Welcome to Star Trek Simulation Forum

Register now to gain access to all of our features. Once registered and logged in, you will be able to contribute to this site by submitting your own content or replying to existing content. You'll be able to customize your profile, receive reputation points as a reward for submitting content, while also communicating with other members via your own private inbox, plus much more! This message will be removed once you have signed in.

Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0
Victria

A Single Reason

Corizon leaned back with a sigh while he waited for the turbolift to halt, wondering if would have been better if they'd simply stayed in the lost parts of the Gamma Quadrant instead of coming home to a royal mess, in a royal mess. The lift doors finally opened and deposited him a few sections down from Victria's quarters. In a way he understood her frustration. He'd had to sit by idly while the Dominion raided Dameon Prime, and was powerless to stop it. Now he was the instrument keeping her from her people in their time of need. He paused outside of her door. Even from the moment he'd met her nearly three years ago, when she'd taken him prisoner on Al-Ucard, he couldn't remember being so apprehensive about seeing her as he was now. Finally, after a deep breath, he chimed the door.

 

The doors opened without voice command and she stood waiting for him. Two packed bags waited by the door. "Well?" she asked directly, obviously not interested in small talk. She did at least move aside to let him enter and stalked past him into the living area, though she elected to pace rather than sit. "Well?" she repeated. "What excuse are they going to give me this time?"

 

"The good of your people."

 

"Explain," she grated out.

 

Sitting before speaking, he leaned back into the spartan couch. "I don't know how much you've been able to get out of your contacts..."

 

"Absolutely nothing," she admitted. "Which means they are already embroiled in the war. Or dead. Or someone is preventing the messages from reaching them." She paced in front of the armchair, though her gaze flitted to him now and again as she moved. "Which is it?"

 

His golden eyes watched her carefully, more out of habit than anything else -- hunters gave up habits with great difficulty. "A little of all three." He tossed her a PADD from his pants pocket and waited for the screaming, throwing, or, and he hoped this wasn't her reaction, killing.

 

She snatched it deftly from the air and activated it with a tap of her thumb, scrolling through the contents quickly. Her scowl deepened and she snarled. Her gaze snapped back to him as she ceased to pace and stood dangerously still.

 

That was good, she wasn't killing him -- yet. "That's classified beyond, well, anyone on this ship and just about everyone in the Quadrant. As you can see, Starfleet can't actually prove a damned thing, but they have their suspicions. Shortly after the attacks, they think that it must have forced a couple of the more senior houses that had been on the fence to openly commit to the rebellion."

 

"With good reason!" She threw the padd back at him. "Starfleet has known this was going on ever since the report from the Saladin and they have done nothing. Instead, they have invited the Scorpiad into their own house, giving them ample time to mass their forces and grow in strength." Her eyes flashed as she began to pace once more. "You know as well as I do, Ah-Windu, that they will only be passive until they believe they have the advantage. Then they will snap their pincers shut and sever the Federation in half."

 

Catching the PADD he nodded somberly. "I am not saying I agree with it, but the Federation isn't going to recognize the rebellion. They can't afford to legitimize that government at the risk of alienating the Scorpiads."

 

"On the other hand," he said cheerlessly, "we don't exactly have a vested interest in the Scorpiads winning that war anytime soon."

 

"Alienating? No. Provoking, more like it," she said accusingly. "Your Federation is afraid to they might provoke the Scorpiad into acting sooner than they would like. Instead, they are content to do nothing while my people, and all of the others that the Scorpiad have oppressed for centuries, continue to die."

 

"I do not fault them this, if only because they have their own lives and worlds to protect -- but I cannot stand and watch Starfleet's folly, knowing full well what will come to pass."

 

"You're absolutely right. The Federation isn't going to risk war over it, no. We can, and will, hide behind the prime directive for as long as we need to, but like I said, we don't have any real desire to see them win. In fact, it'd make us pleased as punch to see them eradicated, but that's not really an option the Federation and Starfleet will openly commit too..."

 

Despite the gravity of the situation, a small, fanged grin crept across his face. Waggling his finger, he resumed. "However, what they are going to do, officially, is keep looking for clues. If they can pin the attacks to the Scorpiads with irrefutable evidence, we'll be able to leverage them into not attacking, we do, after all, control the wormhole which they so desperately need to power their ship yards."

 

"Unofficially, and here's where you come in, the people I work with have... well they haven't authorized, because you can't authorize a damned illegal thing, have agreed that certain... intelligence leaks to your people -- like Scorpiad fleet movements and what we pick up on their diplomatic channels we monitor here -- could be most useful to the cause of your rebellion."

 

She paused behind her chair and dug her nails violently into the fabric. "Such a nice sentiment, but you and I both know that it will not be enough. Clues? Fact finding? They have been at this for centuries and hide their actions well. You will discover nothing they do not wish you to discover. Let slip all the secrets you like, but most of them will be false leads and will only get my people killed faster. What the Al-Ucard really need is a reason to continue. A glimmer of hope that will push them forward. You do not realize how set in their ways those of the Council will be. That they have simply gone to war will not be enough. These creatures were our GODS! How long before they revert to that worship? My people need firsthand knowledge that these things can be killed, slain... that they are only mortal beings with mortal weaknesses."

 

"Material support is out of the question," he said quickly. "What would you suggest?"

 

"I can give them all of those things," she said, now dangerously calm. "I can keep them on the path to victory."

 

"You're not going to go be Joan de'Arc of your people," he said dismissively. "You'd just be going and getting yourself killed."

 

"You do not know my fate. I know of what I am capable," she replied through clenched teeth.

 

He sighed, knowing how stubborn Victria could be. "But I'll make you a deal, just between the two of us."

 

"Try it my way for three months. If you're not satisfied and think the only way to help your people is go charging into battle against the gods, then so be it, but at least give my way a chance. If you do, when the time comes, I'll see what I can about gaining recognition of the rebel Council as a legitimate governing body. If that happens, the Federation will have little choice but to get involved."

 

"Why?! Why should I stay when you have little chance of holding me?" Though her rage was slowly draining away, the frustration would not be pushed aside so easily.

 

Corizon took a deep breath and considered Victria for a long moment. "One of the leaders of your clan, Gasol, he's missing correct?"

 

She tensed. "What do you know that you are not telling me?"

 

"One of our ships intercepted a distress call from his ship, Night's Vengence..."

 

"Night's Vengence is my clan's warship." Her lower lip began to bleed where she'd bitten down. "You knew that, did you not?"

 

"I didn't know that until after I got the report," he said. "By the time our ship got there, it was already ablaze in space. However, the crew wasn't aboard..."

 

"Why are you telling me now?" she asked. "Starfleet would never sanction a search and rescue mission that would not benefit them."

 

"That would be correct," he said flatly. "On the other hand your own people don't have this information yet, now do they?"

 

"I could not know and I have no way of informing them, considering the circumstances."

 

"On the deck 90 of Camelot there is a highly classified cover communications array, my access code is Alpha Alpha Epsilon Charlie Nine Three Seven Zeta."

 

She stared. "You will lose your ship if your superiors discover that you have given me this."

 

"Yes, well, if I am caught passing information to you that will be the least of my worries."

 

Her gaze dropped as she considered. Finally, she relinquished the death-grip she had on the back of the chair and glanced back to meet his eyes. "You have your three months."

 

"Thank you, Victria."

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!


Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.


Sign In Now
Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0