Bravo Fleet
PrologueFederation Space – Gamma Okana SystemFederation Penal Colony 47 – Three years agoNo one would have thought that such a place needed to exist. That a need for such a colony would mean that an old and mothballed federation outpost would be retrofitted into a Super-Max Penal Colony. Only those with the clearance knew about Penal Colonies such as this one. Their existence is a rude slap in the face to what society thinks, that every man or woman can change and be granted a second chance at life, which is why their existence, their operations, remain classified and kept from knowledge or recorders.Everyone had thought that such tendencies had been taken out of man over the passed hundreds of generations. That even species such as the Klingon’s a warrior caste race knew the sense of honor and not unbridled rage and killing.However, with the emergence of the House of D’Ghor, and its rogues, the Hunter’s of D’Ghor, the colony had been built, and anyone deemed unfit to rejoin society, unfit to be given a second chance because of failing to accept social norms, was sent there.
Federation Space – Gamma Okana System
Federation Penal Colony 47 – Three days prior
Colony Log: Captain Hu
Location: Federation Penal Colony 47 in the Gamma Okana System.
My officers and I have continued to express the lack of humanity on this station in regards to the conditions in which some of our prisoners are being kept. It’s as if the Federation or some higher authority has deemed these men less than their species. I know that this kind of treatment is far below standards and the core values of the Federation and its ideals.
I do not know if any of my logs have been read. Hell, I am starting to think that my men and I have been sent here as punishment for some misdeed that we have done in our careers. As to what that could have been for myself, a highly decorated and honored Starfleet Captain, I do not know.
On a more pressing matter, our connection to the Federation has been completely cut off. Where once there were Federation and Klingon icons indicating the locations of life. Now there are none.
I have tried to contact frequently, anyone in the Federation, and once someone from the Klingon’s. No one has responded; the only thing that we have received is pure static. This happened quite suddenly, as a note. Someone is going to lose their job for sure.
One a side note; I did for a microsecond detect an anomaly, that has since not shown itself again. I have assigned one of my men to investigate.
End Log
Federation Space – Gamma Okana System
Cell Block D – Cell 437 – Atsak Runtoh
Atsak sat on the bottom bunk in his cell. The wool blanket that was provided scratched the skin on his legs. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine. Though he’s a fallen Klingon warrior from a disavowed and dissolved house, the feeling of the wool against his skin is an irritant that reminds him of the cold, hard steel floors of the training house that he once trained in, when he was in his youth.
A single light above the cell door hummed and flickered, drawing his attention momentarily. The sound reminded him of a time when he had made a fool of himself and was arrested for being too drunk, even for a Klingon, and had to spend a night in the brig of a Federation station.
A monitoring device was attached to his ankle, which gave off a discreet signal to the guards, irritating his skin as well. The sound of boots on metal grating echoed into the open area and downward into the courtyard below, as a guard patrolled the catwalk just outside his cell.
A sigh left his mouth as he stared out into the starry night sky, from the only distraction provided to him, a single, barred window. Though as of now, it was open, allowing the cool night air in. Though the cool night air was not natural as it was being pumped in from some other area, it was still refreshing from the stagnant air that replaced it during the daylight hours.
Broken was his body, not physically, but his spirit, his warrior’s blood, still boiled and raged. Even though his house no longer existed, and his clan members were either dead or rotting in some hellhole like he was.
He still held vengeance on his mind for the woman who had caused him to become the man that he is now. Oh, how he despised Vausees Vax and the crew of the USS Heracles, and given the chance, he would destroy every one of them with his bare hands, starting with her.
In his mind, he could see her red tunic, covered in debris and clumps of dirt. Her midsection was wrapped in a bloodstained bandage, probably a bedsheet or something like it.
The bloodstain, oh, how he could remember, was so fresh that it seeped into the fibers as it tried to help stem its flow.
As he took in a breath, he could swear that the smell of her blood still filled the air between them. Pungent and coppery. The thought of it sent is blood boiling further. His heartbeat quickened and matched the hum of the flickering light in his cell. His fist clenched into a tight ball as he closed his eyes and wished that he could see her in such a state again.
But alas, he knew that it was nothing more than a memory, a good memory, a warrior’s memory.
Federation Space – Gamma Okana System
Underspace
Thalos sat in the command seat on the bridge of his Manasa-class ship. His eyes were focused on the corridor as both debris and asteroid-sized rocks blurred passed them. He knew that they would never hit anything within the tunnels and corridors that lay under the destabilized subspace.
Looking down at the chrono on the console of his chair, he knew that they were only moments from exiting the underspace and into the Gamma Okana System, where the penal colony that held their guest was located.
‘As much as I despise other species, I can not let someone like this Atsak slip through my fingers and not use him like the tool I see him as, ’ Thalos thought as he looked up from the chrono’s to the viewscreen, just moments before a flash of light and an aperture opened and his ship exited out of the underspace.
Before him flowed an asteroid cluster, and at its center, surrounded by a security defense, stood what he was looking for. A massive rock with a compound built into and around it.
“Ah, the Federation Penal Colon 47,” he said out loud to no one. “Make our way to the furthest building to the left.”
The pilot acknowledged the order, and their fingers flew over the console, and the ship flew in the desired direction. Luckily for them, the sensor grid was still down, so their movements were undetected.
As they approached the farthest building, Thalos began to search for any access point. His eyes were glued to the console when it began to flash and beep, indicating an access port.
“Bring us in close and attach us to that port,” he ordered, sending the location to the pilot. A soft clank echoes as the umbilical attaches to the access port on the side of the building.
He then stood up and headed for the ship’s hatch. “Once I am inside, get to a safe distance and remain there until I call for you,” he states as the umbilical pressurizes and the hatch opens with a hiss.
Thalos steps off the ship and walks through the umbilical to the sealed door of the access port. His eyes narrow as he looks it over. He places a hand on the cold steel and feels around for a moment before finding the hidden panel. With a press, the panel slides away, and a display appears.
Looking at the display, he reaches out and presses the only icon on it, and the door releases with a sudden groan, the sound of steel-on-steel echoes into the umbilical and the corridor in front of him. Years of not being used and the coldness of space had caused the door to stick momentarily. Shoving his shoulder and body into the partly opened door, it slides free and into its place between the bulkheads of the wall.
Stepping through the door, he pulls his polaron rifle from his back and moves quickly through the hallway as the door slides back into place, this time with a more silent movement. Alone and in a dimly lit corridor, he looks about silently, making sure that he is alone and hasn’t alerted anyone to his arrival.
Satisfied that no one is aware of him, he moves quietly down the corridor and makes his way to the courtyard. Luckily, the timing of his arrival has coincided with what the humans refer to as nighttime, and he is greeted with a mostly dark area.
Thalos slips from shadow to shadow, the entire time his eyes are searching for anyone or any movement. A couple of times, he spots a sentry roving about the catwalks above.
Taking his time, he moves and keeps an eye on the sentries, he calculates that he can make it up the stairs and down the catwalks without being noticed. Normally, stealth was not something that he did. He preferred it messy and bloody. However, since he was alone on this endeavor, he knew that silence was key to keeping an almost invisible appearance.
Scaling the last of the steel grated stairs, he noticed that a sentry was posted, with their back to him, on the corridor that he needed. Slinging his rifle, he silently moves up behind the sentry and, with a quick movement of his arms, he wraps their throat in a tight hold, while covering their mouth. The sentry struggles as their feet leave the ground and then goes limp in Thalos’ arms.
Setting the body down, he drags the limp body into the dimly lit corridor with ease. After depositing the body, he moves down the corridor and arrives at cell 437, Atsak Runtoh. He peers into the cell through the paneled window and notices the Klingon lying on his side with his back to the door.
‘Oh, how simple it would be to enter and dispatch this fool,” he thought to himself, ‘if you were not so important to my plan,’
Slipping into the cell, he placed a hand over the Klingon’s mouth. He felt the man struggle, and saw Atsak’s eyes go wide at the sight of him.
In a low voice, he spoke, “If you want to get out of here, do not make a sound when I remove my hand, do you understand?”
Atsak nodded, and when the hand slipped from his mouth, he spoke softly, “Who the hell are you?”
Thalos kept it simple, “Rescue.”
Atsak didn’t need further explanation at this time and stood up. He followed Thalos, step for step. When he passed the unconscious sentry, he reached down and picked up the phase rifle and slung it onto his back. Thalos looked at Atsak. “He’s not going to be using it anytime soon, and it looks like we might need it,” he indicated a single flashing red light from a camera at the end of the corridor.
Thalos looked to where the Klingon had motioned and swore, “Fuck, so much for my in and out without detection.”
The sounds of boots on steel could be heard as more sentries started to approach. Atsak looked at Thalos, “What’s your brilliant plan now?”
Thalos stood there for a moment, “Looks like we’re going to have to fight our way back the way I came in.”
Atsak grinned and unslung the rifle, “Good enough for me. I’ve been dying for some action,” he states as he looks at the rifle’s power and sees that it is fully charged. “After all, it is a good day to die.”
“Let’s hope not, Klingon.” Thalos retorted as they began to move quickly back the way that Thalos had come.
Phaser bolts flew passed their heads as they ran down the catwalks and stairs. Every so often, they would stop to return fire. Only once did either of them score a direct hit on a sentry that had stood out in the open. The sentry’s red shirt vaporized along with their entire body as Atsak’s phaser bolt hit them. A wicked grin then crossed the Klingon’s lips, “Not as good as a disruptor but still the same effect,” he said as he caught up with Thalos.
Moments later, the two made it to the corridor that Thalos had entered from. Reaching down, Thalos retrieved a communication device and signaled for his pilot to start their run for them. The pilot acknowledged and began their approach.
When Thalos and Atsak arrived at the end of the corridor, the door was open, and the pilot stood there motioning for them to hurry with his arms. Atsak came to a stop ahead of Thalos and spun to his left on his knees, leveling his rifle toward him. A bolt left the end of the rifle and soared passed the Vaadwaur’s head as it headed toward a sentry that was almost upon them. A muffled scream was heard for a second before the sentry disappeared.
Not wasting any more time, the two of them left the building and entered Thalos’ Manasa-class ship. The pilot had already taken his seat behind the controls, and as soon as the hatch to the ship had closed and the umbilical had detached from the door, he slammed the power to max and made a beeline for their exit.
Location – Unknown
Underspace
Once they were safely within the tunnels and corridors of the network within the underspace, everyone relaxed. Thalos looked over at Atsak.
“Follow me,” he said
Atsak nodded and followed the Vaadwaur off the bridge and into his private quarters. Taking a seat, he looked at the Klingon. “I have a feeling that you want to know why I broke you out of that prison.”
“Yes, and also why a Vaadwaur is in the Beta Quadrant,” Atsak asked as he took the open seat across from Thalos.
“The why is none of your concern as to why I broke you out. Well, let’s just say that you have some history where we are heading, and I could use someone like you,” Thalos said as he poured some blood wine into a mug and slid it to Atsak.
Atsak took the offered drink and downed it. He set the mug down and eyed Thalos. “History, you say, and where are we headed?”
“Archanis IV,” replied Thalos as he folded his hands.
As soon as Atsak heard the name of where they were heading, his eyes narrowed, and a smile crossed his lips. “Indeed. I can assume that that planet is still protected by the Federation?”
Thalos shrugged, “How should I know?”
“Well, if it is and if a certain captain and her crew are there, then a bloodbath will be guaranteed to happen,” Atsak stated as he took the mug once more after Thalos refilled it.
“I take it that you and this captain also have history?”
“She’s the reason you found me in that hellhole.”
“I see. Well then, let us both hope that she is.”
Federation Space – Archanis IV
Underspace
Meanwhile…
In the darkness of the sector, a sudden, brilliant flash of light erupts for a second before the area descends back into the darkness. Out of the darkness, a single Vaadwaur ship, Pythus-class, moves silently. Its advanced sensors and scanners are actively searching for any signs of movement or life.
Banking hard to the left, it points its bow to a purple marble off in the far distance. A mere speck of light illuminated by the sector’s sun. There in the distance was the pilot’s destination.