Continuing the discussion from 126-in-the-shadows-of-angels:
Stardate: 100311 (roughly one month before the Romulan War, a few days following the events of Noble Isle)
The daily passages at the Jouret Gate in Romulan Republic space were not of much significance, but once and a while, an unusual sensor ping would pop up.
The Centurion sat up in his seat as his console lit up, “Subcommander, the Tachyon Grid has a ping on something heading toward the gate aperture.”
The Subcommander walked over to look at the screen, “Who thinks they can get through us under a cloak? Send a tag bounce, let them know we see them.”
“Ie, Rekkhai… er… they responded with an authentication code.” the centurion said with some confusion.
“What? Does it pass check?”
“Yes… though it doesn’t have any qualifier on it, just an approval stamp.”
The Subcommander rubbed his chin, he was about to order a tractor. This was a bit odd.
Before he could say it though the Commander of the Jouret Defense Fleet called in, “Subcommander, I expect you’re tracking a cloaked ship moving to gate passage?”
“Yes, they aren’t decloaking, but have an authentication code. I was going to stop them, watch shifts have reported this happening several times in the last few months.” the Subcommander said, almost in request.
“Right, but the code checks out, let it through. We’re working on a new system, but this one has special considerations. I’m not a fan personally, but Command has an agreement with this passenger.” he said simply.
The subcommander sighed, “Copy, Let it through Centurion.” he says as clearance is sent for passage. They never got a sensor pickup after the edge of the tachyon net, and the Iconian built gateway rarely showed indication of passage, so if they had moved through at this point, they couldn’t tell.
The Defense Fleet Commander, R’kan, closed the channel, “We need to find a better solution to these.”
“Much obliged partner, it was a busy day, forgot to call in early. We’ll have our next passes pre-scheduled, don’t you worry.” came the voice of another in the room. The other Romulan was on a holographic communication… but that wasn’t as notable as his attire and manner of speech. He looked like he’d seen one too many Earth Westerns, even had the cowboy hat.
The Commander spared a glance, “One of these days I’ll want to find out how you convinced Republic leadership to give you such access… and where you go over on the sphere side…” he said, but as he turned around, the other was gone. He hung up already? The Commander shuddered a bit.
“Next time then Khaz…” he said in reference to the mystery Romulan, not that he believed that was his actual name.
The sun shade high above the endless interior of the Solanae Sphere started pulling a shadow of faux night over a stretch of officially unclaimed territory several hundred million kilometers from the active areas shared by the Khitomer Alliance forces and stray remnants of Voth and other Delta Quadrant visitors from outside the sphere or from the Jenolan Gate.
A small city began to light up for the night underneath the watchful eye of a partially dilapidated Spire complex, which showed signs of being under refurbishment. The soft glow around the area had given the locals here the idea of name the town below Halation. Officially Halation had no government affiliation. It was just a community, mostly comprised of refugees living in a sort of self-stable autonomous collective. No one really knew the community existed, which is why they were so far from the areas patrolled by the major powers, and under a sensor blocking field emitted from the local Spire, which itself glowed in the fresh night a dusty silver light into the area that led to the town of Halation referring to their watcher eye as the Silver City.
It wasn’t really a city, but the interior of the spire was so vast it might as well be, as the ever expanding staff of the Liana Foundation operating it called it home. Technically the Silver City and Halation were both related, neither would exist without the other. It would be wrong to imply that the Foundation wasn’t responsible for any of this existing however.
After passing into the sensor damping field, the ship that passed through the gate a couple hours earlier finally decloaked, revealed as the LFS Jhu Ih’Stelam, a stark white recoloring of a refurbished Romulan T’varo the Foundation had purchases from the Republic years ago. The ship, known in Standard as the Star Angel, was unofficially the flagship of the organization, especially on days like this when it returned to home base.
“This is LFS Jhu Ih’Stelam, reply Silver City control, we’re back from the Simran Campaign. Full complement incoming.” the ship squaked to the Spire’s nav tower.
“Copy Star Angel, Docking slot 47 is open for you on the west side arch. Tell the Boss welcome home for us.” came back the reply.
Not long later as the T’varo glides into a berth and was locked down into docking clamps, it’s passengers and crew began the process of unloading and locking up the engine systems.
Walking into the docking bay as off loaders made their way in, Dren ir-Liathis, a barely middle aged Romulan who had nonetheless managed a few gray hairs ambled in and clapped his hands as others passed by, most nodding to him. Eventually he saw who he was looking for as Antia Liana-Tems and her ever present right hand Vehra’i appeared in view heading forward them, the Star Angels XO was shortly behind them, a Jem Hadar named Ikso’Talon, made up the rear.
“I heard the funniest story about this mission from Alidar!” Dren said in amusement toward the ladies.
“Ugh… the old man didn’t even wait to get home to start tattling on me?” Antia said in mild annoyance. “Fine… I got a little silly with this one.”
“Though… all said and done… this mission had the least amount of violence on your end compared to the past 3 missions.” Talon noted in his usual monotone stoic meter. He had a PADD in hand and was squinting at it. He was older for a Jem Hadar, supposedly having gotten modifications to extend his age. People said he was as old as the Dominion War even, but he was rarely asked because he was also a former cage fighter sometime later. He was a nice guy until he wasn’t.
“Wish I could say the same…” Vehra’i noted with an eyeroll.
“I had to limit my theatrics to make room for your stuff, plus we had the squid to worry about.” Antia said as they all kept walking. The Silver City was massive enough that everyone in the Foundation was able to find personal living spaces so far, but rarely were elements of the organization all there at the same time, save for the ones Antia and Alidar had direction to operate and refurbish the structure, not to mention coordinate with Halation to make sure they were doing well below them.
“Alidar mentioned you picked up a stray Starfleet officer, a Romulan even? Galaxy is getting really weird lately.” Dren noted out loud, referring to Veneela, who Antia had spent the last week helping out.
“I’m still surprised she didn’t try to recruit her.” Vehra’i said with a mild smirk.
“She wasn’t the type for this kind of life, besides, still reeling from being rejected by Valencia.” Antia said, hamming up her heartache a bit. Dren scoffed, Talon hummed a bit to himself, but Vehra’i smiled.
Vehra’i looked to Antia, “Speaking of rejection, I know you set me up back there. We don’t need to discuss this today… but you didn’t need to do all that.” she said, feeling Antia would understand she was referring to their close call with Imperial Romulan pursuers from one of the Empire’s transwarp gates they had borrowed to travel to Noble Isle. The people who had chased them had to be distracted by Vehra’i while Antia and Ven dealt with Simran.
They were people that Vehra’i knew though, and it was unlikely it was an accident. Antia was known to push situations to make people deal with their baggage. She never admitted it, but Antia hated leaving her friends with unresolved issues.
Stretching her arms behind her head as she walked, “You seem pretty ok with it now.” she said simply. Vehra’i gave a single short laugh.
The truth was, the leader of the shock troops was someone who, in Vehra’i former life as Mavia, had chased her down and tried to kill her for knowing too much about a botched mission Vehra’i was an Imperial Navy Sigint support officer on… among other issues related to Mavia’s peculiarities of character, a phrasing taken directly from a Tal Shiar report. The story was long and complex, and it ultimately led to her current life in the Qowat Milat, meeting Antia and the LF.
“I hate you sometimes… but thank you.” Vehra’i said simply. Antia was far too nonchalant about it, but she had helped her find some closure in the recent days to a section of her troubled past.
Antia was chaos on a good day, but she was also a force of sheer willpower. Vehra’i only ever knew one person in her life quite like it, but Antia was the more impressive. Vehra’i correctly calls Antia her personal lost cause, a reference to someone a Qowat Milat binds their sword to, but it was not because Antia was defenseless. It was because she would never stop working to save the galaxy from itself, one person at a time if necessary, no matter what any person, organization, or government thought of her. For that, Vehra’i loved her as well.
Chuckling, Dren added, “Sounds like a fun story, I can’t wait. Dinner at my place? I have a seasoned cut on Hlai on the smoker.” he said.
“Fresh Hlai? Halation is getting good at the livestock… it’s been so long…” Vehra’i says at the thought of the meal.
“Guess we’re coming over.” Antia says with a mild shrug, “You better have more home brew though.” she says as she shakes her near empty flask from her jacket pocket.
Dren groans a bit. Antia was not his biological daughter, but he spent a lot of years raising her, and somehow she ended up a chronic, yet functional, drinker.
As they reached a turbolift, a small kid ran out from behind a nearby crate and jumped at Antia with a knife. He couldn’t have been older than 14 years. Vehra’i didn’t recognize his exact species. Her arm did instinctively go up to grab the hilt of her sword, sheathed on her back, which Antia had named ‘Feathered Edge’ at one point and gifted her a decorative feather charm to hang off the hilt. Vehra’i didn’t ever actually grab the sword though, she knew she didn’t need to do anything.
As the kid jumped, Antia reflexively dropped her height, her hands raising to knock the kid’s knife hand to the side as she got his other arm in a joint lock and quickly threw him to the ground, “Ooh… so close this time Marni… you’re lucky I’m feeling generous today!” she says with a laugh as she reveals she now holds his knife.
The kid got up, laughing as well, but beating the floor, “I’ll get you yet!” the kid said, clearly not upset at his failure. Weather he was going to actually hurt Antia is something of an open question. No one watching this seems the slightest concerned though.
“Uh huh, sure, you tell yourself that.” Antia says as she tosses the knife once and hands it back to him, “Good knife though, finally got rid of those silly engravings I see.”
“Hey… I have engravings on my sword…” Vehra’i interjects.
“That’s nun stuff, Marni is just a dumb kid learning how to fight smarter.” Antia says brushing off her point. “Keep it up kid, you’re getting better.” she says shadow boxing with the kid a bit before he runs off.
There were a lot of kids like him, war orphans and refugees. Many who would have been slaves or child soldiers for someone else’s whims if LF hadn’t rescued them and given them a new purpose. Kids like Marni were a lot more despondent and angry when they first came here, Vehra’i was told. It took time and patience by the LF staff. Combat training helped them hone and redirect their anger, but as Antia liked to say: Anyone could use a knife or a gun, ultimately, they were teaching people how to use their heads.
As Vehra’i watched Marni run off, it was hard to believe he used to be so angry. But more to her interest, Antia always lit up when interacting with all the kids. She had a soft spot that most knew better to not shine a light on, but if there was a job relating to helping kids somewhere in the galaxy it was a good bet Antia would prioritize it over others regardless of what Alidar said to do. That’s also why they had just pickled with Simran’s organization… and apparently toppled it in the same week. Vehra’i was unsure if that was planned from the start, but she felt that sometimes it was better not to ask.
Ask they all entered the lift, Vehra’i considered part of Antia’s drive was to give kids like that a chance to live a real life, whether it was her kind of life, or using the skills they can learn in the Foundation to find one elsewhere in the galaxy, be it under an independent world or even in the Federation if they wanted.
Vehra’i smiled, and Antia looked over, “What…?” she said as if there was a joke she missed.
“Oh nothing… just another happy ending to a mission.” she said simply.
Antia smirked, “Yeah… good week.” she added, summarizing everything ever so simply as the doors closed.
-End-