Obsolescence

Posted on Sun 2nd Jun, 2024 @ 9:29pm by Commander Anslo Tol
Edited on on Thu 20th Jun, 2024 @ 1:14am

1,001 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose
Location: Oilooa XI- Former Romulan Territories

{Oilooa- Secure holding facility.}

-Start-

Anslo Tol was once Starfleet’s finest. Front line infantry, in line for promotions, doing well in every regard as a Tactical officer. This idea of what life could have been was a torture which never ended for the now outlawed man. As he imagined a life of duranium and filigreed air, the reality of grime and caked mud, lonely cold night and a constant fear of death was the hand on his shoulder to remind him of where he was.

Today, the young Trill lamented his fate, as he always did while attending to a task H’tek had given him. He was outside the the armory where a stockpile of black market goods was currently being sold. The fortified warehouse was the only structure in the vast wilderness, and was on a desolate plateau. He was delivering payment for a load, four cloaking devices from Romulan military salvage, one of them rumored to be a recent one out of a battle cruiser. The transfer pad in his pocket seemed heavier with the amount loaded onto it, enough for bribes, auctions, transfers. The warning had been clear though, he needed to make sure they were real, and if they were, nothing was to stop him from leaving with it.

The mad pirate had a fairly well armed and powerful ship, but the cloak was no good against Starfleet. The only way it remotely worked was to reduce signal like times of old and cut power. Nonetheless, there was a standing order to purchase any military grade Klingon or Romulan cloaking device in any market if it turned up. H’tek had expanded that into “any decent one.”

It made sense from a surface level until you realized they were all ancient. The reason they are sold is because they are useful for small vessels or cargo runners, but the penalty of being caught with black market tech within the Federation was steep. If H’tek was only buying them, where were they being kept, and what in the hell use were they to him?

The comm on his wrist beeped at him. His parcel had arrived. Anslo wasn’t with his ship though, and port control asked for him to receive it. Anslo knew better, peeping through a scope at the officers waiting outside the small shuttle.

He allowed a small moment of congratulations to himself. The cloak was the real deal, the other three were old but functioning, so today H’tek was getting good new. They set traps like this to catch small fish and work them into an asset, however, bribes worked as well as magic. One parcel sent to Anglo’s shuttle, carrying three cloaks nobody cared about, and a separate package waiting for him that nobody knew about.

The shuttle was lost, but he had taken off the last of his personal items and anything identifying when he left after arriving. His package had been in storage and transported unmarked to an orbital relay where it would be lost in transit to the depths of space. Anslo had a ride and the means to pick it up, never coming close to danger, clean, no deaths. Even after all this time his Starfleet code of Ethics hadn’t stopped reminding him constantly of what he should stand for.

It was a long walk to the small low orbit flyer he had used to sneak around so far. He decided to have the dreaded conversation now so at least he would have something to occupy the kilometers ahead. Pulling a palm sized clamshell device from his pocket, the channel opened immediately. Anslo knew that meant the old cuss was sitting at the table, likely drunk, waiting for this exact call.

“H’tek, I bring good news.”

His device issued a holographic recreation of the voice that spoke, an uncanny replica of H’tek’s vocal fry and deep sorrow came through. “You only bring me good news Anslo.”

Flattery was a form of manipulation Anslo had grown immune to. H’tek was a man who had no reasoning, and one in his orbit had to adjust course constantly.

“Sire, I have the Myriad cloak.” Anslo hoped it would allay further inquiry but H’tek pressed hard.

“Just that one? I expected four.”

“My lord, Myriad was under close scrutiny, i had to sacrifice the pawns to gain it.”

H’tek growled, the device in his hand even shook. “Shut up! I have plans and your job is to carry out my plans. Do not return without all of them in tow.”

The connection cut. Anslo stood and breathed for a moment, then hit the purple light to call the captain right back.

H’tek answered in a rage, “ANSLO!”

The Trill made his point quickly, “Sir, I won’t risk my life for this. The Suv’Wi is detectable by any of those three devices, we have to use low warp and cut all power for them to remotely work. Myriad worked for five vessels at a time, its new, it hasn’t been cracked by anyone yet. You have your prize, these obsolete pieces of ‘Chi-PaA are ancient-

H’tek spoke over the last few words, enraged already it was a small increase at best.

“You see defunct cloaking device, I see decoys and invisible torpedos, particle bombs which sow chaos, or traps to set.”

That stopped Anslo cold. He had forgotten how H’tek used anything he had in his arsenal to devastating effect. It had been so long since they had planned any sizable operation, years since he had seen the genius at play.

“Of course, I will do as you have bidden me.”

The line cut again, and Anslo didn’t even stop walking. He just made a slow circle back along his tracks, unlimbering the rifle loading it up. The rock didn’t stand a chance if it was Anslo between it and the hard place.

-END-

 

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