« Reply #9 on: November 05, 2007, 10:52:49 pm »
How 'bout sum more?
CH. 3
The Feldad Rocketry Field was a wide, flat expanse of former farmland set near to the coast of the Ulad Federation’s East Coast. This installation had been in place for the last ten years as the Fed government vied for the supremacy of space. The Ulads were so close to achieving their ultimate goal of reaching their planet’s moon, Col. Today’s space shot would bring them even closer to this lofty goal, as scientists would see how the moon craft delivery vehicle would function.
Said delivery vehicle was the final stage of a six-stage rocket that dominated the center of the Feldad Field. It was designed to deliver a seventeen ton moon lander into lunar orbit and allow it to undergo its half of the proposed moon mission. If this vehicle, with its current test load weighing eighteen tons, were successful, the proposed moon shot would then be a true reality.
A myriad of hopeful military and science personnel crawled all over Feldad field in anticipation of this success. The mission was destined to launch late today. The vehicle would then go out to an elongated orbit of the home planet, Jobia, launch its test load, then return. Millions would be watching on telecast and listening on radio. Thousands of people would be right here to get up-to-the-minute updates.
Lieutenant Surall’s landing team beamed in amid several of the furthest buildings within the fenced in perimeter of this field. Surall wore a long brown coat and a soft, woven cap over her sharp ears. Like Goodwin, the Vulcan woman had a prosthetic wedge of artificial flesh grafted onto her forehead and a series of slanted slits etched into her cheeks. So long as neither she nor her team was searched, they would pass for Jobians. Plastic coated copies of government security passes hung from both of their lapels. These, also, would bear under a certain amount of scrutiny.
Surall looked to her companion as the effects of transport faded away. Goodwin wore a shorter jacket than Surall. No male Jobians had been detected wearing long coats and it was assumed such might be a female-only fashion. The two of them wore similar clothing of loose, buttoned shirts of cotton and brown slacks. Once assured that they had escaped detection, the lieutenant nodded to the west exit from the path they stood within. There were few people in this section of the base. None had been within easy earshot of their beam-in. Those who might have heard might have attributed the sound to some piece of machinery in the area.
When they emerged from the alley-like space between the small white out buildings, both were treated with an awesome view of the three hundred sixty-foot tall rocket ship these people had constructed. Goodwin whistled aloud at the first sight of the thing, drawing a curious look from Surall and a few Jobians nearby. Goodwin shrugged as they set forth for the center of the field.
Largely, the two of them were ignored. Surall noticed those few who did look their way seemed to take a mild displeasure to their sight. Likely this was some example of racist sentiment among these lesser-advanced people. It was quite common among such species and probably based around the color of her flesh. The individuals who hid their sneers had all been colored as Dawayne, white skinned. She found such bigotry too offensive to be interesting even as a study specimen. She chose to ignore it.
Guards lined the closer perimeter within seven hundred feet of the rocket ship. None but cleared specialists showing their ID cards were allowed past the cordoned off area. The two of them drew to a respectable halt some distance from the craft and looked on as by standers. Dawayne bobbed around on his heels as they stood there in the cold wind. Surall found his nervous activity to be unbecoming, but she noticed several in the vicinity doing similar things to pass the time. It would add credence to their cover, so she did not attempt to correct it.
Her sharp eyes found a lofty building rising above the collected wooden structure in their area. This building had a long, wide observation platform standing out on its face, pointed toward the launching area. This would be an excellent place to take tricorder readings of the launch. At this moment, the platform seemed to be sparsely occupied.
“We should make our way toward that observatory.” She told Goodwin, inclining her face to the place in question. Dawayne looked out that way and gave a nod. They passed massed groups of Jobians, including a throng of media prepping their recording equipment.
Commander Davenport led his own team of explorers down the sidewalk of the small Jobian city they’d beamed down to. A few masses of this planet’s citizens strolled about them, going their own way. The team drew no odd glances or undue suspicion. It seemed as though they had successfully melded into the planet’s culture. So long as no one asked the wrong questions of them, they would maintain this façade.
The populace of this nation wore more anachronistic clothing than that of the people Team One was investigating. Their own, homespun wears were thick and dully colored, reminding the Mississippi native of thicker versions of overalls and jean pants. Most of these people were of a rough cut, knowing much hard labor and extreme cold from the northern climbs. Ronald liked the look of these hard working folks, but would not like to anger one of them. The look of their thick, callused hands told the commander that any one of them would likely tear him asunder with little effort.
The town about them was simple but efficient. Short, wooden buildings lined the streets and pathways. The roads were paved in simplistic tar and gravel material. Naked power lines hung from poles, snaking power through the area from home to home. They saw no obvious police presence, but there was no sign of crime or defacement. There were but a few motor vehicles.
Ron drew his people to a halt at the end of a street and studied the green and brown painted homes about them. Businesses and industry were evident further down the street. That would be their next area to visit. He looked back to his people. “Strange kind of town to put your most advanced power plant.” He commented to them.
Specialist McCoy looked about at the people passing by. She was nervous and timid in these new surroundings. Her behavior could tip the more observant of these aliens off to something amiss. She’d have to calm down. Maybe conversation would lull her into a more stable mood. Ron pressed further in his comment on the reactor. “McCoy, your opinion?”
The young woman’s hazel eyes widened as she realized he expected an answer, but then returned to normal. She knew that if she could not maintain control of herself, Davenport would have no recourse but to send her home. She forced herself to feign an air of calm and ran fingers through her straight combed red hair. “Russia’s first reactors were far removed from highly populated areas to safe guard them from accidental exposure in the event of an accident. Perhaps there is a similar purpose involved here. Endanger as few people as possible while they test their new plant.”
Ronald nodded to himself and looked aside. This idea did make sense, though placing an untested device close to any number of people at all seemed rather barbaric. But then, all the dangers of a new power system had to be tested out…
Security Specialist Dana Montoya eased closer to keep her words between them. She eased a sly smile onto her face to make it seem as though she was having intimate words with her companions. “The nuclear complex is at the far western edge of the city. We noted moderate security outside the plant and surrounding grounds. Night time would be best for a closer inspection.”
“Just how close do we intend to get to that thing?” Kimberly asked with mild anxiety. “Are we going to go inside the place?”
Ron shrugged a bit, leaning against a tall green sign.
“As close as it takes to get a good tricorder scan of that reactor. We’re not going to put ourselves in danger, but the more we find out about their power generating advancement, the better idea we’ll get about how long it’ll take them to reach warp drive.”
“So our peeking in on them like this isn’t just idle curiosity?”
“Not all of it. Though…I do think there is some voyeurism involved in missions like this.”
The three of them looked back down the lengthy street and studied the buildings at hand. Ron pointed to a white, stucco building with a gaily-painted sign on its face. “That looks like a restaurant of some sort. Let’s go sample some local cuisine while we think our insertion over.”
The trio of Starfleet explorers made their way leisurely down the walkway, ignorant of the black sedan pulling up behind them slowly. The driver of the vehicle killed the engine to avoid drawing suspicion to himself and his partner. Their quarry did not turn to look their way, and the two agents looked to one another with a small nod.
***
Commodore Ford looked up from the collection of indigenous clothing that lay on the bench in the transporter room’s prep area. Lieutenant Smith stepped timidly through the hatch from the corridor beyond. He had the same prosthetic modifications on his head and face and carried like disguise under his arm. The look on the kid’s face made the Commodore pause to wonder if Smith was truly ready to beam down to this alien world. His expression was one of intimidation.
“You alright, boy?”
Smith drew up short. The doors whispered closed behind. Ford stood totally erect to examine the junior officer. What had him so edgy? Smith didn’t seem to want to look him in the eye. “I didn’t realize you were coming along…sir…”
Chevy smirked without real amusement.
“Cap’n’s prerogative, son. I get to have some fun too. What’s swirling around in your mind, Noah?”
Smith’s mouth drew tightly as he looked away. Ford was beginning to suspect the kid had found something out that he wished he hadn’t. Smith looked back to Chevis. He bellied up and summoned the courage to speak out. “I’ve…just finished the decryption of our last intercepts from Kovarn.”
“And?”
“It’s in the report I filed. I thought you’d be reviewing it by now…”
“Well…Change of plans. I’m visiting the surface. Been years since I’ve done a mission like this. I haven’t read your report yet…” He looked to the boy, trying to prompt further information from him.
“Well…” Smith took a moment to control his breathing. Whatever this subject was, it was taxing him. “The vessel we observed in the Kovarn system was destroyed. The intercepted reports indicate…that a bomb was used to destroy it just before it went out on a shakedown cruise.”
“Jarn’s got a lot of enemies.” Ford said noncommittally. He knew the kid was smart, and didn’t put it past the lieutenant to have pieced something together. Really, he’d been expecting this eventually. The fact that Smith had done so already showed him just how intuitive the comm officer was. Ford would have to be damned careful to avoid giving the lad any more than he already had…
“Yeah… I wouldn’t have thought much about it ‘cept… You got that civilian comm from the CS Adder…which is also known as the mercenary ship Rattlesnake. The Rattlesnake was comming us from near the Kovarn end of the Tempest. My triangulation gear showed her to be at high warp, heading away from that the storms…”
Ford allowed an easy smile onto his face in an attempt to disarm the lieutenant’s suspicions. “What are you suggesting, Lieutenant Smith?”
Noah dropped his gaze to the deck. He wasn’t any surer of his theory than Ford was about his chances of covering up his actions forever. Ford stepped in close and grasped the young officer’s shoulder. “Go ahead and say it. You might even be right…”
“It…looks like you hired Rex Stevens…to blow up Jarn’s ship.”
The silence hung on the air for several seconds. Finally, the commodore smiled. They were alone in this room. None was around to hear what he was about to say. Smith already had the correct theory in mind. He was not ashamed of his action against Jarn. The man was a cruel murderer and a tyrant. A slave master. And Noah was a good man, worthy of his respect and the truth. Ford was eventually going to have to face the music over this. He wouldn’t lie to a good officer just to stave that off a short time.
“Yeah… I did. That ship would have eventually been set on us and been used to cause innumerable Starfleet casualties. We’ve already seen that the Warden is a serious threat. I couldn’t allow him to keep that ship.”
Smith stared back, wide-eyed in shock over the Commodore’s open candor. He obviously hadn’t expected Ford to admit his actions so easily. Ford studied the kid’s response and body language, wondering what he’d do. The silence was stifling.
“So, Mister Smith. What’s next?”
The kid could now report him to the ship’s XO, who would then be compelled to go through normal channels to deal with the matter. Ford’s career would end there, unceremoniously. He’d be dishonorably discharged and then imprisoned. It would still be worth it. Saving Federation lives from that monster outweighed his career.
Smith suddenly looked up and met the older man’s eyes. There was a sudden strength of resolve in the boy’s countenance. “When we first found that ship…we argued over whether to blow it up ourselves. If we’d had photon torpedoes, we’d have done it then and there. We considered a concentrated phaser barrage. It probably would have got us killed, and it would have botched our recon flight. We botched that anyway… We also would have killed everyone in the area of the construction yard. The civilian casualties among the Ya’wenn would have been very high… Your attack killed just over a hundred soldiers. I’d say it was the better deal…and it didn’t get our shuttle crew killed.”
Ford leaned back and away from the youth with entertained interest. He waited to see if the boy had more to say. When he said no more, Ford prodded a bit. “And you’re saying this to mean…”
Smith shrugged and smiled a bit.
“If I was a commodore…and I had the means to do this to safeguard my people…I probably would have. Or something similar. I’m with you, sir.”
The admission brought a surprising amount of relief to the flag officer. The kid was now a party to a conspiracy, but when the courts finally caught up to Ford, he would be sure to keep the kid out of the fallout. Smith’s loyalty was encouraging.
“Just keep this stuff under your hat. Just knowing about it could spell death to your career, and I expect you to be in that uniform, or one…similar to it…depending on future Fleet fashions…for decades to come.”
Smith smiled and offered a handshake. Ford accepted it, and the two men went about the process of donning their disguises to mingle with the life below. The two of them had forged an unspoken pact. One that would open up future avenues, and likely bring future pains along with it. But for now, they would put it past them and concentrate on a lighter hearted mission.
***
--thu guv!!
