps never seeing them again.

“I am afraid not Sir. The pieces are actually removed with nano-transporter technology. My only intervention is the mending of the disrupted nerves and muscles, though I’m sure I could perhaps add some decorative…”

“No, that’s fine thank you Ensign,” he interrupted. “I get the feeling Captain Fishlock would get you to put something offensive where I couldn’t see it. No, I’ll make do with an invisible mend thanks.”

“Why does everybody always think the worst of me?” protested Dan with a smile. “I’ll leave you to it while I check with Lieutenant Richmond on his history survey. If you should need us, just call.”

As Misaki went to work, Dan made his way back into the command module of the runabout where Homer was hunkered over a screen reviewing the scant information that had survived the nuclear holocaust of 2053. He had to keep reminding himself that the historical facts that Homer was now reading hadn’t even happened yet.

“So is there anything there that might help us?”

Homer sighed as he sat up and stretched, his back popping audibly.

“Possibly Sir, but the records from this period are fairly fragmented. It’s difficult to know precisely which ones are genuine and which supposition.” He pointed at the document he’d just been reading. “It’s like this one here. Apparently Russian forces made a strike on an ECoN forward airfield on the 29th April, but as far as I can see these co-ordinates refer to an open area of steppe land that you couldn’t land a goose on.”

Dan could see the problem. So much had been destroyed when the world went mad on that day in May 2053 that preserving records had come way down the list when compared to the task of preserving the remnants of humanity.

The sudden chirp of an alarm at the system operator’s station made Dan jump until Homer pointed out it was an ECoN rotary wing that had been passing up and down on the far side of the mountain range that bordered the lake to the west.

“Doesn’t seem as if they’re looking for us though. They’ve never come this side of the peaks.”

Dan studied the layout of the country and noted that the section of Mongolia that harboured Lake Khovsgol was like a promontory that jutted out into Siberian territory. Tactically speaking, there was little in the way of strategic value in the area and it seemed that should the Russian army decide to push south, it would be an easy piece of land to encircle. Hopefully the Chinese commanders to the south east and south west felt the same way.

Sitting down at the operator’s console on the port side, Dan brought up the library computer interface. “Might as well chip in and educate myself while I’m at it.”

“Never one for history then Sir?”

“Not until I found myself living it Homer, no.” Living past it was the trick now.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 8 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 8 (cont)


SECURE NATIONAL COMMAND POST 4
CHEESMAN LAKE
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST
COLORADO, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0031 MST (0731 UTC)

Everett had convened the full A list meeting to discuss the ramifications of both Lee Juan’s statement and the CIA’s disturbing new discovery. At this most crucial of moments, she wasn’t sure which one now posed the greater threat.
As the door to the conference room slid shut and sealed, Everett called the meeting to order.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting will naturally discuss the strange turn of events in China but before we get to that, FBI Director Benfield has uncovered more details of the attack in Greensboro which I believe need our immediate attention. Thomas?”

Benfield stood and activated the briefing screen which displayed, side by side, images of Chey Heng and the weapon he had tried to detonate.

“Thank you Madam President. When this man was first taken into custody, we believed that he was simply one more link in the attacks that had occurred across our country. However, in the intervening time we have discovered that this is not the case.”

Heads turned in confusion around the table at his statement.

“Right now we have to check each of the 25 locations across the country for evidence of exactly which individual detonated each device and that will naturally have to be followed up by an intensive study of their histories to confirm the background of their recruitment. What we do know is that China, or ECoN as it now appears to be, admits their culpability for these acts albeit via a previous leader.”

He turned to face the room.

“In the case of Chey Heng, however, the ECoN was not his sponsor.”

Spinelli raised her hand as shocked whispers circulated the room.

“What about the weapon? I thought the provenance was clear.”

Benfield nodded and turned back to advance the screen to another slide which showed a close-up of the suitcase bomb. “There’s no doubt that the people who finally had possession of this device believed it to be genuine but there was never a chance that this weapon could detonate. The electronic components were authentic enough, but the weapon and casing were dummies. And thanks to the fast work of a particular agent,” Benfield declined to mention the CIA connection, “Chey Heng has confirmed that his sponsors were not from China.”

Confusion reigned and Benfield held up his hands to stem the tide of questions.

“Please, please, let me finish. You’ll find that most of your questions will be answered although we’re still investigating this.”

The room quietened once more and Benfield surveyed the confused and angry faces knowing that his next statement was only likely to worsen the situation.

“It would seem that Chey Heng was approached just two weeks ago by an agent from a militant Iranian splinter group calling itself The Sword of Iran. His entire family in Burma had allegedly been kidnapped and would be killed unless he delivered a message to the West that would not be forgotten.” He looked at Everett whose face gave away nothing of the turmoil she must have been feeling inside. “We’ve recovered a suicide video he made detailing all of the above. He was told that the death of the President’s children, who should have been in Greensboro at this time, would be a warning that no American child would be safe until the United States gave up its support of the State of Israel.”

All faces turned to Everett in shocked disbelief as she slowly stood. “Ignoring the personal aspect of this and the disgusting and cowardly threat to children, it has now served to muddy the waters about exactly how many more of these lunatics are inside our borders blackmailing innocents into being their personal assassins.” Leaning her hands on the table she studied each face intently with a look of disgust in her eyes. “Well not in my America!”

She slammed her hands on the table top causing most of those present to flinch. Madeline Everett had always been known for an even temper through most of the crises she had faced in her two terms in office, but it would appear that the line had been crossed.

“I refuse to enter a state of martial law to stop this because to my mind they’d like nothing more. But it will be stopped. Homeland Security and the FBI will work in concert with every law enforcement agency in this country to give me a plan to eradicate this threat as soon as possible. All other concerns become secondary to national security and the protection of the innocents.”

She clenched her fists tightly at her sides.

“When I took office, I swore that it was my duty to protect America and her citizens and I’ve failed in that task already. But as the buck has nowhere else to stop other than with me, I’m making it my business to rectify the issue.”

She stormed from the room, no longer able to control her emotions leaving stunned faces in her wake.


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0623 CST (1223 UTC)

Green had driven back from Barksdale Air Force Base in a worse state than he had driven out. Eddington had taken one look at him and dismissed him from the operations centre after Green had feebly tried to plead illness.

“You have until the start of your next shift to pull yourself together Green,” he’d said, “because right now you’re not worth a damn to this command or the Air Force. Now get out!”

He had sat in his car cursing every element of his life for his present predicament until the curious faces of passers by forced him into the drive home. Right now he was clinging on to the fabric of sanity by a very small edge.

Arriving at his apartment block, he left the car parked across two bays without even bothering to lock it as he stormed up the stairs intent on becoming blind drunk. Slamming open the apartment door he threw his kit bag into a corner where it upended a table.

“Temper, temper Lieutenant.”

Green span around in panic trying to spot the source of the instantly identifiable voice and saw a vaguely familiar man standing in the doorway to his kitchen holding two mugs of coffee.

“People will begin to wonder what the noise is.” The man’s voice was oily with contempt as he placed the mugs down on the small coffee table. “I suggest you close your door so we may talk in private.”

In a blur of motion, Green ducked behind the settee and pulled open the drawer of the bureau that stood behind it. In an increasing panic he groped inside dislodging most of its contents on to the floor but couldn’t find the pistol he’d hidden there.

“I assume,” said the man, “that you are looking for this.”

Green found that he couldn’t stand and hugged his knees to his chest, whimpering. He has the gun. He has the gun.

Without any apparent transition, the next thing he knew he was lying on the sofa feeling strangely relaxed. There on the table beside him was the pistol that he’d so frantically been searching for, yet he felt no urge to reach for it any more. Instead he lay perfectly still and listened as the man, who simply called himself Raven, explained that as long as Green was sensible, he could make his life take a turn for the better. The deaths of Martin and the thug would go away. His financial difficulties would be dealt with. He could even ensure that Green’s Air Force career got a boost.

All that Raven required in return was a little information here and there and everything would be taken care of.

Why not? What was life doing for him? Nothing! Green found himself nodding and smiling, his will totally subsumed by…what? He lost the train of thought before it even began, happy to remain in the warm and welcoming embrace of the multi coloured mists that appeared to swirl and surround him, dancing to the cadence of Raven's voice.. Why not indeed?

Green never even noticed when Raven left the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. He descended to the car park and climbed into a non-descript Chevrolet where the blonde that had been Martin awaited him.

“Tehran will be pleased to know that they have a new source of information,” he said.

“And you’re that certain he’ll be compliant.”

Smiling he started the car and placed it into gear. “He will be, though he doesn’t know it yet.”


TEAM LEOPARD
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2042 China Standard Time (1242 UTC)

The sea swell had picked up after they had entered the Yellow Sea though the temperature had raised enough to turn the persistent snow into a miserable sleet. The Pearl’s radar had picked up the occasional distant return of traffic as they had headed towards the coast of Korea, now at a reduced speed because of the sea conditions, but so far nothing that had proved a threat.

Heading almost directly east across the West Korea Bay, located at the north of the Yellow Sea, they were now praying that their luck would carry them into the arms of rescue. Of course they were totally unaware of the declaration of a state of war and were equally oblivious to the new ECoN alliance. It was these two facts that would shortly place them directly in the path of an ECoN fast patrol catamaran.


PLAN PATROL CRAFT SWIFTWIND
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2045 China Standard Time (1245 UTC)

The captain of the PLAN patrol craft Swiftwind, Captain Qui Lung, equally had no idea that he was heading towards a fishing vessel crewed by Special Forces operatives of course. His shift to a war footing had done little to change his mission other than to increase his vigilance and extend his area of responsibility.

The captaincy of this particular craft had fallen to him totally by accident when its intended commander had broken both legs in a car accident just one week before it sailed from the naval base of Qingdao. Lung wasn’t about to let this opportunity to impress slip away however. He had drilled the crew to such an extent that their combat readiness had in fact now deteriorated and yet he couldn’t see it. Suggestions from his second in command that the drills should be eased had been met with a stern lecture on his future with the People’s Liberation Army Navy.

“Captain, we have a return at bearing 046, range 52 kilometres.”

“Identify.” Lung stepped up behind the radar operator to peer over his shoulder though he took little notice of what the screen was telling him.

“Fishing vessel Sir, 25 metres in length, civilian radar and reflector.”

His executive officer stepped in to look at the scope with far more interest and a great deal more knowledge of what he was seeing.

“Quite common for these waters Sir. Should we hail it?”

Lung turned a haughty look on the man and made perhaps the worst choice of his naval career.

“No, we should not hail it Commander Jiang. We will investigate it as per our orders or had you forgotten?”

Jiang knew that their orders said nothing about investigating fishing vessels unless they had committed a breach of ECoN territorial waters. It was the larger vessels they were to police. However, he nodded politely knowing that the fool would simply make a scene and order the pursuit anyway.

“Yes Captain.” He turned to the helm about to issue the order but Lung barked out his command first.

“Helm, all ahead full. Sound battle stations.”

The Commander looked at Lung in abject disbelief and realised he could stay quiet no longer.

“Helm, belay that order!” He quickly turned to Lung.
“Captain, with all due respect we cannot proceed at full speed as I’m sure you are aware. The vessel’s capacity for cross wave transit has never been tested at that speed.”

Lung turned a look on Jiang that suggested the man might be something odorous he’d just trodden in.

“I do not expect my orders to be questioned Commander. This vessel is fully operational and quite capable of performing as I demand of it.”

Jiang bowed his head slightly in apparent submission and turned to the helm. Approaching the equally disbelieving helmsman he said quietly, “Whatever I order you will only select ahead three quarters, is that understood?”

With a look of relief, the helmsman merely faced the front as the Commander ordered all ahead full and the bow lifted.

Unlike single-hulled vessels that were powered by propellers, the catamaran's two hulls were driven by water jets, similar to those found on most jet skis but vastly more powerful giving the vessel a top speed of close to 40 knots. That, however, was in calm waters not the current swell of the Yellow Sea. Even with the three quarters power that had surreptitiously been applied, the catamaran was in imminent danger of being damaged as it broached the swells and the Commander knew it.

“Thank you Commander. I will speak with you later.”

If we’re still afloat by then, thought Jiang.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 9

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 9


TEAM LEOPARD
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2048 China Standard Time (1248 UTC)

“Leopard this is Greyhawk.”

When the HAVEQUICK radio burst into life, Mitchell nearly dumped the contents of his coffee mug down his front. Arnold guiltily squelched the volume and picked up the handset. When Mitchell nodded, he pressed the transmit button.

“Greyhawk, Leopard, authenticate. Zulu Tango Mike.”

There was a brief pause as Greyhawk checked their authentication code for the day and responded with, “Leopard, Greyhawk authenticates Delta Papa Papa.”

“Oh bring me home mama!” whispered Arnold as he turned to look at Mitchell. “She’s genuine Sir!”

Mitchell took the handset with a smile. “Greyhawk this is Leopard, I’m hoping you have some good news for us?”

“Affirmative Leopard, you’ve got help inbound at this time. However be advised you also have bandit traffic approaching your location bearing 134 degrees range 45 klicks. You’ll need to stall them because your lift is gonna be about ten minutes behind.”

Arnold’s smile faded and a look of determination crept into his face. Mitchell nodded at him. “Best tell the troops to saddle up, this might turn nasty.”

Arnold disappeared quickly from the bridge and Mitchell looked to Liu next. “Think you can come up with a reasonable excuse as to why we’re here?”

Liu slammed the throttles to all stop and shrugged. “It’s these damn engines we were testing. Bearings have failed again!”

“Will they buy it?”

Liu returned his smile as the engine roar died. “If not, then it is your turn to dissuade them Captain.”


USS ANGEL
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1522 FST

Kat sat for a moment wondering if she’d misheard Emil’s last statement.

“You were there?” Now fully adrift without a paddle in the confusing state of temporal affairs, she looked at Emil closely. “There physically or metaphorically? Or have you been zipping back and forth through time as well?”

Emil laughed though there was, to Kat’s mind, a definite sadness in it.

“I’m not a time traveller if that’s what you mean Kat. Though I have to confess I have certainly had quite a journey through time. Perhaps it’s best if I refer you to an official Starfleet report which might clarify matters.”

He turned the computer towards him and entered a search query before turning the screen back to Kat.

“This is the first part of the story.”

Kat watched and listened to the Captain’s log entry of one James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise dated Stardate 5843.8. In it he detailed how the Enterprise had entered standard orbit around the seemingly uninhabited planet Holberg 917-G in the Omega system.

Their mission was an unscheduled one in that the crew of the Enterprise were suffering an outbreak of Rigellian fever. Sensors had shown that the planet had deposits of ryetalyn ore which the Enterprise needed to create an antitoxin for the fever and accordingly a landing party had beamed down to investigate.

Far from being an uninhabited planet, it transpired that there was a sole occupant, (organic occupant at least), by the name of Flint.

Emil knew when Kat had reached the interesting part of the log entry as her eyebrows gradually and unconsciously began to rise.

It had transpired that Flint had retired to this solitary location in an attempt to live his life in seclusion, a life that had begun in Mesopotamia on Earth in the year 3834 BCE!

Having become a soldier in that period named Akharin, he had discovered on the battlefield that he was to all intents and purposes, immortal. Others around him died from their wounds while he had lived and quickly healed. For a while survivor’s guilt came close to crippling him mentally as he had no way of understanding or coping with this impossible turn of events.

As time passed in decades and then centuries, he became accustomed to his longevity and, according to Kirk’s log, had taken numerous aliases over the years, often playing a vital role in Human history along the way.

By the time he was discovered by the Enterprise, he had left the Earth behind in an attempt to create a life for himself that didn’t involve others though strangely Kirk’s entry was very vague on this point. However, having recovered the ryetalyn ore for the antitoxin it was discovered by the Enterprise’s CMO, Dr Leonard McCoy, that Flint now appeared to be aging normally. Having removed himself from the complex fields surrounding Earth his immortality, it seemed, had ended.

Kirk’s final entry stated that Flint had requested that he be allowed to live the final years of his life in solitude pursuing his own work and Starfleet had acceded to the request.

As the log ended, Kat sat quietly before looking at Emil.

“You’re Flint?”

Emil nodded. “The same.”

“But McCoy’s report said that you were now aging at the standard rate. That was over a hundred years ago.”

“I’m afraid I misled the good doctor on that one. Not maliciously I might add, he was a good man.”

Kat smiled and said, “He still is, apparently just more crotchety now.”

“We digress.” Emil stood and walked over to the window of the ready room, staring out at the scene of intense activity around the three rescued civilian ships. “I fooled Dr McCoy’s instruments by exposing myself to a slightly attenuated temporal field purely for the sake of regaining my solitude. You see I had a great deal of work I wished to finish and…” He bowed his head with a sigh. “I had some personal atoning to do as well.”

There’s that sadness again thought Kat. She wouldn’t pry; if it was something he wished to share then doubtless he would.

“So, I think we’ve firmly established that you have the longevity to have been with Dan back in 2053 so why wait until now to come forward? I assume Dan explained how he got there or of course you wouldn’t have known to come here.” Kat suddenly ran back the last sentence in her mind, checking it to make sure her temporal references weren’t skewed and eventually gave up after Emil nodded.

“There’s a very good reason why I waited and I’m afraid for the time being, if you’ll pardon the use of the word, I need to maintain secrecy on that.” Returning to his seat, he sat and faced Kat earnestly. “It’s easy for me to say that and I realise it’s much harder for you to accept my word. All I can say is that it’s for the benefit of the Federation.”

Kat rubbed her face and tired feeling eyes. “So what exactly are we now waiting for?”

“Oh that part is easy,” he replied. “We’re waiting on a certain Harcourt Fenton Mudd, because it’s his co-operation that is likely to be bringing Captain Fishlock and the Blackwell back to the 24th Century.”


TEAM LEOPARD
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2218 China Standard Time (1418 UTC)

Since shutting down the Pearl’s engines, Greyhawk had kept them advised of their drift which had steadily taken them onwards towards the Korean coast. At the same time, the advanced E2-D which was circling over the Korean mainland had kept them updated on the approach of the PLAN catamaran. Now, with the craft just minutes away, they had adopted radio silence.

While the team were safely muffled up against the cold and therefore unrecognisable as non-Chinese, Dong and Liu had been practicing their speech to the approaching ship.

Levin, the only team member absent from on deck, was actually in the water on the side furthest from the approaching catamaran whose engines could be heard now in the distance. If the cat insisted on coming alongside and inserting a boarding party, Levin would swim under the Pearl’s hull with a satchel of C4 to ensure the Chinese crew had something more pressing to think about.

“Standby,” shouted Liu disturbing Mitchell’s thoughts as he fired a red flare into the night sky. It quickly became lost in the scudding low cloud overhead then burst to become a steadily brightening ball of light as it descended. In the distance they heard the catamaran’s powerful engines slow and a brilliant searchlight reached out effectively blinding the Pearl’s crew.

“Fingers clear of the triggers boys,” whispered Mitchell into the headset he wore beneath his layers of scarves and balaclava.

If this turned into a firefight he hoped the element of surprise would work in their favour, because facing off against a military crewed vessel wasn’t Mitchell’s choice of scenarios. They were about to find out.


PLAN PATROL CRAFT SWIFTWIND
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2220 China Standard Time (1420 UTC)

I can’t believe we’ve wasted time on this thought Jiang. He knew that a simple radio call would have established the vessel’s credentials which could have been checked remotely but Lung was acting as if he owned the Yellow Sea right now.

“All stop,” he called and the Swiftwind sank into the waves as it slowed.

Lung was standing out by the bow with a team of sailors who were prepared to board the fishing vessel if necessary, but as Jiang watched the small crew of the fishing boat waving and cheering as they approached it seemed unlikely that they’d caught a spy vessel.

Jiang stood at the door to the bridge and listened as the apparent Captain of the vessel praised the brave Captain and the People’s Liberation Army Navy for saving their lives. He could almost see Lung preen at the comment and once again silently cursed the man.

“We were making trial runs after an engine replacement but it has failed again. I believe the shaft bearings are now locked.”

“Commander!”

The shout had come not from Lung as he’d expected but from the young officer manning communications.

“It is engineering Sir. We are taking on water in the port sponson!”

Damn it I warned him this would happen! “Get a damage control party down there immediately and find out how bad it is!” Jiang didn’t wait for a reply instead turning to call from the bridge door. “Captain, we have a problem.”

Jiang ducked back inside to prevent having to shout the news in earshot of the fishing vessel and when Lung arrived he immediately harangued him for ‘bellowing like the wife of one of those fishermen!’”

Within moments however he’d explained the problem and had been secretly delighted when Lung’s face had turned pale as he’d recognised the severity of his error. The news from the damage control party was even worse.

“The hull seams around the forward edge of the sponson have sprung Sir. Unless we head back to port now, and very slowly, the pumps are going to be fighting a losing battle to evacuate the water.”

Jiang turned to see Lung lost in some horrific vision of his own court-martial and demotion if not imprisonment.

“Captain?” There was no response from the man and Jiang knew that if nothing else, he’d never have to serve under the fool again.

“Lieutenant, escort the Captain to his cabin please and ensure that he stays there for his own safety.” The security officer nodded with obvious glee.

Dismissing the fool of a martinet from his thoughts, Jiang took formal command of the vessel and asked the engineer for a best speed for immediate return to the nearest naval base.

“I’m sorry Sir but 10 knots would be the maximum I would agree to.”

“Understood. See what you can do to at least strengthen the plates at that juncture.”

Jiang ran out on to the deck and shouted across to the crew of the Pearl Island knowing that it was now the Swiftwind that was more in need of aid than the fishing vessel.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 9 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 9 (cont)



TEAM LEOPARD
WEST KOREA BAY
YELLOW SEA
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2224 China Standard Time (1424 UTC)

Mitchell had watched as the Captain of the PLAN cat had stormed back to the bridge though it had been impossible to see what transpired. Eventually, a subordinate officer ran back out.

“I’m sorry,” he called, “we have a problem and need to return to port immediately. We will have to request help to attend you.”

Liu waved back. “I understand Sir but do not be concerned, we had already informed our yard of our difficulties before the radios died. They have our position. If my plot is correct we should be able to anchor securely as the bottom rises.”

The officer nodded and looked back to the bridge briefly. Mitchell saw one of the crew wave and the officer turned back to Liu.

“Do you have enough supplies to last you?”

Just tell him yes and get rid of him Meng!

“Actually Sir, if you could spare some overcoats for the cold it would be appreciated.”

Within moments, the cat was alongside and Mitchell had hurriedly whispered that nobody should take any action whilst wondering just what the hell Meng was playing at.

As soon as the bundle of coats and warm clothing was passed over, Liu waved his thanks and the officer saluted before returning to the bridge. With a roar of power, the cat turned and headed off into the dark at a far more leisurely speed than Mitchell would have expected.

He quickly made his way around to where Liu was standing and found him clutching the bundle and laughing.

“Overcoats Meng?” he asked incredulously.

“Look at the quality of these!” he laughed. “Now I have my souvenirs!”

“And it didn’t occur to you that they could just as easily have sent crew over as coats?” Mitchell wasn’t angry as such, not now anyway, but the situation had been tense enough without Liu trophy hunting.

“Ah, observation Captain, there’s the important word. Did you not notice that the vessel had a list to port as it approached?”

He shook his head. “Actually I was concentrating more on the armed crew surrounding their Captain.”

Liu gave one of his enigmatic smiles. “Then you would also have missed the split in the hull just above the waterline.”

“Which accounts for their lack of further interest in us and the slow departure?”

Liu nodded sagely and Mitchell looked to Dong, throwing his hands in the air. “Xu you have one crazy son of a china man for a father in law.”

“His daughter is much the same,” smiled the younger Chinese national.

Mitchell looked around at the team and saw them all laughing apart from…

“Will somebody get Levin out of the water please? Arnold, tell Greyhawk we’re ready to come home!” He quickly turned back again. “Oh and Meng, one of those coats is mine!”


SECURE NATIONAL COMMAND POST 4
CHEESMAN LAKE
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST
COLORADO, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0806 MST (1506 UTC)

“Madam President, I’d like to start this meeting with some good news.” Packard was smiling from ear to ear and Everett was at last glad they would have even the smallest thing to smile about. “I can confirm that at 1440 hours UTC, Team Leopard and two Chinese nationals were extracted from Chinese waters to safety on the Korean mainland without confrontation or loss.”

The cheer that went around the table was heartfelt and overdue. In material gain it was a small victory, but for morale it meant far more. Victory had been snatched from the jaws of disaster because so far none of the other teams had checked in. Everett was praying it was because they were still too busy evading capture but had her unspoken doubts.

She smiled at her long standing friend. “I’d personally like to meet all of them at the soonest possible time Admiral.” Packard nodded. “I’d also like to state for the record,” she continued to the room as a whole, “that until such time as we establish otherwise, every attempt is to be made to extract the remaining teams because our duty to them is both clear and honour bound.”

Packard seemed touched that Everett, despite everything else that was weighing on her shoulders, could still make a stand for the nation’s service men and women on the frontline.

“I’ll make sure your orders are passed on Ma’am.”

“Thank you. Now without wishing to pose too large a question, where does the world stand militarily Admiral?”

As the briefing progressed, it appeared that little had changed militarily. China had so far maintained their recent pledge to defend and not to attack and while their forces were still arrayed at the borders with their neighbours they had not advanced.

Russia, the second key player had remained neutral in the whole affair. Again her forces were on alert but remaining in a defensive posture along the Mongolian and Chinese border region. Some movement had been made to keep a wary eye on the former Soviet republic of Kazakhstan whose fortunes had very much changed after emerging from beneath Communist rule.

The European Union had, along with the US, recalled reservists and begun to dispatch reinforcements to strategic locations by air bridge.

The only current fly in the ointment was proving to be the Middle East. Mass rallies decrying the West’s war mongering had taken place on the streets of cities in Syria, Iran, Yemen and Libya amongst others, seemingly oblivious to China’s pre-emptive actions, and the radical clerics of the Muslim Bloc nations were already crying Jihad.

“Do we have all the bases covered there?” Everett knew that the West had kept a token presence in Iraq and Afghanistan supporting the fledgling democratic governments as they struggled into the 21st century. Their job however was training and logistical, not heavy combat. “If not, I want to make sure they’re ready to be pulled out if things go down the pan.”

Packard was glad that their President was ex-military, especially now. At least she had an eye for the difficulties the military might face and her grasp of strategy was sound.

“All planned and prepared Ma’am, though we’re not making any premature moves that might send the wrong message.”

“Recommendations on the Defence Condition Admiral?”

Packard paused for the first time in the brief and looked to the three heads of the armed forces and his vice chairman on the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“Madam President, the Joint Chiefs have discussed this and feel that we should revert to DefCon 2. It maintains almost the same state of readiness but hopefully sends a clear message to the world that America is stepping back from the brink.”

Everett surveyed the faces around the table once again.

“Comments anybody? After all this is still a democracy.”

She’d meant the comment to be light hearted but in truth she had felt very much alone in the decision making process. Other than Carmel, Spinelli and Packard, the remaining people present had supplied information but rarely offered informed dissension on decisions she had to make.
Benfield, the Director of the FBI, raised his hand. “Yes Thomas?”

“Madam President, the FBI would very much appreciate some military logistical assistance at the ports and airports if that’s possible. It would free up a lot of my field agents for the other task in hand.”

Everett fielded the question to General Edward Spearman, the Chief of Staff for the US Army.

“Actually Ma’am, that was on my list of suggestions. I’m fully aware how much you want to avoid martial law but I think the presence of armed troops at those locations would help tighten security and provide reassurance to the public.”

Benfield nodded his agreement and seeing that there were no other forthcoming comments, Everett turned back to Packard.

“DefCon2 then Admiral, and General Spearman if you can liaise with the FBI as personnel become available please?”
Everett checked her data slate for the next topic and handed over to Spinelli.

“Madam President, ladies and gentlemen. In co-ordination with the FBI, Homeland Security has made progress on identifying several cells within the Continental United States that warrant our attention.” She sat forward in her chair and removed her glasses. “I need to make clear that these units of interest have only come to our attention since the investigation of the Greensboro incident, and that’s not just covering Homeland’s…” She stopped short but her anger was evident. “Just to clarify my position, Madame President, these groups appear to consist of US nationals who were recruited quite some time ago by agencies unknown; sleeper cells would perhaps be an accurate term.”

“You say agencies unknown Ms Spinelli. I assume that means we have no current connections to either the ECoN or Sword of Iran?”

Everett knew the pressure that Spinelli and her department were under and the criticism that the media was levelling at their apparent failure in respect to the attacks.

“At the moment Ma’am, that’s correct. However the FBI now has constant surveillance on these known groups and has, in the past few hours, expanded its investigations due to information gathered.”

“Thank you Ms Spinelli. I’d like to make it clear from a personal point of view that I have always had, and continue to maintain, confidence in your department Ms Spinelli.” She pointed to Robert Anderson the White House Press Secretary. “Bob, I want that vote of confidence in the public domain ASAP.”

“I’ll place it at the top of the press conference package Ma’am.”

“Good, because the one thing I will not tolerate is finger pointing and blame placing from arrogant reporters who believe they have an inside story. Right now, this country needs to see a government that is unified in bringing these murderers to justice and not one that is point scoring against other departments.”

She hated to consider that any member of staff seated at the table was doing that but felt it was likely given the circumstances. It was something she would need to have stamped on as soon as possible but for now she let the matter rest. Turning finally to Lisa Turner, the Secretary of State, Everett asked about communications from foreign governments.

“So far we’ve had no response from the ECoN representative in China although we have requested a one on one as soon as the situation allows. Naturally I’ll package that in with your personal communiqué to President Lee after this meeting Ma’am.” She tabbed down her slate before continuing. “The Israeli Prime Minister, Miss Shapira, has requested an urgent talk with reference to the unrest in Syria and Iran. Several Middle Eastern leaders have sent one way communiqués expressing their, and I quote, “disbelief at the United States continued warmongering and its effect on the stability of World peace”, unquote.”

Everett rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming they all had the same script writer?” A smile passed around the table despite the seriousness of the implicit threat. “Is this rhetoric Admiral or are they making any moves out there?”

“So far Ma’am,” replied Packard, “it’s the former but we’re monitoring the situation closely.”

“Alright, keep me informed.” Everett stood effectively bringing the meeting to a close. “That’s all for now ladies and gentlemen, but I will remind you once again. Your President will not tolerate sniping at other departments for whatever gain. If you have a problem, it’s dealt with here do I make myself clear?”

With a round of nods and “Yes Ma’am”s, Everett left the room. Her next meeting was not unusual in itself. It was the topic of discussion that was the most unusual aspect.

 

[Gibraltar]

Commentary on Chapter 9

The presence of not only Harry Mudd but now Flint elevates the level of temporal complexity here by whole orders of magnitude. Now I’m left wondering who Flint was purporting to be in the 21st century? Someone we’ve met already in this tale, or perhaps someone new?

A very narrow miss with the Chinese patrol boat, but thankfully their inexperienced captain’s foolishness saved Team Leopard from discovery.

You’re maintaining the complexity and suspense of this story and I’m enjoying it thoroughly.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 10

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 10


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0930 CST (1530 UTC)

When Lieutenant Philip Green had driven into work the following morning, his appearance was immaculate. Even his attitude seemed to have received a spit shine as he reported to the office of Colonel Eddington. He entered, saluted smartly and then Eddington studied him for a moment.

“Lieutenant Green, I have to tell you that I was deeply concerned yesterday. I expect the best from my staff at all times but under an OpCleaver recall, I expect more. We are, unless you’re totally unaware, on a war footing Lieutenant and the actions you take at your place of duty affect not just this command but global strategy.”

Green had remained ramrod straight throughout Eddington’s speech, accepting it for what it was; a simple statement of fact.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, your promotion board sits in two months time and unless the world descends into chaos you should receive your promotion to Captain. Yesterday’s performance seriously jeopardised that. Now, do you have an explanation?”

“Sir, yes Sir.”

“Make it good Lieutenant because right now your career hangs by a thread.”

Subconsciously, Green took in the surroundings of Eddington’s office. The framed photographs of Eddington in a flying suit beside an F-22, the certificates, the Stars and Stripes prominently displayed behind his seat. All of them meant nothing to him right now and his career continuation was merely the means to an end for him, but Eddington would never know that.

“Sir I have an explanation, but I do not intend to offer it as an excuse. My appearance and demeanour yesterday was unbecoming and unprofessional. However, in mitigation I need to explain that yesterday was the anniversary of my father’s death.” Was that a flicker of sympathy from Eddington? Green pushed on. “I’m afraid that I have not dealt with the situation at all well. I would therefore like to request a special leave of absence to enable me to resolve the matter.”

For the first time, Green diverted his straight ahead gaze to look at Eddington and lied through his teeth.

“My career means a great deal to me Sir but unless I can finally resolve my issues, I’m concerned that it will prevent me fulfilling my potential and providing the Air Force with what it expects of me.”

Eddington appeared impressed. Green had never given the impression to anybody that he was either a conscientious or family oriented man and he was sure that Eddington had never expected him to have the backbone to face up to and deal with his issues. The impression that Green portrayed today was that yesterday had been the wakeup call he needed.

Finally Eddington stood and held out his hand.
“Congratulations Lieutenant, it takes a brave man to admit his faults and deal with them. I believe under the circumstances that a leave of absence can be arranged. Understand though that with the world climate as it is, you’re still required for immediate recall, is that understood?”

“Yes Sir,” you idiot.

Eddington nodded and Green felt the unexpected urge to laugh.

“Make sure that operations has your contact details and I want to see you back at the top of your game in two weeks.”

Green saluted and thanked Eddington before about facing and exiting the office. It had been so easy. So easy. Just as Raven had said it would be.

Green was totally unaware of the insidious drug that would still be in his system for the next 24 hours. It didn’t affect his appearance or his speech or indeed any outward appearance of normality. The only thing the experimental and highly addictive drug did was to make him compliant and subservient to Raven’s suggestions. Totally and unequivocally.


YANGLIUQING
XIQING DISTRICT
TIANJIN
CHINA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 2342 China Standard Time (1542 UTC)

As the time approached midnight in the quiet town house, Chimera finished reading the draft document that he had worked on with his daughter and smiled. Already she had proven herself to be a calm and rational voice in the aftermath of Huo’s lunacy and her mind was as sharp as a blade.

Which is just as well, he mused, because it is time to place the ECoN alliance back on track.

“I believe that this will certainly allay the fears of the world for now,” he said.

“As long as they also realise that this is not a sign of capitulation.” Juan leaned forward in the dim light of the data tablet her father held and took his hand. “We came far too close to losing everything with Huo father.”

“It is not we that concerns me Zhen.”

She smiled gently hearing the name. It was one that only her father ever called her.

“It is the people of this land who are my concern. For so long they have suffered the abominations of a dictatorial government and are only now beginning to see the light. We cannot let another fool such as Huo arise to destroy that.”

“You don’t have to convince me father,” she said playfully.
Chimera shook his head wearily. “I know Zhen, I know.” He touched her face gently. “Perhaps I’m just tired.”

“Then we should both sleep,” she said taking his hand. “Tomorrow I must speak with President Everett. She seems to be a leader to be admired.”

Chimera stood, the scars on the left side of his face thrown into stark relief by the data tablet’s glow.

“And I suspect one to be wary of. We should learn from Huo’s tragic mistake and never back her into a corner.”

That he thought would truly be the end.


SS STELLA ESCAPE – CARGO HOLD
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1546 FST

“It certainly seems an innocent enough item considering the problems it has caused,” mused T’Sell as she studied the artefact in the hold of Mudd’s ship.

The device had the colour of burnished copper though its surface was rough like stone, and one end flared forward almost like an inverted umbrella.

“Do we have any indication at all what language the inscriptions are in?” Kat thought she vaguely recognised some of the twisting symbols from an Academy lecture but couldn’t place them.

“This set here have a definite link with Iconian artefacts we have discovered certainly,” replied T’Sell, “but they would appear to pre-date them by some time according to the carbon dating.”

“Can we at least infer anything from them?”

“Inference and fact are widely separated Captain especially with an artefact that has the potential this one has.” There was no rebuke in T’Sell’s comment on the dangers of assumption, but Kat felt she should have known better than to ask. “However, once we have completed the scan of the object I will know better how much faith to place in the translation.”

T’Sell moved to the forward end of the artefact and pointed at an area that was devoid of inscriptions.

“This would appear to be the control interface if Captain Mudd’s description is to be believed.”

There were four stud like devices slightly recessed into the body, each one a different colour. Below them sat a rectangular panel, or at least the outline of one. Whether this was a viewscreen of some type or simply access to a further set of controls was as yet unknown.

“How long do you estimate the process will take Commander?”

T’Sell made a rapid mental calculation before responding. “The scan will be completed within the next 15 minutes. How long it may take thereafter to make sense of the inscriptions or any data we manage to derive is unknown.”

“Alright Commander, Doctor Vaslovik and I will be in security. Contact me when you have an update.”

“Aye Captain.”

As Kat led Emil back out to the hangar deck, he gave her an amused expression. “She’s a very intense young lady isn’t she?”

Kat was about to mention that T’Sell was almost twice her own age but then thought better. Considering Emil’s longevity, any lady would be young.

“She likes a challenge and she only gets that intense when she’s not winning,” she said instead. “If anybody can wring information out of it though, my money would be on T’Sell.”

The ride up to security was short and as they entered the brig, Kat saw that it was currently manned by the Ch’Tharian, Lieutenant Ress. His fearsome appearance even when in a good mood was only enhanced by the subdued lighting and appeared to have made Mudd retreat further into his cell.

“If you wouldn’t mind Lieutenant?”

Ress tapped the forcefield control with a shielded claw and the field sizzled before collapsing to allow Kat and Emil access. Mudd stared dolefully at the Ch’Tharian as he reactivated the screen and stepped back to his console.

“Charming chap. He’s spent the last half hour snapping his jaws like some prehistoric…”

Kat’s look silenced him.

“That happens to be one of my crewmen Mr Mudd and I’d appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself.”

Obviously far from happy, Mudd nevertheless called out an apology to Ress who bared his razor sharp teeth in what for him passed as a friendly smile. Mudd remained unhappy.

“Doctor Vaslovik, this is Harcourt Fenton Mudd, owner of the Stella Escape and unwitting cause of the phenomenon outside.”

“Am I to assume that they didn’t have enough fancy new uniforms for you doctor or does my elevated position as prisoner entitle me to a private physician?”

Mudd’s sarcasm was starting to wear on Kat’s nerves but Emil stepped in smoothly to head off the confrontation.

“Actually Mr Mudd my doctoring expertise lies in a different field at the moment though I’d be quite happy to give you a once over if you like?”

Mudd flopped back on to the bunk, his sarcasm apparently spent for now. Almost.

“No, that’s alright. I’ll sit here and waste away.”

“I’m afraid that might not be possible Mr Mudd.”

There was a tone in Emil’s voice that Mudd found reminiscent of many law enforcement officers he’d met in his career. It was one that said “I know a great deal more than you think I do.” Usually, much to Mudd’s chagrin, that had proven to be the case.

“And why would that be?” Mudd blustered. Kat was finding the spectacle amusing purely because the information that Emil had was compiled from historical records which revealed the extent of Mudd’s career. Of course the ostentatious conman would never know that.

“I’ve been notified by a certain governmental body in the Nethar sector that they are still awaiting delivery of…” Emil made a show of checking a PADD he was holding. “Ah yes, awaiting delivery of one Constitution class vessel, refurbished, surplus to Starfleet requirements.”

Kat had absolutely no idea how Mudd had managed to stay in business for all those years. It certainly wasn’t by playing poker she thought as she watched the blood drain from his face.

“Preposterous!” he disclaimed. “Who in their right minds would attempt such a ludicrous sale?”

“Well, according to the bill of sales it was appropriated from the Antares dry docks by one Admiral Harold F Samson.”

Mudd appeared crestfallen. “They had it for a damn good price though.”

Emil sat down next to Mudd, an expression of worry on his face. “I’m afraid you don’t understand Mr Mudd. Under the Nethari weapons and military sales statute, anybody who fraudulently attempts to sell weapons to their government and is apprehended has two options.”

“Which are?”

Emil controlled his voice and injected a little extra drama for Mudd’s sake.

“They can either serve in the Nethari Border Service for five years…”

Mudd’s eyes went round in shock. “But that’s suicide! They’ve been at war with the Talan for over a hundred years along that very border!”

“Well the other option would be a life sentence on their penal planet but from what I’ve heard that might not be a much better bet.”

By now Mudd was on his feet and looking panicked. “But…I…that is, a man of my age…”

Kat had turned her back on the scene finding it very difficult to keep her own poker face.

“Mr Mudd, please calm down.” Mudd slumped back on to the bunk and it was obvious that the whole of his life had just passed before his eyes. “Now, it’s possible, just possible, that you may have the answer in the hold of your ship.”

Mudd was instantly alert. “What? That…thing?”

Emil, thoroughly enjoying his part, said in a quiet voice, “Where did you happen to, erm, ‘salvage’ that artefact Mr Mudd?”

Mudd pondered the question for a moment. “It was on the Federation border that adjoins Nethari space.” There was a beat, then Mudd hastened to add, “But it was on the Federation side of the border.”

“Hmmm.” Emil sat in thought despite Kat being very well aware of what he was about to say. “If we were to, shall we say, arrange for this item to be reunited with its proper owners…yes that might work.”

“What? What might work?” Mudd was almost frantic by now. “Take it; it’s been nothing but trouble since I found the thing.”

“That would be considered a most generous act by the Nethari Mr Mudd. You see the object happens to be one of their most prized and ancient relics.”

Mudd’s face fell. “I suppose they were offering a handsome reward for its recovery as well weren’t they?” When Emil nodded, Mudd slumped even further on to the bunk. “I thought that might be the case.”

“One other thing. Do you recall a data slate being with it? It was apparently with the artefact when it was stolen and I very much suspect that would be a very important part of any deal we would be able to make.”

Mudd nodded glumly as he saw his final chance for any kind of profit disappear. “It’s in a retractable panel in the base of the pilot’s console on the Stella Escape.”

Emil stood and Kat indicated for Ress to drop the security field. “I’ll speak with the Federation legal authorities on this Mr Mudd. I’m fairly certain a deal can be made. You’ll just need to bear with me, but in the meantime Captain Gray has organised some suitable accommodation for you to move into.”

“Well,” shrugged Mudd, “at least there’s one silver lining to this miserable cloud.”

By the time they reached the corridor and were out of earshot of Mudd, Kat released a trademark guffaw that was probably heard on the Olympic.

“How on Earth did you keep a straight face? You’re as big a conman as he is!”

“Ah, let’s just say I’ve had a lot more time to practice than Mr Mudd,” smiled Emil. “Let’s deliver this holy data slate to Commander T’Sell. An instruction manual is always useful.”

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 10 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 10 (cont)


USS BLACKWELL
LAKE KHOVSGOL
NORTHERN MONGOLIA
EARTH
5th April 2053 – 1441 UBT (0641 UTC)

The team of four Starfleet officers were sat in the cockpit of the Blackwell ready to discuss their situation now that they had both an accurate scan of the surrounding area plus disposition of forces, and now a slightly clearer picture of events that were about to transpire in the region.

Dan and Homer occupied the pilot’s positions while Misaki and a healthier appearing Gabe took the systems operator’s seats.

“Alright, the first thing we have to deal with is the matter of our place in the timeline. First and foremost, we can do absolutely nothing that might alter history.” Dan knew he was preaching to the converted but felt it had to be said in open forum. “It is our duty as Starfleet officers to preserve this timeline and if saving history demands our sacrifice then it is a price we are expected to pay.” There were many situations that could have arisen in Dan’s career where he would have had to state the need for sacrifice in the line of duty, but he’d never expected to have to make the speech over three hundred years in the past.

“We now have a better picture of the situation around us and Homer here has been swotting from the historical database in an attempt to piece together anything that might affect our stay here.”

“I guess a nuclear war on our doorstep might fall under that classification,” grinned Gabe with gallows humour.

“Not necessarily Sir,” replied Homer. He looked apologetically at his commanding officer realising he’d just interrupted again, but Dan nodded for him to continue. “The thing is Sir, we might just get away with this.”

Their screens lit up with a map of the local area around Lake Khovsgol and Homer pointed items out like a tourist guide.

“Khovsgol is Mongolian for "ocean" and that pretty much sums up this lake. It’s fresh water of course but it covers 2760 square kilometres and contains 1% of the fresh water reserve on Earth. We happen to be sitting over 260 metres below the surface so you can see that there’s enough natural cover to keep us hidden and safe.” He highlighted the southern tip of the lake. “This is the town of Khatgal. It has an airstrip and a small port on the lake but naturally both of these are currently inactive because of the situation.”

“Have the ECoN forces not commandeered those utilities?”

Homer shook his head at Dan’s question. “They’ve actually set up forward operating locations further back from the border region Sir. I suppose prime assets that close to the frontline would be too tempting a target.”

There was a river at Khatgal, the Egiin River, and it was the only one to flow out of the lake despite over 90 flowing into it. “This is pretty much the only point of vehicular access to the area as well. The ‘taiga’, or forest, that surrounds the lake would really slow down any heavy movement so I think we’re safe there as well for the moment.”

“Why could we not simply make a maximum impulse departure?”

Homer smiled. “That was my first thought as soon as we got the impulse back online, but I’ve managed to tie in to several major surveillance satellites overhead and they are really watching the area closely. Along with the Middle East, this is expected to be the major flashpoint for the war. In fact the Middle East beats it by maybe twenty minutes but that’s beside the point.” He widened the scope of the map. “Basically, while they probably wouldn’t be able to identify what we are, tensions around here are so high that our departure could spark off the whole shooting match prematurely.”

“Alright so we sit it out,” agreed Gabe. “Are there any significant events described in this area?”

“I’ve managed to trace four so far, but my main concern as I told Captain Fishlock is that the records are fragmented from this period so I can’t guarantee it.”

A red circle pulsed approximately 8 kilometres south-east of Khatgal. “This is the first. It’s an ECoN surveillance aircraft that apparently strayed too close to the border. Russian controllers warned it off but either the aircraft didn’t hear or the captain called their bluff. Either way it was shot down.”

The next circle pulsed in the forests on the western slope of the lake. “This might have been a tit for tat shooting down by the ECoN but it’s interesting because the aircraft was carrying a joint Russian and American SpecOps mission to take out the four constructions south of us.” He once again highlighted an area for them and there were four dome shaped buildings with approximately four kilometres separating each one. “Only one team made it to the westerly dome and it turns out that it was perhaps the most important strike in the war.”

“In what way Homer?” Dan was engrossed in the tale but couldn’t see why these constructions would be so important.

“Apparently, they were slave controllers for orbital kinetic energy weapons that had been moved over the US disguised as innocent satellites. I can’t get much detail about the operation because there were no survivors but when they took out that westerly dome, they prevented the destruction of one of the most important Project Phoenix sites,” Homer grinned as he said, “in Bozeman, Montana.”

Dan whistled softly. “Boy I never knew how close a call that had been.”

“Yep, turns out there was a cluster of missile silos in that area all targeted by that particular satellite.”

“Ok that’s two events. Third and fourth?”

A third pulsing circle appeared, this time on the Russian side of the border just north east of the lake. “Mutiny apparently. A platoon of Russian troops deserted from this point and headed into our general area. According to a report sent to the Russian Command, they all turned berserker. Nobody ever clarified the report because it was literally minutes before zero hour.”

Finally, the last circle pulsed. This one was close enough to the southernmost tip of the lake that it overlapped the shoreline on the map.

“Now that doesn’t look good.” Dan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh huh,” replied Homer. “That, Sir, is ground zero for a malfunctioning Russian nuclear missile. It lands at approximately zero hour plus twenty two minutes according to ECoN sources. However, it doesn’t actually detonate until around thirty five minutes later as the Russians themselves push south and overrun the ECoN forces.”

“Lake Khovsgol?”

Homer shook his head. “Glass and steam Sir.”

The cockpit fell quiet as each one envisaged the hellish destruction that was soon to be unleashed around the world but, perhaps more importantly, particularly in the little corner of it that they currently occupied.

“Not good at all.”

 

[Gibraltar]

Seeing the infamous ‘Colonel’ Green starting off as someone else’s puppet is both a novel and riveting twist on the known Trek timeline. One wonders if this experience eventually colors his outlook on perceived ‘impurities’ in human genetics, or if he remains a tool being manipulated by others later in life as well?

The scene where Emil handles Mudd with a practiced hand had me chuckling. The grand-master of BS has finally met his match!

And now Dan & Company have discovered that their little hidey-hole is about to become so much radioactive steam in the not-too-distant future. And what about the historically footnoted Russian berserkers? I’ve got to believe there’s more to the story that we just haven’t seen/heard of yet.

Once again, the pace at which this tale is unfolding is especially enjoyable, and you’re doing a masterful job of stitching together these various storylines (and timelines) into a seamless whole.

Simply phenomenal work.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 11

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 11


SECURE NATIONAL COMMAND POST 4
CHEESMAN LAKE
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST
COLORADO, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0832 MST (1532 UTC)

In the quiet of her private office, Madeline Everett watched as the video conference logo changed to that of NASA, before clearing to reveal the tanned face and piercing blue eyes of NASA Administrator, Abigail March.

“Madam President,” she smiled, appearing slightly unsettled to be speaking directly to her Commander in Chief.

“Abigail.” Everett inclined her head at the ex-astronaut. “How’s space?”

“Big as ever Ma’am,” she chuckled.

Everett picked up one of the files from her desk and studied it for a moment before returning her attention to the screen pickup.

“Abigail, I’d like an update on forthcoming projects if possible and in particular…” Here we go, she thought. “…interplanetary and deep space.”

“That could be quite a lengthy list Ma’am. Since we began outsourcing to the commercial sector we’ve gained a lot of potential projects.”

“How many of those potential projects are projects with potential though?”

March frowned. “It’s a bit like ‘how long is a piece of string’ Ma’am to be honest. There are quite a few that are simply works in progress but they’ve got the space crowd pretty enthused.”

Everett took a deep breath and prepared to lay her fears on the line. “Alright, bottom line Abigail. The events of these past few months has proven to me and the rest of the world that humanity is walking a very thin line between success and mutually assured destruction. What I really want to know is the likelihood of interplanetary colonization, or at the very least the first steps.”

March tapped on her keyboard for a moment, occasionally glancing at data appearing on a separate screen.

“I’m sending over four files Ma’am. They’re marked ARES, NEBULA, SWIFT and PHOENIX. Right now, they’re our best four projects.”

Everett nodded as she watched March complete the transfer. “So in a nutshell, give me the basics.”

“Yes Ma’am. The first one, ARES, is a case of NASA not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Ares I and V were part of the Constellation project that was cancelled back in 2010. At that time we were way behind the curve on finance and development time but though the project was shelved, the technology is still sound in principle. Fortunately, somebody had the foresight to store quite a bit of the hardware and keep it on simmer. The team here are in the stages of working up a proposal to use much of that technology, refined of course, to update the Ares V which was the heavy lift vehicle.”

“And what would ARES give us?”

“Our first shot at Mars Ma’am. There’s a great deal of interest from multi-nationals and in particular the International Space Agency.”

It was obvious from the way March spoke that she was passionate about her subject though the realities of the multi-billion dollar endeavours was also apparent.

“NEBULA is a way down the line yet. It’s basically the ARES Project with all new equipment. That’s been proposed by a joint Japanese and Taiwan consortium though with events in the East…” March trailed off and Everett could see why.
China, in pre-ECoN times, had long coveted Taiwan and even spoke of returning it to the mainland’s control by military force if necessary. That threat could only prove more likely now.

“Seems like we can put that one to the back of the queue for now Abigail. What about SWIFT?”

“Another joint project Ma’am, but a relatively recent one. It’s divided between the European Space Agency and NASA with input from Roskosmos, the Russian Federal Space Agency. Basically we’re attempting to provide a new asset in terms of a reusable craft for Low Earth Orbit missions. We’re pinning hopes on this because we can use the technology to expand the interplanetary missions.”

“And PHOENIX?”

March smiled again. She likes this one thought Everett.

“PHOENIX is probably the most exciting but the more long term project of the four. Right now it’s all theory and not a lot of technology but the theory is sound and...”

Everett held up her hands to forestall the sales pitch. “Just tell me what it is first.”

“No hype Ma’am, it could be mankind’s first shot at faster than light travel and if that doesn’t open up the Galaxy, nothing will.”

Everett was somewhat confused and said so. “Abigail, I’m no astrophysicist but I thought a certain Professor Einstein told us that was never going to happen. Too much mass, not enough energy?”

“It seems the eggheads are reversing the process. Rather than attempting to move a craft through space, they’re looking at bending space around the craft so you see the Theory of Relativity takes a knock.”

“I get the feeling you just made that explanation much simpler than it really is for a newbie.”

March spread her hands and laughed. “Actually Ma’am it’s even way over my head at the moment, and as I said it’s long term.”

Everett sat and thought for a moment before replying to March. She knew what she wanted but didn’t want it to sound ridiculous.

“Abigail, I want you to get some heads together there and talk about near space colonization. Spread the word to multi-nationals if you like, but get some ideas rolling.” She paused and decided that even if nobody else knew, March had the right to know her fears. “The truth is we’ve just had a wake up call Abigail. If the human race is going to self destruct here because of some lunatic, I want colonization to be an insurance policy.”

“And the clock appears to be ticking Ma’am?”

“I’d love to say no, but I can’t. See what you can pull together but low key ok?”

March nodded with a “Yes Ma’am,” and Everett terminated the link.

If it was her fate to be the President who oversaw Armageddon, she at least wanted to leave a legacy of hope.


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 0949 CST (1549 UTC)

As Green wandered in from the bright sunshine, his eyes refused to adjust to the dark interior of the shop. Of course, that was an effect of the rapidly diminishing drug in his bloodstream though naturally he didn’t know it. All he truly recalled was that he was meant to be meeting Raven but his thoughts were becoming confused. Had he meant to meet him here? Was it even the right day? To be honest, he couldn’t recall Raven telling him anything, yet here he was anyway. For some reason, it felt like weeks since Raven had been in his apartment and Green was now having difficulty separating reality from fantasy.

A young woman of middle-eastern appearance stepped through from the rear of the shop. She had the perfect combination of dark hair, dark eyes and an olive complexion that at once stunned Green with her beauty and then threw him a curve ball as his subconscious again questioned his reason for being here.

“Ah, Mr Green!” Her smile at seeing him illuminated the whole shop for Green. The tone of her voice suggested she’d known him for years and when she took his hand, it was as if a sensual warmth travelled up his arm to spread outward through his body. “It’s so good to see you! Please, come through.”

She turned to the young girl behind the counter and said something in Arabic that Green couldn’t understand before leading him through to the rear of the shop. There, in the dimly lit room, stood Raven.

“Mr Green, please, take a seat.” The man’s voice sounded amiable to Green but there was a shiver of fear as he vaguely recalled that this man owned his life because…because…

“I, er…” Green felt the room spin and unseen, Raven nodded to the young woman who’d brought him through.

“Let me help you,” he said and took Green’s arm, settling him on to the sofa. “I think you should have a drink Mr Green, you’re not looking well.”

Green began to nod, but a call from deep within his mind said no! It made little difference. While the drug was diminished, it still controlled him and despite the mental warning that might have saved him, he took the proffered glass from the young woman and drank deeply.

He would not consciously remember this day for some years to come, but when he did it would be a moment that changed his life and not for the better. For now, he simply noticed that room had become much darker and he really needed to rest.


USS ANGEL
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1622 FST

Commander Anthony Winston, the Angel’s CMO walked alongside the anti-grav chair that was currently occupied by Gabby Escher. While the treatment for Gabby’s injuries following the fighter crash on Zethander was for now complete, she would require physiotherapy to return her to pilot status.

More importantly, her non-physical scars needed tending to as well. Although her memory had now returned for the most part, she was not dealing well with the apparent loss of Homer despite the reassurances of friends and staff that everything was being done to bring them home.

Gabby had requested a trip to the flight deck for her first outing in the chair and after speaking to her counsellor, Geri Hamble, he had duly brought her down. Traffic was flowing regularly back and forth to the three rescued vessels and the flight deck hummed with activity.

Her face gave nothing away apart from the slightest smile. It was when Anthony, a trained counsellor himself, saw a spark of life come into her eyes at the scene that he knew bringing her here had been the right thing to do.

“Gabby!”

Running towards them on the catwalk that overlooked the cavernous bay was Lieutenant Eski Martari. As one of Angel’s Valkyrie pilots and long time friend of Homer, it was perhaps the one person that Gabby had hoped to see most.

Behind the chair, Anthony quietly held up his hand out of Gabby’s sight and smiled. Mo slowed her headlong rush and watched in amazement as her friend slowly levered herself from the chair’s confines. She took two hesitant steps towards Mo and then took her in a bone crushing embrace.

Anthony couldn’t hold back a smile as he saw a look of disbelief and joy on the young lieutenant’s face. To be honest, proud as he was in his abilities as a surgeon, even he’d been surprised at the rapid rate of recovery though he knew much of it was due to the determination and sheer bloody mindedness of Gabby.

As the two young women chattered Anthony helped Gabby back to the chair, her moment of bravery having taken much out of her.

“Doctor, would it be possible to take Gabby up to the rec room?”

With a frown that was equally as false as his tone, Anthony pondered the question. “Hmmm, I’m not sure…” He knew he couldn’t keep it up in the face of both Gabby and Mo’s earnest expressions. “Of course you can, though if you start feeling tired Ms Escher, I expect you to be returned post haste understood?”

“Absolutely Doctor, thank you!” She managed a brief squeeze of his hand before being whisked off by Mo amid a flurry of laughter.

Oh the resilience of youth, he reflected. Was I ever that young?

Despite his thoughts, it was with a slightly lighter step that he headed back to MedCentre One for the handover to Beta Shift.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 11 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 11 (cont)


YANGLIUQING
XIQING DISTRICT
TIANJIN
CHINA
EARTH
6th January 2026 – 0122 China Standard Time (5th January 2026 - 1742 UTC)

“I told you this was madness!”

“It is not your place to advise me Abbas. Simply fly the aircraft.”

Khan was as calm and unruffled as if they had been on a sight seeing tour yet Abbas was drenched in sweat as he hurled the Lear Jet through suicidal low level flight. Or at least it might have been suicidal for somebody who didn’t have the advantage of augmentation.

Abbas’ reactions were faster and more refined than almost any other pilot in the world and yet as the experienced Israeli pilot behind them closed once more, he was forced to pull the nimble civilian jet into another high G turn for which it had never been designed.

“If I have to put this down, you should be strapped in.”

Abbas knew he could easily put the aircraft down wheels up as long as he found a decent enough stretch of desert but even for an augment, strapping in was a good idea.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “I trust your skills enough not to have to consider that option Abbas.” Khan amazingly stayed on his feet despite the forces of gravity attempting to pull him down.

The shrill beep of the instruments telling him he was far too low echoed around the small cockpit and filled his mind as again and again he twisted the aircraft, the sound drilling into his mind again…and again… until…

He awoke with a start to see the light flashing on his bedside monitor and the beep of the chime ringing softly.

“One moment,” Chimera called and quickly slipped from the damp sheets to don a robe. Keeping the lights low he crossed back to the bed and activated the panel beside it.

Much of the house he occupied was more than it seemed and most of that was devoted to security so he was not concerned about an intrusion. Any attempt would have been dealt with by the elite men and women who served him.

“Go ahead.”

“Sir, I apologise for waking you, but you requested this information as soon as we had it.”

The voice was that of his senior intelligence analyst and the message could only refer to one thing. They had seized Huo’s computer from his office the moment he had betrayed them and it would appear that the analysis of the hard drives was now complete.

“There is no need to apologise for following instructions Min-Jun. Thank you for advising me.”

“Sir, I fear you may not thank me when you hear what we have discovered.”

“Do not fear Min-Jun, the days of killing the messenger are long gone. Whatever you have found was not of your doing; you have simply brought it to light.” Chimera had to admit, if only to himself, that the news certainly didn’t sound good.

“It is as you expected Sir. Huo had made contact with an Iranian radical element known as the Sword of Iran. Not only did he provide the suitcase weapons from the Chinese arsenal, but it would appear he may have provided at least two missiles with warheads.”

Chimera hid the anger in his voice when he replied. “Anything else?”

“Yes Sir. There is a document that is still decrypting, but it involves the use of narcotics and implants for the purposes of mind control. The Iranians, it would seem, have already used this technique experimentally and supplied the information to Huo as part payment for the weapons.” There was a pause and Chimera knew there was something worse to come. “We believe he had already begun to experiment on human subjects in this country Sir.”

Chimera felt the pain well up in the left side of his face as it always did when he was angry. “Advise me when the files are fully decrypted please Min-Jun,” he told the Korean analyst, “and good work, kamsahamnida.”

It was only when the screen faded to black that Chimera threw the glass he’d been holding at the wall and cursed the day he’d ever allowed the fool Huo to ascend to power.

Narcotics and implants; it was amateurs playing at augmentation not realising the monster they were unleashing. Or worse still, fully comprehending that monster and creating it intentionally.

And now it would take an augment to put an end to it.


SHREVEPORT
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 1342 CST (1942 UTC)

The subject of mind control first emerged in the aftermath of the Korean War, when it was claimed that the Chinese had carried out mind control experiments on US prisoners of war. Crude and cruel, the procedure was never officially acknowledged throughout the civilised world and yet it existed.

At the start of the 21st century with advances in neural engineering, the next step came in the form of neural implants. Small devices that could miraculously change the life of somebody with serious neural damage, they were also found to be perfect as the next evolution in mind control.

In the same way that people spoke of the genie being out of the bottle after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, so they said the same of neural implants. Each advance brought the technique of utilising them for mind control closer to perfection. Perfection that is, for those who were imposing the control.

And so it was that in highly secure establishments around the world experiments took place on those who would never be reported missing. Governments who preached human rights as their highest standards were often unaware that their own employees were involved in the lowest degradation of those rights. Governments who cared little for the rights of their citizens were unhampered by conscience and pushed hard to perfect the technique.

In tandem with simple drugs such as scopolamine and sodium thiopental, or in combination with hypno-conditioning, the horror that was total mind control came closer step by step.

Raven stared down at the American officer Green who now lay sleeping in the ward of the private clinic he’d been brought to. Beside him in the next bed was a senator ostensibly undergoing treatment for a heart problem that didn’t exist. Further along were an airline pilot and the CEO from a major aerospace industry giant.

He viewed them all with the same contempt. They were to his mind a necessary evil, simply tools to be used, but they were at least ones he could control. He also knew that in Iran, the same experiment was now being used to produce the first soldiers of a new era. Uncaring of their own lives regardless of religious belief, they would become the strike units that would scour the middle east clean of non-believers and he was at the vanguard of that research.

None of them would ever be aware that the tiny implant was receiving instructions that controlled their every waking moment.

Raven turned his back on the ward for it was time to report to his own controlling authority in Iran. Phase one was approaching its conclusion.


LIFTER 55 – USAF C-17
EN-ROUTE TO USA
EARTH
5th January 2026 – 1357 CST (1957 UTC)

Mitchell strolled down the cargo deck of the venerable C-17 Globemaster II strategic lift aircraft and smiled as he saw Heng Liu once again trying to teach Levin the intricacies of weiqi, the ancient Chinese board game better known in the west as Go. Levin had the desperate expression of a man who knew he was way out of his depth but wouldn’t quit.
Mitchell smiled as he passed by and Liu rolled his eyes with an expression that could only be read as one of exasperation.

Further back, Xu Dong, Benjamin and Webb were discussing their respective families and Arnold had once again managed to find the most uncomfortable location on the aircraft to curl up and sleep.

After all they had been through it seemed impossible to believe that soon they would be home. The members of Leopard to the comfort of familiarity and family, Liu and Dong to a brand new life with their own families; and around all of them, the world had changed.

As he watched the men who had risked their lives with him, Mitchell wondered just how long the strange and unnatural quiet that had settled upon the political world would last.

He knew that this new ECoN had officially declared a state of war, and then fallen silent without any further action. Of course the Middle East was still tense with the radical calls for retribution showing little sign of abating, though more rational voices were now calling for less rhetoric and more thinking.

Mitchell had chosen this career because quite simply, it had been one he’d been born to. He knew that he would serve his country and do so with pride but he still feared what may await the world.

“Sir?” Levin had approached without Mitchell noting, but then he had a habit of doing that. In his hand was one of the omnipresent Styrofoam cups of steaming coffee from the C-17’s galley and he proffered it to Mitchell.

Accepting it with a grimace, Mitchell said “How much more of this stuff am I expected to drink? You’re either trying to buy a favour or kill me with a caffeine overdose.”

Levin chuckled. “Sir if the People’s Liberation Army and its Navy can’t bump you off, I think you’re safe with Air Force coffee.”

“So is it a favour then?” Mitchell took a sip and felt the hot liquid add a little warmth to his bones though he probably wouldn’t sleep for a week.

“No Sir, I think I have everything I need right now. It’s…”

Mitchell watched quietly as Levin obviously worked on what it was he really wanted to say.

“Look Levin, you can trust me. Whatever it is that’s got you so obviously upset, I’ll treat it in confidence you know that.”

Levin nodded before miserably blurting out his woe. “To be honest Sir, it’s this trip to the Whitehouse. How the hell is somebody like me supposed to know which knife and fork to eat with?”

Without warning, Mitchell burst out laughing and this time didn’t particularly care that his coffee sprayed everywhere because his laugh came from the soul. He’d faced down death and was at last on his way home.

“Son, if that’s the limit of your troubles I’ll make sure they have a monogrammed bib standing by for you!”

He placed his arm around Levin’s shoulder and walked back to where the rest of the team sat watching them in confusion.

Arnold had managed to pry one eye open, but when he realised that they weren’t about to crash he closed it again and pulled the Chinese Navy coat back over his head.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 12

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 12



THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON DC, USA
EARTH
12th January 2026 – 0900 MST (1400 UTC)

At Everett’s insistence, the seat of government had returned to the White House in Washington. She had spoken several times with President Lee Juan in the past week and each time, despite Lee’s admonition that a state of war existed she had also stated that the ECoN would only react to provocation.

Strangely, Madeline found the woman both compelling and charming. Ever polite she was the personification of the sleeping dragon; beautiful and serene unless motivated to act otherwise, and Everett had no intention of providing that motivation.

It was one particular conversation that stuck in her mind and it had come as a surprise that Lee had requested a personal one-to-one without “the sense of the world listening” as she had put it. She’d naturally spoken to Robert Carmel first who, with certain reservations, had agreed. Any contact at this stage was good and despite the inherent risks of an unmonitored communication, he still believed the risk was justifiable. “Of course it’s your risk and not mine,” he’d admitted.

So it was that three days ago, two of the world’s most powerful leaders had spoken not in the language of politics, but in that of fellow humans.

The snow outside the Oval Office window had lain thick that Friday morning and Madeline had made a point of going outside with Rebecca and Jennifer into The Rose Garden which bordered the Oval Office and the West Wing of the White House. They’re they’d made a small family of snow men and women before hurrying back into the warmth for hot chocolate and it was as they relaxed by the fire that the call came from Beijing.

When Madeline was alone in the office, she activated the desktop screen and smiled. Surprisingly the smile was returned and it appeared genuine.

“Madame President,” began Lee, “I appreciate your trust in this communication and wish you to know that that trust is reciprocated.” Her words were in unaccented English and Madeline envied her ability with language, something she’d always had trouble with.

“Well if we’re operating on a basis of trust, I’d appreciate it if you would call me Madeline.” We’re not quite at the stage where you can call me Maddy. Not yet.

“Likewise Madeline, I would be honoured for you to call me Juan.”

Suddenly, with those words, the world had become much smaller and had less sharp corners to Madeline’s mind. Here was a young woman doing exactly the same job as she was, facing exactly the same concerns and perhaps some worse if the stories that had leaked from China were to be believed.

“May I ask you an honest question Juan?”

The young woman bowed her head in confirmation.

“Where do our two nations now stand? Before you answer, I want you to know that I ask that person to person, not as leader to leader. These past nine days have been perhaps the most dread filled of my life Juan.”

There was the slightest of pauses as Juan considered the question seriously. Then with the first open and honest expression that Madeline thought she had seen in the leader, she answered.

“The world has changed drastically Madeline and it was a change perpetrated by a fool. Sadly, there is nothing we can do to remove that from the pages of the history books now, but I too have been haunted by the spectre of war on a scale that could decimate the world.”

And indeed, there was genuine concern on her face.

“Like you, I have family who I care deeply about and had the situation been reversed I suspect my actions would have been identical to yours. In the eyes of my people however, while it may justify your actions it does not bring forgiveness.” Lee held up her hands to forestall Madeline’s protest. “Please, do not condemn my people for their thoughts Madeline. I am sure that your own countrymen feel the same way about the actions against your country. I merely tell you this so that you understand what I am trying to achieve.”

Madeline nodded for Juan to continue, absorbed by the disparity of strength and frailness that emanated from this young woman.

“Like you, I serve my country and its people. Unlike those who have gone before me, however, I do so in the hope that those people can at last step out into the light of democracy and freedom because it is something that for too long they have not known.” Madeline almost heard the but. “The problem I face is that as their leader I cannot ignore the strikes against my country and hence this strange declaration of war. Or non-war as the case may be.”

There was a strange look of hope in Juan’s eyes now and Madeline unconsciously held her breath.

“The world has to see that the ECoN will not tolerate action against us because I believe there are those in the world right now who would like nothing more than the tearing apart of both of our nations. At the same time, face to face, I wish to give you my word that the ECoN will never act pre-emptively without the gravest of provocations. We all have far too much to lose down that particular road.”

Madeline considered her words carefully, because what she had just heard was perhaps the most heartening thing since this whole mess began.

“In return then, I offer my own word that pre-emptive action is the very last thing this nation intends. We have to draw a line under what has happened and pray that it is a lesson that our successors will learn.” Don’t falter Maddy. “I also agree that provocation could prove our undoing and I would like to place this thought before you. At our next official meeting, I want to be able to recommend that my force’s Defence Condition is lowered because there is movement away from your borders of your own forces. I accept that you wish to protect your sovereignty, as would we, but we must act in accord to step back from the edge.”

Juan was silent for some while before the slightest of smiles returned to her face.

“My father once told me, unnecessarily I might add, that you were a dangerous woman to back into a corner.”

Madeline returned the smile. “It has been mentioned before, but like your own stance Juan, that danger only emerges in self defence.”

“I wish to tell you something that I may never get to say in a public forum, at least for a while. I trust you Madeline Everett. In the world that we find ourselves in today, that is something we all need.”

Madeline was touched. “Then you should know that that trust will not be betrayed Juan. But I want to warn you; right now I have reason to believe that trust does not extend to certain governments in the world. Be careful.”

“Sadly, I am already aware of that Madeline.” She looked at her watch and hurriedly finished. “I have to go, but your warning is received with gratitude. I believe it is likely that we may be facing the same opponent. Hao yùn Madeline.”

“Good luck to you too Juan.”

As the screen went dark, Madeline wondered just what had happened in China that involved Iran because with a sudden twist the stage of war might have shifted across continents.

Standing, she stepped out of the office and headed for her private quarters to prepare for the official arrival of Team Leopard. While the world in general would never get to know of their actions, they at least deserved to know that their Commander in Chief valued them.


YANGLIUQING
XIQING DISTRICT
TIANJIN
CHINA
EARTH
12th January 2026 – 2342 China Standard Time (1442 UTC)

Working long into the night had now become commonplace in Chimera’s house. After his daughter’s private talk with Madeline Everett, he had been pleased that Juan had found much to admire in the woman. She was, in essence, a humane leader as he had raised Juan to be. While he had honoured his word to ensure that the conversation remained private, he would dearly have loved to be a fly on the wall.

With the recent discovery about Huo’s stupidity however, their work hours had taken on a darker edge.

“Do we know yet where the research facilities are for these experiments?”

Juan’s voice was clipped and she was obviously still as revolted as Chimera about the secrets that had been revealed.

“It is possible,” he replied, “that the locations are on the still encrypted sections of the hard drive but Min-Jun assures me we will have whatever there is by morning.”

“And if we locate these facilities?”

The question had been in Chimera’s mind since learning of the mind control experiments and he was still undecided. “Certainly they have to be stopped, but if any word leaks out about this research it will be the current government, and particularly you, that receives the blame. The people no longer have a monster to hate in Huo.”

“If it is possible to reverse the damage that has been done to these people, should we not then do it?”

“Of course we should and I’m surprised that you might believe I would have said no Zhen.”

Juan bowed her head in shame. “That was thoughtless of me father and I apologise.”

“I understand that you are upset Zhen.” His attention was drawn to the small window that looked out on to the courtyard of his home. It was snowing again, huge heavy flakes laying a blanket of white across the cobbles. “Look out there.”

Juan turned to look at the quiet, falling flakes.

“Let me tell you a story that was told to me as a child.” She sat, as usual at his feet and watched as he composed his thoughts. “Each snowflake as it falls is like a human life Zhen; each one unique and beautiful. If you should catch one, its beauty melts and is gone forever, never to be replaced. More importantly, remember that the power of a snow flake is never felt until the avalanche strikes you.”

For some while there was silence in the room, the thick snow outside muffling the sounds of late night passers by, but it was a comfortable silence. It was Chimera who eventually broke it.

“If we discover the facilities, then we will do our best to care for those that Huo would have destroyed but remember, once a snowflake has melted, it can never be reborn the same way.”

A single, silent tear slipped from Juan’s eye as she vowed to herself that they must try, or they may well have to suffer the consequence of the avalanche.


USS ANGEL
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1647 FST

The scene outside the Angel’s recreation room window was stunning in and of itself, but to Gabby’s eyes it was almost hypnotising. Having been confined to sickbay since the accident that almost took her life on Zethander she had seen nothing beyond the confines of her ward that wasn’t restricted to a small monitor screen above her bed.

She watched intently as shuttles and workbees flowed between and around the three recently rescued civilian refugee ships and the two Starfleet vessels in attendance. Off in the distance, the slow but regular pulsation of the temporal anomaly once again brought her mind back to the disappearance of the USS Blackwell and Homer.

Suddenly aware that Mo had been speaking to her, Gabby looked up guiltily.

“I’m sorry Mo that was so rude of me. I was literally miles away.”

Mo nodded in appreciation of Gabby’s thoughts. “I suspect you were only thinking about what I was talking about anyway. Homer by any chance?”

Gabby nodded her face troubled. “It just seems so unfair Mo. I find him, I fall in love with him and…damn it, just when things are looking good, I forget him.”

“But now you remember it all again Gabby.” She took her friend’s hand and squeezed it to gain her full attention. “Look, before Homer left on that mission he talked to me about the message he left for you, and the message wasn’t the important thing. It was the reason he left it that was important.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mo sighed as she sought a way to explain Homer’s feelings in his absence. “You know what it’s like being a pilot Gabby. The rush when you launch, the buzz of flying itself and you accept the danger of throwing yourself around space in a tin can because it’s what you live for.”

Gabby nodded slowly.

“Well that’s the same for all of us and particularly Homer, but when he met you his priorities changed. Oh he wouldn’t give up flying for anything, but until you he’d only ever had to worry about himself. I’m about as close as he’s got to family other than his parents but we almost always flew together so the risk was shared and we never really talked about it.”

A light of dawning realisation shone in Gabby’s eyes then and Mo pushed on.

“I’ll bet somewhere in that message was the line “no matter what, I’ll make it back if I can because of you” right?”

Gabby’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded again, unable to speak.

“That’s what I thought. Look, since that night in the pilot’s club on Zethander, I’ve never seen him so…” Mo struggled for the words to convey Homer’s change. “So possessed with living I guess. If he has to rip that runabout apart and make a pair of wings to flap his way back he’ll do it Gabby. Because of you.”

Mo placed an arm around her friend’s shoulders as she sobbed uncontrollably and thought quietly, And I’ll do my damndest to help him.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 12 (cont)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 12 (cont)


DASHT-E KAVIR (CENTRAL DESERT)
IRAN
EARTH
12th January 2026 – 1833 IRST (1503 UTC)

Prior to 1935, Iran was known as Persia and had been one of the greatest empires of the ancient world. Now in the 21st century it had maintained a distinct cultural identity within the Islamic world by retaining its own language and adhering to the Shia interpretation of Islam.

Unfortunately its standing in the world had fallen greatly since those heady days of empire despite its potential to succeed. It possessed nearly a tenth of the world's oil, yet fuel was rationed. Inflation remained at unprecedented levels, and while the country still boasted the biggest reserves of natural gas in the Middle East (and second only to Russia globally), its consumption was also markedly high, behind only the US and Russia.

Time and again, its government made the mistake of offending the world’s sensibilities in numerous dangerous ways and despite sanctions and threats of further action, the Shia Muslim clerics who led the country held to their hard line that they had maintained since the deposing of the Shah.

In the past few years rounds of sanctions had been imposed by the United Nations Security Council to little effect. These included asset restrictions and travel bans on Iranian individuals and companies said to be involved in nuclear work and a ban on the sale to Iran of so-called dual-use items - items which could have either a military or civilian purpose.

Such sanctions had done little other than increase the amount of anti-western rhetoric coming from Iran and they had dug their heels in becoming even more isolationist. It also led to the belief that it would be strengthened internally by external confrontation, a belief which on the whole had proved correct.

Around the world, worries and fears over Iran’s recalcitrance had grown particularly towards its defiance over its nuclear intentions. The country living most in the shadow of a potential nuclear Iran was of course Israel. The enmity between the two states had been long standing and in an effort to gain its own insight into Iran’s intentions, Israel had launched several intelligence gathering satellites over the years.

It was one of these, an Ofeq-10, that now passed some 800 kilometres above the Dasht-e Kavir, Iran’s Central Desert, probing with sensors that could penetrate the cloud cover and still give high definition, real-time returns from the earth below.

Purely by chance, the satellite caught movement in an area where there should have been none. Transmitting an alert, analysts in an annexe deep below the offices of the Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations in Tel Aviv saw that one...no, two of the older Russian supplied air defence missile systems had moved into position near the town of Jandaq.

Mossad was naturally interested in any movement of Iranian military hardware but it was catching these particular tracked units in the open that led to a separate discovery.

Some 30 kilometres off the road that led north from Jandaq and located out in the wilds of the desert they saw activity around the battered remains of a small oasis settlement.

Military trucks, armoured personnel carriers and jeeps were hurriedly being hidden under camouflage netting amidst the rubble of the small town that had been destroyed by one of Iran’s numerous earthquakes. Strangely, military personnel seemed to be outnumbered by civilians and on closer examination the majority of these were handcuffed together.

By the time Ofeq-10 passed out of range, a signal had been dispatched to Mossad’s field intelligence officers, or katsas, who were already in country. It wouldn’t be long before the discovery of the truth threatened to turn the Middle East into fields of fire.


MISSION OPERATIONS
UNITED STATES AIR FORCE GLOBAL STRIKE COMMAND
BARKSDALE AIR FORCE BASE
LOUISIANA, USA
EARTH
12th January 2026 – 0925 CST (1525 UTC)

When Green had returned early to Barksdale AFB, Eddington had asked whether he felt that his problems had now been resolved. Quietly and confidently, he’d assured the Colonel that not only were they resolved but that the resolution had brought a change in him that even he hadn’t been expecting.

He’d worked hard and Eddington had been impressed at that change, foolishly complimenting himself on having made the right decision.

Green had occasionally passed on titbits of information to Raven when requested. Flight times and manifests of aircraft flying into the Middle East theatre, satellite schedule changes and the like. It was all information that wouldn’t be difficult for Green to access and Raven had specifically told him that if there was a risk of compromise, not to act.

In Green, there was no feeling of guilt at this betrayal of his country. He now lived for himself, and while ostensibly subordinate to Eddington and the chain of command, he lived in an artificial bubble of freedom with subordination to no man, or so he believed.

The effects of the implant no longer needed to be supported by drugs and Green was totally unaware that in fact his life was under the total control of Raven. He was almost like an alcoholic in denial. He saw no major issue with what he was doing and was convinced that should he wish one day to tell Raven no more, he could do it without consequence.

Of course that wasn’t the case and like the alcoholic, he obliviously continued on his course of self destruction.


THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON DC, USA
EARTH
12th January 2026 – 1100 MST (1600 UTC)

When Madeline Everett entered the room, six smartly dressed naval officers wearing the Trident of the US Navy SEALS on their chests came to attention. She noticed with a smile that the older of the two Chinese nationals stole a rather undiplomatic glance in her direction.

Admiral Packard, at the head of the line walked along slowly behind Madeline introducing each member of the team by rank and name, and she spoke quietly and with dignity to each one of them. To her, this wasn’t just a case of going through the motions, giving the medals and then back to business. She was genuinely honoured, and in truth slightly awed to meet these men.

After being introduced to the younger Chinese man, Dong Xu, and having received heartfelt thanks for bringing his family to safety she finally met Liu Heng.

“Mr Liu,” she smiled, “of all the people in this room, you are the one who I perhaps know least about.”

With an odd twinkle in his eye that hinted at mischief, he bowed his head. “That, Madam President, is because I prefer to remain inscrutable, or so Captain Mitchell regularly informs me. In truth it is more likely that there is little to know.”

“I somehow doubt that Mr Liu. I’ve read the reports and to my mind you are, like the others in this room today, a man of honour, dignity and immense bravery and you have my personal thanks.”

Liu, much to the amazement of Mitchell, actually blushed and seemed lost for words.

“I believe it was Confucius who said “Wisdom, compassion, and courage are the three universally recognized moral qualities of men” Mr Liu and it would appear you have them in abundance.”

Liu smiled. “Then on behalf of Confucius, may I apologise that the proverb did not conclude with “and women” Madame President. And if I may offer you a quote in return?”

Chuckling, and curious in spite of herself, Madeline said “By all means.”

“It was another of my countrymen, Sun Tzu who said “The leader who takes on the role of the commander, without understanding the strategy of warfare invites defeat.” I believe Sun Tzu would have seen the perfect commander in you Madame President.” He bowed and it was Madeline’s turn to blush.

“I can see you had your work cut out with Mr Liu Captain Mitchell.”

“Seriously Madam President, you have no idea,” he laughed.

Though the presentation ceremony was private due to the very nature of the mission in China, it was a dignified and respectful occasion particularly for Madeline Everett. She knew that all too often the Medal of Honour for the military men had been awarded posthumously. She was simply glad that this time she could discharge her duty to the living. At the end of the military presentation, Captain Alec Mitchell stepped forward and saluted.

“Madam President, it is with a mixture of pride and sorrow that my men and I accept these decorations today. Pride in the tacit knowledge that our duty both to our country and our service was carried out to the best of our abilities and met with success; sorrow that so many of our comrades have not returned with us to also partake in this ceremony. It is my honour bound duty therefore to pledge the support of those members of Team Leopard here today in assisting in any recovery of further survivors of this mission.”

Mitchell saluted smartly once again and then stepped back into line.

Madeline eyed the man quietly for a few moments. In the short time that she’d known the Captain, his attitude and bearing had so reminded her of Michael that it had been uncanny. Physically they weren’t similar at all but just occasionally, the quirk of his smile or the timbre of his voice had cast her back to happier days.

“Thank you Captain,” she said at last. “I share your sorrow for your missing comrades and I need you to believe me when I say that if there is any chance whatsoever of repatriating them, whatever it may take, then it will be done.”

He nodded once accepting the sincerity in her words and once again felt admiration for the woman he served.

Next she presented the Presidential Medal of Freedom to the two Chinese nationals, soon to become naturalized American citizens. Once again, it was Liu who spoke, his tone this time less playful.

“Madame President, on behalf of my son, my family and myself, we thank you for this honour. On behalf of the people of the free world, I offer thanks for your courage and determination in defending those who do not have the ability to defend themselves. Thank you.”

“Gentlemen, the world may never know the bravery and fortitude that you have shown during your mission and its aftermath, and I sincerely regret that. However, your Commander in Chief knows it and it is something I will never forget.” She surveyed the line of disparate characters in the room before her with a level gaze. “Just because the free world does not know of your actions, however, does not mean they do not owe you their thanks. Unconditionally, on their behalf I say thank you.”

Packard brought the men to attention, even Liu mimicking their military stance, and formally dismissed them.

“Captain Mitchell?”

Mitchell turned as Madeline called his name.

“Would you mind remaining behind for a short while please?”

She noticed him exchange looks with Packard who smiled knowingly and nodded.

“Certainly Ma’am.”

Once the door had closed and they were alone, she offered him a seat by the fireplace and then sat down opposite him.

“Captain, I’d like to offer you the chance for a slight career change that you may find interesting.”

 

[Gibraltar]

Though I know the worst is yet to come, I breathed a sigh of relief that at least Team Leopard got home intact.

It looks as though tragedy strikes on the brink of peace, if the goodwill of these two world leaders is genuine.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Don't forget, the climax of World War III is still some 27 years away for Everett and Juan and much is still to occur that will affect both world politics, personal lives and security across the globe in that quarter century!

I'm hoping that this story is achieving several things.

1. Filling in some holes in Trek history. We've heard of WWIII, Green, Flint and...other things to come (he-he!) but they've never been fleshed out properly.

2. I wanted to do something different with Trek and while staying faithful to canon, take my story-telling in a slightly different direction.

3. BUT I also wanted to keep Trek in there with its myriad difficulties and human stories.

To all those still reading, (and I can see there's quite a few!) I would dearly like to know from YOU the reader if this is working?

Leave a reply if you have time guys n gals, I'd really appreciate it.

 

[unusualsuspex]

Chapter 13

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is trademarked and copyrighted by CBS Studios.
NO infringement is intended. All other material is copyright to Unusualsuspex 2010.


Chapter 13


DASHT-E KAVIR (CENTRAL DESERT)
IRAN
EARTH
16th January 2026 – 0137 IRST (15th January 2207 UTC)

In Hebrew, the title Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations translated as HaMossad leModi'in uleTafkidim Meyuchadim which over the years had been shortened to simply Mossad, or the Institute.

But however it was referred to, Mossad had a fearsome reputation. In its lifetime, it had been accused of perceived excessive actions against Israel's enemies. Actions such as assassinations, abductions and torture had all been laid at its doorstep. Whatever the truth behind these accusations, the one outstanding truth remained that in the defence of Israel, they were a fearsome and loyal force.

Within the ranks of this ultra secretive service was the Special Operations Division or ‘Metsada’, which was primarily tasked with assassination, paramilitary operations, sabotage, and psychological warfare.

It was Shira Ashkenazi, a field operative with Metsada, who had now been tasked with discovering the truth about the strange activities at the ruined village in Iran’s Central Desert along with her partner Daniel Segel. Together, dressed as local nomads, they had travelled the region for almost four months now, prepared to move at a moments notice from Tel Aviv, but they hadn’t expected it to be for this reason. Rumours of a large underground facility being built on the eastern borders of the Kavir National Park had prompted them to expect a journey west, not north.

In some respects they had been fortunate as the weather, until now bitterly cold, had turned slightly milder. Segel in particular had been counting the days until their repatriation to Israel although his complaints had remained good natured.

Now, as they quietly approached the location of the town, they remained silent communicating with hand gestures only. Overhead, thick cloud masked the moon and stars making travel less hazardous until now, but almost within sight of the town they had donned special thermal cloaks to mask their body heat signatures. At the moment they were unsure whether the troops at this strange garrison were regular army or Iran's notorious Islamic Revolution Guards Corps. Ashkenazi felt that if it turned out to be the latter, their job could prove…interesting.

An almost rainless climate in the Dasht-e Kavir combined with strong surface evaporation had created a crust of salt over the marsh and mud lands that made up the majority of the desert in this region. The Dasht-e Kavir itself was often better known as the Great Salt Desert, and because its salt marshes had properties similar to quicksand, travel in the area was extremely dangerous for the unwary.

Add to that the dangers presented by the many military restricted zones scattered throughout the area and it was easy to understand why Ashkenazi and Segel were hoping this might be their last mission before returning home again.

Segel abruptly held up his hand and pointed to his ear upon which they both dropped into a crouch, their cloaks hopefully masking their thermal signatures. In the near distance the sound of a diesel engine being turned over could be clearly heard along with bad tempered curses when it failed to catch.

Moving slowly towards the top of the dune they reached its crest and peered into the gloom ahead. Scattered low power lights on stands surrounded one of the old Tor-M1 air defence missile system units that Iran had purchased from Russia some years before.

Iran’s isolationist stance had affected its military badly when countries who had formerly provided spares and technical expertise for the systems had finally given up leaving the systems to either decay or be patched together for as long as they would last. Surprisingly, the tracked vehicle seemed in remarkably good condition other than its recalcitrant engine.

“You have thirty minutes to get this vehicle under cover before the satellite returns!” barked a voice from the darkness. “If it is still in the open then, it is not me you will have to answer to.”

A sudden flurry of activity descended on the scene, the threat obviously causing fear amongst the engineers.

Ashkenazi silently sidled across to Segel’s position and whispered, “What the hell are they protecting here?”

He shrugged and produced a pair of night vision goggles from the pouch at his waist. “Whatever it is has value obviously. Did you notice the condition of the Gauntlet?”

Gauntlet had been the West’s name for the Russian tracked vehicle.

“It certainly doesn’t appear to be sixteen years old,” she replied.

With a belch of diesel fumes, the engine came to life and the massive slab sided vehicle was carefully manoeuvred between the remains of what appeared to be a small storehouse. Thermal sheets were drawn over it and the engine immediately shut down to prevent excessive heat that might have been detected by the satellite as it passed over. The crewmen doused the lights and dragged them under cover as well.

“Now we wait,” he said, knowing that until the satellite had passed there would be no further activity.


YANGLIUQING
XIQING DISTRICT
TIANJIN
CHINA
EARTH
16th January 2026 – 0820 China Standard Time (15th January 2026 – 2320 UTC)

When the decryption of the remaining files from Huo’s computer had finally been completed, it had left Chimera bitterly disappointed. They had indeed gained more information but the most important parts of the puzzle had been missing.

For instance, they now knew that the projects had been in progress for almost six months and that so far there were at least eight research centres undertaking the work. What they didn’t know however was where the projects were located. Huo had made allusions in the files as to the project locations' innocuous appearance; “hidden in plain sight” was his actual phrase. With a country the size of China it became a task of finding the needle in the haystack but doing it blindfolded.

The other question that was worrying Chimera was exactly who was conducting the research and who they would now report to in Huo’s absence. It had become increasingly clear from some of the data that the facilities were to become autonomous in the event of a crisis, but what would that now mean? And were Chinese nationals running the projects or outsiders?

“There are still too many questions without answers,” he cursed softly. Turning to the comm system, he paged his personal security commander.

“Sir?”

“Mingli, I have a task for you of the utmost importance. I have transmitted several files to your personal inbox which require delicate investigation. The emphasis is on the word delicate. No outside agencies are to be involved is that understood?”

Song checked that the files had been received before returning his attention to his master. “Yes Sir, I have the files and understand the protocols to be followed. I’m assuming no state service involvement at all?”

“Nobody, Mingli, nobody at all. It is to be trusted only to your own staff, and one further thing. Should your investigations uncover anything, then absolutely no action is to be taken do I make myself clear? Observation only.”

Song nodded respectfully. “It shall be done Sir. What is the priority of this task?”

“The highest priority Mingli.” As the screen went dark, Chimera had the disquieting feeling that unless these centres were found and quickly neutralised, the ECoN’s very future was on the line and Huo would have his revenge from beyond the grave.


USS ANGEL
ARGOLIS SECTOR
UFP SPACE
September 16th 2371 – 1735 FST

The meal being prepared in Kat’s private quarters smelt delectable. It was very rare that hand made dishes were served aboard ship with the rare exception of diplomatic functions. Most of the food preparation was handled by the replicators, but for this particular meal Kat had wanted something special.

A portable range had been set up in the adjoining utility cabin and shortly the dishes would be served. Sat with her at the table were Emil Vaslovik and Chariscarpia and the conversation had been light and entertaining.

Chariscarpia freely admitted that although she didn’t require to eat now, the pleasure of doing so was not to be missed. Her taste buds were equal if not superior to any organic beings and besides, she had said, she looked forward to the company.

Kat had to admit that in her original form as a Chellantherian, Chariscarpia had been serene almost ethereal. Now, her appearance as a human had done nothing to detract from her beauty and her presence had taken on a substantiality that seemed to have been missing before. Emil seemed somewhat taken by the beautiful android and Kat smiled as she watched the interplay between them.

“So you didn’t realise that there was a cryogenic store aboard your vessel?”

Chariscarpia shrugged slightly. “You have to understand that I was, first and foremost, the pilot of the ship. In a sense I was the brain of the ship but I had little to do with its day to day operations, or at least not the ones that didn’t involve navigation and flight.”

Emil smiled in wonder at this beautiful woman, obviously transfixed at the juxtaposition of sentient mind and artificial body. “I have to confess that, in a professional capacity, I am intrigued by the process of sentience transference that should have taken place when your ship was destroyed.”

“That, I’m afraid is a somewhat vague concept for me Emil. The process itself is one that I underwent involuntarily, controlled as it was by the safety protocols hardwired into my ship. It’s almost like…” She paused for a moment, trying to find a suitable analogy but eventually had to give in. “I’m sorry Emil, I vaguely understand the concepts but it is an area of expertise I am not totally familiar with.”

The first dishes began to appear from next door and were placed discretely in the centre of the table.

“It may be,” continued Chariscarpia, “that once the prow sections of my vessel have been fully examined, the answers may lie there.”

Emil raised his glass. “Then here’s to revelation. However you arrived with us Chariscarpia, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

She raised her own glass and delicately clinked it against those of Emil and Kat before taking her first sip. Her eyes lit up and a bubble of laughter escaped her lips.

“Oh this is wonderful!” she chimed. “When I was a child, we use to have a drink called dehan. It was carbonated like this and we would always drink it chilled in the summer.” A small look of sadness momentarily crossed her face. “So long ago,” she whispered.

Noticing her dip in mood, Kat said, “I understand from Ensign Dixon that you’ve mastered the art of not having a double knee joint now.”

“Yes, thankfully Captain.” Kat thought she noticed the slightest hint of a blush in Chariscarpia’s cheeks. ”It took me several rather inelegant falls however. Vonny should be commended for the work she undertook on my behalf Captain. She often seems to undervalue her abilities.”

Kat was about to agree when the comm chimed.

“Captain, go ahead.”

“Captain, we’ve just received a distress call from the private yacht G’ethvenya out towards the Farius system. We believe it may be pirate activity.”

Kat stood quickly. “Details please Mr Janowski.”

“She’s a Thenet class vessel, warp capable, registered out of Betazed. Her flight plan indicates five on board heading home en route from Trill Captain.”

Kat ran quickly through the few details she knew of Farius Prime and didn’t reach many nice conclusions. An independent world, it was known to house at least one faction of the Orion Syndicate though it was unlike them to cause trouble on their own doorstep.

“Was it a live transmission or an automated beacon?”

“Automated Captain.”

She placed her napkin on the table and replied, “Very well Mr Janowski, I’ll be on the bridge shortly. Recall available runabouts and prepare me a patch through to Starfleet Command.”

“Aye Captain.”

As Janowski terminated the link, Kat turned to Emil and Chariscarpia.

“I’m sorry about this, obviously duty calls.” They both made to rise but she ushered them back into their seats. “Please, no. There’s no point all of us missing out on this gorgeous smelling food.” She looked longingly at the seafood starter in the centre of the table. “Besides, Starfleet may well retain us on station with the liners if they can detail another vessel to respond. I’ll let you know, but in the meantime save me a doggy bag.”

She gingerly snatched a small portion of steaming hot Chinese prawn toast from the dish before leaving Emil to explain what a doggy bag was to a slightly confused Chariscarpia.