The Tarpeans - Chapter VI - Fighting to the End
Posted on Wed Nov 2nd, 2022 @ 2:25pm by Captain Samuel Woolheater
Edited on on Fri Nov 4th, 2022 @ 5:44pm
Mission:
MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Rashaan Sector - the Planet Kiro
Timeline: The past - over a year ago
8331 words - 16.7 OF Standard Post Measure
[ON: The Tarpeans: Chapter VI – Fighting to the End]
The planet Kiro was the birthplace of the Tarpean movement. It was also the birthplace of its founder, centuries ago, Inceptiux Tarpeus. Not much is known about Tarpeus himself. What little we do know comes from the Tarpeans themselves. Namely, that the Tarpeans claimed that they were the original “Sons of Romulus” and the Vulcan society fell away from them and Vulcan was the offshoot. An idea that has been clearly disproven by evidence and history.
In fact, what the Tarpeans tried to hide is much more enlightening. Inceptiux Tarpeus was born on Kiro at a time when the border wars within the early Romulan empire were being waged. Kiro was in the Romulan eastern edge, the fringes. So, an alliance with Romulus and the military might seemed a logical choice. When the border wars had been settled, the planet Kiro faded from prominence and back into obscurity at the edge of the empire to being nearly forgotten.
As disquiet, contempt and economic depression threatened Romulus itself in the latter part of the 24th century, the time was ripe for an old hatred to resurface. Ever since the early 2100’s the Tarpeans started to influence the politics of the Romulan Senate. In 2116, they gained a foothold in the government by winning an important seat in the Senate. And as tensions with the Federation simmered, that anger was nurtured, and an old alliance was reforged. The planet Kiro sought to be a power once again. So, an alliance, albeit unofficial, between the Romulan state and the Tarpean movement seemed a natural one.
But then the unthinkable happened, on a summer’s eve in 2195, Romulus entered conflict with the Federation. Later that year, the planet Kiro was infiltrated and one of the secret extermination camps at Invoxum was conceived and the camp founded. The Tarpeans quickly moved to hide the camp and cover up their crimes. But by the time Starfleet Intelligence had information about what had happened and what the Tarpean’s were trying to hide – the secret in Romulan society was out. It is not clear just how many Romulans knew of the existence of places like Invoxum. But the general population of Kiro had to have known about the mass extermination of people who didn’t agree with them.
When word of this reached the Romulan Praetor and Senate they knew they had to publicly distance themselves from the cult that had quietly been doing the work the Romulans could not.
By 2396, in a proxy war with Starfleet Intelligence, nearly 200,000 Kirons, the local indigenous people of Kiro, not at all even related to the Romulan people, were dead or missing. The Kiron’s desire to unite and become a power the Romulus, now some 200 years old, had resulted in nothing but disaster. They had aligned themselves with a cryptic cult and now their leader was dead. The Kiron’s and the Romulans wanted out of the alliance with the Tarpeans.
And the same night in 2396, the Kiron Council secretly met and expressed their “lack of confidence” in Tarpean might and in the leadership and lack thereof for the Tarpean cause. They wanted out. They voted that Kiron would renounce the Tarpeans and the movement and that the planet Kiro would formally request assistance from the Federation Council to address the cult.
A Romulan Senator, an envoy for the Praetor and Admiral Jens Erok, summoned the Tarpean ministers to their regular meeting place at the Kiron capital. At this time, the Tarpeans followed their elected monk. A man named Solikuu and he was sent along with two bodyguards. He was told by the Kiron President and the Romulan envoy that the alliance was over.
At 1900 hours that evening, Solikuu and the two Tarpean bodyguards stepped out of the capitol building and were arrested on the spot and taken away to prison on Kiro. The Kirons were ecstatic. They were free from the influence of the Tarpean cult, and they could ally with their former enemy in this proxy war, the Federation for military for the muscle they would need to defend against the Tarpeans.
The first act the Kirons did was to surrender. Three months later, the government of Kiro requested the assistance of the Federation on humanitarian grounds. And a month after that, the Kirons were helping Starfleet hunt down and capture any remaining pockets of Tarpean resistance or the establishment of new Tarpean cultic centers.
How could it happen?
If the Kirons could do this in in 2395, a full two years before the proxy war ended, why couldn’t the Romulans remove themselves from Tarpean influence and power?
Why were the Romulans and the Tarpeans still fighting to the end?
==========
ROMULUS – THE ROMULAN IMPERIAL SENATE – 557TH LEGISLATIVE SESSION – PETITIONS AND DEBATES – THAT AFTERNOON
The morning had been filled with routine state business. Everything that was needed to keep the wheels of government turning and the trains to “run on time”. One small measure, seemingly innocuous enough, we to limit the off-world districts from any speech greater than three minutes. This seemingly minor amendment to the legislative process did not go unnoticed by the Tarpeans. In fact, one might say that it was expressly designed for the Tarpeans. The Tarpean representative in the senate, however, knew exactly what this would do if passed. And today was the day to stop it – if he could. The senate chamber was not well attended this morning. But by the afternoon, there wasn’t a place to sit – standing room only. And when the Praetor called for any new petitions and their debate, one man stood up. It had been long expected that the Tarpeans would not willingly lay down their power and influence in the senate. And a hush came over the assembly as he stood.
His name is Hegek. He stood, dramatically dressed in his flowing black robes of the Tarpean order. He rose with his mask on. Chromium silver, with red war paint on the face in a ghastly kind of display of “unknowingness”. But he removed the mask before he spoke. He put it in the crook of his arm, still visible, like some severed head. He pulled back his hood revealing his gray hair and worry-lined face. Everything the Tarpeans did was calculated for effect. Everything.
The Praetor said, “The Praetor recognizes the representative from Kiro.”
“My Praetor, brothers and sisters of the senate. My name is Hegek. I am from Kiro and I am a member of the Tarpean order. The Romulan Empire is coming to an end. The Romulan economy is being drained by wars on all our borders and our vast military expansion across our territory to counter these threats from within and without the Empire. It is burthened by growing deficits along with the devastating effects we still endure from the Dominion War. Our trade agreement with the other powers in the quadrant have crippled us. And we are saddled with debt.”
Hegek remained where he stood even as some Romulan senators tried to shout him down, “Our Empire has been captured and destroyed by outside influences of the Federation and other regional power that seek our downfall, our collapse and our ultimate elimination. We lost the power…and respect…needed to induce allies to do our bidding. The galaxy no longer fears our very name. And I can remember, as many of you can, when the mention of our name was motivation enough to bend to our will. Add to this, the growing disillusion of the people in what it even means to be…Romulan? And you have a recipe for dystopia my brothers and sisters. But I am just a Tarpean. From the planet Kiro. So, what could I possibly know that would help this great senate assembly?”
Hegek slowly stepped out into the aisle and, on the steps started to walk towards the front of the amphitheater style chamber. “I may be from a backwater world of the empire. And I may be from an order that society has deemed…aggressive, disordered, racist and…at times…violent. I am, we Tarpeans are, patriots. A word that is not appreciated as it should be here in this chamber. Overseeing this dissent, at the highest levels of our society, yes…this body…and that Praetor…”.
Here, a gasp of shock went up from the senators. The Imperial guards took a stance. No one – ever – said such accusations in the senate chamber before.
“Ahh…so you do care about something? Then I tell you now that you are all – a motley collection of imbeciles, fools, thieves, con artists, opportunists, war mongering generals...and yes, I am also speaking about the Romulan Praetor, the Romulan Senate and the Romulan people.”
The chamber erupted into shouting and standing. Hegek remained calm, strangely…calm. He carried that ghastly mask in the crook of his arm, and he seemed entirely unafraid and unassailable. After a minute, order was restored and Hegek continued, “THE EMPIRE!! The. Empire. Will limp along, steadily losing influence until the Romulan denarii is no longer the alternative currency to the Federation credit. Plunging the Empire into a crippling depression and…instantly…forcing a massive contraction of the Romulan military machine. It does not take a genius to see that this is already happening.”
“Short of a wide-spread and popular revolt among the people – which does not seem likely – the death spiral appears unstoppable. Meaning that the Romulan Empire that we grew up with, the one we serve today, the one we fight for…will no longer exits. Within the decade…or at most, two. This…is why the people of Romulus, of Kiro and therefore you and your Praetor elected…us. Because Tarpeus gives us the clarity and focus that you do not possess.”
Hegek had been slowly walking toward the front of the senate chamber. He was now on the floor of the senate chamber and was moving, slowly towards the center…and the Praetor’s chair. The Imperial Guards noticed this too. Hegek continued, “The vacuum that the quadrant will feel when we are eliminated will be substantial. It may be filled by the Federation. Many of you secretly would welcome a Federation hegemony. I would not. Perhaps, if the Federation does not fill the void, some combination of the other powers would? You may be thinking of the Ferengi Alliance? The Klingon Empire? The Niberaites? The Tzenkethi? All of them possible; none of them worthy to follow in our footsteps.”
Hegek now stood with his back to the Praetor and faced the Senate members, “And maybe the future is one that none of us can even begin to imagine. Where there is no vision, the people perish. Under every measure that we can think of, financial, technological, infrastructure, militarily, in science and even our culture…we are being absorbed. Erased. Melting into…the Federation.”
There was an unease now. It lingered in the air. The air grew denser, perfumed from some unseen censer swung by unseen hands. Until the air was still and silent. Hegek was a master of the dramatic and he knew how to speak and hold an audience. “But you don’t need me to tell you this. I am just a Tarpean and worse yet, a Tarpean from Kiro. While our own Romulan Star Navy has issued this sobering report a year ago now.” Hegek produced a holographic image of the Romulan military report on all holoimages in the chamber. The title of the report was,
At Our Own Peril:
RSN Risk Assessment
In a Post-Romulan World
The page changed to the text that Hegek read from, “Page 7, paragraph number one and I quote, ‘It is our estimation, that the Romulan Empire no longer enjoys and unchallenged position on the battlefield or in space combat versus other Alpha quadrant powers. And that we no longer can automatically generate consistent and sustained local military superiority at range. At home or abroad. We, the members of the Romulan Strategic Command therefore predict that the Empire will be forced to contract her borders by 2410 or earlier.”
There was a gasp and whispering. No one was supposed to have known about that report. Even a year out. Hegek was simply demonstrating his new…alliance…with the Tal Shiar. An arrangement that was supposed to have been a secret. A secret so severe that only Section 31 or – perhaps – Starfleet Intelligence knew about? The senators were agitated. The Imperial Guards took up positions to protect the Praetor. But everyone wanted to hear what he said next.
“Empires in decay embrace an almost willful suicide. Blinded by their hubris and unable to face the reality of their diminishing power they retreat into a fantasy world. Where hard and unpleasant facts no longer intrude. They replace diplomacy, multilateralism and politics with unilateral and bombastic threats using the blunt instrument of war. This…my brothers and sisters…this is our collective delusion. And remember that you…came to us…to do the things you did not want to do. But we are all guilty of the crimes. And you know of the crimes of which I speak.”
Here Hegek turned to the Praetor and said, “A feature of all empires in decline is micro-militarism. You came to us because you knew that the…extermination…of all the off-worlders, the Federation and all the different species but especially the Humans would come at a cost. And you knew that the Empire needed a victory, but you could not declare a war. A war with the Federation when we have not yet fully recovered even from the Dominion War? War…war? Has war become a force that gives us meaning? If it is…if it has…come to this…then these are the last days of the Romulan Empire.”
“But…even fading Empires need something other than brute force. They need…mystique. The mystique you wanted could only have come from us. We alone are the …unknowables. You sought us out as a sacrifice for the Empire. But, my Praetor, you made a terrible mistake. You see, the real danger to the Empire is…and always has been…from within.”
At this moment, an Imperial Guard turned and shot the Romulan Praetor dead. The guards then turned their weapons on the Senate. Some members were able to escape. Again, that was calculated for effect. The Tarpeans wanted everyone to know what was said and done here today. Hegek, putting his mask back on and turning to leave the Senate chamber. He walks out unopposed as the Romulan Senate is purged.
MEANWHILE – HIGH ABOVE THE PLANET KIRO – THE BATTLE RAGES
Sum quod eris
USS ATLAS – BRIDGE
“Fucking Tarpean assholes! I just got that damn thing fixed!” an engineer yelled in anger. The Intrepid class USS Atlas a dedicated combat interdiction vessel for Marines continued the fight. But she was being hammered. The Hale and the Atlas were up against two Romulan “B-Type” older warbirds. For over an hour now the Atlas had shown the Tarpeans and what was left of their fleet here above the planet Kiro that this was not going to be an easy win.
“REPORT!” the Captain yelled over the din and explosions.
From the OPS station came the reply, “Forward shields down to 20%...Aft shields are at 15%. We’re venting drive plasma. Hull breaches on decks, four, five, seven, nine….eleven and twelve. Main shuttlebay is on fire – we can’t launch or recover our birds. Life support is failing all over the ship!”
“Weapons?” was the XO’s question.
“Four photon torpedos…aft launcher only. Phaser emiiters are off line. A few shots left on the dorsal emitter…we’re on batteries!”
The Captain turned a pale shade and looked at the XO. “We did we came here to do. Protect the Hale and make sure our forces landed on Kiro. Launch the log buoy and notify Starfleet command. Abandon ship.”
The XO wasn’t giving up, “Captain! Where the hell is the cavalry? Where is the Bentham?!”
RAPIDLY CLOSING IN – THE CAVALRY IS COMING
The USS Bentham had been at warp seven for nearly eleven hours. Walking the decks of this Ambassador class heavy cruiser one got the feeling that they were preparing for battle. Or, trying to prevent one. The three-hundred and thirty members of her crew walked with purpose. Anything to keep themselves busy as they grew ever closer to their destination.
They were headed for the planet Kiro in a distant area of the sector that bordered the Rashaan star cluster. For the past day, they had been monitoring on long range sub-space Starfleet Intelligence calls. Finally, not wishing to embroil itself in another regional conflict between people that did not want or need Federation aid, the word came from Starfleet that they should, “investigate, support and defend”. And so, the ship changed course and made best speed towards Kiro. After hours of travel, the sub-space radio seemed weaker and weaker. It was barely readable, but the Bentham listened to the engagement by the two other Federation starships. The smaller, USS Hale and the larger, marine ship, USS Atlas. The Bentham was the largest and was also the only ship in the area. With the loss of the Rashaan outpost in this area the planet would be difficult to reach.
The captain, a woman of about forty-years of age, stepped off the turbolift and entered the bridge. A junior officer announced, “Captain on the bridge!” Captain Clarke acknowledged with, “Report”. And she was brought up to speed by the junior officer she relieved. He stood to his feet and said, “Heading 125 mark 080, speed is warp seven. We’ll be in range in moments Captain. It’s hard to make out what’s been happening. We think that most transmissions from the planet have been blocked by some kind of energy shield. Long-range sensor-“
Suddenly, with a violent jolt, the whole ship rocked and even the inertial dampeners were not much help. It was as if the Bentham had hit a brick wall. People were lifted off their feet and lurched forward at least a meter if they weren’t seated or standing next to something solid. The sound of breaking bones and smacking bodies was heard on every deck, every compartment. The port nacelle collapsed like a crushed aluminum can. Accordion-like it crushed in on itself and then exploded violently sending the Bentham into a deadly spin.
When the Captain picked herself off the deck and sat back into her command chair the bridge slowly came into focus. She found the strength to ask, “Damage report!”
Bridge panels exploded all over and the rest of the bridge crew were either dead or trying to find their station. A voice from the OPS station started listing off the damage. The captain listened and focused on these words, “…quantum filament. The warp core is destabilized. We’re venting drive plasma. I’ve got systems out all over the ship!”
=A= Warning! Damage to warp core. Magnetic constrictor systems failing. Thirty percent and falling! Warning! =A= the computer announced.
The captain called to the Engineering station, “Get those constrictors back online!”
The young man looked at her, “I can’t! The damage is too severe. We’ve lost the port nacelle and the plasma feeds are not responding. I can’t re-initialize the magnetic containment fields from here!”
“Go!”, she said, “get to Engineering and get the containment fields back online” and he ran for the turbolift. The Bentham shuddered again. From outside, she started listing to port badly. She had dropped out of warp and was in an uncontrolled spin. The ship and her crew were spinning towards the planet. Unfortunately, the gravity well of Kiro was pulling the crippled starship towards the planet.
As the crew of the Federation starship worked to gain control over their crippled starship other people noticed their arrival.
USS ATLAS – BRIDGE
“Captain?! A new ship is entering the area. It’s one of ours. It’s the Bentham!” the NAV officer said.
The captain and XO exchanged relieved looks, “Just in time? Captain Clarke owes us one. On screen!”
The main viewscreen of the Atlas was sputtering and damaged but it worked well enough. Well enough for both captain and the XO’s face to fall. The Ambassador-class ship was listing on her port side, like a lazy top, it was slowly spinning with a huge smoke trail spiraling behind her.
“Oh…..shit!” said the XO and exchanged a look with the captain. The captain said, “So much for the rescue. Abandon ship. We’ll link up on the surface of Kiro and continue the fight there. Plus, we might even meet up with survivors from the Bentham.
Over the loudspeaker, the computer announced those dreadful words with the bosun whistle, =A= Abandon ship! Evacuation. All hands to lifeboats =A=
***
The two Tarpean capital ships took their attacks off the Atlas and the Hale.
“Captain?” the Tarpean ensign’s voice called.
“What is it Ensign?” came the Captain’s reply.
“New target. Just entered the system. It looks like they foundered on a quantum strand. They look heavily damaged sir and are sending distress calls. What should I do?” he asked.
The Romulan captain came and stood by the young officer’s sensor screen. He looked surprised and astonished. He had worked for years alongside Starfleet captains and had grown to respect and admire them. “What are they doing here?” he asked in disbelief. “No one was supposed to know about this?! Hail them!”
“Federation ship, you are in Tarpean space. You must turn around and leave!” and so on the communication went.
Aboard the Bentham the captain called, “Why aren’t they answering our distress calls?”
“COMM systems have failed. I’m trying to reinitialize. Captain, if we hit a quantum filament then the whole ship has been polarized. We need to – “the COMM panel exploded and sent the crewman manning it to the floor with burns. A medic responded and began helping.
Clarke stood next to the HELM and tried to assist. “We have to regain attitude control and stop this spin.”
=A= Warning! Damage to warp core. Magnetic constrictor systems failing. Ten percent and falling! Warning! =A= the computer announced.
Clarke said to the helmsman, “Use the remaining thrusters and take manual control.”
“Aye Captain!” the helmsman replied.
Using the thrusters alone, the Bentham started to stop listing to port. It evened out but it was still being pulled towards the planet. As it grew closer and closer it picked up speed.
Meanwhile, aboard the Tarpean capital ships, “They are not responding to hails Captain. They’re obviously damaged. They need our help” the young Ensign said.
“We have our orders. I just hope that they can gain control of their ship before it…” his voice trailed off and he didn’t finish the thought. “How long until they are in range?”
“In range sir?” the young man asked puzzled.
“What an excellent prize this would make! I want to extend the shield grid. Move the ship into position between the planet and their current trajectory. We can align our shields and ship so that they will glance off our shield grid and maybe – just maybe we can nudge them into a low-orbit. Enough so that they don’t crash. Then, we would have a Federation starship to replace our losses here. Or we can bring the smoking hulk and display it in the capital. We’ll deal with the ramifications of this later.”
The Tarpean ship extended her shields and the energy they created gave the ship a bubble-like, egg shaped, shield geometry. But, alas, it was not to be. The Bentham was too badly damaged and the thrusters were no longer able to make any kind of course corrections. The Ambassador-class ship hit the Tarpean warbird. The impact sent shockwaves through both ships. Because the Federation ship was polarized with high energy particles, it sent ripples along the shield grid and the Tarpean ship’s shield emitters were overloaded.
In a flash of light, the shields collapsed on the Tarpean warbird. And the Bentham with her inertia sliced through the Tarpean dreadnought on her dorsal axis and cut right through her. The Tarpean ship exploded, and the Federation ship continued its death dive towards the surface.
That caught the attention of the other Tarpean warbird. That captain yelled, “Blow that ship out of the sky before it hits another!” Immediately, guns that were trained on the Hale and the Atlas came to bear on the Federation battle cruiser.
Back aboard the Bentham, the captain had lost contact with Engineering. They were taking fire now from the Tarpean fleet and they could no longer control their descent.
=A= Warning! Damage to warp core. Magnetic constrictor systems have failed. Warning! =A= the computer announced.
“Eject the core!” Clarke called.
From outside, the emergency ejection systems, thankfully, were still operational and they dumped the glowing warp core out into space. It sputtered and sparked, then exploded. Sending a shockwave that rapidly started to expand.
USS HALE – BRIDGE
Captain Hammond, having already sent the First and Second Platoon’s down to the shuttle bay called down to the marine in charge,
=A= Second Lieutenant Woolheater? We need to leave now. You get the hell down to the surface and you end this Tarpean bullshit. Your orders are to carry on with the plan and link up with Major Fisher’s marines. Expect to find heavy resistance on the surface of Kiro and survivors from the Atlas and from the Bentham. Now get outta here. We’re coming back for you. Just as soon as we figure out how to negate the effects of the artificial quantum filaments. Hammond out! =A=.
Second LT. Samuel Woolheater was busy loading the shuttles as he listened to the orders. He replied in the affirmative and he was one of the last marines to board in the insertion shuttles. They left the hangar bay of the Steamrunner-class USS Hale and the extent of the battle could be seen. There were many escape pods now heading to Kiro.
Good thing the Kirons had switched sides. At least Sam hoped that they had.
USS BENTHAM – BRIDGE
Captain Clarke, cut and bleeding, burned and with a broken arm now made the final call, “Abandon ship!”
Entering the upper atmosphere now, the Ambassador-class vessel left a smoking trail behind it. And one by one, escape pods holding her crew shot away from the hulking wreckage as it sped faster and faster towards the surface of Kiro.
The bridge had been cut off when the turbolift shaft had ruptured and was venting atmosphere. It took all their strength for the bridge crew to make it to the last bridge lifeboat. As they pulled away from their starship, they felt grateful to be alive. They were sure that now they were safe.
From the bridge of the Tarpean command ship the security crewman asked, “We’re ready to capture and receive the Federation lifeboats.”
The captain looked coldly at him and then out the window, “No. There can be no witnesses. The Federation should never have been alerted to our presence here. You are to destroy all the lifeboats.”
The man’s face was blank for a moment, he clearly could not understand what he was hearing. Which was odd considering the mass murder that was going on all around them. “Sir?”
“Those are your orders. Destroy everything. All of them. Let none escape you. Remember your duty.”
***
Volo non fugia
~…oh god…oh god…oh god…hear my prayer…in your mercy…save me oh god! ~, the thin and fragile voice said from inside the damaged lifeboat. Inside, the lights flickered on an off as they sparked and sent smoke into the air. The navigation and emergency panels presented only a jumble of images and incoherent data. Smoke…and fear filled the air. Faces, smeared with blood and tears, singed with terror each wore the expectant face of death.
Pursuing one of the few remaining USS Bentham lifeboats was a Tarpean single-man fighter; an Achillobator. Looking like a horned devil, black was its metal frame, two red-tipped phaser cannons glowing hot with hate; the fighter closed in on the helpless lifeboat.
The lifeboat spun slowly. Like a wounded bird falling from the sky. A black smoke trail as it vented some burning system. They had entered the upper atmosphere of Kiro and the heat from the atmosphere was most difficult for the pursuing fighter. High above them, other lifeboats were being…eliminated.
~…my son…grow up to be a good man…be better than I was…oh god…this one thing I ask of you. Take care of my family! ~ another voice belonged to a young man. Separated from his wife and child when the Bentham hit the artificial quantum filament. The young engineer opened his eyes from his silent prayer. He looked across from him to Ensign Hopper. She stared at the floor and then, looked up into his face. A single tear fell from her brown eyes. The lifeboat took another phaser hit and was buffeted which caused several persons to scream out. Moving to her side, Ensign Schantz put his arm around her. She grasped his hand and let out a mournful, desperate cry. “Why?!”
As the Tarpean pilot closed the distance and matched the spin rate, his finger hovered over the FIRE button. Closer and closer he got. The phaser cannons grew hot as their lethal discharge awaited unleashing. The side of the Achillobator class fighter, sleek and modern in its design, emblazoned with devilish delight finally was in sync. The weapons lock signal alarm sounded. The pilot grinned, “Got you!”
Then, by some divine and infinite mercy, the dedication plaque from the destroyed Federation ship, badly damaged and separated from the bridge wall mountings but clearly from the bridge of the Bentham, spins at an incredible rate. On it the words,
USS BENTHAM
Ambassador Class – Starfleet Registry NCC-39201
40 Eridani A Starfleet Construction Yards
Constructed by - Universal Spacecraft Systems
Commmissioned Stardate 50250.5
United Federation of Planets
Starfleet Command, Sol sector
“Come, dream with me, of worlds and peoples yet unknown!” – Sir John Bentham – Astronomer
It spins like a serrated saw blade and with tremendous force hits the engines of the Tarpean starfighter. Sending the attack craft off course and in a flash of light – it explodes into a thousand pieces! The lifeboat continues its mad descent towards the embattled surface of Kiro. And, for the moment, call it Providence, Divine Favor or even just dumb-ass luck, this lifeboat has made it to the surface.
Dozens of lifeboats from the Federation task force – what was left of it - streak across the sky. One is coming in for a landing. Two of the four emergency landing thrusters fire which slow the suicidal descent to just a murderous one. The lifeboat flies for miles and miles and a very level angle now, the heat inside is unbearable, it is like roasting in an oven. Until, finally, mercifully, the lifeboat lands in a muddy and grassy bog. It crashed into the soft mud, the layers of thick grass and the cooling waters and after sliding for a quarter mile, slowly stops and then tips to the side before finally coming to a rest.
A dozen birds and strange, terrible beasts run away from the craft. All is quiet. Then the hatch explodes and pops off sending the cover high into the air as the emergency explosive bolts blow the hatch off. Smoke rises from the cabin. Then, a hand reaches out of the lifeboat hatch and then the first person emerges. Then another, another and another. Ensigns Schantz and Hopper are among the Bentham survivors. There is not a moment to lose, and they gather what they can.
Seven have survived. Meanwhile, high above the Atlas and the Bentham crash to the surface. Like it or not, the Federation crews are here to stay on Kiro. Off in the distance, just barely visible on the horizon several vessels are approaching.
The lifeboat survivors, all seven of them, break out their hand phasers and scatter for cover. They recognize the approaching land vehicles as Kiron transports. They prep for a fight.
The transports arrive at the lifeboat that was from the Bentham. A dozen or so Kiro soldiers get out and start climbing onto the lifeboat searching for survivors. The Kirons appearance is that more akin to a Vulcan than to a Romulan. One must remember that Kiro was mostly forgotten as even being in the Empire. This made the Kiron’s free to associate, somewhat, with other species. As a result, Kirons came in many different shapes and sizes with only the pointed ears remaining, generally.
Ensigns Schantz and Hopper hid in the boggy grass, not far from the crash site. They watched as the Kiron’s searched for survivors and then the soldiers starting walking towards them. The two Ensigns took aim with their hand phasers, ready to stun the Kiron soldiers when they heard grass moving behind them and then a TR-116 rifle powering up. Ensign Schantz looked to his right. Into the barrel of the sniper’s rifle. Sam then lowered the weapon and said, “Don’t shoot our friends please. We need them. Woolheater. First platoon attachment to USS Hale. Let me guess…you’re the rescue?”
Ensigns Schantz and Hopper breathed a sigh of relief. They all stood up. Sam had face paint on. It was dark green and brown. His blue eyes and their whites were the only physical features other than his teeth that stood out, and he was dressed in surface camo. Three other marines were with him that the others didn’t even know were there. “How long were you there anyway?” asked Hopper. Sam answered, “Not long. You were distracted. It was easy.”
After salvaging a few parts, they made a quick getaway with the Kiro soldiers. One of the transports had a cargo area in the back, a cargo hold, sort of. Boarding the back of the land transport, Sam filled them in as they rode along the uneven terrain and bounced along on not great repulse lifters.
Sam said as he checked his rifle, “Three months ago, Kiro broke off from the Tarpeans. A bunch of zealot’s hell bent of ‘cleansing’ Romulus and the empire of alien, aka 'humans' influence. They don’t take prisoners. Well, they do, but they don’t last long. Kind of a death cult? Totally fucked up. Anyway, these guys saw that they were on the losing end of that stick and decided to change sides. Perhaps not the most endearing quality to leave your ally? But, its better than ending up at Invoxum.”
Hopper listened and asked, “What’s Invoxum?”
San said, “Tarpeans want a pure, Romulan/Tarpean culture. They are murdering people, doesn’t matter your species, in these….death camps. Invoxum is or was here on Kiro. Starfleet Intel finally got enough proof to force the Federation Council to put their asses in gear and do something about it. Officially, Romulans say the Tarpeans are a sect. The Kiron’s are also a sect of Romulus. But never mind all of that. We’re here to put an end to this. For the past three months, Starfleet Intel has been providing weapons, intel and training to the Kirons. They are also helping to get as many people out of Romulan space as they can. The Bentham was here to provide more firepower and a larger evac capacity for the population. Plus, all of those clean medical beds for the injured. Our orders, before we ran into the artificial quantum filament blockade was to soften up their defenses and then go in and take out the command structure.”
Sam drew with his finger on the dusty sidewall of the cargo transport. Tarpeans know that their cause is lost. We’re closing in on three sides on this city. The capitol of Kiro, a place called Wunnhall. The city belongs to the Kirons. But the Tarpeans have been fighting them street by street for every inch for three months. Kirons are here. In the north and here south of the city. West is already captured. That’s where our HQ is and Major Fisher. We’re heading east. That’s where the fighting is. Tarpeans are set in a war of annihilation. Kiron’s have reports of children being shot in front of their parents. Then the parents being shot. These are some sick, twisted, fuckers. They’re burning everything to the ground. The worst part is that Romulans, from the regular Romulan military are mixed in with the Tarpeans. So, while they might see that its clear they are losing? Tarpeans shoot any deserters. Yeah. What a lovely people.” The transport came to a stop to pickup more survivors from the Federation task force.
As more survivors were picked up in the field from other lifeboats, the marines and the Kirons gave them medical treatment as they were able. Hopper provided some emergency medical help as she was also trained in emergency medicine. When the vehicle was underway again, Sam pointed to the Kiron’s in the group. These guys all made it out from behind the front lines. Over to us and surrendered. They’re fighting to regain their home.”
Ensign Schantz who had been listening all this time said, “We’re not fighters. I’m an engineer. Hopper is medical. We don’t have fighting experience.”
Sam just grinned back and looked at a few marines, “You are fighters. You’re fighters now. You passed Starfleet’s basic training. I saw you with a hand phaser. Maybe you’ll fight or maybe you’ll be in support. Whatever. You’re here now and, not to put too fine a point on it – but with no ship – you’re in the same boat with the rest of us. Consider it…motivation?”
Hopper and Schantz both looked at each other. They really didn’t like marines.
HOURS LATER – ARRIVAL EAST OF THE CAPITOL AT WUNNHALL
Sam looked out at the devastation. Hopper and Schantz also looked out onto the ruined city. Ensign Schantz asked, “We did this? The Federation?”
Sam shook his head, “Negative. The Hale had orders to bombard from orbit the weapons and ship depot. About…I dunno…fifty? Sixty clicks from here. Tarpeans, these fuck heads did this.”
The view for miles in every direction was one of devastation. There was not one structure that had not been blasted or firebombed. The Tarpeans were exacting a terrible revenge on the Kiron’s. The transport stopped outside a field HQ. Everyone got off the transports and they followed the marines and Starfleet security to be counted and identified. It was here that Sam Woolheater said his goodbyes to both Ensign Schantz and Ensign Hopper. In a short while, they would be reunited with the remaining crew and Captain Clarke from the Bentham.
SFMC TACTICAL HQ – WUNNHALL
Major Hunter Trapper Fisher greeted marines from the Hale, “Nice of you to join us. We’ve been looking for you. How many made it to the surface?”
Sam answered, “My squad made it. There the eight of us. And we linked up with these Kiron fighters. I wouldn’t say they were exactly happy to see us neither.”
“Doesn’t matter. Starfleet and the SFMC are going to notice two ships gone missing. Did your skipper make it out?”
Sam nodded, “I think so Major. Captain Hammond has been in tight spots before. Our ship might be small but she’s tough.”
“Let’s hope so. Until we get reinforcements from Starfleet the situation here is…jittery. We get deserters everyday here. They tell us that things are bad and getting worse on the other side of the line. Come on, let’s debrief. Can I get you something? Any wounded?”
Sam followed the Major into the field command, “No sir, no injured. Water would be great. The Kiron’s seem to be lacking in basic hospitality.” Fisher handed Sam a bottle of water and Sam gulped it down. “Don’t be too critical of them. They were duped as well. The people that made this place a shithole are back on Romulus or dead. If they lucky – they dead. If you’re good to go I need you on overwatch. I need you to do it solo. Until we find your CO I’m your commanding officer. And I need you to do this. Here’s the plan.”
WUNNHALL – SNIPERNEST OVERWATCH
Urban combat sucked. It was long, tedious, door-to-door bullshit. And it was dangerous and deadly if you didn’t pay attention. Sam found a spot that overlooked the government main drag. The mission was simple. Drive the Tarpeans out of their murder holes and out of the government center. Sam was setup four hours before marines from the Atlas and the Hale were due to canvas this section. It had been dead quiet too. During that time, Woolheater had been keeping an eye trained on the area below and up to one-half mile. He kept his tech off. As much as he wanted to use the tactical tricorder, or the sensors, all of it could compromise his position but also it would create a bead on him from the power signatures. He did not have his life-signs suppression gear either so he could be scanned. Sam knew how to disguise his life signs; but it wasn’t the same. If the Tarpeans still were on the hunt, they would know that something was alive in this shattered multi-story building. Of course, there might be a lot of things alive in this building. The only tech that Woolheater had was his communications gear. The throat mic that Sam wore was good and the earpiece was light. Sam didn’t mind them.
=A= K-Team six-four-nine checking in on overwatch =A=
Without missing a beat, Sam replied, =A= Welcome to beautiful downtown Wunnhall. Home of drones and stones. You are green to go. It’s been quiet here. =A=
=A= Thank you overwatch. I’m keeping my ears on and we are proceeding… =A=
From their hiding spot, the three girls, their mother and their grandmother could see the approaching mixed platoon of Kiron soldiers and Starfleet marines. They panicked. Their mother roused herself from her trance-like wakefulness and she gathered her three little girls together. Their mother followed by their grandmother carefully and quietly tried to make a run for it to the river the was just west of them.
Woolheater spotted them, =A= Lieutenant? I have movement…at bearing 130 about 300 meters in front of you. I have….three….correction….five targets. Appear to be female. I don’t see any weapons and they are attempting to evade. =A=
Sam kept his eyes on the buildings and the spots that he would have chosen. He didn’t see anything. Four marines and one Kiron soldier were dispatched to round up the fleeing persons. Sam watched the whole thing.
The three little girls ran with their mother to the river’s edge. Their mother, looking disheveled and panicked was binding the girls together with a long cord of some sort. They then went into the river which was filled with debris and dead bodies floating downstream. Their grandmother went in after them and was pleading with them. Sam could see them shaking with fear and crying. The grandmother picked up the youngest and carried her. They slowly came back out of the water where the marines and the Kiron soldier got them out of the water and unbound the children. Sam was there for another four hours as the buildings were searched and cleared.
Later, as he came back to the command HQ he heard the Kiron soldier debriefing Major Fisher. Sam sa down and hungrily ate something that tasted like food to his empty stomach. He guzzled more water. He sat across from the Major and behind so he could see and hear everything that was being said. And it enraged him. The Kiron soldier gave the report. He said through the universal translator, “The mother was attempting to drown her own children. The three girls. The Tarpeans, when they came through…they did what they wanted to the women of the neighborhood. This section had civilian residences; some embassy staff were here. These people are from Terra Nova. They tried to disguise themselves. But, if you have a good figure, that’s hard to disguise. Their mother was raped repeatedly. The Tarpeans found her again and again. She did this – she didn’t have a choice – to protect her children, her daughters from…you can’t imagine. They did this to her ten…twenty times a day.”
Sam wanted to shoot the Kiron right there. But he wasn’t the perpetrator. The Tarpeans were. The Kiron soldier broke down and said, “You can’t imagine what she has been through. She’s hardly…human…anymore.”
Major Fisher said, “Never mind how you feel. If we’re going to put a stop to this we need to stay focused on these pricks. What else did she say? Why was she going to drown her kids?”
The Kiron soldier continued, “We’ve been pulling out many bodies from the river. So far…six hundred. Women, children, elderly people. I saw them, yesterday. The day before. Running towards the water. Most of them are suicides. Rather than subject themselves to living under Tarpean rule..they did that. He mother thought that when we were coming…and they saw me…that the Federation was no better than the Tarpeans. Most of the marines were male. I suppose had there been some females there…maybe they would have come out to talk. I don’t think so though. They were terrified of anyone in a uniform. Starfleet or not.”
Major Fisher nodded, “And the grandmother? What’s her involvement?”
“She came after them, rescued them. Told them you were Starfleet. The Federation. That the occupation, the Tarpean nightmare was over.”
The major looked at him and then said to the Kiron soldier, “We are going to put an end to this soon. Thank you for the report. Get something to eat, report back to your CO. Dismissed.”
Sam felt sick. Sick of this whole ordeal.
Three days later, on stardate 73835.5 at 1600 hours it was over. The last of the Tarpean cultic leaders had been killed the day before. And now, the military commander, under a flag of truce, sued for terms of surrender.
Major Fisher had only one. Unconditional.
Two days after that, what was left of the Romulan military under the Tarpeans surrendered. The operation to free Kiro was over.
EPILOGUE
Starfleet Intelligence, to the many agents and operatives who gave their lives to bear witness against the Tarpeans. To the crew of the USS Bentham many of whom survived and have gone on to help rebuild both Kiro and Romulus. To the crew of the USS Atlas and those of the USS Hale whose Starfleet and Marine crews worked together to do what was necessary in service to others.
To those fallen crew and marines, who laid down their lives to defend and protect the United Federation of Planets. We salute you.
It was a renegade, unknown heretic, Inceptiux Tarpeus and a radical group of racists who had brought this suffering to the planet Kiro and to Romulus. The Tarpeans had been destroyed, but at a terrible cost. There were many reasons that the Tarpeans and their Romulan and Kiron allies fought to the end. Crucially, it was an inability to rid themselves of fear, misinformation, prejudice, racism and hate. It was a failure to listen.
The “Unknowable Prophet” Tarpeus had promised that his followers, if they made Romulus pure again, would have a great and strong Tarpean society behind them. Instead, he left behind a very different legacy of death and suffering. And a new knowledge of what people are capable of.
Places like the Rashaan Outpost, the death camp at Invoxum and the rape and plunder of Kiro itself at Wunnhall.
”That which has happened is a warning. To forget it is guilt. It was possible for this to happen, and it remains possible for it to happen again at any minute.” -Karl Jaspers
[OFF:]
Captain Samuel Woolheater
“Saepius Exertus, Semper Fidelis, Frater Infinitas”
Division VI, MARDET 62nd Company "Spartans", 1st Platoon CO
=/\= USS ELYSIUM - NCC-89000 =/\=
