The Tarpeans: Chapter IV - The Wild Romulan East

Posted on Wed Oct 5th, 2022 @ 11:21am by Captain Samuel Woolheater

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Rashaan Station - Federation Outpost
Timeline: The Past - A year or more
6385 words - 12.8 OF Standard Post Measure

[ON: The Tarpeans: Chapter IV - The Wild Romulan East]

The royal blue of the United Federation of Planets banner against the brilliant white logo of four stars, depicting the original founding members, Earth, Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar, was holding something back. The banner, the flag of the Federation seemed stretched. Misshapen, bloated and strained. Then, in the middle of the logo a pool of red blood stained the fabric. It grew, blotchy and thick until the whole of the banner was soaked in it. Then, it was picked up. Two marines picked up a hand gurney and lifted it from the floor. On it, underneath the Federation flag was a body. The blood having soaked through and forever stained on the flag the life of the victim underneath. Men, women and children had not been spared. And there were many. In one corner lay a book. Written in archaic Romulan, it was a copy of the Spurius Tarpeus, the "Unknowable Tarpeus". A Romulan sect, a rather extreme group of individuals following a rather mad 'prophet'. The chief and ugliest tenet of the Tarpeans is that they were racists. They believed that Romulans were, in fact, not offshoots from Vulcan. It was the other way around and they were the truest 'Sons of Tarpeus'. They were violent, dim witted, bent on chaos and fanatical in their belief that nothing - and no one - really mattered. They had been gaining power and influence over many Romulans and outworlders as well. Until they had built up a following that challenged, openly, in the streets the authorities, and they had been expelled from Romulus. But true eveil never goes away; it merely changes form. And in this form, they called themselves the "Followers of Tarpeus" although they were more simply known as "Tarpeans". Their book lay on the floor of Rashaan Station and the small fires that remained slowly, turned the pages brown and they smoldered and then they smoked and then they were in flames. The flames, like the zealotry of the Tarpean horde, burned the book, the lives and the mission of this diplomatic outpost in the Rashaan system.

One group of people suffered more than any other under the Tarpeans, Humans. One in five Humans had been killed since the Tarpeans had been expelled from Romulus. They found refuge in many places, even back on Romulus. Rashaan Station was the place where the Tarpeans conducted one of the most brutal acts of "racial and ethnic cleansing" in their history. The Tarpeans lined as many Humans as they could find and shot them at point blank range using their disruptor pistols. The bodies were piled high and five layers deep. When the disruptors ran out of charge, they killed the men, women and children with pikes. They hung others from the ceiling and left them there to die. In some places, it was a river of blood that flowed through the corridors.

One of the chief architects of this Tarpean policy lived on the nearby planet of Kiro. He lived and worked with Humans for almost two years. His name was Spornak. The very sound of his name filled people with terror. They knew who he was and what he was capable of. He was so vain, so self-glorifying, so pompous. Acting like a god among them. As if there were no higher authority as he gained influence over more and more people. And as for Humans, he treated them with great contempt. He claimed that he was merely doing the "will of the prophet Tarpeus" and that it was "his sacred duty to Tarpeus" to follow all the precepts in the book. He was heard to say in many gatherings that he was simply a "servant of Tarpeus, Tarpeus has told me, in my own ears, that the Humans must "leave or die". And that Tarpeus would "commands that Humans leave and that he would...ask no questions about their methods". He would say, "I am an instrument of the cleansing that needed to happen. A scalpel, a sword meant to cut away the decay". Spornak claimed that he was acting under a trance, in a state of ecstasy when he was possessed by the Prophet Tarpeus." And it was Tarpeus that was doing the killing.

But he lied.

For when Spornak sat in the Federation's Chief Diplomatic Office, he possessed the independence and power of a mighty feudal baron. This is the story of the last twenty hours of the Tarpean assault and occupation of Rashaan Station - and the murders of the human population that followed. When men like Spornak tried to turn this Federation outpost into the model Tarpean state.

There on the wall is his picture. See it smolder and smoke; now engulfed in flames.


OPEN SPACE - RENDEZVOUS BETWEEN THE USS HALE AND THE USS ATLAS


The Steamrunner-class USS Hale slowly peeled away from the larger Intrepid-class ship the USS Atlas.

"Captain's Log, Stardate 74665.3. The Atlas has just finished a rendezvous with the Hale. We have exchanged civilians who are being evacuated from the Rashaan system and taking on four marines from the Hale. In seventy-two hours, we will meet back, and I hope it is with better news. The Romulan extremist sect, the 'Tarpeans' have reportedly executed every Human person who would not convert to Tarpeus, on the Federation outpost of Rashaan Station on the edge of Romulan and Federation space. Technically, the station is at the LaGrange point between the two territories, and no one has jurisdiction. I'd like to kick the ass of the diplomatic group that negotiated that bright idea. The Atlas, with our complement of a full marine regiment, space superiority fighters has been charged to get to Rashaan and assess the situation. Captain Pragg, Commanding Officer USS Atlas.

The Hale, when she was clear and free to navigate, then leapt to warp. On the transporter pad, four marines materialized. The bosuns whistle piped them aboard. 2nd Lieutenant Samuel Woolheater, dressed in his combat gear, a three-day beard and with his rifle, stepped off the transporter pad with three other marines from the Hale. They were welcomed by the Colonel's adjutant for the Atlas. A 1st Lieutenant who greeted them, "Welcome to the Atlas marines. We're glad that Captain Hammond could spare you. We'll get you back to your ship in seventy-two hours. One of the marines from the Hale asked, "What if the OP takes longer than that?" The young lieutenant shook his head, "It won't. Come? Let me take you to the briefing room. The Major will explain everything to you there."

They left the transporter room and followed. The Atlas was a newer ship. Designed as a combat and inter-diction battle cruiser, she was built for a fight. This far out and at the fringes of Federation space, one needed the muscle that the Atlas could bring. It was a mostly marine ship. And it had all the bells and whistles that Sam could have ever wanted. They boarded the turbolift and went for the bridge to be presented to the ship's Captain and the marine Major named Hunter Trapper Fisher.

It was good luck to touch the ship's dedication plaque and Sam ran his fingertips over it as he passed.

USS ATLAS
Intrepid-class - Starfleet Registry - NCC-5239-D
Caelestius Navis Re Fleet Yards, Sersa, Fontalis
Fifth Starship to Bear the Name
Commissioned Stardate 71025.5

Chief of Staff Admiral Nichelle Nichols
Design Engineer: David McCullough
Built by Universal Spacecraft Systems

"I am the owner of the sphere,
Of the seven stars and the solar year.
Of Caesar's hand, and Plato's brain,
Of Atlas's heart, and Shakespeare's strain"
-Ralph Waldo Emerson


USS ATLAS - BRIEFING ROOM

Major H.T. Fisher welcomed them in his usual curt style, "Well, I'll be! Four more marines are a fuckin' battalion to this old man. Grab a seat, welcome aboard marines from the Hale. Get your butts in a chair and listen up. I'm going to break this down, Barney style." Major Fisher had just finished the tactical analysis of Rashaan Station and how to take it. A tall, lanky marine, he had a moustache that was white and bushy. "Where's our shooter?" Samuel raised his hand, "Right here Major". Major Fisher looked at him. "Alright. You're going in with the first platoon. Normally, you'd be doing overwatch for your battalion; but you'll be taking point and leading the rest of the first platoon at the sharp end of the spear."

Sam nodded, "Yut!"

"Alright, the tactical analysis is complete. Lieutenant? Make sure that these marines are briefed. OK. The situation is this. Starfleet Command and the Federation Council thought it would be a good idea to have a presence out here as a kind of backdoor to the Romulan Empire. Rashaan Station was used as that back door. It was situated in neutral space, between the Romulan Star Empire and open space. No one has jurisdiction here. Let's just say the Romulans never liked this back door. And you can bet that Starfleet Intelligence used this place as much as they could. Forty-eight hours ago, a distress call was sent out from Rashaan. Before I let you see what we got I want to warn you that what you are about to see may anger most of you. And some of you are going to get it in your heads that this is going to be some fuckin' crusade to revenge people. Let me remind you that we are marines; not vigilantes. Awright. Let's see it." he said as the image of the Rashaan Outpost came on the screen.

The video feed began. On it was a Romulan cleric. He was seated in what must have been the Diplomatic Attaché’s office. It overlooked the second floor of the atrium on the Promenade below. Behind him, while he spoke, Starfleet personnel, human security and marines were lined up and shot at point blank range. While that was going on the speaker said, "To the people of the Federation. I am Spornak, servant of the Unknowable Prophet Tarpeus. All Humans are to leave Romulan space immediately. In accordance with the will of Tarpeus, I am sending to him to souls of your people where they will be judged. We want a pure Romulan State. Romulus for Romulans. The cleansing has begun."

The video feed was paused, and Major Fisher said, "Enough of that shit. OK. You can see that a Romulan cult has taken over Rashaan station and has either executed every living human or they soon will. We know that their base is on the planet Kiro not far from the station. How they gained control, why they are doing this now are all academic questions for people with more brains than you apes. Our job is to recover that station and sort out who's left. And by Jove that's what we're going to do. There are unusually high neutrino emissions. That could indicate that cloaked ships are nearby. And maybe the Romulan Senate has a larger hand in this than they are letting on. Doesn't matter. Atlas carries the weight of the mission and we always deliver. This is not a secret squirrel mission either. We've got eyes on and nothing to hide. We're going in shields up and phasers hot. Get to your shuttles and board that outpost and you give anyone wearing a robe the Atlas hello. Briefing adjourned." All the marines then said, "OOHRAH!" which was loud and firm.

Sam asked a fellow marine, "What's the 'Atlas hello'?" The marine pointed at him making a rifle with his hands. "The hot end of the barrel."


RASHAAN STATION - OUTPOST DESIGNATION - REGULA CLASS - 0400 HOURS

Two Danube-class runabouts left the shuttle bay of the larger Intrepid Atlas. The first runabout carrying the first platoon with Lieutenant Woolheater was the Klamath and the one carrying the second platoon was the Rogue. As they flew, Rashaan Station loomed ahead. It was a Regula-class outpost station. The sight of it made Sam's blood run cold. Against the backdrop of the nearest star Kiro, it looked creepy. It's red marker beacons flashing. The antenna, like horns on its head all of it gave Sam a bad feeling. "Any lifesigns?" he asked. The co-pilot answered, "The same as before. All located in the Atrium and all of them Human." Sam looked at the other marines, "Great". The 1st LT that was in command stood by and said nothing. He exchanged a look with Woolheater, and it being unsaid - they smelled a trap.

The Klamath landed first and boarded, The Rogue landed on the opposite side and they boarded second. They would meet in the middle, in the Atrium.

The airlock doors opened. Samuel had point. The eight marines entered cautiously and carefully. The station looked completely normal. Except that it was in low-power mode. Sam made a hand signal and the marine tech operator access the main computer from the nearest LCARS interface. "I'm in. Accessing. Internal sensors are offline. They're in maintenance mode. Using the standard Administrator access - not the protected access code." Sam knew that that meant that the stations Starfleet staff had either entered the wrong code; or they were forced to give that code and the station was not what it appeared. They did a COMM check with the second platoon and they had similar findings.


USS ATLAS - HOLDING PERMITER

"It's a trap Captain" Major Trapper said. The captain nodded, "You bet it is. Tactical? Report."

The Tactical Officer said, "High levels of neutrino radiation. More than background. Seems to be emanating from all around us." The Major and the Captain exchanged a look. The captain said, "Spin up the San Gabriel and the Shasta. I have a bad feeling about this." Major Hunter said, "I do too" and then left the bridge to take command of the marine operation. The Captain said, "Keep an eye on those neutrino levels. Take us into thirty-thousand kilometers and start sensor sweeps. Hail Rashaan on all frequencies. And everyone? Stay frosty."

As the Atlas drew closer, a PTZ torpedo appeared out of nowhere and struck the marine ship from astern. "RED ALERT! Bring us about. What hit us?" The Tactical officer responded, "High energy projectile. Looks like a PTZ (phased-torpedo-zennemayer spectrum)." The PTZ was a banned ship to ship weapon. It was a torpedo that was in flux. As soon as it left the torpedo launcher, it activated a Zennemayer-Spectrum field which took the torpedo out of phase with normal space. Not quite sub-space and not quite normal space. The principal benefit was that one could not lock on to the torpedo, track it or use shields. The downside was that they were short lived, often exploding as they phased back into normal space, and they tended to not steer too well. Once being fired, they tended to follow a straight path. The captain grew pale and took his seat, "Full impulse, put some distance between us and Rashaan." "Shields are useless Captain!" "Here come more!!" "On screen" the voices of the crew all were talking at once. Three more torpedoes tore into the Atlas.


RASHAAN STATION

Sam looked at the platoon CO as he said, "Atlas is under attack." Sam didn't flinch, they had been setup. Which meant that whoever had taken the station was probably here too. "We stick to the original plan. We must establish whether or not we have any civvies here. Keep your eyes fuckin' peeled everyone. Let's move." And the two platoons started to move towards the Atrium.

From a monitor somewhere, the voice of Spornak said, "My brothers...its time." And perhaps as many as three or four dozen of the Tarpeans left with Romulan disruptor rifles and pistols.

The marine CO, who was also on point with Woolheater said, "We need another option." Sam looked at him and said, "Well. I have one. But you ain't going to like it." They stopped. Some persons were approaching ahead. They used their tactical tricorders, but they were useless with all the neutrino radiation in the area. The readings were inconclusive at best. "Yeah - what you got?" Sam said in a whisper, "The life signs are obvious bait. They plan to kill us just like they did with the marine detachment that was here on Rashaan. They already know our protocols. This is a classic setup. We need to linkup with the second platoon. Get to environmental control or engineering. Take control from their and recover control of the station. Then, we go compartment by compartment and we ice these shitheads."

The 1st LT thought about. "You're right. I don't like it. Shit! Can you get to either of those places?" Sam said, "Yeah...I can do it." The CO nodded, "Do it. We'll link up with the second platoon at the Atrium. Looks like we've got company. On your way marine."

Sam nodded and slung his rifle over his back. He opened his tactical tricorder and created a downlink from the Atlas and the last, known, good station layout blueprints. He searched and found an accessway that was used for conduits. He turned and left and then finding the access panel, opened it, climbed inside and closed the panel after him. The only blessing he could see is that with the station bathed in errant neutrino emissions, everyone else's sensors for life signs would be screwed up too. Sam pulled himself along, quietly and quickly as he moved. As Sam disappeared into the conduit, the 1st platoon of marines fanned out and took defensive positions. Sam could only listen as the situation in the station was rapidly escalating.


USS ATLAS - SHUTTLE BAY

The San Gabriel and the Shasta runabout came online and were boarded with the third and the fourth platoons. Major Fisher said, "Atlas will try and draw their fire. But you're going to have to make a bold move out there. Unknown number of hostiles. But I'm not going to allow a bunch of religious zealots kill Federation citizens and then more marines. You are the cavalry." The runabout's closed their hatches and lifted off. They exited the shuttle bay forcefields and accelerated into open space. The pilot of the San Gabriel said to the pilot of the Shasta, "Now they have two more targets to shoot at. These guys can't even shoot straight. This'll be a cakewalk."

USS ATLAS - BRIDGE

A panel exploded sending sparks and debris in a thick cloud of smoke. "DAMAGE REPORT!" the captain shouted. "We are taking direct fire from a slow-moving target bearing 030 by 025 mark 150. One-hundred kilometers." The captain said, "That's so close! Keep us between the source of fire and the runabouts. Atlas can take it. I don't see anything on the tactical display?"

The Science Officer stepped in and said, "Captain? I have an idea." The captain turned and said, "I'm all ears!" Turning in her chair, the younger Vulcan science officer said, "Normally, high neutrino readings indicate a cloaked vessel. Conventional tactical analysis dictates that cloaked ships cannot fire." The captain finished the sentence, "But this one can?" Turning to her console, she continued, "I believe we are dealing with a new weapon but and old trick."

The helmsman shouted, "INCOMING FIRE!" and this time it was a volley. About a dozen torpedoes and the Atlas just had to take it. All the torpedoes found their mark. And the shield grid of the Intrepid class marine ship nearly collapsed. But it didn't. "Shields?" "Shields at...thirty-percent” The captain got out of his chair and came alongside the science officer. "If we take another hit like that, we'll lose the shields. Options?"

"I believe we are dealing with an abandoned class of Romulan warcraft. A Populous-class orbital bombardment platform." The captain looked at the schematics and an overlay of the sensor visual scans and they seemed to be a perfect fit. "Populous class? I've never heard of it." The science officer continued. "Nevertheless, I believe that this is our adversary. The high neutrino emissions keep the vessel cloaked. It's slow moving, but it packs a hefty salvo of power." The captain nodded, "Thank you Gravik!" The captain took the center chair, "Helm, bring us about to 1-9-0 heading 0-3-0. Tactical? Scan for neutrino eddies. Evidence of a ship turning." The officer acknowledged. "Load all torpedo bays. Short range, maximum yield, point-blank. We're going to shove it right down their throats."


RASHAAN STATION

Sam listened on the COMM as heard the firefight going down. It was hard to hear. It was difficult not to do anything but crawl in a tube. He could hear that both platoons were taking losses and pinned down. Finally, he made it to the end. He should be at Environmental Controls. Sam didn't know whether there was anybody on the other side of the hatch. If he were in command, he'd put a guard or two here. So, he suspected that there might be someone. He got his rifle and chambered a round. Then, he unlocked the panel and swung it open. Nothing. He looked left and then right. There at the end of the catwalk was a guard. Using the panel as defilade, he aimed, slowly, carefully and made a kill shot. One down. Sam exited the tube and when he landed on the catwalk, a phaser beams nearly hit him. He rolled on the catwalk and coming up on his knees a fired off another round. It hit the target and green blood splattered onto the wall behind him. Sam waited and listened. Nothing more. He called to his CO, =A= El Tee...I'm at EC. I'll see what I can do =A=

Sam went to a control panel, using his authorization codes he was able to access environmental controls. He tried to look for some knock out gas like Anesthizine or some other gas. He was no chemist, and he didn't know. He tried accessing the main computer for assistance, but it was off-line. A smart move by the Tarpeans. There was another problem. Without the main computer, he could not release any gas into any system accurately. In some cases, it would be too much and in others it would be not enough. His plan was falling apart. In the meantime, he heard the battle raging. Anything he knew how to do would also adversely affect his fire team. "SHIT!" he said. He didn't know how to properly operate the equipment to do what he wanted. He scanned the controls.....LIFE SUPPORT.

THE ATRIUM

The fire fight was fierce! Weapons were being fired from nearly every angle. The 1st and 2nd platoons were cut off from each other. There was a spot where they could get across and link up. But it was open ground. As they returned fire, the Tarpeans were gaining the upper ground on the second level. There were no surviving Humans. Their bodies, the marines that protected them, they had all been killed. A fake life-signs emitter was running. Someone shot it and it exploded. The 1st LT called to hold this position. The firefight continued. Blast marks, disruptor fire, small burning fires and marines getting picked off one by one. It was not looking good.


ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS

LIFE SUPPORT was green and lit. Sam was sweating, people were counting on him to do something. There was no time to go to Engineering. Suddenly, a shot from behind took out the control port to LIFE SUPPORT. Sam dove for cover and looked. He could see three, no four Tarpeans take positions. One above him and three on this level. They started firing and the control panels here were all shot up. Sam barely had time to get cover and get to the other side of the console. He checked his TR-116 and wiping the sweat from his brow, he got to his feet and aiming high, found the upper Tarpean. He squeezed off the round and the Tarpean no longer had a head. That resulted in some foul language from the Tarpeans and a volley of fire from the three remaining attackers. Sam could hear them moving closer and he knew that they were going to ambush him. But from which way? He was sweating and his heart was thundering in his chest. He knew that if he made the wrong choice, he was dead. On the left, the way he came was wide. On his right, it was narrow and there was a ladder. He decided that two would come from the left and one from the right. Sam reached for his K-BAR knife. He unlatched it from his right thigh and spun it in his hand. He closed his eyes and fought the fear. He imagined what was about to happen. He had the vision of what was about to happen in his head. He could see it all, like he was watching it all happen before. He chambered a round. He was nervous and he took a breath. He heard the footsteps on the left and saw the shadow...the shadows. There were the two. On the right, he saw the feet of one descending the ladder.

Rifle in his left hand, K-BAR in his right, he moved. Stepping out just enough to squeeze off a round into the first Tarpean's chest and pivoting to the right, he threw the knife has hard as he could to the Tarpean on the base of the landing platform and the ladder. The knife sunk into the fleshy part of the man's abdomen. The second Tarpean on the left fired at Sam but it was a messy disruptor shot and it only glanced off his body armor. Woolheater, landing back first into the opposite wall took the second Tarpean out. Three religious nutjobs lay dead. He breathed a sigh of relief as his right arm was a little bit roasted from the disruptor. He retrieved his K-BAR and wiped the blood off on the dead Tarpean. He returned it to the sheath. Sam had no time to lose, he could hear the firefight was getting worse, not better. He looked at what control he had left on any of the remaining working control stations. He found "ATMOSPHERIC RENEWAL". He stood in front of it and saw that he could increase the pressure and that would turn to steam. It was something. He activated the controls and an alarm sounded. "ATMOSPHERE RENEWAL IN NEGATIVE MODE". He was focused on it and when he heard the footstep of someone behind him it was too late.

"Turn around. Slowly." Sam lifted his hands off the control board and slowly turned around. There was one more Tarpean. He had a disruptor pointed at Sam. From this range, it was death for sure. With both his hands up, the Tarpean disarmed Sam of his rifle and his K-BAR. "You killed my friends" the Tarpean said. "You have shitty friends" Sam said. The Tarpean slammed the butt end of his weapon into Sam's stomach, and he made him kneel. Hands on his head. He was going to be ritually executed.


USS ATLAS - BRIDGE

The LCARS panel now related the tactical specs from Starfleet Intelligence about the Populous-class orbital bombardment platform ship. Essentially, it was a brick in space. On all sides it bristled with torpedoes and phaser emitters. They were totally computer controlled and these nasty things could fire when cloaked. But they were slow and stupid.

"Captain, movement! Neutrino eddy at 120 mark 055. Range 80 kilometers!" The captain said, "Light 'em up!" The tactical officer tapped a few buttons and then fired. The Atlas forward phasers ignited and then arced from the sides to the front when they focused their beams on the Romulan brick. The torpedoes fired from their launchers and despite not being able to accurately target the brick - the volume of fire knocked out the shield generators and the neutrino emitters. The Populous class vessel became visible on the forward screens. "Target that brick and fire."

Now, it was easy. And the brick lit-up and exploded. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, "Scan for more neutrino emissions. I find it hard to believe that these assholes don't have a ride home." The Tactical officer and helmsman both responded, "Captain? I believe the Shasta and the San Gabriel have engaged the other ship?" "On screen!" The main viewer changed and now on the screen were the two runabouts. They were firing on a Romulan scout ship that had remained cloaked and on a Federation runabout from Rashaan Station. "Identify the Federation runabout?" the captain ordered.

"Identifying. It's the Kern. It's emitting neutrino emissions too. They must have installed a cloak on that ship as well?" The captain said, "Bring us in. Let's go get our people."


ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS

Sam was struck across the face with a pistol. His lip was bleeding. "You disgust me. You're all animals! Your species, you are all just.... talking monkeys!” Sam teased, “Have you been talking to my old girlfriends? They said the same thing about me.”

The Tarpean was not amused and kicked him. “I hate your language, you smell. You think you are so enlightened and you’re nothing but a race of primates and savages!" the Tarpean said as he prepared to kill the human marine. He grabbed Sam by the throat. He squeezed to choke him, "I can feel the blood in your veins, when you are dead, I will light it on fire.”

“Mmmm...my blood will burn better if I have a couple drinks in me first.”

“How does it feel to be so weaponless?"

He let go and Sam fell to the ground and coughed and caught his breath, "Oh...I'm far from weaponless. I have still got my mouth to give you sass!" That resulted in a punch across the face. "Get up. On your knees. I am going to fry you from the inside out on the lowest, hottest setting..." Sam jumped him and tackled the Tarpean. The Romulan knew some martial arts and it was a fight. But Sam drew his knife again. And he landed a blow into the Romulan's side. That should have done it, but it did not and the Romulan got up again, withdrew the knife and now attacked the lone marine again. He parried the attack, got in close then got his arm around the neck, applied pressure, and heard the neck snap. As the Tarpean man exhaled his last, his chest exploded, and green blood went everywhere. Sam looked around as the body dropped to the floor. Sam said, “Dammit!!” Then he saw two marines step through the door followed by a fire team. "Greetings! From the Atlas!" was the call. Marines from the San Gabriel had boarded the station and had made their way to this location. Sam was sweaty, grimy, covered in blood. He said, "He was already dead! I had this. You saw right?" They smiled, "You’re welcome. And sure, whatever you say LT. Come on shooter. Grab your shit."

He was glad to see them. He retrieved his K-Bar a second time and wiped it on the dead man's clothing and returned it to his sheath. Sam was called to point, and they proceeded with haste to the Atrium.


THE ATRIUM

The firefight that ensued lasted about twenty minutes. It was fierce and terrible. Four marines had been shot and killed. Sam had lost track of how many Tarpeans. But something wasn’t right. Sam got on his COMM and called the CO,

=A= El Tee? Where is the leader? Spornak? Why no demands, why is just a bloodbath. Something’s not right?! =A=

=A= What do you want me to do about it marine? Ask for the leader to please stand up?! =A=

=A= No sir. I want to get around their six. LT, these fuckers are here to hold this ground no matter what. We should be asking what is so damn important that they won’t give up? =A=

=A= They’re fanatics, this is what they do. =A=

More firing and Sam had to move. As he did so, a group of four Tarpeans rushed that marine position and overran their position. It was an ugly fight to the death. As they fought. Sam took a hit. Down he went. The armor saved his life but his COMM and sensor array in the EV suit were destroyed. They were cut off from the group and there were just three marines left. Sam told them that they were going to get around the Tarpeans rear and find out what they were protecting. Every meter they had to fight for.

Finally, Sam got eyes on what was so damn precious that these Tarpean ass hats were willing to die for. Inside the airlock that led to a shuttle bay stood Spornak. And in front of him was a young child. The child bore a striking resemblance to Spornak. Nearby was a human woman, who Sam guessed was the mother. The shuttle bay doors were open and there was the hatch to a cloaked shuttle. Spornak was going to make a run for it. And he was using his family as a shield. Woolheater could not relay the intel and so he told another marine what was going on and had him relay it to the platoon CO.

The order came back as only two words: “Your call”

“Shit!” Sam said.

All around them, the marines were closing in and the Tarpeans were losing ground. Sam decided to take out Spornak.

“You can’t make that kind of a decision. They will fry your fuckin’ ass!” the other marine said. Sam said, “There’s no time. No leader. No cause. Nothing to die for. I’m taking the shot. Cover me!”

There was much cursing.

Sam quickly lined up his shot. He made damn sure that this shot would drop that man. The mother was pleading with him, the child was crying, and they kept moving around. A bead of sweat slowly travelled down Sam’s forehead and was going to drip in his eye. It hit his eyebrow and slowed. If the salty bead made it to his eye he would lose. So, he took aim, the best he could and fired!

He missed.

The round hit the bulkhead just behind Spornak. The cult leader took his wife and shot her on the spot. She fell backwards and pushed the kid out of the way. Sam fired again and hit Spornak in the shoulder. At the same time, a Tarpean managed to get to Sam’s position and killing the other marine he drove his pike into Samuel leg, narrowly missing Woolheater’s femoral artery. Sam yelled in pain and using the knife one more time, stabbed it into the Tarpean killing him.

Spornak managed to board the cloaked shuttle and lifted off the pad Sam could only guess. Sam watched as the shuttle uncloaked and was going to open fire on the station and kill anybody that was left.

Sam’s heart sunk at being defeated.

But, behind the shuttle, the profile of the Atlas appeared and fired a volley of two torpedoes and phasers. And that was the end of Spornak. His ship exploded on the spot. The station rocked but held. And the dozen or so Tarpeans that were left, surrendered.

LATER

Blood soaked his pants and a makeshift tourniquet from ODN cable kept Sam on his feet. Long enough to see Major Hunter Trapper Fisher materialize along with a dozen medics. It would be hours before thy were done with all the wounded and the dead. The medics patched Sam up very well. He had a limp, but that would be better over time.

The Major looked around at the carnage and asked, “Why? How is that a cultured people like the Romulans could ever allow such a man as Spornak and his followers?”

The next day, cleanshaven, cleaned up and in a fresh uniform, Sam stood in front on an LCARS panel and read the statistics:

300 Dead
77 Wounded
11 Missing

Project Outpost “Rashaan”: Terminated

The numbers didn’t tell half the story. The kid? He survived. Sam never saw him after the medics took him away, sedated. How could this have happened? Sam wondered as he stood outside the transporter room. The Hale arrived, Sam said his goodbyes to a few of the marines that he had fought so hard with over that past day. It was a sobering lesson.

” No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught love, for love comes more naturally to the heart that its opposite. – Nelson Mandela”

Reunited with marines from the Hale they ascended the steps and stood on the transporter pad. The transporter operator asked, “Hell of a mission? So I heard?”

Sam nodded, he looked at the two other marines and turning back to face front said, “Hell of a mission. Energize.”

[OFF:]

1st Lieutenant Samuel Woolheater
“Saepius Exertus, Semper Fidelis, Frater Infinitas”
Division VI, MARDET 62nd Company "Spartans", 1st Platoon CO
=/\= USS ELYSIUM - NCC-89000 =/\=

 

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