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SD241904.22 - Plot Log - Grey - "Collision Alert" - part 1

Posted on Mon Apr 22nd, 2019 @ 2:42pm by Brigadier General Jonathan Grey

914 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Sincerest Form of Flattery
Location: Versailles
Timeline: Current

=^= General Grey's Office =^=

"Sir, I cannot recommend this."

"Didn't we already have this conversation?"

"Yes sir."

"Right before I visited the promenade, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And that turned out perfectly fine."

"You were blown up, sir."

"Just a flesh wound."

"And shot."

"Only a scratch."

"You almost died from blood loss."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't. That's an order."

"Medical science doesn't take orders sir. And right now it's telling you to go back to bed, not to get into a brawl with a Klingon General."

"I'm not going to hit him."

"Really, sir? Really?"

"I won't!"

"As you say, sir."

"Too late now, anyway."

In the centre of the General's dome-office, a bright column of light illuminated a circle in the floor. Subtle changes in the air pressure indicated the arrival of a guest through the layers of vault-style doors that guarded the oft-attacked General from his many enemies.

Though right now they were opening for an angry Klingon General, so Grey was forced to wonder how effective they actually were...

The wondering was cut short when the last door opened in the floor, and the furious General glared at Grey from the moment his head emerged from the floor. Fury radiated off of the man in waves, but he remained silent until the final door re-sealed the room behind him, and his feet lightly touched the floor.

"How dare you." said the Klingon General, a soft voice that carried more menace than any shout. He stalked up to Grey, causing the Sergeant by his side to shift his grip on the rifle he carried.

"I am told that you have evicted my forces. Explain yourself." General Bok demanded, his voice a tranquil lake of fire.

"The Romulan Mimic Agents are not all Romulans." Grey replied, meeting Bok's gaze.

"...We are aware of this. Your actions are-"

"You didn't tell us." Grey interrupted. "You didn't tell *me*."

"You wouldn't have let us keep the mimics we found if you thought they were your species." Bok explained.

"And how did that work out for you?"

"Poorly. Your forces detained all the mimics we detected. In any case, this still does not explain why you evicted my forces."

"Other than conspiracy to abduct actual Starfleet personnel, and civilians, by lying to me? How about the fact that some of the mimic agents in the hospital attack had already been interviewed."

*This* gave the Klingon pause. He finally stopped coming closer, and lost a little of the tension in his step.

"You can prove this?" he inquired, carefully.

Or, at least, the Klingon version of carefully.

"I can." Grey replied. "We will have the medical reports sent to your ships. They clearly identify at least three individuals that were tested."

"...I see."

"Did you know that your test is not accurate?"


"Were you planning on telling me?"

Bok gave Grey an assessing look at this, weighing his options.


"So what, precisely, was your end game here? You'd never know for sure that you'd gotten them all, and it only takes one..."

"The data we recovered was...almost entirely destroyed. We hoped that a concentration of agents would allow us to refine the technique."

"However," said Grey, his voice gaining the Klingon's former, deadly tone, "if you could not refine the technique. If you were unable to guarantee that no mimics remained here. With all of your troops onboard, and your fleet at hand. I already know what your Plan B was, but I want you to say it."

"The plan was to destroy Versailles."

"I was wrong." said Grey. "Hearing you say it didn't help."

"It helped more than you know."


"Some of my people were....investigating the best points to disable your facility. My hope was to overwhelm your crew, and force surrender, sparing many lives, and preventing war with the Federation."

"What stopped you?"

"Nothing. If I do not report back within the next ten minutes, our devices will disable your shield grid and several primary weapon arrays."

"How the hell didn't we spot this? The Klingon patrol teams you sent were a bunch of hot-headed fools. They'd never be least we assumed they'd never be....dammit." Grey concluded, glowering.

"Yessss." said Bok, with just the faintest hint of pride.

" how does this help us?"

"Because, in laying our own devices, we found and disabled several of Romulan design. They were attached to your auxiliary power grid."

"And the primary?"

"It was too well defended. There, at least, you can be proud of your people."

"Except some of our people were mimics. Damn damn-"


The walls of the dome shone an alarming shade of red, marking out the words "Red alert!" in massive block capitals.

"I, just, but, ahhhhh!" shouted Grey, frustrated by this sudden surge of yet another problem.

"Grey to Ops, what in the merry hell is going on?"

"You better get down here sir. Something weird is going on."

"That tells me nothing. Well done." Grey sighed, tired of all this. "I'm on my way."

Turning his attention back to the Klingon, Grey held his eye for a few moments, attempting to centre himself.

"Can you hold off destroying us until after we've solved this catastrophe?"

"No." replied the Klingon, mercilessly. "You have five minutes left."


=^= To be continued... =^=

Brigadier General Jonathan Grey
Commanding Officer
Starbase Versailles


General Bok
Fleet Commander
Klingon Strike Force "K'tang"


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