QONOS.
The hover bikes roared down the gravel laden roads towards the estate, with intent. On approach to the main gates, the lead biker flipped up the covering on the activation button for the front mounted disruptors, and thumbed it repeatedly. The estate guards hardly a moment to react as they, along with the gates, were catapulted from their spot. The corpse’ & the gates eventually settled many meters away in a crumpled, smouldering heap of twisted iron & burning flesh. The group laughed over the intercoms of their helmets, as they roared down the estate road that would eventually lead them to the palatial house. The ground’s specially bred targ, bolted for cover as soon as they heard the oncoming roar of the bikes. Over the individual biker’s intercoms, Drex voice was unmistakeable.
"When we have ransacked the house, and performed the wishes of the Chancellor, we will enjoy a spot of rest and recreation by way of targ hunting!” The squad of the Chancellor’s Crimson Guard wholeheartedly agreed.
As they increased their speed, and other animals of the estate escaped to cover, the grand house loomed in the distance with the distinctive crest adorning the wall above the door. It would only be a matter of moments before the crest of the House Of Marax were removed, and replaced with the High Council’s emblem, denoting the property seized, and all titles stripped.
Some of the hover bikes moved off to take up spots to guard the perimeter, some back tracked to the gates, whilst Drex and the rest pushed the engines on the bikes to the limit as they neared the house.
His bike had hardly come to rest as Drex vaulted off, & landing with a resounding thud whilst spraying gravel everywhere, he launched himself shoulder first at the door whilst shouting the traditional verses that befell such an event.
The soldiers came to a standstill as Drex removed his helmet, almost ignoring the incoming reports of the gates & perimeter secured.
The hallway was empty.
No grand tapestries depicting the history of the house. No marble statues of great warriors from the family’s past. No paintings of soldiers of the empire. Not even the customary barrel of bloodwine & cups at the door. Not even a picture of Emperor Kahless graced the barren walls of the centuries old house, which had been passed down through the generations.
His men fanned out throughout the mansion, leaving no nook, cranny, or dark corner out of their search sweep.
Suddenly, one of Drex’s men vaulted down the stairs carrying an item that only gleamed in the sparse light that filtered through into the hall. Handing over to Drex what seemed clearly to be some kind of mechanism, Delk felt proud to have served his battalion well on his first official day of being posted to the Crimson Guard. Manoeuvring the device in his hand, Drex scanned the item to ensure it wasn’t some kind of explosive device. He discovered upon completion of his scans that although it wasn’t a weapon as such, it was more something that could be used as a weapon. Pressing what he had worked out to be the operating command buttons he disappeared, and momentarily reappeared. Then, his sharp Klingon eyes discovered a very small insignia on the portable cloak; Dominion.
Feeling his frustration mount, Drex felt a low growl build in his belly, until it built to a snarl, until it made its journeys end by becoming a roar as it exited his throat. “RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHH! The cowards have fled! Get me Chancellor Martok & Defence Command. They must have left Qonos!”
ALPHA FLYER.
Although he knew it was Duco underneath the chair, Craig found himself talking to his legs. The Alpha Flyer and its repairs were almost complete, and the boys had made a few enhancements whilst they were at it as well.
Duco was just finishing off modifications of the chairs, which would mean no more back ache for whoever should be occupying it. But then not all species had a spine, and so Jelvian officers wouldn’t feel the benefits. The seats had been overhauled and now had better lumbar support, as well heating elements. Craig sat in one and hit a button that was yet to be marked, although he knew pressing it wouldn’t cause a core dump or launch a torpedo. A faint whirring emanated from the back support as the massaging element worked its magic. "Aaaaahhh, this is good;” exclaimed Craig. “It’s a pity that we have to take her back to Spacedock today. But it sure beats boring escort duty.”
With his final adjustments completed, Duco appeared from underneath the chair, and lifted himself from the floor to standing position. Walking over to his toolbox placed on one of the side consoles, he tidied up the mess of dynospanners, wrenches, and other equipment away. "
We’ve definitely got back in the good books, I’m sure. With Ken’s guidance and assistance from the team where warranted, we have repaired the battle damage, made interior enhancements & upgrades, as well as adapting the hyper impulse intake manifolds to help squeeze out more power.”
Confidently, he grabbed the final tool to be put away, and flicked it in his hand, making it do a perfect somersault to land back in his hand, with the grip the right way. “I’ve even managed to convince Ken to leave his beloved engines behind, and join us on our pocket rocket!”
Craig was gobsmacked; “How did you manage to persuade him?”
Duco chuckled at how easy it had been, and how he had pandered to Ken’s nostalgia. “I told him about my collection of schematics of Starfleet vessels from his era. He was sold when i told him i had blueprints of the original Constitution Class, launched in the 2240’s, prior to all the subsequent upgrades and final major refit of the 2270’s.” But there was another purpose to getting Ken a change of scenery. He was spending far too much time trying to get Klix operational again. He had discovered that some of the language in the book, was similar to Klix’s native tongue, but that is as far as he had got to finding out what the purpose & origin of the book was.
Everytime the book was touched; it would project the plethora of images again, until the final projection of the humanoid head would appear. It would fizzle, and distort slightly as the image rotated, but it was almost as if it was waiting for some sort of interaction. Ken wanted to try placing the book in the comatose officer’s hands, but Simon was concerned for, and as he put it, any possible, unforeseen scenarios that could put the ship in danger. The only other option was to relinquish Klix to the Daystrom Institute, but all the senior officers agreed that, in itself, was a last resort.
Although Captain Maddox was a nobel prize winner in the field of cybernetics & robotics, Klix belonged on the Phoenix.
Kurt expressed that they would prod and poke at him until he had more perforations than a tea bag, and that ultimately, being surrounded by familiar faces was more comforting & productive then being surrounded by strangers. Simon was well aware that the doc could make his recommendations an official order, and Starfleet would back that. After all, Klix was, for better or worse, ill, if described in human terms. He was also Kurt’s patient; even though Ken’s engineering team would perform any repairs, or ‘cures’ to any ailments. "
Permission to come aboard!” Ken announced as he entered the Flyer. Duco glanced at Craig, which he instantly recognised that the Lieutenant clearly had mischief in mind. "
Welcome aboard Ken. Ok, it’s not a Constitution Class shuttle, but we think you’ll be impressed with the ride. In fact, I have a seat reserved just for you here, monitoring the engineering station.”
The chair that Duco invited Ken to sit in was the last chair he had recently completed. Sitting down, and resting his hands on the arm consoles, Ken sighed as he sank into the plush leather upholstery.
"Aaaaaahhhh!” he sighed, yet as promptly as he sat down, he shot up as the chairs lumbar massage facility whirred into action.
"What the….?!”
When his colleagues finally managed to compose themselves from their creased inducing laughter, Duco explained the enhanced chairs & all of their benefits, whilst demonstrating to Ken as he sat.
Checking the chronometer, Ken prompted Duco out of his proud demonstration; “You’d better get out of those oily overalls, and grab a sonic shower, as the time will soon be upon us to launch, and we haven’t done any prepatory pre-launch checks yet!”
Grabbing his toolbox in earnest, the Lieutenant disappeared out of the hatch. Craig laughed at his rarely seen burst of speed.
"The only time I have ever seen him move so fast, is when he has the opportunity to sink a pint of Bringloid synthehol!”
Warping through space, the Klingon prison barge, flanked by two Bird Of Prey’s, alongside the Federation escort of the Phoenix, & the two Defiant class cruisers, U.S.S. Arizona & U.S.S. Titanic, were a majestic sight to behold.
At the last minute, Admiral Ross, Chief Of Starfleet Operations & attaché to Federation President Bacco, thought it was best to have extra escorts, after reading the report of the mission to Ardana & a possible renewed Dominion threat. Simon had argued the point with Janeway who had informed Simon of the change of plans, that he felt confident that the changeling was just a one off incident, and that the Dominion had kept to their word & stayed in the Gamma Quadrant. But Janeway had orders, and the war veteran Bill Ross had become extremely paranoid that if one changeling had infiltrated a Federation world, & influenced society, how many more changelings or Vorta were there that had stayed behind in the Alpha Quadrant. Chancellor Martok & the new Romulan Senate had also voiced their concerns over the possibility that there were also stragglers in the Beta Quadrant.
The political machinations, constant reports, issues, and the crew evaluations had taken their toll on Simon, who had decided to have some well earned time off. As these thoughts whirled in his head, he decided it was best to leave it all to his able first officer whilst he lay back on his lounger in holodeck two, soaked up the sun, closed his eyes, & listened to the gentle lapping of the sea meeting the shore.
The hover bikes roared down the gravel laden roads towards the estate, with intent. On approach to the main gates, the lead biker flipped up the covering on the activation button for the front mounted disruptors, and thumbed it repeatedly. The estate guards hardly a moment to react as they, along with the gates, were catapulted from their spot. The corpse’ & the gates eventually settled many meters away in a crumpled, smouldering heap of twisted iron & burning flesh. The group laughed over the intercoms of their helmets, as they roared down the estate road that would eventually lead them to the palatial house. The ground’s specially bred targ, bolted for cover as soon as they heard the oncoming roar of the bikes. Over the individual biker’s intercoms, Drex voice was unmistakeable.
"When we have ransacked the house, and performed the wishes of the Chancellor, we will enjoy a spot of rest and recreation by way of targ hunting!” The squad of the Chancellor’s Crimson Guard wholeheartedly agreed.
As they increased their speed, and other animals of the estate escaped to cover, the grand house loomed in the distance with the distinctive crest adorning the wall above the door. It would only be a matter of moments before the crest of the House Of Marax were removed, and replaced with the High Council’s emblem, denoting the property seized, and all titles stripped.
Some of the hover bikes moved off to take up spots to guard the perimeter, some back tracked to the gates, whilst Drex and the rest pushed the engines on the bikes to the limit as they neared the house.
His bike had hardly come to rest as Drex vaulted off, & landing with a resounding thud whilst spraying gravel everywhere, he launched himself shoulder first at the door whilst shouting the traditional verses that befell such an event.
The soldiers came to a standstill as Drex removed his helmet, almost ignoring the incoming reports of the gates & perimeter secured.
The hallway was empty.
No grand tapestries depicting the history of the house. No marble statues of great warriors from the family’s past. No paintings of soldiers of the empire. Not even the customary barrel of bloodwine & cups at the door. Not even a picture of Emperor Kahless graced the barren walls of the centuries old house, which had been passed down through the generations.
His men fanned out throughout the mansion, leaving no nook, cranny, or dark corner out of their search sweep.
Suddenly, one of Drex’s men vaulted down the stairs carrying an item that only gleamed in the sparse light that filtered through into the hall. Handing over to Drex what seemed clearly to be some kind of mechanism, Delk felt proud to have served his battalion well on his first official day of being posted to the Crimson Guard. Manoeuvring the device in his hand, Drex scanned the item to ensure it wasn’t some kind of explosive device. He discovered upon completion of his scans that although it wasn’t a weapon as such, it was more something that could be used as a weapon. Pressing what he had worked out to be the operating command buttons he disappeared, and momentarily reappeared. Then, his sharp Klingon eyes discovered a very small insignia on the portable cloak; Dominion.
Feeling his frustration mount, Drex felt a low growl build in his belly, until it built to a snarl, until it made its journeys end by becoming a roar as it exited his throat. “RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHH! The cowards have fled! Get me Chancellor Martok & Defence Command. They must have left Qonos!”
ALPHA FLYER.
Although he knew it was Duco underneath the chair, Craig found himself talking to his legs. The Alpha Flyer and its repairs were almost complete, and the boys had made a few enhancements whilst they were at it as well.
Duco was just finishing off modifications of the chairs, which would mean no more back ache for whoever should be occupying it. But then not all species had a spine, and so Jelvian officers wouldn’t feel the benefits. The seats had been overhauled and now had better lumbar support, as well heating elements. Craig sat in one and hit a button that was yet to be marked, although he knew pressing it wouldn’t cause a core dump or launch a torpedo. A faint whirring emanated from the back support as the massaging element worked its magic. "Aaaaahhh, this is good;” exclaimed Craig. “It’s a pity that we have to take her back to Spacedock today. But it sure beats boring escort duty.”
With his final adjustments completed, Duco appeared from underneath the chair, and lifted himself from the floor to standing position. Walking over to his toolbox placed on one of the side consoles, he tidied up the mess of dynospanners, wrenches, and other equipment away. "
We’ve definitely got back in the good books, I’m sure. With Ken’s guidance and assistance from the team where warranted, we have repaired the battle damage, made interior enhancements & upgrades, as well as adapting the hyper impulse intake manifolds to help squeeze out more power.”
Confidently, he grabbed the final tool to be put away, and flicked it in his hand, making it do a perfect somersault to land back in his hand, with the grip the right way. “I’ve even managed to convince Ken to leave his beloved engines behind, and join us on our pocket rocket!”
Craig was gobsmacked; “How did you manage to persuade him?”
Duco chuckled at how easy it had been, and how he had pandered to Ken’s nostalgia. “I told him about my collection of schematics of Starfleet vessels from his era. He was sold when i told him i had blueprints of the original Constitution Class, launched in the 2240’s, prior to all the subsequent upgrades and final major refit of the 2270’s.” But there was another purpose to getting Ken a change of scenery. He was spending far too much time trying to get Klix operational again. He had discovered that some of the language in the book, was similar to Klix’s native tongue, but that is as far as he had got to finding out what the purpose & origin of the book was.
Everytime the book was touched; it would project the plethora of images again, until the final projection of the humanoid head would appear. It would fizzle, and distort slightly as the image rotated, but it was almost as if it was waiting for some sort of interaction. Ken wanted to try placing the book in the comatose officer’s hands, but Simon was concerned for, and as he put it, any possible, unforeseen scenarios that could put the ship in danger. The only other option was to relinquish Klix to the Daystrom Institute, but all the senior officers agreed that, in itself, was a last resort.
Although Captain Maddox was a nobel prize winner in the field of cybernetics & robotics, Klix belonged on the Phoenix.
Kurt expressed that they would prod and poke at him until he had more perforations than a tea bag, and that ultimately, being surrounded by familiar faces was more comforting & productive then being surrounded by strangers. Simon was well aware that the doc could make his recommendations an official order, and Starfleet would back that. After all, Klix was, for better or worse, ill, if described in human terms. He was also Kurt’s patient; even though Ken’s engineering team would perform any repairs, or ‘cures’ to any ailments. "
Permission to come aboard!” Ken announced as he entered the Flyer. Duco glanced at Craig, which he instantly recognised that the Lieutenant clearly had mischief in mind. "
Welcome aboard Ken. Ok, it’s not a Constitution Class shuttle, but we think you’ll be impressed with the ride. In fact, I have a seat reserved just for you here, monitoring the engineering station.”
The chair that Duco invited Ken to sit in was the last chair he had recently completed. Sitting down, and resting his hands on the arm consoles, Ken sighed as he sank into the plush leather upholstery.
"Aaaaaahhhh!” he sighed, yet as promptly as he sat down, he shot up as the chairs lumbar massage facility whirred into action.
"What the….?!”
When his colleagues finally managed to compose themselves from their creased inducing laughter, Duco explained the enhanced chairs & all of their benefits, whilst demonstrating to Ken as he sat.
Checking the chronometer, Ken prompted Duco out of his proud demonstration; “You’d better get out of those oily overalls, and grab a sonic shower, as the time will soon be upon us to launch, and we haven’t done any prepatory pre-launch checks yet!”
Grabbing his toolbox in earnest, the Lieutenant disappeared out of the hatch. Craig laughed at his rarely seen burst of speed.
"The only time I have ever seen him move so fast, is when he has the opportunity to sink a pint of Bringloid synthehol!”
Warping through space, the Klingon prison barge, flanked by two Bird Of Prey’s, alongside the Federation escort of the Phoenix, & the two Defiant class cruisers, U.S.S. Arizona & U.S.S. Titanic, were a majestic sight to behold.
At the last minute, Admiral Ross, Chief Of Starfleet Operations & attaché to Federation President Bacco, thought it was best to have extra escorts, after reading the report of the mission to Ardana & a possible renewed Dominion threat. Simon had argued the point with Janeway who had informed Simon of the change of plans, that he felt confident that the changeling was just a one off incident, and that the Dominion had kept to their word & stayed in the Gamma Quadrant. But Janeway had orders, and the war veteran Bill Ross had become extremely paranoid that if one changeling had infiltrated a Federation world, & influenced society, how many more changelings or Vorta were there that had stayed behind in the Alpha Quadrant. Chancellor Martok & the new Romulan Senate had also voiced their concerns over the possibility that there were also stragglers in the Beta Quadrant.
The political machinations, constant reports, issues, and the crew evaluations had taken their toll on Simon, who had decided to have some well earned time off. As these thoughts whirled in his head, he decided it was best to leave it all to his able first officer whilst he lay back on his lounger in holodeck two, soaked up the sun, closed his eyes, & listened to the gentle lapping of the sea meeting the shore.
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