EP1 ACT 4
DECEMBER 24, FEDERATION COMPLEX, 04:00 hours
The comm panel trilled again and Louise Jackson opened her eyes. The
chronometer next to her desk was a surprising relief; at least she had
achieved several hours' rest before being disturbed. Something caught her
attention, twinkling lights dancing around her darkened room from outside.
Hauling herself up on her elbows she peered through the bedroom's high
windows. In the space all around and above her, ships were jockeying for
position to leave the system, like a massive interstellar traffic jam. What
was hindering their departure were many whiplash tendrils from a fierce
magnetic storm spreading across the local space. The energy was filling much of the
space between her lunar residence and the planet Vekaria below. There were
even ships hovering just above the port structures; in her short stay on
Helub, Jackson knew these were not normal shipping lanes. She remembered the
comm signal.
"Jackson here," she rose and took a better look at the scene outside.
"Sorry to disturb you, Commodore, but we've got thousands of people outside
the complex demanding asylum," a thin voice - Inaami must have gone off duty, Jackson
thought.
"I'll be right down."
Minutes later, the Commodore passed her son's door. She thought about going
in, but saw the door panel displayed the privacy lock. Arriving in the lobby
of Operations, the doors opened to a significant amount of activity. There
were many Starfleet security officers forming groups, and she could see her
core team had gathered around the main stats board in the distance.
Instinctively she looked around, wondering if Leonard or some other officer
was laying in wait for her arrival, but there was no one. Through the crowd
she thought she saw her son, and a curious thought crossed her mind about the
door lock, but the face disappeared as soon as it had shown itself, and
Jackson decided she must have been mistaken.
As she crossed the foyer, she collided with a short and young security Ensign.
"Oh!" the Ensign absorbed the impact, but still stumbled. The Commodore's
size had kept her own position steady. "Commodore, I'm so sorry-"
"It's okay, Ensign...?"
"Souveson, Sir," the Canadian accent had a French lilt, and the blonde-bobbed
youth was blushing from her eyelids to her collarbone.
"How long have you been in Starfleet, Ensign?" Jackson always took a moment to
talk to junior officers if the situation ever arose, and as Inaami appeared to
be organising the pandemonium of Operations with ease, she took this moment to pause
briefly before her long and arduous day began proper.
"Two months, Sir. This is my first deep space assignment," Souveson looked
nervously to her unit who were regarding her with a little jealous contempt.
"Keep your eyes open, Ensign. Carry on." Jackson sidled into Ops leaving the
Ensign answering an explosion of questions from her jealous comrades, yet wondering if
there was anything behind the Commodore's polite words.
The situation was dire. Commodore Jackson listened as her staff reported that
the panic on Helub had reached a critical level. Many ships had launched,
unauthorised, and held illegal and dangerous positions for a clear
flight path away from the star system. Many more ships were now contained
within the port by the local authority - outer doors sealed. Their crews were
not happy, and nor were the Qovakian citizens who were crying out for
protection from what was in their minds an impending attack from a rebuilt
K'Tani fleet. Official port-side broadcasts from the government had pleaded
for calm and tried to reassure its people that the storms were just an unusual
disturbance and that apart from pure conjecture, there was no apparent
evidence of an attack and not one clue to there being a K'Tani fleet in the
vicinity.
Still, the overcrowding situation had brought much of the port's normal
activities to a halt. Communications off-world were inoperative,
and contact had also been lost with the fleet beyond Vekaria. Now many Alpha Quadrant
citizens, from all nations, were converging on the Starfleet and Federation
complex for shelter and news. Repeated calls to the various authorities had
been unacknowledged. Some dialogue had been established with fellow Visitors
the Ferengi and the Klingons who had ships in port.
"We'll do the same as on Rinarto 6," Jackson decided, "using soft forcefields
to herd the crowds into safe areas."
"We have received a request from the Vekarian police," Inaami said, "they are
desperately under-resourced and want to supplement their own force with our
security teams."
Jackson had little option but to agree. "How many officers do we have?"
"300 - they said they would need them all to be effective."
"Give them 200. We need the rest to secure the complex," Jackson turned to
Djansky. "We must establish communications with the Fleet. We may need them
should evacuation become necessary."
"Evacuation?!" cut in Corrigan, acting
somewhat the egocentric with so many personnel under his command. "You
actually believe the invasion is real?"
"Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant," Jackson pleasantly scolded, "but
with so many civilians under our charge we must be prepared for the
eventuality."
"I'm not sure that's possible," Djansky said. "The magnetic storm is too
great."
"You must try. Use whatever means necessary - establish links with the Ferengi and
the Klingon, perhaps between us we can find a way.
Petri," Jackson spoke to the slight South American, "help Djansky with this.
Use administrative staff as foot messengers if you have to. Now, how's the
medical department faring?"
Inaami spoke for the absent CMO, Doctor Beintz. "Medics have been treating
people round the clock - partly for the flu but mostly as a result of the
overcrowding. The hospital facility is only operating at about 30% capacity,
but engineers are working to improve this as we speak."
Jackson noticed the lack of engineers present in Ops. "Any word from the
Qovakian authorities?"
Djansky shook her head. "They're receiving our communications down the local
net, but not responding. I've even tried invasive commlinks, but I've been
cut off every time. Only the police are speaking to us, and they only seem to
know as much as we do. I'll keep at it, Commodore."
"Very good. Any contact with our people on Vekaria?"
"Same situation," Djansky frowned, "everything's off-line. It's a
communications nightmare."
Jackson sucked her left cheek. "Okay. I'll prepare a
speech for the crowds outside and work on raising Vekaria. Inaami, I want you
to go to Status 2, just in case."
"Aye, Sir," Inaami thought as much. Status 2 in Starfleet terminology was
one of three levels of security status within a Starbase. Status 1 involved
securing perimeters and standing by at alert status. Status 2 meant
implementing pre-ordained escape routes or coming up with new ones if
necessary, including transport and protection of lives in the process - it
also meant securing the base for controlled destruction so that Federation
information and technology would not fall into the wrong hands should there
need to be a rapid departure. Status 3 would come later, when all the above
would be put into practice.
"Dismissed," Jackson strode into her office to begin the arduous task of
trying to get hold of someone who would listen.
Inaami turned to the security teams who were moving out to take up positions
and spied the Ensign who had collided with the Commodore earlier. "Ensign!"
Souveson turned and snapped to attention. "I need someone to monitor internal
security."
Souveson hesitated - she didn't like being apart from her team, and she was
horrified to discover old technology being used in the base's Operations
centre. Everything at the Academy had been state of the art, and using older
systems required a change of mindset that to Souveson was uncomfortable.
"Aye Sir!" She briefly turned to her disappearing and smiling friends,
envious of her opportunity to be in the nerve centre of what was going on as they made
their way to the docks.
* * *
DOL BATTAKI INTERSTELLAR HOTEL, VEKARIA, 05:30 hours
Lirik stirred in his bed and sat bolt upright. He hadn't been dreaming, but he
had awoken with a terrible feeling. The bedclothes were soaked and he felt
exhausted. His stomach churned and for a second he thought he was going to be
sick.
The reason for his nausea had come from the Medusan side of him.
He walked over to the drapes in his room and pulled them apart, peering up at
the dark, pre-dawn sky. Thick clouds rumbled with thunder, and gave no hint
of the violent energy storm taking place above the world. But Lirik knew
that it was there. He could feel it, pulsating and wrestling, lashing out at
the gathered ships in Vekarian space.
The heavy feeling caused him to be unfocussed. Shutting his eyes he took a
few deep breaths and pulled his Medusan focus inward. Meditation had not come
easy to such a pre-occupied and active mind, but this one technique he felt he
had mastered.
Once feeling steady, Lirik took the precaution of adjusting his environment
shield to a higher setting. The shield provided the added protection of
containing his ambient Medusan energies. Although they were a part of him, so
contained beneath his skin and out of the view of humanoids, the ambient
energy around him caused people stress when in close proximity, and even a
violent attack of horror or nausea if in direct contact with his skin. He
could control the energy, let it seep out of him and become visible and even
use it to paralyse or render someone unconscious. But most of the time he
controlled it. Kept it hidden. And used his shield to avoid accidental
contact with others.
There was a soft but rapid succession of knocks at his door.
"Who is it?"
"Chabal." The female voice answered. The Antarian was a freelance bodyguard
for her people's Ambassador to the Federation. He had met her a couple of
times socially - she was a pleasant, quiet person, not afraid of his Medusan
energy like others were, or at least, not apparently afraid. Lirik opened the
door, pulling on his robe. The bodyguard was also dressed in her night robe
and looked concerned.
"They're gone," she said.
"The Antarian delegation?" Lirik assumed.
"Everyone," she replied, "all the delegates are gone." Lirik couldn't quite
believe it. "I check in on the Ambassador every hour. He was there one hour
ago, but now he's gone. I ran into the Vulcan security guard in the corridor
outside his room and she said the same had happened to her people."
Lirik reached for his communicator badge and tried to raise several delegates
without success. Lieutenant Hiller, a wiry Australian command officer
assigned as one of several 'pool' pilots to the Federation delegates appeared in
the door behind Chabal.
"There's the mother of all magnetic storms up there," he was clearly excited,
"communications off world are down."
"Have you come from Helub?" Lirik wondered.
"No, I tried to go there to pick up supplies from the port, but was
forced back." He ran his fingers through a mop of sandy hair, his golden arm
and hand hairs catching the light and distracting Lirik. "Listen, I just
heard that all the delegates have been called to start the proceedings early."
"From who?" Lirik couldn't quite believe that all the delegates would have
disappeared from the hotel without anyone's knowledge.
"The receptionist," he replied matter of factly.
"Unbelievable." Lirik thrust hands on hips. He walked over to the comm
panel, turning back to the Lieutenant. "Don't you move."
Hiller winced, suddenly remembering that as a Diplomat the Yeoman was his
superior, and he hadn't called him 'sir' even once.
* * *
FREE TERRITORY, FORMERLY THOLIAN SPACE IN THE ALPHA QUADRANT, 07:30 hours
The journey back to the wormhole had felt depressing. For the past
hour, Rebbik had joined Christian in the cockpit of the Pod and the two had
sat in silence.
"Look, about reading your personal logs..." Rebbik began.
"You seemed to find them quite amusing," Christian remained facing forward as
he spoke.
"No, no .. well..." Rebbik decided to be honest, "I'm not exactly in a position
to laugh at anyone else, now, am I?"
"Really? I assumed it was a favourite pastime of yours." Christian hadn't
meant to sound hurt.
"I was drunk," Rebbik continued to justify himself, "and I let my private
thoughts out." There was no apologising which would get him out of this one,
he decided, and opted for a self-critical approach instead. "I've got a big
chip on my shoulder, you see, Captain."
Christian turned to face the renegade, his voice having changed to a
suppressed anger. "Oh?"
"Let's just say I'm a product of my own heritage," Rebbik slumped back into
his seat. Christian expected more, but there was none.
A proximity alarm sounded.
"Approaching the wormhole co-ordinates," Christian confirmed. "Care to take
over?"
Rebbik sat forward and complied. Christian moved back into the aft. Rebbik
was puzzled. "Don't you want to see her open up?"
Christian was disappearing below and called back, "Seen one wormhole, seen 'em
all."
Rebbik shrugged and turned back to the task in hand. As the cloudy purple, blue and pink
orifice swirled open, he flipped the controls to manual and the time-lapse
device on. The wormhole journey would be relatively long, requiring entry and
exit at sub-light speeds - the exit point was set on the edge of an asteroid
field, and Rebbik had heard rumours of eager pilots reaching a swift demise in
the first wave of ships to reach the Outer Zone.
* * *
QOVAKIAN SENATE BUILDING, VEKARIA, 07:45 hours
Having established that the delegates had indeed been awoken in the early
hours to begin negotiations ahead of time (apparently harking back to an ancient
tradition in Qovakian diplomacy), Lirik and the markedly increased number of
abandoned attendants made their way rapidly to the government buildings in the heart of
the city. Security was over-tight and it took them more than an hour to get
into the main concourse outside the Senate auditorium. However, all doors
were sealed and there was no apparent sign of any delegates.
Lirik tapped on the clerk's desk again. "Excuse me," Lirik was smiling his
disarming expression, suppressing the desire to get angry, "do you know what's
happening?"
The clerk flushed, mostly from his distinct lack of knowledge - he only knew
he was to tell people to remain where they were until further instruction.
"I'm afraid not, sir, but as soon as I do -"
"You'll let me know, I guessed as much," Lirik straightened and turned,
leaning obtrusively on the clerk's desk, much to his annoyance. An aggressive
exchange was taking place between another Vekarian clerk and the Bajoran
assistant to his world's representatives attending the conference. Thirty
minutes ago, Lirik and all the other administrative and support staff had been
ushered into the main lobby area outside the huge senate chamber. Only the
delegates themselves were missing.
"Excuse me," the clerk said, placing his hand on Lirik's shoulder, causing a
slight ripple in Lirik's active environment shield. "Oh!" The clerk withdrew
his hand as if burnt.
"It's okay," Lirik said, "I have to wear this personal energy field for ...
medical reasons. No harm done." Lirik checked the field generation control under
his sleeve, just to be sure.
The clerk nodded mutely and touched his earpiece, cocking his head slightly.
"Senate security have intercepted a man in our docking port. He just arrived
on an unauthorised transport and is demanding to be released to attend the
proceedings. He claims to be a Federation delegate."
Lirik decided that this distraction would at least relieve the boredom of
waiting for word on the goings-on within the Senate chamber. "Tell them I'm
on my way."
Ten minutes later, in the small yardmaster's office, a cylindrical tower
overlooking the stylish boarding gates of the Senate building, Lirik beamed
mockingly at the detained delegate. "Ambassador Narli, how nice of you to
show up."
The older Andorian sat unflinching, a gaunt, almost impassive look on his
face. "I was delayed on urgent business in the spaceport above."
"Urgent and unauthorised business," Lirik corrected. He wouldn't embarrass
the Ambassador here, despite his desire to humiliate the obstinate man for his
gall. "I'll take it from here, officer."
Lirik led the Ambassador out into the vacant plaza in front of the boarding
gates. He stood at least a head and shoulders above the plumpish Yeoman, his
pert antennae adding several centimetres to his overall height.
"So," Lirik turned to face him, "do you know what the hell is going on here?"
Narli remained silent. "The rumours of attack from a recently decimated army,
the panic in the space port, the unusual magnetic storms ... what do you know?"
Narli almost smiled. "You were never this impertinent in Starfleet
Intelligence."
Lirik pointed at his comm badge that had a single, thick red diagonal slash
across it. "Diplomatic Corps, Ambassador. It gives me the right to kick your
blue butt from here to the Federation Council Chamber if I want. Now, answer
the question."
Despite his verbal agility, Narli wasn't fond of these Human exchanges of
antagonism. On his home world, men would kill each other over less. But
then, on his world such exchanges were rare if not held in high esteem. Narli
knew that Lirik understood this would rile him, and despised the Yeoman's
attempt to make him uneasy.
"What do you know of the Ore?" Narli spurted it out so Lirik had to review the
sentence in his mind briefly before responding.
"I don't know that name. Should I?"
Narli shook his head. "Perhaps it's not important. However, my getting into the
Senate chamber is."
"Ah. I'm afraid they won't let you," Lirik said. "They started proceedings
hours ago and they're not letting anyone in or out."
"We'll see about that," Narli launched himself toward the Senate house in long
strides, causing Lirik to skip a little to catch up.
* * *
CIVILIAN SERVICES LEVEL C, FEDERATION COMPLEX, 08:00 hours
In a cargo bay now converted to a cr�che for the under 9's, Lieutenant O'Hara
surveyed the rolling, tumbling mess of children surging around the colourful room. Kids
were never her strong point - the youngest of a large family, she'd grown up
knowing only the ways of older children. Crewman Lee, medical technician, had
joined her and was not much help, cowering by her side in shyness.
"This looks like fun," O'Hara quipped.
"Oh, come on," Lee muttered, "inoculating these children should take all of
twenty minutes... shouldn't it? Just get them into two lines, and hey presto."
"Let's find out." O'Hara moved into the middle of the room. "Please, can I
have your attention?"
The children took no notice.
"Hey, everybody, let's play a game." Louder, but only responded to by one
little boy beside her who shrieked a tiny 'yay'.
Waving her arms about, O'Hara tried another tactic. "Hello, please stand
still and listen!" Her voice must have been heard, but there was still no
response.
Lee shrugged her shoulders at O'Hara, who pouted for a moment, then hollered
in her loudest voice: "SHUDDUP!"
The children were as stone.
"That's better. Now, were here to give you all a little injection-" no sooner
as she had said the word, several shrill screams preceeded a frenzy of noise and movement
from the disturbed little ones.
This was going to be a long morning.
* * *
QOVAKIAN SENATE BUILDING, VEKARIA, 08:15 hours
Leaving the plaza behind, Lirik and Narli were confronted with a sea of people. They
seemed to be heading for the docking bay.
"What's going on?" Lirik blocked the path of a Vekarian policewoman, but she
didn't reply and bodyswerved to avoid him.
A Brakonian clerk behind her answered Lirik's question. "Apparently all the
delegates were air-lifted to the Space Port hours ago."
"What?!" Lirik cried. "They can't have." He thought for a moment then said in sudden :
realisation. "They were never inside the Senate, they were taken directly to the
port."
"I suggest we head back to Helub as well," Narli was very anxious. The two men jogged
to try and get ahead of the main crowd.
"Your transport?" Lirik suggested.
Narli shook his head. "It was damaged in the trip here. What about your
runabout?"
Lirik was as thunder. "Not available."
"Then we must find something else."
* * *
WORMHOLE CONDUIT, 08:30 hours
Christian sat in the co-pilot seat as Rebbik adjusted controls for
exiting the wormhole. Strange readings flashed across the
command panel.
"EM activity is high on the other side of the wormhole," Rebbik
translated. "There's a lot of activity there." Two black objects shot past the
Pod heading in the other direction. "Whoah!"
"What were they?" Christian couldn't get a fix.
"Hell only knows," Rebbik chimed. "But even more to the point, what's that?"
Ahead, thin black tendrils reached inside the wormhole from normal space, tapping the
energies within the wormhole. The Pod wasn't happy, shuddering in protest.
"There's a power build-up outside the Pod," Rebbik couldn't believe it. "Only
one option left."
Without warning, Rebbik hit the accelerator command to shorten the journey
time out of the wormhole.
Using his keen eyes, Christian could see a massive black vessel stationary
at the mouth of the wormhole, spiny extensions reaching inside - it was like
no technology he had seen before.
Call it luck, but Rebbik chose to plunge the Pod downward on exit. Had he
chosen to fly up in any direction, he would have flown smack into the centre
of the vast numbers of the K'Tani fleet. As it was, it took all his skill and
speedy reaction time to avoid the now moving asteroids - it was supposed to be
a stationery field. Turning the Pod, he hit all reaction control thrusters
and brought the vessel to rest, thudding into the side of a large asteroid.
"What shit was that?!" Rebbik asked. Christian couldn't answer
him. All sensor and communications systems had gone off line. But the clear
view through the window of the Pod's cockpit showed the frightening image
above. An entire fleet was gathered there, and they appeared to be
manipulating energies from the wormhole into what appeared to be a magnetic
storm cloud formation.
"Is it an invasion?" Rebbik's voice had calmed and he leaned forward,
alongside the Starfleet Captain, to peer up at the multiple formation of
vessels above.
"I don't know. I wonder what they're doing?" energy was obviously
crackling about the larger, odd-shaped vessel.
Without warning, the Pod lurched, its hull knocking against the too close
asteroid. A weapon had been discharged at them from below starboard.
"Which way?!" Rebbik shouted.
"Away from them!" was Christian's reply as a strange, spiny vessel came
alongside and turned for another head-on shot.
Rebbik was quicker and reined the Pod's prow up and away between three
colliding rocks. The vessel pursued, but being of a longer length than the
Pod, had to pull back and select an easier route.
As Rebbik quickly hit the perimeter of the asteroid field, a further debris
field lay ahead. In front, still crackling with energy, were the ragged remains of the
Firefly. Its name was still surprisingly visible on its decimated upper section.
"Oh my God," Rebbik was horrified.
"...my ship ..." Christian could only manage. Then: "Life signs!"
Rebbik didn't have to speak; the familiar negative beep-beep informed them
that sensors were inoperative. As another energy blast coursed past them,
though admittedly at long range, Christian knew they wouldn't have time to check
for survivors.
"Let's go," Christian said.
"Er, where, exactly?!" Rebbik wasn't used to feeling this much out of options.
"Vekaria," the Captain watched as Rebbik engaged maximum impulse and the
remains of his first command were left behind.
* * *
QOVAKIAN SENATE, DOCKING BAY, 08:45 hours
"Coming through! Make way!" Lirik was moving through the crowd to the front
where armed police and soldiers guarded the entrance to the departure gates.
He was carefully supporting the Ambassador, who seemed disoriented and weak - his
right antenna was decidedly crooked.
Reaching the Vekarian policewoman at the point, her colleagues formed a solid wall
behind her.
"This man is seriously hurt," Lirik pleaded, and the Ambassador groaned and
stumbled to add to the effect. "I must get him to our medical facility on the
space port immediately."
The Vekarian shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, my orders are to hold everyone
here. Magnetic storms are preventing a safe passage, anyway."
"Do your orders include being responsible for the death of a delegate as
well?" Lirik said in his most superior tone.
The guard didn't want to be seen as obstructive, but nonetheless had to verify
the man's claims. "Name?"
"Lirik, Yeoman Tix Lirik, Starfleet Diplomatic Corps," Lirik stated, "and this
is Andorian Ambassador Narli."
The woman grabbed the Vekarian equivalent of a padd from a soldier beside her
and entered a few commands. "Ship's name?"
"Ah, well.." Lirik had to think fast, "my vessel has been relocated to the space
port, however, there are other transports here that are authorised to take me."
The woman regarded the padd again. Lirik was growing restless and jabbed
Narli to make another loud groan.
"Is this going to take long?" Lirik pleaded.
The officer looked over the padd at him and Narli.
Lirik added: "I have full jurisdiction and security clearance." He
began to think the woman was seeing through his ploy and thought of another
tac. "At least let me aboard a vessel with Federation medical facilities."
The officer turned to the soldier who in turn called a more junior rank over.
"Take them to the Vool-can vessel. I'll request soonest clearance once
I'm authorised."
"Thank you," Lirik proceeded, much to the annoyance of those he was
leaving behind. A swarm of angry people surged forward wanted to know why he
and the Ambassador had been given priority over them.
Narli grumbled, no doubt in protest to being forced to continue with the
uncomfortable charade for longer than expected. The soldier led them through the
gates and into the empty plaza beyond. Through a long bank of rain streaked high
viewing windows, Lirik could see the fifteen or so transports docked.
The Vulcan craft, about three times the size of a runabout, was of minimalist design. Once
a long-range shuttlecraft, it was now home to a scientist of exceptional repute. The
walk to the gangway gave Lirik the opportunity to think aloud his assessment of the
situation with the silent Narli.
"From what you have now told me it seems the Vekarians have lied not just about
the situation as it stands now, but also about what happened years ago, at the
end of their revolution. Only now the K'Tani are back." Narli grunted. "Okay,
allegedly back. Now the Federation delegates have been whisked away to safety -
but safety from what - an attack? And these magnetic storms? And the lost communication
with all vessels? No, Ambassador, this situation is not good."
Reaching the outer airlock of the angular, marble-effect vessel, Lirik used the comm
panel to patch through to the flight deck. "This is Yeoman Lirik, I'm on
official Federation Council business and need immediate access to your
sickbay." 'And your flight controls,' he thought to himself.
"Yeoman Lirik," the soft male Vulcan voice replied, "we were not expecting you."
"Andorian Ambassador Narli has been injured, he needs immediate treatment," Lirik could
feel Narli was truly waning now.
"Our sickbay facility is limited, surely a Vekarian hospital-" the Vulcan was
only trying to be helpful.
"Look! Just open the airlock. Please!" Lirik could feel the soldier's gaze.
Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.
A couple of breaths later, the airlock opened to reveal a beautiful human
woman, regaled in Vulcan attire and attended by Vulcan men wearing very little.
Vulcans are highly sensitive, despite mastering emotional control. As Lirik
stepped over the threshold the two attendees practically jumped back in
surprise, though managed to maintain their outward emotional control. The Human
woman was puzzled, but as Lirik came closer, she could
feel it as well. The Vekarian soldier had purposefully held back to keep
distance from Lirik and observe the whole scene.
"What you are feeling is the ambient effect of the Medusan energy which exists
within me," Lirik handed the Ambassador to the two almost reproachful looking
attendants. Once Narli had left him, he increased the environment shield to
full power.
"Our medical unit is this way," the woman said and gestured to her left. Not
more than six paces away, a small recess in the corridor wall provided medical
scanning for the Ambassador's dislocation. The woman, olive-grey skinned,
Mediterranean looking, had begun to treat the Andorian. Lirik knew it would
not take long, so he had only a few minutes. He turned to the soldier who had
followed them inside.
"He'll be fine now, thank you," he said, "but I would like to keep the
Ambassador here, to monitor his recovery."
The guard moved back to the open airlock and spoke into his helmet mike. He
then nodded to Lirik and jogged back to the boarding gates.
Once he was out of eyeline, Lirik grabbed Narli's antenna and roughly snapped it back
into position. The Andorian yelped and reeled back, his perceptual senses
taking a nasty jolt - but aside from a splitting headache, the Ambassador would be
fine.
The woman didn't react, except to say, "Why were you deceiving him?"
Lirik ignored her. "I need to see your Captain."
"There is no Captain," she said softly. Lirik found Vulcans annoying at the
best of times. Humans who simulated Vulcan behaviour, he couldn't help
feeling were a bit fake.
"Well, whoever is in command then!" Lirik could feel the minutes ticking by,
unsure of what was to come.
"The crew are under my command, but-" she managed to say.
Lirik turned to Narli and snapped."You okay?" the (paler) blue man nodded. "Then
let's get to the flight deck."
As the woman quickly led the way Narli asked, "What's your name?"
"Karnak. Professor Karnak of the Vulcan Science Academy," she responded. Lirik
caught Narli hungrily
looking at the woman's figure. She was slender with jet-black hair, greased
back in Vulcan fashion, and dark features. Her dress was very clingy and
Lirik wondered briefly if the sexy Human could evoke an emotional reaction in
Vulcan males - or females, he reminded himself.
Reaching the compact flight deck, the trio found two more Vulcan attendants.
There was no obvious rank structure. Instinctively, Lirik looked out of the
viewports to the skies above. Of course, nothing could be seen beyond the
clouds or even the thick rain that had begun to team down from the sky. Even
with the best hull composition, there was no escape from the thudding on the
roof like thousands of booted mice. The Vulcans didn't react, even when Lirik
began to check their displays and read the sensors, such as they were.
"Is there a problem?" Karnak asked, almost Human.
"There is indeed," Narli said, sidling closer to the Professor. "We feel it
would be in our best interests to ignore the current flight restrictions and
return to the space port above."
"Indeed we do," Lirik reiterated. "We believe Vekaria, perhaps all of
Qovakia, is in danger of imminent attack."
"From the K'Tani?" Karnak asked, then added in explanation: "It has been widely
speculated on today's news broadcasts."
"Professor," Lirik regarded the woman, and decided
she had a superior look about her, "I could quote you a whole stack of
Federation regulations in order to requisition this ship, but it would be much
easier if you just let us take her out."
Karnak thought for a moment, then nodded. Narli dropped into the pilot's
seat and Lirik sat beside him.
"Great, no docking clamps," Lirik reported.
"Inform your crew to brace themselves," Narli turned back and gave Karnak an
up-down look, "it could be a bumpy ride."
Narli deferred the drive system coming on line until all other systems were at
the ready, giving him the few seconds he would need in case the dock had a
tractor beam.
"Still nothing on subspace communications," Lirik reported - he wondered if a
Starship would be a better destination than the spaceport.
"Here goes", Narli pulled away from the gangway attached to the side of the
ship, closing the outer doors a hair's breath later, much to the relief of a
Vulcan who was passing by the airlock and hit by a rush of wet wind from outside.
The moment Narli engaged manoeuvring thrusters, the yardmaster was hailing
them. Lirik didn't respond. Internal systems on-line, Narli twisted the
vessel to point straight up and hit the engage button. There was no resistance
from the Vekarians.
* * *
STARFLEET HQ, 08:46 hours
Souveson stared mesmerised at her security panel, nothing had changed for ages. Save
for the viewscreen showing random images from around the complex, there was no
movement. Inaami had successfully secured the complex and ushered civilians
into wider corridors below the Fortress using soft force fields. There was
still no word from the fleet and total silence from the local authorities,
although the crisis within the port had not abated.
A single, minor sensor flickered briefly. The security net detected nothing, but
it was an unusual reaction from her equipment. She boosted the system, giving her
added vision, and this time there was a steady, repeated anomaly on the board.
"Sir!" she called to the Commander. "We have an unauthorised entry to one of the lower
storage bays."
Inaami looked around quickly - she and Jackson were reviewing the corridor
layouts around the complex for possible egress routes. "We're okay up here,
Ensign, you'd best go take a look yourself."
"Aye sir."
When she had gone, Petri called over. "Commodore, Vekarian police have
reported that one of our officers is stirring up trouble among the civilians."
Jackson walked over to the monitors and saw someone standing on a crate shouting at
gathering crowds beneath the complex.
"Leonard!" Jackson said the name through clenched teeth.
* * *
VEKARIAN SPACE, 08:47 hours
The Pod, slightly dented, limped toward Vekaria having made only three
short jumps at low warp to speed up the journey time. Warp travel was
unstable in such magnetic activity, and each time they surged forward the
field collapsed.
"Still no pursuit." Rebbik reported. Christian was busy
studying the visual images of the alien ships, trying to work out what was
going on. He felt sure their intended target was not the Alpha Quadrant, or
they would have passed through the wormhole already - the strange ship feeding off the
wormhole was the biggest clue to that.
Christian stopped, dumbfounded. He scanned back a few frames, zoomed in and
watched again. This time he could
just make out a conduit running from the wormhole ship back into the magnetic cloud.
Although the Pod's sensors were weak and the image fuzzy, he
could now see more ships steadily heading into the
magnetic cloud. Each flash from the wormhole's mouth preceded a flash inside the
cloud.
"That's odd..." Christian said.
"What?" Rebbik demanded. The computer interrupted, noisily heralding their arrival at the
border of Vekarian space. "Slowing to half impulse.."
His voice trailed off. Several small ships scooted past them, hurriedly making their way
from the system in all directions. But their attention was turned to the heart of the
star system. Masking the sun, a huge magnetic storm cloud was spewing forth angry tendrils of
energy as well as many tiny ships that were engaging Federation and other vessels.
The aliens clearly had the upper hand as more and more appeared from the cloud. Christian
looked again at the image on his display.
"They were using the wormhole to create many more smaller ones," Christian
said. "They'll be able to deploy troops throughout Qovakia."
"We should head back," Rebbik asked, fearing for his life and the further
safety of his Pod, "get help from Starfleet Command."
Christian shook his head. "We wouldn't stand a chance. Besides," he deleted
the image on screen, "the wormhole could have become unstable."
"You mean ... we're stuck here?" Rebbik was getting annoyed now.
"For the present. I suggest we head for the moon," Christian, Rebbik noticed,
had now added the extra pip to his collar.
"Through that?" Rebbik watched as explosions ripped through several starships. The
magnetic storm wasn't helping any.
Christian saw several more small dots shooting away from Vekaria.
"From what I can see, they're only targeting ships with weapons capability.
You have none." Christian turned to see Rebbik staring at him. "In your own
time, Mister Rebbik."
Rebbik turned back to face front in time to see a Starfleet vessel explode in a
blaze of brilliant white/orange energy. It was the Ajax.
* * *
STARFLEET HQ, 08:48 hours
Jackson heaved her way through the crushing crowds towards Leonard's raised position.
He was shouting, telling people about the K'Tani's intentions and to take cover deep
below the complex. Some seemed to be listening to him, surging towards the down-ramps
and stairwells leading deeper into the complex.
"Commander!" Jackson bellowed at him. He almost laughed at her appearance,
having tried to contact her for so long. Civilians shouted many questions at the
Commodore, pulling at her for attention.
"Commodore, I am so glad to see you," Leonard looked genuinely relieved.
"You've got a lot of explaining to do, Mister ... consider yourself relieved of
duty!" she shouted above the hubub from her pinned position.
Before Leonard could respond, Jackson's comm badge trilled. Jostled by
civilians, Jackson had trouble hearing Inaami speak.
"Commodore, unidentified vessels are engaging Federation and Qovakian ships in
combat...oh no, we've just lost the Ajax..."
Jackson stared at the scurrying people about her and hardly heard Leonard
speak: "I told her! I knew about the invasion!"
Jackson paled. "Go to Status 3, Commander. Set the systems to blow in 30 minutes,
I'll be up as soon as I can."
* * *
STARFLEET HQ, 08:49 hours
Souveson crouched low in her hiding place. The Orion woman hadn't seen her.
Just as she was about to make her move, the complex became alive with the
sound of evac klaxons, startling the thief. Souveson launched herself at
the slender woman, knocking her to the floor.
Hedrik, not unfamiliar with unarmed combat, easily absorbed the impact and hoisted
the small security guard up and over her body.
"Damn!" she cursed. She'd had a horrible feeling about the job this morning, and had
been in two minds whether to proceed or not. Now she wished she'd stayed in bed.
* * *
08:50 hours
O'Hara and Lee could barely hear the klaxons above the noise of the children.
When they did, they gave a horrified look to each other. But at least the cargo bay was a
designated shelter, so O'Hara and the group were required to stay there until
further instruction. Thankfully, the children didn't seem to know what the
invasive sound meant.
* * *
08:51 hours
Inaami looked out through the Operations windows. An evacuation order had
been given, as had a final destruct sequence for the complex. As she looked
up, wave after wave of ship was now heading towards the moon, presumably to attack
defensive points and Vekarian military bases. Despite the Commodore's earlier
expression of confidence, Inaami could see that Starfleet and other forces
were losing the dogfight above.
Inaami looked back at the ships heading for the moon. Although closer, they had
not changed trajectory at all. Suddenly she realised, albeit briefly, that they
were not ships at all. They were weapons, and they were on a direct course for the
spaceport.
* * *
08:52 hours
Narli brought the Vulcan vessel bucking wildly above the storms into the
high atmosphere and finally into dark space. The scenes of carnage in front of
them were a shock - even Professor Karnak stood and gasped at the horrifying scenes
of destruction. Suddenly, on the moon above, they saw many streaks of light. There
was no mistake - the spaceport was under heavy attack.
* * *
08:53 hours
The lights winked out above Jackson, Leonard and the panicking civilians.
Multiple, far-off booming noises shook the port, and systems overloaded with the
sudden surge. There was pandemonium, and the ceiling rippled, then crumbled all
about them.
* * *
08:54 hours
Dozens of tiny screams filled the cargo bay with a piercing noise. Lights
failed and O'Hara was knocked over by the force of the ceiling and walls
exploding inward.
* * *
08:55 hours
Although Souveson had Hedrik pinned, the booming noises above released her
grip and the Orion slid free. Instead of running, however, she stood, facing
the small Canadian, then looked up. Lights flickered, a rumbling sound grew
louder and the space above their heads was filled with fire and debris as the
two women dove for cover.
* * *
09:00 hours
In the space above the moon, away from the dogfighting, Rebbik and Christian
looked at the devastation caused by the attack on the port below. It spread for
many kilometres, but he guessed the port was far from destroyed; however,
there would be many thousands dead and injured. He saw Rebbik's look of
disbelief when suddenly the comm panel chirped.
"A message?" Rebbik said.
"Let's hear it," Christian's face was a contorted mess.
Through static, the Universal Translator converted the language to a computerised Human
English. "Attention, this is the K'Tani fleet. Stand down your weapons and
surrender. Any ship that does not comply will be destroyed."
Without warning the Pod bucked as if suddenly in a choppy sea. Christian
checked the limited sensor information in front of him. He spoke without
looking at Rebbik. "The wormhole ... it's gone."
= TO BE CONTINUED =
***
EPISODE 2: "INVASION PART II"