Section 31, huh? Weren't they more worried about the Romulans? Or did they just want to get rid of the Klingons once and for all? did the events of Nemesis make the Romulans no longer an issue or is it because they have people in the Senate already?

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

Chapter 10

It was always a surprise to me how handling seemingly boring details became quite interesting once the shooting started. During peacetime I could hardly wait until the next tactical exercise. Now that we were in a shooting war again what was still called paper work by some had become far more interesting to me. Of course at the moment I was mostly dealing with repair reports from engineering. The Venture would be in dock at least a month once we got back to Sol. The Klingons had even managed to put a hole straight through the engineering section, just below the main impulse engine. Matt Sands had cursed for a full three minutes when he saw how close the damage had come to breaking the primary support struts and cutting the ship in half. That would have killed the ship, but thankfully the struts had only been scorched when the disruptor blast had passed through. Other parts of the ship where not as lucky. Ten Forward had joined a couple dozen other compartments as shrapnel flying around the Beta Sceptri system. I signed off on Matt’s repair report noting how little he was planning on doing, since we were so close to Sol and the Utopia Planitia ship yard.

Included in a planning update from HQ had been a plan to alter the Venture even more than last time we had been in dock. Someone had decided that the empty space left by the lack of families and the reduced science compliment could be used for more support and tactical facilities. Three new holodecks, two shuttle bays, designed exclusively for Marine assault shuttles, and a of miscellaneous tactical systems were to be installed once we reached Sol. I sighed at the prospect of ever having the ship stay in one piece long enough to really get to know her and opened up the next report in my in box.

An updated watch schedule from Lieutenant Swanson. More than just parts of the ship had been blasted out into space or otherwise destroyed during the battle. Sixty eight crew members had died during the battle and sick bay was overflowing with critically wounded. Everyone was working overtime to fill the holes left by lost friends and crew mates. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my face as I thought of how much worse it could have been if we still deployed with families on board. Quite a few of the compartments destroyed during the fighting had been empty crew quarters. Empty only because we had left our loved ones behind. The policy was not new of course. After the Borg incursions and the Dominion War it had become painfully clear that families had no place on board Starfleet vessels on deployment. To many lives had been shattered not only from the fury and chaos of combat but from simple accidents. I shook my head of the familiar thoughts and turned back to the reports. But I had barely found where I had left off when the chime on my office door rang out.

“Enter.” I called, while looking up at the door. Interesting or not I could use a break from the seemingly endless reports on my console. The door opened to admit Lieutenant Swanson. She was carrying a PADD and I raised an eyebrow at her. “More reports for me Lieutenant? I was just going through your updated watch schedule.”

“Yes sir. I brought the final report on the investigation of the brawl in Ten Forward.” I waved at the chair in front of my desk.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant, and lets see what you have.” She handed me the report and sat down in the offered chair. Marie looked like she hadn’t slept in a while, not that anyone else on the ship had gotten much sleep in the week since we left the Beta Sceptri system. Filing my concern away for the future I opened the fresh report she had brought me. Quickly scanning through it I got to the conclusions at the base of the report. It seemed that Lieutenant Felbardek had shown less care than usual in selecting targets he could safely antagonize. The Marines seemed to have been ignoring the Lieutenant and his partners jeers for quite some time before they lost their temper. After that it had been all over but the bleeding, apparently. Captain Nakhoda had not been happy with her Marines in this case and they were still confined to quarters two full weeks after the incident in question. They had also both been banned from all forms of alcohol for the remainder of the deployment. Lieutenant Felbardek and his friend had been handled by Matt Sands and were doing extra duty down in waste reclamation. Possibly the worst duty on the ship, or at least the smelliest. I looked up at, Marie.

“Your satisfied with how this turned out, Lieutenant?”

“Yes sir. I doubt we'll have any additional problems of this nature. But there are other incidents involving the Marines and regular crew do get me worried from time to time sir. I know why the Marines are deployed as they are during alerts, but I have had to smooth over quite a few ruffled feathers down in security. My security people do not like the idea that they are not good enough to keep their traditional guard posts. I’m handling it so far, but there is a risk of us having an incident or two before everyone has settled down into their new roles sir.” She shrugged at her lack of full control over the situation. I was not particularly surprised by the regular security forces reaction. I could easily imagine having much the same reaction if I had been in their position.

“We will just have to handle it, Lieutenant. Let me know if you run into anything unexpected, or just need some help.” I looked down at the notes I had called up for this meeting, looking for whatever I had missed. Finding nothing I looked up at the Lieutenant with a slight smile. “I think that's all, Lieutenant. Unless you have something else on your mind.”

For a moment she looked acutely uncomfortable. It was quite clear that whatever she had in mind she was not looking forward to discussing with me. Suspecting what was on her mind, and knowing that it was something that had to be dealt with eventually I said.

“I assume you are referring to the problem between, Counselor Grigorii and myself, Lieutenant?” She looked up at me and nodded.

“Yes sir. There are some rumors going around the ship about the altercation between the two of you, sir.” I nodded in response and motioned for her to continue. “I could prepare a full report of my observations to you, sir.” She ended on a slightly hopeful note. I could understand her reluctance to say anything without being properly prepared first. As we were two of the officers that would sign off on her fitness reports. Her tone suggested that there was a real problem starting to form on the ship however. A problem that was my responsibility to deal with.

“Just give me a quick summary now, Lieutenant. But have that report to me by this evening.” She swallowed gently and nodded while she collected her thoughts.

“Well, sir as I said there are some rumors going around the ship about the argument between, yourself and, Commander Grigorii. No one has got any real facts, but as you know that has never stopped rumors before. Mostly the rumors are about the precise details of your argument. What prompted the argument, if you came to blows and so forth. One of the rumors that have come to my attention about the reason behind the argument is disturbing me. My personnel report that this particular rumor has spread quite far and it seems to be gaining strength. Most of the rumors have died out by themselves within a day or two but this one just keeps gaining strength, sir.”

I did not like the sound of that. Rumors on a Starship are as common as bulkheads and normally not something to worry about. This one seemed to be building into a real problem though. I knew about the rumors of course. A couple of the Senior Chiefs had mentioned them to me earlier in the week. But having a department head come to me about them gave them a weight I was hoping they would never gain.

“I assume your speaking of the rumors that Starfleet will become a completely military organization, dropping the science and exploration parts of our mission completely?” Her face took on an expression of surprise at my statement.

“Why yes, sir. That's exactly the rumor I was referring to. It has been gaining strength over the last few days and to tell you the truth, sir. It has me worried.” I nodded.

“Me too, Lieutenant.” I paused briefly. “Well the first thing I can do is say that the rumor is not true. Oh I'm sure there will be more ships like the Defiants developed that are effectively warships. But I doubt very much Starfleet will stop being Starfleet any time soon.” I gave her a small smile. “The second thing I am going to do is go have a talk with, Counselor Grigorii and solve this situation once and for all. Thank you, Lieutenant for your time. I believe we are done here.” After she had left I leaned back in my chair and spoke to the empty room.

“Computer, where is, Lieutenant Commander Grigorii?”

“Lieutenant Commander Grigorii is in his office at the moment, Commander Sorenson.”

“Is he presently occupied?”

“No, Commander. He is performing administrative duties at the moment. His next scheduled appointment is at fourteen-thirty hours.” I glanced at the old fashioned clock I kept on my desk. I saw that I should have enough time to drop in on him before either of us would be needed elsewhere.



“Enter” the Counselor called from inside his office. Taking a deep breath to calm myself I walked in. Sergei stood up as he saw it was me, a expression of apprehension on his face.

“Sergeii, we need to talk about our argument last week.” He gave me an odd look for a second or two before offering me a seat. I crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. As I sat down I amended my thoughts about the Counselor. I still thought he appeared apprehensive but now I was sure I could see defiance in his expression as well. This conversation did not promise to be easy.

“As I'm sure you know, Sergeii, There have been rumors spreading about the ship as to the nature of our disagreement. They have the potential to cause disruptions among the crew of the ship and I think we need to address them together before they get out of hand.”

“I know of the rumors, Commander. I have heard of them myself from concerned crew members, and a few other places.”

“Does that mean you know the source of the rumors, Sergeii?.” I asked as my suspicions were awoken and a small glimmer of hope.

“Not as such, Commander, no. But I suspect the rumors started as all such things start. Some crew member or another was walking outside this room when we had our disagreement, and overheard just enough to come to the wrong conclusion. You know as well as I do that these things happen all the time aboard ship.” He smiled at me. The effect was however spoiled by the fact that the smile did not reach his eyes.

“Yes, Sergeii. Rumors are a fact of life on a starship. However rumors about a split in the command staff and rumors that a large portion of the crew are about to become obsolete, are a bit worse than the normal gossip that goes on aboard ship.” Sergeii leaned forward in his chair, his hands clenched around his coffee cup.

“What if the rumors have a kernel of truth, Commander? Should the crew not be informed about such significant changes?” I could feel my eyes narrow at that.

“What do you mean? I have not heard anything about any changes to Starfleet policy that
would account for the rumors. And considering the information from Starfleet that passes through my system I'm quite confident I would have heard about it by now.” Sergeii was no longer worried. He was in fact getting angry again.

“Is that not a little arrogant, Commander? Are you telling me that every decision by Starfleet command is sent to you before a decision is made? With all due respect, Commander, there is no way you can know that.” He leaned back in his chair and took a short sip of coffee, his eyes hooded above the cup.

“Yes, Counselor, I believe I can be that confident. Do you think this ship was chosen at random to host one of the two first deployed Marine units in Federation history?” A flicker of uncertainty flashed across the Counselors face. “I know you have access to the open portions of both mine and the Captains records. Did you ever study them in depth? Or lieutenant Commander Sands? What about Lieutenant Swanson?” He glanced at his terminal quickly before looking back at me. “Just consider your own file, Counselor. I believe you graduated number three overall in your class at the academy, and that you where number one in the psychology track. All of your fitness reports have nothing but praise for you, and you have received accelerated promotion.” I doubt the Counselor was expecting to hear praise in any form from me when he woke up in the morning. His eyes widened slightly as he sat back in his chair. A slight smile of pride playing on his lips despite the coldness of my response. A smile that vanished just as fast as it showed up when he responded.

“I have indeed studied you record, Commander. It is a most impressive record indeed, for a tactician.” I guess the praise did not get deep enough if he can make a word like 'tactician' sound like 'child'. I felt my anger rising and tried my best to restrain it.

“I'm sure it is, Counselor. My point however is that while I and the Captain did not participate in the decision to chose the Venture as one of the Starships involved in this experiment. We were advised and consulted as to how to best utilize the Marines once the decision had been made. And we have both had several very far reaching proposals and feasibility studies pass before us during this deployment. So I fail to see how a concrete proposal of this magnitude would have passed us by.”

“But you don't deny that it is possible?, do you, Commander.” His tone was getting more stringent as our meeting went on. I was concerned that we would not be able to work out our differences. That we would loose our friendship and cause the crew to fracture. I did my best to push away my personal anger and try to reason with him.

“No, I don't deny it. But I really didn't come here for the sole reason of discussing deployment policy rumors, Counselor. I came to see if we can solve our differences. I don't want any personal issues to interfere with the smooth running of this ship.” This last came out harder than I had really intended. My patients was wearing very thin.

“That's all this is to you, Commander? Something that is getting in the way of your smoothly run ship?” His face twisted in a snarl as he slammed his cup on the table, splashing hot black liquid on the desk. Not that any of us thought very much about it at the time. Far too late I heard the alarms going of inside my head. I had insisted on thinking of the Counselor as I was supposed to think of him instead of following the advice of my senior tactical instructor at the Academy. 'Stop assuming your seeing everything and actually look at what's in front of your damn eyes!' Captain Stanton had told me when I got a squadron lost in a simulated ambush. My assumptions back then had caused me trouble. This time it could be far worse than a bad grade on an examination. I felt my expression harden as the Counselors words really registered. I leaned forward across the table, my hands clenching its sides.

“Yes, Counselor. That is exactly what I am worried about. That's my job. My job is to make sure everyone on board does their job and that the ship is as capable as it can possibly be. And you are an integral part of my capabilities when it comes to performing my duties. So of course I'm worried.” I took a deep breath and tried to step back from the flash of anger I had just felt. Leaning back in my chair I continued. “Look, Sergeii, I know you're worried about the future of Starfleet. I can't blame you for that. The Marines, dedicated combat ships, they all point to a bleaker and more martial future for the Federation. But they don't mean that we are turning away from what made us who we are today. We are not going to give up the ideals of the Federation. If we did that, then we wouldn't deserve to wear the uniform. On the other hand, we do have to protect ourselves from those we can't simply talk to.” I paused to gather my thoughts and to gauge his reaction. As he seemed to stop and think about what I had said I breathed a surreptitious sigh of relief. He still looked angry but at least he was listening.

“Why can't we just sit down and talk to them, Commander? Why do we have to kill them? How can we condone unnecessary deaths? I saw the Major on the bridge after their assault last week. She was positively gloating at how many they had managed to lure into an ambush and then slaughtered. After they had all returned to the ship. There were no more Federation lives in danger down there, Commander. Still, she committed mass murder in front of hundreds of witnesses and bragged about it!” Sergeii was furious now. He was leaning across the table, his voice rising in volume. His objections clear and understandable as long as you thought, as he clearly thought, that there was an alternative way to do what had been done. An operation like the one he was talking about would be, in any other context, nothing more than a crime of enormous proportions. But this was a war. A war such as the Federation had not fought in a very long time.

“I can see your point, Sergeii, but I'm afraid I don't agree with your conclusions. During that operation we captured some of the people most responsible for the massacre on Tenean IV, and have gotten a few steps closer to ending this war as soon as possible. Many tens of thousands have already died, Sergeii. But hundreds of thousands are still alive thanks to the intervention of our Starships and, yes, our Marines.” His eyes narrowed in anger at my comparison of Starfleet and the Marines. He was quite obviously not ready to hear anything or anyone comparing a noble organization like Starfleet with a pack of butchers like the Marines.

“Can't you see the danger they represent, Jer?” He asked. “They're everything we have put aside in the Federation. Everything from our own dark, horrible past that we have fought so long to overcome. And now these rumors start showing up about splitting Starfleet into separate services.” He shook his head angrily before looking up into my eyes again. I could see the determination and fire within them. “I have to fight this Jer. These changes threaten to cast away hundreds of years of progress. Simply for short sighted goals and quick fixes.” He sat back heavily in his chair. Much of his fury spent.

“I won't try to dictate your own moral choices, Sergeii.” I responded. “But I have to know. Can we put aside our personal differences and do the job that is expected of us?” His response, when it came, was colored by his frustration.

“I don't know, Commander...but I doubt it.”



It was a while after I had left the Counselors office, that I finally decided I had to go to the Captain about the issue. As I rode the turbolift to the bridge, I was bothered about having to go to him about this situation at all. Of course, by now I did not have a choice. This issue was something he had to know about, and I was part of the problem. By the end of the meeting both the Counselor and I had realized that our friendship would probably never be the same again, and our working relationship had been damaged beyond our personal capabilities to repair it. We had managed to avoid screaming at each other again, but it had been close a few times. He held on to the bitter end that the changes in Starfleet generally, and the introduction of the Marines in particular were a greater threat to the Federation than the Klingon Empire. We had after all won every hot and cold war for the last two hundred years. I just wished I had his confidence about the current war. After seeing the destruction on Tenean IV and all the other places we had been since the start of the conflict, I had a feeling that this war was turning out to be something different to what had come before. This time we might not have the choice of living in peace afterward.

I stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge and waved Sandra back into the command chair.

“As you where, Commander. I'm just heading through to see the Captain.”

“Aye, sir.” She responded with a slight smile before sitting back down. I crossed quickly to the Captains ready room and knocked.

“Come.”

I entered the Captains ready room. As the door closed behind me I stood at attention.

“Good afternoon, Commander. What seems to be the problem?”

“Sir. We may have a problem aboard ship, and I'm afraid I don't know how to handle it. The argument between myself and the Counselor is threatening to begin causing serious issues. I have recently come from a meeting with him and our disagreement does not seem to have any immediate solution, sir.”

“I see, Commander. Do you see any possible solution to the problem?”

“Several, sir. I am afraid however that the most likely solution is to have one of us transferred off the ship. As I am part of the problem I must turn over responsibility of the issue to you, sir.” He gazed at me for long seconds. His expression neutral and impossible to read. Finally he cocked his head to one side and responded.

“I have been expecting this conversation for some time now, Jer. Although you did show up sooner than I expected.” As usual the Captain seemed to be impossible to surprise about anything going on in his ship.

“Sir, I should have come to you sooner but I honestly did not realize the magnitude of the problem until today, and even then I thought I could handle it on my own. I now know I was wrong, sir.” I remained at attention as the Captain studied me. Time slowed to a crawl as I waited for the Captain to make a final decision on how to handle the situation.

“Your right, XO. The situation has gotten out of hand. Through no fault on your part I might add. At ease Jer and have a seat. I've got something you need to see.” Puzzled by his tone I sat down in front of his desk as he first activated the compartments privacy system and only then called up a document on his terminal. He spun his display around so I could read it. “I got this from a friend over in HQ a few weeks ago. Read through it and tell me what you think.”

As I started reading he stood up and walked over to the replicator, getting coffee for the both of us. When he set the cup down on the desk next to me, I was so absorbed in my reading, I barely noticed it. The document in front of me was a copy of an internal memo between Admiral Fitzgerald of Starfleet Operations and Admiral Xiang of Starfleet Personnel.

'Admiral Fitzgerald. I am afraid that your request for reassignment and replacement of Lieutenant Commander Grigorii as Counselor of the USS Venture and Lieutenant Commander Kurtzman as Counselor of the USS Challenger cannot be met at this time. As you know the Galaxy class ships have certain traditions of excellence among the crews in general and the command staff in particular. I am afraid that at the current time we do not have anyone qualified to step in for Lieutenant Commander Grigorii and Lieutenant Commander Kurtzman. My staff and I have determined that we will not have suitable replacements available until the USS Venture and the USS Challenger have already completed their planned refits and are several weeks into their planned deployments. Upon completion of their currently planned deployments we believe that the requested personnel changes can be affected.
Admiral Pheizhi Xian Chief, Starfleet Personnel.'

Immediately following that was an attached personal message:

'I'm sorry, John. According to my staff there is nothing to do about it. The command crews on the ships are pretty much set in stone by now. We have managed to free up most of the names on your list, so Venture and Challenger are already crewed by some of our best people. We will just have to hope everything works out.

Admiral Xiang.'

I looked up at the Captain with a concerned look on my face. “They tried to replace Sergeii before we left, sir?”

“Yes they did, Jer. And they failed. Admiral Fitzgerald sent me a message explaining the situation just before we left Utopia Planitia back in Sol. It seems that there is some significant resistance to the whole idea of having Marines. The Admiral was concerned that the Counselor would jump on any opportunity to discredit the whole Marine project. I thought we had him turned around after Tenean IV. Once he got over the understandable shock we all felt however, his resistance returned and strengthened. Then once the two of you got into your argument he seemed to have taken his personal convictions to a whole new level. I'm sure that the footage of the Marines operation at Beta Sceptri did not help moderate his opinions.”

I could only agree with that. My experiences on the planet and watching the footage, as I participated in the Marines debriefing of the assault, brought home the full brutality of war in a way that shattered starships and life pod beacons never did before. “I assume you have the Counselors reports, Captain?” I asked.

“His official reports yes. But I don't know what else he could have reported to others who share his views. And the nature of the operations we have been involved with ensure that he could have a lot of damaging information if it was taken out of context.”

“What do you need me to do, sir?”

“Nothing, Jer. There is nothing you can do about the bigger picture at the moment. But I want you to keep a close eye on the ship. I'm certain the Counselor is the source of the rumors that have you worried. However there is nothing you or I can do about that officially. His reports and your reports all say that he has done his job in an exemplary manner, except for your little altercation. And my final deployment report will say exactly that. Your argument will be caused by high tempers resulting from operational stress.”

I nodded at the logic behind the Captains choice of actions. Nothing had been done that was actionable in any way. Nothing that could be proven at least. Also, it could be argued that what the Captain and I were doing at the moment, was as objectionable as anything Sergeii may or may not have done. “Well, sir.” I said after a moments silence “I think I better go have a word with Major Nakhoda and give her a heads up about the situation.”

The Captain simply smiled slightly before responding. “What makes you think she doesn't know about it already?”

I looked back at the Captain before realization dawned on me.

“You've got it, Jer. She knew about the situation before I did. In fact I believe she was briefed on the, shall we call it political resistance, several weeks before she and her unit were deployed on board the Venture.” He chuckled slightly at my puzzled expression before continuing. “Jer, you are an excellent tactician and ship handler. In fact I think one portion of your confidential record says that you may be one of the best in Starfleet. But I'm afraid you have a bit of a blind spot for the politics of your chosen profession.” He grinned at the mixture of pride and concern in my expression. “Don't worry to much about it, Jer. Neither did I at your rank. That's one of the reasons you were assigned this position in the first place. Someone thinks you have what it takes to Captain a ship of your own someday, and decided to give you a chance to prove yourself.”

I can't really say that the Captain surprised me with that. There are not very many Galaxy class ships in Starfleet, and they are still very prestigious assignments. I worked very hard to get assigned to the Venture. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Captain. What do we do now, sir? As you just pointed out, I'm not really equipped to handle an issue where I can't rely on reason or regulations.”

“Just keep up you usual good work, Jer. We'll arrive at Sol within the next week or so, and the Admiral should have worked out solutions to most of our issues by then. Even if he hasn't, we're going to be in dock for a month at a minimum with our level of damage. Not to mention the changes that are planned for the ship. On that note, we have received another message from Admiral Fitzgerald. Me, you ,Lieutenant Commander Roland and Major Nakhoda with her XO are to report to San Francisco as soon as we can upon arriving in the system. We haven't received any further information, but I doubt we are being called home because something is going right in this war.” He paused and considered something in silence for a moment. “Now that I have you here, XO, I have been meaning to ask you, how are Lieutenants Swanson and Sierra shaping up?”

“Just fine, sir. Lieutenant Swanson is doing very well in tactical, and she is handling some integration issues between security and the marines very smoothly. Lieutenant Sierra is doing just as well at the helm as Lieutenant Swanson is doing in tactical. He was a very good helmsman before Lieutenant Torrelinos death. And he has been working harder than ever since he got the main seat. He is not quite up at the level Melisa reached, but he is getting there.”

The Captain leaned back in his chair with a smile and took a sip of his coffee. “I agree, XO. And Commander Sands can certainly handle the ship on his own for a while. My concern is that they will change the nature of the refit at a moments notice. So I want one of us to be here at all times for that possibility. As soon as we can I'm going to be sending you back to the ship just in case.”

“Understood, sir.” I put my cup back on his desk and stood up. “Anything else sir?”

“No, I think that's all for now, XO. I'll see you at the staff meeting this evening.”

“Of course, sir.” I responded before leaving the compartment and heading back to my office to worry about all the things I had just learned about.

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Huzzah! Ok... now to read it, since my reply notification went off. =)

Well it only took me 5 months to complete. Or about eight hours if I had just sat down and done it. I'll see about getting back into the 'one chapter a week' schedule soon. I have the motivation, I just don't know how much free writing time I am going to have.

Anyway, as usual I hope you enjoy it and constructive criticism, both in the thread and as PMs are welcome and appreciated.

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

I really like how you are handling the transition to a more militaristic mindset. I think there would reasonably be those in star fleet who would be conscientious objectors and I would expect a counselor to be one of them. You represent his position very well here, though it is not that of the main character's.

Hopefully he won't end up like the Ft. Hood shooter, I'm kind of seeing some similarities develop. Kind of an ingenuous mechanism for advancing the plot, conversationally as a juxtaposition to what you did with the paperwork. You've got a gift man.

I'm a tad worried you're going to be turning Grigorii into some sort of Anti-military build up strawman, other than that, good work.

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

Actually, his character is turning to the dark side a little more naturally than real life examples. Look at Westboro Church's chain of reasoning for hating the military.


I don't think Grigori's a two dimensional strawman or anything, As depicted he has a deep set respect for life, and is ultimately a true pacifist. Proceeding from the premise that all life is sacred, he can't even process the notions that others might not feel the same way.

He is disturbingly unaware that a soldier NEEDS to feel differently in order to accomplish their job, and this is a central point of distress for many. Personally it's the reason I respect soldiers the most. I really think his position alone justifies his removal from his position as ship's counselor, he has totally lost all semblance of objectivity, and what's more, it seems he is using his influence AS a counselor to incite others.

You could even take it to the extent that Grigori is projecting his own crisis onto a larger setting. His mindset, his way of life is threatened, but he's a counselor, so it can't be just him, it must be the entire federation. All that from a work of fiction? Grigori's definitely not a strawman. I think he is an intriguing foil.

Chapter 11

“Welcome back to Sol, Venture. You're cleared to approach Mars L1 point station at your leisure. Utopia Planitia has been updated about your delay, and will have yard space available within ten hours.”

“Understood, Control. Our ETA at Mars L1 is now two hours. Venture out.” The Captain spoke with satisfaction at our arrival, and the warm welcome from Sol system traffic control. The main view screen blanked out on the controlling officer and switched to the regular forward view. The trip from Beta Sceptri had been very interesting the last few days. The starboard warp nacelle had failed when we were less than twelve hours out from Sol. Lieutenant Commander Sands had taken one look at the inside of the nacelle, and declared it dead, and far beyond any possibility of repair outside a shipyard. I was not a trained engineer, but even I could recognize how bad it was when a large number of warp coils had broken apart and were spread all over the deck. His examination of the port nacelle had shown stress fractures throughout the entire structure. He had cleared it for operation but at reduced power only. With the reduced speed imposed by the damage, combined with the time needed for Matt to look over the engines, our arrival had been a bit delayed, to say the least. “Any more updates from Starfleet, Lieutenant Swanson?” The Captain asked.

“No, Captain. Nothing except routine status updates. Shall I transfer them to your console, sir?”

“That's okay, Lieutenant. I'm just wasting some time before I return to my paperwork.” The Captain took a deep breath and a slight smile that the bridge crew shared. “XO, you have the bridge. I'm going to finish up some things before we arrive.”

“Aye aye, sir, I have the bridge.” We both stood up, and as he went to his ready room I walked over to the helm to look over Lieutenant Sierras shoulder. He had come a long way since he replaced Lieutenant Torrelino as the main helm officer, but the Captain and I still took every opportunity to check up on him. The Lieutenant looked up at me as I put my hand on the back of his seat. I smiled down at him before quickly checking his readouts. Satisfied that he had us on not only the correct course but was busy plotting several alternative courses as well, I turned back to sit down in the Captains seat. The seat to my left was empty. Something that was becoming more and more common as the rift between myself and the Counselor grew. Shrugging of those thoughts as nothing I could affect at the moment I called up some reports on the small display integrated into the seat. Passing the next few hours with a remarkable lack of incidents.
A few moments before we arrived at Mars L1 point the Captain came out of his ready room.

“XO, I have the bridge.”

“Aye, sir, you have the bridge.” I stood up and moved back to my seat at the Captains right hand. The Captains timing was as usual spot on as we had just enough time to sit down when Lieutenant Sierra reported.

“Coming up on Mars L1 station now, sir.” Lieutenant Commander Roland spoke up next.

“We've just received a message from Utopia Planitia yards, sir. They have managed to clear our planned spacedock early and request we transfer to dock alpha three niner as soon as possible.”

“Well then, let's not keep them waiting, Commander. Helm, plot us a course to dock alpha three niner.”

“Aye Captain, plotting a course to dock alpha three niner.” There was a slight pause as Lieutenant Sierra called up a pre-planned course and did the necessary alterations. “Course plotted and laid in sir.”

“Very good Helm. Make it so. ETA?”

“Twelve minutes, Captain.”

“Thank you, Helm. Ops, send a message to Utopia Planitia updating them as to our arrival time and request that the dock master beam aboard as soon as we are within range.”

“Yes, sir.” Another slight pause. “Message sent and response received. Commander Jackson and a party of three will beam on board once we have docked to begin a preliminary survey, Captain. The message notes that work should be underway before eighteen hundred this evening, sir.”

I looked over at the Captain. “They certainly seem on the ball, sir.”

“Considering who we are going to meet, XO I expected nothing less.” When the Chief of Operations of Starfleet has a personal interest in a vessel it tends to get everything it needs quickly.

“Yes, sir.” I answered, returning my eyes to the main viewscreen where the orbital sections of the Utopia Planitia yards were coming into view. Despite only having been gone a couple months the changes that had been made were substantial to say the least. “Damn.” I exclaimed softly as the scale of changes struck me. “We really are at war, sir.” I said while staring at the screen.

“Yes, XO. We are.” Normally we would be able to see three maybe four different ships refitting or being constructed at any one time in any given part of the yards. Now there was at least two dozen ships in various stages of construction in view, and another dozen with clear signs of battle damage. The Captain cocked his head to the side as we passed through the dispersed docks, fabrication hubs, refineries and the hundreds of other support structures that made up the Federations premier ship yard. The Captain got a puzzled expression as he studied the view. He punched in an information request on his console. “Do you notice anything odd about this, XO?” He asked after a moment, waving his hand at the screen. I took another look at the construction underway, but I could not see anything odd. Besides the sheer scale of construction going on that is.

“Not really, sir. Nothing special beyond the increase in activity.”

“And it is a large increase, XO. As normally they would have between five and twenty ships under construction at any given time. And most of those would be from wildly different classes, to meet the needs of Starfleets many responsibilities.” He paused and pointed at the view on display. “According to our sensors there are over a hundred ships in the early stages of construction at the moment. And the overwhelming majority of them are from only three different classes.” He counted them off on his fingers for emphasis. “Akiras, Defiants and Intrepids. All classes that have a proven record for combat efficiency.” He paused and gave me an odd look. It seemed like he was expecting a response, the only one I could think of however, was not something I could say aloud on the bridge. Maybe the rumors had not been so far off after all.




Stepping out of the Marine assault shuttle at Starfleet HQ's star port, I stood for a moment blinking in the bright sunlight. Taking a moment to orient my self, I turned to the guide who had come out to the port to greet us. Lieutenant Vukovic was Admiral Fitzgeralds, Flag Lieutenant. An ancient and venerable position that ensured the Lieutenant would be over-worked and under-appreciated. Until the next round of promotions that is.

“Captain Pelatier, I am Lieutenant Vukovic. Admiral Fitzgeralds Flag Lieutenant. If you and your party would accompany me to the admiral, sir?.” The young mans courtesy was impeccable, as was his mannerisms in general. Of course they would not have selected him at random. Not for the Admiral in charge of Starfleets day to day operations.

We followed the Lieutenant through the busy port and out to a waiting short range shuttle. As soon as we were all seated it took off, quickly reaching altitude for the short hop to Starfleet HQ.

“Admiral Fitzgerald has asked me to tell you, Captain Nakhoda, that your superiors in the Corps are very pleased with your performance and that they have arranged a suitable reward for you. I have however been very strictly instructed to not reveal anything about the reward itself as General LeMay and Colonel Tekhavara wish to tell you themselves.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Shari responded. “I for one would not want to tell those two officers that their surprise had been ruined.” She sat back with a smile and looked at her XO, Lieutenant Arisu. The Lieutenant had looked a bit surprised at something Lieutenant Vukovic had said, but declined to comment. She simply returned her Commanders expression with a smile of her own. Not long after we had taken off from the star port we arrived at HQ, and were immediately escorted deep inside the structure. We went so deep that security began to be visible. Armed guards, identity checks and other measures added after the changelings of the dominion war. The shield room that was our destination was quite large, a bit on the cold side, and almost empty. The room could easily have seated forty people comfortably. However, it was occupied with only six others when we arrived. We stopped just inside the entrance as Lieutenant Vukovic began the introductions.

“Admiral Fitzgerald, I believe you already know Captain Pelatier and his staff?”

“Indeed I do, Lieutenant.” He walked up and shook the Captains hand. “And allow me to introduce you to the rest of our briefing group.” He paused and turned to the other people waiting in the room, presenting each in turn. “This is Vice Admiral Caruso, Liaison to the Federation Foreign Service, Captain Mugford of Starfleet Intelligence, Captain Goreman from Utopia Planitia, Brigadier General LeMay, Commandant of the Marines and Colonel Tekhavara, Commander of the First Marine Regiment. We do not have a lot of time but we want to get a few things done before we begin in earnest. General LeMay?”

“Thank you Admiral. Captain Nakhoda. Front and center.” Shari snapped to attention and marched out in front of our group to stand facing the General. “I have two pieces of good new for you, Captain. The first is that your Company is going to be expanded to battalion strength. The second is that you are being promoted to Lieutenant Colonel so that we can keep you in command of the unit. Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda.” She reached out and shook Shari's hand with a smile. Colonel Tekhavara held up a small, black box. Opening it displayed the four bars of a Marine Lieutenant Colonel. Colonel Tekhavara quickly replaced Shari's Captains bars with the new insignia, before offering his own hand in congratulations. From my vantage point I could only see Shari's profile, but she certainly seemed surprised at the promotion.

“Thank you, ma'am.” She responded. “I won't let you down, ma'am.”

“I know you won't, Colonel. We are going to run you through a crash course in managing your new unit over the next month as we work out the details involved. I know it is a bit odd to jump a rank. However the Marine Corps was given the go ahead to expand to just above three times it's current strength. Due in large part to your own efforts in the war so far, and we need every good officer we have to step up and do what needs to be done. Of course it is going to take us several months to train the required personnel and get them integrated as units.” Shari simply nodded in understanding, still with a slightly shocked smile on her lips.

“Thank you, sir. This means a lot to me.” General LeMay nodded with a smile before glancing at Admiral Fitzgerald. The Admiral cleared his throat and stepped up to the newest Lieutenant Colonel in the Marines.

“Colonel, let me add my own congratulations, and the best wishes of the Federation for success in your future.” They shook hands as well, and Shari nodded mutely. The normally eloquent Marine had seemed to temporarily lost her voice, the smile she was wearing on the other hand told far more than mere words. “And now, ladies and gentlemen. If you would so kindly take your seats we can get this initial briefing on the way.” The Admiral walked to the front of the room. A speakers pedestal was mounted there, in front of an enormous viewscreen.

As we walked over to the conference table, that surrounded a large holographic projector, I touched Shari's shoulder gently and whispered a quick 'congratulations' before finding taking my seat at Captain Pelatier's right hand.

“All right. Now that the pleasant business is taken care of we can get started with the less pleasant briefing.” The Admiral touched a hidden control on the pedestal, causing an image flashed to life on the viewscreen. The image was a frozen tactical display showing a Klingon user interface, and Klingon icons overlaying a map of a solar system.

I quickly read the symbols and saw that the system in question was called the Bijikar system. Bijikar II seemed to be the only inhabited planet in the system. Besides the planet and it's orbital installations, there did not seem to be much of value on display.

“This is information we have received from a source within the Klingon Empire, purporting to show the reason we are currently at war. I will expand on that explanation later, first however I want you to see the recording in question.”

The tactical recording started up. The raw sensor data in the sidebar flowed past, and several objects in orbit around Bijikar II started crawling around their celestial parent. Asteroid tracks and solar hazards flashed by as the recording sensor station searched for threats to the only life bearing planet in the system. Without any warning an angry, blinking symbol came to life close to the planet. The sensor data accelerated as the station tried to identify the unknown contact that had appeared so unexpectedly. Jamming started up as soon as the vessel appeared, blocking any attempt at communication with the rest of the galaxy. More markers appeared as the unidentified vessel launched torpedoes at the orbiting installations, obliterating them within seconds of its appearance. Several more launches were made against objects the sensor station knew were only asteroids and other debris you find in every sector of space. The bogey was clearly making sure that there was no one alive in orbit to witness what came next. The vessel orientated itself with the planet, taking about a minute and a half to settle into the orbit it was after. Once it was in position it fired on the planet. Massive phaser and torpedo strikes were launched. For a full five minutes the vessel moved around in orbit, vaporizing a sizable chunk of the planets largest continent. Two minutes after it had completed it's task, it simply vanished.

“What you have just seen was recorded by an unmanned defensive scanner station placed 'above' the systems star.” The Admiral continued after ha had let the imagery sink in with his audience for a few moments. “Our source on Qo'noS got this information to us with a note. The note confirms that this recording and a subsequent expedition to the planet in question is the basis for their war with us. They claim that the ship responsible for wiping out their colony was a Defiant Class vessel operating under cloak. Examination of the sensor data confirms that the ship in question had the same output profile of a Defiant. The problem is of however, that the only Defiant with a cloak in Starfleet is the USS Defiant herself. And she was on Deep Space 9 when this was supposed to have happened.”

Captain Pelatier leaned forward. “How do we know she has been there the entire time, Admiral?”

“Colonel Nerys sent us the security files. They are, as far as we can tell, undoctored and complete. Unfortunately they are not something we can send to the Klingons as proof of our innocence for a variety of reasons.”

“What about the other polities in the quadrant, sir?” Lieutenant Commander Roland asked.

“Good question, Commander. And it is one Vice Admiral Caruso will get into with more depth at a later briefing. In short I can say that the current political situation gives us very little hope for assistance. Not to mention that most of the other polities are not in any shape to actually help us, even if they wanted to. The Romulans might be able to help, but they still haven't recovered from the incident with Shinzon last year. So no, Commander. I do not expect this information to help us anytime soon. The reason I have shown you this is because it is relevant background to your next mission. You are going to extract the source of our information from the Klingon Empire. He has been captured and sent to a penal facility. And no, it is not Rura Penthe.”

I nodded and looked around. Everyone was focused entirely on the Admiral and the briefing, their expressions tight and serious. I could not help but feel worried about the mission before us. It sounded like we were going to be deep inside the Klingon Empire, maybe even to one of their core worlds. The last one had gone well, but that was an isolated military installation far from the Klingon core worlds.

“Admiral, it seems to me that you are talking about something a little bigger than a quick smash and grab.” Captain Pelatier noted.

“That is correct, Captain. The penal facility is located on one of the Klingons second tier industrial nodes. Quite a few starship components and other war materiel is produced in the system. So we are going to hide the extraction with a all out assault on the planet and it's industrial capacity.” The Admiral gestured to the holographic images that sprang to life in the middle of the room. A system schematic of the Fa'Rov system, as well as a diverse amount of tactical, logistic and industrial information was shown. “The plan is for sixth fleet to assault the planet. Take the higher ranking Klingons prisoner and utterly destroy all infrastructure that can support military activities.” He turned to General LeMay. “The Marines will be tasked with the ground portion of the operation. The Challenger, and 'Hammer' Company will be along as well to bolster your strength. The Challenger is en route to Sol as we speak. Captain Collins and Captain Serandon, together with their staffs, will be joining the planning sessions as soon as they arrive. I believe Captain Serandon is going to get a promotion to Major, and will act as the combined Marine force executive officer. In addition to commanding the third Company.” Shari frowned and glanced at General LeMay.”

“No, Colonel. It is not fair. It is however a good way to ensure that you have seniority on the ground for this mission.” He waited until Shari nodded her understanding
before continuing. “Don't worry about Captain Serandon, Colonel. He is getting a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel as well, as soon as we have a Battalion to give him that is.”

“Vice Admiral Kevasoan ch'Anen is the commanding officer of sixth fleet, and he is briefed on the classified portions of the operation.” Admiral Fitzgerald continued after a brief pause. “He and his operations officer will ensure that your unit will have all the support you need to handle the assault on the prison facility, Colonel Nakhoda.”

The schematic of the Fa'Rov system blinked out, and was replaced with a detailed holo model of the prison complex. I had to double check the scale indicator to make sure I was reading the size of the complex correctly. It was enormous. The central structure was large enough, had it been hollow, to hold the entire Venture with its docking slip and room to spare. And since it had been built into the base of a mountain, it was hard to see anyone getting in or out easily. The Admiral understood our concern at seeing the size and position of our target and gave us time to absorb the details.

“I'm sure you are concerned about the size of the target structure compared to the realistic combat capabilities of your unit, Colonel Nakhoda.” The Admiral said as he noted her expression. “However, I have discussed the situation with General LeMay and her staff and we believe that you have enough capability to successfully secure the primary target even in a worst case scenario. In the best case scenario you should be able to secure the secondary and tertiary objectives as well.” He paused as Shari studied the schematic more closely.

“Yes, sir. I'm quite sure we can punch through just about anything they could have there and pull out the primary. It's taking full control of the complex and securing it against counter attack that I'm concerned about.” She leaned forward towards the slowly rotating schematic. All the while gently tapping the side of her nose as she considered the problem she was facing. The Admiral simply looked at her, waiting to see her reaction. After a short while she stopped tapping her nose and stabbed her index finger at the holo. “There, sir. Any reinforcements have to come in either by air or down that one road, from the nearby city. If we can close that and maintain air superiority, we should be able to hold the prison for at least a few days.”

General LeMay and Admiral Fitzgerald exchanged smiles before General LeMay responded to Shari. “That was the plan, Colonel. You should have no problem holding the structure once you capture it. Assuming of course you do not take too many casualties in the process. We'll work out the details later. Captain Mugford has every scrap of data we have on the system, and will be available to answer any questions you might have over the next few days.” Shari nodded at the General and returned to studying the schematic. Admiral Fitzgerald turned to Captain Pelatier.

“Captain Pelatier, Admiral ch'Anen will be joining us tomorrow to go over the details of of the space portion of the operation. However before that I would like to have Admiral Caruso explain who you are going to extract and what went wrong.” He turned to the seated Vice Admiral. “Admiral?”

“Thank you, sir.” He said as Admiral Fitzgerald sat down at the conference table. Admiral Caruso walked over to stand behind the pedestal and cleared his throat. “As has been noted I am Vice Admiral Caruso. I am currently assigned to the Federation Foreign Service, however my background is in intelligence. A few years ago, Lieutenant Commander Worf was offered a position as the Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire. His acceptance gave us in the intelligence community an unprecedented opportunity for access to the highest levels of the Klingon Empire. Ambassador Worf assisted Starfleet intelligence in gathering a large amount of data on the inner workings of the Klingon High Council, while at the same time, unfortunately curtailing our more, clandestine operations.”

“His hesitation over such methods largely disappeared about two months ago. When this individual took over the Chancellorship from Chancellor Martok.” The Viewscreen behind the Admiral snapped to life again with an image of a young Klingon, no more than forty years old, standing at the head of the Great Hall on Qo'noS. The body of the former Chancellor clearly visible in the foreground. With his Bat'leth splashed with the blood of the fallen Martok and the heavy chain of the Chancellors office around his neck, Chancellor Cha'Vok stood triumphant at the head of the Great Hall.

“Chancellor Cha'Vok is, as far we can determine, considered by the Klingon High Council to be all that a Klingon should be. Fierce, determined, fearless and lethal. Unfortunately for us he also, of course, did not and certainly now does not like the Federation. He once acknowledged our contributions over the past few decades to the Empire, but he did not consider us allies or anything but a potential hindrance to the Empire. This was worrying enough to Starfleet before he became Chancellor. Now that he believes we attacked and glazed a Klingon colony he considers us the Empires greatest foe and has vowed to destroy the Federation.” He took a brief pause to check his notes.

“One of Ambassador Worf's last reports detailed the circumstances that led to Cha'Vok taking over the Chancellorship. In essence, Chancellor Martok did not believe that the Federation would do what was done in the Bijikar system, and advocated contacting us and demanding an explanation. He was denounced as a traitor by Cha'Vok and challenged on his right to rule. You can see the result of the traditional Klingon Challenge.” He gestured at the fallen Martok on the viewscreen. “After this, Ambassador Worf authorized the intelligence officers stationed at the embassy to resume their more...underhanded information gathering methods. We believe that was what inspired the new Chancellor to arrest Ambassador Worf and close down our embassy there. With a great deal of force I might add. According to certain other sources we have, Ambassador Worf is the only survivor of the embassy staff. The rest we believe were killed during the attack on the embassy or executed later.” He paused to let that sink in. “Are there any questions at this time?” He looked around the room at the gathered officers.

“Sir, how confident are we that Ambassador Worf is the only survivor from the embassy?” I asked.

“The source that brought us the information has a record for giving us solid information. Having said that, we are not entirely sure of course. But we do expect it to be accurate.”

The briefing resumed. Questions were asked, answers were given. Captain Mugford gave a brief overview of the information available about the target system, answered a few questions and promised a complete download would be available to the planning staff. Before handing over to Captain Goreman, Captain Mugford had this to say.

“And on a final note, I would like to inform you that most of the prisoners you took at Beta Sceptri have already started talking, and we expect to gain a large amount of information out of them. Any and all pertinent information we gather will, of course, be forwarded to you immediately.” I saw Shari smile at this. It was, after all, her unit that taken them prisoner.

Captain Goreman gave a quick rundown of the changes that were being made to the Venture. There were plans in place to produce a dedicated Marine assault transport. For the moment however existing Starships would have to do the job. Despite being, as Captain Goreman noted, 'sub-optimal' for that role. Until the new classes could be produced they were going to have to modify existing Starships as a stop-gap measure to give as much efficiency as possible.

We finally broke for the evening after nearly a full day of taking in information and asking questions. Captain Pelatier instructed me to get some food and then get back to the ship. He wanted regular progress reports on the repairs and, more importantly, the changes being made to his ship.




Shari and I had decided to find some place close to the Starport to eat dinner. We both had important duties to attend to afterward and wanted to stay close to Starfleet HQ. We quickly found a quiet cafe close to the port that looked promising. We walked in and got seated by the waiter. As we selected our food we talked about our experiences so far, about Shari's new rank and a myriad of other topics. It was a relaxing and comfortable break from the stress of the last few months. Or it was until I saw the Counselor walk in with a Captain I did not immediately recognize. Sergeii looked around as he entered but failed to notice Shari and me as we had been seated in the back of the room. Shari noticed the change in my expression.

“What's wrong, Jer?” She asked.

“Don't turn around, but Sergei just walked in.”

“Lieutenant Commander Grigorii?” I simply nodded my head in the Counselors direction. She surreptitiously glanced in the indicated direction before turning back to me. “Who is the Captain, Jer?”

“No idea. I think I've seen her before but I can't remember where.” The Captain sitting across from Sergeii was very familiar. Thinking furiously I finally remembered where I had seen her before.

“I've got it.” I exclaimed softly. “The recommissioning party for the Venture after you came on board. I can't remember her name, but I do remember the Captain remarking that she was a high level aide to Admiral Djokovic.”

“The same Djokovic that is the head of Starfleet training command?” I nodded my head in agreement.

“Yes, Shari. That Admiral Djokovic. I wonder why the Counselor is meeting with her?”

“Maybe they're on a date.” She said with a slight smile. “It has been known to happen you know.”

I smiled back. “Yes, I guess it could be a date.” My smile faded away. “Though they aren't acting like it's a date. It looks more like a meeting of some sort to me.” My brow furrowed in concentration as I studied the two officers on the other side of the room. Something just did not feel right. So I said as much to Shari.

“Are you sure you're not just being paranoid, Jer?” She responded.

“Of course I could. I just don't think so, and I suspect, neither do you.”

“Unfortunately, no, I don't think your paranoid, Jer. Not after hearing from General LeMay how much resistance there was to the entire idea of a Marine Corps. Some of the resistance was quite heated according to the General, so I wouldn't be the least surprised if those two actually were discussing us.” She turned slightly in her chair so she could get another look at the Counselor and his companion.

“I wonder what they are talking about.” I mused aloud. She turned back towards me, her eyes narrow.

“Probably how they can screw over my Marines.” I had never heard that particular bitter tone from Shari before.

“What's wrong, Shari? What did I miss?”

“You haven't missed a thing, Jer. It's something the General warned me about before we deployed. You have heard about the resistance they ran into when the idea of
Marines was introduced?”

“Yes. The Captain mentioned it a while back.”

“Well, what has not been spread around very far is that there are some very quiet rumors going around about 'dealing with the Marines once and for all'.” I arched an eyebrow in question. “Nothing so dark and malicious, Jer.” Her smile returned for a brief second. “Or at least the General does not think so. I just don't like the idea of people who are out to discredit my people because of their own personal bigotry.” I reached out and covered her hand with my own

“Well, no matter what happens, Shari, I have your back. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?”

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Hold on, in wartime, they might try to remove the sole effective infantry force, just because it violates their pacifistic standards? Because "They're everything we have put aside in the Federation. Everything from our own dark, horrible past that we have fought so long to overcome."? Wow, I'm suddenly worried about the Federations future.

On a side note, something now is about to go wrong, seeing how they taunted Murphy!

---

If Dr. Gatling was a nerd, then his most famous invention is the fucking Revenge of the Nerd, writ large...

"Lawful stupid is the paladin that charges into hell because he knows there's evil there."
—anonymous

"Although you may win the occasional battle against us, Vorrik, the Empire will always strike back."

You mean the same people that sold out their own citizens and left them to the tender mercies of the Cardassians in some vain attempt at maintaining peace? And then when those same betrayed people decided to fight to defend themselves from Cardassian aggression - which was against the terms of the treaty - the Federation betrayed them again by declaring them criminals and actively assisted the Cardassians in hunting them down?

Yes, I can see them pulling something like that. Or something much, much more idiotic. That was my one problems with the Next Gen setting - the Federation was nothing but a bunch of politicians, in the worst sense of the word. They talked a good game, but when push came to shove they'd either cave in or stab their own people in the back. Not quite the milk and honey society that they liked people to believe...




Definitely. I'm really surprised Nakhoda didn't call him out for that one. Seeing as how Murphy was prominently mentioned in an earlier chapter and all...

So, who's taking bets on the Marines being sent into some sort of situation where they will end up looking bad?

On a side note, is it too late to defect to the Marquis?

---

If Dr. Gatling was a nerd, then his most famous invention is the fucking Revenge of the Nerd, writ large...

"Lawful stupid is the paladin that charges into hell because he knows there's evil there."
—anonymous

"Although you may win the occasional battle against us, Vorrik, the Empire will always strike back."

Good chapter, but I was hoping for a discussion or note on the comparison between Klingon and Federation forces. I know I already harped on this, but isn't the Klingon Empire's ranks already rather thinned from the Dominion War and this war is just going to make it worse for them?

Just a note saying that "Aside from earlier rumors and briefings, the Klingons manufacturing capability is well within pre-war strength."

Something like that or showing the Federation is on the winning side of this.

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

I can definitely see one of the "Anti-Marine" staffers (can't think of a better *polite* term for it right now) arranging a Catch-22 mission for them. Do the mission and you look bad. Refuse the mission and you look bad. Unless the mission is obviously flawed and morally/legally questionable, they can't refuse it.

Which might make for an interesting plotline - if the Anti-Marine contingent considers them nothing more than overly violent knuckle-draggers and assigns them a mission that will serve only to make them look bad... what if the Marines refuse to undertake it because the cost in collateral damage would outweigh any potential benefits? That would be an interesting way to turn the tables on them.

Of course, this would require the staffers to be on the idiotic side of things, and so far those opposed to the Marines haven't been shown to be stupid. Perhaps misguided, but not stupid.

First off I'd like to give warning that, due to a course I am taking at the moment, chapter 13 may be delayed a week or so.

Faxmodem1: Your right. I dropped the ball on that explanation. I had the perfect opportunity to get a quick overview of the war so far in, and it just slipped my mind. I will be throwing it in as soon as I can make it believable. My mind has just been very focused on getting the Counselor to be a real person and not have him devolve into, as you called it, a strawman.

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Hey, if life gets in the way, it gets in the way.

Look forward to the next chapter. A prison bigger than the Venture, just wow.

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

A Marine cannot refuse orders. A soldier doesn't get to decide what the big picture is, and unless they are asked to commit an obvious war crime, they don't get to evaluate what 'too much collatoral damage' is.

---

Stuart: The only problem is, I'm losing track of which universe I'm in.
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker

A Marine most certainly *CAN* refuse an illegal order. Any member of the military (in the US, at least) is required to. There's no hiding behind "I was just following orders" any more. The key term here is "illegal," however. Like you said, certain big picture decisions are beyond the purvey of the individual soldier to dispute. But there are certain small picture details that are left up to the soldier to decide. An order to shoot up a bunch of civilians, for example. Acts that would violate the Law of Armed Conflict. There are all sorts of examples that they give us (non-Marines) as to what constitutes "legal" versus "illegal" orders. Although the orders that come from on high are generally vetted thoroughly before they are issued, so you just go with them unless it's something really heinous. It's the orders from lower-tier officers and NCOs that should receive greater scrutiny from the S.O.B. in the mud.

And there's also the fact that while a soldier may be in the right to refuse an illegal order, it usually isn't good for one's career no matter how justified the refusal is.

Which, as far as this particular story is concerned, is probably a moot point. The ones most likely to cause trouble for the Federation Marines by contriving to make them look bad won't be total idiots, if the (very well-written) ship's councilor is any indication. I don't think the author of this is going to give the Marines and those sympathetic to them any easy outs... which will make for a much more compelling read.

Chapter 12

“Now that, Commander. Is what we in the Engineering department call, a problem.” I sighed and
shook my head slowly.

“Yeah.” I said with another sigh. “Can you fix it?” Matt glanced at me before looking back at the shattered device.

“Of course we can fix it. We can fix anything. I'm just not sure we can fix it in time to do anyone any good.” He lifted another piece of debris that had once been part of a rather complicated control system to get a better look. “We can replace most of the control components from stocks. Most of the primary systems are going to have to be fabricated. I mean will you look at this, Jer?” He pointed to something that might have been a computer once upon a time.

“I can see it, Matt. I just don't know what it is. Or used to be for that matter.” Cocking my head to the side did not improve matters. I still had no real idea what it was he was pointing at.

“That, Commander. Used to be the main controller for the graviton generator.” He pointed at another piece of shattered technology. “Over here we have what used to be the main aiming mechanism. You can see how the magnetic bearings failed in the generator. Somehow the failure avoided tripping the fail-safes and caused the entire assembly to come apart in something that had a pretty close approximation to a bomb.” Looking at the dents and scratches in the bulkheads around me certainly gave his explanation added weight. The compartment had been stripped clean in the explosion. Every surface was scratched, every display cracked and even the floor was scorched. The next time a tractor emitter suffers a catastrophic failure, I plan to be elsewhere.

“So you can't fix it?”

“If I have enough time. Thirty-six hours is probably not going to be enough. Not if you don't want it to do this again, at the worst possible time, at least.”

“So you can't fix it?” I asked again, with a slight smile on my lips.

“I'll let you know by the end of the watch if it's possible or not, Commander.” He reached through a jagged hole in an access panel and pulled out a handful of broken isolinear chips. He looked at them in disgust before tossing them over his shoulder.

“Any idea how it happened, Matt?”

“It looks like an installation issue, the yard boys getting it wrong, but I won't know for sure until I do a thorough analysis.”

“Understood. At the moment it is more important to get it back online, but I want a full report as soon as you can get it too me.”

“Don't worry about that, Commander. I'll get to the bottom of it.” I smiled my thanks and left him to his job. Passing a half dozen Engineering ratings, I headed for the nearest exit into the regular areas of the ship. I had never really liked jefferies tubes. The tight quarters reminded me a little too strongly of my time in a life pod. The jefferies tube exit was just next to a turbolift. As I waited for the turbolift to arrive I tapped my communicator pin.

“XO for the Captain.” I did not have to wait long before he answered.

“Captain here. Go ahead, XO.”

“I just finished up with Commander Sands, sir, and he is quite unsure if he can complete the repairs before we arrive at our destination, and I fully concur, sir. The compartment looks like a holodeck after the Marines have been through it.” I stepped into the turbolift and selected my destination.

“Understood, XO. We'll just have to hope we don't have to recover any shuttles in a hurry.” The annoyance in the Captains voice was obvious.

“I'm sure another ship could take them if the tractor goes down, sir.”

“I'm sure they can, XO. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.”

“Yes, sir. XO out.” I stepped out of the turbolift into the cavernous main shuttlebay. Pausing just inside the bay I took a moment to look out the main entrance. Even without any aid I could see several of the starships that made up sixth fleet close behind us. The Gauntlet and the Myrmidon were flanking the Venture just outside the safety zone of our warp bubble. The Challenger with her Defiant escorts was a few kilometers away and all around there were more ships. Cruisers, Destroyers, Medical ships, Escorts, flying together in a way that had been extraordinarily rare over the past few years. Looking out at all those millions of tonnes of Starship I could not help but feel an odd mixture of pride and sadness. Pride in way all these people had come together to protect what they thought was important in the universe. Sadness in that it was needed at all.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts from the same old rutted tracks I had worn in my mind since the start of this war. Sometimes I just could not help but wish that Sergeii was right. Finally managing to clear my head I looked around and spotted the reason I was in the shuttlebay. I walked over to Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda and her assault shuttle commander, Lieutenant Commander Grooves. Of course it was Commander Grooves these days. The Marine Assault Shuttle Group had doubled in size during our stay in Sol and Grooves had gotten a promotion. The Marines now had enough assault shuttles to drop two platoons in one go. Shari had been delighted to have the extra shuttles. Grooves on the other hand had fallen in love with the new assault shuttle bays in the saucer section of the ship. We had lost a number of compartments to the alterations, but we could now launch eight Danube or Longbow class shuttles in less than fourteen seconds. A vast improvement over the earlier record of four shuttles in thirty-two seconds. As I approached the two officers they paused in their discussion to greet me.

“Colonel, Commander.” I said in greeting.

“Commander.” Shari said with a smile. “Ready for your class?”

“Almost Colonel. I just came from shuttlebay 4. I'm afraid the bays main tractor is offline at the moment. Commander Sands believes he can fix it, just not in time for the assault.” The two officers looked at each other and exchanged glances.

“We will just have to make do without, Commander.” Grooves responded before turning to Shari. “I'll go update our contingency plans, ma'am. We might have to shift to our alternate recovery options.” She braced to attention before turning on her heel and headed for the turbolift.

“Any idea what happened, Jer?” Shari asked once we were alone. We started walking to the turbolift as I answered.

“It looks like the yard put it in wrong. Matt is going to do a full check to find out though.” We stepped into the turbolift as I brought her up to date with what was going on on the ship.

“Deck eight, port.” I told the computer. Shari gave me a questioning look. “I need to get my equipment. I didn't feel like dragging it through a bunch of jefferies tubes if I can avoid it.” She chuckled at the thought.

“I agree. You should have seen me the first time I tried to go through a j-tube in armor. I got stuck halfway through a hatch. Now that was embarrassing. Of course the development team for the armor was even more embarrassed.” She said with a slight smile.

“I assume they fixed the problem?” I asked after I knew I had control over my voice. She probably would not have killed me if I had let anything stronger than a smile escape, but I decided against taking any chances.

“Yes, they fixed the problem. We still have to be a little careful down there though.” I could believe that. The Marines armor was not something I would refer to as 'slim'.

I shook my head at the mental image of Shari stuck in a hatch as I keyed the entry to my cabin. While I went to the bedroom to get my gear bag, Shari stayed in the main room and looked at the dagger I had mounted on the bulkhead next to my desk. I came out of the bed room and walked up behind her. I dropped the bag on the floor and put my hands on her hips. Pulling her close I looked at the mounted dagger myself. She leaned back against me and covered my hands with her own.

“How have the nightmares been?” She asked gently.

“Not to bad the last few nights. Not pleasant, but I've gotten enough sleep at least.”

“Good. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be there for you. It's just too much with the Company at the moment.”

“Don't worry about it Shari. It's not the first time I've had to deal with nightmares.” I could see her brow furrow, she had not like that argument the first time I had voiced it and she would not like it the last time either. “Come on, we should get going before Top wonders what's taking us so long.” She turned around and held my face in her warm hands.

“Jer, honey. She already knows about us. And so does the Bosun and at least a half-dozen others.” She laughed softly at the surprise I showed. “Of course they know Jer, and I can guarantee that Captain Pelatier knows too. They are just being polite. More than polite, they're our friends and they're covering for us.” I smiled bemusedly.

“I guess you and the Captain are right Shari. I do need to get better at this whole politics thing.”

“Yes, you do, but don't worry. You have some good teachers.” She kissed me quickly before heading to the door. I picked up my bag and followed her out.



“Nail 'em!” The command from Top rang in my ears and I reacted. My right hand dropped, seeking the now familiar grip of my pistol. My left hand flat against my stomach. Feeling the grip fill my hand as my fingers curled around it I pressed the lock on the holster, freeing my pistol. My left hand met it on the way up, pulling back gently even as my right hand pushed the pistol up and out. My right foot slid back just as my sights came into view. The front sight snapped into place on the target, the overlay from my HUD in perfect agreement. My right index finger slid inside the trigger guard at the same moment my left thumb snapped the safety down. The trigger broke, clean and true to the rear. The flash covered the target for a fraction of a second. I released the trigger, reset my sights and pulled the trigger again, and again. The pulses from the pistol slammed down range, one after another seeking the targets in front of me. After a moment it was all over. I flicked the safety back on as I lowered the weapon slightly and glanced both ways. Seeing no more targets I returned it to it's resting place.

“Not bad at all, Commander.” First Sergeant Lindkvist noted. “You got all you shots on target.” She pushed a control on her PADD causing my targets to come back to life. The Klingon warriors now had glowing marks on their bodies. “However. These shots here.” Three glowing marks started pulsing. “Are low and to the right. Your still slapping the trigger a bit, sir.” I looked at the targets and remembered the shots in question. Thinking back I could remember the rushed feeling I felt when time was running out and I still had targets standing.

“Your right Top, as usual.” I did not bother to apologize. I had done that the first time I had made a mistake and top had simply responded with the question: 'Does your sorry make the shots go to the right place? Sir.'. That was probably the biggest surprise I had in the early parts of my training with the Marines. They actually tried their best to make you fail, and they were not interested in if you were sorry. Only in how you were going to avoid making the same mistake again.

“Damn straight, and don't you forget it. Sir.” She winked at me before moving on to the Marine on my right. Sergeant Aisdottir was another Marine that had been promoted to fill a vacancy in the Company after the fighting on Tenean IV and Beta Sceptri. She was now a Squad Leader in Saber Platoon. Top checked her targets and simply grunted before moving on down the line. The Sergeant's targets had all been hit three times. Twice in the chest and once in the head. I looked over at her.

“How do you do that, Sergeant? I can barely hit the targets at all with so little time available.” She patted her holstered pistol.

“It's actually quite simple, sir. I've put about twenty-five thousand rounds through this weapon, Commander.” I shook my head.

“I really have to stop getting surprised at how hard you Marines train sometime, Sergeant.” She smiled at me before responding.

“Train hard, fight easy, sir. That's drilled into us from the moment we arrive at the basic course, sir.”

“Well it certainly shows Sergeant.” She smiled her thanks before turning back down range. Looking over to my left I saw that Sandra was still uncomfortable with the Marine issue phaser pistol, she was holding it in her hands as she studied it. She looked up at me with an embarrassed smile before holstering the pistol.

“Sorry, Commander. I'm still getting used to these things.”

“That's okay, Sandra.” I told her. “it took me quite a while to get comfortable with them myself.” She opened her mouth to say something, only to shut it as my com badge 'bleeped'.

“XO here. Go ahead.

“Lieutenant Swanson here, sir. We just got a report from one of the screening squadrons. They are under attack by a group of Klingon warships. We have no more information at the moment. Captain Pelatier sends his regards and requests your presence on the bridge.”

“Understood, Lieutenant. I'll be there shortly.” I relayed the news to the rest of the training group before packing my gear back in it's bag and heading out for the bridge with Lieutenant Commander Roland on my heals. The Marines went to get suited up. Just in case.



I stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge just in time to catch the end of a conference call with Vice Admiral ch'Anen, Captain Collins of the Challenger and Captain Plichta, the Fleet Ops officer. I walked over to my chair next to the Captain, acknowledging the bridge crew on my way. Sergeii, quite pointedly, did not acknowledge my arrival.

“...so I sent 3rd squadron to reinforce 8th squadron. We don't think there are any more enemy forces in the area at the moment, but just in case, I have ordered the fleet to yellow alert and to increase speed to warp nine point five. You should all have the revised schedule in your systems by now. The short version is that we are now about twenty-eight hours from our target instead of thirty-four. Captain Pelatier, Captain Collins, I am also detailing the rest of 12th squadron to watch over you until the battle is over. We need your Marines on the ground doing their job. Not spread out across the system by a lucky shot from a Klingon. Oh, and Captain Pelatier?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Would you please have Colonel Nakhoda join us on this call.”

“Of course, sir.” The Captain looked over at me with a very communicative expression. I mouthed the words 'yes, sir.' and turned to my panel. I did a quick check as to where she was. Seeing she was in a room with a pickup I sent a call straight there. The Marine officers locker room was not a particularly large room, and the five people in the room were in various stages of undress. Shari quickly sealed the front of her skinsuit and waved the other officers out of the com's field of view.

“Sorry, Jer. What's up?” She said in my ear. I had cut the sound and had her audio transferred to my new implants instead.

“Admiral ch'Anen wants to talk to you Shari.” I subvocalized. Captain Plichta on the main viewscreen gave me an odd look as I stared at my panel. Captain Collins simply raised an eyebrow, she had obviously been introduced to the Marines more covert systems.

“I'll be on the bridge in three minutes.”

“Don't bother. I'll transfer this call to the conference.” She quickly ran her hands through her hair and made sure she was as presentable as possible in a uniform that might as well have been painted on. She also zoomed in with the com's camera so that she was only visible from the shoulders up. I tapped in a command and Shari's image came to life just below Captain Collins.

“Ah, Colonel. Good of you to join us. Might I ask why you are out of uniform?” The Admiral did not seem upset, simply curious.

“I was just getting into my armor, sir. This is the mechanical counter pressure suit that protects us from death pressure environments, sir.” She responded crisply.

“Ah, I see, Colonel. There has been a slight change in plans. We are attacking earlier and in slightly lesser strength than originally planned. So I want you to detach a unit for boarding parties. As well as two of your shuttles.” I knew Shari couldn't have liked that, her forces on the ground would be small enough as it was. Her response on the other hand was simply an 'aye aye, sir', with no indication that she disliked the order. I wished more of my people would react like that when they got orders they did not like. The Admiral simply nodded in satisfaction. “Are there any questions?” He paused briefly. “Very well. Final pre-assault conference will be held at sixteen hundred tomorrow. Admiral ch'Anen out.”

The images on the viewscreen blanked out one by one until only Shari's remained.

“Ops, bring us to yellow alert. Colonel, finish suiting up, then come to the conference lounge. Bring your XO.” Captain Pelatier said as soon as Shari was the only person left in the call.

“Understood sir. We will be there in a few minutes.” She cut the com feed just as the yellow alert signal came over the ship wide intercom. Every screen on the ship was displaying the alert and my panel showed the the various departments reporting their readiness. After a few minutes Lieutenant Swanson spoke up behind us.

“Sir, all deflector systems are at full ready status. Phaser systems are at full ready as well. Torpedo tubes are warm but empty.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.” He responded before turning to me. “How's our reaction time, XO?”

“Not bad, sir.” I continued studying the reports coming up on my screen even as I answered. “I think we need to run a few more drills in engineering and medical. Security and the Marines report that they are at their stations.”

“Good enough for now XO.” He stood up as Shari and her XO stepped out of the turbolift. “XO, you have the bridge. Commander Roland, Commander Grigorii, Colonel, Lieutenant, if you would accompany me please.”

“Aye, sir. I have the bridge.” Surprise at the Captain excluding me from the meeting was short lived. It was one of the Executive Officers duties to to have the bridge when the Captain was absent, so I simply took the Captains chair as Sandra's replacement, Lieutenant Giolias sat down at ops. Leaning back in the chair I hoped to have as my own one day I gazed at the main viewscreen. It was currently showing a schematic of 6th Fleet. 128 ships spread out over millions of kilometers of empty space. I could see the battle going on between 3rd and 8th squadrons and the Klingons trying to stop us from reaching our targets. The engagement seemed to be going very well. They had fallen behind the main body of the fleet, and I could see very little casualties among the Federation ships. The Klingons had on the other hand lost three ships so far. And the final two seemed to be trying to run away. Both Federation squadrons broke of the fight and returned to the main fleet. The Klingon ships were no longer a threat. They might be able to overhaul us given enough time, if they felt like committing suicide.

I heard the door leading to the conference lounge open behind me and turned slightly to see who it was. Sergeii froze before entering the bridge. He look straight at me. The man was furious about something and seeing me did nothing to improve his mood. The corner of his mouth drew up in a snarl as he tore his eyes away from me and stormed across the bridge to the turbolift. I looked at Lieutenant Swanson, who just shrugged, it was quite clear that she had no more idea than me what was going on. I considered contacting the Captain or Shari to see what had happened. My curiosity lost in the end to professionalism. I was sure Shari would tell me what had happened later, so I simply returned my attention to the main viewscreen. I noted that one of the ships in 8th Squadron was showing as damaged. The Klingons must have gotten a few hits of their own in during the short engagement. I made a note in the system to have Sandra check with her opposite on the damaged ship, to see if there was anything we could do to help. Having done all that I could, I leaned back in the Captain's chair and listened to the rest of the bridge at work.



“...and then he stood up, asked the Captain's permission to leave, I thought was quite impressive, and stormed out of the room. It's not like we told him anything he hadn't heard before. I know he was involved in at least some of the planning. Wasn't he?” I shrugged at Shari's question, and sunk further down into the couch.

“I didn't hear much about him during our stay in Sol. Except for in the cafe, I can't remember even seeing him. Of course I was mostly on the Venture, making sure the yard techs did what we needed. Well, helping Matt make sure we got what we needed.” She smiled at that. My longstanding aversion to all things engineering showing itself again.

“I guess he missed them then. His arguments that we should call on them and negotiate a surrender certainly suggests he was unfamiliar with our plans. I think what upset him the most was how many Klingons are going to get killed if they don't heed our warnings when the fleet destroys the planet side industries. When I pointed out that we would give them several hours to evacuate he gave me a disgusted look before responding, 'We are still going to kill civilians, Colonel, and you know it'. Not even Sandra's comment about rescuing the Ambassador seemed to change his mind.”

“I know, Shari, and this operation is far more important than simply recovering Ambassador Worf and any other survivors we might find. We have to knock their industrial base back if we are going to have any chance of winning this war. And we have to do it fast, before the post Dominion generation of Klingons reach military age. We are winning now, but not by much. It would not take a lot to tip the balance to their side.”

“We still have at least two years left, Jer. More like three or four before they can go into service properly. And starships are expensive in every form of the word.” She took a sip from her cup, frowned at the lack of coffee and turned to the coffee maker my mother had given me to get more.

“Yes they are, Shari. The problem is that they're industrial capacity remains unharmed after the Dominion War. While ours took a real beating, and is still not fully up to pre-war levels. We need to take out as much of their capacity to wage war as we can, while we still can. If they can get this new generation of warriors to the front. Even if they only put them in K'Vorts they can overrun us with sheer numbers.”

“Not on the ground they can't.” Her smile was confident and aggressive when she turned back to me, holding up the coffee pot.

“I guess not.” I smiled and held out my cup. She refilled it from the pot before returning it to the coffee maker. “The problem is, they have shown they are a lot more likely to use orbital bombardment than we are. You and your people are good Colonel, but you can't stand up to that kind of fire for long.”

“It is so very nice to have a starship on call for fire.” She said with a blissful look and a sip from her cup. She sat down next to me on the couch and stared out of the windows. Her expression serious once more. “He worries me, Jer. I'm afraid his conscience is going to get him to do something stupid eventually. Or that one of his friends back at HQ are going to do something stupid.”

I sat up a bit and turned towards her. “What have you heard, Shari?”

“Well, you know the Captain we saw him meet back on Earth?”

“You mean Admiral Djokovic's aide?”

“That's the one. I did a little checking with some old friends, and it seems that the Captain and the Admiral have been asking quite a few questions about the Marines lately. She seems to be trying to have the responsibility of training new Marines transferred to her department.”

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. When the Marines had been formed, they had been given full autonomy to train their own personnel. The reasoning had been simple, there had been no qualified Marine trainers in Starfleet. General LeMay and Sergeant Major Wyatt had essentially created the entire training program from scratch. Now that there were qualified instructors on the other hand I could see how the Marines training was to be integrated with the rest of Starfleet. “I was under the impression you were going to start accepting Academy graduates straight into the Marines soon.”

“We are. As soon as Admiral Djokovic accepts the training and education requirements from General LeMay. I happen to know she has sent the entire curriculum back to the General several times for 'revisions'.”

“That doesn't sound unreasonable Shari.” She gave me a look before answering.

“It is when she wants to remove high stress psychology and unarmed combat from the training schedule. Not to mention a number of other courses that she doesn't like.” Her face twisted in disgust. “I just wish they could leave us alone to our job.” I nodded in understanding sympathy as I starred out the windows and thought about my fights with the Counselor. We were both silent for a while as our thoughts raced.

“Well, if they can't leave you alone, at least you get to play with fun toys.” I said with a bit of forced cheer and waved at the suit of armor resting in it's carrying case. She looked up at me for a moment before looking back out the window. Her mood still dark.

Before either of us thought of something more to say a quiet alarm went off in our implants.

“Two hours until arrival at the Fa'Rov system, Commander.” I had never really like the standard voice settings for the computers on Starfleet's vessels. I always got the impression it was nagging me about something.

“Well, Shari. I guess it's time to go to work.” I noted, unnecessarily and with a great deal of reluctance. She rested her head on my shoulder for long enough to take a deep breath. We both stood up and I followed her to the door.

“I'll see you on the bridge soon. I have to get some things ready before we arrive.” She nodded gently before looking back at me with a smile.

“Go get your armor on Jer. I know it still makes you a bit uncomfortable wearing it around the ship, but I think it looks good on you.” Before I could think of a suitable response, she had kissed me and walked out the door.



I stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge and looked around. Several of the people present looked at me in surprise. I couldn't really blame them. As I had noted several times before, the armor I was wearing had not been designed to be subtle in any casual setting. I was not the only one on the bridge wearing it though. Sandra Roland looked even more uncomfortable than I was where she sat in the Captain's chair. Her hair pulled up tight, and her helmet strapped to the side of her armor. I crossed to the bridge to her, relieving Sandra of the bridge watch, before settling down as I waited for the Captain to arrive. I did not have to wait for long.

“XO, I have the bridge.” I stood up and braced to attention as the Captain stepped out of his ready room. He paused for a moment while he took in mine and Sandra's armor.

“Aye aye, sir. You have the bridge.” I sat down in my chair at the Captains right hand. The Captain sat down in his chair, glancing at the readouts on his console. Satisfied, he looked up at Sandra.

“Ops, contact the flag ship. Inform them of our readiness.”

“Aye, sir.” Lieutenant Commander Roland busied herself with her console as the Captain turned slightly to Lieutenant Swanson.

“Tactical. Take us to Red Alert.” The Lieutenant responded with a 'Yes, sir.'. Mere moments later the alarm sounded through out the ship, main lights dimming while flashing red ones replaced them.

“Captain, Admiral ch'Anen is setting up an all ships broadcast.”

“Put it on the main viewscreen, Ops.”

“Yes, sir.” Sandra tapped a control and Admiral ch'Anen came to life in front of us.

“To all ships of 6th Fleet. The enemy has fallen for our deception plan and redeployed a significant amount of ships to the wrong sector of space. As a result of this, it appears that we only face six squadrons worth of mobile opposition. Based on that I am implementing operations plan Echo 3. You all know you jobs. You all know the plan. All that is left, is to do it and then go home. Good luck and good hunting. Admiral ch'Anen out.” The viewscreen returned to a schematic of the fleet as it started slowly splitting up.

“Captain, all stations report manned and ready.” Sandra reported. The Captain nodded briskly before turning slightly to Lieutenant Sierra at the helm.

“Very well. Helm, take us in.”

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Another well enjoyed chapter - I'm quite glad to see this story continued. The pacing of the story is excellent, and the overall plot has been very well constructed. Keep up the good work.

Chapter 13

Getting over the feeling that I looked odd, or funny in my armor was something I thought would take me a few weeks to get over. I really should have known better. Being thrown into my restraints was far less painful in armor than in my regular uniform.

“Ops, what's the status on our escort?” Captain Pelatier was his usual calm self despite the near constant shocks that threatened to throw every person without restraints on the bridge to the floor.

“Gauntlet and Myrmidon are still at or near 100%, sir. Halberd has taken a few hits and may need to repair her warp drive, but otherwise she is fine.” Sandra paused briefly as something changed on her display.

“And Battleaxe, Ops?” The Captain prompted.

“She is pulling out of action, sir. She reports having very little left operational except her core and drive.”

On the viewscreen a quarter of our escort pulled away from us and leapt into warp. A fraction of a second later a bright glare flared up from where USS Battleaxe had tried to break off.

“Battleaxe is gone, sir.” Sandra reported from the ops position. A curse was heard from behind me on the bridge. “Her warp core must have sustained damage they missed.”

“Captain, shields are down to sixty-three percent.” I glanced up at Lieutenant Swanson as she made her report.

“Very well, Lieutenant.” The Captain responded before turning to Lieutenant Sierra at the helm. “Helm, bring us in closer to Challenger. Ops, tie us in to their tactical net. The Klingons really don't seem to like Galaxies.”

I turned back to my console and started working through the details involved in linking our tactical network, that we already shared with the remaining Defiants, with the Challenger and her escorts. At the same time I was monitoring several other information feeds from around the ship. I had just finished warning the rest of the ships involved when a priority signal started flashing on my console. Punching up the information made me curse out loud causing Captain Pelatier to turn to me.

“What's wrong, XO?”

“Our aft phaser banks are offline, Captain. Commander Sands reports that a plasma conduit broke open and the banks simply don't have power. He's shut down the feed and repair crews are on their way. No estimate for repair time yet, sir.”

“Very well, Commander. Keep me informed.” The Captain did not seem particularly worried, his manor remained calm despite us having lost a significant portion of our phaser coverage.

I confirmed that the bridge had received the information on my console before calling up the next priority signal. This one was from the Challenger, informing us of the state of their tactical net and with a quick word of welcome from Captain Collins. The main viewscreen showed our formation shift as our impromptu squadron came together. With no priority signals waiting I opened up a tactical schematic of the star system on my console. The attack was not really going to plan yet. The other arm of our pincer movement had come in over ten minutes early, letting the remaining mobile Klingon ships in the system concentrate on them, instead of being split between them and our portion of the attack. Luckily, Admiral ch'Anen and the bulk of the fleet had the main portion of the Klingon defenses engaged out system. The fifth planet, a smallish gas giant was now witness to the main battle to control the system. So far 6th fleet was doing very well. If I was any judge they would destroy the last of the enemy formation within the next few minutes. Hopefully in time to come to task group two's rescue. But they would have to hurry. Already 14th squadron was mostly gone, and the other two squadrons were barely better off. I noted the Captain was looking at the same thing I was. He looked back up at Sandra at Ops.

“Ops, send another request to the flag. Try to get us a release to go help 2nd group.”

“Aye, sir. Sending request.” As we all waited for a response from Commodore Parks, 3rd task groups CO, The last of the enemy Destroyers blocking our path to the planet turned and jumped to warp in the direction of 2nd group. The Captain's eyes narrowed as 2nd group suddenly got more problems to worry about.

“Sir, Orders from Commodore Parks. Task group three is to dress formation and initiate contingency Hotel 6. Two minutes to initiation, sir.”

“Helm, make it so. XO, how is our link to the Challengers tactical net?”

“Everything looks good from this end, sir.” I answered after checking my console. The Captain did not have much time to ponder the new information before Lieutenant Sierra at the helm spoke up.

“Sir, we are coming up on the initiation time in fifteen seconds.”

“Take us in Helm.” As the counter on the main viewscreen reached zero we leapt into warp for a fraction of a second, arriving at 2nd task groups position in pursuit of the fleeing Klingon warships.

The screen was littered with shattered ships. In the fleeting moments I had before we started maneuvering against the Klingons, I managed to identify the remains of at least three different Federation ships. These were the exception among a field of drifting, spinning pieces that were unidentifiable.

The viewscreen lit up with the massed fire of the task group as we brought the Klingons within range. Phasers and torpedoes slammed into the Klingons, just as the Klingons continued to fire at the shattered remnants of task group 2. It was obvious from the Federation ships maneuvers that the task group flagship, as well as the squadron flagships had been taken out of action. They fought as individual ships, not as the integrated units the Federation had begun organizing after the Dominion war. This left them open to attacks that could otherwise have been blunted or even completely negated. A ship marked as the USS Colombia suffered a series of torpedo hits that brought down their shields. The remaining hits slammed into their engineering section. Without any warning the ship vanished in a star bright explosion as her warp core was breached.

“Tactical, I want this ship destroyed.” The Captain snapped as he dropped a targeting icon on the Klingon cruiser responsible for Colombia's death.

“Aye, sir. Locking onto your target. targeting information uploaded to squadron net.” Lieutenant Swanson paused briefly as her weapons cycled and a rapid string of confirmations came from the other ships in our squadron. “Squadron firing now, Captain!” Phaser blasts and torpedoes flashed on the viewscreen as Challenger and our Defiant escorts joined their fire to ours. The Klingon cruiser staggered under our fire for a few seconds before its shields failed and a torpedo found it's way into the ship. The warp core breach was just as bright this time as all the other one I had seen.

“Very good, Tactical! Now do it again with the next ship on the list.” The Captain sounded quite pleased with the Lieutenant, and Marie wore a huge grin from the praise in the Captain's voice.

The viewscreen swung around rapidly as Lieutenant Sierra brought us around with the rest of our ad hoc squadron to engage a cruiser that was still firing on an Intrepid from the 2nd task group. The results of our fire was much the same this time as well.

***

“...so except for some minor damage to the shield generators and the burst plasma conduit, we are in the same shape now as we were before the battle, Captain.” Matt wiped sweat from his forehead as he finished his report on the damage we had sustained, or lack there of in this case.

“Time for repairs on the shields?” Captain Pelatier asked.

“We just need to replace some capacitors that took a beating. The primary systems will be back up in about twenty minutes. Until then we have full power available through the secondary systems.”

“Understood. We should be heading in system shortly, so try to expedite the repairs. I want every shield system we have at full power when we hit low orbit for the Marines drop.” Matt nodded on the screen.

“Yes, sir. We'll get it done.”

“Good work Lieutenant Commander. Bridge out.” The main viewscreen went back to showing the Fa'Rov system as it currently stood. The primary target on the second planet was still protected by it's orbital defenses, but every other piece of Klingon hardware beyond their protection in the system was nothing more than expanding debris. The fleet was spread out around the planet in orbits that kept us far enough away to be safe from the defenses, but close enough to monitor the surface of the planet. It had been less than an hour since we destroyed the last of the out system mining nodes, the survivors of the workforce were gathered in one of our empty cargo bays with a squad of Marines to keep the company.

“Colonel Nakhoda, how are our guests?” The Captain asked.

“They seem to be doing fine, sir. No injuries have been reported and they seem to have heard of us Marines before. I would not have expected any captured Klingon to be as calm as these ones seem to be. We have only had to use force on one person so far.” Counselor Grigorii's expression tightened at that last comment, but he chose not to respond. To his credit he did not voice his opinions in public settings, and even in private he did his best to maintain a civil atmosphere. Our personalities simply seemed to be so incompatible that a calm measured discussion was extraordinarily hard. In fact, I sometimes suspected that it was only the memory of our past friendship that had stopped our disagreement from boiling over completely.

“Will you be able to spare the Marines currently guarding our prisoners during your drop, Colonel.” The Captain continued.

“I have spoken with Lieutenant Swanson, and we are confident her security personnel can take over the guard duties during our drop, sir.” The Captain and I both glanced at Marie. She nodded, firmly in agreement with Shari's statement. The Captain thought for a few seconds before deciding.

“Then I will leave it in your hands Lieutenant Swanson.”

“Yes, sir. We will take care of it.”

“And speaking of drops, how are you set Colonel?”

“Both companies are prepped and ready to go, Captain. I have escorts standing by for your team, Commander.” She waved at me in emphasis before turning back to the Captain. “As soon as the orbital defenses have been reduced, and the preliminary bombardment is complete we can drop. I estimate we should be on the ground in less than an hour, Captain. If possible I would like to have Commander Sorenson and Lieutenant Commander Roland assemble their away teams immediately, sir. We cannot count on the available transport window being open for long, and I would hate to have them miss it, sir.” Sandra and I glanced at each other as we waited for the Captain's decision.

“XO, Commander, go get ready.” He said after a few moments. “We aren't in on the final assault anyway.” I braced to attention in front of the Captain, a habit that had started to spread throughout the ship after Tenean IV, before heading for the turbolift with Shari and Sandra following close behind.

***

We split up during the ride in the turbolift. Shari had wished us luck before going to her headquarters section in transporter room 4. Sandra and I walked briskly to our own away teams. We paused just outside the transporter rooms our away teams were waiting in.

“Watch yourself down there, Sandra.” I said to her. She smiled with as much confidence she could through her nervousness.

“Don't worry, Jer. You just try not to get beat up by the Marines again” Her smile grew a bit more mischievous at that last and I chuckled in response.

“I'll try, Sandra. Good luck.” To my surprise she snapped to attention before answering.

“And good luck to you, sir.” I braced to attention myself before smiling one last time, then turning to my waiting away team and the .

The team waiting for me had been hand selected for this mission by myself, with a little input by the First Sergeant and Shari. Most of them were from security, with a few from engineering and medical thrown in. Ensign Rooney and the rest of the away team came to attention as I walked in the door. If it was odd seeing a single Starfleet officer in armor, then seven Starfleet personnel in armor was seven times as odd.

“Sir, Lieutenant Martins sent a message a few minutes ago that he would be detailing a fireteam to give us security down on the planet.” Ensign Rooney reported as she handed me a rifle to compliment the pistol that was riding on my right thigh. The young Ensign was on her first cruise out of the Academy and had spent quite a bit of time so far in the company of the Marines. I had her down as one of the security officers most likely to transfer over as soon as she could. She certainly had spent more hours than I had been able to mastering the new equipment we had. She looked far more comfortable in her armor than I did for instance.

“Thank you, Ensign.” I looked over at the rest of my away team as the timer at the top of my field of view ticked downward towards zero. “You have all been to the briefings. You all know what's supposed to happen, and you all know how to do your jobs, so I am only going to say this. We are here to rescue an Ambassador of the Federation. That is our one and only objective. The Marines are going to do the work and we are simply there to tag along in case our specific skills happen to be needed. Hopefully we won't be down on the surface for long. In case we are, just stay close to the rest of us and keep your heads calm.”

Just before the timer hit zero I walked over to the console on the wall and called up a view of the planet below us. As the timer hit zero the screen lit up like a fireworks display. Of course these fireworks were not meant to be pretty, they were meant to lay waste to every scrap of industry on the entire planet. Phasers and photon torpedoes flashed past the viewpoint as they slammed into the planet. White flashes appeared in dozens of different places, sparkling on the surface as brief new suns. Mere seconds after the first weapon had been launched large portions of the surface had been covered in smoke, ash and expanding mushroom clouds. The flashes jumped from place to place, marching swiftly towards the night side.

Once the flashes crossed the terminator between day and night, the command communications channel came to life with voices of Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda and Commander Grooves.

“Sword 6 actual to Javelin 6.”

“Javelin 6 here. Go ahead, Sword 6.”

“Javelin, commence your run.”

“Solid copy, Sword. Javelin launching in five.”

“Good hunting, Javelin. Sword out.”

Six seconds later the Marine assault shuttles swept past the the view screen on their way towards the burning planet below. Behind me the Marines that would be beaming down before us did their final equipment checks before the first group stepped up on the transporter pad. I spent the next few minutes with my away team, checking equipment, talking to them and doing my best to hide my own nervousness. Though the minutes seemed to stretch into hours as I waited to hear from Shari with only occasional updates on the situation sent down from the bridge. So when the communications channel opened between Shari and Grooves again I was surprised at my own thought of: 'That was fast.'

“Javelin 6 to Sword 6.”

“Sword 6 here. Go ahead Javelin.”

“Penetration of airspace and suppression of primary targets external resistance is completed. Dropping Marines in about fifteen seconds.”

“Solid copy Javelin 6. Good Work. Sword 6 out.” There was a brief pause before Shari came back up on the channel.

“All Sword units and navy away teams, this is Sword 6. Prepare for beam down.”

At that the Marines in the room finished their preparations and crouched on the transporter pad. The seconds ticked away far faster now as we all waited for the Marines on the planet to deploy their transport homers and report in. The Sergeant on the pad suddenly nodded his helmeted head sharply before addressing the Petty Officer in charge of the transport room.

“Chief Steihlman. Send us.”

“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Seconds later the transporter pad was empty and the next set of Marines were getting into position on it. As soon as the system had reset they too were sent to the surface in a flash of light.

And then it was our turn.

The flash of light, the momentary paralysis, all these were familiar and even comfortable experiences for me. The arrival at the other end was not familiar, and I hoped that it never would be. The first thing that grabbed my attention when the beam released me was a bolt of green energy that flashed past my head. I yelped in surprise and dropped to the ground as several more bolts flashed through the space I had just occupied.

“Away team, down!” I yelled over over our communication channel. Looking around me I realized that there had been a mistake with our target coordinates. Instead of appearing close to Shari's command post we had appeared in the middle of a long cooridor and right between the Marines pushing forward and the Klingon guards trying to hold them off. A red blinking icon on my display told me that one of my team had been hit and was down. Looking behind me I could see that Petty Officer Takagi was not going to get home to his family. He lay a meter or so behind me, crumpled in a pile as if he were an empty suit of armor that had been dropped carelessly on the floor. The smoke rising from his helmet told the story of his fate more clearly than any blinking red icon could. I looked around for anything that could give us cover, my desperation growing with every near miss from the Klingons in front of us.

“Commander Sorenson, stay down!” I heard the shout and started turning over to look at where it had come from, but before I could turn all the way several small, black shapes flashed by near the ceiling. I flattened myself against the floor and started raising my hands to cover my head. The explosions from the grenades came before my hands got halfway. The pressure wave pushed me back across the floor as shrapnel and other stuff bounced of my armor in a rapid series of thuds and dings. I was again treated to a barrage of weapons fire. This time it was going the other way and was far over head. Within seconds two Marine fireteams ran past us in that odd hunched way they moved, their weapons tight against their shoulders and pointed towards where the Klingons had been. They soon disapeared into the curtains of smoke and dust their grenades and other weapons had produced.

I shook my head to clear the confusion of our unexpected arrival, focusing instead on what was going on right now. Staying on the floor I pulled up my rifle as I checked the status on the away teams. Somehow we had only lost Takagi in my away team and Sandra's team was untouched. A few had taken hits but luckily the armor had held up to the punishment. Noting that there was no more fire above my head I went to one knee and looked over my team. Ensign Rooney was over against a wall, her rifle in her hands and pointed towards where the Marines had disapeared around a corner. Petty Officer Ramirez was lying flat on the ground with his hands covering his head. The others were somewhere between those two extremes. The next set of Marines passed us as I spoke to my team.

“Everybody up. We need to get out of here and meet up with the Colonel. Ensign Rooney, call the Venture and report on the situation. Have them beam Takagi back to the ship when the get the spare capacity.” I paused and looked at my people. Most of them, in fact all of them except Ramirez were back on their feet. I looked over at Chief Petty Officer Jones who was kneeling next to Takagi's silent form with a medical tricorder in her hand. She simply looked back and shook her head. Nodding in acceptance of the news that Takagi indeed was dead I knelt by Ramirez and tapped him on the shoulder after clearing my visor. He nearly jumped out of his armor. He had rolled onto his back and pushed himself against the nearest wall before he recognized me. I reached over and cleared his visor.

“Mark. Are you okay?” I asked him. Tears ran down his cheeks, his eyes wide as he shook his head.

“Ito, he just...died.” Ramirez stammered before pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his face. I stood up and turned to Ensign Rooney.

“Ensign, have any available ship beam Ramirez on board. Warn them he might not be tracking very well.” I turned away to the next matter as she responded with a crisp 'aye, aye'. If I had stopped and thought about it I would have been amazed that the fear and worry I had felt while we waited to beam down was gone. Well, not gone exactly. I was still terrified but I just didn't seem to notice it. Of course I didn't have time to stop and examine my own emotions, I was to busy.

“We have two casualties, Shari. One dead and one psyche. I'm having them both beamed out as soon as possible.” There was a slight pause over our private channel.

“Okay, Jer. We are two stories above you at the moment and your escort just beamed to this position. I'm going to detail another fireteam to watch your backs until we can join up. Wait there for them then come meet us at our next position. It should be faster for you to just trail the lead units instead of backtracking to meet up with us here. Besides, we should be shifting in a few minutes.” I frowned slightly and cocked my head before answering.

“What's up? Shouldn't we have this place clear soon?”

“We should have. But someone forgot to tell the Klingons about the plan. There are about three times more of them than we had expected.” I whistled silently at that. “So it's taking us a lot longer to clear them out of this maze than we had expected.” She finished with without hiding the frustration she would never have let show on a public channel.

“Understood Shari. We'll hold here until we get our backup then come meet you. Sorenson out.” We didn't have to wait long for our new bodyguards. Ramirez and Takagi had barely faded from the beam out flash when our new escort arrived. Lieutenant Martins came around the corner with Gunny Omma and at least half his platoon. The Lieutenant stopped in front of me with the Gunny and a Corporal I had seen only in passing.

“Commander Sorenson, this is Corporal Andropov. His Fireteam is going to watch your backs for the rest of the operation.”

“Thanks Lieutenant. I'll make sure to get him back to you in one piece.” The Lieutenant only smiled at me from behind his cleared visor. He then nodded in greeting and stalked away with Gunny Omma and the rest of his command team following closely on his heals. I turned to the Corporal who stood at attention with his Fireteam.

“At ease Corporal. Have you been told what we need to do?”

“Yes sir.” His voice was unusually harsh and he had an odd accent I had not heard often.

“Where are you from, Corporal?”

“Novo Moskva, sir” I smiled and nodded at the confirmation of my hunch.

“That's what I thought, Corporal. Shall we move out?”

“Yes, sir.” He glanced briefly at his Fireteam in a silent command. They took up their positions without any hesitation as we set off down the corridor to meet up with Shari's command group.

The corridors we moved through showed how hard the fighting was. Heavy smoke and dust swirled in the air, concealing in one moment and revealing in the next. Every surface of every room we saw told the same pockmarked, bloodstained, body strewn tale. Most of the bodies we passed were Klingon, but it was clear that the Marines had paid in blood every step of the way. We checked every fallen warrior we passed. We found few survivors. All the while we heard the continuous sound of the Marines fighting their way forward against the Klingons deeper in the dark places of the prison. We would stop from time to time when we caught up to the units pushing forward. It was always easy to tell when it was time to stop. We would round a corner and see the flashes of reflected light around the next corner. Corporal Andropovs Marines would take positions to watch out for any Klingons the rest of the Marines had missed while we waited for the fighting to die down in front of us.

It took us far longer than I would have expected from our pre mission briefings to go from where we beamed in to where we were to meet up with Shari. I already knew our original estimates of how many Klingons where stationed here was far lower than in reality, I just wasn't prepared for how wrong they were. We passed more dead Klingons in the fifteen minutes it took us to get to the company command post than was supposed to have been in the entire facility. Once we arrived and passed through the sentries we were meet with a beehive of activity as Shari and her staff managed the battle.

“Get Saber moving to the east cellblock immediately.” Shari was apparently talking to a large holographic model of the prison. She waited a few seconds, obviously listening to whoever she had given the order to before nodding her head with a quick 'Sword 6 out' even as she turned to Captain Arisu who was pointing out something on the model floating in front of them. Shari nodded again and made a quiet comment before looking up and smiling at me through her cleared visor. I could see the light of her helmet displays illuminating her face. I waved my away team over to where Sandra's team was staying out of the way of the Marines managing what was apparently a full battle and not a simple extraction. I walked over to the hologram floating in a circle of armored Marines. Apparently there was something time sensitive going on at the moment as none of them did more than nod at me before going back to their duties. Only Sandra came over to me as I joined the group.

“How's it going, Sandra?”

“Not bad considering how wrong our intelligence was, Commander.” She responded with a quick wave at the hologram. “I'm not quite following everything they are doing, but they seem to be making progress towards Ambassador Worf, sir.” She punctuated her comment by pointing to a green icon near the bottom of the hologram. The blue icons of the Marines were closing in on it slowly but steadily.

I focused on the icons, trying to discern the details of the action from what was in many ways just a mass of colorful symbols. As the minutes passed I started noticing patterns and even managed to predict a few of the movements before they happened. I watched as the symbols for the lead units closed in on the the supposed position of Ambassador Worf. Closer and closer they came. Minutes slipped by as I watched the holographic representation of an immensely complex three dimensional battle take place. In a rush of sudden movement the Marines at the front removed the last obstacles to their progress. I tapped into the units communications a few seconds before they arrived at their target.

“4-1, hold the front. 3-2 stack on the door.” Lieutenant Gardner's tone of voice was calm, almost bored as he guided his Marines to their positions. On the hologram I could see the teams moving rapidly to their new positions. Gunnery Sergeant Williams leaned a little closer to the projection in anticipation.

“3-2, go, go, go.”

“Fire in the hole!” This was from Corporal Muir, the team leader for Saber 3-2. The icon of the team moved through a door icon that was quickly changed from 'locked' to 'no door'. I just hoped they had not over done the explosives on this particular door. As luck and training, but mostly training would have it they had not used to much as mere seconds later a short transmission was heard by everyone in the complex.

“Item secured. Extracting.”

---

"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Well, unless that's not the real Worf, it seems they only had one real hiccup and that was a bad LZ for their landing spot and bad intel. So, are the Klingons in their traditional armor that they all wear in the show? The kind that doesn't stop any energy weapons or blades?

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"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

Yes, the Klingon's are using the same uniform/clothing they have always used. They are incredibly conservative in the styling of their clothing, having had the same style for an absolute minimum of 280 years with only trivial changes.

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"When in doubt, assume everything is fucked."
"Life is better when you have a stick."

Can't remember if I've posted in this before - if not, really enjoying the story and the take on TNG-era, always thought there were darker sides to it, that you saw but did not have enough attention given to it, in favour of the faux-utopia they spent most of their time showing. If so, I probably just repeated myself, but still really enjoying it.



Not to take away from your point, but isn't it possible that the TNG-era Klingon uniform/clothing is a modern return to the older style, and they have had multiple styles in the interim? Or have we seen them wearing that same old style at too many points of the timeline for that to be plausible? Embarrassingly, I don't know enough about Trek to answer that for myself.

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Yes, I know my username is an oxyMORON, thankyou for pointing that out, you're very clever.

MEMBER: Evil Autistic Conspiracy. Working everyday to get as many kids immunized as possible to grow our numbers.

'I don't believe in gunship diplomacy, but a couple of battleships in low orbit over my enemy's capital can't but help negotiations.'

I think that Worf is going to grab a suit of armor and join the marines.

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Stuart: The only problem is, I'm losing track of which universe I'm in.
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker

Now, here's what I'm wondering. Worf sided with the Federation the last time the UFP and the Empire got into a tussle, and that was mostly because the invasion of Cardassia was unjustified in his eyes.(Worf being very big into honor before country and all that.) How will he view this war, as he apparently has the Klingon perspective on what happened, and could have a crisis of conscience on who to side on if the UFP(though Section 31) started the war? I doubt Worf would ever fight Starfleet, I'm just saying he might find himself on the fence.

Either way, I look forward to reading it.

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"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner