Chapter III: The Colonial Terran Authority
Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:21, Bridge of USS Pioneer
"Status," Nevala ordered stepping off the turbolift. Commander Shenar turned to face her.
"The warbirds are holding their position. We've turned about on yellow alert. I feel that I should mention that our Currys have taken up excellent bombardment positions above the warbirds' cone of fire."
"We are here to apprehend Kale, Commander, not start another interstellar incident. Lower shields and invite the Romulan captain aboard for a full explanation. With my best wishes, of course."
"Right away, ma'am," Shenar said. "Mr. Hoffman, you have an invitation to send."
Hoffman traded looks with his fellow bridge crew, but sent the message anyway. Moments later, an infuriated-looking Romulan captain appeared on the viewscreen. He said he was Captain Pa'tel, the commander of the IRW P'Tarma, and that the Federation risked incurring his full wrath by insulting him with false explanations after obliterating a Starbase and all its ships, and once more demanded that they surrender.
"Captain Pa'tel, this is Captain Nevala of the USS Pioneer. Please consider the situation. How could one light cruiser and two escorts overpower the mighty Romulan Star Empire's ship garrison and her starbase, all without incurring any damage?" He didn't respond. "Captain?"
"It is...extremely unlikely," Pa'tel grudgingly admitted.
"Indeed, it is. However, to understand the whole, 'situation', you must come aboard the Pioneer. There is someone I think you will find of interest. You may bring a complement of guards if it would put you at ease."
"You can rest assured I will. Pa'tel out."
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Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:32, Transporter Room 2
Nevala waited for Pa'tel and his entourage to beam aboard. In true paranoid Romulan style, two armed Reman soldiers were the first ones to be transported to the Pioneer. Glancing around the at the four crew members present, (Capt. Nevala, Crewman Capella, and two transporter techs), the Remans seemed to be satisfied that they were unarmed. One of them snarled into his communicator, and stepped off the transporter pad.
Pa'tel, flanked by four Romulan soldiers, made his appearance on the Federation ship. He was a slightly overweight being, with trademark black Romulan hair, and the beginnings of a beard. He scowled at Nevala as he and his entourage moved forward.
"Well, Captain," he said, spreading his arms. "Here we are. Now maybe you'd like to tell me who exactly destroyed our base so I can report to my superiors."
"Of course. Follow me."
Nevala led the Romulans through the winding hallways of the Pioneer. She was careful to use slow, precise movements so as to not give the Romulans a reason to think she was armed. Nevala hoped that the Doctor had something more conclusive for the other Captain, but if he didn't, then hopefully his scans would be enough to convince Pa'tel.
"This is our Sickbay, where we are keeping the corpse of a member of the boarding party that attacked the R-827." When Pa'tel saw the him, he cursed loudly in Romulan. "I like to think of him as the Juggernaut."
"That would be apt, Captain. Uh, we believe that this man and at least three others like him slaughtered your crew. They were wearing an extremely energy-resistant armor. Only combined fire on the part of our SAR team managed to bring this fellow down. Even still, the Juggernaut by himself killed two of them, and one of our crewman is going to need a prosthetic arm. We'd be willing to share any tactical data we've recovered. Also, let me express how sorry I am for the losses you've taken."
"Yes," Pa'tel said, shaken. "And thank you for trying to find survivors."
"Captain, I've analyzed the optical device over his eye. It contains some very advanced identification software, as well as multiple vision modes, and what appears to be a connection to his gun. I sent that down to Lt. Evens, our tactics officer, to confirm that theory."
"I'm willing to pardon your intrusion into the Neutral Zone based on your actions against these aggressors. But I am going to need answers, Nevala."
"Such as?" she asked.
"This is a long way from Federation territory. What are you doing here?"
Nevala saw no logic in lying to Pa'tel. "The Pioneer group is here to apprehend a fugitive who stole an Akira-class cruiser. He was last in the Delta Serpentis system."
Recognition flashed across Pa'tel's eyes. "Kale!" he hissed.
"You know him?" Nevala asked, surprised.
"I know of him. About three weeks ago, a bandit calling himself Kale began striking our outposts and convoys, raiding them for supplies. Seven Norexan ships were destroyed and one D'deridex warbird was damaged, in all. Now we can add this to Kale's long list of transgressions against the Romulan people. Captain, on behalf of the Romulan Star Empire, I extend myself and my ships to you to track down this butcher."
"Before you start swearing allegiances, I suggest you look at what this man was carrying."
"Kenneth Price," Connors said.
"What?"
"His name is Private First Class Kenneth Price, serial number 00 0658 003, blood type AB."
"How do you know that, doctor?"
Connors held up two rectangular pieces of metal. "Identification tags, similar to the old Earth military."
"Thank you. That, however, poses more questions that I would like answered," Nevala said. She activated the sickbay's viewer, summoning up an image of Lt. Evens and his lone crewman, who was stuck holding the monstrosity that she had deposited earlier.
"Got company, I see. Okay, well good. Captain I was just about to contact you. What you see before you is a precision instrument of death, a weapon that until now, has been limited to science fiction writing."
"Get on with it, el-tee! This beast is heavy," the crewman whined.
Evens rolled his eyes. "It's a gauss rifle ma'am. Magnetic weapons! This has never even been attempted before." Evens barely contained the excitement in his voice. Nevala didn't pepper the man with questions, as he was sure to answer all the ones formulating in her mind with his explanation. "It uses a series of powerful electro-magnets contained in a sheath of some shielded material, to accelerate a 12-millimeter projectile in excess of 6200 feet per second. I tell ya, Captain, this thing could tear a bulkhead in two, and you wouldn't hear nothing but the sound of the rounds impacting on it. I'm working on developing a countermeasure for it, but it'll be rough."
"I did find some flaws with it though. See, there's a tiny computer/camera slung under the primary barrel that relays a crosshair to the non-EM shielded monocular. Without it, it'd be very difficult to aim this puppy. Also, as you can tell, the large amount of ammunition needed, and the power supply, and the accelerator tube take up so much space, it has to be strapped to the forearm to use. Very awkward in a confined space, and limits the field of fire. It's scary, but not in undefeatable. I could cook up some electromagnetic pulse grenades that'd take out the targeting system."
"I would like those available for our next encounter."
"I'll hop right to it, Captain. Evens out."
"And I will be returning to my ship, Capt. Nevala, if that is alright with you. Notify when you are ready to finally track that worthless pirate Kale down." He nodded in salute. The sickbay was filled with dull green columns of light, then Pa'tel and his men disappeared. With a parting look at Kenneth Price, Nevala made for the bridge to relieve her first officer, stuck there since their breaching of the Neutral zone.
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Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:50
Shenar was glad to be replaced by the Captain, Nevala sensed, although he seemed loathe to admit it. The Andorian First Officer had reluctantly gone back to his quarters, leaving Nevala with the almost exhausted 1st Shift. Since life on a starship didn't include a change in lighting to go with the sun, it felt like perpetual early morning/afternoon. The blackness of space also made to help blur time for non-Vulcans. She almost chided them for the sleep in their eyes, but then remembered that the Pioneer bridge crew had been on-duty for over ten hours.
"Captain," Lt. Chen said quizzically. "There's a shuttle leaving the R-827. Look's like you were right about there being more than one."
"Hail coming through, audio only," Hoffman announced.
"This is Corporal Kruger. You are holding one of my men, PFC Price hostage. He will be released. Now."
"This is Captain Nevala, Federation Starfleet. Private Price is dead. As are three of my crew," Nevala said, keeping her voice even.
"Vulcan," Kruger spat. He must have been very well trained if he could pick her species out from her name. "You will return Price's body to us."
"Is this guy nuts or what?" Chen said, laughing. "We only have him out gunned 600-to-1."
The viewscreen sprang to life, revealing an un-helmeted Kruger. Like Price, he wore his hair shaved on the sides and a buzzed stubble on top. Also like Price, he was simply massive in terms of sheer muscle. The look on his face as he scanned around the bridge, spying Nevala, seemed to radiate hatred.
"You have six minutes to comply, Vulcan."
"My name is Nevala. And you are in no position to be demanding anything. Surrender and tell us where Kale is. You will not be harmed, I can assure you
"The CTA does not negociate with murderers!" Kruger shouted.
"That is an ironic word choice coming from you, when the organization you claim to be with destroyed an entire Starbase. This is your last chance to surrender."
Kruger smiled, and the bridge crew unanimously felt unnerved by that. "Funny. I was about to offer you the same choice. Continue on this path, Vulcan, and you'll be in so deep over those pointy ears of yours that not all the ships in the Federation can save you. Private! Cut the channel and jump out."
"They're powering up their warp drive. Should we follow, ma'am?"
"No. They are just trying to divert our attention away. Have the Spirt and the Trailblazer, and three of the Romulan warbirds follow it. Lay in a course for Iconia, maximum warp. Mr. Hoffman, contact Capt. Pa'tel, and inform him of our true destination. Please try to keep us on the outside of the system, Lt. Chen; We don't want to inform Kale of our presence."
"Aye, ma'am. Setting course for Iconia."
Pa'tel clenched his teeth when Nevala delivered her plan to him, as he had wanted to help vaporize the men responsible for the deaths of those 1000+ Romulans. However, the tactical side of the captain made him see that it was indeed a diversion to draw away the joint force.
Nevala sat in her command chair and watched as the stars seemed to stretch and elongate as the Pioneer slipped into warp. With just over twenty minutes until the ships reached the Iconian Sector, the two starship captains discussed their plan to capture Kale.
It would be simple, at least in theory. Blending elements of her original plan, Nevala and her team of infiltrators would transport over to the P'Tarma and fly under cloak until they reached the USS Remembrance/CTD Maverick. Then, using a low-profile recon shuttle, they would get close enough and implement the original capture that Nevala had devised.
That left the question of who to pick for this mission. Crewman Capella sprung to mind. Seeing how well he had handled himself on the R-827, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to go undercover. She had heard from passing conversations that he was able to do accurate vocal imitations. Also, he was trained in subterfuge. Nevala scanned her PADD for more similarly qualified personnel. She would need mostly females to gain the trust of her male quarry.
Ensign Jayne Fitzpatrick, Pioneer's third-shift navigator, had several years of training at the Titan School of the Preforming Arts before entering Starfleet Academy. She had also been the star of several holo-plays before Nevala had received command of the ship. That experience in adopting alternate personas would be invaluable.
Crewman Cassandra Vette was the only other female crew member who was attractive enough and could deceive convincingly based on past training. At that, it was somewhat negative; Vette had been in the Maquis during the Dominion War, and infiltrated several Federation bases to obtain weapons for the illegal group. If she could do that...
"Captain Nevala, there's something that's been bothering me all day," Lt. Chen said from the helm.
"What, Lieutenant?"
"Well, it's just that, those armored soldiers on the station, their weapons, the ship-based platforms that destroyed all those Romulan ships..."
"Go on, spit it out Wu," Hoffman said.
"They had to get those weapons and armor from somewhere, and an Akira simply doesn't have a replicator big enough to make them. Even piecemeal. And since the Remembrance was seemingly refitted, they'd need a station to do it. Where did a rogue officer get a drydock?"
Nevala didn't have an answer for him. A crewman who was preforming maintenance on the starboard turbolift controls had a slightly chilling answer that immediately made Chen regret his question.
"Maybe he built it."
If Kale had gone planet side, and built himself as the ruler of a colony, then this would make the Federation's retrieval mission exponentially more difficult. He would have fortified his position heavily, and it would be messy to get him out. This mission so far had been nothing but a series of complications.
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Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 07:16 Earth Time, far away from Iconia
It was far worse then the crew had imagined. The initial sensor readings taken of the planet had shown a mass of stations orbiting it, though the exact number was yet to be determined. Even more unsettling was the presence of a small fleet of ships; old New Orleans-class cruisers from the early 2340s, a number of Miranda-class ("Mirandas!" Mattis had exclaimed. "Those haven't been in service in almost a hundred years!") and at least three Intrepid-class light cruisers.
"This is going to make things a sight more difficult," the turbolift tech said, packing up his tools. "Best of luck to you, Captain.
"Lots of broadcasts coming from the nightside of Iconia, Captain," Hoffman said. "Sounds like news and stuff."
"Put in on, Lt. Hoffman." The planet-filled viewscreen cut to a woman and man, both in formal clothes, smiling at the camera.
"–And I'm Janice Byrons. Welcome back. In our top story tonight, the CTA Ministry of Defense has announced that a Romulan base close to our boarders was neutralized earlier today by the crew and Marines of the CTD Maverick. Our forces suffered minimum casualties during the battle while annihilating the Romulan defenders. Funeral services for Petty Officer 2nd Class Stewart Gibney and Crewman 3rd Class Annette Collins will be held tomorrow at midday. Also among the casualties was Private First Class Kenneth Price, who was killed by a Federation-led strike team. This weighs against 1102 enemy soldiers KIA, and fourteen Federation Starfleet crewmen. Though the loss of Terran life on both sides is regrettable, several more working cloaking devices were recovered as well as additional necessary construction materials for the Navy. Now over Jim with the sports."
"Thanks Janice! The Zoneball Championship games are heating up, with the Icon Ravens taking an early lead today over the Kale County Vigilantes. I'm sure Magistrate Kale wasn't too happy about that! The Vigilantes lost their starting center for the rest of the Championship and possible next season due to a broken jaw and several ripped tendon. This puts their entry in the Final Four in doubt, as well as potentially jeopardizing their stranglehold over the Western League."
"Sounds like someone's got a case of the Tholians," Janice Byrons said, and although the meaning was lost on the Federation crew watching the event, both newscasters chuckled at the remark.
"Ah, that was a good one," Janice said, shaking her head. "This has been the Evening Report, only on the Icon Broadcasting Channel. Once again, I'm Janice Byrons, and for everyone here at IBC News, good night."
"The whole planet must be completely looney," Lt. Evens said from the Tactics station, having finished his examination of the weapon. "A madman founded a society full of people as nuts as he is."
"And we will have to retrieve him from there," Nevala said as a recruiting ad started, showing a group of armored men, similar to the forces that had been at the R-827, but normal sized, standing shoulder to shoulder in a troop bay of some sort, the only light provided by a single red bulb.
"There comes a time in every human's life when he asks himself, 'Do I have what it takes?'" The bay was suddenly filled with bright light and the camera panned to an open door overlooking a small planet. Two at a time, the troops jumped out into the pull of the atmosphere. The camera followed one of the men, and his face morphed to that of a young man standing outside a building with 'Recruiting Center' on a sign above it.
"Well? Do you?"
The final few seconds of footage cut to the same young man, only this time in an all black uniform saluting a flag. It faded out to the words 'Semper Invictus' and the narration. "The Colonial Marines only accept the best. Take your place among the greatest warriors in this or any other star system today."
"Lt. Hoffman, inform the P'Tarma that I will be arriving by shuttlepod shortly. I believe we need beam down to the planet and further observe. Also, have these crewmen report to the Shuttlebay 1." Nevala handed her PADD to the comm officer and left the bridge with Lt. Cmdr. Suarez in charge.
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[Surface, Unknown City. 07:39
Her father, being half-human, had told little Nevala the best way find something out was to go and take a look for yourself. And the best way to do that here was to infiltrate the city and find Kale's whereabouts from the inhabitants. Nevala's capture team wore clothes that had been replicated based on transmissions from the television channels, and the only equipment they carried were the emergency transporter armbands, and a comm-badge.
It was black where they materialized, in an uninhabited ally between buildings. The only light was coming from street lamps that looked out of place in the small, developing city. The streets from what Nevala could see were deserted.
"Is everyone alright?"
"Yes ma'am, looks like we're all here in one piece," Capella answered.
"And just what in the hell are YOU doing here?" a voice from behind them demanded to know. All four of them whipped around to face one of armored soldiers. This one, too, was normal sized, and instead of a gauss rifle and helmet, he was wearing a patrol cap and had a pistol of some sort strapped to his leg. It wasn't drawn, but one hand rested on the grip of the sidearm.
"Well?" he said when nobody responded. "It's after curfew. Why are y'all out so late?"
Nevala fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. At least he hadn't seen them beaming down. But now she had to find a reasonable excuse for this overly built soldier, a product of a society that had thus far shown every inclination of shooting first and never asking questions. Fortunately, Capella was able to jump in.
"We're uh, from Kale County," he said. Capella gave a truly winning smile. "Here to see, the uh, Vigilantes play. Even if they are having a case of the Tholians."
The soldier glared at him, then cracked a smile. "Oh sure! Yah, I got a brother that plays for the team. Third-string left side. Maybe you know him, Vic Swanson?"
"Third-string left side. That's...nice," Capella said.
"Well, yah, he ain't been playing much this season. Adams and Metzger have been pretty dominating. You sure picked a bad time to travel, hey. Kale County's too far away to start here late. Anyway. Got a place to stay?"
"No, actually," Nevala said.
"Right then. I'll escort you to the nearest hotel. Don't wanna have to go thorough this process again, know what I mean?"
"Thank-you."
"Don't think you'll get a room though," Swanson said, leading Nevala, Capella, Fitzpatrick and Vette through the streets. "It's pretty booked here, what with the games and all."
Almost all the rooms of the Rebel Inn were taken, as the soldier had suggested, but the owner said he'd be more than happy to accommodate a few more Vigilantes fans. Capella thanked Swanson for bringing them to the hotel, and retrieved a small plastic card which must have functioned as a key.
"...doesn't seem to be such a bad place," Capella was saying as he lugged the sole travel case containing spare clothes, comm-badges, and their ETBs.
"Yeah," Fitzpatrick retorted. "Except that they don't seem to have any problem with massacring a starbase to acquire some equipment."
"That's true." Capella slid the keycard into the lock of room number 5-K. It was small, and only had one bed and a couch, but it was immaculately clean. Fitzpatrick flopped down on the bed. "Just so everybody knows, Ensign Fitzpatrick and I are married, and you and the Captain are my sisters. Don't give me any looks, it was the only way I could explain why I was with three other women."
"You are proving yourself a valuable asset to this mission, crewman," Nevala said. She handed out PADDs to everyone, explaining them as their targets. "We shall begin our reconnaissance tomorrow."
"I think I'll start by checking out that Zoneball, or whatever it is," Capella said.
"Uh-huh," Vette said sarcastically. It was well known amongst the crew that Greg Capella was a sports enthusiast.
"Hey! Sometimes the best way to get inside somebody's head is to see what kind of sport they play."
"Keep telling yourself that, Capella."
"Who sleeps where?" Fitzpatrick asked, bringing a halt to his defense of sports and red to Capella's face.
"I will take the floor. You ladies can split the couch and the bed."
"Oh come now, Capella! It simply wouldn't right if room service came in and the loyal husband wasn't beside his wife, now would it?"
Capella shot Vette a wicked look. "It wouldn't be proper. I'd feel uncomfortable sharing the same bed as one of my superiors."
Lt. Fitzpatrick laughed. "Come on, Crewman. I'll sleep on the edge if it will make you feel better." Reluctantly, Capella stripped his shirt off and slid under the covers.
"Well I guess that just leaves you and me, Captain," Vette started, but Nevala had already fallen asleep on the couch. Capella snorted in laughter, then turned the room's lights off, leaving Cassandra Vette to try and find a semi-soft spot on the floor.
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Stardate 59347.93 [28 September, 2381. 17:01 Earth Time/08:53 Local
Nevala was awoken by the insistent pushing of Ensign Fitzpatrick at her shoulder. She was trying to keep her voice calm and level, but it was layered with urgency.
"Captain, for God's sake, get up!"
"What is it, Ensign?"
Fitzpatrick pointed at the wall mounted television. Apparently, Capella had been trying to find the game's starting time on the news. Nevala cleared the sleep from her eyes as they focused on a picture of a face that had been etched into her memory: Thomas J. Kale. He looked the same as in the picture from the launch of the Undaunted, a little older maybe, but he was wearing a black uniform with red trim. There was a massive crowd surrounding the platform he was standing on.
"Citizens of the Colonial Terran Authority," Kale began. His voice was quivering with rage. "Only hours ago, a patrol discovered and was attacked by a Romulan-Federation strike force inbound to remove us from our new home. Once again, we were forced by the Romulans to spill human blood in the name of preserving our independence."
"We have tried everything to avoid conflict with the Romulans. They pushed into our space, and we gave it to them. They confined us to this planet, and we obeyed! They attacked us, and we did not RETALIATE!"
"No more, I tell you! No more will we be ground under the oppressive heel of the Federation. No more will we live in fear of Romulan attacks! No more will we sit on our asses while aliens tell us what to do and how to do it! I have ordered the orbital shipyards to begin producing at full strength. The Terran race as been subjected to many cowardly and unwarranted attacks since its first steps into space. Even when we try to mind our own business, here, on Iconia, the Federation and its allies come to oppress us! And I will no longer let that HAPPEN! If the galaxy wants a war, we'll give them a war, the likes of which they've never seen!"
Nevala thought the crowd was going to rush the stage and unseat Kale from the throne of his faux-dictatorship, but a massive cheer surged through the crowd, and through the hotel. Everywhere around them, and from the television speakers, people chanted 'hail Kale!' and screamed for blood.
"They destroyed the Spirt. And the Trailblazer," Capella said, shoulders sagging. "We're done. Trapped on a planet ruled by someone who's like some hellish blend of Paxton (note: Enterprise, Terra Prime arc) and Hitler.
"That doesn't mean they got the Pioneer, Capella. Or the P'Tarma." Vette patted him on the shoulder.
"But it does mean we have to work twice as hard to bring Kale to justice, Crewman Vette. Kale seems bent on starting a war with the Romulan Empire and the Federation...and he has the means to do it. We must stop him before he does."
A/N: So I hope y'all are liking this so far. Though the lack of reveiews contradicts that...come on! just tap that little blue button if ya read it.