We are a part of this too - Part 1

Posted on 12 Aug 2014 @ 2:08am by Commodore Da`nal of the House of Varal & Lieutenant Amia Jaxx & Lieutenant Kordah Himars & Lieutenant JG Tobias Todd & Ensign Z'vonty Flugence
Edited on on 13 Aug 2014 @ 2:33am

1,277 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: M12: For Duty or Honor
Location: Romulan-Klingon Border
Timeline: MD 5

Tycho Camp, Hobus relief zone 5 (Near the Romulan-Klingon border)

Kiscad remembered to be grateful to the universe that he was alive, and his people had hope, before dashing the thrice damn console he was trying to send a simple message on. Power glitches, shoddy parts, that made it difficult, but the interference from the industrial machines dumped in their new homes made it almost impossible. Every day more Remans were shuttled to their camp with nothing but stitches of clothing to their name, Federation and Vulcan overseers conducting camp business without support and as beleaguered as the rest.

The situation was due for imminent collapse, the Remans here had just fought for equal status and were in the midst of dawning a new Reman age when Hobus happened. Now the ancestral racism underlay a severe problem as billions were killed alongside the Romulans but a third of the surviving Remans were sent to the one, barely habitable rock along the whole chain of camps. The others were scattered and kept in internment facilities, used in shipyards, in other words, indentured. Now they were fearing for the same oppression that had trapped them in the first place, and the more industry that came to this desolate mud ball, the more it looked like the mines of Remus.

A chirp brought Kiscad to the present; the console had made an active connection to subspace! He had no idea how long it would last, but while he had it, he needed to hurry.

=^= Kiscad A'klaree, of the Tycho Refugee Camp, Hobus relief zone 5. Requesting Federation diplomatic liaison for zone 5...=^=

A voice came over the comm, it was female, and sounded raspy. "Designation and Clearance?" She was clearly overworked.

Kiscad tried to be accommodating, "Kiscad, Tycho Camp resident. There are-"

"I don’t have you on my list of contacts, where is the Diplomatic Adjutant for your camp?"

Kiscad knew the man was out there somewhere but this connection was a rare gift, he didn’t have the time to wait.

"He is out of comm range for a few weeks doing an inspection tour, listen I must-"

"This channel is reserved for Diplomatic corps official communications, I must disconnect."

Kiscad sent a composed message he had made, text and data as he had been afraid the connection would never allow for direct contact. It told a tale of collapsing infrastructure, hopeless medical situations, mounting tensions and ultimately how undefended they were. There wasn’t even a ground force for police work, it was utter chaos. "Send this to your liaison please, we need help." The Reman people had only just started to rebuild themselves, but this was something that threatened to fracture his race for good.

Static started to build, Kiscad could barely hear her, but the lift in her voice said she saw the data. "I'll forward it onto the nearest Vessel as a priority three distress call... it's all I can do... Good luck."

The connection cut from her end and a moment later the comm lost signal. Kiscad sat back in the chair considering the options of what was to come. Priority three would get attention but by its nature told the people there was no imminent danger or loss of life. They would either be destroyed by some raiding party, or declare war against the "overseers" of the camps. Either way it spelled the end for nearly four hundred thousand refugees, with nobody coming to their aid.

[IKV Hk'bach - Scouting party]

Commander Ktorl sat in command of his aged bird of prey. They were cloaked and approaching the closest planet to Lord Toran's attack path. According to their information there would be nothing on the surface except for a few refugee camps as the system had been too far from the Romulan core worlds, had no major resources, and was too close to the Klingon border for the Romulans.

Ktorl scoffed at the cowardice as he mentally reviewed the information. "Anything on sensors?"

"No Commander. A federation supply ship left our sensor range moments ago, but there is nothing else and the next patrol ship isn't due to pass for another two hours."

"Class of the supply ship and is the patrol ship Romulan or Federation?"

"Both are Federation ships...supplies were delivered by an Excelsior class and the patrol vessel is a Galaxy class."

"Very well...we shall wait until the planet is outside both ships sensor range. Then we shall strike!"


[USS Achilles - Holodeck 3]

It had been several hours since Tobias had started to work on the search for cloaked vessels in the sector. The need for sleep had arisen quite a while ago but his implant suppressed the urges of his body to rest and eliminated most consequences of exhaustion. If need be, he could this up for days but his cognitive abilities would continue to degrade exponentially over time. He had this discussion with several doctors, it was simple sleep deprivation, a state that was all too easy for him to reach and all too familiar. When your mind starts to work like a computer it can be hard to pay attention to physiological needs. He could still manage some hours of productive work before he would give in to the demands of his body.

The holodeck had recreated a three dimensional map of the sector and the last hours had been dedicated to add the sensor data of any passing ships.

"Add tachyon readings in quadrant A-5, A-6 and A-7."

Several clouds of blue appeared in the quadrants in question, joining the already existing clouds of green which designates tetryon particles. Cloaked ships were designed to be undetectable and there was only one reason he could even hope to find some solid leads. Traffic. Since the relieve efforts had started, countless vessels came and went on an almost daily basis. Supply and refugee ships, patrols, diplomatic envoys, medical transports other ships with more specific missions like the Achilles. The result was a mountain of available sensor data and somewhere buried was the proof of cloaked ships ... he just had to find it.

"Do any readings correspond of plasma leakage of any known Klingon ship specifications?"

"237 separate sensor readings identified."

"Too many. How many could theoretically be the result of local phenomena, faulty sensor readings or other vessels?"

"224"

"Display the remaining results."

Yellow clouds appeared unevenly spread over the sector, some completely isolated from any of the blue or green clouds but some intersected quite nicely. But everything he had so far was circumstantial evidence, nothing solid.

"Show any recorded subspace distortions recorded from sensor readings and communication protocols."

The only answer was an error noise from the computer. Irritated he walked over to the terminal and tried to display the data manually. Unfortunately the data was not so easily extracted and would take time before the computer could display it properly. Tobias sighed heavily, he hated delays.

"Begin calculation of subspace distortion patterns."

The whole process would take at least a couple of hours. Frowning at the projection of the sector he thought about his next step. He could use the time to get some rest but he wasn't tired enough. True, he had denied himself any signs of exhaustion but it wouldn't be the first time. Sleep was just so terribly unproductive.

"Might as well do some reading, Computer, transfer the reports of all Klingon attacks on the sector since establishment of the relief effort to my quarters." He marked the holodeck as used and locked the program as he left and made his way to his quarters. Who knew, me might even get some sleep later.


TBC

 

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