Task Force 72

For official fiction releases from Task Force 72

Diplomatic Overtures

USS K’Ehleyr; Mauo System, on the edge of the Romulan Border
Stardate 77611.6

On the edge of Federation space, just lightyears from the now-defunct Romulan Neutral Zone, the neutral Mauo system had become a hotbed of activity since the collapse of the Star Empire. The subsequent in fighting and factional disputes, not to mention the worlds either seceding from the Empire completely or seeking to ‘renegotiate’ their terms of membership, left the system on edge. 

The Federation sensor net detected several freighters and personnel transports on course for the system over a week ago, giving plenty of time for the USS K’Ehleyr, flagship of Task Force 72, to meet them in orbit of Mauo III to ascertain their purpose. It wasn’t a difficult mystery to solve: the convoy’s leader, a Reman by the name of Tomask, had quickly requested refugee status for his people.

Refugees. These poor people were fleeing for their lives. Some were fleeing the wrath of ruthless overlords or remnants of the Star Navy, while others were fleeing their friends and neighbors who had sold them out in the hopes of currying favor with the regime. Others were fleeing Romulan space to find a better life in the Federation because of the taste of freedom they had been shown whilst working with Starfleet personnel following the coup on Rator. Now, it was up to ships like the K’Ehleyr to help find homes for them in Federation space. Often, that meant dealing with some of the non-aligned worlds closest to the border.

For the USS K’Ehleyr’s commander, Captain Karrik, such negotiations were his bread and butter. Obtaining permission to settle refugees within Federation space should have been a simple task for such an experienced commanding officer. How wrong he had been to think that. But, after several days of tense negotiations, the Vulcan finally had something to report to Task Force 72 Command. Sat in front of the computer terminal in his ready room, the Vulcan waited, as stoic as ever, for a representative from the task force staff to ‘show up’.

He didn’t have long to wait as a short while later, the face of a Trill woman with long, flowing brunette hair appeared on the screen. 

“Captain Italia Ruas”—he cocked his head at the screen slightly—“it is agreeable to make your acquaintance.”

Smiling from across the lightyears, Captain Ruas nodded to the Vulcan. 

“Captain Karrik. Nice to meet you too,” she said. “I’ve been brought up to speed on your mission out there. Have you anything to report?” she enquired, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“I am able to report that negotiations between the refugee representatives and the officials from Mauo have concluded satisfactorily. Resettlement operations are due to commence later today at a site suitable to the conditions required for Reman physiology,” Karrik revealed, much to the Trill’s surprise, judging by her raised eyebrows.

“Incredible progress in such a short amount of time,” she said with a slow nod. “I’m intrigued, though. How did you get past the labor issue you indicated in earlier reports?”

Ah, yes. The stumbling block that had led to nearly three days of stalemate. In order to be allowed into Mauo society, which was crucial as the convoy lacked the life support capabilities or resources to reach any other worlds, the refugees would be required to carry out the jobs no one else in society wanted. In essence, they would be seen as a lower class, with restrictions on what they could do to earn a living. Thankfully, the Vulcan and his entourage had been able to convince the government representatives of the value of having these skilled labourers throughout Mauo society, not just in the fields and the factories. Construction, development, some even had a proclivity for the sciences or medicine. The representatives agreed, but only after six months of the original offer, if the Remans could prove to them they would be contributing members of society, and not a drain on already limited resources.

Captain Ruas nodded along as the Vulcan continued his report.

 “Although not what they originally desired, it is a stark improvement on living conditions aboard their transports, and allows the refugees to make a life for themselves,” he said, “and the government on Mauo have agreed to re-evaluate the relationship six months from now, with a view to further developments and allowing the Remans wider access to society.”

Ruas slowly let out a deep breath and a whistle with a tonal incline. It was a solution, the Trill felt, and whilst it was not a solution anyone had hoped for, it was a solution that allowed the Reman refugees off of their transports and to plant some roots in an environment suitable for their predisposition to light.

“In acceptance of the deal, I have agreed to recommend that a review of the planet’s membership petition take place at the Council’s earliest convenience,” the Vulcan added, “which I believe to have been a powerful motivator for breaking the deadlock.”

“Superb, Captain. Please commend your crew for a job well done. These initial negotiations were always going to be difficult, but you have acquitted yourselves well and the Remans now have a safe place to call home,” she nodded.

There was a pause as Ruas processed the situation on Mauo.

“With that out of the way, we have more pressing matters to attend to. Task Force 72 has been charged with making diplomatic overtures to the many independent factions that have emerged since the coup on Rator. We’re sending the K’Ehleyr, Horizon, Ulysses and several other assets, across the border and into the independent territories with such diplomatic missions in mind,” Ruas said. 

With that, she waved a PADD toward the screen to send additional information through the transmission.

“As always, K’Ehleyr stands ready,” the Vulcan confirmed with a tilt of his head. “Upon the completion of our role in the resettlement operations, you will receive my report. Once the rest of the task force arrives, K’Ehleyr will lead the way,” he added in his trademark monotone.

“I look forward to receiving your report, Captain,” Ruas smiled, nodding in acknowledgement. “I’ll be in touch with any further developments. Ruas out.”

Replacing the smiling face of the new task force executive officer, a static Starfleet logo and the words ‘Transmission Ended’ filled the Vulcan’s computer screen. Karrik had a lot to consider and research, not least about the independent factions that had already started to emerge from the aftermath of the Star Empire’s collapse.

Using his hands to push himself out of the chair, the captain tapped his commbadge. The hour was late, but conversation was required. 

“Karrik to Commander Romaes,” he spoke clearly, rounding his desk and preparing to depart the ready room. “Meet me on the bridge at your earliest convenience. Karrik out.”

It was time for Task Force 72 to put their diplomatic credentials to the test and lay the foundations for new relations with the peoples in these newly-independent territories. For the diplomats of TF72, such an endeavour was in their mandate, and like Karrik would fly the flag of peace from aboard the K’Ehleyr.

Task Force 72 Priority Mission Brief – Q3, 2400

The Romulan Star Empire has collapsed, fallen to nothing more than Rator and a smattering of worlds around it, with the region now referred to as the ‘Independent Romulan Factions’. These range from small collectives to the homes of warlords, some eking out their own existence, some vying for domination. Many are on or near the border with the Federation or their friends in the Romulan Republic.

Starships of TF72 have been charged with establishing diplomatic contact with these disparate border factions. Through tentative first communications, cautious negotiation on neutral ground, or welcome visits to these new governments, Starfleet seeks understanding and to build local relationships. A firm peace with the Romulan factions is ideal, but non-aggression is essential, and very little is known about any of these disparate new minor powers.

A Call for Help

Former Demilitarized Zone
January 2401

"No!" the older male from one of the outlying colonies shouted, slamming his clenched fist onto the table.  "We are not requesting the Federation's help." 

The meeting had been going on for almost three hours. Each of the present Federation colony representatives of the former demilitarized zone had voiced their concerns over the increasing attacks on their worlds, and they were no closer to a solution than when they first sat down. The mix of Cardassians, humans, and various alien races couldn't agree to much, save their desire to stop the True Way.

"Enough!" a younger man hissed back,  “Enough. How many supply shipments have you lost in the last month,  Ellyn?" 

"Four." came a weak and sheepish response, “Perhaps we can try to sit down and…talk.”

The room erupted once more at the mention of the word talk. Taking was all they had done, and talking had gotten them nowhere.  "Talking hasn't worked."  Patterson, one of the few humans in the room, yelled over the crowd.  "They don't trust us," he spoke, gesturing to the gathered representatives, “and very few here trust them. The Federation made this mess; the Federation can come and clean it up.”

"The Federation forgot about us long ago,  and good riddance.  We don't need them."  There was a collective mumble of agreement.  Many in the room still didn't trust the Federation, even if they were technically Federation citizens themself.  Thirty-plus years of mistrust wasn't going to end just because the Federation stepped in. 

Patterson continued, “We are getting nowhere and fast.  The True Way will keep attacking our freight runs and shipping lines until something is done. Clearly, no one here is capable of dealing with these terrorists.  We might not like it,  but we need help; help from someone the Way can't ignore.  Neither side trusts the Federation, so who better to bring both sides to the table?”

"A table they created!" a voice shouted from the back of the room.  The reply was met with cheers from several in the room.

Patterson looked around the room, “This is getting us nowhere.” he shook his head in disbelief.  “If you people don't have the guts to make the needed decisions, then I will.” He had enough of this back and forth.  Standing up, he pushed the table out of his way.  “If something isn't done soon, then the Union will respond, and no one here needs that.  This region of space has already seen too much, and force isn't going to help.  Like it or not, the Federation is our best option."  He could tell from the collection head nods around the room that several agreed.  

Even if those in the meeting didn't trust the Federation, their current responses only worsened the situation. They had to trust that the diplomatic arm of the Federation could find a way to end the True Way's reach in the section. Patterson took one last look around the room before turning his attention to the aide on his left.  “Send a message to the Federation; tell them we would like a meeting.” 

Diplomacy is Life

USS K’Ehleyr
7.2401

“The greeting area has been set for the arrival, and the diplomatic team is completing their final checks.”  Captain Karrik confirmed the stage was set.  He returned to speaking with his operations chief.

Captain Geronimo Fontana stood on the command bridge of the USS K’Ehleyr.  He was thankful to have Kerrik and his crew along for this mission.  While he had taken several crash courses in Diplomatic Operations when he landed in 72 as XO, he was still learning.  Kerrick’s attention to detail was legendary and a point of pride in the Task Force.  Diplomacy was a way of life, and the USS K’Ehleyr was often the opening act when it came to following up with the points and places in the operating theatre.

Captain O’Gallagher stepped through the doors and onto the bridge.  Geronimo turned and extended his hand to the new XO for Task Force 72, “Welcome aboard the USS K’Ehleyr.  Good to have you with us.”

O’Gallagher shook Captain Fontana’s hand and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Captain.” The new TFXO continued, “Let’s get to business immediately, shall we?”  

Fontana agreed and was quietly impressed with the man, straight to the point.  He led him to a conference room off the hallway to the bridge. He handed O’Gallagher a PADD,   “A former colony has been pushed and pressured by The True Way.  The history is complicated – they were originally a Cardassian Colony, but they broke free and joined with the Federation.  After a few years, they fell by the wayside of our attention, went on their own, and started interfacing with The True Way.”

”It’s a delicate matter, something the diplomatic attaché team should tread carefully at,” said O’Gallagher. After spending a few more minutes discussing the matter, they both realised the severity of the matter.

“It’s a delicate dance.  As easy as it looks on PADD, it’s a carefully choreographed dance.”  He admitted, “I’m still learning those later steps.  We’ve got an incredible diplomatic attache team…been spending a lot of time getting to know them. You’ll love ‘em.  Even Larry. He has a dry sense of humor.  Bone dry.  It takes you a few days to pick up on it…but you’ll get there eventually.”

”I’m sure I’ll do, Captain. Diplomatic attaché teams are one of the more dangerous jobs on the side. I’ll spend time reviewing their files and getting to know them, especially this Larry, sir,” O’Gallagher said crisply. 

He offered a PADD to his new TFXO, “That’s the background on the colony, their relationship with everyone, and what has been locked in place and what’s still on the table.  The team will take the lead, but we’re there to show them we’re serious in our offer and intent.”

Browsing through the PADD given by the commanding officer, he started reading through it and commented halfway, “Interesting.” O’Gallagher had his eyebrows raised up.

Fontana replied in an amused and dry tone, “That word can be pretty loaded, depending on the situation.  We can potentially bring this colony back into the Federation field.  I’d like you to run interference with any Cardassian elements in the delegation.  You speak the language – keep an eye and an ear out.  One of the assistant negotiators has a love of Human food and drink, while their legal expert has been trying to learn to speak Vulcan.”

“Aye, Captain. Have several officers run surveillance and keep an eye out on the delegation. As much as this is a diplomatic matter, we still need security measures up to standard,” asked O’Gallagher. 

Fontana understood where his new XO was coming from.  They’d come out of Frontier Day only to face The Borg all over again.  As the saying went, ‘Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.’ Nobody in the Federation or Starfleet wanted to test the theory of what a third round of being fooled would look like.  He cautioned, “The softer touch, the better, Captain.  The people out here have had a hard time trusting the Federation and us after we’ve more or less abandoned them.  They’re wary of any offer we come to the table with, no matter the conversations we’ve had leading up to this.  If they suspect we’re spying on them or something untoward, the damage control will be next to impossible.  Diplomacy is life here today.”

His badge chirped, and Captain Karrik reported they had arrived.  The delegation was being transported abroad.  Geronimo gave his new XO one last look before he led them out the conference room door, “Let’s make this right.”