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First Impression, Chapter 14: Cloak and Dagger

A light on the tactical panel blinked insistently.

"Sir, there's ship on our port side."

Japel wished for the thousandth time that Vesta were there. He was confident in his own abilities but he felt the Andorian would be better at tactical analysis in this situation.

Probably why she's Chief of Security, he mused.

Sovak shot up from his seat—the only indication he had given over the past two hours that he was feeling as tense as the rest of the bridge crew.

"On screen."

The viewer snapped into life revealing the ships.

"What are they doing here?" Japel wondered aloud.

"Romulans?" Kincaide asked, huffing. "What would they be doing here?"

Taurik was trying to explain what he had deduced as they headed for the upper levels of the station. The Vulcan had effectively disabled the door locks as well as the neck devices on most of the aliens in the market, all of whom were now running free around them. The small group had to dodge and weave their way through the seething crowd. Staying together was proving a challenge, especially for the doctor in her cumbersome disguise.

"Yes. When I was not affected by the aural alarm I concluded that the only other species that would be immune to such an alarm was the Romulans. It fit with all our known information: the ship, the kidnappings, their reluctance to help with the investigation. I suspect," he ducked as a chair flew past his head, "that the Romulans have been using this station as a cover for a more sinister operation."

"Maybe," the Orion shrugged ungracefully.

"Oh come on. You don't think Par'at Nor is being used in some larger Romulan plot? Give me a break! Why would they be interested in slave markets if this place wasn't a front for something bigger?"

The three had reached a kind of détente—Bohemir was tending to Arima's wound as best he could while the Orion watched over them with the phase pistol.

"I think you might be surprised, Starfleet. The Romulans are very interested in the humanoid trade, but they only want certain people," Pevet explained. "They come in and pick them up, leave me to run my station. What do I care why they want them?"

"What can people like the Dukin possibly mean to the Romulans?"

"The who? I have never heard of these people. You are not seriously accusing us of being involved with this…bazaar, are you?" The Romulan captain, Nolus Tar, asked with incredulity and disdain. His face filled the viewer at the front of the Temura's bridge.

"I am, I assure you. We have found evidence linking Romulan technology to a ship involved in numerous kidnappings from Federation space, including Dukinar's pre-warp society."

The Romulan flexed a tiny muscle in his jaw. For a human it would have meant very little; Sovak took it as a wholesale confession. The Romulans hadn't known Dukinar was still technically pre-warp. It had been a screw-up. "I do not know what you are rambling about, Vulcan."

"Then why are you here?" Sovak asked innocently. "Have you lost your way and wandered into Federation territory?"

"We were here to do you a favor," the Tar spat. "We discovered peoples taken from Federation space and…like you, traced them to this station. We have come to investigate."

"Why did you not choose to offer this information when Captain Sovak requested it earlier?" Mirista stood from her position on Sovak's left and approached the viewer. "It would have made matters much easier."

"We are not obligated to you or your inept, cumbersome investigations. We wished to make our own inquiries. I can see now that our course of action was warranted—you accuse us with no proof whatsoever. It is not an incentive to assist you. Now—we would like to continue our mission. We will let you know what we uncover, I assure you."

"You will forgive me if your offer does not assuage my suspicions. We will remain." Sovak stood his ground easily.

"I would rather you did not," Tar almost smiled.

An alarm went off in Sovak's mind. A happy Romulan was never a good sign.

"Sir there's another Warbird decloaking," Japel called out from tactical.

"Leave now," Tar instructed before cutting the transmission. Sovak found himself staring at a field of stars, pondering his options.

Too bad backup won't be decloaking for us. Six of my crew on the station and we're outnumbered two to one.

"We're outnumbered two to one!" Garat growled as the ship rocked from another blast. The two ships had appeared only minutes after the group had departed the station. "Orion pigs! How did they find you so quickly?" he demanded. Jack and Una did not seem to be paying attention. "What are you doing!"

Jack said nothing but pointed to the device in his neck. He and Una made an odd pair at the moment: they were trying to focus only on non-critical areas of the ship and therefore looked for all world like two tourists studying the architecture of a particularly interesting structure.

Garat said something in Klingon that was not very nice.

"Can't you cloak the ship?" Jack asked.

"The cloaking generator is down," shouted one of Garat's bridge crew in Klingon. "Shields at 50."

"Why are they expending this much effort on a couple of escapees?" asked Una. The ship bucked again and she braced herself against a bulkhead. Her mind raced with possibilities. Had they found out she was Starfleet? Were her friends and shipmates okay? Had they been captured? Or worse?

Unbeknownst to her, Jack was thinking much the same thing.

"Rutil!" shouted Garat. A grizzled Klingon with an eyepatch and scraggly grey hair jumped to attention. "Remove their implants," he instructed.

Rutil headed across the bridge and clamped a hand on Una's arm. She winced in pain as he dragged her toward the back wall of the room. Jack followed, wrenching Una free from the Klingon.

"Watch it!" he instructed, pointedly ignoring Una's furious glare.

The Klingon shrugged and opened a panel set in the wall. There were a few medical instruments and bandages rolling about inside.

Una was appalled. "Tell me you're not going to—"

The Klingon pulled out a scanner and a pair of what looked like pliers.

"—oh you are," Una finished.

"Welcome to Klingon sickbay," Jack muttered.

Una barely had time to react as Rutil injected her with a hypospray and attached the pliers to her neck device. With surprising finesse he twisted it and pulled it out. Her hand flew up to where it had been but the Klingon batted it away, slapping a bandage in its place.

"That's it?" The ship was still rocking and she could hear Garat yelling orders to his men.

Rutil did not answer as he performed the same procedure on Jack.

"The implants are out—the sensors attached to your eyes and ears will have to be removed some other time. They are still there—just not transmitting," the Klingon told them. He turned abruptly and headed back to his station on the bridge.

"Aft shields at 30," a crewman was saying, "but we have taken out propulsion on one of the Orion ships!"

Garat bellowed a harsh laugh. "Aha! Bring us about! Target their reactor!"

They were hit again and a control panel along the back wall blew up in a shower of sparks. Una pulled Jack away from the fire and back into the main bridge area. Free from Big Brother, she was finally able to assess their situation.

"Jack," Garat yelled, "fix the cloaking generator! They're trying to herd us back toward Par'at Nor."

Where no doubt a welcoming party will be waiting, Jack thought. He nodded and left for the engineering compartment. Una followed and was promptly thrown into him when the ship pitched heavily to starboard.