Border Line for a While

Posted on Sun Jan 24th, 2021 @ 4:59am by Rear Admiral Greg Coulson

751 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Cheese
Location: USS Kilimanjaro
Timeline: 2430-08-30, 11:00

"Warning," the computer announced, "we are approaching the Romulan Neutral Zone."

"Tell me something I don't know," Rear Admiral Gregory Coulson mumbled as he typed on the Helm interface of the runabout USS Kilimanjaro. He looked carefully at the readouts on the screen, studying them as much as he could to look for the optimal point to enter Romulan space. This was the biggest gamble of his life. The Romulans were undoubtedly on patrol nearby and they were not going to take too kindly to his intruding on them. Hell, if they swept in and blew him out of the stars as soon as he passed through it wouldn't be all that surprising.

Adjusting the indicators slightly he looked at the sensor reports, "Computer, overlay last known location of Romulan Warbird Sonnus."

"Unable to comply," the vessel's computer informed. "Voiceprint not recognized."

"They've locked out my command codes haven't they," Coulson sat back in the heavily padded flight chair. "Computer, identify clearance of Rear Admiral Gregory Coulson."

The computer beeped, "Clearance codes for Rear Admiral Gregory Coulson have been rescinded by order of Fleet Admiral Luzol."

"At least she's consistent. Computer, access secure communications grid and open the following channel," he input a series of frequencies on the display console. Running through the sequence he set a second carrier wave and then a third before engaging all three. A discordant, earpiercing shriek came from the other end. It barely fazed the stalwart Admiral.

"Computer, identify authorization level of Rear Admiral Gregory Coulson," he moved to the Science console as he asked and took a seat.

"Rear Admiral Gregory Coulson currently holds Level 10 Clearance."

He smirked, "Computer, overlay last known location of Romulan Warbird Sonnus."

A series of trills and beeps echoed from the console as the last known location of the Valdore Class ship appeared on the screen. It wasn't far from here, most likely it could very well have reached the same point as the Kilimanjaro. He sighed and sat down at the console, "Computer, access secure datafiles. Project Incursion."

"Access granted," the computer said as the schematic appeared on the screen for the Federation designed holo-cloak. "Computer, execute modification to the main deflector to employ holographic masking."

"Warning: Completion of this task is in direct violation of the Treaty of Algeron. Such action can lead to discharge from Starfleet and potential criminal liability within both the Romulan Star Empire and the United Federation of Planets. Do you wish to proceed?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "I'm already wanted by Starfleet. Might as well get this out of the way then. Computer, execute override and begin modification."

"Modifications complete," the computer announced. "Holographic masking is available."

"Computer, access secure Federation Database at these coordinates," he typed on the workstation and identified Gateway Station.

"Connection established."

He started scrolling through the available choices, quickly coming across what he wanted. Not many knew this but Gateway Station - the successor to the storied Deep Space Nine - had been home to a classified Section 31 drydock. The database there had detailed information regarding the technical accomplishments of most of the vessels of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. It was all he needed. Tapping the name Lanora, the exterior of the runabout began to shimmer as the holographic system covered the hull. Instead of a Federation Runabout the Kilimanjaro was now very much appearing as a Romulan Courier.

Now it was time for the fun part.

Returning to the Helm, Greg sat in the chair and stared out the window for a moment. He had already pushed this too far and there was still further still to go. There was still time to turn around, to head back home and pretend this never happened. He knew that was impossible though. If Luzol had already locked out his codes then his time was up. Starfleet was on to him and he was a criminal, probably disavowed and declared a renegade lunatic by now. That left only one other option.

Accessing the flight controls he brought up the impulse engines and engaged them at a third of normal. The Federation Listening Posts had already detected him, he was certain of that, and the Romulans wouldn't be that much further along. He held down a control and the screen flashed a warning.

"Warning: The Neutral Zone Border has been breached. This violation of the Treaty of Algernon has been logged and will be transmitted to Starfleet Command."

"Good luck to them," he mumbled as he increased speed.

 

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