Task Force 12 by Stephen Errity "Opening Moves" by Stephen Errity ''Tal Shiar vessels will be in weapons range in ten seconds,'' the tactical officer reported. To a casual observer, Captain Catherine Hayes should have been worried. The Arromanches was a large, clumsy carrier, no match for the brand new Tal Shiar vessels now heading toward her. However, the Arromanches was a carrier, after all, and it was what she carried that mattered. Captain Hayes was thinking just this as she gave the order. It was just one word. ''Launch!'' Ensign Tyne was jolted awake by the blaring klaxons. He sat up, swung his legs off the bunk and sprinted for the main shuttlebay. The bay was cavernous, taking up most of the Arromanches' secondary hull. Tyne's boots clanged off the metal gangways as he made his way to Hangar Level 4. He bounded down the last flight of steps and charged across the shuttlebay towards his Peregrine- class fighter, AR-05. The crew chief gave him the thumbs up and threw him his helmet. Tyne held out his hands and caught it expertly, before climbing into the cockpit of his fighter. ''Alright, here they come. Commander, Attack Pattern Theta Nine. We've got to cover the Arromanches long enough for her to complete launching,'' said Romanov. ''Understood,'' Commander Ford's voice was flat calm as his fingers moved swiftly over the tactical console. ''Saratoga is in position,'' he said. ''All ships, engage!'' The Saratoga and the Kursk moved line abreast towards the Romulan vessels. The Arromanches followed. The lightly-armed Curie did its best to stay out of harm's way. As the two lead vessels exchanged fire with the Romulans, the Arromanches' massive shuttlebay doors opened. Like hornets from a nest, the twelve Peregrines swarmed out and began to converge on the Tal Shiar ships. ''This is Red Leader, we're taking the sucker to starboard. Attack Pattern Omega Three.'' ''Red Two, acknowledged.'' ''Red Three, acknowledged.'' Ensign Tyne warmed up his phaser cannons and piloted AR-05 into an attack posture. The little ship closed fast on the Romulan vessel, which was making a beeline for the Arromanches. It was ignoring the fighters. Arrogant fools, thought Tyne. ''Red Flight, open fire!'' he shouted. The Tal Shiar vessel took phaser hits in three different locations at once. Its shields fizzled and the ship veered off course. It swung around and came straight for Red Flight, disruptors blazing. Red Flight soon found out why the Romulans could afford to be arrogant, as Red Three took a hit to its starboard wing. Ensign Stevenson struggled with the controls as his craft spun out of control. ''This is Red Three! I'm hit! I'm hit! Venting drive plasma. Thrusters not respon...'' Those were the last words he uttered, as more disruptor fire slammed into his helpless craft, destroying it completely. ''Bastards!'' roared Tyne. He recharged phaser banks and called Red Two in for another run. Tyne got off several ineffective hits before his ship was hit by a barrage of disruptor fire. The console beside him exploded, sending broken glass flying all over the cockpit. Tyne grimaced as a piece tore into his cheek. He put his hand up to his face and felt blood pouring from the wound. His fighter jolted again. A coolant tank ruptured, filling the cockpit with smoke. Tyne coughed and spluttered. He could barely see what was going on around him. As he turned back to the panel, he felt dizzy for a second, then blacked out. The Saratoga singled out one vessel and began pounding it mercilessly with phaser fire. The enemy ship barely had time to get off a retaliatory shot before its shields collapsed. ''Sir, Red Flight has run into trouble. They're engaging the vessel on the starboard flank,'' boomed Commander Edwards. ''Get us to them, Ensign!'' said Captain Scott urgently. ''Aye, sir,'' replied Satar. The Saratoga surged forward at full impulse, shoving the drifting Tal Shiar ship aside with its shields. The damaged ship spun uncontrollably away until two Peregrines of Blue Flight closed in and cut it apart with phaser fire. ''Red Leader, this is Red Two, please respond!'' Lieutenant Michelle Fletcher wrestled with the controls of her craft as she tried to cover AR-05, which was now adrift. Fletcher's fighter could not take much more punishment. Michelle looked out the cockpit window in horror as the Tal Shiar ship destroyed Green Three with impunity and headed toward her again. She looked down at her control panel. Weapons were offline and only one thruster manifold was working. She looked up again. The Romulan ship was getting closer. At that moment, her view was blocked by a warp nacelle as the Saratoga swooped in over the fighter. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Akira-class ship registered a series of devastating hits on the Romulan vessel. ''Direct hit. Their shields are down to 37%!'' ''Nice shooting, Bob,'' said Captain Scott, clinging to his seat as the Romulans hit back. ''Sir!'' shouted Kyoto tersely from the ops position. ''The Tal Shiar ship is changing course!'' The Talon-class ship executed a barrel roll over the top of the Saratoga, pounding the Federation ship with disruptor fire. The Saratoga's weakened shields held up for only a few seconds. ''Dorsal shields are down! We...'' The console behind Commander Edwards exploded in a shower of sparks. Bob picked himself up and shouted over the hissing fire extinguishers, ''We took a hit to the weapons pod. We've got a hull breach and torpedo coolant leaks up there. Fore and aft launchers inoperable!'' ''Damn! Ensign, full about!'' Scott ordered. Satar complied. The Saratoga spun like a Christmas decoration, bringing its forward phaser arrays to bear on the Tal Shiar ship. But it was too late. By the time the ship had turned, the attacker was within disruptor range of the Arromanches. The Shelley-class vessel was recovering the damaged Peregrine-class fighter from Red Flight, and had dropped its shields in front of the bay doors. The Romulan commander saw his chance and took it. He fired at Ensign Tyne's fighter, sending the craft careening into the shuttlebay at high speed. ''This is Red Leader, I'm hit! I've lost control! I...'' The last thing Ensign James Tyne saw was the rear wall of the Arromanches' shuttlebay coming rushing up to meet him. AR-05 slammed into the wall at tremendous speed. It exploded, destroying several craft in the shuttlebay and tearing a hole five decks high into the Arromanches. On the bridge, Captain Hayes was trying to keep calm as the ship pitched and rolled from the impact of the fighter crash. ''Get us the hell out of here!'' she yelled to her conn officer. ''All engines are offline, Captain!'' shouted the helmsman. There was nothing they could do now but wait. The Tal Shiar ship moved in for the kill. Suddenly, a hail of green disruptor fire hit the attacking ship, blowing it to shreds. An unsual, but recognizably Romulan ship flew through the fireball. The Kursk jolted again. Ensign Sanchez was trying desperately to dodge the incessant disruptor fire from the pursuing Romulan ship. Aft shields were buckling and most of the phaser arrays were down. Romanov was about to give the order to divert power from life support when Lieutenant Mordock shouted, ''Captain, another Romulan ship has decloaked near the Arromanches!'' Dimitri was shocked. Tal Shiar reinforcments? ''Sir,'' said Mordock. ''It's Imperial Military!'' His voice lifted as he said the words. The newcomer locked on to the vessel that was harrying the Kursk and opened fire. The Tal Shiar ship took heavy fire before breaking off. The other two remaining Tal Shiar vessels also broke off. They entered warp and were gone in a second. On the bridges of the Kursk, the Saratoga and the Arromanches, the crews stood in the smoke and watched in amazement. * * * ''I am Commander Nalora, of the Imperial Romulan Warship Ostberg.'' ''Greetings, commander. I am Admiral Nechayev, commander of Task Force 12.'' ''I know about your task force,'' said Nalora. ''I was reassigned to this ship only yesterday. My mission is to rendezvous with you, and accompany you into Rajelliak space. And, I suppose, make sure the Tal Shiar don't stop you.'' ''Well then, you have our gratitude. We had no idea the Tal Shiar were so heavily armed.'' ''Not many people do,'' remarked Nalora, ''And those that do are starting to worry. People say the Tal Shiar are getting too powerful, that within a few months, they'll be ruling the Empire. I disagreed before, but after the attack on the Praetor, I'm not so sure.'' ''We are not here to involve ourselves in Romulus' internal disputes,'' Nechayev said bluntly, ''Our orders are to investigate the threat posed by the Rajelliak.'' ''And I am here to help you carry out those orders, Admiral.'' ''If you're out to help us, we could use a hand repairing our ships. Our shuttle carrier suffered severe damage in the battle with the Tal Shiar.'' ''There is a repair facility two sectors from here. I'm sure I could convince the portmaster to let your ships dock.'' ''That is a most gracious offer, Commander. I'm glad we were able to begin our co-operation in this manner.'' ''Very well, Admiral. Have your ships follow my vessel. Ostberg out.'' ''Agreeable, isn't she?'' remarked Nechayev to the conn officer. ''A little <i>too</i> agreeable, perhaps, Admiral?'' Nechayev said nothing. * * * ''We lost four Peregrine-class fighters in combat. We lost AR-05 when it crashed, and another Peregrine and a runabout were destroyed in the impact. The ship has suffered severe internal damage, and most systems in the drive section are running on emergency power only. My chief engineer says he can give me warp four, no more.'' Captain Hayes finished her grim recital and looked out the window at her crippled ship. Most of the drive section was covered with Romulan engineering scaffold. Inside the ship, Romulan and Starfleet engineers were working non-stop to get the ship operational as soon as possible. Despite all their efforts, repair estimates for the Arromanches were still being measured in weeks. Nechayev, Scott and Romanov were in the room with her. Task Force 12 had been berthed at the Romulan drydock Aerv for three days now. Repairs to the Saratoga and Kursk, and Curie were almost complete. Task Force 12 had to depart, and soon. Latest reports from the front lines were not good. Romulan forces were suffering heavy losses, and the Rajelliak fleet could break through at any time. If Task Force 12 did not head in now, they might never get in. Considering all these factors, Admiral Nechayev made her decision and walked over to Captain Hayes. ''I'm sorry, Catherine,'' she said, ''But the mission must go ahead. The Arromanches will have to remain here, while the other vessels enter Rajelliak space. There's no other option.'' Captain Hayes swallowed hard and said, ''Understood, sir.'' She walked out of the room and headed back to her ship. * * * Sublieutenant Setal looked around him for the tenth time. The Starfleet crewman was still at the end of the corridor, talking to the senior Romulan engineer. At last, the Starfleet officer shook the Romulan's hand and walked away. The Romulan engineer headed off in the opposite direction a few seconds later. Setal immediately reached into his pocket and took out the small device. A red light on the case blipped at regular intervals, and he could just about hear a faint buzzing noise. Other than that, it was a fairly unremarkable little box. Setal opened the service hatch to the equipment bay for the Curie's cloaking device. He stepped inside. He could only just about fit among the glowing conduits and humming generators. He placed the device exactly where the Tal Shiar officer had told him. At that moment, Setal froze. Two Starfleet crewmen walked past the hatch. They didn't notice him inside, and Setal relaxed again. He got out of the service hatch and off the ship as quickly as possible. He hoped the Tal Shiar reward would be as good as they had promised. Keeping promises was not one of their strong suits. Setal entered his quarters, to be greeted by a disruptor blast set to kill. * * * ''Alright, Commander, let's try out that cloaking device of yours,'' said Captain Romanov enthusiastically. ''Aye, sir,'' said Commander Ford, ''Cloaking device is prepped and ready,'' He had been waiting for this moment since the mission began. Admiral Nechayev spoke from the Curie, ''All ships report ready. Engage cloaking devices.'' Task Force 12, along with the Ostberg shimmered and disappeared. They entered warp, leaving the Arromanches far behind as they headed for the front lines. * * * The bridge of the Kursk was silent, except for the occasional chirp from the computer systems. The ship was rigged for silent running, and the bridge was darkened to allow maximum power to be diverted to the cloaking device. The Red Alert bars cut through the gloom at regular intervals. Romanov and his crew found themselves doing what they seemed to be doing most since the mission began - waiting. It was a welcome relief, then, when Mordock's console bleeped to indicate an incoming transmission. ''We're recieving a distress call. All subspace frequencies,'' said the Benzite. Dimitri frowned. They were under strict orders not to drop cloak once they had gotten close to the battle area. Romanov had no intention of violating that order, but he was still curious. ''Let's hear it,'' he said. A choppy transmission filled the room, ''...omulan....arbird...attacked...dama...we...send....'' the message burst into total static, then cut out entirely. ''Sir,'' said Mordock, ''We're within visual range of the source of the transmission.'' ''On screen,'' ordered the captain. The viewscreen flickered and showed a Romulan warbird, dead in space. The warbird's port nacelle had either blown up or been torn off. There were deep gashes in the side of the fore hull, showing exposed decks inside. Plasma was leaking from several holes in the hull, leaving a colourful trail behind the fatally damaged warbird as it drifted through space. The crew sat in silence for several moments, wishing they could help but knowing that to do so would jeapordize their mission. A sudden explosion made Dimitri jump with shock. He turned to the tactical position. ''My God, sir,'' said Commander Ford, ''It's the Curie! Her cloaked has dropped, she's under attack!'' ''By whom?'' ''The Rajelliak, sir.'' * * * ''Shields, Lieutenant, shields!'' ''They're gone, Admiral!'' said the tactical officer in an urgent tone. The ship was hit again. The helm console exploded, throwing the helmsman to the floor. Admiral Nechayev sat down in his place. She shielded her eyes as a plasma conduit blew up at the rear of the bridge. The tactical officer was killed instantly. Nechayev looked around at the blazing ruins that, five minutes ago had been the bridge of the Starship Curie. She looked back down at the helm console in horror. The attacking ship was headed straight for her. For the first time in her Starfleet career, Admiral Alynna Nechayev panicked. Captain Philip Scott was not a happy man. He was watching the fleet's flagship being torn apart by enemy fire, and was helpless to do anything about it. The Saratoga, the Kursk and the Ostberg were holding station twenty kilometers from the Curie. Scott was racking his brains, trying to work out how the Rajelliak had been able to see through the Curie's cloak. He thought back to the mainteneance checks they had run at Starbase 173 and at Drydock Aerv. It hit him suddenly. The Aerv. A Romulan station. The Tal Shiar. Sabotage. Lieutenant Kyoto brought him out of his thoughts. ''Sir,'' she said, ''The Rajelliak vessel has turned around. They're making a direct run for the Curie!'' Time seemed to slow down for a few seconds. The Curie attempted a limping turn to port, but it was much too slow. The dark red Rajelliak ship revealed just why its tapering nose was covered with thick duranium plating. The effect was like an iron mallet going through a wooden fence. The Curie was shattered into a million pieces as the enormous Rajelliak ship ploughed straight through it, scattering shards of debris in all directions. The attacker waited until it cleared the debris field before disappering into warp. Only Commander Nalora noticed it was heading into Romulan space. The Starfleet crews observed a shocked silence for exactly sixteen seconds. ''Holy shit!'' said Edwards at last. * * * ''Are you suggesting we continue with the mission?'' said Scott increduosly. ''Why the hell not?!'' said Romanov. ''Because we just lost most of our supplies, our commanding officer and all our first contact specialists, that's why!'' ''I still don't see why that should stop us.'' ''I agree with Captain Romanov,'' said Nalora, ''The three remaining ships are functioning at peak efficiency, and there has been no sign of Rajelliak activity here for several hours. That situation may change, however. We have to move, now.'' ''This would be a lot easier if we could contact Starfleet Command,'' said Scott. ''Well, we can't. We'd all like someone to make decisions for us, Philip, but that's not possible right now. We should do our best to carry out our orders.'' Captain Scott was silent for a moment. ''Very well,'' he said at last, ''We'll continue.'' ''Glad to hear it. We'll leave immediately.'' * * * ''We're approaching the Rajelliak frontier, Commander.'' ''Thank you, Lieutenant,'' said Commander Nalora. She turned to her communications officer. ''Open a channel to the Starfleet vessels.'' After a second, she spoke again. ''Ostberg to Saratoga and Kursk. We have reached the Rajelliak border. Small patrol vessels pass here every two hours or so. Rajelliak vessels have never shown an ability to see through our cloaks, with the exception of your flagship. We should be able to slip past unnoticed.'' Commander Wilde walked on to the bridge of the Kursk. ''We've double-checked all the equipment bays for the cloak. We found no evidence of sabotage.'' ''Good,'' said Dimitri. ''Have they performed the same checks on the Saratoga?'' ''Yes sir. Commander Edwards contacted me a few minutes ago. They're clean.'' ''Then we're ready to depart. Helm, what is the closest Rajelliak ship?'' ''There's two large cruisers at bearing 025 mark 089. Range, five million kilometers,'' said Ensign Sanchez. ''Follow them,'' said Romanov, ''But keep us at least 250,000 kilometers from them at all times. We don't want to take any chances.'' He turned to Wilde, ''They've got to stop at a base of some kind sooner or later,'' he said. ''True. I just hope it's an important one,'' said the first officer. Once Romanov had explained his plan to Scott and Nalora, the two Federation and one Romulan ship turned to chase the departing Rajelliak ships. * * * <i>Captain's Log, Stardate 59773.5 Task Force 12 has been shadowing the two Rajelliak cruisers for five days now. They have not shown any ability to penetrate our cloaks. They have rendezvoused with several other ships since we began pursuing them. They continue to lead us deeper into Rajelliak space.</i> Captain Philip Scott cast out his fishing line into the rough seas below the pier. The rain was coming down heavier now. He hoped he could get at least one catch before the day was out. He got a bite almost immediately, and had just about reeled it in when his combadge chirped. Scott reached under his raincoat and tapped it. As he did so, the line went limp. It had gotten away. Oh, well maybe next time. ''Captain, this is Edwards. The Rajelliak cruisers are approaching a large class-L planet. Our sensors have detected several orbital facilities around it.'' ''On my way,'' said Scott. He laid down his fishing rod and instructed the computer to end the program. The stormy winter's day in his home town of Halifax, Nova Scotia was replaced with the stark grid lines of the holodeck. * * * Captain Scott stepped onto the bridge, water dripping on to the carpet from his soaked rain mack. ''One moment, Commander,'' he said to Edwards. He walked to the ready room doors at the front of the bridge. He threw his mack over the back of the chair, and went over to the replicator. ''Hot chocolate,'' he said. Scott picked up the steaming mug and walked back onto the bridge. ''Put the Rajelliak on screen.'' The glowing engines at the back of the two cruisers filled the screen. Scott could see the large, light brown planet they were headed for in the background. ''Lieutenant,'' he said to Kyoto, ''Is there any way that proximity to the atmosphere of that planet could affect our cloaks?'' ''Checking,'' said the young Japanese woman, ''Negative sir. We should be fine in standard orbit.'' ''Well then,'' said Scott, turning to Ensign Satar, ''Take us into standard orbit.'' ''Aye, sir.'' * * * On the bridge of the Ostberg, Commander Nalora was thinking hard. Here they were, a stone's throw from what was obviously an important spacedock and trading centre. The Rajelliak had no idea they were here. They could decloak and destroy the orbital stations with ease. She decided to halt that particular train of thought. They were not here to attack the Rajelliak. Besides, in the long run, such an attack would probably be insignificant. Task Force 12 would be wiped out, the Rajelliak would continue to invade the Empire. It would be meaningless. The temptation remained, however. She had lost a lot of good people on the Mokal, and was eager to avenge their deaths. She tried to convince herself that this was the best way. Analyze the enemy, find their weaknesses, and then exploit them. That was the part that Nalora was looking forward to, but she feared that she could be a long time waiting for it. Her communications officer spoke. ''Commander, the Kursk is hailing.'' ''On screen.'' The bearded face of Captain Romanov appeared on the Ostberg's viewscreen. ''Commander,'' he began, ''We have analyzed the defences of the orbital stations. It is unlikely we could beam on board without being noticed. However, an away team could travel to the planet's surface. We have detected a large city on the coast of the largest ocean on the planet. The Saratoga is ready to transport a team of Marines with personal cloaking devices down.'' ''Very well,'' said Nalora, ''We will send a contingent of troops. What are the coordinates?'' ''I'll transmit them now. We're going to beam down into what looks like the main roadway through the city.'' ''Understood. Ostberg out.'' * * * Lieutenant Michelle Fletcher strapped on her backpack and picked up the agressive-looking phaser rifle from the wardroom table. She was beginning to wonder why she had volunteered for a temporary transfer to the Saratoga's complement of Marines after the Arromanches had been forced to stay behind. The senior Marine handed her the thick black belt that was her personal cloak. She strapped it on and powered up her phaser. ''Ready, sir,'' she said. ''Report to transporter room two. You're with Alpha Squad, under Lieutenant Commander Hart.'' ''Understood, sir,'' said Fletcher, and left the room. * * * Alpha Squad materialized in a shadowed alleyway. The first thing Lt. Commander Hart did was step in a puddle of what he hoped was water. ''Damn,'' he said under his breath. He shook his boot and whispered to the four Marines with him. ''Activate cloaks.'' Each member of the squad tapped the control on their belts. They shimmered out of visibilty. Since their cloaks were operating at identical frequencies, they could still see each other. Hart motioned to the main street up ahead. ''Let's move in,'' he whispered in his thick English accent The team emerged in a wide bustling street. It was a curious mix of old and new. The buildings and roadway looked fairly modern, but there were wooden stalls and other makeshift constructions at the edge of the road. Beings of several different species were talking, laughing and doing business. One race, however, was predominant. The Rajelliak. They were all of medium build, but their height varied. They had slightly wrinkled red skin and dark brown eyes. No visible nose or ears graced their round heads. Some were dressed in light gray military uniforms, and were carrying weapons. Others were dressed in civilan attire. Across the street, Hart could see the Romulan away team making their way towards them. A strange six-legged form of livestock blocked them for a few seconds, but Hart caught sight of them again. ''Lieutenant Commander Hart?'' asked the Romulan in charge. ''That's me,'' said Hart. ''I am Subcommander Gerel. Have you found anything of interest yet?'' ''I'm afraid not. We appear to have beamed down in a public area. I don't see any evidence of a miltary base, apart from the occasional Rajelliak officer.'' At that moment, a shuttecraft emerged from a large building several hundred metres down the street. It looked like a miniature version of the ship that had rammed the Curie. It headed skyward. ''I think we just found our evidence, sir,'' said Fletcher. * * * Captain Scott paced around the bridge of the Saratoga, hoping something would happen. He hated all this waiting. ''Captain,'' said Commander Edwards, ''I'm receiving a coded transmission from Alpha Squad. They have located what appears to be a military base, and are closing in.'' ''Very well. Continue monitoring them.'' * * * Michelle Fletcher had never used a personal cloaking device in the field before. Hart had told her it would take a little getting used to, and he was right. People completely ignoring you when your senses told you that they could see you was a disconcerting experience. Alpha Squad and the Romulans moved down the street towards the building they had seen the shuttlecraft launch from. It was hard to keep track of each other in a crowded market place, and Hart was praying that they wouldn't lose anybody. Thankfully, they were all still together five minutes later when they reached the building. Like every other structure on the street, it was dark red. The Rajelliak seemed to have a fixation with their own skin colour. It had three floors, each one slightly smaller than the one below it. There were no visible windows. Hart took note of some indecipherable script on the front wall with his tricorder. Hopefully, they'd be able to translate it upon returning to the ship. Hart motioned towards the main door. The four Starfleet Marines and six Romulans jogged up the steps and through the square-shaped main doorway. Inside the building, a narrow gangway ran around the walls. The gangway surrounded a deep shaft in the centre of the room. The shaft continued upwards to the top of the building, and downwards several levels into the ground. Hart theorized that this was where the shuttlecraft had come from. He called Subcommander Gerel over to him. ''This must be a transit station of some kind,'' he said. ''I concur,'' said Gerel, ''I believe our next course of action should be to board a craft leaving here. It is reasonable to assume they go to the spaceports.'' At that moment, alert klaxons sounded. ''What the hell?'' said Hart. Daylight streamed in to the room as a door at the top of the shaft opened. Everyone could make a pretty good guess at what was going to happen next. A deafening roar filled the building as a vessel of some kind passed through the launch shaft. After it had gone, silence returned the complex. ''The departure station is obviously down there somewhere,'' said Hart, indicating to the shaft, ''The question is, how do we get down?'' As he said this, two Rajelliak in military uniforms entered the building. They walked straight past Hart. ''Fletcher, Wu, you're with me,'' he whispered, ''Davis and Andrews, head back into the town and gather as much information about the place as you can. Beam back to the Saratoga in thirty minutes.'' Hart motioned for Fletcher and Wu to follow the two Rajelliak. Gerel signalled one of his team to join him. The other Romulans left the building with Davis and Andrews. The two Rajelliak walked to the far side of the room. They stopped in front of what appeared to be a solid wall. One of them took a small device out of his uniform and pointed it at the wall. A rectangular section shimmered to reveal a small compartment, into which the Rajelliak walked. Hart, Gerel and their teams followed them. After several seconds, a lurch confirmed visual evidence that they were in a lift. It plummeted at high speed for an exceedingly long time before another jolt signalled their arrival. They walked out into a freezing cold cave. Lt. Commander Hart looked slowly around the area. The cavern tapered until it reached the top, where a square hole, which was obviously the launching shaft, could be seen. ''Sir,'' said Ensign Jung Wu, ''We're over two kilometers underground!'' His tone was one of astonishment. In the centre of the cavern, a tall, cylindrical ship stood on a high platform. Beneath the platform, a complex array of machinery which looked vaguely like a set of impulse driver coils could be seen. The Rajelliak officers, meanwhile, were ascending a ladder to the top of the launching platform. The Marines and the Romulans followed them in short order. ''Commander,'' gasped Fletcher as she climbed the ladder, ''According to my readings, this machinery is some kind of magnetic propulsion system. The ship has no engines as such. It's propelled in one direction or another by magnetic fields, which are generated by these coils.'' ''That could explain why this place is so far underground,'' observed Wu. ''Why?'' asked Fletcher over her shoulder. ''Imagine the havoc magnetic fields of this strength would cause if they were on the surface. Metal objects would be sent flying all over the place every time a ship launched.'' ''This is all very fascinating, but I believe our ship is leaving,'' interjected Gerel. The team made their way into a hatch near the base of the craft which the two Rajelliak officers had entered seconds before. Inside, there were ten rows of seats along the walls. The seats were vertically arranged in relation to where the officers were standing. A ladder had been placed in the aisle, presumably to facilitate access to the seats when the ship was in launching position. Quickly and quietly, the team sat back into seats near the rear of the craft. There were restraints provided, but common sense told them not to put them on. The Rajelliak would certaintly be suspicious if they saw belts restraining people that weren't there. They were just going to have to hang on. The moment the ship took off, Hart and the others realized that the seatbelts were only for use on the way down. They were thrust back into the seats by high g-forces. Fletcher tried to keep her eye on a viewport. She could see the rock outside flashing past. For a fraction of a second, the ground-level departure station could be seen through the window. Then they began climbing high into the atmosphere, and only dusty brown clouds could be seen. * * * ''Another vessel is emerging from the planet's atmosphere, sir.'' ''Another shuttle?'' asked Scott. ''No sir, it's larger. Looks kinda like an old rocket-engined craft. Thing is, I'm not detecting any engines on it. It apperars to be moving by momentum alone,'' said Commander Edwards. Momentum which is coming from where?, thought Captain Scott. ''Sir, I'm receiving a transmission form Alpha Squad. They've split up. Hart, Fletcher and Wu have entered a building which they believe is a transit station of some kind. They and some Romulans went in to have a closer look, and the rest of Alpha are gathering what information they can on the surface. They're going to beam back in fifteen minutes.'' Scott thought for a minute. ''Bob,'' he said, ''What coordinates did that ship come from?'' ''Checking,'' replied Edwards, ''The ship was launched from the exact coordinates of the transit station. As a matter of fact, sir, I'd be willing to bet our guys are on it.'' * * * The Rajelliak ship docked with another jolt. Hart rubbed his forehead as he stood up. The two Rajelliak emerged from the forward section of the craft, and headed for the exit. Their followers were not far behind. Walking on to the Rajelliak station, the first thing that caught Hart's attention was the lack of light. A piece of machinery or a computer display was lit up here and there, but it was otherwise dark. The officers the team had been shadowing moved off into the darkness. Hart decided it wasn't worth following them. They could hardly see where they were going, let alone keep track of someone. Subcommander Gerel tapped his arm. Hart jumped with fright. He hadn't realized he was so tense. ''What do you think our next course of acton should be?'' he asked. ''At this stage, we'll have to stick to passive observation. We want to learn as much about the Rajelliak before we make contact with them.'' ''Agreed.'' Staying together, the team moved off into the darkness. * * * ''Not quite as challenging as I'd hoped.'' ''What was that, Ensign?'' ''Well sir,'' said Wu. ''I figured this station would be a veritable maze. I've always enjoyed finding my way around strange places. This place is very standardized. We've seen the same basic pattern repeated every few square meters. It's sorta like the Borg, don't you think? No distinctive functional areas.'' ''Ensign, the Borg don't influence people. They assimilate them,'' said Hart. ''Of course, sir,'' said Wu. He went back to his tricorder scans. Hart thought about what the young ensign had said. It was true that the station had a standardized design, but it was more than that. There did not appear to be any ranks within the Rajelliak military. As the walked about the station, they had seen countless officers go about their duties, but none seemed to be superior to the others. There was no command centre. All the duty stations they had passed were identical. He thought back to the surface of the planet. There were no religious structures or ceremonial grounds. There didn't seem to be any particulary rich or poor people. All the buildings looked similar. It suddenly came upon him. <i>A classless society</i>. These people are the ultimate Communists. That political system had been abandoned hundreds of years ago on Earth, but for many years after, some people had still said it could work. After World War III, a group had even tried to set up a Communist government in a part of Australia. They never succeeded, but at their height, they had several thousand supporters. Hart shivered at the thought. He had always believed strongly in the Federation's ideals of liberty and free speech. He liked to think of himself as one who stood out in a crowd. Communist values did not appeal to him. He had been unsure about these Rajelliak from the beginning, but now he had a positive dislike of them. * * * ''Get them out of there. We may only have a few minutes.'' ''Understood. Energizing.'' There was a short pause as the transporter chief beamed the team off the planet-bound Rajelliak transport. ''Got them, Captain. No sign that the transprter beam was detected.'' ''Good work. Tell them to report to the Marine's wardroom for a debrief.'' ''Aye, captain.'' * * * ''I'll put it simply, captain. They're socialists in the strictest sense of the word. Every member of the Rajelliak race is not only conisdered equal, they probably all are more or less equal.'' Scott paused to consider this. An entire race, working for itself. No leadership to consult with, no domestic problems to worry about. No chain of command to respect. Each one had only one goal. The betterment and continuing existence of the Rajelliak people. It was a frightening thought. These people probably had very little in the way of morals. They had shown that when they had mercilessly destroyed the Curie. However, one piece of the puzzle did not seem to fit. Why, twenty years ago, had one of their ships attacked the Romulan science ship that had tried to make contact with them? Surely, it was not beneficial to the Rajelliak to enter a prolonged war. With this question floating in his mind, Scott left the briefing room. He took the nearest turbolift to the bridge. He acknowledged the senior officers and walked to his ready room. ''Computer, open a channel to Captain Romanov on the Kursk.'' The computer complied, and in a few seconds, Dimitri's face appeared on the screen. ''Dimitri,'' began Scott. ''You wanted to speak with me?'' ''Yes,'' said Romanov, ''I've read Alpha Squad's report, and I was thinking how this makes things a lot easier for us.'' ''Explain,'' said Philip, curious. ''Well, if these guys have no government or hierarchy, it should make first contact a lot simpler. Once we've met one, we've met them all, so to speak.'' ''You've got a point there.'' ''I hope so. My tactical officer has been analyzing Rajelliak ship movements in the area. It appears there is a busy shipping lane several light-years from this outpost.'' ''Sounds promising. When shall we depart?'' ''No time like the present. We've gathered all the information we're going to get here.'' ''Agreed. Saratoga out.'' * * * The Kursk, the Saratoga and the Ostberg turned away from the outpost and entered warp, travelling deeper into Rajelliak territory.