I was uncertain as to how I was going to
begin Tales of the 13th Fleet. On
Now, nearly four years later, I’m poised
to begin work on “Cataclysm,” the final chapter as yet un-posted in what has become
a nine-story cycle. Pocket Books, in that time, has conceived, commissioned and
published their own version of things: Tales
of the Dominion War… and yes, new readers, that means
mine was along well before theirs.
Interesting coincidence insofar as titles are concerned, wouldn’t you say? I’ll
not read it until “Cataclysm” is complete, so I can’t at this time offer an
opinion. I’ve only had one reader who’s read both make
a comment.
Thus far, it’s Me
– 1, Them – 0.
I expected nothing less.
[Note to long-time readers: I’ve had to
replace USS Agamemnon and its crew in
my writings. Richard Spake, Aggy’s creator, and I had
something of a falling out; actually, to be frank, it was more of a flameout. Thus, I thought it best to
remove both his artwork and the names with which he provided me from my site
and return them to him. The stories in which they appear remain otherwise
inviolate, since I gave the characters… well, character.
Only the names are changed to protect
the insole– eh, innocent.]
Stardate (Terran Common Date):
51009.5 (
Time: 1113
hours, Federation Standard (FST)
Location: Alpha
Quadrant, Sector 21527
Federation Auspicious-class
explorer/light frigate USS Adventurous, Captain E.J. Donaldson
commanding, en route to Starbase 347 after completion of three-year
long-range exploration assignment
Alert Status:
Green
Erika Donaldson was almost home…
…and she was surprised at her
indifference to that fact.
For weeks now, her crew had been
anticipating landfall in a Federation port for the first time in over 38
months. Leaves, reassignments, promotions and reunions all beckoned invitingly
to the exhausted group of explorers. They'd done a far better job than anyone—especially
Starfleet, thought Donaldson bitterly—had expected; and the rewards for
their work were only a handful of days away.
It was only now, as they approached
home, that the determined little Adventurous had finally begun to flag.
Despite the best efforts of her ingenious engineer, Taylor Maxwell, the last
few weeks had seen first the experimental transwarp drive, and then the more
conventional FTL engines, exhibit a crankiness that still threatened to leave
them needing a tow. Thus far, Maxwell had been able to continue giving her
captain warp five, but the CEO was making no promises.
"Two minutes… mark,” came the near-monotone of the conn
officer, Lieutenant T'Lise. Erika, though, who'd overseen
this bridge crew on literally hundreds of watches, could detect a hint of
tolerant amusement from the helmsman: Her first officer, the incorrigible,
irrepressible Commander Douglas Roese, had asked the
Vulcan to inform him when Adventurous would cross back into Federation
space. Now, as his commanding officer watched in amusement, he passed around
noisemakers in preparation for celebrating a moment that otherwise would have
gone unnoticed—and certainly unheralded.
Leave it to you to start the party
early, Doug. Oh, well, why not contribute as opposed to sitting here like a
grump?
"What's the nearest Federation
outpost to our position?"
Surprisingly, it was her supposedly
distracted X-O who provided the answer.
"That would be Deep Space Five,
Captain!" he declared with an enthusiasm she might not be able to match,
but could at the very least endeavor to appreciate.
Erika considered trying to imagine the
derring-do he had planned once he'd reached an appropriate venue—then dismissed
it as something she'd probably not want to know.
She suppressed another grin.
"All right, then. Hail them… we
should just be within instantaneous subspace communications range now."
"Of course, Commander,"
trilled Ensign Pashta. The Felisian moved his paws
over the specially configured console.
A moment passed; that delightful purr
died away.
"That's odd. They don't
respond."
"Perhaps we are still
slightly out of range," Doug suggested.
"Negative," the young officer
replied. "They should be receiving us."
Abruptly, his console beeped; it was
not, however, a sound that indicated a response to their hail.
"Multiple sensor contacts…" he
informed them, "…emerging from the system bearing
77, mark 22… and the one at 347, mark 38."
"Yellow alert," ordered Erika,
her instincts aroused. "Get me an ID, Pashta.
Doug, call all of alpha shift to the bridge."
"Yes, ma'am," he said,
suddenly sober in demeanor; he bent over his own display.
Slowly, Pashta
fed them all more data.
"They're moving to intercept us…
eleven altogether… four Cardassian warships, Galor-class,
type C… and seven Jem'Hadar fighters."
Cardassians and Jem'Hadar
together? Erika thought.
What the hell's been happening while we were gone?
"We aren't flirting with the
borders of their space, are we?" she inquired.
"Negative," supplied T'Lise. "The sector is clearly within Federation
boundaries. The Cardassians have never claimed it."
"Until now," Doug muttered.
"Intercept in 82 seconds,"
noted Pashta. "We're being hailed."
"Prepare to come about," Adventurous'
captain had already decided that this situation wasn't going to get any better.
Doug Roese,
regretfully, reminded her, "Remember, we're limited to warp five."
She nodded grimly. "On
screen."
Donaldson hadn't dealt with many
Cardassians during her Starfleet career; this one, though, seemed particularly
pleased with himself.
"This is Gul
Jasad of the Cardassian Eleventh Order; your ID call
marker signifies you as a Federation starship… Auspicious-class." The name seemed to amuse him.
He has a taste for irony, she thought.
"You will immediately come to a full stop, and
prepare for boarding."
He didn't sound inclined to discuss
options or terms.
The text Doug Roese
transmitted to her armchair command panel screen gave Erika both pause—and a
chill.
It read:
Since when do the Cardassians have an 11th Order?
While Jasad
made a rather nauseating attempt to smile reassuringly, she considered her
X-O's observation.
He's right. Their military seems rather
larger than I recall from my briefings. Hell, I don' t
even remember a Ninth Order,
let alone an 11th.
Beneath the comm's
pickup, Pashta panted, "Their weapons are fully
powered, and their shields in place."
Jasad may not be at all interested in boarding us; he
could just want an easy kill.
Either way…
With a quick knifing gesture, Erika had
the channel cut.
"180
degrees about, T'Lise! Best speed,
and evasive maneuvers!" Almost as an afterthought, she ordered, "Red
alert! Battle stations!"
Despite her relative exhaustion, the
game starship Adventurous came about, and accelerated to maximum.
Unfortunately, right now, maximum
wasn't exactly a blistering pace.
"They are still
closing," T'Lise informed her captain calmly.
"I estimate we will fall under their guns in four minutes, two seconds.
"Their speed is better than warp
9.3. We are holding at warp 5.27."
They're not fooling around. Donaldson punched her chair's comm
panel.
"Bridge
to engineering.
The angry voice of Chief Engineer
Maxwell snapped, "Well, that's not going to happen any time today.
You told me not four hours ago you wouldn't need them in the
'foreseeable future,' I believe you said—and that I could…"
"Don't say it," the
captain groaned.
"…tinker."
Keep it together, Erika, she sternly told herself. This isn't
A vicious part of her said, No… the
gods just hate us.
"What about warp drive?"
Donaldson inquired, as evenly as she could manage.
"Give me three hours, and I'll get
you warp seven."
Despite their imminent capture or
destruction, Doug Roese found it in himself to shake
his head and chuckle.
Erika was less amused.
"We have three minutes,
There was a brief pause, then the very
put upon voice of Taylor Maxwell allowed, "I'll see what I can
do." She then cut the channel.
"Well, so much for running
away," Donaldson grumbled. "Weapons status?"
Pashta, who'd moved to the tactical station
upon the arrival of Lieutenant Commander Solan, their
alpha shift ops officer, growled in frustration.
"Phasers fully powered… but,
Captain, remember…" and he finished gingerly, "…we only have three
photon torpedoes."
Oh, sh–…
Erika Donaldson glared openly at her
X-O.
"Hey," he protested, "how
was I supposed to know the Cardassians were going to jump us less than a
week away from home? The Cyrillians were pretty
damned grateful last month for our assistance with the destruction of that
planetoid. They sure didn't have the weapons to do it."
Donaldson sighed. They'd taken a
calculated risk and depleted their supply of torps,
hoping they wouldn't need them for the last 19 days of their journey.
Considering they'd fired a grand total of 11 in the 37 months previous, it had
seemed a reasonable wager.
Of course…
"Yeah, I know, Doug. It's just
that, now, we don't have the weapons, either."
"Three minutes to intercept," T'Lise reminded them.
Scrambling desperately for an option,
Erika brought up a tactical display on her command chair panel. After a few
seconds, she ordered, "Course 112, mark 38. We'll have to try for that
system."'
"At our current speed, we will be
intercepted 12 seconds short of our goal," her helmsman warned.
Erika nodded.
"Let's just hope
She and Roese
exchanged glances. They were in silent agreement: A slim chance at evasion was
better than slowly being overtaken… and then destroyed.
For the next minute and ten seconds,
they watched as the distance closed inexorably. Then, just as Erika was about
to issue combat orders, Adventurous lurched.
"We have accelerated to warp
6.15," T'Lise noted. "At current velocity,
we shall reach the system 37 seconds ahead of our pursuers."
"Make for the asteroid field,
helm," Erika commanded. "It's our only chance to give them any kind
of a fight." Short though it might be.
"Aye, Captain."
The tired vixen Adventurous
slipped into a thicket… but the hounds were nipping at her heels.
Stardate (Terran Common Date):
51009.51 (
Time: 1118
hours, Federation Standard (FST)
Location: Alpha Quadrant,
Sector 21528
Federation Sovereign-class
heavy explorer/fast battleship USS Liberty, Captain L.C. Mantovanni
commanding, performing reconnaissance-in-force within
Alert Status:
Yellow
"I do not like hiding,"
growled Rajah Bagheer.
"One would assume that does not
preclude understanding its necessity," came the
easy reply from the operations station—where Lieutenant Commander Sera MacLeod
performed an operation of the greatest delicacy, even while gently teasing her
superior.
Luciano Mantovanni, too, could
sympathize with his friend.
"It's what old Terran scouts used
to call 'acquiring the lay of the land,' Bagheer. Considering our situation, I
think it a prudent course of action."
His X-O's tail twitched in irritation—not
at his fellow officers, but regarding the grave situation in which they found
themselves.
Unfortunately, their intentions had
become abundantly clear not six days later, when a large combined task
force had assaulted and taken Deep Space Nine; Cardassian and Jem'Hadar fleets had attacked along a broad front, and from
the minimal, garbled communications Liberty had managed to receive,
Starfleet and the Klingons weren't doing so famously.
Now, well behind enemy lines, the great
vessel crouched and waited.
"Let's take another look,
Sera," the captain instructed.
"Aye,
sir." She touched
at her panel.
The instant they'd received news that
hostilities had broken out, Mantovanni had ordered a long-range scan. Fortune,
in this case, had favored them; while a number of Cardassian and Jem'Hadar warships had been in their range, and
headed in their direction, they were too far to acquire the specific readings
Their foes had simply known there was
something out here.
Then, the great starship had, no doubt before their disbelieving eyes, exploded into
warp and seemingly disappeared.
"The probe is functioning… passive
scans, as per your orders…" the silken voice of Theren
Sih'tarr relayed the information.
"Nothing of significance to note." The Andorian leaned over
his console and quietly told his commander, "I recommend a brief active
sensor sweep. We've learned all we can from subtler forms of data acquisition,
sir."
"How's our hull integrity?"
Mantovanni asked.
"Well, we've optimized our speed
relative to the comet," Sito Jaxa
replied. "The high-velocity particulate impacts are being kept to a
minimum, and our navigational deflectors are handling much of the rest.
"I'm not an engineer, but that
seems rather good for having been concealed in the tail of a comet for 87
hours." M'Raav Hatshepsut stretched with unabashed thoroughness, even as
her captain arched a brow, and her fellow feline growled in slight disapproval.
"I concur with Commander Sih'tarr," Bagheer added. "Let's try an active
scan."
The captain at last nodded, and ordered,
"Make it quick and quiet, Sera."
"Aye,
aye, sir."
Again, the probe, which Mantovanni had ordered
launched at point blank range after they'd slipped into the comet's tail, used
its tiny thrusters at the half-Vulcan's behest. It dipped out of the obscuring
dust and ice, took a brief reading, then hid itself
again.
As soon as MacLeod had completed the
momentary sweep, both her board and Theren's beeped
insistently.
"Vessel contacts…" the
Andorian declared.
"IDs," snarled Bagheer.
"Twelve vessels… four Cardassian
warships, Galor-class, type B or C… seven Jem'Hadar fighters… and another vessel I do not recognize…
our scan was too brief."
Sera immediately supplied,
"Computer extrapolation indicates an 93.4% chance
the vessel is a Federation starship, Auspicious-class."
"'Auspicious-class'?"
echoed Hatshepsut. "I've never heard of those."
The captain's expression was
inscrutable.
"What's their heading?" he
inquired.
Theren continued analyzing the data. Almost a
minute later, he answered, "They're pursuing it into this system. Passive
scans are now sufficient for observational purposes."
"Make certain we're not detected,
Sera," Bagheer warned.
"That is my goal, I assure
you, Commander." Her tone, despite their situation, was amused.
Sito Jaxa, too,
glanced at the information Sera MacLeod continued to deftly gather.
"Her ID call marker makes her… USS Adventurous. She's designated a fast
explorer/light frigate."
"Cardassian courage in
action," snarled Bagheer contemptuously. "Four attack cruisers and
seven fighters hunting down a lone vessel."
"Adventurous is sending out
a distress call," Theren noted.
The captain frowned, infinitesimally.
"Let's hear it."
The Andorian complied.
"…repeat,
this is Captain Erika Donaldson, of the Federation starship Adventurous, to any Starfleet or
allied vessels within range of this transmission: We are being pursued by Cardassian
and Jem'Hadar warships, and require immediate
assistance."
There was, Mantovanni knew, no choice.
"All hands,
stand to battle stations."
Stardate (Terran Common Date):
51009.52 (
Time: 1123
hours, Federation Standard (FST)
Location: Alpha
Quadrant, Sector 21528
Federation Akira-class
heavy cruiser USS Athene, Captain M. Forrest
commanding, responding at maximum warp to distress call from light frigate USS Adventurous
Alert Status:
Red
Christian Richter was excited.
"Shields up, phasers fully powered,
photon torpedoes at your discretion," he reported.
Maitland Forrest, to Richter's surprise,
chuckled.
"Well, ah'm
glad you acknowledge they're at mah
discretion, Lieutenant," Athene's
commander replied, in his distinctive voice. The contrast between Forrest's
Georgia drawl and his tactical officer's German crispness was a constant source
of amusement to much of the vessel's crew, and it was never more apparent than
when battle was inevitable: Both accents became even more pronounced in the
heat of the moment.
"This is, essentially,
suicide," opined Maria Petrova. Athene's X-O possessed in abundance that almost
comic fatalism most White Russians seemed to be issued at birth. In contrast to
her commander and fellow officer, though, her accent disappeared when
trouble beckoned.
"That's probably true," agreed
Forrest. "We don't have much choice, though. Just our bad luck Adventurous
needs help. Otherwise, we might have made it back to our own lines."
Helmsman Arianna
Vren announced, "Our movement towards the system
has been detected; a trio of Galor-class
cruisers are coming about, along with four of the seven Jem'Hadar attack ships.
Richter checked his own readouts, and
observed, "Adventurous is turning to fight."
"Damn," Forrest muttered. "Don't they
realize this is their chance to get away?"
"You didn't ignore their
distress call," Petrova pointed out. "What
would make you think they'd leave us to our fate?"
"Good point," he admitted;
then his voice hardened. "Still, it'd be nice not to lose two
perfectly good ships. Mr. Richter, attack pattern theta. Let's hurt 'em as much as we can 'afore we go down."
In the seconds before every vessel he
could see opened fire, Maitland Forrest remembered
something his grandfather used to say after he'd been caught out misbehaving in
his youth.
The old man would crook his finger, and
say, "Come and get your whuppin', boy."
I'm just glad he's not here to see this one.
***
Adventurous rocked as the Jem'Hadar
fighters struck at her, hard.
"What the hell…?" Erika yelled, even as she was thrown from her seat. "Where are my shields?"
Pashta yowled in frustration.
"They're using some sort of polaron beams… cut through our screens like they weren't
even there! Damage to our impulse engines, and hull breaches
on decks eight and 11."
The Cardassian cruiser slowed to
exchange broadsides. It opened fire with its spiral-wave disruptors; the gunner
was proficient, and he or she was dead on target.
The good news was that Adventurous'
shields were effective against these weapons.
The bad news was that a single salvo
hurt them a lot more than Erika would've thought possible.
The bridge was already a smoking mess.
"Shields are at 57%! The Jem'Hadar are coming around
again!" Pashta growled.
Erika gritted her teeth and dragged
herself back to the center seat. Her ribs hurt, a lot. "Concentrate your
attacks on one fighter, Pashta. All weapons,
fire!"
Adventurous was at bay, but not without teeth: Her
phaser burst, along with the three remaining photons, struck home; and the Jem'Hadar attack ship exploded into a fast dissipating ball
of plasma.
"One enemy target destroyed!"
announced Doug Roese in triumph.
Their brief moment of exultation was
just that.
It was then the squad of Jem'Hadar soldiers beamed onto the bridge.
***
Matt Forrest had the satisfaction of
watching Athene's formidable weapons array
take out a pair of Jem'Hadar attack ships in the
opening instants of the battle.
That feeling lasted approximately one
second—until their foes' riposte hit them in turn.
His beloved lady turned nearly on her dorsal, as she was struck by a brace
of spiral wave disruptor beams and a pair of polaron
strikes. She weathered it… but not unscathed.
"Shields down to 68%," Richter
told him. "Damage to starboard nacelle."
"Engineering reports no warp drive
for at least an hour," Petrova added.
Desperately, Arianna
Vren whipped her charge into a turn the designers
never intended a ship's helmsman to even conceptualize, let alone attempt;
against all logic, she managed to present their foes the least damaged area of
the shields, even as they targeted the Starfleet vessel a second time.
Again, Athene
held firm… but she was in real trouble, and her captain knew it.
"Screens at 37%," Richter
reported. "Our forward photon launchers are offline."
"Phasers… fire!"
Forrest yelled.
It was an impressive display of force, but
their target, a Jem'Hadar fighter, had anticipated
the blow, and slipped behind one of the Cardassian cruisers. It took the blast…
and handled it far more readily than would have the smaller ship.
"Their shields are holding," Petrova noted bitterly.
Matt Forrest, with his tactician's eye,
knew the battle was already lost.
He began to consider how many ships he
could take with him if he were to use Athene's
self-destruct.
***
Adventurous' crew hadn't even been armed when this
began.
They were regretting that.
The Jem'Hadar
soldiers each fired a single round with their rifles. Two of them missed their
targets as they dove for cover, but Erika gasped in horror as a pair of her
officers—Carole Talbot and Doug Roese—both fell.
Pashta leapt from his place at tactical,
screaming in fury, and landed between a pair of the intruders. He slashed out
with his claws and struck home, twice: The first staggered back, right arm
hanging loosely at his side; the other dropped like a stone, his throat a
bloody mess.
T'Lise had risen from her seat. One of the Jem'Hadar swung the butt of his rifle at her, but she
stepped into it, and caught the blow. Now they were in a contest of strength.
Erika couldn't tell who was winning.
Another Jem'Hadar
came for Adventurous' captain, eschewing his rifle in favor of personal
combat. Desperately, despite her cracked ribs, she tried to ready herself for
his charge; but he was too strong, too fast and too skilled for her. She
blocked his first punch, and, barely, his second; but the third connected
solidly with the left side of her face and spun her completely around. A second
later, she found herself flat on her back, stunned and nearly unconscious.
From what felt to Erika like a great
distance, she watched the Jem'Hadar draw his bladed
weapon to finish her.
As he knelt to execute the grisly task,
her head lolled to one side; and with a purely clinical interest, she watched
the view screen.
Huh… that's not supposed to be happening, she
thought dreamily.
It was the last thing she noted before
darkness claimed her.
***
"Shields
at 21 percent! Port
maneuvering thruster is gone!"
These sons of bitches are not going to board us, Matt
Forrest decided.
"Computer, destruct order… Captain Maitland Forrest, code omega fiver nine seven. 15
second countdown."
With an entirely inappropriate calm, Athene's mainframe inquired, "Does the first officer concur?"
Through a haze of smoke, Christian
Richter could see that Maria Petrova, slumped over in
her chair, was in no condition to agree.
"Computer, this is Lieutenant
Richter, acting X-O… I concur."
Even as the Cardassians came around for
another pass—a final pass—Forrest began, "Initiate coun–…"
What he saw in that moment made him
stop.
Both here, and in the more distant
battle, the remaining Jem'Hadar fighters were
suddenly blasted into their component molecules, the surprised recipients of an
attack from an unknown quarter. The Cardassian cruiser hovering near Adventurous
was flung into a spin by a series of heavy phaser strikes that first reduced
her shields, and then holed her in the port quarter. She limped away as best
she could.
"Awaiting final command for fifteen
second countdown," the computer patiently reminded him.
"Stand by!" he roared. "Where
the hell did that fire come from?"
"I can't tell, sir!" Richter
cried.
Evidently, the Cardassians couldn't
either. Two began a turn to port, in an effort to seek out their new enemy. The
third, interestingly enough, came about in precisely the opposite direction.
"Cancel destruct order,"
Forrest laughed. Suddenly, he knew. He knew.
"Target the trailing cruiser in the
pair. Divert all power to phasers."
Richter, by some miracle, managed it.
"Ready!"
This time, when their friendly ghost
appeared, they got a better look at her.
"Federation starship, Sovereign-class!"
the German roared. "She's firing another full spread of quantum
torpedoes!"
The new combatant again followed this
with her heavy forward phaser array. Both Galor-class
vessels were hammered. They would have survived, albeit moderately damaged, but
for Athene’'s punch from astern. The second
cruiser took an unfortunate hit to her fusion reactors; when she exploded, her
sister ship was far too close to do anything but join her in destruction.
***
"We won't be able to overtake the
undamaged Galor-class vessel before she leaves
the system, captain," Sito Jaxa
informed him disappointedly. "She's seconds away now." Even as they
watched, helpless to prevent it, the last surviving Cardassian cruiser jumped
to warp, and was gone.
"Bring us about," the captain
ordered. "I don't want the other one getting away."
There was no real danger of that. Scans
determined that the remaining enemy vessel had lost warp capability when she
was holed; radiation had permeated the entire port quarter and was slowly
extending its tendrils into the remainder of the ship.
As
"Athene
has moderate damage," she relayed, "but nothing irreparable, even in
deep space. Adventurous seems to…" she hesitated for an instant,
then added, concerned, "…sir, I believe she's fighting a Jem'Hadar boarding party. I read weapons fire in
engineering and on the bridge."
Mantovanni snapped, "Theren, you and Aldus take an away team over there and
secure that ship."
"Aye, sir!" he acknowledged. The
Andorian was already issuing orders as he started for the turbolift.
"Nine seconds to weapons range on
the lead Cardassian vessel," declared Bagheer; he'd immediately assumed
tactical on Theren's departure.
Despite the situation, the captain
grinned inwardly.
Can't fight your instincts, eh, my
friend?
"Hail them."
His X-O complied. "Channel
open."
"Cardassian vessel,"
Mantovanni began, "this is the Federation starship
Most of
A Cardassian male sagged in his command
chair, left arm held at a rather sickening angle; he coughed, and flecks of
blood peppered his remaining functional forelimb.
"I am Gul
Jasad, of the Cardassian Eleventh Order." The
next words seemed literally torn from him.
"We… surrender."
***
Theren Sih'tarr hadn't
particularly cared whether or not the Jem'Hadar
aboard Adventurous surrendered. Truth be told, he probably preferred it
the way it had occurred: He was an Andorian, from a warrior culture, after all,
and killing the enemies of the Federation frankly appealed to him.
The suppression force
Considering the startling lack of damage
Aldus had reported from his vantage point down there, it was clear to both men
that their foes' orders had been to secure Adventurous for study, if
possible. When the marines and security personnel had arrived and changed the
odds in a matter of seconds, they'd had no chance to alter tactics and destroy
the ship before being overwhelmed.
Theren took a final glance around the bridge,
and then moved down into the pit, where a flame-haired human medical officer
was tending what appeared to be her captain.
"Lieutenant
Commander Theren Sih'tarr,
USS Liberty."
"Shana Arland, CMO, USS Adventurous," the woman
responded, without glancing up. "Captain Donaldson will regain
consciousness just about…"
Eyelids fluttered open.
"…now," Arland
finished, grinning briefly.
Erika struggled to a sitting position.
"I saw Doug and Carole go down." Her expression was almost pleading.
Arland touched her shoulder, gently.
"Doug is right over there. His arm
will need some regen, but he'll be fine.
"Carole… well…" Shana didn't have the heart to continue.
Donaldson almost slumped back to the
floor.
"Oh, God… I went through the
Academy with her older sister, Elizabeth. I promised I'd bring her home safe…."
the anger and frustration building in the captain's voice threatened to explode
outward.
Doug Roese, seeing her awake, had approached. He knelt and offered his own sympathy.
The Andorian gave them as long as he
could, then spoke.
"Sorrow for your loss,
Captain," Theren interrupted softly.
"Respectfully, though, we need to get Adventurous underway as soon
as possible. No doubt the Cardassians will come looking for us in a few hours
or days, and we won't be surprising them, this time."
As they helped Donaldson to her feet,
her chair comm panel beeped.
"Engineering
to bridge… good news! You now have warp nine at your
discretion."
The statement hung in the air for a full
three seconds.
Theren nodded in approval—unaware that his
fellows from Adventurous would see it a little differently.
Shana Arland
frowned.
Doug Roese
collapsed into his chair, laughing almost hysterically.
"Now we have warp nine. That's just great."
Erika Donaldson put her head in her
hands.
"Thanks,
"Captains Forrest and Donaldson
have come aboard, sir, along with their executive officers, Commanders Maria Petrova and Douglas Roese,
respectively."
Mantovanni nodded. "Thank you,
Commander. See that they're escorted to the observation lounge. Did you collate
that information I requested?"
She handed him a PADD. "Aye, sir. It's all there."
"I want you to start thinking about
ways to extend the sensitivity and range of our sensors even more, Sera. We
need some sort of advantage if we're going to stay alive out here."
The half-Vulcan acknowledged him with a
simple, distracted, "Yes, sir."
The Sicilian rose, and motioned for
Bagheer to follow.
"Theren,
you have the bridge. If our long range sensors even flicker, you're to notify
me immediately."
The Andorian avowed, "Understood,
Captain," and settled into the command chair.
"Always speak to the most
intelligent person in the room, eh, Commander?" Mantovanni observed
drolly.
Not to be outdone, his X-O replied,
"You taught me that."
At that moment, Sito
entered briefly and announced the arrival of their guests.
Here, then, were the legendary Maitland
Forrest… and the infamous Erika Donaldson.
Athene's commanding officer was the very picture of Southern gentility, an
appearance Mantovanni had heard he'd begun affecting when he was awarded his
first command: He wore a topcoat variant to his captain's uniform, in the style
of the old Confederate cavalry; along with his neatly trimmed brown beard and
penetrating eyes, he cut quite the striking figure.
His first officer, Petrova,
was tall, slender, and attractive, with pale skin, long, straight brown hair
pinned in an economical bun and a gaze as intense as her captain's.
Despite her good looks, though, she
seemed almost dowdy compared to Erika Donaldson.
Adventurous' commander was the very personification
of a stunning redhead, statuesque and with a scowl less perceptive men no doubt
mistook for a calculated pout. Her hair, too, was pulled back away from her
face; this only accentuated the woman's near perfect features.
Roese, her X-O, was no doubt accustomed to
men gaping at his captain; Mantovanni noticed the man glancing carefully, first
at Forrest and then back to him, gauging each one's responses.
Forrest became aware of the scrutiny
almost instantly, and carefully, courteously averted his gaze.
Roese smirked, and glanced back…
…only to find
himself eye-to-eye with Mantovanni.
"We'll save the pleasantries for
some other time, ladies and gentlemen," he announced coolly; Roese attempted to match him for a moment, then decided a look around at the observation lounge might
do him good.
Smart boy, Mantovanni thought. "Please, all
of you, sit down."
When they were settled, Liberty's
captain began with, "From what Commander MacLeod's been able to determine,
the Cardassian Eleventh and Twelfth Orders, along with two wings of Jem'Hadar fighters and their base Dominion battle cruisers,
are between us and the Federation fleet."
"Is that all?" drawled
Forrest. "Sounds like a walk in the park, to me."
Petrova smiled slightly at her captain's
bravado. Donaldson's expression remained carefully neutral, while Roese disguised his disapproval only with difficulty.
Mantovanni noted it, but continued with
his briefing.
"Worse
than that… we're not alone out here. When this war began, a small number of Starfleet and allied vessels were
caught behind enemy lines. Our three ships have managed to come together...
others no doubt haven't been so lucky.
"I imagine the task force we
defeated was under orders to search out and destroy any Federation or Klingon
stragglers it came across, in order to secure the rear."
"Damned unfortunate that last
Cardassian ship got away," muttered Forrest. "They'll at least have
an idea of where to start searching for us."
"Captain Mantovanni, what are you
proposing we do?" inquired Donaldson. Her expression indicated that Erika
thought she'd already anticipated what his answer would be.
She quickly learned just how wrong she
was.
"We're going to assemble every
Allied ship out here on the wrong side of things…" he paused, and the
gathered officers, as one, leaned forward intently.
"…and then we're going to take this
war right where the Cardassians and Dominion don't want it—their
territory."
His announcement was first greeted with
a stunned silence—which was then broken by an incredulous response.
"That's not feasible,"
asserted Doug Roese. "How many ships could we
scrape together? Five? Ten? A
dozen, if we're phenomenally lucky? From what I've been reading of
recent history, the Cardassian Union and Dominion have thousands of
ships to throw at the Federation. We're not even a pinprick against
forces like that. They'll squash us like flies."
"We aren't looking for military
confrontations, Commander," Mantovanni answered quietly. "Instead,
our goal is to be a colossal pain in the ass. The more vessels the Dominion and
Cardassians divert to guarding against us, and hunting
us down, the less will be used against targets in Federation space."
"What about gathering the ships we
can and running for the border?" Donaldson asked.
Maitland Forrest stroked his beard.
"On the surface, that's a temptin' idea, but ah see Captain Mantovanni's point: The
closer we get to the main lines, on the wrong side, the more likely we're hit
by 50, 75, 100 enemy ships… and if that happens, it's all she
wrote."
Petrova added her voice to the discussion.
"What you're proposing would be
quite a task, sir. We have no support from starbases,
no supplies, no real refuge; if things go badly for
us, we're essentially dead in the water… or the vacuum, if you prefer.”
She finished with a significant,
"Of course, that's assuming we're even able to find any other
ships."
"A huge if," added Roese. A moment later, he demanded, in a tone just the safe
side of insubordinate, "And who, may I ask, Captain Mantovanni,
would be in charge of this little fleet were it to become a reality?"
Though she shot her X-O a warning glare,
Erika Donaldson's eyes also flashed angrily. "You seem to be implying
you've already made the decision, Captain. If you are, I have to point
out that my orders were cut by Vice Admiral Rodriguez of Starfleet Research,
and that he's my direct supervisor until we've returned to a Federation
outpost. You're attempting, quite frankly, to exceed your authority."
The silence in the room wasn't a
companionable one.
"According to Starfleet
regulations," Mantovanni
answered with quiet determination, "the captain in charge of
the tactically superior vessel assumes authority over any task force.
"Command would fall to me—and after
me, Captain Forrest."
"That assumes a task force exists,"
Roese answered hotly. "At the moment, it doesn't."
Mantovanni stood.
"In a time such as this, strategic
considerations have priority over other concerns. It's our responsibility as
officers in Federation service to sell ourselves and our ships as dearly as
possible, and give Starfleet every opportunity to win this war. And that's just
what we're going to do."
It was only then that Luciano Mantovanni
leveled the full force of his gaze at Douglas Roese. Adventurous'
first officer stared back defiantly, but it was abundantly clear he was on the
losing end of the duel.
"As to your observations, Commander
Roese, you're correct. Thus, I'll remedy those
concerns immediately." He swept the room with a forbidding glare. "As
of this moment, you can all consider yourselves part of an ad hoc task
force… because I said you are."
The figurative chill in the room was
such that one could nearly see everyone's breath.
"Captains Donaldson and Forrest,
please remain a few moments. Commander Bagheer, please escort your fellow first
officers to transporter room four. You two," Mantovanni focused on Petrova and Roese, "will
report back to your respective bridges, and stand by for orders.
"Dismissed."
Bagheer, of course, rose immediately;
each of the others glanced first to their own captain. As one, Forrest and
Donaldson nodded.
Neither looked overly pleased, though Athene's commander seemed to have weathered the last
few moments better than Erika Donaldson had. She glared furiously at the man
who'd just claimed authority over her and hers—but for the moment, held her
tongue.
When only the three captains remained,
Mantovanni sat again.
"If you don't mind my sayin', Captain," Forrest observed, in tone that
indicated he really didn't care whether Mantovanni minded or not,
"my grandma tol' me once or twice that you get
more flies with sugah than you do with vinegah."
"Succinct,
but profound, Captain. No doubt those words were the catalyst for that honeyed tongue of
yours."
Forrest smiled broadly, and dipped his head
in slight concession.
"Much betta. I was beginnin' to think you'd had your sense
o' humor surgically removed." He chuckled at his own witticism, and winked
rather roguishly at Erika Donaldson—who wasn't amused at either the joke or
the gesture.
"I have," Mantovanni parried.
"It's grown back on three separate occasions." He leaned back in his
chair, his eyes flicking back and forth to each of his counterparts.
"Though the regulations,
technically, are on my side, it's obvious I can't do this without your consent.
If either of you have an idea you consider better than what I've put forth, I'm
willing to set aside my own and adopt yours."
"A good ol'
fashioned cavalry raid is somethin' near and dear to mah heart… as no doubt you've guessed." Athene's captain grinned. "I might have gone
about it with a bit more… tact… than you did, but I've no real
alternative options, or substantive objections."
Erika Donaldson wasn't as convinced. She
rubbed at her temples, as if trying to stave off a headache.
"Frankly, I think there is a
lot to be said for splitting up and taking our chances. There's something about
the inevitability of our deaths I don't like about this plan."
Mantovanni inclined his head, and
gestured off-handedly. "It does have a certain fatalistic element to it, I
agree. But that has more to do with circumstance than desire.
"I'll tell you what, Captain
Donaldson," he continued. "It's my understanding that your engineer
is still having extreme difficulty in getting your experimental engines back
online."
"Don't worry about that… if anyone
can restore our transwarp capability, it's
"No doubt you're correct,"
Mantovanni reassured her. "I was actually assuming that would be
the case.
"At any rate," he added, as
she frowned, "I imagine the Federation would find Adventurous'
return to be a tremendous morale boost. Further, you've gathered immense
amounts of astronomical and other scientific data which should be preserved at
any cost… and, as a group, must all be near your limit of physical and
emotional endurance."
Then he surprised them both.
"If Commander Maxwell gets your
engines back on line, Adventurous is free to go."
That offer left Donaldson gaping in confused
astonishment.
Maitland Forrest knew a break in the
action when he saw it.
"With your permission, Commodore, I'd like to supervise the
remainder of Athene’s repairs…"
Mantovanni nodded, rather stiffly.
Forrest's nickname was likely to stick, and he wasn't certain he wanted an
entire circle of officers calling him "Commodore."
Of course, Matt Forrest had known that. It was why he'd done it.
"Captain Donaldson," the
dashing officer drawled, "Truly a pleasure… I must say that I selfishly
hope you don't leave, and deprive our unlucky little fleet of your breathtakin' presence."
Before she could frame an appropriately
dismissive retort, he turned and took his leave.
For a long moment after his departure,
Erika Donaldson and Luciano Mantovanni regarded each other in silence.
"This is not going to
work," she finally, emphatically declared. "You're going to get a lot
of people killed, for no gain."
Her counterpart never blinked.
"Then get out while the getting is
good, Captain."
A moment later, Erika realized she'd
been invited to leave… both the task force and the observation lounge.
Wordlessly, she did the latter—with
every intention of doing the former, as well.
***
"Good thing Liberty
happened to be in the area."
Douglas Roese
had stated his sentiment with a bit too much enthusiasm—as if his motive had been
other than to express gratitude.
Maria Petrova
looked somewhat askance at his comment, but said nothing.
Where's he going with this? she
thought, curious.
"I mean, she appeared in the nick
of time, in a most heroic fashion, wouldn't you agree, Commander Petrova?"
Bagheer, thus far, had remained silent,
but she could hear a near subsonic growl beginning in the back of his throat.
Either her hearing was better than her Adventurous counterpart's… or he
was simply heedless of the peril he was courting.
Quickly, Maria tried to head off the
confrontation.
"When she did appear, though… wow!
I was impressed," she enthused. "The Sovereign-class is a
formidable weapon."
Roese was having none of it.
"And so judiciously
utilized, as well," he continued. "She appeared, shattered the
opposing fleet, and rescued both other ships… while having to absorb not even a
single hit."
Bozhe moi, thought Petrova. Shut up, you fool. Do you have any idea
of who and what you're provoking?
"I can't wait for our next encounter
with the Cardassians… it'll be interesting to see whether Captain Mantovanni's
strategies will call for Liberty to actually take part in the
battle, as opposed to just mopping up."
Without a word, Maria Petrova stepped to one side of the turbolift.
An instant after she'd done so, Douglas Roese learned an interesting fact about the Tzenkethi: Much
like Terran lions, they could roar… and when they did, it sounded like a
collapsing building. The sound paralyzed him for a moment, and by the time he
could move again, he found himself pinned most uncomfortably against the wall
of the car, the angry face of Rajah Bagheer looming before him.
"Question my captain's
courage or his honor again, Commander, and I shall test your Dr. Arland's skills at surgical prestidigitation—by
disemboweling you.
"Do I make myself fully
understood?"
Slowly, carefully, Roese
nodded: Bagheer's formidable jaws were inches from
his head, and the Tzenkethi's claws were placed, in
what seemed almost casual ease, on Doug's right shoulder… and against his gut.
"Commander Bagheer," Petrova suggested quietly, "perhaps Commander Roese and I should report to transporter room four
ourselves. There's no need for you to bother escorting us."
It was almost as if one Bagheer had been
quietly tucked away, and replaced with another: He abruptly released an
obviously relieved Roese, stepped back, and purred
agreeably, "A most gracious offer, Commander Petrova.
Computer, let me out at the next deck."
The turbolift stopped, then opened at his
behest… and he stalked out of the car without another word.
Douglas Roese
wore the stunned visage of a man who'd survived a near-death
experience—probably because he just had. Then, his expression grew into that
admixture of anger and fright that usually comes with the realization of what
had almost occurred.
"That son-of-a-bitch is as crazy as
his megalomaniac captain. Well, we'll just see how he likes assault
charges."
"I wouldn't bother," answered Petrova, as the turbolift slowed a second time, and
deposited them on the proper deck.
"What do you mean? You don't think
he's out of control?" Roese demanded
indignantly.
Petrova proceeded towards transporter room
four, her companion trailing a few paces behind.
"No," she threw over her
shoulder. "I just think you'll have a hard time proving assault…" She
then turned suddenly back; Roese almost ran into her.
For a moment, they were face-to-face.
She made her point clear.
"…because I didn't see a damned
thing. I suggest you keep your insinuations to yourself, because next time, I
won't be there… and Bagheer may just kill you before his good sense overrides
his instincts."
Incredibly, she took another step
forward: Now they were nose-to-nose.
"And don't imagine I missed your
little glares at Captain Forrest, either. You think the Tzenkethi is bad, huh?
You just look the wrong way again at my commander, and when I'm
through with you, you'll wish that Bagheer had cut you to ribbons."
Roese shook his head in amused disapproval.
"Tough girl, aren't you?"
She turned away and headed back for the
transporter.
The last thing Maria Petrova
said to him was, "Keep it up and you'll find out."
***
Erika Donaldson angrily crossed
She'd just passed the tactical station
when the red alert klaxon sounded.
Sih'tarr immediately reported, "Vessel decloaking directly ahead."
Everyone on the bridge watched, almost
spellbound, as the image solidified into that of a Klingon warship.
One of their K'vort-class Birds-of-Prey, she noted, still startled at its
appearance.
Luciano Mantovanni emerged from the
observation lounge, and noted the newcomer's presence.
"They're hailing us, sir," the
Andorian informed him.
"On screen," Mantovanni
ordered.
The officer who appeared sneered
companionably, and announced, "I am Krajak. I
command the K'Char. We are here to join our
might to yours.
"Who do we kill first?"
"What do you think, Captain
Donaldson?" Luciano Mantovanni asked her pointedly. "Is he joining
us… or replacing you?"
Erika Donaldson cursed silently to
herself.
It's a sign, she thought.
I hate signs.
But I sure as hell don't ignore them.
"We kill whoever he tells us
to kill, Captain Krajak," she answered.
The Klingon grinned wickedly. He seemed
to like that response.
Adventurous' commander found herself thinking both
of Matt Forrest's reference to luck and the iconoclastic nature that had gotten
her into trouble on far too many occasions.
She almost held her tongue—but not
quite.
Oh, what's one more time gonna hurt?
"By the way, Captain Krajak," she said, smiling, "welcome to the 13th
Fleet."
Epilogue
Gul Kirith Ocett glowered from ICV Narad's
center seat; and none aboard her fleeing starship dared disturb her.
Almost, she threw the PADD she held
across the room, but remembered her dignity in the last moment before the
action, and reconsidered.
Jasad is a fool, and his stupidity has cost
us an entire task force.
Ocett's thoughts again turned to the exchange
with her supposed "superior" that had resulted in this unfortunate,
unnecessary turn of events.
It had been ten days past: The battle
group had scented a prey for which its commanders could hardly have hoped—what
their long range sensors had interpreted as one of Starfleet's new Sovereign-class
starships. She'd been out here, alone, unescorted, on the wrong side of the
battle lines—isolated from any assistance.
Unfortunately, it seemed as if their
target had gotten wind of them even sooner. She'd come about and dashed
into warp even as the ships of Task Force Three, Cardassian Eleventh Order, had
turned to follow.
It was then that the trouble had begun.
Jasad, who'd been designated their commander
for the duration of the mission, had decided that chasing the Federation
battleship was a useless endeavor.
"The Obsidian Order has learned
that these Sovereign-class vessels are swifter than anything possessed
by the Cardassian Union, or even the Dominion." His slight
disdainful emphasis on the last word was sufficient to be noticeable, but not
enough to constitute open contempt. The Vorta
assigned to their mission, Shalra, had chosen to
ignore it and remain silent.
"Thus, we shall continue our search
pattern, rather than pursuing her."
The other three cruiser commanders had
nodded in agreement; one, Ramar, had even gone so far
as to obsequiously praise Jasad's wisdom.
Ocett had been the lone dissenter.
"We have an opportunity to hunt
down and destroy one of the Federation's preeminent combat vessels," she'd
challenged. "If we contact Task Force Two, and you can persuade Gul Macet to deploy carefully, we
should be able to surround this Sovereign-class ship and force her into
battle… but only if we pursue her now."
"Divert two entire task
forces to the destruction of a single ship?" He'd been incredulous.
"No… this vessel can outrun us, and no doubt has already done so.
We shall continue to flush enemies we can actually catch, Gul Ocett." There'd been a
chuckle or two from the assembled guls and glinns.
She'd known Jasad
from the time they'd studied together under the legendary Gul
Marek.
Ocett hadn't been impressed then,
either.
"You will log my opposition to your
opinion, Task Force Leader Jasad." When she
used contempt, Kirith Ocett
didn't bother disguising it.
He'd gritted his teeth, and nodded. As
far as he was concerned, though, the conversation, and the
incident, were past.
Not so for the gul
whose advice he'd dismissed.
Alone of the vessels in the assault
group, she'd focused the vast majority of Narad's
long range sensor array in the direction which their quarry had disappeared.
Once or twice, readings had indicated something might be out there, but
they were never conclusive enough to begin the argument anew. Still, she'd
persisted in her attempts; her crew never doubted her discernment, even when
the scans had proven inconclusive.
Then, a day ago, Jasad's
ship, the Vekat, had detected an Auspicious-class
Federation starship headed home… and the task force had moved to intercept it.
As luck would have it, another Starfleet
vessel, the third they'd encountered, had appeared in response to her fellow's
cry for help, and both Jem'Hadar and Cardassian had
anticipated the opportunity to hone their skills in a battle the outcome of
which wasn't in doubt.
Ocett, however, was still obsessed with the
one that had gotten away.
Jasad had actually dared to seem patronizing
when she'd hailed him during the last moments before the battle.
"What of the Sovereign-class
ship we spotted some days ago?" she'd demanded. "Should we not at
least consider the possibility it is in the area?"
"You are like a vole with a choice
morsel, Ocett. You've had no readings… the ship has
no cloaking device, since the Federation is too honorable to break their agreement
with the Romulans.
"It is long gone."
And so, they'd committed, maneuvering
optimally and in such a fashion as to expose the Jem'Hadar—after
all, dying to preserve Cardassians was an ideal use for their
"allies"—while minimizing their own peril.
The combat had gone as predicted…
…until Ocett's
worst nightmare had come to pass.
From what had seemed to be literally
nowhere, a veritable hail of quantum torpedoes had destroyed their Jem'Hadar escort in a matter of seconds. Narad's sensor officer, who'd remained faithful to
her commander's uncertainty, spotted the source of the attack in seconds.
"It is the Sovereign-class, Gul! I believe she was concealed within the comet's
tail!"
In the seconds she had to evaluate the
sudden change in their tactical situation, Kirith Ocett had weighed loyalty to her fellow Cardassians against
the need to notify Central Command that a Federation fast battleship was loose behind
their lines.
"Have the sensor information
relayed to the other ships, Glinn Tremar…
helm, come to 147, mark 03. Full impulse!"
Tremar, from his expression, had been shocked
at her decision, but had made no protest: Ocett's
second-in-command had long ago learned that her decisions were invariably
correct.
Even as they'd fled the scene of battle,
they'd watched, and recorded, its result.
It had been swift. The newcomer's
display of power had been… impressive. USS Liberty's intervention
had not only saved the other Federation starships, it had crushed a task force
specifically assembled to deal with just such a situation… and it had done so
with a cunning and ruthlessness Ocett had never seen
from a Federation commander.
Quickly, she'd consulted her Obsidian
Order dossiers, searching for information on
Now, as she read, Ocett
wasn't at all liking what she found.
I underestimated you, Jasad.
The scope of your stupidity hadn't been
revealed. We had an opportunity to eliminate one of Starfleet's best military
minds, and you didn't
think it wise.
Imbecile. This Mantovanni isn't a 24th century officer. He's
a refugee from when Starfleet was a true military organization, strong
and proud; moreover, he's a war hawk, a trained killer. You could have asked
the Romulans about that.
Now, he's free to run, with a pair of
escorts, and a vessel whose capabilities at which we can only guess.
She laughed aloud then, harshly. It was
a noise that made one or two of her bridge officers cringe; her bitter sense of
humor wasn't something any of them, even Ocett
herself, truly enjoyed.
No doubt Central Command will be quite pleased at this turn of events.
First blood to you, Captain Mantovanni, she acknowledged. However, you will
see me again.
And rue the day you do.