"Thorne in the Flesh"

[Joe Manning 0]

The twelfth time Admiral Thorne watched the video feed, it was no less aggravating. A panel of experts had analyzed the sensor readings accompanying Vladika's final transmission, and they all agreed -- the green blur which appeared next to cargo transport 81-Beta-3 was a Bird of Prey, a K'Vort class. Just as Vladika had attempted to gain a clearer image, the Bird of Prey cloaked.

 

"Pirates," the Admiral said for the tenth time, looking up at Lieutenant Prescott, his aide. "Lousy, damned pirates!"

 

Thorne had been recently taking a more active interest in the reports of pirate attacks along the Klingon border, but this latest incident had raised the stakes considerably. A Starfleet cruiser and all hands aboard had been lost, and the Commodore charged with overseeing patrols along the coreward half of the Klingon border was doing an inadequate job of responding.

 

"This is the fifth such incident that I've brought across my desk in the last three months," Thorne remarked, tapping the top of his desk hard with his finger. "And we've got dozens more confirmed or suspected attacks on record! Do you know how many times the name 'Qob' has appeared in those reports, Walter, attached to a different ship every time? I'll bet this is another one. It's become a damned rallying cry to them! What exactly is the Klingon government doing about this?"

 

Prescott sighed. "They give us the same answer every time we ask. Their forces are still depleted from the Dominion War. They are having difficulty maintaining patrols along our border; they are far more concerned with watching the Romulan border. Their situation is not so different from ours."

 

"Right! Meanwhile, wolves are prowling at our gates! This is precisely why I keep telling the Council that they cannot get complacent. I am tired of hearing that we are not at war with the Dominion any more. I am tired of hearing that we are making strides with the Romulans. I am tired of hearing that there is no cause to rebuild our forces because we're at peace." Thorne pointed at the holo-projection as the image of the cargo transport was suddenly replaced by static, presumably caused by the second appearance of the Bird of Prey. "Does that look like peace to you, Walter?"

 

Prescott frowned and lowered his head, thinking it best not to answer.

 

"And what in the hell kind of a shoddy operation was this?!" Thorne continued. "We lose contact with a cargo haul in Klingon space, and the only ship that is dispatched to investigate is a science vessel that should have been decommisioned a decade ago? The second that Bird was spotted, they should have reported back in to Starbase 128 and called in immediate backup from central command."

 

"Sir, it must be pointed out," Prescott replied. "That our operations along the Klingon border have not been given great priority since the Narendra III rescue. Most of the stations out there have been in operation for well over forty years. They are not well staffed or supported, especially with the cutbacks that have taken place since the Dominion War. The Trinidad was the closest Class A ship at the time of this attack, and it was three hours away at maximum warp."

 

"Which is exactly why I'm sending this to the Council!" Thorne retrieved the isorod from its port. The static was replaced by the sensor images being transmitted from Cepheus Gamma by the Trinidad; the wreckage of Vladika and the cargo transport were still being cleaned up. The Admiral stood and crossed over to the window that looked over the San Francisco Bay. "It's unacceptable! We should be restoring our fleet strength to pre-war levels. Until we do, we are sitting ducks for predators like these." He held up the isorod.

 

"Yes ... but, the Council does make fair points," Prescott said. "Restoring the fleet's strength requires labor, and not too many people are joining Starfleet these days. The war soured a lot of people. The ones that do join are more interested in exploration and discovery than they are in building and crewing warships. As far as they're concerned, we're in peacetime. They want it to remain that way too much."

 

"Which is why we should be recruiting." Thorne narrowed his eyes and tried to allow the sight of the gulls circling over the bay to relax him. "There are worlds out there with the resources and the manpower to fuel a massive rebuilding effort, and with the technology we could share they would be more than willing to contribute both."

 

Prescott took a deep breath and looked down again. He did not like it when the Admiral started along this line of discussion. "Yes, Admiral, but as always the Prime Dir--"

 

"Don't tell me about the Prime Directive!" Thorne snapped. The gulls scattered, almost in response to his voice, but more likely to the sound of a ship taking off from the local starport. "I've heard enough about the Prime Directive. My Prime Directive is preserving this Federation against the jackals that would do her harm, so that my grandkids can live on worlds like Aldebaran without worrying about when the next Klingon pirate raid will come. And I do not have the resources to ensure that that is the case. The Council needs to wake up."

 

"What could be done to convince them, though?" Prescott asked. "They have their ideals."

 

"Then let's show them that those ideals are not as well-protected as they seem to think," Thorne turned away from the window. "Commodore Blake has clearly proven that he is not up to the task of protecting our interests near the Klingon border. Send word to Starbase 128 that I will be assuming command of his operation."

 

"Sir?" Prescott asked, lifting a wary eyebrow.

 

"I will likewise be assuming command of the USS Trinidad, which is to be my command center in the region and the flagship of the operation. And I want the Commodore on board as my first officer, not in his cushy Starbase office. The only way of sufficiently addressing a problem like this," Thorne said, again lifting the isorod. "Is to meet it up close! Not to sit in a Starbase looking at sensor images and sending ill-informed orders to poorly equipped starships."

 

Prescott nodded. "Aye, sir. I will send word to the Commodore and Trinidad. What is to be our objective?"

 

"To hunt down these pirates," Thorne said. "We're going to get good clear picture of the extent of their activities, so that the Council can be shown that there are hostile agents prowling around our borders and that the time has come to do something about it! And in the process, we're going to find the bastards that destroyed the Vladika and show them that their days of screwing with the Federation are over."