Fan Fiction/Labor Day 2010/Comms Last Stand
GAME MANAGERS NOTE
The following is a short fiction based on the "security camera" footage from the Havaris Colony Comm station.
Written by Gen. Christina Doane.
Lorit Fala sighed as she drank her coffee. “Coffee” She muttered thankfully, enjoying the caffeine. It was something one of her crew made every shift. Victor loved the stuff and he also loved that Jora Tain hated it, her Cardassian taste buds just couldn't seem to wrap themselves around it. Fala, as a Bajoran her first name was last, tolerated it. It did the job, personally she was surprised they could get the beans to grow here. Though she figured she shouldn't be, they may be refugees from all sorts of places trying to make a fresh start but that didn't mean they didn't have skills.
Major Lorit Fala, Shift Supervisor at the Comm Center was a survivor of the Occupation of Bajor, multiple coup attempts with an unstable provisional government, and then a war with the Dominion. By the Prophets she was tired. She'd seen too much, done too much. That’s why she was here with her family, now she was tired and was looking for peace. She'd been a combat engineer (which meant, she blew stuff up) now all she wanted was to deal with the boring routine that came from working in the comm hub. She continued to sip at the human drink as she walked through the Havaris Militia Central Communications Center. A grand name for the small building that acted as the central hub for their all purpose militia. All purpose because the small military force was the military, the National Guard, and the police all in one. And pretty much whatever else they needed it for, fire service, emergency medical personnel. Victor joked once that it was like a Swiss army knife, the only other human on his shift getting the joke as the aliens looked at him in confusion.
A somewhat simplified version of the Bajoran set up, the Militia met their needs though. The leaders of Havaris, elected by the people that made up their little colony, were trying to make a fresh start from everyone. An independent entity, the Havaris Confederacy, as they called themselves were doing all they could. Unfortunately they had to be careful, they were still a small fish in a large pond and they knew it. So they were building slowly and carefully. Fortunately some of their members had contacts in the black market so they were able to get some of what they couldn't make for themselves without attracting too much attention.
Finally though, one of their big concerns, their military, was actually taking on shape. Ok so their weapons were everything from Federation Phasers to Klingon Disruptors but at least everyone was armed now. It was getting kind of silly practicing with wooden weapons and so their grey uniforms weren't quite uniform at least they could "ID" a member of the militia now, before everyone wore civvies and it confused people to no end.
Major Lorit Fala, rubbed the scar that went down one side of her face absent mindedly as she nodded to a passing guard, a gift from a Cardie during the occupation right before she killed him with his own dagger, . She entered the main communications room and nodded to Jora Tain before sitting down at her console to review reports. She took a moment to smile at the family photo there, it held all of her family on Havaris, her children (now grown) and even a few young grandchildren. The youngest grandchild, a 2 year old girl was being held on Grandma Fala's lap. They had a good life here she thought as she turned her attention to her work. For a long time it struck her as odd and difficult every time she had to work with a Cardie. It had taken her sometime to let go enough of her hatred of Cardassians to tolerate them here on Havaris but eventually she realized it was the leaders she hated most. Now she didn't even think that having one as her deputy was in the least bit odd.
She considered the officers that were staffing this shift in the communications room, feeling in a reflective mood as she reviewed the routine. They all had come here for their own reasons, escaping a past or looking for a new future. One didn't tend to ask detailed questions about someone’s past in Havaris, a bit like the old Earth French Foreign Legion, it was more about who you were now and what you did in the present rather than what you once were. Victor was a complete mystery, Jora simply wanted to escape the constant roller coaster of the fortunes of her government, others had their own stories. Fala thought of those who she had known who had their own stories cut short because of the greed of one people for what another people had. Oh they always had reasons for wanting what wasn't theirs but it didn't make it right. It took 50 years to rid of the Cardassians from Bajor and some joked, grimly, that the only reason they left was because there wasn't anything else to take.
Captain Tain herself was the Deputy Shift Supervisor and he was fairly mild for a Cardie, she seemed to take things as they came with a pragmatism that almost bordered on bored detachment. Though that didn't stop her from needling 1Lt. Victor Romanov every chance she got, though that didn't seem to bother the Earther who never took anything seriously. He even tolerated being called Vicky, though it took guts for a 5 foot 5 Cardie to call a 6 foot 4 Earther a demeaning name. For some reason though they got along fine, were the best of friends as a matter of fact. Lorit didn't understand it but she supposed she didn't need too.
The last two members were Sgt. Elizabeth Parker, a tall human who'd actually never been on Earth, and Lorits own youngest son, just turned 20 Private Lorit Gale. The whole shift got along pretty well, their military deportment may have been lacking but she liked to think they could hold their own when it counted. As Fala was fond of saying, “Its not the packaging its what’s inside that counts...”
So yeah they were a little battered, a little mish-mash but they were a good bunch. Fala was the oldest of them all by a lot and saw them as children though she wouldn't tell them that. Just now Victor was walking in grinning as Jora glared.
“You wouldn't happen to know who drugged me and cement glued spoons on the walls of my quarters would you Vicky” Asked Jora.
Victor shrugged, “No idea maybe it was a little fairy who saw a spoon headed Cardie handcuff a drunk and helpless officer to a goat pen.”
“Did you really?” Lizzie piped in stifling a smile, she wasn't mean spirited but did have an irrepressible sense of fun. Jora didn't answer at first, just as she was about to, “How’s Bryan?”
asked Gale, a peacemaker if ever there was one, to change the topic. Gale was training to be a Doctor, his mission in life as he saw it was to heal. He loved to help people and was only here because the Militia had no medical openings. His training was a bit hap hazard, but at least it was complete. Picking, as he was the brains of medical personnel from multiple worlds. Lizzie beamed, her blue eyes shining as she pushed back a loose brown hair. Bryan was her month old son. “He's perfect and already knows me I swear it...” And she was off beaming and going on in that way happy new mothers have. Jora and Victor glared at each other and were all set to continue their discussion when Major Lorit finished her work and came over to the bank of monitors and keyboards.
“Come on we do have some work to do...” A good 'mom style' glare later and they all settled into their positions. This small room in the basement of the command bunker, called the Dispatch Center, was the brains of the militia Comms system for the entire planet. Well ok so it was for one large city with villages scattered about but hey it worked. Each officer being responsible for a particular area like fire service/emergency services etc. As the graveyard shift, overnight, shift began it was all routine.
Status reports from the various small militia commands flowed in, a couple of requests for medical personnel nothing major. The Dispatch Center handled the traffic with ease of long practice, even Gale who practically grew up in here. The traffic was it's usual steady but slow self, which suited them just fine.
“This is Militia Space Command, all quiet at shift change.”
“This is Militia Police Field Patrol 43 responding to a domestic...”
“This is Sanctuary Medical Post 2, reporting 12 births...” and so it went reports were logged and communications dealt with smoothly.
Major Lorit was at a station coordinating a night training excercise when Captain Tain called her over, “Major Militia Space Command is reporting unusual readings...”
Militia Space Command was a battered, old civilian ship construction station modified to suit their needs. In essence it was the hub of their space going ability, what few ships they had kept close because it wasn't well armored or armed. It was why they used ground ranks for everything, since they barely had a naval presence. The few ships they had were old, smaller combat vessels but you'd think it was the finest fleet in the universe from the way those in MSC acted.
Major Lorit came over, “Put in on speaker...” She said and removing her Tachnet headset she tapped a key on the composite computer system.
“This is Colonel Laern we have detected unusual readings but we can't get a fix I have sent ships to investigate. I...”
The line remained open there was muttered conversation, though it was obvious he was no longer talking to them. They finally heard clearly as the Colonel yelled, “Red Alert, launch Everything!” The voice was slightly panicked.
“Central Comms Warn...” and the line disappeared into static. Sgt. Parker looked shocked, “MSC off sensors.” She said, “No ships responding...” she added after tapping a few more keys.
Major Lorit reacted instantly, years of training taking over and slapped a big, red button on the wall. A Klaxon went off as blast doors sealed the vault like room they were in. They couldn't afford energy shields but a little extra armor, that they could do. Reports started to flood in, in various stages of adrenaline rushed panic, interlaced with a few voices of command. Usually with yelling or phaser fire in the background, even the occasional explosion.
“Under attack, unknown...”
“Central Militia Police Post in Sanctuary (Central City). We are under assault I repeat under assault. So fast, dressed in some kind of black armor.. People are dropping like flies. I'm in a closet but they'll find me soon...I'm just a clerk Damnit! Tell my family...”
“Number of persons unknown...”
“This is Major K'tak, any Militia in area of Militia Post 12 report to coordinates...” And so it went, reports became few though even as the comm room struggled to coordinate, something was inhibiting transmissions they noticed as more and more of their com network went down.
Insanity was rampant as the Militia struggled to keep from drowning in the speed of the attack. Major Lorit quickly saw a pattern. All their main command centers were being hit, it was only a matter of time before this unknown enemy came for them. She glanced at a closed, metal door set off to the side. Then hit the intercom button, “This is Major Lorit. All defenders to your positions, orders are to hold. I repeat. Hold, it's the only hope our families have. Prophets go with you.”
A group of Militia in a break room looked at each other nervously, until a Sgt. Started barking orders then they moved swiftly, training taking over.
“Jora...” She looked up at Lorit, “Take my son and...” She wanted desperately to say take him away to safety but she knew she couldn't.
Someone came on the intercom, “The enemy has been sighted on route to the base, all defenders remain at your posts.”
“Jora take my son and go to the long range communications device.” It was the most expensive thing in this section. The other systems were for short range only and cobbled together. The Long range wasn't even in use most of the time, kept only for the most serious of situations. Lorit felt this counted. She was also hoping the fact it hadn't be on would mean it might get through the black out that seemed to have taken the rest of their exterior communications. They now had no new incoming information.
“You're better at operating that thing. No one knows it like you.” She replied calmly. Lorit looked around her room; her son looked terrified but determined. The others simply looked pale but were holding it together. Victor was whistling, “Another one bites the dust.” an old Earth song as he checked their only phaser rifle.
Another voice came over the intercom; phaser fire in the background, the woman had that urgent tone that was becoming all too common. “They've entered the base! Repeat they've entered...” A phaser shot very close to the intercom then static.
She could have said many things in this moment, how much she respected them, how amazing they were, how much their sacrifice would mean to their colony. She said none of those things, instead she looked at them all for one more long second. “Take them with you...” Was all she said.
Jora nodded, “You know it.” Sgt. Parker handed Gale a small chip. It was a tradition Lorit had started, because she never could quite shake the paranoia of her old Bajoran Resistance Cell days. It was a recording of each of them at the end of their last shift. A sort of last good by to their families should anything happen to them. They updated it once a week, it seemed morbid at first but fast became a comforting ritual. Gale took it trying to protest but it was shoved into his hand. Lorit had already entered a code into the door and booted up the Federation made system. The others had started to move the now useless consoles to the armored door and anything else that would fit. They could just make out the distant sounds of battle as their comrades made the enemy pay for every inch.
Gale paused at the entrance to the little room and looked back at Parker; she was all her son had. Her husband having been killed the year before but there she was, aiming a battered Bajoran Phaser at the door. Something in the young man clicked, he felt strangely calm as he pulled the Federation phaser he had and checked the settings. Before anyone could react he put the chip back in her pocket and handed her the medkit. She looked at him confused but not threatened, this was Gale. She'd seen him grow up, knew him to be a gentle soul. “Triaphaic.” was all he said before stunning her. His mother was intent on trying to break through the jamming while the other two were still struggling with a heavy console and it took them all a moment to register what he had done.
By the time anyone could react he'd shoved Parker into the spare chair in the little room, “Gale no..”
His mother said, tears in her voice. “I love you mom.” Were his last words, as he beat her to the deadseal. A deadseal locked the door to the inner room. It would be complicated to remove and he was counting that his mother wouldn't be able to take the time even for him.
He turned back to Victor and Jora who by now were lowering their weapons they had pointed at him. They didn't speak a word, simply nodded to him. Victor put a hand on his shoulder and nodded once, solider to solider, as Phaser fire thudded into the armored door. Again in silence they turned to the barricade and tried to prepare themselves to make this entry cost dearly.
Fala wasn't idle, tears stung her eyes as love and sadness ate her. When she realized what he'd done, her heart had broken. She wasn't going to be able to save him anyway but somehow she hoped to keep him alive just a few more minutes. She raised him too well it seemed as pride mingled with the tears. She quickly revived Sgt. Parker using the items in the medkit.
Fala returned to the comm unit, part of her mind still on her son so she forced it back to the duty at hand. She would need all her tricks to get this message in a bottle, she could only pray that someone was out there because they were being overrun and this was their last hope. Her son would not die for nothing, none of them would. She would make this count. That was her vow.
She quickly pressed a slightly groggy Sgt. Parker into service as the pair of them worked to defeat the jamming, “I think we can get a partial signal out Fala...”
“Focus on getting all records backed up on the offsite storage, it's a different set up so it should get through.” . Off site storage was their emergency informational backup, its location was a closely guarded secret, and after all if anything went truly wrong it would be the only record they were even there. Like the old ruins that dotted the landscape in some areas, they too wanted to leave something behind if there'd be a need.
“Thank God for mish-mash tech.” Sgt. Parker muttered, determined to make the most of the time Gale was buying them. For the first time they were both truly thankful that none of their tech was quite standardized because that meant it wasn't quite possible to block everything with one set of devices and the offsite storage was such an old style system, Lorit didn't think anyone even remembered how they would access such a thing.
For her part, Major Lorit focused on trying to get the message out, their cry in the dark. Trying to ignore the explosion that seemed entirely too close. “Whatever happens.” She said grimly, “This message gets out.”
Parker nodded just as grimly, for the first time a thought occurring to her as she sent the files to the offsite storage. The unit said (upload 45% complete.).
“What’s Triaphaic?, Gale mentioned it.”
Fala paused, for a moment distracted from getting the channel open. It took her a moment to remember. It was something Bajoran scientists invented. It was meant to fake death, during the Occupation of Bajor. A use of it was so the Cardies would toss the bodies that could be rescued later from the work camps of persons valuable to the cause or those they thought they could get to without too much suspicion. “We need a voice...” She said as she pulled the Triaphaic from the medkit, it was one large dose. Gale was always bringing in new drugs he felt just had to be a part of their medkit, he thought it was a great idea when his mother told him of it from her time in the resistance. Triaphaic also slowed blood flow and could help stabilize injuries in small doses. A large dose would mimic a deathlike state. She couldn't explain what it did, Sgt. Parker would refuse it. “I'm sorry my family has treated you harshly.” Then she stuck the Sgt. With the hypo. Pained betrayal in the other woman’s gaze faded as she slipped from the chair. Fala quickly pulled her behind the console and tossed debris over her. She only hoped the drug would do its job and protect the younger woman. Her son was giving his life for her; the least his mother could do was make sure Bryan had his mother.
Finally a small chime piped up on Fala's computer just the phaser fire that had been going on in the outer room slowed and finally stopped. Heart in her throat, she sent the message on the open com, praying to the Prophets someone friendly was out there to hear. Finally, mission done, she programmed the system to wipe its memory after the upload completed. Even as the sounds of battle from outside the room lessened and then died.
Then she taught the invaders one short and very valuable lesson. They were professionals but when they finally got the inner door open, a wild eyed, old, Bajoran woman running screaming at them froze them in surprise for one precious second. In a flash she saw her son dead on the floor, his glassy eyes staring up at nothing. Jora lay nearby Gale, one of the intruders dead at her feet, a dagger in his neck. There were a few other dead as well. Victor was charred, having at the last moment set the phaser rifle to overload taking a few with him as he got caught in the blast. And in that flash she saw too the survivors and rage filled her vision. If one were to stop they could just see the blackened dog tags now visible, the first part was unreadable but was visible on multiple lines, “Victor- Marines- 45677”. That second they had paused was just long enough for her to clear the inner room into the outer room. She hugged the ranking officer and just as they fired at her, the two frag grenades she'd shoved into her pockets went off. The sound deafening in the small room. No one was alive to notice the second squad carefully enter the space and in the chaos that followed no one thought anything of the partial boot poking out from behind the rubble of the long range comm unit. No one heard the small chime from the cracked, darkened screen as the upload reached 100% then wiped itself.
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