Deep in Romulan space, 3 kilometers from the Galactic Border, is the strangest posting ever conceived.
At these undisclosed coordinates exists a mobile base. This station is not much more than a framework with a couple of weapons and sensors, just enough living space to support the crew, and an area to maintain their "Freight Eagle".
The existance of the personnel at this base is monotonous. They have nothing but empty space and the Galactic Barrier to look at. Their only contact with the outside world comes monthly, when a standard Freight Eagle drops a pallet off just within a light year of the station, and sends an uncoded "ping" transmission to notify their drop. They then go on a nearly week-long trip with their "sublight" Freight Eagle to pick up their supplies, where they return to wait 3 weeks for the next ping.
The weapons have not been fired at a target since they were tested at the weaponer's test range, as this base cannot even afford to waste the material that makes up the cargo container.
The crew makes the best of this posting, as all aboard the station know that every crewmember was deemed "too important to kill" yet "too undependable to keep in the Empire". All of them can tell, in graphic detail, the cause that brought each and every crewmember to this station, as after they use up their monthly allotment of entertainment materials, there is little else to do on a drunken night, or sober duty shift.
At the head of this operation is, obviously enough, the Empire's #1 man who is both "too important to kill" yet "too undependable to keep around". This officer is the only one to have received a promotion preceding his assignment here...
Commander S'Leth awakens from his nap at the command station, to see the usual array of steady green lights. Having worked out enough for the next 2 days, S'Leth realizes he has little else to do for "official duties" till the next freight drop in a week and a half. So, he does what he's done about 10,000 times before, he picks up his data pad and proceeds to perform yet another "unannounced" inspection of the station.
He begins the inspection as usual, checking in with the crewpeople making up his bridge crew. Many of the officers stationed on the bridge were young promising officers who learned a lot, and in many cases learned one thing too many that made their existance in the Empire a threat. The Comm officer is, as everything typically seems to have, the exception. He was an older officer, a career diplomat, who was sent here when they couldn't keep him contained in the bowels of the Imperial Senate. As was typical during these inspections, S'Leth would render a salute to him to signify "all well at your post", after which S'Leth proceeded to the turbolift, to continue his inspection.
This time, all were shocked when, just after S'Leth finished the salute and turned to the turbolift, a red light started blinking and a tone sounded throughout the bridge.
The Comm Officer took one look at the panel, and wheezed out "Priority Communication from the Praetor's office" with his dying breath, as the shock of the sudden tone and recognition of the light's pattern led to a heart attack in the elderly officer.
S'Leth, long versed in priority communications from his days in the Diplomatic Service, takes over and decodes the transmission. The length of the transmission disappointed him, for it seemed no larger than the "transmissions" of static frequently misinterpreted by the older equipment as coded data, but was really just a lucky pattern of static from the barrier. However, his disappointment quickly turned to a dull shock when, after using his old code information, he realized that this was not barrier-static, but an actual message, destined primarily for him, the text of which was short, but would prove sweet to the crew.
S'Leth quickly printed this data, and used the internal comm equipment to call "all hands", even those on duty posts, to the auditorium for reception of the Praetoral message.
10 minutes later, except for the officers manning the engineering posts that could not be abandoned without shutting down the station, all hands were arrayed in perfect parade order awaiting S'Leth's proclimation. S'Leth stepped up to the podium, pulled out the printout, and spoke into the microphone, "All hands, per the Praetor's orders, we are going to receive a ship in 2 days, it is expected to be one of the new Firehawks on a "test trial". This vessel can brave the barrier's power, and shall dock directly to this station in order to pick up all hands and oversee the deactivation of this post during the anticipated crisis. We are to be ready for this event, as we shall be given no longer than 3 hours to shut down this station and board the vessel. Our presence is deemed important by the Praetor, and we are expected to serve. Long live the Praetor."
S'Leth doesn't even survey the crew, having already turned his back to them and reached the door before the crew finished their salutes and cries of "long live the Praetor" still echo throughout the walls of the auditorium. At that moment, it was more important for S'Leth to honor his dead crewman than oversee the choreographed movements of the live. S'Leth had less than 3 days to properly honor the commander of the vessel that introduced S'Leth to the ISC, and he intended to make sure that the person would receive full honors...
Topic: GW5 Fiction - Warned Ya - Um, not for the weak of heart... (Read 1902 times)