OK, a nice treat...Ch. 8 for all those keeping count...
Chapter 8: Command Decisions
Darth Nemesis stood at the head of the large conference table. Seated around the table were the captains of his fleet. 26 seats were filled, one was empty, the Captain of The Izman had been lost during their engagements with the Borg. The Star Destroyer captains sat together, nearest the head of the table, where Admiral Kittaine sat holding court. Captain Branna sat to his immediate right and to his left sat Captain Tarsi, who was eyeing Branna with barely restrained anger. Branna shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, deciding that perhaps his little joke at Tarsi’s expense had not been such a good idea at all.
“I will not lie to you, aside from the fact that I am sure that you have already found out the truth from your eyes in ears here on the Emperor’s Will. We are far from home and out of out time.” Kittaine began.
Some of the captains exchanged furtive glances.
“Nevertheless we are Imperial officers and we will act accordingly. Now is not the time to let discipline slip.” Kittaine warned.
“Admiral if I may.” a woman’s voice spoke up. Kittaine nodded.
“Captain Belladonna?”
Belladonna, captain of the Relentless, was the only female captain in the entire room, she was tall and lean, her dark eyes were always calm and cautious. She never spoke loudly, never tried to stand out from the crowd of commanders. Many that had served with her compared her to one of the great cats. She seemed quiet and lazy, but when the hunt was on she was a fury. Belladonna had come to accept the fact that she would not ascend much higher in the ranks, one of the few female star destroyer captains in the empire, she was resigned to never commanding a fleet or ascending to Admiral. However, she was a consummate professional officer and she absolutely refused to ply her charms to get ahead. Not that Kittaine would ever accept such offers, the man viewed them all as family. It would be akin to a beloved daughter attempting to seduce the father.
He had protected her and nurtured her on her rise up the ranks. She owed him much and would, as any other officer here, gladly lay down her life for the Admiral. As for the black clad boy that stood behind Kittaine…he was another matter altogether.
“If it is true that we have been flung 3,000 years into our future and far away from home, is there a point to this exercise of obtaining data from the Federation regarding wormholes and the like? Why not simply conquer this entire galaxy? The natives here are ridiculously primitive, we could destroy their assembled fleets in several engagements, and have a new empire to call our own.”
Several of the captains nodded their heads in agreement. Kittaine frowned.
“Let me answer that question. The emperor’s last message was an order to return as soon as possible so that we could join in a final battle that would destroy the rebellion. I intend to follow my master’s orders to the letter as should you all if you are loyal Imperial Officers.” Nemesis replied sternly, eyeing each commander in turn.
Some of the commanders grumbled, not taking kindly to the veiled insult.
“I was merely pointing out a possibility.”
“There will be time for conquest soon enough. But Lord Nemesis is correct. We must find a way back home. The probe droids we have dispatched in the last few days have begun transmitting. This galaxy, while large and open for conquest, is lacking in some very necessary materials for our technology to continue to thrive. Luckily, tibanna gas is rather abundant here, a byproduct of mining one of their most precious resources, a crystal called Dilithium, so our weapons systems will remain fueled, but there seems to be no raw materials for us to build more dura-armor. Neutronium forges are no where to be found. This will makes thing harder for us as time goes on. The technological base of our foes is such that we will spend decades trying to bring it up to a standard that we can be comfortable about.”
“First thing to go are those damned warp cores.” Tarsi spat. “Did you know that those things are prone to explode for any reason? The Federation ship I captured very nearly exploded before we could secure her and my technicians were forced to baby sit the damned thing until we got here and finally shut it down.” Tarsi complained, shoving a pen away from him to show his disgust.
“We ran across a similar problem when we fired the superlaser, their reactor system on the entire continent started exploding.” Branna added then instantly kicked himself as Tarsi openly glared at him from across the table. He just HAD to bring up the sorest point of all…Tarsi had missed the firing of the superlaser.
“In the end, we will eventually degrade down to their level, our systems will run down, our spare parts will run dry and we will have to start making due with what technology is readily available.” Kittaine added thoughtfully.
“By the emperor I will certainly not serve on a vessel that is essentially a flying bomb!” Tarsi exclaimed.
“I think we are all in agreement with Captain Tarsi.” Captain Jan-Her added. He was the commander of the Executioner and a life long friend of Tarsi’s. They went to the academy together, served on the same ships and now they captained vessels in the same fleet. He was the second part of the triumvirate as many commanders in the fleet dubbed them. The three finest stardestroyers in the fleet, given the duty of always taking the lead in battle.
“Our greatest concern becomes how then do we make for home? I do not relish hyperspacing for three thousand years and arriving six thousand years out of time.” Captain Vash added in a soft whisper. He was the third leg of the triumvirate. Commander of the stardestroyer Inexorable, he never spoke above a low whisper, some said that it was because of an old war wound inflicted by rebels, others said he simply did it for dramatic effect. If labels could be applied to these three capable commanders, Vash was the thinker.
“And I do believe that we have an answer to that problem.” Nemesis replied, waving someone in. Two stormtroopers escorted in Admiral T’Vok and Mara Jade. The stormtroopers snapped to attention and stood by the doors. T’Vok strode up to the table without fear and stood at attention, letting the assembled Imperial commanders stare at him for a long moment. He did not flinch from the attention, only noting a slight ripple of unease form some of them as they recognized that he was not human.
“Commanders, I present to you Admiral T’Vok of the Romulan Star Empire. He is the liaison of the Romulan government and I have just appointed him overall commander of all Romulan armed forces.”
T’Vok nodded to the assembled humans.
“I am here to serve.” he replied evenly. The shame of the defeat was still sending ripples through Command, hundreds of officers had committed suicide over the last two days. T’Vok was trying to stop the flood of such brash actions. He believed in the superiority of the Romulan people and culture, now this empire had arrived out of nowhere and taken from them that pride and sense of purpose and destiny. But T’Vok would not allow them to take his own personal pride. He could bend but he would not break.
“Admiral, please tell us what you told me.”
“There is a race that can help you in your quest for a wormhole back to your world.”
“Oh? I thought the Federation was our best chance at that.” Tarsi replied wanly.
“They are part of the federation and they would be the ones the Federation would turn to if they were confronted with the same question.” Some of the commanders were leaning in, listening more closely.
“They are a race of scientists, dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. They are the Federation’s scientist’s caste if you wish to look at it that way.”
“Odd, our current review of Federation records from the Thunderchild’s computer core does not indicate a caste system.” Branna interjected.
“The Federation likes to delude itself into thinking that it is something more than what it actually is, a benign dictatorship that classifies its citizens by the skills they seem to gravitate to. Humans are the warriors of the Federation for example.”
“So, you see, we have a resource to tap. Imagine an entire world of scientists, dedicated to one goal, finding a way back to the empire.” Nemesis declared.
“When do we begin?” Tarsi replied with a wolfish grin after a moment of silence from the assembled commanders.
Nemesis glanced down at Tarsi and smiled in return.
“Captain Tarsi, I have decided to give you the honor of leading the attack that brings this world under our domination.” Tarsi nodded to Nemesis, flashing Branna a smile.
“You and Captain Jan-Her will lead the attack on the planet, I will give you all the ground troops you need. There is one major caveat.”
“My Lord?”
“I want civilian casualties kept to an absolute minimum. I want the planet taken relatively intact, you are not authorized for orbital strikes against any facilities that are scientifically orientated, only military structures may be destroyed with impunity.”
There was a shadow of disappointment on Tarsi’s face that was barely perceptible unless one was looking closely before he nodded in agreement.
“Of course, my lord.”
“If I may ask, where will the rest of the fleet be while Tarsi is covering himself in glory?” Belladonna asked pointedly.
“We will be otherwise occupied, Captain. In reference to this, I want all commands to run battle readiness drills until further notice.” Kittaine answered. The commanders exchanged knowing glances and Tarsi started to look suspicious.
“You do realize of course, My lord that standard Imperial protocol calls for three Stardestroyers to be deployed for maximum effect during planetary assault?” Jan-Her asked casually.
“Indeed, I am well aware of standard Imperial policy, which is why I am giving you extra assets to assist you in the operations.” Nemesis replied coolly.
Tarsi looked up in interest.
“The Romulan fleet is going to make its first appearance as our allies in battle. The Romulans are familiar with the target area and the people so they will provide on site intelligence and advice. Their ships will also help plug any gaps that an extra stardestroyer would have done in their stead.”
Tarsi frowned slightly.
“I’m going on a planetary assault mission with provincial forces.” He muttered to Jan-Her who nodded slowly and eyed T’Vok disdainfully.
“How well do you know the target system?” Tarsi asked sharply.
“It has been the focus of many of our missions in the past. It will be a homecoming of sorts for us all.”
Tarsi nodded slowly.
“I am glad to see we are all in agreement.” Kittaine cut in, giving Tarsi a measured glance. Tarsi took the hint and quieted down.
Tarsi was a good commander, without a doubt his finest warrior, but he had the political and diplomatic sense of a stone. Tarsi was like the family’s favorite guard dog, ready to attack and pounce but knew much of nothing else. Kittaine still loved him like a son, there is no one else that he trusted more to guard his flank during a crisis, which was why he was unhappy with nemesis’ choice of Tarsi for the assault. The other mission was far more dangerous to the entire fleet and he would have been far more at ease knowing that the Adjudicator would be in front guarding the fleet as it always had.
“We shall begin briefing on the planetary assault mission, pay close attention admiral T’Vor, your fleet will be supporting Tarsi and Tarsi does not hesitate to wade into battle, he will need to be certain that you and your men know their part.” Kittaine announced. Tarsi nodded to himself. Kittaine always watched out for him, knew his concerns. Kittaine was letting him know in his far more diplomatic way that he agreed that Tarsi should not be attacking with a provincial fleet guarding his flank. But he was an Imperial officer and he did as he was told.
T’Vor nodded slowly, fighting the urge to scream at this human that he had led entire Romulan fleets into battle, how dare he treat him like a raw conscript. But he held in his anger, he lit it simmer and he watched, because in the end, there would be a final resolution to a question that had troubled his people for centuries.
Nemesis held out his hand and a hologram sprang up on the table. The commanders all focused on the yellow arid world.
“Commanders of the empire, I present to you our new target. The Federation world: Vulcan.” Nemesis declared.
“I can’t believe that they’re not killing us.” Jason Archer breathed. On the screen there were hundreds of cubes, spheres, tactical cubes, more ships than any Federatioon vessel had ever seen in one place.
“Seven?” Janeway asked from the science station, she kept one eye on the sensor readouts. They were gathering more information on this Borg fleet than any other starship before, even Voyager. The Borg were not bothering to jam them at all, in fact the Borg were ignoring them completely.
“A fleet of this size has never been gathered before as far as I know. The fact that they are ignoring us is telling. We are regarded as unworthy to even assimilate. We are not worth the energy or effort.”
“We’re one of the top line Federation warships, what is there about us not to assimilate?” Archer replied incredulously.
“It would seem to indicate that the Borg have found something else far more important or powerful to assimilate.” Seven replied with an arched eyebrow. He found himself staring at her a moment too long and turned away quickly.
“What do you think, Captain Janeway?” Archer asked.
She frowned slightly and looked down at her senor readings.
“I think that this is an intelligence coup for us. I’m getting data we never had before concerning the Borg. It is as if they have just turned all their attentions to their new target and we no longer exist.” She looked up at the screen. A transwarp conduit opened on the far side of the fleet and a dozen more tactical cubes flashed out, coasting to a quick stop. “But whatever it is, it must be powerful beyond belief. The Borg are not ones to worry about losses when it comes to assimilation. This new target must be nearly unassailable.”
“This fleet is larger than any single fleet that ever engaged species 8472.” Seven added, and eyed the captain curiously as he made a diligent effort not to look in her the eye.
“What in the world?!” Janeway exclaimed. On the screen several tactical cubes had slowly gathered together and now they were docking with each other, one tactical cube against the other. More tactical cubes began the docking process, stacking up on top of one another or sliding in to the side. Before long over 100 tactical cubes had merged together and there was an enormous single cube floating nearby.
“Power readings are off the scale on that cube.” Janeway reported, not believing what she was seeing.
Seven however looked more resigned than anything else.
“Do you know what that is?” Archer asked, noticing Seven’s lack of surprise.
“That is a Strategic cube. The Borg rarely need to create one, in fact it has only been created three time in the entire history of the Borg. The strategic cube is designed to obliterate worlds or subjugate entire quadrants. They are extremely power and drone intensive, the Borg have rarely seen need to create more than one or two, One is always on patrol near Unimatrix 001.”
“What sort of weapons are we talking about?”
Seven frowned.
“A tactical cube’s upper offensive capabilities have never been tested. I imagine them to be on the order of several hundred tactical cubes in offensive capability, if not more. The links between ships allow for a greater power generation capability through the use of subspace accelerators than the individual cubes combined.”
“So it’s not as if that strategic cube has the capabilities of a hundred tactical cubes, it is a quantum leap up in power and weapons.” Janeway added.
“Indeed.”
“This is not good.” Archer muttered.
“Why have you never told me this before?” Janeway asked seriously.
“You never asked.” Seven replied calmly. Janeway frowned. “The chances that we would encounter a strategic cube were infinitesimal. I saw no need to alarm you or burden you with useless information.” Seven added.
Archer stared up at the screen, chin resting on one hand, elbow on the command seat’s armrest. He breathed softly for a moment, weighing his next decision carefully.
“I think we should stay. The data that we are gathering is invaluable to the Federation. Who knows what this could lead to? Perhaps this new power is something we can deal with, something we can bargain with and maybe even form an alliance.”
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.” Janeway warned with a soft smile.
“Of course, Captain.” Archer sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.
“You could use some rest, you’ve had the con now for over two shifts. Whatever is going to happen, some sleep won’t hurt.”
“Would you have taken that advice if Voyager were in the middle of a Borg armada like this? With those…strategic cubes out there!” Archer replied, indicating the fleet on screen.
Janeway nodded sagely.
“When I was younger, no, but you have a captain here on the bridge right now that is relatively fresh, and I wouldn’t mind holding the fort for you while you grabbed some sleep. Besides, my sensors just picked up more than half the fleet going into regeneration mode. Whatever it is that they’re going to do, they want to be well rested for it.” Janeway replied and gently motioned for Archer to go to the turbolift.
“I’m doing this under protest.” He replied sardonically as he took one last look back at the screen. His eyes drifted over Seven for a heartbeat before he made his way to his turbolift.
“Your protest is duly noted.” Janeway called out after him as he leaned his head against the wall of the turbolift while the doors closed. Janeway watched the turbolift for a moment then looked over at Seven.
“Why do I get the feeling that the strategic cube should be more frightening to us?” she asked her.
Seven glanced back at the screen before answering.
“The fact that they have assembled a strategic cube and they also have this massive armada to assist it tells me one very important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Perhaps resistance is not so futile after all.” She answered.
The bridge of the Valhalla was immaculate and clean. The crewmen moved around in an odd clockwork like precision, odd until you noticed that they were all replicas of Data. The bridge stations of this Refit Sovereign class cruiser were more streamlined and centralized. The tactical station was by far, the largest of the bridge stations. A panoramic display was built around the station, giving the crewman a holographic 3 dimensional view of the battleground. All sensors were tied into the tactical station giving the crewman unparallel access to information on their target and location. There was no science station. This was a warship, plain and simple. This was not an odd compromise between science and war that had marked the development of Starfleet vessels since nearly the beginning.
Even the captain’s chair had small tactical displays at the ends of the armrests that allowed for a quick 360 degree view of all that was going on around his ship. He took quick note of the changes down to this new class of Sovereigns, or as Durant was found of saying, the “true” Sovereign, the way ity was originally designed before Starfleet got its hands on the design and tried to make it more, acceptable, to the Federation.
Instead of the single torpedo turret positioned under the primary hull, there were three such turrets, one slung under the main deflector dish, one sitting on the aft hull. It gave the Valhalla a definite boost in firepower. There were extra phaser banks placed strategically around the ship and the warp core he had inspected pumped out more power, power that was directed to the offensive systems. This vessel lacked the labs and family facilities that most Federation ships had. It was a weapon of singular purpose. Part of Picard was offended by the design emphasis. He truly believed that the Federation was different than many of their more belligerent neighbors. The existence of a ship of this kind made it seem like they were not so different as he wanted to believe.
“Are you sure about this?” Durant asked him. He was standing by Picard who was sitting in the command chair watching his “crew” commit final checks.
“Yes, I am Captain Durant.” Picard replied.
Durant eyed R-7 and leaned in close to Picard.
“They’re not designed to be…creative. They’re extremely limited in their roles. I have reservations about you taking one of the androids as a first officer.” He whispered.
Picard smiled.
“He is a familiar face, Captain.”
Durant frowned heavily but nodded.
“As you wish, captain. R-7 is fully briefed on all the new weapons and defensive systems we’ve installed. The fleet is gathering and we should be ready to launch in 1 hour.”
“I’ll be ready to Captain. Do we have any more information regarding your informants from Romulas?”
Durant nodded.
“It’s been confirmed by one of our deep range spy probes that the Romulan Empire has surrendered to this new enemy force. They are massively powerful Picard and they have a weapon of mass destruction that can crack continents with a single shot.”
“They could be more powerful than the Borg.” Picard breathed.
“That’s why I’m not charging in, phasers blazing.” Durant replied solemnly. Picard eyed him humorously.
“Really?”
“Let’s just say that I have taken the advice of a man far wiser,” he nudged Picard. “And older than I.”
Picard smirked.
“That is good news Captain. When the time comes, the Valhalla and I will be ready to join you.”
Durant smiled.
“I’m sorry about the name, captain, but the Shadow fleet’s founder had a thing about Norse Mythology.”
“I noticed. It could be worse, he could have enjoyed Aztec culture or all our ships’ names would be quite a mouthful.” Picard replied. Durant laughed and started to walk away, he paused and turned to R-7.
“Watch out for him, R-7. You have a big responsibility.”
“I am well aware of my responsibilities as first officer. I am the first of my model to be given this post. I shall endeavor to complete my duties to the best of my abilities.”
“I have no doubt, R-7.” Picard replied fondly.
“Captain, see you on the flipside.” Durant said and walked off the bridge.
“The flip side, Captain?” R-7 asked innocently.
“Not important, R-7.” Picard paused and smiled mischievously. “You heard everything he said about you, didn’t you?”
“My aural sensors are far more sensitive than the human norm. I’m sure Captain Durant did not mean for me to hear the words. I of course took no offense and in fact agree with him.”
“Oh?”
“I have downloaded a complete database of our tactical systems as well as tactical and strategic treatises and texts. While I can imitate any strategy that has ever been committed to writing, I have no facilities to create one on my own.” R-7 explained matter of factly.
“We never know what we are capable of until we experience it, R-7.” Picard replied warmly.
“I precisely know my limitations, Captain.” R-7 replied without hesitation.
“We shall see, R-7. Now let’s take a look at our fleet.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The view screen activated and Picard stared at the armada that was gathering behind his ship. The Valhalla was nearly dwarfed by the flagship of the shadow fleet, the Bunker Hill. Behind them, hundreds of starships were slipping from their gantries or berths. They were all dangerous, up gunned versions of their Starfleet counterparts, armed with 27th century technology and ready to fight for the Federation. Picard nodded to himself.
When the command came, the Federation would have to let slip the dogs of war and he had no doubt that when that happened, they would indeed be the Federation’s avenging angels, to use Durant’s metaphor.