14-10
Posted on Oct 20, 2014 @ 12:15am by Lieutenant JG Kyle Calhoun & Sardak
Edited on on Oct 20, 2014 @ 12:15am
Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave
“14-10”
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Location: EARTH
SD: 2.141019
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The lights in his office has been all but extinguished and the windows dimmed to allow only the slightest hints of light from the outside to grace the interior surroundings. It was neither Sardak’s desire or tendency to embellish anything dramatic looking or brooding; but, at this moment he was trying to nurse wounds that he could not yet see within his own organization. What he had told Maverick was quite true, he was fully aware of the inconsistencies that were appearing in his organization, unfiled reports here, non responsive agents there; but, through the chaos an organized pattern had emerged and it was one that he intended to follow.
The vulcan had never been one to call in “favors” or even try to seek assistance for any matter; but, this unseen hand as he began to refer to it had forced him into a position that he was not yet quite ready to be in. Slowing spinning in his chair until facing the monitor before him Sardak knew of only one thing that he could do; but, accomplishing the feat was no simple task. There were many that he could call on that would jump at the opportunity to assist; but, their eagerness left a weary question in his heart.
“Computer open a secure channel to surplus depot Alpha Three Five, priority message address to quartermaster Grain,” Sardak stated before turning his chair back to the adjacent wall.
Within moments a chime was heard emitting from the monitor before the screens display illuminated the darkened office, {{Hello? Who’s calling, this is Quartermaster Brel. Is anyone there?}}
“Brel? That name does not suit you at all,” Sardak stated remaining in the same position he was once the conversation started not looking at the screen and not allowing his display to see him.
The male Bajoran’s face began to show signs of frustration, “this name is a family name given me in honor of my ancestors. If you have business with the depot please make it known otherwise I will report you for misuse of communication channels.”
Spinning in his chair quickly grabbing the sides of the desk staring straight into the monitor Sardak looked the man square in his eyes, “Don’t quote threats to me Grain that I gave you long ago. To forego any of the usual denials, Grain, yes I know it’s you due to the reasoning that this communication was coded for Quartermaster Grain which means you pass the verification to open it; and, secondly I know fully well your “ancestors” as you claim them are no more real than your Bajoran appearance. Don’t try to fool the one that gave you the new life you so coldly use and do not deserve.”
The man stepped back both physically and mentally as the image before him was one that he never expected to see again, {{ what is it that you want?}}
Sardak slowly sat back before hitting a sequence into the computer terminal, “the request has been encoded; and, before you ask yes one is to be stripped the other merely moved to these coordinates and left.”
Reading over the request quickly “Brel” shook his head, {{this wont be simple.}}
Sardak smiled in the darkness of his office, “they never are Grain; but, you have a flare for impossibility especially when this makes us even.”
With that Sardak closed the channel as the man’s face flashed a sense of excitement and curiosity at the same time. Grain had been waiting almost fifty years for the vulcan that gave him a second chance to call in the favor that he extended and that day was finally here. Sardak sat back in his chair before chuckling to himself and closing his eyes.
Moments passed and it was almost peaceful; but, Sardak had been listening waiting for the moment to speak, “I do believe that you had informed me that neither of you would grace my office again.”
Standing there in the dim light were two figures shrouded by the shadow neither moving or speaking only listening. Sardak smiled before turning to face the duo his feathers shadowed by the very light that filled the room. It was as if an intense game of chicken was being played and neither side was willing to give; but, Sardak had no time to waste he had to move forward.
“Care to explain what you are doing here, in what you called the last place on Earth you’d ever come back to, Mr. White,” he questioned looking to the taller of the two gaining no response, “No? What about you Ms. Black?”
The two did not move but spoke almost in unison, “we want back in.”
Sardak’s face changed with a bit of caution and shock, “the game has changed.”
“We know, and have experienced it first hand,” the two stated.
Smiling Sardak nodded, “so its you that the authorities are looking for. I recognized your handy work there. Might I ask why?”
Stepping forward the two sighed, “too close to home.”
“You mean to close to your daughter,” Sardak smiled, “and her boyfriend?”
Neither moved just watched as Sardak stood to his feet before lifting the lights slightly, “well Mr. White and Ms. Black what to do with you? Or should I say Mr. and Mrs. Warren?”
As the two stood there Sardak took a deep breath before sliding a padd closer to the edge of his desk, “Go to these coordinates, there is a vessel being taken there. See to its refit and inclusion to our inventory and its yours to use. Oh, and personal touches are warranted.”
Gerald Warren nodded stepping forward taking the padd and looking over it before putting it into a pocket of his clothing. As the two took a deep breath and turned Sardak lifted his finger, “tsk tsk, leave the way you came.”
As the two disappeared with the familiar sound of a hologram dispersing Sardak rubbed his temple before activating his communication panel, “Alex, please can you come here.”
As Alex stood up from behind her desk and moved towards the door as if being awoken like a sleeping beast Sardak’s office returned to life. The lighting returns to normal, window tinting returns to normal, and all panels and communications that are classified vanish as if never existing. Alex walks through the door with a padd and smiles to Sardak before taking a standing position in front of Sardak’s desk due to the lack of seating in the room.
“Yes Mister Secretary,” Alex stated standing by.
Sardak stood slowly before smoothing his clothing, “Alex I’ve had a request to take part in a diplomatic contact with the Pnaran people. As a measure of good faith I would like to take a derelict ship from Surplus depot Alpha Three Five. The ship is currently registered as USS ALAMO NCS-34358, ambassador class. Please fill all the necessary paperwork, forms, and requests and bring them to me.”
Alex stopped and looked up, “to you sir?”
Nodding Sardak sighed, “time is of the essence and I intend on taking this to the necessary individuals myself.”
Nodding Alex finished her notations, “I will begin the process of getting a meeting with Secretary Martine.”
Sardak would have smiled at the girls perception if he would allow himself to portray his true emotions at this moment; but, he restrained it as he did with others, “very good.”
Sardak walked down the hallways nodding a nod of respect to those that would offer the gesture first and stopping to only share a quick pleasantry to those that seemed intent on doing so. It was his intention and his purpose to not show the desperate need that he had for the current purpose of his trip to turn in his favor. Holding the padd behind his back Sardak closed his eyes before stepping into the main area of the Secretary of Starfleet’s office.
“Goodmorning I believe I have a few moments of Secretary Martine’s time,” Sardak stated.
The pert secretary wasn’t sure, but a quick check of the schedule saw his appointment had been arranged. “Go right in,” she offered.
MC was slightly reclined in her chair, enjoying a sizeable cup of coffee. The duty-bound insomnia was a hard mountain to climb. “Sardak,” she said with a restrained surprise, sitting upright. “Did I forget a meeting?”
“No, it was a meeting you did not have until a few minutes ago,” he said brusquely.
“Well then, be my guest.” She motioned for him to have a seat. “I need a distraction.”
He inclined his head knowingly. The issue of the PHOENIX was all over Paris and everywhere else- much like the CENTURY’s arrival had been a few weeks earlier. And the brunt of the attention was focused on Martine and her decision to release the ship, calling in favors nobody knew the French Canadian woman even had.
And now it was his turn to ask something of her, albeit much less benign.
Nodding once Sardak stepped forward and handed the padd over before taking a deep breath, “I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible. My request is simple and, yes I know that there is a proper channel; but, as you will undoubtedly see by skimming the request I have been summoned to be a part of a diplomatic mission with the Panaran people and as a result i’m requesting to have a derelict and stripped hulk of an ambassador class ship released to me as a “gift”.
“Remind me again of the Panarans?” she said as she browsed the request.
“They are generally a xenophobic people, so less is known of them than several other races. “
“Technologically advanced?”
Sardak wasn’t sure how much to reveal to the Secretary of Starfleet and decided to keep it close to the vest. “They are, in a most peculiar sense… it warrants a friendly gesture on my part… on our part.”
Martine pursed her lips in thought. “The risks are minimal, as the interior of the ship, including its computer core, are already completely removed.”
Sardak nodded, “I have arranged for a ship from my department to serve as a tug and tractor the hulk to the border of their space. I will be aboard the vessel ensuring delivery and making contact with the Panarans. I will not need a crew as my vessel will be manned by a small group of my temporal investigators.”
Sardak’s internal thoughts were going chaotic as best as in his mind he could hear his foot tapping; but, his composure on the outside was calm as a gentle lake. Standing there he waited and watched the secretary’s action to give proper reactions.
“How long will you be gone, and will someone be assuming your planetside duties while you’re away?”
Shaking his head Sardak held up a hand as if to reassure her, “my duties are not so extensive that I can’t monitor them from my ship. I only have a few running assignments and to be quite to the point madam secretary while I do find your concern for my duties certainly admirable, my department doesn’t report to you.”
Martine smiled, but her eyes stayed hard. “Neither of us would be a good emissary of President Moray if we didn’t sometimes ask questions beyond our responsibilities.”
“I concur and you imply offense where none can be taken Madam secretary,” he stated.
“None was implied,” she responded in kind. Normally Sardak wouldn’t have her so flummoxed, but she certainly wasn’t at the top of her game today.
Taking a small breath Sardak began to try and wrap this up, “Madam Secretary i only have a few moments of your time today. Is there by any chance we may be able to conclude our discussion to begin preparations for the mission?”
Marie-Claire demurred. “Certainly.” She signed off on the request with a flourish. “Safe journey.”
Nodding Sardak took the padd and submitted the information to be filed and sent off making preparations and at that moment sending a flurry of people into action. Turning and heading to the door Sardak stopped mentally noting her flushed and flustered reactions and mood before turning back.
“Madam Secretary, please feel free to assume. What is it that you humans say, “I owe you one,” he stated before leaving the room.
================
Location: Northwest Territory, Australia, Earth
Scene: Small Cottage
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The house was small. Just a single bedroom, and a combined sitting /dining area and a galley style kitchen off to the side. Even with the size though it was completely modern, with all the conveniences that life in the 25th century allowed. The house was located in the wilderness, about 15 kilometers from the nearest town. It had been built originally 300 years ago by an ancestor as a hunting shack; and then renovated multiple times since then. The house belonged to his father. Well technically it wasn’t his father, but close enough for a dimensional refugee. Finn had left the house to him personally by name. Not Jaxsper, not the now deceased Christopher, and not Joshua.
The authorities had contacted him about a year ago, that Finn hadn’t returned from one of his many walkabouts. At the time he had been on the far reaches of the Federation, playing a event out near the First Federation. This was the first time he’d gotten back here. The house had been put into stasis when his father had been declared presumed dead. A part of him never thought of Finn as dead, but with recent events, it was a definite possibility. The man was definitely vocal about his free thinking and wandering spirit ways, and may have upset the wrong person somewhere.
LJ was feeling alone. His adoptive family scattered to the winds, out of touch with him. Practically having abandoned him. His Mum was on bajor, and was ecstatic when he had called her alerting her of his and the other’s safety. She wanted him to come out to her, but after the ordeal, he had respectfully declined, citing responsibilities on Earth. In all actuality he didn't want her to know that he had killed another, with his own hands, in cold blood no less.
The killing bothered him still. In a way he felt the same way as just before he walked through the portal several years ago. Like he was suicidal, but in a way like he’d attempted and survived but didn't. It tumbled around in his head over and over again making less and less sense the more he thought about it.
Someone knocked on the door. The sound startled him. He approached the door cautiously, his hand on a phaser he had nicked from Jax’s ship before he departed. He checked through the glass in the door to see a man, somewhat tall, dressed in semi formal wear, all black. He also had pointed ears. LJ activated the small force field on the door, designed to keep pests out of the house while the door was open, it wouldn't stand up to a full grown person intent on entering, but it might slow them down a little if they didn't know it was there. He opened the door and looked at the stranger before him. “hello?”
“Jaxsper Lawrence? Well I would say the second, or is it the third, or second now. Not really fitting in your situation now is it.”
“I am a Jaxsper. who are you.”
“Sardak.”
“Undersecretary of Temporal Investigations.”
“Just secretary now.”
“You aren't getting your hands on me again. We spent weeks with you poking and prodding and harassing and staring. All in the guise of medical checkups. You’re just lucky we never told my mom what you did to us. Daisyzilla levelling Manhattan to get to you comes to mind.”
“I am well aware of your adoptive mother’s protective side. As you are well aware of why we had to look so deeply into you and your origins. We explained to you then, why.”
“Then explain why you are here. I’m not exactly fond of you, or your department.”
“That is.. unfortunate. I require your assistance in an important matter.”
“You can't afford to pay me to play for your birthday bash or whatever you have cooked up.”
“Quite. Now, if you will allow me inside, and please power down your stolen weapon, I will explain.”
“Fine, get in.” The vulcan crossed the barrier without to much issue. If he felt the resistance at all he didn't give any indication. “Now explain.”
“I do not ask for help lightly. There are events in motion that will change the face of the Federation for a century to come.”
“I’m sure your future self came back and told you all about it over coffee and plomeek soup.”
“Sadly plomeek soup and coffee are not agreeable together. their tastes are… incompatible. No, you know there are events unfolding. You have been a part of them, in a somewhat minor way. But you are in a unique position, as 1: you are already involved. 2: you know of my department, and 3: you know of or are at least familiar with the next leg of my mission.”
“Come again?”
“My aim is to seek the assistance of the P’Narran Empire.”
“Field Colonel Hunter Williams is your proposed in-road.”
“I can see why your counterpart chose the life of an Intelligence Officer. Quick to pick up on the broader situations. Yes, I hope to approach him, with a gift, to secure an alliance of sort with his people.”
“Better be one hell of a gift.”
“It is.”
“And where do i come in?”
“You would be an observer. and a spokesperson. Your mother was on friendly terms with him, and he knows of you somewhat. and you know of him.”
“I know enough to not insult his people, and to stay far away if they don't want you around. Ahh thats also why you want me there. You, he could just kill with a thought if he so wished. me on the other hand, he may let go if they find your offer insulting or treacherous. I will assist if i can, tell me when and where to go, i will be there at the right time.”
Sardak smiled, "the time is now and conveniently right."
With that the duo quickly vanished in an almost purple transporter beam before appearing aboard ship. Standing on the transport pad in the smaller than normal bridge Sardak looked around before being approached by a andorian female wearing what appeared to be a normal suit or outfit. Taking a padd from her Sardak nodded and motioned with his head towards the young man, “please locate our guest a set of quarters and find him some proper clothing.”
The andorian looked up from the young man to Sardak then back again, “you don’t mean?”
Sardak pressed his thumb to the padd and nodded, “yes, and do you have a problem with following my lead and orders now?”
The young andorian woman straightened up, “no sir!”
Nodding Sardak turned to Jaxsper, “well then, welcome to Temporal Investigations.”
Sardak didn’t seem to enjoy sitting in a chair or any form of seat while on the bridge. The layout was not like anything that was currently being used in Starfleet as there didn’t seem to be a chair for a Captain or whoever was in charge. It had been several hours since the ship had left Earth; and, now they had arrived at a surplus depot. No one really knew what was happening, the main story was that Sardak had been asked to make diplomatic contact.
“Helm, take us to the hulk once in range notify the quartermaster, lock on a tractor beam, and set a course for the P’Narran border,” Sardak said moving towards a door in the corner of the bridge leading to a ready room.
It only took a matter of minutes before the hulk was in toe and the ship was off in a slipstream. Sardak knew that this was a delicate if not potentially volatile situation that could find he and his whole crew, not to mention, the Federation in a war. There was only so much data on the P’Narran people; but, there was an abundance on his main target. Reading over reports, logs, and anything that had the name Hunter Williams he hoped to understand all that would be needed.
It took a few hours even at slipstream for Sardak and his crew to arrive approximately three thousand kilometers from the edge of the Federation/P’Narran border. In that time the hulk had been positioned between the border and Sardak’s ship.
====
Pnarran Governmental Ministry
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“Lord Williams.”
Hunter looked up to see the Defense minister entering his office. “Lord Falkner.”
“There is a Federation ship hovering near our border. It has a derelict in tow.”
“I see, and this has a cause for the council why?”
“Forgive m’lord. I had thought that you would wish to ascertain their intentions personally, as you have had a close relationship with them in the past.”
“Well stated Falkner. I will depart immediately for the Border. Please have the flagship available and waiting.
====
PMV Hatfield
BB-01
====
“M’Lord, we received signal that you would grace us with your presence today”
“Stand easy Denure Gidion. What is the status of the protectorate’s finest?”
“All is well m’lord. A-Level checks were performed just yesterday. Ship is ready.”
“Very well. There is a Federation Starship at our borders, shall we go and greet them?”
“It will be done m’lord.” The younger officer bowed slightly before taking his place at the help controls, and launching the battleship into warp.
====
USS Demetre
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“Secretary Sardak, reading a Pnarran Battleship on an intercept course.”
“They use Battleships as flagships. The Council Lords will command these ships. Its a show of strength, but of respect.” LJ told him. He kept pulling on the black tunic, not used to a uniform. “I would say you attracted attention. Hopefully its not one of the dark aligned Lords. Is there an Identification tag on that ship?”
“Just a registry. BB-01”
“Pnarrans don't identify their ships by name, just registry. It confuses the enemy they think. Odd numbered ships are light aligned, even are dark. When they are close enough, open a channel”
They waited. The only sounds were the sounds of the machinery on the bridge. It took several minutes for the Pnarran ship to approach “Open a channel please”
“Channel open.”
“M’Lord, this is Specialist Lawrence on the USS Demetre. You honor us with your presence, and in kind for granting us an audience, we present you a gift. While old, and in need of many repairs, the spaceframe is superior in size and capability to the older ships you have purchased from us in the past.”
{{Mister Lawrence. It is pleasing to see you again, especially showing proper respect. Before we accept such a gift, we must ascertain as to the reason of your visit. I invite you and your commander aboard my ship so that we may discuss the reason you have visited us this day.}}
“It is as you wish m’lord, we will be with you momentarily. Please know though, the gift is yours whether you agree to our request or not. Just for hearing us out.”
{{Most kind, we accept, and are making preparations for your arrival in 30 minutes}}
The screen blanked out replacing the image of the middle aged Pnarran with the intimidating visage of an older Federation Command Cruiser, turned battleship. “We should arrive no earlier than 5 minutes before the meeting time, but no later than 1 minute two.”
“Seems kind of specific.”
“Earlier would portray desperation, later would be disrespectful.”
“Understood.”
-----
Sardak took in a deep breath as he and his small team materialized on the transporter pad and allowed his eyes to quickly examine the room but kept his head forward. At this particular moment he was following the lead of his newest “investigator”. For Sardak this was the very first time that he had personally met the people behind the name P’Narran; but, he had load of intelligence information, mostly temporal, that he had studied.
Hunter walked forward, wearing his formal council attire, looking a lot like old medevil era robes but cut for function. It looked almost Klingon, but less metallic, and more light shimering fabric that seemed to move. “Secretary Sardak. Mister lawrence, it is agreeable to see you again. Come, to the conference lounge, where we shall have refreshment and discuss why you have approached us”.
The ship had kept its Federation appearance. It was like walking through a museum piece, as the corridors were the same design as the Constitution Refit that was kept in the fleet museum. Everything was pristine, meticulously maintained, down to the directions of the screws holding the deck plates down. The conference room was the same, a throwback to 23rd century design, yet fully restored. Hunter took a seat at the head of the table, and let the others sit down as they wished. In front of them was a rotissery filled with different colored bottles of liquid. LJ selected a green bottle, and poured himself, and Secretary Sardak a glass. “Your hospitality honors us M’Lord. We thank you.”
“You are well versed on our ways Mister Lawrence.”
“After the war, when you returned home from your tour on Gateway, i did much research into your people, and its customs. There are quite a few similarities between your customs and our own old world customs.”
“After the incident with my dark double, I’m surprised you bothered and didn’t swear off of us from fear.”
“No, if anyone knows about having dark doubles, its something i understand greatly.”
“Yes, I heard about your exploits.” LJ looked at him shocked. “You aren’t the only one that did research. I reviewed your files when you approached us. I take it you are not here with the approval of the admiralty. Given your attire, I would surmise Section 31, or Temporal Investigations. If its the former, you have wasted your time, but the latter, you have piqued my interests. Please, tell my why you are here, and what you need of my people.
The meeting continued on for an hour. To say he was surprised, shocked and dismayed was an understatement. “I am appalled. An organization dedicated to peaceful exploration, and mutual cooperation, falling so far so fast. Given you are Time cops, I assume you believe time travelers are at the cause.”
“Perhaps. Several of my operatives have gone missing recently. We know there has been incursions. We don’t know if it was to cause current tensions, or prevent them.”
“Well if they were to prevent them, they failed. The Romulans have launched an all out blitz against your core worlds. Martial law has been declared by Starfleet.”
Sardak looked alarmed. “With respect, I must return to my ship as soon as possible.”
“It is understood. May your specialist remain behind? Perhaps we can broker some aide in the Federation’s time of need.”
“It’s agreed, Mister Lawrence I will have your kit transported aboard. It may be some time before we are able to retrieve you.”
“Thanks fine.” LJ Replied. Given who his adoptive mother was he doubted he would be allowed back within Federation borders anyway. “I will be more useful here. If you run into Captain Jax, please let him know i am out of harms way.”
Sardak nodded and moved swiftly to the transporter room.
====
Three days later
====
It had taken time, and some lengthy arguments, but in the end the Pnarrans had decided to offer safe haven to Refugee ships, that didn’t align with Edgerton’s administration. They would be given refuge, and a place to resupply and repair their ships. They would not be active in what was being deemed a civil war. LJ had been given guest quarters on the ship, but really had little to do at this time. More than once he had thought about trying to contact his family, but he didn’t know where they were, and of they were in hiding he didn’t want to give them away. Instead he wrote to his mother on Bajor, to let her know he was ok, and far from the combat zone.
====
Trill
====
Trill’s planetary council, representative from both the trills and the symbionts gathered within council chambers. As a part of enforcing Martial law, Admiral Edgerton had seen fit to send a Military representative to the trill homeworld. Obvious to them it was a plant to watch them since they had voted no during the referendum.
“This is inexcusable. Out of fear they have thrown away 300 years of history. We want no part of it. We must act now, before more plants show up and try to subvert us.”
“It is agreed then. Have the Planetary Magistrate pick up Commodore Stooge and his staff. Send our ships to turn away any Federation starship coming in. We will eject the commodore, and send him home with a letter for Admiral Edgerton. Trill secedes from the Federation.
====
Earth
====
“Brigadier General Bret Maverick. By order of the Commandant Office of the Starfleet Marine Corps you are hereby promoted to Major General. Congratulations Mav.”
“Thank you sir. Im confused though sir, I haven’t been a flag officer very long. Certainly not long enough for another promotion. “
“Its understandable. But I have a specific position for you. I want you to weed out the rot from the corps. That message you got from Captain Kane, for instance. I want you to take your most trusted men and go to the penal colony in New Zealand. I’m giving you broad discretionary authority to do as you see fit, and use whatever resources you need.”
“Permission to get underway sir?”
“Granted”
===
New Zealand
===
Mav showed up in full military dress at the gates f the facility. Be hind him was twenty of his staff. He had already looked over their official records, and using the Starship’s sensors, there were several prisoners here that didn’t show up on the manifest. The Vulcan warden walked out to greet him, almost jovially for a Vulcan. “General, an unexpected visit. It is agreeable for you to visit now, our repairs are almost complete, and we wont suffer a breach again. Traitors to the Federation should not be permitted free.”
“No they shouldn’t. That is why I’m ordering you to come with me. Colonel T’Prell, for failure to follow due process. For failure to uphold the traditions and honor of the corps, and for reckless endangerment of your prisoners, for kidnapping, and the violation of Federation civil Liberties, you are hereby under arrest pending court martial.”
“Your actions are not logical General, when taken into account my position.”
“We know all about you being the lap dog of Admiral Edgerton. Just to let you know, he wont be invited to your trial. This is an internal matter; Major K’Pec, take the prisoner into custody and stow him away in a segregated cell.” The large Klingon grabbed the Vulcan, and began reading him his rights as they transported up to the Acreman. Mav didn’t trust any prison facility planet side. “Ok , I want this place cleared out. Detain any of the staff in the mess hall, check on all prisoners, cross reference with those on your lists. Verify they are here and why. Move!”
====
4 Hours later USS Acreman
====
The brig cells on the Acreman were bursting. Half the staff had been loyal to Edgerton, and placed there by him. A total of 14 prisoners were recovered in various states of health, that were political prisoners, including Admiral Halloway, who was spitting fire pissed off that he was locked up as a traitor for giving the Phoenix to Kane. Mav had made contact with Heyting, who would meet him out in the Briar Patch, to transfer prisoners and refuges.
{{Bridge to General Maverick}}
“Maverick, go.”
{{General, we’ve tapped into Independent news Services, since the FedCom is now state run, Trill has officially seceded from the Federation}}
“Well damn. Shit just got interesting. On my way up, set a discreet course for the briar patch, and make sure we are cloaked. Engage warp engines as soon as we are clear.”
++++
Fm MGen B Maverick, USS Acreman
To Capt MT Kane, USS Phoenix
Situation dealt with. Please inform Commander Chrichton that the Colonel will never see the light of day again, Further, Trill seceded.
Major General Bret Maverick
SFMC Director of Security
USS Acreman
E: swiften@yahoo.com
====
"ICH leidest weil Ich bin besser"