The National Police Agency's Story

The Enforcer growled, but there was something unsettling in Hannibal's words. What was he thinking ... to storm Fort Veritas with a handful of traitors? The terrorist had to know his gambit was doomed. There was clearly some ulterior motive here - but what?

Fortunately, the now disarmed Enforcer had conveniently left his comms on when he took off his helmet, and had explicitly stated the location and numbers of the traitors as he taunted them.




The central command hub of the fort was in its usual squalor as technicians and aids hustled to-and-for, performing the many never-ending tasks to ensure TNG security. Scouter checks were run across the globe by the minute. Reports from patrols and triremes were gathered and organized. Orders were sent to troops hundreds of miles away.

The Enforcer sent down to the prison had been monitored by only one technician - they had not expected anything serious of the incident. As the young worker listened wide-eyed to the exchange between the loyal trooper and the invaders, he stood shakily out of his seat.

"Sir!" he nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran towards the central hub. Captain Aaron Vrail sat comfortably in his chair overlooking command. He barely looked up from his paperwork as the technician stumbled forward.

"Problem corporal?"

"Sir! I'm reporting a disturbing transmission, sir!"

"Do you have a pinpoint on its origin?"

The technician cleared his throat. "Here, sir. Three levels down."

Vrail looked up from his paperwork. "Put it on the speakers." He lifted his chin, shouting in a voice as clear and hard as polished glass, "silence on deck!"

The chatter cut, the hustle-and-bustle came to a shuffling halt. The audio transmission rang through out the room. For a moment, all was deathly silent. The impossible truth seeped into the command hub. Veritas was under attack.

Vrail was the first to break the trance. "Battle stations!" he called, "full lock down on the prison level! Dispatch Guardian teams to intercept!" The men thawed in a heartbeat. The comman hub was instantly working twice as fast as before.

"I want Oracles on that level," Vrail was still giving orders, "I want every man on every floor of this building scouted and accounted for."

"Sir," a sergeant stepped forward, "should we call for reinforcements from the nearby Triremes?"

"No," Vrail shook his head, "alert them but do not send for reinforcements. Keep them on standby."

Another technician spoke up. "Sir! Power on the subfloors are down! Video feed from the security room is out! We don't have access to our gas and turrets. All of our main generators are down. Someone in the power level has sabotaged us."

"And the backups?"

"Going strong, since they're not in the main power room. There's not enough energy going through the Fort to power our shields, turrets or gas quarantines, but we still have control of most of its functions." His fingers clacked across the keyboard. "They have control of at least the prison level, the power level and apparently the security level."

"Old fashion way then," Vrail nodded. "We lock down the Fort and move through every level systematically, starting with the most important levels."

---

Down in the prison level, massive metal walls would slide down from the ceilings, hopefully keeping the traitors from escaping. Every level was now under lockdown. It was entirely possible that the blast doors had sealed on many of the levels before the traitors could enter. A great metal sheet would begin to lower down on corporal Wong's head even as he poked it out into the new floor.

Vrail's voice boomed on the comm. "Attention Veritas! We are under attack. Terrorists have infiltrated our facility. We believe that are dressed in military garb and armor and may in fact be soldiers under the employment of the TNG. Sections B, C, D and prison section Nihl, be advised, we believe the hostiles are concentrated on your level. Marine squads are beginning a sweep through the Fort. Each squad is protected by an Oracle. Submit immediately to these squads and disarm yourselves. Do not, I repeat, do not take orders from any squad not overseen by an Oracle or from any NPA personnel or Enforcers. Anyone with information regarding the hostiles are to report to central command immediately, NOT security."

---

Mara listened to Vrail's message grimly. "Looks like the horn's already been blown." She looked down at the wounded man. "Rest, soldier. I'll handle this."

The NPA investigator moved stealthily along the walls towards the security room. If she could retake this room, she would be able to restart the Fort's video feed and give the good guys their eyes back across the facility. She would check if the main door leading into the security room was locked.

"Shit!" Wong said as the barrier began to lower, jumping back so that he wouldn't end up with a crushed head. He enjoyed having a head. "The jig is up." He told the others, pointing upwards as Vrail's voice boomed through the facility.

"What now?" Bryce asked, "We hold the line." Grier answered, "We have to work with what we have. And right now we have three floors under our control. That includes the armory, the security room, and the prison. All of which are very secure." He noted to the others, gesturing for them to follow as he headed back down to the hall.

Hunter remained standing over the captured NPA Enforcer, rifle aimed at his head. Hunter wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, but his trigger finger began to twitch when he heard Vrail's voice.

"Comms, right?" He asked the captured man, firing his weapon at the Enforcer's helmet before returning his aim back to the prisoner. "Change of plans!" Grier called out, leading the group of would-be ass-kickers out to meet Hunter. "Someone call Laz. He should still be on the outside. We'll need his intel." Sergeant Grier ordered.

"What do we do with the hostage?" Wong asked, the group falling silent. Hostages were tricky. You had to determine if they'd be useful and how. If they were important to the people on the other side of the aisle that shooting through them isn't an option.

Hannibal stepped forward, "Grab me some explosives. I'll handle it." He said, "You heard the man, get to it!" Grier commanded. "I thought the plan was to escape." Jacob said to Hannibal, panic clearly injected into each word. The young man didn't have the abilities his father had given him before. He was human as can be now.

"Can't you break down the walls and walk me out of here?" Jacob asked, "I could." Hannibal answered, watch as several rogue soldiers brought C4 and grenades. "Line the halls, and the hostage, with explosives. Head down to security and get the cameras on. We need to see." The Tunisian man ordered.

"Hannibal, Hulk the walls and get me out of here!" Jacob yelled, "That's not part of the plan, boy. I have my orders." Hannibal informed the young man as the soldiers went to work. Hunter reached out to grab the captured Enforcer and pull him to his feet. One of the soldiers moving to place C4 in the hostage's hands.

"Hold onto those, will ya'?" He asked mockingly, arming the explosives.

"With me. We're getting some eyes down here." Grier said, pointing out two of the liberated prisoners and a rogue soldier to follow him back down to the security room.

The security room itself was unlocked, the bodies of the security officers inside were starting to smell. They hadn't been dead long, but wasn't like their blood, guts, and involuntary bowel releases lended well to their aroma. The room was a bloodbath.

The use of knives to bring the room down instead of guns was the reason behind the brutal scene. It couldn't get any worse.

Hopefully.

"My identifier is Angel, and I have actionable Intelligence concerning your prisoner, if you want to play games then I'll stop wasting your time." Marlene hissed on the other end. She grasped the phone firmly while watching the sun eclipse behind Pangar over Caprica City's skyline, she was calling from her main office phone, which routed through a series of dead end blockers to make it difficult to trace the number.

Ladon didn't react when the Ilyssa stood from the door, rather his eyes quietly followed her movements to the door as she spoke with the person on the other side.

"Whoever we must to obtain our goal." Ladon answered, Intentionally vague.

"We both know that's no answer to the question," Ilyssa said. "And we know that no answer is just about as good as one, too. And your friends, well, who's to say that one of them might not be a bit more forthcoming, huh?" After all, they did have the other three Moluks detained too, as well as the person purportedly from Hataf, though Ilyssa had received a note about that one. She'd look through the file more thoroughly in a bit. Though this one, whatever his real name was, seemed to be clearly in charge. He emanated that kind of air.

In the switchboard room, the operator carefully transcribed and recorded every word coming through the line. "Identifier acknowledged. I'll relay the call to the Bureau."

Moments later, another voice answered, older and calm. "Operations, identifier Yoder. What message do you have?"