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Okay everyone, consider this a parting gift. Tomorrow/today I'm moving out of the house, and for an undetermined amount of time, I likely won't have internet access of any kind. Could be weeks... could be months.


But to give you an idea of what I hope to do some writing on while I'm gone.... I present to you the second installment of the Federation Civil War series.

Enjoy.

(Naturally, Marina wrote Slyperia's lines.)


Just a mile or so away
is my dearest friend in this world.
He wears the blue and I the gray
and God it hurts me so.
The last time we were together
I took his hand and I pledged
'If I ever draw my sword on you
may the good Lord strike me dead."

- "Hold At All Costs; Gettysburg Day 2" by Iced Earth


Prologue



Kinnelroy Mountain Range, Tagus IV
United Federation of Planets
Universe Designate ST-3
24 April 2166 AST
16 November 2380 ST-3 Calendar


The Kinnelroys were the Alps of the Primary Continent of Tagus IV, a broad mountain range that crossed much of the continent's breadth. Which admittedly wasn't much, as it was also about the size of Europe, with the two secondary continents being more akin to large islands, complete with nearby island chains, and a number of island chains elsewhere. Only 15% of the planet's surface was above water.

Tagus IV had once been a wealthy part of the Poul Federation, a charter colony government of ten systems near the border of the Mid-Range Colonies and the Inner Colonies, and about as far from Earth as Belarus was. It produced excellent agricultural goods and had a decent manufacturing sector around the cities that dotted the areas of the major rivers, especially the Greater Polk Metropolitan area, where 10% of the planet's population lived and worked.
But the 24th Century had not been kind to Tagus IV. The major companies that dominated the agricultural and industrial sectors were broken by the Basic Necessities Act and the force of Federation government. Those that survived nationalizations went under from loss due to government prices. As the century went on thousands, in the end millions, of "Tagians" had left for the colonies further out, and Tagus IV's economy was crippled and squeezed dry.
Destitute, an increasing portion of the populace had taken up the Idealogue plank, and a new Idealogue government instituted it's own BLN system... as best as it could due to the system. And the small farmers who had escaped Federation notice were their source of foodstuffs for the new planetary system, and this created a growing strain on Tagan society between the pro-Idealogue urbanites and the anti-Idealogue ruralites, who rallied to secessionist movements and economic theories, the most popular being distributivism, or at the very least a regulated capitalism that favored small businesses.

The War enflamed passions. The Federation called for volunteers and the urbanites answered to a degree with volunteers for Starfleet and the Tagan militia. The ruralites answered differently and within the first months of the war they began actively resisting the planetary dues system. Food shipments to the cities tapered and stopped as the farmers held the bellies of their occupants hostage to their demands for political and economic reforms. Instead the Idealogue-dominated government of Tagus IV arrested the legislators from the rural provinces, imposed martial law, and sent their militias into the countryside to seize foodstuffs and arrest resisters. The farmers responded by raiding militia armories and a full-scale civil war touched off, with the countryside of Tagus IV becoming ever more desolated.


Kevin Rory was originally from the countryside himself and not entirely enthused with his new posting, the 10th Portertown Infantry, which was tasked with moving through Shannessy Province at the northern edge of the Kinnelroys. He was seated on a vehicle, phaser rifle in hand with replicated camo uniform, looking apprehensively about as the column of trucks carrying his company moved along the base of the mountains. Shannessy was a partisan stronghold, and the central government had recently ordered a series of retaliations where farming communities were searched and any homes with weapons or stored away grain or food, beyond the government-approved ration limit, were destroyed. Looking back he could see the smoke rising from the pleasant, almost hamlet-like town of Corkell. Partisans had attacked just there, and in response the company had ended up destroying nearly the entire town, and in some cases people within the building. He could still remember the little shops like the ones he'd known growing up, disappearing in a wash of phaser energy...

"Damn yokels, when will they learn that they mean jackcrap to growin' on their land?" he heard one of the men with him say. "They fight us and get themselves killed, we just give their land to someone else and the growing continues."
"I heard that south of the mountains, in Sligo Province, the partisans have actually been destroying crops," another voice, a female one, spoke up. The woman's hair was obscured by her helmet, as they were all wearing these days given the massive surpluses that the Alliance and other nations had dumped on the market following the Great War.
"So they're not happy trying to starve us to death? They gotta starve their own people? What a bunch of...."

There was a roar in the air that interrupted him, and the truck behind them exploded. "Mine!" one man shouted, and as he stood to jump over the side of the truck a phaser beam lashed out from the bushes above and struck him square in the chest. He fell over dead into the bed of the truck, landing in another man's arms.
At the shouts of the sergeant, Kevin jumped out of the truck and took refuge in the brush around the road. He kept his phaser rifle up and allowed his helmet's sensors to scan for nearby life-signs. He saw them scurrying around the mountain. His finger tensed on the trigger while a sickening feeling filled his gut, and he didn't even realize he'd pulled the trigger until an orange beam lashed out and grazed the rocks, vaporizing a thin gash in them.
He dived to cover in time to see the woman who'd spoken earlier go down, a phaser blast below the left breast. She was still breathing, if barely, and Kevin began screaming "Medic!" After a few more shouts and nothing happening, Kevin moved over to her, keeping his rifle steady to cover her. He might have some first aid....

He didn't notice, until too late, the object that flew overhead and landed right by them. By the time he recognized the grenade, it went off, and high-energy liquid plasma erupted from the device, covering him in it.


The debris of the battle was still smoldering when it ended. The government forces were forced to flee, and the guerrilas would themselves soon be returning to their mountain hideaways. A handful of them were tasked with stripping the bodies for rations, power packs, and other necessary things that were in short supply.
The leader of this detachment was Ralph Culley, a broad-shouldered farming type who had been trained by the Alliance as a part of the Warhammer divisions during the Dominion War. He was, in fact, the only real combat vet among the Tagan partisans, and a valuable resource to them, though he never let that keep him from doing what he thought he had to on the battlefield.
He saw a partisan rifling through the pockets of a dead female figure. He'd already pulled her rations off, but now he'd found a circular locket with a pair of small pictures inside. He went to pocket it, but Culley was on top of him by then, and kicked him in the elbow. "Hey, knock it off."

"What's your problem?!", the man shouted, the Irish accent that was prevalent among the northern regions of Tagus IV thick in his voice. Dark stubble had gathered around his chin and jaw, as shaving was not often possible where they were, and he was certainly as dirty as Culley and every other partisan. "She isn't gonna be needin' it, and I have a family to feed!"
"And she has a family that would probably like to have that back," Culley replied irritably.
"Like the bloody Idos won't take it for themselves."
"That's not our problem." Culley motioned on. "Now go see what's in that abandoned truck. If the power cell is intact we could really use it."

Sullen, the man did so. Culley went back to supervising when he heard a loud wail. He looked over to see another young man from his detail huddled over a pair of bodies that had taken the brunt of a plasma grenade. The boy was about 19 by the looks of him (and Culley suspected it was closer to 15 by the way the boy acted). He had something clasped in his hand, and had just now removed the helmet on one of the bodies, revealing the intact face of a young man. Culley's gut clenched as he walked up and the resemblence between the two causing him to have a terrible realization. "What is it, son?"
Jack McRory looked up, a picture of his family in his hand. "It's my brother Kevin." He looked down again and grabbed onto the plasma scorched body, weeping bitterly.

Culley kneeled over the kid, whom he was now certain was closer to 15 than 20, and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid."
"He should've never gone to the city!" Jack said. "He should've stayed home! Damn you Kevin! You should've stayed bloody home!" His fist pounded the hard soil beside his brother's body.


Starfleet Command, Earth
United Federation of Planets
Universe Designate ST-3
24 April 2166 AST
16 November 2380 ST-3 Calendar


It had been two weeks since Leyton had put his uniform on again. Milano had handed him operational control of Starfleet and he had employed that carefully, directing fleets to strategic positions and waiting to see if the Colonials would take the bait and overextend themselves. Already his first counter-offensive was being planned, directed at the Beta-side Colonies, with Admiral Slyperia to lead the attack.
The very thin but extremely tall Taloran woman came to the door, led in by Leyton's secretary. He regarded her closely, noting the changes she'd made to the Starfleet uniform to match more closely the Taloran ideal for one. He didn't quite disapprove. He'd been interested to talk with her, since the last two weeks had seen them kept apart by the affairs of duty with Leyton scrambling to stablize the situation and Slyperia helping to recruit more foreign personnel as well as making arrangements for her new command. Pouring a small cup full of clear liquid from a larger flask, with one already prepared for him, he looked to her and said, "Admiral, may I interest you in some Bolian tonic water? It calms the nerves."

Slyperia remained very silent at first, getting her read on the man before her who seemed very interesting, indeed. Imprisoned for treason and now released in the midst of a civil war? They're desperate indeed, and he must be very competent in turn.
"Certainly, Sir. I appreciate the gesture," she responded after a moment, her judgement having been made.

"Admiral, I've spent a great deal of time reading about the developments in the Multiverse at large during my incarceration, and I'm looking forward to working with you. I'm afraid that Starfleet's material on your race did not do your height advantage justice, for one thing," he said, a wry form of humor coming at the end there.

Slyperia sipped the tonic water he'd poured for her, musing on the varied sensations of taste, even as her ears, and perhaps her eyes, betrayed a genuine flicker of amusement. He was bold enough, too. "We find the sexual dimorphism of humans to be equally odd, I assure you," Slyperia answered with a very faint smile and an attentive straightening of her ears allowed as she set the glass down. "It seems we will have to be working very closely now to arrange staffing requirements to establish a detailed plan of strategic operations, when the enemy's offensives are yet in progress. A tense few days ahead, at the least... And you have spent the last few years, I am given to understand, in confinement?"

"Almost eight years, actually," Leyton answered. "Even when the Federation was threatened by the Dominion, the government didn't want me out. But I suppose that this war is far more threatening than the last. Instead of the Alliance being our quiet ally, it is our quiet enemy."

"Eight years..." Slyperia trailed off. It prickled at her sense of morality. "Humans are too fond of prisons by our standards. My species considers confinement inhumane, a... basic denial of sentient dignity. Of course, I won't confess the result would have been any better for you there than here. Worse, rather, though if your goals were noble it likely would have been a firing squad..." Her smile was wry, briefly, and more than a little forced, while her ears were more animated. "Which leads me to suspect, between my foreign origins, and your past history, that neither of us are trusted by the government we are now serving. Understandably." She looked at him as levelly as she could from the height disparity. "But can we at least trust each other?"

"I don't see why not," Leyton replied. It occurred to him that Slyperia was probably the only person he could trust, as she had nothing to gain by something happening to him. "I trust you've enjoyed your accomodations with the 1st Fleet?"

"Accommodations are excellent, with fewer problems than I had expected in settling my dhrima and confessor aboard the Admiral Senyavin," Slyperia answered, referring to the Federation II-class command ship of 15.5 megatonnes which served as the flag of 1st Fleet, a completely updated and modernized version of a design originally proposed to replace the Defender-class before Khitomer, the ship named after a Napoleonic Russian Admiral. "Though there's been some operational details which I've had to deal with, like drafting new protocols for anti-matter storage to disperse the pods for further safety. I can have them sent to you, of course." Her ears flicked. "Also, establishing proper watch procedures, and training for our new recruits, including drafting a revised list of authority for the non-commissioned officers. I have all the materials with me to submit for review. But most importantly, seeing to the morale of the fleet. Throughout Starfleet, after the loss by that incompetent, Janeway, morale is at rock-bottom, and the offensive spirit has been lost. And as a very dear mentor of mine said to me once, that is the only time when one needs to fear." Her ears flattened at that point, evident of some distress, before she continued. "I do have an idea, though, suitably stirring, from studying your histories.."

"I was thinking of a counter-attack on the Pacifican-led fleets that attacked Starbase 19," Leyton answered, "but I'm open to suggestions."

"Oh, I agree that's the first correct strategic move," Slyperia answered. "However, the instructions of Admiral Halsey on assuming command of operations on Guadalcanal in your great 'Second World War' would be suitable to be sent to every element of the Fleet, and the ground forces attached, to inform everyone that under our leadership we are prepared, and intend to, undertake aggressive meetings with the enemy and pursue offensive action. The enemy is overstretched, and it is time to punish them for their overconfidence. So let's tell the entire Starfleet what they need to know: 'Attack, repeat, Attack', as General orders." She smiled with her mouth open, a distinctly nasty expression on a Taloran, not dissimilar from a Klingon there.

"An interesting General Order to issue. And probably advisable with some exception. There are many sectors where offensive action could, at least, throw the Colonials off-balance," Leyton agreed. "We do have to be careful with dealing with their main battle fleet. Preferably draw them into a series of attriting engagements and look to eliminate the Alliance-provided ships as our priority. They have the shipyards to try and replace losses of our vessels, but there are no facilities in the Federation capable of replacing those ships."

"We have the real problem of facing a fleet with a severe qualitative superiourity in heavy elements to our own," Slyperia answered quietly. "I have been trying to rectify that, but I would be surprised if we can obtain even an eight of heavy ships from the Empire, though our export cruisers comparable favourably to your most modern Explorer-rate ships. At least we will be able to bring in mobile drydock facilities they won't be able to get for their Alliance vessels. So you're very right. We don't even need to do much damage... Hmm. Armed runabouts and what heavy fighters as we have can be assigned to mobile groups in battle as part of our general plans, to automatically attack the Alliance vessels when they begin to suffer shield breaches. Their targets will be any obvious hull protrusions; weapons turrets and sensors and so on. Electronics and guns alike will be very difficult for them to replace and will considerably reduce their effectiveness if unrepaired. And we need to start rigidly drilling our fleets for close-combat operations and extremely disciplined ranged fire, including a more aggressive use of fire coordination.... Even tight-beam lasers, un-jammable, can be used to concentrate the fire of multiple ships in a tight line or wall formation against a single enemy vessel. We can use line-ahead and wall-ahead to take advantage of our frontal firing arcs, rather than broadsides, and it should still work fine."

"I'll have you make the necessary tactical suggestions with my name on the orders," Leyton agreed. After considering his water for a minute, he asked, "What do you think of our domestic situation? Of the leaders in charge at the moment?" Sensing how she might take that, he raised a hand in a warding gesture. "I'm not about to try and repeat history, I just want to know where you stand. Officer to officer."

"There is no reason to depose Ovnork, as he has no power," Slyperia replied bluntly. "The Alliance for Federation Unity is now positioned to gain all power in the state. Wilmington controls the President, or executes the orders of those who do. For once your state has in the AFU a body which could establish a healthy and stable state. The danger, Sir, is that they will overplay their hand, and prove unable to control their own creations. Are they capable of restoring the Federation? Are we? Absolutely, Admiral." Slyperia's ears flattened back, this time, as she looked across to her senior, and counterpart. "My greatest fear is that in victory they will forget that to restore the federation, the peoples they have conquered.. Must also be part of the federation. If clemency is not shown to the average person in the colonies, then all our work could be undone. If not by the remaining colonies themselves, then by other powers, inclined to make their judgements on moralistic principles.... By the Alliance."

"But you are confident in our victory in the field?"

"War is uncertainty," Slyperia clasped her hands together in what was an earnest gesture among Talorans. "But we both know that, and, frankly, my presence speaks to all that needs to be spoken to. I'm here--ignoring all the polite things I have said to your politicians--for a challenge. It is one I believed that both this military and myself were up to." A nod was allowed, Slyperia proving a quick mimic of human gesture, if awkward, and her eyes focused in on her counterpart once more. "Yes, Admiral Leyton. We'll hold the field at the end of the day. We have everything we need to do it. Now we just need to start putting it all in the right places."

Leyton nodded at that. "I feel confident as well, but not entirely confident. Don't underestimate Ben Sisko. I once did, and that's much of the reason for why we're here right now."

"He is a very respectable opponent," Slyperia answered with a voice the translator carried as almost lilting, melodic. "But I have been viewing the records of Gamma Selkis for at least four hours a day since arriving, and... He is an incredibly inspirational and brave leader, Admiral Leyton, with high intelligence and great cunning. There is only one of him like that in a generation. But he was never trained to be an Admiral. The Federation.. Has no regular and systematic plans of fleet operation. We will implement then, and when we do, the Admiral commanding a fleet will see that fleet as an extension of her body. Sisko will find his general directives sorely lacking against such a disciplined force. He will fight hard even so, and we'll suffer much to him. But if we keep the pressure on, we won't give him the chance to learn from his mistakes. He has already made them, even in his victory against Janeway... And when I meet him in battle, I'll show it to him."

A good beginning. I'll wait for the rest, may you remain alive for write it (it could be a problem, if we consider the Trekkie...).

Looks very good. Personally, for the 'rebels', I would have only grown enough food for each individual family, thus making sure that if the people receiving the BNA benefits also get to work for them.

Let them feel the fun of working for their benefits, and their attitudes might change a bit.

Steve's been doing a wonderful job with this, yeah, and I've been glad to help where I can. Hopefully he'll be back much sooner than he expects, but if not I'm sure there will be plenty of people waiting all the more. He'll certainly be safe; Steve is a guy you would not want to meet in a dark alley. *grins*

Chris and I are going to start working on State of Siege now to keep the universe alive and healthy, and expect me to do some limited What Price Peace updates, and continue regular chapter updates of When Two Worlds Collide, so the TGG continuum is definitely not on hiatus.

Coalition wrote:Looks very good. Personally, for the 'rebels', I would have only grown enough food for each individual family, thus making sure that if the people receiving the BNA benefits also get to work for them.

Let them feel the fun of working for their benefits, and their attitudes might change a bit.

Well, if the system were designed to benefit everyone equally, they wouldn't be having a civil war over it.

Love these fics... hope to see an update soon.

fb111a wrote:Love these fics... hope to see an update soon.

For shamelessly getting everyone's hopes up, you shall burn in the eternal fires of hell.

Master_Baerne wrote:

fb111a wrote:Love these fics... hope to see an update soon.

For shamelessly getting everyone's hopes up, you shall burn in the eternal fires of hell.

Now now now, be nice.

I can still see my readers misbehaving via library, after all.

Steve wrote:

Master_Baerne wrote:

fb111a wrote:Love these fics... hope to see an update soon.

For shamelessly getting everyone's hopes up, you shall burn in the eternal fires of hell.

Now now now, be nice.

I can still see my readers misbehaving via library, after all.

M'lord Steve, I have no idea what that meant. Please write more of the story.

Steve indicated in a separate thread that he's only rarely able to get online via the library due to RL stuff.

Falkenhorst wrote:Steve indicated in a separate thread that he's only rarely able to get online via the library due to RL stuff.

Ah. Thank you.

U.C.S. Indefatigable, Gamma Poktaris System
United Federation of Planets (Colonial Territory)
Universe Designate ST-3
26 April 2166 AST
18 November 2380 ST-3 Calendar


The Indefatigable and the Colonial Battle Fleet were stopped in Gamma Poktaris, at the edge of Sector 70, as part of Sisko's half-hearted advance into the Federation. He was seated in his war room, observing the advance, and growing increasingly discontented with the situation. The Colonial fleet had not emerged unscathed from the prior confrontations, and their gains in territory were not being equaled in material gains. Aside from some of the first systems and facilities to fall, the Colonials had only found destroyed dockyards, ravaged factories, and denuded worlds in their wake. Colony after colony explained the Federation's turn to scorched earth tactics; any factory with the slightest value was dismantled and carried off or destroyed, any facility that couldn't be disassembled in time was similarly either destroyed or at least rendered unusable by sabotage, and even individual colony citizens were abducted forcefully by Starfleet Security and the Federation Militia if they had the slightest knowledge of shipyard operation or weapons manufacture. Unable to hold the territory, the Federation was doing its best to render it of no use to the Colonial forces, the local economies be damned.

Sisko was still smoldering from the report of the widespread destruction of an entire city on Uvart - where the local Centauran population was living in camps now because of the sabotage efforts causing the city's destruction and the deaths of hundreds of civilians - as fleet updates were brought to him. Sector 68 was being secured, fleet skirmishes in Sector 29 on the Beta-side were becoming hotter with the Federation's resistance increasing exponentially against Pacifican probes, Federation resistance in Sector 74 was coming to an end with their defeat in a battle at Rupa.... The Colonials were winning from all appearances, but Sisko didn't fully believe it. The Federation was going to counter-attack; they had far too much remaining strength not to continue fighting, considering the lack of a war-crippling uprising that the other Colonial leaders had been expecting and, Sisko suspected, counting on. And the more the Colonial fleets advanced the more they became stretched out, their numbers insufficient for the volume of space they were trying to control and with logistics complicated by the lack of drydock facilities and nearby production of fuel, equipment, and everything else necessary to keep a starship fleet in high-readiness.
The door opened and Dax and Worf entered. Sisko could tell they were not in a pleasant mood, no better than he felt at the moment. "Commanders," he said in a reserved tone. "I trust the scouting went well?"
"The 8th Fleet retreated past Delgen and it looks like they're giving up all of Sector 65," Dax answered. "They didn't leave empty-handed. They forced the evacuation of Delgen's asteroid mines and blasted the facilities afterward, and hauled the workers away with them. And they took the torpedo factory on Karven apart. From the calls we got, they even confiscated half of the transports in the area, anything over 500,000 tons capacity."

"Milano is keeping the territory from being of any use to us. He's giving us the choice of stopping and giving him breathing room or continuing the pursuit and becoming more isolated from supply." Sisko sighed. "I'm going to cut the orders tonight to halt and ask the Colonial Congress to send funds and personnel to begin restablishing bases. Hopefully they're getting wise to the AFU's control of the Core Worlds and the lack of an anti-war movement and will stop trying to press us further." When he was answered only by nods, he added, "Is something else going on?"
"Nothing directly related to our problems," Dax answered. "But Worf got a message from Martok. Things aren't going so well in Ferengi territory..."
"The Klingon invasion has faltered, you mean," Sisko answered. "I'm not surprised. The Romulans laid the bait down and Gowron snatched it up. I'm sure the Romulans will also be behind whatever coalition of Ferengi parties puts an end to their civil war to use them as fodder against the Klingons. A legitimate resistance they can back and then slowly subvert."

He saw some looks between the two. Dax and Worf were very, very much in love, and had been since the start, but that hadn't kept them from their share of arguments. Sisko was certain Worf was thinking more and more of returning to Quo'noS to help Martok in whatever way he could and only that sense of honor of his, combined with Dax's insistance of not even considering asking to leave, kept him from speaking up on such thoughts. "Unfortunately, there's little we can do about that right now," he said softly. "We have our own war to fight, and I'm beginning to think our success this month is a bad thing in the long run. The Federation isn't folding, but they're not fighting back yet either. They're up to something..."
"Actually, Ben, you might want to see this." Dax handed him a PADD. "We got that message as we were returning. We couldn't tell the origin, but it appears to be from sympathetizers on Earth."

Sisko tapped the PADD to bring up the display and there was a slight intake of breath at the image he was met by. "They've freed Leyton," he mumbled. "This is Milano's doing. Ovnork would never have done this on his own..."
"They're restoring him to Chief of Starfleet Operations," Dax continued. "You have to admit that it's a gutsy decision."
"Perhaps. But I've always suspected that Leyton had allies that remained hidden when he tried to overthrow the government. And Admiral Milano was Operations Chief of the Romulan Frontier at that time, someone who would have easily been able to help Leyton if he succeeded in seizing Earth." Sisko looked down. "If only I'd not overlooked that then, maybe Starfleet could have taken care of Milano back then...."

"So you think that Milano has nothing to fear from Leyton because he was involved in the last try," Dax replied.
"I wouldn't put it past him," Sisko replied. "Leyton's not the one who worries me, though. She is."
Sisko tapped a key on the table and the holoprojector brought up a 3D profile. The figure was clearly alien, if humanoid, thin and with long ears. "Admiral Slyperia Countess Ughamir. An admiral of the Taloran Navy, former Chief of Staff to their most famous naval hero, and a controversial figure that was forced to retire after 'the Istegard Incident', which this report has seemed to have blacked out." Sisko looked up at the alien figure, having seen Dax and Worf looking over her closely. "They've given her the 1st Fleet and are using her to recruit reservist Taloran officers."

"The Taloran Empire is backing the Federation?" Dax asked pointedly. "Then the Alliance..."
"The intelligence report I was given indicated that the Taloran government has no real say in this. Because of their lifespans the Talorans have a long history of allowing officers forced into the reserves due to seniority issues to seek service elsewhere." Sisko breathed out a sigh. "Still, it is a troubling situation. We may have done too well a job of defeating the Federation these past months. They're growing desperate, and the help they're looking for is very good."

"While the Alliance isn't giving us the backing we were hoping for," Dax added wistfully. "You'd think a figure like Dale, used to dealing with the Federation, would know better than to think they can sit this one out."
"The Alliance has concerns outside of the Alpha Quadrant, much as we'd like to believe otherwise." Sisko shook his head, and for the moment didn't share his suspicion that the report on Slyperia had come from Alliance Intelligence - he'd read enough of their reports during the Dominion War to know the hand of an AID analyst when he saw it. "I'm afraid we're going to have to win this war on our own."

Yay! Steve's writing again!

And it's like The Empire Strikes Back, except with Star Trek, and we get to see the rebels knowing they're in trouble before getting thrown into the middle of the trouble.

Yes! It's BACK!!!!

Confederacy Assembly Building, Karlvor
Confederated Republics of the Maquis Worlds
30 April 2166 AST
22 November 2380 ST-3 Calendar


Situated in a sliver of space between the territory of the Cardassian Republic and the United Federation of Planets, the Maquis Confederacy had drawn its name from its founders, the group of ex-Starfleet personnel, planetary militia, and private citizens who banded together and found a guerrila war against the Cardassian Union as the Maquis. Their flag told more of their mentality than anything, as it portrayed a red, blue, beige, and white quadcolor set under a shield that had two objects; a hand-plow and a rifle. The Confederacy's motto was the blunt "Don't Tread On Me", inspired more by the President of their Constitutional Assembly enjoying 20th Century Metallica than the American Revolution's slogans. Unlike any other UFP offshoot state they maintained universal conscription, determined to always be armed for their own defense despite enjoying a defensive pact with the Alliance, a sponsor covert and then overt of the Maquis almost from the first day of their existance.
The President of the Confederacy was Matthew Holger, a Starfleet veteran who had left to back the Maquis, and barely escaped in late 2159 when the Jem'Hadar flooded the area. He had been elected in a rather close contest, and there were perhaps better candidates; among the Maquis worlds the winners of elections tended to be those with the most public exploits against the Cardassians or Starfleet. He'd only barely won, and his election over Rugal Tektol was mostly because the Tellarite had been the Maquis cell leader who'd decided to truss up Michael Eddington and leave him in a drifting pod for Ben Sisko to find once Sisko had poisoned a Maquis world (Eddington's escalation of the conflict with bio-chem warfare had not been popular among the cooler-headed Maquis leaders; unfortunately for Rugal's political aspirations, however, betraying Eddington hadn't been well received by many of the rank and file.)

Because they were racially and culturally diverse, the planets and even subdivisions of the Maquis Worlds had opted for a loose confederation of republics, all of which had a fair degree of power. The decentralized state was in many ways a direct response to a long memory of abuses from the more centralized governments of the Federation and Cardassians; anything more centralized couldn't have won the support of some of the planets. The Republic of Karlvor had been chosen for the capitol, as they had a roughly central spot in the space of the Confederacy and their world was one of the least damaged by the fighting in the Alliance-Federation offensive that liberated the region. The city of Juvol was picked to house the Confederacy's legislative offices, while the nearby city of Puge was the home of the executive offices and judiciary (the two cities were split by the Guvo River, much like Minneapolis-St. Paul or Buda-Pest on Earth). The democratic Assembly was the sole body of government, as a two-house arrangement had been defeated by a belief that it was unnecessary for such a weak central government. The President also had wide powers, while the Assembly elected a Speaker who was considered second-in-line to the President. It was an unwieldly government, but the Maquis were not a government-minded people, and preferred unwieldly government to one that might be more capable of directing use of power.

The Assembly had since gained a reputation for violent outburst and catcalls. Party differences had begun to emerge, driven along the old fault-lines of colony-level politics and devotion to the war against Cardassia. A coalition controlled the fractious government, a combination of the militant-centrist Confederate Solidarity Party, the right-libertarian Liberty Party, the agrarian-populist Farmers' Solidarity Front, the militant Veterans' League, and the left-libertarian Free Labor Party, a coalition that was directing a policy of encouraging non-corporate free market economics, freeholding farmers, and worker-management co-ops along distributivist lines. But the other parties - the Peoples' Rights Party, the Democratic-Socialists Party, the Democratic Party, the Republican-Democrats, etc - all had seats from their planetary constituencies, with the ruling coalition only controlling a literal majority of four seats in an Assembly of six hundred. In this arrangement tempers ran high, personal and partisan rivalries waxed hot, and at any time a brawl might erupt not unlike those that once effected Maquis cells.

The assemblyman on the floor was for one of the minority parties, the Confederate Popular Front, which espoused a particularly violent anti-Fed and pro-Colony platform that appealed even to the leading parties of the coalition, particularly the Veterans' League. Groln Suvol was a fiery Andorian man with an artificial eye, visible wounds from Cardassian security force torturers, and a gift for demagogical speaking. A citizen of the interracial Suvaris VII Republic, Suvol had familial and personal ties to citizens of the Yugol VI colony that was still part of the Federation, though in open revolt like all other colonies in the region. An Andorian combat knife was visible through the bulge it had on its jacket, a violation of the no weapons rule that a number of the Assembly ignored when it suited them - if he could get away with it Suvol would have been carrying a gun instead, likely his prized AK-90 - and a gesture of martial pride. His accented voice had a harsh, loud quality to it, rumbling like thunder through the Assembly. "For ten years we have been split from our sister worlds. Planets and systems where relatives and friends still dwell! Split by the perfidiousness of the Federation and the brutality of the Cardassian Union! One of these foes has fallen; the other remains! And we must no longer permit them to keep us divided! The invitation to our sister worlds to join the Confederacy must be made no matter what the lawyers may say! Vote now, and if it means war with the Federation, than it shall be war with them! It's not like we haven't been at war with them before!"
A roar of approval came from various parts of the Assembly. Very few disagreed fully with him, but neither was their support guaranteed.

The next speaker was a Democrat, Kristina Pullman. Another ex-Starfleeter, Pullman was a staff officer and most of her Maquis service was in managing supplies, though she'd seen a fair bit of combat. "Maybe Suvaris is better off than Fredsham," she said, referring to her own home constituency. "Maybe they've rebuilt their cities, raised new factories, repaired their environment from the Dominion's rampage. Maybe they've even managed to rebuild their population, get immigrants, that kind of thing. But I know Fredsham hasn't. And I know many of our other worlds haven't either. Five years is a long time, almost as long as we spent fighting the Cardies, but it takes more time to build things than to destroy them."
"How big is our fleet again? Twenty, thirty cruisers at the most? Broken down old Starfleet frigates to round out those mothball specials we got from other nations in the Multiverse? Actually, strike that, I actually heard we're close to finishing the refurbishing of an Alliance escort carrier, with its grand combat wing of thirty starfighters! A centerpiece for our fleet!"
"How many divisions do the Republics have again? Counting all those seventeen year olds pretending they're eighteen to get into the Confederate Army early, of course. Fifty, wasn't it? And half of them are using AKs that we dragged out from our caches or got off the Bajorans. And we have a whole armored division with modern tanks - a whole division! - not counting the fact that only a third of it is active at any time due to parts shortages." The sarcasm and mock joy was rolling off every word coming from Pullman as her supporters nodded and Suvol's growled. One called her a 'desk-bound bitch', and another screamed for her to shut up, and the bangs of the Speaker's gavel did little to stop the tumult. "What's the point in this exercise? To piss off the Federation? We do that simply by flying our flag and using their flag to wipe our asses with. Our sister worlds will join us in time, if they want to, and if the Colonies win this war. And given the thousands of ships Starfleet still has in operation, I doubt...."

A punch was thrown then. Not at Pullman, surrounded as she was by the main body of Democrats in the room, but by Kel Gullo of the Veterans' League against Yugo Plannik of the Democratic-Socialists. Yugo had made an unkind remark about Gullo's war record following Gullo's catcalls against Pullman, and the Maquis veteran and former Eddington loyalist had replied by punching the offender. A scuffle began to break out, and it was only calmed when one of the more respected members of the Confederate Solidarity Party broke them up.
Standing tall among the others, Calvin Hudson intimidated them with his honored record of service, both in Starfleet and the Maquis. He had narrowly escaped death numerous times in the war, and had been one of the last Maquis leaders to leave when they were evacuated from the waves of Jem'Hadar that abruptly ended their first attempt to create their own state. "Both of you knock it off," he said, and when Gullo resisted a bit Hudson flattened him with a single punch. A glowering look at Yugo and his fellow "DemoSocs" cowed them, and Hudson nodded to Pullman to continue. She did, finishing her argument in opposition to Suvol's on the basis that the Confederacy had no means of fighting the Federation, which it would have to if it incorporated the new worlds, and that the temporary setbacks of the Federation did not mean its imminent defeat.

Now Hudson took the floor, with the permission of the Speaker. "Suvol and Pullman are both right," Hudson declared. "Suvol's right that we should allow our friends to join us, and restore the bonds that were ripped up. Pullman's right that we don't have the necessary force to deal with the Federation if things turn bad and we have to protect our sister worlds."
"We've worked hard to get here. We've rebuilt the hopes the Cardassians and Jem'Hadar destroyed, and we got our freedom. And we have to think about how much we're risking if we're wrong. Now, I know Ben Sisko" -and that name brought a curious mix of emotions, as Sisko had been an implacable enemy of the Maquis and was despised by most of those not advocating throwing their lot in with him - "and I think he can win this war. But do you want to risk everything we've gained on a gamble that the Federation won't recover. And mark my words, it can. I was back on Earth recently, as you know. I've seen the AFU rallies. I've read their words. These aren't the same people who sold us up the river to the Cardassians. They know that their way of life is threatened if the colonies get away. And they'll fight on until they can't anymore. So ask yourselves.... do you want to risk this all?" Hudson gestured around the room. "And do you want to give the AFU a chance to force us back into the Federation?"

A voice called out, from the numbers of the Veterans' League, "What happened to you, Hudson? You were one of the first officers to join us."
Looking at the source of the voice, Hudson chuckled and gave a slight grin. "Guess I got old," he joked, and the Assembly shared a non-partisan roar of laughter. Hudson promptly relinquished the floor.
Another hour passed, with four more speakers debating the issue, and finally a vote for cloture was made possible when the Veterans' League and Farmers' Solidarity Front, along with portions of the other parties, relented to make a vote on the measure. The votes were tallied.
And there were cheers across the room when the tally showed the result of 339 Ayes, 264 Nays.
It was appropriate enough that the next measure debated was digging into the shallow treasury of the Confederacy to help beef up military preperation.

Good work. Now, I have two question:
1)what the Colonial flag looks alike?
2)when the Maquis created their confederation, and how they managed to do it?

lord Martiya wrote:Good work. Now, I have two question:
1)what the Colonial flag looks alike?

Haven't decided.

2)when the Maquis created their confederation, and how they managed to do it?

It was founded in 2161, after the Alpha Quadrant phase of the Dominion War, under Alliance aegis. Basically, after the surrender of the Cardassian Union, those worlds were released from Cardie control, and the Federation had already ceded legal claim to them, so the Maquis began setting up their own government. The Federation probably bitched a little, but they didn't go beyond that with the Maquis enjoying the tacit support of the Alliance.

D.N.S. Enterprise, Ramannjha All-Imperial Settlement Zone
Taloran Star Empire
Universe CON-5
3 May 2166 AST
25 November 2380 ST-3 Calendar

Official Order by the President of the United Federation of Planets
Date: Stardate 56483

Due to the current state of rebellion in Federation territories and accompanying breakdown of law and order, the Federation hereby orders the closure of all ports in territories that are not under Federation control. This declaration is to persist until the end of the current state of emergency.

Signed,

Ovnork Re'kwish
President of the Federation Council

The announcement was a small one and took up just one screen on President Dale's PDA. He was seated at the head of the table in one of the Enterprise's conference rooms with personal staff, the carrier and her escorting divisions of a heavy cruiser, a light cruiser, and two destroyers about to cross the Taloran frontier into unclaimed space. The header on it was from the ASA, not the Foreign Ministry; the fact that Bronson had made sure he got a copy when Wells was undoubtedly being more laid back on it told Dale something of what to expect when he returned to Washington.

He'd been prepared, for quite a while, on such a development, particularly after Empress Saverana had mentioned it at dinner. Their conversation on the situation regarding the Federation had been reassuring to a degree; the Talorans did seem to appreciate the delicacy of the matter, and were certainly not politically invested in the issue. Unfortunately, what they were allowing - Federation purchase of privately-built warships, hiring of reservist Taloran officers - would be easily construed in the Alliance and elsewhere as Taloran aid to the Federation. Aid that would unite the anti-Federation and anti-Taloran blocs in opposition to any policy by Dale to reduce or eliminate the flow of militarily-valuable goods and supplies to the Colonials.
There were a number of ways Dale could approach the problem. His pledge to the Empress had ruled out direct military intervention. The Federation had politely but firmly rebuffed offers at mediation from all parties so far. This left neutrality, with varying degrees of fairness and benevolence toward either side. Currently the ADN traded with both, for the most part; ADN merchants still sold goods to the Federation and the Colonials had not interfered with this traffic. Trade with worlds that had aligned with the Colonials also continued and would likely not be stopped by this political maneuver by Ovnork and his handlers. When he returned the De Silva Resolution, appropriately modified, would go up for vote again. Dale could try and convince the Federalist Party to stand firm in support of it, or he could allow it to be defeated again to prove to those members of his party who supported the neutrality view that the measure was too unpopular, and too likely to be blatantly ignored, to continue pushing.

There were so many variables to consider, as well as distractions: nagging little problems in VCG-34 with the Zohan/Kalderi "Stronghold", Prantonese terrorism in CON-5, the failed Klingon invasion of Ferenginar in ST-3, the rise of the Scirocco faction in GA-18's Earth Federation.... As always, many developments, real or potential, had to be considered due to their potential effects upon Alliance interests and security. He could not let himself get focused on just one crisis in the Multiverse, no matter how greatly it loomed.

A staff member posed a question to him regarding the schedule upon return, and Dale gave a short reply before returning to thought on what policies to follow regarding the Federation Civil War. There were many possibilities open - as well as many pitfalls - and the choices he made might very well determine the outcome of the Federation Civil War, and beyond that, effect the future of the Alliance and the Multiverse as a whole.

Well, I thought about adding more to this, but I'll just post it as now.

And I gave a trio of chatniks something they wanted.

The Union flank's in trouble
To the Round Top on the double
A bad decision, insubordination
Exposed our line in a dangerous way

The burden lies upon us
Surrender is not an option
We are the flank, and if we break,
the Union crumbles we could lose the war!

Down below's the carnage
The Rebels charging onward
Push the slaughter forward, the peach orchard
Through the wheat field and Devil's Den

The valour of the Texans
And Alabama's best men
They're Unrelenting And Devastating
The Last Full Measure of Devotion's clear!


- "Hold At All Costs; Gettysburg Day 2" by Iced Earth


Chapter 1 - The Tides of War


Martinville, Pollock VI
Sector 61G Commonwealth, Disputed Territory
9 May 2166 AST
1 December 2380 ST-3 Calendar


The 22nd Andor Volunteers were a farm regiment in the Andorian Army, attached to the illustrious Imperial Guard as a test unit for Level 2 applicants to the Imperial Guard Academy. Young men and women like Ruhronn Shugorl were sent to the unit if their applications showed promise but there were no available slots in a class. And as much as Ruhronn wanted to be an Imperial Guard, the assignment promised the chance to see combat faster, a chance he was swift and happy to take.

He was with Fradk Company, Platoon 1, attached in a squad with five other young Andorians, all young men of ages 18 to 22. They were trudging through the ruins of Martinville, a medium-sized town on the disputed world of Pollock VI. Sector 61 had been a battlefront in the war since nearly the beginning, a Colonial salient into the Federation until the defeat of Gamma Selkis sent the Federation into retreat. The Federation was not abandoning it despite those setbacks, and was feeding new units into the front as fast as they could be raised.
Ruhronn had never seen a Human town like this before. The colors of those buildings intact enough to remain standing looked a little bright and diverse compared to what he was used to, and the numbers by street were different from the grid-based addresses on Andor. He trudged along in body armor, an Andorian plasma rifle slung over his shoulder and kit in his belt and pack. The helmet was designed to accomodate the sensitive antennae on his head, but it still felt a little uncomfortable nevertheless. But such was the lot of a soldier, and Ruhronn did not regret it.

His squad entered an intact apartment block that had been hit by a shell during the fight in and around the town. The rooms were mostly empty, as the town's inhabitants had fled during the fighting. There were goods here and there that other units in the Federation Militia might have helped themselves to, but the 22nd was made up of Imperial Guard aspirants, soldiers too disciplined and committed to indulge in petty looting (or so Ruhronn liked to think).
"We've got someone here!" a voice called out, and Ruhronn and two others came to respond. Jora was a teenager still, a bit bright-eyed, and trying to fulfill a family legacy of Imperial Guard service. Ruhronn wasn't sure he'd make it but never said that to his face. The young man was over a body, an old human male with dark skin, almost ebony in shade. Gray fuzz was on the top of his head as the only hair visible on him. Jora's hand was on his neck. "I don't feel a pulse," he said.
"That's not where you feel for Humes," Ruhronn's fire team partner, Korv, remarked in irritation. Trained as a backup corpsman, he bent over and put his fingers on a different section of the man's neck. "He's dead. Been dead for awhile."
"Think the shell got him?", Ruhronn asked.
"Nah, body's too intact. Given his age, I figure the shell going off caused the poor old fellow heart failure or something."

Jora had wandered away from the body at that moment. He was looking at something in the corner. "What's that?" He pointed to something partially under some debris, including shards from the shell.
Ruhronn looked over and saw a tail of something under it, a gray and black furred tail. Jora removed the debris and found a four-legged creature of some size, about half a meter or so length. It was not moving and had clearly been crushed by the debris, as had its young gathered around its belly. Jora moved a hand down and said, "I hear something." Moving the hind legs of the creature, he reached in...
When his hand came out, a small fluff of gray fur with black stripes was in it. The small creature began to make a crying "mewwww" sound over and over, and despite being dirty was otherwise intact. "What is it?" Jora asked.
"Its called a kitten," Korv replied.
"No, it's a baby cat," the fourth man in the room - a nineteen year old, Ugulkh - said. "I've seen grown-up cats before."
"Humans refer to baby cats as kittens," was Korv's exasperated reply. They turned and saw Jora rifling through the fridge, the small kitten in his hand still crying out. "What are you doing?"
"He sounds hungry," was the young Andorian's reply. "How do Humans spell 'milk'?"
"I don't think the Lieutenant will like us running around with a little critter," Ugulkh said.
"C'mon, I can't leave the little guy to die. Nobody is here to feed it." Inspecting a clear container of white fluid, Jora brought it out and snatched a small bowl off of the counter. He placed it in the floor and poured some of the liquid in, then placed his new pet in front of it. The small thing looked tentatively at the fluid and then began to lap it up.
Korv looked to Ruhronn, not very certain of what to do either. But Ruhronn shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to hold onto him until we can get him to the Lieutenant."
Jora grinned at that, and began to run a hand on the kitten's back as it lapped the liquid up hungrily. "So now we need a name...."



Amy, Ducky, Eris, I think this is your cue.

Things look to be heating up...

fb111a wrote:Things look to be heating up...

They;'re what now?? A bunch of Andorians adopted a kitten, how is taht "Things heating up"?

When they adopt a gerbil we know we're fucked.

Themightytom wrote:

fb111a wrote:Things look to be heating up...

They;'re what now?? A bunch of Andorians adopted a kitten, how is taht "Things heating up"?

When they adopt a gerbil we know we're fucked.

You know that the Federation's going to be starting something soon...

Any updates for this?

fb111a wrote:Any updates for this?

ARGH! You made me think there was an update, would you kindly knock it the hell off?

fb111a, I'm fairly certain we've had this discussion before. Stop making posts in a popular story thread, months after the last one, for the sole purpose of making everyone mad at you. Point taken? Good.