Don't push your luck.Zed Snardbody wrote:If I keep saying there to short can we keep the good turn around time? Or are you going to throw something at me?
"Anatomy of a War" - Alt-Trekverse Fic
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Zed Snardbody
- Jedi Council Member
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- Joined: 2002-07-11 11:41pm
Well, if the Alliance needs a fresh source of commerce raiders, or extra guards to scare the Cardassians, they just might get the whole Klingon Empire coming in. The Duros family and Martok might agree upon this.. . . as well as two Klingons and an Orion.
If the Klingons come in, the Romulans might do the same, to avoid letting the Klingons get too much influence.
So all those Cardassian ships that were pulled from Klingon and Romulan borders might suddenly get orders to return, while Central Command agrees to whatever the Alliance wants in order to free up its remaining ships.
From there, the Federation might get involved in trying to keep the peace between all the factions.
Also, one thought, would PAPAL point to the nice treatment of the Alliance prisoners as proof that the previous horror stories about the Cardassians are false? Obviously, even against an enemy they are at war against, the Cardassians treat their prisoners fairly. So all those horror stories about horrific Cardassian treatment of prisoners have to be fake, according to PAPAL.
Command Center, Cardassia Prime, Cardassian Union
11 December 2153 AST
11:18 GST
The Cardassian Political Advisory Board was again in session, minus Relim Torcet, now confirmed as dead. Gul Keve was now sitting in his place, having temporarily taken over the Military Strategy Staff. He would be the first to speak when Kelataza called the meeting to order. "The war is lost," he said solemnly. "A quarter of our fleet is in ruins, millions of Cardassian lives have been lost, and the Alliance is rampaging through our space with impunity. Their fleets are intact and their troops, by all reports, are massacring our forces on Bajor and all other worlds where we attempt to put up a fight. The time has come for us to end this. The time has come to sue for peace and to give up Bajor."
Administrator Refimo scowled. The old harpy of the Obsidian Order leveled an angry gaze at him. "The Obsidian Order is against the very idea of backing down. Doing so will jeopardize our control."
"Unless your Order knows of a way to turn the tide of the war, there is no other solution. What hope is there of victory now? Let's not delude ourselves with the madness of a select few who think the Federation can be manipulated into joining the war on our side. The same weakness we often seek to exploit is the weakness that restrains them now." Keve put his hands together on the table. "We have lost billions of tons of shipping capacity. Over two thousand Cardassian ships of war have been lost and hundreds are still in need of repair, repairs our shipyards can't complete fast enough. The enemy has already inflicted damage on our industrial output in the region of the front, destroying our local supply depots as well, both forcing us to use more of the shipping capacity we are so short on to move supplies forward. We cannot even maintain the fighting power of the Federation Frontier Fleet's survivors! The Tsen'kethi Frontier Fleet is relying on their pre-war supply dumps now!"
"Furthermore, the Bajoran uprising and the enemy's early bomber arracks had the side effect of drawing our troops out from their bases. Whole Orders have been trapped in the open and slaughtered by superior firepower and swift thrusts by armored ground vehicles, these 'tanks' that we have no defense against. Bajor cannot be held."
"You are rebuilding Third Fleet, are you not? And we still have Home Fleet and the Tsen'kethi Frontier Fleet."
Keve frowned at Loskat. "Third Fleet will consist primarily of older vessels and with insufficient numbers of active duty professionals in their crews. We've lost over half a million Fleet personnel and we cannot just pull individual Guls and Glins and Senior Technicians or Spacehands out of the formations in our other frontiers to replace them. Gentlemen, Third Fleet and Home Fleet are our last line of defense, not the core of a new striking arm. Our senior planners in the Operations Commission estimate we will need two years just to restore most of our material offensive strength. It could be five years to a decade before our training cadres and academies give any meaningful replenishment to the forces we've lost in this war."
Yatar nodded in agreement. "Emergency conscription can be used to plug up manpower shortages, but effectiveness will be low. All of Cardassia has been demoralized by our string of defeats. We should sue for peace now. We can pin the blame of defeat on Torcet and commanders who were killed in the fighting and keep the people sated. Then we can begin rebuilding."
"Yes. And we can ensure the support of the populace by emphasizing the need to avenge this war. We may lose now, but twenty years from now, a restored Cardassia that has learned the ways of these extrauniversals can defeat them."
All eyes now turned to Kelataza. He nodded slowly. "Very well. Ambassador Kercet will be immediately informed of our new peace terms."
Washington D.C., Earth, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
14:30 GST
The usual White House Conference Room was taken up by President Mamatmas and his senior advisors for a lunchtime meeting on the progress of the war. The liberation of Bajor was continuing far better than expected. Wave One was looking like it could secure the planet by itself and there was already discussions about reducing Wave Two in favor of assigning more divisions to a further offensive into Cardassian territory.
It was such an offensive that was now the source of discussion. "Mister President, we have nearly exhausted our stocks of pre-positioned war material in the Colonial Zone," Marshal Longwell reported. "And the output of the defense plants currently operational in the Colonial Zone is not enough to maintain another offensive. We will rely entirely on shipping from other universes for the rest of the war."
"Are there any more jump point generator ships we can put into the effort?" The question was asked by Umachov. "Some of the neutral nations are already complaining about how much gate activity we're reserving for military traffic. We're not quite to the IUCEC limit yet, but...."
"The latest Cardassian defeat does reduce the need for warship reinforcement. It also reduces the amount of outgoing traffic reserved for combat ships returning for repair, since Kensington can handle many repair needs and we do have a number of mobile dry docks in use. They should be sufficient to finish restoring many ships in the area before the Cardassians can finish redeploying forces from other borders."
"What kind of intel do we have on Cardassian naval movements? Do we know where the remains of their fleets are?"
"What's left of the Cardassian 1st Fleet is still on the border, now at Dervak. We suspect they'll retreat when Percival commences unless they are offered a target weak enough for them to strike." Bronson kept his hands together on the table. "The Cardassian frontier fleet monitoring the Federation border - the one they reduced to use against us at Darane - is still intact for the most part, but Second Darane caused them enough damage that the Cardassians are keeping the fleet in base."
Immediately after Bronson spoke, Admiral Hollingwood leaned forward. "Given the Cardassian activity in the area and the success of our interdiction campaign, we believe that the Cardassian fleet is also hampered by supply problems and cannot effectively sortie. It remains to be seen if the Cardassians will decide to abandon their posts in the region near Bajor and fall back toward their central space where they can more easily protect transport assets, reducing their supply lines in the process."
"Do you think the Cardassians will abandon two sectors just like that?"
"They may not have a choice, Minister Rathbone. Running on minimal supply, they would be in danger from attack either by carrier or by 9th Fleet, which is completely intact and undamaged. Better to abandon the sectors than to lose them and another two hundred ships."
Mamatmas nodded, having heard enough on that particular enemy force. "And anything else? Any other fleet concentrations?"
"Their frontier fleet watching the Tsen'kethi border has made some movements in our direction, but we think the Cardassians will keep them on the border unless they're necessary to stop a major offensive in that region. We'll have to warn Hanse Davion's people to be careful in their advance, and we might want to position a task force from 5th Fleet to support 14th Fleet in the event the Cardassians go for broke and throw the entire fleet into a counterstroke." Hollingwood looked down at a digital assistant. "And there's their Home Fleet, the naval contingent of the Cardassian Home Guard. It's probably the last full concentration of modern Cardassian warships left in their fleet. I suspect it'll cause us problems as we near Cardassia Prime, but the Cardassians can't afford to toss it into action. I think Director Takahara can explain..."
Omiko Takahara nodded and began speaking slowly. "Our analysis of the Cardassian political system shows that most of their leaders have constant fear of removal, and their entire government is almost paranoid with the fear of a coup d'etat. The Home Fleet has long acted as the Cardassian State's force to guarantee them control of the space around Cardassia Prime and neighboring political systems. They have the best equipment and come under the direct command of the Legate. As such, no Cardassian ruler will easily commit them to offensive action for fear of losing them and causing the fall of the government."
"So we probably don't have to worry about them until we start approaching Cardassia Prime itself." Mamatmas nodded at that. "And that's it? They have nothing else?"
"Not quite, Mister President," Hollingwood spoke up. "They still have over a hundred surviving ships from their 2nd Fleet and about twenty or so 3rd Fleet survivors. Though we can't be completely certain of the full nature of their activation programs, we know the Cardassians are scrambling to get their fleet reserves into service and they're pulling squadrons in from other frontiers and sectors. With the survivors of 2nd and 3rd Fleet, they could field perhaps two more of their fleets. With Home Fleet, that would be about a thousand to fifteen hundred ships protecting their core systems, though at least half would be older models. Furthermore, their personnel losses have cost them hundreds of thousands of skilled professional sailors and officers, so their crew performance will undoubtedly suffer."
"Counting their frontier fleets with the Tsen'kethi and the Federation, that's still about two thousand ships, gentlemen. About twice our number. And I don't need to remind you how thin the string is getting." Mamatmas was frowning. "We've got Bajor now and it won't take long to secure it. Let's hope that the Cardassians will see reason and agree to give it up."
There were nods across the room. Discussion now went to the specific logistics, the millions and millions of tons of war material that had to be shipped from supply depots, factories, and warehouses to the Cardassian front, and the sums of money it would cost to produce more and to hire and acquire the necessary transport for it all. As the logistics discussion became heated, it made Mamatmas remember an old saying on the nature of war and the people who studied it: "Amateurs study tactics. Professionals study logistics."
As the meeting continued, one of Mamatmas' personal staff came in and handed him a note. Takahara was speaking, but she stopped as all attention turned toward Mamatmas, who was starting to frown. He looked up and rose from the chair. "One moment, please."
Mamatmas left the conference room and followed his guard detail to an anteroom where Elijah Weisbaum was waiting for him. After the door closed Mamatmas stormed right up to the man and put the ntoe in his face. "Just what in the Hell does this mean?!"
Weisbaum handed him a piece of paper. The statement on it was simple. "No peace without justice" as a header, followed by a word of text insisting that the Alliance bring to justice the Cardassians responsible for the atrocities committed against their enemies, and refusing to accept any peace attempts that did not include the arrest and trial of those responsible. There were over thirty signatures on the paper. "I should think the meaning is obvious, Mister President."
And it was. If the Council were to release the statement publicly, it would undermine Mamatmas' authority and any actual peace negotiations. "Has it ever occurred to you that fulfilling these terms could require an occupation of Cardassia? An occupation we can't afford?"
"We can't afford to let these atrocities go unpunished either," Weisbaum countered. "Find a way. Increase military spending, ask for the member nations to raise more troops, do whatever is necessary to bring these Cardassian criminals to justice. Because we're not going to let the deaths of our soldiers be in vain."
"Do you understand the damage that will be done to this government's standing if you were to release this statement? Do you?"
"Which is why we won't... so long as you amend the peace demands to Cardassia."
"We can't afford to keep fighting Cardassia!" Mamatmas slammed a hand on a nearby table. "We have other concerns! New members who are relying on Alliance protection! Enemies that need watching. Tell me, Representative, is New Israel willing to let us withdraw ships and troops from your borders with Europe and the Berjariak Empire so that we can prosecute the war with Cardassia? Is it?"
"I have enough signatures, President, and there's nothing you can do about it. Either amend the peace terms or this statement gets released to the public. Good day, Mister President." Weisbaum turned and left.
With an angry glare on his face, Mamatmas returned to the conference room. It enraged him to think that Weisbaum had pulled this stunt, even if he agreed with the moral issue. The crimes of Cardassia's leaders had to be punished. But there were more concerns on his mind than justice, and it hardly seemed fair if justice could only be bought by destroying the Cardassian Union as a political body, thus causing mass death and instability when it's neighbors began fighting over the corpse.
When he returned, he had made his decision. He showed the statement to his assembled advisors. As soon as they'd all seen it, he looked to Umachov. "Tell Ambassador Parmika that our peace terms just changed...."
Paris, Earth, United Federation of Planets
Universe Designate ST-3
16:09 GST
Tobis and Kercet were waiting when Parmika entered the conference room near Tobis' office. "Welcome, Ambassador." Tobis stood and a diplomatic handshake was shared - neither liked the other. "Ambassador Kercet has the latest peace offer from Cardassia."
"I do." Kercet certainly didn't look happy. "Cardassia will agree to withdrawing from Bajor and it's worlds. We will recognize the independence of the Bajoran race and return all Bajorans in Cardassian space."
Tobis looked at Parmika with a satisfied smile. That smile would soon vanish.
"Ambassador, I'm afraid it's too late for that." Parmika's expression was stoic as he handed Kercet a Federation PADD with the new peace terms from the Alliance loaded. "These are our new terms."
"New terms?" Tobis spluttered.
Kercet skimmed the text. The first terms were the same, but.... "This is outrageous!" Kercet tossed the PADD onto the table. "We will not surrender our leaders to you for these so-called 'war crimes trials'! We won't have you enforcing your laws on our people!"
"Ambassador, it is now a term of the Alliance that those Cardassians guilty of crimes of war or crimes against the dignity of sentient life be turned over for trial. We're willing to negotiate on the nature of the crout performing the trial, of course. We're actually hoping to use this case to establish a court here in the Alpha Quadrant, an international one specifically to deal with crimes of this magnitude."
Tobis shook his head. Kercet was clearly enraged. "This is a disgrace! Cardassia will never surrender it's leaders to you! We will make you bleed for every parsec!"
"Ambassador, how can you do this to us?" Tobis spoke up now. "We had an acceptable peace prepared and you go and change the goalposts!"
"It's not my decision," Parmika said. "Besides, I would think the Federation would be interested in seeing justice done for it's citizens, the ones we've found in Cardassian camps!"
"The Federation is not responsible for citizens who commit illegal acts in the territory of another race," Tobis replied.
"That's very nice to hear, President Tobis," Parmika guffawed. He looked to Kercet. "So, Cardassia refuses the terms? You're not going to send them to your leaders to see if they approve?"
"I know they won't. These terms are denied. Cardassia will never surrender so completely to you, and we'll make you bleed." Kercet stood from his chair and stormed out.
Parmika saw Tobis' glare and shrugged. He had little patience to deal with the sniveling toad and so he left himself, leaving Tobis to his shattered hopes of brokering a peace and keeping his job.
11 December 2153 AST
11:18 GST
The Cardassian Political Advisory Board was again in session, minus Relim Torcet, now confirmed as dead. Gul Keve was now sitting in his place, having temporarily taken over the Military Strategy Staff. He would be the first to speak when Kelataza called the meeting to order. "The war is lost," he said solemnly. "A quarter of our fleet is in ruins, millions of Cardassian lives have been lost, and the Alliance is rampaging through our space with impunity. Their fleets are intact and their troops, by all reports, are massacring our forces on Bajor and all other worlds where we attempt to put up a fight. The time has come for us to end this. The time has come to sue for peace and to give up Bajor."
Administrator Refimo scowled. The old harpy of the Obsidian Order leveled an angry gaze at him. "The Obsidian Order is against the very idea of backing down. Doing so will jeopardize our control."
"Unless your Order knows of a way to turn the tide of the war, there is no other solution. What hope is there of victory now? Let's not delude ourselves with the madness of a select few who think the Federation can be manipulated into joining the war on our side. The same weakness we often seek to exploit is the weakness that restrains them now." Keve put his hands together on the table. "We have lost billions of tons of shipping capacity. Over two thousand Cardassian ships of war have been lost and hundreds are still in need of repair, repairs our shipyards can't complete fast enough. The enemy has already inflicted damage on our industrial output in the region of the front, destroying our local supply depots as well, both forcing us to use more of the shipping capacity we are so short on to move supplies forward. We cannot even maintain the fighting power of the Federation Frontier Fleet's survivors! The Tsen'kethi Frontier Fleet is relying on their pre-war supply dumps now!"
"Furthermore, the Bajoran uprising and the enemy's early bomber arracks had the side effect of drawing our troops out from their bases. Whole Orders have been trapped in the open and slaughtered by superior firepower and swift thrusts by armored ground vehicles, these 'tanks' that we have no defense against. Bajor cannot be held."
"You are rebuilding Third Fleet, are you not? And we still have Home Fleet and the Tsen'kethi Frontier Fleet."
Keve frowned at Loskat. "Third Fleet will consist primarily of older vessels and with insufficient numbers of active duty professionals in their crews. We've lost over half a million Fleet personnel and we cannot just pull individual Guls and Glins and Senior Technicians or Spacehands out of the formations in our other frontiers to replace them. Gentlemen, Third Fleet and Home Fleet are our last line of defense, not the core of a new striking arm. Our senior planners in the Operations Commission estimate we will need two years just to restore most of our material offensive strength. It could be five years to a decade before our training cadres and academies give any meaningful replenishment to the forces we've lost in this war."
Yatar nodded in agreement. "Emergency conscription can be used to plug up manpower shortages, but effectiveness will be low. All of Cardassia has been demoralized by our string of defeats. We should sue for peace now. We can pin the blame of defeat on Torcet and commanders who were killed in the fighting and keep the people sated. Then we can begin rebuilding."
"Yes. And we can ensure the support of the populace by emphasizing the need to avenge this war. We may lose now, but twenty years from now, a restored Cardassia that has learned the ways of these extrauniversals can defeat them."
All eyes now turned to Kelataza. He nodded slowly. "Very well. Ambassador Kercet will be immediately informed of our new peace terms."
Washington D.C., Earth, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
14:30 GST
The usual White House Conference Room was taken up by President Mamatmas and his senior advisors for a lunchtime meeting on the progress of the war. The liberation of Bajor was continuing far better than expected. Wave One was looking like it could secure the planet by itself and there was already discussions about reducing Wave Two in favor of assigning more divisions to a further offensive into Cardassian territory.
It was such an offensive that was now the source of discussion. "Mister President, we have nearly exhausted our stocks of pre-positioned war material in the Colonial Zone," Marshal Longwell reported. "And the output of the defense plants currently operational in the Colonial Zone is not enough to maintain another offensive. We will rely entirely on shipping from other universes for the rest of the war."
"Are there any more jump point generator ships we can put into the effort?" The question was asked by Umachov. "Some of the neutral nations are already complaining about how much gate activity we're reserving for military traffic. We're not quite to the IUCEC limit yet, but...."
"The latest Cardassian defeat does reduce the need for warship reinforcement. It also reduces the amount of outgoing traffic reserved for combat ships returning for repair, since Kensington can handle many repair needs and we do have a number of mobile dry docks in use. They should be sufficient to finish restoring many ships in the area before the Cardassians can finish redeploying forces from other borders."
"What kind of intel do we have on Cardassian naval movements? Do we know where the remains of their fleets are?"
"What's left of the Cardassian 1st Fleet is still on the border, now at Dervak. We suspect they'll retreat when Percival commences unless they are offered a target weak enough for them to strike." Bronson kept his hands together on the table. "The Cardassian frontier fleet monitoring the Federation border - the one they reduced to use against us at Darane - is still intact for the most part, but Second Darane caused them enough damage that the Cardassians are keeping the fleet in base."
Immediately after Bronson spoke, Admiral Hollingwood leaned forward. "Given the Cardassian activity in the area and the success of our interdiction campaign, we believe that the Cardassian fleet is also hampered by supply problems and cannot effectively sortie. It remains to be seen if the Cardassians will decide to abandon their posts in the region near Bajor and fall back toward their central space where they can more easily protect transport assets, reducing their supply lines in the process."
"Do you think the Cardassians will abandon two sectors just like that?"
"They may not have a choice, Minister Rathbone. Running on minimal supply, they would be in danger from attack either by carrier or by 9th Fleet, which is completely intact and undamaged. Better to abandon the sectors than to lose them and another two hundred ships."
Mamatmas nodded, having heard enough on that particular enemy force. "And anything else? Any other fleet concentrations?"
"Their frontier fleet watching the Tsen'kethi border has made some movements in our direction, but we think the Cardassians will keep them on the border unless they're necessary to stop a major offensive in that region. We'll have to warn Hanse Davion's people to be careful in their advance, and we might want to position a task force from 5th Fleet to support 14th Fleet in the event the Cardassians go for broke and throw the entire fleet into a counterstroke." Hollingwood looked down at a digital assistant. "And there's their Home Fleet, the naval contingent of the Cardassian Home Guard. It's probably the last full concentration of modern Cardassian warships left in their fleet. I suspect it'll cause us problems as we near Cardassia Prime, but the Cardassians can't afford to toss it into action. I think Director Takahara can explain..."
Omiko Takahara nodded and began speaking slowly. "Our analysis of the Cardassian political system shows that most of their leaders have constant fear of removal, and their entire government is almost paranoid with the fear of a coup d'etat. The Home Fleet has long acted as the Cardassian State's force to guarantee them control of the space around Cardassia Prime and neighboring political systems. They have the best equipment and come under the direct command of the Legate. As such, no Cardassian ruler will easily commit them to offensive action for fear of losing them and causing the fall of the government."
"So we probably don't have to worry about them until we start approaching Cardassia Prime itself." Mamatmas nodded at that. "And that's it? They have nothing else?"
"Not quite, Mister President," Hollingwood spoke up. "They still have over a hundred surviving ships from their 2nd Fleet and about twenty or so 3rd Fleet survivors. Though we can't be completely certain of the full nature of their activation programs, we know the Cardassians are scrambling to get their fleet reserves into service and they're pulling squadrons in from other frontiers and sectors. With the survivors of 2nd and 3rd Fleet, they could field perhaps two more of their fleets. With Home Fleet, that would be about a thousand to fifteen hundred ships protecting their core systems, though at least half would be older models. Furthermore, their personnel losses have cost them hundreds of thousands of skilled professional sailors and officers, so their crew performance will undoubtedly suffer."
"Counting their frontier fleets with the Tsen'kethi and the Federation, that's still about two thousand ships, gentlemen. About twice our number. And I don't need to remind you how thin the string is getting." Mamatmas was frowning. "We've got Bajor now and it won't take long to secure it. Let's hope that the Cardassians will see reason and agree to give it up."
There were nods across the room. Discussion now went to the specific logistics, the millions and millions of tons of war material that had to be shipped from supply depots, factories, and warehouses to the Cardassian front, and the sums of money it would cost to produce more and to hire and acquire the necessary transport for it all. As the logistics discussion became heated, it made Mamatmas remember an old saying on the nature of war and the people who studied it: "Amateurs study tactics. Professionals study logistics."
As the meeting continued, one of Mamatmas' personal staff came in and handed him a note. Takahara was speaking, but she stopped as all attention turned toward Mamatmas, who was starting to frown. He looked up and rose from the chair. "One moment, please."
Mamatmas left the conference room and followed his guard detail to an anteroom where Elijah Weisbaum was waiting for him. After the door closed Mamatmas stormed right up to the man and put the ntoe in his face. "Just what in the Hell does this mean?!"
Weisbaum handed him a piece of paper. The statement on it was simple. "No peace without justice" as a header, followed by a word of text insisting that the Alliance bring to justice the Cardassians responsible for the atrocities committed against their enemies, and refusing to accept any peace attempts that did not include the arrest and trial of those responsible. There were over thirty signatures on the paper. "I should think the meaning is obvious, Mister President."
And it was. If the Council were to release the statement publicly, it would undermine Mamatmas' authority and any actual peace negotiations. "Has it ever occurred to you that fulfilling these terms could require an occupation of Cardassia? An occupation we can't afford?"
"We can't afford to let these atrocities go unpunished either," Weisbaum countered. "Find a way. Increase military spending, ask for the member nations to raise more troops, do whatever is necessary to bring these Cardassian criminals to justice. Because we're not going to let the deaths of our soldiers be in vain."
"Do you understand the damage that will be done to this government's standing if you were to release this statement? Do you?"
"Which is why we won't... so long as you amend the peace demands to Cardassia."
"We can't afford to keep fighting Cardassia!" Mamatmas slammed a hand on a nearby table. "We have other concerns! New members who are relying on Alliance protection! Enemies that need watching. Tell me, Representative, is New Israel willing to let us withdraw ships and troops from your borders with Europe and the Berjariak Empire so that we can prosecute the war with Cardassia? Is it?"
"I have enough signatures, President, and there's nothing you can do about it. Either amend the peace terms or this statement gets released to the public. Good day, Mister President." Weisbaum turned and left.
With an angry glare on his face, Mamatmas returned to the conference room. It enraged him to think that Weisbaum had pulled this stunt, even if he agreed with the moral issue. The crimes of Cardassia's leaders had to be punished. But there were more concerns on his mind than justice, and it hardly seemed fair if justice could only be bought by destroying the Cardassian Union as a political body, thus causing mass death and instability when it's neighbors began fighting over the corpse.
When he returned, he had made his decision. He showed the statement to his assembled advisors. As soon as they'd all seen it, he looked to Umachov. "Tell Ambassador Parmika that our peace terms just changed...."
Paris, Earth, United Federation of Planets
Universe Designate ST-3
16:09 GST
Tobis and Kercet were waiting when Parmika entered the conference room near Tobis' office. "Welcome, Ambassador." Tobis stood and a diplomatic handshake was shared - neither liked the other. "Ambassador Kercet has the latest peace offer from Cardassia."
"I do." Kercet certainly didn't look happy. "Cardassia will agree to withdrawing from Bajor and it's worlds. We will recognize the independence of the Bajoran race and return all Bajorans in Cardassian space."
Tobis looked at Parmika with a satisfied smile. That smile would soon vanish.
"Ambassador, I'm afraid it's too late for that." Parmika's expression was stoic as he handed Kercet a Federation PADD with the new peace terms from the Alliance loaded. "These are our new terms."
"New terms?" Tobis spluttered.
Kercet skimmed the text. The first terms were the same, but.... "This is outrageous!" Kercet tossed the PADD onto the table. "We will not surrender our leaders to you for these so-called 'war crimes trials'! We won't have you enforcing your laws on our people!"
"Ambassador, it is now a term of the Alliance that those Cardassians guilty of crimes of war or crimes against the dignity of sentient life be turned over for trial. We're willing to negotiate on the nature of the crout performing the trial, of course. We're actually hoping to use this case to establish a court here in the Alpha Quadrant, an international one specifically to deal with crimes of this magnitude."
Tobis shook his head. Kercet was clearly enraged. "This is a disgrace! Cardassia will never surrender it's leaders to you! We will make you bleed for every parsec!"
"Ambassador, how can you do this to us?" Tobis spoke up now. "We had an acceptable peace prepared and you go and change the goalposts!"
"It's not my decision," Parmika said. "Besides, I would think the Federation would be interested in seeing justice done for it's citizens, the ones we've found in Cardassian camps!"
"The Federation is not responsible for citizens who commit illegal acts in the territory of another race," Tobis replied.
"That's very nice to hear, President Tobis," Parmika guffawed. He looked to Kercet. "So, Cardassia refuses the terms? You're not going to send them to your leaders to see if they approve?"
"I know they won't. These terms are denied. Cardassia will never surrender so completely to you, and we'll make you bleed." Kercet stood from his chair and stormed out.
Parmika saw Tobis' glare and shrugged. He had little patience to deal with the sniveling toad and so he left himself, leaving Tobis to his shattered hopes of brokering a peace and keeping his job.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
Amazing how everybody except "Bloody" Elijah got the shaft that chapter.
A question, Steve. How much of your alt history do you plan on covering in this fic? Till the Cardassian Union as we know it is no more? Till the end of the Dominion Wars? Or until the Federation finally collapses under the weight of their communist practices?
A question, Steve. How much of your alt history do you plan on covering in this fic? Till the Cardassian Union as we know it is no more? Till the end of the Dominion Wars? Or until the Federation finally collapses under the weight of their communist practices?
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
The fic is about what will become called the Winter War of '53 (or the War of Liberation if you're a Bajoran). It will end when the war ends and I show some immediate post-armistice celebrations. Plus I'll throw in an epilogue that will shed light on how the timeline progresses from here.Trogdor wrote:Amazing how everybody except "Bloody" Elijah got the shaft that chapter.
A question, Steve. How much of your alt history do you plan on covering in this fic? Till the Cardassian Union as we know it is no more? Till the end of the Dominion Wars? Or until the Federation finally collapses under the weight of their communist practices?
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
Ah, I see. Thanks.
Of course, if you ever felt the urge to write another fic continuing your alt history, I don't think the rest of the board would object.
Of course, if you ever felt the urge to write another fic continuing your alt history, I don't think the rest of the board would object.
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
So far I've had three in mind.Trogdor wrote:Ah, I see. Thanks.
Of course, if you ever felt the urge to write another fic continuing your alt history, I don't think the rest of the board would object.
"The Anatomy of a Peace" - "Anatomy of a War"'s direct sequel, detailing the peace negotiations after the armistice and all the politics involved. Not likely to be written considering my epilogue plan for "Anatomy of a War".
Idea 2 would come two years before "Anatomy". I have multiple titles in mind - "The Wrath of Paradise" and "To Die As I Have Lived" are the leading competitors - and the story would entail the end of the Clan War with the invasion of Strana Mechty and the suicidal, hopeless and unified Clan defense of their capitol world. It'd be a short story unless I also chose to follow the post-war period and how the Clan worlds are reformed and rebuilt following the annihilation of the Clans.
Idea 3 was inspired by reading SM Stirling's "Island in the Sea of Time" books (I read 'em because of Marina's "Shang Scenario" set in that universe). It would be set over ten years after "Anatomy", with Sharon Carter and Kristina Ivanova among the characters. The basic idea is that an IU jump capable colony ship of 50,000 suffers a misjump and ends up crashlanding on a primitive world where they have to survive.
That's it for now. At times I've joked with Shep about "Alt-Drakafic", which would be set half a century after "Anatomy" with a war between the Alliance and the space-faring Dominate of Draka.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
-
darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
I, personally, like idea 3 and the Draka Joke equally.Steve wrote:So far I've had three in mind.Trogdor wrote:Ah, I see. Thanks.
Of course, if you ever felt the urge to write another fic continuing your alt history, I don't think the rest of the board would object.
"The Anatomy of a Peace" - "Anatomy of a War"'s direct sequel, detailing the peace negotiations after the armistice and all the politics involved. Not likely to be written considering my epilogue plan for "Anatomy of a War".
Idea 2 would come two years before "Anatomy". I have multiple titles in mind - "The Wrath of Paradise" and "To Die As I Have Lived" are the leading competitors - and the story would entail the end of the Clan War with the invasion of Strana Mechty and the suicidal, hopeless and unified Clan defense of their capitol world. It'd be a short story unless I also chose to follow the post-war period and how the Clan worlds are reformed and rebuilt following the annihilation of the Clans.
Idea 3 was inspired by reading SM Stirling's "Island in the Sea of Time" books (I read 'em because of Marina's "Shang Scenario" set in that universe). It would be set over ten years after "Anatomy", with Sharon Carter and Kristina Ivanova among the characters. The basic idea is that an IU jump capable colony ship of 50,000 suffers a misjump and ends up crashlanding on a primitive world where they have to survive.
That's it for now. At times I've joked with Shep about "Alt-Drakafic", which would be set half a century after "Anatomy" with a war between the Alliance and the space-faring Dominate of Draka.
-
Zed Snardbody
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 2449
- Joined: 2002-07-11 11:41pm
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fgalkin
- Carvin' Marvin
- Posts: 14557
- Joined: 2002-07-03 11:51pm
- Location: Land of the Mountain Fascists
- Contact:
What about the Plymouth war and the Fed civil war? That should be an interesting read, featuring an opponent that is actually competent, and is somewhat of a challenge given that the Alliance is fighting on two fronts. You'd have those large space battles you were bragging about.Steve wrote:So far I've had three in mind.Trogdor wrote:Ah, I see. Thanks.
Of course, if you ever felt the urge to write another fic continuing your alt history, I don't think the rest of the board would object.
"The Anatomy of a Peace" - "Anatomy of a War"'s direct sequel, detailing the peace negotiations after the armistice and all the politics involved. Not likely to be written considering my epilogue plan for "Anatomy of a War".
Idea 2 would come two years before "Anatomy". I have multiple titles in mind - "The Wrath of Paradise" and "To Die As I Have Lived" are the leading competitors - and the story would entail the end of the Clan War with the invasion of Strana Mechty and the suicidal, hopeless and unified Clan defense of their capitol world. It'd be a short story unless I also chose to follow the post-war period and how the Clan worlds are reformed and rebuilt following the annihilation of the Clans.
Idea 3 was inspired by reading SM Stirling's "Island in the Sea of Time" books (I read 'em because of Marina's "Shang Scenario" set in that universe). It would be set over ten years after "Anatomy", with Sharon Carter and Kristina Ivanova among the characters. The basic idea is that an IU jump capable colony ship of 50,000 suffers a misjump and ends up crashlanding on a primitive world where they have to survive.
That's it for now. At times I've joked with Shep about "Alt-Drakafic", which would be set half a century after "Anatomy" with a war between the Alliance and the space-faring Dominate of Draka.
Plus, it would have The Road to Hell characters in it.
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin
You mean the Plymouth War and Dominion War, since they're fought concurrently. The First Federation Civil War won't be until 2166 GST, I think. Maybe '64 at the earliest.fgalkin wrote: What about the Plymouth war and the Fed civil war? That should be an interesting read, featuring an opponent that is actually competent, and is somewhat of a challenge given that the Alliance is fighting on two fronts. You'd have those large space battles you were bragging about.
Plus, it would have The Road to Hell characters in it.
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin
The Battle of Alpha Paternis could probably be it's own story.....
And, eh, the only RtH character seen so far would probably be Sara Proctor. And she's not exactly going to be fighting personally, except perhaps in the early phase of the Plymouth War, when IIRC I had her acting as a privateer.
Kellerman, Rymorta, The Sphere
12 December 2153 AST
11:30 GST
The Alliance Embassy in Kellerman was regularly busy with native Rymortians seeking travel visas or Alliance businessmen and travelers checking in. Given the thriving underworld on the planet - including the kidnapping rings that more often than not resulted in a one way ticket to the underground slave market - it was considered a priority by all educated travelers to check in and give an account of what they were doing and where they'd be staying.
In the Embassy, the waiting room was set to the IUNS channel. The embassy waiting room operator, a tan-skinned woman who looked a bit too thin for her size, was watching the news as reporters were discussing the ongoing liberation of Bajor. The site was the town of Ikiv near Salmio, with multiple explosions in the distance as the reporter continued speaking. ".....barrage of Ikiv. After four hours, much of the town has been flattened, and many Cardassians have apparently been killed or have chosen to surrender to Alliance troops encircling the town. Those we've seen so far have a shell-shocked look about them, having never faced an intense bombardment like the one that LXVIII Corps has put them through these past two days. By all accounts, the entire Cardassian pocket is on the verge of surrender...."
The doors swung open, and the woman was subjected to an interesting sight. Two Marines flanked a gaggle of Cardassians; an old woman, a younger woman holding an infant, and three children. A Bajoran woman of middle-age stepped out from between them and walked forward. She spoke in native Bajoran. The secretary didn't understand it, so she held up a finger, brought up a headset, and tapped into her computer to bring up auto-translator systems. "What is it, ma'am?"
"I am Samia Torcet, and this is my family. We are the family of Gul Relim Torcet and we come seeking political asylum in the Alliance of Democratic Nations."
The Embassy operator keyed up the intercom. "Gina, get me the Charge d'Affairs...."
Zachary Carrey was waiting outside a hotel room in the upscale section of Ushiba when the door finally opened. Kristin Ignacian stepped out, looking rather lovely in a low-cut blouse and dress. She smiled at him and he gave her his own quick smile, showing some of the interest that his profesionalism restrained. "Follow me," she said. "You'll see what you're paying for."
They walked down to another section of the hotel but on the same floor. A few knocks at the door and Zack was face to face with an older Romulan, salt-bearded with somewhat whiter hair. He was in a night robe with long sleeved; obviously middle-aged given his hair color and the slight lines and wrinkles in his face, though he had a gruff demeanor and strong build. "Zara, this is your friend?"
"Yes, H'daen. Zachary, this is H'daen. He's a Romulan adventurer." She said that last line with a smirk on her face.
"H'daen, my pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine." H'daen shook Zachary's hand. With the handshake, H'daen slipped a data chip into Zachary's hand. Zack palmed it and slipped it into his pocket when the handshake ended. "I have a good friend on Cardassia who's gone to a lot of trouble to set this meeting up. Make sure it's not for nothing."
"Oh, I'll make sure." Zack looked to Kristin. "Coming, Zara?"
"I'll talk to you later." Kristin grinned at H'daen. "I have some things to catch up on with H'daen."
Zack grinned, with a small pang of jealousy, and walked away, leaving Kristin to enter H'daen's room. H'daen locked the room and they embraced, sharing a lustful kiss. When it ended he remarked, "I have the hlai and a bottle of your human red wine. Shall we?"
"We shall," she said, holding his hand as they walked further into the suite.
12 December 2153 AST
11:30 GST
The Alliance Embassy in Kellerman was regularly busy with native Rymortians seeking travel visas or Alliance businessmen and travelers checking in. Given the thriving underworld on the planet - including the kidnapping rings that more often than not resulted in a one way ticket to the underground slave market - it was considered a priority by all educated travelers to check in and give an account of what they were doing and where they'd be staying.
In the Embassy, the waiting room was set to the IUNS channel. The embassy waiting room operator, a tan-skinned woman who looked a bit too thin for her size, was watching the news as reporters were discussing the ongoing liberation of Bajor. The site was the town of Ikiv near Salmio, with multiple explosions in the distance as the reporter continued speaking. ".....barrage of Ikiv. After four hours, much of the town has been flattened, and many Cardassians have apparently been killed or have chosen to surrender to Alliance troops encircling the town. Those we've seen so far have a shell-shocked look about them, having never faced an intense bombardment like the one that LXVIII Corps has put them through these past two days. By all accounts, the entire Cardassian pocket is on the verge of surrender...."
The doors swung open, and the woman was subjected to an interesting sight. Two Marines flanked a gaggle of Cardassians; an old woman, a younger woman holding an infant, and three children. A Bajoran woman of middle-age stepped out from between them and walked forward. She spoke in native Bajoran. The secretary didn't understand it, so she held up a finger, brought up a headset, and tapped into her computer to bring up auto-translator systems. "What is it, ma'am?"
"I am Samia Torcet, and this is my family. We are the family of Gul Relim Torcet and we come seeking political asylum in the Alliance of Democratic Nations."
The Embassy operator keyed up the intercom. "Gina, get me the Charge d'Affairs...."
Zachary Carrey was waiting outside a hotel room in the upscale section of Ushiba when the door finally opened. Kristin Ignacian stepped out, looking rather lovely in a low-cut blouse and dress. She smiled at him and he gave her his own quick smile, showing some of the interest that his profesionalism restrained. "Follow me," she said. "You'll see what you're paying for."
They walked down to another section of the hotel but on the same floor. A few knocks at the door and Zack was face to face with an older Romulan, salt-bearded with somewhat whiter hair. He was in a night robe with long sleeved; obviously middle-aged given his hair color and the slight lines and wrinkles in his face, though he had a gruff demeanor and strong build. "Zara, this is your friend?"
"Yes, H'daen. Zachary, this is H'daen. He's a Romulan adventurer." She said that last line with a smirk on her face.
"H'daen, my pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine." H'daen shook Zachary's hand. With the handshake, H'daen slipped a data chip into Zachary's hand. Zack palmed it and slipped it into his pocket when the handshake ended. "I have a good friend on Cardassia who's gone to a lot of trouble to set this meeting up. Make sure it's not for nothing."
"Oh, I'll make sure." Zack looked to Kristin. "Coming, Zara?"
"I'll talk to you later." Kristin grinned at H'daen. "I have some things to catch up on with H'daen."
Zack grinned, with a small pang of jealousy, and walked away, leaving Kristin to enter H'daen's room. H'daen locked the room and they embraced, sharing a lustful kiss. When it ended he remarked, "I have the hlai and a bottle of your human red wine. Shall we?"
"We shall," she said, holding his hand as they walked further into the suite.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
-
fgalkin
- Carvin' Marvin
- Posts: 14557
- Joined: 2002-07-03 11:51pm
- Location: Land of the Mountain Fascists
- Contact:
Yeah, that's what I meant. All the dates and events got me confusedSteve wrote:You mean the Plymouth War and Dominion War, since they're fought concurrently. The First Federation Civil War won't be until 2166 GST, I think. Maybe '64 at the earliest.fgalkin wrote: What about the Plymouth war and the Fed civil war? That should be an interesting read, featuring an opponent that is actually competent, and is somewhat of a challenge given that the Alliance is fighting on two fronts. You'd have those large space battles you were bragging about.
Plus, it would have The Road to Hell characters in it.
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin
. Still, that'd be something. And you can insert some Anatomy characters as well.
The Battle of Alpha Paternis could probably be it's own story.....
And, eh, the only RtH character seen so far would probably be Sara Proctor. And she's not exactly going to be fighting personally, except perhaps in the early phase of the Plymouth War, when IIRC I had her acting as a privateer.
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin
Dolan, Bajor
12:10 GST
Gobens Drayo was dying. The day prior, he had personally led a counter-attack against a desperate Cardassian push that nearly broke through the Bajoran lines in the south of Dolan. He had taken three phaser hits during the vicious firefight, winning the day but guaranteeing his death.
He laid now in the presence of many of his countrymen, including what was left of the cabal that had followed him in rallying Dolan into revolt. His nephew Toran put a hand on his forehead. "Uncle Drayo..."
With great effort, Gobens looked at young Toran. The nineteen year old boy was as haggard as any other in the city, five different wounds on him from glancing blows or non-fatal hits. Leaning beside him was his lover Ivimi, a lovely girl with honey-blond hair. They held hands together at Gobens' side. "Toran.... I'm sorry... I cost you your parents."
"Don't apologize, Uncle." Toran's face showed a painful smile. "Uncle... the Cardassians in the west have abandoned the road. Come and see!"
With a disapproving look from an older Bajoran doctor, Gobens nevertheless allowed his nephew and others to lift him to his legs. With great effort Toran carried his dying uncle to the roof, a vantage point from which his binoculars could range out to the forest surrounding Dolan. He handed the electronic device to Gobens, who brought it up to his eyes and zoomed in on the familiar site of the Cardassian camp just by the road - the camp that had repulsed their prior attack when they fought to smuggle their children, and the camp from which Gul Odar had led the siege of Dolan.
In the middle of the camp was the flagpole, from which the traditional sinister symbol of the Cardassian State had long flown. But Gobens now saw that it was gone, replaced by the four-colored flame and circle of stars of the Alliance flag. A gleeful smile crossed his face as he lowed the binoculars. "We are saved," he said weakly. "Thank the Prophets, we are saved. I have not failed."
All of the sudden, Gobens was sad. Sad that for so long he had forsaken hope and only fought out of a sense of stubborness, a determination to die rather than remain a slave. Now his wildest dream had come true - mighty Cardassia, invincible Cardassia, unstoppable Cardassia was being driven out! With all of his heart Gobens prayed his thanks to the Prophets, whom he had long forsaken in his heart. He wept joyously despite the knowledge that his death was only moments away.
"Uncle, look!"
Now Gobens turned his attention to a nearby road and the tumult. Bajorans of all ages stood from rooftops and the street sides, raising their weapons and cheering loudly at the rumble of passing armored vehicles. Alliance troops sat upon those vehicles of steel, returning the waves and flying their flag proudly.
"Uncle, we are free." Toran's eyes filled with tears as well. "We are free!"
"I know, Toran. I know." Gobens took his newphew's hand. "This new world is your's Toran. For all of my sins, for all I've failed to do for you and your mother, I can only give you this. I love you, nephew, and I hope you and Ivimi have a happier life than I did. Live well and do what you must so that your children will never know terror or want. The Prophets will do the rest." Gobens' chest began to still. His eyes looked skyward and he yielded finally to the pain in his body, his spirit freed finally from the bitter - if triumphant - struggle that had marked his life.
Toran and his love wept as they laid his body down. While Ivimi held his left hand softly, Toran used his right to close his uncle's eyes. "Go with the Prophets, Uncle. Go to a place where there is no sadness, and the children can play outside in the sun."
Ipima Valley, Bajor
18:15 GST
As the 12th of December wore on, the farmers and townspeople in Ipima Valley ceased their work and assembled upon the major roads to see the sight now offered. For miles along the dusty roads, armored fighting vehicles and tanks of the Alliance Army rolled along, racing torward Yemenas to beat the Cardassian 399th Mechanized Order to the pivotal coast city. They were the 777th Division, also known as the Lucky Sevens, and primarily American with a few intermixed Canadians and Mexicans plus an attached armored battalion from the Russian Army. The flags of the United States, the Russian Federation, and the Alliance of Democratic Nations that they were a part of flew from the tops of their vehicles to the cheers of the Bajorans who watched them pass. Young women giggled at the sight of handsome Human men blowing them kisses while children ran for the candies and treats thrown by some of the passing soldiers. The young Russian tankers sang one of their army's tank marches, thrilled at the prospect of cutting off the Cardassians and crushing the "mother-fucking lizard pigs" (or so the insult name for the Cardassians was in their native Russian) with the firepower of their T-205s. Some of the Americans hummed "The Cassions Go Rolling Along" or "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", waving at the Bajoran farmers as they moved onward.
As the column passed through each town, the flags that had been worked on secretly since the war began flew from every town and village hall and even from homes and temples. Some of the renditions of the Alliance flag were crude, and a few were clearly done by children, but they made the soldiers proud as they rode through the Valley. Words and ideals were one thing, but to actually see the happy faces of the local Bajorans, to hear their adulations and to see their joy, made the entire war worthwhile to many of those watching. This was real to them.
Seated in the command hatch of an IFV-3, Lieutenant Richard Howe looked back to some of his soldiers sitting on the top of the vehicle and out to the cheering Bajorans, noticing some had broken out into song, Howe could see his own troops caught up in the spirit of the moment. And so a song generally came from them, something many had learned since joining the military or knew as hymns in church back when they were children and their relatives and countrymen were off fighting the Agresskan.
12:10 GST
Gobens Drayo was dying. The day prior, he had personally led a counter-attack against a desperate Cardassian push that nearly broke through the Bajoran lines in the south of Dolan. He had taken three phaser hits during the vicious firefight, winning the day but guaranteeing his death.
He laid now in the presence of many of his countrymen, including what was left of the cabal that had followed him in rallying Dolan into revolt. His nephew Toran put a hand on his forehead. "Uncle Drayo..."
With great effort, Gobens looked at young Toran. The nineteen year old boy was as haggard as any other in the city, five different wounds on him from glancing blows or non-fatal hits. Leaning beside him was his lover Ivimi, a lovely girl with honey-blond hair. They held hands together at Gobens' side. "Toran.... I'm sorry... I cost you your parents."
"Don't apologize, Uncle." Toran's face showed a painful smile. "Uncle... the Cardassians in the west have abandoned the road. Come and see!"
With a disapproving look from an older Bajoran doctor, Gobens nevertheless allowed his nephew and others to lift him to his legs. With great effort Toran carried his dying uncle to the roof, a vantage point from which his binoculars could range out to the forest surrounding Dolan. He handed the electronic device to Gobens, who brought it up to his eyes and zoomed in on the familiar site of the Cardassian camp just by the road - the camp that had repulsed their prior attack when they fought to smuggle their children, and the camp from which Gul Odar had led the siege of Dolan.
In the middle of the camp was the flagpole, from which the traditional sinister symbol of the Cardassian State had long flown. But Gobens now saw that it was gone, replaced by the four-colored flame and circle of stars of the Alliance flag. A gleeful smile crossed his face as he lowed the binoculars. "We are saved," he said weakly. "Thank the Prophets, we are saved. I have not failed."
All of the sudden, Gobens was sad. Sad that for so long he had forsaken hope and only fought out of a sense of stubborness, a determination to die rather than remain a slave. Now his wildest dream had come true - mighty Cardassia, invincible Cardassia, unstoppable Cardassia was being driven out! With all of his heart Gobens prayed his thanks to the Prophets, whom he had long forsaken in his heart. He wept joyously despite the knowledge that his death was only moments away.
"Uncle, look!"
Now Gobens turned his attention to a nearby road and the tumult. Bajorans of all ages stood from rooftops and the street sides, raising their weapons and cheering loudly at the rumble of passing armored vehicles. Alliance troops sat upon those vehicles of steel, returning the waves and flying their flag proudly.
"Uncle, we are free." Toran's eyes filled with tears as well. "We are free!"
"I know, Toran. I know." Gobens took his newphew's hand. "This new world is your's Toran. For all of my sins, for all I've failed to do for you and your mother, I can only give you this. I love you, nephew, and I hope you and Ivimi have a happier life than I did. Live well and do what you must so that your children will never know terror or want. The Prophets will do the rest." Gobens' chest began to still. His eyes looked skyward and he yielded finally to the pain in his body, his spirit freed finally from the bitter - if triumphant - struggle that had marked his life.
Toran and his love wept as they laid his body down. While Ivimi held his left hand softly, Toran used his right to close his uncle's eyes. "Go with the Prophets, Uncle. Go to a place where there is no sadness, and the children can play outside in the sun."
Ipima Valley, Bajor
18:15 GST
As the 12th of December wore on, the farmers and townspeople in Ipima Valley ceased their work and assembled upon the major roads to see the sight now offered. For miles along the dusty roads, armored fighting vehicles and tanks of the Alliance Army rolled along, racing torward Yemenas to beat the Cardassian 399th Mechanized Order to the pivotal coast city. They were the 777th Division, also known as the Lucky Sevens, and primarily American with a few intermixed Canadians and Mexicans plus an attached armored battalion from the Russian Army. The flags of the United States, the Russian Federation, and the Alliance of Democratic Nations that they were a part of flew from the tops of their vehicles to the cheers of the Bajorans who watched them pass. Young women giggled at the sight of handsome Human men blowing them kisses while children ran for the candies and treats thrown by some of the passing soldiers. The young Russian tankers sang one of their army's tank marches, thrilled at the prospect of cutting off the Cardassians and crushing the "mother-fucking lizard pigs" (or so the insult name for the Cardassians was in their native Russian) with the firepower of their T-205s. Some of the Americans hummed "The Cassions Go Rolling Along" or "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", waving at the Bajoran farmers as they moved onward.
As the column passed through each town, the flags that had been worked on secretly since the war began flew from every town and village hall and even from homes and temples. Some of the renditions of the Alliance flag were crude, and a few were clearly done by children, but they made the soldiers proud as they rode through the Valley. Words and ideals were one thing, but to actually see the happy faces of the local Bajorans, to hear their adulations and to see their joy, made the entire war worthwhile to many of those watching. This was real to them.
Seated in the command hatch of an IFV-3, Lieutenant Richard Howe looked back to some of his soldiers sitting on the top of the vehicle and out to the cheering Bajorans, noticing some had broken out into song, Howe could see his own troops caught up in the spirit of the moment. And so a song generally came from them, something many had learned since joining the military or knew as hymns in church back when they were children and their relatives and countrymen were off fighting the Agresskan.
Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord!
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored!
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword!
His truth is marching on!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watchfires
Of a hundred circling camps!
They have builded Him an altar
In the evening dews and damps!
I can read His righteous sentence
By the dim and flaring lamps!
His day is marching on!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea!
With a glory in His bosom
That transfigures you and me!
As He died to make men holy
Let us die to make men free!
While God is marching on!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
Bravo!
Keep up the good work.
Keep up the good work.
"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."- General Sir Charles Napier
Oderint dum metuant
Oderint dum metuant
XLII Corps Field HQ, Bajor
13 December 2153 AST
03:15 GST
The captured Cardassian HQ at Remila had been chosen to field the headquarters of XLII Corps, 14th Army, as it continued to consolidate it's hold on Morala Province. The Cardassian war room had been converted to something that Lieutenant General Matthew Thorpe and his staff found useful, with writing boards and displays moved in to provide him with information on the dispositiions of all of his forces.
At the moment, his three divisional commanders were meeting with him in person for the first time since the invasion began. Seated in order of rough seniority around him were Major General Penelope Winslow of the 59th Division, Major General Gerrard Kinsley of the 555th Division, and Major General Uwe von Hannover of the 9th Cavalry Division. Further down were their chiefs of staff, the commanders of his Corps-level support units, and their staffs. On the table was a map of one of the largest cities on Bajor. Perched within two hillsides, Dalkyra was also one of the oldest, possessing an elaborate network of underground tunnels used for urban sanitation, shelter, some within the hills even being extensions of the town's main avenues with housing and other structures. Within those structures were still up to half a million Bajorans, as well as 50,000 Cardassian troops scattered in strategic points and dug in heavily, killing anything that got too close.
"We could ask the Aerospace Force to launch a bomber strike to remove the Cardassian positions," General Winslow stated. "Or use an artillery barrage."
"If you do so, you could collapse entire portions of the city. And there's no guarantee that there won't be anough Cardassian survivors to simply dig in harder within the rubble." Kinsley tapped a finger on the map. "We're going to have to force the Cardassians out."
"You want to wage an urban battle in that kind of city, General? The casualties...."
"The casualties among the Bajoran civilians still trapped within the city would sink our careers more than the casualties among our troops in opening avenues of escape for them." After a moment's pause Kinsley continued. "We can send in troops to take and secure the key avenues of transport in the city. Isolate the individual Cardassian concentrations and open up routes of escape for the Bajorans still in the city."
"And which division do you propose perform this task, General?" Thorpe asked.
"The 555th can be in position to enter Dalkyra with complete support by the Corps' attached elements within 36 hours. Just give me the word and I'll get everything started."
"Casualties could be severe," Winslow warned. "And your division is green."
"On paper, yes. But I should point out that a number of the Bajorans we allowed to climb to key NCO positions have experience fighting the Cardassians. I have no doubt some are familiar with fighting in urban environments or other situations emphasizing small unit operations. And I'll add that my troops want to participate in this campaign and they want to do something more than guard abandoned Cardassian bases and roads. We're the closest to Dalkyra. Let us begin to push into the city to take the key transit points. Other divisions can move up and join us as needed."
There were glances from all corners. Finally Thorpe nodded. "General Kinsley, please deliver to my staff a timetable for operations against Dalkyra. In the meanwhile, get your troops moving. Set operations to begin at 2000 hours GST on the 14th."
"Immediately, General..."
Dalkyra, Bajor
14 December 2153 AST
21:25 GST
Tevil held his MP-10 close to his chest and drew in a breath. In the distance, the sounds of explosions signaled the continuing artillery barrage upon any Cardassian target that presented itself.
Korvys was looking at a picture of his wife and child as their vehicle rumbled along slowly on a road into the city. They were part of a larger operation, their battalion assigned to a slow advance in this sector to seize four key road crossings through which Bajoran inhabitants of Dalkyra might escape. The Cardassians were expected to put up a stiff resistance. "I never thought about it until now," Korvys said, "but I just realized that I might never see them again."
"Best not to talk like that," Tevil replied. "Just keep your mind on surviving and you'll get home to them in no time. We'll be heroes, Korvys."
"Yes, yes...." Korvys looked at Tevil. As he did so, the sergeant overseeing their squad ordered them to dismount. As if to emphasize why, there was an audible whine of energy fire that echoed strangely along the vehicle - it had been hit, but not by a weapon of sufficient power. "Tevil, if something happens...."
"Nothing is going to happen, Korvys." The younger Bajoran gave his friend a wink. "We're going to kick them out and bring our families back home to Bajor." Noticing Korvys' expression, Tevil nodded. "And yes, if something happens, I'll let your family know how much you cared for them and loved them."
"Thank you." They jumped out of the vehicle as another yellowish phaser beam struck it's armor, starting to cut into it. One of the beams fell silent as a rifle fire came down on it's origin position. Korvys heard the platoon radioman begin to call for fire support. ".....grid square Golf India Niner Four."
"Confirmed third on the board," a voice crackled in response. "Spotting round in forty-five...."
Tevil pulled on his helmet, though it was as tight as it could get already. He swallowed as he took up his position, the sounds of battle everywhere.
The Siege of Dalkyra had begun.
13 December 2153 AST
03:15 GST
The captured Cardassian HQ at Remila had been chosen to field the headquarters of XLII Corps, 14th Army, as it continued to consolidate it's hold on Morala Province. The Cardassian war room had been converted to something that Lieutenant General Matthew Thorpe and his staff found useful, with writing boards and displays moved in to provide him with information on the dispositiions of all of his forces.
At the moment, his three divisional commanders were meeting with him in person for the first time since the invasion began. Seated in order of rough seniority around him were Major General Penelope Winslow of the 59th Division, Major General Gerrard Kinsley of the 555th Division, and Major General Uwe von Hannover of the 9th Cavalry Division. Further down were their chiefs of staff, the commanders of his Corps-level support units, and their staffs. On the table was a map of one of the largest cities on Bajor. Perched within two hillsides, Dalkyra was also one of the oldest, possessing an elaborate network of underground tunnels used for urban sanitation, shelter, some within the hills even being extensions of the town's main avenues with housing and other structures. Within those structures were still up to half a million Bajorans, as well as 50,000 Cardassian troops scattered in strategic points and dug in heavily, killing anything that got too close.
"We could ask the Aerospace Force to launch a bomber strike to remove the Cardassian positions," General Winslow stated. "Or use an artillery barrage."
"If you do so, you could collapse entire portions of the city. And there's no guarantee that there won't be anough Cardassian survivors to simply dig in harder within the rubble." Kinsley tapped a finger on the map. "We're going to have to force the Cardassians out."
"You want to wage an urban battle in that kind of city, General? The casualties...."
"The casualties among the Bajoran civilians still trapped within the city would sink our careers more than the casualties among our troops in opening avenues of escape for them." After a moment's pause Kinsley continued. "We can send in troops to take and secure the key avenues of transport in the city. Isolate the individual Cardassian concentrations and open up routes of escape for the Bajorans still in the city."
"And which division do you propose perform this task, General?" Thorpe asked.
"The 555th can be in position to enter Dalkyra with complete support by the Corps' attached elements within 36 hours. Just give me the word and I'll get everything started."
"Casualties could be severe," Winslow warned. "And your division is green."
"On paper, yes. But I should point out that a number of the Bajorans we allowed to climb to key NCO positions have experience fighting the Cardassians. I have no doubt some are familiar with fighting in urban environments or other situations emphasizing small unit operations. And I'll add that my troops want to participate in this campaign and they want to do something more than guard abandoned Cardassian bases and roads. We're the closest to Dalkyra. Let us begin to push into the city to take the key transit points. Other divisions can move up and join us as needed."
There were glances from all corners. Finally Thorpe nodded. "General Kinsley, please deliver to my staff a timetable for operations against Dalkyra. In the meanwhile, get your troops moving. Set operations to begin at 2000 hours GST on the 14th."
"Immediately, General..."
Dalkyra, Bajor
14 December 2153 AST
21:25 GST
Tevil held his MP-10 close to his chest and drew in a breath. In the distance, the sounds of explosions signaled the continuing artillery barrage upon any Cardassian target that presented itself.
Korvys was looking at a picture of his wife and child as their vehicle rumbled along slowly on a road into the city. They were part of a larger operation, their battalion assigned to a slow advance in this sector to seize four key road crossings through which Bajoran inhabitants of Dalkyra might escape. The Cardassians were expected to put up a stiff resistance. "I never thought about it until now," Korvys said, "but I just realized that I might never see them again."
"Best not to talk like that," Tevil replied. "Just keep your mind on surviving and you'll get home to them in no time. We'll be heroes, Korvys."
"Yes, yes...." Korvys looked at Tevil. As he did so, the sergeant overseeing their squad ordered them to dismount. As if to emphasize why, there was an audible whine of energy fire that echoed strangely along the vehicle - it had been hit, but not by a weapon of sufficient power. "Tevil, if something happens...."
"Nothing is going to happen, Korvys." The younger Bajoran gave his friend a wink. "We're going to kick them out and bring our families back home to Bajor." Noticing Korvys' expression, Tevil nodded. "And yes, if something happens, I'll let your family know how much you cared for them and loved them."
"Thank you." They jumped out of the vehicle as another yellowish phaser beam struck it's armor, starting to cut into it. One of the beams fell silent as a rifle fire came down on it's origin position. Korvys heard the platoon radioman begin to call for fire support. ".....grid square Golf India Niner Four."
"Confirmed third on the board," a voice crackled in response. "Spotting round in forty-five...."
Tevil pulled on his helmet, though it was as tight as it could get already. He swallowed as he took up his position, the sounds of battle everywhere.
The Siege of Dalkyra had begun.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
-
Zed Snardbody
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 2449
- Joined: 2002-07-11 11:41pm
Due to pressing problems (health and financial), I will be offline for a while (several weeks possibly), and unless I get an update done by Friday morning, it's likely to be a while before this is concluded. While offline, however, I will try to finish as much of the story as possible, so long as my current neurological condition (potential neuropathy) cooperates.
Sorry, everyone. I will say that I am grateful to have gotten so many good fans. I never expected this work would get such a huge following.
Sorry, everyone. I will say that I am grateful to have gotten so many good fans. I never expected this work would get such a huge following.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
-
darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
-
Zed Snardbody
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 2449
- Joined: 2002-07-11 11:41pm
-
fgalkin
- Carvin' Marvin
- Posts: 14557
- Joined: 2002-07-03 11:51pm
- Location: Land of the Mountain Fascists
- Contact:
Good luck, and don't strain yourself on our account. We can wait for the updates, your health and your home are much more important than this fic.Steve wrote:Due to pressing problems (health and financial), I will be offline for a while (several weeks possibly), and unless I get an update done by Friday morning, it's likely to be a while before this is concluded. While offline, however, I will try to finish as much of the story as possible, so long as my current neurological condition (potential neuropathy) cooperates.
Sorry, everyone. I will say that I am grateful to have gotten so many good fans. I never expected this work would get such a huge following.
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin
Second that, bud.darthdavid wrote:I wish you the best of luck. And don't sweat the fic, focus on getting well.
Health comes before the story.
"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."- General Sir Charles Napier
Oderint dum metuant
Oderint dum metuant
Korvela, Mapakar, Cardassian Union (under ADN Occupation)
15 December 2153 AST
00:45 GST
The planet of Mapakar was one of Cardassia's many settled worlds near what became the Alliance-Cardassian border. Attacked in the second wave of the Alliance's war-opening offensive, Mapakar's small population meant that only one division, the 52nd, had been assigned to garrison it. Now nearly three weeks after the initial landings, the 52nd Division was mostly engaged in removing die-hard Cardassian militia whenever they popped up. In this case, they emerged from the forests of Korvela and taken the small frontier town of the same name, attempting to impress local adults and to seize needed food and other supplies.
Seated in the commander's position in the turret of the M3-3A3 flamethrower tank "Trogdor", 1st Lieutenant Amy Byrd commanded one of the platoons of tanks in Bravo Company of the 29th Armored Battalion. Bravo Company had been specifically equipped with flamethrower tanks for fighting with infantry - that was being put to use now as they systematically demolished the Cardassian militia.
Clad entirely in standard Army tanker BDUs - including helmet and air-sealed jacket, pants, and boots - she was kept from feeling most of the heat from the tank's weapon as it shot a plume of white-hot flame a hundred yards down the street where a squad of Cardassian infantry were firing from a building. The flame spread as it gained distance and burned right into the mostly wooden structure. Screams came next as humanoid figures flailed about in the inferno, mercifully dying as Amy triggered Trogdor's 8mm Colt.
"That takes care of that position." She turned to the command tactical display in the turret. The other four tanks in her platoon were spread on other streets, moving toward enemy positions. Looking down into the bowels of the tank toward the driver, Amy said, "We're getting a request for support in square Foxtrot Golf Three Six. Get us there, best route."
"Yes Sir."
Looking to her side, Amy keyed in similar orders to the Sergeants commanding the other four tanks in her platoon. "Let's go burninate some more of the spoonheads."
Camp Kagasawa (29th Armored Battalion Bravo Company Bivouac), Mapakar
11:45 GST
Hours after the fight for Korvela, the unit had returned to camp to resume conventional garrison duties. Between the usual patrols, they typically stayed to themselves, since Mapakar didn't have much in the way of a public life and the locals were considered unfriendly.
Having participated in a debriefing with her commanders, Amy went to the metal-alloy prefab structure that acted as the shower for her company. After washing she dressed and returned to the prefab barracks her platoon was assigned.
Aside from one single glaring exception, Amy Byrd looked to be a normal Japanese-Caucasian woman of young age - she was twenty-seven - with a build sufficient for military service, if not definitively athletic or muscular. The exception was her hair. Far from the dark hair associated with Oriental Humans, Amy's hair was a rich purple color, the result of gene-engineering commonly available in the Alliance. She grew it to regulation length down to her neck much in the same style as the fictional character she liked that inspired her hair alteration in the first place.
Once in the barracks, there were a number of activities she found going on amongst her troops. A poker game was on between two of her Sergeants, a Corporal, and two Privates. Staff Sergeant Elaine Watts, one of only three other women in the platoon, was writing at one of the common use tables; a number of other soldiers were doing the same or watching the news on a flatscreen television, save for two of the youngest privates, who were using a holotank table to play a computer game.
Feeling tired, Amy picked up her bag and slipped into her bed. Among the personal possessions she had brought along were replicator copies of her Chrono Trigger manga collection.
The term most people had for Amy and her fellow fans were "Triggies", a specific subgroup of Otaku and sci-fi/fantasy fans who followed the Chrono Trigger mythos. It had been a first generation video game from the late 20th Century, played on one of the first 16-bit gaming consoles built back when the console was in it's final years. It had been a fan hit for a while before fading in the 21st Century in pretty much every timeline. However, following the Surveyor Accident in 2087 AST that opened up the 1983AD Earth of Universe HM-1, there had been a resurgence of interest in late 20th Century pop culture in a few societies of Multiversal Humanity. For the usual generation life of a fad, there was a deluge of media on the popular shows, movies, and games of the era, coinciding yet influencing the release of their counterparts on the HM-1 Earth. Chrono Trigger had been one of the properties revived, starting with an award-winning holo-animation series produced by Jochiro Matsuhara in 2094 AST that created a franchise. Though it had finally lost steam with the rest of the late 20th Century media, it had created a sizable enough fanbase that sixty years later, "Triggies" were still common sights at fan conventions (and even held their own - Amy had been to a number).
A baritone voice interrupted Amy's reading; "Lieutenant, just how much did that cost anyway?" She turned her head and saw Private Eddie Lewis, the gunner for Tank 3. All she knew was that the chocolate-skinned ex-high school strong safety was a Georgia native, like her, though she didn't know yet which universe he was from (she was a native of SE-1). She looked at him quizzically and he pointed to his buzzcut head.
Nodding and using her fingers to grip a small lock of her purple hair, Amy replied, "Most of my recruitment bonus."
"Yeah, I heard Sarge Wilcox say you used to be enlisted."
"I was. And I was thiking of getting out when I was offered OCS. But hey, the Army gives free board, free food, and the pay's not that bad. Plus all the benefits."
Lewis laughed. "Yeah, good benefits. Don't know if I want bars, though. Couldn't get into any of the academies anyway. And I fucked around in school so much I couldn't get more than community college. Wasn't that good a safety. So hey, might as well join the fucking Army."
"Yeah." Amy nodded.
"So, you're into that Japanese stuff."
She nodded again.
"Heh. To each their own." Lewis laid back on his cot and remained silent. For her part, Amy continued to read until she was ready to catch some sleep.
15 December 2153 AST
00:45 GST
The planet of Mapakar was one of Cardassia's many settled worlds near what became the Alliance-Cardassian border. Attacked in the second wave of the Alliance's war-opening offensive, Mapakar's small population meant that only one division, the 52nd, had been assigned to garrison it. Now nearly three weeks after the initial landings, the 52nd Division was mostly engaged in removing die-hard Cardassian militia whenever they popped up. In this case, they emerged from the forests of Korvela and taken the small frontier town of the same name, attempting to impress local adults and to seize needed food and other supplies.
Seated in the commander's position in the turret of the M3-3A3 flamethrower tank "Trogdor", 1st Lieutenant Amy Byrd commanded one of the platoons of tanks in Bravo Company of the 29th Armored Battalion. Bravo Company had been specifically equipped with flamethrower tanks for fighting with infantry - that was being put to use now as they systematically demolished the Cardassian militia.
Clad entirely in standard Army tanker BDUs - including helmet and air-sealed jacket, pants, and boots - she was kept from feeling most of the heat from the tank's weapon as it shot a plume of white-hot flame a hundred yards down the street where a squad of Cardassian infantry were firing from a building. The flame spread as it gained distance and burned right into the mostly wooden structure. Screams came next as humanoid figures flailed about in the inferno, mercifully dying as Amy triggered Trogdor's 8mm Colt.
"That takes care of that position." She turned to the command tactical display in the turret. The other four tanks in her platoon were spread on other streets, moving toward enemy positions. Looking down into the bowels of the tank toward the driver, Amy said, "We're getting a request for support in square Foxtrot Golf Three Six. Get us there, best route."
"Yes Sir."
Looking to her side, Amy keyed in similar orders to the Sergeants commanding the other four tanks in her platoon. "Let's go burninate some more of the spoonheads."
Camp Kagasawa (29th Armored Battalion Bravo Company Bivouac), Mapakar
11:45 GST
Hours after the fight for Korvela, the unit had returned to camp to resume conventional garrison duties. Between the usual patrols, they typically stayed to themselves, since Mapakar didn't have much in the way of a public life and the locals were considered unfriendly.
Having participated in a debriefing with her commanders, Amy went to the metal-alloy prefab structure that acted as the shower for her company. After washing she dressed and returned to the prefab barracks her platoon was assigned.
Aside from one single glaring exception, Amy Byrd looked to be a normal Japanese-Caucasian woman of young age - she was twenty-seven - with a build sufficient for military service, if not definitively athletic or muscular. The exception was her hair. Far from the dark hair associated with Oriental Humans, Amy's hair was a rich purple color, the result of gene-engineering commonly available in the Alliance. She grew it to regulation length down to her neck much in the same style as the fictional character she liked that inspired her hair alteration in the first place.
Once in the barracks, there were a number of activities she found going on amongst her troops. A poker game was on between two of her Sergeants, a Corporal, and two Privates. Staff Sergeant Elaine Watts, one of only three other women in the platoon, was writing at one of the common use tables; a number of other soldiers were doing the same or watching the news on a flatscreen television, save for two of the youngest privates, who were using a holotank table to play a computer game.
Feeling tired, Amy picked up her bag and slipped into her bed. Among the personal possessions she had brought along were replicator copies of her Chrono Trigger manga collection.
The term most people had for Amy and her fellow fans were "Triggies", a specific subgroup of Otaku and sci-fi/fantasy fans who followed the Chrono Trigger mythos. It had been a first generation video game from the late 20th Century, played on one of the first 16-bit gaming consoles built back when the console was in it's final years. It had been a fan hit for a while before fading in the 21st Century in pretty much every timeline. However, following the Surveyor Accident in 2087 AST that opened up the 1983AD Earth of Universe HM-1, there had been a resurgence of interest in late 20th Century pop culture in a few societies of Multiversal Humanity. For the usual generation life of a fad, there was a deluge of media on the popular shows, movies, and games of the era, coinciding yet influencing the release of their counterparts on the HM-1 Earth. Chrono Trigger had been one of the properties revived, starting with an award-winning holo-animation series produced by Jochiro Matsuhara in 2094 AST that created a franchise. Though it had finally lost steam with the rest of the late 20th Century media, it had created a sizable enough fanbase that sixty years later, "Triggies" were still common sights at fan conventions (and even held their own - Amy had been to a number).
A baritone voice interrupted Amy's reading; "Lieutenant, just how much did that cost anyway?" She turned her head and saw Private Eddie Lewis, the gunner for Tank 3. All she knew was that the chocolate-skinned ex-high school strong safety was a Georgia native, like her, though she didn't know yet which universe he was from (she was a native of SE-1). She looked at him quizzically and he pointed to his buzzcut head.
Nodding and using her fingers to grip a small lock of her purple hair, Amy replied, "Most of my recruitment bonus."
"Yeah, I heard Sarge Wilcox say you used to be enlisted."
"I was. And I was thiking of getting out when I was offered OCS. But hey, the Army gives free board, free food, and the pay's not that bad. Plus all the benefits."
Lewis laughed. "Yeah, good benefits. Don't know if I want bars, though. Couldn't get into any of the academies anyway. And I fucked around in school so much I couldn't get more than community college. Wasn't that good a safety. So hey, might as well join the fucking Army."
"Yeah." Amy nodded.
"So, you're into that Japanese stuff."
She nodded again.
"Heh. To each their own." Lewis laid back on his cot and remained silent. For her part, Amy continued to read until she was ready to catch some sleep.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
Steve wrote:Seated in the commander's position in the turret of the M3-3A3 flamethrower tank "Trogdor"
Burninating the Cardies, burninating the countryside!
I'm in a fic! Despite my not-conducive-to-getting-into-fics screenname! Awesome!Sorry I missed your earlier announcement. I know you probably won't be reading this until you get back, but good luck.
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader