The Qu'Anr - Star Trek Corsairs

The Consortium - Time for action

Posted on 16 Jun 2020 @ 11:11pm by Marcus Bardin & Sergey Azarov
Edited on on 16 Jun 2020 @ 11:19pm

Mission: Warriors for the working day
Location: Planet Jouret IV - Personal Residence of Sergey Azarov, Chairman and Founder “Trans-Stellar Consolidated Mining Corporation”
Timeline: 6 Months ago

[ON]

[Six Months ago]

[Personal Residence of Sergey Azarov, Chairman and Founder “Trans-Stellar Consolidated Mining Corporation”]


Azarov threw the PaDD he had been reading on to his antique coffee table in exasperation, it rattled the glass of tea sitting there on its silver saucer.

“That’s the fifth shipment in eighteen months!” He snarled “On top of three raids on our facilities in that region!”

His Personal Aide, Marcus Bardin, nodded, he knew from experience it was better to let the old man vent and answer questions when needed than to interrupt.

“That’s what? Nine hundred and fifty millions credits? Plus how many crew? Forty? Forty-five?” Azarov clenched his fist in anger, pressing it into the arm of his chair.

Bardin nodded again, “Forty-three, including two families” He said quietly.

Azarov ground his fist into the arm of the chair. “Still killing children? So much for Klingon honor in the Sovereignty of Kahless!”

He was seventy-six years old, he had started as a mining engineer on New Petrograd and over the last fifty four years he had singlehandedly built one of the largest mining companies in the central sectors of the Alpha Quadrant. He’d done it all, from prospecting, mining, hauling, processing, smelting and refining. Despite his age, his lavish lifestyle and expensive suits he still looked like a rough-neck fresh off a mining rig, tall, broad shouldered, close cropped grey hair, steel blue eyes and a hard jaw. He prided himself he could still swing a pick and an ore hammer if needed.

Trans-Stellar Consolidated had branched out into transportation, cargo, colony construction and terraforming, making its founder a very wealthy man. Azarov had been grooming his son to take over, but eighteen months ago Nikolai had been killed in a raid on a Magnesite facility by the Klingon insurrection, the Sovereignty of Kahless and their new leadership, the House of Mokai.

Since then the Klingon rebels had continued to raid Federation space, targeting raw materials and trade ships. Trans Stellar had now lost five tow ships and their flotilla of ore barges.

“What excuse did Starfleet have this time?” He demanded of Bardin

“The closest ship was dealing with a Tsunami disaster on Meliner VII. It took them twenty six hours to respond to the distress call” Bardin explained. “When they got there…”

“- the bastards were gone!” Azarov finished “Fled like the miserable rabble they are! While the Federation and Starfleet let them get away with it!”

He lurched up out of the chair and crossed to the large windows that looked out over the lush garden. On the lawn his daughter-in-law, Cassandra, a widow at just twenty-nine years old, played with his two young grandchildren, Nikolai Junior and his little sister Alexcia. A child who would grow up never knowing her father, having been born just seven months before Nikolai’s death.

Azarov clenched his hands behind his back and stared out of the window. He stayed that way for several minutes, thinking.

Unlike most high net worth businesses, he had kept Trans-Stellar out of politics. He had dealt with many regional and planetary governments but while most CEO’s were busy making contributions and seeking favors, Azarov had kept all his dealings on strictly business terms. That did not mean he had not made a few acquaintances along the way but he had always prided himself on being self-sufficient and he detested the thought of going cap in hand to some Federation Bureaucrat to insist they do something, not after the last time.

He had tried, once, after Nikolai had been killed, he had been at a Federation regional raw materials supply conference. He had found out just how bad the attacks by Kahless raiders were, when several of his competitors confirmed they were also losing shipments and mines to these thieves.

He’d asked questions about why the Federation was not responding, then made a scene when the pompous Federation Minister of Mining informed him it was a “complex situation, difficult to quantify in real terms” and that he should “rest assured Starfleet was doing everything possible”.

Sergey had lost his temper, pounded on the table and demanded to know just how he should “quantify the loss of his only child in real terms?” then stormed out.

Over the coming months Trans-Steller had missed out on several Federation contracts, they had been given various excuses, but he knew the real reason, the Minister had not liked being publicly embarrassed.

Azarov had come home, mourned his son and concentrated on his business, increased security, changed some routes and adjusted shipping schedules but losses had steadily mounted and today another forty-three of his people were dead.

The situation would not be allowed to continue. If the Federation would not act to stop these Klingon murderers, then he would.

He turned to Bardin, “Who do we know in Starfleet?”

“What division? We normally deal with the Corps of Engineers, Supply and Requisitions or Logistics” His aide replied.

“No, what about Security or Intelligence? Somebody who can deal with these Kahless dogs, not just in the Federation but over in the Empire too! Who do you know Marcus?”

Bardin was a lawyer by training, but before joining Trans-Stellar he had spent eight years in Starfleet in the Judge Advocate General’s Office.

“Where are you going with this Sergey?” He asked, something had turned in the old man, Bardin knew that look, Azarov was planning something. “Starfleet can’t take action without Federation approval, certainly not inside the Klingon Empire. The Federation vies this as an internal matter for the Empire” His tone was even but Azarov saw the worry in his aide's eyes.

Azarov waved his hand, brushing aside Bardin’s concerns. “I know this, but the Federation has let this situation go on for years. The Klingons do nothing, the Federation does nothing and if they won’t act, I will, and I think you know somebody in Starfleet who can help us…”

To be continued…

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