Chapter 14

“Commander Sorenson, USS Venture. It is good to see you again, Ambassador Worf.” I said in greeting as the Ambassador was escorted to the command post.

“The pleasure is mine, Commander Sorenson.” Worf looked at me from top to bottom, obviously evaluating my armor and equipment. I had removed my helmet when he entered the room to give him a human face he could relate to.

“I see the marine program has been more successful than I had been briefed. Your warriors are most impressive, Commander.” He continued after a moment.

“They are not my warriors, Ambassador. They are Colonel Nakhoda's Marines.” I responded as I pointed out the marine commander to him. Shari stepped forward and removed her own helmet .

“Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda, commanding officer, 2nd marine Battalion, sir. Thank you, Ambassador. I can give you a full briefing on our current status once we return to the ship, sir. However we should return quickly, sir.” Shari turned to Captain Arisu as Ambassador Worf nodded his consent.

“Sayuri, send out the fallback order.”

“Aye, aye, Colonel.” Captain Arisu turned away to confer with First Sergeant Lindkvist . It only took them a few seconds to get the Company moving towards the surface, or close enough that the Venture could lock onto their beacons and start beaming them out. What little equipment had been deployed in the room to support Shari and her officers was broken down and put away within a few minutes. We started moving out towards the surface and relative safety aboard the Venture. Not that we made it that far.

“Colonel, I just picked up a new transport jammer starting up.” One of the petty officers said over the channel shared by everyone in the command group. “It's far more powerful than the original jammer we destroyed down on level 28. I can't seem to get a fix on it's position. My systems are simply being overloaded.” He concluded with an expression that had not had time to figure out that fear was an appropriate response. Shari looked at the man, her confusion lasted no more than a second before her eyes widened.

“Sword 6 this is Cutlass 6. We are under heavy attack.” Shari looked over at Captain Sayuri who simply looked back, her face frozen behind her cleared visor.

“Cutlass 6, this is Sword 6 actual, report.”

“Sword 6, we have been engaged by a large force of Klingons from outside the facility. Estimate three hundred plus hostiles.” I could hear the unmistakeable sounds of combat in the background of the Captains transmission. In fact it sounded to me as if it were heavier than any combat I had seen so far. “I am sending video Colonel, you have to see this.

I opened up the video feed from Captain Lavatis in a corner of my display as I watched the marines around me fan out and take up security positions to guard against any surprise attack. The video feed from the surface finally stabilized enough that I could make out what was happening, and the view was just as unexpected as the Captain had hinted. I could see the Klingons advancing on the marine positions through a hail of phaser pulses and explosions from the marines more exotic weapons, and they were advancing a lot faster than they had managed at Tenean IV. The reason for their success seemed to be a large piece of metal carried in front of their bodies.

“Cutlass 6, are those shields they're using?”

“Sword 6, yes they are, and they are highly resistant to our regular phaser fire. We need a lot of concentrated fire to be able to penetrate them with our light weapons. Our heavier weapons are doing fine but we are running through our ammo and grenades faster than is sustainable. I don't think we can hold on until you get out ma'am. Not without air support at least.” Captain Lavatis sounded far calmer than I think I could have been in the same situation.

“Cutlass 6, Javelin is currently rearming at Venture. ETA is thirty plus minutes. Hold on another five minutes then start pulling back into the prison. I'm initiating Plan Zulu 3.”

“Understood, Sword 6. Cutlass will make a fighting withdrawal to the prison entrance. See you there, Colonel. Cutlass 6 out.”
“All Sword units!” She snapped to the Company wide channel. “Imminent attack. All units are to initiate Zulu 3. I repeat Zulu 3.”

The marines around us sprang into action. We all started running towards the turbolift shaft that was our way to the entrance level. It did not take us long to reach the lifts. We did not however enter them directly. Gunnery Sergeant Booth pointed to one of his team leaders who pointed to a private and then the closed doors of the turbolift. The marine walked into the lift under the cover of his team mates. The private was gone only a few seconds before coming out again. He stepped to the side of the doors and as soon as they had closed yelled at us, both over the local channel and with his helmet speakers. “Fire in the hole!” This announcement was followed by a muffled explosion and a puff of dust that had forced its way through the cracks in the lift door. Two marines immediately forced the newly broken lift door open to let a marine with a heavy rifle into the lift car, debris crunching underneath his armored boots. He pointed his weapon up through the new hole in the roof of the small compartment searching for threats. As soon as the rest of his fireteam had joined him they helped each other to the top of the car and from there up the ladder on the side of the shaft.

First Sergeant Lindkvist, satisfied that her marines were doing what they should turned to Ambassador Worf and myself.

“Ambassador, Commander, we are currently only 3 levels below ground level and we have no way of knowing if they can take over the lifts remotely. So we have disabled the system and are going up the ladders. Just take it slow and careful, sirs. It's the marines job to take the risk and we don't want anyone to fall. Ambassador, I would appreciate it if you would stay with Commander Sorensons group until we get back to the ship.” She paused as we both nodded in understanding before resetting her visor and return to the marine command group.

The Ambassador and I watched the marines flow past us and up the ladders as we waited for our turn to go. Their visors were blank dark mirrors that gave no clue to the thoughts and fears they must have at the moment. Despite the quite reasonable fear many of them must have felt at having the situation go bad so rapidly, not one of the marines showed any hint of it as they got on the ladders and climbed up and out of sight.

I turned back to Sandra and the rest of the away team as the third fire team went up the ladders. “Ladies and gentlemen, in a moment the marines are going to have cleared the lift tube, as well as the corridor on the entrance level. Once they are done with that we are going to follow them up and get out to where the Venture or one of the other ships in the fleet can land shuttles and lift us out of here.” I paused and looked around at my team. Most of them had left their visors clear allowing me to see their faces. There was a lot of fear there. It was however mostly a well controlled fear. Seeing them so outwardly composed sent a surge of pride through me. It seemed that it was not the just marines who had courage in the face of the unexpected. I smiled at them and continued.

“Just take it slow and steady up the ladder. Holster your phasers and don't look down. We'll all be out of this soon enough.” I could see a few more smiles in the group as I finished.

A tap on my shoulder made me turn around to look at Gunny Booth. He addressed both me and Ambassador Worf. “Sirs, you're up after 3-2 in the queue. 4-1 will be following you up, then Colonel Nakhoda and her command squad followed by the rest of the platoon.”

“Thank you, Gunny. We'll be ready.” I responded as Ambassador Worf nodded silently. The Gunny gave us a nod and disappeared up the ladder after Lieutenant Gardner. “Ambassador, if you would follow me up to the entrance?”

“Of course, Commander. Though I wish it were not so, I am no more than a spectator today. I will remain at your side until we return to your ship.”

“Thank you, Ambassador.” I switched channels on my communications implant to address Sandra privately. “Sandra, we are going up after Saber 3-2. You take your team up first and we will follow with the ambassador.”

“Of course Jer. See you at the top.”

We did not have to wait long before 3-2 had gone up the two ladders in the turbo shaft. Sandra took her away team up first and we followed. The climb up the ladder was something that every member of the away team handled easily. Easier in fact than it was for a few of the marines Around us. I could only assume they were not former fleet personnel. Climbing ladders was a fact of life for a surprising number of positions on a star ship, though few of those ladders were as long as this one was.

I hadn't noticed how tense I had been, standing around at the base of the turbolift, waiting for our turn to climb up. The feeling of finally getting to move again was more comforting than I had expected. The bare concrete shaft was only broken by the guides for the lift cars and the doors on every level. Yet despite our bare functional surroundings I was happy to be climbing up towards the surface and our ride home.

At the top were marines waiting to help us out of the shaft and directed Ambassador Worf, myself and Sandra to a room just of the main corridor where Lieutenant Gardner was waiting for us. As we entered the room he looked up from a map he had been studying with Gunnery Sergeant Booth.

“Commander Sorenson, we are going to move out as soon as my platoon is assembled. I am detailing 3rd squad and 4-2, one of my heavy weapons teams, to escort you to a safe position inside of where we are setting up a hard point to repel the Klingon assault.” He pointed to a map of the level projected in the air between us showing the entrance level. “We are going to set up here on the right hand side of the hangar. 1st platoon is in position at the point directly in front of the main entrance already. 2nd is in contact with the assaulting force at the moment and is falling back under fire. They are going to hold the left hand side of the hangar. They are however low on ammunition. Because of that and the circular shape of the hangar they are not going to be able to assist in holding the hangar from assault as that would put 2nd and 3rd platoon in a position of effectively firing on each other. The position they are going to be able to establish will however protect 1st platoons flank from any Klingons who manage to penetrate to the inner corridors.” He paused as the deployment he had just described was acted out by symbols on the map in front of us.

“I take it you want us to help hold our flank from any Klingons who manage to slip past into the corridors on this side of the hangar?” I asked the Lieutenant.

“Yes, sir. You will be a valuable addition to the firepower I am setting up there. It will also have the effect of placing you, your personnel and the Ambassador in the safest position we can secure at the moment. If you should run into real trouble we will only be a few rooms away. Are there any other questions, sirs?”

“No, Lieutenant, I think we have everything we need. If you could direct me to Sargeant Jaenke we will be on our way.” The Lieutenant seemed surprised that I knew of the squad leader for his third squad, not that he let it slow him down as his answer came quickly.

“The Sergeant is down the hall to the right about a hundred meters. Good luck, sirs.”

“Good hunting, Lieutenant.” I responded.



“Are you supposed to be both bored and scared at the same time, sir?”

“Yes you are Monaldi. It's just one of those things you have to deal with in situations like this one. Just keep your head down and watch out for your friends and you will be fine.” I smiled at the young Crewman 2nd class encouragingly. He smiled back just a little steadier than he had been. I clapped him on his shoulder and sent him over to rest of the away team with a nod. Turning away from the rest of the away team I contacted Ensign Rooney.

“Rooney here, Commander”

“Check on Monaldi. He could use a little support and maybe something for him to do.”

“I'm on it, sir.”

“How are the rest of the team handling it?”

“About as well as expected, sir. The noise from the entrance bay is not exactly helping any.”
I Understood what she was saying perfectly. For the past ten minutes we had had nothing to do but listen to the combat going on in the large bay that served as both main entrance and hangar for the prison.

“I know what you mean, Ensign. Just keep them calm and we should be out of here in no more than a half hour.”

“Roger that, sir. Out here.”

The Ensigns unconscious use of the Marines radio methods made me smile a little more and shake my head as I turned to Sergeant Jaenke.

“Any word from the bay, Sergeant?”

“Not really, sir. They seem to be massing just outside for another push. Not that it will help them just yet. We have the entrance covered from three directions and there is no cover for them. Their shields can only stop shots from one direction. We shouldn't have any issues holding on until Javelin can get here and secure the outside so we can get an old fashioned airlift out of here.”

“Any casualties so far?” I asked.

“Nothing serious yet, sir. Mostly minor burns and destroyed weapons, they have good cover in the bay, sir.”

“Well that's a relief Sergeant. How is our position here?”

“It's as good as we can make it sir. I'm a bit worried about a few of the corridors in the area. We have them covered by sensors but they are still weaknesses in our defensive posture, sir.”

“Serious weaknesses, Sergeant?”

“Not really, sir. As I noted, they are covered by a bunch of different sensors so we should get plenty of warning if anyone comes down them. I have a fire team ready to respond to any incursions as well, sir.”

I nodded my comprehension of the situation as I turned to look out over the defenses that had been put in place by the Sergeants squad and the attached heavy weapons team. The central corridor we covered wound it's way around the central bay, it's curvature showing clearly as it disappeared off to the left a few dozen meters away. The Marines had taken a few of the very solid doors of the prison complex straight out of the walls and built barricades to give them cover. They now stood or crouched in positions behind the barricades and watched and waited for the enemy to appear.

I looked back to where mine and Sandras away teams were crouched behind a second set of barriers. In place to give the Marines a little extra help if everything went wrong. Their body language was far less certain than the Marines for obvious reasons. Yet they seemed ready and almost eager for whatever might come despite their obvious uncertainty. Rooney had taken Crewman Monaldi back down the corridor a bit and was talking to him. Crewman Monaldi was nodding his head at whatever Rooney was saying and seemed to be standing a little straighter. Monaldi was an excellent transport technician, which was why I had brought him along. One never knew when a deep technical knowledge of the art of running away was going to come in handy.

I smiled at the thought as I walked over to my away team and my designated place in the defenses. Leaning against a wall from where I could see all of my people I accessed a view of the main bay taken from one of 1st platoons helmet cameras. The view reminded me of what ships looked like just before their warpcore blew them apart. The bay was filled with dense smoke drifting slowly towards the ventilation grates. The walls were liberally pockmarked with holes and burns from the Marines and Klingons weapons. A few long gashes still glowed from where heavy phasers had burned deep trenches. Covering the floor, lying where they had died was dozens of Klingons. For the first time since Tenean IV I had the horrifying opportunity to see in detail what happened when sentient beings failed to resolve their differences peacefully. For the Klingons may have sought honorable death in combat, but I doubt they had wanted this. The bodies were torn and mangled from the grenades. Burnt and disfigured from the rifles. Ripped and mutilated from the heavier weapons.

I watched the scene for several minutes as the private slowly moved his head from side to side, waiting and watching for the next attack. I was just about to turn of the feed when the attack started.

It started with a veritable wave of green disruptor pulses that seemed to fill the entrance. The wave flashed across the bay and slammed into 1st platoons position. The Marines returned the fire as soon as their reflexes allowed. Sending a return wall of blazing blue pulses back towards the opening. My helmet faithfully enhanced the muted sounds that carried to our position, no more than thirty meters from the bay that was now filled with streams and rivers of fire going in both directions.

The smoke that had just started to clear before the attack was back in force. Vaporized metal, concrete dust and burning plastics helped reduce unaided visibility to no more than half the length of the bay. Not that the lack of visibility either helped or hindered either side. With the glowing blasts to backtrack and the tactics reduced to simply shooting as much as possible as fast as possible there was no room for complex strategies or deceptive tactics. There was barely any need or possibility to aim.

I got my first glimpse of the Klingons when 2nd and 3rd platoons opened fire. The glow from the impact of their fire back lit the smoke and dust, giving the scene a surreal quality. They were screaming their war cries and running as fast as they could towards the end of the bay in an attempt to get to grips with the Marines. The shields we had seen in the feed from 2nd platoon earlier were clearly in evidence. Large dark rectangles of some form of metal that shed shot after shot from the Marines phaser rifles. Only the heavy phasers could reliably penetrate them. Though I knew the Marines simply could not carry very many of the exceedingly heavy power packs for their heaviest weapons, and they ran dry after far to short a time. The same problem could be found with their other reliable weapon against the shield bearing Klingons, grenades. I could see the shock-waves and hear the almost musical dings of the fragments from the few grenades the Marines were using, pushing and distorting the concealing smoke. Yet another deadly device that was simply not in large enough supply to stop an attack of this strength.

“Venture 5, Saber 3, this is Sword 6-2 over.” I was startled away from the images of blood and fire by the call from First Sergeant Lindkvist.

“Saber 3 here, go ahead, Sword 6-2.” I heard Sergeant Jaenke respond as I added my own response.

“Venture, Saber, be advised, many unknown hostiles have managed to infiltrate your sector and may be en route to your position. Confirm copy, over.”

“Saber 3 copies unknown number of hostiles in sector. We are currently deployed at and behind position 3 bravo. Over.” Sergeant Jaenke responded.

“Solid copy Saber 3.” First Sergeant Lindkvist answered. “Hold until relieved or position becomes untenable. Report any activity and ensure tactical feed. Confirm copy, over.”

“Stay in touch and ensure uplink. Wilco. Saber 3 out.”

I glanced over the improvised defenses towards where the Klingons would come from. The empty, quiet corridor was a powerful counterpoint to the noise and chaos going on a few bulkheads away in the main bay. The word spread through the Marines and away teams. Rifles were held tighter, phasers had their charges checked for the fifth or sixth time, the low conversations that had been in the background died down as everyone turned to look down the corridor. Every sensor available to us was reaching out to get a first glimpse of the enemy. I walked over to Ambassador Worf who was standing behind the last set of barricades with a couple Marines, watching us prepare our defenses.

“Commander Sorenson, I understand that we may be attacked shortly.” The tone of his greeting left no doubt that he wanted to pick up a phaser and join us in our preparations.

“Yes Ambassador, we have received a warning that a large group of Klingon Warriors have managed to get around our defenses and should be heading this way.”

“I understand Commander. I assume that you will still not let me have a weapon and join the coming battle?” I looked straight into his eyes as I answered.

“Not short of a direct order, no mister Ambassador. We have already lost people, and if you should die then their deaths will have been in vain. Our mission is to get you back to the Federation. Alive and well. Should this position become untenable I must ask that you accompany Privates Phelps and Bideaux back to Lieutenant Colonel Nakhodas position.” Our eyes remained locked as his lust for battle and his sense of responsibility to the Federation warred. It only took a moment though before he straightened his back a little more and nodded sharply.

“I do not like it Commander, but I can not refute your argument. It will be as you say. Perhaps someday my duty will allow me to fight alongside you.” I smiled at the tall Ambassador as I answered.

“Perhaps someday Ambassador. If that day should come I would be honored to have you by my side.” I braced to attention briefly before turning back to my team to await the seemingly inevitable attack.

The seconds stretched out into minutes as the attack we were waiting for never materialized. I walked over to Ensign Rooney who was looking over Crewman 2nd Monaldis shoulder at the tricorder he was studying with an intense focus.

“Are we picking up anything beside the battle in the main bay, Ensign?” Rooney turned to me while Monaldi kept his attention firmly on the tricorder.

“We have picked up what looked like a small burst of disruptor fire that was outside the main bay about three minutes ago. It was a pretty small blip that was mostly hidden in the emissions from the main bay. We have run the readings a couple times now to nail it down but the best we can come up with is that they ran into a hatch they couldn't force open so they shot their way through the wall.” The PO shrugged. “I'd say that the 'lockout' we put in place on their main computer has forced them to use a brute force approach to getting through hatches, sir.” I grunted in amusement at his choice in words and the slight smile she wore, as the lockout he was referring to was a large block of explosives the Marines had placed on the primary processing core. Not to mention the general destruction their phasers had wreaked on every secondary system in the adjacent compartments.

“So you expect them to be late getting here?”

“Yes, sir. This level was fully locked down before we got here, and no closed door is going to open in the entire facility until they have hooked up a replacement computer core.” She responded with a satisfied smile.

“Sirs, I think I might have something here.” Monaldi said just as I was about to head over to Sergeant Jaenke. “What is it Crewman?” Rooney asked as she bent over the tricorder again.

“I'm getting some odd readings. It's almost like disruptors and an active tricorder somewhere close.” I looked at the readings on the tricorder over Monaldis shoulder for myself. It had been a while since I used one but I could see that the readings looked odd. I just couldn't figure it out. I opened a channel to Sergeant Jaenke.

“Sergeant Jaenke, Commander Sorenson here.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“One of my techs are picking up strange readings on his tricorder. The readings look like disruptors and a tricorder, very weak but really close. We are figuring it out as we speak Sergeant.”

“Understood Commander. Thanks for the heads up, I'll have my guys take a look for themselves. Over.”

“Aha!, that's it!” Monaldi exclaimed suddenly. Just as I was going to close the channel to the Sergeant. “It's coming from the level above us.” He turned to me with a smile on his face from solving the problem in front of him. He barely had time to notice how wide my eyes had gone when we were all slammed to the floor by a horrendous blast.

***

I woke up to a view of bare concrete mere centimeters from my face. The only thing that had saved me, or anyone in the corridor was the armor we wore. I rolled over onto my back with a moan. Before me there was a hole in the roof and Klingons were dropping through it with Disruptors and Bat'leths drawn. The training I had received from the Marines took over as I drew my phaser and extended it forward in a two handed grip towards the hole in the roof. As a Klingon dropped through the hole I snapped the aiming dot over his chest and stroked the trigger as fast as I could. Blue bolts of energy crossed the few meters between us. I hit him just as he was landing, the blue light from my phaser mixing with the orange light from his suddenly burning clothes and skin as his right lung and heart were flash boiled. The expanding steam from inside his chest cavity forced him off balance and he fell against the back of another Klingon taking them both to the deck.

As I tracked over to another target it became clear that I had forgotten to pay attention to my surroundings as a Bat'leth slammed into my right forearm with bone crunching force. My armor took most of the punishment allowing me to keep the hand, but not so much that the blow didn't break my right elbow and knock my phaser across the corridor to bounce of the nearest wall.

I screamed in pain as I felt the bones in my elbow shatter and the whole world disappeared from my consciousness. For a time there was nothing in my world but pain, searing, pulsating, shattering pain. I screamed and moaned, clutching my right elbow with my left hand, searching in vain for a way to stop the pain. Just as the pain was letting up, rough hands slapped my arms apart causing a fresh wave of all encompassing torture. Dimly through my agony I felt a slap against my armored chest before I rolled into a fetal position, curling up around my broken arm to protect it from any further abuse. The sudden motionlessness of an active transporter barely managed to break through the haze in my mind.

The pain was still too strong to allow conscious thought when I was picked up by two Klingon warriors and half carried, half dragged off the transporter pad to be thrown to the ground together with other Federation prisoners. As my arms were wrenched behind me and shackles attached to my wrists the pain finally became to much and I passed out to a mercifully painless blackness.

***

The first thought I had when I woke up was pain. Hideous, debilitating pain. I was laying face down on a hard metal cot with my hands still shackled behind my back. For a long time I could do nothing but try to come to grips with the pain in my arm. The tiniest movement caused a gasp of pain as the shattered ends of the bones in my forearm ground against each other. Moment by moment the pain lessened as my body was flooded by endorphins, allowing me to focus on the arm and determine how badly injured I was. Without being able to look I could not be sure how bad it was, though I came to realize that only one of the bones was broken. I did not feel wet from blood so I decided it had not broken the skin. My armor was still on with the notable exception of my helmet, and a quick check with my implants told me that the communication systems had been disabled.

I have never before in my life sat up in bed as slowly as I did then. With all the care one would show an injured baby bird I worked my way to a sitting position, moaning and gritting my teeth against the pain. Tears ran down my face as I finally managed to sit up, my eyes firmly shut against the pain. I breathed deeply as I let the fresh agony in my arm subside before I opened my eyes to take in my cell.

The cell was no more than three by two meters of bare concrete with a low roof and single blank metal door. The only breaks in the concrete was the metal bed I sat on and a small grate on the floor. Obviously creature comforts were of no interest to whom ever designed this place. It was even more spartan than the cell we had dragged Ambassador Worf out of.

I sat there for what seemed to be a long time, waiting for something to happen. I was tired, hungry and still in significant pain. All I could do was sit and wonder what was next for me.

Finally I heard movement outside my cell. Bracing for whatever was to come I stood up and faced the door, gasping as even that slight movement caused my arm shoot waves of pain throughout my body. The door slid open and two large Klingons came into my little cell. As they both grabbed an arm I screamed in agony, twisting my body to try to escape the pain. They must have mistaken my agonized attempt to protect myself for an escape attempt as I was immediately thrown to the ground. Writhing and crying in pain I curled onto my left side so I wouldn't be resting on my right arm.

“My arm is broken!” I yelled at them. Clearly they were unimpressed by this as they simply grabbed me again and hoisted me to my feet. All the while ignoring my screams of agony as the bones in my forearm grated against one another. I had barely left the room when I passed out a second time from the pain.

***

When I next came to my shackles had been replaced by ones that were built into the metal chair I was sitting in. I moaned and tried push through the pain that was becoming all to familiar all to quickly. Breathing deeply and keeping my eyes closed I was able to focus enough that I could try to look around. I opened my eyes to a bare room.
Four walls of concrete. Ceiling made of light-panels. Metal chair bolted to the floor. I assumed there were sensor pickups in the room and a drain underneath my chair.

Sitting across from me was a Klingon General I vaguely recognized. I tried to force my brain to work but I had simply been through to much for my brain to work reliably. I noticed he was studying my right arm and now that I could see for myself I noticed that the hard outer armor had barely been damaged at all from the blow that broke my arm. A thin line of silver was all that could be seen on the outside.

“My men tell me you claim the arm is broken.” I looked up at the General.

“Yes sir, It was broken when you captured me.” I barely managed to whisper through my throat, which was raw and cracked from lack of water and far to much screaming. He stood up and walked over to me. Looking down at me he grasped my right arm and rotated it against the binder holding my arm to the chair. Ignoring my screams he looked at where the Bat'leth had struck. A few monumentally painful moments passed before he released my arm and returned to his chair.

“I see your armor is quite strong, Commander. You are lucky to still have the arm. It must have taken quite some time to develop that suit of armor.” He trailed off and waited for my response. By this time my brain was so flooded in adrenaline and endorphins that I could barely think about my own name, let alone any attempt to resist questioning.”

“It was copied from our historical files.” My voice was slurred and uncertain as I spoke.

“I see, and what else have you found in your historical files?”

“Most of our equipment are just copies of what we used in our last great war.”

“Interesting I'm sure. But now, Commander I fear we must proceed with the interrogation part of this interview.” The change of his tone from casual to cold caused a fresh shot of adrenaline to my heart. “I will begin by asking you why you are here in this system.” I tried in vain to swallow against the dryness of my mouth before answering.

“Who are you?” I hoped that I was not inviting more pain, but I could not shake the feeling of familiarity about the General in front of me.

“I am General Kerla, Commander of all forces in this system. Now why are you here?” Recognition finally broke through the miasma of pain that had enveloped my mind. The General was one of our primary targets for capture as he was somehow related to Emperor. The briefing had noted that he was not a particularly patient man. That little tidbit of remembered information made me decide to answer quickly.

“To rescue Ambassador Worf, General.”

“Not even your decadent Federation would commit an entire fleet of warships to the rescue of one man Commander. Please don't try my patience.” At least he was still being polite, now to hope that he stayed that way.

“We are also here to ensure that the industrial capacity of this system is unavailable to the rest of your Empire for the remainder of the war.” I braced for an expected outburst that never came.

“So our information was correct. I see that my cousin does have some excellent sources.” His expression was thoughtful as he studied me. The confusion on my face must have been expected as he smiled thinly at me. “And Intelligence was right as well if I am any judge.” His smile showed a bit more teeth than I found comfortable.

“Allow me to illuminate your obvious confusion, Commander. We knew you were coming. Not with enough warning to trap your fleet perhaps, but with more than enough to set up the ambush that captured you.” My mind focused on his words and the implications to such an extent that I actually forgot about my shattered elbow. I furrowed my brow as I tried to think of any way they could have found out. My attempts to come to a conclusion was brought to a halt as the General barked a short laugh at me.

“Really, Commander, it's not that hard to figure out. Someone you know sold you out.”

---

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

Yay.

Two days. I had been a captive for two days and nights. My armor had been taken and replaced by an ill fitting red jumpsuit. My implants were jammed so I could not communicate with the other prisoners, and the questioning had gone on for endless hours without pause. The only high point was that my arm was immobilized in a cast. That however was only preventing any new pain. The old pain was more than enough to cloud my mind and prevent restful sleep.

I had seen and heard other prisoners over the last few days. Ensign Rooney was still alive and I hoped she was still in better shape than me. The others had only been voices that I recognized, several members of mine and Sandras away teams, as well as a few Marines. Though it seemed that if help did not arrive soon, there might be no one left to rescue.

The Interrogator stood over me as I groaned and tried to recover my sanity from the pain and rage that filled me, when we heard a sudden explosion not far off.



After my initial interrogation by General Kerla I had been taken back to my cell and stripped of my armor. As expected they had not been particularly gentle when they had done it so I was left on the floor, curled up around my shattered, swollen elbow.

As the pain slowly faded away I managed to dress myself in the red one size fits no one jumpsuit they had left behind in the cell. It was not long after that I heard movement outside my cell. The heavy footsteps and clangs of the metal shackles could be clearly heard through the door as they stopped for a moment just on the other side. With fear and worry plainly showing on my face I stood up and faced the door, anticipating the pain to come. Though instead of Klingon Warriors, Ensign Rooney was thrown into the cell along with a medical case. The Ensign stood up and turned towards the door with a snarl of anger just as it was slammed shut. When I realized that I was not going to be taken away for more interrogation I let out the breath I had been holding and slumped onto the bed.

“I'm glad to see you survived Jayne.” My voice was weak and broken from the ordeal I had been through in the past few hours. As she turned around and looked at me, her expression brightened.

“Commander, you’re okay.” Her voice was a little brittle but she came forward and stood in front of me, she even snapped to attention.

“Leave the courtesies for when we are out of here, Ensign. And if you wouldn't mind getting that medkit and take a look at my arm?” The jumpsuit we both wore was far too large for either of us, and made it understandably hard to notice the swelling as I clutched the broken limb to my chest. A look of concern flashed over her face as she looked at the arm and noticed the swelling that had spread to my hand. Her eyes went wide and she snapped up the case from the floor and opened it on my cot. A medical tricorder came out and was swept over my arm. Her face took on a look of horror at what the device was telling her.

“Sir, your ulna has snapped of just below the elbow and has been grinding against the upper part of the bone. The entire area is filled with bone fragments, several blood vessels have been severed and you have some pretty severe damage to quite a few muscles and ligaments in the area.” She looked up at me and noted the pain flashing across my expression with every breath and movement. “How can you stand it, sir?” I gave her a thin smile as I answered.

“I just compare the pain I am in to the pain I feel whenever I am moved by our hosts. They don't seem to care particularly about any discomfort I might experience.” My smile faded away as the brief humor left me more tired than I had been. Fighting against the pain was the most tiring experience of my life. “Can you do anything about the arm, Ensign?”

She frown as she looked through the medkit. “Sorry, sir, you need surgery to put everything back where it belongs. The only thing I can do is immobilize the arm and give
you something for the pain.” She pulled out a hypospray and pressed it against my arm. The pain rapidly faded away, leaving me a little giddy from the accumulated endorphins in my system. The young Ensign looked up from the medkit when I giggled before removing a shear from the kit and slicing the sleeve of my jumpsuit up to the shoulder. Seeing my elbow was enough to shock me out of my endorphin high. Between the swelling and the obviously deep bruising it was almost hard to recognize it as my own.

“Sir, I need you to hold your arm at a slight angle and perfectly still.” She pulled a small spray out of the kit and as I held up my arm she applied a foam to my arm, covering everything from my hand to my shoulder in a thin orange layer. After a few moments it started to harden and shortly I was completely unable to move my arm.

“Thank you, Jayne.” The gratitude in my voice was hopefully as obvious as it was heartfelt.

“Your welcome, sir.” She smiled as she put everything back in the case.

“So, do you have any idea of where we are?” I asked her as I settled back on the bed and took a few deep breaths. The air was the same as in every other Klingon ship or facility I had been in. Dry but with a distinct organic smell.

“No, sir. When they captured me they put a beacon on my chest and I was transported here. After that I haven't seem anything that could tell me where we are. I'm pretty sure we are not on a ship but other than that.” Her voice trailed off as she shrugged. Her repacking complete she sat down on the cot herself and leaned back against the wall.

“About what I expected. Hopefully the Venture can find out where we are and send a rescue force in time to do some good.” I paused briefly and gathered my thoughts. “Have you seen anyone else here?” I asked, worried of her answer.

“Yes sir, Petty Officer Hampton, Petty Officer Jones and Crewman Monaldi so far from the ship and two Marines I didn't recognize. I think I have heard more voices but I can't be sure who they are.” That was better than I feared but worse than it could be. Thinking back to what the general had said to me during my initial interrogation I turned to the Ensign.

“Hopefully we just haven't seen the rest yet, but we can't worry about it right now. We just have to get out of here. And if only one of us gets out of here I need you to tell Captain Pelatier something.” She responded to the seriousness in my voice and turned towards me. “General Kerla said that they had gotten information on our objectives from someone inside our ship. They also got more information from them. The General said they got it in time to set up the ambush at the prison but not enough to ambush our fleet.”

“But who could have done that, sir?” Her expression had taken on a look of deep worry at the implications.

Just as I was about to respond the door opened and two Klingons entered the small cell. They looked at us with snarls of contempt as we got to our feet. They did not pause for long before simply walking over to the Ensign and pushing her against a wall to once again shackle her wrists.

“Hey! Stop that!” I yelled and grabbed the arm of the nearest one to try and stop them from hurting the Ensign. My attempt to help her was thwarted by the simple matter of the Klingon turning to me and delivering a solid punch to the side of my face.

I was thrown back to the opposite wall, my head ringing and blood trickling from my mouth. I shook my head to clear it from the ringing sound as I was lifted to my feet by one of the guards.

The guard that had punched me looked at me in disgust before he let me go to stagger back against the wall as he collected the medkit. I stood still and watched them both until I was struck in the stomach by what felt like a sledgehammer. The air was driven from me and I collapsed once again onto the cold hard floor.

I was dimly aware, through my painful attempts to breathe, of the guards leaving the cell dragging an angry, snarling Ensign Rooney out the door. I managed to regain my breath after a moment and just stretched out on the floor, there being little difference in softness between it and my nominal 'bed'. As the events of the long day passed through my mind the tension began to lessen and before I knew it, I was asleep.



I was awoken by the door to my room opening and the now customary two guards came in, picked me up and carried me out. As the pain medication Ensign Rooney had given me was wearing off it hurt quite a lot to be lifted up by the arms. However the cast I know had ensured that the arm could not move much at all, so the pain only really served to wake me up.

I was dragged into the same interrogation room I had been in earlier, and strapped to the same chair as before. What had changed was that the chair was already warm and there was an odd smell in the air. It took me a while to recognize the sharp tang of iron as blood. Looking down I noticed the floor was wet as if it had just been cleaned. The guards shackled my arms to the chair and left, leaving me alone in the room. I used the time to look around the room. It was still bare concrete, dimly lit and nearly empty. Two chairs, two doors opposite each other and a drain in the floor was all there was in the room. No visible cameras, no air vents, even the lighting was from simple light-panels that covered the ceiling.

My wait for the interrogator was shorter than I had expected when General Kerla entered the room trailed by a Klingon who for once was not dressed in armor but in the uniform I had previously associated with officials within the Klingon Empire. The female Klingon walked with a slight limp and carried an ornate cane.

“Good morning Commander.” General Kerla greeted me. “I would like to introduce Agent Gira. She is the head interrogator for this facility. She will be taking over your interrogation from today and will be the one that makes sure we get all the information you have to give.” The smile he wore as he said the last part was not one to ensure I would sleep peacefully any time soon. He turned to the Agent to say something in Klingon that I missed before nodding at me with a cold smile and leaving the room.

Agent Gira looked at me for while in silence. The seconds ticked away as neither of us spoke. She simply stood there behind the chair in front of me, her hands resting on it's back. She seemed content to simply observe me as the seconds turned to minutes.

“Who are you?” I was actually startled when she finally spoke. Her voice was lighter than I was expecting, almost human.

“Who are you?” She asked again. Her tone was as calm and patient as the first time she asked the question.

“Commander Jeremiah Sorenson.” I responded, unsure if that was what she really wanted. It obviously was not as she walked over and struck my wounded elbow sharply with the cane she carried. The resulting pain shot through my arm and forced a gasp of pain from me.

“Who are you?” Her voice had the exact same patient tone as before.

“I am Commander Jeremiah Sorenson. Executive Officer of the USS Venture. Serial number SC 576 473.” She started pacing around my chair, her cane making a gentle tapping sound as she used it to support her injured leg.

“Why are you here?” The same tone again.

“I am here to rescue Ambassador Worf and to destroy your industry.” My answer was almost a snarl. The pain was starting to annoy me as was the tapping from her cane. This time she did not strike my arm but simply placed the tip of the cane against my back. The surge of electrical energy that slammed into my body caused every muscle to contract as I screamed in pain. That the cane concealed a painstik was rude and painful shock to me.

“Why are you here?”

“I just told you. To save the Ambassador and destroy your industry. That's all our mission.” I was not allowed to complete the sentence as she placed the cane against my left arm and the power surged through me again.

“Why are you here?” I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what she wanted from me. I took too long in answering this time as the cane was placed against my stomach. After the surge stopped a wave of nausea came over me. Swallowing back the vomit I tried to answer.

“Why are you here?” Her voice never changed, nor did the inflection of her tone.

“To win the war.” I was getting desperate to find an answer that would not result in more agony. It was not enough this time either.



Laying in my cell, several hours later I could do nothing but breathe and try to let the pain and fatigue fade away. My interrogation had gone on for hours without end. The only breaks I had received was when my interrogator had eaten her meals. Except for those times the day had been filled with her patient, calm questions. The tapping of her cane against the floor and the agony of several thousand volts of electricity coursing through my body.

At the end of the day I had been hosed down to remove the vomit and blood from my jumpsuit, then dragged back to my cell. A single federation emergency ration was on the floor along with a bottle of warm water. Dripping and freezing I had eaten the food and drunk the water. Never in my life had I thought I would so love the familiar taste of an emergency ration after the time I had spent in an escape pod during the Dominion War. After my meal was finished I laid down on the cot and pulled the thin blanket over me to try to sleep. I knew what I had to look forward to in the morning.



I was again awoken by my cell door opening and two guards coming in and lifting me out of bed and down the hallway to the interrogation room. As I was dragged into the room I saw Crewman Monaldi was shackled to one of the chairs. I was locked down to the opposite chair by the guards before they left the room. Leaving only myself, Monaldi and the interrogator in the room. Monaldi was in pretty bad shape from what I could see. His nose was broken, his left eye had swollen shut and when he gave me a weak smile I could see the gaps of missing teeth. I glared at the interrogator in fury at what she had done to one of my men. She returned my glare with her customary calm expression as she asked the young Crewman.

“Who is this?” Monaldi licked his dry lips and swallowed against his obvious pain before answering.

“Commander Sorenson. He is the XO of my ship and commander of my away team.” The interrogator looked at me calmly and asked in that light calm voice of hers.

“Commander Sorenson, who is this?” I looked up at her and answered.

“Crewman 2nd Samuel Monaldi. He is one of the technicians in my away team.” I closed my mouth and glared at her, waiting to see what new brutality she would chose to perform today. Her answer surpassed my worst fears.

She drew the dagger she carried on her belt and plunged it into his neck. Samuel never got a chance to scream as his throat was severed, as was his jugular. His mouth opened as he tried to scream anyway, but all that came out was a flood of blood to match what was streaming out of his neck and down his red jumpsuit. I screamed in incoherent rage as I watched the life fade from his eyes. The stench of his blood pounded at my senses as I continued to scream at the interrogator, who simply wiped the blood from her dagger and returned it to its sheath. Her expression never changed from her habitual calm.

I continued to curse her in at the top of my lungs as she calmly walked around towards me. The tapping of her cane on the floor barely audible through the constant stream of invective I was throwing at her. I was looking straight into her eyes, my face a mask of rage as she placed the tip of her cane against my sternum and turned on the power. There was no change in the volume of my screams, only the content as the pain slammed through my body and forced what little coherency I had left away. She kept the power on for what seemed like an eternity. My universe was filled with nothing but red pain and white rage.

When she finally removed the cane from my chest I collapsed forward against my restraints, gasping for breath. As I tried to regain some semblance of control she started pacing around me, her cane making an infernal tapping sound on the bare concrete floor. When she stopped in front of me I looked up at her.

“I'm going to kill you, bitch.” She didn't respond in the slightest to my threat, she simply looked down at me with perfect calm and waited for something.

I never did find out what she was going to say, or do, as we both felt a rumble transmitted through the floor. As my mind registered the vibrations and came to a conclusion as to what could have caused it a smile was born on my face. I saw the realization of what was about to happen break through her calm. The bitch actually looked worried for a moment, she obviously did not want to wait around to deal with the Marines, as she simply turned on her heal and walked out the door. Or tried to at least.

As she was reaching out her hand to activate the door controls a section of the wall next to her disintegrated in a flash of light and sound fit to wake the dead. I was struck all over my body by concrete fragments, which combined with the sharp bang and bright light from the explosion left me battered, deaf and half blind.

The Interrogator got much more as she was spun away from me and the door to bounce off the far wall and collapse to the floor. As I tried to blink away the effects of the Marines breaching charge my eyes registered the night black shapes of the Marine fire-team rushing into the room. With an immense amount of satisfaction I saw the Klingon interrogator try to resist the Marines instead of surrendering immediately.

She jumped off the floor with her cane extended towards the nearest Marine. Against most other enemies it would have been a beautiful move that would have given her at least a small chance of survival. In this case it only ensured her death. The Marine she had lunged at was already heading towards her with his weapon leveled when she got her feet under her. Feet that were not as stable as normal. Being blown to the floor tends to be disorienting. When she extended her cane she went from prisoner to threat for the Marine, and he simply shot her until she was a smoking corpse on the floor.

Once the Marines determined the room was clear, my shackles were removed and strong hands helped me get out of the chair. I took a step towards Monaldi, but my legs almost buckled underneath me. The Marine that had released me managed to catch me and keep me steady. With his help I hobbled over to where Monaldi had been placed on the floor by the Marines who had let him go. One of them was passing a medical tricorder over him as I approached.

“Is he dead?” My voice was hoarse and weak from the treatment I had just endured. The Marine with the blue Fleet markings looked up at me and simply nodded before she put her tricorder away and gently reached down to close Crewman 2nd class Samuel Monaldis eyes forever.

“We have to go, sir. We can't beam you out from this level.” The Marine who was helping me stand up spoke gently to me. “We'll make sure he gets out of here, sir.” He added gently.

I nodded in response, but just as he was going to lead me out of the room I caught sight of the interrogators corps on the floor, lying face down in a pool of her own blood. The Marines had taken no chances as they had secured her arms behind her. Her cane and dagger were over in a corner where they had been tossed. I shrugged off the Marine holding my left arm and walked over to the bloody corpse.

“Back off!” I snarled when he tried to take my arm again to lead me out, causing the Marine to take several steps back in surprise. With difficulty I managed to get her over on her back so I could look into her face one last time.

“Give me that cane.” The Marine next to me didn't hesitate as he heard the hate in my voice. He simply retrieved the cane and handed it too me. A moments study showed me the controls for the built in painstik. I turned it on to its highest setting and slammed it into her face with all the force I my anger could give and held it there as the interrogators corpse shuddered and twitched from the power pouring into it. As smoke started to rise and my hatred was momentarily sated I relented and threw the hated cane away from me. With one last look at the corpse at my feet I spat in her face contemptuously and turned towards the hole in the wall.

Marines in my way backed away quickly as I walked out into the corridor without looking back.



As the transporter paralysis let up I was yet again on board the venture. Sick berth attendants quickly stepped up to the stretcher I was laying in and started scanning me. As the smells and sounds of the ship came flowing over me once more all the pent up stresses and emotions from the last few days were released and I shuddered as tears streamed down my face. For long moments I just laid there and let my body and mind rest. I was just going to lay still and let Lieutenant Commander Browns people do their job.

A hypospray was pressed against my neck and all the pain in my body melted away, letting me fully relax. I felt them cut away the cast on my arm and the hated red jumpsuit before covering me with a blanket and begin repairing all the damage that had been done to me. The drugs they had injected me with kept me calm and free of pain, maybe a little giddy.

“Commander? Are you awake?” I recognized the voice as Lieutenant Commander Browns. I opened my eyes and looked up into his worried face.

“I'm awake, Doctor. How does it look?” My voice was stronger than it had been down in the prison.

“Not great, Commander. I understand from Ensign Rooney that you already know about the damage to your right arm?” I nodded at the question so the Doctor continued. “Well we are going to have to put everything back in order as well as fix quite a bit of muscle damage. The scans look like you managed to grab a high voltage wire a couple of times.” He looked a bit unsure of his diagnosis of the damages.

“That would be about right Doc. The interrogator had a painstik that she applied to me quite a bit over the last few days.” The Doctors eyes went wide as realization that we had been tortured fully entered his mind. His face slowly hardened before he turned away to give orders to his underlings on how to treat my many injuries.

Over the next hour I was treated to a whole battery of procedures and injections that culminated with the Doctor returning to my side. His expression had hardened still more as the other surviving prisoners told their stories. He looked down at me and forced his voice to be calm and collected. No simple feat with the anger burning in his eyes.

“Commander, we are ready to put you under and repair the damage to your elbow. You are still going to need a cast after the procedure for a week or two, but I expect you to make a full recovery. I have studied the scans and the damage is simple enough to fix. A lot of detailed work but simple none the less.

“Thank you, Martin. Is there going to be any permanent damage?” I had been given so much pain medication, my question was almost whimsical in tone. The smile I wore felt more than a little loop sided as well.

“No, Jer. Your going to be fine once we take the cast of and you get the chance to rebuild your muscles. You will be sore and weak for a month or so but that's it.” He gave the answer with a genuine smile as he saw that I was not in any discomfort. He patted me gently on my shoulder as he nodded to one of his assistants. The Lieutenant reached down to my arm with a hypospray and my world faded to black.



Waking up from the anesthetic was far more peaceful than the last few times I had been unconscious. I was allowed to wake up slowly to the world around me, without a single pain anywhere in my body. For a brief moment I was worried that I was still back on the planet, and that my rescue had been nothing but a dream. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping it had not been a dream. The small room I was in was painted a calming gray and had the familiar smell of a Federation sickbay. I quickly recognized it as being a private recovery room attached to the main surgical suite on the Venture. I looked around the small room, noting in passing that I was alone and that my arm had a new cast on it. They also seemed to have taken the time to clean me up a bit as I'm sure I had needed it.

The sensation of waking up in a place that I knew was secure and that no one was going to come into the room and cause me pain let me relax from the moment of anxiety I had felt when I woke up. I relaxed still further as the door chime sounded, no Klingon was going to go through the trouble of being polite enough to ask before entering.

The door opened and Doctor Brown entered wearing his medical smock and followed by a medical assistant who was carrying a small satchel over his shoulder.

“Good morning, Commander. How are you feeling?” I smiled up at the Doctor.

“Pretty good, Doctor. Can't feel any pain at least.” In fact I could feel my energy recovering and I was eager to get out of bed. And I said as much to the Doctor.

“Just stay there for a bit so we can run some scans and make sure everything is right first.” His smile at my obvious good spirits was as evident in his voice as on his face. The Lieutenant who had come in with the Doctor put the satchel he had been carrying on the sole chair in the room before pulling out a medical tricorder. I was scanned from head to toe with quite a bit of focus placed on my right arm. Once the scan was complete the Doctor was handed the tricorder for study.

“Everything looks just fine, Commander. However there are a few things we need to cover first.” He looked up at the Lieutenant and motioned for him to leave the room. Once we were alone he sat down on the chair after placing the satchel on the deck.

“I'll start with the physical stuff. Your elbow is going to be fine. You should have no lasting troubles with it though it will be a source of annoyance and pain for the next week or so as the regenerator does its work. You had a lot of micro tears in your muscles from the painstik. That is going to heal naturally but you are going to be very sore for the next few days.” The Doctor paused as I absorbed the information. He looked at me with a curious expression as he tried to think of a way to broach the next subject.

“I assume you have something to say about the psychological effects as well, Doctor?” I prompted him gently.

“Yes I was, Commander. To put it bluntly you have been tortured, and that kind of mental trauma needs support to let you work it all out.” He paused again. Even a Doctor as experienced and well trained as him had seldom encountered the problems I was going to face. “I would normally recommend you spoke to the ships Counselor. However, since the two of you do not seem to be getting along any more I would recommend instead that you wait until we are back at Earth and see someone there. I am recommending that you be given no less than a months leave once we get back and until we do you are restricted to light duty. Commander”

He did not quite rush through the last bit, but it was also delivered with a Medical Doctors implacable tone. It was clear that any argument I could advance would not in any way dissuade him from what were effectively orders. Not that I wasn’t going to at least try despite recognizing that I knew I could use the rest.

“Doctor, I'm still the Executive Officer of this ship and I have certain responsibilities I simply cannot abandon.”

“I agree, Commander. That is why you are still on light duty. If I had it my way you would not be allowed to leave the sickbay until we could have you transferred to a facility on Earth. As it stands I have simply skipped the negotiations and given you something to apply your time too until we can get you back. You have been given a very mild neuro-stabilizer that should help you cope for the time being. I will also note that you are not the only one who had a bad time down on the planet. All of the survivors we rescued as well as one Marine who was in the rescue team are relieved of duty until we can return them to earth. I was fully prepared to relieve you as well, but since you seem remarkably stable, and we have already left the system, I'm going to give you something to do.” He paused and looked at me sternly.

“So no more arguments, Commander. I'm already letting you risk far more than I am really comfortable with. Now you have a uniform in the satchel here.” He nudged the bag in question with his foot. “Get dressed and report to the Captain. He wants to brief you on the situation personally.”

I thanked the Doctor, and once I was alone again I pulled my uniform out of the bag and got dressed. The feel of the fresh clean uniform helped settle the last of the anxiety and unease I had been feeling. Before stepping out of the room I checked my reflection in the recovery rooms bathroom. I was bruised and had obviously not gotten enough sleep recently. Other than that and the need for either a shave or a decision to grow a beard I decided I was respectable enough. I took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor.



“Enter” The call came through the door of the Captains day cabin. It had taken almost twice as long as usual to get here from sickbay. It seemed as if every time I came around a corner there was another member of the crew who wanted to welcome me back to the ship. The well wishers had brought my spirits up, so as the door slid open I walked into the cabin with a smile on my face. The Captain was sitting behind his desk with Lieutenant Senior Grade Swanson seated in a chair in front of the desk.

“You wished to see me, Captain.” Captain Pelatier stood up behind his desk with a broad smile. He examined the thin cast that came out of my right sleeve and partially enveloped my right hand as I walked up to his desk.

“It's good to see you in one piece, Commander. We were worried there for a while that we would not be able to find you in time.” Marie had stood up and gave me a smile as well. The Captain waved us both into seats as he stepped around the desk to the wall mounted replicator and brought back a cup of coffee that he placed in front of me to match what he and Marie already had.

“I'm happy you managed to find me in time as well, sir. I assume you want me to brief you on what happened down there?”

“Not right away, Jer. Ensign Rooney and Sergeant Jaenke have both been able to give us a fairly complete picture of what happened. You are going to have to submit your own report of course, but we are more interested about what you told Ensign Rooney about the Klingons source of information.” I nodded in understanding as I thought back to the first interrogation session with the General.

“Of course, Captain.” I took a moment to sip my coffee and order my thoughts. I then told as much of the story I could recall, making every effort to leave nothing out no matter how small a detail. I told of the Generals tone of voice. How he had been so certain of his sources. I told of the room I had been in and what I had heard on the way to the room. It was not much and soon I had gotten to the end.

“He was absolutely certain their source of information was not just on this ship but that I knew them personally. I'm sure he expected me to die there and that telling me that would help break me quicker.” My voice had darkened at the memory of the General and the pain I had suffered at his hand. The Captain and Lieutenant Swanson exchanged glances that told me they worried about me. The Captain let me collect myself for a moment before responding.

“Well, Jer. No matter what he expected you made it out of there. Now we have to find a way to confirm or deny these allegations. Lieutenant Swanson has been looking into the matter for the last few hours. Lieutenant?” The Captain and I turned to the Lieutenant as she pulled up a some notes on the PADD she had placed on the Captains desk.

“Well, sir. I have been looking into all subspace communications from the ship since we left Earth and there is nothing out of the ordinary. All communications were addressed to Starfleet stations in Sol. There is no record anywhere of any communications to any other system. So either the General was lying or whomever sent the information was sending it through a conduit in Sol.”

“Now, while there is currently no actual proof. I have spoken to First Sergeant Lindkvist, and she agrees with me that the information required to plan and execute the ambush and abduction had to have come from on board the ship. The reasoning being that while we did some preliminary planing before leaving Earth, all plans were changed in mid flight as new information was sent from Starfleet Intelligence. Most importantly the timing of our plan was changed in a way that would have made it near impossible to pull off the ambush without our detailed plans as of a few hours before we entered the system.”

“I have started a very quiet investigation, but we are not expecting to have anything conclusive without help from the intelligence services back on Earth.” She concluded her briefing with a shrug.

“So that's where we are at, Commander. We strongly suspect we have a traitor on board but we can't prove it. At the moment there are less than ten people on the ship that have any idea of our suspicions and I am going to keep the number as low as I can.” I nodded at the obvious logic in the Captains decision, noting as well his apparent frustration at being unable to settle such a divisive problem quickly.

I thought of suggesting we simply open and examined every message sent in the indicated time frame, but refrained as the privacy blocks would not allow that without a formal court martial, which would require charging someone with the crime.

“Makes sense to me, sir. But what do we do now?” I asked.

“We are going to keep working at this until we can get back to Earth and turn the investigation over to competent authorities. You, Jer, are going to take the rest of the day off. Go get some rest. Both Doctor Brown and Counselor Grigorii are in agreement that you are to have light duty only until we get back. That means regular hours and no stress. Sandra is covering your workload for now, and she is doing well.” The Captain paused for a moment as he seemed to read my mind. “So well in fact that having you looking over her shoulder would hinder more than help.”

I opened my mouth to protest but the Captain raised his hand to stop me.

“I know, Jer. Your going to be going stir crazy within a few days without anything to do. That's why we are going to faze you back in over a week starting day after tomorrow. We should have you fully back in your job by the time we get back to Sol.” I smiled at that, the Captain obviously knew how I would react.

“Well, Captain, if that is it for now I'm going to do as you say and go take the rest of the day off and enjoy the stars for a bit.” I stood to attention, nodded to the Captain and Lieutenant, and left the room.

---

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

Counselor Grigorii's going dowwwwwwn!

Nah, he's way too obvious a choice. And while he's definitely out of touch (not uncommon amongst the TNG-era Federation), I think deliberately setting the Marines up for ambush and the tender mercies of Klingon captors would go against his idealized view of what a Federation/Starfleet citizen would do. Although I'm certain it would fall square into what he would expect the Marines to be capable of.

Then again, it may just be me savoring the idea of the tension aboard ship when rumors of a traitor start circulating... and you just know that no matter tightly they try to keep it secret, word is going to get out and spread like wildfire.

Yeah, I really doubt it's going to be the counselor. It would just seem too cheap and cliche a shot for MrCIA to go there. It's something you'd expect out of a cheap propaganda piece.

---

"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

Silence! let the man do his work!



Yeah well the Counselor's a prick and I want him to suffer confused ideology because I want to see him get what's coming, I'd savor that more than some sort of tension that ends with "Ensign Ricky who transferred here last week did it" "IT WAS THE GIRLFRIEND! OH THE BETRAYAL" or some kind of wierd inanimate object explanation like in Zahn's first Thrawn trilogy

Chapter 16

“You know, Shari, I don't think I could ever be a Marine.” She looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow that warned me to choose my next words carefully. “You guys spend so much time on the ground and in training that you tend to miss out on this.” I waved at the view out of my cabin portholes. The stars were flashing by as we sped towards Earth at many times the speed of light.

She looked at the view before looking back at me and smiling gently. “That's one of the things I like about you, Jer. You are a romantic at heart.” She said in her soothing voice. My embarrassed shrug made her smile grow a bit. “But that's okay, Jer. We all need to stop and gaze at the stars from time to time.” I covered my smile with a sip of coffee as we both settled down to watch the stars pass.

The last few days had been surprisingly restful for me. Nightmares and depression had been mostly conspicuous with their absence despite mine and Doctor Brown's expectations. Just about the only person I had trusted to speak about my experiences had been Shari. She had listened to my story and shared some of her own experiences. Telling the story had probably helped more than all the neuro stimulants the Doctor had ordered for the first day. After I had finished and Shari had managed to pull out as much detail as she could, she had told me not to worry to much about it. She told me of some examples of people who had gone through far worse experiences than I had and managed to stay true to themselves. Afterward she had simply smiled and told me that she didn't expect me to change too much, and the new beard was change enough for her.

That is not to say that I had not had my bad moments. Thankfully I had always been in my cabin when they happened. After the first time I had been so overcome with emotions triggered by memories from my captivity I had stopped muttering to myself about being on light duty. So I sat in a chair and looked out a porthole with Shari on the couch next to me as we relaxed before we had to go on duty. We sat quietly for some time, each deep in thought before I broke the silence.

“I've been thinking about something.” I looked away from the stars to Shari. “I think we should set up some cross training for some of my personnel.” She looked over at me and thought for a moment.

“What kind of training, Jer? We already have quite a few Fleet personnel coming to our open sessions.”

“Which is great, but when we got attacked in that corridor I was given a clear demonstration of how ineffective we can be compared to the Marines when we get close enough to see the bad guys with our own eyes. I want my people to survive, Shari. I have lost far too many already and I will not lose anyone else if I have anything to say about it.” She nodded in basic agreement as her eyes focused in the distance while she thought.

“I'm sure that we can arrange some training along the lines you want, Jer. But we need your people to do what they already do. It's supposed to be up to my people to protect your people.” She frowned in thought. “Without the skills the away teams bring to the ground we would take a lot more casualties. Not just your medical personnel, but your other tech provide a valuable set of skills to any mission. How much can we change them into Marines without them loosing their edge in the technical skills?”

I had to agree with that. The only reason I was not still in the hands of the Klingons was that a member of Sandras away team had managed to get a fix on the transporter signal they had used to beam us out. Without that fix it would have been impossible for the fleet to find us before they would have been forced out of the system by Klingon reinforcements.

“That is certainly a point. It just frustrates me to know that we are taking casualties that we could prevent with just a little more training.” I sat back and thought about the problem of how we could have people qualified for both working on the ship and away missions. “I'm going to have to think about this a bit more, but for the time being I'm going to have a talk with the Captain to see how much training time he is willing to trade away.”

“But not right now I assume?” She asked with a small smile.

“No. I think it can wait till tomorrow. Besides, we have that demonstration that Corporal Smith and his cabal has cooked up to go to in a few minutes.” At my mention of the Corporal, Shari sighed. “What's the matter? I thought you were looking forward to see what the Corporal is going to show us.” She set down her coffee cup on the table in front of her before turning toward me.

“You know why I have some apprehensions, Jer. I know you have read the reports on the transported flashbang. It's those kinds of experiments that make me worried whenever he says 'check this out'.” I chuckled at the reminder of the ill-fated experiment performed by Corporal Augustus Smith that had caused all Marine hardware development to be banned from the R&D labs attached to the Academy.

“I'm sure it's not going to be as bad as that particular experiment.” I responded with a grin. “Besides, Matt has been working with him on this one and he wouldn't do anything that would threaten the ship.” She looked at me for a moment before shaking her head.

“You're right, Jer. I just don't want to have to explain to Captain Pelatier why one of my people put a hole in his ship.” I frowned at the though of the Captains reaction to that eventuality.

“We will just have to see what it is, in” I checked the antique clock on my desk. “about fifteen minutes.” I got up and collected our cups to put them in the replicator. Once that minimal amount of housekeeping was done we left my cabin for the walk down to holodeck 4.

Stepping into the turbo lift we found the First Sergeant already there. She braced to attention as we stepped in and then resumed her previous position of at ease. Shari and I acknowledged her as we all stood back and waited for the lift to arrive.

“How is the arm, sir?” The First Sergeant asked in that surprisingly deep but smooth voice of hers.

“Not bad, Top. Doctor Brown says I can get back into practice with my phaser on Monday.” I bent my arm to show that the joint was well on it's way to healing completely.

“It will be good to see you back on the range, sir.” I thanked her with a smile and a nod just as we came to our stop.

I led our group down the corridor to the wide double doors of holodeck 4. The doors opened as we came close and we stepped into the Marines main training deck. Lieutenant Commander Sands, Corporal Smith and two Privates I vaguely recognized were waiting for us. The two Privates stood out quite a bit as they were in armor. They also stood out as one of them was a very large man, and the other a quite small female. I briefly wondered whether they had been chosen specifically as contrasts.

The room has been set up as a standard range with tables on one end, and targets with a backstop at the other. One of the targets was one of the shields the Klingons had used against us. Another was the chest piece of Marine combat armor, complete with arms and a helmet with the visor closed.

On the table was something that sort of resembled a phaser rifle, but was clearly not any weapon in our normal inventory, despite having a regular marine grenade launcher mounted on it. There were also a number of black boxes of similar shape to a deck of cards. At the other end of the table was a regular Marine issue phaser rifle.

Shari stepped forward as the Marines in the room braced to attention. She stopped at the table and looked over the rifle on the table before turning to the rest of the group.

“At ease.” The Marines relaxed into the position of at ease as naturally as the First Sergeant had a few minutes ago in the turbo lift. “I understand you have something to show us, Corporal?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Why don't you give the Commander some quick background before you show us what you have created here.” Shari was in full professional mode. A far cry from the relaxed woman who had been curled up on my couch not long before.

“Of course, ma'am.” The Corporal turned to me as I walked over to the table to inspect the device more closely. “Sir, what you have in front of you is the current, and we believe final pre-production iteration of Project Grendelsbane. Back during World War Three humanity had yet to be able to produce effective energy weapons for ground personnel. So they used kinetic weapons. Explosive powered weapons to be precise. You have seen a few examples on the walls of Marine Lounge on deck 17 I believe?” I nodded as I thought back to the myriad of weapons I had been shown on my first visit to their lounge.

“Those were mostly from before World War Three, this weapons is from the very end of the war.” He gestured at the black rifle on the table. “They finally managed to produce energy storage devices that allowed them to create this.” At that he picked up the rifle from the table, being careful to keep it pointed towards the targets at the far end of the room.

“This, Commander, is a rail gun. It takes a small dart from the magazine.” He pointed at one of the black boxes on the table. A small silver dart, half the length of the 'magazine', was visible, nestled in the top of the box. “And accelerates it out the barrel here.” He pointed to two bars of metal that jutted forward above the grenade launcher. “The power for this is taken from the rear half of the magazine. The power in the magazine also does a few other things.”

My eyes started to glaze over as he started to explain about insulating fields and inertial compensators. High density metals and super conducting rails. I looked over at Matt as he smiled in recognition of the effects any in depth technical discussion had on me. I held up a hand as the Corporal started to explain the precise method they had discovered to prevent arching in the barrel.

“Just show me what it does, Corporal.” He paused in his explanation and looked up at me from the rifle he was holding.

“Of course, sir.” He said quickly and waved to the two armored Marines who had been standing by. “If you would all join me behind the line here.” He stepped over a line marked on the floor behind the table. When everyone in the room except the two armored Marines, both of whom had put on their helmets, Corporal Smith spoke briefly to the computer controlling the holodeck and a force field came to life between us and the firing lane.

“Private Holmberg and Private Weiss are going to start by demonstrating the effect of phaser fire on the two targets. After that they are going to show the effect of the Mk 5 on the targets.” He smiled at us again, obviously very happy to show off his work, before turning and signaling to the two Privates. The large Private picked up the phaser rifle, flicked off the safety and rapidly fired four rounds. Two of the bright blue bolts struck low on the Klingon shield. While the other two hit the piece of armor just to the left of the center line.

Then the small Marine picked up the new rifle and inserted one of the magazines into a slot at the rear of the weapon before pulling back on a lever on the side of the weapon. She carefully aimed down range and pulled the trigger.

“Damn!” I exclaimed as four very loud and rapid cracks sounded in the room. I saw both the shield and the armor twitch twice, but other than that I saw nothing of the darts that had been fired. I watched as the two Privates cleared the weapons and placed them on the table before they reached up and removed their helmets.

“Computer, lower force field.” Corporal Smith said to the computer. As the force field was lowered we all walked over to the targets to get a good look. The shield had two scorch marks just below the center. Looking closer I could see that the metal had been been slightly deformed and that followup hits to the area would have eventually penetrated it.

The story above the center line was completely different. Two tiny little holes were barely visible on the front of the shield. On the back there were two slightly larger holes. I bent down and could see light shining through the shield.

“Well that's pretty impressive, Corporal. I noticed the exit holes are larger, why?” The Corporal pulled out a small dart from his pocket and held it up.

“This is what they are shooting, sir. When it hits a target it starts transferring it's energy into the whatever is resisting it, and a shockwave it produced.” I blinked a few times as he kept going with another deep technical explanation. This time Matt stepped in and saved me. He held up a hand to the Corporal who fell silent before addressing me.

“The dart dumps so much energy into the target it tends to rip it up. Then the dart exits and takes some of its target with it, think shrapnel. It's why we stood behind the force field.” I stroked the beard I had started to grow these last few days as I nodded in understanding and walked over to the armor hanging beside the shield.

Here the damage was if anything worse. Parts of the chest plate had obviously fractured and when I tapped the armor I could see some ceramic dust fall out of the entrance hole. Looking on the inside however I noticed that it seemed to have failed to penetrate the armor fully. I looked over at Shari.

“I thought this armor was originally designed to stop weapons like that.”

She nodded and pointed at the burns from the phaser rifle. They had done nothing but removed some paint from the surface and warmed up the general area.

“It was, but we changed it to do this. Most of the armor is now designed to stop energy weapons and fragments. It does a superlative job in those areas, but we had to make some compromises along the way. Materials that are good against phasers and disruptors tend to not be very good against bullets.” She tapped the helmet to open the visor and give us a view of the padding on the inside.

“Only the helmet and chest have enough armor to stop a round like this. The rest of the armor is good at deflecting them, but a good straight on hit will go straight through them. We aren't expecting to run into threats like this, so we are not going to change our armor.” She turned to me and smiled. “Any questions?”

I smiled as I looked back and forth between the two targets for a moment before turning back to her. “Just one. Can I have one?”

***

“Nice beard, Commander. Let it grow a few more years and it can compete with mine.” The light tone and the rough accent greeted me as Sandra and I stepped up to the bar in Ten Forward. The bartender stood stroking his, admittedly magnificent, beard with a leery smile.

“Thank you, Jason. I chose to grow it out in honor of your Scots ancestors.” He gave a loud bark of a laugh at that, then settled down with a grin.

“So what can I get you, Commanders?” He said with a large smile that showed perfect, white teeth.

“I'll have an Anteran Brandy.” I answered with a smile of my own as Sandra ordered her drink as well, a German beer. “Where did you discover that Sandra?” I asked as I pointed at the drink given to her by the bartender.

“I tried it the night before I broke my leg on my last real leave. A small chalet in the Swiss alps.” We found a table by the portholes and sat down. Each taking a sip of our preferred beverage. “A guy I had met on the slopes earlier in the day introduced me to it. And I made sure the Venture had it in the database when I got on board.”

I leaned back in my chair and looked over at her. “Was he the man mentioned in the report who called in your accident?”

“Yes, that was him. Mark is a pretty nice guy. I might take my leave there next time I get some.” She seemed understandably tired as we had not had any real time off since just before the war started.

“The Captain says that we are going to have a few weeks on Earth before we have to ship out again. I know I'm going to take a week or so off myself. I'm sure you can as well. We are mostly going to be in yard hands while we are there anyway, so not much for us to do.”

“And after we get sent back out again?” I looked around the room but it was still early and there was no one around to overhear us talking.

“Another step in winning the war. Another system or facility to attack. I don't know yet. I'm sure Starfleet HQ has something planned for us. I know they are trying to train more Marines, but according to Shari they are having trouble cutting down the training time to anything less than six months. Which means that for the next few months it's only us and the Challenger that have Marine compliments. I'm guessing that's going to keep us busy at the front of the ground portion of this war.”

I shrugged at my lack of knowledge of the future. I just hoped we could avoid any more disasters like the recent one. Of course, to avoid that we would have to figure out who had sold us out.

“Sounds reasonable. Oh, and speaking of Marines. I just got the revised training syllabus from Major Arisu. It seems like you and I are going to attend an abbreviated Marine officers course and learn more on how to handle ground conflicts. Our counterparts from the Challenger will be there, as well as a couple other officers who are expected to get deployed with the Marines in the future.” She paused and took a sip from her beer.

I thought for a moment. “I didn't really think they would use my suggestion this quickly. I think I'm actually looking forward to it.” She laughed lightly causing me to look at her questioningly.

“There have been some questions about you transferring to the Marines, Jeremiah.” She answered. “I know you love being a starship officer too much to give it up, but I have heard rumors of a betting pool.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I asked rhetorically as I shook my head at the undeniable humor in the situation. This let me catch sight of Ambassador Worf entering the compartment. I pointed him out to Sandra before standing up to greet him.

“Good to meet you again, Ambassador.”

“It is good to see you as well, Commander Sorenson.” He quickly looked me over and grunted in satisfaction. “You look much better than last time I saw you, Commander. At the time you were unconscious and the surgeon had just opened up your elbow to get all the pieces back in order. I trust he did a good job?” The Ambassadors deep voice made it feel like you were being rolled over by a wave when he got going.

I lifted my arm and bent the elbow to show that it was fully functional. He studied the thin scar that traced around my arm and seemed satisfied for the moment. Sandra on the other hand looked a little uncomfortable by the mental image of my elbow as a jigsaw puzzle.

“Would you like to join us, Ambassador?” I asked as Sandra and I sat down.

“Yes.” He answered before getting the waitresses attention and ordering a prune juice.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to see me about, Ambassador?” I asked after he had gotten his drink.

“Yes, Commander. I wanted to congratulate you on your abilities. I saw how you were captured and no warrior could ask for more.” I bowed my head slightly in
recognition of his compliment and waited for him to continue. “I also wish to say that once I have completed my debriefing back on Earth I intend to seek a position within Starfleet. I do not yet know where I will serve. However it would be an honor to serve with you in the future, Commander.” He bowed his head to me, and I returned the gesture.

“I would feel the same, Ambassador.”

We sat in silence for a moment before the Ambassador leaned forward and broke the silence once more.

“Has there been any progress in the investigation of the traitor General Kerlak mentioned, Commander?” The brandy I was sipping on froze halfway to my mouth as I looked around for anyone who was close enough to hear his words. Luckily there was no one close enough to hear the soft spoken words.

“Ambassador, please don't mention that in public. We are trying to keep it as quiet as possible. It would not help at all if the hypothetical traitor heard we were looking for them.” My response was spoken very softly as I leaned forward myself toward the Ambassador. Sandra leaned in as well and I thought for a moment how clearly our body language must scream that we were talking about something we wished to keep quiet.

“There is already a rumor going around the ship about a covert investigation, Commander.” My eyes widened at the information. “I guess you haven't checked in with the Bosun yet, sir?” I shook my head in answer. The Bosun could be relied upon to keep track of what was going on with the crew at any given time. If he was picking up that rumor It could be very bad for the investigation.

“I guess I'm going to have to get back to duty and try to squash the rumor. If that's even possible.” I thought of what I could realistically do to protect the investigation. Unfortunately the only thing that came to mind was 'not much'. “I'm afraid I am going to have to leave you two and go see someone.”

I stood up and nodded to both of them. Then I left my drink on the table and left the room.

***

“Bosun, could I have a moment of your time?” I asked the gray haired man standing behind his desk in a cramped office in the middle of deck 8.

“Of course, Commander. What can I do for you?” I stepped fully into the room so the door could close behind me, ensuring our privacy. I waved him back into his chair and sat myself in one of the chairs facing his desk.

“I understand there is a rumor going around the ship of a certain investigation underway. How widespread is it?” He sat back and thought about the question for a moment before answering.

“Mostly rumors from security, sir. They don't seem too widespread at the moment. Though they do seem to be very persistent. I don't know who the original source is at the moment, sir. I could try to find out if you wish, sir?” I considered the offer, stroking my incipient beard, thinking about what the best way to deal with this was. I also had an unformed suspicion about the rumors that was nagging at the back of my head.

“Quietly Bosun, very quietly. But don't do anything to squash them. I'd like to know who the source is. Also, don't try to quash them. Just keep track and report to me if anything odd happens. I'm going to go talk to Lieutenant Swanson and see about it, we might be able to use the rumors in some way.” He looked at me with a steady gaze as he nodded once.

“Of course, sir. I'll take care of that. Was there anything else, Commander?” Though he did not actually say the words, I still clearly heard, 'because I'm quite busy at the moment', appended to the sentence. I returned the gaze with a smile.

“No, Bosun. I think that's all for now. I'll get back to you in a while for the details.” He stood up as I left. Not at attention, as had begun to be so popular on board after we started carrying Marines around, but respectful none the less.

Stepping out into the corridor I looked around a moment before reaching out to a wall mounted terminal to activate it.

“Computer, where is Captain Pelatier?”

“Captain Pelatier is on the bridge, Commander Sorenson.” It answered in its regular emotionless tone.

“And Lieutenant Swanson?”

“Lieutenant Swanson is also on the bridge, Commander Sorenson.” I did not want to interrupt them with so many people around.

“Send both of their terminals a message that I would like to meet up with them as soon as they are off duty.” That should do the job I thought as I started walking slowly down the hallway.

I walked the corridors of deck 8 deep in thought, paying almost no attention to the myriad of crew quarters and lab spaces I passed. The rumors troubled me with how fast they had appeared. The fleet had only been underway for Earth for a few days, so the rumors must have started almost as soon as the investigation had started. I went over a mental list of everyone I knew that had been informed of the investigation. Not that it helped much as everyone on the list was cleared for such sensitive information. If they had not had the clearance they would not have been on the list to start with.

Of course, the person who had leaked the information was probably on the same list, and certainly on a similar list. As Lieutenant Swansons head investigator had noted, you can only be betrayed by someone you trust.

It was with such troubled thoughts I looked up and realized I had walked most of the way around the ship. Turn a corner and walk down a short corridor and I would be home. I felt the draw of a snack and a nap before I was to go on duty on the bridge for the night watch. Maybe even catch up on some reading that I had been falling behind on over the last few days. I put the problem of the traitor out of my mind and walked around the last corner before my quarters with a smile.

The smile died a rapid death along with my hopes of a relaxing evening as I saw who was outside my door, waiting for me.

“Sergeii, what can I do for you? Have you been waiting long?” I asked the ships Counselor as I approached. He looked at me through narrowed eyes for a moment.

“No, I haven't been waiting long. I need to talk to you, Commander. It's about some rumors I have heard.” My mind snapped back to my earlier thoughts as I stepped around the Counselor and keyed my door open. I let him precede me into my quarters, allowing me to ensure the corridor had been empty.

“Can I get you something, Sergeii?” I tried to put a friendly face on to defuse the fight I could feel coming up. I just couldn't manage to put much effort into it, so my tone had been almost as cold as the Counselors. I punched in a request for a coffee and nothing else as he failed to answer, he simply stood in the middle of the room and looked at me.

“I want to know what you have been telling the Captain, Jeremiah.” The belligerence in his tone was impossible to miss.

“It would help if you told me what you were referring to Lieutenant Commander Grigorii.” My tone was far colder than his and the use of his full rank reminded him that while he was Counselor on board, he was also an officer of Starfleet. He was obviously not used to thinking in that way, and did not appreciate it as his face worked as if he had bitten down on something sour.

“I am talking, Commander, about the preposterous rumors that someone on this ship sold secrets to the Klingons.” He stared at me as to dare me to contradict him. While I once would have cared about his opinion about me, I found myself immensely unimpressed with him at this point.

“Sit down, Lieutenant Commander.” I gestured at the chair in front of me. He continued to stare at me for a moment before he slowly sat in the indicated chair. “Better. Now, Lieutenant Commander. The rumors you speak of refers to an investigation that is not for general distribution to the ship at large. It is very sensitive and is very important. As I am sure you can understand. Therefore I would ask that you assist in quashing any rumors you may hear of, and informing the Captain or myself of anything you hear in regards to those rumors.” My eyes never left his as I spoke. He never let his gaze fall as his expression grew angrier.

“No, Commander. I will not let you poison this crew into thinking there is a traitor on board. No matter how discrete you pretend to be. How you could even imagine there is one is beyond me. I am privy to the psychological profiles of the entire crew and not one of them, not a single one, is capable of the treason your investigation is pursuing.” He was leaning forward in his chair as he snapped back at me.

“I really don't care what you may think about that, Lieutenant Commander. These are the facts of the matter Sergei, the only way they could have known our timing of the assault well enough to ambush us, is if they had our plans in advance. The investigators have already narrowed it down to a few security messages. Once we get back and hand the files and our facts over to a magistrate, we will find out whoever sold us out and caused the deaths of eight members of the crew!” By now I was standing up behind my desk, leaning over toward the Counselor, and clearly furious.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He came to his feet and leaned toward me himself. “I've checked the lists. Only three members of the crew died in that prison. The rest of them were damn Marines. They are not now and have never been members of this crew.”

I slammed my fist down in the table hard enough to spill the coffee and remind me that my elbow was not quite fully healed yet.

“I have heard enough out of you. I don't care what your position on this ship is, or who you think you know. Those men and women died saving lives. I know you don't like them, but you will keep such opinions to yourself or I will have you up on charges of insubordination and conduct unbecoming so fast it will make you head spin.” His eyes widened, but he did not back down.

“I will not be silent!” He roared back at me. “I will do anything I can, go to any length, defy any authority to protect what makes the Federation the greatest
achievement in human history. To protect it against itself if necessary!” He took a step back. His hands balled into fists and body hunched over as violence hung in the air from both sides of the desk.

“I'm warning you Sergeii. Don't do anything you'll come to regret.” He looked at me with an expression of fury.

“Regret? I regret nothing! We will fight you, Commander. We will not let this stand!” With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

---

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

"we?"

Sounds like a conspiracy to me.

Chapter 17

After spending as much time on starships as I did, it was a rare treat to feel real sunlight and wind on your face. Sandra and I stepped out of one of the many buildings that made up Starfleet HQ into a brilliantly sunny day. I blinked at the bright light after having been in a deep conference room for what felt like a few days.

“Since we got off early, let's go get a coffee. I'm sure we can find something over by the public areas, and Shari isn't going to be available for a few hours.” I said as we paused just outside the entrance to get our bearings.

“Sounds good to me, Commander. Lead on.” She answered with a smile. I looked around and caught sight of the path I had been looking for. We headed off down the path towards the bay. After a moment Sandra spoke softly.

“So, Commander. Did you get the feeling they didn't quite believe us about whoever sold us out?” Her tone was as carefully neutral as she could make it. My response was far less neutral.

“I did pick that up. In fact I would be willing to bet that Lieutenant Swansons investigators are not going to have a pleasant time defending their findings. Did you notice Rear Admiral Vaquero?”

She looked over at me with a frown. “The Admiral from the Judge Advocate?” I nodded as we turned a corner to enter a section of park overlooking the bay. The path was shadowed by large trees on either side. “I didn't really study her, but she sure didn't look happy. Why do you mention her, sir? She wasn't the only flag officer in there that didn't look happy.”

“I mention her because she is fairly high up in their investigative section.” We had walked over to the railing separating the park from a fairly high drop into the bay below. “In fact, she is the commander of the investigative division.” Sandra looked out over the water with a pensive expression for a moment as she thought about what I had said.

“Do you think she would sabotage the investigation, sir?” Her frown deepened at the thought.

“No, not really, Sandra. I'm actually fairly certain she will do a very thorough investigation of the issue. I guess I just wish she could have shown some more enthusiasm for the investigation.”

We turned away from the view towards the small outdoor cafe nestled in the trees between the path we had followed and the cliffs. As soon as we sat down a waiter appeared to take our orders back to the replicator.

“So what are we going to do about it, sir?” I looked over at her from the view of the bay I had been looking out over after we placed our orders.

“What do you mean, Sandra?”

“Is there anything we can do to help the investigation?”

“Nope. We have handed it over to competent authorities and now it's up to them. Marie's team gives the JAG investigators the best brief they can pull together and then we sit back and wait.” She frowned in thought as the waiter returned with our coffees. “I know you want to do something, Sandra. But with the tension building down here I don't think we should do anything at all.”

Despite looking very unhappy about the situation she nodded in agreement. We both sat and sipped our coffee in silence as we considered the situation before us. The Admirals who had handled the final debrief about the prison portion of the operation had tried to hide the tension they had been under, but failed miserably.

Several of the Admirals had spent the meeting glaring daggers at each other. For the eightieth time today I wished I knew why there was so much hostility between them. The investigation that had started on the ship was undoubtedly unpleasant. It was however not something anyone in Starfleet could ignore. Especially since it pointed to there being more traitors back on Earth.

“Commander Sorenson?” I looked around at hearing my name, looking for who had called it. The accent was distinct and familiar, but I did not manage to place it until I saw the tall, slim man in civilian clothes standing at the entrance to the sitting area.

“Lord Howard.” I smiled and stood up to greet him, with Sandra quickly standing up next to me. We shook hands as he reached the table and I invited him to join us. He agreed and waved for the waiter. “I wasn't expecting to see you here, sir.” I said once he was seated.

“I am retired, Jeremiah. My name is John.” He said with a smile for both me and Sandra. “And as to why I am here. I have a nephew who is going through the Academy at the moment and I was on my way to see him. I missed his birthday and was going to invite him for supper tonight.”

“I seem to remember the rare luxury of having time to really enjoy a meal during my time there, sir. I'm sure he will appreciate it.” The retired Admiral chuckled as he clearly had similar memories.

“I am sure he will, Jeremiah, I'm sure he will. So what are you two doing here? I would have thought you would be knee deep in flag officers doing a full debriefing.”

“The Captain and Shari are still there. Our part done though, so we have the rest of the day off.” I answered. “The decision to come here and enjoy the weather was a hard one for two veteran spacers such as ourselves.” I raised my coffee cup with an off center smile. Sandra joined me in a salute to the former Admiral who laughed with us.

“Well Jeremiah, Sandra, it was good to see the two of you again.” He finished off his coffee and stood to leave. He suddenly paused and looked back down at us. “I just had an idea. I would like to invite the two of you and Captain Nakhoda to supper tomorrow night.” He paused and waited for us to respond with a confident smile on his face.

I looked at Sandra who nodded her consent. “I can't really speak for Shari, John. But I'm sure we would all like to come. And she is a Lieutenant Colonel now.”

“Of course she is. I will be prepared to properly congratulate her tomorrow evening then.” He grinned hugely at us as he pulled out an antique pen from a pocket and wrote a small note. “Meet me here at eight tomorrow night.” He handed me the note beforesaying farewell to us, and disappearing down the path towards the Academy. As he turned a corner Sandra let out a deep breath.

“He is certainly energetic enough.” She noted with a smile.

“That he is.” I agreed a bit distractedly.

“What's on your mind, Jer?”

“I don't know, Sandra.” I put a smile on my face and turned back to Sandra from where Lord Howard had gone. “I'm probably just a bit more tired from the debriefings than I thought.” She smiled in understanding even as she reached over to pick up the note Lord Howard had put on the table.

“The Hen and the Pickle pub?” She looked a little confused. “We are going to a bar for dinner?”

“Lord Howard is from the British isles. They have a tradition of pubs that both serve as bars and restaurants. I'm sure they serve excellent food, Sandra. And in any event we will find out tomorrow.”



“You wanted to see me, Captain?” I entered the Captains ready room from the bridge where I had the midday watch. The Captain was behind his desk with an unhappy expression. He did not to answer me, instead opting to simply spin his console around so I could see the text on the screen.

From: Admiral Xiang, Starfleet Personnel.
To: Captain Pelatier, Commanding USS Venture.
Effective as of 0800 hours this date, Lieutenant Commander Grigorii is reassigned to other duties. His replacement on board the USS Venture will be Lieutenant Commander Delmonte. Lieutenant Commander Delmonte is currently en route from Andoria and should arrive in system no later than 1800 on the 18th day of March 2381 with arrival to your command no more than 24 hours after. Attached to this message you will find Lieutenant Commander Delmontes service record as well as supplemental information regarding the change in personnel.
Signed the 12th day of March 2381.
Admiral Pheizhi Xiang, Commanding officer, Starfleet Department of Personnel.

“I know we were getting ready to request his replacement, Captain, but I didn't expect it to go this fast.” I was almost shocked at how fast Starfleet Personnel had moved on this. The Captain and I had discussed the issue the night before and made a preliminary decision to replace the Counselor at the earliest possible time. For obvious reasons.

“I haven't sent in the request yet, Commander.” His tone was quite cold when he said it, and understandably so. Someone was messing with his ships personnel.

“Why would the Counselor be reassigned now, Captain? He had at least a year left on his deployment on the Venture.” I knew the obvious answer was politics of some sort, but this move could hurt the Counselors career. Failing to fulfill a deployment was not something that promotion boards liked to see in a service record. So it seemed unlikely the move had been thought up by allies of the Counselor.

“I don't know right now, Jer. But you can be certain that I will get to the bottom of this.” The Captain was as angry as I think I had ever seen him. Not that anyone who had not spent the last few years working as closely with him as me would have noticed. Luckily I knew I was not the target of his irritation. “For now though I need to announce this to the crew. Once you get off shift on the bridge you need to get with Lieutenant Commander Roland and figure out how this is going to affect the ship and it's crew.” His voice held that unmistakeable snap of command.

I nodded sharply. “Aye, sir. Anything else, sir?”

“Nothing like this at least. Get me a preliminary report on the effect this will have before you head back to Earth for dinner. Don't get ambitious, just highlight any problems you see coming. Now get out of here.” The smile he wore took any sting out of his words, and his revelation that he knew of the invitation from Lord Howard was something I had come to expect from him after spending a few years on this ship, so I simply braced to attention and stepped back out onto the bridge.

I walked over to the commanders chair and sat down to look at the main view screen, which was presently set to show a schematic of the traffic in Earth orbit. Or at least the portion of it that was within a few thousand kilometers of the ship. The gigatons of starships that moved in and out of orbit every hour and the skill traffic control displayed in making sure there were no accidents had always been a performance I enjoyed watching.

Opening up the small screen in the arm of the chair, I called up the location of 6th fleet. We had been detached from the fleet almost the moment we had arrived back in the system, where as our sister the Challenger and the company of Marines embarked on her had stayed with the fleet. They had stayed in the system only long enough to pick up replacements and resupply before they headed out to the front lines of the war again.

I looked at the icons of more than a hundred starships speeding towards a target and felt a sudden longing to be just a Starfleet officer again.

The past few months had hardly been relaxing for me, and I could not help but think that I would have been happier as the XO of one of the Soverigns over there. Or maybe even Captain of a Defiant. No fights between Marines and crew members to mediate. No Admirals looking at me like I might be infectious. No Klingons using painstiks on me.

Just my duty, the ship and the stars.

My thoughts were interrupted by the Captain coming on the ship wide announcement system and breaking the news about Sergei, causing a few people to call the bridge and have me explain that they knew as much as I did and that any further information would be posted on the ships computer systems.

I decided to use the time to write up the report the Captain had requested.

The midday watch neared its end as I signed off on a set of routine reports, closed the console I was using and leaned back to watch the starships moving around Earth. A few minutes before the next watch Lieutenant Mendez stepped out of the turbolift and walked around to stand next to me.

“Good afternoon mister Mendez. I assume you heard the Captains announcement?”

“Yes, sir I did. Have we heard anything about why he left, sir?”

“No, Lieutenant, we have not. And we probably will not hear anything about it for weeks, if ever. Other than that it has been a quiet and calm watch. Engineering is running a level 1 diagnostic on the deflector systems and we got a replenishment shipment for our forward torpedo magazines. Nothing out of the ordinary, and everything is in the log.”

“Very well, sir. I relieve you.”

“I stand relieved, Lieutenant. Have a good watch.” He sat down in the chair as I walked back around the tactical station and left the bridge.

After sitting for so long I chose to forgo the turbo lift in favor of regular stairs. I had a bit of flex in my planning for the evening so I took my time walking down into the ship. The corridors were nearly empty with most of the ship down on Earth on leave. The quiet was something I enjoyed, but was uncommon on a ship with several thousand people living and working in it.

Stepping into my quarters I reached out, almost subconsciously, to touch the dagger mounted on the wall. Ever since I got back on the ship the dagger had become something of a touchstone for me. A macabre good luck charm that reminded me that despite everything that had happened I had always come out on top.

I showered, trimmed the beard I had grown after Fa'Rov and put on a fresh uniform. A quick look in the mirror told me that I was fully presentable for dinner. Satisfied I secured the phaser presented to me underneath my uniform, touched the dagger for luck and stepped back out into the ship to meet up with Shari and Sandra before we beamed down to London.



I had heard jokes about the London weather most of my life. Stepping out of the transport station close to Nelson square came as a surprise. While the sun had already set, the sky above was clear and the air was warm. I looked up and could see the constellations of near Earth industry glowing in a belt across the sky, despite the light given off by the city.

The city itself was alive with people of every size, shape and color. Which was also a good description for the light in the city. Street lights, signs and traffic lit up the city all the way up to the heavens as far as I could see.

“So where is this pub, Jer?” Shari asked as she stepped up next to me. I looked around to get my bearings, quickly spotting what I was looking for.

“Over there.” I responded and headed off towards the parked taxis. I walked over to the first one where the driver smiled at us and opened the door for us.

“Where can I take you?” The driver asked once we were all seated.

“The hen and pickle pub.” Sandra responded.

“Please fasten your seat belts. We will arrive in eight minutes, ladies and sir.” The taxi took off and expertly threaded itself into the traffic pattern as we flew between towering skyscrapers and recreations of ancient architecture. The smooth ride let us simply play tourist and talk.

“So, what do you think Lord Howard wants to talk about, Jer?” Shari asked from the seat next to me.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Shari. He is a very social person, so I'm guessing he really does just want to eat dinner with people he knows and likes. We all spent quite some time together on the trip out to Toradia after all.”

“I'm sure you're right, Jer. I guess the last few days of interrogations have just worn me a little thin.” Sandra turned away from looking at the London skyline when she heard Shari's tone.

“Rough debriefing, Shari?” Sandra asked with concern. The normally hard-core Marine officer looked over at her with a tired smile.

“Not really. I've been through far worse, But I'm getting a little tired of some people on the board who seem to be doing everything they can to find fault with how we did on the mission. The constant hostility is just wearing on me. How they got on a Marine after action board is beyond me.”

“You only have a few more days left until we are scheduled for the initial planning on our next operation. I'm sure you and Top can keep the wolves at bay until then. Besides, you have your own allies you can lean on Shari.” I put my arm around her shoulders with a smile in a rare public display of affection.

“It took the two of you long enough.” Sandra said with a satisfied smile. “You know you broke the betting pool on when you would get together twice, right?” I glanced at Shari quickly before I gave Sandra a conspiratorial wink.

“Actually we only broke the first one. Top and the Bosun helped us keep it quiet for a bit.” Sandra's eyebrows shot up in surprise. As the operations officer of the ship she was supposed to be dialed in to what was happening on the ship. Not as much as the Executive Officer, but well enough to be able to know about mine and Shari's relationship.

“Well you certainly managed to fool all of us for a good long time.” Her smile returned as she shook her head. “I see some of that Marine sneakiness has affected you, Jer.”

“Oh I wouldn't say that, I've just been watching the Captain work for a few years now. He certainly sets the bar high on such things. Maybe in another couple of years I can be as sneaky as you seem to think I am.” Sandra's answer was interrupted by our drivers announcement.

“We are arriving, ladies and sir.” The taxi dropped out of the river of vehicles flying through the canyons of London and stopped next to a building that must have been masterfully rebuilt after The Last War. Even from inside the taxi the building felt old.

We climbed out with a thanks to our driver and looked at the brightly painted sign above the entrance of a hen standing on a pickle. I was sure there was some history involved in the building, and that I would be hearing about it shortly from Lord Howard.

The streets around us did not have the same press of people that the main transport station had, but it was still bustling with activity. There was a more or less constant stream of people entering or exiting the pub in front of us. We went over to the pub and stepped into a low dark room crowded with people. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness.

Looking around I could see that the pub had attracted a surprisingly diverse crowd. Besides the expected locals in elegant civilian clothing I could also see several Starfleet personnel, and even a few civilian off worlders. The room was also surprisingly large. The roof was not far overhead, but the walls, all of them covered in view screens and what I can only call trophies, were further away than I had expected. The bar came out from the far wall in a great 'U'. Leaning against it was a tall man with a tall glass of beer who saw us and waved us over.

“Shari, Jeremiah, Sandra, it is good to see you all. Welcome to my favorite watering hole.” John shook all our hands as we greeted him with smiles of our own. “I have a room reserved for us in the back.” He led the way through the tables and people toward a door near the back of the bar. Stepping through the sound level from the crowded pub dropped as soon as the door was shut. A door at the end of the short corridor led to a warm, cozy room with a round wooden table surrounded by chairs.

“Please, be seated my friends.” He walked around the table and sat with his back to the far wall. The rest of us quickly found our own seats as a young redheaded woman came in with a smile and a stack of civilian PADDs.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here is our menu. Can I get you anything while you decide?” She was the most upbeat person I had meet in a long time. It seemed as if she should have skipped around the table as she handed out the menus.

We ordered some drinks that she noted down on a little device before leaving the room. She couldn't have been gone more than a few moments before she came back with a tray filled with our orders. I just shook my head with a bemused smile as we all ordered our dinner. She didn't even bat an eye at how fast we had decided. She must run into people like us deployed types regularly.

“I would like to begin by thanking you for joining me for supper tonight. I fondly remember my time on the Venture and I hope we will work together again someday. How are things on the ship now a days?” He smiled graciously as the waitress walked back in the room and placed our food in front of us before disappearing back out the door.

The next hour went by in a haze of conversation. The ship, the crew, the mission, the war. Everything was covered in some detail. I was again reminded that we were dining with an Admiral as he managed to pull immense details out of us with apparent ease. The conversation was both stimulating and thought provoking.

His tales of the behind the scenes maneuvering involved in the creation of the Marine Corp as well as the changes in Fleet tactics was quite enlightening. Especially since it seemed that the fight still continued to this day. I thought that it would have been interesting to have Sergeii there to give a counterpoint. The thought did not live long as every reason I had to dislike the former Counselor flashed through my mind. Friendship was hard to kill sometimes.

After dessert had been cleared away he convinced Shari to tell him the story of the holding action in the prison on Fa'Rov. She agreed after he told us that he had already
read the reports as a member of the foreign office.

She told of how they had just beaten off a wave of Klingon attackers when we had been attacked in the blocking position. They had made it there in time to save most of Sandra's team and Ambassador Worf. Me they had missed by seconds as the point man had seen me be beamed out when he came around the last corner. The Klingons had all fought to the death, leaving no one to interrogate as to where they had beamed us out to.

“So how did you manage to find them?” Our host was leaning on the table with a beer in one hand as he listened to Shari's story.

“One of Sandra's engineers managed to get a partial dump off one of their remaining beacons before it beamed out with his tricorder. We didn't have enough for a pinpoint trace at the time, but it was enough to let us find you with deep scans from 6th fleet. After that it was a relatively simple matter of a hard drop in the shuttles and taking down the facility.“ She shrugged. “Without the information Chief Sanders got us we would never have been able to find you in time.”

“That would have been most unfortunate if you had not found them in time. I for one am very glad that your Chief Sanders found the information to save the Commander and his people.” I raised my glass in salute with a smile, despite the flash of pain from the death of Monaldi.

“Thank you, John. Chief Sanders has received a commendation for that. Not to mention my personal thanks.”

“Where is the Chief now?” Lord Howard asked.

“I think she is visiting family at the moment.” Sandra answered. “They live just north of San Francisco I believe.” She finished with a sip of her wine just as the waitress threw open the door and stormed in.

My hand reached for my concealed phaser, but I did not draw it as the waitress rushed over to John and whispered something in his ear. I let my hand slip off the grip of the phaser and smooth out my uniform jacket when I saw that the girl was no threat. Next to me Shari was doing the same thing, even though neither of us let our hands stray far from the weapons.

“We need to go see something.” John had stood up as he reacted to the information. Our charming, friendly host was replaced by an Admiral in truth. His voice and demeanor changed from affable friend to commanding officer in a heartbeat by whatever the news waitress had brought We all stood up and followed him out the door back into the pub.

The mood in the main room had changed dramatically. Where there had been revelers and people out with friends enjoying an evening on the town. There was now a room of shocked and horrified people starring at the view screens. I turned to the nearest screen and saw a Klingon warrior crouching behind cover, have the inside of his head removed and scattered across the pavement behind him. I could hear retching from several places in the room as people rushed to empty their stomachs at the sight.

My eyes went wide and I turned to Shari who had turned as pale as I had ever seen her. We were watching helmet cam footage from the assault on Beta Scepri. Shari was starring at the view screen as one of the snipers under her command put a precisely placed chunk of high density metal through the chest cavity of another Klingon hunched behind a pile of fallen debris, showering another Klingon behind him with a spray of blood.

The scene changed to one from an assault team placing a charge on a door during the same mission. The charge went off and immediately two small objects were thrown into the room by the assembled Marines. Two near simultaneous cracks were heard an instant later and the team rushed the room, phaser rifles up and firing.

Several Klingon warrior were visible in the room, torn and bleeding from the fragmentation grenades thrown by the Marines. The only two Klingons who had managed to survive mostly unscathed were blasted off their feet by dozens of phaser impacts. Another Klingon, this one severely wounded, groaned and moved his hand towards a weapon lying on the floor. Three phaser pulses slammed into the back of his head. The combined heat of the fire flash boiled the inside of her cranium causing it's contents to explode out the hole in a cloud of purple gray steam.

I turned to Shari, my eyes wide. “How the fuck did this get on a public channel?” My voice was kept to a shocked whisper by the quiet in the room. She only shook her head in response, still starring at the images on the screen. Her expression was as furious as I had ever seen it.

Around us the people with weak stomachs had fled outside or into the bathrooms. A few had not made it in time and the room had an unmistakeable hint of vomit in the air. Having smelled it and worse recently it barely registered with me.

The footage changed to a news reader after the last scene of burnt and blasted Klingon corpses had faded away. “Ladies and gentlemen. We apologize for showing that footage on air. However, we do believe it is important to know what is being done in the name of expediency in this war. Besides the footage you have just seen, we have received reports of massacres on civilian populations and the torture and summary executions of prisoners by members of the Federation Marine Corps as well as certain members of Starfleet who are attached to those units.”

I tuned out the rest of the news readers spiel and headed for the exit, trailed by both Sandra and Shari with John taking the lead. The crowd around us was in an understandable state of shock. The undercurrent of anger was not something I liked noticing though.

We got out of the pub without anyone connecting the dark green on Shari's uniform with what was on the screens, I just hoped our luck would hold.

“We need to get back to the ship, John. Thank you for dinner and maybe we can do it again someday.” His eyes were narrow and serious as looked around before he shook my hand and responded.

“My pleasure, Jeremiah. Shari, Sandra, thank you for coming and next time I'll try to make sure we do not get interrupted by bad news as bad as this could be.” We had continued walking as we talked. John hailed a taxi for us and waited as we got in to say his final farewell. “Good luck all of you. If you need any help do not hesitate to contact me. And please, give Michael my best.”

Before we could respond he closed the door on the taxi and was hailing a taxi of his own. As we flew off into the night towards the transport station we looked at each other. No words were spoken but we all knew this was going to be bad. We just did not know how bad it was going to get.

---

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

Wow. Well done.

The pay off to this chapter was a blow from a lead weighted bat.

edit: spellin' (sic.)

Releasing that video is a risky move. I don't think it would be all that difficult for the investigators to narrow down the potential sources of the leak. Starfleet may have a bad case of touchy-feely syndrome, but this is a data hunt. And they're pretty good at data hunts.

Of course, if it were going to be that easy, it would be a rather short story, wouldn't it?

That would depend on how seriously the investigators take the incident, wouldn't it? I mean, if they're philosophically opposed to the very concept of the marines, like the Grigori (Sp?) they might not look very hard.

---

A fuse is a physical embodyment of zen, in order for it to succeed, it must fail.

Power to the Peaceful

If you have friends like mine, raise your glasses. If you don't, raise your standards.

Chapter 18

The green bolt of energy missed my head with only a few centimeters to spare. I flinched slightly, but I kept my head exposed for a few more seconds. Another bolt of green came dangerously close to my helmet, forcing me away from the corner. The Klingons were advancing down the port corridor 9 on deck 8. The Venture's shields had been disabled but the Marines had some very useful transport jammers that was forcing the enemy to do things the old fashioned way. The Klingons had forced breaches all across the ship and were now sending warriors across on every shuttle they could get their hands on to take the ship away from us.

I was not going to let them, now I just had to figure out how. “4-1, set up here and keep this corridor clear. 5, get them some barricades built. 1-1 and 1-2 go to ring 4 port 8 and set up a hard point. Chief Sanders, take your team and go with 1-1 and 1-2 to help build them some barricades. The rest of the platoon is to hold position. Keep 'em contained until we can reduce them. Sanders, once you're done with those barricades get back here.”

A chorus of 'yes, sir's came over my com system as the people around me started moving to their positions. The years of experience I had as a command officer helped me keep my voice calm and the orders steady. The bare five days of training I had gotten for this kind of fight told me I really did not know what I was doing. I just hoped it would be enough for now.

The heavy weapons team Cutlass 4-1 took up positions in the middle of the ring corridor where we had taken cover. Private Pittman touched a button on his grenade launcher before putting it to his shoulder and firing twice. The low powered grenades made the metal walls of the corridor beyond the turn ring like a bell as they bounced away from us and towards the Klingons charging our position. The over pressure from the two thunderous explosions slapped around the corner together with the musical ringing of shrapnel and the screams of wounded Klingon warriors.

Before the shrapnel had time to stop falling Private Yamata had stepped around the corner with his heavy phaser leveled and depressed his trigger. A blinding white-yellow light filled the corridor as the Private swept his weapon over the corridor once. The weapon was normally mounted on shuttle craft and even the large Private could only carry it with a support harness and he only had thirty seconds of fire before he would have to change energy packs.

Its effect on the enemy however made the bulk and extra effort worth it. Alarms went off all around us as the air pressure started dropping. Calling up the Privates viewpoint it was clear that he had not simply cleared the corridor of any resistance, he had managed to put a hole through the ships outer hull.

I sighed as I felt my undersuit tighten against the reduced pressure. Around me Marines were cutting out sections of the bulkheads around us and reattaching them to the floor in the middle of the port 9 corridor as impromptu bunkers for the heavy weapons team. A team that was now putting some pretty substantial fire down the corridor, peaking in a crescendo whenever the Klingons tried to force their way forward.

I called up a schematic of this part of the ship and studied it for anything I had missed. I nodded to myself as the icons for Klingons were disappearing across the front we had managed to establish. I sent a fire-team from my reserve to bolster 1st squads position and then I just waited.

The Marines around me stood like alert statues around me, the only thing moving were their heads as they continuously scanned their surroundings. My rebuilt away-team, led by the newly promoted Lieutenant Junior grade Rooney came jogging back around the corner after they had finished ripping the inside of the ship apart to build fighting positions for the Marines. Except for the different markings on their armor they were starting to be indistinguishable from the Marines around them.

Calm but alert they stood close to me with their visors mirrored and their hands on their personal weapons. I felt a pang of pride at how well they had taken to the more formalized training they had been receiving after the Fa'Rov raid. Most of them were veterans from our other away missions in the war and the others had all volunteered, despite the high casualties the away-teams took during the Marine operations.

A beep in my implants told me of a status change in the mission. The change was easy to notice on the schematic. It seemed that Sandra and Katana platoon had run into a little more trouble than they had expected. Engineering was about to fall unless she managed to push back and retake a corridor they had just lost. Already I could see parts of the map change color as the Klingons destroyed sensors in the areas they attacked leaving us blind. With a flash that entire section of the map went dark as they managed to cut the data feeds entirely. Sandra put out a call for reinforcements, but there was no one who was in a position to respond. Except perhaps...

The beginnings of an insane idea struck me. I gave it a few seconds thought and started throwing forces around on my schematic before I was satisfied. It would either save the ship or get us all killed, but it was, as the First Sergeant so loved to say, 'do or die time'.

“All Cutlass units, push forward and retake the enemy entry point. Support, booby-trap everything behind us. We are not coming back soon so make 'em good. Heavies, conserve your ammo. You're going to need it soon. If you find any crew members, stuff them in survival suits and tell them to stay put. Now go!”

4-1 started lashing the corridor in front of them with phaser fire while the grenadiers lobbed grenades into every cross corridor and open hatch they came across. I walked behind them in a ring made of my away-team and the platoons reserve. As we neared the outer hull of the ship I set up a platoon wide transmission.

“Cutlass, Katana platoon is being pushed back from engineering and they expect to loose it shortly. I don't need to tell you how bad that could be. We are going to their rescue. We are going to do this by going EVA and walking down the outside of the hull. It's only about 100 meters from our exit point to where we need to cut through the hull on deck 31. We cut through the hull, push towards the top of the warp core and drop down to main engineering. We then secure it and hold till we are relieved. You all know how insane a firefight in main engineering is, but we do not have time to do it safe. Push hard, push fast and please shoot straight.”

The squad leaders acknowledged my orders and we all picked up the pace. Jogging down the ruined corridor, vaulting the bodies of Klingon aggressors and crew members who had been too slow to get out in time. I kept giving orders the entire length of the corridor, detailing the two heavy phaser privates to be on the lookout for Klingon shuttles. Making sure the Venture wouldn't light off its impulse engines with us right next to them and so on and so forth.

We arrived at the hole the Klingons were entering through just as another shuttle came up to the hole. The warriors who started leaping out of the shuttle had a very rude surprise when four of the Marines 'light' machine guns opened up at point blank range. Everyone in the shuttle was killed in a horizontal hail storm of blue pulses within moments of them opening their doors. Corporal T'Pani from 5th squad calmly stepped forward and tossed a bright red grenade through the opening before hitting a switch on the inside to close the doors. The gunners had let up on their triggers and thrown themselves to cover when they recognized the distinctive red grenade.

The Corporal just threw herself away from the opening before the photon grenade initiated and turned the back of the Klingon shuttle into a field of expanding shrapnel. Its doors were blasted down the corridor we had just advanced up. One lodging itself in the overhead and the other looked like it made it all the way down to the Bosuns office, setting of more than a dozen booby traps along the way. All of the air in the corridor was vented into space in a massive gush of wind and almost took the Vulcan Corporal with it.

“Everyone out the hole. Get to the breach point.” I snarled over the communicator while I starred at the Corporal as we both cleared our visors. Switching over to a private channel I addressed the Corporal shortly. “You and I are going to have a discussion later about the appropriate time and place for nuclear weapons. Even itty, bitty, tiny ones.”

Her expression didn't change as she nodded sharply and came to attention. I continued to stare at her for a moment until I reset my visor and stepped out of the hole with the rest of the platoon.

Space around the ship was a mad house of weapons fire and exploding starships. The Venture was still partially in the fight and I could see torpedoes leaving the aft launcher and phaser fire leaping off into space. A lance of green slammed into the port nacelle even as I watched, punching through the skin of the ship to wreak havoc on the delicate systems within. A chunk of the nacelle came loose and spun off towards our group. I horror I saw a whole fire-team be crushed by the multi-ton chunk of alloy. The team next in line was no luckier as they were caught by the rebounding piece and flipped off the hull and into space. I cursed as I lost eight members of the platoon in as many seconds. I took a deep breath and moved forward as fast as I could to get us all off the hull as fast as I could.

By the time I had reached the place designated as our entry point the breaching charge had been set and everyone was ready to go. A quick look at the tactical schematic showed the inside to most likely be clear of crew members and hostiles. I held up my hand to the Private handling the detonator and did a quick final check before I slashed my hand down.

The charge burned with a pure white light in a circle for a few moments before the kicker charge activated and blasted the chunk of hull into the ship. A couple
grenades followed the hull section in with that odd muffled thump of an explosion in vacuum. Lastly the Marines on point stormed the compartment.

Watching the events within on my HUD I saw them clear the room before opening the internal door and clearing the corridor beyond. We followed them into the ship as
the Marines on point rapidly pushed the perimeter out and forward towards the top of main engineering.

With no hostiles in the area we made it to engineering in less than a minute from blowing open the hull. The hatches had been sealed from the inside, leaving my away-team to override the block as fast as they could.

“No grenades and no heavies. Be damn careful what you shoot. Clear the room and push the hostiles back. Go!” Around me people clutched their weapons tighter in anticipation as the door opened.

Two fire-teams threw themselves through the door, weapons up and searching for threats. We pushed through quickly and by the time I got in the Marines had already hooked up lines to hard points and jumped over the railing separating us from the nine story drop to the bottom of the ship. They fell fast and with out any initial resistance.

My hopes that we had made it in time were shattered as flashes of green ascended to meet the Marines on their way down. Blue flashes rained down in response from the Marines still on the upper levels left there to cover the descent. When they finally touched the floor in main engineering I had lost three more Marines to enemy fire.

Unfortunately the Klingons had not been taking any chances, and as soon as the first Marine touched the deck an explosive charge on the main matter to antimatter mixing chamber exploded. The last thing I saw was a flash of white light.

The light died down and I found myself standing in an empty holodeck shaking my head at loosing the ship for the third time in three days. I pulled my helmet off and brushed my armored fingers through sweat matted hair as the door opened up and Shari walked in followed by the First Sergeant and Captain Arisu.

“Not bad at all, Commander.” She said with a genuine smile. “Except for the last bit and loosing two fire-teams on the EVA, you succeeded in two of your three primary objectives.” The First Sergeant was not quite as cheerful when she added her opinion.

“Unfortunately, sir, the objective you failed at was keeping the ship in one piece and combat capable. Oh and you also died. That tends to be a failure as well, sir.” Around us the away-team and Marines had removed their helmets and were shaking their heads in disappointment. The 'dead' Marines picked themselves off the deck to a little good natured jeering from their companions.

“I can see your point with the EVA losses. I just don't see how we could have gotten there in time to stop them from sabotaging the core.” I frowned in thought. No new ideas occurred to me however.

“Did you consider beaming down?” Shari asked softly as we walked out of the holodeck on our way to debriefing for the after action review.

“I did. The tac schematic said that there were transport jammers in action though. So the only way I could think of getting there fast enough was to do the EVA.”

Tops answer was delayed by 1st platoon and Sandras team meeting up with us in the corridor outside our destination. I greeted her with a nod as the doors opened and we stepped into the briefing room. The auditorium style briefing room was just large enough for both platoons and away-teams. Once we had settled down in our seats the First Sergeant resumed the thread of the critique from the head of the room.

“To continue where we left off, sir. you could still have done a pad to pad, sir. Or had 1st platoon deploy beam in beacons. Remember that the majority of jamming in this kind of scenario is going to be generated by us. If the beacons have the right key you can be beamed in straight through the jamming. Won't help you with any other interference that's strong enough though. Then your only chance is a pad to pad, sir. But in this case their jamming would have been insufficient to prevent you from sending a squad or two in support within 90 seconds. Instead of the 378 it took you to get boots on the engineering deck.” She paused as Shari took over.

“I would next like to talk about your choice in going EVA, Commander. It worked this time, and it was not what the enemy had expected, giving you a clear run to main engineering. However, any fire that impacted the outside of the ship would have wiped out your entire platoon. In addition the hole you burned made the computer core more exposed to future enemy fire.”

And that was what the next hour or so was like.



“Well that could have gone better.” I leaned back in my station chair and crossed my ankles on the desk. Letting out a long slow breath to release some of the tension of the day and work out some kinks in my neck.

“Actually I thought it went very well, Jer.” Shari sat on the couch underneath the porthole in my quarters, nursing a cup of tea and a faint smile. “Your idea to do the EVA was brilliant.”

“That's not what it sounded like during the AAR, Shari.”

“We aren't supposed to be stroking your ego, Jer. You aren't teenage cadets with confidence issues. We already know you are going to make your own decisions no matter what we say. We just need to make sure you have all the available information before you make the decision. Besides, the likelihood of you ever being in a similar position is very slim indeed.” She shrugged. “We aren't trying to turn you into Marines, Jer. We are teaching you how to survive and to know what we can do.”

“Well so far you have shown me I can get the ship blown up three times in as many days.” The frustration was clear in my voice. Shaking my head at having yet another alternate plan to save the ship show up in my head I reached out and picked up my coffee cup. Shari started to protest but I waived her of. “I'm not complaining Shari. I just haven't had this much problems in tactical exercises since the academy. After ship handling 'clicked' for me I have never run into a situation that gave me this much trouble. I guess the frustration is just getting to me a little.” She smiled in understanding as I set the cup back on the table.

“Have you heard anything about the new Counselor yet?” She asked in a clear attempt to change the subject. A change I embraced.

“Not really. I've read her file and talked to a few old acquaintances who have run into her over the years. Not that anyone seems to be able to give the answers we are looking for. We are just going to have to see how she stands towards the Marines when she comes on board tomorrow evening. I doubt she can be any worse than Sergei though.” My tone must have changed at the last as Shari looked up at me from the PADD in front of her,

“Still haven't found Sergei yet?” She asked after watching me frown for a moment.

“No. And I'm not entirely sure I want to find him at the moment. I'm sure you have heard the rumors. It's becoming pretty damn clear he was the one who leaked the information that got a lot of people killed. I though I knew him once, but obviously I was dead wrong. I can't believe I considered him a friend Shari.” I took a sip of coffee to cover the expression on my face that threatened to turn into a snarl.

“Quite a few of my people would love to get their hands on him as well, Jer. But did he really do it?” I looked at her as if daring her to believe what she just said. It affected her a little less than earthquakes affect starships. “I'm not saying he is innocent. I'm just saying that it does not track with what I knew of him. The man is one of the most principled people I have ever met, Jer. I have a hard time seeing him condone any violence for any reason. A man like that does not sell information like that at any price. And any information that will cause deaths he would have protected with his own life.”

It was her turn to shrug as she obviously struggled with an inability to reconcile the two faces of our former Counselor. I let my boots fall to the deck as I leaned forward on my desk and considered her point. For she certainly had one.

With some difficulty I set my emotions aside and focused on Sergei, trying to envision how he could have knowingly sold us out. Despite what he had said to me the last time we spoke I found it impossible that he would have knowingly caused as much death and pain as he did. The leaked video that was still playing all over the planetary net and some new channels was another matter entirely.

I was personally convinced, and I knew that the JAG corps was nearly as convinced, that Sergei had been the one to supply whoever actually leaked the footage. The access logs had been clear as could be about that.

“I guess we just have to find him so we can ask him why he did it. Not that it is particularly hard to figure out why he leaked the footage of you guys taking down that facility in Beta Scepri. That has really gotten people in an uproar.” Uproar might have been a bit mild to use in this case as there had been calls from every part of the Federation for investigations into every single allegation fronted on the news channels. The Captain had informed myself and Shari that everything we had done was cleared by Starfleet command, so there would not be any court martials. Civilian and political issues on the other hand were bound to be bad.

Shari frowned at the reminder. “I know. I've been meaning to tell you that I have been called to the Federation Council in a couple days to account for my units actions. General LeMay tells me it's going to be okay. I just wish I could be as confident about it as she is. I'm worried that I'm going to be in the middle of a political witch hunt.”

I rocked back a bit in my chair. The Council was not something anyone in Starfleet wanted to have to deal with. After seeing Shari calmly lead her Marines in some very hard combat operations without a ghost of doubt, I could almost feel sorry for the Councilors despite my concern for Shari.

“Is the General going with you to the hearing?”

“Yes, but I'm the one they seem to be after. Not that that's entirely bad. If they focus on me, they won't have time to go after my Marines. Besides, all our actions have been cleared by Starfleet.” She tossed her head once, as if to physically get rid of the bad thoughts. “No matter what happens though, anyone who goes after my people are in for a fight they will never forget.” I heard the steel return to her voice and some of my worries fell away.

“Now that is something I have no trouble believing, Shari.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “That you will never back down from a fight.” I ended the sentence with an aggressive smile of my own. “Have you heard from Lord Howard in the few days? He disappeared really fast when the footage broke.”

“No. I was hoping you had. He seemed to be after something in our meeting but got interrupted before getting to it. Not that I blamed him for rushing us out of there. It was getting unpleasant, fast.”

“That it was, Jer. Next time someone releases classified material to the planetary data net I plan on being in armor with a platoon around me.” I chuckled at the image of Shari and one of her platoons sitting in the Hen and Pickle in their armor. They would have cheered and made snarky comments about the video when it came on. All the while drinking themselves into oblivion, one pint at a time with Gunny Omma and Private Holmberg at their head.

“Speaking of such, when do you have to be on duty next?”

“Not until tomorrow morning. Why?”

“Let's get out of uniform and head down to the surface and find a nice bar somewhere. I've always wanted to go to a place in the Andes Sandra recommended a while back.” She smiled at the idea and quickly drained her cup.

“What are we waiting for?”



“Yes, Sandra. We are going down tomorrow morning to start planning our next operation.” I returned the look of satisfaction on her image in my console with one of my own.

“About time they figured out what to do with us. I was beginning to think they had forgotten us.”

“I know what you mean. But between the investigations and the grumblings caused by the leak. I can't really blame them for being a little cautious in how they use the Marines at the moment. I even heard that the Challenger is on it's way back from their op already.”

“How did they do?” Her expression became serious again. We were both intimately familiar with how many casualties the Marines tended to take.

“I haven't seen the casualty lists, but I've heard it's not as bad as it could have been. And the Klingon raid on Caldio was stopped cold. They have a bunch of prisoners with them at least.” Before she could reply a priority signal sounded from both my console and my combadge.

“I'll have to get back to you, Sandra. I just got a priority message.”

“Okay, Jer. I'll see you on the bridge in a few hours. Out here.” She disappeared from my screen to be replaced by a flashing icon. Touching it gave me a message to report to the Captain in the battle bridge conference room as soon as possible. Meaning right now. But why the battle bridge? It confused me as I holstered my sidearm under my uniform tunic, touched the dagger on the wall for luck and stepped out of my quarters toward the turbo-lift.

The battle bridge was nearly dark as I exited the turbo-lift. I let my eyes adjust for a moment before I stepped around the silent consoles toward the door at the aft of the bridge. The doors whisked open to allow me in to where the Captain, Shari and Sergeant Aisdottir from 3rd platoon sat around the table, obviously waiting for me.

“Welcome, Commander.” The Captain waved me to the chair next to him and opposite Shari, who wore a thoroughly displeased expression. I walked around the table and sat down. The confusion was clear in my expression as I asked.

“What is going on, sir?”

“We will get to exactly what is going on in moment. First I believe introductions are in order. I believe you know Sergeant Aisdottir?”

“Yes, sir. She was on Toradia and she has helped me a bit in the pistol course.”

“Well, XO, her full name and rank is Lieutenant Commander Madelene Aisdottir of Starfleet intelligence. She is also a member of an organization you may have heard of before. Section 31.” My jaw had started to drop when he told me her real rank and my eyebrows shot up when he told me who she really worked for. Shari must not have suspected anything either as her eyes narrowed and her right hand disappeared from sight. Had my brain been functioning I would have realized she was keeping her hand close to her holstered phaser.

“Are you serious, sir?” I asked incredulously, my gaze going back and forth between my Captain and Sergeant né Lieutenant Commander Aisdottir.

“Very, XO. We are both members of that organization.” I rocked back in my chair as if he had struck me. At a complete loss for words. Section 31 was hardly talked about openly. And even when the name was whispered it was never to say anything nice about them. The closest thing the Federation came to having a secret police was them. And they were most emphatically not officially sanctioned by either Starfleet or the Federation.

“You have got to be joking!” I blurted out after a moment of silence in the room. Shari was looking between all of us with her eyes narrowed.

“He is not kidding, Jer.” Shari said in a quiet tone of voice. “It explains why we are on the Venture.” She looked back at the Captain, who was sitting back in his chair waiting for us to get the initial reaction out of our systems.

“Captain Collins of the Challenger is a member as well. Isn't she, Captain?” The Captain looked at her and simply nodded in affirmation. “Section 31 has always been about what is good for the Federation. Without any regard for morality or ideology. Section 31 pushed the Marine project through?” Again the Captain nodded.

“With one small quibble, Colonel. We may not follow the same rules that Starfleet in general follow, but morality and ideology are very important to us. We simply avoid the trappings of political expediency and the need for public relations.”

My head was clearing and I was beginning to think straight again. It was all starting to make sense. Section 31 would love to get their hands on a force like the Marines. Their training and attitudes were vastly different compared to the normal members of Starfleet. While there were a myriad of questions running through my head, one was at the forefront.

“Why are you telling us this? And why now?” The Captain waved at Aisdottir, who had largely been ignored after the Captains revelations. Shari and I turned to look at the tall, slim woman with the bright red hair.

“There are several reasons we are telling you this now, sirs. The main reason is that we fear certain factions within the Federation are planning to do something foolish in an attempt to divert the Federation from the course it is currently on. The two of you are almost certainly going to be involved in any plans made by the people I just mentioned.”

“Why do you say that, Sergeant?” Shari was clearly displeased at Aisdottirs revelation of her identity. Her tone was noticeably cold. Though it was The Captain who answered the question.

“Because of Counselor Grigorii.” Some more pieces fell into place inside my head.

“He has been working for them all along. Hasn't he, sir?” I asked.

“We aren't sure how long he has been actively working for them. In fact we have reason to believe he was only recruited after the Beta Scepri raid. Please note that it wasn't until after he disappeared we found clear evidence he was actively working against us. We had of course had some warning signs earlier. You yourself picked up a few for us, Jer.”

“To expand on what Captain Pelatier has just said.” Aisdottir continued. “Once we knew where to look we found all the evidence we needed to be convinced he was indeed the source of the Klingons information in relation to the Venture. The investigation started by your revelation, Commander is the reason he was transferred.” She paused for a moment to let the information sink in.

“We only have two main questions as of now. Where is he and why did he do it? After he left the Venture he was tracked as far as Berlin. After that he simply disappeared without a trace. While that is not impossible, it is very hard to do. Intelligence officers receive months of training to be able to vanish as completely as he did.”

“As to why he did what we can prove he did. His profile suggests extreme antipathy to causing harm to another sentient being. It is considered highly unlikely he would have handed over information to anyone that would have caused physical harm to anyone. There has been some suggestion he was tricked into handing it over. However the only way we can find out is to ask him ourselves.” She paused to look over her notes on the PADD in front of her. Satisfied that she had covered everything important she looked at the Captain.

“Commander, Colonel, I believe this gives you answers to some questions you have been having recently. The most pressing question though is the one you asked a few minutes ago.” He looked straight at me. “Why are we telling you this?” I nodded, hoping for a good answer.

“We are telling you this because we have seen indicators that a minority of the Council and of Starfleet Admiralty are considering extra-legal means of accomplishing what they have so far been unable to do. Rid us of the Marine Corps, scrap the armament and re-training programs and turn the clock back 30 years.” I frowned at the suggestion.

“Do you know what they were planning on doing about the Klingons, sir? Last time I checked they didn't seem to interested in negotiating with us.”

“We have been sending them offers to negotiate an end to this war since before the Beta Scepri raid, XO. None have been answered with anything but a demand for our unconditional surrender. We think they are simply going to surrender.” My frown deepened as I thought about the possibility. “I'm sure you can imagine how bad that would be for the Federation. Section 31's main concern is to avoid that outcome. We cannot safeguard the founding principles of the Federation if we are under Klingon rule, XO.” I nodded, still deep in thought.

“What kind of extra legal means are you talking about, Captain?” Shari asked.

“We are not sure, Colonel. We can show you the indicators that have us worried and you can make your own decision about that. In essence we are worried about a repeat of the events of '72. Only on a larger scale.” He paused as Aisdottir continued.

“Do not confuse the people we are worried about with Counselor Grigorii, Colonel. The opposition is directly responsible for leaking the information to the Klingons. With the express purpose of killing as many Marines as they could. The possibility has been raised that they are ready to start using violent measures in direct support of their objectives. We have seen indications of cell structures developing among certain of their more violent groups. The Dominion war and the current conflict has pushed them towards the margins of our society that they were at the pinnacle of just twenty years ago. Desperate people do desperate things." I turned back to the Captain.

“I assume you are speaking of Admiral Leyton and his attempted coup, sir?”

“Yes. We are, XO.” His voice was deadly serious.

“When, sir?” Shari focused on me as the uncertainty disappeared from my voice.

“Unknown. The release of the video from Beta Scepri is believed to be the first step. A few weeks at least is the current thinking. We are hoping to nip this in the bud and have the regular security units round up the conspirators. There are already a couple people who are wanted for questioning. Counselor Grigorii among them.” He paused and looked at me and Shari for a moment before continuing.

“If our worst case scenarios come to pass the two of you will become vitally important for the Federations future. We can not let them ruin the Federation in a quixotic campaign to return us to a golden age that died with the Dominion War. That is what I believe. It is what motivates Lieutenant Commander Aisdottir. And we are certain you share both our view of the situation and our love for the Federation and its ideals.”

The Captains impassioned remarks struck a chord within me. Looking over at Shari, she gave me the slightest of nods. I straightened up a bit in my chair and turned to the Captain.

“You have our help, sir.”



“Welcome aboard Lieutenant Commander Delmonte. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The Captain stepped forward and shook the new Counselors hand as she stepped of the transporter pad. The slightly plump woman smiled brightly as she responded.

“Thank you Captain Pelatier. The pleasure is all mine.”

“Allow me introduce the rest of the command team.” She simply smiled a bit brighter and nodded. “This is Commander Jeremiah Sorenson. The executive officer.”

“Welcome aboard Commander Delmonte.” We also shook hands as she smiled up at me. Keeping a pleasant expression I watched as she greeted Sandra, Matt and Doctor Brown. When she got to Shari she preempted the Captains introduction.

“And this is Lieutenant Colonel Shari Nakhoda.” More than one face in the room showed surprise at that. “I have been looking forward to studying you and your Marines ever since I heard about the program, Colonel.” Shari smiled back as she shook the woman's hand.

“I'm sure we can help you with your studies, Commander Delmonte.” After that the Captain escorted the new Counselor to his ready room while the rest of us broke up and went to our duty stations.

Sandra and I made sure to hang back just enough to let the Captain and the Counselor have the turbo-lift to themselves. The Captain had wanted to talk to her in private for a while. Once a clear lift showed up we took it down to deck 8 and headed for our separate quarters. We then met back up outside the turbo-lift clad in our armor. While the suits were well taken care of, they were quite obviously not new anymore. The paint was not quite perfect any more. And my right arm had a noticeable dent in the gauntlet.

We stepped out of the turbo-lift next to one of the main holodecks. Waiting outside were our away-teams, armored up and ready to go.

“Ready for the exercise Lieutenant?” My team XO smiled up at me with her infectious grin.

“Yes, sir. I've been wanting to get a little payback since that trick yesterday with the charge on the warp core.” The rest of my team made various sounds of agreement. Sandra's team seemed just as enthusiastic about the exercise.

“Excellent. Start pre-op checks.” She snapped to attention to which I returned a nod. We checked each others armor and equipment as we had been taught by Top and her trainers. After the checks were done I opened up the holodeck and we stepped in.

Our more dangerous equipment was already there and we set about covering ourselves with various lethal devices. We did not have any near as much variety as the Marines did. But phasers, stun grenades and sidearms were lethal enough. With a smile I picked up the railgun Corporal Smith had built for me. It was neither as large or as powerful as the ones the Marines carried. But it was more than powerful enough for me.

Once we had picked out our equipment I activated my implant and called Shari. “Venture 5 to Sword 6. Venture 1 and 2 ready for exercise.”

“Understood Venture 5. Exercise will commence in five minutes.”

“Five minutes, roger. Venture 5 out.”

We stood around talking softly as we waited for the exercise to begin. Before the five minutes were up though an emergency call came through my armor, my implants and the holodeck speakers.

“Yellow alert. Yellow alert. Commander Sorenson and Lieutenant Commander Roland to the bridge immediately. Commander Sorenson and Lieutenant Commander Roland to the bridge Immediately.” Sandra and I looked at each other, slung our rifles on our back and started sprinting for the exit.

“Go to your battle stations, leave your gear on!” I yelled to our away-teams over my shoulder as we cleared the door and headed for the turbo-lift. Our teams were on our heels and scattered in different directions as soon as we got into the corridor outside the holodeck.

In the lift we both starred at the position indicator as if it could make us move faster. Yellow alert was a single step under battle stations for serious situations. Calling it in a secure orbit around Earth was unheard of. Racing through my mind was the thought that the Captain had been wrong about the timing.

We stepped out onto the bridge and headed for our positions. Sandra sat down at the ops console and I found my place next to the Captain. Our new Counselor was sitting to the Captains left. Her eyes wide as she took in the armor I and Sandra wore.

On the main view screen was a live news broadcast. I recognized Paris and the Federation Council building in the background. Smoke was rising from behind it and the reporter looked into the camera with a fearful expression.

“Again, there has been at least one explosion in the Council building. You can see the smoke rising behind me. We have had no word about the cause of the explosion yet. But it is believed that the Federation Council was to meet today to discuss the disturbing video released just last week of Federation Marines committing war crimes.”

Behind the reporter four Danube class shuttles descended from the sky. Three of them landed beyond the cameras line of sight. The one that was visible when it landed extended its landing legs and set down on the front entrance to the Council building. Doors on the side opened and Marines jumped out to take up positions blocking the entrance.

My eyes widened at the sight of the familiar armor being used in Paris. I looked over at the Captain who was quietly watching the screen with an angry frown. He looked over at me. “Get Colonel Nakhoda up here.”

“Yes, sir.” I plugged into the Marines net and sent Shari a priority message. Her response was quick and sure. I told the Captain she was on her way and went back to watching the screen myself.

Shari stepped out of the turbo-lift and walked down to stand next to the Counselor. She snapped to attention.

“Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda reporting, Captain.”

“Are those your Marines, Colonel?” He looked up at her and pointed at the screen.

Shari took a moment to study the figures on the screen before answering. “No, sir. That's our gear, but not our training. Whoever they are, they aren't a part of any unit I have heard of.”

---

Minor spelling fixes

---

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

I just watched Ship In A Bottle and I don't know what's real

I think Grigorii will find a way to redeem himself. He detests the Marines and wants them gone but I really doubt he'd agree as the opposition's methods. I think he'll try to make things right, somehow.

---

ASVS('97)/SDN('03)

"Peppercorn Tomatoes slathered in broken guacamole sauce. Put it in the microwave and press puree. 5 seconds in the dumpster and it is ready to be cooked in the freezer at -350 degrees for twenty minutes. Apply pressure in various hamster spots and scream like a psychotic banshee." My reply when asked what was on my mind.

By the sacred crotch of Arkvoodle!

Chapter 19

“We are still receiving highly conflicting reports of the violence that has erupted across Earth today. Official Starfleet and Federation information channels are reporting that the fighting erupted when a coup was attempted by certain Council members and Starfleet officers. The statement presented to us implied that the council members and officers in question were motivated by resistance to their plans for the prosecution of the war.” Behind the reporter the Federation Council building was wreathed in smoke from an earlier explosion.

“This information is contradicted by unofficial sources, who state that the coup attempt has been at least partially successful. There are also unconfirmed reports that the Starfleet Chief of Fleet Operation, Admiral John Fitzgerald, was killed in a bombing this morning. We do have full confirmation that it was a bomb and that the Admirals family was killed in the explosion. None of our sources have been able to confirm the Admirals status though. That explosion, outside the city of Portland in north America, seems to have been a signal to begin what can only be described as the blackest day in the long history of the Federation.” The haggard looking reporter paused for a moment before continuing. His normally professional demeanor was showing signs of shock from the unprecedented events unfolding behind him.

“There have been no reports, official or unofficial, on the status of the President or members of the inside the Council building at the time of the attempted coup. There are however confirmed reports of a number of Starfleet officers being killed in explosions across the planet today. Including inside the Council building you can see behind me.” On cue the camera zoomed in to give a close up of the smoke rising into the sky from a hole on the ground floor. People in Marine armor could be seen arrayed to stop any access to the center of the Federation government.

“Once again ladies and gentlemen. We ask that you all stay inside and await further updates on the situation. This is Marcus Walsh, live from Paris, signing off.” The main view screen changed to show a man and a woman sitting behind a desk, recapping what had just been said in the live news feed.

“Turn it off.” The Captain said in a disgusted tone. “XO, could you and Colonel Nakhoda join me in my ready room? Commander Roland has the con.” With that he stood up, and trailed by myself and Shari, walked over to his ready room.

The door closed behind us and we all sat down.

“I'm sorry for accusing your Marines of being involved in this, Colonel. I was just not expecting this to happen with so little warning.” Shari nodded her acceptance of his apology but said nothing. “Now we need to figure out what has happened and what we can do about it. I expect that if I turn my terminal on I will have a mass of messages. I'll deal with that in a moment. First I need the two of you to start working the problem.”

“Colonel, I need you to get your people prepped and ready for deployment. I want you to focus on non-lethal as far as you can. But since we have to assume the conspirators were the ones using your own armor down there I fear we won't be able to go completely in that direction.” Shari looked grim as she considered the prospect of firing on citizens of the Federation.

“No, sir. Our armor is highly resistant against every stun weapon in the Federation. If it comes down to it we won't even be able to use stun or flash grenades. The armor just negates their effect to much.” She sighed as she stood up. “I'll go get my people moving, sir.”

“One more thing, Colonel. Start contacting whoever you can and try to get some information about the actual state of affairs on the ground. Have Aisdottir do the same thing.”

“Yes, Captain.” She braced to attention, spun on her heel and walk out of the office.

“XO, I need you to quietly bring the ship up to battle readiness. Luckily we aren't pulled apart for upgrades or refit so you shouldn't have any major issues. Mostly I want you to get with Commander Sands and have the ship prepared as far as you can without anyone outside the ship figuring it out.”

“Yes, sir.” I stood up and braced to attention.

“And, XO. Leave your armor on.” I nodded sharply, turned around and left the room.



“We can do this, Commander. We will need to bring up a bunch of systems to readiness at once though, and we are a bit short on people at the moment.” Matt was leaning over the main schematic of the ship in engineering. His section leaders were clustered around as well making the large table almost crowded with people.

“I know, Matt. We have recalled the people on leave, but with the chaos in Earth we aren't expecting them all to arrive in time.”

“In time for what, Commander?” Lieutenant Rosen asked from across the table. He did not seem as unsure about my current appearance as some of the other engineers. I took this as a good sign.

“In time to do any good, Lieutenant.” I looked around at the faces of those gathered, trying to judge how they would react if the situation turned out to be as bad as it seemed to be. “Let me be perfectly candid with you all. Every single person on this ship is loyal to the Federation. I know that the vast majority of you have never thought of it, as you have never had any reason to doubt it. I am however afraid that today may test that loyalty in a way no one has experienced in a long time.”

The faces around me showed some understandable fear. The determination that dominated though gave me hope.

“We may be given orders before this situation has been resolved that we have never prepared for and are poorly prepared to handle. The Captain and I remember very clearly our oaths. We have sworn to defend the Federation from all enemies.” I paused and looked into the eyes of each person in the group. “Foreign and domestic. No matter what happens remember that the first thing that happened today was the detonation of a bomb that killed Admiral Fitzgerald and his entire family. Whomever planted that bomb is the clearest example of a threat to the Federation. No matter what, we will not side with the people behind such acts.”

People were nodding as they all looked at me. The fear I had seen earlier was being replaced by anger.

“Now, the reason the Captain doesn't want us making any changes that can be seen from the outside is that we simply don't know who is a part of this and who is innocent. And we are currently well within the engagement range of both units of Home Fleet and the planetary defense net. Should one of them turn out to be under the control of the conspirators we want as much time as we can get before they start shooting at us.” There were a few sharp inhalations as I finally admitted we might be fired upon by other Federation vessels, and fire upon them ourselves.

“If any of you or your men can not stand for that I would ask you to evacuate the ship. That decision is not something anybody else can make for you. I only ask that you wait until the situation stabilizes a bit.”

“We can do that, Commander Sorenson.” Lieutenant Rosen answered for everyone present. “We trust you and the Captain, sir. We will get the ship up and running without anyone outside knowing it. And if anyone is stupid enough to shoot at us, we'll show them why it's a bad idea, sir.”

The others standing around the table nodded in agreement with the Lieutenants words. I smiled at them and stepped back from the table.

“You have your orders gentlemen. Get to it.” The group broke up as they all returned to their sections to prepare the Venture for combat against an enemy no one on the ship wanted to face. Our own people.

“Commander Sorenson to the bridge conference room.” The cool, calm voice of the ships computer said over my implant. It must have been waiting for the meeting to break up. I turned away from where Matt was discussing something deeply technical with one of his people and headed towards the nearest turbo-lift.

“Computer, who am I meeting with?” I asked as the turbo-lift's doors closed and I was alone.

“Captain Pelatier, Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda and one unknown individual.”

“Unknown? Define.” Having the ships computer unaware of someones identity was almost unheard of.

“The individuals identity has been erased from the ships memory and I have a block preventing me from ascertaining their identity without a direct order from Captain Pelatier.”

I remained silent in thought the rest of the way to the conference room in question. I would find out what was going on once I got there. Avoiding the bridge I stepped out of the turbo-lift on the level below and walked up the stairs connecting the levels. Looking at the time I marveled that it had been less than an hour since the first report had reached the ship.

Standing outside the conference room were two Marines. I recognized them as Privates from Aisdottir's squad. They were in full armor with all of their personal weapons. As I approached they snapped to attention and keyed the door open for me. I acknowledged them as I stepped past them.

I was lucky I had cleared the door when I saw who was in the room. When I recognized the unknown person I froze for an instant before snapping to attention.

“At ease and have a seat, Commander Sorenson.” Admiral Fitzgerald said with a wave of his hand. I moved my rifle back around to the front and pulled out a chair to sit in. The Admiral looked worse than I had ever seen him. His eyes were swollen and red. His hair was clearly singed and I saw numerous white patches of bandages across his neck.

“I'm sorry for the lack of warning, XO. The Admiral thought it would be best if as few people as possible knew he was on the ship.” The Captain explained. I nodded my understanding and focused my attention on the Admiral.

“I thought you were dead, sir. How did you get here?” He shook his head sadly as he meet my eyes.

“I almost was, Commander. The bastards did manage to kill my wife and son though.” The pain that filled his voice at that was enough to twist my heart in sympathy. He shook his head and anger displaced some of the pain. “We were going away for the weekend. Jasper had forgotten something in the house. I went back to get it. All I came back to was a smoking crater.”

His voice broke at the end. He screwed his eyes closed for a moment as the emotions threatened to take over completely. We waited silently as he fought down the grief before it took over completely. I did not envy what he would be going through over the next few days and weeks. He drew a deep breath and opened his eyes. While the grief was still strong, anger had begun to take over.

“My apologies. I will have time to grieve after all this is done. At the moment I am only holding together so I can get the people responsible for what happened. And if I am to do that I need your help.” He looked at each of us in turn, his eyes hard.

“Of course we will help, sir. What can we do?” The Captain said. Shari and I nodded in agreement.

“We are going to start by talking to some friends of yours Captain. Once we have a clear picture of the extent of the organization behind this we are going to send down the Colonel and her people to capture everyone involved and hand them over to a magistrate. However, in order to do that I need access to Section 31 and its intelligence reports on whomever did this.” Shari and I looked over at the Captain. He did not react to the Admirals comment noticeably, though I sensed some slight surprise. The silence stretched out as the Captain and the Admiral looked at each other. After a moment the Captain leaned back in his chair and responded to the Admiral.

“I thought that was why you chose this ship, Admiral.” The Captain said as he broke the silence. Admiral Fitzgerald nodded.

“And it was where the operatives who pulled me out of my home sent me. Section 31 is not a particularly closely held secret at my level of Starfleet, Captain. We do not interfere with it's operations as long as they stick to their mandate, and we call the head of the Section in to give reports on a regular basis. Section 31 holds a unique place in the Federation. But it is part of the Federation. Now, can you get them here or not?”

“Yes, sir.”



“In conclusion, Admiral, the two factions involved in the current situation are currently cooperating. We do not expect that to hold under any post coup consolidation period. Though it seems strong enough at the moment to ensure their coordination during the critical phases of the coup.” The Lieutenant Commander, who had been beamed up to the ship within a few minutes of the Captain sending the request, paused for a moment to wait for questions.

“I thought you said they had effectively identical goals, Commander Bessent.” The Admiral interjected.

“Yes, sir. Their primary difference is in how they achieve those goals. The Idealists believe that their perceived ideals must be upheld at all times. The Extremists are prepared to use whatever means available to reach them.” The Commander glanced quickly at the Admiral before continuing.

“I believe their actions these past few hours have shown that they are capable of using methods that would have in the past been considered unacceptable.” The Admirals eyes narrowed.

“Unacceptable methods. Well that's one way of putting it.” He held up his hand to forestall the Commanders apologies. “I did not mean that as an attack on you, Commander. I just could not see Starfleet personnel doing what has been done this morning.” He shook his head as the room went silent.

“Commander, do we have any idea of the identities of the people behind these attacks?” I asked after a moment. Across the table the Admiral pulled out a PADD and started working on something.

“Yes, sir. With hindsight we have been able to identify several dozen people who are actively involved with the coup. We believe we know who the top people of each faction are and where they are at the moment.”

The Commander continued to outline what was known about who was involved. Hearing that Admiral Angotti, the chief of staff for Starfleet was involved was surprising to me. The Admiral had seemed to be an honorable man. Of course so had Sergeii once. The picture we got from the Commander was bleak indeed. Not only were several members of Starfleet command implicated. More than a dozen Councilors were known to be associated with the conspirators as well.

As the list of people known and suspected to be traitors grew I simply shook my head. I was finding it hard to believe that so many people could have turned without warning.

When I expressed it to Lieutenant Commander Bessent he took a deep breath and explained. “Commander, these groups are not new. They started showing up on the scene just after the post Dominion war reorganization. Certain officers and public figures of the time thought that the fleet and squadron organization was something that should only be used in time of war and that Starfleet should go back to operating it's ships solo.”

“I've met a few officers of the sort in my career. They all seem to end up on shore duty.” The commander nodded at my observation.

“The people who objected to strongly found their careers coming to a halt. Normally objections of this sort would have died out in a few years, as the officers who expressed them found themselves pushed aside to less important and career enhancing stations. However, the other changes made to doctrine, training and equipment over the last couple years have kept the objections going. Remember they are not objecting on practical, but on philosophic and ideological reasons. When certain individuals caught wind of the Marine a few years ago they started doing everything they could to stop it. It has since become obvious that they set certain other plans in motion at the same time. Plans that lead to today.”

“And plans that are going to put every one of them in a confinement facility for the rest of their lives.” The Admiral looked up from the PADD he had been studying for the past few minutes. “Lieutenant Commander Bessent, thank you for the briefing. I would like you to stay on the ship for when we have more questions for you.” The Commander sat up a bit straighter as the Admirals tone registered. It was not only far more certain than it had been when I had first meet him today. It was a tone that held a glimmer of hope. “Colonel Nakhoda, I assume your people are ready?”

“Yes, sir.” She answered. “Everyone is in armor and weapons have been drawn. Both lethal and less lethal. Lieutenant Commander Grooves has her shuttles loaded and ready to drop in 5 minutes. We just need the word and we will take back both the Council building and Starfleet HQ, sir.” I found myself feeling as eager as Shari sounded.

“That's good, Colonel. But you aren't doing that drop until we have taken care of one little thing first. If you just do the drop there is nothing stopping them from beaming out and causing more troubles in the future. Up to and including fermenting a civil war. So our first step is to stop that from happening.” He tapped his PADD and a schematic came up on the wall mounted screen. “Our first step is this. The Citadel, the primary planetary defense command and control facility.”



“Are we really going to attack The Citadel, sir?” I looked at Lieutenant Rooney as she asked her quiet question. Around us in the transporter room, my away-team and our Marine escorts were checking their gear and taking care of any last minute problems before we beamed down to the surface.

“No, Lieutenant. We are going to escort the Admiral while he deals with some issues down there. We aren't planning on firing a single shot. Besides, while The Citadel has a substantial reputation, it is not entirely deserving of it. It was only authorized a year before we got Marines, and all the systems are not up and running yet. The system we want is online. Security and orbital defenses are not fully online yet. A few little tidbits of information the Admiral had for us. Apparently something passive like a transport denial system is easy to get authorization for. Weapons and armed guards are not. So even if we had to do an all out assault, they probably couldn't stop us.” She still looked a bit unhappy as she glanced around the room at the armored figures who certainly seemed to be getting ready for an assault. “Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. Even if we were going to do an assault we wouldn't call ahead for permission to beam down. Now would we?”

“No we wouldn't, Commander Sorenson.” Lieutenant Rooney snapped to attention as Admiral Fitzgerald stepped through the door followed by another armored fire-team and a tall Marine out of his armor. The short haircut was a bit of a give away. Everyone in the room followed the Lieutenants example before the Admiral waved a hand impatiently and called for everyone to be at ease. The Admiral and Private Jobrani were the only people in the room not wearing armor. Though they both had phasers on their hips. Private Jobrani was a fairly harmless looking Marine wearing an operations uniform and would be posing as the Admirals aide while actually being his bodyguard.

“Ladies and gentlemen. In a moment we are going to beam down to the Earths surface and take the first steps in ensuring the Federation is not corrupted by well willing traitors. You have all seen the news reports of the last few hours. Bombings, people shot 'while resisting arrest'. Many men and women I know are missing right now, more still are dead. This is what will be our future if we should fail. Our leaders being more interested in appearance than substance. More focused on appearing good than being good.” The room was quiet as we listened to the Admiral.

“Luckily they have severely miscalculated, their control of the system is far weaker than they must have planned or we would have seen them come after this ship already. Despite this I am afraid we cannot simply wait them out. They control to much of the Federation Council and Starfleet command. Given enough time they will simply be able to declare themselves legal and the Federation as we know it will be gone. I have fought for the Federation for my entire life and I will not let them destroy it in their vain search for a golden age long gone.” He stopped talking as he looked around the crowded room. Taking the time to meet each and every gaze.

Our eyes meet. “Are your people briefed and ready, Commander?”

“Yes, sir.” He smiled at me as he nodded.

“Then let's get this done.” The Admiral stepped over to the transport pad as helmets were donned and weapons were given their final checks. His escort following and arraying themselves so they could protect him if anything went wrong when they beamed down. One of my people stepped up to the pad next to the Admiral. Crewman 1st class Asem. Though I had worked with him extensively over the past few weeks, he had yet to fully replace Monaldi on the team. Asem was however one of the best transport techs I had ever meet.

The Admiral looked at the Chief in charge of the room. “Chief Steihlman. Please tell the bridge we are ready to beam down.”

The Chief nodded and spoke a few quiet words into his com badge. A moment later he got a response. He gave the Admiral a thumbs up sign and tapped a control on his console. The Admiral and his escorts vanished in a flare of light. Lieutenant Martins and I stepped up to the pad while the system was resetting. We were joined by a fire team of Marines who again placed themselves between us and any threat that might be on the other side.

The Chief looked up at us. “Systems reset. Sending you now, sirs.” The world flared in light around me. When the light faded I stepped calmly but quickly off the platform to clear the way for the others that would follow shortly. Asem looked up from behind the console he had taken over and gave me a thumbs up before he went back to ensuring we got everyone down from the ship. The room we were in was far larger than we could have had back on the ship. It seemed to handle cargo as well as personnel, as a portion of the far wall was hidden behind large cargo containers.

The former transport tech, as well as several of the bases senior officers were huddled against that same wall with two Marines watching them through blank mirrored visors. They seemed to be in quite a bit of shock as more and more heavily armored Marines appeared on the transport pad. I stepped over to the Admiral.

“My people will be here shortly, sir. If there is any trouble, please try to get behind someone in armor. I can't help but feel you are horribly exposed, sir.” I gestured at the armor and railgun I was wearing that contrasted strongly with his simple duty uniform and holstered phaser.

“Don't worry, Commander, I remember the plan. But I can't walk in there in armor and expect them to do what we want.” Lieutenant Martins cleared his throat politely.

“We understand, Admiral. But we don't have to like it. If everything goes wrong in there, let Private Jobrani take the lead. He will keep you safe until we can get to you. We can have the room breached and cleared in seconds. You just have to survive long enough for us to reach you.” The Admiral smiled at our quiet concern.

“Don't worry gentlemen. I have no plans to die today. I have far to much to do.” We nodded our acceptance of the way it had to be. If someone got suspicious enough to transmit the lock down codes to the transport denial substations our plans would be out the airlock before we even started. It was in fact the reason we had only brought along one platoon for this. The other two were ready to drop with a moments notice. The conspirators could not be allowed to escape and ferment more treason. Enough people had died already.

The rest of my away-team joined us and we set of for the command center. We had beamed down to the same sub-level the central command room was in. The Admirals codes had alerted the base that an unidentified high ranking Admiral was on their way for an urgent matter. The base commander had obviously been expecting a visit from an Admiral he needed to impress, considering the officers we had captured in the transport room. Grabbing the Operations Officer and head of Security within the first few seconds had been a stroke of luck. As we left the room the systems and consoles were sabotaged and the prisoners were brought with us.

We turned the last corner to the final layer of security before the main command center. The leading fire-team sprinted forward and took down the two guards before they could sound any alarms. The rest of us stayed behind the last corner while the Admiral followed the fire-team to the thick armored door.

“I can't believe they haven't even installed audio-visual pickups in here.” Lieutenant Martins said more to him self than as a serious comment. His coms were linked to mine though so I answered in a distracted tone as I checked the position of my team.

“Why should they? You can't get this far without the right codes or breaching the security perimeter.” I looked over at the Lieutenant who looked back at me through our cleared visors. “To bad for them we have the codes.” We shared a quick grin before returning to what was happening around us.

The Marines took up positions next to the door leading into the room and quickly affixed breaching charges to the walls on either side. Once finished they gave the Admiral a thumbs up and fell back around the corner to where the rest of us were hiding, dragging the two tied up, bruised and shocked guards with them.

The Admiral stepped over to the access panel with Private Jobrani a half step behind and pressed the admittance button. The door whisked open and they stepped inside. Cutting of our view of them as the door closed in their wake. I shifted my attention to the limited feed we were getting from the Privates implants. We could only receive simple text messages from the private without his armor.

***HAVE ENTERED CONTROL ROOM***
***HAVE MADE CONTACT WITH CO***
***XO SUSPISCOUS OF ADMIRAL***
***ADMIRAL MOVING TO PRIMARY***
***XO MENTIONED CALLING CO FOR CONFIRMATION***

While Lieutenant Martins and I stood back around the corner and focused on what little information we were getting from the Private. Gunny Omma was up with half of the Platoon as close as they could get to the explosive breaching charges. If everything went as planned we would simply open the door and the Platoon would secure everyone in the room.

If the plan went to hell holes would be blown in the walls and the Marines would force themselves into the room behind stun grenades and phasers.

In the first instance we expected no casualties.

In the second we expected heavy casualties. Among the people inside the room.

***ADMIRAL IS AT PRIMARY***
***ADMIRAL HAS ORDERED XO OUT OF ROOM***
***CO STILL IN ROOM***
***ADMIRAL ENTERING CODES***
***SOFT ENTRY IN 20 SEC***

I saw Lieutenant Martins helmet nod just before a countdown timer came to life on my HUD. I turned back to my team again and made a quick check that they were all in their places. Satisfied I looked back to Gunny Omma and her people. They had stacked up against the door to the central control room ready to flood the room with armored Marines once the countdown hit 0.

***CODES ENTERED***
***CO SUBDUED***
***BREACH BREACH BREACH***

The countdown hit 0.

A Marine hit the access panel and the doors whisked open. The Marines charged through the open door, the only sound was the gasps of surprise from the people inside and the sound of the Marines boots on the deck.

The Lieutenant and I waited around the corner as another squad of Marines went around the corner to reinforce the Marines in the control room who were already moving the officers in the room to a corner as far away from any entry point or console they could get them.. We didn't expect them to be needed, but Lieutenant Martins was not the kind of officer who believed in 'good enough' or 'just enough'.

By the time he and I stepped through the door to the control room with most of our remaining people spread out behind us, every person in the room had been secured and herded into a corner of the room. The Commander of The Citadel was just being escorted out of the secure access room as we entered. She was a surprisingly tall, striking woman, with bright blond hair cut shorter than some of the Marines around me. With no threats in the immediate future and surrounded by so many Marines I felt safe enough to remove my helmet as a courtesy as I signaled the Marines escorting her to hold up. She still seemed groggy from being stunned by Private Jobrani, but stood unassisted when the Private escorting her let go of her arm. Gunny Omma came over and stood next to me as I addressed the Captain.

“Captain Holcombe. I am Commander Sorenson of the USS Venture. I am afraid that you and your people will have to be our guests for a while. We will do everything we can to make the time as comfortable as possible. But we must insist you all follow our directions, or we will be forced to restrain and sedate you.”

“What the hell are you playing at here, Sorenson? This is treason.”

“No Captain. What is going on elsewhere is treason. We are here to make sure it does not prosper. I assume you have heard of the bombings and attacks a few hours ago?”

“Of course I have. It was caused by these people you are surrounded by.” Her face twisted in a snarl. “Marines. They should have been called the SS.”

She then spit in my face. I took a couple steps back in shock while the Private who had been taking her to the other prisoners slapped her in the side of her head with an unyielding armored hand. The blow knocked her to the ground, where she stayed as the Private was thrown back against the wall by his fire-team leader. They were on a private circuit, but I could still hear the furious Corporal through his helmet as I wiped the spittle from my face.

“Your wrong, Captain. The Marines are the only ones that stand between the Federation and destruction. Whether the destruction comes from within or without matters little to them.” She looked up at me with hate filled eyes as she finally understood what we were planning to do.

The Captain was still on all fours, glaring up at me as blood dripped from a small gash on the side of her head when the Admiral and Lieutenant Martins came out of the secure room. With the two Marines who had been escorting her distracted and the rest of the room tending to their own duties the Gunny and I were the only ones who saw her reaction.

She looked up at them and froze for the barest of moments. She then reached into her uniform and pulled out a tiny, easily concealed class one phaser.

“Weapon!” I yelled as I dropped my helmet, grasped my railgun that had been hanging against my chest and snapped it around to point at her. Next to me Gunny Omma reached behind her back for her own weapon. I then did something that haunted me for a long time thereafter, I hesitated, giving her enough time to fire. The golden cored beam of her weapon lanced across the room striking Admiral Fitzgerald in the chest less than a second before a burst of high velocity darts from the Gunnery Sergeant Omma's railgun tore the life from her body. The floor beneath and around her was splashed with blood as a half dozen holes appeared in her back and much larger ones on the front of her chest. She did not have time to cry out or move as her heart and lungs were torn to shreds by the small lethal slivers of metal the gunny had fired. She simply dropped to the ground in a heap. Her blood flowing out into a spreading puddle beneath her.

The room around us had erupted in chaos at the shots. The Gunny kicked the Captain harshly in her ribs, flipping her over on her back. The Captain was clearly dead, her eyes still open, but utterly lifeless. More Marines descended on her and ignoring her shredded chest flipped her back on her face as they applied restraints to her hands and feet before searching her thoroughly.

As I turned away from the dead Captain I glanced over to the corner where the other prisoners were being thoroughly searched as well and then getting restraints placed on their wrists. They were then laid out face down on the cold floor with weapons aimed at them.

I quickly walked over to the people standing and kneeling around the Admiral. His uniform had been cut of from his upper body and the small, deep wound of a phaser was obvious on the right side of his of his chest. Despite the obvious cauterization of the wound, blood had flowed freely from it. The Admiral was pale and still as Ensign Tian's hands flew over him, working hard to save his life.

“We have to get him to the ship now! Get him on the strecher.” The Ensign's voice was firm and strong despite him never taking his eyes away from the Admiral or letting his hands slow in their work.

“We can't, Ensign. All transports within a lightsecond of here are blocked.” Lieutenant Martins had cleared his visor and looked sadly at the scene in front of him. “The Admiral activated the system before we entered the room.” I motioned for Chief Jones to give me her medical tricorder as the Ensign kept working on the Admiral. The readout on Jones tricorder told the tale I was expecting. There was no brain activity. Admiral Fitzgerald was dead.

I handed the tricorder back to Chief Jones and shock my head at Lieutenant Martins. The Lieutenant looked down at the Admiral as the Ensign rocked back on his heals and gave the rest of the room the news.

“He's dead.” The room went quiet for a long moment as we all digested the news.

“Are the codes entered?” I asked the Lieutenant. Everyone in the room looked around to me as I interrupted their thoughts.

“Yes, sir. Entered and verified. Every substation has returned confirmation and the systems here verify it. The lock down codes have also been transmitted. The only way it can be turned of once we blow the charges is by capturing every substation individually and shutting them down locally.” I nodded in grim satisfaction at the news.

“Very well, Lieutenant. Set the charges and begin the evacuation.” I turned to Ensign Rooney. Have Campbell contact the Venture. Give them and update and get the shuttle headed this way.”

Everyone started moving then. The Admiral and Captain Holcombes bodies were loaded in bags for transport. The prisoners were lifted to their feet and prepared to move out. The Marines started moving out of the room and taking control of our main exit route. After the charges had been set and everyone had left the room, the doors were locked and as an extra point Corporal Muntz pulled a can out of a pocket on his armor and sprayed a message on the door. “This room is going to blow up. Stay out!”

“We don't want anyone to come in by accident, do we, sir?” He grinned at me through his visor as we headed off down the corridor.

We only had a couple levels and a few hundred meters between us and the service exit we were heading for. With some luck we could avoid a pitched battle with the security forces that must have been alerted by now to what was going on in the facility. Luck was with us as we managed to evade the bulk of the security forces. Not that we managed to avoid a fight all together however.

The corridor around the last corner lit up in reflected light as a few phaser beams from the security forces came around the corner to strike the wall. Contact reports came in over the communication channels as we halted in the last cross corridor. We saw the stroboscopic flashes of the Marines returning fire. I hoped that they had all remembered to set their weapons to stun. More people had died today than I had hoped, and I did not want anyone else to die if it could be helped.

“All clear. No casualties.” was heard over the all hands channel and we moved up. The Lieutenant and I stopped by where it appeared a half dozen security guards had tried to stop us from getting out. A few stun grenades and a couple dozen bolts from underpowered phasers had knocked them unconscious within seconds. Our Medical personnel checked them all out as we herded the rest of the captives into the room.

“Leave the prisoners and the Captain here. We need to hurry. Commander Grooves is four minutes out.” Gunny Omma nodded at Lieutenant Martins orders and started giving orders of her own. The doors leading back into the facility were sealed, the prisoners were placed against a wall and we moved out into the tunnel that would lead us to the surface.

We came to the last door. A thick blast door that protected the facility from unauthorized entry. The clearly marked opening system for emergencies showed that it was not so good at stopping unauthorized exits. The door was opened and the area beyond was clear of security. A quick look up showed us why no sane person would hang around.

Lieutenant Commander Grooves and her four assault shuttles hung over the courtyard outside with their weapons trained away from the entrance. A thin wisp of smoke was still rising from a trench in the access road that showed were someone had had a moment of insanity. The first shuttle landed and loaded up with its load of Marines while the rest of the Marines and shuttles watched over the loading. The Admirals body was gently loaded into the shuttle as well.

I got into the third shuttle with my away-team and a squad of Marines. Squeezing between the rows of people I made my way to the flightdeck. By the time I got there The last Marines were loading up. With everyone loaded, I watched the rear ramp close up and the shuttle leap into the sky. Our shuttle pointed its nose to the sky and followed it up.



“We continue with the plan. The Admirals death does not change that. It only makes the situation afterward more complicated. Colonel Nakhoda has assured me that we should still be able to achieve enough surprise locally to overwhelm the expected opposition on the ground. You will drop as soon as this briefing is concluded. We have no way of knowing what the oppositions next move is going to be and I would like to preempt it if at all possible. Are there any immediate questions before we go over the plan?” The Captain stood before the conference table and looked at everyone gathered, one at a time.

Shari and her Lieutenants were seated along with the entire command staff of the Venture. Even Lieutenant Commander Delmonte had showed up and refused to leave. Stating only that. “The people who started this are not the Federation. You are, and I know where my loyalties lay.”

Aisdottir and the Section 31 briefer Commander Bessent was also there to lend their expertise to the planning that had been underway while 1st Platoon and my team had been down on the planet. No questions were asked and the Captain nodded in satisfaction. He called up a schematic of the Council building and pointed to a room near the top of the structure.

“This is our primary objective. The office of the President. We need to get him and any Council members safe to be able to end this. It is the most heavily protected office on the planet and.” He was interrupted by Lieutenant Swansons voice over the ship wide announcement system from the bridge.

“Captain to the bridge immediately. Captain to the bridge immediately.” At the same time the red alert warning started up, washing the room in a flashing red light and the ships computer telling everyone to report to battle stations.

“No time to waste people. Get to your stations at once. Colonel Nakhoda. Have your people load in the shuttles and prepare to drop on zero warning.” A chorus of affirmations came back to the Captain as we left the room for the bridge.

“What's going on, Lieutenant?” The Captain asked as soon as we entered the bridge.

“Message from the USS Defender, sir.” Defender was the flag ship of Home Fleet. It might be one of the smaller Fleets, but it was still far larger than a single Galaxy class starship. The main view screen lit up with the image of Vice Admiral Ayla Mirza. The Commander of Home Fleet was a slim, dark woman with a reputation of competence.

“USS Venture. You are directed to stand down and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be answered with lethal force. You have five minutes to comply.” The Captains eyes narrowed as the screen turned back to a view of the system. Admiral Mirza was obviously not interested in discussing her demands. I turned to the Captain.

“Well at least we know what they are going to do next now.”

---

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

“I think they are expecting us to fight, Captain. Planetary traffic control is sending out an emergency scatter order. All civilian ships are being ordered to remain no closer to the sun than the orbit of Mars until the all clear is transmitted. We have also been locked out from the interstellar relay net. We can't talk to anyone outside our own range.” Sandra reported from her place at the operations console.

“Concur, sir. All civilian ships are lighting off their drives and are headed outsystem at what appears to be each ships best possible speed. We are also reading a lot of warp jumps. The computer is having a hard time getting a count, but it appears to be at least a few hundred every minute sir. Almost exclusively outbound. Every inboud we track turns back within seconds of their arrival.” Lieutenant Swanson never looked up from her console as she gave the report. She was too focused on her job to do anything else.

“What about Home Fleet, Lieutenant Swanson?” The Captain asked as he leaned back in his chair. His calm demeanor might have been faked, in fact I knew it was, but it still helped to keep the rest of the bridge crew calm and focused.

“Nothing, sir. They haven't even brought up their drives or shields yet, sir. Of course their nearest units are twelve thousand kilometers away. They would have plenty of time to bring their shields up if we tried anything.”

“Location of USS Defender?” I heard the Lieutenant tap a few controls as the main view screen changed from showing hundreds and thousands of ships fleeing the impending battle to a schematic of the Earth – Moon system. A group of icons came to life near the moon at the L1 point between the two celestial bodies. Another tap of a control and the icons were named. The USS Defender was in the middle of the group, surrounded by three squadrons of ships.

Other icons came to life on the display. Green civilians fleeing in an ever expanding cloud. The Yellow blobs of orbital industry and habitats. Everything from tiny communications satellites to massive shipyards. A rash of red Home Fleet ships clustered around Earth and the Moon, anchored in space to the Lagrange points. Protecting humanity’s home world from those who would do her harm. Lastly a single, lonely blue symbol sat in its polar orbit and represented the Venture.

“Status change.” Marie reported. One of the squadrons at the L5 point broke off from the rest and started heading for the Earth and us. They would intercept us within the next few minutes unless something was done.

“XO, alert engineering to be ready to bring us the rest of the way up to full combat readiness on my command. Tactical, start assigning threat values and targeting priorities for the oncoming ships. Ops, get me a secure channel to the commanders of the 15th, 28th and 63rd squadrons. Helm, lay in an evasion course that will take us to minimum safe distance for warp out.”

As each of us got our orders we went to work carrying them out. Matt was down in engineering and was already standing by to bring the ship all the way up. Everything that could be done without it being seen on an external sensor had already been done. For most systems all we had left to do was throw the breakers and feed them power. Some, like the warp core needed to be handled with far more care than that if we didn't want the ship to turn into an expanding cloud of highly energetic plasma.

The approaching squadron was on the other side of the planet from us and they would have to at the very least clear the horizon before they could fire upon us. Giving us a small measure of time to decide what we were going to do about it. As I studied the tactical situation we had found us in I hoped the Captain had more tricks up his sleeve. We could not hope to win against the full squadron of Intrepids that were on their way. Especially if the large capital ships with the USS Defender interfered. Or one of the two squadrons of Sovereigns in orbit around Earth with us. If our old Defiant consorts had still been with us we could probably have taken the Intrepids in a standup fight. We would have been hurt bad, but we would probably have won. Unfortunately Gauntlet, Myrmidon and their sisters were with 6th fleet at the moment. The only thing I could think of was to do as the Captain was obviously planning. The thought of running away now was enough to turn my stomach. Not that we had any choice before three new images flashed to life on the main view screen.

It was the commanders of the squadrons the Captain had wanted to speak to.

“Gentlemen.” The Captain began. “You all know what is going on down on Earth. You all know what will happen if this is allowed to continue. We have spoken of this before, but I must have your answers now.”

There was no hesitation from the Andorian Commodore of the 28th squadron. “My squadron is on your side, Captain Pelatier.” A set of red icons around the moon changed color to blue and started heading towards Earth. Angling out to stay clear of the Defender and her consorts.

“Thank you, Commodore sh'Resia. Commodore T'Sai, Commodore Rhyne?” Captain Pelatier looked at the other two officers on the screen.

“You know me, Captain. I've never been one to back down. The 63rd is on it's way to you now, Captain.” Another set of red changed to blue. This time it was in orbit around Earth. I took a deep breath as the closest Home Fleet squadron came over to our side and started moving to support us. That left only Commodore T'Sai and her 15th squadron.

“I will support you, Captain. If you can answer one question first.” Commodore T'Sai's calm unhurried tone bellied the situation we were in. “What is your intention?”

The Captain didn't hesitate. “To uphold and defend the Charter of the Federation from all enemies, foreign and domestic.” The moment stretched out as the Captain and Commodore starred at each other.

“That was the only answer I would have accepted, Captain. You have the support of the 15th squadron. I must warn you however that even though our orders are illegal,
it is better to do nothing than to cause more havoc. Most of Home Fleet does not share our conviction of the danger of the situation. They will not interfere as long as we do nothing to threaten the planet. Anyone who does threaten the planet though will have the other eight squadrons and the deployed fleets hunting them.”

“You and your ships will be most welcome, Commodore. Further I can assure you, and the rest of Home Fleet, that we have no intention of threatening the planet. We are doing this for the people on the planet.”

“I know, Captain. We will be there shortly. Hold what you have as long as you can.

“We will, Commodore.” He turned to the screen with Commodore Rhyne. We are going to need your help when the 48th crests the planet Commodore.”

“We will be at your position in less than five minutes, Captain. I think Commodore Adiga is going to think once or twice before he takes a squadron of Intrepids to fight a squadron of Sovereigns.”

“Status change.” On the screen the squadron of Intrepids that had been heading towards us were rabidly changing their course away from Earth. They would meet up with the three battle squadrons under Vice Admiral Mirza in about fifteen minutes. Within thirty minutes after that twenty four Sovereigns and eight Intrepids would be within range to engage us without endangering the planet. At that point the squadrons coming to our rescue would have formed up with us. Sixteen Sovereigns, eight of the new Eyrie class carriers and one old, but still powerful Galaxy.

It was going to be a fair fight. My experiences in the Dominion War, reinforced by recent events had led me to believe that fair fights are what happens when something goes wrong. Which was a good way of describing the day.

“No sense hiding our intentions anymore, XO. Bring the ship up to full combat readiness.”

“Aye, sir.” I responded before activating the console in my chair and got to work.

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of orders and issues to be dealt with. Sandra had taken over all the little issues on board the ship so I could focus on the details of what was going on outside. Both of the Sovereign squadrons had meet up with us quickly. And Commodore T'Sai had sent her wings of Peregrine fighters ahead of her much slower carriers, giving us a much needed boost to our combat power. Hopefully the mass of small, nimble fighters would help us survive against the raw combat power of the oncoming battle squadrons. The Captains plan for using them certainly had the potential of shifting the odds to our side.

Organizing a functional tactical data net between twenty five ships and well over two hundred fighters in forty minutes was not the easiest thing I had ever done. It was really something that should have been done far in advance. As it was I and other officers all across the improvised task group managed to get it to work. Mostly.

In the vast amounts of free time I had left over I conferred with the Captain as we drew up plans. Not that we could do very much planning for what was to come. We couldn't really maneuver, we couldn't trick them. All we could do was hope we were the last people standing.

We briefly discussed launching the Marines now and trying to buy them enough time to get to the President and the Councilors. We concluded that there was no point. If we could not control the orbitals, it would not matter if we controlled the Council building. They gained too many options. Everything from sending down security forces of their own to dropping kinetic strikes. We had to control the Earths orbital space.

Orbital space that was by now almost empty of civilian shipping. The remaining neutral Starfleet vessels in orbit maneuvered around so that they would be in a position to protect the planet without threatening either side in coming battle. They would not be helping either though. The conspirators propaganda was just too effective for us to convince enough people that we were the good guys.

The best we could hope for was that we would not have to kill many people.

It was not a hope I expected to fulfill.

“We will be in range in two minutes, Captain.” Sandra's eyes never left the information flowing across her displays as she made her report.

“Good hunting, Captain.” Commodore Rhyne said from his small segment of the main view screen. While all three Commodores were more senior than the Captain, as a sign of just how respected the Captain was, they had handed him the role of Admiral for the coming battle.

“All units. Engage as planned.” The Captains words were not the rousing call to battle later historians might have hoped for. They were however enough to start the Battle for Earth.

Our fighters darted forward, above and below our formation as they went ahead of the rest of our ships. As the fighters started taking fire, and casualties, they arced inwards. Diving for the very center of the enemy formation. Our heavy ships focused everything they had in the area, doing everything they could to distract from the small, fragile fighters. The range was too long for fully accurate fire, so we filled as much of space as we could with the glowing streaks of torpedoes and the bright golden lances of phasers.

Fireballs blossomed in space as fighters died. On the screen icons of entire flights of fighters flashed as they punched straight into the fire of three squadrons of capitol ships. They did not die alone however. Their attacks showed a coordination and finesse that could only come from long hours of training. Entire flights timed their salvos to arrive on the enemies shields at the same time. No matter how big or well protected a ship might be. Getting hit by several dozen beams and antimatter warheads was going to let something through. Something like the heavy photon torpedoes each fighter carried. Launched with exquisite timing to arrive so that they had the best chance to bypass shields already strained from the rest of their ordnance.

The USS Suleiman was destroyed in a flash of white as a heavy torpedo slipped past her shields and detonated in contact with her hull, causing her warp core to go critical and turning three and a quarter million tones and 863 people into expanding vapor. Several others staggered as the tiny fighters poured fire into them. Ripping into hulls, blasting away surface installations and venting their atmosphere into space.

With their initial strike complete, and their heavy ordnance used up, the fighters went into a series of twisting, evasive maneuvers straight through the heart of their enemies formation. More of them died in brief flares as a beam would lance out or a terminally unlucky fighter would run into a torpedo. Less were dying though as our own heavy squadrons had gotten close enough to demand the enemy Sovereigns attention.

The sacrifices of the fighters had paid off as confusion reigned within the massed Sovereigns and Intrepids. Their fire was less controlled, their defenses more open than at the start of the battle. Our heavy ships struck with two massive blows. We had avoided the temptation of trying for perfect coordination between our squadrons. Instead we let them fight as the units they had trained hard to become.

Both scratch-built taskgroups hurled themselves through space at one another. The distance dropping with a speed that would have been awe inspiring without the experience and training to make it an every day, every training simulation occurrence.

The Sovereign class ship was the most powerful unit the Federation had ever deployed. Seven hundred meters of heavily armed and armored starship with many times the combat capabilities of the heaviest ship we had a mere decade ago. And they were burning in space. As a squadron would concentrate all its fire on a single ship. That ship, no matter how powerful, would burn and then explode as the beams and torpedoes first tore down its shields then vaporized large chunks of metal, synthetics and flesh.

We did not have it all our own way of course. Our own ships took terrible damage of their own. The USS Meiji fell out of formation as a beam sliced through a momentary flicker of her shields and destroyed her bridge and primary impulse engines. She drifted for a moment, lifepods accelerating away from her as more and more fire poured into her. The fire was only shifted after her remaining engineers ejected her warp core and remaining antimatter pods. She was left a twisted, blasted hulk, tumbling through space.

A glance at the chrono on my display showed that no more than two minutes had passed since the Captain gave the order to engage. One way or the other, this fight
would be over in far less than ten minutes.

It had been agreed that the Venture could not be lost. We held the only compliment of Marines in the system we could use to take back the Council building and Starfleet
headquarters. We held back behind Commodore Rhyne's 63rd squadron, giving them what help we could while they died to protect us. Even that was not enough to fully protect us.

“Hull breach on deck 32! Automatic systems responding. Damage control teams on the way.” Sandra reported from the operations console.

“Shields at seventy six percent and dropping.” Lieutenant Swanson said in turn from the tactical console.

“Stay on the 32nd squadron, Lieutenant Swanson. I want to know as soon as you get a solid lock on the Defender.” The Captain ordered. We were focused on finding the Defender and her sister command ships so we could focus on them and finish off any organization they had. With the start of the battle we had lost track of the command ships as everyone started maneuvering against the incoming fighters. Each squadron also took special precautions to hide their flagship as they were the central node of their tactical networks. The loss of the Suleiman, command ship of the 112th, had already made their squadron defenses inefficient causing them to take far heavier losses than the other two squadrons. Of the eight ships they had started the battle with they were down to four, and all of those remaining were damaged to a greater or lesser degree.

The 63rd had paid for that success though. Two ships destroyed outright and thousands of dead and wounded. Commodore Rhyne and his flagship, the USS Augustus were still there, making sure the other remaining ships of the squadron helped protect each other.

A Sovereign vanished in the flash of a failed warp core. The mass of stripped atoms and hard radiation was enough to make her sister ships shields fluoresce on the small visual display I maintained on one of my displays. The 63rd shifted fire to an undamaged Sovereign and began stripping her shields away as the range between us dropped further.

A chime sounded behind me just before I heard Lieutenant Swanson let out a cry of triumph. “USS Defender reacquired, sir. I am passing her location to the rest of the ships now.”

“Well done, Lieutenant.” The Captain exclaimed. Ops, make sure the rest of the fleet has the information. Helm, plot a course to their position. Coordinate with the 63rd. XO, inform Commodore Rhyne and sh'Resia of our intentions and invite them to join us.

“Response from the rest of the fleet, sir. Commodore Rhyne and sh'Resia have ordered their squadrons to punch through and take her out. Commodore T'Sai has ordered the Peregrines that are capable to turn around and assist us.”

“Understood, XO. Helm, take us in with the 63rd.” The Captain looked back to the main view screen as the tactical symbols started rearranging themselves. The Sovereign
that had been under fire just a few seconds before was limping away from the fight with severe damage. One of our own ships, the USS Hood, had turned back a few seconds before and was trying to get back under the cover of the 15th squadron holding position behind us and out of effective firing range.

The squadrons shifted formation. Fire was focused on the ships between us and the Defender. Shield generators were feed more power. The 63rd and 28th squadrons, all eleven remaining ships of the original sixteen, threw themselves at the enemy flagship. The squadron in front of us, already reduced to less than half its original strength, shattered under that blow. The remaining survivors scattered before us, going to full impulse on courses set directly away in the hope they could get away in time. The hole that opened up in front of us let us get a real first hand view of the Defender and her consorts.

It seemed that the fighters had been more successful than I had hoped. Most of the ships in the squadron in front of us had gashes and holes in their hulls from where they had been mauled by the single pass made by the fighters.

The USS Defender was at the very center of their formation. As well protected as they could make the center point of their tactical coordination. Removing the Defender would hopefully shatter their tac net and force them to turn and run.

All around the Venture ships were dying in flames as the two sides smashed together. Beams and torpedoes flashed through space, smashing into shields and hulls. The Venture shook violently as a salvo of torpedoes lost their original target and found us instead. A dozen domes of fire burst on our forward shields, straining them almost to their breaking point. A fraction of that fire leaked through, blasting into our hull and opening up a dozen compartments to space. The bridge lit up further as warning lights warned of the deeper damage done.

“Hull breaches in decks 8, 9 and 10. We have lost the power feed to the forward phaser bank. Sickbay is reporting heavy casualties in the area.” Sandra reported. I could not see her face, but from the way she was hunched over her console I could tell that the report was automatic. She was fully focused on the information in front of her and the verbal report was only thanks to her training.

“The fighters are reengaging, sir.” I looked up from the damage reports on my own console to the main screen just as a ship that had been firing at us exploded from the massed beams of a full flight of fighters punching through her weakened shield. We pushed onward, fighting and dying to get to the Defender and end this while anyone was still alive. I knew that it would not matter anymore. The two sides were fully intertwined by now. Even if we punched out the Defender we would still have to force each and every ship of the opposition to surrender, run or die.

“Status change! Many ships exiting warp outside the orbit of the moon. Bearing 023 by 045, range is 4.5 million kilometers. They are launching fighters. Signatures read as Federation ships. IFF and transponders read as 6th fleet. We have an incoming transmission. It's Admiral Diseth, sir.” Williams turned around to look at me, the surprise clear on his face. Behind him on the main screen new symbols were coming to life a quarter light second in front of us. The count was well over a hundred even without the mass of fighters that was still appearing from within the fleet.

Admiral Diseth was not someone I would have expected to send a message from 6th fleet. As the Chief of Fleet Operations she was responsible for all mobile assets the Federation had. With the death of Admiral Fitgerald she was now the second ranking Admiral in Starfleet. She should have been on Earth. With no word the assumption had been that she was one of the officers killed in the wave of bombings that had started the day.

“Put it on the screen, Lieutenant.” He turned back to his console and brought up the commander of 6th fleet on the main screen.

“This is Admiral Diseth to all ships in the vicinity of Earth. All ships engaged in hostilities in the area are ordered to stand down at once. You are to remain at stand down until you receive further orders. Failure to comply with this order will be meet by lethal force. The remainder of Home Fleet is directed and required to remain beyond the orbit of the moon or risk further hostilities. Admiral Diseth out.” The message immediately started repeating itself.

“Stand down. All vessels, stand down immediately.” Captain Pelatiers voice came over the open channels a fraction of a second before Commodores Rhyne and sh'Resia repeated the order to their own ships.

All around us in space beams flickered out and torpedoes flashed into balls of plasma as they self destructed. The damaged and dying ships continued to burn, speeding along on whatever trajectory they had before the stand down order came.

I still did not know if we had won or lost, but I closed my eyes and breathed a thanks that we would not have to kill any more people today.



“All the squadrons involved are going to be out of service for a minimum of two months, Admiral. The 15th is in the best shape, but it still needs to replace at least the one hundred and twelve fighters that were destroyed outright. Another fifty eight have taken damage that is going to need more than one week worth of repairs. Of the other squadrons involved only the 48th is in any shape we can use for the war. Probably because no one bothered to engage something as small as an Intrepid when there were Sovereigns shooting back. The battle squadrons all took no less than fifty percent casualties among it's personnel. All the ships involved were damaged to some degree with the median requiring six to eight weeks in a shipyard for repairs.” Commander Densworth, Admiral Diseth's chief of staff looked down at his notes before he continued.

“In conclusion, Home Fleet has had it's primary battle squadrons gutted today. While I cannot speak for how Starfleet HQ is going to handle this I project that the Federation is going to be sorely pressed over the next few weeks and months as our potentially offensive fleets is reduced from five to four as one of the other Fleets must come in to cover Earth until Home Fleet is brought back up to an acceptable force level. I wish to finish with a note that all figures are early estimates only. There has simply not been enough time to fully evaluate the damage incurred.”

“Thank you Commander Jobateh.” Admiral Diseth said as the Lieutenant Commander found his seat near the end of the table of the Empyrian's main conference room. I was hoping the meeting would not take much longer as I was impatient both to get back to the Venture and all her problems, but more importantly, we needed to drop on Paris and San Francisco as soon as we could. When a full Admiral gives an order though, no matter how politely the invitation is phrased, it tends to be obeyed. In this case an order for the unit commanders and their executive officers to report aboard the Empyrian.

Captain Pelatier, myself, Shari and Captain Arisu had shuttled over to the USS Empyrian, 6th fleets flagship, less than a half hour after the last shots had been fired. Our party, which included armored Marines after Captain Holcombes suicidal assassination of Admiral Fitzgerald, was meet in the docking bay by Admiral Diseth, Vice Admiral ch'Anen and the top officers of their staffs. Having armored Marines step out of the assault shuttles we had made the transfer in caused some interesting reactions among the crew of the Empyrian. It probably didn't help that both Shari and I were still in armor and that every member of our group was more or less heavily armed.

The Admirals that meet us acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Greeting us with grim expressions that hid the relief they expressed as soon as we reached somewhere more private. Waiting for us there was yet another surprise. Lord John Howard had stood up and come over to greet us warmly as soon as we stepped into the compartment. We hadn't had time to discuss anything as the room was rapidly filling up with officers from the various ships and squadrons who had received the invitation. He had simply shook hands with us said we would talk later.

Captain Collins and Commander Argyle, together with Lieutenant Colonel Serandon and Captain Volakis represented the Challenger. The two Marines studied our armor quickly and thoroughly. Despite the maintenance done to them they never were really returned to new condition. Weapons fire and high speed fragments tended to make small gouges that differed from the scuffs accumulated in training. Spend enough time around Marines and you learned to pick up the subtle marks on armor that had been abused as only combat can abuse it. They both nodded appreciatively at me as they noted the old covered marks and the fresh new spots where walls and grenade fragments had scuffed the armor only a few hours earlier.

With no time to socialize the meeting had started as soon as the last person had entered. Lieutenant Commander Jobateh had started with his damage report for Home
Fleet. With his conclusion Admiral Diseth had taken the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted you to hear what Commander Jobateh had to say first so that you understand how serious I am when I say that Home Fleet, and the damage and deaths it has suffered, is utterly unimportant at the moment.” The people around the table did not find this as surprising as they would have found it a few days earlier. “Our most important task right now is to secure the leadership of the Federation against those who would use violence to further their ideological goals.” The last part came out as a snarl. The Admiral was clearly not impressed with the stated ideals and objectives of the people behind the coup. He must have had a briefing similar to the one I had gotten on the Venture this morning. Looking over at Lord Howard it was clear who had given it to him.

“Captain Pelatier and Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda have presented me with their original plan. It was an audacious and clever strategy that would have seen the majority of the people who seized control of the Council building and Starfleet HQ this morning being brought to justice. It was a good plan. And we are going to scrap it. With the Challenger and Hammer company we now have twice the Marine forces they were relying on in the system and ready to go. Colonel Nakhoda and Colonel Serandon assure me they can have a new plan ready to go within an hour. Until they have that, everyone who is not giving them direct support is to attend to your regular duties with a few exceptions. All ships are to be prepared to drop shuttles with away-teams in support of the Marines. All ships are also to prepare a full blockade of the Earth. I don't want a single one of the bastards responsible for this getting away to stir up trouble in the future. In addition I want...”

The Admirals orders were interrupted by a Marine walking up to me and handing me a PADD. I frowned at the interruption but accepted the device without question. The Admiral continued the briefing without pause as I turned on the screen and looked at the message. A surge of adrenaline fueled anger flooded through my system as I recognized the sender.

'In need of backwards barbarians. 3483-8620-6510-3556'
The number was a com number to somewhere on Earth. Europe if I wasn't mistaken. The rest of the message could only come from one person though. Sergei. It seemed that my old friend wanted to talk. I passed the PADD over to the Captain. He quickly read the message then turned slightly to me and whispered “Go.”

With a quick nod to him I stood up and walked out of the room. Failing to notice in my anger the surprise of the rest of the room or the lone Marine that detached himself from the rest and followed me out the door.

As soon as I was out in the corridor I walked over to a wall panel and found the nearest secure communications station. Officers and crew members I met hugged the walls to avoid me and my single guard as I stalked down the corridor. Arriving at the hatch to the secure area I punched in my code and was admitted. Inside was a fairly small corridor with four doors. All four of them showed the red light of being busy. I turned to the nearest one and pressed the admittance button. The door opened and a young Ensign, not long out of the Academy looked out at me. His eyes grew wide as he took in my armor and weapons and the large anonymous Marine behind me. As his eyes meet mine he visibly shrank away from me.

“I need the room. Finish up and get out.” The kid looked like he was about to faint as he quickly fumbled to log out of the system before running out the door. I looked over at the Marine that had followed me. My anger lightened a bit as I noticed it was Private Muller.

“I need to make a call. Don't let anyone in without a direct order from me, Captain Pelatier or Shari. Got it?” His helmet bobbed once in understanding as he answered.

“Yes, sir.” He then stepped over to the side of the door and prepared for a long wait. I clapped him on an armored pauldron as I stepped into the room and begun initiating every security feature it had. Most of the systems I was starting up were never used except in very specific situations. This was a call I did not want to be overheard or recorded so everything was activated. With the systems activated, the door sealed I entered the code into the console and waited. It didn't take Sergei long to answer. He had made no attempt to hide where he was. I could see the park surrounding the Council building outside the window behind him.

“Hello, Jeremiah. It's good to see you have survived.” He looked somehow older than last I had seen him. Older and frightened and wearing a uniform that was rumpled and hanging after being worn for too long.

“I can't say the same Lieutenant Commander. What do you want?” I felt my anger toward him clouding my judgment. With difficulty I pushed it down.

“I'm sorry, Jeremiah. I would never have passed on the information I did if I had known how it was going to be used. You have to believe me on that.” I had to close my eyes for a moment. My teeth ground against one another as I slowly answered, my voice colder and harder than I realized.

“I do not have to believe anything you say. Your act of treason caused the deaths of friends. It caused my capture and torture. Thanks to you they slit Monaldi's throat while I was tied to a chair, watching. So no, I don't have to listen to anything you say.” Images flashed before me, threatening to overcome my control. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “But you wouldn't have contacted me if you didn't have a very good reason, so I am going to give you one chance to tell me what you want, before I board an assault shuttle with a squad of Marines and hunt you down.”

The man on the screen in front of me winced at that. Perhaps realizing that he would not find any sanctuary in our dead friendship. “I want you to save the Council, Jeremiah. They are going to be executed and the blame will be pinned on you and the Marines.”

“Explain.” I ordered him harshly.

“After what you did in the Citadel and to Home Fleet they realize that they are running out of time. They can't accept that they have failed and they are desperate to save the situation. If they start killing Council members they think they can force the rest of the Council to acknowledge their demands. A time has been set for two hours from now when they are going to start the executions.” It certainly made a certain kind of sick sense to someone who mistook the ends for the means.

“Where are they?”

“The Council members are being held in the main council chamber under guard. Jeremiah, most of the guards have the same armor and equipment that the regular Marines have. The regular security forces have either been co opted or killed.” He looked more haggard and tired than he had at the start of our conversation. What little hope he had shown at the beginning was gone from his eyes.

“Very well. I'll make sure the appropriate people get this information. Is there anything else?” I reached out towards the button that would close the connection.

“Just that I am truly sorry for what happened on Fa'Rov, Jeremiah.” My eyes narrowed and my hands clenched into fists as I leaned in toward the screen. My tone at first quiet. I quickly grew in volume as I vented my rage at the person who had hurt my friends and I so badly.

“You don't seem to understand exactly what happened down there. I was tortured till I fainted, woken up by a bucket of ice water and then tortured again. You caused that. You killed Monaldi. You killed Takagi. You killed those Marines. You are as responsible for killing them as the people who pulled the triggers. You are as responsible as the ones who slashed them with knives, shattered their bones and shocked them with painstiks until they choked on their own vomit. A simple sorry ain't gonna cut it, Counselor!” By the end I was screaming at the screen. It was a small miracle I did not draw my weapon and blast the terminal to dust.

“I know.” He whispered with soul deep sadness. His head hung in utter defeat, tears clearly running down his cheeks. Too angry to care I stabbed the disconnect button.

After he had disappeared from the screen it took me a long moment before I could focus enough through my anger to log out and shut down the terminal. Pausing before opening the door I took a few moments to compose myself and prepare for what I knew had to be done.

Outside the door Muller stood guard where I had left him. He braced to attention as I stepped out of the secure communications room. I looked over at him.

“We need to talk to the Captain. Send a message. Have him and Shari meet us outside the conference room.” I did not wait for a response, trusting Muller to get it right. So it was as expected when I turned the last corner and the Captain and Shari were standing out in the corridor waiting for me with several guards around them.

“It was Sergei and he had some information for us.” I stated without waiting for the Captain to prompt me. I continued with an explanation of what he had told me. Quickly summarizing the conversation. The Captain and Shari listened intently and clearly thinking about the news.

“Can we trust him, Jer?” Shari asked. She looked a little worried and placed her hand on my shoulder. I was still so tense I twitched once at her touch. She kept her hand there as I felt myself relax and think about her question.

“Yes. I think we can. He is just not that good an actor. I didn't care to notice it at the time but he was very distressed. And not just at what they are planning to do.” My memory replayed the pain in Sergei's eyes for me. I almost felt sorry for him then. Almost.

The Captain looked at me carefully for a moment. “Very well, XO. I'll go brief the rest of the them. You get back to the Venture and prepare her for an assault drop on Paris. You have command until I return. If I shouldn't get back in time, you and Lieutenant Commander Roland are to drop with the Marines when the time comes. Lieutenant Commander Sands will take command in that eventuality.” Shari and I braced to attention.

“Aye, aye, sir.” Was my response. The Captain nodded once to us before turning and stepping back into the conference room. Shari gathered up her Marines except a single fire-team that was detailed to watch the Captains back and we headed back to the shuttle bay and our ride back to the ship.

Once in the shuttle and heading back to the Venture I broke the silence that had hovered with us since the Empyrian.

“I think the profilers were right, Shari.”

“About Counselor Grigorii, you mean?” She looked across the narrow aisle at me.

“Yes. You should have seen him. He was devastated over what he had done. And then I told him exactly how horrible it had been and he cracked. By the end he was crying, Shari. I never really thought I would see it, but he was crying.” I shook my head at the memory. The anger was still there, burning deep within me. Another emotion had joined it though, a strange sense of pity with a hint of worry.

Despite our martial surroundings and the Marines pressing in on all sides, despite even our armor that negated almost all sense of touch, Shari reached across the aisle and took my hands in hers. I looked up and meet her eyes. She smiled at me.

“He was tricked and he used to be your friend. What he did was inexcusable and whatever happens he is going to face the punishment for what he did. Though he might have bought himself a little leniency if this information turns out to be true.” I smiled back at her.

“And you, Shari? What do you think?” Her smile vanished.

“I care about you, Jer. He hurt you. He is a traitor and he sold out my Marines to be tortured and killed. I'm not going to kill him outright. But that does not mean I don't want to.”

Yet again I was reminded that Shari was no gentle flower. She was a Marine. A hardcore ass-kicker as Top would have said. She might smile when she saw me keep my humanity through the chaos, but she would not give her enemies any more chances than she had to.

We stayed like that for the rest of the trip. Silently holding hands and waiting for the inevitable time when we would have to let go and charge once more into the fire.

---

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

“Launching now.” Lieutenant Commander Grooves voice came over the all hands com channel. Our pilot threw power to the engines in response to the orders from his commander. We exploded out of the hangar bay just behind Grooves shuttle. Around us, every single assault shuttle available was launching as well, escorted by half the Peregrine fighters available to 6th fleet. Off in the distance the Challenger was launching its shuttles into the waiting arms of their escorts above San Francisco.

The Captain had returned to the Venture in time to give us a quick briefing on the plan. We knew time was of vital importance, but rushing into the situation without preparation was an invitation to disaster. We would only get one chance at this or the Federation could devolve into a civil war at the same time we were fighting for our lives against an external enemy. Not a good situation.

Sergeant Aisdottir and her squad had been assigned to watch over me and my away-team. Everyone seemed to accept that will or not, me and my team would be at the front to solve any problems that did not require the judicious application of violence.

In the privacy of my helmet my face was lit by the information flashing past on my display. Schematics of the target building, file images of known and suspected opposition, readouts showing me the status of my team. Our team was going to support Saber platoon as they headed for the Presidents office. What little information we had said that the President was being held there. My attention was however focused mainly on the image I had centered in my view.

The news services had gotten footage of the battle in space. It had been hard to miss for the hemisphere that had faced it. I had not had time to look at the footage myself, though Lieutenant Rooney had said it looked like hundreds of short lived stars flickering in the night sky. Now the news channel I had on my feed was centered on the region of the night sky we would be coming down through.

The image from the ground lit up with shooting stars too numerous to count as we punched through the outer portions of the atmosphere. The plasma sheaths that formed around our vessels only grew as the pilots threw more power to their engines and shields. Instead of slowing we actually speed up. We were fairly sure we had eliminated any possibility of being fired on from the ground. That did not mean we were going to spend any more time as targets than we had to. Specially since every attempt that had been made to get the people who had taken over the Council building and Starfleet HQ to surrender was meet with nothing but defiance and threats.

The small battlefield schematic I had on my display blinked with an update. I brought it up to replace the view of our shuttles hurtling towards the ground. The shuttles that had been used to insert the fake Marines had finally managed to scramble. Though they were of a newer type than what the Marines were using, with far better air and space weapons. They did not however stand a chance against the fighters that locked onto their signatures and broke formation to go hunting.

The conspirators shuttles went to full power in a desperate bid to avoid the fighters swooping down on them like the hawks they were named after. Calls for surrender went out. In most cases it was heeded.

In three it was not. Fireballs lit up the night sky over Europe as all three of them were blasted into very tiny pieces by fighters that did not even bother with a second pass over the descending fireballs.

While some of the fighters went hunting, we were nearing our deployment points. I shut down the extraneous images on my display and reactivated the image enhancers to let me see inside the darkened assault shuttle. We all sat quietly in our seats as we blasted down through the rapidly thickening atmosphere. I looked around the inside of the assault shuttle and muttered a quiet thanks to Corporal Smith and his idea. Every person in armor had white stripes painted down their arms and across their helmets. We hoped it would keep us from killing each other in the chaos and confusion that was about to come. A beep sounded in my ears as a counter ticked down past 30 seconds and Sergeant Aisdottir called over our internal channel.

“Stand up! Face out!” We all stood up, reaching above us to grab the bars installed for this specific purpose. I turned towards the right side exit and waited. The others in the shuttle, Starfleet and Marine alike did the same. Each turning to their door and prepared mentally for what would come next.

When the counter hit 10 the doors on the sides and back of the small craft opened. By now we had slowed down to less than 200 kilometers per hour and were still decelerating rapidly. With the shields still up the main difference was the light. The lights of Paris were shining below us and racing up to meet us. The assault shuttle suddenly flipped from nose down to presenting its belly to the ground. In the same instance its shield snapped off filling the shuttle with a surge of turbulence. Aisdottir came over the com channel again.

“Go go go!” They jumped out into the night, Clearing the door as fast as they could. I and Aisdottir were the only ones left in the end before we too jumped down to the ground, a meter below the hovering shuttle. I hit the ground and rolled away just as the night lit as if it were day.

They had been waiting for the shuttle to drop its shields. As soon as they were down someone had stepped out into the open and fired a heavy phaser straight into the cockpit of the shuttle. The beam had gone straight through the armored glass and killed the pilot instantly before blasting a hole in the back wall and out into the cargo compartment, passing through where the Sergeant had been only a few seconds earlier.

The blast in the cockpit showered the copilot with fragments from the windscreen and threw him into his restraints. Luckily he managed to stay conscious thanks to his now dented and cracked helmet. He turned on the shield and accelerated away from the council building and any possibility of giving us cover from the air.

Not that we needed it quite yet as the heavy phaser gunner had exposed himself to fire at the shuttle and was tossed through the air by a couple of grenades lobed from one of our grenadiers, that detonated right next to him. Despite his armor he did not get back up.

That seemed to be the signal for the rest of the opposition to open up and a veritable wall of phaser fire came to meet us. It gave me a greater appreciation of the courage the Klingons had displayed as we all sought cover and started returning fire.

“Sword 6 to all Javelin units. You are cleared to open fire on opposition upon detection.” Shari's voice came over the command channel I was hooked into, removing the last hold on the heavy air to ground weapons of the Lieutenant Commander Grooves shuttles.

Around us more assault shuttles were landing to disgorge their cargo of Marines, and with the lesson of what had happened to my shuttle they were not taking any risks. The shuttles were coming in nose first and simply firing on any sensor target that presented itself. Large chunks of the building flew outward from antimatter cored detonations as any resistance was meet with micro-torps and phaser fire. The building was the center of a ring of light as fire was poured into its centuries old facade. Within seconds there was no more fire coming from the building. The exterior of the building had been known as one of the most beautiful in the Federation. It had been turned into a blackened, pulverized ruin with smoke billowing from dozens of places. The radiation detectors in my armor were highlighting several areas that were going to be decidedly unhealthy for unarmored individuals until they were thoroughly de-conned. Anti-matter made great bangs, but the hard gammas were decidedly unpleasant.

With most of the external resistance silenced we started advancing on the building. The point squads sprinted forward under the cover of the rest of the platoon and the hovering assault shuttles. Several short vicious firefights broke out as lone survivors tried to fight or someone deeper in the building fired at a Marine. We were not taking any chances. Any resistance was meet by overwhelming fire from the myriad of weapons available to us.

Once the outside of the building had been taken it was time for the rest of us to move. As soon as the 'go' order came down my away-team and I moved forward with our escorting Marines. We sprinted forward through courtyard surrounding the Council building. The scene around us was a confusion of flickering shadows and glaring lights from the fires burning in the building and the fighting just ahead of us. It was confusing enough to affect us even through the enhancers in our visors.

We had landed at the closest practical point to our target and expected to meet heavy resistance. So far it had been heavy enough that I passed several Marines on the ground. Dead or wounded I had no way to tell, nor did I have the time to stop and check. I stopped behind what was left of a marble pillar and peeked around it. A hole had been carved into the wall from some assault shuttles chin mounted phaser. It was a meter high and at least ten long, opening up a series of offices to the outside.

I checked that my entire team was present before I followed Sergeant Aisdottir through the wall and into the building. My foot caught on something as I was going through, causing me to fall down on my face. Annoyed I kicked at whatever had caught on my boots. It fell away from me and let me scramble to my feet. I was in a bit of a rush as just beyond the inner wall of the office I was in, the Marines were pushing their way forward down one of the buildings many corridors. I hunkered down next to the wall and waited as Saber platoon pushed the opposition back meter by bloody meter. I looked behind me to see what I had tripped on and realized it was the lower body of a human in armor. Whoever they had been must have been kneeling near a window when the shuttle opened fire. I could not find the rest of them anywhere.

Shaking my head to clear the sight I called over the com-net to Shari. “Sword 6, Venture 5. Over.”

“Sword 6 here. Go.”

“Sit Rep. Over.”

“On plan. High casualties. Low resistance. Ahead of schedule. Over.”

“Solid copy, Sword 6. Venture 5 out.” Her cryptic comments told me that despite the higher than expected casualties we had taken the plan was still in play and we did not have to go to one of the alternate plans that had been made. With the situation clearer I called up another channel.

“Venture 5 to Venture.”

“Venture here, XO. Go ahead.” The Captains calm voice came back to me from the Ventures bridge in orbit above us.

“Assault is going as planned. We have taken more casualties than expected though and I think we need to get those medivac shuttles here a little sooner than planned.” I looked at the minute display on the inside of my visor that showed me the clean, well lit interior of the bridge. An even smaller icon showed my face through my cleared visor as they were seeing it. The darkness, smoke and flickering lighting was distracting a few of the ratings from their jobs as they got a small glimpse of something I was becoming far too comfortable with.

“Understood, XO. We have every hospital within a thousand kilometers of there on stand-by. The first casualties from the shuttles that tried to run have already been brought in for treatment. Security personnel are reporting that they are fully prepared for any prisoners you can get. Is there anything else we can do?” I could see through the Captains cool demeanor that he was worried. Not just about the mission or me, but every one of his people who was down here, fighting and dying while he was safely on the ship.

“Not really, sir. Unless you can find us another couple companies of Marines.”

“Understood, XO. We'll get on that.”

“Appreciate it, sir. Venture 5 out.” I closed the connection and returned fully to the world that was
around me.

The entire building had lost power at some point leaving the rooms and halls in a deep dark. Only the emergency lighting was constant as the remainder of the illumination came from exploding grenades and weapons fire. Our visors helped immensely, letting us see well enough to fight and navigate, though not well enough that the entire scene was not one of the most unnerving things I had ever experienced. The prospect of sudden violent death did not help calm my nerves either.

The conspirators may have gotten their hands on the same equipment the Marines had, but it was painfully obvious they had not spent the same amount of time training and learning how it changed the way you had to fight. Their first real attempt at a counterattack was crushed within seconds as they tried to fight the way the old security forces had been trained. With great individual skill and no real teamwork.

A group of them had burst out from behind cover, their weapons pointed vaguely forward and charged. They must have been using the built in targeting systems as their fire was surprisingly accurate, forcing many of my people to keep their heads down. Not that it really helped them in this case. Marines that were not pinned down took them down with pin-point phaser fire. Armor that could shrug off individual hits was quickly breached when you knew exactly where to aim. The helmet and chest plate could take a few hits. The throat could not.

Once the attack was reduced to smoking corpses on the ground the Mariens bounded forward under cover of grenades and fire from the machine gunners. Those armed with the new railguns took point and started putting their lethal little darts through any cover that was even slightly suspicious. It may not be enough to harm someone in armor after passing through a wall or pillar, but it was more than enough to knock them to the ground or just simply react. Revealing themselves and giving the grenadiers a target.

We ran into the first strong point as we approached our chosen way to the upper floors. It looked like they had actually built bunkers in the middle of the corridor. Maybe beamed them in before we activated the global transport denial system. However they had been installed they represented a serious obstacle that we would have to remove to be able to keep moving towards our primary target.

The first Marine who stepped around the corner a moment after the grenade he had thrown detonated, received a rude and terminal surprise as the light support phasers mounted in the armored pillboxes opened up on him. Private Schmidt was killed instantly as he was struck by a stream of fire that tracked across his body to pierce his armor in the throat and visor. The rest of his team bounded forward while pouring weapons fire into the structure. More teams fought their way into the wide corridor, taking cover behind pillars, decorative pieces of art and anything else they could find. Grenades were reaching out and impacting on and around the pillboxes to no effect, while phasers were doing everything they could to suppress the opposition behind the low armored boxes. We finally managed to take the bunkers down when a squad cut their way through walls and came up behind the strong point, clearing it out in short violent bursts from their weapons. In all that one strong point had caused three casualties for us, all of them dead.

We reached the large stairwell that led up to the upper floors and the Presidents offices. The fire from the upper levels was some of the fiercest we had meet yet. We were gaining ground but only at the cost of more lives lost. Grenades flew in both directions as the scene was lit by a storm of blue pulses flashing across the darkness to strike down anyone incautious or unlucky.

Private Holmberg stepped up to the wall I was hiding behind and leveled his massive phaser. “Sir, get out of the way.” I waved my team away and dove for the next available cover as the Private opened fire straight through the wall. He fired in short bursts of golden light that bored through the wall in an instant to strike whatever he was aiming at beyond it. Four quick bursts were all he fired before turning and jumping back behind the cover I was using, coming to a rest next to me.

“Gotta love it when your team tags the bad guys for you, sir.” His words were punctuated by a ripple of explosions from where he had just been standing. The 'bad guys' had just dropped several grenades where he had fired from, obviously displeased with the hulking Private. The fighting picked up at that as the opposition was pushed out of the stairwell. The rest of the Marines taking advantage of his distraction to assault the enemy positions, driving them out of their prepared defenses, and forcing them to surrender or die.

I soon found myself in a formerly opulent hallway that ended in a set of double doors. Those doors had been shown in the media on numerous occasions as the final stop before the office of the President. They were carved mahogany masterpieces showing the seal of the Federation. Though at the moment they were blackened and gouged from weapons fire.

The fighting in the corridor had been some of the fiercest we had faced yet. By the time I had stepped around the corner the resistance had been eliminated. Casualties lay where they had fallen, those still alive were being tended to by medics.

I walked down the smoking corridor to where the point team was placing explosives on the priceless doors to the Presidents office. In rooms to either side, other teams were doing the same to the walls. When we breached it would be with as much force as possible in as short time as possible. I stopped next to Lieutenant Gardner who was discussing the impending breach with his platoon Sergeant, Gunnery Sergeant Booth and his main Engineer, Corporal Smith.

“Charges will be in place in moments, sir. Second and third squads are ready to breach and enter. Still nothing about internal resistance.” The Gunny looked over at the Corporal.

“We can't get a signal through the walls. The room is shielded from our tricorders.” The Corporal shrugged. “There is not really anything we can do without cutting a hole in the wall, Gunny.”

“Which we are ready to do anyway, just not in a way that will help you, Corporal.” Lieutenant Gardner responded. “Can't be helped. Gunny, As the President might be in there I want survivors from this one. No frags and the railers can only fire on armored enemies.” Gunny Booth nodded and turned away to give the Marines their final instructions. I had my away-team form up close by so they could follow the Marines through as quickly as possible.

Lieutenant Gardner gave the setup a quick glance before calling over the platoon channel. “Go, go, go!”

Responses of “Fire in the hole!” came from the Marines controlling the charges. All three charges
were blown near simultaneously. As soon as the holes had been cut, grenadiers tossed grenades through. Stun grenades would barely affect someone in armor, but often 'barely' is the difference between life and death.

The explosions and stun grenades pounded on my armor and focus as I lead my away-team forward, following the Marines that were throwing themselves through the holes as fast as they could. The new entrances to the Presidents office came alive with the reflected light of phaser fire as whoever was in the room tried to stop us from entering. The doors had been blasted off their hinges and scattered across the interior of the room, hopefully missing any hostages that might be inside.

By the time I could get through the hole, my own rifle up and scanning for enemies as I had been trained to do, the fighting was over.

Though there had been more of the opposition in this room than in any other single room we had yet encountered it had not mattered when they had been attacked from several sides at once. More than twenty people had been trying to hold this room and the hostages from us. They were all on the ground, unharmed, wounded or dead, being searched and stripped of weapons and armor.

I had seen the Presidents office on video several times before, but the scale of the room still took me by surprise, you could have landed a cargo shuttle in the room and had space to spare. Though the room was currently a scene of chaos as the last clears could be heard over the com-net it still managed to portray how much power and influence the person sitting in it wielded.

A group of hostages could be seen in the distance being checked over by a group of Marines. I started heading that way, mindful of the damage that had been done. Several small fires had broken out in the luxurious furnishings and the Presidents massive desk was turned over on its side to give some small measure of cover. It had not seemed to help much as it had been punctured in well over a hundred places, with spatters of blood coating the inside of it.

The sound of an explosion came to me from somewhere else in the building reminding me that no matter how calm this area seemed, elsewhere the fighting was obviously still heavy and unrelenting.

I passed one group of prisoners standing on their knees with their hands behind their heads and rifles aimed directly at them. They were all in regular uniforms and had probably been stunned by the plethora of stun and flash grenades thrown into the room. Everyone in armor had been wounded or killed in the assault. I paused and looked down at them, something had grabbed my attention.

“Felbardek. What the hell are you doing here?” The former Venture crew member was bruised and bloody, though without any real injuries. I cleared my visor so he could see who it was. I was uncertain whether my name could be seen through the soot and grime coating my armor. He looked up at me and recognized me. It was not something he had looked forward to or even expected if his expression was anything to go by.

“Serving the best interests of the Federation.” The statement had a feel of repetition to it, as if he was simply saying what he had been told to say. He had changed over the past few months. While he still looked at me with some of the same anger he had always felt against those who had, in his mind, undeserved power over him. There was something else there as well. Something had broken inside him, leaving him a defeated man. I looked down at him coldly for a while before responding.

“Bullshit, Lieutenant. But if you want to stick to it, I'm sure the courts will be more than happy to hear of it later. Not to mention the small fact that you should not even be in uniform after what happened on the Venture. I'm sure I will be seeing you around.” I reset my visor and turned away from the captives. My away-team was waiting at my back. Looking around I addressed them.

“Rooney, Asem, you're with me. The rest of you do what you can for the wounded.”

After a chorus of aye, aye's, my team got to work in the room, helping the many wounded on both sides, putting out the fires and whatever else they could do to help. I turned and walked over to the hostages with my two henchmen behind me.

Most of the hostages looked like they were in better shape than they could have been. They were all in fashionable civilian clothing and seemed younger on average than I would have expected. Looking them over more closely, with a little help from the images loaded into my armor, I realized they were all staff members of the President and her cabinet. Lieutenant Gardner was speaking with a young man that looked like he might have been very well groomed at the start of the day. Now he was disheveled and in serious need of a shower and a shave. Spending the day as a hostage did that to you.

“Then they separated out the staffers from the Council members and brought us here.”

“Where is the President, mister Lombardi?” The Lieutenant asked.

“I'm not sure, sir. The took her away just before you got here. I heard two of them saying that they never believed you could move so fast.” He paused and took a deep breath. Before he could finish though Lieutenant Gardner patched me into a message that took my complete attention.

“Repeat, Athena secured, my location. Athena in need of medical. Over”

“Solid copy, 3-2. Dispatching medical now.” Lieutenant Gardner response came as I was looking at my map for Saber 3-2s location. The young aide kept talking, not realizing that were no longer listening to him as I switched over to my away-teams channel.

“We have the President, but she is hurt. Everyone on me now.” A quick glance at my map as I exited the room told me everyone in the team was either right behind me or catching up quickly. Sergeant Aisdottir's squad was spread out around us as we came to the corridor with the President.

She was laying face down on the floor with a Marine holding a bloody bandage to her lower back. Around them were the bodies of the people who had tried to get her away from us and three others watching for threats. Ensign Tian and Chief Jones skidded to a halt next to the President, their equipment already in their hands as they took over the care of President Graydon.

“Corporal Muir, report.”

“We were moving to secure the top of stairwell 4, Commander, when we caught up with this group of opposition.” He gestured to the bodies laying in the corridor. “Private Phelps reported a hostage as we engaged them with aimed fire from positions by the corner. The engagement lasted no more than a few seconds. Once they were all down we moved in to secure the hostage and any injured before continuing to the stairwell. We discovered the hostage was the President and that he had been injured. At that point Private Phelps had started first aid and I called it in. We finished securing the opposition, who had all been killed during the initial exchange of fire and moved to further secure this corridor against counter attacks. By the time that was done you arrived. We have deployed sensors in all adjacent rooms and corridors and 4-1 is en route to complete our initial tasking, Commander.”

“What's the Presidents condition, Corporal?”

“Contact phaser wound to the lower left back, sir. That's all we could find in the time available to us, sir.”

“Well done, Corporal. We'll take over from here.” The Corporal nodded, gathered up his fire-team and headed off down the corridor, their positions taken over by Aisdottirs squad. I stopped by Ensign Tian as he sprayed sealant into the wound. Chief Jones was across the President with her medical tricorder open.

“How is she, Chief?” She didn't look up from her work as she answered.

“As long as she gets to a hospital soon she should survive. The shot missed her spine and major arteries, that's the good news. The bad news is that she is going to need a rebuild on some significant parts of her internal organs. Her kidney, spleen and stomach are all effectively destroyed. Along with large portions of her large and small intestines. The only reason she is alive is that no major blood vessel ruptured. She has some significant thermal damage to the rest of her lower torso as well, including her spinal cord. A good medical facility should be able to put her back on her feet, assuming we can get her there in time, Commander.”

“Any chance she is going to wake up in time to tell us what the bad guys are planning?” She snapped her tricorder shut and returned it to her belt before reaching into the medical pack she had laid out on the ground and pulling out a stretcher.

“No, Commander. We could wake her up, but that would simply be excruciatingly painful for her, despite the drugs she is getting. Right now we need to get her to a medivac shuttle.”

Moments later President Graydon was strapped into the stretcher and back in her office. Lieutenant Gardner meet me as we entered the room.

“Commander, I have diverted a medivac shuttle to the Presidents personal shuttle pad. 2-1 has secured it and 2-2 are standing by to take President Graydon there.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.” I switched channels to my away-team, telling them where to take the unconscious President. Aisdottir and her squad stayed with me as my away-team carried her away.

I took a sip of water and checked the situation in the rest of the building. Despite the resistance we were making good progress toward securing all our objectives. The only thing left was the Council chamber and the rooms directly adjacent. We expected the rest of the hostages were being held in the main chambers. The room around me was emptying out as the Marines moved on to their secondary objectives.

Once my away-team returned it would be time to head down to meet up with Shari's command squad and finish this. Before they had time to return though a priority message from the Venture caused me to look up and frown.

“Venture 5 here. Go ahead Venture.”

“XO, we're sending you a feed that just started transmitting through the public address system in the Council chambers. It's going out to the entire planet.” Without waiting for my response the image of the Ventures bridge on my HUD was replaced by a view from inside the Council chambers a few hundred meters away from where I was standing.

The large round room was darker than I had ever seen it with most of the lighting turned off. The flags of the various member planets hanging around the walls were darker shadows where armored figures moved. The rows of seats that all faced the speakers dais at the front of the room were almost lost entirely from view. The only source of light were the spotlights lighting up the seal of the Federation behind the podium at the front of the room.

Sitting on the open floor in front of the speakers dais, huddling close to each other were the Council members from the Federations many member worlds. They all had their hands bound behind their backs. Around them were the armed and armored people who had taken them hostage almost 24 hours earlier. They were more than I could easily count, though I knew that quite a few people were doing just that.

This was a goldmine of information for Shari and her officers. I checked a secondary display to make sure they had this as well. The picture zoomed in and brought my attention firmly back to my primary view. It zoomed in on a group of people standing next to the speakers box at the front of the room. Most of them were clad in armor, hiding their faces, with two exceptions. One in armor sans the helmet and the other in a regular Starfleet duty uniform. My eyes went wide as I recognized the unarmored person as Sergei and the other as Admiral Angotti, the vice chief of staff for Starfleet. An audio feed started up suddenly in my ears, startling me.

“You can't do this, Admiral. It would invalidate everything that we have done here today. If you murder these people in cold blood there will be nothing to save what people have fought and died for.” Sergei and the Admiral were standing face to face and apparently arguing. Their body language certainly said as much. Though Sergei was looking more and more desperate.

“No one will know, Counselor. And if we don't get out of here those fucking Marines are going to blast down the doors and kill us all. Not even they would dare to do that if they knew we are willing to kill every person they are trying to 'save'. The only hope we have left is if we can get away and convince people who the real traitors are. And if these weak willed sycophants have to die to restore the Federation to itself, then that is exactly what I am going to do.” He waved at the Councilors and aides that huddled below the raised dais they both stood on.

“Please, Admiral. Don't you have enough blood on your hands? Nothing good can come from killing these people.” The Admiral leaned forward and jabbed a finger into Sergei's chest.

“I'll tell you what good can come from this, Counselor. We can replace these things with Councilors who understand the values of the Federation and are not afraid to uphold them. Despite any doomsayers that only want to return us to the dark ages for their own personal gain. The Federation was built on certain principles, and if I have to sacrifice my own to save it then so be it. Commander Driscol, select a Councilor.”

Sergei continued to argue with the Admiral while an armored female stepped off the dais and walked up to the hostages. She grabbed on of them, a Vulcan who did not resist in the least and guided him back up onto the dais next to the speakers podium. The Council member was placed on his knees as another anonymous individual stepped up in front of him and started entering commands into their armor. A secondary feed came up in my armor as they transmitted the helmet camera view of the person standing in front of him. Behind him the one identified as Commander Driscol leveled a phaser at the back of his head.

At this Shari's voice came over the company wide channel. “Sword 6 to all Sword units. Shiva. I repeat, Shiva. Platoon leaders coordinate. Sword 6 out.” The short cryptic message had a special meaning to those who had been briefed on our plans for the assault. It meant that all other priorities had been pushed back and that the only thing that mattered was getting to the Council chambers as fast as possible.

While it was only one of a half dozen different contingencies that had been planned for. It was expected to be the hardest to implement. The one room in the building that was sure to be the most well defended was now to be rushed as fast as possible. The very speed that now meant life or death for the Councilors, also meant that there would not be enough time for the careful room to room advance of the assault up to this point. Leaving us vulnerable to counterattacks and casualties from directions that would otherwise have been secured.

With my away-team reformed I took off towards the Council chambers at a run. Hoping against hope that we would make it in time. I pushed the view from inside to a corner of my view, letting me half watch it and half watch my feet. Trusting my away-team and Aisdottir's squad to watch out for any bad guys who might still be around.

Back by the speakers podium Admiral Angotti waved for someone to block Sergei while he himself stepped over so that he was in the view they were transmitting themselves.

“Marines. You will leave this building immediately or we will execute the Council members.” The Admiral waited for a moment before he looked over his shoulder and received a head shake from an armored individual. “As you do not seem to believe us. This is just one more death you have caused among all the innocent people slaughtered by your actions today.” He nodded to Commander Driscol who pulled the trigger.

The Councilor fell on his face as a blue light flashed behind his head and a cloud of steam rose from his shattered skull. A series of gasps could be heard from around the large room.

I watched from two angles as they dragged the body away and brought up another Councilor, this one a Tellerite. The short woman was dragged up onto the dais. Having seen what happened to her colleague she was well motivated to resist them. Despite her spirited resistance however, she was pushed to her knees and shot without any hesitation. Her body removed and yet a third Councilor brought up.

With two people holding him back, Sergei could do nothing more that plead for the Admiral to stop. His desperation was clear, as was his determination to do anything he could, no matter how insignificant.

After the third Councilor was executed the Admiral, ignoring Sergei's pleas, spoke again. “Marines. You will cease your assault and fall back before more blood is spilled on your hands today.” He looked coldly into the helmet camera they were transmitting from for a moment before turning away. A fourth Councilor was carried, kicking and screaming, onto the dais and placed in front of Commander Driscol.

She was given a stay of execution however by a shout from someone in engineering marked armor who came running up to the Admiral. The commotion stayed the executioners hand as she waited for further information.

The Admiral was standing next to the speakers podium as the engineer rushed to his side, placing them and their conversation within range of the audio recording equipment contained within it.

“Sir, the public address system is transmitting. It's all over the planet by now and probably on its way to the rest of the Federation beyond as well.” The engineer was in full armor with his visor mirrored, but his body language was loudly proclaiming how nervous he was as he held out a PADD for the Admiral.

Admiral Angotti's face on the other hand was clearly visible. The naked fury that he displayed worried me. Someone as angry as he was made rash decisions. Decisions that were regretted for lifetimes. He snatched the PADD and stared at it for a few moments before throwing it back.

“Who did this?” He snarled in response.

“Tracking it down now, sir. Hold one.” A few tense seconds followed as the engineer tapped on the PADD, searching for the information the Admiral wanted.

During those few seconds I came to a stop just around the corner from the final corridor before the Council Chambers. A quick peek told me that Shari's Marines had control over it and was preparing to blow the door. The tactical schematic told me that they would have to wait a few moments longer for the last teams to get ready. I moved my away-team up behind the Marines stacking up by the door, with myself in the lead and waited for the 'go' command.

”Found it, sir. Whoever set this up had to use their personal access codes. Lieutenant Commander Sergei Grigorii, sir.” The Admiral spun on his heel to look at Sergei. The people with him seized his arms to stop him from escaping as the Admiral walked over to him.

“What have you done, Sergei? Those weak willed sheep out there will never understand why this was all necessary. You have handed the Federation over to those who would destroy it from the inside, you fucking traitor!” Sergei began to respond, a look of determination on his face. The Admiral was however not interested. He pulled out his phaser and shot Sergei in the chest at point blank range.

On the screen I saw him clutch his hands to his chest, his face a mask of pain and confusion. He stayed on his feet until the Admiral fired again, and again. By the time the Marines blew their charges and stormed into the room, the Admiral was standing over Sergei, firing his phaser into him as rapidly as he could pull the trigger.

I saw this with my own eyes as I came into the large Council chambers following the leading Marines far too closely for their comfort. All around me the room was in chaos. Explosions and weapons fire was doing its best to destroy the very air itself as everyone in the room opened up on anything they perceived as a threat. The darkness in the room was obliterated by thousands of flashing lights from the weapons and explosions.

Phaser blasts passed close by me, striking someone. I could hear their gasp of pain over my communications gear. I paid it no mind. I was totally focused on the front of the room and Admiral Angotti. Other Marines were forcing their way forward along side me, laying down as much fire they could to protect the hostages who had thrown themselves flat on the floor with the first explosions. The people who had been clustered around the hostages and Admiral were all flat on their bellies, trying to survive and returning fire as best they could. Only the Admiral was still on his feet. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had not been hit yet. Despite the standing orders to take him alive he should have been hit by something by now.

My railgun was against my shoulder as I placed the aiming point over the Admirals chest. At this point I had very little interest in standing orders. The Admiral had turned toward the front of the room and was firing his phaser at anything he could see. What little he added to the chaos of the room mattered little more to me than an excuse to pull the trigger. It broke cleanly under my finger, sending a tiny dart of metal snapping across the room to hit the Admiral in the middle of his chest. I let my finger relax, resetting the trigger. As soon as I felt it click into place I pulled it back again. The aiming point seemingly painted on the outside of his armor as I sent dart after dart snapping across the room between us.

By the third round the armor was pushed beyond its designed limits. Shattering to dust and letting the fourth dart through. It punched through the impact absorbing underlayers and the skinsuit worn under that, penetrating his sternum to pierce his heart. Following close behind were three more darts, whose combined energy sufficed to rip the organ to shreds. They continued on to exit his back plate. While elsewhere the pressures built up by their passing through his body caused blood to be forced out the entrance hole as well as the Admirals mouth.

I watched as he dropped to the ground in a spray of blood, my sights never leaving the torn remnants of his chest. He barely had time to hit the ground before I was brought down myself. A Private slammed into me bringing me to the floor. The space I had been standing in was filled with the golden beam of a heavy phaser. The massive private must have seen that I was being targeted when he brought me to the ground. My helmet prevented me from being killed as my head slammed through a desk that happened to be in the way. It was however not good enough to prevent me from loosing consciousness from the impact. I had a few moments of confusion to how I had ended up looking up at the ceiling before I faded into unconsciousness.


***

“Commander Sorenson?” The voice sounded concerned about something. My response was an unintelligible groan. Perhaps they were right to feel concern. I cracked open my eyes and looked up at Lieutenant Rooney. A wave of nausea came over me and I turned over onto my side as I emptied my stomach onto the floor. The feeling subsided enough after that to let me know I had one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. I felt her place a hand on my shoulder to stop me from rolling off the stretcher I was laying on as I wiped my mouth and fell back to look up at the ceiling. She pulled a hypospray out of a medical kit and pressed it against my neck. The world immediately started slowing down and my headache subsided.

“What happened?” I managed to say once the spinning stopped.

“You were almost shot, sir. You have a concussion from when Private Meskil hit you a little too hard. Just lie still for a while and rest.” That sounded like a very good idea. Too bad I had responsibilities.

“Did we win?” She nodded as she responded.

“Yes, sir. We lost far too many people, including Ensign Tian, but we managed to get almost all of them in the end.”

“Almost?” I said with my eyes closed as the news about the Ensign hit me.

“Colonel Nakhoda thinks a few may have gotten away in the confusion. No more than ten or so, and no one on the 'important' list. We did it, sir.” I rubbed my face before looking back up at her.

“It will just have to be good enough. Do you have any water?” I asked after trying the reservoir in my armor. With some help I sat up and gratefully accepted a bottle of water. Using it to first clear the taste out of my mouth before drinking the rest of it. I looked around the council chambers, now fully lit. The room bustled with activity. All around were Marines performing their post battle duties. Securing prisoners, helping the wounded, counting the cost. More Starfleet personnel had shown up. Some wearing security uniforms escorting away the prisoners. Others wearing medical uniforms who worked on the wounded.

My stretcher was one of many that had been placed near where the main entrance to the room had been. Quite a few were still occupied, though the people in them seemed to have fairly minor injuries.

Further down in the room I spotted Shari with a few of her officers talking to what I assumed was the head of the security personnel that had arrived while I was unconscious. In the clearest sign that everything was over, all the Marines had removed their helmets. I threw the empty bottle away and stood up with a little help from the Lieutenant. Catching the end of their conversation as I approached.

“My platoon leaders just reported in that their final sweep is complete, Commander. They report that the building is clear. No remaining opposition or traps.”

“Thank you, Colonel. My people will take it from here. Tell your people they did good work here this morning.”

“Thank you, Commander, I will. We are going to hang around a bit until our shuttles have finished their runs. So we will be here if you need us.” They shook hands and turned away to their separate duties. Shari gave a few quick orders to her officers before turning to me. “How are you feeling, Jer?”

“Like I was hit by a runaway shuttle. But I'll be fine. How is everything else?”

“Better than I had expected when we landed. Just about everyone on our list has been accounted for, and the ones we haven't are all fairly low level people.”

“And our people?” I asked with trepidation, remembering the fallen I had passed getting to this room.

“Thirty six casualties. Sixteen of them fatal. Among them Lieutenant Martins and Gunny Harris. I'm afraid Sandra was injured as well. She is at the hospital now.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Too early to tell, I'm afraid. I'm going to head over there as soon as I can. Though I expect we are going to be busy with debriefings for the foreseeable future.” I sighed at the thought of more debriefings, knowing that it would be far worse this time than it had been after the Fa'Rov raid. Any response I might have given was interrupted by First Sergeant Lindkvist.

“Colonel, Javelin 6 just reported that she has dropped off her last load of injured and is on her way back for pickup.” Top tapped her ear for emphasis as she spoke. Shari nodded and turned to her officers to ensure everything really was ready for our departure. In the mean time I spotted something deeper in the large room that sparked a cloudy memory. The drugs I had gotten obviously only helped with the nausea and pain of a concussion, not the fuzzy thinking and unreliable memory. I shook my head at forgetting that particular moment.

“Shari, you go on ahead. I'll catch up.” She followed my gaze and saw what had sparked my memory. Her smile was gentle as she rested a hand on my arm.

“Take your time. We'll be waiting.” I nodded distractedly and started down the steps toward the dais. The walk down was unsettling as I had to navigate my way through the debris and damages caused by the intense fighting. While my attention was focused on the dais I could not help but think about how the room had looked only the previous day. There would not have been deep gashes in the polished marble from the heavy phasers. Small but deep holes in the walls and furnishings from the railguns. Whole sections of luxurious seating that had burned to ash from missed shots.

I walked up the steps to the dais and looked down at the two bodies remaining. They had been covered with white sheets that were now soaked through with blood. I paused and looked down at the nearest one. Remembering how the trigger broke under my finger, the crack of the dart going down range and the blood that sprayed from the impacts. A drying pattern of red drops was visible on the wall behind where he had stood, along with the minute holes my darts had made after passing through their target.

I turned away from him and stopped next to Sergei. I pulled the sheet away from his face and looked down at him. My emotions were a confusing mix of sadness and delight. He had been a friend and a traitor in life. At one point I would have killed him with as much hesitation I had shown with the Admiral under the sheet behind me. I knew it would take me a long time to come to grips with what had passed between us these past few months. The one thing I would not forget though, was that he had given his life in pursuit of his principles.

---

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

Epilogue

“We must never forget the sacrifices of these courageous men and women in their service to the Federation. They payed the ultimate price in service to the oaths they all took.”

The President still moved slowly after her injuries. Doctor Brown had told me they should all have been healed by now, leaving only fading scars. I reached up and rubbed my beard, remembering that not all traumas left visible scars.

While she may move a bit slower than before, there was nothing wrong with her voice. Her quiet confidence was clear for all those gathered at the ceremony to hear as she stood in front of a stone circle. Three meters tall and more than ten wide, inscribed with the names of every person who had been killed in the coup. The sobering monument, with several thousand names carved deep into its smooth granite surface, had been erected more rapidly than was the norm for something so important. Only two weeks had passed since the long night when we had retaken the Council chambers. The continuing war against the Klingons precluded any waste of time. It stood in front of the Council building in a small open area once used for public gathering. Everyone entering the main hall of the Council building would pass by it.

“With this monument we remind ourselves the sacrifices that have been made for all the things that make us who we are. In the uncertain times ahead of us we must all labor to do justice to the brave people immortalized behind me. We must ensure that the Federation they fought and died for does not fall into darkness and disappear from the universe.” The crowd of officers, Council members, media personalities and relatives to the fallen applauded as she stepped away from the podium and headed back toward the Council building.

With the ceremony over, people broke into groups and returned to their daily lives. For many, if not most of the people around, that meant doing what they could to repair the damage done during the coup. For some that damage would never be truly healed. Death was still as permanent as it had always been throughout history.

Shari and I were there with a few of our people as representatives of the Venture. With our impending departure from the system that evening we sent them on ahead to their duties aboard while we headed over to discuss some last minute issues with Captain Yadhav, who was going to command the Ventures escort squadron.

“Captain Sorenson, Lieutenant Colonel Nakhoda?” We turned around to face a young man. Tall, thin and handsome, with clothing that followed the latest fashions. It took me a moment to recognize him fully.

“Mister Lombardi. How are you doing?” I smiled at him remembering how disheveled he had looked last time I saw him. In the Presidents office during the battle.

“Very well, thank you, sir. Sir, the President asks if it would be possible for you and the Colonel to join her for a moment?” It was perhaps the most politely worded order I had yet heard in my life. Though I had no idea why the President would want to speak to us, we both agreed and followed him through the crowd, following the same path the President had taken a few minutes earlier.

The building was still undergoing repairs after the savage fighting. The seal of the Federation that was inlaid into the stone floor of the entrance was cordoned off while the gouges and holes in it were filled in and restored. The walls were strangely bare of their usual priceless works of art and historical artifacts, many of them ruined, while those that could be restored were being worked on. Hallways and rooms were marked with large notices warning of radiation hazards where certain heavy weapons had been used. Our guide avoided those areas as he lead us deeper into the building. We stepped into a lift car that ascended toward the top of the building.

The level we arrived at was one that had not been fought over. Its opulence and splendor were unmarred by weapons fire or explosions. The high, airy corridors that else where in the building were being rebuilt by skilled craftsmen were here as quiet and welcoming as they were designed to be. I recognized the Presidents personal residential level as soon as I saw it, having seen it in countless times in entertainment shows and documentaries.

Shari and I were led to a set of double doors, our guide knocked once before opening them and ushering us into a small library. Old fashioned bookshelves lined the walls, filled with archaic leather bound books. The floor to ceiling windows at the far end of the room gave a stunning view of the Paris skyline as they provided a backdrop for a cozy conversation nook. Seated in a leather chair was the President, who put down her PADD and stood up with a smile as we entered.

“Captain, Lieutenant Colonel. It is very good to finally meet you in person.” We both had braced to attention when we entered the room. She waved for us to relax as she limped forward to shake our hands. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” I responded, still unsure of what was going on. Very few regular officers would have been comfortable meeting with the President under any circumstances. The privacy shown in that we were the only three people in the room was yet another thing on my mind as I sat down in the sofa she had indicated with Shari.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I am afraid that we do not have a lot of time to speak. As I am sure you both can imagine I have much to do, with little time to invest in any one issue. Many of them being profoundly sad issues. The two of you are one of those on the other end of the scale.” She paused and smiled at us, clearly pleased at what she was about to tell us. “At the end of the month there will be another ceremony held at the Starfleet Academy. There I will participate in the ground breaking for the newest addition to the campus. A facility dedicated to the training of Marines. At the same time I will present you, Colonel with an award for your service.”

I glanced at Shari. She seemed to be as stunned at that as I was. “Thank you, ma'am.” She managed to say.

“It is no more than you deserve, Colonel. I have spoken to General LeMay and she has informed me that the Marines would appreciate the facility having the name 'Eric Morgan Hall'.” That name brought me back to a staircase in a shattered building on a backwater colony world. The walls were pockmarked by weapons fire. Rubble covered the ground, while dust and smoke filled my nose and mouth. For a moment I could smell the burning flesh and synthetics as I saw Private Morgan laying dead at the top of the stairs. He had saved my life at the cost of his own, and in so doing he had become the first Marine to die in the pursuit of duty.

I broke out of the memory as Shari covered my right hand with her left.

“Thank you madam President. That is a perfect name.” I nodded mutely in agreement to Shari's statement.

“The General told me you would approve. I would appreciate it if you, Captain would speak at the ceremony as well.”

“I would honored to do so, ma'am.” I responded.

“Excellent. Now I have one last thing on my mind before the two of you can return to your plans for the day that I have interrupted.” She stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves that lined the room, retrieving a polished wooden box before turning back to us. “Please come here, Captain and Colonel.” I had stood up as with her and now Shari and I walked over and braced to attention in front of her.

“I was given one more suggestion by general LeMay. By the time of the ground braking ceremony I just spoke of we will issue a new decoration for Starfleet and the Marines. As we have based Starfleet and the Marine Corp on those who went before us, so have our decorations taken inspiration from the same sources.” She opened the case in her hands and retrieved a small medal. A phaser rifle on a field of blue, surrounded by a wreath. After pinning it to the chest of my white dress uniform, she retrieved a second one from the box and pinned it to Shari's chest as well.

“This medal signifies that you have stood before the enemies of the Federation and defended it from them. That you did not flinch or flee. You are the first to receive this Combat Infantry Badge, for you have both been all that was hoped for when the Marine Corp program was initiated. Thank you for proving its worth and for protecting the Federation in its darkest hour.”



“How did your meeting with the President go?” I looked over at Lord Howard who was hiding a smile behind his tea cup.

“Don't you have people in place to tell you such things, John?” I returned his smile as he raised his cup in a salute to my point.

“Of course I do. I just wanted your impression. Specially about that shiny new medal she presented to you.” I glanced down at my chest and the new decoration that rested just above my com badge. It glinted in the Paris sunlight coming through the trees that surrounded the roadside cafe we sat at. Shari and newly promoted Vice Admiral Pelatier watched our discussion as they nursed their own drinks.

I took a moment to consider my answer, taking the time to look around at the traffic passing us by, both on foot and vehicles. Pictures flashed through my head as I considered everything I had seen and done to earn the small piece of glass and alloy on my left chest.

“I'm not sure why, John, but it just feels right. I have plenty of decorations from other actions. This one though, might have been my most expensive decoration.”

“I've always said that decorations need to be hard bought to carry any value.”

“I can only agree, John.” I looked around the table at Shari and The Captain. Stopping at Lord Howard. “So, what can Shari and I do for the both of you?”

The Captain smiled first at me before addressing Lord Howard. “I told you they would be suspicious, John.”

“And as usual you were right, Michael.” He shook his head gently. “Well, Jer, Shari. We mostly want to settle a few things with you before you ship out.”

“Settle, John?”

“Yes. Specifically your place in Section 31. As you both have seen, we are a bit more established than is generally known. We would like to keep it like that.” He held up his hand to forestall any objections. “I have no doubts that you will be discrete. You would not have been recruited if you were not trustworthy. In that way, among many others, we have an advantage over the old way of doing things. I just wanted to note that while we will keep the two of you on our lists as associates, we will not be in touch unless circumstances absolutely require it. The two of you have proven not only that you can be trusted, but that you are immensely valuable to the Federation where you are.”

I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of my coffee. “I assume we have no say in this?” I smiled at my superiors.

“Of course you do, Jer.” The Captain said. It was going to be hard to stop calling him that. “However, while you may not realize it or agree, the two of you together are perhaps the Federations most effective tools of this war. And the Federation faces such serious threats, that we would have to be insane to keep you from doing what you do best. Remember that Section 31 was founded and still exists to safeguard the Federation from any and all threats. Foreign and domestic. We may have taken that line from the old American empire, but it still rings true to this day.”

I looked over at Shari, who simply smiled back. “Looks like we are going to have our work cut out for us.” She said.



“Captain on the bridge.” Lieutenant Swanson called out as I stepped out of the turbolift with Shari. I waved the bridge crew back into their seats as I walked down to the captains chair. My new XO, Commander Sandra Roland stood up to move over a step. She still had a pronounced limp from having half of her left leg replaced only a week earlier. Despite that, she was in her regular good spirits, even going so far as to joke that the new leg would be much harder to break the next time she went skiing.

I sat down in the center chair while Shari took her place next to Marie at the tactical console. Next to me was Lieutenant Commander Delmonte, who greeted me with a nod and a smile. I looked around what had become my bridge at the new and old faces of my crew. Lieutenant Commander Alexei Yusupov was one of the new people on the ship. He had been recommended by Vice Admiral Pelatier, and was a good replacement for Sandra at the ops console.

I tapped open my own console and Matt came up on the screen. “How is everything down in engineering, Matt?”

“100 percent on everything, Captain. We are ready to head out as soon as you give the word, sir.”

“Excellent. Stand by for impulse.” A quick 'aye, sir.' was his answer before turning away to give orders to his people down in main engineering. I cut the screen and turned to my new ops officer.

“Alexei, contact the flagship and report our readiness for departure. Helm, plot a course to the rendezvous.” Alexei bent over his screen as he contacted Vice Admiral Pelatiers flagship. A newly constructed Sovereign, the USS Gustavus Adolphus.

“Course laid in, sir.” Lieutenant Sierra reported from the helm. He turned around in his seat to look at me. I looked around at the people on the bridge. Friends all that had supported and helped me through some of the hardest times of my life. Then, for a moment I saw the people we had lost.

Lieutenant Torrelino, at the helm, guiding us across the galaxy with a steady hand.

Private Morgan, watching my back while green fire filled a room.

Crewman Monaldi, furiously trying to pinpoint enemy positions while a great battle raged in the background.

Sergei. Lieutenant Commander, Councilor Sergei Grigorii. Once a close friend. Then a traitor to be hunted down, and finally, in the end. A tainted hero. Buried with honors bought for the highest price of all.

I looked back at Lieutenant Sierra at the helm. A sense of duty filling me. It was time to continue the work of making the galaxy a better place. The dead would accept nothing less.

“Take us out, Lieutenant.”

The End

---

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

Thanks - I've followed along since the start and am glad to see it brought to conclusion. I've enjoyed your writing, and you ably managed to keep things on track and focused - something that is quite difficult indeed regardless of subject matter. The story was very well developed, and I found that the characters grew and were consistently written.

Your time and the effort you clearly put into this story are appreciated.

Just like to say I've really enjoyed reading this and I'm particularly glad you've kept it going to the end!

---

"Fear is the mind killer"

http://royalthinking.blogspot.com/

So what's next? Volume two about the ongoing Klingon war? Seems there's an interesting plotline there that never got resolved.

Thank you all for your support. I would never have been able to complete this without it. This has been the first major piece of fiction that I have written, and it has been one hell of a learning experience.

Next is that I completely re-write the entire book and see if I can get it sold. No sense putting this many hours of work into something and not at least try to make some money off it.

There is a small chance that I might continue this story at some point, though I suspect it will be years until I get to that point. Who knows? Maybe I'll continue it as an anthology of shorts. I do have a bunch of ideas around that.

---

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

Looking forward to it! I only want to see the Klingon war plotline finished because it was the whole reason for the story...and we never knew exactly how or why it was started in the first place.