Visiting Friends
Posted on Tue May 25th, 2021 @ 10:09pm by Lieutenant Mila Lynn & Captain Freya Mannerheim & Major Ashley Rogers & Lieutenant Hatham tr'Krotash
3,640 words; about a 18 minute read
Mission:
Chapter IV: Unravelling the Mystery
Location: I.S.S. Amelia
Timeline: 238702.18
Mila groaned as she sat at her table in the mess hall. All the coffee in the quadrant would not be enough to cure her hangover, she mused, as she dejectedly stabbed her pancakes. Still, she better get a grip and stop feeling miserable for herself. After all, she was going to go over and visit the Terran ship today. She knew that the Commander and Major would be making a similar visit, but she herself had been invited by the Captain. Mila sighed. Her dream still haunted her. Had it only been the effect of Sari's Orion pheromones, or something else? No, this was not the time to busy her mind with things like that.
Following her breakfast, the young scientist made her way to the airlock, and onto the station where the Ourainavassa was docked. Repairs were now complete, and once the ship had completed its resupply, they would depart Cera and head back to Drozana, before finally taking the fight to the Vulture. As she crossed the station, she noticed the Cat Dancing, T'Ango's ship, had also completed its repairs. She wasn't sure what the felinoid was going to do now, but hopefully she and Gunnar would stick around for a bit longer. She had definitely found them to be quite likable people.
"Ah, Lieutenant, good morning." Mila looked up to see Freya standing in front of her, smiling and looking as fresh as ever, as if last night's drinking had not happened. The young scientist straightened her uniform and nodded. "Morning, Captain. We're back to ranks?"
Freya laughed. "Of course not, Mila. Now, come with me." As the two walked across the docking bay to where the Amelia was docked, Mila looked out at the ship. "Nova-class, right?" she asked. "Yes and no," the Captain replied. "Appearance-wise, yes. The deck layout and such are identical to a Nova. However, the technology inside is obviously far ahead of your time."
They stepped through the airlock and entered the ship. "Looks like a fairly standard Starfleet vessel," Mila observed. "Yes," the Captain confirmed. "Even the UI on our LCARS systems are made to look like that of this time. To the casual observer, the only thing that would appear to be slightly off is the "I" in the prefix. And even that can easily be repainted if we need to blend in more."
She went over to a nearby console. Apart from the Terran emblem displayed in the corner, it was identical to a Starfleet LCARS terminal. Freya tapped in a few commands, and a map of the ship's deck layout appeared on the screen. She pointed at the science lab. "That is where we are headed. The Nova-class is a scouting science vessel, in its original configuration. Our ship is more set up towards combat, but we still have significant science facilities on board. Follow me."
A few minutes later, the two entered the science lab, which was nearly deserted. "Greaves is over on the station, getting some supplies," the Captain explained, before heading to the main console. "Take a seat. I was quite impressed by the setup you have over on your ship, I must say. Especially for a combat vessel."
Mila smiled. "When I first got there, most of the lab had been dismantled by the pirates. Probably sold off everything they could grab. But Raven recognises the need for a working science lab, so she and Gedak made sure I got what I needed to get it running again." She looked at the console. "Now that is definitely not an LCARS UI."
"Correct. This console runs on custom software based on 23rd-century Starfleet tech. It's linked directly to the spore drive. Feel free to have a browse. And don't worry about paradoxes, I've locked off all the history files."
The Lieutenant nodded, and began looking through the console, when a call came through on the ship's intercom.
"Bridge to Captain. The Vulture has struck again. Small refugee convoy. They hit them near Dosadi space."
Freya looked at Mila. "Want to take the fight to the Vulture?"
The Commander led her counterpart and Lieutenant Hatham aboard her ship. After spending so much time with their crew, she grew to respect them, which isn't an easy thing to do for a Terran. But now that they were on her ship, she was proud to show them her world.
The Major glanced at Hatham as she noticed the look of fear from some of the passing crew. They were terrified of the Commander and the sight of a second Ashley Rogers following close behind did not help. "Our crew doesn't look at me like that, right? she whispered to Hatham.
Hatham chuckled quietly. "Our crew is half Romulan. We don't look at anyone like that." It was the truth; you didn't let anyone see fear, not even Tal'Shiar. Based on the crew reactions here, Rogers' evil twin was falling more and more into that category in his mind.
"We don't have the luxury of earning respect and loyalty in the Empire," the Terran said, overhearing the conversation between the other two. "Everyday is a new challenge. Let your guard down... and it can all be over. As much as your comrades probably would have no qualms about killing me, mine are actively plotting it. Now," the Commander stopped in front of a set of secure doors, "Allow me to show you our armory. We have weapons acquired through assorted means."
The Major raised her eyebrow with an excited grin as she looked at Hatham, "Can we try any out?"
The Commander rolled her eyes, "Within reason..."
"CRM 114, PP9120, oo - Varon-T disruptor. Nice," Hatham remarked, eyeing the directed energy weapon. It was old but unlike modern disruptors reputed to inflict an extremely painful death. "I'd like to use that on Vulture."
The Commander nodded with a smile, "You want it? Consider it a... gift... to solidify the cooperation between us."
The Major raised her eyebrows as she was looking at another wall of weaponry.
The Terran looked over at her counterpart, "None of those. Those are more advanced than you can even comprehend... Hatham can have that. You'll have to share."
Share? Hatham raised an eyebrow. Also he seriously doubted any weapon was more advanced than he could comprehend - his father was a weapons master; if something could be used to kill, it generally didn't take him long out figure out how to use it. But the Varon-T was a nice piece and he wasn't going to refuse it. "Shame you two can't get along," he remarked, shaking his head sadly. "Seems like you'd be the person to pick out the best weapon to gift yourself."
Both of the Rogerses glared at Hatham.
The Terran walked over to a shelf and pulled something off of it and tossed it over to the Major.
"What's this?" Major Rogers asked.
The Commander smirked, "You'll figure it out..."
"It makes people dead." Hatham smiled at the Major. "I have every confidence you can use it."
The Major shook her head, "Et tu, Hatham?"
Hatham shrugged, not sure what she meant. "I was being completely serious."
Captain Mannerheim walked onto the bridge. "Report."
"One of Discovery's scouts was shadowing the convoy, ma'am. They reported an attack by two B'rel-class vessels and a freighter that matches the Vulture's pattern. As per orders, they did not intervene. However, we have an intercept point for the freighter. The scout is following them at the moment, ETA to ideal intercept point is thirty minutes."
Freya nodded. "Very well. Call our guests to the bridge. How long to get out of dock?"
"Fifteen minutes."
The Captain sat in the command chair. "Time to make good on a promise. Undock and prepare for black alert as soon as we are clear."
Both the Rogerses and Hatham arrived on the bridge. The Terran looked at her Captain, "What's going on?"
The Major took in the sight of the Bridge and was subtly perusing the consoles and readouts. Old habits die hard.
Freya looked up. "One of the scouts we borrowed from Disco reported in. Vulture has attacked another convoy, near the Dosadi border. They'll reach an optimal intercept point in thirty minutes."
The helmsman turned his head. "Undocking complete, ready to jump."
The Captain smiled. "Well then. Lieutenant, I promised you I'd bring you along when we rescue the refugees. I want you and the Major on the boarding party."
She clicked the intercom. "All hands, our opportunity to strike has come a lot sooner than anticipated. We don't have enough room on our ship to take all the refugees, so we will have to commandeer the freighter they are being held on and use that to take them to safety. Capture the vessel. Terran operational directive 4 applies. We're going to hit them fast, and we're going to hit them hard. No prisoners. We can learn what we need from their computers. Time to show our new friends how we do it in the Empire. All hands, battle stations. Black alert in 2 minutes."
Major Rogers looked at Hatham and Mila and mouthed, 'Black alert?"
Mila shrugged. No clue, she signed back.
Hatham shrugged. In his opinion human used odd colors for alerts anyway. After all, the most urgent alert really should be blood-green.
Once everyone had assumed their positions, Freya turned to the visitors, with a wide grin on her face. "Right then. You'll want to find something to hold on to for this." As if it had just occurred to her, she turned to the communications officer. "And tell the Ourainavassa where we're going."
Finally, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, making herself comfortable. "This is my favourite part," she said, with a chuckle, before nodding at the helmsman. "Black alert."
The lights all over the bridge dimmed, and a warning signal sounded, as what appeared to be lightning appeared around the ship. After a split second, the ship lurched, as if it was falling straight down - and, outside the viewscreen, an asteroid field appeared as the lights went back to normal.
"Report!"
"We're in an omega blast zone, Captain. No subspace means no warp travel, but the freighter's projected course is taking them straight through here."
"Perfect. That would be the last place they'd expect an ambush," Freya replied to the navigator's report with a mischievous smile. "But then nobody knows the spore drive even exists. Red Alert."
The Major looked a bit queasy as she grabbed a railing to steady herself. "Gotcha... that's black alert...."
The Terran Rogers looked over at the Major and smirked, "You'll get used to it. Do you need a bucket?"
Ash looked up and glared at her counterpart, "I'll live."
Bleh. Hatham had sucked his gut tight, jaw clenched, refusing to show how ...unpleasant... that sensation had been. "The bucket I need will be to put Vulture's guts in."
Freya chuckled. "Sorry, Lieutenant, you won't need that bucket today. There is no indication that Vulture herself is present. Commander Rogers, we'll need you on tactical. Lieutenant Hawkins, assist the Commander on the sensors. What's the current situation there?""
The young officer, who had been manning the tactical station, nodded. "Of course, Captain." He glanced at the sensor display. "Three vessels just dropped out of warp. Two B'rel-class vessels matching the configuration of those used by the Vulture. And..." He frowned. "That looks like an Olympic-class?"
"That class is commonly used as a hospital ship by the Federation," the Captain remarked. "But from what we have been told, the enemy is using a variety of ships to transport their captives. I'm not all that surprised they switched to something that is a bit better at defending itself. How long until they are in range?"
"At their current speed and course, they will be right on top of us in five minutes," Hawkins reported.
"Lieutenant Hatham, Major Rogers, make your way to the armory. Sergeant Perez, head of our MACO detachment, will meet you there. Commander Rogers, charge weapons and activate cloaking device. We need to surprise them. As soon as they are in range, blow the escorts to pieces and take out the Olympic's shields and engines."
The Major looked over at Hatham and shrugged, "Looks like we get to have some hands on exchange program experience with a Terran crew..." She lowered her voice, "I've got your back when things will inevitably go sideways."
The big Romulan nodded. "Back at you."
Sitting in the Counselor's chair, Arnason lifted his brows fractionally, but otherwise remained impassive. Freya was betting on both non-Terrans to be most focused on freeing captives and taking out Vulture's followers, and he still felt it was good bet, but the Major's comment was concerning. Something about the touch of hangman humor and fatalism felt almost prescient.
The Major and Hatham made their way to the armory where there were several Terrans arming up, "Is there a Sgt Perez here?" Ash looked around, they all looked well trained, but going into a fight with Terrans wasn't exactly the most comforting thought. She looked over at Hatham, "So... any idea how we got so... lucky to be joining these folks?"
Hatham hoped it was just luck. Coincidences happened, but he didn't trust them.
"Wow, the Cap wasn't kidding when she said you look exactly like our Number One!" A short, petite, androgynous Terran with a childlike voice, snow white bobbed hair and steely blue eyes walked up to the two new arrivals. They were dressed in a plain black combat suit with a single bronze stripe along the side of the left sleeve and the left leg, and four bronze chevrons on the left shoulder, with a Terran tricom badge on their chest.
"And that big piece of prime Romulan must be Lieutenant Hatham. Well, this will be fun." They giggled excitedly. "Sergeant Major Ezra Perez, Terran Empire Millitary Assault Command Operations. Pleasure meeting ya fine folks." Perez put their hands on their hips and looked their two guests up and down, before turning to the side. "Hey, Wilhelm, get your sorry ass over here and bring me two tricoms, will ya!"
An older-looking, bald Terran, almost as tall as Hatham, walked over. "Two tricoms, as ordered, Sarge."
"Perfect!" Perez took the badges and held them out for Hatham and Rogers. "Just so we can stay in touch, and transport you off, in case things go south. Did you bring your weapons? It's fine if you haven't, you can have a rummage around in my toy box. But don't break anything!"
Okay then... Perez was definitely not what Hatham expected for the head of a Terran MACO detachment. Deadly serious Do Not Cross Me, they were not. However, he had seen a lot in his (by Romulan standards) relatively short life, so he didn't assume appearance or manner meant anything with respect to ability in combat. "We have weapons, but always good to have extra for a boarding action."
Ash looked over at Hatham, trying to hide her surprise at Perez. She grabbed one of the tricoms and then peeked into the toy box and grabbed an extra phaser rifle. "They seem to be in a giving mood here," she said with a smile. She then looked over at Perez, "Ready to go when you are. And I think I'm not over stepping to say if you get me killed, I'm sure the Commander won't take too kindly to that..."
Perez giggled. "Tell 'em, Wilhelm."
The huge man grunted. "The Sarge has the lowest casualty rate of any squad leader in Starfleet. Yep, they're that good."
The Sergeant nodded. "You heard it. Once took down an entire Romulan warbird, one of those Zhat Vash types, by myself. Shot my way through to the singularity, and then threw a few grenades at it until it blew. Wasn't the plan, but something went wrong with our transporter, and out of sixteen MACOs, I was the only one who was actually transported. Didn't slow me down, though."
Uh-huh. Hatham schooled his face to complete passivity, though it was an effort to keep an eyebrow from inching up. Shooting through to get to the singularity he could almost believe - it wasn't beyond human capability; he was pretty sure either Rogers could manage it - but the fact that the sergeant was standing here in one piece more or less proved that the 'threw a few grenades at it until it blew' part was seriously embellished. Apparently certain types of operators were prone to that in all species...
They pressed a buzzer by the weapons locker, and the rest of the MACOs appeared, each one as bulky and buff as the next. And yet, this tiny figure was their leader. "Okay, folks, here's the plan. We go in three teams. Alpha, you're with me. Bravo, with the Major. You know, the one that looks like our Commander. Charlie, with the Romulan. Lieutenant Hatham is his name, and you better remember he's on our side, because he really doesn't look like the type we'd want on theirs."
Perez tapped their badge, and it projected a schematic of the Olympic-class. "Alpha will secure engineering, shut down their weapons and propulsion. Bravo, clear the bridge, but don't make too much of a mess, we need that ship still flyable so we can get those refugees home. Charlie, your job will be to find the refugees and secure them. Once that is all done, give the ship a good clean. Exterminate all that vermin. Got it? I want everyone on that ship dead. Well, except for their captives, obviously. Any questions?"
"Sounds like a reasonable plan," the Major agreed. She looked at the members of the Bravo team and nodded, "Keep collateral damage to a minimum... up close and personal kills... my favorite."
Perez clapped their hands and laughed. "Oh, you, I like you. And she makes a good point," they added, turning to the operatives. "There is a place and time for maximum carnage. This is neither. We're on a rescue mission. Not something we usually do, I know, but we need to keep it clean. Gear up everyone, and get ready to transport."
Hatham nodded firmly and looked at his team. "Note those ROE. No lobbing grenades anywhere until we have all the refugees safe. BUT," he added with a level stare at each, "don't turn your backs on the refugees, at least any that are revived. Hiding infiltrators among hostages is one of the oldest tricks in the book." He picked out a Starfleet phaser. "When in doubt, stun first and we'll ask questions later."
Perez smiled. "I see they gave you brawns and brains. Rare combination in my experience. I like you guys." They reached into the crate of equipment, pulling out a phaser rifle and slinging it onto their back, along with a pistol that went into a holster on their hip. Finally, they went over to a locker, and pulled out what could only be described as a massive sword. "My friends, meet Lucy."
Perez gave the greatsword a few casual swings, and clipped it onto a magnet on their back. "Up close and personal, as you said, Major."
"Hello, Lucy," Hatham said with a human-style two-finger salute. He drew a long wicked dagger from the folds of his uniform vest. "This is Sienae." He pulled a short baton from his sleeve and with a flick the end crackled with energy. "And this is Llaiir."
Perez' grin grew ever wider. "Niice. Tell you what. We usually have a thing on every mission. Lowest kill count buys the first round, second lowest the second, and so on - the top five usually don't have to buy anything because everyone's hammered by that point. You guys in?"
Hatham grinned back. "Absolutely."
The Major smirked with glee, "I think I like it here... I'm in."
Freya watched on as the two Birds-of-Prey and the big old Starfleet ship they were escorting came into view. "Zoom in on the front of that Olympic, see if there's a registry on there. I've got an idea."
The viewscreen zoomed in, revealing that indeed the ship's Starfleet registry was still intact. "U.S.S. James Bedford, NCC-97651. Ironic. They stole a ship named for the first human to be put into cryo." The Captain shook her head. "Arnason, check our records if we have a prefix code for that vessel. We might be able to shut her down without shooting at her. Rogers, take out those escorts."
After a quick dance of fingers over a control pad, Arnason nodded. "Yes, we have a prefix code. Of course, whether they've changed it or not..." He tapped another sequence. "The code is ready at your command, Captain."
The Captain chuckled. "Unlikely they even know it exists." She used her chair console to transmit the code to the James Bedford. Nothing happened for a moment, and then the display flashed green. "Bingo. We are in. Locking them out of their own computer... now. Shutting down shields and propulsion. Commander, fire everything. Get rid of those escorts, now."
The Commander smirked with glee, "With pleasure...." she fired the weapons with precision. "I'm only mildly disappointed in how easy this is...."
Freya grinned as she watched the two birds-of-prey explode, and the glow from the Olympic-class' nacelles disappeared. "Excellent shooting as always, Commander." She tapped the intercom. "Boarding party, go."
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