USS POLARIS (USS HORIZON): assault on the Klingon camp

"They chopped off the top of that low, eroded hill with the ship's disruptors to make their base overlook the entire region," understood S'Tron as they climbed the easy incline of the rocky formation they were escalating. "This suggests that their sensors are too much affected by local disturbances to be reliable. They will therefore resort to more simple ways of securing themselves; but judging by the number of them presently at the Polaris wreckage and the accounted for vessels, that would leave barely a few technicians for the ship's repairs and a few guards for both ship and encampement."

The encampement they were nearing on top of the hill rested at the center of a four hundred meters featureless plateau. It was a blocky, squared compound of three rectangular plasteel constructions with a ship container surrounded by a wall of stone slabs extracted vertically around it to also create a moat about three meters deep, the thickness of the makeshift three meters high fence around it. There was no door blocking access to the compound itself but one guard stood at the entrance and another walked around on top of the thick walls.

"At best, there should be one other inside to serve their commander," Doctor Osaro-Lyth suggested. "They probably have all this surveillance because of our presence here, otherwise they should have felt pretty safe on this seemingly deserted planet lost in space. If we can go in quietly, their commander inside will probably not be on his guard."

"There is only one outside entrance I can see," S'tron added, "at a right angle from the compound entrance to deter direct assault. "These three constructions must be only connected from the inside, somewhat much like the architecture of their ship; command section at the end, weapons depot in the middle with officers berthings and crew living quarters and supply at the front. Since we haven't seen him with the scavengers, the commander is either there or on the ship; fifty-three percent chances for the former I would estimate with current available data."

"And one hundred meters all around of flat terrain between us and that stone wall," said the Deltan doctor. "Guess we should start by moving from the opposite of the guarded door while the patrolling sentry has moved to that same side."

"A logical approach," the Vulcan acknowledged.

But they knew the only real soldier among them was Aron'Son. 

"Clearly you have never assaulted a position with Jem'Hadar." Aron'Son stated. "Do any of you believe that you can hit the top guard from this distance? If so I will shroud myself and eliminate the door guard. When he goes down the shooter can then eliminate the top guard. Otherwise I will take both myself...they will not see me or hear me until it is too late." 

"Well don't look at me," the Deltan woman said with a smile, although her nervousness was plain to see. "I'm a doctor; I'm sworn to never cause harm."

"With a phaser rifle and at least four point seven seconds time to aim, I can stun the unmoving door sentinel with a ninety-five point three percent probability," S'tron assured him. "Then Doctor Osaro-Lyth can reach him to administer a sedative that will knock him out for as long as needed. But there is a fifty-three percent chance that the phaser shot will be heard within the compound and forty percent chance from the Bird of prey beyond it as well."

Aron'Son shook his head "Unacceptable. I will take the shortest distance to the door sentinel and incapacitate him. The rest of you will have to wait until the patrolling guard is on the opposite side of his route to move. The other option is that I alone enter the compound shrouded and incapacitate all resistance. Even Klingons are no match for a shrouded Jem'Hadar, and if there are as few as we believe they will not be able to stop me."  

"I will provide assistance," S'tron then proposed. "As a Vulcan, I have strength and senses that easily matches yours and techniques to render an opponent unconscious without any noisy struggle. But there is one thing i can attempt on the guard atop the wall; I can distract him with a hypnotic suggestion. Since he is in physical contact with the wall, I can reach his mind if I myself can make contact with the same wall."

"I can always shoot in the air to provide cover and distraction if all else fails and you need to retreat," the Deltan doctor then said. "I will not shoot at anyone, but these are more cautious Klingons than the norm; the noise of the rifle should deter them long enough to allow you to escape if things go sour. And I can stand watch outside in case others come near and risk discovering you."

"It is not an ideal plan..." Aron'Son mused clearly not the least  bit pleased with his options. "but it will have to do. In order to support Commander Redding, we must accomplish our mission."

His old squad would have taken these Klingons without so much as a sound if they had wished; but he was not there, he was here on this planet with these people.

The hulking Jem'Hadar then turned to S'tron.

"I am ready when you are." 

"You lead, Sir."

"Here's the Signal!" Osaro-Lyth confirmed as her combadge buzzed. "Redding's team is attacking!"

"Then we must move quickly." Aron'Son stated and with that he vanished from their sight.

It had taken Aron'Son some time to adjust his shroud to the trappings of Starfleet's uniforms, but he worked on the technique throughout his time at the Academy and with help from Doctor Bashir he was able to reliably conceal himself in the middle of the Academy courtyard for hours without being detected. So quickly crossing the distance between the Starfleet officers' concealed position and the guard took little effort. Aron'Son slowed as he approached the ancient Klingon and stalked his quarry carefully and then, without warning, he dropped his shroud and landed a viscious overhand blow to the back of the Klingon's head and the guard crumpled in front of him. He nodded in approval over the man's fallen form and then waited for the Vulcan to catch up to him.

When S'tron came up to him, he did not glance at the fallen guard but went immediately straight to the wall encircling the camp. He joined his hands together a moment, two fingers extended before his closed eyes. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, barely touching the rough texture of the barricade, he moved with imerceptible steps along it's vertical surface, eyes unblinking.

On top of the fence, steps could be heard approaching. then they stopped. A moment later, the same footsteps receded away with slightly more haste.

"He thinks he heard a disturbance at the opposite side of the compound. He's going to check it out, " the Vulcan explained to Aron'Son. "Once he will be sure it was nothing, he will restart his normal pacing from the other end as before. I estimate we have four point seven minutes before he discovers that his colleague is missing from his post."

The empty courtyard was the only thing now between  them and the entrance to the windowless, elongated Klingon camp where, at the other end in the last jointed structure would be the office of the commander.

"Then we should proceed, we must be through the courtyard before he realizes there is nothing there. I recommend we move at a rapid pace" 

Aron'Son knew that the Vulcan could keep up with him. He had studied the species of the Federation extensively and was well aware that S'tron's people were capable of speed, strength, and when needed stealth. So without bothering to check to see that S'Tron was with him Aron'Son moved quickly but also softly, if Jem'Hadar were capable of such a thing, into the courtyard. He used light steps to deaden the impact of his boots on the ground, stealth was a primary method of attack for Jem'Hadar soldiers especially when they were in small units. In all honesty Aron'Son would have given just about anything to have his old unit with him now. This assault was a perfect environment for the Dominion's shock troops, an unsuspecting enemy and a setting that would test their skill. 

As they approached the door to the commander's office Aron'Son slowed and turned to S'Tron.

"It is likely there are two of them inside. It may be necessary and efficient to simply stun them both."

S'tron agreed witn a nod.

"Klingons are efficient but not very imaginative. One will be on the left side of this entrance so as to better draw his sidearm from the right at an enemy's blind side. The other will be in the same position at the entrance at the other end but facing this access so that they can both catch a rushing ennemy in a crossfire... or run away to seal the hatch and warn the others beyond, as those old-type Klingons are prone to do."

"We cannot have one of them escaping. I should shroud myself again and take the far guard, the only other option is to fire quickly and hope we do not miss."

"If we fire, we will alert whoever might be further inside," S'tron pointed out. " There is a good probability that there might be an escape hatch further back. However, I can take care of the near guard quietly if you can do the same with the farthest one. Our odds would be better this way, Sir."

"Agreed," the Jem'Hadar replied "Give me one standard minute to get into position." 

With that Aron'Son's form seemed distort in waves, almost as if he was moving the air around him, and then he was gone. He moved into the building passing softly, silently, by the lone Klingon to his left. The Vulcan had been right, the Klingons were deployed exactly as S'tron had specified. The space between them was open, and Aron'Son could not see any other security measures in place. He closed the distance between himself and the far guard as quickly as he silently could. Once near the Klingon he studied his enemy, clearly these were not the Klingons of the present time. They lacked the physical presence, and distinguishing facial characteristics of the current Klingons. Aron'Son knew this was from some sort of genetic experimentation the species had done in the past, but he could not comprehend why anyone would undertake such a rash procedure. It was unfortunate for this Klingon as he would never have a change against his much stronger enemy. Aron'Son positioned himself behind the guard and waited for S'tron to make his move.

The Vulcan's approach could not have been more different from that of his superior officer. He simply strode boldly into the room, looking straight at the far away guard just as the one beside him jerked suddenly at his appearance. As he drew all their attention on him, the Jem'Hadar suddenly appeared as if by transporter besides the other guard; it reflexively drew the surprised eyes and unholstered old fashioned disruptor pistol of the one nearest to him. S'Tron's arm sneaked past his shoulders to his neck nerve bundle and squeezed with typical Vulcan strength while his mind shot a telepathic burst through his own fingertip endnerves.

The first guard collapsed like an unstringed puppet.

The other reacted swiftly and pointed his weapon at the Vulcan. then he fell to the floor under the strong hand of Aron'Son.

With a holding hand, S'Tron asked his superior officer to wait for him and went beside him to listen beyond the door.

"I hear onr person breathing on the other side and some scratching" he whispered; "I estimate that it is a stylus on a pad, like those used in the twenty-third century before the advent of the PADD."

They both had the same thought at the same time. Only one Klingon would bother with paperwork; the commander.

"I do not believe we require stealth any longer, he is the only Klingon left conscious in the facility. We will enter, weapons drawn, and he will surrender or ,more likely given that he is Klingon, he will try to fight and we will stun him. Either way the facility will be ours."

Aron'Son was confident in his assessment of the situation and drew his phaser from the holster on his hip preparing to burst through the door as soon as S'Tron was ready.

The Vulcan took out his phaser and set it on level 3, as Klingons were well known for their sturdiness. The one hour stun would only last fifteen minutes with one, while the fifteen minutes level 2 would barely last five and level one would have no effect at all. he nodded to Aron'Son and readied to open the door for him. Since he was Jem'Hadar, he was the better soldier and it was only logical to let him lead the charge.

They bursted into the office, weapon drawn. Behind a makeshift desk, the heavyset bearded human-looking Klingon wore a broad golden sash studded with emblems. At their appearance, he rose and brought his hand to his holstered disruptor pistol then froze. With two muzzles already pointed at him, he instantly knew he would never have time to draw it out.

A modern Klingon would have done it anyway, choosing to die in glorious combat. But these genetically human-based Klingons were less instinctual killers and more tought out ones; more assassins than soldiers, more bullies than warriors. They knew fear and treachery, both as weaknesses... and as tools.

His coarse voice rumbled with outrage.

"What is the meaning of this?"

If Aron'Son had been human he may have attempted to speak to the Klingon, or hesitated to fire without explanation but Aron'Son was not human. He was Jem'Hadar, and a soldier and so he did not hesitate, he fired. The heavy stun beam from his phaser struck the Klingon squarely in the chest and despite his size he crumpled to the floor. 

"We do not have much time, we need to contact Commander Redding, and either find a way to restrain him or be gone before he wakes up. Otherwise we may have to kill him." 

"With all due respect, Sir, you are not thinking logically," the Vulcan stated. "Starfleet regulations and general orders specifically prohibit the mistreatment, torturing or killing of prisonners, even in times of war; beyond these binding restrictions to our honor and service, such simplistic expendiency is counter productive; a dead prisonner gives no valuable information. Information is what we need most here, not tactical victory."

Before the Jem'Hadar could wonder about it, S'tron went to the comatose Klingon and brought his fingertips to his head. His eyes glazed over and for a moment, his breathing was in perfect synch with that of the fallen commander. After a few minutes, his eyes focused again, his breathing became deeper and he broke contact.

"We can use these power cables to restraint him to his chair, Sir. But you are right, we must contact Commander Redding as soon as possible. What we have here is much more than a simple hidden klingon outpost."

Before he could speak any further, the door bursted open and Doctor Osaro-Lyth bursted into the room.

"Damn combadges not working on this blasted lump of rock... We must hurry out; the rest of their forces are running back this way from the wreckage of the Polaris; about two dozen strong, all heavily armed. there was some fire exchange back there; I guess the rest of the crew managed to chase them off. But  they'll be back here in less than a few minutes."

Aron'Son stared hard at the doctor for a moment his mind going over his tactical options. Once again if he had a well trained squad he would say let the Klingons come, but he did not and there was nothing he could do about it. While the Vulcan was more than capable the doctor would not fire a shot which meant setting up an ambush was not a possibility.  

"Very well," he conceded  "we will retreat, we cannot take on an armed Klingon crew...even if they are ancient." 

Aron'Son started back for the door motioning for the other two to follow with his weapon directed in front of him, retreat was not something in his nature, but he had done many other things not in his nature since joining Starfleet. 

"I recommend we fall back to the Bird of Prey, Sir," S'tron said as they exited the small compound. "Regrouping with our other team with the only spacecraft still available would give us the best options."

Aron'Son nodded "A wise suggestion. We will do exactly that. I will take point. Doctor behind me, and Ensign S'Tron you will act as our rear guard. Doctor please use your tricorder to tell me which direction I need to go to both avoid our enemy and take us toward the ship"

"I'll do my best , Commander, but with all the interference on this planet, it's not that easy to distinguish an approaching Klingon lifesign with that of a bush flying at the speed of sound," the deltan woman grumbled. "Good thing is, the Klingons will not be able to spot us any better than we can spot them."

"Lower the resolution to filter out chronitons, Doctor," the Vulcan then suggested as they moved out of the compound.

"Chronitons? You mean..."

They were moving at a fast pace towards the silhouette of the landed Bird of Prey already recognizing the chief of security guarding the boarding ramp when S'Tron voiced her thought.

"Affirmative; like a stone thrown into a shallow pond,  this planet is bathed in ripples of time."

"I do not know much about time travel or chronitons but I know this is not good.." Aron'Son stated "we need to locate Commander Redding." 

He continued to lead the small group toward the Bird of Prey his head swiveling and the honed eyes of an experienced soldier watching for anything that looked remotely like a Klingon warrior from any century.