"Anatomy of a War" - Alt-Trekverse Fic

[darthdavid]

You are the man.

[Zed Snardbody]

Very nicely done.

[Steve]

Sorry about the lack of updates. I've been busy slaughtering ancient Chinese peasant levies in Dynasty Warriors 5.

[Junghalli]

GAH! I thought it was an update! <reaches through computer screen to strangle Steve>.

[Zed Snardbody]

We don't pay you to slaughter peasants!

Wait....we don't pay him at all.

never mind.

[Steve]

Yuvar, Cardassian Union (Disputed)
02:14 GST


The tracked IFV-3 and it's three compatriots rumbled across the dirt of Yuvar 6, a planet in one of the five systems disputed between the Alliance and the Cardassians. Lieutenant Pinelli and his platoon had been sent by Captain Reynolds to investigate the Cardassian mining settlement of Evelek. It only had a few hundred occupants, but was apparently empty judging by orbital scans. Their mission was to follow up on the initial recon sweep by investigating the town's structures. The rest of the company was in position to provide support if they found something.
Pinelli and his troopers were grumbling with discontent for two reasons. One was that they weren't with the rest of the division. The 79th Division had been assigned to securing the northern region around the planetary capitol of Turek Ikara, where 30,000 Cardassian soldiers and militia were still holed up against the rest of CXIV Corps. As a result, they were actually seeing combat, and young lieutenants like Pinelli were always looking for combat to earn their pay and create the possibility for advancement. But instead they had to head away from the front to the very outskirts of inhabited land on Yuvar to investigate a small settlement.
The second reason was due to the two passengers cramped into the IFV-3 Pinelli was riding in. Kellie Sanderson and her cameraman Levek were seated in the middle of the rear compartment, wearing the same combat fatigues as everyone else.
The fatigues were made of special air-tight material, and the full set - socks, shoes, trousers, full-sleeved jacket, and gloves - was completely sealed off from the atmosphere to counter the use of NBC weapons. Their helmets were Emerson Armor-Lite Model 5s; Pinelli had a Cherenkov 7 Platoon Command helmet with better communications abilities and a digital-layered helmet face plate that displayed a HUD at his mental command. Both types had internal oxygen tanks and the ability to hook up to external tanks for use in vacuum or in tainted atmospheres, though at the moment Pinelli and his people had their external air supply vents - with emergency filters in case of sudden attack - open to breathe the uncontaminated air of Yuvar 6.
Pinelli was still irritated that Reynolds had sent the Feddie reporter with them to Evelek. He didn't trust the Feddies, and neither did his men. But Kellie and Levek had acted decently toward them, taking the time to interview Private Masters and Sergeant Dobson. Kellie even apologized for being rude earlier when she'd learned Dobson's age.
Climbing up through the IFV to the upper hatch, Pinelli watched the terrain turn to dusty flatland with brush, like out of an old American Western. There were mountains in the distance, likely the location of the mines that the Cardies of Evelek worked. The town was also coming up, as Pinelli could see what looked to be a spire in the distance.
They pulled up to the first building and each squad disembarked from their vehicles. Pinelli had one squad stay behind while the others broke up into fireteams and investigated the smaller structures.
Pinelli, Dobson, Masters, and their squad split into five and investigated two homes. Then they investigated the next two, and so on for the next half an hour, making their way through the eastern quadrant of Evelek.
Finally, when they were in one abandoned three story home, Masters was looking in a closet on the ground floor when she noticed something on the ground. She looked to the other Private with her, Hogan, and said, "Hey Hogan, what do you make of this?"
Hogan walked over and knelt at the door, using a touch of his hand to the side of his helmet to activate a helmet light which shined down on the floor. He could clearly make out the borders of what seemed to be a secret hatch of some sort. Hogan tapped down on a button controlling his comm and asked for Pinelli to come immediately. Pinelli arrived in the room shortly afterward with Dobson. "What do you think, Sir?"
Pinelli swallowed and knelt down at the secret hatch. "Cover me." He ran his fingers around it's border before finding a slight grip, which he used to pry it open.
There was a loud cry of fright from inside. Pinelli shined a light down the hatch and into the cubbyhole that had been built into the floor. It was a small box-shaped chamber, barely five feet by five feet by five feet, and snuggled into it were three Cardassian children, including one infant cradled in the arms of what looked to be a Cardassian girl roughly equivalent to an age of seven. She looked up at them, as did a younger child, apparently a boy, who was hiding his face and looking away while shouting a phrase over and over. Pinelli looked back up at his men. "There are kids in here! Cardassian kids! Shit, does anyone have a translator or something?!"


Now seated outside, Pinelli and several troopers were watching Kellie speak to the children with her Universal Translator implant. Their own HUDs displayed translations of what they said, but only Kellie's translator let her speak back in their language.
The denizens of Evelek were part of the Society of the Holy Sun, one of the last religious groups left amongst the Cardassians. It was a monotheistic faith, with a supreme diety named Jokaravar embodied by the Cardassian sun and numerous "servant" dieties who also acted as patrons of mortals in the way that Catholic saints were to Catholics. The Jokaravites, as they were called, had been deported from Cardassia generations ago to a colony world on Ikarel 10, and from there, various dissidents were sometimes sent to Evelek to slave away in the mines. The children didn't know where their parents were, just that the soldiers had come about a day earlier to order the adults to report to militia duty. The Jokaravites were borderline pacifist, believing that they could only morally fight in wars that were justifiable by their teachings, which ruled out virtually every war that the Cardassian Union had waged in the past century. They had chosen to refuse, and to protect their children they had hid them away in hiding compartments in their homes that they had built with sensor-blocking materials painstakingly acquired over decades.
While Kellie interviewed the children, recording it for future use, Pinelli and his platoon finished examining Evelek. There were no signs of the adults, but they found another fifty children in various homes. They were all scared of the soldiers, and some had refused to come out of their hiding places until other children could be brought to them to convince them it was safe. HQ had medical personnel slated to arrive from the hospital ship Theresa Huntington to care for the children, leaving Pinelli and his men to watch the children and finish checking things up.
Kellie had just finished her interview with one of the older children, a thirteen year old girl, when Pinelli received a call. Corporal Kent was on the radio, speaking with a tone that made Pinelli's blood curdle. "Sir... We... we found something."
Following Kent's signal, Pinelli and Masters walked out to where Kent and Private Gao had headed. It was about 500 meters outside of the settlement, toward the mines. Pinelli walked up to where Kent and Gao were looking down into what looked to be a ditch. Gao had removed his helmet and Kent's face plate was open, which he found difficult to believe from the overpowering stench which now prompted him to activate his air filter. "Corporal, what is it?"
Kent pointed to the ditch and Pinelli looked into it. His mouth dropped open in shock, after which he crossed himself and muttered, "Mother of God."
The ditch was filled with bodies. Cardassians in civilian clothing, elderly and young, men and women, were lying about randomly. Some had been bayoneted and others had massive burns on their heads from being shot at point-blank range by phaser weapons at low settings. Pinelli felt his stomach grow violent and barely wrenched his helmet off in time to puke. As he drew in breaths trying to control the urge to vomit again, he saw Masters yank her helmet off, vomit covering her face. She was crying before wretching again.
Pinelli slipped his helmet back on, now certain he had nothing left to puke, and made two calls. One to Kellie, and one to command. Afterwards he crossed himself again and began whispering a prayer while tears rolled down his eyes. In all his life, he'd never imagined he'd ever face something like this. Never....

[Zed Snardbody]

Tease!

Teasing batard.

Now do it again.....

[CJvR]

For a moment there I thought the Obsidian order had actually done something intelligent like framing the Alliance for a savage massacre.

[Duken]

For a moment there I thought the Obsidian order had actually done something intelligent like framing the Alliance for a savage massacre.

Nope. I don't think intelligent and Obsidian Order really belong in the same sentence but thats just me.

And quit teasing us...

[Steve]

Well, that's not to say they won't let the Federation do it for them with selective editing of press material.

[CJvR]

Well, that's not to say they won't let the Federation do it for them with selective editing of press material.

Yeah, but the Fed goverment will know the truth regardless of how they let the media spinn it. They might not want to belive the truth or prefer the PC version but they will know, can't dodge that. It would have a much greater impact on the Fed-Gov if they actually belived it.

It should be easy to setup for the Obsidians, they have to have plenty of Alliance weapons from the fighting on Bajor and totalitarian regimes can always find undesirables to shoot.

[Steve]

Ikapar, Dervak, Cardassian Union
13:01 GST


Released for his duties for a length of time Horvem had yet to decide, Glin Kercel returned to the planet's surface and the trade city of Ikapar. Ikapar was a modestly-sized city of about two hundred thousand souls with a spaceport and the seedy underbelly one would expect for a planet so close to the Sphere.
With nothing else to do, Kercel decided to pay a leisure visit to an establishment in the Alien Quarter. Rekor Durba was a men's club, multi-racial, with a host of beautiful alien women who danced nude and did a great many other things for the entertainment of the clientele. Paying to enter, Kercel spotted a lovely Bajoran girl on the stage, lowering herself into the lap of an Orion trader so he could grope her bare chest. Porel Imina's honey-colored blonde hair was cut as short as ever, he could see as he walked over to the proprieter responsible for more... intimate forms of entertainment.
About ten minutes later, Kercel and Imina were in a private room assigned to her. They did their business as usual, hiding the mutual affection they had for one another until they were fully alone in their room. Their's was an odd attachment, born of Kercel's self-loathing for his people and their cruelty, Imina's shame for her work, and their mutual loneliness.
During their intimacy and their talking after it, Kercel slipped into one of her bags a data chip that she would know the purpose of. After they were done and had said their goodbyes, he left to go drink away his guilt while Imina took a rest and met with her Human associate, Abigail.
A couple of hours later, Abigail - a Roman Catholic from a Human community in the Sphere - paid a visit to the Catholic chapel in the Alien Quarter's residential district. There were very few chapels in Cardassian territory due to various Cardassian laws and this was one of those rare ones. After giving confession to the priest, Abigail stopped to light candles and pray quietly. The data chip Kercel had handed to Imina was in her hand when she put a candle back, slipping the chip under the candle.
Two hours later, a blonde-haired Human woman stopped at the altar as well, after giving a short, incomplete confession to the deacon. She picked up the same candle and removed the chip. Afterward, she went back to her hotel room.


Later the next day, the woman re-emerged from her hotel room. Her hair was now red and there were Trill spots on her body, which her hot pink dress showed well by exposing everything above her ample cleavage as well as her strong belly. Most onlookers took her as a prostitute, an image that strengthened as she made her way to the Belukara Hotel in the wealthy region of the Alien Quarter.
The people in this area were very wary, and for good reason. At one time the criminal underworld of Ikapar had been rather unified, but no longer. The local crime boss, Oparatho from the Orion Southern regions, had suffered a falling out with one of his major suppliers of slaves and drugs, a nominally legitimate Ferengi trader and financier named Quek. An initial fight over Quek's raising of his prices had blossomed into a turf war, with Quek using Nausicaan mercenaries and contacts in the Cardassian government to take over or eliminate a third of Oparatho's operations. The two hated each other fiercely, though they kept their fight as low key as possible to prevent a public display that could bring the government down upon them both. As a result of this, they had both put out contract hits on each other.
The woman had accepted both.
One might ask what her name was, but the truth is she adopted and shed identities as she moved along, killing when a good price was offered for it. However, at one time in her life she had been Lieutenant Misty Greene of Starfleet. A time before the death of a beloved companion and her lashing out at the fools who tried to dishonor his memory. She had been cashiered from Starfleet, incarcerated for a short time and drugged in an effort to reduce her "emotional anger".
The drugs had done more than that. They had driven her wounded soul into deep isolation, only shreds of what she once was remaining amongst many memories. Now she was a cold-blooded killer-for-hire who's last shred of decency kept her firmly on the line of killing only those who deserved it. And only if the money was good.
Upon arriving at the Belukara Hotel, Misty went to the sixth floor and a suite entrance flanked by scowling Nausicaan guards. They granted her entry after searching her purse.
Misty was led to the bedroom of the suite where Quek was waiting in a robe. His men left him. He instructed her to remove the top of her dress, which she did, baring her chest to him and smiling seductively as she slipped on top of him. He kissed her slightly, more interested in groping her than anything. As was expected, her hands began to caress the lobes of his ears, an incredibly arousing experience for Quek.
The romance of the moment ended with a snapping sound. Quek's face barely registered what must have been a sudden, horrible surprise as his neck was suddenly broken by a sharp twist of Misty's hands. She slid off the bed and put her top back on, then retrieved a comm phone from her purse. She took a picture of Quek's dead body and sent it to a dummy phone Oparatho had specially for his contract on Quek. A moment later, a response came, text only, verifying the sum of $1 million Alliance had been transferred to her account in Kellerman on Rymorta, completing the two million overall. With this done, Misty mussed her hair up to make it look disheveled, placed Quek in a position so that he'd look like he was sleeping from a distance, and left. The guards thought nothing of it, since Misty had already learned that Quek's embarrassing secret about his lack of stamina and his tendency to kick prostitutes out after failing to do much with them.
She traveled down to the third floor and a room she'd rented out under the name Italaria Que'sevi, her background being that of an Orion businesswoman from the Northern nation of Ropakao. Inside the room she had a teenage Orion girl, a slave she'd bought and was going to emancipate in exchange for her part in this plan. She removed her clothes, placed them in a specially-made bin, and dissolved them with acid. Then she had the girl, nude as she was, follow her into the bedroom, where a vat of special body paint awaited. A half hour later, Misty was no longer Trill but Orion, with her dark hair pulled back into the traditional three-buns favored by wealthy Ropakai women. Wearing a modest, respectable business-woman's dress of black color, Misty led the teenage Orion girl out, the girl dressed in a sexy halter top and high-cut skirt to look like any other sexually-promiscuous teenager. Once in the hotel lobby, they kissed discreetly but yet visibly and parted ways, making the proposed Italaria Que'sevi look like any other wealthy and free Northern Orion indulging in homosexuality, which Northern Orion macroculture considered degrading due to the Eastern and Southern Orions frequently forcing it upon their slaves. This ended the first half of her plan.
Now Misty started on the double play, or what she now considered the "bonus round". She would have to kill Opartho before Quek's body was found to collect on the second contract, which was worth more because she'd taken advantage of Quek's inexperience with the criminal underworld and the stupidity of his lieutenant Pelog.
Leaving the Belukara, she traveled a few blocks to her safehouse, a smaller, less popular hotel for aliens. Oparatho thought she would be going there to lay low, but in truth she had the hotel owner, a Cardassian veteran with a large gambling debt, in her pay. He had arranged for her to be given the key to enter a linked room the one she had. Once in her main room, she went straight to the bathtub and washed herself with a special soap that would chemically strip the realistic body paint off. Once her skin was fair again, she applied oil to it to make it a little darker and fixed Vulcanoid ear extensions on. She also added peculiar scars to her wrists, neck, and arms to look the next part she would play. She placed a mark on her forehead that would look like the attachment point for a limbic transducer and dressed even skankier than she'd been in her Trill guise, wearing a mid-riff bearing high-cut halter-top that seemed little larger than a bra and a very immodest skirt. She left the adjoining room as Maria t'Rillaeie, a Human/Romulan illegitimate bastard turned cheap transducer junkie, the 24th Century-equivalent of a "crack whore". She returned to the Belukara where she looked a bit out of place but obviously, to those watching her, having been hired by a occupant with peculiar sexual tastes, the kind that a transducer junkie would participate in to get her next fix. Misty had gone the extent of having Pelog rent the tenth floor room she was headed to in the name of one of Quek's associates.
Once in the room, Misty looked under the bed in the main bedroom and found the cases she'd had Pelog place. One case contained a French-made Comeau-Sainte-Martin sniper rifle with a wireless transceiver to send video images from it's scope. The other case contained a black jumpsuit, which Misty gladly changed into to get the "skank wear" off. She made sure all the lights in the room were off and walked up to and knelt at a window looking down the street, which she opened enough to get a clear shot. In a distant window at about the level of her room, she could see several Orion men talking. The building in the distance was an expansive night club and brothel, the workers mostly slaves of varying races bought by Opartho. She had very little qualms about what she was going to do next while she fitted a headset on and dialed out to Pelog. "Pelog, are you there?"
"I'm here, lady," the Ferengi replied.
"You're getting a feed. Watch closely and have my two million ready." Misty switched on the scope's video transmitter and brought the rifle up toward the window. She zoomed in enough to see, distinctly, the men in the room and their faces. She pointed her hairs on one. "Who is he?"
"That's Remar Ika'tors, one of Opartho's bodyguards."
"And him?"
"That's Opartho."
"Good. Now watch."
Misty squinted her eye a bit and with calm patience waited for her hands to settle enough to get a clear shot. When she had one, on the rear left of Opartho's head, she pulled the trigger and watched his head explode from the impact of a 10mm round.
She only had limited time now, since his bodyguards and associates would undoubtedly figure out where the shot came from. She quickly changed back into the skank wear and placed the suit and rifle back in their cases while she listened to Pelog confirm the $2 million ADN had been transferred to her account in the banks of Liechtenstein, a Human-settled planet in the Sphere. This made her overall take to be six million, two from Opartho and four from Quek, who were now both dead.
Next she went further down to another room she had pre-arranged, this time with another personal associate from the Sphere. It was a second floor room facing a different direction from which the shot would have been impossible. There she took off the Vulcanoid ears and changed into a pleasant-looking, but not skanky, dress. A set of nose ridges and contacts to make her eyes brown finished her disguise change into Romel Wenrys, a Bajoran woman and mistress to a fictional Cardassian Gul who had the papers to prove it. She called for room service and had her "belongings" transferred to a private transport that was taking her to the spaceport. Just after she left, Opartho's people began to search every room after confirming the assassin's absence from the possible shooting rooms.
At about 19:34 GST on November the 25th 2153 AST, Misty Greene, now again the Human with blonde hair - Sara Macetti, departed from Ikapar Spaceport on a Federation-registered liner, bound for Kellerman on Rymorta. She allowed herself a slight smile as the first news reports of Opartho's death were displayed. The Cardassian authorities would not bother with their more draconian measures to find Opartho's killer, as even his old allies would be happy he and Quek were dead.
On top of gaining that six million, she had another million coming to her from her old associate and friend Jane Sakata, who had arranged for her to get the data chip now hidden in Misty's belongings.
All in all, it had been a very fruitful visit to Dervak.

[darthdavid]

You sir, kick ass.

[Zed Snardbody]

More dead Cardies!

[Steve]

Wexford Naval Headquarters, New Liberty, ADN Colonial Zone
15:03 GST


Inside the Stellar Navy headquarters for Universe ST-3, the currently-sitting SACST-3 - Fleet Admiral Alexei Simonov - was with his commanders from the other services. On the table before them, a holoviewer displayed the progress of the initial invasion. All five disputed systems were now under Alliance naval control. Two planets had surrendered so far and the other three were not long from doing the same, though all five had suffered damage to their residential cities. Thankfully, the lack of a large city on any planet had prevented the kind of hellish urban fighting that wore down even victorious armies.
Now the discussion was "Where next?" The clock was ticking now. The Cardassians would be sending everything they could spare now and unlike the Alliance, they did not have a transport bottleneck as the New Liberty Gates were going to be. A perimeter had to be established, and quickly, but without moving so fast that they could not adequately secure and maintain their units.
Now pouring over starmaps, the decision had been made to advance another five light years into Cardassian space. But General Alistair Crawford - a Royal Marine officer now in the ADNMC - had now brought up another idea. "It is my proposal," the Englishman said, "that we secure the system of Darane." He pointed on the map to Darane, a system with a majority population of Bajorans that was considered part of the Cardassian Oversight Authority of Bajor. "The only inhabited planet is Darane 4. It's planetary population is only about four hundred thousand, the vast majority of them Bajoran slave workers. Intelligence does not believe their defense troops number above 10,000, so a single Army Corps should be more than enough to secure it, supported of course by a battalion from the 10th Marine PAR (Planetary Assault Regiment)."
"And the value of the leap to Darane?" This question was asked by Air Marshal Anne Polk.
Crawford pointed to it's location on the map. "Darane not only offers us the morale victory of liberating Bajoran land so quickly..." He traced a finger from Darane to around the Cardassian Oversight Authority's borders. "....but an active naval post would give the Navy the range to effectively sever Cardassian-held Bajoran worlds from the rest of their empire. The severing of their supply lines would be of enormous strategic value."
Polk nodded. "And Darane would be a good staging point for our bombers to strike targets on Bajor. We could provide the besieged cities with daily bombing support to prevent their fall. It'll also make the transport flights the President has ordered easier to keep up."
Simonov placed his hands together before looking to General Pierre Lumet. "General Lumet?"
"It is an exposed position, Admiral. Can 5th Fleet maintain it?"
"Given the additional task forces that have finished transiting the gates, I believe so." Simonov looked from the Frenchman back to his English colleagues. "The value of this operation is clear. I will inform Washington of my support while you prepare the forces necessary. That will be all."

[CJvR]

Liberation of the first Bajoran colony, that should be intresting.

Particulary considering the even worse Cardie PR that undoubtedly will result from it.

[Zed Snardbody]

I'm having vissions of Ike touring a concentration camp.

[Steve]

Menzies, New Queensland, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate AR-12
17:13 GST


It was now 13:12 local time in Menzies and the sun was going to be setting soon. New Queensland's rotation took only 20 hours compared to the Earth's 24, meaning that every week had a "catchup day" to maintain pace with Earth standard time.
The planet had been settled for centuries by Australians from the province of the same name, though it also had populations of Pacific Islanders, Indonesians, and Filipinos in some of it's regions. Menzies was on the end of a south-facing peninsula near the sub-tropics, about two hundred kilometers from the planetary capitol of New Townsville. A favored local tourism spot, Menzies was also home to about three hundred thousand people in a spread out set of suburban neighborhoods, the wealthiest being on the beach.
It was in a housing division not far from the eastern beach that the Burellis lived. They had a nice two-story home, with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large living room with an adjoining family room, and all of the commodities of an upper middle-class/lower upper-class home. On the verge of being "wealthy", Anthony and Sonya Burelli lived comfortably with the three sons they still had in the house, from seventeen year-old Patrick down to six year-old Alex. They kept one room unoccupied for Camille, who didn't yet have a home of her own when she wasn't on deployment.
Anthony would be home from work soon, coming from the Brunswick Spacecraft Fighter Production Plant where he worked as an upper level manager commanding the assembly line that built FB-34 Avengers for the Alliance Stellar Navy and Australian Navy. Because it was summertime in Menzies, school was out and Sonya now had to deal with eleven year old Freddy and six year old Alex fighting in the living room over a video game they were playing. Patrick was undoubtedly in his room upstairs looking up holoporn (try as she might, Sonya could never manage to block his access to it) or, if he was being discreet, chatting with buddies on the Internet while playing games.
At about 13:15, Sonya walked out the front door to greet her husband as his sedan pulled up with another behind it. He got out of the car and, in the other one, she noticed Lieutenant Commander Hathford, a fellow New Queenslander who had been in the RASN (Royal Australian Space Navy) and now the ASN. Hathford was the quality assurance man assigned by the Navy to the plant. She had met him before at the celebration dinner after the Navy agreed to grant a production contract for the plant to produce new FB-43 Starfires when they were officially ordered in two years, a contract that would make millions for Anthony and Brunswick Spacecraft Inc. "Anthony, you should have told me that Commander Hathford was coming...." She noticed he looked rather pale and sick. "Is something wrong Anthony?"
He walked up and put his hands on Sonya's shoulders. "Dear, Commander Hathford went ahead and let me know before the official word came." His voice began to choke up. "Darling... Cammie.... Cammie's been killed."
There was a look of utter horror on Sonya's face even as her first mental reaction was to deny it possible. "No, no she can't be! Not my baby girl! No! NOOO!" She held onto her husband closely as they sobbed together. "Not my little Cammie! Please God no!"
From the door of the house, Freddy and Alex watched as their parents embraced and cried. And they were both able to realize why. They had lost their "big sister". Their eyes teared up while Hathford gently helped Anthony bring Sonya into the house while she continued to wail from her grief.
Some of the neighbors had by now noticed what had happened and had easily guessed why, and retiring into their homes, those that remembered Camille recalled who she had been with a tear and a smile. By the next day, the entire neighborhood would be mourning the loss of one of their own, one of many who had made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of their homelands, their families, and what they believed to be true and righteous.



Capital City, Cardassia, Cardassian Union
Universe Designate ST-3
17:19 GST


The military aircar pulled silently up to the Torcet home. "This will only be a minute," Relim assured his driver, the same 5th Ranker from before, before getting out of the car and heading to his home.
Samia was the first to meet him in the main hall. "Gul, we didn't expect to see you so soon."
"I'm only here briefly, then I must return to Central Command. Where are Kerma and Vertal?"
"In the kitchen making dinner for the children."
Relim nodded and walked past Samia toward the kitchen, feeling conflicted about how he would tell them the news. He entered through the door to the hall and faced both of them, preparing vegetables for the meal. "Relim, what are you doing home?" Kerma put her knife down and walked up to him. "I figured that with there being a big war you would be kept at Central Command."
"I have to return there very shortly, but I wanted to be the one to bring you the news. Kerma.... my dear... I'm sorry." A tear came down his face. "Harak is dead."
Kerma had never been one to control her emotions. Her face twisted into an expression of pain and she screamed, "No!" She beat her hands down on Relim's chest, screaming "No!" over and over again before allowing him to embrace her, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Relim looked to Vertal. She was better at controlling herself, and always had been, but there were tears flowing freely from those closed eyes, her face betraying the horrible pain in her very heart. He found himself wondering how Kerma would have reacted if, all those years ago, he had died at Harak's age.
Vertal soon found someone to release grief with. Samia entered the room, her eyes tearing up from having heard the news, and the older Bajoran woman allowed Vertal to embrace her and weep on her shoulder.
An observing Human may have been moved to tears from the very thought of a family mourning a loved one lost. But all but the most hard, cold Cardassians would be as tearful as the family. For all their reputation for cruelty, for ruthlessness, for unwavering mental discipline, Cardassians were in their heart an emotional people who placed their family bonds the highest they could. The sight of a family mourning the death of a beloved son, husband, and father was perhaps the most dreadful of any sights.
And the scene in the Torcet home would be repeated across Cardassian space in thousands of homes, as Cardassian parents, widows and widowers, and orphans mourned the loss of their family, only barely consoled in the belief that their loved ones had died for the defense and glory of Cardassia and her people.

[Steve]

VKFS Pobeda, 27 Light Years from Cardassia-ADN Border, Cardassian Union
17:30 GST


Pobeda limped along as she had been doing for the past 24 hours while her captain grumbled bitterly in his command bridge. During every shift he'd taken, Yefim had looked at his scope and seen legitimate targets come one after the other, moving too fast for Pobeda to intercept at this speed. He could always order the reactor back to maximum safe capacity and restore all plasma flow into the warp systems, but that would mean venting plasma and thus revealing themselves. So he just kept watching the passing ships.
But at about 17:30, Yefim's attention came upon a big contact. A truly big one. He pressed a button on his chair. "Sensors, this is the Captain. What is this Contact 194?"
"Contact 194... looking at it now, Captain...... Captain, her subspace displacement signature is huge. She must be at least one hundred megatons in mass."
Yefim's eyes widened. A one hundred megaton target?! "Is it a warship?!"
"Power output's on the low side. She's either the biggest fucker of a warship ever, or she's a superfreighter of some kind, Captain."
"Any escorts?"
"Reading up to four Cardassian warships with her. I can't determine much because her subspace displacement is partially masking their's."
Yefim nodded and did some quick thinking. "Navigation, bring up the speed and intercept data of Contact 194!"
Yuburov's answer was not long in coming. "Speed is five lyphs. Her course is towards Bajor. Interception impossible at current speed."
"And if we restored the warp coils to full?"
"Sir, we'd have to vent plasma before interception is possible."
But Yefim wasn't willing to give up this prize. "What if we were to hold off on going to 100% on the reactor until we were close? So that we could hit the target before we had to vent plasma?"
There was a smile on Muscovite's face while he ran the numbers and did his calculations. "Helm, course change Three-One-Eight Mark Three-Three-Three and prepare for further course correction. Maintain current speed." After the helmsman confirmed the new course, Yuburov looked back to Yefim. "Captain, if we go to full speed at the ten minute mark, we should intercept them with four minutes to spare before we have to vent plasma. I'd suggest venting right after we fire our first torpedo salvos."
"We will. Ready warp torpedoes! We will go to full alert ten minutes before interception!"


18:03 GST


The Pobeda was now at her interception point, and only one minute remained before the enemy was in weapons range. Yefim gripped his chair arms tightly, watching the mammoth target approach on the subspace scanners. It had to be a transport of some kind, hopefully military. A part of him worried that the Cardassians had civilian passenger ships that massive, but he didn't think it likely.
"Cardassian target coming into range in thirty seconds," Skobelova reported from her station. "I have a firing solution plotted. Tubes One, Three, and Five loaded. Opening outer doors now."
"Enemy vessels closing, Captain..."
"Steady..."
"This is Engineering. Three minutes until plasma buildup reaches critical. Venting necessary, Captain!"
"Vent when I give the word, Mister Kamarov."
Yefim watched and waited for the range to close. The timer set up on the conn counted down. 20..... 15..... 10...
"Opening inner doors! Depressurizing torpedo tubes!"
5...
"Final firing solution ready!"
3...
2...
1...
"In range now, Captain!"
"Fire!"
Three of the six forward torpedo tubes energized and expelled their lethal payloads. The torpedoes raced ahead at over twenty lyphs, closing the range in moments. The Cardassians on the target ship had no time to raise shields before two of the torpedoes successfully hit, the third missing.
There was a massive burst of radiation where the ship had been. The sensor operator's voice crowed over the intercom. "Direct hit, Captain! She was a milk cow and she's been blown to fucking bits!"
"Kamarov, vent plasma now!" Yefim's order had come even as the sensorman declared the target's destruction. "Evasive maneuvers!"
After venting the plasma that had built up in the line, Kamarov "dialed down" the reactor and Pobeda limped away in silence while the escorts to the destroyed ship looked about for her desperately. Yefim smiled grimly. The battle was not over by a long shot....

[Steve]

After some work, based on something my brother did for me, I've come up with a reasonable, if simple, approximation of what the Alliance flag looks like.



Note that the real flag would probably have the torch more detailed, perhaps Hellenic in form, and the circle of stars isn't quite right. And the flag proportions should be the same as the majority of the world's flags (USA, UK, etc.), though it wouldn't stretch the insignia as seen here out. But that's the general idea of the flag and the symbols on some ADN equipment and ships (though things like containers and tanks forgo the circle of stars and just show a simple torch with the four-colored flame).

[Steve]

Ipima Valley, Bajor, Cardassian Union
22:15 GST


Ipima Valley was only about two hundred kilometers from Sal Valley, where the city of Salmio was still besieged by the Cardassians' occupation forces. It's population was only about a hundred thousand, spread out into dozens of villages along the Ipima and Turba Rivers. For thousands of years, Bajorans from Ipima had quietly plowed their fields of grain and tended to their animals, only arming themselves to defend the soil they loved.
There were no Cardassians in Ipima Valley right now, as the Occupation authority considered the area "pacified". There would be an occasional raid by the Anti-Insurgency Forces to rile the locals up, but nothing beyond that, and so the Ipimans quietly continued to work as they always did.
On this day, along a dirt road that wound between the two rivers and the villages along them, a band of young Bajorans from the larger coastal city of Yemenas roared along in an old ATV that predated the Occupation itself. The vehicle, poured by old-fashioned refined petroleum that was one of the few resources in abundance, roared along the dirt track, passing farms and ranches as it traveled between the towns and villages of Ipima. And upon their arrival in each place they visited, the same thing happened.
The sound of the ATV's engine roaring would draw the attention of locals, at least long enough to see the Free Bajor flag held by one of the occupants. As they gathered to see the ATV come through, the man beside the young girl driving the ATV would bring out a bullhorn and began crying out in the Turbani dialect of the Bajoran language. "Rejoice Bajor! The war has begun! Your liberation is at hand! Rejoice!"
The ATV would stop briefly, allowing the crowd to ask what he meant. And then the full speech would be given.
"The Alliance has declared war on Cardassia and has devastated our oppressors in their first attacks! They are coming to drive the Cardassians off of our world! We will be free soon! Rejoice!"
And then they would leave and the townspeople would contemplate what they heard. In some towns, they just went about their business, not wanting to rely upon a single report to think that the invincible might of the Cardassians had actually been bested.
But other towns were more accepting of the news. And in those places, celebrations immediately sprang up as jubilant Bajorans, so used to the hopelessness of slavery, prayed for a redemption that finally seemed close at hand. In one town, a citizen who had done traveling recalled from memory the image he'd seen on a Federation news cast of the Alliance flag, and after hours of work and sewing with his wife, erected a facsimilie at his home. Soon the entire town had them.
When the sun had risen, Ipima Valley's yeomen farmers had already begun their work day as they'd done in the past thousands of years, dreading silently that this might be the day that some Cardassian troops would pass by, take some notice of them, and then come to demand their crops, their meager wealth, or even worse, their daughters. But when the sun set and they returned to their homes for dinner, the dread in their hearts had subsided. Even to those unwilling to be hopeful, there was the tiniest spark there, making them think joyfully of what it would be like to live without the fear of the Cardassians that kept them terrorized from day to day.

[Duken]

*looks at time stamps* one day? wow. Still very good writing. No complaints from me.

[Steve]

Capital City, Cardassia, Cardassian Union
25 November 2153 AST
00:50 GST


Yatar and Kelataza exchanged salutes with Relim when they entered the main briefing room in Central Command. "One and a half million dead in thirty-six hours," Yatar lamented. "The Alliance has launched multiple invasions along our border."
"I am aware."
"Then you are aware that something must be done immediately. But instead you squander time calling in our forces so... meticulously." Yatar stabbed a finger at the map. "2nd Fleet should be counter-attacking on the Alliance border, not heading to Level as you have them!"
"If you send 2nd Fleet against the Alliance now, you will lose them." Relim was busy studying the starmap again. "I think that even you should realize how deadly the Alliance's carriers are to our fleet."
"And you would allow them to simply fly through our space unopposed?"
"I never said that." Relim met Yatar's glare for a moment before turning to Kelataza. "Legate, the threat is the Alliance's carriers. Think of them as a form of force-multiplier. They are flexible, with the ability to launch devastating strikes on our fleet. They must be removed."
"Then we send the fleet in to hunt them."
"Not quite that way, but I have something in mind. As our records from Telkur showed, the carriers are screened by their own escorts, and I'm quite sure the Alliance will have sufficient resources in the vicinity to concentrate their naval strength on a single fleet attacking their carriers. What we must do instead is a diversionary attack, which will require much of our strength to do properly. A main element of the fleet will penetrate Alliance space on a course that could threaten Kensington or New Liberty. This will force the Alliance fleet to come out and do battle. As soon as their carriers' positions are verified, the striking reserve will go after them."
"It sounds risky."
"War is risk, Legate. And would you prefer trying another general confrontation and having their carriers annihilate another fleet?" Relim tapped a few keys and brought up a listing of the four fleets in the region. 1st Fleet still officially existed, though it's 536 ship roster was down to merely 134, of which only 101 were considered combat capable. The Bajoran Sector Fleet was down to 202 ships (205 had survived the battle at Zygola, but three had been torpedoed and destroyed by Alliance stealth attack ships that harrassed the retreat from Alliance space) from 500, of which only 140 were considered combat capable.
Meanwhile, the Federation Frontier Fleet and 2nd Fleet were at full strenght, at 400 and 450 ships respectively. The Frontier Fleet would be arriving with 300 ships, leaving 100 along the Federation border, and 2nd Fleet would have all of it's strength, adding another 750 to their cause. This gave an effective fleet total of 1,024 warships that would be in the same general area in about seven more days.
Relim now laid out how he planned to deal with the Alliance Fleet. 2nd Fleet and the remnants of 1st Fleet and the Bajoran Sector Fleet would be combined and then re-divided into three strike groups that would penetrate Alliance space, attacking targets of opportunity while on course for New Liberty and Kensington. This would hopefully draw the Alliance's carriers out, and after the confirmation of their arrival in the region, the 400 ships from the Federation Frontier Fleet would be sent in to attack the carriers that had been located. Even if they only got two or three, the blow would at least force the Alliance to hold off further offensives and buy time for Cardassia to move in 3rd Fleet and other distant assets.
Kelataza nodded in approval with the plan. They would set the launch date for eight days from now, while ordering the un-attached border squadrons to do what they could to slow or impede the movements of the Alliance's ships into Cardassia. Yatar protested this, insisting that 2nd Fleet be allowed to conduct it's own operations to stop the advance into their territory, but Kelataza overrulled him. Cardassia needed a good, sound military strategy to overcome the Alliance, after all.
Of course, all three men also knew that if this failed, the career and life of Relim Torcet would end soon afterward.

[CJvR]

Getting rid of Torcet seems like the best favor the Legate could do for the Alliance. Ambushing a carrier taskforce is hard, even if it have sent it's strike force on a mission. Even if it succedes the bait is likely to get chewed up quite badly and the carriers will run for cover at the first sign of serious trouble, unless they have a few heavy hitter deployed with them. Either the Cardies will blunt the Alliance offensive or it will be Bajor next. Have those besiged cities on Bajor fallen yet? IIRC the Cardies were under orders to do a Nanking on one of them.

[Steve]

WTC-3 Spirit of Bob Hope, On Sub-Orbital Approach over Bajor
09:13 GST


The WTC-3 interstellar aerospace transport craft Spirit of Bob Hope was one of sixty in the 23rd Special Transport Group of the Aerospace Force. After hours in flight from Krellor, they had successfully slipped through the plasma storms in the Badlands and rendezvoused with two squadrons of F/A-32 Thunderbolts from the James Doolittle that would escort them in to Bajor.
The enemy's Bajoran Sector Fleet was elsewhere, back at major facilities getting repairs, leaving only some light warships and attack craft to cover Bajor. The transports had their own ECSes for this kind of op, but they would be detected the instant they hit suborbit and began to produce re-entry trails.
The fighters from the Doolittle engaged first, clearing the way for the transports to make suborbit with impunity. The frames of the massive WTC-3s glowed red from friction with the upper atmosphere. The target was up ahead for the sixty crews.
Directly over the besieged city of Dolan, the WTC-3s jettisoned multiple pods from their cargo holds. The SHALO (Super High Altitude Low Opening) drop pods were made of a durable ceramic made to survive the stresses and heat of re-entry. They also contained thrust pods and a small computer system with visual sensors and the programming to ensure they landed in the proper area. Several pods fired off bits of thrust as their computers continued to calculate needed vector changes to ensure they fell in Dolan and not in the Cardassian positions around it.
By now the Cardassians had realized what was happening and a dozen attack craft launched from a base about four thousand kilometers away, bearing straight down on the transports. The first squadron finished their drop and fired their engines to escape Bajor's gravity, but the other two squadrons were still in danger. This was the dangerous part of the mission; the fighters could not enter atmosphere to help the transports.
The first Cardassian shots were absorbed by shielding, but that would not last. As the second squadron concluded it's drop and pushed toward space, three compressor beams converged on a transport and blew it apart. A second transport lost one of it's engines to a compressor beam.
Now the planetary defenses joined in as the third squadron finished it's drop. Multiple heavy compressor cannons from planetary locations fired upward. ECM by the transports helped them to survive, but four were destroyed in ten seconds. The squadron commander ordered them to pull out before completing the drop.
Spirit of Bob Hope did not do so immediately. It's crew was carrying what it considered a special cargo among it's drop pods and it wanted to ensure they were delivered. So they remained a crucial five seconds to ensure their drop was complete before they tried to regain altitude.
At that point, five attack craft fired on her at the same moment, and three beams struck home. Spirit of Bob Hope and her half-dozen crew were killed instantly as their craft was turned to vapor and odd pieces of debris.


Dolan, Bajor, Cardassian Union



Straits were dire in Dolan. They were on quarter rations of food and water, and a number of wounded had refused food and water to preserve it for the children huddled in the center of the city. Ammunition for the AK-90s was low - they had run out of raw stock for replicating more - and a number of the fighters had taken ill from all the dust and pulverized concrete in the air. Everyone knew they were doomed, and most of the people would be satisfied dying in the rubble of what had been their homes if only they could get their children to safety.
It was midday in Dolan, with the sound of energy fire not-so-distant with the Cardassians again pressing the eastern quarter, when the trails appeared. High in the sky, so many of them. And as the Bajorans looked on, there were suddenly streaks of Cardassian energy fire and several small explosions. It must have been ships trying to flee Bajor, Gobens thought sadly as he looked up from where he'd been laid down with half his arm burned by a Cardassian heavy weapon's proximity hit (it had vaporized the men beside him). He closed his eyes and wept bitterly at the killing of more of his people.
Within minutes, however, something odd was happening. Cries came as Bajorans recognized small objects drifting downward. Small objects that turned out to be rather big as they came down to the ground, fast enough that one Bajoran had his arm broken when one hit him in the side. Gobens forced himself to stand as Bajorans huddled around the large trunks. Each was emblazoned with a symbol on it's top he recognized; the Alliance torch and it's four-colored flame. "Open them!"
So the order went out, and Gobens could scarcely hide his glee at what was inside. The pod nearest him had a 105mm mortar and plenty of ammunition for it. Another had a heavy machine gun, and another, a high-powered anti-vehicle laser cannon with solar battery.
But that was not all. Several pods had raw replicator stocks for food as well as masses of bagged rations. His people began to gather the rations immediately, although Gobens ensured that a number were taken to the starving children they kept in the bunker of the old Cardassian HQ.
There were trunks with water, with water purifiers and condensers, and other equipment to help them stay alive. Replicator stock for making AK-90 ammunition, mortar ammunition, food, medicine. The sixty craft had each dropped several tons of supplies, enough to keep them alive just a bit longer.
Gobens attention was called to a trunk unlike the others. It, too, had the Alliance torch on it, but it had been decorated with stickers of small colorful animals, five-pointed stars, and other childish things. Gobens recalled the English he'd learned enough to read the note on the trunk. "For the children of Dolan, courtesy of the Spirit of Bob Hope.", followed by a list of six names with accompanying military rank. He pushed the trunk open with his one good arm and looked down at a collection of stuffed plushie dolls and various other things that he assumed were Human toys. He directed that the items be taken to the bunker immediately and assigned several youths to do so.
In the near distance, Gobens could hear the sounds of their new weapons being put to use. Hopefully, this would let them hold out for a little while longer. Just a little while longer....