In case you're unable to make this determination from reading
the prose, let me say it here: Kenneth Gauck is a true student of history, with
all that entails. It grants him a unique perspective on the Star Trek universe, certainly; and
he's used that here to give us a tale with which, I believe, both Sun Tzu and
Santayana would be pleased.
While the original story concept's origin lies in an incident
from a familiar figure's past, the manner of its explication is, in good
portion, Kenneth's. Most of the prose is his as well. Thus, top billing in this
case isn't just a matter of alphabetical precedence, but credit where it's due.
We both hope you like it.
Romulus is the center of a great
empire. Its history is filled with the glory of a thousand victories over other
worlds and their fleets. Romulan might stems not just from scientific
excellence and bold spirit in combat, but also—and more importantly—from
cunning and patience. While not every battle can be won, nearly all of them can
be made to serve the long term goals of the Star Empire. The principle trait
desired in those who would lead her naval vessels into battle is the ability to
correctly read a situation. A Romulan commander must learn from his enemies,
and anticipate their actions through sound inductive reasoning. Whether his foe
has developed a innovative technique or a new technology, a skilled
commander must adapt to it and secure victory regardless. Often success may be
achieved by avoiding enemy resistance and striking where there are few
defenses. At other times the consequences of a defeat can be used as the
springboard for other advantages. A good servant of the Praetor takes every
opportunity to pursue the destiny of the Empire.
***
It looked like rain.
Admiral Aktar T'Deran stepped off the
street and into a luxury apartment building. In the
foyer he presented a security card, inserted it into a slot and the door
opened. He was looking forward to dinner that evening. Things had been
proceeding well: His recent appointment as chief of the Liaison Division had
expanded the scope of his powers greatly. He'd sought the position and been
awarded it—solely on his reputation as a supremely capable officer. It was both
rare and pleasant to receive an accolade or commission that required little in
the way of political pressure to facilitate, and he savored it. While it was
yet another office to oversee from his Interaction Bureau at Star Command, the
advantages of the added prestige outweighed the drawbacks of additional
workload.
On Floor 74, Aktar stepped off the
turbolift and turned down the hallway to his own suite of apartments.
When he entered, his personal staff
were, of course, already about the business of preparing for the evening meal.
As was customary, the evening's guests—officers from Star Command—were already
assembled, and stood to greet their superior formally. He replied with a casual
ease, as was his right, and proceeded to the organic regenerator. Though he
possessed a replicator, as his rank and security clearance permitted, he also
had an organic regenerator for more efficient reprocessing of consumables.
"Ale," he said to the
device. The blue fluid materialized in a tall slender glass. He noted, as
always, the incongruity of such a potent brew in quite the delicate
container... and made his way to table.
Servants appeared from the kitchen
with elegantly arranged salads. Rather than being a separate course, as is the
usual case in other cultures, such a dish was used to cleanse the palate
throughout the meal. Aktar, followed by his officers, took their seats. The
host, invariably, was expected to set the tone for such a gathering; and the
guests noted that theirs was in an almost exuberant mood this evening.
Early conversation focused on hiking
in the coastal area around the capital. Many of the staff joined Aktar's
excursions to the hills and forests—though not all looked forward to them.
One of the junior staff members
arrived quite late, just as the main course was being served. As a place was
made for him at the table, he announced excitedly that Subcommander T'Laris had
been approved for assignment to the liaison program.
In response to the news, Aktar set his
fingertips into steeples. He raised his hands and lowered his head, meeting
half way. A knowing look was displayed on his face, and he began to nod.
"This will be the final
stanza," he announced, "in one of the great tragic pages of our
history."
"What matter do you intend to
bring to resolution, sir?" one of his officers inquired.
"The catastrophe of Galorndon
Core." The admiral's look was solemn as he uttered the name of the battle
where so many had been lost for no advantage.
"Sir," another member of the
staff said, "we look to you to show us how the appointment of this officer
will bring a happy conclusion to so ancient a disaster."
Again Aktar nodded. "To provide
the greatest opportunity for your edification, I will recall first the
circumstances of our defeat so many years ago, and how I will now capitalize on
the residual effects of that event to achieve benefit for the Empire
today." His staff waited attentively; they were keenly aware that such
access to this man's insights was not an opportunity to squander.
After a pause to compose his thoughts,
he began.
"The era was one of
liberalization: Reforms in the Empire; greater openness at home: closer ties to
the Federation—and the conservatives were incensed. They could not forget the
many attacks upon us, the human greed for new worlds to assimilate." Aktar
paused as one of the servants refilled his glass. "Among the most strident
opponents of improved relations were those who had earned their reputations and
early successes through victories against Starfleet in the 2270's and into the
2280's. These officers had become political animals—if, truly, one can be an
officer in the Empire's service without being a politician—and sought
additional triumphs in their old arena to fuel their further advance in the new
one. Their desires led them to see Starfleet as weak and the Federation as
unworthy."
"Sir, were there none who
recognized the strength of our enemy?"
"There were, but their voices
were not united, and their opinions not given credit until the Tomed Incident;
after which they became ascendant. No, at this time it was the Tals that
spoke cautiously about the Federation. They possessed firsthand knowledge of
the changes in Starfleet designs.
"It is our principle to strike
fear in our enemies, for a frightened adversary is often half-defeated before
the battle begins...
"...And we had frightened
the Federation. Our victories in the years after 2266 were won on the basis of
our most fundamental principles: surprise is the key to victory, and never
attack what your enemy defends. Our failures up to that time were based, in
large part, on violations of our tactical doctrine. While many of our
encounters with Starfleet capital ships were unremarkable, when we applied
cunning, used our technology correctly, and adhered to sound tactics, we were
fearsome."
"Admiral, the situation seems
favorable to us from what you say... how could this catastrophe have
occurred?"
"In a word, hubris. Let me
tell you how fear strikes at most species. When the majority witness our
awesome power firsthand, see their ships destroyed without even firing a shot,
realize the dreadful combination of cloaked ships and plasma torpedoes, they
flee, they submit—they cower.
"It is a mark of great power to
take a different approach. When confronting the unknown, the Klingons attack;
the Federation stands firm against it.
"After losing ships to our plasma
torpedo, Starfleet devoted considerable scientific resources to the improvement
of its deflector technology. Our various intelligence services were well aware
of this progress and could certainly have extrapolated the application of these
developments. We possessed clear warnings that their shields were becoming
much stronger and more durable.
"However, the faction which
opposed improving relations with the Federation rejected these findings and
claimed them to be doctored reports from those who were soft on our greatest
rival. They claimed that the Tal Shiar was in the pocket of those
senators who desired to manufacture a reason for avoiding a confrontation with
our foes. Now, neither they nor the Tal Diann were dominated by
pacifists or the timid; indeed, such a charge is evidence of how much
some politicians were willing to ignore evidence which tended to deflate their
policy programs. By the time of the battle at Galorndon Core, Federation
starship shields were twice as powerful as they'd been, and had three times the
recharge rate.
"Admiral, surely these advances
were not insurmountable?" Subcommander Movar inquired.
"No, Movar. Not at all."
"Our cloak would still allow us
to linger near our enemies while additional torpedoes charged," one staff
officer stated.
"And keeping our ships in attack groups
would counter these stronger defenses," another added.
"All very true. Our tactical
doctrine was and has always been sound, but it is only an aid to the leader who
utilizes it. The commanders of the fleet who encountered Mantovanni at
Galorndon Core did not apply proper doctrine—a mistake compounded by their
willful disbelief of developments in Starfleet's technology."
"Sir," Movar interrupted,
"you mentioned hubris earlier. How did this failing manifest
itself?"
"These men had not seen combat
for many years; they believed that the nature of battle was exactly as it had
been when they had earned their portion of glory in days past. In addition,
there was a facet of disdain for their opposition. It was completely
unjustified, considering that nothing was known about this young commander.
Assuming that your enemy is incompetent is more a reflection on your own
fitness to lead then it is on theirs.
"You are my most trusted
officers, having served with me on many assignments. What principles have
governed all my decisions?"
They considered his statement for a
moment—carefully.
Aktar often posed questions to his
staff; always interested to see who truly understood the operations of
command. Those who accepted an assignment under his aegis did so knowing
that a tour of duty in Star Command, especially on this man's staff, was
a plum assignment that could lead to promotions, and even commands of one's
own. He was an excellent judge of an officer's ability, and took pains to see
that his people moved into positions where they could be of best service to the
Star Empire—if they were worthy, of course. Commanders throughout the
fleets of the Star Navy—even those who considered him a political enemy—knew he
groomed his charges with thoroughness and prudence; a notation in a young
officer's record that he or she had "reported directly to Admiral
T'Deran" carried as much weight as having been awarded the Order of
Ra'tar.
Aktar was careful to assess who had
command ability, who had tactical instincts, who possessed strategic vision and
who was capable of administrating a large bureaucracy: Smaller ships required
fewer organizational talents. A cruiser commander needed a strong sense of
strategy, but less expertise as a tactician. Command of a frigate necessitated
the opposite. One who held the center seat of a warbird, of course, should
possess all of these skills.
Aktar believed that a brilliant
organizer and administrator who possessed no serious defects as a leader was
inevitably a much better officer than a brilliant leader who commanded a
disorganized mob. Good order was the first requirement of a fighting force.
That was why, in his opinion, the Klingons were in decline.
Star Command's staff was accustomed to
being rigorously quizzed about politics, battles, and bureaucracy. Each strove
mightily to demonstrate his or her ability and worthiness to him, both because
his favor marked an officer for great things, and because they revered him. He
was a guide who could reveal the cosmos to them as a father instructed
his children in the ways of proper conduct.
In answer to his query, they called
out eagerly:
"Keep him under strain and wear
him down."
"Offer the enemy a bait to lure
him."
"Feign disorder and strike
him."
"Attack when he is unprepared,
where he does not expect you."
"When he concentrates, prepare
against him; where he is strong avoid him."
He nodded in approval as his students
passed their latest examination. They were worthy pupils, and destined to win
glory in their service to D'era.
***
"Our attack group contained nine
vessels: Three of our durable old Birds-of-Prey, refit with limited warp
capability; three of the D-7—or if you prefer the Klingon appellation, K't'inga-class
vessels—"purchased" during our alliance; and three of our new Winged
Defender-class attack cruisers. This class, as you all know, is still in
service even today: It addressed the innovations in Federation and Klingon
engineering techniques; improved upon most aspects; and integrated these
advances with our superior shipbuilding and design capabilities into a
devastating package. These three Winged Defenders, in particular, were
newly commissioned."
"Sir?" one of his more
promising students asked. With a nod, Aktar recognized him.
"That means one-third of the force
was untried, another third was somewhat venerable, and the rest consisted of
ships built by..." and his face twisted in contempt, "...Klingons."
"Subcommander Patahk," the
admiral replied coolly, "the Romulan Star Navy would never have
allowed vessels of uncertain reliability to defend the Empire. The older
ships—and I served on one of these, bear in mind—were certainly better employed
as escorts for the newer ones; but they were still suited to this purpose, all
elements considered.
"We crossed the Neutral Zone and
deployed against a number of inconsequential Federation assets—sensor buoys,
communications relays, scientific equipment and others in the same vein. Our
purpose was to lure the enemy into a fight. It was believed, quite reasonably,
that any of the force could easily triumph over a lone Federation ship, and go
home with honors—having given a persuasive demonstration that a more
aggressive policy was well within the grasp of the Star Empire. We knew
that rather than declare war, the Federation would immediately seek to understand
why we'd attacked—and thus, our raid would be both successful in demonstrating
our point, and without real consequence."
Aktar frowned.
"We had the... misfortune...
of encountering a commander who had no intention of being 'easily triumphed
over'. Instead, he and his vessel drew the entire task force into a war of
attrition, the results with which I shall further acquaint you.
"I expect you are familiar with
his record, since our liaison program will be placing an officer on his
starship—the fabled USS Liberty." The whispers among them indicated
that the name held power even here, on Romulus itself.
"What you must remember when
listening to the bulk of this narrative is that Luciano Mantovanni was, then,
an unknown captain, holding the center seat of a vessel with no reputation
whatsoever... outside of a few annoying incidents dismissed as of little
importance by the Star Command. He, thus, had the advantage of being a
relatively uncertain element." Aktar swept them with his gaze; when he'd
ascertained that their attention was sufficiently honed, he continued.
"Mantovanni easily identified the
destruction wrought on his people's assets as the work of widely scattered
ships; isolated from Starfleet assistance and horribly outnumbered, he decided
to act nonetheless."
"I have been fortunate enough to
read his report on the incident, thanks to our superior intelligence services.
He was, of course, aware of standard Starfleet strategic and tactical
assessments of the Neutral Zone at the time; which anticipated a quiet period,
in light of warming relations. Mantovanni, whose Vulcan upbringing in concert
with human emotions gave him a unique perspective on our cultural and political
infrastructure, hypothesized that any Romulan attacks must therefore be the
actions of an aggressive faction opposed to peaceful coexistence with the
Federation; one determined either to force the hands of the Senate, or to
demonstrate a victory. He knew his guess was only that, but also realized that
a lone commander and vessel would be forced to operate on a series of perhaps
hazardous assumptions—or be paralyzed by indecision.
"It turned out that his reading
of the situation was all too accurate, unfortunately for our ambitions.
Utilizing the circumstances of our attack and the natural aggressiveness and
tendency towards personal aggrandizement inherent in the Romulan commanders of
that era, Mantovanni hoped that, with luck, he could defeat a number of them
separately and never face our force united. Knowing our penchant for caution,
he thought that a sufficient loss in men and materiel might provoke a
withdrawal, and that his duty would thus have been discharged."
"To be specific: He immediately
saw that many such attacks spread over so great a distance must be the work of
widely dispersed ships. His advanced knowledge of our naval tactics allowed him
to eliminate the possibility of a standard strike operation, and so he relied
upon his own assessment that a cadre of 'belligerent' officers desired an
incident. He concluded from this that he might be able to appeal to each
commander's sense of eternal glory, his kleros, and provoke a single
duel in which he would have a chance to defeat each of our ships in turn.
"I should note that there was one
possibility that he did not consider seriously—that these actions were the
result of a large scale multi-fleet action.
"He was correct to dismiss it. It
is inconceivable that a Praetor would initiate such an operation, considering
the enormous risks it entails, without near absolute guarantees that it would
be a resounding success. It is also unlikely that a large fleet would draw
attention to itself by attacking targets like communications arrays. Those
would have been taken out shortly after the main armadas revealed themselves in
a large battle, or an assault on a starbase.
"This obscure young commander
read us like a venerable analyst with one of the Tals. In minutes, he
had assessed our deployments, read out intentions and discovered our
weaknesses. We could not have been more unfortunate. His final act before
preparing for battle was to fire a recorder buoy updating Starfleet on the
situation."
Aktar, for a moment, turned away from
his staff officers.
"Computer: light settings at 80
percent." He knew that ambience was an important tool to any pedagogical
performance.
"Mantovanni analyzed the
locations of the known attacks and calculated that it would only be a matter of
time before one of our ships attacked the unmanned sensor and communications
facility at Galorndon Core. It was there he met the D'Rek—unfortunately
for the Federation, it was just after the destruction there had been
completed. The D'Rek, one of the aforementioned Winged Defender-class
ships, detected Liberty's approach and cloaked in preparation. Its
commander did not call for aid; nor would he have awaited it had he done so. He
maneuvered immediately against his foe, decloaked and fired his plasma
torpedo—greatly overestimating its effect at extreme range: Liberty's
shields weathered it, and the subsequent disruptor blasts, in stride.
Tactically speaking, we knew from previous encounters with other Miranda-class
cruisers that two plasma torpedoes fired at moderate range would strip
the ship of shields and leave her vulnerable to disruptor attack—thus,
Commander Crassus' assurance was unjustified.
"Even this information,
though, would prove to be outdated.
"Liberty replied with
Federation photon torpedoes and phaser fire. The overconfident commander of the
D'Rek had not even attempted to cloak and recharge his plasma
torpedo, believing the battle essentially over as a result of the previous
strike. Believing he could win an exchange of broadsides now that his main
weapon had already once struck home, he threw away a tremendous
advantage in his eagerness for the kill.
"In the subsequent duel, the
D'Rek's disruptors proved to have a slight advantage over the enemy
weapons, but her shields were no match for the Liberty's.
"She was destroyed at Galorndon
Core."
Some of the students seemed surprised
at the outcome; there were whispers that ceased as Aktar drew breath to
continue.
"Mantovanni then broadcast a
challenge, assuming the guise of an overconfident commander who might be easily
overcome. His boastful tone encouraged our own leaders into assuming that this
arrogant Starfleet officer had somehow been lucky. Since we were unclear on the
events of battle until the D'Rek's bridge recorder was recovered,
fertile imaginations could—and did—suppose any number of unfortunate events
which gave the battle to Mantovanni and Liberty in a manner which
accorded them no accolades. Our own commanders' arrogance was brilliantly
encouraged.
"They were playing right into his
hands.
"The closest vessel, N'Path,
proclaimed the Liberty as her prize and jumped to warp speeds, reaching
the Galorndon Core system in only 47 minutes. We now know that Mantovanni's
engineers had restored full shields in this time, as well as repairing the few
minor circuits lost to power overloads. The Miranda-class is still
in Starfleet service; this alone should tell you much about the durability of
the design.
"N'Path's commander was
wiser—but extremely unlucky. He closed to point-blank range, decloaked above
and to the rear of Liberty, and fired his plasma torpedo; moving off immediately
to the accompanying cover of disruptor fire. It was a standard tactic executed
exactly as it was designed, and the vessel's shields had easily withstood the
few phaser bursts fired at it in a rather haphazard pattern. Clearly they'd
been surprised.
However, one pass does not always a
battle win: The Liberty's science officer—a Vulcan woman, I might add,
who is now a vice admiral and the head of Starfleet Research—was able to detect
certain faint emissions the N'Path was unknowingly producing, and when she
cloaked, Liberty was able, at least in part, to track her. It was a
fortuitous happenstance, made possible by the skill of the Federation ship's
officers. Mantovanni opted to fire blind, hoping for a lucky strike. She got
only one, but on an unshielded vessel, often that is enough to turn the tide.
Our cruiser was forced to emerge from her cloak before she'd prepared another
plasma torpedo; and Liberty was ready and waiting.
"The N'Path was the smaller
ship; further, she had already been hit once while still cloaked.
"Though, according to Mantovanni
himself in his report to Starfleet, she acquitted herself admirably, the
subsequent forced exchange of fire resulted in her destruction.
"This shocked the fleet. The
commander of my own ship, the Jek'Nar, had opted to leave Liberty
for the N'Path; unwilling to forfeit a prize of our own to assist in
what we had all regarded as a sure victory.
"Now Mantovanni switched tactics.
He broadcast a distress call in a code which Starfleet Intelligence had
recently begun to suspect we had perhaps broken. Indeed, we had; and, as a
result, our commanders believed his starship far more heavily damaged than she
was. Mantovanni pretended near helplessness, even as his own report verifies Liberty's
crew had restored over 68% shield power before the next encounter.
"Commander Seromat was in control
of the Vek'Nata, a D-7; and his nephew held command of the Leragin,
one of the old style refits; both ships moved against the Liberty.
"By this time I could see how our
commanders, remembering only their former glorious victories and now forgetting
the proper operations by which they had won them, were being defeated by an
incredibly skilled Starfleet officer in command of a capable vessel and
assisted by a well-trained crew—just the kind one often finds alongside the
best commanders.
He shook his head briefly. "Only
much later did I learn something of Liberty's reputation before
Mantovanni took command." There were a few chuckles; those who'd been
given access to certain privileged personnel dossiers were familiar with just
what an incredible accomplishment putting the Liberty in fighting trim
had been.
"I could see that few had yet
understood the need to alter tactics. I urged the commander of my own vessel to
join with the Vek'Nata and Leragin in destroying the Liberty once
and for all. He assured me that two Star Navy warships were more than a
match for an unshielded Federation vessel calling for assistance."
Aktar's expression grew rueful.
"I was young and, then,
impetuous. I insisted that we should leave nothing to doubt, and reminded him
that aiding our comrades was a higher duty than his personal glory."
His staff gasped audibly. Never had
they encountered a high-ranking officer with such a story. Some of them had
seen others end their careers with such indiscretions; but Aktar had apparently
survived the misstep, and prospered despite it.
"For my insubordination, I was
immediately demoted one step in rank," Aktar admitted.
"I am shocked to discover that
you so defiantly questioned your commander," Lieutenant Valarix noted.
"It directly contravenes the Precept of Duty."
Aktar nodded.
"However, the faults and errors
of the battle group commanders were such that I was willing to sacrifice my
career, even my life, if only I could make them reconsider their foolhardy
approach to Mantovanni and the Liberty. When climbing a rocky incline,
if several attempts to ascend do nothing but loosen rocks and you make no progress,
you must either find a new way or a new place to try."
"But, sir, they were
sending two ships. Certainly that would be enough; you have said so
yourself," one of the staff officers protested.
"No. They were climbing in the
same place and in the same way; they were just climbing harder. We
needed a new approach. Besides, Commander Seromat's nephew was no veteran. I
don't recall that he had ever seen battle against a major power. The Leragin
was likewise crewed by inexperienced officers, many of whom were now on his
political staff. The cloaking officer was an aide and had not been on board a
warship since his Serona.
"I knew also, somehow, that
Seromat too was overconfident. Here was a dangerously cunning human
captain taunting our vessels to their destruction precisely by preying
on their commanders' visions of indestructibility. I would have more
appreciated both the irony and the opposition's skills if I'd not been a player
in the drama.
"The Vek'Nata and Leragin
arrived at Galorndon Core some nine hours later—only to find that Mantovanni
had taken refuge in the system's asteroid field. Commander Seromat maneuvered
both ships into a reasonable position for attack and decloaked. They fired
their plasma torpedoes, but Liberty was waiting with her tractor beams.
She hurled a small asteroid into one torpedo's path, detonating it before it
could do any damage. Her shields absorbed the other; they had been restored
substantially, as I previously mentioned. Mantovanni then maneuvered further
into the asteroid field...
"...and Leragin's
commander followed him. Though they engaged their cloak, Liberty opened
fire at some of the smaller asteroids and created a dust cloud—which
illuminated them."
"That is not a
particularly innovative tactic," noted one of the more opinionated staff
officers. "Leragin's commanding officer was a fool to
succumb."
When Aktar turned on him, the younger
man was as startled as the rest of them.
"You will prepare a report
for our next session on every known method used over the last 125 years
to defeat cloaking devices in combat... this will, perhaps, prevent you
from making such a rash statement in the future."
The other man bowed his head, ashamed.
"I beg forgiveness."
Aktar did not relent, but allowed him
a chance for some redemption.
"Consider your statement. Why is
it in error?"
After a moment, the response came. The
young officer smiled, somewhat sheepishly, and answered, "Because it didn't
lack innovation 80 years ago."
"Precisely. Mantovanni was the first
to employ the tactic.
"Allow me to continue.
"Without its shields and
highlighted in the dust created by the Liberty, she found herself the
target of two photon torpedoes. Both were direct hits, and what was left of her
collided with an asteroid.
"Three Romulan vessels had met
destruction, and their foe was still a viable threat.
"More than that... she wasn't
done."
***
Aktar recalled the human observation
about a "captive audience", and grinned inwardly. His staff seemed
riveted to the account, but he knew it to be more content than performance...
despite his oratory skills, he was no master thespian, and had no pretensions
thereto.
After a moment, he continued.
"The Liberty then
attempted to keep the debris from the Leragin between herself and the Vek'Nata.
"Commander Seromat assumed that
whatever the Liberty had left was insufficient to resist his next
assault. He waited for his plasma torpedo to charge, gave the asteroid field a
wide berth, and attempted to engage Mantovanni on his own terms, and not
those which would favor a Federation ship.
"Seromat was a cunning commander
and performed well, with one exception: He never advised the fleet concerning
his situation. His duel with Mantovanni was long and drawn out; several times
shots were fired to little effect. Both commanders sought every advantage. The Vek'Nata
probably had the better helm, a necessity when utilizing cloaking tactics. Liberty,
however, clearly possessed the superior science officer—the aforementioned
T'Kara. When Seromat chose what he no doubt must have believed was the optimal
moment to decloak, the Federation vessel was ready with a full spread of
torpedoes; T'Kara's scans had narrowed the playing field and Mantovanni's
instincts had done the rest.
"The Vek'Nata was lost
with all hands in a fraction of a second."
He glared at them soberly.
"Remember, the cloak is always
a risk; your tactical maneuvers are there to minimize that risk—but they will never
erase it.
"At this juncture, our numbers
were thinning. Four ships had been lost, and still the Liberty defiantly
remained, as the humans say, '...bloody but unbowed.'"
After a pause for both effect and
refreshment, Aktar picked up the thread of his narrative.
"Secretary Lavnek summoned us to
join him in a second attempt to double team her. Lavnek, by the way, had passed
down a chance to become an admiral for an opportunity at the office of
Secretary for Colonial Affairs."
Subcommander Movar was impressed.
"A most prestigious achievement for a commander not yet made an
admiral," he noted.
"Indeed true," Aktar agreed.
"Are any of you familiar with the
reputation of a Commander Vare'ek?"
He was not surprised at the chorus of
nods and quiet affirmations: This was, after all, an officer known for his
proficiency at boarding enemy ships, commanding offensive landing parties, and
suppressing rebellion. Vare'ek prided himself on having captured six Klingon
ships through boarding actions in the past 40 years. It was a truly remarkable
record—especially considering that the Klingons rarely failed to repel
such attempts, with heavy losses for those foolhardy enough to try. Vare'ek was
now posted to Occupation Command, as governor of a world which had foolishly
revolted against the Star Empire; he had shown them with agonizing clarity that
there is no rejection of D'era. He was also one of the better
politicians in the fleet; though, unlike Lavnek so many years earlier, had
never considered leaving the Star Navy for politics.
"Take note. It is a particularly apt
comparison. Lavnek was an officer of face-to-face combats. He was a bold
leader, an inspiring commander—a redoubtable warrior. But he was not, even in
his own day, the most clever of our officers. In the years after his transfer
to the War Secretariat, he had fallen even further out of touch with our
operational art. You will not be surprised to find that he commanded one of the
refit K't'inga-class ships dating from the Klingon alliance. Lavnek's
ship, the Texnar, and my own, the Jek'Nar, set a course for the
enemy's last known position at warp seven.
"The Liberty seemed to
have disappeared, but Lavnek was sure she was about somewhere. Bold to a fault,
he decloaked and taunted the Starfleet captain with his presence. Mantovanni,
it turns out, had hidden his ship in the corona of the star at Galorndon Core.
Our shields were not yet so capable, lacking both the power and the full
spectrum capabilities such a strategy would require.
"Thus, we had never considered
such a possibility."
The students noted sagely: It was rare
that a commander would admit to having missed something in an engagement, and
one of the reasons Aktar's accounts were always regarded as unwaveringly
canonical.
"The Liberty emerged, and launched
a full spread of torpedoes. Lavnek detected them and climbed the Z-axis,
avoiding a few. Still, his shields were overwhelmed and his ship somewhat
damaged by the assault. He turned on the Liberty and discharged his
entire weapons array at once.
"Then Jek'Nar decloaked
and fired as well... but I saved our disruptors for the window of opportunity I
believed was upon us: I had achieved a positive lock with my targeting computer
on Liberty's starboard nacelle as she attacked the Texnar. Both
vessels' plasma torpedoes hit—and Liberty's shields were, at last,
essentially down. In addition, there was more than a bit of ancillary
damage—her weapons systems seemed dormant, and she was listing badly to port.
"Finally, I hoped, the moment of
triumph was at hand. My disruptors hit their vulnerable target, piercing the
last shield strength of our foe—and Liberty began to shed plasma from a
nacelle that was obviously, now, heavily damaged.
"It could have been the decisive
moment: We had but to maintain our distance, fire at targets of opportunity,
and victory would have easily, at that point, been ours."
Aktar shook his head, as if he
couldn't abide even his own memories.
"This, again, was where our
commanders' over-aggressive tendencies cost us.
"Lavnek's instincts as a warrior
reminded many officers of a Klingon. It was one of the reasons he had done so
well as a leader of common soldiery. But it destroyed him as well—as I shall
describe."
Again the admiral interrupted himself
to impart a piece of advice. "Beware an officer too determined to
fight," he told them. "They are certainly useful, but must be
employed only when a determined warrior is the requirement called for by
the situation. Allowing such an officer to act out of turn prevents subtlety,
finesse, or duplicity—and, in this case, resolution. Keep such a one as he in
reserve."
"Sir," asked Movar, "if
this era's Commander Vare'ek is also a ruthlessly aggressive combatant, like
his predecessor Lavnek, how is it that he is able to manage the more... sedentary
duties which he has been instructed to undertake?"
"A good question. Vare'ek is the
scion of a noble line; and his aristocratic birth taught him certain things
about delicacy and subtlety that are a so commonly found requirement in his
class. The man is," the admiral added, as a surprise, "a noted
collector of arts and antiquities.
Aktar stood up and stretched his legs.
After a moment's respite, he reseated himself more comfortably.
"Where was I? Ah, yes...
"Lavnek, determined to claim the
lion's share of the credit for this achievement, sent a boarding party over to
the Liberty.
"I was furious. What is he
doing? I asked myself within the privacy of my own thoughts. But I knew...
again one of our commanders had assumed the ship-to-ship combat to be essentially
over when such was not yet the case.
"We detected the transport, and
immediately I realized that the strategy which would have ended the battle
would have to wait until such time as the boarding action was either repelled
or successful. It would not do at all to destroy a ship that might in but a
moment be captured—especially when Romulan marines had already been put
aboard. Again, we had, for the moment, been rendered helpless by the
circumstances.
"It turned out that my estimate
was correct. Liberty was in desperate trouble, to be certain, but she
wasn't quite helpless. In the moments Texnar's shields were down,
Mantovanni utilized one of the few weapons on his vessel that was still
partially functional. Liberty's gunnery crew manually loaded a photon
torpedo, and launched it at their would-be conqueror.
"If there's one thing about an
old design, even a fairly reliable one like the K't'inga, it's that it
doesn't hold many surprises. What tactical officer—Romulan, Klingon or
Federation—is ignorant of where the anti-matter storage containers on such a
ship are located?
"I would have said it was a lucky
hit, if we Romulans believed in such things; but when dealing with this man,
this ship, I was no longer certain whether it was fortune or something more
esoteric and arcane. Texnar's warp core exploded; both Liberty
and Jek'Nar were hit by the shock wave.
"Several stations on our bridge
were overloaded by the electromagnetic impulses and burst into flames; one, the
communications console, actually exploded. My commander was killed by a piece
of metal therefrom which pierced his eye and entered his brain.
Aktar's expression was momentarily
grim.
"I cannot in good conscience say
I was sorry to see him die.
"This circumstance altered
everything on board the ship. We had seconds to act before the Liberty
would come about—I estimated that she'd actually been much further away than we
at the moment of Texnar's demise, and had no doubt weathered it better.
Those Federation shields at which many of our "experts" had scoffed
had once more proven critical. Her crew had again restored them
minimally in the seconds before the explosion—to perhaps 11 or 12%—and that was
just enough to ride it out.
"I activated our cloak, and this
gave us a few precious moments. You see, the Jek'Nar was a fully
complimented Bird-of-Prey. The whole of the crew, except for the now-dead
commanding officer and his second, had served together for some time."
"Where had your original
commander gone?"
"He was conveniently transferred into
a posting at Star Fortress XVI," the admiral replied. "No doubt he'd
made an enemy who wished him separated from a vessel and crew loyal to him. It
was with genuine regret that I heard of his death only a few months later in a
shuttle 'accident.'
"You will not be surprised to
hear that the crew had a great respect for and devotion to me. When I moved to
seize control of the Jek'Nar, I had no doubts I would receive their
support.
"This mission had been mishandled
from the beginning, and I'd had all I could bear: I declared that I was
assuming command of the ship. Subcommander Bochra stirred as if to protest, but
saw that the crew had no desire to risk its own death except under one they
could trust. Wisely, he submitted to my authority."
It was clear that some of the students
were profoundly uncomfortable with the
idea of his having relieved a superior officer in such a manner. However,
rather than lecturing them on this point, Aktar allowed them to form their own
conclusions.
Children must eventually think for
themselves, after all, or they remain children.
"I brought us to maximum impulse,
escaped the star's gravitational interference, and warped out of the system. I
knew that Liberty's faster-than-light capability was essentially gone;
it would be impossible to create the proper subspace field geometries with the
damage done to her starboard nacelle.
"I signaled all the remaining
ships for a council of war... as should have been done long before.
"I found the commanders' nerve
shaken and their confidence torn. I understood then, though, that as long as I
avoided treading on either egos or honor, I could direct the actions of the
task group's remnants in toto.
"You see, at that point, no one wanted
operational command—and understandably so." The students nodded as one;
the situation had already degenerated into an unmitigated disaster, and the
remaining commanders were no doubt already formulating the stratagems which
would allow them to shift blame away from themselves.
"Though it took more time that I
would have liked, I brought the whole fleet together. We had lost D'Rek,
N'Path, Leragin, Vek'Nata and now Texnar—five ships
in all. We had wounded the Liberty, however...
"...and it was time we destroyed
her.
"When the other three ships
rendezvoused, we reentered the system, having given the Liberty less
than 15 hours to effect repairs. Sensors recorded that her shields were up to
57%.
"I was shocked to see it. I'd
been prepared to observe a modicum of repairs in place, but to see her screens
almost three-fifths restored gave me a moment's pause. We'd hammered and
hammered at the Liberty, torn her shields away just in time to see our
own ships destroyed; and when successors came to finish the job, they once
again faced renewed protection. I knew that the ability of Federation ships to
withstand such terrible punishment was more than just her technology. We
essentially matched her in such development—if not in the specific area of
deflectors, than certainly elsewhere. It was her commitment to large crews and
the repairs that so many dedicated, well-trained personnel could effect.
"It was then that I had the
germination of an idea which would contribute to the development of the D'Deridex-class:
A ship large enough to withstand terrible damage, crewed by a thousand men or
more to repair and rebuild her in space. That, and putting enough torpedoes on
one ship to take care of Starfleet's best by herself."
"So, we again engaged the Liberty.
Her shields were partially restored, but, as I'd previously speculated, her
nacelle was completely beyond repair without the aid of a starbase. I
instructed the fleet to decloak as one—there to deal Mantovanni and the Liberty
a fatal blow in one swift interval. I gave my mark, and our ships appeared. For
once, we seemed to have achieved complete surprise... no doubt Liberty's
sensor array had not escaped significant damage, and even the formidable T'Kara
was unable to predict our appearance.
"It was a glorious moment. Four
plasma torpedoes were launched, and hurtled toward the Liberty. Our
sensors detected additional energy being poured into the shields—but she didn't
even try to flee. Her maneuverability was almost non-existent. Instead, she had
no choice but to accept the damage we were dealing. A slight declension along
the Z-axis enabled her to slip past one torpedo, but that was all she could do.
"We saw the assault strike
home... and knew the satisfaction of seeing Liberty essentially dead in
space."
There were murmurs of approval from
many of the staff; at last right had triumphed over unfortunate circumstance
and unworthy deception.
Aktar swallowed a smile. Bright though
they all were, they were still somewhat guileless when he addressed them.
"Then, the proximity alert klaxon
sounded.
"Two additional Federation
warships were detected nearly on top of us, approaching at a velocity none of
the task force's vessels could match. Additional scans revealed another three
within thirty minutes of our position. Retreat was imperative; and, of course,
I called for an immediate withdrawal. We had done our duty and avenged our
fellows. The Liberty was adrift, on fire, and had two large hull
breaches. This ship would not be salvageable.
"Unfortunately, two of the other
commanders suddenly found their confidence again, and wanted a few more
precious seconds to fire disruptors, even though we could see life pods being
launched from Liberty's aft quarter.
"Despite my desire to simply
depart the system with all possible speed, we stayed to support our fellows for
those final instants.
"It was perhaps my only error in
judgment. A pair of Excelsior-class battleships arrived; in their day,
they were the most formidable vessels any of the three great powers had yet
produced.
"For the first time, we were
outgunned... and no Romulan need be ashamed if he or she were to admit
that such names as were displayed by their ID call markers chilled him or her
to the bone—for the vessels were Excelsior herself..."
"...and Enterprise."
***
"In the face of this new threat, I had, of course, called
for our vessels to immediately disengage, cloak and fall back. The ability to
order and enforce a retreat is as necessary to the office of a commander as is
the ability to select a moment of attack.
"Presented with two Excelsior-class starships
closing rapidly, again my fellows chose to act individually, instead of
as one. It had been my intention to have us move with swiftness away from the
Starfleet vessels and escape this final encounter. One of our ships, the Genua,
came about, with the intention of doing so; unfortunately, she had
sustained slight damage to her warp engines when Liberty had selected her
as its target during our simultaneous attack of a few moments before. A single
hit from a photon torpedo before her shields had been fully energized now
necessitated minor, but crucial repairs.
"The other two commanders, engrossed in the glory of the
kill, and infuriated that Liberty had so wounded a once proud task
force, struck with their disruptors again. It was a waste of time: Our foe was,
at this point, essentially a hulk.
"I evaluated the situation, and decided that an account of
this engagement should reach Star Command. Thus, instead of swinging back to
assist my sister ships, I ordered our cloak engaged and settled in to observe
the inevitable outcome."
There were whispers from the gathered students—some seemed
shocked at the callousness of Jek'Nar's withdrawal; others nodded in
agreement at the move.
"It was not a decision with which I was completely
reconciled. It is standard procedure when a fellow's starship is unable to find
an opportunity to safely engage his cloak, to provide that chance with a
distraction. In the face of Excelsior and Enterprise-B, both
primed and eager for battle, though, it would have been an exercise in
futility.
"This had a personal consequence for me as well: I knew the
engineer of the Genua and considered him a close cohort. We had served
in the Naval Academy together when we first undertook the military way of life.
This friend of mine—Salnek—was a highly skilled officer with a true sense of
Romulan destiny, and brought nothing but glory to his uniform. He also had a
young family at home, one which survives him to this day.
"Now Genua's commander was no fool. He used the now
helpless hulk of the
"Meanwhile, Phaleria had exchanged fire at a
somewhat greater distance with Excelsior herself; as you will recall,
she was commanded in this time period by a formidable officer, Hikaru Sulu. No
doubt this veteran knew every trick of maneuver; he had been a legendary
helmsman himself, and allowed nothing to get past him. His vessel, despite its
sluggishness compared to ours, continued to maneuver against Genua; even
while pummeling Phaleria from 150,000 kilometers away. Even a plasma
torpedo directed at this juggernaut did not in the least deter it.
"Almost, my resolve failed. I nearly directed our helm to
climb and approach Excelsior from above. To watch your sister ships
destroyed before your eyes is not an easy thing.
"For a moment, I had hope; though Phaleria was
broken and afire, Genua had turned away despite Excelsior's
movements. By her subspace emissions, she was literally seconds away from
activating her warp drive and escaping.
"It was then that
"I learned later from the logs that Mantovanni, T'Kara and
a handful of officers and crew had remained aboard her. Genua, in her
eagerness to escape Exclesior, had maneuvered directly in front of
"...and the near-derelict, with her last energies, rammed
her."
Some of the audience shuddered; they had experienced too many
tales of Jem'Hadar vessels doing much the same thing when a battle was lost or
an opening needed. That a Federation starship and commander would employ
such a tactic was nothing short of astounding.
"It was here that
"As you might expect, when the triumphant Captain Sulu
asked for Phaleria's surrender, her commander destroyed the ship to
avoid capture."
"I took it upon myself to inform the family of Salnek's
death. His wife and young daughter were stricken with grief. Though I, too, had
a family—or, perhaps, because I did and could imagine them suffering had
my ship been the one destroyed by Liberty—I took it upon myself to watch
over them and offer assistance; taking the role of, as the humans say, an 'uncle
of the service'. Those of you whose parents are or were in the military no
doubt knew officers whom you regarded so. The most dear companions are those
who we hold as kinsmen."
Aktar's staff nodded knowingly.
He continued, "Salnek's daughter serves in the Romulan Star
Navy today; and is the kind of officer who brings glory not only to herself,
but her father's memory, as well. At first, she pursued the career path he had;
in fact, when I held the Terix before
Commander Sirol succeeded me, Salnek's daughter was my master of engineering.
There, she showed exceptional ability in directing and managing both personnel
and resources. Taken as a whole, her abilities are considerable, and she now
wears the style of a command officer. She also holds a great animosity towards
the Federation for the death of her father.
"I have selected this woman—Telaris—for a very
specific task; she will undertake the mission as liaison officer on the
Federation ship Liberty."
Aktar's staff grew confused; they looked first at each other and
then back to the admiral.
Subcommander Patahk asked, "You are telling us that you
have selected the daughter of an officer killed in battle with Mantovanni, who
by your own admission bears tremendous animosity towards the Federation, and
that she will be sent to Mantovanni's own ship, the namesake of his
vessel at the time of her father's death?
"And he too, for that matter... is he not rightly regarded
as hostile to our people? One of our most dangerous and hated foes?"
"Your analysis is correct."
As one, they waited for him to explain.
Instead, he rose.
"I shall expect you all to prepare incisive questions to
direct at our fellow during his analysis of cloak penetration methods
tomorrow." A knowing look at the young officer reminded him that the
admiral hadn't forgotten his instructions.
"You are all dismissed."
It was only an hour later, when Aktar roused himself from his
meditations, that he noticed one of his subordinates had yet lingered.
Commander V'ret, T'Deran's chief of staff for some years, gazed
in silence at his mentor.
"You wish to speak, my friend?" the older man invited.
V'ret nodded.
"If I can understand your purpose, do not deceive
yourself into thinking that others cannot, Admiral. You play a dangerous
game."
Admiral Aktar T'Deran gazed in silence at his protégé for a long
moment, then truly smiled for the first time that evening. It was the smile of
the predator, the hunter—the Romulan.
"Those, V'ret, are the ones most worth winning."