Star Trek: Defiant

Pilot Episode 7A

Written by Barak ir-Chaziz tr'Saar

A green flash, and Barak saw no more.

He awoke in a dank room, obviously a prison cell of some sort. The light was dim, provided only by the glowing edges of the force-field projector set in the rock. // The cloak! // thought Barak. Patting his garments, he found that his pockets, including the concealed one in which the plans were stored, had been emptied of their contents.

// I -must- get back the plans for the new cloaking device,// decided the Romulan, // or my dreams of Reunification will be achieved not through reconciliation but through the conquest of the Federation. // Barak was an officer of the Praetor's Fleet, an engineer specializing in cloaking devices. At 21, he was young for any Vulcanoid race, but already he had become a sub-Lieutenant in the Fleet...and a member of the Reunification. Now someone had obviously learned not only of his involvement with Ambassador Spock's movement, but of the new "TriCloak" he had designed for it's use.

To aid the Reunification, many high ranking Romulans had defected to the Federation. However, the trip was prohibitively dangerous, with a survival rate well below 50%. What the movement needed was a way to cross the neutral zone undetected by even the huge tachyon detection grids and other planetoid-based sensors, to which a cloak hid about as much as did a piece of plastic-wrap. Barak had a solution; he had combined 3 technologies that previously were discarded for combination use due to their tendency to "step on each other's toes" so to speak. The conventional cloak, which made a ship energy-transparent; the phasing cloak, which made a ship matter-transparent; and a third system to absorb the few types of energy that could penetrate a conventional cloak, and then to put them to use powering the ship, were all components of the TriCloak. It made for a very effective system, one which, if in the hands of the Senate and the Praetors, could be used to invade the Federation at will, with no risk of detection.

This system was in its final stage of development, and was ready for shipboard testing. Once certified as safe, it could be used to bring defectors and couriers across the Zone. Possibly even Barak himself, someday. But all that was gone; the Empire had the cloak, and the necessay weapons of invasion could be made ready in just a few short years.

There was but one way to stop the Empire. Barak had to escape, and make it to the Federation. Certainly, the blueprints could be implemented by anyone, but there were effects of the cloak that might be exploited to create a detection device... effects that could only be exploited by someone who knew everything there was to know about the cloak. There only was one such person, and that was Barak himself.

Barak knew the guards would come for him. It was inevitable, the interrogation, the--

"Psst! Barak! Stand Back. It's me, D'Tan."

D'Tan was a fellow member of the Movement, a few years younger than Barak. His parents had been killed during a massacre intended to wipe out the Movement 7 years before. "D'Tan. The plans have been stolen and--"

"The Federation must then have them as well as the Empire. Now stand back."

D'Tan did something out of Barak's sight, and a puff of acrid-smelling smoke rose from the force-field projector embedded in the rock. At the same time, the characteristic glow of the projectors ceased. Klaxons pierced the air as D'Tan handed his fellow Reunificationist a disruptor, set to stun.

A trio of guards approached, weapons at the ready, but lowered when they noticed D'Tan's uniform, stolen from a guard who was unfortunate enough to surprise him on the way in. The disruptor pistols came up again when they noticed the lack of manacles on their prisoner, and the disruptor in his hand. By then, however, both Barak and D'Tan were pressing the firing studs on their weapons, set to wide field. At this range, the two cones of energy could not fail to hit all three guards. Within minutes, the escapee and his savior were in the streets, blending in with thousands of other citizens, all with the same haircut, similar clothing, and no inkling whatsoever of the importance of the alarms that could be faintly heard above the hovercar traffic in the streets.

* * *

Barak entered Spock's quarters. They were spartan in decoration, but by no means bland. The combination of Vulcan meditation stone and Earth painting was striking, to say the least. As he waited for his presence to be acknowledged, Barak thought of the Meditation Stone, and how far he had yet to goo with his Vulcan Mental Training. Not that he wanted to abolishh emotion within himself, but control -was- useful.

"Barak," intoned Spock as he turned. "D'Tan has told me of what happened. What do you think should be done."

"The plans must reach the Federation. A sensor capable of penetrating my cloak must be designed. Otherwise, the Federation will be invaded as easily as the Praetor orders the 'suicide' of a Senator."

"And how should the plans reach the Federation?"

"To carry any credibility, they must be accompanied by a person. It must be someone familiar enough with the design to exploit even the least obvious of design flaws in order to build a detetion device."

"And you are the only such person. There is no time to teach another."


"I had thought you would. I have taken the liberty of arranging your transport across the Neutral Zone. Your chances of survival are better than average; I've arranged your transport with the best. Be at coordinates 305-2 by 107-9 at 1430 hours, today."

"I will. Live long and prosper, Spock." Barak extended his hand in the native greeting and farewell of his mentor.

Spock returned the gesture. "Peace and Long Life, Barak. And I believe the humans have a most appropriate saying: good luck."

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