"Anatomy of a War" - Alt-Trekverse Fic

[Steve]

There might be one. Presuming I can get much done after work in the writing.

I'd start now, but Law & Order is coming in a few minutes.

[Steve]

Mwinyiburg, Henderson, ADN Colonial Zone
16:48 GST


The household of Hawa Small was quiet, with it being rather far in the evening. Hawa's husband Jacob had been called up to the militia a couple of hours before and wouldn't be home for a while. Now she was alone with her sleeping son Farid - who was still healing from being blinded by the nuclear flash at Gytep - and her visiting daughter Susanna and infant grandchild Thomas. They were sitting in their home speaking quietly, watching a British sitcom on the television.
Suddenly they could hear a loud siren from outside. Hawa had only a few moments to jump from the couch to see what was going on before the screen changed to show a text message, with an accompanying voice. "Attention all civilians! By order of the Governor of Henderson, the entire planet is now under a Red Level Defense Alert. All civilians, please find shelter in the bunkers immediately. This is not a test! Repeat, by order of the Governor, all of Henderson is now under a Red Level Defense Alert. All civilians must seek shelter in their city bunkers immediately!"
The response of the two women was one of terror and surprise, but nevertheless they acted quickly. Susanna took Thomas out of his crib and grabbed her bag of baby supplies while Hawa ran into Farid's room and woke him up. Both women, with their children in tow, went straight for the basement of the house, where they had already placed the emergency supplies upon the planet going on Yellow Level Alert. Hawa forced open the door to the bunker under the house while Thomas' shrill cries filled the basement. Stairs downward led to a tube with a ladder in it. Hawa helped Susanna fix Thomas to a backpack first, after which she went down the tube into the main part of the bunker. Hawa dropped down the bags next and then got onto the ladder, helping the blind Farid grab the ladder and follow her down.
At the bottom was the family bunker, but Hawa wasn't going to stay here. She opened a hatch and led Susanna and Farid down a cylinder tunnel with stairs, which eventually connected to a larger one. A increasing flood of people from the other homes in their area was filling the tunnel, which would lead to the underground city bunkers that would serve to protect the civilians of Mwinyiburg if the planet were invaded or subjected to orbital bombardment.
As they continued along, Hawa was beset with worry for her husband and son-in-law. The militia would only be allowed to the highest level of bunkers, should they be needed to quickly respond to a counterattack. Though that level was well-protected, she was afraid she would never see her husband again.
"Mama! Mama! What's going on?!" Farid's head was whipping around, his eyes covered by white bandages. "Where are we?!"
"We're in the underground tunnels, Farid. Stay close to me."
"Why are we in the tunnels, Mama?"
"I don't know, Farid." There were tears in Hawa's eyes as she led her son and family onward. "God help me, I don't know."



17:00 GST


Buried deep underneath the planetary capitol of Wakil, Planetary Defense Command was fully manned and in operation. The men and women in the PDC were not technically Alliance military personnel; they were part of the Army of the League of East Africa, the confederated body of African nations from Universe FHI-8 that had joined the Alliance in 2152.
Standing on the upper floor tier of PDC, looking down at the operators and the large digital screen displaying the space around Henderson, Senior Colonel Matthew Farani of the Henderson Planetary Militia was looking out at the display. Clad in a brown camoflogue uniform, Farani was primarily African in blood, though his name hinted that an ancestor on his father's side may have been from an Arab family that fled from the Middle East during the Great Wars of the late 21st and early 22nd Century.
"Incoming targets now confirmed as Cardassian, Colonel," the man at the sensor post said.
"Can you give us an idea of the ship types?"
"Not exactly, but considering the subspace wakes they're leaving, I'd say we're mostly dealing with destroyer and cruiser analogues."
"A light raiding force..." Farani turned to think for himself and saw the main door open. Governor Dawkins entered wearing a simple suit and flanked by bodyguards. Farani saluted to him. "Governor Dawkins, sir, welcome to Planetary Defense Command."
Dawkins returned the salute with the kind of quick, clean movement Farani would have expected from a military man. "Colonel Farani, do you have anything further on the situation?"
"We still have eleven warships on approach, they'll be coming out of warp in ten minutes." Farani pointed to a secondary display, showing a flat map of Henderson and various icons. "All militia units have been activated and readied. Our aerospace fighters have been re-armed with torpedoes and are still launching. Anti-starship missiles have finished fueling and will be ready for launch as the enemy nears orbit. We will raise the deflector domes when the enemy is thirty seconds out."
"And the units under Alliance jurisdiction?"
"The 109th Orbital Artillery Regiment has activated all of their batteries. The Army and Marine Corps units on-planet are on full alert and in their base bunkers preparing to repel an landing attempt."
Dawkins nodded with satisfaction at the preparations. "When will we be getting naval support? These Cardassians could be coming to set up a blockade."
"It'd be a very light blockade, Governor. The Navy has said it's sending reinforcements. But they won't be here for another two hours. Apparently there is fighting all along the border now."
"We'll make do with what we have then. I trust in all of you to keep this planet safe."
"The Cardassians will be blown out of the sky, Governor Dawkins. I promise you that."


CDS Hiparak, Approaching Henderson, ADN Colonial Zone
17:10 GST


"Preparing to drop out of warp, Gul."
Iltacek nodded at that. "Are the modifications complete?"
"Yes. Main weapons set to twenty-five percent power. This should increase firing rate by three to four times."
"Very good. Are we picking up any facilities in orbit of the occupied planet?"
"Some, yes. A number of satellites, two orbiting space stations, what looks to be a lunar station under construction on the fifth planet's second moon." The Technician at Sensors saw something else. "Picking up a number of light craft in orbit."
"Dropping out of warp, Gul!"
The Hiparak and her ten followers shut down their warp drives and slowed to sublight speeds. Their impulse drives fired on command, thrusting them toward the beautiful planet before them. "We are still ten minutes from weapons range, Gul. I'm now picking up defensive shields being raised on the planet itself."
"How interesting." Iltacek put a hand on his chin. "If this were a Federation colony, we could simply demand surrender with the threat of bombardment. These Alliance people are better prepared. What are the make of the enemy craft?"
"Four light vessels, apparently border cutters or system defense craft of some kind. A few of their LACs are still launching from one of the orbital stations. And I'm detecting several craft that are aerodynamic."
"Ground-based craft." Iltacek looked over the display. His finger traced a line from their flying wing to the enemy's craft and the likely intercept point. "I want all ships to rig a few salvos of photon torpedoes for ranged proximity detonation. We might not be able to hit them exactly, but the blasts should do some of the work for us."
"Very well, sir, sending the orders for modifications."
"Good. Now show me our scans of the planet's surface. Their bases are our primary targets. Cities are secondary."


EASV Lion of Ethiopia
17:18 GST


The century-old former missile cruiser Lion of Ethiopia, an old Lion-class British battlecruiser now stripped of it's Kollek warp drive (called a Cochrane drive elsewhere, or just "warp drive" in the Alpha Quadrant), was leading the small division of five system defense vessels, all older warships that had been stripped of faster-than-light drives to fit more room for ammunition, armor protection, and guns. Though only partially re-built due to the limited budget of the Planetary Defence Service, the Lion of Ethiopia was for all intents and purposes a warship.
She was now flanked by her four comrades, two of them being former cruisers and two more dedicated system defense ships, and nearly sixty fighters, both starfighters and aerospace. On her command bridge, Colonel Achmed al-Zarqawi stood watch with his faithful crew. An Arab from the refugee communities that originally settled in Tanzania, Somalia, and Zanzibar during the European conquest of the Middle East in the late 21st and early 22nd Century, Achmed had slightly darker skin than other Arabs - from his African maternal grandmother - and a large frame. "Enemy vessels will enter firing range in thirty seconds," his sensorman reported.
"Lock on targets. Fire when they come into range."


At the appropriate time, the missile launchers on Lion of Ethiopia lit up and sent a dozen missiles toward the oncoming Cardassian fleet. The fighters in the squadron followed up with their own missiles, sending a multitude of missiles at the Cardassians.
On Hiparak, Iltacek gave the order to fire, and the Cardassian squadron replied with their own photon torpedoes. Which were not going toward the targets al-Zarqawi thought they would. As they moved through the oncoming torpedoes, the torpedoes detonated. The explosions and the sudden waves of energy and radiation erupting from them knocked torpedoes off course or even managed to destroy them. The Cardassians opened up with their compressor beams as the surviving missiles rushed toward them. Iltacek's plan worked, though the missiles that did get through destroyed one of the ships in his wing and damaged four others to various extents.
Now the Cardassians were entering range. Iltacek ordered a full torpedo attack on the ships and compressor fire to be focused on the fighters. Set to their more rapid firing rate, the compressors sprayed the squadrons of oncoming fighters with a constant barrage. Several fighters were damaged, a couple destroyed, as the Cardassian fleet finished reloading their forward torpedo launchers. The next salvo struck out, focused on the Lion of Ethiopia and the ships near her.
The fighters replied again, firing another salvo of missiles at the Cardassians, while a flurry of a few dozen torpedoes made their way to a handful of targets. The system defense craft responded with their point-defense weaponry. Smaller phaser banks and particle cannon turrets fixed to the hull opened fire on the oncoming torpedoes. The torpedoes, despite being fast, were reduced by the fire.
But not all. The dedicated system defense craft beside Lion lost it's shields to the third torpedo hit; it took two more torpedoes, one of which hitting it's impulse drive and crippling it. Lion took six torpedoes, losing her shields on the third. Her entire bow was savaged by the torpedo strikes, costing her two missile launchers and a number of bow weapons.
Iltacek now took his own losses. Three hits on Hiparak reduced her forward shields to 50% and some bleedthrough radiation damaged her hull. One of the damaged cruisers fell apart from hits to the systems responsible for maintaining her structural integrity field. A couple of already-damaged ships took worse damage - one light warship lost her bow weapons - and virtually every ship in the squadron took damage.
From his bridge, Iltacek took satisfaction at seeing every Alliance icon on his screen wink out, even if he was down to nine vessels himself. His methods had crippled or destroyed twenty-four fighters now between the ships he had. The literal spraying of space with weapons fire was proving moderately effective, even if he'd hoped to inflict even more losses.
Now the main ships of the defense fleet were engaging with their energy weapons. Solid beams of particle or concentrated light were stabbing out at the Cardassians, along with the anti-ship phasers mounted on the newer system defense craft that remained. Al-Zarqawi watched the other cruiser of Hiparak's class get blown in half from a missile hit.
At this point, Itacek knew that staying longer would be suicide. He'd underestimated the kind of defenses the Alliance would place on what seemed to be a sparsely-populated frontier world. He'd lost three ships to them so far, even if he'd now destroyed over 30 of their fighters and one of their ships. To justify it, he could always claim to have picked up what appeared to be a large enemy force coming toward the system. Central Command wouldn't know otherwise, since the captains of the other ships would be in just as much trouble as he if Command disapproved of their retreat. And the recorders could more easily be tampered with to show sensor ghosts that didn't exist than other forms of trickery.
Iltacek turned to his helm officer. "Their defenses are too thick. We've done our fair share of damage and we should withdraw. Order all ships to turn away from the system and engage warp drives. We'll see if there are any single targets we can attack on our way back to Chin'toka."
The Hiparak killed another fighter before finishing it's turn toward the system's zenith point. The other ships made similar turns, and almost as one, the eight surviving Cardassian ships went to warp.


"Cardassian ships withdrawing, Sir," an operator in the PDC reported to Colonel Farani. "We've done it."
"And taken losses in doing so. How many losses?"
"The Vesey was crippled in the attack, casualty reports still coming in. And we lost thirty-two of our fighters. The Cardassian commander modified his anti-ship weapons to fire less-powerful but quicker bursts of energy. Wasn't as good as dedicted anti-fighter PD, but it did the job."
Farani looked at Dawkins. "Sir, you can cancel the Alert at your discretion. Henderson is safe for the moment."
"Thank you, Colonel."

[CJvR]

Intresting choice of name. Im looking forward to the apparence of Tojo, Hitler, Göring, Eichman and Wilhelm Hohenzollern.

Having a citywide bunker complex migh be excessive, although with Cardassians as neighbors its quite understandable. Basement bunkers would probably be enough though.

Nice to have a reasonably well balanced battle after the carrier strike-blowouts.

[Steve]

A note: I was re-reading the story and realized I'd already named the Governor of Henderson, and it wasn't Dawkins.

So consider Dawkins turned into Tewase, because I'm too lazy to do it.

And CJvR, which name did you find interesting? I don't remember choosing any names in that segment for a particular historical reason, let alone WWII.

*light bulb goes off*

Oh, yeah. Al-Zarqawi. I just needed an Arab name and that one popped into my head before I could go look at the Onomastikon, which I once downloaded. Nothing was intended with that, it was just me being lazy.

[Steve]

As for the extensive bunkers, yes, they're very expensive, but they're required by law in that particular nation. The League of East Africa's home universe is one of the.... nastier universes. People from other universes even call it "the Dark Universe".

[Duken]

How are those universes named? And are there any other sci-fi/fan universes besides BTech and Star Trek?

[Steve]

How are those universes named? And are there any other sci-fi/fan universes besides BTech and Star Trek?

So they sound interesting, I give them two or three letters, a hyphen, and a number, the entire thing a designation supposedly related to how the IU jump gates and drives work.

Of course, to make them easy to remember, I give them obvious designations. Hence EM-5 is Babylon-5 universe (EM = Earth-Minbari, 5 should be obvious), ST-3 is Star Trek, MWB-32 (MWB = MechWarrior Battletech), etc.

As for sci-fi universes already established, the only other ones so far are B5 and a variation of ID4. No Stargate, no Wing Commander, no Battlestar Galactica of either version. The rest of the universes are of my creation.

[Steve]

Command Center, Cardassia Prime, Cardassian Union
17:15 GST


Legate Kelataza's entry into the Command Center couldn't have come soon enough. "My apologies," he said to Yatar and Relim. "I was detained by affairs of state."
In other words, you were entertaining your pretty young mistress, was Relim's first, bitter thought. He held Kelataza in the same contempt he held Yatar. Petty bureaucrats who had backstabbed their way into leadership. "Legate, we have lost all contact with Kemar, Jemik, and Ubatal. The other bases appear to be operational according to sensors, but their communications are being jammed. Verpar and Telkur both reported the detection of what appeared to be enemy strike fleets before their communications became distorted."
"And where did those strike fleets come from, Torcet?! I was told we had the Alliance's main forces under watch!"
"We are unsure, Legate," Yatar replied.
"Legate, the Order and our own Military Intelligence were focusing on the Alliance's line vessels. They have not been following the deployment of the Alliance's carriers."
Yatar glared at Relim. "Those carriers are meaningless."
"The crew of Strovarak would disagree." Relim returned the glare. "You should not have underestimated their capabilities!"
"Silence, both of you!" Kelataza studied the map closely. "Have you sent ships to investigate?"
"Squadrons have been dispatched to Kemar and Ubatal."
Immediately after Yatar replied, a Glin at one of the posts turned. "Sir, we are getting a communication from the Kavarak."
"Put Gul Ducet on."
A female middle-aged Cardassian appeared on the screen. Her cold eyes didn't warm a bit at the sight of her commanders. But there was a look of absolute shock on her face, something even her cold reserve could not hide. "This is Kavarak reporting to Central Command. Sirs, we have arrived at Ubatal. There.... there is nothing left, Legate."
"What?!" Kelataza glared at the woman on the screen. "What do you mean nothing left?! There were over eighty warships stationed at Ubatal!"
"I know, Sir. But they have all been destroyed, along with the station itself. We have also picked up debris from the attackers. It is being analyzed now."
"Sir, we're receiving another communication. It's from Gul Sirut on the Ramok."
"Ramok is assigned to Kemar," Relim said, a very sick feeling coming to his tired old heart. "Put him on, Glin."
Another Cardassian came on to replace Ducet. His head was cut and bleeding and his bridge had clearly suffered battle damage. "Central Command, this is Ramok. Do you receive?"
"We read you, Ramok. This is Legate Kelataza. Please report on the situation."
"They came out of nowhere, Legate. We had no warning. Damned patrol and sensor operators must've been asleep."
"Who, Gul Sirut?"
"They were Alliance attack craft of some sort. Smaller than starships but warp capable. They came out of warp right by Kemar and opened fire before we could get much warning. We lost over twenty vessels in their first salvo. There were attempts to fight back, but more craft came. They were very fast spacecraft. Our gunnery officers had problems maintaining target lock. We... we lost everyone, Legate. The Ukara escaped with us, but I don't know of any others making it out." Sirut seemed to look past Kelataza. "Gul Torcet, your son was on Yavar?"
"He was," was Relim's emotionless response.
"Gul Akel was on the station, so he must have been the one to guess that something was wrong. Yavar was ready for the attack, Gul. Your son destroyed or damaged a number of the enemy before Yavar's bridge was atomized. We used his methods of arming his torpedoes to break free long enough to escape." Sirut's expression showed his wearyness and sympathy for Relim, who was too numb to say anything else. "Your son died a hero, Gul."
"Some hero, if he didn't warn the other ships of his squadron of his suspicions," Yatar scoffed.
"Quiet!" Kelataza looked from Yatar to the screen. "Ramok, find the nearest post and stop for repairs."
"Yes, Legate. Ramok out."
The screen flipped out. Kelataza turned his attention back to them. "Well, Yatar, here is your great offensive. We've lost the ships at Ubatal and Kemar. Who knows how many losses in the other bases? Do you have any bright ideas now?"
"We only have one option now, Legate." Relim was gripping the outside of one of the consoles, as if to steady himself. "The early phase of this war now relies upon the Bajoran Sector Fleet. They will have to meet the main body of the Alliance fleet in battle. Hopefully they will either be victorious or at least damage the Alliance's fleet enough to reduce their offensive power."
"Why should we risk the Sector Fleet?"
"Because, you fool, if we do not, we have nothing to keep the Alliance from sending parts of their main fleet to sustain attacks straight into Cardassia. Do not think that the Alliance won't advance toward Cardassia if given the opportunity. They say their purpose in this war is to liberate Bajor, and they may choose to secure Bajor's freedom by exchanging Bajoran worlds for our worlds."
"Then why don't we move the Sector Fleet up to further cover the border? Why press an attack?"
Relim sighed. He didn't groan, he didn't give a condescending look, he just sighed. Yatar noticed a change had come over the man even as Relim spoke softly, "Moving the ships toward the border may very well cause the Alliance admiral to try to force a battle anyway. It is better to initiate a battle on our terms, in their space, than to let them catch our fleet at a time of their choosing. Furthermore, the Sector Fleet is only five hundred ships. They can't cover that entire border area against the Alliance's fleet. Not with the Alliance's carriers to give them an edge. No, it's best to force a decisive fleet battle now while their carriers are still returning from their strikes. If we are quick and fortunate, even a defeat will buy us time to bring reserves up from Home Fleet and the Federation Frontier Fleet."
Yatar looked to Kelataza, who nodded. "Send the orders to Gul Dukat and Gul Lukal."
"Yes, Legate."
Kelataza walked up to Relim. "My condolences to you, Gul Torcet," he said softly. "But I must ask you to not grieve. Cardassia needs you now."
"Of course, Legate."
"Still, you should get some rest at your office. I'll alert the other Guls on the Strategy Staff that you will be holding meetings with them in the morning."
"Thank you, Legate."
"You're dismissed, then." Kelataza waved him off and watched him leave.
Yatar was busy directing the wording of the order to Gul Lukal. He turned as soon as Relim was gone and said, "Why are you being so nice to that spineless...."
"You forget your place, Hergata!" Kelataza was turned toward Yatar in a moment. "For all that we may find him annoying politically, Torcet is a veteran of many wars. He understands Humans, Klingons, and all the other races we have borders with because he's fought and learned from them all. We are at war now, and he is an invaluable asset. Besides, there is no harm in being sympathetic. The man has lost his son. You are a father. Certainly you understand the bond between parent and child."
Yatar nodded stiffly. "'The most saddening sight is to see parents grieving for their children'," he said softly, remembering the old Cardassian proverb. There were many old sayings and beliefs that the State had swept aside, but the bond of family, and between parents and their children, was so sacred to Cardassian society that even the State did not interfere with it.
"So, are there any other disasters to speak of?" Kelataza's voice was full of cynicism as he looked about the Central Command. "Do not be afraid. Speak up. Tell me how this war has already begun to go bad."
"Well, Legate..." One of the Glins at a command post turned his chair. "We have received reports of transports and their escorts being torpedoed and destroyed by undetected assailants."
Yatar grimaced at Kelataza's frown. "Oh, so the Alliance has cloaking technology. Why wasn't this confirmed?!"
"Our intelligence resources were focused on their line ships, Legate, and the Obsidian Order was too busy setting things up for their planned terrorism campaign in the Alliance to look into the matter."
"Yes, yes, more excuses. Anything more on these attacks, Glin?"
"One such attack destroyed a convoy of four transports carrying an Order of troops and equipment to rienforce Bajor. The escort was lost as well, though according to it's last transmissions it managed to somehow damage the attacking vessel."
Kelataza's face turned red. "So we've lost an entire Order? Of fifteen thousand troops?!"
"Yes, Legate."
Yatar sighed. It was going to be a long night, he could already tell.


After going past the empty receiving area of his office, looking briefly to his secretary's desk, Relim entered his main office. He walked over to a shelf on which he displayed his medals and commendations for his service. After several moments, Relim finally let out a yell and ran his hand over the shelf, tossing everything to the floor. He began screaming curses at every target in government he could imagine.
He had told them to not provoke the Alliance. They had not listened. He had told them it would be best to withdraw from Bajor, which wasn't worth the trouble any longer. They had not listened. He had told them that using a nuclear weapon on Gytep without confirmation was too risky. They had not listened. He had told them not to further enflame the situation by ordering forced searches of Alliance ships in Federation space. They had not listened. And finally, he had insisted that they prepare the fleet for anything when the Alliance's carriers were nowhere to be found. And, yet again, they had not listened.
Now, who knew how many of those ships had been lost. All of those good men and women, proud Cardassians who served with the trust that their leaders would not fail them, had been sacrificed to the vanity of the Central Command's leadership. His son Harak was just another victim, another life claimed because the Legate and the others had underestimated the Alliance.
"It will be a short and victorious war", they had said. "The Alliance's Humans are like those in the Federation. The populists will never stomach a bloody war with our people." Well, now they had gotten their damned war, and it wasn't going according to plan. The Alliance was clearly not the Federation. They wouldn't be kind enough to stay on their side of the line and keep asking for peace. They had struck first. This was a new enemy. A frightening enemy.
Cardassia needed him. Relim knew this. Cardassia needed his experience, his knowledge, his ability to think and strategize. But he was not certain Cardassia deserved that any longer. It was a horrible thing for him to think, for Relim had always been a devout patriot of his homeland. But what right did Cardassia have to call upon it's citizens to serve, fight, and die if their lives were to be frittered away for the pride of a few men in the highest ranks? There had always been the unofficial view that the State asked for such sacrifices of freedom and personal desire because it was necessary.
Relim slipped into his chair and brought up the material he needed. There would be no sleep for him this night. He had a war to win.
And he had to think of how to tell his family of Harak.

[CJvR]

The Cardassian command is taking this very well for someones who just were publicly castrated with a dull knife. In the backstabbing Cardie politics there should be dozens of Legate wanabees sharpening their knives after a fiasco of this order so saving their hides and put a positive spinn on things should be a high priority for the Legate and his cronies. Perhaps betting that Gul Torcet's counterstrike works and throwing him to the wolves if it doesn't, and pin the initial fiasco on him as well - no point in wasting a good scapegoat.

It will be real intresting to see how the Feds take this war news, probably alot worse than the Cardies I suspect...

[Steve]

Well, they don't know the full extent of the disaster yet. Full knowledge must come before any of the Byzantine maneuvering.

And yes, there are Legate wannabes with knives already sharpened, but I haven't seen fit to show them yet.

As for Relim Torcet, I've already decided upon his end. Keep in mind that Torcet would have his own allies in the military ranks, men he's commanded or served with, and that's a power of it's own. Try to scapegoat him directly and the military - the actual combatants - won't take it kindly.


As for the Federation's response, well, that'll be fun to write.

[CJvR]

Well, they don't know the full extent of the disaster yet. Full knowledge must come before any of the Byzantine maneuvering.

Oh I think they should have a very good Idea. Afterall the grand plans of conquest was just adjusted to a desperate flank attack.

[Duken]

Kelataza's face turned red. "So we've lost an entire Order? Of fifteen thousand troops?!"

Pwnd.

[Trogdor]

As for the Federation's response, well, that'll be fun to write.

PAPAL's gonna freak out like nobody's buisness, and the Council may well wet themselves at seeing this display of Alliance power. Please, write on.

[Junghalli]

No Stargate, no Wing Commander, no Battlestar Galactica of either version. The rest of the universes are of my creation.

What? Damn You!

[Steve]

No Stargate, no Wing Commander, no Battlestar Galactica of either version. The rest of the universes are of my creation.

What? Damn You!

Sorry, don't know enough about any of 'em.

[Steve]

VKFS Pobeda, 87 Light Years from Cardassia-ADN Border, Cardassian Union
17:25 GST


Pobeda was silent and alone in interstellar space, the wreckage of her enemies half a light year away. She remained cloaked while her crew worked feverishly to finish repairs from the near-miss detonation of a photon torpedo which had damaged one of the vessel's warp field nacelles. The detonation had been powerful enough to rupture the plasma line responsible for feeding plasma that energized the coils that created the warp field around the ship.
In the Pobeda's Conn, Yefim was looking into his personal display, waiting for news. A few enemy vessels had started to move into the area, but none had come close thankfully.
Their first engagement had been a success. It would have been an outstanding one if the Cardassian hadn't set his torpedoes to detonate at a specific range and been lucky enough to get one to blow up close enough to Pobeda to damage her. Of course, Pobeda prevailed and blew the offending destroyer to scrap with another pair of torpedoes.
There was movement at the stern entrance to the Conn. With his hair disheveled, Lieutenant Commander Yevgeny Kamarov walked onto the bridge and looked like he'd crawled through every part of the ship. "Captain, the shunt and valve have been completed."
"Very good, Mister Kamarov. Anything I should know?"
"Yes. To fully energize the warp coils, we will require so much plasma that there will be a buildup of plasma in the line over time. Opening the valve to the leak will be necessary to relieve the buildup."
"And your solution to this is what, Mister Kamarov?"
"I respectfully suggest that we run the reactor at 75%, the minimum necessary for low warp drive function and maintaining our stealth field and other essential systems. It will limit our speed at warp to no more than two point five lyphs."
Yefim frowned. "At that speed, it will take us a day and a half to return to friendly space. Can't we go faster?"
"That will require raising the reactor output, Captain. We'll have to vent the plasma when the buildup grows too great and that will show through our stealth field."
The ship's XO, Mikhail Petrovsky, turned from where he was overseeing the helmsman. "Sir, we are deep in Cardassian space."
"I know that, dammit! But I do not like the thought of crawling about like a snail. At those speeds, we cannot even intercept a garbage scow!" Yefim looked to Kamarov. "Is there a way you could repair the leak here?"
"No, sir. The plasma piping requires high grade material and special welding procedures. We will have to return to dock."
"God dammit." Yefim sighed. "Very well. We will return to Kensington Base and have the British give us repairs. Mister Yuburov, plot course for a speed of two point five lyphs."
"Yes, Captain." Yuborov crunched the numbers again on his systems. "Helm, change attitude bearing Zero-Seven-Six mark Zero-Nine-Three. Engage warp drive at two point five lyphs."
"Making course Zero-Seven-Six mark Zero-Nine-Three, aye."
Yefim settled back into his seat, looking longingly at all of the targets on his screens and sighing about his inability to catch any of them.



Bomber Atomic Dolphin, Nearing Felvar System, Cardassian Union
17:50 GST


"One minute to sublight," Rickover said, looking over his instruments.
"Good." Finishing another cigar, Shep tossed it into a readied plastic container. "Lenny, what do we have on the scope?"
"Looks like fifteen or so ships in space between Felvar 7, 8, and Felvar 8's second moon. I'd guess normal daily traffic and transports to and from the lunar mining facility, since none off these ships are showing mass signatures to warship size."
"Okay then. Well, let's get this started. Booster Alpha goes for the moon, it's got the penetrators for those mines. Boosters Bravo and Charlie go to the eighth planet's industrial complexes." Shep pressed a button to communicate with the bombardier. "Pilot to Bombadier. Report weapons readiness."
After a few moments, a reply came. "Weapons are ready. Preparing to open bay doors."
"Thirty seconds to sublight."
Shep waited out the time lighting another cigar. When the appropriate moment came the computers brought the Atomic Dolphin out of warp with three other bombers, who would target the seventh and eighth planets as well. "Other bombers report weapons readiness," Barton said.
"Okay then. Pilot to Bombardier, program weapons."
"Aye, Sir."
Shep kept his hands on the flying controls, keeping the Dolphin slowly moving on it's own inertia from dropping out of warp. After only forty seconds, Michaels' voice spoke once more. "Weapons ready. Opening bay doors."
Though the bomber was cloaked, if it wasn't, one could see the bottom of the Atomic Dolphin open up. Inside of the massive bomber's weapons bay, three impulse boosters were lowered until they were in firing position. "Permission to launch, Sir?"
"Permission granted, Sergeant."
The Dolphin and her fellow bombers "dropped" the impulse boosters, which were pushed down outside of the bombers by bursts of gases. Upon their becoming clear, each bomber's bombardier personally triggered the boosters and the missiles on them. The boosters' engines fired and they rocketed away toward their targets.


Rokar Talek, Felvar 8, Cardassian Union


The schoolyard of Rokar Talek's Third Primary school was filled with a class of 80 five year olds undergoing mental discipline exercises. They recited multiples of four while their overseers watched, with switches to smack children who failed to maintain their focus. The majority of the group was on the number 524 when one of the more misbehaving children noticed streaks in the sky to the distance. He looked up at the strange trails of white, having never seen so many. A sudden sting struck his shoulder, a stern-faced young woman standing over him. "Pakel, you have lost count!"
"Teacher, look!" Pakel pointed to the sky.
The young woman followed his finger and looked off to the distance, seeing the streaks heading toward the industrial supercomplex of Ikar Otal, where her husband and over twenty thousand Cardassians worked three quarters of a daily cycle fabricating weapons and electronic equipment for the Cardassian military, utilizing the resources of Felvar 8's eighth moon and those on Felvar 8 itself. She stared at the streaks, wondering what they could be.
Then she, Pakel, and dozens of the children screamed as a blinding light came from the distance. Only those teachers who had been looking away and the children who had closed their eyes were spared the flash. Young voices cried and shouted in panic even as those who were not blinded looked to the distance. The lead overseer turned around in time to see two distinct mushroom clouds forming on the horizon. He stared in utter horror, wondering just what was happening.



Yekal Mining Station, Second Moon of Felvar 8


The thirty thousand miners, administrators, dockhands, and support workers never had a chance.
The facility had it's own defense shield, but it took time to turn it on completely as it was an older, civilian model. And the operators of the station only got the warning from System Defense Command when the first missile hit. The Booster Assembly sent against Yekal had been programmed to fire two missiles and then three. The first two hit within four seconds of each other. Their hardened alloy penetrators went straight through the surface of the moon and facility and into the inner mining shafts themselves before their 500KT fusion warheads detonated. The detonations vaporized thousands of Cardassian workers and their equipment, collapsing mining shafts to condemn the handful of survivors to a death of asphyxiation, starvation, or radiation exposure.
The explosions caused a cave in. The facility literally began to sink into the surface of the moon when the other three missiles detonated in a rough triangle around the facility. Each warhead was rated at an estimated 750 kilotons. The blasts they created in the meager lunar atmosphere were still enough to overcome the faltering structure of the facility, tearing it apart before the radiation and thermal energy release of the fusion reaction did their work. Thousands of Cardassians had barely had time to realize the facility was literally collapsing before the entire structure was torn apart. They would not have time to begin suffocating in the non-oxygen atmosphere of the moon, of course, since the thermal energy of the blasts vaporized most of them and killed almost all, leaving very few survivors indeed to perish from the collapse of the facilities remains or from the lack of breathable air.



Bomber Atomic Dolphin


The instant the targets hit, the Atomic Dolphin and her three flight-mates were back at warp, returning to Henderson on what would be a trip of over four hours. Shep looked over to see everyone in the cockpit looked rather shaken. "What's wrong everyone?", he asked while lighting up another cigar.
"Sir..... how many Cardassians do you think we just killed?" Barton's voice seemed a little shaky.
"Shitloads."
"How... how can you just say it like that, Major?" Rickover looked directly at him. "I mean, they're not so alien that they don't think or have feelings. I've heard they're a lot like Humans."
"Son, that don't mean shit." Shep took a drag off his cigar and pulled it out of his mouth. "Rickover, Barton, this is war. Fucking war. The goal in war is to kill the enemy before he kills you. And our ultimate goal is to make the Cardassians leave Bajor and leave us the fuck alone. The only way we're going to do that is to convince them that we're not Feddies. We've got to show them that we have balls, big brass ones, and that we're not afraid to nuke them into the Stone Age if they fuck with us. Get that, kid? I mean, seriously, if y'all didn't like the thought of nuking things, maybe you shouldn't have sought an assignment to a bomber, y'know? There are plenty of other spots you could find, and plenty of others who understand what's at stake and won't give a rat's ass how many Cardies we nuke. Now, keep your eyes on your boards and get us home in one piece. If you still have a problem with it, I'm sure I can find someone willing to re-assign you to planet-side."
With that said, Shep put the cigar back in his mouth and continued smoking it while they cruised along at warp.

[MKSheppard]

*Chatters approvingly*

You even used the claw of death too!

[Steve]

Bah, a final note I forgot. Lyph means light years per hour. The term lyph/lyphs is, to the Alliance's component nations, an FTL speed equivalent to the modern term knot/knots.

[dragon]

No Stargate, no Wing Commander, no Battlestar Galactica of either version. The rest of the universes are of my creation.

What? Damn You!

Sorry, don't know enough about any of 'em.

Just read some of the other fan ficts for an idea and don't worry we wouldn't jump on you to bad if you messed them up.

[Steve]

Kensington Base (5th Fleet Command), Kensington, ADN Colonial Zone
18:10 GST



In the command center of Kensington Base, Admiral Sir Geoffrey Kentworth was in a seat with many of his staff officers, overseeing the day-to-day operations of the roughly five hundred warships now under his command, placed throughout the Colonial Zone and Keloan space.
Soon there would be more ships. Recent indications from the Pentagon and the Chief of Naval Operations was that another four task forces - 480 warships - were due for deployment to the Alpha Quadrant, as well as four carrier divisions to bring the reinforcement total up to 500 warships not counting starfighters. Kentworth had been told that they would be placed under the command of Admiral Helen Lewis as 14th Fleet.
Kentworth took a look at the large digital display on the wall of the command center. It highlighted the current positions of every individual division, squadron, or task force on the border. Task Force 5.1 had split into component squadrons, each squadron positioned along a portion of the border facing Bajor with one squadron divided down into divisions and even individual ships monitoring sections of the Alliance and Keloan frontiers with the Federation and the Sphere. Task Force 5.2 was gathered at Kensington. She had four battle squadrons that included his fleet flagship - the Freedom-class superdreadnought DNS Pearl Harbor - and was the main hitting force of 5th Fleet with her forty capital ships. Task Force 5.3 was divided into squadrons, and two of her squadrons had even further divided into divisions to keep an eye on local concentrations of Cardassian patrol ships all the way over to Keloan space. Task Force 5.4 had two more battle squadrons, flagged from the new Tirpitz-class dreadnought DNS Karol Wojtyla under Kentworth's protege Vice Admiral Richard White, and was divided into two sections watching the Cardassian-Keloan border and the five systems in the sector that were disputed between the Alliance and Cardassia.
At about 18:12, one of the enlistees on post, a young American woman, turned in her chair. "Sir, we just got a report from the Chalons. Her subspace mass sensors are detecting a growing mass distortion in subspace, on a bearing to enter Alliance space in about one hour."
"What could it be, Petty Officer?"
"It's a rather large distortion, Sir. It looks to me like an enemy fleet, with a few hundred warships at least."
"But you can't be certain?"
"The jamming is too severe, Sir. We'd have to cease jamming operations to tell for certain."
"And we can't do that without jeopardizing our carriers' mission," Kentworth sighed. "Very well, ascertain the point at which they will enter Alliance space. Communications, send out the following orders. Task Forces 1 and 4 are to have all available squadrons rendezvous with us at a point that Petty Officer Lee will determine. Task Force 3 is to remain on station with all of her squadrons."
"Aye, Sir!"
Kentworth nodded to his staff, who began moving about and preparing things. "And send word to the Pearl. I shall be METting over in precisely ten minutes."
"Aye, Sir!"

[Steve]

Washington D.C., Earth, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
18:34 GST


Mamatmas was seated alone in the Oval Office, a beautiful winter afternoon outside the windows behind him. He was examining a few papers and his itinerary, which was now emptying from the war. A letter from the American Ambassador from Universe AGC-1 was on his desk, expressing his government's official support for the Alliance's war effort.... and a secondary note reminding Mamatmas of the American government's disapproval of the impending plebiscite in the Kingdom of Thailand for membership in the Alliance. It differed little from the initial "disapproval notices" he'd received from Washington AGC-1 and the Kaiser's government in Berlin, but it served as a stark reminder that the Alliance had other concerns besides Cardassia.
Mamatmas began to rub his eyes after he tossed the note aside. Just three months before, he had been on the verge of perhaps negotiating an end to the entire situation with Cardassia. The Cardassians, despite initial grandstanding, had been willing to negotiate fairly on what was called the Bajoran Problem. Perhaps they too had reasons for not going to war.
But then that damned Kranitz - the young and idealistic Ambassador from the Federation - had leaked to the press the initial Cardassian terms, which had been worded as a demand. Before Mamatmas or his people could react, the press had already begin reporting that the Cardassians had issued a list of demands to the Alliance Government and threatened war for non-compliance. The popular response - anti-Cardassian demonstrations and a clear popular movement to not back down - had destroyed any hope of Mamatmas actually negotiating the matter. The hard line had been adopted, and it had led them to this point. Now everything was in the hands of fickle Fortune.
Ms. Henley buzzed him. "Sir, Intelligence Director Bronson is here to see you."
"Send him in." Mamatmas put his hands together on his desk and watched Bronson enter the room, a folder under his arm. "Something important, Director? Something you want to share before the Security Committee meaning at two-thirty?"
"Yes, Mister President. This concerns a... secondary matter directly relating to the one at hand."
"What secondary matter is this?"
"Well, sir, if I may say so, we wouldn't be in this mess if not for the Federation. And I think you should seriously start considering a more... proactive policy in regards to our friends from Paris and San Francisco." Bronson sat down. "I won't bother bringing up the Nitse Report again. But we need to decide just how much control we want to have over the chain reaction she predicted."
"And just how do you propose we exercise any control?"
"By bankrolling and giving covert support to subversive groups within the Federation," Bronson replied. Ignoring the unpleased reaction on Mamatmas' face, he continued. "We could support pro-defense groups, independence movements, and anti-BLN groups so that when the time comes, we will have the influence and connections to dictate the course of the Federation's collapse. Better a slow collapse that can come in controlled stages than for a meltdown that will set the entire Alpha Quadrant aflame."
"And if the Federation finds out, they will...."
"They will what, Mister President? They need Alliance goods more than we need their latinum. PAPAL is a millstone around their neck, restraining their government's options for fear of touching off another anti-war uprising in the Core Worlds. And if they openly begin going after those groups, they're just as likely to trigger their own collapse as they are to secure their control." Bronson shook his head. "Mister President, the day is going to come when the Federation will collapse. It's best we begin preparing for it now rather than making our successors have to deal with it."
"Fine, fine. I'll want the full Security Committee to hear these suggestions of your's later before I give you the authority of an Executive Order, but for now..."
"For now, Mister President, I would like to introduce you to a very interesting group of individuals." Bronson opened the folder and placed a picture before Mamatmas of a pretty young Asian woman with dark hair. "Meet Yumiko Ogawa."
"And she is?"
"In our records, she is the owner and captain of the merchant vessel Denmark Vesey."
Mamatmas' eyes opened a little wider. "The ship the Cardassians attacked."
"Yes. Had about two hundred Bajorans aboard. And probably millions of Alliance dollars in gold-pressed latinum stolen from the Federation treasury on New Styria." Bronson watched Mamatmas' reaction to that. "Yes, we verified by news stations that a convoy of air vehicles taking approximately $20 million from the planetary treasury to the Karlsburg Spaceport was ambushed while in the countryside. Over fifteen million was not recovered. The local authorities decided it was professional bandits beyond their scope and ignored the case. We think Starfleet Security suspects them of it, and we do too."
"So we're at war in part because we protected a bunch of bank robbers from the Cardassians." Mamatmas sighed.
"Not just bank robbers, Mister President." Bronson pulled out another picture, this one in a cafe setting on some other world, centered upon a group of individuals at a table. He then pulled out a third picture, a blowup of the second. He handed it to Mamatmas, who looked at it closely. "This is who we think she really is."
Mamatmas had only just begun to look at the picture of the woman when he realized the key difference. Her hair was not obscuring her ears now. And her ears were larger and pointed at their ends. "She's not Human?"
"Half-Human. If our sources are correct, her real name is Asako t'Prinn. Her Romulan father was a merchant and her Human mother a prostitute from the Nipponese worlds." Bronson handed him a paper, with a different version of the woman's face and information on her. "This is the unclassified Starfleet Security file that they sent us as part of standard First Contact protocol. Due to their position toward the Federation at the time, the Ministry of Justice listed Asako and her group, known as the Anti-Racist Action League or ARAL, as terrorists on our master list.
"This just keeps getting better and better."
"Well, Sir, they're not terrorists as you or I would think of them. They're more like rebels. They've engaged in the assassination of Federation politicians and figures in favor of such things as the Cultural Rights Enforcement Act. They have connections to some of the more... gentle pirate bands in the Triangle. And as you've seen, they shoot up banks and money convoys to fund their operations." Bronson pointed out another figure at the table. "The woman beside her, with the pointed ears, is Sophia Razmara. She's half-Vulcan and, by all reports, is Asako's closest confidant and friend. There are rumors in the Triangle that the two are even lesbian lovers, though that has never been confirmed and the closest sources to ARAL say it is unlikely."
"Miss Razmara is a hard luck case as well. She was conceived when her Human mother Mitra Razmara was raped by her Vulcan employer, an elderly Vulcan named Stovuk in the earlier stages of Bendii Syndrome. Made quite a stir in the Federation press thirty years ago when Stovuk's widow T'Par and family sued for custody, saying she needed to be raised as a Vulcan. She was only seven at the time. The courts ruled in T'Par's favor, so Mitra took Sophia underground. At first T'Par and her family pushed for her to be found, but after Sophia turned 14 they lost interest. When Sophia was only 16, Mitra was caught and arrested on a world in Pacifica. She had to spend the rest of her minor years living in the Triangle, working as a dockhand and other menial labor. She eventually took a job as a nude dancer before, according to sources, she met Asako t'Prinn, and the two became friends and comrades. ARAL was apparently a direct result of this friendship."
"Well, Bronson, what do you want me to do?"
"By now, Mister President, Starfleet Security is undoubtedly preparing a request to our government to investigate Vesey. The Justice Ministry will, in turn, have Scotland Yard look into them now that they've arrived in Wexford. I want your permission to have AID intercede in that investigation. We'll do so through MI5 and their traditional links to Scotland Yard. In a couple of weeks or so, they'll report to the Federation that Vesey was innocent after all. Starfleet Security may get suspicious, but they'll consider it to be incompetence and politics. The Federation's leadership is in turmoil for the moment and I would not expect anything from them for a while. Long enough for you to decide on whether or not to provide support to ARAL as a stepping stone to establishing links with other subversives in the Federation."
Mamatmas sighed. "Fine. You have my authorization for the time being. Just be careful."
"Of course, Mister President."

[Zed Snardbody]

I got another fix! Yay, the shakes have stoped.

[darthdavid]

This story is da bomb.

[CJvR]

That can be a rather dangerous assumption to make. Pacifists can be surprisingly violent if you challenge their pre-packaged world view. A successful war on Cardassia will impact directly on PAPALs political powerbase and they won't take that without reacting. There are plenty of options available to provoke a confrontation and even outright war while making the Alliance look guilty for the home audience. It is just a question of how far PAPAL is willing to go to protect their powerbase.

[Steve]

Miscalculations happen. Just ask the Cardassians.