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SD241812.22 - Plot Log - "Oh Good, Klingons." - Part 2

Posted on Sat Dec 22nd, 2018 @ 7:58pm by Brigadier General Jonathan Grey
Edited on on Mon Dec 24th, 2018 @ 6:42am

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

OOC: ...The Story So far...

An engineering team has been dispatched by a Starfleet Admiral to upgrade the Ops centre, due to some apparent specism against our hard-working CEO (due to her Klingon heritage).

As this was unfolding, a seasoned Klingon battle fleet uncloaked within the Versailles perimeter! General Bok called to exchange pleasentries, before implying that more serious matters were afoot.

And now, the story continues...

IC:

=^= Senior Officers Conference Room =^=

General Grey stood in front of the long table, regretting the need to use this room instead of his office. Sadly the thing was a shoebox, and he felt no pressing need to share a shoebox with a Klingon General and his posse of bodyguards. Especially since the shoebox was meant to be a temporary office, and thus had nearly no furnishings at all; just a desk and three chairs.

Not for the first time, he wondered when they'd be finished building his new office. The old CO's suite had been utterly gutted in its entirety, and he'd annoyed a number of the engineering staff by insisting that the marines be involved at every step. Any unknown devices were queried, and every unfamiliar technology had been interrogated.

Grey had no intention of having an old CO drop in unannounced, through some tunnel or beam-in window left unsecured. If that did happen, he planned to get very upset, and the appropriate armaments had been arranged to enable him to express those feelings in no uncertain terms.

"Sir." came the voice of the General's Yeoman, Lieutenant Rogers. "The shuttle pilot has reported in. General Bok has boarded, along with the standard retinue for wartime negotiations; one advisor, and four bodyguards."

"Ignoring the fact that we are not actually at war with the Klingons." the General replied, biting back a jibe about Klingons always being at war with *somebody*.

"Nonetheless, they are at war with the Romulans, and a General must take precautions." Rogers remarked. No tone rode on his voice, but there was little doubt that the yeoman considered a one-on-one meeting extremely unwise.

"We have precautions. I have thousands of security officers at my beck-and-call, and over a hundred marines ready to trample this guy into the carpet if he tries anything. But only if I don't do it first."

"Sir, he assassinated the last Fleet Commander."

"In one-on-one combat, witnessed by over a dozen senior officers. Brutal, but honourable."

"Perhaps more honourable than what he did to the man's bodyguards beforehand, sir."

Grey paused, and turned to stare at his Yeoman.

"This is news to me. What did he do to the bodyguards?"

"Well..." Rogers trailed off, interrupted by a series of beeps from his secure padd. "An update from the shuttle pilot, sir. They have passed through our shields without incident, and they are ready to beam in."

"We will resume this discussion later." said the General, annoyed. "Send in the Klingons."

Moments later, eight pillars of light appeared in the briefing room. Two of the pillars faded to reveal Starfleet marines, escorts for the visiting "guests". The other six bore Klingons of varying stature, including four over-muscled warriors, a shorter one with a brown padd, and General Bok.

"Leave us." General Bok instructed his men, his tones smoother than the typical Klingon accent; that being akin to a throat filled with gravel.

Grey nodded to his Yeoman and the marines, and the three left the room with the Klingons.

This was a private party.

"Computer," Grey said to the walls as the door closed, "seal the room."

The resultant bleeps did not quite cover a series of thunks from the door as physical locks clamped into place. Jefferies tubes were sealed, a level ten forcefield was erected around all points of access, and a little red light lit up on someone's display panel in Security.

"On Klingon vessels, a room such as this would already be sealed." Bok remarked, measuring up his counterpart with an assessing gaze.

"And one of us would be dead by now." Grey replied, feeling his eyes tingle as he resisted the urge to blink.

"Indeed." said Bok, impassively.

"But we're not on a Klingon ship. We're on a Federation Starbase, in Federation territory. And you have us down the barrel of a phaser."

"The Klingon Empire and the Federation council are allies." Bok replied, mildly.

"So why were we not notified of your arrival?"

"An excellent question. Perhaps you should ask your superiors?"

Grey frowned at that remark, tapping his comm badge and looking off to one side.

"Grey to Rogers. Get me Starfleet Command right the hell now."

"Rogers here. Sir, the Admiral is still in conference."

"Oh sure, I'll just play some hold music for the Klingon fleet shall I?" Grey snarked, forgetting for a moment that General Bok was in the same room.

"...Should I interrupt her?"

"Yes. Right now." Grey repeated, his lips tightening to a thin line.

After a few moments of silence, a new voice came over the comm.

"General Grey, this had better be important, or it's your hide." whispered Admiral Deus.

"I have a Klingon Strike Force on my doorstep Admiral. General Bok tells me I should have known in advance."

"Yes yes yes. The K'tang, correct? Important business, highest levels of approval.....should have? Wait, what do you mean?" she asked, halting her rushed diatribe.

"I wasn't told. Nobody here was told."

"That's impossible, we used all official channels for the notification."

"Apparently none of them work. Good thing my people have calm heads, or we could have started a war here."

"...I will look into this, you have my word." the Admiral promised. "For now, your orders are to cooperate with General Bok and his mission. You are to grant his troops full access to Versailles and all personnel aboard, understand?"

"What?! Why?!" Grey shouted, completely forgetting his guest. Fortunately Klingons were used to shouting at all hours of the day and night, so this experienced General didn't even raise an eyebrow.

"There's been a security breach, and the Klingons can help you find it. I'll transmit full details later, face to face over subspace. Must go. Bye."

"I...you..." Grey trailed off, hearing a tone that signalled the end of a call.

Turning his attentions back to General Bok, Grey tried to rally his thoughts. The Admiral had said that Bok was expected, that there was some manner of security breach, and that he was to give the Klingon fleet full and unrestricted access to the entire station.

He wondered if the entirety of Starfleet Command had completely lost their minds.

"So, yes, there was a problem with communication." Grey admitted to his guest. "I'm told you can help us with some sort of security breach?"

"Yes." stated Generak Bok, unpeturbed by the twists and turns thus far. "During a series of raids on Romulan facilities, we have uncovered hard evidence that the remnants of the Tal'Shiar have been improving their abilities to mimic other races. These Mimic Agents use a form of DNA adjustment our scientists have not seen before. It is adaptive, and hard to detect, even at close range. The only way to be certain is a DNA sample, followed by a series of tests on the mind and body."

"And you suspect these Mimic Agents are here?"

"Indeed. Versailles was explicitly mentioned in a decrypted message sent to several Tal'Shiar cells. We do not know how many were in each cell, nor do we know how many received the message. At least one cell was wiped out, so we cannot know for certain if any agents received the message."

"So, assuming they are here, how would they get through our security?"

"The technique rips the surface layer from a person's mind, imprinting the data into a modified Romulan. The man next to you could be a mimic agent, and you would not know it. Nor would he, until triggered. We do not know the triggers, so we must test everyone."

"Everyone? There are over thirty thousand people aboard this station right now." Grey stated, deciding the refugees weren't exactly a secret.

"Which is why we were told to come." stated General Bok. "My people have the technology and the experience to run these tests."

"And you're certain none of your people are Mimic Agents?"

"The technique doesn't work on Klingon physiology."

Grey nodded. This was a grim and unpleasant scenario, but it made sense. Simply sending the testing methods over subspace wouldn't help if you couldn't be sure the people handling the message and running the tests were not Mimic Agents.

"Very well. I'll inform my department heads to cooperate with your people."

General Bok nodded and turned to leave, abruptly. Grey raised an eyebrow, but decided not to push and simply released the seal on the room to allow his counterpart to leave.

Rogers entered the room as soon as the Klingon General had left, looking expectantly at his CO. His boss was rubbing his brow again, and that was never a good sign.

"Lieutenant," said Grey, eventually breaking his silence, "when will it end?"

"I couldn't say, sir. I'm not sure it does."

"Yep, that's what I thought."


=^= End of Log =^=

Brigadier General Jonathan Grey
Commanding Officer
Starbase Versailles

&&

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

 

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