A Powder Keg: Short Stories

Synposis: These short stories pertain to ongoing missions involving the RRW Tebok and the Romulans. If you have interest in participating, please reach out to me (@Garak234)

No Escape


STARDATE: 99815.8

Commander Imeek was a scrupulous, no nonsense sort of Commander. No exception was ever made to deviating from RRF military protocol. And further, being a veteran of the Dominion War, he knew better than to take unncessary risks.

Those qualities made him uneasy about the ongoing situation regarding the Breen Confederacy. In essence, every single encounter with the Breen seemed to indicate that they were not provoking. The Breen were staying on their side of the border. And further, though a freighter had supposedly been interned by the Breen, the evidence was lacking. Indeed, ‘rogue factions’ sounded mighty suspect.

But Commander Imeek could not voice suspicions. He was not entrenched in the political sphere. Though he had been hearing rumors, specifically from the 11th Expeditionary Flotilla. T’Kon technology. And of course, the 11th Flotilla was to be mounting a rescue operation of the interned Romulan freighter. A part of him wondered if he should warn them. But, he did not have enough information to make a warning.

But that was about to change.

Suddenly, the tactical officer barked out words towards him.

“Commander Imeek. Multiple contacts originating from the Breen Confederacy. On a direct intercept course.” said the officer.

“What? Do they see us, Sublieutenant? The cloaking field is intact? And further, are they Breen?”

There was a pause. The tactical officer made sweeping orchestral motions across the console in front of him. His eyes went wide.

“Sublieutenant, I asked you a question.” said Commander Imeek.

“Sir… unknown profile. I don’t think they are Breen. Five vessels. And they do see us. They are approaching fast and powering up weapons.”

Commander Imeek went wide-eyed. How could they see the ship? Romulan cloaks were state of the art. Unless… he frowned at that. He then rose out of his seat and looked to the communications officer.

“Centurion, inform RRF Command that we are engaging five unknown vessels along the Breen border. Relay our exact coordinates. Sublieutenant, drop cloak and power up shields. Prepare all forward embankments. Fire as toon as you have a lock. Helm, divert present course. Lower speed to one fourth impulse power.”

The ship responded with careful precision. These were experienced members of the Romulan military. Many of them were veterans of the Dominion War. This was not their first engagement. There was no panic. Instead, calm, focused actions. Suddenly, the vessel shook. An Uhlan went flying across the bridge.

“Commander! Our shields are not protecting us from the vessels volleys. They are also jamming us. We cannot get a message out. I’ve… never seen technology like this before. But… I have a lock on two of the vessels. Returning fire.” said the Sublieutenant.

At once, the RRW Valdore responded. Two of the attacking vessels were destroyed. But there was no chance to celebrate. The remaining hostile vessels returned fire. With devastating effectiveness. Several consoles exploded on the bridge. And further, reports indicate of several hull breaches in the engineering section.

“Commander, internal sensors are indicating we have boarding parties. Level 10 and Level 12. Marine detachments are attempting to contain them.”

In that moment, Commander Imeek knew that the ship was lost. But if the details of the attack could reach RRF Command, maybe there was a chance. No, not Command. This would be lost. the 11th Flotilla. The flagship. RRW Tebok.

“Centurion Venia. You have new orders.” He looked to the communications officer.

“We served through the Dominion War. You know how to survive. Take this.” The Commander handed the officer a data-padd. It contained all sensor records of the RRW Valdore. Right up until the present engagement.

“Head to Hanger Bay 2. Take a Kestrel. Intercept the RRW Tebok. They are the closest ship to us. You NEED to get this information to them. You cannot fail, Centurion. Do you understand me?”

There was panic in Commander Imeek’s eyes. The man never panicked. But now, he was. The only hope now was for the Centurion to accomplish this mission. To get this information to the rest of the RRF. To learn about these vessels. Centurion Venia was uncertained. But she bit her lip and saluted.

“Yes sir!”

Right at that, the lights on the bridge flickered. Then completely went out. Back-up generators kicked in. Centurion Venia was on her way to the hanger. She knew this vessel. When she disappeared from the bridge, Commander Imeek looked to his first officer.

“We’re not letting them have the ship. I trust you understand what that means?”

The First Officer nodded. He quickly made his way to the far side of the bridge to retrieve something .A metallic box. He opened it. Inside were two keys. The first officer took one. The Commander the other. Self Destruct. They would over charge the singularity core. Everyone would perish. And so would the enemy. As they prepared to overpower the core, all the officers on the bridge looked to Imeek. Their eyes wide. Imeek looked back, swallowing.

“I didn’t think we could lose.” said Commander Imeek.

Then the two keys were inserted into their appropriate slots. There was a loud humming sound. Then, a few seconds later, a massive explosion. The RRW Valdore was no more. But so too were the attackers. Powering away was a lone Kestrel Runabout. Just a few were onboard. Centurion Venia along with a few Guard Marines she had encountered on her way to the hanger.

Their next destination, the RRW Tebok.

Provided they could find the ship. And provided those unknown attackers didn’t intercept their Kestrel to finish the job.


Duty to the Truth


STARDATE: 99835.4

“A lot is running on you, Commander. You remember the testimony you were instructed to give? That Breen warships attack your vessel?” said Captain James Williamson of the Bangor.

Lieutenant Commander Maria Vererez was the highest ranking officer that was rescued from the USS Palermo. As chief of sciences, she had been monitoring the sensor feeds of the Palermo before it was attacked by what everyone was claiming to be a rogue Breen faction.

There was one fundamental problem with that: She remembered the feeds vividly. And the signatures did not match any Breen vessels. Further, the weapons that were unleashed upon the Palermo were inconsistent.

“Sir… the sensor feeds did correspond to any known Breen vessels. That I know for a fact. The Romulans that picked us up…” Vererez was quickly cut off.

“I don’t want to hear anything more about unknown vessels. The black-box we recovered from the Palermo clearly indicates the Breen were responsible. You were shown the evidence too. Unless you are implying the team that recovered it is lying?”

The Bangor’s Captain glared intensely at the Commander. He was not amused. And further, he was determined to let this little story of ‘unknown vessels’ die before it reached their allies’ ear. Vererez begrudgingly nodded. Fundamentally, though, she remembered what she saw. The footage she saw once she recovered from her injuries was different. While nodding, she muttered.

“Just trying to sell me on this bullshit.” She then drew a breath. “Sorry sir. I understand sir.”

Captain Williamson softened his expression. His counterpart had been through a lot. Maybe he was being too harsh. He replied.

“You went through a lot. You saw your comrades perish. A lot is riding on you here though, Commander. The Romulan Senate wants to hear your testimony before they bring in elements of their own Military. For the sake of the alliance, we have to honor them. And besides, the Breen have been getting away with the incidents for far too long.”

None of it sat well. Though Commander Vererez nodded her head, she tried to remember who it was that had rescued them. A… RRW Tebok. But the Commander and her first officer she could not remember. As Captain Williamson departed, Vererez made her way to a computer.

“Computer, give me information on RRW Tebok. List the names of its senior staff.”

The Computer chirped to life, responding.

“RRW Tebok is an Aelahl Class Warbird operated by the Romulan Republican Force. Specific specifications are classified. Vessel is flagship of the 11th Expeditionary Flotilla, Subadmiral Miral Commanding. Commanding Officer of the Tebok is Commander Nathes. First officer is Commander Salil. Chief of Science is Lieutenant Shea.”

A long shot: But maybe they would be there. And maybe she could reach out to their direct allies, the 38th Fleet. The 38th Fleet had a good reputation. But she was going to have to ask Romulans for help. She did not trust her communications in her guest quarters. They were likely being monitored.

But she had a duty to the truth. This was her only chance. Otherwise, the truth would perish.


“The Enemy”


A number of Romulan Republic Intelligence officers were amassed around a computer. They listened carefully to an intercepted communique from Cardassian space. After their analysis, the same recording would be sent to their allies in Starfleet Intelligence.

Voice One: “You told me the RRW Tebok was not going to problem. I thought you would handle it like the USS Palermo and RRW Valdore.”

Voice Two: “They anticipated us. We did a number on them, but… they destroyed one of the prototypes.”

Voice One: “The Valdore destroyed two. The Tebok destroyed one. Now we only have seven left. Do you know how difficult it was to develop these? How many years of work?”

Voice Two: “There’s another problem too.”

Voice One: “Oh, ANOTHER problem? Maybe you should just broadcast our location. The RRF and Starfleet will gleefully have us in shackles once they catch wind of what we are doing. But spit it out.”

Voice Two: “One of the survivors of the Palermo… I believe she requested asylum in the Republic. I tried to take steps to ensure she blamed the Breen when the Romulan Senate summoned her. But… I could not keep her in check. She beamed aboard the Tebok. I don’t know how. I also believe she’s en route to the 38th Fleet. Some sort of transfer on Deep Space Nine? The USS Dragon?”

Voice One: “We are DROWNING in your failures, Captain. Have you done anything to fix your colossal FAILURES? Or are you going to tell me next that you, personally, informed the fucking Federation Council and Romulan Senate of what we are working on.”

Voice Two: “The Tebok will be handled. Our contact in the Breen Confederacy will be meeting with them soon. And handle them.”

Voice One: “I sure hope so for your sake, Captain. What we are working on… this is the future of all species. Your’s. Mine. Romulan Republic. Federation. They are lines on the galactic map. They don’t matter. We are close. We are so close to finding the Observatory.”

Voice Two: “The Observatory? That… that will change everything.”

Voice One: “Handle the Tebok. I will handle Starfleet. Then, when we are both done, meet me at the rendez-vous point.”

The transmission then fades.