Strategy and Tactics

Posted on Fri 22nd Feb, 2019 @ 11:36am by

1,237 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Aerospace Wing Intel Center
Timeline: MD 1, 0900

Beatrice Cassidy looked into the holographic sphere that was slowly rotating in the air above the pedestal in the center of the room. "Federation space is colored blue," she explained to Captain Beck and Colonel Wellington, "Republican Romulan space lime green, Imperial forest green. Klingon space is red." Viewed from above, in a two-dimensional representation, the no-sophont's-space in between was vaguely triangular, which gave the region its nickname. In a three dimensional representation like this one, the shape was... blobby. "There are two hundred and fourteen star systems in there. Most are either unsettled, settled by pre-warp societies, or deliberately unaligned with any faction. There are three rough polities. First, The Affiliation of Outer Free Worlds, AKA 'Baker's Dozen.' They include the planet Direidi, which is home to the largest dilithium deposit found to date. The Dozen remain fiercely independent, and have mercantile deals with all three of the major powers.

"Then there're the Imperial Klingon States -- mercenary warlords who refuse to recognize any Klingon government since the Organian treaty as legitimate. In the past, they haven't been much of a concern, as most of their technology is also stuck in that era.

"Finally," Cassidy wrapped up, "the four worlds of the Orion Frontier Mercantile Association, or 'the Turnstile,' so-called because of the shape of their claimed space... and the fact that it's a revolving door between the major powers. The Turnstile is a useful fiction. Officially, they are independent of the Orion home rule, and are thus free to trade with parties interdicted by Federation law. Before the Star Empire fell into civil war, most of the Romulan ale in Federation space came through the Turnstile."

Beck nodded, watching the slow-spinning globe. "It's a different view of our old problems, isn't it? Have you gathered intel that shows one of these loosely organized groups has an agenda that involves pirates? And," she smiled wryly, "would your bet be on the Orions?"

Cassidy shook her head. "The best information we have is that this is spontaneous activity. The Orions are as inconvenienced as any other polity; the Turnstile is a major locus of trade between powers which officially don't trade with each other. Intelligence indicates that strikes against that trade is being impacted as much as any other. So we're left with the question: Where are the pirates getting resupplied, and who is purchasing the stolen cargoes so that the activity is profitable?"

The Major touched a control on her PADD. The image in the holofield changed to a display of eight ships. "This is analysis of the group which attacked USS Falcon. Three corvettes, five gunboats. The corvettes are all of Romulan manufacture -- which is unsurprising, given the relative numbers of corvettes manufactured by the major powers. These particular designs are over a century old; they don't have singularity plants, but are dilithium and antimatter driven. The gunboats... a Lyran design, one Klingon design, and three K'zin boats." She paused, pointing to one of the gunboats. "This particular design is over five hundred years old."

"So they're purchasing them cheap and adding modern weaponry," Wellington deduced. "We need to locate and capture one of these vessels and question the crew."

"They have to have a base somewhere, of one sort or another, but finding it ... purely luck if there's no intel to give us clues. I haven't heard of any neutral planet or -" she broke off, thinking. "Do you know if there's a starbase of some kind - maybe hundreds of years old, like the ships? Somewhere that anyone can go, as long as they behave themselves? That would make a convenient place for a group like this. That kind of business doesn't get talked about, because it's in everyone's best interest to keep it quiet."

"Not a starbase per se," Cassidy said, sounding thoughtful. "But... a drifter colony."

"A drifter colony? What's that? It sounds like something set adrift in space, but how would people ever find it?" a puzzled Rebecca asked.

"Basically it's a large gathering of ships, usually one or two drifter ships built out of wreckage surrounded by smaller, poorly run ships or tenders who supply the main vessels and they at various time will move from system to system. Ships are a coveted commodity and drifters will buy run-down ships and can get them working again. Major Cassidy's theory fits," Wellington agreed.

"Why haven't I ever heard rumors about a place like that?" Beck mused aloud. "It sounds like a haven for rats."

Cassidy made the thoughtful sound again. "It's as much urban legend as anything else. 'Oblivion,' the place you go when you have noplace left to go. There are some wild stories around it... that there are at least three class B war criminals in residence there. That they can laze the entire output of the sun they've been orbiting for the last thousand years. That the oldest hulls in the conglomerate may be over a million years old." She shrugged. "I haven't ever heard any hard data on the place -- where it is, who's in charge, nothing."

"Which is going to change," Wellington spoke. "Rebecca, I'm assigning your squadron for recon work. We know that they have frequent raids in routes Sierra and Bravo. My plan is for you to monitor these lanes in low power mode with a couple F-38s nearby as escort. Once the pirates hit, we'll wait until they leave the area and have the 38s follow suit hopefully back to their base undetected due to the 38s increased stealth capabilities and then relay those coordinates to back here and then we hit them hard and fast and end this pirate threat once and for all."

"Hang on a second, there, Colonel," Cassidy protested. She touched a control on her PADD, and pinprick lights popped up in the display. "These are the confirmed pirate hits we have reports of. The clusters you're talking about... that's a two-day flight at warp five. The Black Lightnings have a small replicator / recycler package, but that's intended for survivor situations. Two days in the flight deck of a fighter is hardship duty. And then to loiter, reconnoiter, and return?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but fighters are not the right tool for this job."

"Noooo, I agree, Major, but let's think about the Arrow. Colonel, you know it has enough room for a platoon of Marines in the back, and we do have basic survival ability for several days. So ... what about ... didn't we take some cloaking from somewhere recently? Could it be adapted to my Arrow?" Rebecca asked.

"It's already set up with the torpedo launcher config, and I think the cloaking tech could fit right in the science console. I think we could even track the pirates if we can catch them in action. It will be hard not to interfere with their work, but ... it's better to find where they hole up." She glanced at the Colonel. "Oh, I'm sorry. I ... I was getting carried away. I didn't mean to upstage your suggestion, Wellington, just saw how your idea could work with my Arrow."

Wellington nodded slowly. "No, I think you're on to something. Though I think cloaks get connected to the navigational deflectors, rather than... well, never mind. I'll pull some strings with the Port Captain, and we'll see what we can do about this."

 

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