[San Francisco Transit Station - Starfleet Headquarters]
Rojac saw the shuttle lower in on a landing trajectory. He tapped his combadge to hail them, but was met only with static. He tried to wave them down, but the craft seemed unaware of his presence and settled down three-quarters of a kilometer north of his position. He started heading in that direction, weaving his way through the littany of smoldering debris and bodies. Then he saw the bolts of phaser fire erupting from the tail-end of the shuttle.
Instinct kicked in from his days of security training at the academy.
He ducked behind the nearest obstacle, a hover-car tossed on its side, and searched for his sidearm on his hip. Of course it wasn't there. It had been removed for the conference proceedings and the meeting with Vice Admiral Jefferson as a security precatution. H eunderstood why he was unarmed for those meetings, but still he cursed them all the same.
He peeked over the edge and saw men in Starfleet uniforms jump out of the shuttle and scan the debris-field with the tips of their rifles.
He counted six, and they advance in pairs into the debris as the shuttle took off into the sky once more. He didn't know who they were, but they needed to be stopped. He carefully watched the pair closest to them and drew up a trajectory in his mind of where they were headed. Then he plotted an intercept course that would minimize his visibilty to them. If his plan were to succeed he would need the element of surprise.
=/\=
Richard had been inside the remains of the transit station when the Starfleet people had arrived in the shuttles. He'd been glad to see them, that was, until they started executing survivors. He managed to sneak into what had been a security outpost point for the transit station, and found a weapons locker. He'd lost his helpers when the shooting had started, and wasn't pleased about that. Pulling out the hand phaser, and slipping it into his waistband, he grabbed the rifle.
=/\=
"Time check." The man in front said. He wore his blonde hair close-cropped in an old military style and an orange accent to his uniform.
"Three minutes and fifteen seconds." The human of african descent responded. "We should head to the rendezvous point."
"Just a second." The blonde man said. "I see a group of targets up ahead. We have time."
The second man grinned. "Lets go."
Blondie returned the grin and turned to head off. The second man started to follow, but his vision had suddenly gone blurry and his knees started to give out.
The dark-skinned human in the red collared uniform fell face first into the asphalt with a sickening crunch. Rojac dropped the car fender to the ground and jump rolled after the dropped phaser rifle, pulling it up to a bead on blondie and firing a quick three-shot burst into his back. He fell to the ground with a thud. Rojac quickly patted down both men and found no further means of identification. He pulled some wires from the control unit of one of the crashed automobiles and bound the hands and feet of the first man. The brutal swing from the car fender had only knocked the man unconscious; Rojac would come back for questioning.
After he was done with his work he tried to find his next targets, but instead he found a familiar figure approaching his position.
Richard was in a crouch as he made his way over to Rojac. "Good to see you alive, Captain." He said.
"Likewise General." Rojac replied, lowering his rifle. "Any idea what the hell just happened?" He asked. "I've been trying to get someone on the communicator, but something is blocking the transmissions."
"Educated guess here." Richard replied carefully. "But an explosive device was set off on the tarmac, which ignited the parked shuttles, causing a cascade effect of the warp cores exploding or the dilithium tanks. Either way, it took out the entire transit station. Then, presumably, the people behind this, decided to massacre the survivors and/or any rescuers."
"Close but not entirely right." Came the gravelly voice of Major Scott Walters from behind them probably startling both of them. Scott was a big guy but he could move extremely quietly when needed. "Since the late 2370's all major transit stations on Earth have been outfitted with additional sensors to detect explosives although it's not widely known. It's more likely they remote hacked or pre programmed the warp core to explode."
Rojac brought a hand to his beard and scratched. "Then whoever did this has an extensive knowledge of Starfleet systems." He glanced back to the unconscious form of the african Lieutenant in the red-collared uniform. "Which makes me think these saboteurs aren't impostors."
"We need to get in contact with Command." Rojac continued. "And we need to take down these terrorists." He looked across the rubble laden landscape and the pillars of acrid smoke that lowly snaked toward the bright blue sky. "General, you should stay out of danger as much as possible, as ranking officer. I think you should try to establish contact. Walters and I will take down the terrorists."
Richard narrowed his eyes at Rojac. "You're probably right, but I'll never admit to needing to hide behind your skirts." He said. "In any case, we need a plan of action. I'll try to regain communication with Starfleet, and co-ordinate the recovery and protection of the survivors." He said. "You two, I want you to hijack that shuttle that Blondie and muppet here were using, and go after our 'friends'. You're to maintain radio silence at all costs, unless the very survival of the Federation is at stake."
Rojac nodded. "Aye sir." He bent over and picked up blondie's rifle and tossed it to Walters. "Then we better get going." The Captain pointed to a small silvery glimmer in the sky, "Looks like the shuttle's back in-bound." He smirked. "Let's move."
[End Log]
Major General Richard Sharpe
Commanding Officer
First M.E.F., SSF First Taskforce
Captain Cropa Rojac
Commanding Officer
USS Chimera NCC 96899-C
Erassian Major Scott Walters
Executive Officer
USS Chimera NCC 96899-C
