Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
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Security chief Wayne Quirk was sent down to Rigel V to meet with the Rigellians, to learn what his people needed to know about the mission and what the Rigellians knew about the dilithium operations on Rigel XII, and what tactics and techniques that they could employ in this raid. In many ways, it felt just like one of the tactical and planning sessions that went on during the Romulan War, except those involved nowhere near as many Vulcans as were here--except, of course, that these people were not Vulcans.
Once he landed on the surface, Quirk was introduced to Rengor Petyø, who was one of the few Rigellians that did not remind him of Vulcans. He was bulkier, and his face was scarred from an undisclosed incident. He had rather wild and unkempt hair that showed a lot of gray, as Petyø was somewhat older than the rest of the Rigellians that Quirk was meeting with.
"He's going?" Quirk asked.
Petyø spoke for himself, saying, "I'm going."
"You know something?"
"I spent twenty-two years as a slave on Rigel XII, working in the dilithium mines and in the processing facility. I know it as well as anything in my life." To Quirk, that information could prove very useful. "I thought I would never go back, especially in this manner."
"How long ago was this?"
"I finally found a way to escape fourteen years ago."
"And the facility would not have changed since then?" Quirk asked.
Petyø answered, "No, I don't believe so. The facility was built by another race, and the Orions simply stole it. They don't have the intelligence or the skill to modify and improve the facility. They simply work it."
The other high-ranking Rigellian present was Pladken Uparto, who was identified as the military commander in charge of this mission. He was much younger, the equivalent of a Vulcan in his mid-fifties, and he looked to be in good physical shape. His rank was translated as "general," but that did not mean that he was exactly the same as a general on Earth. The translation program simply presented the closest possible rank translation. Uparto explained, "Rengor has provided us with a great deal of intelligence on the dilithium facility. We have created a mock-up version of much of the facility in this underground chamber, and have practiced capturing it."
"And you're confident it's up to date?"
"I have no reason to believe otherwise," the general remarked. "But we can adapt to whatever changes the Orions might have put into the facility."
"I see."
"You doubt?"
"No, not at all," Quirk explained. "This is new to me. The idea of having this kind of intelligence on what we're going to attempt to enter is new to me. During the Romulan War, we never had any idea of what we were going into. You approach things differently when you never know what you're facing, and I guess this just seems a little different to me." On the other hand, Quirk thought, if he could get his security team to take a quick trip through this, they might be able to sufficiently acquaint themselves with the facility.
"These Romulans, this war," Uparto started. "Tell me about them."
"That's hard in a way. The Romulan War lasted eight years, but was really a series of skirmishes and space battles. Ground forces were rarely used. What was interesting about this war was that we never came face to face with the enemy. To this day, we don't know what the Romulans look like, except that they are humanoid and have some basic biochemistry in common with the Vulcans--and you."
"Interesting," the Rigellian leader replied. "Is this war still going on?"
"No, it ended, mostly because neither side had the resources to keep on going. When the war started, our ships were not terribly advanced, but the Romulan ships were even more primitive than ours. They lacked an obvious warp drive, but must've had some kind of faster-than-light drive. They also had invisibility screens that made them hard to track. In the end, a ceasefire, a truce--not a true peace--was negotiated over subspace radio. We communicated in text using the Preserver code, without face to face or even voice to voice contact."
"And yet you know what they're called?"
"Actually, we called them Romulans. We have no idea what they call themselves. We called them that because we recovered some artifacts, a dress uniform with a rather distinctive ornamentation that strongly resembled something worn by a long-gone cultural group on Earth called ‘Romans.' We couldn't call them ‘Space Romans,' but then we found what might have been their racial symbol, something like a bird of prey holding two spheres in its talons. We thought that the spheres were like planets, and thought that the Romulans came from a dual-planet system, or have two homeworlds. In Roman legend, that culture was founded by two men, Romulus and Remus. We started calling those two planets, their two homeworlds, those names, and one led to Romulans. Their name for themselves is completely different, no doubt, just as we have called you Rigellians, while you use a different term."
"I heard it translates as ‘The People," Uparto remarked.
"Yes, and the term we call ourselves translates into your language as ‘persons,' so we're stuck with the terms we have given each other." Quirk paused for a moment, and then asked, "I'm not boring you with these explanations, am I?"
"Oh no," Uparto said, with a slight laugh. "Your stories are very interesting. I hope after the completion of this mission that we have time to talk more. Undoubtedly, you have many fascinating stories about these Romulans and the war."
Quirk hesitated, and then said softly, "I guess so."
The Rigellian leader got back to the task at hand, and asked, "So how many military personnel are on board your ship?"
"Only twelve. We were marines during the war, and then got training in more security-related aspects of life on a starship. However, our military training is still intact. All twelve, including myself, have seen combat duty. Battle will not be a surprise for us. We know what it is like."
"But just twelve? How many are on your ship?"
Quirk could not recall the exact number, but said, "Around a hundred and twenty. The rest are those that run the ship, like the engineers, and the mission specialists, like those prepared to handle dilithium and the scientists and all the support workers, like the medical staff and the galley staff and the like. We did not anticipate getting into something like this. Had we, we would've brought more marines."
"I understand. The bulk of the forces will be my people. We have, afterall, been training here for some time. Your assistance will be much appreciated. Your most important contribution will be getting us across the orbiting defense systems and their ships. We could never get a vessel as effective as yours built, since the Orions always seemed to find out about it and would attack. With your ship, we can get through the lines and then take the dilithium facility and by extension the whole planet. It's the only thing there."
"And you're not anticipating ground resistance?"
Once more, Uparto gave out a hearty laugh, followed by what Quirk could only describe as a derisive snort. "The Orions? The Orions are cowards. They'll sneak-attack. They'll ambush. They'll sneak on board your ships or slip into your cities, and they'll attack from cover. They'll run, they'll hide, and they'll never confront you face-to-face. They'd rather run. In addition, the Orions at the dilithium facility are lazy and not their best soldiers. Service there is considered a very low-rated assignment, given to the worst soldiers, the poorest trained, the most prone to being bribed. All we need to do is isolate the command centre, where the strongest resistance can be found, but the control centre is not near the working areas of the facility. The Orion elite would never dirty themselves by being that close."
"Still, there are risks."
"Of course. In any military operation, there are always risks."
* * *
Captain Hall welcomed Ngamboq onto the Atlas, but it was how he welcomed her that was a little uncomfortable. She beamed on board. He had seen their transporters in action on the surface of the planet, but now this woman had simply appeared out of thin air. The transporter on board the Atlas had no problem handing inert materials, but it could not transport anything living. That did not mean in theory a transporter could not handle a living entity, but Hall had always had doubts about whether or not that theory could be made into reality. Seeing Ngamboq appear in front of him like that, those doubts were erased. Nevertheless, he had this moment of unease, in which he could feel his heartbeat race, as Ngamboq seemingly materialized out of thin air. The experience was unreal. For the Rigellian, it looked routine.
Regaining his composure as fast as possible, Hall said, "Welcome on board the Atlas, Xykør."
"I appreciate you allowing me on board your vessel," Ngamboq started. "Few alien cultures extend that privilege, mostly because they believe they have technology on board that remains hidden."
"Given your personnel transporter, I doubt we have much technology on board that you cannot match."
"You never know," the Rigellian replied. The two started to walk down the corridor. Ngamboq barely came up to Hall's shoulders, and he was not exactly a tall man. She was also slight of build, and the uniform she wore did nothing to extenuate that. The uniform was a single-piece garment, made of a dark blue material that looked stiff but was soft. It had a multitude of pockets, and a broad equipment belt that had some pieces of gear that Hall could not immediately interpret. Maybe one was a communicator, and another controlled the transporter, and the third quite likely the translation device. The woman looked to be older than Hall had first thought. She had black hair, cut short in front to hide her forehead, and then pulled back to reveal rather Vulcanoid pointed ears. The rest of her hair was in a single braid that laid down her back, a braid that was long enough to extend noticeably past the equipment belt around her waist. "Your ship has an interesting name, captain."
"The Atlas?"
"I looked over the language database that you transmitted, to allow us to communicate. The word ‘atlas' seems to mean a book or collection of maps. It seems an unlikely choice of name."
"Perhaps, but the name really refers to the mythological being named Atlas. In an old Earth culture, a culture which strongly influenced many that followed, Atlas was one of the Titans, the side that lost a battle between groups of gods. As punishment for backing the losing side, Atlas was condemned to hold up the sky for all eternity."
"Still a curious name for a ship."
"A lot of our ships are named after such things. Maybe they evoke memories of strength or superior abilities, since this vessel can do things that no other Earth-built ship could. We can't use the names of the more recent deities, however."
"Why? Does your people still follow such mythologies?" Ngamboq asked.
"Not so much anymore, but even so, by the end, only one deity remained."
"But now there are none?"
"You could say that."
The two entered a turbolift, with Hall tapping in the code for deck two. Ngamboq changed back to business, saying, "Captain, we should be departing for Rigel XII shortly. You said that you have spare dilithium on board."
"Yes, we had some on board as spares in case something happened to our main dilithium crystals while we were a distance from home."
"A wise precaution."
"My engineers are preparing it for shipment now. I was informed that it could allow you to operate six of your larger ships."
"Yes, that's true, troop transports mostly. Nevertheless, I do have a request from you."
Hall wanted to say something about "another one," but did not. "Yes?" he asked. Before Ngamboq could answer, the lift came to a stop and the two left. Hall guided her to the situation room, where Abuna was waiting. She sat around the small table that also served as a large display that could be used for various purposes, including planning tactics.
"I would like to bring some of our portable transporter units on board your ship. Do you have open space large enough to accommodate them?"
"What for?" Hall asked. Abuna simply sat there, and listened. Although Abuna was aware of what Hall had decided, he was still a little worried that she might attempt to convince Ngamboq that the Rigellian plan was wrong and that alternatives did exist. For now, she remained silent.
"It is my understanding that you have some military officers on board who will be assisting us in this mission." Hall just nodded, and the Rigellian seemed to understand the meaning of that gesture. "The transporters will allow them to enter and exit the event locations quickly."
"But my officers might be uncomfortable or disoriented in transit, especially since this is something that they have not experienced before."
"That's unlikely. The transporter is very safe, and the person being transported feels very little besides a slight prickling sensation."
"True, but to do it in the middle of a stressful situation might make it more difficult."
"Nevertheless, captain, I think it would be the most efficient use of your ship. The plan, as Operations Command has established it, is for our ground forces to seize and hold the facility. However, we're fully aware that once the Orions realize what is going to happen, they will form a fleet and attack the homeworld. Our mission is to acquire the dilithium and return to the homeworld as quickly as possible, so that we can distribute the dilithium to our defense facilities and resist the Orion counterattack."
"And the forces at Rigel XII?" Hall asked.
"They'll be able to hold the planet until we can stop the counterattack and relieve them."
"I see," Hall remarked. It seemed almost like too good a plan. All he had to do was to help the Rigellians get through the defenses around the twelfth planet, and then start beaming up dilithium before leaving and heading back to Rigel V as quickly as possible. The one flaw he could see would be that the Orions might trap the ship at Rigel XII once the battle started, to prevent them from returning to Rigel V in time, or else the Orions might start their counterattack sooner, like as soon as their little fleet was heading towards Rigel XII. Nevertheless, he felt he was committed and right now, he could not turn back. Finally, he said, "How large of a space do you need?"
"We could use four of the units. Three should be located near where we can have personnel prepare for their missions. The fourth would be near where the dilithium would be stored. We will require engineers on board to prepare dilithium for the defense systems. They would have full specifications and would have the faceting and moulding equipment with them."
Hall called up the three-dimensional schematics of the Atlas and worked through various sections of the ship to find suitable space. One of the units could be set up in the storage hold which had been turned into an unofficial zero-gravity games room, and the other three could be lined up in one of the supply holds. They had gone through enough of their supplies that they consolidate what they had in one of the supply holds, and use the other one for the remaining transporter units "Do these require a connection to the ship's power supply?"
"Not normally," Ngamboq replied. "However, it might be wise to allow the units to draw ship power, in case we have unanticipated heavy transporter use. It would be wise to have the connections set up ahead of time in the remote chance that we would need to use them."
"Understandable. I'll need to let my engineers know what the power specifications are and the nature of the connectives so that the systems could be mated."
"Of course. Whatever information you need, we will provide it. I would like to see in person these areas of your ship."
"Yes. If you'll come with me."
As the two turned to leave, Abuna spoke up, "This is sheer madness."
"Commander," Hall retorted, as he turned around.
Ngamboq also turned, and asked simply, "What do you mean?"
"Surely there must be alternatives to this raid that you're proposing and planning for."
"Do you have an alternative course of action?"
"You could attempt to negotiate with the Orions."
"Negotiations require a position of strength from which to negotiate," the Rigellian official started. "Negotiations require that the status quo no longer be acceptable for both sides. As of this moment, the status quo is perfectly acceptable for the Orions. They have no need to change anything. This mission will change that. It will take away the status quo, and might convince the Orions that perhaps they should negotiate."
"I can see many places where the mission can go wrong, like the Orions launching their counterattack immediately."
"We understand that there is risk in this mission, and it's a risk we're prepared to assume. The alternative is to do nothing and continue the stagnation of our culture, and to let the population of the homeworld continue to suffer because we are constrained from using the full abilities of our culture. That's the alternative that the Orions would want."
"Even so."
"Commander," Ngamboq continued, showing more patience than Hall would have, "the parallel situation involving your people would be those Romulans you have mentioned on more than one occasion. Your people might have chosen the alternative of not fighting them, and letting them start dictating to you what you can or cannot do, even without actually occupying your planet."
"It's not quite the same thing."
"No, it is not. No two situations are ever identical, but I believe that the situation is close enough."
"In the end, negotiations did end that war."
"Yes, after the point when either side realized that they could actually lose the war, the point at which the status quo was no longer acceptable for either side. That condition does not yet exist in the Rigel system, but maybe after today, it will."
Abuna had no immediate response to that. She watched as the two left the room, leaving her staring at a graphic of the Atlas. She wondered how much of this ship was going to survive the next day or so. She could look around the crew of this ship, and realize that some of them were not going to survive this. Such was the nature of war. She never experienced it first-hand, but had heard about it. She had heard about missions in which sixty percent of the participants did not return, but which were declared successes because objectives had been met. People like Hall and Quirk and others knew about such missions, and had seen the war first hand. This was familiar to them. This was not the way that Abuna wanted the Federation to be, but she was clearly in the minority. Other than Torres--who might be busy with the casualties of battle--she found nobody who thought like she did. If this would be the way that the Federation operates, then it would be little more than what the Orions called their "Second Empire."
* * *
The time had come. Hall settled down in the captain's chair, and glanced about the bridge stations. Every post was manned by first-shift officers, with one exception. Quirk was not on the bridge. Instead, Ngamboq was at the security console, although she was more of a spectator and an advisor to the captain. She could not operate the console even if she wanted to. As he waited for the signal, Hall reviewed the last couple of hours. He had been informed that Quirk had been given the battle plan by the Rigellians and had gone over it in a dry run in some underground facility. The Rigellian portable transporter units had been brought on board, by transporter naturally, with the Rigellian engineers setting them up and then preparing their dilithium processing equipment in the one hold. Despite a long history of wartime missions, Hall still felt very nervous over this one. One thing could go right, and so many things could go wrong--but that was a common statement in a mission like this. Hall tried to not reflect on that. That was almost a saying on some of the ships he had served on.
Yuniki finally spoke up, saying, "Captain, the six Rigellian ships are now rising from the surface, and approaching. They..." After a pause, the operations officer added, "They're Orion, sir."
"Xykør?" Hall asked, looking back at the Rigellian.
"Technically speaking, captain, the Orions are using our ships. The vessels at Rigel VIII are really copies or older actual versions of our own ships. That's to our advantage, though."
"In what way?"
"Because the Orions are not technically gifted enough, they won't be able to change the shield modulation algorithms. I have them."
"So our weapons can go through their shields as if they were not there?" Abuna asked.
"Exactly, once we start to scan their shields and determine the algorithm and the state. I believe the sensors on your ship are adequately sensitive for the task."
"Oh."
Yuniki spoke up, saying, "Captain, I'm getting a signal from the lead Rigellian ship. All vessels are in formation, and we've got the order to proceed."
"Helm?" Hall asked.
"Course is laid in."
"Then lets get on the move."
The Atlas pulled out of orbit around Rigel V. Accompanying the large Federation ship were a number of smaller Rigellian ships, including what looked like two-person attack ships not unlike the one that had come on board the Atlas bearing Pedwallak and his bodyguard. In addition, the Rigellians had six somewhat larger vessels, although end-to-end, they barely matched the length of the warp nacelles on the Atlas. Those ships, Hall learned, were troop transports, and were filled with soldiers. They had little in the way of amenities, and considering how many were on board each one, they likely were just standing and waiting. Ngamboq had informed him that those ships were originally designed for when the Orion's Second Empire was more extensive, and though quite old--some were into their second century of use--they were sturdy, reliable ships. Listening to this, Hall was again beginning to wonder what exactly did the Rigellians lack to prevent them from staging their own raid against Rigel XII--beyond the dilithium necessary to actually run the bigger troop transports.
The initial course was not towards Rigel XII at all. Instead, the Atlas assumed a course out of the system that approximately matched the course that they had taken to enter the system. The Rigellian ships clustered around the Atlas in such a way that Weisser felt a little nervous and had to maintain an extra-precise course, but Ngamboq had explained that the pattern was designed to fool the Orion long-range sensors. It looked like the Federation ship had ended its time in the Rigel system and was heading home. "How long?" asked Abuna, as she watched all of this activity.
"Two and a half hours," Ngamboq explained. "Rigel XII is positioned in its orbit almost equidistant from both our homeworld and the Orion's planet. It is moving towards us, and it is at this point that the Orions would strengthen their defenses, but all indications are that they have not done that yet, and might not do it."
"Why?"
"For so long, we have not attempted a mission of this type, and the Orions might be getting complacent."
About ten minutes later, the Atlas, in tight co-ordination with the Rigellian ships, made the jump to warp, but they did not accelerate much beyond warp one point five, mostly because the smaller vessels could not go much faster given that their primary warp converter was dihydrogen, although the troop transport ships were equipped with dilithium from the Atlas reserves.
"Any indications that we're being scanned or monitored?" Hall asked.
"None that I can detect," Abuna answered, without looking up. "However, there's no way of knowing whether or not passive scans are being done."
"It's unlikely passive scans would determine the true nature of our mission," Ngamboq remarked. "Again, there is considerable likelihood that the Orions are complacent and do not believe anything unexpected is about to happen."
Abuna, looking towards the captain, said, "Sir, don't you think she sounds like a Vulcan?"
"Commander?" replied Hall, clearly caught off-guard by the comment.
"What do you refer to?" Ngamboq asked, as she looked up at the first officer. She had nothing to do but watch the others, and the tactical display on the security console. She assumed what each symbol meant.
Abuna started to explain, "Within the Federation is a race, one of the five founding races, actually, called the Vulcans. They look a lot like you. In fact, they look almost exactly like you. You have copper-based blood, which is green, in contrast to the iron-based blood on the Orions and ourselves. Your ears are pointed. You live on a hot, dry planet."
"And you think we're Vulcans?"
"That's what I don't know. Clearly, you must've come from somewhere else. Your kind could not have originated on Rigel V."
"That's true."
"So," asked the first officer, "in your history, is there no record of where you came from? Did you come from Vulcan, but at a long time in the past?"
"Our history does not record where we originated. Our oral traditions, tales which were eventually written down and formed the basis for our most important ancient literature, do not speak of the origins, except to say that some mythological being created us, along with the planet and the star. These histories go back fifteen thousand, five hundred and sixty-two years."
"So you basically believe that you were created," Abuna said.
"Perhaps in pre-scientific times, but as our knowledge of science expanded, we accepted less and less that a mythological being was responsible for our creation."
"And yet, if you were brought here, even before your historical memories began, it might be difficult to come up with an alternative explanation. I mean, you don't have fossils and signs of evolution on the planet. All you might have is some evidence of lifeforms that were not the same as yours, and which might have been more numerous in the past but which are rare now."
"That's correct," Ngamboq said. "As our science progressed, we developed no concept of evolution, although we saw evidence of evolution on the microscopic scale. We never accepted that larger organisms--ourselves--could mutate in the fashion we saw with bacteria. A static existence was accepted. As astrophysicists studied the star, they realized we could not have been here forever. We stared to accept the idea of the Permanency, that we have always existed, and that we travel between stars in search of a new world when the old one is no longer inhabitable."
To Abuna, that almost sounded like what the Preservers were alleged to do. This unknown race--considered by some to be almost mythological themselves--took individuals from one planet and settled them on others for purposes that were unknown. Perhaps the Preservers had taken some Vulcans, from a time before they embraced logic, to preserve a culture that was going extinct. These Rigellians would have started over from the beginning, with no memories of where they had come from. She asked, "But did you ever question your ultimate origins?"
"The philosophy of the Permanency has suggested that the only method to truly determine our origins is to find the originating planet. Of course, when we look up in the night sky and see tens of thousands of stars, and once we knew that the galaxy contained a hundred million stars that could contain inhabitable planets, we had no idea where to begin to look. Some have been looking for a sign."
"I see," Hall said, and he had this sudden feeling what the sign would have been. Now he was wondering how Ngamboq would have reacted had there been a Vulcan on board the Atlas.
The Rigellian asked, "Do these Vulcans know if they originated on the planet on which they now live?"
Oddly, Abuna had no immediate answer to the question, although she was pretty sure that the Vulcans did originate on Vulcan. Their scientists surely would have let it be known that the Vulcans had not originated on their planet. Abuna also recalled hearing something about how at once time, a segment of Vulcan culture wanted no part of the new culture based on logic that was sweeping across Vulcan. History did not record what happened to those who resisted, beyond saying that they simply disappeared. Yet, it seemed unlikely that the Rigellians were descendants of those Vulcans, since that group would have left millennia after the Rigellians started recording their history on this planet.
After some thought, Abuna asked, "I believe that they did."
"And do they have a record of some group leaving the planet, or being removed from the planet?"
"I don't think so, not at least using your time frame. The Vulcan records that far back are rather fragmentary."
"It would be of interest to explore this connection some more. The Permanency is still an important belief system among my people, since it explains many things."
"I see..."
* * *
Quirk was just outside the large room where the three portable transporters had been set up. He looked over the other eleven officers who would be taking part in this raid. Like them, he was in battle fatigues, mostly in a gray colour to match the decor of where they were going. They all had on helmets with the face plates that could display tactical data, and which contained built-in communications equipment to allow them to communicate with each other and the ship. Over their uniforms they wore basic body armour, which might not protect them completely against alien weapons, but would give them a precious few seconds to get out of the way and return fire. For weapons, the twelve security officers had phase rifles, which used a phase modulation on a beam of directed energy to deliver maximum power to the target. At the highest setting, a second-long burst was enough to all but vapourize an enemy soldier. At the lowest, the weapons could scramble the target's nervous system and cause them to collapse into unconsciousness. The weapons could also blast through thick concrete and metal walls, and could also fire with pinpoint precision to take out alien sensors and booby traps. Each officer wore an equipment belt, which contained communications gear, a battlefield tricorder that linked with the heads-up displays in the helmet visors, spare power packs for their weapons and even basic medical equipment, rations and a little water.
Quirk felt a little nervous over what was going to happen, but then any soldier going into combat would feel a little nervous. Combat was not abstract. The people on the other side were shooting back. Not everybody would be coming back. Those standing in front of him understood that too. Each hoped that this was not their time, but the odds were good that for somebody, it was. All the rest could hope for was that any casualties they suffered were not in vain. Quirk was almost inspecting his troops, and the others sensed that. They stiffened up, and tried to look alert. He stopped in front of one of them, Jordan Mack. "Are you nervous, officer?" he said sharply, in his best sergeant's voice.
"No sir," Mack snapped back.
"During the war, how many combat missions did you go on?"
"Six, sir."
"Did you see death?"
"On one, sir," Mack replied, still sounding sharp.
"And on the others?"
"We were prepared for combat, but did not engage the enemy at any time."
Quirk asked, "And you never came face-to-face with the enemy?"
"No sir. One was killed by snipers, and the other two by clever booby traps."
"And your objective?"
"Fully met, sir."
"That's what we're going to do this time too," the security chief started. "All of you were from the United Earth Marine Corps, all served during the Romulan War, all saw combat. This time, though, we're not fighting for life and home, but to assist a possible new allied race. We're also here to acquire dilithium. I do not want any of you to consider that we're conducting this mission as any kind of raid, as any kind of act of piracy. The dilithium is the product of slave labour, and that implies the slave owners have no right to it. We are simply accepting in payment from the Rigellians for our assistance in their own struggles to improve their degree of independence." Staring down the others, he said, "Does anybody have any problems with this interpretation?"
Dmitri Asselstine spoke up, saying, "It's not exactly the party line as stated by the Federation, to which we now all belong to." Asselstine found that statement a little curious, since their combat fatigues still had the symbols of the United Earth Marine Corps, as the Federation had yet to organize any ground force service.
"That's true. On the other hand, just because we joined with the Andorians, Tellarites, Vulcans and Kentyans in the Federation does not mean that war is over. We will have to fight again. Just like many of us came from nations that understood that freedom, and things of value, had to be defended, we will have to carry those principles to the Federation too. Those principles include assisting allies and possible allies. Sometimes, the only solution is a military solution."
"Of course, sir. We are all ready." Asselstine added a slight laugh, and said, "Afterall, you don't think that the Federation put us, all combat veterans, on this ship to be mere security guards? They were anticipating."
"I believe that to be so..."
* * *
"Initiate course change now," Hall ordered. Immediately, Weisser called up a preprogrammed set of commands and transmitted the information to the Rigellian ships still hanging close to the Atlas. It was impossible for so many different ships to remain in tight formation while manoeuvring at warp, but once this course change was made, the tight formation was no longer necessary. The Orions at Rigel XII knew that this task force was coming for them.
"Initiating," the pilot finally said. The stars slid sideways across the viewscreen for a few seconds before resuming their normal patterns. At this distance, Rigel XII was too far away to be visible.
"Accelerate to warp three point five," Hall ordered. Weisser silently complied, pushing the Atlas to the higher speed. The dilithium-equipped attack ships easily kept up with the big ship, while the other troop transports lagged behind. The Atlas could go faster, but they did not want to get too far in front of the remaining troop transports.
"Arrival time is now twelve minutes."
"Yuniki, sound red alert." Almost immediately, the lamps above the bridge exits and elsewhere on the ship started to flash red, to the accompaniment of a rather loud blaring sound. Just that sound brought back memories of the Romulan War. Hall could almost feel his pulse race and his blood pressure rise. "Have the forward and rear phaser batteries powered up. Arm the MAM-Torps and load the tubes."
"Aye, sir."
Abuna spoke up, "Sir, scanning the planet now. The Orions have detected us and are moving ships into position."
"How many?"
"Six, larger than the attacker ships we had seen."
Ngamboq could see the sensor displays as well, and said, "Aklar-class, older vessels, used by the lower echelons of the Orion military. Like I have mentioned, the dilithium planet is not considered a high-status posting."
"Armaments?"
"Directed-energy weapons with a phase factors, antimatter torpedoes, but short-range and unguided. Shielding is not the strongest. Such ships were designed for mass defenses, mostly of bases and larger ships, and not planets."
"There are others," the first officer said. The sensors showed two somewhat larger vessels, each about half the length of the Atlas, that were also moving into position. "What are those?" Abuna could see no element of Rigellian design in them.
"Unknown," Ngamboq replied. "The Rigellians must've got those from another source."
Softly, Hall said, "Well, nobody said this would be easy. Lets get a read on its armaments and shields."
"Weapons are similar to the Aklar-class ships," Abuna replied. "I suspect that they're standard Orion design. They can probably build weapons."
"Ten minutes," Weisser remarked.
* * *
Down by the transporters, Quirk looked over his men and said, "We've got the signal. We're ten minutes from Rigel XII. You have your assignments. Lets get into position, and good luck!" The twelve officers checked over their equipment one more time, and then split up into their groups of four. Each group would go down by the Rigellian transporter, in the presence of two Rigellian soldiers. Quirk knew that they would be the advance group, and would attempt to capture as much of the facility as possible before the arrival of the main bulk of the Rigellian forces. That could be upto five minutes once they transported to the surface.
"Nervous, sir?" asked the man standing beside him, Trevor Yuen.
"About the mission?" Quirk replied.
"No, this transporting business."
"Apparently it worked. All the Rigellians came on board by this method."
"But they're used to it," Yuen replied. "No human has ever transported before. Our transporters aren't good enough."
"And yet, in the future, this could become the standard way to leave the ship and head to planets. It's certainly faster than a shuttle."
"And if anybody needs to get out of the battle site, that can happen to."
"Yes, very fast," Quirk replied.
The portable transporter was a surprisingly large device. The details of the machinery were all hidden behind hatches and thick metal housing. A door opened, and the six stepped into the chamber, which consisted of a raised floor that looked like it could glow, with glowing wall panels all around and tubes attached to the top of the ceiling, which lined up with markings on the surface. On the wall near the door was a small control panel.
The Rigellian in charge, named Dron Rago and with the equivalent rank of sergeant, said, "Once we get word from your bridge, each of you will have to stand inside the circles so that we can use the transporter."
"Does it hurt?" Yuen asked.
"You might feel a slight tingling sensation, but that's normal. Also, when the transporter process starts, your body will be momentarily paralyzed. That's intentional, since it is not good to be moving when the process starts. You might also feel a little disorientation due to vision effects. I'm used to it, but you might want to close your eyes until the tingling sensation disappears."
"How many times have you gone through this transporter?"
"Many times, too many to count."
"And it always works?"
"I haven't known any to fail. I came on board your ship using this very unit, so it is fully functional and will work."
"Relax," Quirk said. "Who knows. We might still be Starfleet officers when this sort of transporter becomes normal."
* * *
The group of ships approaching Rigel XII moved in an erratic fashion, forcing the few Orion ships to spread out since they had no idea where the group would drop out of warp. Weisser was leaving it for the last possible moment since while the ship was at warp, the Orions had no realistic chance of attacking them. Hall was watching the tactical displays, and noticed that the Orions were attempting to converge on the Atlas, anticipating that it would be the most dangerous ship in the force.
"Sir," Weisser started. "I'd recommend the Spot Manoeuvre."
"I was thinking the same thing," Hall remarked.
Ngamboq asked, "What's this Spot Manoeuvre?"
"Those Orion ships are going to attempt to block our approach to the planet by assuming that we're going to drop out of warp and approach them. The Spot Manoeuvre, named after a man during the Romulan War who came up with the idea, is to not drop out of warp, but to keep on going and loop around the planet and come out on the other side." Hall checked the display beside him, which showed, in addition to ship positions, the globe of Rigel XII, including the dilithium facility. The location was almost on the other side of the planet, so the ship could loop around the planet and come in over the facility without having to go through half an orbit. This was one of the reasons why the Atlas picked this particular approach course.
The Rigellian woman asked, "Does this manoeuvre actually work?"
"It should, at least the first time. Notice how they're bunching the four ships."
"We should then spread our attack ships to cover those vessels and not make it easy for them to track you."
"Yes, but there's no need for them to draw heavy fire."
"One minute," Weissler said.
"Set a course for the Spot Manoeuvre."
"Course laid in."
"Hold steady."
Ngamboq was not sure about this Spot Manoeuvre, but she had to relent to the fact that the crew of this ship had just fought a war with some unknown enemy, and they were using tactics and techniques developed in that war. She just did not like the idea of the high-speed manoeuvres that they had to pull. On the viewscreen, Rigel XII, showing mostly dark side, was looming ever larger, but without magnification, the Orion ships were not visible. The sensors showed them, and how they were retreating, waiting for the Atlas to drop out of warp.
"Thirty seconds."
Looking towards his chief engineer, Hall asked, "William, can the ship handle this?"
Gerthe replied, "I believe so. The ships during the war could pull it off."
Hall simply gripped his armrests a bit tighter, and said, "Everyone, brace yourselves."
"Ten seconds."
"Evasive around the Orions!" Hall ordered.
Weisser swung the Atlas through some gyrations that undoubtedly left the Orions completely baffled. They were targeting the big ship, but that ship would not drop out of warp and did not present an easy target. Their weapons stabbed uselessly into space. The Atlas shifted position, and then with a flash, Rigel XII was behind them. Seconds later, the stars streaked wildly across the viewscreen as Weisser turned the ship around and prepared to drop the warpfield. The inertial dampers struggled but could not fully keep up, causing Hall to hear the ominous creaking and groaning of the very spaceframe as the Atlas went through a turn that its designers really did not expect the ship ever to make. Once the stars settled into the background, the planet, now showing mostly the daylight side, dominated the view.
"The Orion ships?"
"Tracking two attackers," Yuniki replied. "I don't have the bigger ships yet."
"Dropping out of warp now," Weisser remarked.
The view on the screen shifted subtly, as the computer-generated view using the infinite speed of light approximation was replaced with a real view. Rigel XII was a desert world, and a cold desert at that. The land was rocky, with extensive bands of sand among the hilly, mountainous landscape. The planet had no oceans and no obvious bodies of water, but in certain locations, bands of green could be seen. Those were plants, which drew moisture from aquifers deep underground, with a component of their structure on the surface to draw in sunlight for photosynthesis. The planet had no surface water, so ice caps and clouds were lacking. The planet was far enough from Rigel that at the equator, the temperature was only twelve degrees, but intense circulation systems meant that the poles were not that much colder. The planet was very windy. As a result, the majority of the dilithium facility was located underground.
"Shields raised," Yuniki announced. "We have incoming." The two Orion raiders swept inwards, and then split up, with each one raking the Atlas with their directed-energy weapons for only about a second before peeling off. Those on board could barely feel it.
"Shields holding at one hundred percent," Gerthe reported.
Abuna added, "I have their shield modulation algorithms lined up."
"Set the frequency of the weapons to match," Hall said. "Target the ship on the right."
The Orion vessel off to their left made a very tight turn, and came at the Atlas again. Weisser angled the ship so that the forward phasers could target the attacker. "Locked on."
The Orion fired first. The pilot must have stepped up the power, since the ship rocked under the impact. Nevertheless, Hall said, "Fire!"
Yuniki hit the trigger icons on the phasers. The bright blue beams streaked outwards, and hit the Orion attacker. Its shields started to glow, and then just as it was trying to turn to avoid the hit, the phasers went through the shields as if they did not exist. Within a second, the small ship exploded into a sphere of growing debris. "Target destroyed," the operations officer remarked.
"The other ship?"
"Is running away."
"Take us towards the facility. Target the automated defense satellites."
"Targeted," Yuniki replied. "They don't appear to be active."
"They might not be until the Atlas lowers its shields, and it will have to to transport the attack parties."
"William, is the targeting programming in the MAM-Torps set?"
"Aye, sir."
Yuniki added, "Forward missile tubes are loaded and ready."
"Fire."
The operations officer hit the trigger switches, which momentarily glowed under her touch. The matter-antimatter torpedoes launched from the forward tubes, with that launch making the ship shake just a little. The four torpedoes streaked outwards, and appeared headed to make a direct strike on the dilithium facility. That prompted a response from the automated defense system, which in its inert stage looked just like shiny silvery balls, each one about twenty metres in diameter. As the missiles approached, the spheres suddenly extended spikes out of the top and bottom. The tips of those spikes started to glow as destructive energy built within them.
"Sir," Yuniki reported. "One of the Aklar-class ships has shown up visually, coming over the limb of the planet. It'll be in firing range in fifteen seconds."
"Stand by."
The automated defense system opened fire on the torpedoes, but their shots missed as the torpedoes adjusted their course. Without warning, the torpedoes shifted the course to an intercept course with the defense satellites. That brought them in the direct line of fire with the satellites, and those satellites did open fire within seconds.
"Now," Hall ordered.
Yuniki transmitted a signal that caused the torpedoes to detonate. Their momentum caused the explosive fury and debris to wash over the satellites, momentarily blinding their sensors. "Helm, take us through." Everybody on the bridge felt tense as the Atlas moved through the space between the disabled defense satellites, as it was certainly possible that they could draw fire. However, the satellites could not recover in time before the Atlas was through. Just one more thing awaited the Atlas, the confrontation with the Aklar-class ship. "One minute to intercept," the officer remarked.
"What's the status on the other ships?"
"Unknown, but it appears that we lost one of the Rigellian attackers. The fate of the second Aklar-class ship is not known."
"Weapons on stand-by."
"Ready."
Hall could feel his heart race, and he could feel the adrenaline pumping into his blood. He was alert, and aware, and very conscious of the risk he was facing. He saw the Orion ship on the viewscreen, and could not help but recall those times when he saw a Romulan ship in a similar position. Although primitive even by human standards, the Romulan ships had a simple grace, almost an elegance, about them, which belied their potential power. The Orion Aklar-class ship had none of that. As seen on the screen, it was clear that several vessels had been scavenged to provide parts for this one, and even then, the ship looked old and worn. Clearly, its better days were behind it.
"It's powering up weapons," Abuna replied. She glanced at the viewscreen. The Orion ship swung through an arc, and fired something. Bright blobs of light streaked outwards at high speed.
"Photon torpedoes!" Ngamboq shouted.
"What?"
Before an answer could be provided, the Atlas was rocked severely, enough that those on the bridge had to reach out and grab their armrests or the console edge to stay in their seats. "Return fire!" Hall ordered. Yuniki fired the phasers, causing the Orion shields to glow. The ship abandoned its plans for a tight arc, but then spun around and approached again. "Fire!" Once more, Yuniki fired. Once more, the phasers reached out and struck the large vessel, but without apparent effects. It did fire its photon torpedoes again, and once more, the Atlas was jolted. Alert tones started to sound.
"Shields are being stressed," Gerthe remarked.
"The Orions?"
"I'm not getting a clear read on them," the first officer remarked. She sounded angry.
The Orion ship moved through a tight arc, and fired its mysterious blobs of light again, but this time, it did so at a greater range and that gave Weisser enough time to steer the Atlas around most of them. Whatever they were, they could not be controlled by the launching vessel after the launch. Yuniki fired the phasers again, and once more caused the shields to glow but without appreciably weakening them. The Orion swung around, and then streaked towards the Atlas, perhaps with its impulse engines at full thrust. For the briefest of moments, Weisser had the feeling that the Orions were going to ram the ship, so without waiting for any orders, he caused the starship to dive downwards. However, the Orion ship turned upwards and fired more photon torpedoes from rear batteries. Those impacted the Atlas hard. Power momentarily flickered, and somewhere, a power conduit overloaded.
"The upper shield is in trouble," Gerthe remarked.
"Captain," Ngamboq spoke up. "That ship is using a Rigellian shielding system. We should be able to scan for the modulation algorithm."
"I got it," Abuna quickly said, as she went to work.
"Transfer it to ops. Yuniki, adjust the phasers accordingly. Helm, try to keep the top side of the ship protected."
"Aye." Now Weisser lifted the ship relative to the planet as the Orion completed its turn and came after the Federation ship. Now it looked like the Atlas was on the run. Weisser glanced at Yuniki, who nodded, which was all the information the pilot needed. Yuniki, the phaser frequency changed to modulate with the shields of the Orion ship, manually targeted the approaching ship and fired. The phaser beams struck directly on the bow, and it caused the shields to glow in a most peculiar way. However, the phasers could not punch through the shielding. Seconds later, the Atlas was struck again with the torpedoes, with more warning tones and other signs of things not going right.
"What the hell?" Hall asked. "It didn't work."
"I believe that the ship might have double shields, and is using the second one slightly out of phase with the first one."
"Can we adjust the beam to get through both?"
"Not likely given the power levels of the beams," Yuniki added.
"A low-level beam could get through," Ngamboq added. "They can modulate quicker."
"A low-level beam of what?"
"Transporter beam," Gerthe suddenly said.
"Even our transporter beams are too strong," Ngamboq replied.
"But not our transporter beam."
"Get on it, William. Helm, evasive."
The Atlas was taking a battering. Weisser took it closer and closer to the planet, and even turned it upside down to protect the weakening upper shield. It became clear that the Orions on board the old ship did not think they could destroy the Atlas on their own, and so were attempting to drive the ship closer to the automated defense satellites. For whatever reason, they could not fire towards the planet. The Orion ship fired, and the Atlas responded with blasts from its phaser banks. Yuniki watched the phaser status displays, and though power was basically infinite, she was getting worried about the phaser cores. They were starting to heat up, and increasingly could not cool down to a safe temperature before being used again. The Orion ship seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of those photon torpedoes. It must have fired about a hundred of them. Five more came towards the starship, and though Weisser got the ship away from three, the other two seemed to hit together.
"The rear shield is starting to waver too," Yuniki reported.
Hall sat there, on the edge of his seat, leaning forward as if that gave him a clearer view of the battle scene. He did not need to issue orders now. The pilot and the operations officer knew what to do. They had been in battles before. Weisser attempted to anticipate the course of the Aklar-class ship and pivoted and turned the Atlas to keep the attacker away from the weakened shields. Although his ship was bigger, Weisser still felt it was very manoeuvrable, while the Orion had to travel more and consume fuel with back-and-forth turns and pivots. Sometimes in frustration, it fired the torpedoes at the shields, rattling the ship but not causing any further weaknesses. In response, the Atlas fired its phasers.
"Stalemate," Abuna remarked.
Ngamboq added, "Orions do not take defeat gracefully. If they have to, they'll ram us."
"I thought as much."
The Orion suddenly streaked forward again. "Oh damn!" muttered Weisser as he fought with the controls, putting the ship into a brief roll. The Aklar-class ship got off several torpedoes at close range, impacting the forward and lower shields. The ship was rocked hard enough that Yuniki lost her seat and ended up on the deck. Again, Hall could hear the groan of the spaceframe under the load. He had no idea of the status report on the shields right now. Instead, he saw on the sensor display the desperation manoeuvre that the Orion ship was pulling, moving virtually perpendicular to the Atlas with a move so severe that the inertial dampers could not possibly have held. Weisser saw what the Orion was going to do, and tried to turn the ship again, but it was too late. One photon torpedo hit the upper shield at an extreme close range, and that overloaded the shield and caused it to collapse. A loud alarm sounded on the bridge. A second torpedo just missed the hull but had a glancing blow on the nacelle housing of the starboard nacelle. Seeing the course of the ship, Weisser tried his best to hide the failure. "Sir, I don't think that we can hold this."
Hall did not answer immediately, as his intercom sounded. Stabbing at the receive button, the captain said, "Hall here."
"Ready, sir," Gerthe remarked.
"Do it, and hope this works."
The Orion turned and approached the Atlas, and it did so without firing torpedoes. It let the starship fire on it, confident that its shields could withstand the weapon. It was once more going to get close and try another hard-to-defend manoeuvre to get torpedoes launched at the exposed section of the ship. Yuniki, still getting back into her seat and reorienting herself with the console, did not even return fire.
Without warning, a flash of light erupted in the rear of the Orion ship, and within a second, that light expanded to engulf the entire ship, leaving it as little more than a hot cloud of expanding debris. Some of that rattled off the hull and the shields of the Atlas. "Target destroyed," Yuniki announced, more for the automated log recorders than the people on the bridge.
Turning to his first officer, "Any other hostile craft in the vicinity?"
"Negative," Abuna remarked. "The Rigellian troop transports, and Rigellian escorts--at least I hope they are--are approaching."
"Helm, take us to transporter position. I'll need damage reports..."
* * *
"That's the signal," Quirk shouted out. "Lets go! Lets go!" He turned to Rago, who was standing by the controls, and said, "You know where to transport us to?"
"I have the co-ordinates," the man answered. "Are you prepared?"
Quirk gave that a few seconds' thought, and then nodded, hoping that Rago understood him. The man quickly tapped in a sequence of commands onto the control panel mounted on the chamber wall, and then turned to the others. "Do assume your positions." Quirk and the others each stood on one of the lit rings. He looked up, to see that a light source inside the tube above him was coming on, and bathing him in light. He tensed himself, wondered what it would be like to have his body essentially disintegrated into a stream of energy, and left at the mercy of this device to completely reassemble, down to the quantum state of each molecule, at the other end. The technology that could do this, the physics that could allow this, was almost too astonishing for Quirk to comprehend. If this worked, it could we be the ultimate way to get around, to get from a starship to a planet, and vice versa and anywhere else one cared to travel. He just hoped that it did not hurt. Quirk remembered the advice from the Rigellian in charge and closed his eyes and held his body completely rigid. A second later, something seemed to be pressing on him, freezing him in place. He did not panic. This was, afterall, to be expected. Almost immediately, a very light tingling feeling seemed to overcome him, starting on his skin and then moving inward to his core. Then it simply vanished, and the sensation of something pressing on him disappeared as well. Quirk was concerned that the process had stopped, and that something had gone wrong. He opened his eyes--
And realized he no longer stood in the portable transporter chamber on board the Atlas.
"My god," Yuen said softly. "It worked. It actually worked. We... transported."
"Don't dwell on it," Quirk said, tossing aside whatever he was thinking just a few seconds ago and concentrating on the mission instead.
He looked around. The six of them had rematerialized in a corridor of some kind. It was large, and the floor was made of a rock-like material that looked well-worn in places. The walls were battered and marred, and coated with a fine layer of grit. Clearly, this was some kind of vehicle tunnel, and it looked to be used on a regular basis. Despite that, the air was still a little musty, and temperature a bit less than their liking.
Rago gestured for the group to follow. Yuen activated his combat tricorder, a small solidly-built device that was mounted on his arm, and scanned for lifeforms. "I'm reading a number, Orions approaching, at the cross-corridor." Almost immediately, the group moved up against the walls, and eased their way towards the support pillars that would provide a little cover. "They're approaching carefully," the young officer said. "About ten metres down the corridor to our left." The Rigellian leader stepped around the pillar, and took a few silent steps towards the corridor intersection. As he did, he withdrew something from a pouch on his uniform. To Quirk's eyes in the dimness, the object looked to be nothing more than a rubber ball perhaps no more than three centimetres in diameter. Rago even threw it, bouncing it off the far wall and down the corridor. A few bright green bolts streaked out of the corridor and slammed into the walls, causing the humans to instinctively step back. At the same time, a bright blue flash erupted from the corridor, accompanied by a whoosing sound. The Rigellian stepped forward, and was not greeted by green bolts. Quirk and the others followed. They found four Orion soldiers, in their armour, sprawled on the ground.
"A stun grenade," Yuen remarked, as he studied the scene with his tricorder. "They're just unconscious."
"Remove their weapons," the Rago remarked, as he himself took the nasty-looking directed-energy rifle from the soldier. The weapon was dark and mean-looking, a heavy piece of metal with a number of switches and glowing indicator lights. The alien tossed that into a heap, and then stripped the man of a sidearm and a dagger. The other Rigellian and Mack stood guard as the weapons were removed and dumped in a heap in the centre of the corridor. Rago adjusted the setting on his weapon, and fired on the heap on the floor. The mass of metal and composites and plastics was quickly reduced to a molten, smoky mess. "Lets proceed. We have to get down this access tunnel, and from there, we can disrupt the power supply that feeds the shielding on the facility. At that point, we can then start transporting out the dilithium. The rest of the troops will be used to secure the facility. Our mission is only the storage area."
"Okay, lets go. Yuen?"
"All's clear."
The four Orions that they had encountered were guarding a climbing ladder that led up a couple of levels. Rago took the lead, with Quirk following. When they were about halfway up, Yuen shouted out, "More Orions in the passageway above."
"Damn," the security chief said.
"Keep moving!" Rago yelled out, and the group kept on climbing. The Rigellian reached the hatch first, and asked, "How far away?"
Yuen said, "Six metres, three, coming from the direction we're facing. They're moving cautiously, but I think they know we're here."
"That's understandable. Keep some attention down below. More could be coming from that direction." Rago reached the top of the ladder. He did not use the controls that opened the hatch. Instead, he popped open a small hatch underneath the controls, and used a manual lever to open the hatch just a little. Then he changed the emitter angle on his weapon by ninety degrees and extended the barrel of the weapon through the opening at a ninety degree angle. With that, he opened fire. All of them could hear a sharp, screaming sound. Several green bolts whizzed by overhead, but none came close to Rago. He returned fire, slowly turning the weapon from side to side, until he heard another sharp scream. With that, Rago opened the hatch all the way and all but jumped out and rolled, a manoeuvre of such power and grace that Quirk knew no human could duplicate. Nevertheless, he did follow the Rigellian to the top of the ladder, just as Rago said, "All's clear."
The others quickly assembled at the upper level. This was a short corridor, with walls made of formed stone, and more brightly lit than the corridor below. At each end were large, heavy doors that were now sealed. Quirk quickly spotted the three Orions, who laid sprawled on the ground, again stunned. Once more, they collected weapons and destroyed them, but Quirk could not help but notice that two had suffered rather serious injuries to their legs. They had on boots, but the energy bolts from Rago's weapon had torn right through them. The feet were almost burned off. Rago explained, "Notice the devices on the arms and chest and back and legs. That's armour, powered armour, pretty flexible and strong, definitely not our technology. They acquired it from somewhere. It'll stop full-power shots from my weapon, and probably yours too, for a few seconds."
"To give them time to move and return fire?" asked Quirk.
"Yes. They're just vulnerable in three positions, the lowest part of the leg and the feet, the face and the hands. Shooting at their feet is effective in this situation, since a soldier that can't stand is a soldier that can't fight."
"It seems cruel," Yuen remarked.
"What's cruel is what the Orions do to us if they capture us. Once the rest of the troops arrive and secure the facility, we'll put the Orions on a freighter and send them to their planet."
"Of course. War is never nice."
"No, it isn't," Rago agreed. "This way. We should experience no further resistance."
The Rigellian walked towards the door, with the others behind him and hanging close to the walls to allow them to cover both directions. Yuen suddenly shouted out, "Stop!"
Rago did, and turned, asking, "What?"
"The door is booby-trapped. Sensors are located there... and there." He pointed to locations high on the wall that apparently held nothing that Rago could discern with his eyes. "Microfine lasers are embedded in that metal band, and they're triggered by the sensors. Approach within half a metre of the door, and the lasers will literally slice you in half."
"Orions have not been known to do that."
"But they have now." Yuen and Quirk took up the point positions, and adjusted the beam setting on their phase rifles to the tightest value. They targeted the sensors and fired, with only a brief, second-long burst providing a surprising series of sparks. Despite destroying the obvious sensors, Yuen scanned again, while Quirk stepped forward, and reached out with his rifle to tap at the door. He successfully got the tip up against the door and tapped it.
"We got that one."
"But it duplicates on the other side," Yuen remarked.
Another of the security officers, Wayne Hamaalou, asked, "How do we get through that?"
"According to the scans, the sensors are on opposite sides of the wall, but adjacent, and are fed by the same power conduits. However, the metal separating them is dense and appears to have some properties in common with structural integrity fields, likely part of the security system here."
"So we can't blast through?"
"We'd need a lot more fire power."
Rago stepped forward, saying, "You did say that the lasers actually fire a half metre from the door?" Yuen just nodded. "Is that true on the other side too?"
"Yes."
"If somebody could go through the door, and then stay within a half metre of it, he could fire on the sensors on the other side."
"Fifty centimetres is not a lot of room to play with," Quirk remarked.
Yuen spoke up, "I think it's enough, sir. I've got the lightest build of everybody here. I should fit."
Quirk knew that time could be a factor here, and so quickly said, "If you feel you can do it, Trevor, go ahead. Dron, can you open the door?"
The Rigellian stepped forward and entered a few commands into the panel. The door opened silently and smoothly. It was a rather thick door, and opened into what looked almost like some kind of engineering system, with conduits and pipes and what looked like generators and machinery that Quirk could not identify. The sight reminded him of the time he led a team to break into the engineering deck of a Romulan starbase to plant explosives.
Yuen stepped forward, scanning the route ahead quickly. He could not detect the lasers, but knew that they were there. He stopped when he was even with the door, and put down the phase rifle and removed his sidearm instead. With only fifty centimetres to work with, he would not have the room to easily aim a rifle, but the much smaller phase pistol was easier to hold and aim in a cramped environment. Yuen, trying to control his breathing and fight down nervousness, stepped over the band of metal that formed the door track. He could not feel or hear and he definitely could not see the lasers, but he was sure that they were on. He moved carefully sideways, quite aware that from front to back, he was about twenty centimetres thick, and so had just thirty to play with. Turning his shoulders or slipping could be dangerous. He carefully moved along the doorframe track until he was against the part of the door that still extended beyond the frame. Pressing his shoulder blades into the door, and the wall beyond the door, gave him an accurate gauge of his position. He got as close to the side wall as possible, and looked up to aim the pistol, even while holding it against his chest. He fired once, and missed, but used that to gauge his aim. He fired again, and still missed, as he did on the third shot too. Aiming a weapon like this was not easy, he realized. At least none of his fellow officers were making light of his targeting difficulties. However, the fifth time was a charm. The beam hit the carefully-hidden sensor, and produced a stream of sparks. Yuen almost shouted to himself, "Don't flinch!" He did not want to lean forward now. He carefully remembered how he held his weapon, and then just as carefully moved across the opening to the opposite wall, always aware of his situation and not letting up on his concentration. When he got off his third shot, the sensor was hit and destroyed.
Quirk moved forward and risked his phase rifle again by waving it where the lasers would appear. Nothing happened. He took the bold chance and stepped through, and into the power generating room. "Good work, Trevor," the security chief said. "We're almost there."
"We are there," Rago said. "Now we have to take out the power conduits to disrupt the shielding. Yuen, scan for any Orions in here."
"None here."
"Ultimately, the Orions are cowards," Rago remarked. "They have no real tolerance for battle unless they have overwhelming odds. Anything less, and they will run away."
Before Quirk could offer his comment, he heard his comm unit chirp. He turned it on and said, "Quirk here, go ahead."
"Asselstine, sir. We managed to get through the booby-trapped doorway and have entered the power room." That was odd, Quirk thought, since he could not hear nor see the other group.
"Any problems?"
"Very minor, sir. We engaged the Orions only once, and briefly. They retreated as soon as we returned fire. We suffered one injury. Cormier was hit in the shoulder, a graze really, but he got transported back to the Atlas and should be fine."
"Very good."
"Sir, I'm worried about one thing."
"What?"
"This was too easy. I mean, the Orions have no stomach for fighting, and the ones we did encounter were only in it half-heartedly."
"And that's a problem?" Quirk asked.
"Yeah, why did the Rigellians need our help? They could've done this a long time ago."
Rago answered that question, "We could do this part, but we could never get through the planetary and ship defenses like your vessel could."
"Oh."
"We should waste no further time, and should get those explosives installed..."
* * *
On board the Atlas, Abuna was putting all of her effort into the sensors, to confirm what she was reading. "Captain," she finally reported, "sensors are indicating that a number of ships have left Rigel VIII and are moving."
"Towards our planet already?" Ngamboq remarked, as she looked up.
"I don't think so. I get the feeling that they're coming here."
"How long?" Hall asked.
"It'll take them hours to get here. I should be more positive of their actual direction in the next five minutes or so, but all indications are that they're coming here, to Rigel XII, maybe to assist in the defense."
"I see," the captain thought. According to the itinerary that the Rigellians had given him, the Atlas should have left the planet by then. He also got the feeling that another reason the Rigellians wanted his ship to be a key part of this raid was that it might not look, at least initially, like the Rigellians were involved. According to what Ngamboq had indicated, the Orions might attack Rigel V if the Rigellians raided the dilithium planet, since they could recover the dilithium eventually, as it remained in the system. On the other hand, if it looked like the Atlas was raiding the planet, then they had to come to Rigel XII first to stop the Atlas from leaving, as it would leave the system once the mission was accomplished. He could see a great risk in the Rigellian troops that were just now starting to beam down into other areas in the facility.
Yuniki remarked, "Sir, I've just gotten the reports in. All three teams have reached their objectives."
"And the light injury to Cormier is the only one?"
"Yes, that appears to be the case. Dr. Torres has already treated and released him."
"Incredible," Hall said.
"Tell me about it," Weisser added. "The Romulan War was never like this."
* * *
On the surface, the humans and the Rigellians worked to drape a type of plastic explosive around the thick pipes that supplied power to the shielding systems that surrounded the most important areas of the facility. As Rago had explained, the explosive force of the devices would be directed inwards, essentially vapourizing the pipes in a flash of light and sparks. Nevertheless, they had to stand at least ten metres away, and as a precaution, took cover behind the abundant machinery and components that filled this rather dark and apparently ill-maintained room. Quirk nervously looked around, seeing so many shadows, and so many hiding places, and so many components that he would not want to fire a weapon into. He could imagine an Orion in virtually every hiding spot, but Yuen suggested otherwise. It was to Quirk's surprise that the Orions had not attempted to enter this location, knowing how vital it was to their holding of the facility. Maybe they did not have the stomach for fighting, as Asselstine had said, or else they did not want to start a fire fight in here.
Mack spoke up, saying, "Sir, the other two teams signal that they're ready."
"Very well. Signal for them to stand by. Dron, it's your call."
The Rigellian leader had the device in hand, and after a slight delay, he pushed the trigger. In flashes of light the devices erupted with a slight snapping sound. On the other hand, for several seconds, streams of sparks and what looked to be some type of gas steamed out of the gaps in the piping. A lot of the lighting in the room also went out. Yuen was scanning as the power conduits were severed, and said, "It appears to be working. The interference field surrounding the storage area has gone out."
"Anybody there?"
"I'm reading six Orions, and about fourty other people, race undetermined."
"Slaves and their handlers," Rago remarked. "Are the Orions located on walkways positioned about six metres above the main floor?"
Yuen checked the readings again, and said, "Yeah, that's where they are."
"We're one level below the storage area," Rago continued. "At each corner is a lift that extends down to this level, and enters the storage area. It also goes up to the second level. However, our aim is to come out firing, just at the second level. It doesn't matter if we're aiming at them or just in the general vicinity."
"And these Orions will also run?" Yuen asked.
"They could, but they could also lose control of the slaves. The slaves are only lightly secured, as they know the only escape is through the inhospitable surface. Those shifting sands undoubtedly have buried a lot of failed escapists."
"But the Orions could be firing at the slaves."
Gripping his weapon more tightly, Rago said, "That would prove to be a very large mistake."
The six gathered by the lift car, and boarded it once it arrived. They waited until they had an indication that the other two groups were also in the lift car adjacent to their area. Once they were ready, they travelled up a short distance in as close to unison was it was possible. The door opened, but the view was blocked by a partition that Quirk found very convenient. It obscured the view from the upper levels of the door, and those on the lift. Perhaps that was intentional, as it allowed reinforcements to be brought in with some cover while they were at their most vulnerable.
"Okay," Rago said, "Lets move." Almost as one, the humans and Rigellians emerged from the lift barriers, and opened fire on the upper-level railing. Bolts greenish-blue and red streaked upwards. One Orion was hit by enough fire that he fell forwards and toppled over the railing. Another had the weapon blown right out of his hands. Quirk watched as one of his bolts directly struck an Orion on his armoured chest, and all it did was to stagger him lightly, like a punch would to an unshielded man. However, that stagger was just enough. Another bolt went straight through the head. The eruption of directed-energy fire had the desired effect on the slaves, who had been bringing in loads of dilithium and stacking them in shipping containers. They panicked and ran in all directions, for the exits, for cover, and almost into the approach of the third group from the Atlas. One Orion did turn and fire into the scattering crowd, and his shot hit somebody, apparently a woman judging by the body shape. The body all but disintegrated into small, charred pieces. However, as Rago did say, that was a mistake for the Orion. Two red bolts and one green one converted on him, his smoldering body falling against the railing and his weapon falling over. One of the slaves, a larger individual with a dark, somewhat more swarthy skin, ran forward and grabbed the weapon. He took the weapon and set it onto a higher setting. He aimed it upwards, and fired into the walkway, sending up yellow and orange bolts that tore through the metal grating and forcing the two Orions still there to escape. They tried to fire on the new attackers, but Quirk and his people had taken cover. Several of the crates had taken hits, but none had gotten close to the newcomers. Finally, the nearer Orion, in his second of exposure to open the door to get off the crumbling walkway, was cut down by weapons fire from several directions.
The room fell into silence, even among the slaves. Yuen said softly, "All the Orions have been eliminated."
"I hope the slaves don't become a problem," Quirk said.
"Only one is armed, though."
Now Quirk looked around the room. It was quite large. The walkways lined the long walls of the room and were some distance apart. The roof was flat and had large sliding panels that undoubtedly opened to the surface and allowed ships to land. The central section of the room was marked off like a landing pad and was empty, while all around were stacks of metal shipping containers, each one about four metres long by two metres tall. They were labelled in the Orion script, but with a limited number of simple characters that suggested to Quirk that the characters were likely numerals. "Is that what I think it is?"
Yuen changed the function of his tricorder and conducted a brief scan. "It is," the man replied.
Quirk walked over to a container, and quickly figured out how to open the hatches and look inside. He flashed a small flashlight into the opening, and saw that light reflected back in a myriad of sparkling colours. Yuen peered into the container as well, and said, "An engineer's wet dream."
Rago, standing nearby, asked, "What is that? How can dreams be wet?"
"It's a long explanation," Quirk cut in. "Suffice it to say that this is enough dilithium to give the Federation a fleet of ships for a century or so."
"We must return as much as we can to your vessel." The Rigellian took out some small tags from a pocket on his uniform, and started to press them onto the shipping containers. Seconds later, they started to shimmer into a transporter beam.
"One question, though," Yuen asked, facing Rago.
"Yes?"
"Why would the Orions stockpile all of this dilithium? If they have it, why don't they sell it?"
"Orion pride is a little hard to understand at times. They believe they are stockpiling for the day they can return to their former glory. They keep producing it even though they don't need it and do not want to sell it because they have the slaves and have to keep them working." Four more of the tagged containers disappeared into the transporter beams. "It is such a waste, afterall."
"Yes."
Asseltstine approached the security chief, and said, "Sir, I've gotten the reports. The Rigellian troops have started to transport down, and have moved through the slave-holding areas, apparently liberating them. They met some resistance at the control centre, but already, the Orions are starting to discuss the terms of their surrender."
"It was an easy mission," Quirk remarked.
"That it was."
* * *
"Captain," Yuniki started, "The latest reports indicate that the Rigellians have almost total control of the facility. They're disarming the Orions and are preparing to send them off on one of the captured transport ships. The slaves are going to be freed."
"Good," Hall remarked.
"The Rigellian transporters are working at full speed bringing dilithium on board. Apparently it has all been mined and processed and stored in shipping containers, simply to keep the slaves busy, even though they have no market or use for the stuff."
"Then the Orions won't mind too much if some gets used," Ngamboq remarked.
Before Hall could respond to that, the intercom beeped. He pushed the receive button, and saw on the small screen the smiling face of his chief engineer. He was holding up a rather large and neatly faceted piece of a crystalline substance. "Captain," Gerthe said eagerly.
"That's dilithium?" Hall asked.
"Yeah, this is incredible. I've never seen dilithium of such purity and density. This is incredible stuff. This crystal here could take the Atlas to warp eight--if the warp converter were large enough to house it and we had enough pickup coils. Nevertheless, I'm sure that I can fashion a smaller piece to replace what we have and that could get us to warp six, maybe even warp six point five."
"That's not something to do now, since we'll need the ship at full readiness for when the Orions come."
Ngamboq spoke up, saying, "We will not be staying here when the Orions come. We must return to the homeworld and begin using the dilithium to power up our systems there. Undoubtedly, the Orions will come there."
"But what about the Rigellian forces that have landed? We can't leave them without support."
"With dilithium on board, the troop transports will become more effective vessels to defend the forces here. Our purpose is to get the dilithium back to the homeworld."
"Of course," Hall remarked. He just hated the thought of abandoning the Rigellians, although he knew that the Rigellians wanted to get the dilithium back to their planet as soon as possible. The soldiers undoubtedly were briefed on what would be expected of them on this mission. It was just that during the Romulan War, Earth forces would leave nobody behind. It just seemed wrong. Of course, the Atlas officers down there would be returning to the ship before departure and would not be among those left behind. "Sachiko, how much dilithium have we transported on board?"
"Sixteen shipping containers, each one approximately four by two metres. There are delays getting those containers out of the transporter chambers and far enough away that another load can be beamed in."
"Shipping containers?" asked the captain. "How much dilithium is down there?"
"Quite a lot," Ngamboq continued. "The slave labour continues to work, even if all the Orions could do would be to stockpile the production."
"Well, we'll continue to transport up this dilithium until we can carry no more, or the Orions get too close, or if it looks like another task force is setting out for Rigel V..."
* * *
Quirk was losing count. Either thirty-two or thirty-six containers had been transported back to the Atlas. The only problem was that it was upto ten minutes between transports, and Quirk suspected that they were having trouble moving the containers and finding places to store them once they were on board the ship. In the meantime, several of his officers had accompanied the Rigellians as they conducted searches of the facilities and took care of the slaves. Yuen and some others had investigated the processing planet, the mines themselves and even the control centre once the Orions had surrendered it. The remaining security officers were patrolling the storage area or guarding against any Orions sneaking in from unseen or hidden approaches. It was all very mundane.
Rago, in constant communication with his subordinates, approached Quirk, and said, "I believe that it is time that you recall of your people. They will be returning to the ship shortly. From what I have been told, the Atlas will transport one more group of containers. That will the fourty in total. At that point, the ship will have to return to the homeworld."
"I see," Quirk said. He set his communications gear to contact all the humans at once, and gave out the simple order. "All personnel, return to establishing point one. It's our exit strategy now." Almost immediately, the officers began to return to where Quirk had been standing.
"Commander Quirk," Rago started. "It has been a pleasure to serve with you. Although your kind does not look like a warrior race, you have demonstrated competence that we have rarely seen in other aliens. You even showed us some things that we did not know. I hope that in the future, the Federation and my people will have cordial relations, and it's possible that we might even join this Federation should it expand in our direction."
Quirk hated to hear compliments like this, since it went against his military training. He and his people were simply showing what they had trained for, and what they had done before. He asked, instead, "I gather that you'll be staying behind."
"I'll be in charge of Rigellian forces here until a permanent force is established, and until the government decides what to do here. I'm not sure we want to run it, but we don't want it to fall into Orion hands again."
"Well, good luck then."
"That appears to be another of your phrases that, when translated literally, seems to lose something in my language. Nevertheless, I believe that the sentiment was positive."
"You could say that." The security chief heard his comm unit chirp, so he turned it on and said, "Quirk here."
"Commander," Yuniki said over the earpiece. "The captain wishes to begin the return journey to Rigel V, so we're taking on board one more set of shipping containers. Then you'll have to return. You should gather your people together."
"I've already given the order. I had them at various locations in the facility, gathering first-hand information on what goes on here."
"Understood. Be prepared to be transported back onto the Atlas shortly..."
Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
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