It Begins (Part VI of VII)
Posted on Sun Feb 21, 2021 @ 11:05pm by Captain Maritza Soran & Commander Caleb Ryan & Lieutenant Kivan Ta'Gas & Lieutenant Annora Tessaro & Civilian 'Arrival' Geral Lasuma & Qinee & Miral Annhwi & Civilian Hydel Turvan
2,223 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Si vis pacem, para bellum
Location: Pangaea, DS5
Timeline: MD 04 0430
Previously in It Begins
“Sitrep!” Caleb barked as he charged out of the turbolift and into the Operations Center, his eyes already going to the large view screen and assessing the Cardassian fleet out there. “Son of a bitch!” Caleb muttered. “Scramble fighters,” he ordered. “Ready weapons.” He did the mental calculations on the numbers of ships out there. “Can anyone get through ta Starfleet?” he asked. “Send out an all frequency request for assistance from any ships in the area. Civilian channels, too. Let’s hope somethin’ gets out.”
The duty science officer turned to him. "Ten Cardassian ships came out of warp a few minutes ago, weapons charged. We've lost internal and external comms. Shields are at full power, and the holographic defense platforms are ready for deployments. Phaser batteries are fully primed, and upper and mid torpedo batteries are showing ready." She paused. "Captain hasn't responded, Ensign Guurg has gone to her quarters."
Caleb sipped his coffee, staring at the screen. “Hail them. Let’s see if we can’t talk them down, or at least stall for time until we get a message out. And activate the station distress beacon. That’s a different system from comms, and hopefully someone will hear it and investigate.”
And now the continuation
Guurg got down to Deck 24 in record time and ran to the captain’s quarters. Frantically pressing the chime, and banging on the door, raised no answer. Though he'd be surprised she could hear him over the red alert. There was no way she could be sleeping through it.
He tripped the manual release to the door, willing to risk and reprimand under the circumstances. But it was clear the captain wasn't in her rooms. He cast around briefly. Her pips and comm badge were scattered on the bar in the kitchen area, her uniform left carelessly on the floor. He swore at the gold pin. Where would she be?
(Deck 360)
Tucked back in a rarely used hallway, Petty Officer Tihr and the rest of SRU 3 sat in the abandoned storage area turned staging area. The front half was split between a lounge setting and a locker room. The back half contained a small gym with sonic showers and restroom facilities. So far the evening had been quiet, but the team was on standby should any emergencies crop up. When the alert klaxons rang out, the team moved with a sense of urgency.
"The bike's all yours, Allison," Tihr informed Crewman Pitt as he finished wiping down the piece of exercise equipment.
"Thanks. What was--"
The rest of her question was cut off by the sounding of a red alert. All members stopped their other activities and headed straight for the locker room to gear up. The first item donned was the black tactical vest, providing some protection against both bladed and energy weapons. Next was the equipment belt and the various items that it contained; a stun baton, hand phaser, tricorder, two stun grenades, extra power cells, some flex-cuffs, and a canteen. After a quick buddy check, the team of five headed out and into the corridor.
“Team three to security control.” Getting no response, Tihr tried to raise Ops with the same lack of results. With comms down, they headed towards the main docking bay until conflicting orders arrived.
(Crew Quarters)
A life in various security positions meant Annora fell asleep quickly while also being attuned to things like a red alert. She was awake almost immediately, calling for lights at full brightness. Grabbing her uniform off a nearby chair, she quickly threw it on and tied her hair in a messy ponytail. Phaser in hand, she exited her quarters, making a beeline for the nearest turbolift. With the comm system apparently inoperative, she decided to head to Ops first. Chief Petersen could handle Security until she arrived. The teams all had assigned areas in an emergency situation anyway.
(Operations)
Arriving at Ops right behind the counselor, Annora nodded in a silent greeting before turning her attention to the situation at hand. She caught the tail end of the duty officer's briefing which was not encouraging. Hopefully Starfleet would notice the lack of communications with the station and come looking, until then they were on their own.
"Commander, with your permission I'll be joining the defense teams. Until we hear otherwise, we'll hold off those Cardassian bastards as long as possible."
Caleb nodded at Annora. “Go,” he said. “Open the armories. All Starfleet personnel should be armed.” He walked over to the bridge armory and unlocked it, pulling out a Type II phaser. “Get civilians on the Promenade into lockdown so they’re out of the way. Shoot anyone who gives ya lip and toss their stunned bodies into a shelter.”
"Aye, sir. We'll do a sweep of the Promenade and set up defensive positions."
It was a bit early for the morning crowd, but Annora knew the Promenade was never truly empty under normal operations. Handing a phaser to the counselor, Annora left the command deck.
Computer Core
Lt. Kivan Ta'Gas, the recently appointed Chief of Operations was beginning to feel like his "promotion" was more of a punishment than anything else. He was getting ready to log out and go get some much needed rest when the klaxons came online and alerted him to the new crisis that had just presented itself.
The Cardassians had picked the absolutely worst time to engage in sabre rattling with the station. Countless systems had been taken offline for overhaul and to deal with the invasive computer virus that had been discovered within the communications system. Lt. Kivan's team had just gotten long-range sensors back into some form of working order and was on the verge of getting comms back. Now, it seemed like he was going to have to pull another miracle out of wherever to get the station's offensive capabilities ready to deal with whatever stunt the Cardassians were pulling.
"The circus has just come back into town," he muttered to himself as he tried to connect Ops and Main Engineering.
[Romulan Embassy]
Miral woke to the sound of klaxons. "Now what," she muttered, getting dressed. If this was some sort of drill, she'd complain all the way to the Romulan Star Empire. Or perhaps it was more of that crystalline problem the station had a few months ago. However, the sight of Starfleet personnel running through the corridors soon disabused her of that notion.
"Communications are down," her assistant told her as soon as she walked into the embassy.
Miral nodded. She expected no less. "I want all personnel here immediately. Give them disruptors. This is Romulan territory, and if they attack us here, it will be war."
"Yes, ma'am." Several Romulans ran to do as she asked.
"And the colony?" she asked another assistant. "Are they also under attack?"
"Unknown at this time."
"Let me know the minute you find out," the ambassador ordered.
The ambassador disliked war intensely, but she would not allow the Cardassians to subjugate her or those under her authority.
***
Legate Turvan studied the various screens that rotated across his screen, surveying the quickly developing battle. "Brovek, send a communique to the Romulan and Ferengi Compounds. Let them know that we have no need for a quarrel with their respective governments. Inform them that this limited engagement will not endanger their people or their ongoing research. We only wish to co-exist with them peacefully," Legate Turvan dicated.
He knew that this battle would go much smoother without adding extra combatants to the theater of battle. He was not certain what the Romulans would attack with; however, he knew that they would certainly have an easier time bringing in reinforcements and supplying those lines than the other two major powers on this planet.
He needed to keep them at arm's length.
***
Ferengi Embassy
Qinee disliked having her beauty sleep disturbed, particularly by screaming klaxons. “Someone turn those things off!” the Ferengi ambassador yelled as she crawled from a bed that could fit five of her, and was so soft it almost swallowed her small frame. She draped on a garish Tholian silk robe over her naked body and called for hot swamp moss tea, for the caffeine.
“Ambassador,” an equally frazzled assistant said. “We are getting a communication from the Cardassians!”
Qinee frowned and pushed through the doors to her office. She settled into the oversized leather chair and stared into the face of the Cardassian former ambassador.
“Turd-an,” Qinee said with contempt. “What is the meaning of all this? You set one foot in my compound, and I guarantee you all Ferengi Commerce Association trade will stop in Cardassia.” She snapped her fingers to her head of security, who were fortifying the Ferengi embassy compound. “Same goes with our citizens in the colony.”
Legate Turvan allowed the insulting pronunciation of his name to pass. “Ambassador Qinee, you and I have known each other for much too long to engage in such petty bickering,” he said. “I present you with an olive branch. My people will continue to respect the sanctity and sovereignty of your people on this planet as long as you do the same,” he said as calm and as level as he could despite the frantic blur of movement all around him.
“No harm shall come to your people while we secure control over the Portal Complex. More importantly, we offer you exclusive rights to certain portals that are found to lead to lucrative opportunities for your people,” he said. “Imagine the untold riches that could be had upon the discovery of a portal leading to various valuable commodities.”
“All the Cardassian government requires is that you merely stand aside while we wrap up this. . .situation...with the Federation,” he asked.
Qinee considered. “I can’t very well do much of anything with communications severed,” she reminded Turvan. “I can’t speak to what my government will do if I can’t talk to them.”
"Save me the theatrics, Qinee. You and I both know that you enjoy more than your share of autonomy from the Negas. You have the power to open the door to untold profits for your people. You wouldn't be the ambassador for this mission if you didn't have the lobes to recognize opportunity when it presented itself," Legate Turvan said, his voice dripping with flattery.
“Perhaps,” Qinee allowed. “I still can’t communicate with anyone on planet,” she reminded.
"Come to our compound and we can discuss matters there more directly," the legate said. "I assure you that no harm will come to you or your accompanying party.”
“In the middle of a siege?” Qinee asked skeptically. “It would be difficult getting a shuttle off the station now,” she pointed out.
Geral's yacht stood in its shuttle bay, isolated from the noise of the red alert by the sealed environment it created, secure and safe. Inside, its owner slept on, oblivious until...
"Sir?" Sha'rae was shaking her employer gently, but urgently. She was still in her own night clothes, having come the moment the ship's computer had woken her. "Sir, the station has gone to red alert."
Things must be serious, as there had been no call for the station’s captain over the comm. "Get Dorian."
She nodded and left to find the Angosian mercenary.
Maritza slept beside him, sunk deep in an exhausted, dreamless oblivion, unaware of Sha'rae’s presence.
Geral turned, putting his hand on Maritza's shoulder, shaking her. "Maritza, wake up! The station's on alert, and it seems communications are out."
She came too groggily, eyes still red from earlier. "What?"
Getting up and pulling on his clothes, he opened one of the cases that had been delivered to be unpacked and clipped the phaser pistol into his waistband, then pulled on a t-shirt.
Dorian bolted into the room, his duties overriding whatever he might find. "Sir..." seeing the captain, "Cardassians. Systems on the station are out, so I used the yacht's sensors and comms. The Cardassians are on the attack!"
That was an adrenaline shot to the system. Maritza scrambled from the bed, and looked around the new stateroom. "Replicator?" When he pointed, she went to it and ordered a shirt and leggings in her size. She couldn't very well go out there in her nightgown. "And I need to get to a computer linked to the station and find the fastest way to Ops. I've got no comm badge. I can't call for a site to site, and I'm three kilometers from Ops."
"Well, like I said, this ship came with all the trimmings.". Taking her hand, they ran from his suite to the transporter pads in the atrium.
"Ops will be locked down tight, as will all the sensitive areas. The medical center is the closest functional pad that will still be in operation. I can get turbo lifts from there," she told him, roughly finger combing her loose hair into her braids. She paused to look at him. "I don't know what the Cardassians are doing. Please, take care of yourself." She looked at Torel. "Don't let him do anything stupid."
To be Continued…
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