ST: Tal Shiar With Cadet Tuvok �2005

[StarfleetCommand74656]

Star Trek
Tal Shiar
Based on: ST: Voyager, ST: The Next Generation, ST: Generations, ST: Enterprise and ST: The Original Series
2309 (Stardate 12344.7)
�One minute to warp-core breach� intoned the cool female voice of the Starship Khitomer�s computer. The Constitution-class training ship flailed helplessly in deep-space, streaming lambent plasma. Cadet Sherman gripped the helm, fear etched on his youthful features. �Crossing Romulan Neutral Zone now, captain� he bit out. Silence responded, except for the blare of klaxons and muffled bangs.
�Captain?�
It was Cadet Mallory who instead responded, her coronet of auburn hair in disarray, blood streaking her face. �He�s dead, alongside everyone on Decks four through sixteen. We need a way out of this mess- and fast! Where�s the Vulcan?�
�Thirty seconds to warp-core breach�
From behind a bank of erupting conduits, an impassive Tuvok became visible. �We will be in range of a Class-M planetoid in nineteen seconds. Set course 275 mark 8�. Sherman�s fingers flew over the helm display. Tuvok continued to pace the bridge, eyebrows knit, the only sign of displeasure someone of his race and bearing would permit themselves to show. �Computer� he stated. �Prepare for emergency transport procedures on my mark. The Khitomer bucked violently, leaking another gash of glowing protoplasm.
�Ten seconds to warp-core br- br- breach�. Sherman closed his eyes. When a computer started stuttering, you knew you�d had it.
�Ni- ine�
�Eight�
�Seven�
Five decks down, the hull split, and cloying vacuum gushed in.
�Five�
�Four�
�Three�
The countdown was never concluded. A series of shattering, splintering explosions, as metal became fabric which spalled and tore. Tongues of flame fountained from the cracks. In fizzing reports, forcefield after forcefield winked out, and a killing cascade of antimatter flowed forth. Crimson knives slashed the ship end-to-end, as the multiple crashes rose to a cataclysmic crescendo, rings of debris panning out. In the torrent, five matter streams escaped the stricken starship.

Outpost 0278, Romulan Star Empire
Boots thudded, hard, on the Overseer�s marble floor, and black robe whispered and billowed behind. Centurion Kabar bowed deeply, and his superior�s voice stung like a whip.
�So, instead of tractoring the Federation starship (his lips curled around the phrase �federation starship� as if trying the foreign expression for the first time) and containing their corebreach, you allowed a valuable prize for the Star Empire to explode before your incompetent eyes.� Nerrar, the Overseer, spat.
�My Lord Overseer� cringed Kabar, �the Federation vessel was a Constitution-class ship- outmoded and not even classified by Starfleet. Plus, it was a training vessel�
�Silence, worm� thundered the Overseer. �Cadets are easily broken- we�d have them gut-spilling the UFP�s every secret within-� he broke off. �The Tal Shiar shall hear of this altercation. And they will not be happy. A thought occurred to him.
�Would the Starfleeters have been capable of beaming to any nearby planets?�
�It is possible�, Kabar replied. �Narkos Six was well within transporter range when the Khitomer�s core went supercritical.�
�Well, filth� snarled the Overseer, �we may have inadvertently- and unfortunately stumbled upon a way to save your miserable existence. Technician R�Mor! Get me the Tal Shiar. Kabar�s head bobbed as the centurion crept away.

Narkos 6
Rain dripped softly, falling in thin shafts through a delicate canopy of ch�mara trees. Sherman and Mallory worked feverishly at what was intended to be a subspace transmitter, but in fact was a pile of circuit boards. Zhanir, an Andorian sophomore, crunched on some flaky ration-substance. Delta Canarian native Wayliyn slept. Tuvok eschewed any of the former, preferring Vulcan meditative disciplines. These five were all that was left of a forty-nine strong crew of Fleet trainees- Sherman cursed. Of all the bloody ships that could hit a damn meteoroid- it had to be a lug full of freshmen, a Constitution-classer that was obsolete after Captain Kirk�s last five-year mission. And the thirty-nine dead. People they had laughed, argued, ate, worked and played with for almost a year. Gone. Mallory rose. �Transmitter, out. Rations, low. Region, Romulan Empire. Does anyone have any good news?�
�Yeah�
�Sherman?�
Andrew Sherman grinned. �I just found a deck of cards.� Tuvok wheeled. �In what way does that discovery lesson our current predicament?�
�It was a joke, Vulcan. Albeit a bad one� informed Mallory. Tuvok�s frown deepened. �A joke?� Mallory told him to forget it.
�The way I see it�, began Tuvok, kneading a handful of Narkos�s fine pedocal, �our primary objective is to return the transmitter to full efficiency, and our secondary goal is to evade Romulan patrols.� Wayliyn eased himself into a sitting posture against a damp tree. �When you put it that way- but are you familiar with the Earth saying; �easier said than...� Zhanir shoved the Canarian into a hedge, then himself, as his enhance hearing detected a faint hum of ion engines. �Cover�, he hissed, and Tuvok, Sherman and Mallory wasted no time in obeying. Seconds later, a sizzling energy streak burnt the air.
Zhanir squinted up at his adversary, and saw an agile, swept-back hover-car with a masked sniper leaning from its rear plane. He whirled on his back, and came in a crouching position, firing. Phaser and disruptor beams fried the canopy of leaves, sunblaze lines connecting attackers and attacked. Another sniper dropped from the car with a dull whump. From the forest floor, Sherman kept up a steady barrage, encircling the twisting car. Without warning, a stun shot drilled him, arching his back and dumping his limp body in the mud. Three squads of the Praetorial Guard materialized in their midst. Tuvok cocked a brow. �The logical course of action,� said he �is surrender�...

Sherman stood at sharp attention behind his cell�s forcefield. �Cadet Andrew Grothwell Sherman, service number 24049756-E, sophomore cadet, assignment Starship Khitomer. That�s all Command and the United Federation of Planets will permit me to reveal.� The Romulan answered with a cold smile. �I�m sure the full Tal Shiar interrogation board will convince you to be more... co-operative, shall we say?� Sherman grinned inwardly. Interrogators and their clich�s. Be it Qo�noS, Romulus, Raghora, his own war-fraught colony of New Virginia, those in the profession of extorting information that you didn�t want to be extorted, tended to employ a textbook script. �Just because I�m a Fleet cadet doesn�t mean my head is a padd for any Romulan official to read. So, snivel to your Proconsul and tell him whatever diabolical machine he plans to use will kill me. Nothing more.� He felt inner victory as the Romulan�s business mask slipped, just a fraction. �We�ll see� he said, not nearly so confident as he�d been, and abruptly left. Sherman gave him a jaunty wave.

Seventy-six hours later...
Tuvok hung, motionless, suspended in a frame of horror. In his confines, there is no night, no day. His reeking accommodation is forever dark. He watches as the hypo is dangled and drifted towards him, and two rapier-sized needles project, a skirl of sizzling pulses as they twist, striking the nape of his neck and infusing it with crackling fluid. Tuvok refuses to let out the animal scream that is mounting in his chest and ready to puncture the mask of his disciplines. He knows this is a softening-up process, and the actual interrogation is yet to come. Distractedly, he thought how much the pain stimulation liquid smelt like Bolian milk Then a barnacled moss-like blade of Romulan coral, used since the planet�s prehistory in various torture weapons, slashed his cheek, feelers probing his enzymes, microneedles twisting, turning. This is Romulus. The Exiles. The Tal Shiar. He shrieks with anguish and rage against those who have imprisoned him, and a furious scream shatters his lips. He has forsaken Surak.







Starfleet Command
Admiral Morrow thumped his desk. �The Khitomer went missing on the wrong side of the Neutral Zone forty-eight hours ago, with a bust nacelle and a plasma leak. So far we�ve had nothing from the Romulans- they�re denying any culpability whatsoever.�
�Hmmph. they would, wouldn�t they� interjected Admiral Carr dryly. Clearly, most of the table�s occupants shared Carr�s dim view of Romulan honesty.
�They�re the Alpha Quadrant�s biggest political entity, except for us. That means they think they can do what they like� another growled. Admiral Turner, the COS, banged his gavel. �So what are Starfleet going to do about it?�
Carr was quick to respond. �Send the biggest starship we have. Show the flag, shove it up their noses if we have to�. Morrow glared at him. �This is a matter for diplomacy, not force.�
�A friend of mine once said the best diplomat is a fully loaded phaser bank.� replied Carr.
�Gentlemen� Turner spread his hands conciliatorily. �I believe that the best course of action would be to send a military ship known for its diplomatic capabilities.�
�Indubitably� agreed Morrow. Carr nodded warily. �A neat solution, but, as Aesop said, who shall bell the cat?� Turner consulted a padd. �Captain Harriman just got back from Tholian space, right?� asked he. �Right�. Turner didn�t see which admiral had answered his inquiry. �But what has he got to do with all this?�
Turner�s fist hit the table. �The Enterprise�.

First light is pain. There is no pain. There is only logic. These were the mantras that bound him to the rock of Vulcan calm, the teachings of Surak. Our Vulcan had recited them since youth and the kahs-wan. The doctrines that he�d revised should have at all costs prepared him for the Tal Shiar�s ministrations. Let who could, Bolian, Human, Andorian, and Vulcan, prepare themselves for such ordeals.
Ordeals where burning ice flows freely through the veins and oxygen scrapes your parched raw throat into laboured lungs, thirst holding you in it�s embrace. His eyes are blinded, but were they not, still there is nothing to see. There is no pain. There is only... only... only the Romulan Empire.

The Starship Enterprise�s sleek and silvery form glided over Earth, argentine against the velvet of space and the mottled verdure of her captain�s homeworld. �Romulus?� that captain repeated, staring to his comm officer Ensign Nechayev, as if she�d made a mistake, then to his superior. �You want me to go to Romulus?�
�Not that far� returned Admiral Lekk, a Bolian greening in his old age, brow ridges knit and pliable facial ridge pulsating. �You are to follow the errant Khitomer�s warp-trail, and determine there a full and coherent search for survivors and debris. If the trouble Romulan give you any (Lekk was still slow in adapting to Federation Standard grammar, but refused a Translator) you force their hand. Either they shove you all the way to Starbase 1, in which case they have something to hide, or escort you in and extend �full diplomatic courtesy�, which with Romulans may be an honour blade in the back, but at least if they allow you to check for transporter signals, the truth you know they�ll telling be.�
�Sounds a good plan� Harriman deadpanned, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
�Yours is not to reason why� quoted his admiral, �yours is but to do or die. And you may just retain some of the standing you lost when Captain James Kirk disappeared on your damn maiden voyage�. Harriman knew Lekk spoke in jest, but whenever anyone brought up the Kirk business, he would falter miserably. Lekk seemed to realise he�d gone too far, and supplied a conciliatory nod. �Bon voyage, Enterprise 1701-B. Starfleet out�.
Harriman gave a curt nod and jabbed a button, replacing Lekk�s face with the blue-on-midnight UFP colophon. The slightly-ineffectual captain brushed away an unruly forelock and turned to Commander Rand. �Set course for Narkos 5, Commander Rand. Warp Ten.� He heard they were thinking of revising the warp-scale after some experiment, and wasn�t fond of the idea. �Aye, sir� she replied crisply. Rand had served as a yeoman on the Enterprise 1701�s five-year mission under Kirk, a cadet on Captain April�s mission, her father on an Asia-class cruise, and her grandfather on the original Enterprise, that is its second mission under Captain T�Pol. The Enterprise reared as a horse, and Harriman felt his ship�s power beneath his feet. �Engage� and the silver craft blossomed in a flash of starlines, warping out.

Nerrar�s fist crashed hard into his chest, a salute he�d learned from contact with the Terrans in a mirror universe, in respect for his �eternal liege�. Though his face dripped servility and undying loyalty, his mind wondered if Chairman Tehar�s back would stay still long enough to slam a knife in it. So ran the Romulan chain of command. Rihannsu, he swore under his breath. Trouble was. Tehar could probably guess precisely what he was thinking. You didn�t get a Tal Shiar chairman so young who had earned his position by simple promotion and honour- promotion and honour. He was beginning to sound like a Klingon. Anyway, that young Jekri Kaleh seemed to be on a roll, as far as advancement in rank went. Tehar had better watch out.
Putting all thoughts of knives, Klingons and Jekri Kaleh to the back of his head, he began his report. �The human male and the Delta Canarian may be co-operative as yet. Sadly, we were forced to execute the Andorian � and as for the Vulcan!� He made a small noise of disgust. Tehar cut him in, his visage seeming to vibrate with fury. The legendary racial hatred of Vulcans had surfaced in the honoured chairman. �Transfer him to Level Sub-Ten�. Sub-Ten was the old Imperial Dungeon complex. No-one, even the Emperor, knew what went on there, save those who worked in Sub-Ten. It had been that way for hundreds of years, and would likely stay that way for hundreds more. A fitting place for a Vulcan, mused Nerrar. We�ll see how long that �there is no pain� axiom holds up for.
�The human male?� asked the chairman. �He has a singular wit, my liege� retorted Nerrar silkily. �But give him time, and he�ll break.�
�There was a human female captured, also� continued Nerrar. The glare his liege gave him could have scorched Rura Penthe, and the next could have frozen Tyree. Nerrar was puzzled why the female- Mallory- would provoke such response, until he realised Tehar was furious with the former part of his commentary, as opposed to the latter.
�We don�t have time, gutter-born� he snarled. �A Federation starship is entering our space.�
�Starship!� exclaimed Nerrar. �We were told the Federation-�
�The Federation may not know how to run a state. But they�re not fools, especially that president Ra-ghoratreii. They know something�s up, and they�ve sent the Enterprise.�
�Enterprise!� Nerrar squealed. �Cut the echoes, gutter-born� snapped Tehar. We get enough defunct acoustics with the damn architecture. And the Enterprise is only a ship, a ship, I might add, with less power than one of our own warbirds. James Tiberius Kirk, demon that he is, is dead. �
�Your plan, my liege, if I may be so bold?� Nerrar inquired. �My plan,� shot back the Romulan, is so simple even you can implement it easily. Stall them at the border, and they will almost certainly break past and into our space. Send ten warbirds to intercept the Starship Enterprise. Ensure it blows in exactly the same place as the unfortunate Khitomer�s core overloaded- a tragic occurrence, but nothing to do with the actions of our noble Empire.� The chairman uttered this last in a sing-song tone. Nerrar snickered, and Tehar backhanded him across the face. �Brief Subcommander Sukaar on the Warbird Kemed�t. He�s to be our bait. Now!�
Nerrar bowed, and touched his transport-tag. His vision clouded, sparkled, and reformed in the image of the Kemed�t�s bridge.
�Commander Sukaar� drawled Nerrar. �The games afoot�...

Tuvok�s face remained clear and impassive, but anyone who knew him could see he had cracked once, and was whisper-close to doing so again. His pupils had dilated, his palms were minutely spasming, and his feet were clenched and taut. Electric fire tore from a device, into his body, and various neuro-inhibitors transformed his brain into a randomized mass of synapses. Wayliyn was screaming at the physical pain, but with a race like Vulcans, carefully honed psi-abilities an integral part of their life, the mental assault was far more violating and wrenching than any torment of the flesh. The ubiquitous Romulan manning his inflictor post particularly had it in for Tuvok. The Vulcan knew why, as despite the Emperor�s attempt to suppress the reasons. Romulus was still struggling to comprehend, even in secret, that their people had been on the wrong side of the schism in an exodus on Vulcan- in short, they had been Vulcans.
The hierarchy had swung the other way, widening the rift with a slew of anti-Vulcan rumours and sentiment. Tuvok did not intend to relay this to the Inflictor. For some reason, simple statement-of-fact seemed to infuriate many, especially Romulans, and though he did not intend to break in the presence of this one, it was illogical to cause himself any more pain than necessary. Next door, a muffled shriek reverberated, that Tuvok recognized as Mallory. He felt her disturbed mind touch his, and he diverted some of the energies being used for inner healing to her. The Inflictor sneered, as a higher-ranking official entered, wrinkling his nose at Sub-Ten�s resident stench.
�Do you know who I am� he said, almost gently, tone laden with false and oiled politeness.
�Since I have not been informed, no�
�I am Tehar. Chairman of the Romulan Tal Shiar. Your Andorian colleague is dead, Wayliyn is dying. I�m about ten seconds from collapsing your skull with a out-sized, large, dense object.
�You may use your Inflictor to hit me with, Chairman�
�Vulcan humour� spat Tehar. �No such thing� Tuvok replied.
�Then there is Cadet Alicia Mallory. Striking features, I�d hate to have her killed. But that, Vulcan, is what will happen if you don�t answer some questions!� �Questions� was accented by the heel of Tehar�s hand slamming Tuvok�s chest.
�Miss Mallory will die to protect the integrity of the Federation, as will I�.
Tehar�s lips twisted in a humourless smile. �So, you will have the deaths of your fellow cadets on your conscience in your final moments.�
Tuvok: �Doubtless, you have repeated a similar speech to the other captives. Their deaths will not be on my conscience, but on yours, Romulan- if you have one.�
�I don�t like games, Vulcan� Tehar snarled back. �State the locations of the Federation fleet.�
And the hilt of a phaser smashed against Tehar�s jaw, crumpling the chairman. Another Romulan stood silhouetting the cell�s door, brandishing a smoking disruptor.
And behind him...
�Selak!�

Harriman drummed his fingers on the side of the captain�s chair. These are a whole lot more comfortable than the damn Constitution-class buckets, he thought. He didn�t know how Captain Kirk would have coped. Talking of Constitution-class ships- the USS Khitomer. The Khitomer had originally been the Starship Republic, but after 2293�s Accords- the Federation/Klingon peace treaty, it had been renamed in honour of that treaty. A Starfleet Academy ship- Harriman checked the computer- it was definitely Academy. There was no way Starfleet officers would be flying around in outmoded baskets so long after the turn of the century.
Which begged the question- what on Earth was the Khitomer doing along the Neutral Zone border? A query that would have to be answered later. Presently; �Captain!� Lieutenant Cade Paris twisted around from the conn. �Crossing the Neutral Zone border in twenty seconds�.
�Proceed� nodded Harriman. The Enterprise computer cut in: �Warning!� grated the acerbic female resonance. �Crossing Neutral Zone in 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, - warning. Enterprise has entered the Neutral Zone. This is inadvisable under the Federation/Romulan treaty of-�
�Mute� snapped Commander Rand. Cade Paris swung violently in his seat again: �Romulan Warbird decloaking directly ahead.�
Harriman sprung from his chair. �On screen�. The green-grey rippling image of a Warbird filled bridge monitors.
�Captain, they�re hailing us�
�On screen� he repeated.
The imager flickered, and a silver-coated, silver-haired Romulan panned on.
�I�m Captain John Harriman of the Federation Starship Enter-�
�This is Subcommander Sukaar of the Warbird Kemed�t. Respect treaty dictates and remain on your side of the Neutral Zone�. Harriman shifted, sucking in air. �We are on a diplomatic mission, Subcommander, recovering survivors from the Starship Khitomer.� The Romulan�s visage leant in closer, consuming nearly every pixel on the viewscreen. �Diplomatic channels have informed you there were no survivors�
�For the record�, Harriman returned, �I would like to uphold Romulan morality by corroborating it with evidence from the site of our ship�s destruction.�
�You do not trust your neighbours in the Romulan Empire� Sukaar growled.
�It is not that� Harriman tried to wrap his tongue around a diplomatic yet firm response, but-� Sukaar cut him off again.
�You have one of your minutes to withdraw, or we will fire �. He cut the link, and a winged emblem of two planets flashed, followed by the image of open space outside.
�Red alert� yelled Harriman grimly. �Let�s call their bluff. Hold position.� he shot at Cade, and looking up at Ensigns Bryce and Morgan- �ready phasers and photons, shields to maximum�. To Ensign Nechayev: �subspace packet to Starfleet Command. Inform them we have engaged a warbird�.

The Federation Starship Khitomer- one hour thirty minutes before the breach
Captain Weygand started as his ship slowed to a halt and the warp-field�s starlines were replaced with a view of Alpha Centauri. �Why�d we stop?� he asked, looking for the Ops lieutenant and then remembering this was a shipful of cadets. Sherman looked up at him. �We received a distress call, from a Romulan ship just on our side of the Zone.�
�And you think we�re equipped to help! This was meant o be a warp-run to the nearest system and back. Subspace isn�t even up yet�
�We�re the closest ship� Mallory said. �I can�t believe that� snorted Weygand, and she piped through the sensor-data.�
�My God� Weygand exclaimed. �Well, I think we have some in-field practice going here. Mr. Sherman, heading: The Neutral Zone. Warp Five.�
�Sir!� he grinned, and the Khitomer bucked into warp, pressured nacelles moaning.


Tuvok�s liberator tossed his disruptor to a comrade, and paced the cell.
�I am Centurion Kabar, Narkos system, Outpost Zero-Two-Seven-Eight. I am also one of the cult known as the Romulan seekers of Vulcan logic�. Tuvok frowned. �A Seeker of Logic posing as a Centurion, twirling a disruptor?�
�I was bred a son of the Empire, but met with Selak here when stranded on Beta Onias Three, and began to see that his was the better way�
�Selak is... persuasive� Tuvok affirmed. Selak had been his mentor, and guided him through the kahs-wan. Selak wiped a smear of moss-green blood from Tuvok�s face, and inclined his head. �All will be explained- later�
�My comrades?� asked Tuvok.
Selak gestured as two �Romulans� sprinted up the corridor, accompanied by Sherman, Mallory and Wayliyn. �Comrade Selak� began one of the guards- �we couldn�t find Mallory at first. Turned out she�d escaped on her own�. He hefted his disruptor to Selak.
�I am curious�, Tuvok mused, �The Seekers seem very military for an organisation supposedly rooted in non-violent Vulcan doctrines�.
�Only when we have to be�, intoned Selak gravely. This was when two guards emerged, rifles spitting.

�Don�t fire until we�re fired upon� ordered Captain Harriman. On viewer, a countdown pulsated. �They are charging disruptor banks� Morgan informed. �Brace� said Harriman tightly. A high-pitched whine and a double stream of lustrous viridescence lanced, and the ship�s nose dipped slightly. �Minimal damage� declared Morgan. �Shields holding at ninety-three per cent.�
�Space is often not considered three-dimensional� whispered Harriman, remembering his assignment as an ensign on the last Enterprise during the Khan Singh crisis.
�Sir?� That was Commander Rand.
�Set a course, straight up, ninety degrees!� The Excelsior-class ship lurched, barrelled upward, and spat a frisson of torpedoes at the Warbird.
�Target their engines. All forward phasers, continuous fire in rotation until I give the word- now!
Phasers raked the Romulan�s shields, and in return disruptor-fire ploughed into the Enterprise.
�Get us out of here, Warp Eight�. Paris nodded in compliance
�Plotting return course to Federation space�
�Belay that!� Harriman shouted. �Warp Eight- into Romulan space.�
�Aye, sir- Warbird is pursuing.� A sultry drizzle of fire skinned the ship�s shields, and a yelping Cade Paris was thrown full forward over the conn. Harriman yanked a companel. �Medical team to the bridge�
Morgan spun, running a finger through his mop of greasy hair. �Damage Control teams to decks five, four and (a bridge panel collapsed on him, knocking him spreadeagled, and Bryce stepped into his place) �One� finished the hapless ensign�s replacement. �Hull-breach Deck 14- Section Sigma-2�
�Reroute all power to aft shields and weapons� cried Rand. A plume of smoke erupted in the turbolift entryway. The interplay continued, as white starlines mingled with glowing fire-lines. �Maintain barrage� commanded Harriman
�Phasers at four per cent� reported Bryce frantically.
�Burn �em out!�
�Reading warp-core overload on Romulan vessel�. A second later, the phaser banks sputtered and faded.
�Ten seconds to enemy core-breach� called Bryce.
�Maximum warp� screeched Harriman.
Blinding white oblivion burst from the doomed Kemed�t, rocking the Enterprise bow-through-stern.
�All fires extinguished, casualties are light� breathed Paris, who was perched weakly on the conn-chair with an Andorian medic hovering over him. Rand shook her head in disbelief. �We just blew a Romulan ship, in their space. We�ll be starting another damn Romulan War! Starfleet are going to kill us�
�Believe me� consoled Harriman gruffly, �if we get out of this alive I�ll enjoy staring at Fleet brig walls the rest of my days. Besides, if the Romulans are covering up something, they�ll have to accept the loss of their Warbird to save face in front of the Alpha Quadrant�s non-Romulan community. And prevent a major diplomatic incident.�
�And if they aren�t covering� voiced Rand. �Then we deserve to die� Harriman spat.
Cade Paris answered a triplebeep at his station. �Coming up on Khitomer explosion-site- and sir, there are ten Warbirds surrounding it.�
�They�re definitely covering� Rand commented to the captain, but more reassuring herself. �Full sensor sweep, fly by at Warp Twelve� Harriman tugged his belt. �Soon as we�re out of their sensor range, all stop and see what we�ve got�
�Sweeping... now� Bryce rejoined. Harriman noted off the second sin his head: �All stop�.
�Captain� Cade piped up, �There�s definitely a transporter signature between the Khitomer�s debris and Narkos Six.� Harriman rubbed his chin thoughtfully. �Did you scan Narkos Six?�
�What do you take me for? They�re not there!�
Harriman harrumphed. �There�s a warp-trail leading straight to Romulus� Nechayev put in.
The captain rose.
�Heading; Romulus� he barked. �Warp Four�.

The pip-spitting clatter of disruptor fire ricocheted off the walls as Seekers and would-be-escapees dove for cover. �Give yourselves up� roared a Centurion straddling the door. Tuvok rolled for a cell, grabbing the phaser that Kabar tossed him. The intendants were laying down saturation fire, and Tuvok could not see to shoot through the inane babel. He checked his phaser, satisfied to see it had a non-lethal setting, unlike most things Romulan. A blinding streak of energy sliced the air by Tuvok�s ear. Up ahead he saw Mallory pressed into a fissure, disruptor clicking over, clearly useless. A Romulan shot drilled a wall conduit, sending sparks, liquid flame and superheated vapour flowing over the blaze-carved floor-panes. Two dull thuds compromised the wall Tuvok was hiding behind, and he clawed blindly for a handhold. The shooting intensified- and faded away in twinkling flickers before his eyes.
The team materialised in a dank basement, somewhere on Romulus presumably. Rot and slime had devoured the stone walls, and something green and slimy dripped from the crumbling chalky ceiling. Newer, but still obsolescent, plasticated buttresses prevented the chamber from imploding altogether, A light-panel salvaged from a Warbird, with wires hanging at odd-ends, provided illumination. Two flagons of replicated beverage reposed on the threadbare dun drugget.
Selak sat calmly on the floor, and the assembled Seekers, still in the garb of Romulan warriors, followed his example, as did Tuvok. The rescued cadets knew that they were probably in for a lengthy session of Vulcan meditation, so excused themselves and dispersed into the even smaller and dirtier adjoining rooms. Some joker had scrawled �luxury apartment alpha� on a wall. Wayliyn and Sherman sipped drinks and compared torture experience. Mallory eschewed conversation and sat in a storage area, staring blankly at the floor. An hour later, Selak called back the motley band.
Tuvok, standing in a corner, motioned for Sherman to join him. In an undertone he muttered- �It is odd that the Seekers are so militaristic, and that Selak, presumed deceased, is present. There are factors in these circumstances that fail to equate. I suggest we treat this organisation with a logical degree of caution�.
�You mean to say� began the freckle-faced sophomore, appalled. Tuvok motioned for him to be quiet. But it was too late. Selak�s head appeared seemingly from thin air. �You don�t trust me� he said benevolently. �It�s quite all right- I�d be disappointed in you if you did at first, considering all that I taught you about how some races deceive. I could offer you reassurances, but I�d do that anyway if I was an impostor� �louder- �to business. We have a small shuttle concealed in the Valdore District. Escape begins tomorrow at 0500�. He leaned over a map. �The delegated responsibilities are as follows...�

A few-hundred light-years away.
Captain Sean Barratt of the Starship Farragut was bored. Cruising the Neutral Zone at half impulse was enough to bore the breeches off any Starfleet Officer- he doubted even if Admiral Archer himself could have withstood it. He wearily glanced at Anne Sollins, his ops officer. �Anything new, Ensign?� he inquired, taking another draught of foul replicated coffee.
�Sir� she said perplexed, there is- uh- oh� her face regained composure. �Nice try, Captain, but a drill won�t relieve the boredom�
�I never arranged a drill, Ensign� Barratt grunted through his coffee.
�Then what-�
�Three Romulan Warbirds closing at Warp-Eight!�
�Red alert. Signal Starfleet-�
The Farragut sheared away. Conflict had begun.


�Harriman to engineering, can you get any more outta those crystals�
�We already be doin� Warp-Twelve. They be cracking if we keep pushin� the devils, Coptin� bit out Commander Moadie, the West African engineering chief.
�Understood, Mr Moadie. How long can we maintain warp eleven?�
�An hour, Coptin. Then we be do�n to warp-four, thirty mins later at warp-two. There be no way we get to Romul�s in time sir.� Harriman grinned mirthlessly. �You can�t outrun a Romulan to Romulus�
�I hate those Romulus-wasn�t built-in-a-day breed of joke� Moadie moaned
�Hold it together, Mr. Moadie. That�s all I ask.�
�When you but it that way, Copt�, I�ll give you warp-sixteen�
�Harriman out.�
He turned to his bridge crew. �Repairs?�
�Almost complete, Captain. Phasers, photons, shields at full, hull-breaches sealed� rapped Bryce proudly.
�Well done, Mr. Bryce�
�Sir, we�re getting something from Starfleet Command, it�s Admiral Morrow.� Nechayev extended the �a�s of �admiral� in an American drawl. Harriman crossed the bridge for the hundredth time.
�Patch him in�
Everyone was beginning to grow irritable, but Admiral Morrow was livid.
�John Harriman, you�re to get back on our side of the border immediately!� he roared. �In Starfleet histo-�
�Cut audio� Harriman collapsed weakly in his chair.
�Resume course�. The admiral�s face winked off. Commander Rand leant in on the arm of Harriman�s seat.
�The crew are exhausted. I think we should start rotating shifts.�
�Do it� Harriman didn�t look up.
�Yourself included� she continued. �You�ve gotta be kidding. I�ve a ship to run here� came the answer. A muffled explosion closed the confrontation.�
�Computer, report� There was no response. Across his screen scrolled: CONDUIT RUPTURED IN ENGINEERING DECK DUE TO WARP STRESS. VOICE-RECOGNITION PROTOCOLS OFFLINE. Harriman jabbed his switch. �Bridge to Chief Engineer, get on the VRR. Who was working that conduit?�
�Ensign Sedwell, sir. She�s dead�. The captain swallowed. This mission was costing them dearly. He wondered, not for the first time, if there was something he was missing about that damn Khitomer.

The Federation Starship Khitomer- one hour before the breach
�We are approaching the distress site, Captain� Mallory announced
Weygand nodded �Scan for a vessel.�
�One, thirty thousand kilometres away�
�Warp micro-jump� ordered Weygand
�No can do, Capt.� Wayliyn looked miserable. �We�d blow off the engines�
�Manually, then� Weygand amended. �Full impulse- now�
Mallory acknowledged.

Dressed in indistinctive and shapeless Romulan garb, Beta Squad (B-for-Breakout) as they had designated themselves, emerged from the neglected basement that was Khalan District�s Seeker Base of Ops. Watery grey Romulan dawnlight greeted them. A preybird cackled and swooped over a dead family of rats, heightening the morning�s gloom. Last night�s battle had fried the mobile transporter, so the journey to Selak�s vehicle had to be made on foot. And, as they knew, the trip to Valdore was only Step One. Once there, they had to stay in space long enough to get a message to the Fleet, while avoiding detection by the Romulan Home Defense Armada.
A Romulan sentry trilled a warning, but lowered his disruptor on recognising Kabar. Several minutes into the trek, Mallory began to complain. �Can�t we at least hire a hovercar?�
�My feet are falling off as well, Alice, but registered transport won�t get us anywhere but a Tal Shiar cell� Sherman retorted
�He is correct�, affirmed Selak. Tuvok noticed Selak was in the perfect position to neck-pinch Sherman, and subtly manoeuvred himself between the two.

The twin suns of Romulus rose, arcing upwards until they burnt away the dawn clouds, driving bars of boiling light into the suburban turf. The eight cowled figures marched on.
�We�ll make the shuttle in two hours� assured Kabar.
�The shuttle�s the least of our worries. Once we get it up, we�ll be outflying every Warbird in the Empire� interjected Sherman.
�Or not� Wayliyn remarked, gesturing to a holo- billboard showing the Enterprise-B tearing into Romulan space, weapons blazing. Above was the phrase �ACT OF WAR� in Romulan characters. �It is foolish to assume the Enterprise is aware of our location� droned Tuvok.
A phaser blast nailed him flat. Mallory stood back, arms akimbo, disruptor focussed squarely on the party.
�You!� exclaimed Sherman. The Romulan, by answer, removed her plasti-mask.

The Federation Starship Khitomer, thirty minutes before the breach
�That�s no ship� snapped Captain Weygand icily. �It�s a damn asteroid.� The Khitomer keeled sideways. �Just what the hell was all this in aid of- aaargh!� The bridge tilted forward. �Helm, have we made a course correction?� he barked
�Negative�
�I�m going down to engineering- see if I can get this fixed manually!�
�Good luck�
�Red alert�
The Khitomer had heeled left, this time straight into the asteroid. Bloodred bordered screens all over the bridge and alarms began to mewl. �Warning. Warning. The ship has impacted a Class-Eight asteroid.�
�Possible core-breach going here! shouted Sherman. The computer confirmed.
�Thirty minutes to warp-core breach�
�Begin evacuation!�
�Shuttlebay doors are shut- we can�t get them open- anti-transport shields are in place!�
�We�re on anew heading- straight for the Neutral Zone!� screeched Sherman. �Helm�s not responding!�
The Khitomer reeled, arrowing for the Romulan border. Mallory left the bridge, smiling tightly.
�Twenty-nine minutes to warp-core breach�


Harriman pored over the Khitomer�s records in his ready room. He�d looked through the damned thing fifty times, and on each one, two and two made three or five, and another question was raised.
Who had been sending non-Starfleet subspace signals?
Why was the Khitomer at the neutral-zone border?
Why had the Captain been killed in an unaffected area?
What had caused the core-breach?
�Computer� he called �show me full service records of those assigned to USS Khitomer�
�Unable to comply. Selected files have been erased.�
�Who erased them?�
�Sophomore Cadet Andrew Wallace Sherman�

�I was assigned� sneered Mallory, �to infiltrate Starfleet Academy. Mr Sherman, I used your security clearance as a trusted cadet to initiate a warp-core breach by spinning us into an asteroid, then deleted records of my actions. I killed that balding grishna Captain Weygand. And have been transmitting movements of this entire operation from when we broke out of that cell. I will be honoured throughout the Empire.�
�Just out of interest� asked Sherman, �what�s your real name?�
�Jekri Kaleh. Now, who�s the first for the slow roast� she inquired nastily, a grin twisting the corners of her lips. She patted the disruptor, and gave a mock bow. �What is it your Klingon friends say, Wayliyn- today is a good day to die?� She stepped back, and on cue, Romulan shock troops jackbooted forward.

The Federation Starship Khitomer, two minutes before the breach
Mallory calmly took aim at Captain Weygand. And fired. A thin lance of angry crimson phased energy blasted him backwards, and he collapsed against a bulkhead.
�You�d have made a good officer, Mallory� he said regretfully, and those were his last words. Mallory purposefully removed his phaser and took a quick turbolift trip to the bridge.
�One minute to warp-core breach!� intoned the Starship Khitomer�s computer.


�Approaching Remus, Captain�
�Take us round the limb of Remus, the second leg of the third moon, and scan for our crews DNA signatures.�
�I take it you found something interesting� Paris commented.
�I did. Sherman�s a Romulan informant�
�That�s impossible!� cried Cade. �I know him! He�d never do anything to- he was obsessed with Federation princip- he�
�Stuff it, Lieutenant. The evidence is self-explanatory. Ms Nechayev, prepare to transmit on Romulan frequencies. Mr. Bryce, ready two armed commando teams in Transporter Room One, and take a case of transport-tags. Mr Lang, replace Mr. Bryce and prepare shields and weapons.�
�Reveal yourselves� boomed a Romulan timbre over the comm.
�Ignore� muttered Harriman. �State your identity� thundered The Voice.
�This is Commander Sukaar flying the prize-of-war Enterprise.� returned Harriman crisply.
�You lie, Enterprise�. You will be decimated.� the voice mocked, confidently. �Face me, Captain Harriman�
�How the hell does he know me� gasped an outraged Harriman. Nechayev knit her brows. �Voice analysis lists the tone as that of Nanclus, a Romulan ambassador involved with General Chang in the 2293 Khitomer Conspiracy�.
Harriman remembered. It had been the last mission of Captain Kirk and the Enterprise-A, to secure a Klingon/Federation peace treaty. There had been a plot to sabotage the treaty, and Kirk had for a time been accused of the murder. But it had been straightened out at Khitomer, and Nanclus, Chang, and a Starfleet lieutenant named Valeris were brought to justice. Dimly and briefly, Harriman wondered if the link between Khitomer and the Starship Khitomer was a coincidence. He gathered himself. �Mr. Lang, do you have the cadets� scans on sensors�
�Sir, yes. They�re surrounded by Romulans�
�Team Alpha- prepare for landing. Transporter chief, energize�

Bryce�s phaser materialised firing, a millisecond before he did. Mallory, in its path, sprang behind a Romulan, who took the force of a searing energy volley. He turned and spotted Sherman- who was firing at Romulans! Harriman had briefed he, Bryce, that Sherman was an informant. Bryce didn�t think, he fired- and missed. Sherman sprang, stunning Bryce square in the chest, and clawed in the direction of Mallory. She ducked behind another Romulan, allowing him to tae Sherman�s next shot. Then Tuvok was behind her, and dropped the traitor with the famous neck-pinch.
Sherman thumbed his phaser to kill, and fired. �That�s for Captain Weygand, and Zhanir, and all the others, Romulan scum!� he shrieked. Bryce, meanwhile, blazed away at a horde of disruptor-toting guards, and Tuvok ran to cover him. Bryce tossed him a beam-tag. Someone skimmed one to Wayliyn, and he called
�Are we ready to beam yet?�
�Tags still loading! Only way to get through planetary shield-� the speaker grunted and crumpled up. Tuvok elbowed the trooper who�d shot, twisting away his disruptor. Bryce clutched air in his fingers as multiple sap-green stings hurled him back. Three more squads of Romulans beamed in, and suddenly, black uniforms swarmed over the band of red.

Lang looked up. �Planetary disruptors firing.� The ship careened to port, fist-sized eggshell implosions erupting. Lang�s console breached, and the new tactical officer dived as a lava-like ball struck the wall behind him. �Evasive� shrilled a bruised and bleeding Harriman.
�Shields at 62%. We�re venting drive plasma!� announced Lang. �50- 41- 36- 20- 17�

Sherman was lodged in the centre of a stampeding slew of Romulans, and he knew what he must do. Gritting his massive molars, he set his phaser to overload. Warnings burbled, and weapon fragments blew out in a spherical shockwave. Sherman collapsed, bringing his surround with him, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that the treacherous Mallory was laid to rest as black insects collapsed around him. Tuvok�s transport-tag blatted a note. �Enterprise� he called calmly. �Beam us all up� A pool of photons bathed the field momentarily, and then left it to decay.

Tuvok and Selak materialized in a squatting firing pose, and heeled forwards on the smooth transport-panel. Selak looked up in disbelief, as a kindly hand clutched his shoulder. Captain Spock knelt. �Well done, my Seeker. And you, Tuvok- I see like me, you�ve decided to follow the Starfleet path�
�Actually� Tuvok returned, �I intend to resign�. Spock looked disappointed, but motioned the two to their feet. Three Vulcans strode from the transporter room. Harriman tapped the comm. �Back to the Federation� he ordered, �maximum warp�.

A small fleet of ships, the sleek circles of Federation cruisers, and the dagger-like structure of Romulan warbirds encircled another, testing each other for weaknesses, commanders craned forward to see who would fire the first shot. They weaved and held positions in a choreographed ballet of deadly weapons. Off to port, stars flared, and ship officers, human and Romulan, leapt forward, galvanised into action. The Enterprise hurtled along, cutting a path between the battle lines. �This is Captain Harriman of the Starship Enterprise. Romulans, put up your swords. We know your game, how you captured our cadets, and if you want to avoid a major diplomatic incident, you�ll stand down�.
The Romulan commanders hissed as one. But even Romulans possess some degree of logic. They withdrew.

�It now resides� Harriman smiled at his bridge crew, �in the capable purview of our ambassadors. �Well done, gentlemen. I think we�re finally earning the name Enterprise. And the ghosts of Khitomer can rest.�


Fifty-four years later, on board the Starship Voyager.
Captain Kathryn Janeway leant back. �I thought you never went back to Starfleet until the 2350s?� She set down the coffee pot, confused.
�I returned to the Academy. Once. Briefly. I didn�t believe it worth mentioning�
�You lied?� exclaimed Tom Paris. �Vulcans. What a bunch of hypocrites!� Janeway held a commanding hand.
�After the Tal Shiar incident, I did not return to Starfleet for over thirty years. This encounter was so suppressed by both governments; it was partly what led to the Tomed Incident of 2311�
�I see� Janeway mused thoughtfully. �You�re quite a storyteller.�
Paris couldn�t resist. �Hidden talents?� Tuvok performed what passed for a groan in Vulcans, and turned back to the tactical station. Stars flared, and Voyager continued its odyssey home.


The End

[StarfleetCommand74656]

Is anyone going to comment? I dont mind negative feedback as long as I know someone's opinion!