- CHAPTER 23 -
- Cargo Vessel ICS Pearl Harbor, Wolf 359, Enroute to Sol System -
The cargo ship cruised through the subspace corridor just like every other cargo ship plying the Empire's space. It was basically a long tube with hexagonal cargo cylinders attached to its mid part, warp and impulse engines on the rear, and a small crew compartment and main deflector mounted on the front. It was a true behemoth of the space lanes, easily the size of two Galaxy class ships, but with a normal crew of only 25 people. They were all were required to run the simplistic systems of the merchie, and nearly all of its massive volume was devoted to cargo canisters anyway.
Many of its holds were full with standard fare, edible foodstuffs for those who still preferred them to replicated food, ship parts that were either not easily replicated or unable to be replicated, trade goods from various far away places that were sure to interest the cosmopolitan peoples of Terra. But while many of this vessel's holds contained true goods, many did not. In fact, what those other holds carried would be an instant death sentence to the merchie's crew. Not that its current crew particularly cared about that, because one way or another this was a one way trip. They knew this from the outset, yet they were perfectly willing to carry out this mission. It would only be the first strike against their Terran oppressors, but it would enable the rest of the strikes to go ahead in a much easier way than they would have faced otherwise. All that remained was for the ship to enter Sol system and take up its position at the desired spot in orbit.
Weather it would make it there or not was still in question, for the space around Terra, more so than anywhere else in the galaxy, was tightly controlled. Powerful Imperial warships patrolled the travel corridors, and the most powerful fleet in the Empire defended the system. Massive spacedocks, battle stations and orbital weapons platforms were seeded thick enough that you could seemingly step from one to the next from the edge of the system nearly to Sol itself. And where the stations were thinner, vast shoals of self-replicating subspace mines swam silently in the dark void, ever watchful for enemies that stumbled into their midst. At regular intervals throughout the system, warp inhibitors were seeded nearly as thickly as the mines. They ensured that no one could sneak into Sol unannounced. The warp inhibitors also mounted sensitive detection equipment and tachyon detection grid installations, enabling them to scan for cloaked vessels trying to sneak into the heart of the Empire. The sheer scale of Sol's defenses was amazing, as was the cost to both build and then maintain them. But the Terran Empire spared no expense to defend its homeworld from outside attack.
The Pearl Harbor dropped back into realspace just beyond Pluto as the main subspace corridor linking Sol to the rest of the galaxy terminated. It was immediately targeted by no less than three Armageddon class battle stations. Their massive twin toadstool look bristled with weapons and sensors. This was the first major hurdle in the operation. If they were able to get past Sol's outer defensive perimeter, they stood a much greater chance of making it to their objective.
"Transmit your security ident immediately or you will be destroyed." Came the gruff, matter of fact voice of an Imperial space control operator. Even as he spoke, fire control sensors were lashing the cargo vessels hull in energy. The battle stations had large portions of their formidable weapons systems locked on the cargo ship. Being that it was both a civilian vessel and a merchie, the Rhodes mounted only light navigational shields. But even if it had been equipped with the most powerful Monitor class shields, they wouldn't have lasted long against the fire power of the Armageddon battle stations. They were currently throwing every sensor imaginable against the merchie, searching for anything that looked out of place.
"Security ident 133394-Alpha-Beta-Twin-7946, Imperial Cargo Ship Pearl Harbor, enroute to Terra out of New Valhalla." The ships Klingon captain said through a computer generated doppelganger. While the ruse wouldn't stand up to close electronic scrutiny, it was supposedly enough to pass the cursory inspection that the security perimeter used. While he gave the security ident to the traffic control operator, both the Pearl's central computer and a similar one on one of the battle stations were in communion with each other. They went through a complex series of codes in order to verify that the security ident was indeed assigned to this vessel and hadn't been tampered with in any way.
"Stand by for verification." The assembled crew on the bridge held their collective breaths. This was the point that would decide weather their mission ended almost before it began or weather they were nearly home free. Seconds ticked by like hours, and the bridge was silent except for the background sounds of an active starship, the nearly subsonic rumble of the ships warp core, the occasional quiet beep of a panel, the faint whisper of the air circulating through the bridge. All seemed magnified because of the unnatural silence that lingered for a seeming eternity.
"Ident verified, proceed on course 223 mark 94 at full impulse. Any deviation in course will be met with deadly force." And the channel to the Armageddon battle station's space control officer died. The crew let out their breath explosively and turned to grin at one another. They just might succeed after all.
"Helm," Captain Korath barked to his Romulan helmsman Solak, "lay in the specified course and engage at full impulse." He then sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face.
"Lining up on course 223 mark 94 and engaging full impulse." As he spoke, the starfield on the main viewer shifted slightly and the background throb of the ships engines increased as the ship kicked her speed up to nearly ¼ light speed. The slightly brighter than the rest of the stars yellow glow of Sol was slightly off center on the viewer, nearly hidden behind the ship that had entered the ingress corridor just prior to the Pearl Harbor. A long line of ships cruising deeper in system marked the corridor nearly as clearly as its encircling weapons platforms. At full impulse, it would take slightly better than 20 hours to travel to Terra orbit and there were another two checkpoints along the way. But the ECM system had functioned as advertised. The cargo pods that contained things other than cargo had been thoroughly scanned by the Armageddon's powerful sensors, yet they hadn't found anything alarming about them. They had showed up as more mechanical cargo, which was exactly what the ECM suites had been programmed to show.
"Ha!" came a nasally voice from behind Korath. "I told you that the ECM generators would fool the Imperials sensors! That will be five slips of gold pressed latinum!" The Ferengi engineer Brez said as he shoved his hand over Korath's shoulder to hold it open palmed in front of the Klingon Captain.
"And why would you even want it? You are never going to get a chance to spend it anywhere are you?" The frowning Klingon growled. He hated to lose, even if it was something as trivial as a small bet with a Ferengi, and who even if he collected would never get to enjoy his winnings.
"A deal is a deal; 16th Rule of Acquisition. So pay up!"
"Oh all right! If it will get you to shut up here, take your 5 slips." Korath dug into his pocket and pulled out the latinum. He slammed it forcefully into Brez's outstretched hand. The Ferengi jerked his hand back once it contained the latinum, as is Korath would try and take it back. Then once it was safe the short Ferengi half laughed, half giggled at his new fortune. Korath merely growled then refocused his attention back on the long line of starships in front of him. This was going to be a long 20 hours.
- ICS Pearl Harbor, 19 and ½ Hours Later -
The check at the other security points had gone as flawlessly as the first one had. Now the green and blue and white orb of Terra loomed large on the main viewer. Korath couldn't believe it, they had actually made it into the very heart of the Terran Empire's home system undetected. The codes the Orion Cartel had gotten a hold of had worked flawlessly. Korath knew that they had a potent intelligence apparatus, but security passes for Sol System were extremely rare to get a hold of for even TERRAN merchants! You had to know someone who would let you have access to one, and even then candidates had to go through exhaustive memory, history and reliability checks before the ident was granted. But all of that didn't matter, for it HAD been granted and it DID work to let the Pearl into Terra orbit.
- San Francisco, Council Tower, That same time -
Jack Chambers looked out across the assembled delegates, then turned away and began to walk out of the Council chamber. A stir was flowing across the members, for it wasn't everyday that someone quit the council. In fact, no one had EVER quit the council! Yet that was just what Jack had done. Surprisingly, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his back as he strode out of the warren of political creatures. His only regret is that he had delivered it on a day when his former friend, Chairman Greg Betare was busy elsewhere in the system and couldn't attend the meeting. But Jack couldn't go through another session with those self-serving prigs. If they wanted to keep their heads in the sand about the realities of the galaxy, the let them. He just wanted to be there when it came back to bite em in their exposed posteriors. The Council could say what they wanted, he was going out to the 'provinces' as it were to find out for himself just what was going on. If the governing body wasn't going to take action, then someone had to. Jack made his way into the exterior lift shaft and entered the car alone. It was one of the express tubes that served the Council Chamber alone, and the cityscape outside the armored windows began to seemingly grow as the lift made a speedy drop down to ground level. Jack's private shuttle was already waiting for him at the bottom when he exited the lift car. After a quick yet thorough preflight, He activated the contra grav drive and slipped into the traffic grid on an exit vector out of the city.
- ICS Pearl Harbor, Terra Orbit, That same time -
"What we do here today shall be remembered for an eternity! Great songs shall be sung of this day! We shall all be welcomed into the Gates of Sto- Vo-Kor and take our place among the honored dead!" Korath spoke via the all ships com. "Victory shall be ours!!" Then he closed the channel. While the Klingon's in the crew found it inspiring as hell, the rest of the species didn't find it nearly so. They each had their own reasons for volunteering for this mission, and while they were unified in their fight against the Imperial oppression of their individual species, none had chosen to say what they were exactly. Out of simple courtesy, none of the others had asked them.The Breen bridge officer turned towards him and emitted a series of overlapping synthetic sounding beeps and boops.
"I don't care that you don't believe in my 'quaint barbaric traditions'. Once we succeed in our plan we shall all become true warriors."
"Speak for yourself Korath." Solak said from the helm station. "I am doing this to help my people. If my death makes it easier for them to live in peace without having to worry about the next slave labor quota the Terran's issue, I shall die a happy Romulan." The Klingon smiled at that.
"I don't care what your reasons are. We shall die like warriors and our names shall forever more be spoken with reverence. We shall be like the heroes of old, before our empires were crushed under the Terran's boot heel. And I shall meet all of you in Sto-Vo-Kor and say I told you so." He said with a tooth filled grin, but then he sobered. "But we are not yet finished. Is everything at readiness?"
"Yes sir." Came the reserved reply from the Cardassian who had become co tactical officer along with a giant, deep green skinned Gorn who also hissed his readiness.
"Ready sir." Came the snarling/bagpipe sound of the Lyran com officer. From across the bridge, a similar, yet different sound came from the Mirak officer, indicating her readiness as well. Once all stations had sounded off, Korath flipped up a hidden panel on his chair, revealing a red button labeled commit in Klingonese. Without further ado, he jabbed his finger down onto the button, sending the mechanical mechanism into its fully depressed position. A series of loud bangs and an explosion was heard and emergency alarms began to wail across the ship.
- Cargo Vessel ICS Pearl Harbor, Wolf 359, Enroute to Sol System -
The cargo ship cruised through the subspace corridor just like every other cargo ship plying the Empire's space. It was basically a long tube with hexagonal cargo cylinders attached to its mid part, warp and impulse engines on the rear, and a small crew compartment and main deflector mounted on the front. It was a true behemoth of the space lanes, easily the size of two Galaxy class ships, but with a normal crew of only 25 people. They were all were required to run the simplistic systems of the merchie, and nearly all of its massive volume was devoted to cargo canisters anyway.
Many of its holds were full with standard fare, edible foodstuffs for those who still preferred them to replicated food, ship parts that were either not easily replicated or unable to be replicated, trade goods from various far away places that were sure to interest the cosmopolitan peoples of Terra. But while many of this vessel's holds contained true goods, many did not. In fact, what those other holds carried would be an instant death sentence to the merchie's crew. Not that its current crew particularly cared about that, because one way or another this was a one way trip. They knew this from the outset, yet they were perfectly willing to carry out this mission. It would only be the first strike against their Terran oppressors, but it would enable the rest of the strikes to go ahead in a much easier way than they would have faced otherwise. All that remained was for the ship to enter Sol system and take up its position at the desired spot in orbit.
Weather it would make it there or not was still in question, for the space around Terra, more so than anywhere else in the galaxy, was tightly controlled. Powerful Imperial warships patrolled the travel corridors, and the most powerful fleet in the Empire defended the system. Massive spacedocks, battle stations and orbital weapons platforms were seeded thick enough that you could seemingly step from one to the next from the edge of the system nearly to Sol itself. And where the stations were thinner, vast shoals of self-replicating subspace mines swam silently in the dark void, ever watchful for enemies that stumbled into their midst. At regular intervals throughout the system, warp inhibitors were seeded nearly as thickly as the mines. They ensured that no one could sneak into Sol unannounced. The warp inhibitors also mounted sensitive detection equipment and tachyon detection grid installations, enabling them to scan for cloaked vessels trying to sneak into the heart of the Empire. The sheer scale of Sol's defenses was amazing, as was the cost to both build and then maintain them. But the Terran Empire spared no expense to defend its homeworld from outside attack.
The Pearl Harbor dropped back into realspace just beyond Pluto as the main subspace corridor linking Sol to the rest of the galaxy terminated. It was immediately targeted by no less than three Armageddon class battle stations. Their massive twin toadstool look bristled with weapons and sensors. This was the first major hurdle in the operation. If they were able to get past Sol's outer defensive perimeter, they stood a much greater chance of making it to their objective.
"Transmit your security ident immediately or you will be destroyed." Came the gruff, matter of fact voice of an Imperial space control operator. Even as he spoke, fire control sensors were lashing the cargo vessels hull in energy. The battle stations had large portions of their formidable weapons systems locked on the cargo ship. Being that it was both a civilian vessel and a merchie, the Rhodes mounted only light navigational shields. But even if it had been equipped with the most powerful Monitor class shields, they wouldn't have lasted long against the fire power of the Armageddon battle stations. They were currently throwing every sensor imaginable against the merchie, searching for anything that looked out of place.
"Security ident 133394-Alpha-Beta-Twin-7946, Imperial Cargo Ship Pearl Harbor, enroute to Terra out of New Valhalla." The ships Klingon captain said through a computer generated doppelganger. While the ruse wouldn't stand up to close electronic scrutiny, it was supposedly enough to pass the cursory inspection that the security perimeter used. While he gave the security ident to the traffic control operator, both the Pearl's central computer and a similar one on one of the battle stations were in communion with each other. They went through a complex series of codes in order to verify that the security ident was indeed assigned to this vessel and hadn't been tampered with in any way.
"Stand by for verification." The assembled crew on the bridge held their collective breaths. This was the point that would decide weather their mission ended almost before it began or weather they were nearly home free. Seconds ticked by like hours, and the bridge was silent except for the background sounds of an active starship, the nearly subsonic rumble of the ships warp core, the occasional quiet beep of a panel, the faint whisper of the air circulating through the bridge. All seemed magnified because of the unnatural silence that lingered for a seeming eternity.
"Ident verified, proceed on course 223 mark 94 at full impulse. Any deviation in course will be met with deadly force." And the channel to the Armageddon battle station's space control officer died. The crew let out their breath explosively and turned to grin at one another. They just might succeed after all.
"Helm," Captain Korath barked to his Romulan helmsman Solak, "lay in the specified course and engage at full impulse." He then sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face.
"Lining up on course 223 mark 94 and engaging full impulse." As he spoke, the starfield on the main viewer shifted slightly and the background throb of the ships engines increased as the ship kicked her speed up to nearly ¼ light speed. The slightly brighter than the rest of the stars yellow glow of Sol was slightly off center on the viewer, nearly hidden behind the ship that had entered the ingress corridor just prior to the Pearl Harbor. A long line of ships cruising deeper in system marked the corridor nearly as clearly as its encircling weapons platforms. At full impulse, it would take slightly better than 20 hours to travel to Terra orbit and there were another two checkpoints along the way. But the ECM system had functioned as advertised. The cargo pods that contained things other than cargo had been thoroughly scanned by the Armageddon's powerful sensors, yet they hadn't found anything alarming about them. They had showed up as more mechanical cargo, which was exactly what the ECM suites had been programmed to show.
"Ha!" came a nasally voice from behind Korath. "I told you that the ECM generators would fool the Imperials sensors! That will be five slips of gold pressed latinum!" The Ferengi engineer Brez said as he shoved his hand over Korath's shoulder to hold it open palmed in front of the Klingon Captain.
"And why would you even want it? You are never going to get a chance to spend it anywhere are you?" The frowning Klingon growled. He hated to lose, even if it was something as trivial as a small bet with a Ferengi, and who even if he collected would never get to enjoy his winnings.
"A deal is a deal; 16th Rule of Acquisition. So pay up!"
"Oh all right! If it will get you to shut up here, take your 5 slips." Korath dug into his pocket and pulled out the latinum. He slammed it forcefully into Brez's outstretched hand. The Ferengi jerked his hand back once it contained the latinum, as is Korath would try and take it back. Then once it was safe the short Ferengi half laughed, half giggled at his new fortune. Korath merely growled then refocused his attention back on the long line of starships in front of him. This was going to be a long 20 hours.
- ICS Pearl Harbor, 19 and ½ Hours Later -
The check at the other security points had gone as flawlessly as the first one had. Now the green and blue and white orb of Terra loomed large on the main viewer. Korath couldn't believe it, they had actually made it into the very heart of the Terran Empire's home system undetected. The codes the Orion Cartel had gotten a hold of had worked flawlessly. Korath knew that they had a potent intelligence apparatus, but security passes for Sol System were extremely rare to get a hold of for even TERRAN merchants! You had to know someone who would let you have access to one, and even then candidates had to go through exhaustive memory, history and reliability checks before the ident was granted. But all of that didn't matter, for it HAD been granted and it DID work to let the Pearl into Terra orbit.
- San Francisco, Council Tower, That same time -
Jack Chambers looked out across the assembled delegates, then turned away and began to walk out of the Council chamber. A stir was flowing across the members, for it wasn't everyday that someone quit the council. In fact, no one had EVER quit the council! Yet that was just what Jack had done. Surprisingly, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his back as he strode out of the warren of political creatures. His only regret is that he had delivered it on a day when his former friend, Chairman Greg Betare was busy elsewhere in the system and couldn't attend the meeting. But Jack couldn't go through another session with those self-serving prigs. If they wanted to keep their heads in the sand about the realities of the galaxy, the let them. He just wanted to be there when it came back to bite em in their exposed posteriors. The Council could say what they wanted, he was going out to the 'provinces' as it were to find out for himself just what was going on. If the governing body wasn't going to take action, then someone had to. Jack made his way into the exterior lift shaft and entered the car alone. It was one of the express tubes that served the Council Chamber alone, and the cityscape outside the armored windows began to seemingly grow as the lift made a speedy drop down to ground level. Jack's private shuttle was already waiting for him at the bottom when he exited the lift car. After a quick yet thorough preflight, He activated the contra grav drive and slipped into the traffic grid on an exit vector out of the city.
- ICS Pearl Harbor, Terra Orbit, That same time -
"What we do here today shall be remembered for an eternity! Great songs shall be sung of this day! We shall all be welcomed into the Gates of Sto- Vo-Kor and take our place among the honored dead!" Korath spoke via the all ships com. "Victory shall be ours!!" Then he closed the channel. While the Klingon's in the crew found it inspiring as hell, the rest of the species didn't find it nearly so. They each had their own reasons for volunteering for this mission, and while they were unified in their fight against the Imperial oppression of their individual species, none had chosen to say what they were exactly. Out of simple courtesy, none of the others had asked them.The Breen bridge officer turned towards him and emitted a series of overlapping synthetic sounding beeps and boops.
"I don't care that you don't believe in my 'quaint barbaric traditions'. Once we succeed in our plan we shall all become true warriors."
"Speak for yourself Korath." Solak said from the helm station. "I am doing this to help my people. If my death makes it easier for them to live in peace without having to worry about the next slave labor quota the Terran's issue, I shall die a happy Romulan." The Klingon smiled at that.
"I don't care what your reasons are. We shall die like warriors and our names shall forever more be spoken with reverence. We shall be like the heroes of old, before our empires were crushed under the Terran's boot heel. And I shall meet all of you in Sto-Vo-Kor and say I told you so." He said with a tooth filled grin, but then he sobered. "But we are not yet finished. Is everything at readiness?"
"Yes sir." Came the reserved reply from the Cardassian who had become co tactical officer along with a giant, deep green skinned Gorn who also hissed his readiness.
"Ready sir." Came the snarling/bagpipe sound of the Lyran com officer. From across the bridge, a similar, yet different sound came from the Mirak officer, indicating her readiness as well. Once all stations had sounded off, Korath flipped up a hidden panel on his chair, revealing a red button labeled commit in Klingonese. Without further ado, he jabbed his finger down onto the button, sending the mechanical mechanism into its fully depressed position. A series of loud bangs and an explosion was heard and emergency alarms began to wail across the ship.