"Listen, Tarik, I know you want to go on that raid, but the order came down from Starfleet Command for you to stay back. And they're right--as the senior infantry officer in the sector you're too valuable an asset at this point," Wallace told a very disgruntled Tarik.
"Had I known this promotion would take me out of the field I might have reconsidered it," Tarik growled.
"You're not the first one to feel that way. But you have to admit that Anderson needs more experience under his belt, and you're the only one we have right now who'd be able to pull off a relief expedition in case things get ugly. Just make sure they don't get ugly," Wallace replied.
"You can count on that!" Tarik said, somewhat assuaged. But that still doesn't mean I have to like it! he thought as Wallace left.
Boyle looked over at Tarik. "Consider yourself lucky, Colonel. You, you still at least get to do the mop-up. If I get another promotion I'm flying a desk!"
"Well, let's at least one of us get out there and kick some butts!"
The two worked diligently around a holo map projector, plotting likely trajectories for the Hawkes and their fighter support to attack the Ketracel White facility. Having found an intact Mullaran sensor damper in the ruins at Morristown, Tarik and Garek had managed to adapt the sensors on the
Hammerhead fighters and the tricorders to be carried by the landing force to read through the damper signals.
"We can send the Hawkes through this canyon to the east of the facility," Tarik said, plotting out a course. "This will keep them well below the base's sensor web. Any small arms likely to be operating out of that canyon won't be a match for the Hawkes."
"Now that we know the capabilities of the Mullaran fighters that have been supplied to the Jem'Hadar, we should be able to counter them effectively. The Hammerheads can lead any fighter support away from the base, while the transports disgorge the landing parties. If we can get within range, we should be able to blast that planetary defense cannon off the map before they even know what hit them!"
The two men worked out the details of the plan, then transmitted the file to Wallace and Anderson. "Good luck, Major," Tarik said.
"Luck has nothing to do with it!" he smiled.
Kassia completed another fulfilling day as station's counselor. She was kept fairly busy with her new job and title. As far as the Arizona-A's departure, she wasn't sure she was happy or sad that she wasn't aboard. It was still a bit of a trigger for her PTSD and their mission . . . she had no real reason to be a part of it . . . Except for Commander Mallory . . . But Kitty would do fine without Kassia's assistance for this mission. She was in her element and her mind would be occupied by her job. Kassia was not required there at all. Even Dr. Varl didn't need her, and with her current patient load, it was probably a good thing. She also still had to reserve time for more studies and she was determined to do and learn everything she could to be one of the best officers around. Already she knew a little about everything, but she wanted to make that grow.
So caught up in her own thoughts was she that she didn't notice Lt. Kelly in the back of the turbolift as she entered. There were a few other people heading to different destinations from the command deck down to crew quarters. She wanted the commerce section. She was going to check in on her store before heading off to see Tarik, since they had arranged to meet. As the turbolift stopped again at the last deck for crew quarters, a couple more people entered. She stepped back to allow more room and accidentally step into Kelly. Suddenly images bombarded her and her breath became shallow. It had been him that had framed Paul! It had been him all along! Her green eyes widened and her body tensed. She was glad he was behind her. But it wasn't enough that he couldn't see her face. She could sense his thoughts.
"Is there a problem?" he asked quietly so as not to attract attention. He had noticed the change in her stance. He had also heard of her telepathic and empathic abilities, and that they were very strong. He knew that running into her was always a probability, but he had not planned to run into her here and now.
"No, Lt. Kelly, there's no problem," she replied, not meeting his calculating stare, trying to keep all emotion from her voice.
Suddenly, the lift stopped and everyone started leaving. It was the stop for the Commerce section. Just as she was about to get off as, he grabbed her arm. The turbolift doors closed. She had been too surprised to utter a single word at first. Then she turned to face him. Their eyes locked. In that moment, she knew he knew and there was no way to change the circumstances. They were alone in a confined space . . .
"Computer, take us down to Waste Disposal."
Before Kassia could say something to stop the lift, he clamped a hand over her mouth. She immediately bit him. He yelled out in pain and instantly grabbed her by the throat in retaliation, trying to choke her. She did the first thing that came to mind. She brought her arms around and brought them down fullforce on his arms, forcing him to release his grip. She was trying to get her breath when he came at her again. This time, as he grabbed her throat, she got a hold of his neck. As he pushed her away feeling her grasp on him, her nails raked his skin, leaving four bloody streaks.
"Damn Bitch!" he yell and hit her in the face.
Suddenly visions of the Son'a Commander entered her mind as she felt the blow sting her cheek, followed by another. She tried to fight back, but her whole body was shaking. She did land a few good blows to his midsection, but not with enough force to truly stop him. He then grabbed her arm and forced it behind her back and pushing her face first, into the wall of the turbolift. Her arm pinned her in place.
"I could do a lot more to you than just kill you," he sneered, as his other hand roamed down her backside and then up the back of her thigh.
She shuddered with fear and disgusted. This was more than she could handle. Reacting by instinct, she lifted her foot and stomped down as hard as she could on his foot. He let her go and backed off for a moment. She then turned and tried to kick him in the balls, but he was ready for her. He grabbed her leg and swung her around so she fell to the ground, her face to the floor. He then was on top of her, turning her over.
"Get off of me!" she screamed.
Again, he clamped a hand over her mouth but held it closed tightly.
"Listen to me, bitch, You are under my control now. You will live or die at my command and let me say that you ARE going to die . . . You know too much . . . But maybe I'll have a little fun with you first. Make you a diversion before I carry out more of my plans . . ."
With that, he had managed to release his hand from her mouth. Her green eyes, has hard and jade, just glared at him. Without warning, she spit in his face. She knew what it would get her, but she would rather force him to kill her all at once than allow him to destroy her at his will . . . slowly . . .
He glared back at her wiping off the spit. "You'll be sorry for that."
"I don't think so . . ." she barely managed above a whisper.
Suddenly, she felt another strike to her face and she saw stars, swiftly followed by another and another. She had lost count as her thinking became blurred. Then he was standing up. He kicked her in the gut several times, and when he finally took a break, she somehow managed to open her eyes and meet his stare.
"You'll get caught, you bastard . . ." she said, as she tried to struggle up on her hands without success. Her mouth was bloody from the blows and her cheeks were already changing color and swelling. Her chest and stomach ached. She didn't want to think of what damage he had actually done to her.
"We'll see about that," he replied menacingly as he kicked her in the head, rendering her unconscious.
As the doors to the turbolift opened, he looked around to make sure the level was deserted. He then gathered Kassia into his arms like a child and carried out of the lift. He walked a ways down a corridor and found an empty chamber. He took her in and laid her on the floor. That would keep her until either she died from internal bleeding, or he could come back and finish the job. Either way, Kassia was going to die . . . He'd make sure of it.
He exited the chamber and sealed the door, heading to the turbolift again. He had to get to his quarters and survey the damage she had done to him . . . Teeth marks, scratches and a couple of bruises he was sure. No one could know what had happened.
Tarik had just replicated a cup of coffee when he got a call from the command deck. [Garek to Tarik--you there?]
Tarik tapped his combadge. "Go ahead, Commander."
[Remember those captured weapons you brought down to me? My team's finished with them. I think you might find this of interest.]
"Acknowledged. I'm on my way."
Tarik had heard about the incident on the command deck earlier. Quite frankly he wasn't sure who was at fault: Deveraux for insubordination or Wallace for losing his temper. Either way, he was glad it really wasn't his problem at the moment. Hopefully Garek had evidence of Deveraux's innocence
"We analyzed the Starfleet ordnance you recovered from the Morristown colony," Garek said once Tarik entered the command office, the door shut firmly behind them. "We have found no evidence that could link Mr. Deveraux to these weapons other than the recording presented to Captain Wallace."
"What specifically have you found, Commander?" Tarik asked.
"Only four people on this station have the authorization to replicate heavy infantry weapons such as those you found at Morristown: you, me, Captain Wallace, and Lieutenant Anderson acting as Chief of Security. This list does not include Deveraux or anyone likely to delegate that authorization to him. No weapons were noted as unaccounted for in either the Marine or Security armory, and no Starfleet ships or facilities in our vicinity report a theft of weaponry in this quantity. Therefore, the weapons had to be replicated.
Garek picked up an anti-tank weapon twisted from the force of an explosion. "This weapon was undamaged enough for us to find what we were looking for--namely, an identifier code. All weaponry or other accountable property is marked with a code to identify the person who authorized replication. I found the necessary code inside the trigger guard," he said, tapping controls on the desk console. The code, magnified 50,000 times, displayed on the office wall monitor.
Tarik's jaw dropped. The code corresponded to Captain Wallace! "You can't be serious!"
"I was suspicious too, until I noticed this suffix at the end of the code sequence," Garek said, enhancing a segment to the right of the main code. "Using digital enhancement, I was able to regenerate the rest of the code. This is, indeed, Wallace's identifier code--as delegated to Lieutenant Kelly!"
"Son of a bitch!" Tarik said aloud as he reached for his combadge. "Tarik to Lieutenant Kelly, you're needed on the command deck."
[Acknowledged, Colonel. I'll be there in ten minutes.]
"You are needed on the command deck now, Lieutenant!"
No response.
"He knows he's been made," Garek said. "Garek to all Security personnel--under no circumstances is Lieutenant Kelly to leave the station! All outbound traffic is ordered detained until I give the order. All transporters are to be shut down and placed under guard. Kelly is to be considered hostile, armed, and dangerous!"
Tarik's combadge chirped. It was Troy--the only civilian on the station who could access his combadge. <Have you heard from Kassia? She was supposed to check on her shop fifteen minutes ago. If she's late she usually lets someone know.>
"I was supposed to meet her, but I haven't heard from her. If you hear from her, tell her to stay with you or to stay in her shop. The station is in a lock-down condition as of now!"
Tarik and Garek looked at one another. Both reached the same conclusion.
"Commander, I'm going to have my people begin a sweep of the station."
"Very good. I'll get in touch with the New Canada government and let them know the situation. Just in case Kelly's already made it dirtside, I want the civilian authorities to have as much forewarning as possible."
"Tarik to Hartman--begin a search of the station, protocol Alpha Four. Detail a squad for me in the Commerce Section in three minutes!"
Two minutes and thirty seconds later, Tarik was in the Commerce Section. A fully-ready squad of Marines awaited him.
A large crowd of civilians began to gather, wondering what had prompted the sudden appearance of twenty-four heavily-armed men and women in the Commerce Section.
"All right, people, continue about your business. We have a security situation but it will soon be under control. You can best help by returning to your shops and homes and awaiting word from me or Commander Garek that the situation is in hand," Tarik said, addressing the crowd.
Tarik drew his phaser. "All right, let's move out!" he said.
Kelly had discarded his combadge in an effort to buy time. Like it's going to do me any good at this point. Damn! I should have known Tarik would have suspected something--that bitch tells him everything!
Obtaining a first-aid kit from an escape pod, Kelly treated his injuries quickly and sloppily but well enough to hide the damage Kassia had done to him. A phaser from the same escape pod bought him a little added security. Kelly flirted with the notion of stealing the escape pod but quickly abandonned it: the command deck would be able to detect the launch.
Moving quickly, he attempted to make his way to the nearest docking pylon. Perhaps a renegade crew would be able to take him aboard without too big of a bribe...
Approaching footsteps alerted Kelly. He activated a tricorder he'd looted from the escape pod. Eight heavily armed people were headed in his direction.
Kelly opened the hatch to the nearest Jeffries tube and retreated further into the station.
Tarik, for some reason, headed down toward the lower levels of the station, his squad systematically searching and scanning every deck. Kelly had somehow managed to find a way to block the station's security sensors; a manual search was the only way of finding him.
<Hartman to Colonel Tarik--we've found a compromised escape pod on Deck 32. A first-aid kit, tricorder, and phaser have been taken. It looks like Kelly was here recently.>
"Any indication where he may have gone?" Tarik asked.
[No, sir. Wait--we've found a Jeffries tube hatch that's been opened recently. It looks like it's headed down to your location!]
"Very good, Gunny. Lay down a riot gas grenade in that Jeffries tube; I'll catch him when he falls!"
[With pleasure, sir!]
"Sir! Over here!" one of Tarik's squad yelled. Tarik immediately rushed over. Kassia had been found in a storage locker.
"Her vitals are still strong, but she's out of it! Looks like her combadge is gone, too."
She found out, and Kelly found her out! Tarik thought, his visage darkening. "Kass, honey, wake up! It's okay, we're here!" he said gently.
The squad corpsman administered a hypospray. Kassia's eyes fluttered open. "Kelly...you've got to find him!" she said, then nodded off into an easier sleep. "I've administered an anesthetic until we can get her properly treated."
"Do you know how to collect forensic evidence?" Tarik asked the corpsman, who nodded. "Good! Get a sample of any tissue not hers--it's evidence. And do whatever you need to do!"
Tarik heard a thumping sound in the distance. You're mine, asshole! he thought.
Kelly clambered down the Jeffries tube, attempting to stay below the gas from the grenade that had exploded just above him. The riot gas was heavier than air, allowing it to sink and permeate throughout this section of the station's internal chases and crawl spaces.
After ten decks, Kelly lost his grip, and began to tumble down the tube, only occasionally slowing his fall by grabbing on to a handhold from time to time. Eventually, battered and bruised, he found his way down to the bottom of the tube...back where he was.
I meant to come back here anyway, he thought. Have to teach that bitch a lesson!
Kelly opened up the hatch...and found Tarik standing in front of him. Tarik wasted no time with words. He grabbed Kelly by the front of his tunic, hauled the man out of the tube, and slammed him against the bulkhead. Kelly tried to strike back but Tarik, who was ordinarily much faster and stronger and didn't have the disadvantage of having recently breathed riot gas, blocked the blow.
Tarik grabbed Kelly's arm and threw him down the corridor. While Kelly was down, Tarik delivered a hard kick to his ribs, then picked Kelly up again, starting to squeeze his throat as Kelly cried out. "For the love of God, stop! I surrender! I surrender!" he yelled.
Something stopped Tarik. Do you really want to become what he is? he thought. Will this bring back the colonists, or exonerate Deveraux, or help Kassia? Tarik let go, allowing Kelly to drop to the deck.
"We saw it all, sir," the platoon corporal said. "The lieutenant was attempting to resist arrest. You acted appropriately." The rest of the squad nodded. Sometimes principles were more important than regulations...
"Tarik to Dr. Cherrin--two to beam directly to Sickbay. I'll be joining them shortly." Then, another message: "Tarik to Garek--Lieutenant Kelly has been apprehended and is currently in Sickbay."
[Very good, Colonel. I'll send a Security detail there at once. I'll also send Captain Wallace our findings. Hope you feel up to testifying at a court-martial!]
"Never more than now, Garek!" Tarik said, relishing the thought of Kelly sweating under the interrogation of the Judge Advocate General.