Last post by RyeTanker - [Ensign XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Ens. Zark) | Federation Embassy Compound | Cardassia Prime] Attn: @Ellen Fitz
If Zark were human, she'd have turned beet, which would have been more humiliating and made her even more red. Being blue skinned, she seemed to turn more towards coal. This made it hard as she tried to hide her embarrassment while crossing her legs. Her wife acted absolutely obliviously as she explained several of the games to Enyd who also looked like she was having a hard time simply ignoring the fact that there was a naked person in front of her. "The main thing with the card games like Texas Hold 'em and Baccarat is you cant show any emotion since it will give your opponents a good idea of the value of your cards. That can get them to quit the round too early and preserving their chips, or if they sense blood in the water, force you into betting too aggressively for the strength of your hand."
The Shen stopped for a moment while tapping on Zark's stomach like she were a desk. Since it was sumptuous flesh instead of something more solid, she soon began drawing circles on the presented abdomen as well which set Zark to subtly squirming again. The cop continued giving pointers while absent mindedly teasing her wife, who was doing her best to hold in giggles or gasps of delight. The movement stopped though when the subject of dom jot came up. "Where there's dom jot, there's Nausicans. The thing with those brutes is they love the game, and here's a secret about how they play... The Shen leaned in before pausing for a slight moment. "But they're terrible at it." Ryzit leaned back as she finished. "There's a long history of violence and even blood shed with the Nausaicaans and that game." The unrepentent Shen looked down at the still naked Zhen with a smile. "Didn't you have a story about that once?" Zark huffed with caused her chest to rise and fall as she injected forced calm into her voice. "I heard about it from someone else. She got a fractured rib and a broken leg when while trying to get out of a brawl. The Nausicaans got out played by some Vulcans, but when they tried to start the fight, the punch hit a Klingon instead and everything just fell apart from there. Serena was trying to get out of the bar but was at the opposite end from the door and a Klingon fell on her." Zark shook her head at the memory. "Or maybe the Klingon was thrown and landed on her. Doesn't really matter how the Klingon hit her since all she remembers doing is screaming then waking up in a hospital."
Ryzit snorted at some something else. "The story aside, that's not the point here. The main issue is how we get in and find the gold. I was thinking that you...." and elegant blue finger pointed at Enyd. "Could play the role of a social dillentente with more money than sense. I was hoping you'd have more car sharking skills, but even if you don't, that's fine. The main goal is to generate excitement. My lovely wife is going to do what she does best and act as your body guard, which she's already doing anyway. I'll be a long suffering assistant who's going to act as your fetcher. That'll give me plenty of chances to scope the place out and unobtrusively observe what's going on." The cop let that sink in. "If we can get some intel on where the gold is being kept, and we can confirm its existence, we'll try to extract it without causing too much of a fuss." Another pause. "Any questions before I go into the fine technical details?"
Last post by Dumedion - [Ens. Talia “Shadow” Al-Ibrahim | Cockpit | Wolf-4 | Space, near Conclave Convoy] Attn: @Havenborn@rae@joshs1000 [Show/Hide]
The situation had gone from bad to worse faster than Talia had thought possible: Javert was a dead stick. The primary bandit – Sparky – appeared to be trying to bore its way into the hull of the leviathan-sized Ark ship. Now the entire engagement sphere was swarming with the bastard’s smaller kindred, hell bent on killing the Wolves kamikaze style. It was all she could do to keep up with Janus – who was flying like a pissed off teenager – while she evaded, fired, and worked to restore her coms system.
“Initialize. Secondary. Power. Circuits,” Shadow grunted through a tight turn, unable to take her hands off the controls. There were too many drones to count, coming in at too many angles, which forced her into a constant stream of evasive maneuvers. “Report. Status.”
Shadow hissed a stream of eloquent curses in Arabic at that. “Auxiliary transmitter status!”
“Warning, proximity -” Anahi blared, as every console and HUD around Shadow flashed bright yellow.
For the majority of her career, Talia had trained extensively to react and respond to nearly every conceivable in flight emergency. Standard procedures were rehearsed over and over to the point of muscle memory, even though a checklist existed for everything. There was a standard to meet with every trainee through TacCon, just like at the Academy, but given her natural inclinations for competition and perfection, Talia had made something of a name for herself with the Viper’s on the Diamondback; she’d logged more sim-hours in her first year with the squadron than actual flight time by a factor of four. Practice makes perfect was her mindset – simultaneously seeking to outdo everyone’s scores while obsessing over every minuscule error. That rigid, inflexible methodology had indeed earned her some impressive sim scores.
This, however, was real, and reality had decided right at that moment to drop out of warp right on top of her.
Shadow hauled the stick back into her sternum hard enough to make her eyesight gray out, hoping she was fast enough to climb clear. Beyond the confines of her cockpit – which blurred with the boxy, old hull of whatever class of ship had decided to try to kill her – it might have appeared as if Shadow had intentionally buzzed the vessel. The nimble Valkyrie shot up vertical along its blunt nose, close enough haze it’s deflector screens in a film of white static, then rolled and banked hard across its dorsal hull out across it’s starboard pylon and engine housing with a flare of protesting engine wash.
“Fuck sakes,” Talia screamed at them as she passed between pants of breath, “learn how to break you fucking -”
“Auxiliary transmitter initiated,” Anahi announced pleasantly, as a chorus of coms traffic erupted in Talia’s helm after a burst of static, as her damaged systems struggled to stabilize the signals. She caught the tail end of the newcomer’s voice, but the rest was drowned out as her ventral shields flared to life under the impact of another suicide drone detonation while the newcomer’s engaged Sparky. Janus’ voice cut through in clipped tones that suggested he was under fire as well. Torpedoes. Sure, why not, Talia huffed, and rolled out from the bow of the Ark ship into a wide bank that brought Janus’ ship back into view: he was arcing between too swarms of mini-Sparky’s, drawing them both into one pursuit tendril, trailing plasma from a damaged thruster assembly, while Salvo made his run to the aid of what remained of the Fred far off out of visual range.
“Copy, Janus – hold course I’ll hit them in your wake,” Talia acknowledged as the fingers on her left hand keyed in the detonation sequence into the tactical console. Two quantums should make a dent, she guessed, as they closed head-on, targets locked deep into the mass of mini-drones three seconds apart; but if she fired now, they’d have enough time to evade. “Don’t worry I did this in a sim once. H-hard to port, on me,” Shadow stammered, too full of adrenaline to know how scared shitless she sounded. “Three, two, one, now!”
She launched her torps at ninety meters from Janus. Less than a second, at speed, for the missiles to streak by either side of his bird – followed by the electro-static discharge of both Valkryie’s shields buzzing off each other less than a second later – as their bellies nearly kissed in the void. Janus went one way, Talia the other, as the torps cooked off beyond. Shadow craned her neck around against the g’s, eyes narrowed against the light of the detonations.
“Holy shit that was crazy,” she breathed, “remind me not to do that again.”
At least it worked, though. The few mini-Sparky’s that remained seemed to be running to the aid of their big brother. Talia banked around to follow, blinking sweat from her eyes. The Ark ship rolled into view, blocking her view of the battle being waged on the far side of her approach angle. Everything they’d thrown at Sparky so far hadn’t made much of a dent – but perhaps Janus had another plan that might work, or whoever the new guys were for that matter. She arched an eyebrow over at the Wolf Leader as he drew up along her wing.
“That was educational – what’s next,” she breathed out, on open broadcast, while her and Janus opened up on the few remaining suicide drones.
If she had any question as to whether her attempted deception had worked on the General, the presence of the pair of armed guards waiting for her outside of his office did little to assuage her concerns. The Colonel had agreed to the proposal she had offered, but as he escorted her out of his office, Hathev had noticed more of his hand motions and, in the face of mounting evidence, concluded she was being played.
That, she concluded, was acceptable to her. So long as she was aware of the true dynamic at play and remained vigilant in her situational awareness, she concluded she possessed the upper hand. Unexpectedly, the guards did not lay hands on her and were willing to walk in front of her, likely to further the illusion that she was in charge. There were no signs or indicators to suggest where they were going but as the aesthetic grew darker and drearier, the Vulcan knew they were in a prison and interrogation wing of the Citadel. It seemed increasingly likely, and logical, to conclude that she was being taken to the High Inquisitor the General had earlier referenced.
If she needed any further confirmation, Hathev got it when the doors parted, and they stepped into the interrogation room. Three cells lined either side of the wide room all empty save one that held Johnston. Ahead of her, the cells stopped, allowing the main area of the room to form a T-like layout where two people chained to the floor and ceiling, wearing nothing but short smocks had been shackled facing each other. Hathev recognized them immediately as Lillee and Hirek. Both looked as though they had been tortured beyond being chained and stripped, though Hirek looked worse.
Making a conscious choice, Hathev relaxed her emotional suppression allowing the rising anger in. It would fuel her for what was to come.
"Ah, Major Nalah", The voice came from around the corner as a Romulan, a long smock covering his own uniform, stepped around the corner. Unlike the smocks worn by the prisoners this one had pouches and pockets each with various tools and implements sticking out, waiting to be used.
The High Inquisitor.
"I've been expecting you. Welcome." He motioned to the guards still standing in front of her. his actions a choreographed tell of what was to come next. "Take her."
Before the inquisitor finished the instruction, Hatter was already in motion as she took a deliberately large step back. This forced the guards to reach further for her than anticipated, causing them to turn and their centers to shift. The Vulcan reached forward, grabbing each outstretched arm at the respect-re elbows, and shoved, her anger in fused Vulcan strength sharing the two into each other, knocking them both off balance.
The guard on her right recovered quicker and lunged for her as Hathev drove the heel of her hand up into the Romulan's, noise, breaking it with a blood-splattered crunch. He staggered back, allowing Hathev to turn her attention to the other guard. He swung a wildly predictable backhand at her, striking her across the face. He wound up for another attack. She recovered but was too slow to stop her hand from clamping down at the base of his neck as her nerve pinch put him into submission.
Pain seared into her right shoulder as the disruptor blast struck her. She cried out in pain as she dropped to a 'time and grabbed the guard’s weapon with her left hand. The inquisitor fired again but struck the guard who had effectively become her cover. She natured fire, scoring a hit center mass, dropping the Inquisitor. To her right, the Romulan with the broken nose had regained himself enough to rejoin the struggle, but a blast from Hathev’s weapon put him down, ending the fight.
The Vulcan did not permit herself the time to calm herself. Lives were on the line, and delay on her part only added to then considerable danger. Checking the Disruptor, she noted the weapon had been set to stun. It was not like the Romulans to stun the i- targets, but if they had orders to interrogate her, they would need her alive. That served her needs just fine. She disarmed the other guard and reset his weapon to kill.
Johnston stood in one of the holding cells. He hadn't been touched yet. She fired on the control panel, releasing him.
"Find clothes for them," she ordered. before turning her attention to Lillee and Hirek. "I'll get you two down as soon as possible."
The Vulcan crossed to the control station, but she found the console locked out. Logical.
She did not hesitate as she made for the unconscious Inquisitor and disarmed him. She then set the tips of her fingers on the side of the face and mind melded. It was well known that most Romulans were resistant to the technique, but unconscious Romulans could not exercise that training, and the unconscious inquisitor gave up the access codes with ease.
As the first order of business, Hathev logged in using the Inquisitor’s credentials and keyed the sequence to lower and release Lillee and Hirek. Johnston had returned empty-handed from his search for clothes, so as Hathev helped Lillee into the privacy of one of the six holding cells where she could at least sit and calm herself, Johnston did the same with Hirek. Of course, they left the cell force fields down so her companions could move about as they wished. She left one of the Disruptors with Lillee as she seemed to need some sense of safety and protection
"Strip them," Hathev said, motioning to the unconscious guards and the inquisitor. Between the two of them, Hatter concluded they could piece together two outfits that could be made to work.
While Johnston went to work on the wardrobe, Hatter turned her attention back to the console. Keying through it, she found a prisoner manifest. From what she could tell, a prisoner transporter system had been installed, and the Inquisitor could beam prisoners from the main cell block to the interrogation chambers. She had to give the Romulans credit for their efficiency. This method would cut down on the possibility of prisoners escaping. But it also had the added benefit of making things damn convenient. Digging into the prison records, Hathev discovered that Pierce and Kerina were in holding. That left Nysari and Kino unaccounted for once she considered the crew still aboard Allegiant.
The automated transporter controls were easy enough to use, requiring only a single button push to initiate transport. In short order, Pierce and Kerina materialized in the middle of the room.
"Welcome." she said to her colleagues as she tossed the second disruptor to Pierce, keeping the third for herself.
Kino’s fingers were a blur across the console, eyes narrowed in focus; the Reman, Tiramex, stood nearby, ever alert for movement. He was growling impatiently, which the Trill tried to ignore. On the screens before her, Jeen was attempting the impossible – even with the memories and expertise of previous hosts at her disposal, she couldn’t read Romulan, so she had to keep asking him to translate every few seconds – which only fueled the Reman’s irritation.
“This is taking too long, Reen,” he growled.
“It's Jeen, and I’m going as fast as I can,” Kino snapped back. “They keep locking me out every time I manage to breach a sub-routine. I can’t access main power distribution, but I got environmental and surveillance,” she added quickly, watching keenly as a multitude of camera feeds dominated the screen to her left. “I can’t unlock ultra-max, but I can trigger a decontamination alarm that will override the security systems for a few minutes until they lock it down. Will that be enough time?”
The Reman grunted. “If my people are prepared to act, yes.”
“Well, we make an announcement then,” Kino nodded and slotted the guard's access disk into the terminal, then quickly called up the PA system. A device slid up out of the console desk, seemingly a microphone. “Since one of us sounds normal and the other like a hungry lizard, what do you want me to say?”
Tiramex narrowed his eyes at her temerity but rasped a few words in his native tongue. Kino repeated it, which earned her another drawn-out growl from his chest. “Your accent is –“
“Look, we’re on the clock here,” Kino reminded him and repeated the phrase again.
“Good enough,” Tiramex nodded wearily.
“What does it mean?”
“In your tongue? It translates poorly: children of the dark, rise.”
Kino shrugged, then nodded, and keyed the mic, her eyes glued to the screen. A few seconds later, she triggered a full system decon alarm through the entire ultra-max wing: complete with pulsing blue alarms, emergency ventilation and a shit load of doors opening. Guards instantly scrambled through the halls, followed soon after by prisoners of all kinds. A mass melee ensued.
“That’ll keep them busy for awhile,” Kino sighed and resumed her search for the Allegiant crew. The Reman came to her side, gesturing with a claw to the scene.
“You have given my people a chance. I will not forget it – nor will they. I must leave you now to aid them further,” he nodded to her as they met face to face. “If we survive to meet again, Kino Jeen,” he emphasized, “know that you have earned an ally of the Reman Underground. Farewell.” He turned to leave then, leaving the Trill with a confused look on her face.
“Okay, cool – I’ll just…find my people on my own then, I guess,” Jeen called out to his back, but the Reman never even slowed down.
“You are stronger than you look, Jeen. Hunt well.” [A few moments later…]
She moved in a low crouch down the corridor, stolen disruptor pistol up and panning, held over a wrist, a blood-stained dagger clenched in a reverse grip in her fist. The complex was a maze of stone walls, but if her memory served (thanks to the map she’d tried to memorize along with the camera feed placements), Kino hoped to run into her quarry in at the next intersection – so long as they hadn’t changed direction.
The non-com paused and knelt about a foot from the corner and waited. Footsteps echoed, with hushed voices; unintelligible, but unmistakably two – male and female. Easy, Kino breathed, slow is smooth, smooth is fast. She checked the power level on her disruptor . Primed. The blade she held low, close to her chest. Once the first set of legs passed, Kino moved in a blur; a leg lashed out in a sweep, which sent the male tumbling. A shoulder checked into the female to knock her back into the wall, out of harms way – as the Trill leveled the pistol and fired. The bastard popped the shot up and off with the heel of his foot, then scrambled up to grapple as Kino closed. A knee slammed into her thigh. An elbow collided into his head. They spun each other around, grunting; Kino’s back cracked into the wall, then they both tripped and rolled over the person she was trying to save.
The melee ended when Kino scrambled into a mounted position, the blade of her dagger held at the male’s throat – pressed tight just under his adam’s apple, hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“Give me a reason, fuckhead,” Kino hissed in his face, all teeth and dead seriousness, but held off from slicing his throat open. “Nysari,” she called instead without taking her eyes off his, “you okay – talk to me.”
The Romulan had the audacity to smirk up at her. “Your spots are showing,” he whispered with more than a hint of amusement, “is it true they go…all the way down?”
Kino narrowed her eyes in a frown as she sat up on top of him, then placed the business end of her disruptor into his grinning mouth; to the man’s credit, that seemed enough to wipe the smug amusement away rather quickly. The Trill listened as the Andorian-in-disguise filled her in, with a moderate degree of complaints for having been shoved into a wall, followed by a brief chastisement of Kino’s use of unnecessary force. With her pistol still lodged in the smuggler’s mouth – Jeen shrugged as her eyes snapped up and across the hall for threats.
“This guy could be anyone, LT,” Kino sighed but shook her head and stood, keeping her weapon trained on him. “Fuck around and find out,” she warned him as she backed off to stand beside the diplomat. “We gotta move back to Interrogation. The others have rallied there,” Jeen whispered. “I think the counselor has a plan and help. There’s a lift back that way,” she nodded the way the pair had come.
Further conversation was interrupted by a series of ominous rumbles, followed by a rather jarring quake in the entire structure, and every alarm in the facility blared to life.
“Ah, that would be the Remans, I bet,” Kino winced at the LT. “We should hurry before they tear this place a new asshole.” [A few moments later…]
The lift was locked out (or damaged, given the burn marks that pock-marked the doors), but Kino still had her access disk. She slotted it in without hesitation and keyed in the code Tiramex had helped her decipher, but nothing happened – the door didn’t even budge. With a frown, the non-com tried again, with the same results. Only as the screen next to the console lit up did she feel the familiar weight of the disk still in her pocket, however. Her frown turned into a confused grunt as she pulled the device out, wondering where she got two of them.
“I believe that is mine,” the smuggler quipped over her shoulder and attempted to swipe it, but Kino pulled it away.
“No touching, fuckhead,” she sneered, then slotted it in.
The door remained closed, but then audio crackled to life, drowned out by all the sirens but still clearly heard. Deep moans, almost comically over-acted, behind a steady rhythm of flesh impacting flesh at a furious pace. Kino flinched at the sounds, then did a double take at the imagery on the screen – which was probably being broadcast throughout the entire Citadel: an Andorian, mounted atop a Vulcan, while another stood behind, each of the males pounding away at the lithe blue body grinding down on them both. Various names, obscenely biological, lit up and faded around the trio; apparently, this was only the opening scene.
“What. The. Fuck,” Kino snarled and spun to jab her disruptor right into the smuggler’s left eye. “The fuck is this shit!”
Any answer was delayed, however, as the trio dematerialized in a wash of glittering light to find themselves transported directly before Cmdr. Hathev and company. Kino grimaced and shoved the Romulan back before lowering her weapon. The porno was still playing in the background of muffled explosions and endless sirens as she looked over the group with a sigh.
Pierce sat with Kerina, trying to keep the other woman calm despite the tense situation. The touch of their hands brought a sense of peace to Pierce. The mock communicator, now placed where her badge should be, chirped lightly. She heard the familiar hum of a Romulan transporter materializing around them when, suddenly, she and Ashley began to disappear, only to rematerialize in a medium-sized room with Hatheev at the controls. As she turned her head, she saw Johnston assisting Hirek and Lillee before she stood up, barely catching a disruptor. Letting out a breath of relief, she began to stand.
Hatheev's very Vulcan and familiar welcome brought a smile to Pierce's face. She brushed her crimson hair aside and positioned the pistol at the ready. Kerina, still shaken but regaining composure, found a pipe lying nearby and armed herself, standing slightly beside Pierce.
"Thanks, Hatheev. Glad someone found us so quickly. Seems like things went somewhat better for you though." Pierce noticed the Vulcan woman had been hit by a disruptor blast. She gave Hatheev a concerned look but knew that Vulcans could suppress pain for a time. Pierce moved to cover the door.
"Report!" She yelled back at Hatheev. "How many of us are captured? What's the mission status that you're aware of?" Her mind was back to wandering all over the mission parameters now as she stood ready to pounce. She too being in pain from the recent beatings was sore as hell and honestly was ready to get back to the ship and soak, but time for that later. Now they'd been unleashed into the darkest pits of hell and needed a way out.
Glancing down the hall from the interior, she looked back into the room. "How ready are we to bolt down the corridor? That is, unless we can get a handy transport out of here." She winked as the sarcasm struck before awaiting an answer.
Ashley looked around at these Starfleet pros unknowing what she'd stumbled upon. What went from a routine research mission for her on shoreleave quickly devolved into a nightmare. Time for research later though, now she had to help where she could. "Is there anything I can help with? I'm on shoreleave, but Starfleet. Lieutenant Junior Grade Ashley Kerina sirs. Sciences and Cybernetics." She announced for any way to be useful in this situation.
Pierce heard some movement down the corridors as she stood ready. “Fuck it, let’s get our crew and move. Get as much intel as possible. We may have to fight our way out!”
Last post by Havenborn - [ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”]Attn: @Dumedion@rae
Daniel listened as the strange, mechanized squid-being spoke about chronometric readings and temporal displacements and while he understood a little of that, having taken a basic course on temporal mechanics, he still wasn’t really sure what to make of it. He cared more about how to kill it and less about where it came from. When the ark began to dislodge smaller objects that looked like drones of some kind, similar in design to the larger squid-like drone that was attacking the ark. He watched as the drones suddenly turned their weapons on their own and on them. As he began to maneuver his fighter around to attack some of the smaller drones a quartet of missiles detonated nearby which managed to destroy a couple of the smaller drones but the drones didn’t look like they were the intended target, it looked to Daniel as more of a distracting attack, trying to get the squid-like drone off the Conclave vessel.
Knight alerted him to another quartet of missiles being fired from a vessel roughly the size of a Miranda-class. “The ship is called the Xebrek, it’s friendly for the moment.” Knight stated as a pair of Drones took shots at them, Daniel nodded, knowing full well that Knight couldn’t see him nod and turned his attention to the drones attacking them, he armed a photon torpedo and launched it at the pair of drones which had quickly turned into a trio as a third one had joined them. That was fine by Daniel, as the drones easily dodged the larger photon torpedo as Daniel assumed they would he triggered the torpedo’s detonator and in a second took out all three drones. Three more down. He thought to himself. He was carrying a standard loadout, four, well three now, photon torpedoes and a pair of twin mass-drivers along with the standard complement of micro-torpedoes and phasers. He had expected that if he got into combat it’d have been with attack craft or small warbirds not tiny drones.
He was vaguely aware of where the shuttlecraft was during all of this, keeping its location in mind and when the shuttlecraft started to get closer to the combat zone he was a concerned, especially with all the drones around. From what he understood the Mohs was there for support not for combat, he really hoped that the pilot wasn’t someone from TacCONN trying to show off or something. Suddenly there was a flash outside his view and only thanks to his helmet’s HUD was he made aware of it, the shuttle had been struck by several of the drones self-destruct devices. He then heard the orders come from Janus. [color= lightsteelblue]Salvo, Janus. Protect the shuttle.[/color]
Daniel nodded and communicated back. “Understood sir.” He said as he whipped his fighter around hearing a slight strain as he tried to coax more power out of his engines than he probably should have. The Mohs was taking pot shots as best it could to try and take out some of the drones. “Mohs, this is Salvo, I’m inbound.” He said.
Ava recovered from her brace and as she looked over at Talera she realized that the woman was dead and for the moment there was nothing that she could do to help her. She regained her senses and as she was trying to maneuver away from the drones and the battlefield she saw an unmistakable fighter moving towards the shuttle, she also heard Janus’s orders and then heard the unmistakable sound of her husband’s voice giving her orders. [color= fc2323]“Acknowledged Salvo.”[/color] She responded to him but soon she realized that the shuttle wasn’t moving very fast. As she looked over the systems she found that the shuttle was heavily damaged. A majority of the critical systems were heavily damaged, warp and impulse drives were both out but she still had RCS thrusters, life support was still working but not much else, she looked around the cabin and saw the other two passengers.
She got up and went over to them, checking their pulses quickly, both still alive but unconscious. She returned to the pilot’s seat and opened up a communication line to her husband’s fighter, checking the shuttle’s shield strength as she did, less than a quarter strength left, that wasn’t good she thought to herself.. [color= fc2323]“Salvo, I’ve lost warp and impulse but I’ve got RCS. I have two wounded and one KIA, life support is functional and shields are less than a quarter strength.”[/color] She stated in a quick report to him.
Daniel was a little surprised to hear his wife’s voice respond over the communications channel. His first thought was to ask her why she was piloting the shuttle but his training kept him on the task at hand. Knight informed him of the remaining drones nearby and he turned his attention back to them. He primed his pulse phasers and shot off a burst between the shuttle and the remaining drones which promptly got their attention focused on him rather than the damaged shuttle which Knight was now informing him about. He prepared to fire another torpedo but realized that the shuttle, which was heavily damaged wouldn’t be able to take that kind of blast. Suddenly he heard his wife again, she gave him a status report that confirmed what Knight had just told him. “Understood Mohs, sit tight while I deal with the drones.” He replied.
He activated his mass drivers and set them on auto-fire as he input the drones as the targets. He maneuvered his fighter around and the shuttlecraft in a pass as he heard the mass drivers cycle and begin their firing sequence, another drone down, only three more remaining as he swung around the starboard side of the shuttlecraft, feeling the vibration from the mass drivers this time instead of hearing them he watched as this drone managed to dodge all of the rounds and thinking quickly he lined up another shot but this time fired a burst of phaser pulses one way as the drone attempted to dodge again but got caught in the phaser salvo, the other one however managed to fire off some shots that hit the fighter. “Shields down to eighty-eight percent.” He heard knight say from behind him. He flipped his fighter around pulling off an Immelman turn and watched as the third drone fell into his trap and his mass drivers auto-tracked and fired on it destroying it. With the threat eliminated to the shuttle he assessed the damage. “Mohs, Salvo. Prepare for tractor tow.” He said as he activated his tractor beam and began to pull the shuttlecraft away from the battle so they could make repairs.
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OOC: I think I got everything, sorry for the long wait.
Lauren smiled and moved to the navigation console to plot the course. "Straight ahead it is," she affirmed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach at the honor of piloting THE Enterprise. She glanced over at Joe, appreciating his attempt to decipher the controls too, and smiled warmly.
"Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I've got faith in you. And no, none of those buttons are helm controls. They're for various systems, but the helm... well, it's manual. Which is my favorite."
Her movements were confident and deliberate as she touched the board. "It's been a while since I've flown one of these, but it should be just like riding a bike," she added with a wink. She began working on releasing the ship's moorings, her fingers moving swiftly over the controls.
As Lauren worked, she finally registered his comment about the provisions. "No need to worry about stocking holographic provisions. We're not going far enough for that to be an issue." She chuckled slightly at the thought. After all, it was only a short command to get out and head to the mess hall.
Finally, she completed the preparations and turned back to her companion. "All set. Ready for a little trip down memory lane?" She gave him an encouraging nod, her eyes filled with a hint of excitement.
While not quite spectacular enough to have androids sing about it, the wee cael pulex was nonetheless poised in the perfect spot to witness the upcoming battle. It hadn’t intended on being in such a position; in faction, the cael pulex has such a small brain it is debated whether it has the capacity to intend anything beyond the necessary functions to exist (that of eating, defecating, and reproduction). However poised it was, and poised it would remain. Unless, of course, it managed to find its way into the path of weapons fire traded between the Romulans, Klingons, and Federation ships (not that it could recognize these races or even grasp the danger it was in by remaining in this area of space).
Thus, while Admiral Vrotait, aboard a D'deridex class Romulan vessel, communicated battle plans with General Nacur on one of the Valdore class ships, and Commander Toldar on a D-7 class ship, the cael pulex drifted into a bit of “space dust” and began munching away at some delectables found within the collection. Chewing on its dinner, the cael pulex couldn’t be bothered by the quick action of Major Lelan as she led the first squadron of Romulan Stalker fighters against their enemies. Neither could it be bothered when Sublieutenant Havat challenged Sublieutenant Dahee to see who could kill the most Klingons in the onslaught.
The minuscule cael pulax, so small that only specialists with special instruments could even detect it, continued to care not a whit for the comings and goings of the big creatures and their vessels when General Eklom, onboard a Vor’cha class Klingon vessel, issued commands to Brigadier Ujal on a Negh’Var class ship, who then relayed the commands to Captains Nevi and Gokless, commanding K’t’inga and D-5 class ships respectively. The only time the cael pulax “flinched” in all this was when Commander Bulak, on board a Raptor class, moved his ship close to the cluster of space dust the cael pulax presently called its dining room, positioning the Klingon ship in such a way that Lieutenants Eklish, Otaq, and Pungol, flying Phantom Raiders, could respond directly against the Romulan Stalker fighters.
Thankfully, it was not enough of a disturbance to the cael pulax that it felt the need to move on to another bit of space dust. It remained content, albeit on the front lines of mayhem, unaware of how this battle was the result of an Infested Romulan Praetor sending her forces after her political rival and her rival’s (potentially temporary) allies. Hadn’t been able to comprehend the initial communications of threats and bluffs between the Praetor’s forces and her rivals when they’d finally come together, and neither had it understood the ramifications of the Federation vessel inserting itself between these two groups or noted how the third group (Klingons) attempted to flank both groups of Romulans. When first strikes occurred, from cloaked ships among both sets of Romulans and Klingons, the cael pulax again hadn’t noticed or cared.
While the vacuum of space around it began to fill with the debris of broken vessels and maimed bodies of those unlucky enough to be aboard the broken vessels, the cael pulax enjoyed its dinner and relished its tiny existence.
GM Notes: This will be the main thread for the intro to the battle beginning, and everyone on the Erudite, Ranger, and Helmet should post at least one time to establish where they're going/doing in the subsequent battle. Understand, there are more ships (of various classes) than those named here, so in the main two objectives (take out Romulan fighters, take out Tal'aura's forces), have fun with what/who you want to name from among the enemy/ally forces.
We encourage you to do other smaller threads of your choice/interest and so encourage you to recruit writers to fit with the objective you wish to address (threads move more quickly with groups of 3-6). These objectives can/should take place in separate threads as Supplementals. More than one supplemental can address an objective if the writers are focusing on the objective from a different perspective.
UNDERSTAND YOU'LL NEED TO CHECK IN ON ALL THE SUPPLEMENTALS TO MAKE SURE YOU AREN'T DOUBLE DIPPING ON SOME ACTION OR SCREWING WITH DECISIONS MADE IN OTHER THREADS.
There should be the occasional post from a member of these supplementals back in this main battle thread to recap/update major decisions and such in-character ((as in they're reporting to Stark/Cross what they're doing and accomplishing)) as this will help us keep on the same page and track major battle moments without having to note all the details in one place. After the GM notes the return of the Apache and Allegiant in this main thread, the writers in these chapters should likewise make a post of where their characters are and what they're doing before going off to do supplemental threads.
Once the supplemental threads are brought to a close, the battle will be officially finished in this main thread, and all writers are then encouraged to write a final response to the battle ending before the GM FINs this thread.
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Pirate vessel qu'DuHSum | BIQ'a'bIng Ocean | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz
Hathev did not offer Cross a direct response to his tirade about Vulcan emotions, Vulcan superiority, or even his apology for said tirade. A part of her desired to respond in kind, but she knew that while such an emotional outburst might, in fact, prove her point, it might also ruin whatever they could salvage from this leave. Besides, she realized the fallacy in attempting to debate the topic with him as it became more and more obvious to her that Cross knew very little of Ancient Vulcan history.
“You may be correct, Cross,” she conceded, as she sat down next to him the black unitard pulling and stretching around her curves, the metal plates tinking against each other ever so slightly. “Your assertion that Vulcans are afraid of their emotions may very well be true.”
She paused as she debated whether or not to continue. This discussion was not unlike the many she had had with Triss back on Earth and she, not for the first time, wondered if it had been this gulf that had doomed their marriage. Discretion suggested she should let the matter drop for now, but even so, she felt compelled to continue.
“The evidence you alluded to lays within our ancient texts. They describe Ancient Vulcans as a people who acted on their most violent impulses without regard to any other consideration. A near endless cycle of war ravaged and devastated the home world and nearly annihilated the Vulcan people. As a species, we only survived by embracing logic and learning how to control and, yes, suppress the emotions we feel every moment of every day so as to gain a control over ourselves.”
She paused, briefly as she focused on her own self control. The Vulcan did not want to come across angry, or patronizing.
“But within each Vulcan lays an unacknowledged, unspoken fear, that our ability to keep our emotions in check will fail. In my own personal case, as I have come to believe that my own ability to control my emotions has become permanently damage, I experienced that sense of unbridled, uncontrolled rage on deck when I defended us against that Klingon. Maybe it was justified. Maybe any reasonable person would respond the same way. But in that moment, I, willingly or otherwise, gave in to those violent impulses.”
Hathev took another breath as memories of similar conversations between her and Triss returned to the surface. Ironic that now Hathev found the roles reversed Instead of Triss needing support and Hathev providing only logical analysis of the problem, now it was Hathev in need with Cross unable to see her perspective. She could only hope that the discussions she was having now turned out more favorably than the discussions she had had back then. If they didn’t she might find herself alone once again; a prospect she did not find agreeable.
“I am relieved that my actions yielded a positive outcome to our struggle. However, at the same time, the experience has left me unsettled and yes, afraid, of what might happen if I should give in like that again and be unable to re-assert my self control.”
She shifted her position again, sliding closer to him and settling in as if she were trying to be a ‘small spoon’ to him., a physical prompt to go along with what she was about to tell him.
“I recognize that you may not fully understand or agree with my perspective. But at the same time, I hope you can acknowledge what I am feeling, and find some way to provide comfort and reassurance.”
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[Lt. Cmdr. Hathev| Crew Berths | Deck 1 | USS Allegiant | Aerodrome of the Erudite ] Attn: @Pierce @Griff
For some reason, Hathev felt a sense of pride when she caught Alana's eye. That, of course, had not been the intention but the decades of experience taught the Vulcan about unintended cossequences. Prior to her emotional awakening she would not have permitted this display, but since then and especially since her retreat on Qu'Nos with Cross, she was starting to learn to "roll with it." So, as the discussion continued between the three of them, Hathev pulled up the replicator data files on Romulan wardrobe.
Much to her surprise, Hathev found a rather extensive database, a development she credited to Lillee as she began scanning through her options. During the Dominion War, Hathev had crossed paths with a few Romulan soldiers during then off duty hours and her idetic memory instantly recalled what the women had been wearing. She took that as the basis and began filtering down her search.
After a few minutes, she had designed herself an olive green full body unitard. Although the upper body of the garment was form fitting, the lower half loosened up and flared out a bit making the garment a bit more practical appearance that she could wear it in public without every fold in her crotch present for all to see. She edited the collar to come to the base of her neck, added a maroon pleather cargo vest and an appropriate pair of walking boots before calling Lillee over for her opinion on the selection.
Enyd had been looking forward to this conversation with about as much enthusiasm as an injured person looks forward to having their bone reset. But she’d drawn the proverbial “short straw” from the stack for who would talk to who about dealing with the Romulan leads connected to the murderous interruption to their dinner.
Brigadier Natauna was already deployed with a makeshift team to investigate among the Klingons, taking with her Ensign L’Nari and Crewman Lourdes from the Diplomatic Department, Ensign Lewis and Bennett from the Intelligence department, Crewman Lewis from Security, and Crewman Courtland from the medical department to aid in the investigation. As far as Enyd knew, this team was either already off the ship or just about to depart, with Colonel Hauq awaiting them on one of the Klingon carriers with the one captured still-breathing saboteur in their brig.
The team for investigating the Romulan leads was likewise already formed, though they had yet to deploy as Enyd had yet to talk to the head of the team. Petty Officer J’olan and Crewman Wilde from her department were already briefed and ready, and Lieutenant Ahn-Le had opted to take Ensign Samuelson with her from Intelligence. Lieutenant Rhys Williams had been more than a little confused about his assignment but when told of who would be leading the team and given a little background information on said team leader, he’d settled into his presumed role as counselor and mediator well enough. He chose Crewman Lewis to accompany him from Medical, with the addition of Ensign McArthur from Security just as a precautionary measure. Now, it was time to talk to the leader of this Romulan investigation loop. The final piece in their “whodunit” puzzle. The Romulan aide, Jaeih something or another, was already waiting for the arrival of their team aboard the Romulan flagship.
Enyd winced as she recalled how the dinner had ended so dramatically after such a promising beginning. While no one in the mess hall had killed each other when the intruder alert cut through the pleasantries, anyone who had been mingling on the “other’s” side of the room quickly dispersed back to their side with more than a few murmured curses and threats. It’d taken Stark, Enyd, and a number of others quite a time to calm folks down enough to reassure them they weren’t trying to kill everyone and then adjourn to their respective corners. In under an hour, they’d relayed what they knew of the attack, including the number of their fallen and the damages caused by the saboteurs. This had worked to assuage the Klingons marginally more than the Romulans once it was clear Theurgy crew had died. Apparently, the Romulans still found this suspicious, and likely because, given the right circumstances, they’d kill their own to make a point.
Enyd pinched the bridge of her nose. The feasibility of this alliance working beyond the immediate crisis was growing more and more difficult to picture. The Klingons were divided amongst themselves, increasingly so, on how to deal with both the Romulans and the Federation, with the Theurgy’s presence offering another variable to contend with. As reports from the attack against the President herself poured in over the feeds, whatever distrust and disquiet Klingon leaders had toward supporting Theurgy and remaining as firm a Federation member as they were amplified. Among the Romulans, whatever reports they were receiving regarding the attack against the President and the evidence of civil discord among the Klingons was fueling their already hyperactive wariness nerve, and now they spoke in more complex roundabout riddles than when they’d first arrived. Enyd had never really gambled much, but if she were more of a betting woman, she’d bet that the minute Theurgy and the Martok’s combined forces worked to remove Tal’Aura from the Romulan chess board, Donatra would gladly turn her back on them, and potentially even her weapons.
Granted, Enyd wasn’t “allowed” to say such things to her subordinates, not as a department head. They needed to see that she was still committed to maintaining this alliance—and she was—and that she still believed they could successfully stave off Tal’Aura’s attacks through this alliance—she would like to believe this. There was so much to do and so little time to do it in before the shit hit the proverbial fan, and that was why she was standing here staring across the bit of space that separated their ship from the nearest Romulan vessel, dreading the conversation she was about to have.
“I was told you wanted to see me.” His familiar, raspy voice curled around her spine and sent a shiver through her body. Enyd glanced at the reflected image of the former Romulan mercenary, briefly admiring his physique, before she turned to face him. “Regarding a mission.”
Enyd folded her hands in front of her body to keep from flapping them around like a flightless bird. She found, failed, and then succeeded in keeping the images of their almost time together on Qo’Nos from her mind, very much aware that her thoughts and feelings were an open book and an influential one to the enigmatic man standing in front of her. Keeping her eyes focused on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder, Enyd relayed what she knew of the circumstances, what Stark had conveyed as her hopes as a result of the investigation, and the names of his future teammates. Drauc listened without expression, his body as still and controlled as always.
“I am to lead this team through the investigation among the Rommulans, seeking out the saboteurs only? Or is there something else?” He angled his head as if daring her to withhold her own misgivings.
Enyd sighed. “I have concerns that Donatra will betray the alliance as soon as Tal’Aura’s threat is eradicated.” Drauc nodded as if this was common knowledge. “If you find proof of this being fact and not just my own fears, anything that can help to protect Theurgy in case she does turn…”
“Understood.” Drauc maintained eye contact for a heartbeat more before asking. “Anything else?”
“Professionally? No. Personally, I could say ‘be safe,’ but I trust that you will do whatever is necessary to ensure mission success even if it is detrimental to your own self.” Enyd’s features softened. “Even so, I do hope the best for you. For all of you.”
Drauc nodded, placing a hand over his chest in a semi-formal bow. “So do we all.” Turning, his finger paused just shy of the door console. “Be at peace, Madsen.”
Enyd nodded to his back, watching him quietly as he stepped back into the corridor and disappeared on silent steps. Letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Enyd fell back against the window at her back. At least she hadn’t had to use a mental spray bottle to keep images of his nude flesh from her mind during their conversation.
[Madsen to Stark.] It was time to update the woman who had to keep their puppet show's strings together. NARRATOR: During the subsequent missions to investigate both the Klingons and the Romulans, it was discovered that the treachery lay at multiple levels within both “allied” groups. With evidence pointing to foreknowledge of the saboteur’s identities among the inner circle of Donatra’s group and a lingering sense of discontent toward Martok fueling the continued internal dissension among a few of his leading military men, it was determined to play their “cards” closer to their chest moving forward. While Martok appeared to remain a genuine ally, Donatra’s sincerity was further questioned.
Several Theurgy crew went missing before either mission could be considered a success. Among the missing were Ensign L’Nari, Lt. JG Anh-Le, Lieutenant Rhys Wiliams, Brigadier Natauna, and Drauc T’Laus. The surviving crew noted and appreciated their sacrifices as their efforts laid the groundwork to maintain alliances and secure a peaceable future.
Reggie groaned in her seat as she and Logan continued their reconnaissance patrol maneuvers. Since shit had gone south at the reception, she had needed plenty of time to think. Not about the Klingons, or the Romulans, or even the hostilities that were likely to erupt. No. Her thoughts wandered to T’Less of all people. She hadn’t even shown up, and it seemed that the more they tried to re-connect, the more the universe around them conspired to prevent that from happening. Reggie wasn’t sure if that was a sign that she should give up or if it was an opportunity to continue and develop her patience. Still, it steamed her to not have any reliable sense of where this relationship of theirs was going to go.
[Gemini,] Wraith said over the comm. [Are you picking up anything on long-range comms?]
Her first instinct was to chastise her wingman for such a silly question. If there were a transmission coming in, it certainly would not be on the long-range channels, and it certainly would not be directed at her or Logan. Yet his voice communicated sincerity, and while she hadn’t known him for long, she knew Logan well enough that he didn’t screw around.
“Nothing on my end, but then again, I haven’t been looking. Standby.”
Reggie switched over to the long-range communications array, and instantly her board lit up. The carrier wave was weak, and there was considerable interference, but it was certainly an intended transmission.
She brought the nose of her ship around. Wraith remaining formed up on her and as they flew in the direction from which the transmission was coming, the signal grew slightly stronger until the interference cleared up enough for them to establish a trace lock.
“Holy shit,” she said as the computer read the metadata of the encrypted signal. “It’s from the Apache.”
[That’s good news, isn’t it, Gemini? Doesn’t that mean they were successful?]
Reggie tried to access the message. “Not necessarily. The data is encrypted, and we don’t have the ciphers on board. We will need to get this back to Theurgy. How far out are we?”
There was silence on the line before Logan replied. [25 light minutes from the Den].
That was too far out, Reggie decided. Yes, Theurgy had stronger transceivers than their fighters and could cut through the interference easier than she could. But there was no telling how much more badly degraded the message would become if it traveled the remaining distance. She made her decision.
“Alter course and re-set your transceiver settings to max. We are going to relay this thing through the fighters back to the base. Hopefully, we can give it the boost it needs to arrive.”
They lay in their course while Athen made the adjustments and opened the line to Theurgy.
“Wolf-13 to Theurgy. Gemini to Commander Stark. We’re receiving an encrypted transmission from the Apache. It’s badly garbled, so we’re going to relay it to you in real-time. Tell the folks in Intel to stand by.” NARRATOR: Unbeknownst to Gemini and her wingman, or even the Theurgy itself, in fulfilling their objective to scan the rings of Ba’Ku, Captain Jackson and the crew of the Oneida went missing. With no responses to Starfleet hails or personal contacts alike, the Oneida and her crew were listed as missing in action, with a full-scale investigation launched from Starfleet headquarters.
Meanwhile, the science and intelligence departments aboard Theurgy could decrypt the message from the Apache and piece the data together with the information sent from the Oneida, successfully breaking through the mystery on how to adjust their shielding to better protect against thalaron weaponry. While untested in battle and unknown if it was an exact application of the data, this information was subtly shared with Martok, with a strategic delay enforced with informing Donatra of their success. The intentional delay was enacted as a result of evidence that some saboteurs involved in seeking to destroy this fledgling alliance had come from within Donatra’s close circle.
Kythalie's shift had ended her up at the battle bridge security checkpoint. Carrying a type II phase pistol and a type III phaser assault rifle, Kythalie's eyes went over each person that entered or left the battle bridge. The tension in the air was volatile, that much she could tell. It wouldn't be long now before they'd arrive at the Triangle. As more officers began to flock onto the battle bridge, the moment was nigh. A slight sensation was the only thing that indicated the drop from warp. They had arrived at their location and would soon, hopefully, meet up with the other parts of the Theurgy since they were in MVAM mode right now.
That hope was soon squashed, though, as a red alert sounded throughout the ship. As the doors of the battle bridge slid open once more, Kythalie could overhear the chatter.
"Sensors are picking up a large force of vessels dropping out of warp now!" One officer exclaimed, at which another confirmed, "A carrier group, it seems. Scans confirm that they are Romulan."
There didn't seem to be a sign of the others so far and Kythalie's mental barriers began to strain as the thoughts of so many people on the bridge were becoming louder and louder. She glanced over at her fellow security officer, who was glancing over at her. They both couldn't do much about the situation besides doing their duties. With the carrier strike group appearing before them, it wouldn't take long before a space battle would ensue.
"Sensors are picking up additional ships dropping out of warp." One of the officers exclaimed, "It appears to be the Ranger."
This was the conclusion, which meant that Vector 3 wouldn't be on its own in a fight. Said fight wouldn't last long against a full carrier group...
Then again, Kythalie wasn't sure how much longer they'd survive with two ships and a contingent of fighters. They needed the others...
They needed them now.
"Tal Aura's forces have raised shields and are preparing their weapons to fire!"
This was the start of it. Another day that would be filled with death, pain, and suffering. Hopefully, they'd come out of this fight alive and without too many wounds. Though wounds were going to be made… NARRATOR: By the time Tal’Aura’s carrier group arrived at the Triangle, the Ranger and the Erudite had returned and Theurgy crew successfully shared its decrypted knowledge on necessary shielding adjustments to counteract the Romulan thalaron weaponry. While freely shared with Martok, a strategic delay in relaying their success with Donatra was enforced. When Donatra was finally informed of their success, a few hours before Tal’Aura’s forces arrived, many within her inner circle expressed a desire to withdraw from the alliance altogether, seeing their own strategic advantage against both Klingons and Starfleet jeopardized now that they knew of how to shield from thalaron radiation. Donatra, however, remained stalwart in her decision to remain at the Triangle alongside the Theurgy and Martok’s forces, far more interested in the time being with destroying her political rival than in squabbling over future advantages.
“Alright.” Said Vanya. “Can I trust you, at least for now?”
The woman nodded. “I... want to tell the story, but I think that we don’t have time.”
She shot a bitter look at the corpse on the floor. “Suffice to say, he killed the only person who I ever loved, and the death was completely covered up.” She looked back at Vanya.
“My lover was shy, artistic, and he wouldn’t hurt a single person. For his murder to be unanswered, I can’t live in a state like this.”
Vanya wasn’t about to kill this stranger who had helped her, and chances are she would be discovered for what she had done. And yet, if she followed Vanya to the Federation, it would be tough.
She put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I was sent away – not by choice, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. But its not easy. Being away from all that you have known, seeing the ideas that you have been taught as real are proven to be false, or unpopular. You could turn around now and run and say that I killed him and live your life.
“I want to help. Zoin was my love, my world, my life. This… is nothing to me without him.” Vanya wasn’t sure that this stranger knew what she meant. However, her first point was the most important they didn’t have the time.
“Alright… if I know my crew, they are already getting the data that we need. We need to make it easy for them.”
“Easier said than done.” The unnamed Romulan said. “They will already be on us… wait… I need to access that console.”
Vanya held up her phaser. If this was some bizarre trick or game, then she would quickly step in. With a single look, she gave her a sign that she would be able to stop her if she showed a single form of betrayal.
“I’m a low-level data technician. When one of these pigs file the wrong report, they come to people like me.” She said. That certainly explained the fact that she didn’t take out Vanya as well as the apparent killer. “I was here when they installed this system. Sure, there are parts I can’t access… but a few permissions weren’t quite deleted when the system came online.” The young girl's fingers moved like a pianists on their keys, an artist doing her thing. Finally, Hundreds of alert klaxons started to go off. Vanya watched as a rotating wall of personnel photos filled the screen, each with the word “Wanted” on their photo.
“I have uploaded the base roster, minus myself, into the wanted criminal's database. Now, every crewman’s clearance code is uploaded to the system as wanted criminals. They still have weapons, but the few automated defenses we do have won’t tell friends from foes. Oh, and the shock of having hundreds of criminals on board will probably overload the system.”
Vanya was still worried. More ships could still be on the way, and someone might be able to put everything back where it was. Still, it was a start. She tapped her combadge. “Vanya to all personnel. I suggest an immediate retreat back to our evac points. I’m bringing a defector that might have just made this shindig a lot easier. NARRATOR: The young Romulan’s efforts proved fruitful, indeed, and, combined with the continued efforts of the other three teams still deployed on the Romulan station, madness and chaos among the Romulan forces increased to bedlam levels. Lieutenant Vanya was not the only member of the infiltration team(s) to come across a defector willing to sell out their comrades for an escape off the station and out from under the authoritarian rule of Tal’Aura and the Tal’Shiar. It seemed discontent lay within the hearts of many…
~~
[ Lt Reika Sh’laan | Maintenance Corridor | Romulan Space Station | Romulan Space]
As soon as Reika heard the words, she activated her comms. “Triggers have been found. Everyone, we’re evacuating now. Let’s move!”
She moved to the hallway, supporting the rifle with both of her hands as best as she could. While the pain of her injury had been deadened, her arm was only functioning at 75% capacity. As she peeked around the corner, she saw a Romulan holding a phaser rifle on a member of the Theurgy crew. She didn’t hesitate. She simply shot the Romulan in the back - right between the shoulder blades. “We’re heading out,” Reika called to the member of their crew and tipped her head toward the exit. Reika had seen the crew member before, but she wasn’t sure of her name.
But as crewmembers headed for the doorway in which she stood, there was a crackle in her helmet followed by an unfamiliar voice. “Lieutenants Ashby and Sh’laan. This is Petty Officer 3rd class Kaudia Cheung.” The woman rattled off a correct authentication code and stated that she was from Starfleet intel. After more necessary background information, Reika heard what the woman had called to give them in the first place. “I’m currently coordinating with my team to bring them to a shuttle bay twelve decks up from you to secure transportation for extraction…Please advise on your intentions, as my team has been ordered to join you for your return to Theurgy.”
Reika paused for a moment. So this was how they were going to get off this Romulan monstrosity. But twelve decks? That was a lot and everything could go wrong between here and there. But seeing as how they were dropped off, Reika knew that this was their best chance.
“I copy you Cheung. We’ll meet you at the shuttle - assuming we can get there.”
To the rest of the group with her, Reika turned to face the ones that she could. “In order to get off the station, we need to head twelve decks above us. Starfleet Intel is waiting to get us off. Let’s see if we can find us the equivalent of a Romulan Jeffries tube and climb our way out. Let’s move people!”
Something in her had switched back to her Tactical training. She stepped outside of the doorway and pointed her rifle in the opposite direction of where the others were headed. Once everyone was out of the room where they had found the triggers, Reika took off at a jog after them. One by one, she saw the crew members disappear into what she could only assume was a Jeffries tube. Bringing up the rear, she slipped her rifle around to her back and ducked into the aperture. Doing her best to hold on with one hand and wrench the door shut with her hurt arm, she winced. With one more pull with bad arm, she was able to get the entrance closed.
It was then that she looked up. This ladder appeared never-ending. Checking out the deck number written on the inside of the door, she started up after the rest of the crew. Right arm and foot, left arm and foot. Right arm and foot, left arm and foot. Over and over. They were only six decks in, and Reika found it hard to continue to push herself. Whatever pain reliever Ashby had given her was beginning to wear off, and the pain in her injured arm was growing by the moment. The more the pain grew, the less she was able to effectively use it.
She looked up again. Everyone above her was still climbing. She paused, trying to catch her breath. She groaned loudly as her injured arm loudly protested against further movement.
“Breath, Reika. Just breathe.” She did heed her own advice. “Get off your ass, Lieutenant,” she told herself. “You can do this. You have to do this.”
But as her self-pep talk died on her lips, she heard the metallic clink of a hatch opening, and looking down, she saw a head of dark hair and angular eyelashes looking up at her. “Shit,” she said as she saw someone climb into the ladder with them. “Move i,t everyone. We have visitors on our six.” Sure they were a good six decks above them, but with Reika’s arm, this was going to be a race to the finish.
She shouldn’t have found it amazing that she was now able to move better than she had before. Nothing like your life being on the line to put some umph in your step. Reika climbed - just one rung at a time, but each rung was one closer to her destination. After another deck or two, she looked back down. The Romulans were gaining on her.
She activated her comms. But as soon as she did, she started back up the ladder. “Cheung, the first of our people should be exiting a hatch near you shortly,” Sh’laan paused her speech for several large gulps of air. “We took a ladder up, but some Romulans are hot on our tail. I’m bringing up the rea,r and my arm was injured, so be ready for a quick takeoff once we’re with you.”
Once again, she drew a breath quickly. Two decks left to go. She didn’t want to waste time looking down to see how close the Romulans were; she just climbed as quickly as she could. When she was only one deck below where they were exiting the hatch, Reika’s bad arm gave out, but she caught herself with her good arm - well, it was her good arm before she wrenched it to catch herself from falling.
Her feet searched for a rung; it was a good three seconds before she found her footing again. Her eyes glanced down as her feet tried to gain their footing again. “Damn!” she said.
The Romulans were only about two decks below her as she placed her feet down and started up again; this time, a shot hit the inside of the tube just to the right of her head. “Oh, shit!” She had no time for any injured arms - let alone two. Pain was no longer a factor; living was. She was only several rungs below the opening. Another shot missed her by inches. By this time, someone’s head emerged above her and offered her their hands to help hoist her up.
It was a good thing they had because this time the rung on which her feet were planted had been hit and gave way, but by this time she was pulled through the opening. Sh'Zahn had a tight hold on her. Reika nodded her thanks. Once she was sure Reika was on her feet, she slammed the hatch shut and wedged a piece of metal across the door. If the Romulans got through, it would take them a while.
With Sh'Zahn helping her, they made their way to where Cheung was waiting for them. Without a word, they - the last two of the group entered the shuttle. Whoever was piloting wasted no time detaching the docking clamps and getting the group away from the station as quickly as possible. NARRATOR: Unbeknownst to Sh’laan, a total of three members of the infiltration teams would be killed before successful extraction, including Asst. Chief Intelligence Officer Amarik, Lt. Tek, Lt JG Martin, and Lt. Okafor, with another requiring medical attention and stasis once they reached Theurgy again, namely Lt. Rez. While they’d managed to successfully obtain the information they’d come for, it was not without the loss of valued crewmembers and friends.
~~
[CPO Dominic Lau | Maintenance Tubes | Romulan Space Station | Romulan Space]
TIME: Day 2, 0200hrs
Chief Lau and Bessir alternated between crawling and descending as they moved through the station. The Intel chief mentally shook his head ruefully as he thought about the sequence of events that had led him to this point. The entire operation was a failure since there had been nothing remotely covert since the operation on the station had fallen apart. Now, they were on another station, making their way out after leaving a mass of wreckage behind. This wasn't a covert op; this was mayhem. It was a positive; they were so good at it since he wasn't sure how likely he was to be able to get on another covert operation after this. Maybe his boss needed an excuse to pull him from the field. That would be unfortunate.
That happy thought carried him to a level with a junction that had a full-size door when Cheung's voice came in over the comm system. "Okay, Chief. That's the door you need to exit. I'm still making my way down and guiding a few other groups toward the shuttle area. Just a heads up. The Theurgy group has evac'd the station on their ship, but we can use several runabout-type shuttles to get everyone out."
"Acknowledged. How long till everyone is out?" The Chief queried as he unslung his rifle. Bessir did the same shortly after landing like a cat.
"I'd say maybe about five more minutes, Chief." The tech specialist estimated. "Oh. By the way. The Romulan security team that was chasing the Theurgy crew is standing nearby to the left of the door, aboouuuuut 15 meters away."
Chief Lau nodded at this data. "Got it. See you soon." Looking at Bessir, the two gave each other a grin.
"Flash and boom?" Bessir nodded.
"Sounds about right. On 3?" Chief Lau plucked a grenade off his belt while the sniper pulled a flash bang. "Of course. 1...2....3"
The sniper hit the door control, revealing a mostly intact corridor beyond. A quick look confirmed a gaggle of targets, and an underhand toss delivered the pyrotechnic device into the midst of the group. Chief Lau tossed the armed explosive grenade to the halfbreed, and the bomb soon followed as both men opened their mouths and covered their ears for a moment. An explosion and screams followed, and the two men exited the maintenance junction with rifles raised. The two swiveled their eyes quickly, identifying those who had escaped the blast. A few were trying to crawl somewhere, anywhere to escape the devastation visited upon them, and the operatives shot them before moving on.
With the bay secured, Chief Lau and Bessir waited for everyone else to show up. It didn't take long, and the Chief moved to split the group amongst as many of the ships they could steal before giving the order to launch. NARRATOR: Though the Chief did have a point, this was a terrible excuse for a covert mission, it was not a complete failure as a mission. The infiltration teams had been able to secure the data necessary to transmit back to the Theurgy at the Triangle, they had picked up a few defectors willing to share secrets and support as the teams beat a retreat to their respective evac points, and a few members of the infiltration teams had managed to “borrow” some extra technology and data, to be studied later when they were running for their lives. Altogether, it wasn’t a failure, but for someone whose focus was on subtly, it was indeed an embarrassment.
Kestra took in a deep breath as she fitted the mask over her nose and mouth. Almost immediately, her vision became less loopy and more realistic, a sensation that all but confirmed her suspicion that her perception problems were due to some kind of psychotropic hallucinogen the Romulans had inserted into the air. Although she couldn't know for sure, the Trill suspected the Romulans might have used it as a countermeasure against their incursion. No matter. The call that the trigger data had been recovered came through, and all the teams received verbed evac orders.
According to the data Cheung had fed her before she lost contact, Kestra was closest to the Apache, a support ship from Theurgy that had ferried blue and red teams to the outpost. She had lost contact with the Mary Baldwin, the freighter that had brought her, Lau, Knox and the others. Given the ship's state when she had disembarked, Kestra did not hold out much hope the ship was still in one piece.
Fortunately, Cheung had had the opportunity to perform the required IFF handshakes so the Red and Blue teams would recognize the crew of the Baldwin, Purple Team, as friendlies. Still, she was glad for the opaque mask as it covered enough of her face that she could avoid questions and confusion about why she looked like one of their pilots for just a little longer. At least the cuts and wounds she had sustained bled Trill red and not Romulan green. That, at least, should buy her a little credibility that she wasn't a Romulan spy. It didn't take her long to board the Apace once she arrived at the extraction coordinates. Already, there were a handful of Federation crew aboard, and she wasted no time stowing her weapon and getting out of the way.
[Pren, you there?]
Kestra's hand shot to her combadge. "Cheung! Damn, it's good to hear your voice. Thought you were gone."
[Not Quite, though we came close.]
"Status?"
[The Baldwin is gone. We had to find other transportation out]
"Do you need support?"
[Negative. We commandeered a Romulan runabout. Even managed a quick sweep to beam over some of the personal effects. Didn't get everything. Best we could do, though.]
She didn’t give that any more thought. Saving personal gear was nice but hardly a priority. Plus, the only thing that mattered - her research and orders- were on isolenear chips tucked into pockets inside her tunic.
Outside, weapons fire drew her attention as more people boarded. The Romulans were not giving up so easily. Kestra had no idea about the tactical capability of this ship, and she suspected the Romulans could track their own Runabout, even if it were cloaked. They had gotten the data they wanted. But it was useless they were all killed before they got back to their ship... her ship now.
"Cheung," she said as she pushed gently through the growing group of people boarding, "none of this is going to mean a damn if we don't get the data back to Theurgy. We need to send them what we have now!"
[No good L.T. The Romulans have jammed all subspace frequencies. We only have short-range comms.]
"Can you break through?"
[Maybe. But the window won’t be that big. The data stream will have to be compressed.]
"How small?"
[Small as you can make it.]
The deck shuddered beneath her as the engines came online, and the Apache began to withdraw from the ravaged station.
"I think we're on the move?”
[You are. We're matching course and speed]
Again, the deck rocked, but this was far more violent. Kestra recognized a weapon strike when she experienced one.
"Cheung. Get on it. I'll work on the compression.”
Kestra was no communications officer, nor was she an intelligence operative, but her time during the war had left her with more than a few tricks up her sleeve. Still, between the unfamiliar interface on the console, the rocking from the attack, and her own sense of urgency, she slipped up far more times than she cared to admit. Her first attempt only achieved a 10% reduction in size: Not enough, according to Cheung. According to her, they needed at least 40%. She reprogrammed the compression algorithm. It wasn't perfect, she knew, but the last time she had used this one was years ago-and on the unfamiliar interface, she couldn't rely on muscle memory. This attempt yielded better results but fell short of the mark at only a 27% reduction.
"Damnit." then, she remembered the subroutine she had forgotten. Being such a small part of the overall process, it was easy to overlook. But with the way it functioned within the algorithm, it could provide such effective results. She keyed it in and ran the algorithm again.
[L.T., this is Cheung, I hope you're ready with the data stream. I’ve managed to cut through the jamming, but I don’t know how long I can keep it open.] The algorithm was completed, achieving only a 32% reduction.
"I don't know. I'm not at 40 yet."
[Send it L.T! When I lose this, I won't get it back] She didn't think when she pressed the transmit button. The progress bar cycled as the data was sent back to the Theurgy. It progressed faster than she said track before it blinked out, only to be replaced by a message indicating the connection had been lost. [I just lost the frequency L.T. Did you get the data stream sent?]
Kestra looked at the blank screen. 'I don't know.” NARRATOR: Though they would not know of their success until much later, the combined efforts of Cheung and Pren did indeed work to get the data stream sent. It would take quite some time before the Theurgy received the data. However, it would prove to be a type of deux ex machina, giving Theurgy and her allies the necessary edge to face Tal’Aura’s encroaching forces.
~~
[ CPO Knox | Somewhere inside the Romulan Space Station | Romulan Space ]
Knox was running down a long hallway towards what he hoped would eventually provide him with a way up a few levels to the hangar bay when he went splat. Actually, it was the whole station that went splat. The violent shockwave that ripped through the station was so strong that it threw Knox against the wall hard enough that he reflexively reverted to his liquid state to avoid injury. He turned into a pasty orange splat on the wall and then oozed down to the floor in a state of bewilderment. Knox’s mind raced. Had he caused this explosion? He racked his brain, thinking about all the things that he had caused to go boom on the station. Nothing would have been this awesome! Then he remembered the Mary Baldwin. “Oh!...Right…The warp core…”
The glob of murder orange juice slowly took on the shape of a humanoid again, then eventually took on the features of his female CPO Knox form, complete in her Starfleet uniform. She steadied herself as aftershocks shook the station further. It felt like explosive decompressions were running along the edge of the station. Well, if speed was necessary, Knox knew how to go fast. Bending over to pick up the lightning-thrower weapon and a spare charge pack, Knox prepared to speed run this station and get to the cool ship she wanted to steal. With another heavy series of thuds from explosive decompressions nearby, Knox sprinted to a door and forced it open. Running down the next corridor at a full sprint, Knox ran into a group of Romulans also fleeing from something. More monsters, maybe? Knox didn’t care; she just wanted to get to the hangar quickly now. Her kill count was sufficient for an outing, but these easy targets fell into her lap.
Zap! Zap! Zap!
The bolts from this handheld lightning thrower arced out towards the unsuspecting trio—white hot energy crackled with a tinge of blue at the edges. The three Romulans didn’t have much time to react. Their bodies going ridged when struck, then shaking like being electrocuted to death. Because they were being electrocuted to death, all three fell on the floor, smoking and twitching in a small pile. Knox bent down and had a good look at each of them. Just in case she wanted to take on their visage at a later time. Then it was off to the races again. Running down to another door to find a small service hatch.
Inside the service hatch was a ladder that led either up or down. Knox believed that the closest hanger was up from where she currently was. So, up she went. Keeping her eyes open for anyone else who might want to use this ladder. The short climb up two decks was uneventful, but the ladder went no further. Having to find another way to continue, Knox unslung her new favorite mega taser and prepared to show the Romulans the meaning of haste.
The second door that Knox came to had a heap of dying Romulans in it. One of those awesome monsters was lying dead at one end of the room, surrounded by body parts. A few decapitated corpses were near it also. Probably the thagomizer. Then, some had been hit by phaser fire, or maybe they were choked to death. Either way, it was a scene of carnage. Knox stepped lightly over the bodies on the way to the door on the far side and saw a few intact corpses. In a passing thought, Knox decides to imprint another Romulan or two to impersonate. This one is a strong and mostly intact Romulan male whose uniform pants have been slightly pulled down. Knox examines his genitals so as to be able to impersonate a male of the species fully. Her eyes went wide in shock as she looked at his manhood. “Ridges! They have ridges on their cocks?”
Knox yanked down the pants of 3 more Romulan men to find the same thing. All of them had ridged cocks! “Damn, those lucky Romulan bitches! That has to feel better than a smooth dicked human!” She exclaimed. Then, a thought hit her. All the females she had imprinted on. What if their insides were not exactly like a human female? Setting down her weapon, Knox stripped the lower half of a Romulan woman who had been bisected with her top half missing. Ramming a hand that turned into an orange liquid inside the dead female’s lower half, Knox found out that Romulan women were slightly different inside than human women. It's not much different, mind you, but it's just enough to get caught on a mission that required her to be ‘Deep’ undercover. Pulling down the pants of 3 more girls just to make sure, Knox took imprints of their love canals so she could really play the part of a Romulan female if the need arose. All of them had similar variations that set their meat butterflies apart from human women.
Just then, with her hand shoved up a dead Romulan woman’s gnome canoe, the door slid open as a Romulan man and woman walked into the room, catching Knox in quite the act.
“Uh…It's not what it looks like.” Knox said quickly in Federation standard. The two had a horrified look on their faces and were not convinced at all by Knox’s lame reaction. Raising their disruptors at Knox, the officer shouted, also in Federation standard, “Why the fuck are you here?”
Surprised and happy that at least some Romulans can speak something she understands, Knox smiles broadly. “If you don’t shoot me, I will tell you exactly why we are here and what our mission was.”
The two give each other apprehensive looks and keep their disruptors aimed at Knox, with her hand still shoved up a dead Romulan woman's slime pond. “Well. What was your mission?”
Knos slowly pulled the orange imprint of the dead girl’s roast beef sandwich that she had taken, ‘For Science,’ was careful to have the hand reform as it came free not to let the two hot heads with guns know that she was a changeling. Then Knox answered, standing to her full height and raising her hands, with correct anatomy, over her head. “We were sent here to steal something. Not sure what. My job was to create chaos on the station as a diversion.” While speaking, Knox grew a skinny tendril out of her heel and wrapped up around the handle and trigger of the lightning thrower.
The anger flared on the faces of her two foes as they hefted their weapons to fire. But Knox was faster on the trigger from an angle they didn’t expect.
Zap! Zap!
The first bolt hit the man she was speaking to in the lower stomach, and he doubled over with what sounded like a Wilhelm scream. The next bolt struck the woman in her side, and she bent sideways, causing her weapon to discharge wide and miss Knox. Both fell to the ground with a series of twitches as the lights overhead blinked rapidly with the energy overload. While the two Romulans finished their death ‘A la Electric Boogaloo’ in the most groovy rave fashion, Knox heard voices from others coming down the hallway after them. It turns out they were not alone. His disco of death was over, with the lights returning to normal and the twitching stopping. Knox grabbed the lightning thrower and sidestepped to get into the deep pocket of the room, ready for close quarters combat.
But that is when things took a turn. Just as the rest of the team entered the doorway, the pressure in the room dropped, and the air rushed out the open door. Knox was pulled towards said door rapidly and caught a glimpse down the hallway. The station had opened up all the doors leading to the outside vacuum of space! Reaching for the door controls to override the system and close the door to the room, Knox got a glimpse of the gaggle of Romulans being sucked down the hallway and around the corner, out of sight and presumably out of the station.
Using six extra hands, Knox held on for all she was worth until the door closed and stopped the air from trying to pull her from the station along with all the dead bodies. Sadly she lost her new lighting weapon that was sucked out along with everything else. Knox had held onto the door frame with that extra hand, deciding it was best to lose a toy instead of her life. Now, with the situation somewhat resolved, Knox needed off this station and quickly. It seemed that the very station itself was trying to kill everyone. Time to steal a cool vehicle and leave!
Finding a service conduit, Knox abandoned her female form and returned to her thick orange juice consistency and frantically flowed and slithered in an upwardly direction as much as possible. The shaking and whooshing of decompressions echoed in his small tunnel. Finally, Knox reached what appeared to be two floors below the level of the hanger bay. However, further progress was impeded because the service connector stopped. This was the end of the line for this little maintenance chute. Probably due to the thick metal and composite-reinforced structure of the hanger itself. This meant Knox was just below the hanger and didn’t have a direct route yet to get up to the entrance. Besides, there was lots of shooting from a few floors up and back towards the station's interior. Most likely, the entrance to the hangar had descended into a warzone.
Knox needed another way to one of this station's many hangers, and quickly. Fortunately, a way seemed to McGuffin itself into his path, in the form of two Romulans wearing EV suits and heading for the nearest airlock. Running up behind them, Knox took the form of a female Romulan from earlier. Knox jumped in with them just as they reached an airlock and opened it up. The two were surprised at her presence and yelled something at her, which Knox took to mean, “Are you crazy? You don’t have an EV suit on, and we are about to go into the vacuum of space!” But really, that was just a guess because Knox planned on getting a suit from one of them quickly.
With a stabbing motion, Knox speared through the male Romulan with a spear he grew out of his arm. The speared Romulan let out a guttural grunt and slammed back against the bulkhead. The back of his head triggered the airlock to start. Knox now had just seconds to get the one remaining EV suit from the Romulan woman standing in shock next to her.
Turning to the stunned female, Knox said, “I need your spacesuit, ma’am.” As he pinned her to the wall. There was a look of disbelieving sheer terror on the girl’s face as many tentrals sprang from Knox’s back and undulated around her. The astonished woman could barely make a sound as the small, prehensile tentacles quickly stripped her of her EV suit. Knox could feel the air pressure dropping now and picked up the pace, pouring herself into parts of the suit as it was taken from the poor Romulan girl. In just seconds, Knox was standing there in a full EV suit she had just commandeered as the now nude Romulan chick started to choke and gasp in the low air pressure. Then, with a whoosh, the three were pulled out into the vacuum of space as the door opened. The dead Romulan male in an EV suit spurted blood from his wounds in the front and back where he had been run through. Knox grabbed the dead guy and dying girl and stabilized herself as they floated out away from the station.
Seeing the hanger bay now as they drifted out, Knox took aim at where he wanted to go and flung the larger body, that of the Romulan male, in the opposite direction of the hanger bay. This was enough to get Knox moving in the right direction, more or less, but she would need to make another minor adjustment to her trajectory. Grabbing the now dead Romulan woman by her ankle, Knox flung her away at just the right angle to get steered towards the hanger. It was perfect! Knox turned and looked over her shoulder at the naked Romulan chick as her dead body, with arms and legs sprawled out, rotated into the void. “Thanks, babe!” was all Knox could think of saying, and briefly saluting the nude piece of space debris slowly cartwheeling to infinity.
Moments later, Knox landed in the hanger bay. She ducked just as a small runabout left the hanger. Then, a shuttle quickly followed. Everyone was getting out while they could. Knox took a moment to look around. There were a few shuttle-like craft around and another runabout sitting close by. They would all work to escape, but Knox wanted something more sporty. There, at the far end of the hanger, a garage door meant for a small craft was closed. Hearing some Romulans trying to break into the hangar behind him and none of them sounding happy, Knox sprinted away from the obvious correct choices for a getaway vehicle and opted to find out what was behind the secret door. When she arrived, Knox quickly hit buttons on the panel until the door opened for her. Darting inside, Knox found more or less what she hoped to find.
A small pointed craft. Only room for one in a cockpit with a clear canopy. It was a spacefighter of some sort. Knox didn’t have any idea what exactly it was. But it looked like it could fly in atmosphere and in space both. And it looked fast. A disruptor beam shot over her head. Speaking of fast, Knox decided to hurry, and this ride was as good as she would get. She jumped into the cockpit and closed the canopy. The controls seemed easy enough. Most humanoids had similar ideas about how to control small craft. A few seconds later, Knox exited the hangar bay and shot green laser-like beams of energy at the Romulans still in the hangar.
Once free of the station, Knox tried the comm system to make contact with other Federation personnel. After a few attempts, she was able to establish a link to another Federation ship making a getaway as well and was given the coordinates for a rendezvous location.
Sometime later, Knox and the other Federation members arrived at a set of coordinates called “The Triangle.” Knox didn’t actually see a triangle when they arrived. However, she swallowed her disappointment, like a load of bad-tasting spunk, and reached for the comms to call the other Federation vessels. But that is when disappointment abated! A fleet jumped into view as they dropped out of warp. NARRATOR: Leaving behind a ravaged station that would likely take months, if not years, to recover, the three-pronged effort to infiltrate, steal, distract, and escape was successfully pulled off. Continuously hounded by Romulan forces along the way, it was not without further damage to their ships (both original and “borrowed”) and surviving crew that they arrived back at the Triangle just in time to witness the kick-off of the skirmish between Tal’Aura’s carrier group, Donatra’s rebel forces, Martok’s defense group, and the Helmet.
