Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters and situations are the property of CBS studios. Star Trek Online is the creation of Cryptic and Perfect World. Tomb Raider and the situations therein are the property of Square Enix. All are here used by myself for entertainment purposes only, without permission or intent to profit. Stardates were calculated with the help of the TNG Stardate Calculator available on TrekGuide .com and may be slightly out of sync with those used in the game's lore.
Bird of Prey
OSS Cluros, Matron Atria D'blae's report, Year of Kahless 1032, Day 320, 07:45 Klingon Imperial Time:
This mission has proved much more interesting than I anticipated.
Our initial reconnaissance of the Dragon's Head Nebula revealed not only a Starfleet presence, but also the fact that they were dealing with a group of hostile natives with a singularly powerful piece of technology: a working polaric ion energy weapon.
Since that discovery, I've made procuring that weapon our top priority. Our first step will be to abduct the surviving Starfleet officers and find out what they know. We've entered the nebula and plotted a course for the unnamed M-Class planet where the Federation shuttle went down. If all goes well, we'll live like kings and I might even become the new Emerald Empress.
Of course, things might not go well. The Cluros is one of oldest Birds-of-Prey still in use, and the antiproton leak in its cloaking device is cause for...concern.
Atria D'blae sashayed onto the bridge of the OSS Cluros just as the old bird-of-prey settled into orbit. She smiled and congratulated herself on her impeccable sense of timing. On the viewscreen she could see the turquoise sphere of the nameless M-class world spinning slowly beneath them, set against the backdrop of the nebula's aquamarine clouds. They were just crossing over the terminator into this world's night. Atria slinked up behind the commander's chair and caressed Ursan's shoulder. "Have we found the Starfleet officers yet, love?" she asked.
"I believe we have," said the big Orion.
"Wonderful," Atria cooed. She felt Ursan straighten, fairly preening himself for pleasing her, and she smiled. He was really such a dear sometimes.
Then the Nausicaan, Gravazk, just had to go and ruin her moment. "We still don't know where they are," he pointed out. "All we really have is Huraash's...hunch."
"Visual scans have revealed fires and explosions at one of the compounds on the main island," Huraash explained. "There's definitely a fight going on down there. Who else but Starfleet could be giving the natives so much trouble?"
"Who else indeed?" said Atria, nodding her agreement. "Why don't we go down for a closer look?"
Ursan nodded. "Helm, take us down. Reconfigure for atmospheric flight."
"Yes, Commander," said Rykar. He turned and typed a series of commands into the helm. The image on the viewscreen dipped toward the planet, which grew larger and larger in front of them.
Atria felt a quiver in her stomach as excitement mixed with apprehension. They had no idea what they'd be facing down there on the planet. All they knew was that whoever these natives were they possessed a polaric ion energy weapon capable of shooting down a modern shuttle in four hits. That wasn't terrifically powerful, for a modern anti-ship weapon, but that the natives had harnessed polaric ion energy at all was a significant step forward - one which the Orion Syndicate in general and Atria in specific had to have for themselves at all costs. They also knew that Starfleet - though evidently suffering major setbacks - was a step ahead of them in the quest for taking control of this polaric energy technology. Capturing whatever personnel they still had on the planet would serve the dual purpose of derailing their enemies plans and informing their own...but it had to be done carefully. Whatever weapon the natives had down there was certainly not to be trifled with.
She ran her hand across Ursan's shoulders. "Dear, do you know how Rgsar is doing with the cloaking device?" she asked casually.
"I'm not sure," Ursan murmured. "He has not reported in since we entered the nebula and his staff indicated that he...did not wish to be disturbed."
It was a personal feat of cluros that Atria managed to continue smiling. Internally, she cringed. Whatever else the Gorn chief engineer was, he was dependable to the point of being pedantic. He filed regular, hourly reports with the bridge whenever he was on duty. There were only two instances Atria had even heard of where he had failed to file his progress reports: when he was seriously injured, and when he was in the mood to seriously injure someone else. His staff's insistence that he be left alone indicated the latter - and that made Atria wonder just how bad the antiproton leak had become. "The cloak is...stable, though, isn't it?" she asked.
Gravazk chuckled. "Well, we are cloaked, and I don't think we're likely to explode, if that's what the lady wants to know." Atria glared at him.
"I'm picking up the antiprotons on my own sensors," said Huraash. "I don't think it's gotten much worse. It'll alert anyone down there to our presence, but it won't give them enough information for a firing solution."
"Still, it seems we'll need to act cautiously," said Atria. "May I suggest we decloak, emit the subspace differential pulse, beam up our prisoners, and recloak again as quickly as possible." It was more than a suggestion, of course, but months of exposure to her pheromones meant that the only crew members who wouldn't eagerly comply with her suggestions were the non-Orions like Rsgar and Gravazk - and they were effectively out-ranked and out-voted.
That didn't mean they would stay quiet though, as the Nausicaan again decided to prove. "What if the natives interfere?"
"If it's with the polaric energy weapon, we cloak," said Ursan. "I'm sure we can fight it, but we don't want to damage it. If it's with anything more conventional...well, in that case we give them trouble back!"
Atria smiled. "My thoughts exactly."
Solarii Field Notes, Main Island: Father Matan's Record: Tuesday, May 29, 2407, evening, 8 o'clock:
This Trill girl, this Outsider, has caused me too much trouble. She's cost me Vamdar, the Communications Base, and now she's destroyed the Palace in her attempts to pry the Chosen One from me. She cannot be allowed to succeed. I must stop her at all costs.
The Sun Queen's will cannot be foiled, She will have the Chosen One...and I must make sure that I am the one to deliver her to the Sun Queen. Only then will my years of work be rewarded.
Matan shielded his face and took a step back as the ceiling collapsed in the center of the throne room. When he looked again, the Chosen One and the Outsider were nowhere to be seen. A large pile of debris completely cut off any access to the other side of the room, where they had been.
As the dust cleared, one of the Brothers, a Nausicaan whose name did not truly matter to Matan, grabbed Doctor Mor by the ear and pressed a hand-phaser to his head. "I say we kill this little rat for helping those two escape!" he said.
The Ferengi screamed and shrank back as much as possible. "Please! I was only trying to keep up appearances! You know, if you need someone to talk with them...they, they trust me. Please!"
Matan swatted the Nausicaan's weapon away. "Let him go," he ordered, and the Solarii complied. Matan personally did not believe a word of the Ferengi's story. He recognized that the Doctor was no more loyal to the Solarii than he was to his own shipmates: his only real loyalty was to himself. But rather than simply despising the man for his failure to recognize something larger than himself, Matan understood him. He had been so small-minded himself once, before She found him...and he knew that such simple motives could be easily, and usefully, manipulated. In fact, in many ways he expected the Doctor to prove more useful than most of the Brothers Matan had recruited into the Solarii over the years, now that the Time had come.
But Matan could not allow himself to become distracted by such evaluations now. "The Chosen One has escaped! Out into the courtyard, now!" he ordered. The Brothers turned around and started back down the hallway, the way they'd come, but a sudden explosion cut them off, engulfing the end of the hallway in flames, trapping them. Matan gritted his teeth in frustration, but not helplessness. He pulled his communicator from his robes. "Transporter room, lock on to my signal," he ordered. "Eight to beam up!"
Green energy swirled around Matan and his men, including Doctor Mor, and they vanished from the Palace hallway, rematerializing in the dimly-lit transporter room of the grounded warbird. Matan pushed past the rest of his men and out into the corridors. He moved quickly to through the shattered bowels of the ship to the bridge. "Report!" he ordered the Ferasin at the communications console, Brother M'Roul. "Where are the Outsider and the Chosen One?"
"I believe they are still in the Palace, Father, but it's hard to say," said M'Roul, a clawed finger scrolling through fragmentary reports. "Brother Nikora reported engaging the Outsider near the main building, but that was more than ten minutes ago. None of the other Solarii are giving me anything but beam-out requests and panic. It's chaos in there!"
Matan frowned. That chaos would give the Outsider and the Chosen One the perfect opportunity to escape, and they would no doubt take it. The question was how would they escape, and how could he stop them. His eyes narrowed as an idea occurred to him. "The Outsiders used theta-band pulses to locate their comrades earlier today. We shall do the same," Matan said. "Emit a series of pulses through the communications array and scan for echoes."
The Yridian at the ops station, Brother Yadock, tapped a series of commands into his panel. "Emitting pulses," he said in his usual nasal whine.
"Scanning," said M'Roul. A moment later, his console rattled in an approximation of an affirmative tone. "I have two groups of signals," he said. "One on the ridge just west of the City and the other on the Bridge, leaving the Palace right now."
"Activate the viewscreen and center on the Bridge," Matan ordered. "Overlay the sensor data, quickly!"
The viewscreen flickered to life, showing the arch of the bridge. Firelight illuminated the dark shapes of men running back and forrth in panic. Green symbols highlighted two of the figures running away from the Palace. The one in the back was wearing white. It's the Outsider and the Chosen One! They cannot escape! Matan clenched his fist around his staff and moved around the hole in the center of the deck to the tactical station. "Power the forward disruptor bank," he ordered. "Transfer it to manual control!"
The Ferasin's eyes went wide. "You're going to fire on them? Father, even if you don't hit the Chosen One, the Bridge is swarming with Solarii. You'll kill our own people!"
"Their sacrifices will be remembered when we are all free!" said Matan.
M'Roul bared his teeth. "You're insane!"
Matan drew his phaser from his sash and shot the Ferasin in the head in one smooth, lightning-fast motion. As the corpse fell, he looked around the bridge. "Are there any other non-believers?" he challenged.
Brother Yadock shook his head vigorously. "Firing control on manual, Father. The, uh, disruptor bank is charged to maximum, but that's - that's only eleven percent, Father. The gas conduits can't give it any more."
"It will have to do," said Matan. He tucked away his phaser and gripped the manual trigger, aiming for the Bridge, just ahead of the lead highlighted figure, who must be the Outsider. He fired.
Green bolts of energy lanced out and vaporized the central section of the bridge. Adjacent sections started to collapse. Matan watched impassively as Solarii fell or leaped to their deaths, some wounded, others burning. The Chosen One and the Outsider were still alive, and now they were trapped on the east side of the Bridge, separated from their allies. In the end, that was all that mattered. Matan smiled coldly and turned to the Yridian. "Contact the transporter room. Tell them to-" he began, but Yadock interrupted, pointing fearfully at the viewscreen.
"F-Father, look!"
Matan turned just in time to see a D-12 class Klingon bird-of-prey decloak over the burning bridge. A blue pulse of light flashed out from it, covering everything. Then, the Chosen One and the Outsider vanished in the red sparks of a Klingon transporter beam.
He reacted quickly, firing on the bird-of-prey, targeting their engines. He was lucky, and they hadn't yet raised their shields from cloak, but it made no difference. The angle of the shot was bad and the old warbird's weapons were at minimal power. The blast managed only to scorch a black mark on the armored outer hull of the Klingon ship, and to insight its captain's wrath.
Matan clenched his teeth. He knew the Sun Queen would stop them. Already, he could see flashes of Her lightning in the clouds above the Klingon ship. But he also knew She would not protect him, and he could also see the telltale glow of the bird-of-prey's disruptors charging.
"Get the transporter room, now!" Matan ordered. "Tell them to initiate an emergency beam-out, starting here, with the bridge!" I will not die on this planet! he swore once again. I will find a way off. I will recover the Chosen One and release the Sun Queen!
Then, the bird-of-prey opened fire.
Author's Note: The Cluros is back!
The presence of a Klingon bird-of-prey manned (mostly) by Orions, is, of course, not in the Tomb Raider game, but it's not as far from the original plot as it might appear at first. In the game, a helicopter rescues Lara despite her objections that this is a bad plan. She has little choice in the matter because the whole Solarii city seems to be exploding around her, due in part to Father Matthias's decision to employ artillery against her (he gets exactly the same reaction from the Solarii as Matan, and deals with the dissent in exactly the same way). Since I wasn't satisfied with having a few gas explosions and a little friendly fire cause the level of damage to the Solarii I wanted, I decided to raise the stakes by having the Cluros strafe the area. Convincing them to do so wasn't all that difficult once Matan turned his artillery on them in desperation.
I love it when a plan comes together...