Hello, I'm a new member here at Trek BBS, and a first-time author of Star Trek fan fiction. I wanted to put a new spin on the subject of fan fiction by writing a story dealing with something that was discussed in a Trek episode but never seen -- that is, instead of creating entirely new characters/ideas, simply expanding on unseen aspects of Star Trek.
The first story I have written, "A Gift of Fire," details the capture of the USS Prometheus, as shown somewhat in "Message in a Bottle." I wanted to fill in the backstory as to why the Romulans seized the ship, but also tell another unseen element of that episode: the EMH's revelation to Starfleet of Voyager's current position, as well as the launching of Starfleet's efforts to find the vessel.
Without further ado, here is Part 1 of "A Gift of Fire":
A Gift of Fire (Part I)
The Capture of the Prometheus and the Discovery of Voyager
TAL SHIAR HEADQUARTES, ROMULUS: STARDATE 51458
Commander Rekar emerged from the turbolift and onto the steel floor of Level 25. Like on most floors of Tal Shiar Headquarters, the lights had been dimmed by at least fifty percent and the walls painted a dark shade of gray. Stepping out of a turbolift there was like stepping into a passageway that led straight to a void. This ominous atmosphere, combined with the building’s typically Romulan drabness and dull uniformity, had never appealed to Rekar, and in fact it had disgusted him, but he had no choice but to show up. A handwritten communiqué—the normal Tal Shiar method of summoning—told him to appear before the Committee at 0900.
Rekar walked unhurriedly down the hall. His footsteps seemed to echo, even though the hallway was not big enough to produce such a sound; he could also hear a eerie, barely perceptible hum. He continued walking, seeing only a dark mass in front of him, and he wondered when the hall would end, if it ever did. He had heard stories of the Tal Shiar devising inventive methods of dispatching unfavorable agents, and having someone walk down an endless hall would certainly be inventive, if a bit expensive. It must be just a few more steps—
The two Reman guards seemed to appear out of nowhere, illuminated from above by light fixtures. They flanked an imposing double-door painted with the hawk-like crest of the Tal Shiar. Each held in their hands sharp-tipped pikes taller than themselves, which Rekar knew were ceremonial rather than practical: a Reman could kill with any number of concealed weapons, whether disruptors or knives, or, more effectively, their bare hands. Rekar never cared for the reptilian-like beings, with their elongated craniums and cavernous eye sockets, but he respected their deadliness, and paused immediately.
“Commander Rekar,” a voice boomed. It was not from the Remans and was not from any visible communication device.
“I have arrived,” Rekar replied, straightening.
“Hold for identity verification scan.”
The Commander stood still. There was no sound and no light indicating a scan. He watched the Remans. They stood unblinking, unmoving.
A few moments passed. “Enter,” came the voice. The double doors opened, revealing a blood-red, circular door beyond. Rekar stepped through the threshold and the double doors closed behind him like an airlock. The red door then slid open, revealing the Committee Room of the Tal Shiar: the nerve center of the organization, and some said the Romulan Star Empire itself.
In front of Rekar was a half-circle table, seated around which were four High Operatives of the Tal Shiar and at the head, the Chairman himself, Koval. To Koval’s left sat Devant, of the Intelligence Committee, as well as Didius, the elderly Senate liaison. To the Chairman’s right were Vorick, Director of the Special Operations Division, and Lorema, Director of the Expeditionary Forces. All ten eyes were focused intently on the newly arrived Commander.
“Commander Rekar,” Koval said. “We are pleased you found time to make the journey to Level 25.” A paper-thin smile appeared on the gaunt and angular face of the Chairman.
“I wouldn’t have done otherwise, Chariman,” replied the Commander. In fact, he couldn’t have done otherwise.
“We have an operation we want implemented very soon, and when reviewing the candidates for leaders, your name stood out. I might add that this list consisted of both active and in-active agents, such as yourself.”
“Might I ask the Committee why I was chosen over the other candidates?” Rekar had been on inactive duty ever since the turmoil surrounding the failed attack on the Founder’s Homeworld in the Omarion Nebula. The organization was essentially gutted following that incident, and until he was summoned back to active duty a day before, Rekar had been commanding a warbird on the outskirts of Romulan space.
“Your record is exemplary,” Lorema answered. She consulted a datapad on the table in front of her. “Service at our embassy on Tzenketh before and during the war, surveillance of the Frunalian System, and of course, the event we find most significant. The raid on the Klingon cruiser three years ago.”
“I was most impressed by this mission,” Vorick added. As Vorick was Rekar’s ultimate superior, both in the present and in the past, this was a good sign. “It was a masterful stroke, seizing a vessel so close to the Neutral Zone. And a Vor’cha, no less, one of their most powerful starships.”
Rekar was hesitant. “How, may I ask, was it masterful? We were returning from a routine mission when we quite accidentally detected the Klingon ship decloaking. My men decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so we attacked and boarded the Vor’cha. Standard operating procedure.” He did not recite the fact that many of his operatives had died trying to pry the ship from the hands of its bloodthirsty Klingon crew.
“It’s all in the details, Rekar,” Vorick responded. “While you may have caught them spying on the border by chance, the operation to seize the vessel was most calculated. You exploited a sensor blind spot in the wake of their impulse trail, then decloaked right on their stern. Their guard was down. You disabled their shields, then swiftly transported on board, not caring that your vessel had been destroyed by their disruptors.” Rekar did not add that his band of Tal Shiar commandos, suddenly without an escape ship, had much incentive to seize the vessel.
“And now,” Vorick continued, “Thanks to your efforts, the Empire has a fully operational Klingon cruiser for study.”
“Yes, it was quite an operation,” Rekar said.
“There’s another reason you will be good for our mission.” This time it was Devant’s turn to praise Rekar. “Any team you’ve commanded has been required to learn how to operate foreign vessels, especially Federation, Klingon, Cardassian, and Vulcan.”
“And we know you yourself are familiar with foreign designs,” Lorema finished. Rekar suddenly noticed the way Lorema was staring at him, as if she was studying his reaction to the recitation of his mission. She must’ve known it was a painful topic for Rekar. He didn’t believe she was looking at Rekar with a sense of attraction—there was something else behind her concentrated gaze, but Rekar couldn’t place it.
“That is correct,” Rekar said. “There was a time when the Tal Shiar taught those things.” It was a swipe at the current state of the organization—an organization forced to cut costs, and effectiveness, following the disastrous raid on the Omarion Nebula. Only after the Dominion War had the Senate given the Tal Shiar the right to use military starships, and recruitment levels had yet to recover from the Omarion debacle. “But why does all this qualify me for this particular mission?”
“It qualifies you because now we don’t have to look elsewhere,” Koval said. “We have you.”
The Commander swallowed. “May I ask again what the mission is?”
Vorick was eager to provide the details. “It will be similar to the Klingon operation, only much more…sensitive.”
“How so?”
“Commander, this is a sensitive time. The Dominion is rampaging through the Alpha Quadrant, and the war is creeping to our borders. Already Romulans have been caught in the crossfire. We have a nonaggression pact with the Dominion, but of course, that could change at any moment. And lest we forget, the Federation looms at the other end of the Neutral Zone, fighting the Dominion and wary of any sort of external assault. Any attack on them might seem like a strike from an ally of the Dominion.”
“So the operation involves the Federation?”
“It does,” Lorema said.
Vorick continued. “During the occupation of the Bajor Sector by the Dominion earlier this year, our ships kept a close eye on the comings and goings of both belligerents, Dominion or Federation. We were especially interested in the Federation evacuation of the Beta Antares shipyards, just a few light years from Bajor. Starfleet moved all of their uncompleted and new vessels to more secure facilities, but not before we were able to get a glimpse of their designs.
“Our reconnaissance revealed the presence of a new type of Federation starship, one previously unseen and newly launched. We checked with our sources on Antares, as well as within the Federation, and learned that a top secret vessel has been undergoing trials at Beta Antares for some time.”
“I see. And what makes this vessel so valuable?”
“It utilizes what is known as a Multi-Vector Assault Mode. It is highly experimental. During combat, the ship will separate into three sections, each operating independently and each with the ability to engage enemy vessels.”
“After the retaking of Deep Space Nine,” Devant added, “The ship returned to the Beta Antares shipyards. There, we observed one test. It was quite interesting.”
“You did this so easily?”
“Rekar, remember that while the ship was highly classified to most of Starfleet, it was not heavily guarded, so as to not draw attention from the rest of the fleet.”
“You must know that there are three factors working in our favor here,” Vorick said. “One, is that the Federation engineers have already commissioned and thoroughly tested the vessel, meaning there will be no impediment to our operation of it. Second, if the Empire were to gain hold of this vessel, it would allow us to have a ship worthy enough to oppose either the Dominion or the Federation, superior even to our warbirds. Additionally, and most importantly, we would be able to duplicate the Multi-Vector technology and use it on our own vessels.”
“Won’t the Federation realize we have stolen the starship?” Rekar asked.
“Surely this would mean war!”
“As I said, the mission is sensitive. The way this operation is planned, your team takes the ship, but without letting the Federation know who took it. The vessel would simply disappear, and by the time they sent out a search party, you will be safely across the Neutral Zone.”
“But won’t Starfleet track it?”
“We have a simple method to combat the threat. Once we reach a secluded system close to the Neutral Zone, the ship will meet with three warbirds and quickly be fitted with a cloaking device. As long as your team prepares the ship beforehand, we can have it installed in minutes. Then, we simply pilot it to Romulus, where the Tal Shiar will make use of it.”
“Does the Senate know of this?” Rekar looked straight at Koval, the man always attempting to move up in the government hierarchy, but he said nothing.
Didius, who had until now remained silent, answered. “Obviously, they approve all operations beneficial to the Empire.”
Which meant they didn’t. Rekar wasn’t one to put the Senate before the organization he swore to defend, but he knew the power they wielded. It was they who had diminished the Tal Shiar’s strength following the Omarion fiasco, it was they who had approved the nonaggression pact with the Dominion, and it was they who had concluded that it was best to wait until the conflict had drawn its course to join a side. He suspected, though, that they would never approve an action that might lead to war with the Federation, at least not at such a sensitive time.
It seemed as though Vorick read his mind. “The Federation, of course, would never retaliate against us. For one, they would never know we stole the vessel, if all goes according to plan. In fact, they would no doubt assume it was the Dominion. They could not risk opening a new front in the war by coming after us, since it would mean drawing resources away from the Dominion fight. And even if they prevailed in this war—high unlikely, by our estimates—they would be going up against their own advanced technology.”
The Committee had laid out a good case for this mission. Rekar did not object to the idea, since maintaining a technological balance with the Federation was always part of Tal Shiar doctrine. Any new technology to the Empire would serve it well, especially in the current, uncertain time. But he still did not believe the mission was feasible, or thoughtfully developed.
“Do you accept, Commander?” asked Koval, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands together. Rekar knew it was wise to answer the Chairman immediately.
“Of course, Chairman.” He looked at the other members of the Committee, especially Vorick, who look unusually pleased with himself. After all, he had undoubtedly impressed Koval with his knowledge of the ship and of Rekar. His eyes turned to Lorema, who ever so slightly turned her head to Koval. The Commander knew little about her, and he would be sure to check into her background.
“Exceptional,” the Chairman replied. “Then you will proceed to Station Val’reth on Folloss Continent tomorrow at 0800, prompt and prepared for departure. Your team will be selected by us before you arrive, but of course you will be in command of them.”
“Thank you, Chairman.” Rekar bowed, and turned to the red door behind him. It yawned open, and he exited the Committee Chamber. Rekar briskly went to the turbolift, but he could sense the Reman eyes on his back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
STARBASE 400, NEAR THE ANTARES SYSTEM: STARDATE 51460.2
Admiral Sorenson sat facing the viewport, stargazing. He was waiting eagerly for the ship to arrive, and he had scheduled his own lunch break so he could be available during the appointed time. His office communicator buzzed.
“Yes, Groya?”
“Sir, the Prometheus has arrived. They’re requesting permission to dock.”
“Of course. I’ll be right out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sorenson composed himself and looked out the viewport. The quad-nacelled, dagger shape of the Prometheus came into view. An excited grin appeared on his aged face. The ship he had spent two decades designing had finally returned to meet its maker, and Sorenson wanted to reciprocate and meet its current owner.
-----------
Captain Ali Faris opened his eyes once the transporter beam had completely dissipated. He was queasy enough whenever he beamed somewhere, but the fact that Chief Soka had told him the Prometheus was having problems with the pattern buffers made the trip even worse. The transporters were state of the art, yet like all new technologies, they had a few glitches to work out.
Accompanying Faris were Lt. Commander Arlin Chigot, the ship’s stately Andorian first officer, and Lt. Lloyd Neave, one of the few helmsmen trained to fully operate the Prometheus. The three stepped down from the transporter pad to meet Sorenson’s Bolian assistant, Groya.
“Welcome to Starbase 400,” Groya said. “We’re pleased you could make it.”
“Of course,” Faris replied. “We wouldn’t deprive the Admiral of a chance to view his, uh…brainchild.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Please come with me, you can wait in the lounge until Admiral Sorenson arrives. It will only be a moment.”
Groya led them through the halls of the space station, a massive complex located a few light years from Beta Antares itself. After a few winding corridors, they exited into the lounge of Starbase 400. The lounge was actually more of an atrium, with a bar and a row of replicators on the lower level and balconies on the walls above them. In the middle of the lounge was a holographic Federation crest and the words STARBASE 400; crowding around it were beings of all kinds, whether they were Starfleet crew members, haggling trades, or visiting dignitaries. Groya led the three guests to a table and instructed them to wait.
“The admiral will be down shortly. Feel free to have something to eat.”
“Thank you,” Faris replied, and the three sat. After Groya left, he looked with amusement at Chigot.
“Some operation they got going here,” he said. “So polite. A much better reception than Starbase 92. It seemed like they couldn’t wait to get us to leave.”
“Maybe it’s where they’re located,” Chigot wondered. “Maybe the further you get from Earth and the more you get into the…how do you humans say it?...boonies, the friendlier you become.”
“Friendly, maybe,” Faris said, “But a whole lot of them end up going crazy out here.”
“I think that’s Sorenson,” Neave said, pointing.
Their heads turned. Admiral David Sorenson, very close to retirement age and with a hairline to prove it, was heading right for them, beaming. All three of them stood, and Faris caught the Admiral’s extended hand.
“Captain Faris, I’m honored to meet you.”
“Likewise, Admiral. This is my first officer, Commander Chigot, and my Operational Helmsman, Lt. Neave.”
“Ah, Operational Helsman! I know that title!” Sorenson squeezed Neave’s hand. “Tell me, have you tried out the Multi-Vector—”
“Admiral,” Faris interrupted, “We’re in a public place.”
“Ah yes. Well, then, let’s go to my office. The walls don’t have ears there.”
The first story I have written, "A Gift of Fire," details the capture of the USS Prometheus, as shown somewhat in "Message in a Bottle." I wanted to fill in the backstory as to why the Romulans seized the ship, but also tell another unseen element of that episode: the EMH's revelation to Starfleet of Voyager's current position, as well as the launching of Starfleet's efforts to find the vessel.
Without further ado, here is Part 1 of "A Gift of Fire":
A Gift of Fire (Part I)
The Capture of the Prometheus and the Discovery of Voyager
TAL SHIAR HEADQUARTES, ROMULUS: STARDATE 51458
Commander Rekar emerged from the turbolift and onto the steel floor of Level 25. Like on most floors of Tal Shiar Headquarters, the lights had been dimmed by at least fifty percent and the walls painted a dark shade of gray. Stepping out of a turbolift there was like stepping into a passageway that led straight to a void. This ominous atmosphere, combined with the building’s typically Romulan drabness and dull uniformity, had never appealed to Rekar, and in fact it had disgusted him, but he had no choice but to show up. A handwritten communiqué—the normal Tal Shiar method of summoning—told him to appear before the Committee at 0900.
Rekar walked unhurriedly down the hall. His footsteps seemed to echo, even though the hallway was not big enough to produce such a sound; he could also hear a eerie, barely perceptible hum. He continued walking, seeing only a dark mass in front of him, and he wondered when the hall would end, if it ever did. He had heard stories of the Tal Shiar devising inventive methods of dispatching unfavorable agents, and having someone walk down an endless hall would certainly be inventive, if a bit expensive. It must be just a few more steps—
The two Reman guards seemed to appear out of nowhere, illuminated from above by light fixtures. They flanked an imposing double-door painted with the hawk-like crest of the Tal Shiar. Each held in their hands sharp-tipped pikes taller than themselves, which Rekar knew were ceremonial rather than practical: a Reman could kill with any number of concealed weapons, whether disruptors or knives, or, more effectively, their bare hands. Rekar never cared for the reptilian-like beings, with their elongated craniums and cavernous eye sockets, but he respected their deadliness, and paused immediately.
“Commander Rekar,” a voice boomed. It was not from the Remans and was not from any visible communication device.
“I have arrived,” Rekar replied, straightening.
“Hold for identity verification scan.”
The Commander stood still. There was no sound and no light indicating a scan. He watched the Remans. They stood unblinking, unmoving.
A few moments passed. “Enter,” came the voice. The double doors opened, revealing a blood-red, circular door beyond. Rekar stepped through the threshold and the double doors closed behind him like an airlock. The red door then slid open, revealing the Committee Room of the Tal Shiar: the nerve center of the organization, and some said the Romulan Star Empire itself.
In front of Rekar was a half-circle table, seated around which were four High Operatives of the Tal Shiar and at the head, the Chairman himself, Koval. To Koval’s left sat Devant, of the Intelligence Committee, as well as Didius, the elderly Senate liaison. To the Chairman’s right were Vorick, Director of the Special Operations Division, and Lorema, Director of the Expeditionary Forces. All ten eyes were focused intently on the newly arrived Commander.
“Commander Rekar,” Koval said. “We are pleased you found time to make the journey to Level 25.” A paper-thin smile appeared on the gaunt and angular face of the Chairman.
“I wouldn’t have done otherwise, Chariman,” replied the Commander. In fact, he couldn’t have done otherwise.
“We have an operation we want implemented very soon, and when reviewing the candidates for leaders, your name stood out. I might add that this list consisted of both active and in-active agents, such as yourself.”
“Might I ask the Committee why I was chosen over the other candidates?” Rekar had been on inactive duty ever since the turmoil surrounding the failed attack on the Founder’s Homeworld in the Omarion Nebula. The organization was essentially gutted following that incident, and until he was summoned back to active duty a day before, Rekar had been commanding a warbird on the outskirts of Romulan space.
“Your record is exemplary,” Lorema answered. She consulted a datapad on the table in front of her. “Service at our embassy on Tzenketh before and during the war, surveillance of the Frunalian System, and of course, the event we find most significant. The raid on the Klingon cruiser three years ago.”
“I was most impressed by this mission,” Vorick added. As Vorick was Rekar’s ultimate superior, both in the present and in the past, this was a good sign. “It was a masterful stroke, seizing a vessel so close to the Neutral Zone. And a Vor’cha, no less, one of their most powerful starships.”
Rekar was hesitant. “How, may I ask, was it masterful? We were returning from a routine mission when we quite accidentally detected the Klingon ship decloaking. My men decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so we attacked and boarded the Vor’cha. Standard operating procedure.” He did not recite the fact that many of his operatives had died trying to pry the ship from the hands of its bloodthirsty Klingon crew.
“It’s all in the details, Rekar,” Vorick responded. “While you may have caught them spying on the border by chance, the operation to seize the vessel was most calculated. You exploited a sensor blind spot in the wake of their impulse trail, then decloaked right on their stern. Their guard was down. You disabled their shields, then swiftly transported on board, not caring that your vessel had been destroyed by their disruptors.” Rekar did not add that his band of Tal Shiar commandos, suddenly without an escape ship, had much incentive to seize the vessel.
“And now,” Vorick continued, “Thanks to your efforts, the Empire has a fully operational Klingon cruiser for study.”
“Yes, it was quite an operation,” Rekar said.
“There’s another reason you will be good for our mission.” This time it was Devant’s turn to praise Rekar. “Any team you’ve commanded has been required to learn how to operate foreign vessels, especially Federation, Klingon, Cardassian, and Vulcan.”
“And we know you yourself are familiar with foreign designs,” Lorema finished. Rekar suddenly noticed the way Lorema was staring at him, as if she was studying his reaction to the recitation of his mission. She must’ve known it was a painful topic for Rekar. He didn’t believe she was looking at Rekar with a sense of attraction—there was something else behind her concentrated gaze, but Rekar couldn’t place it.
“That is correct,” Rekar said. “There was a time when the Tal Shiar taught those things.” It was a swipe at the current state of the organization—an organization forced to cut costs, and effectiveness, following the disastrous raid on the Omarion Nebula. Only after the Dominion War had the Senate given the Tal Shiar the right to use military starships, and recruitment levels had yet to recover from the Omarion debacle. “But why does all this qualify me for this particular mission?”
“It qualifies you because now we don’t have to look elsewhere,” Koval said. “We have you.”
The Commander swallowed. “May I ask again what the mission is?”
Vorick was eager to provide the details. “It will be similar to the Klingon operation, only much more…sensitive.”
“How so?”
“Commander, this is a sensitive time. The Dominion is rampaging through the Alpha Quadrant, and the war is creeping to our borders. Already Romulans have been caught in the crossfire. We have a nonaggression pact with the Dominion, but of course, that could change at any moment. And lest we forget, the Federation looms at the other end of the Neutral Zone, fighting the Dominion and wary of any sort of external assault. Any attack on them might seem like a strike from an ally of the Dominion.”
“So the operation involves the Federation?”
“It does,” Lorema said.
Vorick continued. “During the occupation of the Bajor Sector by the Dominion earlier this year, our ships kept a close eye on the comings and goings of both belligerents, Dominion or Federation. We were especially interested in the Federation evacuation of the Beta Antares shipyards, just a few light years from Bajor. Starfleet moved all of their uncompleted and new vessels to more secure facilities, but not before we were able to get a glimpse of their designs.
“Our reconnaissance revealed the presence of a new type of Federation starship, one previously unseen and newly launched. We checked with our sources on Antares, as well as within the Federation, and learned that a top secret vessel has been undergoing trials at Beta Antares for some time.”
“I see. And what makes this vessel so valuable?”
“It utilizes what is known as a Multi-Vector Assault Mode. It is highly experimental. During combat, the ship will separate into three sections, each operating independently and each with the ability to engage enemy vessels.”
“After the retaking of Deep Space Nine,” Devant added, “The ship returned to the Beta Antares shipyards. There, we observed one test. It was quite interesting.”
“You did this so easily?”
“Rekar, remember that while the ship was highly classified to most of Starfleet, it was not heavily guarded, so as to not draw attention from the rest of the fleet.”
“You must know that there are three factors working in our favor here,” Vorick said. “One, is that the Federation engineers have already commissioned and thoroughly tested the vessel, meaning there will be no impediment to our operation of it. Second, if the Empire were to gain hold of this vessel, it would allow us to have a ship worthy enough to oppose either the Dominion or the Federation, superior even to our warbirds. Additionally, and most importantly, we would be able to duplicate the Multi-Vector technology and use it on our own vessels.”
“Won’t the Federation realize we have stolen the starship?” Rekar asked.
“Surely this would mean war!”
“As I said, the mission is sensitive. The way this operation is planned, your team takes the ship, but without letting the Federation know who took it. The vessel would simply disappear, and by the time they sent out a search party, you will be safely across the Neutral Zone.”
“But won’t Starfleet track it?”
“We have a simple method to combat the threat. Once we reach a secluded system close to the Neutral Zone, the ship will meet with three warbirds and quickly be fitted with a cloaking device. As long as your team prepares the ship beforehand, we can have it installed in minutes. Then, we simply pilot it to Romulus, where the Tal Shiar will make use of it.”
“Does the Senate know of this?” Rekar looked straight at Koval, the man always attempting to move up in the government hierarchy, but he said nothing.
Didius, who had until now remained silent, answered. “Obviously, they approve all operations beneficial to the Empire.”
Which meant they didn’t. Rekar wasn’t one to put the Senate before the organization he swore to defend, but he knew the power they wielded. It was they who had diminished the Tal Shiar’s strength following the Omarion fiasco, it was they who had approved the nonaggression pact with the Dominion, and it was they who had concluded that it was best to wait until the conflict had drawn its course to join a side. He suspected, though, that they would never approve an action that might lead to war with the Federation, at least not at such a sensitive time.
It seemed as though Vorick read his mind. “The Federation, of course, would never retaliate against us. For one, they would never know we stole the vessel, if all goes according to plan. In fact, they would no doubt assume it was the Dominion. They could not risk opening a new front in the war by coming after us, since it would mean drawing resources away from the Dominion fight. And even if they prevailed in this war—high unlikely, by our estimates—they would be going up against their own advanced technology.”
The Committee had laid out a good case for this mission. Rekar did not object to the idea, since maintaining a technological balance with the Federation was always part of Tal Shiar doctrine. Any new technology to the Empire would serve it well, especially in the current, uncertain time. But he still did not believe the mission was feasible, or thoughtfully developed.
“Do you accept, Commander?” asked Koval, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands together. Rekar knew it was wise to answer the Chairman immediately.
“Of course, Chairman.” He looked at the other members of the Committee, especially Vorick, who look unusually pleased with himself. After all, he had undoubtedly impressed Koval with his knowledge of the ship and of Rekar. His eyes turned to Lorema, who ever so slightly turned her head to Koval. The Commander knew little about her, and he would be sure to check into her background.
“Exceptional,” the Chairman replied. “Then you will proceed to Station Val’reth on Folloss Continent tomorrow at 0800, prompt and prepared for departure. Your team will be selected by us before you arrive, but of course you will be in command of them.”
“Thank you, Chairman.” Rekar bowed, and turned to the red door behind him. It yawned open, and he exited the Committee Chamber. Rekar briskly went to the turbolift, but he could sense the Reman eyes on his back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
STARBASE 400, NEAR THE ANTARES SYSTEM: STARDATE 51460.2
Admiral Sorenson sat facing the viewport, stargazing. He was waiting eagerly for the ship to arrive, and he had scheduled his own lunch break so he could be available during the appointed time. His office communicator buzzed.
“Yes, Groya?”
“Sir, the Prometheus has arrived. They’re requesting permission to dock.”
“Of course. I’ll be right out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sorenson composed himself and looked out the viewport. The quad-nacelled, dagger shape of the Prometheus came into view. An excited grin appeared on his aged face. The ship he had spent two decades designing had finally returned to meet its maker, and Sorenson wanted to reciprocate and meet its current owner.
-----------
Captain Ali Faris opened his eyes once the transporter beam had completely dissipated. He was queasy enough whenever he beamed somewhere, but the fact that Chief Soka had told him the Prometheus was having problems with the pattern buffers made the trip even worse. The transporters were state of the art, yet like all new technologies, they had a few glitches to work out.
Accompanying Faris were Lt. Commander Arlin Chigot, the ship’s stately Andorian first officer, and Lt. Lloyd Neave, one of the few helmsmen trained to fully operate the Prometheus. The three stepped down from the transporter pad to meet Sorenson’s Bolian assistant, Groya.
“Welcome to Starbase 400,” Groya said. “We’re pleased you could make it.”
“Of course,” Faris replied. “We wouldn’t deprive the Admiral of a chance to view his, uh…brainchild.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Please come with me, you can wait in the lounge until Admiral Sorenson arrives. It will only be a moment.”
Groya led them through the halls of the space station, a massive complex located a few light years from Beta Antares itself. After a few winding corridors, they exited into the lounge of Starbase 400. The lounge was actually more of an atrium, with a bar and a row of replicators on the lower level and balconies on the walls above them. In the middle of the lounge was a holographic Federation crest and the words STARBASE 400; crowding around it were beings of all kinds, whether they were Starfleet crew members, haggling trades, or visiting dignitaries. Groya led the three guests to a table and instructed them to wait.
“The admiral will be down shortly. Feel free to have something to eat.”
“Thank you,” Faris replied, and the three sat. After Groya left, he looked with amusement at Chigot.
“Some operation they got going here,” he said. “So polite. A much better reception than Starbase 92. It seemed like they couldn’t wait to get us to leave.”
“Maybe it’s where they’re located,” Chigot wondered. “Maybe the further you get from Earth and the more you get into the…how do you humans say it?...boonies, the friendlier you become.”
“Friendly, maybe,” Faris said, “But a whole lot of them end up going crazy out here.”
“I think that’s Sorenson,” Neave said, pointing.
Their heads turned. Admiral David Sorenson, very close to retirement age and with a hairline to prove it, was heading right for them, beaming. All three of them stood, and Faris caught the Admiral’s extended hand.
“Captain Faris, I’m honored to meet you.”
“Likewise, Admiral. This is my first officer, Commander Chigot, and my Operational Helmsman, Lt. Neave.”
“Ah, Operational Helsman! I know that title!” Sorenson squeezed Neave’s hand. “Tell me, have you tried out the Multi-Vector—”
“Admiral,” Faris interrupted, “We’re in a public place.”
“Ah yes. Well, then, let’s go to my office. The walls don’t have ears there.”
