"Anatomy of a War" - Alt-Trekverse Fic

[Admiral Bravo]

Very nice. Best of luck, Steve.

[Steve]

Avalon City, New Avalon, Federated Commonwealth
Universe Designate MWB-32
12:07 GST


Avalon City was asleep, or as quiet as it got anyway, as the late night hours continued on. But while most of the city rested, there were still those working within the bowels of the palace itself.
Hanse had remained awake, leaving Melissa and his younger children to their sleep while he journeyed to one of the secured studies in the palace to participate in a real-time call from Field Marshal Bisla. Morgan Hasek-Davion and Alex Mallory were along as usual and standing beside Hanse as he responded to the salute Bisla gave him. A slight distortion moved through the holotank for a moment, but only for a moment - the picture was as clear as possible for communication through the unknown ether that seperated the universes.
For the next few minutes, Bisla explained their progress on establishing the supplies necessary for the planned offensive. A week or so more and they could safely commence operations - anything before that would bring a risk of overstretch. She outlined for him the basics of the operation and their intelligence sources on what the enemy could defend with, plus her expectations. When the briefing ended Bisla's image disappeared.
"So, how long do we wait? Morgan?"
"The Cardassians don't appear to know much about our position. They may very well be assuming our troops are still gathering or that we will be dispatching forces to participate in the operations on Bajor. The Alliance has used our position on Corwich to re-deploy half of their troops in that subsector to other fronts, giving the impression I think that our forces are there to guard their flank." Morgan watched Hanse walk to a desk and get a bottle of whiskey. "Waiting longer could still give away our intentions, but that would require a rather severe security leak."
"So we wait and build up supplies?"
"Yes, that would be advisable. At least wait until the 22nd on the AST calendar." Morgan refused the glass Hanse offered him. "No thank you Highness. And to continue, the Alliance's success on Bajor was greater than they had anticipated. Large numbers of Cardassian troops were caught out of their prepared bases and positions and have been neutralized. I've been told that only half of their planned Second Wave is actually going to Bajor now. The other half is being held back in reserve, reducing the Alliance's supply burden, and providing our offensive with potential reserves and flank guards."
"It's not our situation with ground troops that I'm concerned with. What is the state of Cardassian space defenses in that region?"
"Well, the Cardassians never had reason to heavily fortify their Keloan border, which is our target. Going by intel we can expect some minor orbital batteries, nothing more. On the matter of their naval defenses, what's left of their 1st Fleet is loitering between Dervak and Shervarak. The FCEF alone outnumbers it two to one in combat-capable ships. Finally, to top it all, the Alliance's interdiction campaign has reduced the flow of supplies to the region, so what we do face there will suffer from a lack of support. To put it simply, Hanse, the Alliance has done such a good job chopping through their front door that the back door is completely unguarded and unlocked."
"Very good." Hanse nodded. "Any systems there worth our trouble?"
"A number have mineral resources of one kind or another. One subject race, the Kerell.. the Korroleia I think. Humanoid. We could see about removing Cardassian puppets controlling their nation-states and allowing others to come into power, especially if we can guarantee they would be friendly to the Commonwealth's interests post-war. The position isn't that bad, after all, and would place us near the major trade lines."
"I'll keep that all in mind when the war ends. For now, get some sleep, Morgan. There's nothing more we can do from here."
Nodding politely, Morgan retired from the room. For several moments nothing was said until Alex left as well. He returned a few minutes later with another man. Hanse looked up and nodded at Curaitis as he approached. "Mister Curaitis."
"Good morning, Highness."
Hanse took his second shot of whiskey. "What went wrong?"
"Nothing on our side, Highness. Our man ensured that the Cardassians would be given word that Opel Nevis was on Rasmussen."
"Then why did the Cardassians destroy every other ship in that convoy?" Hanse looked up at Curaitis. "It's one thing to cause the deaths of Rasmussen's crew. They were military men, they knew from the beginning of their service that they might die. But instead we sent fifteen hundred innocent people to their deaths. That's not what I wanted."
"Understood, Highness. If I may speculate?"
"Do so."
"Cardassian paranoia, Highness. They probably suspected the intelligence was either wrong or, perhaps, a leak to have them attack the wrong target. Their reaction was to attack every ship that had a Bajoran on board. That is why Galax Eagle was only damaged - it was not subjected to direct attack because there were no Bajoran life signs aboard."
Hanse sat silently for a minute. "Very well. You may go."
Curaitis nodded and left. Alex turned to Hanse. "I told you that it was a mistake. The Cardassians have a respected intelligence service. If they'd known we were trying to set up an incident instead of assuming we were trying to smuggle around Opel..."
"They didn't." Hanse poured another shot - his final for the evening, he decided. "After all, why would a Human nation struggling to catch up technologically to the other powers of the Multiverse pick a fight with a foreign power from another universe, a universe we don't even have holdings in?" He chuckled. "We should have anticipated that. Who knows of Curaitis' mission?"
"Only the three of us. The man who planted the story for us died on his ship during the attack."
"Let's make sure it stays that way. Nobody else can find out. Not even Morgan and Melissa."
"Very well, Highness."
A few more moments passed. Hanse looked at the shot and stopped himself from downing it. "Alex, what time is it in Katyusha?"
"Evening I believe."
"Perhaps I should call Victor then. See how he is doing. I've been so busy lately..." Hanse sighed.
Before he could continue or do so, Alex said, "Victor won't be home."
"Oh?"
"The report from the detail I have protecting him said he would be going out this evening. With a young lady, I'll add."
A small smile crept onto Hanse's face. "Oh?"
"Yes. One of Admiral Dale's junior staff officers he met while working as liaison to the Admiral's Military Governor office.. She's eligible, I'll add. She is Victoria III's granddaughter."
After chuckling again, Hanse said, "Unfortunately, I don't think a political marriage will do much to solidify our ties to the Alliance. At least I can see why Victor hasn't been sending daily messages to Morgan asking for a transfer to the front. Though why is the girl working a staff job when there's a war on, if I might say so?"
"Officially we don't know, and it's not something we'd care to speculate on. Unofficially, her father, now the Prince of Wales, was one of Dale's senior subordinates during the Agresskan War. They've been close friends since. Anything else you wish to know, Highness?"
"Oh, no. Nothing at all. I'll call Victor later then." Hanse picked up the shotglass and took the entire shot at once. As it burned it's way down his throat, he said, "Well, now it is time for bed. I have work toomorrow, as usual. Have a pleasant night, Alex...."

[Trogdor]

It's good to see you back, Steve. How are you doing? Did you get the problems you mentioned cleared up?

[Steve]

It's good to see you back, Steve. How are you doing? Did you get the problems you mentioned cleared up?

No. But we'll have cable until we actually move out of this place.

[Edward Yee]

Is it just me... or did the ADN intentionally compromise one of their own ships, condemning every man and woman aboard to unwitting death?

[CJvR]

Is it just me... or did the ADN intentionally compromise one of their own ships, condemning every man and woman aboard to unwitting death?

The Cardies overreacted slightly but the FedComs spooks were manufacturing an incident to justify the coming war.

[Steve]

Is it just me... or did the ADN intentionally compromise one of their own ships, condemning every man and woman aboard to unwitting death?

The ADN did not. The Federated Commonwealth did.

[Steve]

Washington D.C., Earth, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
18:02 GST


The Conference Room in the White House was once again occupied for members of the Alliance security establishment to give Mamatmas his daily briefing on the war. The attendees were Takahara, Bronson, and Hollingwood - Rathbone was overseeing the final creation of a Defense Ministry Press Release and could not attend.
The meeting was now on the fruits of intelligence-gathering. "We have two key points of interest. The first: intelligence sources within Cardassia have provided us with a list of camps and facilities in Cardassia that hold foreign nationals. The Cardassians have been using these prisoners to set up fake towns to train their insurgency troops in, much like Kimmist North korea in the 20th and 21st Centuries of most timelines. As well as the list, we have a copy of an order signed by Legate Kelataza to one Gul Madred, ordering the 'liquidation' of camps if our forces enter the solar system." Bronson set his PDA down. "We've forwarded information to the military commanders. They're going to see about using special forces to liberate as many as these facilities as possible in advance of continued offensive action."
"Good. Go on."
"The second note of interest comes from sources within the Federation. Federation commercial traffic to Cardassia has picked up in the past few days. This includes three Federation starships identified as the Penelope, Potemkin, and Pike."
Takahara shrugged. "An increase of commercial traffic isn't surprising. The Cardassians have probably hired the services of neutral races to run non-essential cargoes so that their own transport resources can go to war material."
"Perhaps, but a source on Starbase 212 noticed that a lot of material marked for delivery to Cardassia bore Starfleet markings for electronics and other sensor equipment. Going by what we've confirmed to be in those transports and a few minor signal intercepts on non-encrypted channels, we think the Federation is transferring some high quality sensor equipment to Cardassia. If I had to make a guess given the information on hand, I'd think it was gravitic sensor technology."
"Gravitic sensors?"
"Yes. The Federation uses them to monitor their side of the Neutral Zone with the Romulan Empire. They're decently sensitive, enough that cloaked ships are detectable."
Mamatmas nodded silently. "Can you confirm this?"
"I trust our sources."
"That wasn't what I asked." The President sighed. "Which means that you can't prove it for certain."
"We could if you authorize the navy to intercept the Federation ships and inspect them."
Takahara and Mamatmas stared at Bronson for a moment. "Director Bronson, I shouldn't have to remind you that the Federation has rights as a neutral power," said Mamatmas. "We need proof that they're transporting contraband to the Cardassians. Real proof. If you don't have it, there's nothing we can do."
"Mister President, with all due respect, the 'neutrality' of the Federation is a joke. The Federation Press is effectively an arm of the Cardassian propaganda machine. The Federation government is on the verge of imposing sanctions on the Alliance while it has been granting Cardassia economic aid in the guise of 'humanitarian support'. They have barred our ships from returning to Federation space to protect our commerce while they allow the Cardassians to maintain their patrols into the Federation to seize 'terrorists'. It's quite clear that they were the ones to claim Gytep was a terrorist camp in the first place." Bronson paused for a moment. "Furthermore, if Cardassia is allowed to emplace a gravitic sensor net, it will hamper any future use of our bombers. We will lose the element of surprise in all future attacks by Bomber Command, including strategic reprisals. If they have that net, the Cardassians may even overestimate it's effectiveness and decide they're no longer at risk of being damaged by a strategic reprisal. They might launch their own attacks on Bajoran and Alliance population centers to try and force us to accept a peace agreement."
"What you are asking me to do, Director, is to violate the neutral rights of the Federation and potentially draw them into the war at a time when we've exhausted most of our pre-war on-site stocks and with most of our fleet directed toward keeping the Cardassians off-balance. And I have no illusions that most of the Alpha Quadrant would see them as the wronged party, not us."
"Mister President, the Federation is unpopular in many of it's frontier regions, especially those facing Cardassia. Those regions could split with the Federation and side with us. We could even begin the Nitse Reaction now."
"At a time when we're unprepared for it? And how do you know we won't turn every other region in the Federation against us and cause them to re-solidify their relationship with the central government?"
"Mister President, I must formally advise against Director Bronson's recommendations," Takahara said, stepping in. "If the Federation is drawn into this war, it would escalate tremendously, and not just in the New Liberty region. There are other powers that could seek to take advantage of the Federation's weakness if they are forced to pull their fleets out of other sectors and toward Cardassian space. The Klingon Civil War has weakened that Empire and left it vulnerable to outside attack if the Federation is unable to provide a guarantee against that contingency. And it's simply not materially possible for us to overrun the Cardassian Empire and the Federation before other powers jump in and the entire Quadrant slips into chaos, assuming we could fight off a determined attack by Starfleet and the remnants of the Cardassian fleet with our current supply situation and fleet status. And I don't need to tell you what this series of outcomes would do to our positions in other universes."
Mamatmas looked to Bronson. "Doctor Takahara's analysis more than convinces me. I'm not going to interdict those Federation ships unless you can provide me with clear, solid evidence they are carrying war material."
Bronson nodded stiffly, showing he'd never expected to convince them anyway. "I understand, Mister President. However, if you're not going to authorize that, at least allow us to launch another strategic attack before the Federation could go those systems in place for the Cardassian military. Bombers have already been forward-deployed to a number of the occupied systems. We could hit enough targets that....."
"I have already authorized another bombing offensive to begin by next week using conventional weapons," Mamatmas said. "I will not authorize the further use of strategic weapons unless the Cardassians force me to as an act of retaliation."
Bronson nodded and leaned back in his seat. Hollingwood gave him a look but remained silent. Mamatmas ignored the Chief Admiral and kept looking at Bronson. "Is there anything else of note, Director?"
"Nothing, Mister President."
"Fine. You keep looking for the smoking gun with these shipments by the Federation. In the meantime, there are other matters to discuss...."


After the meeting, Hollingwood and Bronson left the White House at about the same time. They got in the same limo sent to return them to the Pentagon for a meeting with the other Service Chiefs. As the vehicle rolled through the Washington streets, passing the Old Mall with the Lincoln Memorial to the left, Bronson finally spoke up. "You didn't mention Mjollner."
"If I had, he would have refused to send them, and I would have been bound by the order."
"Does it matter? He has sole launch authority."
"True, but it won't hurt to give him an immediate option should the bomber threat be nullified."
Bronson nodded at that. "Mamatmas is a good man, but he's still a politician. We should all remember that."
"Of course, old bean."
"But that's not all." Bronson smirked a little. "If those gravitic sensors remove Bomber Comomand's threat to Cardassia, Mjollner is an excellent alternative by the Stellar Navy. I imagine that post-war you will be pursuing a larger budget for the development of new strategic ships. encouraging the Council to do so at the expense of Bomber Command and the Aerospace Force as a whole."
Hollingwood didn't reply at first. "Well, Director, I think the Aerospace Force needs to wake up and realize it's time is over. Technology to detect stealthed craft with ECS has advanced and their interstellar strategic bombers are simply too big. Their interstellar capability is redundant anyway. The Stellar Navy can control space easily enough. They should stick to what they do best - protecting planetary space. Of course, I don't want them to find that out the hard way, but I imagine they will."
"How soon will Mjollner get the orders?"
"Within the next few hours. They'll run another series of readiness tests and head out shortly afterward. The orders are assigning them to scout enemy shipping lanes. This will place them in convenient locations to launch if it becomes necessary."
Bronson nodded and turned his head to look out the window as Old Washington whizzed by.

[Steve]

Finch Army Base, Corworth 3, ADN Colonial Zone
16 December 2153 AST
02:15 GST


In one wing of Finch Base's administrative building the briefing was going off as scheduled. The assembled battalion-level commanders of the Alliance and Commonwealth troops, as well as the naval commanders, more senior commanders, and other important officers, observed as the outlines of Operation: Percival were made by Hauptmann Allard-Liao and Major Lawson. Questions originally concentrated on various matters of logistics and the known locations of crack enemy units and the enemy's naval contingents. Bisla was pleased to see both planners field the questions in stride; she wanted this operation to go off without a hitch.
It was near the end of the briefing that the Alliance intelligence liaison officer, Colonel Deakins, stepped up. "Recently we have come into possession to information regarding the locations of Cardassian camps holding prisoners of various origins, including Bajoran and Federation. The intelligence source also indicated that the Cardassians are planning to liquidate these camps when our forces risk them being taken. As a result, the Universal Command Staff has authorized a series of attacks by special forces or selected units to take these camps and hold them until the occupants can be extracted. I have with me a list of the known facilities in the operational region for this command and I will be sharing them now. Where possible, special forces teams will be used for quick grabs and evacs. However, for some targets in our area, the population of prisoners is high enough that we will likely need large vessels to move them out, so we will be using line units to land ahead of schedule for the purpose of securing the facilities. It will be a risk, so we are asking for volunteers."
One by one various officers from both services offered their battalions on the missions. Finally there only remained one system on the list, though Deakins had not mentioned it. The first person to do so came from Bisla's table.
"What about Dervak?"
All eyes turned toward the red-haired woman who had asked. Deakins replied, "Dervak was judged too deep into Cardassian territory for a safe first strike, Colonel. The remnants of the Cardassian 1st Fleet seem to be patrolling around it and we do not have the forces to launch an attack on Dervak in the initial wave of the operation."
"Yet there are about three thousand people in the facility there who will be killed. The Black Widows volunteer to secure it," Natasha Kerensky replied.
Bisla turned and looked at her. "Colonel, you'd be stuck on the planet for days, perhaps weeks, with minimal supply. There's no guarantee our forces will even get to Dervak."
"You let us worry about holding out. And with three thousand people there, well, there's a sizable number of people who should be willing to fight for a chance to get home."
"We can't send enough ships to arm three thousand people, not without giving away the operation."
"Actually, it depends on the local sensor networks," Deakins said. "The local powers rely heavily on subspace sensors. And your non-upgraded ships don't use subspace at all. They'd be effectively invisible on long-range sensors. If you were to use one of your JumpShips to jump first into an unoccupied system without a Cardassian sensor post, and then into Dervak, you could catch them by surprise if Dervak's own orbital facility were taken out and their planetary sensors blinded."
The Black Widow looked at Deakins. "Can that be arranged?"
"Alliance Intelligence has... some resources on Dervak. We can look into it."
"Well then, it looks like that is settled." Natasha looked to Bisla. After a moment, the other woman nodded slowly in agreement. Deakins immediately resumed his intel briefing.

[Steve]

11:09 GST


Regular buses allowed personnel stationed in Finch Base and the nearby temporary bivouacs of the AFFC to travel into the nearby city of Farnsworth for their off-duty leisure. All personnel who did so had to remain in constant contact with the Base, of course, should an immediate mobilization be necessary (Though due to the sheer unlikelihood of a Cardassian attack this was not being vigorously enforced). Many took advantage of this system to enjoy their off-duty time in the city, mostly spending their time in the bars, pubs, and other restaurants in the vicinity of the Farnsworth Spaceport.
The Blind Boar Pub was just down the street from the Spaceport, built into a larger building with an old-style English shop and upper floor offices and apartments. It was never too busy though neither was it empty very often - a very good thing for the proprieter, naturally.
At a table a short distance from the bar, Lieutenant Phelan Kell of the Wolf Dragoons' Black Widow Company sat and quietly watched the television screen built into one of the walls. The station was on TNI (Turner News Interstellar) with a scene from Bajor, an all-too-familiar sight of a partially ruined urban setting with the sounds of combat in the background. A large, tan-skinned man was on the screen with the caption "Dalkyra" below him. "....though a few road junctions in this city have been successfully taken, much of the city is still being held by Cardassian troops. The 555th Division's attack is literally proceeding block by block with firefights breaking out everywhere. Sometimes troops will secure a road junction and within minutes come back under fire from a counterattack by the Cardassians. Not a single area of the city can be considered secure. We are in even now in some potential danger, which is why we're crouched so low to the ground."
"What kind of support is the attack getting, Wes? Is there any air support, orbital support?"
"There is some, yes, but in this kind of urban setting, fire support can be very ineffective. Bombs and rockets and shells will destroy a building and the Cardassians will just move into the rubble. Every officer I've spoken to has told me the same thing. The only way to defeat the Cardassian troops occupying Dalkyra is to move throughout the city and defeat them one at a time with infantry attacks. Casualties among Alliance troops are already higher here than in any other part of Bajor and they are expected to get worse. One of the commanders here spoke to me anonymously and said it could take weeks to secure the city. There has been some discussion that they should focus on getting the Bajoran inhabitants stuck in the city out so that heavy bombardment could be used to annihilate the enemy troops, but right...."
Suddenly there was a large explosion that sent the reporter and his cameraman to the ground. There was frantic shouting and yelling accompanied by the distinct whine of Cardassian energy rifles coupled with the constant rythym of assault rifle fire.
Phelan's attention left the screen when Ranna returned from what was very clearly a trip to the restroom. She silently returned to her seat and began eating. There was nothing much to say between them that wouldn't be said in private later. They had come a long way from when they had first met on the Dire Wolf in what seemed to be a previous existance at times. At the time she had been a proud warrior of her Wolf Clan, Phelan a young MechWarrior of his father's Kell Hounds and a prisoner of the Clan. He had watched as the Wolves and their fellow Clans had ripped right into the Inner Sphere, crushing all resistance with superior weaponry and equipment, right until the intervention of the Human nations from the other universes turned the tables. Dire Wolf had been taken by a boarding action shortly after the annihilation of the Ghost Bear invasion fleet attacking Rasalhague; Ranna spent the rest of the war in a POW camp even after Phelan got to go home. When Strana Mechty fell, she was in the camp hospital, recovering from near-fatal wounds taken during a failed POW uprising that had claimed many lives, including that of her sibkin and the leader of the failed revolt, Vlad - also, coincidentally, the Wolf warrior who had captured Phelan on The Rock.
Today they were both in the Dragoons through the influence of Natasha, Ranna's maternal grandmother. They had become lovers shortly after, Phelan having the advantage of being a prior acquaitance and being "open". More than any, Phelan knew about the anger and bitterness in Ranna's heart. It was one common among many survivors of the Clan warrior caste. So many of their sibkin and comrades had died in the hopeless defense of their very way of life; they had lived to see it ended, making them feel disgraced and homeless.
As they finished their meals there was loud laughter coming from the doors. An... interesting sweaty aroma wafted into the pub and prompted almost all of the patrons to look toward the entrange. A quartet of large dark-skinned humanoids walked in weating metallic armor of some kind over black suits. Phelan took a moment to recognize them, thinking back to the information packet the Dragoons had issued to personnel coming to ST-3 to fight. They were "Klingons", an alien race with ar reported militaristic culture full of warrior mysticism and glorification of their warrior code. Phelan had heard they were currently wrapped up in a civil war over who should lead their ruling council, so he was a bit surprised to see Klingons in what was clearly uniform.
Coming up to the bar, one of them bellowed, "Bloodwine!" The stocky wolf-haired Englishman minding the bar nodded and, with great effort, lifted a keg up onto the bar. He used the nozzle on it to fill a glass for each of the aliens and they greedily gulped it down. Phelan and Ranna turned away and finished their meals quietly. As they were paying for the check, however, there was a roar from the bar. One of the younger Klingons grabbed the barkeep by his collar. "What do you mean you are out of bloodwine?!"
"You bloody well drank the entire keg!" The barkeep struggled to try and free himself. "Bloodwine's not exactly common in this area of space, y'know!"
Noticing the savage snarl on the Klingon's face, Phelan stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder, prompting the Klingon to shove him off and turn. Phelan kept his footing and returned the glare he was receiving. "Let the man go. Plenty of other booze here to drink."
"You are another of the outsider Humans." The Klingon sized Phelan up and sneered. "They say Humans from the other universes are not as soft as those from our own, that there are warriors amongst you that deserve the name, but I see you also wear those pathetic rags of cloth instead of the garb of a true warrior."
"And your body armor is so much better? Like that will protect you from a modern weapon."
"Humans, pah. Always afraid of death. Always willing to surrender to your enemies rather than die. True warriors choose to die, and to die gloriously!"
"And what do you know of that?!"
Ranna stepped between Phelan and the Klingon. Phelan was about to stop her before her hand went to his chest, prompting him to stop. Fury flashed in her eyes while she confronted the taller Klingon. "What do you know of death and glory?! You speak of being a warrior but all you do is talk. From birth I was trained and tested to be a warrior in the service of my Clan, and with all my heart I yearned to pass the Trials and become a warrior, and then to win great victories so that my genetic material would be used to breed our next generation of warriors. But I was denied that! I was not even allowed to die for my Clan! I was taken and held captive while my sibkin and trothkin died trying to save our Clan from the Alliance. I was even robbed of the honor of dying with my fellow captives when we tried to fight our jailers! I woke up in a hospital bed to find out my Clan had been destroyed, our greatest monuments laid to waste and the genetic material of our greatest warriors burned to ash!"
"So your people were defeated." The Klingon bellowed laughter. "Some warriors you were!"
Before Phelan could react, Ranna smashed her fist against the Klingon's jaw. He barely had time to step up to keep the Klingon's buddies from joining in before Ranna's opponent pulled out a mean-looking knife. He swung it at her and Ranna dodged to one side. She grabbed the hand with the kinfe at the wrist and smashed in the Klingon's knee with a strong kick, using his sudden loss of balance to twist his arm and knock it against the bar, causing him to drop the knife. She elbowed him in the nose, and while he tried to recover she scooped up the knife. The half-drunken Klingon tried to react, but was too late to prevent her left fist from enclosing around some of his hair, using her grip to smash his head down against the bar. She stuck the knife in his face. "You drunken surat! If your people had been put in our place you too would have been crushed! We were hopelessly outmatched by an enemy we could never have imagined possible, an enemy with technology far beyond our own! We had no hope of victory. And yet, we fought. On every world in the Pentagon and across the Kerensky Cluster, Clan warriors chose to die in battle rather than submit. I lost sibkin - warriors I had grown up with - and comrades, all killed trying to defend our Clan's legacies. My grandmother's sibkin was our Clan's last Khan, the ilKhan elected by the others to lead the defense of our capital. Her name was Cyrilla Ward, and she died in her BattleMech fighting to protect the Hall of Khans. My grandmother was robbed of the chance to die with her, as she had sworn to do when they were young, and it haunts her even today. I am haunted too, because I am a Clan warrior without a Clan. I have lost everything I believed in. All I have left are my skills, my new comrades..." - Ranna looked briefly to Phelan, who was watching, - "and the hope that I will get the chance to fight in a battle again." She drew closer to the Klingon's face, enough to smell his stinking breath. "I am Ranna, a warrior of the House of Kerensky, and if you speak ill of my House and my name one more time, I will have you in a Circle of Equals so that I can kill you. Am. I. Clear?"
The Klingon snarled and grunted. Ranna let him go, glared at the others and returned to Phelan's side. "Let us return to Finch, Phelan."
He nodded, still a bit impressed and perhaps a little relieved. Ranna had finally been given a chance to blow some steam, and hopefully this group of Klingons wouldn't be bothering any more Dragoons thanks to it. They reached the door and Phelan went to open it when the eldest Klingon in the group, with graying dark hair, asked them to wait. They turned back and the Klingon, after a moment, smiled a toothy smile - showing those predatory sharp teeth - and began speaking. "I am Krethor, son of Gre'thel. On behalf of my crew, I apologize for the insult to your honor, Ranna, and to the honor of your House. Dragor is young and foolish, but I am not, and in your eyes I can see the fire of a warrior's soul. I do not envy your enemies when you are returned to the battlefield." The older Klingon nodded. "Die well, Ranna. You will see your kin again when you get to the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor."
After a moment, Ranna gave him a small smile. "Die well, Krethor." She looked to Phelan and they both walked out.

[Steve]

For a bit of trivia.....

By the DS9 series, GPL - Gold-Pressed Latinum - was the currency of choice in the Trek universe. Naturally, people from the ADN have good old-fashioned paper money. I've already stated, in various AIM chats and in TWTW (IIRC), that the ADN Dollar is fixed to latinum (a latinum standard, much like how various currencies in the world were at one time fixed on the price of gold and/or silver) as a means of stabilizing it (it's primarily intended to be a trade currency, somewhat like what the US Dollar became in Western Europe post-WWII).

In the DS9 ep "Body Parts", there is a conversion rate mentioned for the three types of GPL - slips, strips, and bars. 500 bars = 10,000 strips = 1,000,000 slips, thus 1 bar = 20 strips = 2,000 slips.

I will be generally assuming that GPL is exchangable to the ADN dollar at a 2 slip:$1 exchange rate, with likely market fluctuations based on the value of gold and latinum. That means a slip is fifty ADN cents, a strip is $50 ADN, and a bar is $1,000 ADN (This means that in the aforementioned DS9 ep, Brunt bought Quark's remains for half a million dollars, a sum that would explain the stunned reaction of both Rom and Quark when the bid was made).

And that was your moment of worthless trivia.

[Companion Cube]

Reading this is always a pleasure.

[Steve]

Capital City, Cardassia, Cardassian Union
22:06 GST


The office of Loralo Puvek, a ranking member of the Detepa Council, was spartan yet well-kept to the eyes of a young Cardassian named Peratin. Peratin saw the older Cardassian at his desk. Other seats in the room were taken up by four more Cardassians he did not immediately recognize. To have such a large meeting was potentially dangerous - with the war on, the Obsidian Order was being even more paranoid than usual.
"Welcome, young man. Everyone, this is the agent for another member of our Loyal Oppostion," Puvek said to everyone. "No names will be used, of course." He was answered by nods while Peratin sat down. "Cardassia is in a crisis now. I have been told that the Alliance is demanding that Legate Kelataza and a number of our other senior leaders be turned over for war crimes trials. They will continue the war until we agree to this."
"Kelataza will never give in now," one of the others said with utter contempt in his voice. "He'll try to save his own skin."
"Which is why we must act, now. The Central Command has failed the Cardassian people. Our time has come to take the power that is rightfully our's."
Peratin frowned and shook his head. "My sponser will be no party to this."
That made Puvek glare at the young Cardassian. "What do you mean by that?"
"My sponser is no fool. If we were to take power and give in to the enemy, we would be hated by the people. Far from being able to prove ourselves better than the military, we would be handing them the knife with which to stab us in the back." Peratin stood. "We will not be party to this." He turned and stomped out.
The others looked to Puvek, who was barely frowning. "He is unimportant," Puvek said dismissively after waiting for a few moments. "With our contacts we can make a strong bid for power. All we need is for the Home Fleet to get swept up in the fighting. And that should not be too long from now."



17 December 2153 AST
03:13 GST


After a brisk walk through the heart of Cardassia's capital, 2nd Rank Gul Skrain Dukat - former Prefect of Bajor and now commander of the Home Fleet - entered the office of his superior, Gul Keve. As he did so, another man left, one Dukat didn't recognize but who was not in a military uniform. "Sir, you asked to see me?"
"Ah, Dukat. Sit down." Keve waited for Dukat to sit down before doing so himself. "I hear you sent your wife and children into the countryside. You have that little faith in victory?"
"I was merely taking... precautions, Gul Keve," Dukat replied carefully. It would be unwise to admit an expectation of defeat.
"Oh, you needn't be careful around me, Dukat." Keve picked up a small device and keyed it. "There. If they are listening, the Order can't here what I'm about to say."
"You're awfully sure of yourself."
"I have to be. Cardassia is in the greatest crisis it will ever face. Practically, we have no choice but to seek peace, even if it means giving Bajor up, ceding territory, and giving up Kelataza and the others for the Alliance to put on trial."
"But nobody would dare," Dukat said. "It would be coddling the people who just murdered over two million Cardassian citizens. The Cardassian people will never stand for it. Whoever signs any kind of agreement like that will be committing suicide, political and otherwise."
"Of course. Which is why we need a patsy." Keve smiled grimly. "I've been told that Puvek has been having ideas again."
Dukat rolled his eyes. "Not him."
"Yes, him. He thinks that with the Home Fleet off on the front, those dissident forces loyal to him can seize control of the capital."
"The military would never stand for it. The Home Guard would never support him."
"It will if I order them to."
There was a look of surprise on Dukat's face. "Gul Keve, you cannot tell me you would allow the Central Command to have it's power challenged by that fool Puvek!"
"Right now, Gul Dukat, we need to get out of the war. I would allow that fool power if he takes the initiative to end it. And then he will be the one that the people blame." Keve saw that Dukat was unconvinced. "Tell me, Dukat, how much alien history do you know?"
"Very little, I must admit. I've never had a reason to study the other races. Who would?"
"The late, lamented Gul Torcet once advised me to read up oon the histories of our enemies for insights into how they think. So I have studied some Human history, and in it, I have found our salvation." Keve sat back into his chair and folded his hands. About, oh, four and a half centuries ago, the Humans of our universe fought their first industrial war. They referred to it as the First World War, or simply the Great War. Most of their great nations became involved on the side of one of two alliances. The war lasted for years. Millions died in bloody, indecisive warfare. Entire nations collapsed into anarchy as the war continued unabated." He noticed the sneer on Dukat's face. "Yes, it might be a bit hard to imagine the Humans of the Federation we know today being capable of such bloodshed, but they once were, as the Alliance has proven to us already. Anyway, as the war's end came, the nation of Germany, one of their great nations and the leader of one of warring alliances, realized it could not win even though their troops were still fighting on enemy soil. But Germany's leaders knew how unpopular they would be if they signed an armistice with their enemies, so one by one they stepped down until their political foes came into power and were forced to. As a result, after the war, it was these forces that were blamed for Germany's defeat. Germany's people believed they had not actually been defeated by the enemy, but betrayed by an insidious group of traitors that took over the government. They called this the Dolchstoß, their word for being stabbed in the back."
"I see...." Dukat grinned. "Clever, Gul. You will allow Puvek to make peace, and then allow him to take the blame for it, paving the way for our essential return to power."
"Yes, exactly. And when the time comes, Dukat, I will need your help."
Dukat nodded. And with his help, of course, would come a higher position in the future. "I am at your service, Gul Keve."
"Good. Now all we have to do is wait until Puvek is ready, and find a way to convince Kelataza to commit the Home Fleet when the time comes."
"I'll have my staff get working on a plan right away."
"Good. Then you are dismissed." Keve watched Dukat leave and smiled. This way, Cardassia would be spared more destruction... and the Central Command would deliver a blow to their surviving political foes.

[Steve]

Jenkinsville, Alpha Korvus 4, United Federation of Planets
19 December 2153 AST
12:05 GST


The small town of Jenkinsville was a good distance from Pelley, the capital of Alpha Korvus 4. The Alpha Korvus system was very close to Nova Savona, about half the distance away from the Alliance border. Alpha Korvus 4 was mostly a farming planet, save for a few minor on-world industries that barely supported the population. The planet was still recovering from the war with Cardassia, during which the Cardassians had attacked four times (including a one month occupation that had left Pelley devastated and had killed thousands out of a population of not quite half a million). A monument had been recently erected in Pelley to honor the Starfleet and militia forces that had liberated the planet after that brief occupation - in defiance of the Federation government at that - and the population still bore many scars from that horrible time.
In one of the apartments in the center of Jenkinsville, Howard Crawford and his family lived. Howard was a big man, possesssing rich dark skin and capable of looking as if he had just stepped out of a late 19th Century photograph of a Zulu warrior. He was the Deputy Chief of Police for Jenkinsville, the second-in-command of a small force of about forty or so officers of the peace. He lived with his wife Samantha, a woman of normal attractiveness, her brother Gerald, and their two children, both born after the Cardassian War.
The entire family, save for Gerald, was seated around the dinner table with the wall monitor showing the news channels. One of the advantages of their apartment complex was that the owner had recently invested in a subspace receiver that allowed every home to pick up subspace broadcasts coming from the Alliance, offering a much larger variety of programming than the handful of government-operated channels. Currently, however, they were watching the Federation News Service as it reported on the fighting on Bajor. There were no reporters on the screen, as the anchorman instead narrated to footage from the ground battles.
"...is not as clean as phasers. They leave horrible bleeding wounds and can even tear chunks of bodily flesh away from the body. Those shot with these weapons to not fall unconscious, but are either killed or are forced to twist about on the ground in pain. Their cries for help go ignored, and at times, Cardassian soldiers have been crushed under the heavy armored vehicles being used by the Allinace." As if to punctuate the point, after a montage of shots showing various Cardassians with gunshot wounds, a short video showed a fallen Cardassian being crushed under a tank tread head-first. The footage turned to video of Bajoran towns reduced to burning rubble. "This kind of warfare has not been seen in the Alpha Quadrant for centuries. It is a brutal application of sheer firepower, without any consideration for property or life. And it is being waged on every world that Alliance troops have landed upon. Against this vicious kind of war, even the Cardassians' brave veteran troops cannot hold out. This is why...."
"Change it," Howard rumbled angrily, and Samantha did so. She flipped on the subspace receiver to pick up broadcasts coming from the Alliance. After some debate, they put it to Channel 44. It showed the end of a commercial for automobiles and then opened with a news studio. "Welcome back to CBS Interstellar News, this is Ryan Gilliam in our New York studio," the dark-skinned man on the screen said. "Our special coverage on the war in the Alpha Quadrant continues." After a pause, during which Gilliam shuffled papers in front of him, he began speaking again. "Although the fighting has not yet ended on Bajor, relief efforts are already underway. Earlier today, President John Sheridan held a short press conference from the ISA facilities in Tuzanor to announce plans for Bajoran aid."
The video switched to show the recording from Minbar. Sheridan took up most of the screen, the ISA flag set behind him and it's insignia etched into the crystal podium he was standing behind. "The Council of the InterStellar Alliance has already approved the first shipments of food and medicine to be sent to Bajor and it's adjacent worlds. There have already been many volunteers from various races to help begin recovery efforts and we will be utilizing them as well.”
“Mister President, is there any concern about being caught up in the conflict? If, say, Cardassian ships attack ISA craft?”
“We’re not too worried given the apparent withdrawal of Cardassian ships from the region, but to be on the safe side, I have been in contact with several member races for the purpose of assembling escorts for any ships sending in relief supplies. Next question?”
“Mister President, there have been reports that you’ve had several high-level meetings with Ambassador Halas-Ryan from the Free Worlds League. Are you preparing to sign any kind of joint statement with Captain-General Marik regarding the war?”
“No. Currently all talks between Tuzanor and Atreus City have been about coordinating relief supplies to affected worlds. We are both working with other neutral governments and the Alliance Government in Washington to ensure the flow of supplies to worlds in the war zone and the protection of ships carrying them, that is all.”
“Have you any comment at all on Captain-General Marik’s statement about assembling a, and I quote, ‘coalition of neutral governments for the purpose of promoting a ceasefire and an end to the war in the Alpha Quadrant’?”
“I have no specific comment on that at this time.”
“Mister President, if there is any kind of joint statement signed by you and Captain-General Marik, will it include a restatement of the various condemnations for actions on both sides even though you have personally not followed the Captain-General in condemning the Alliance’s use of nuclear weapons?”
“Given that there has not been any discussions on me signing any kind of statement in that fashion, I see no reason to answer that. Next question?”
“Sir, are you afraid of causing damage to your relations with the Alliance of Democratic Nations should Captain-General Marik push for the neutrals to denounce the Alliance’s nuclear attacks?”
Sheridan slammed a hand down on the podium, not very loudly but enough to show some growing frustration. Though Howard and other viewers could not know it, most of these questions were coming from reporters from the Inner Sphere. “Since I’m not involved in any such discussions, I’m not going to answer that. There’s... there’s no reason for these kinds of questions. Please, another question, and let’s try to change to a topic that is actually important....”
Howard and his family continued to eat and watch, generally interested in the politics in the other universes. After a few more segments, it was time for a commercial break. Gilliam looked at his camera - and thus at the viewers like the Crawford family - solemnly. “Before we go to commercial, we ask our viewers to pay tribute to another fallen hero.” The screen shifted to show a young tan-skinned man in Army fatigues. “Corporal Alex Berglund of Loyola, New Iowa. The twenty-one year-old son of a part time school teacher and a computer engineer, Alex enlisted in the Alliance Army two years ago to prepare for college. He was assigned to the 1,045th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, 777th Division. After landing on Bajor in the first wave, Corporal Berglund was killed in a skirmish with Cardassian forces in the city of Yemenas. And that was this hour’s Tribute to a Hero. When we return...”
At the Crawford table, some noticed that there were a few tears in Howard’s eyes. And why wouldn’t there be? He remembered young men and women just like that Corporal Berglund who, right here on his very homeworld, died so that their loved ones could be free. And having experienced what it was like to not be free during the short Cardassian occupation, Howard and his wife and his brother knew just how sweet and precious a thing it was.
Which was, sadly, more than could be said for some of the better-off citizens of the Federation.

[darthdavid]

That really moved me...

[Steve]

DNS Typhoon, Interstellar Space, Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
14:12 GST


In a lonely corner of interstellar space over eight light years from any inhabited system and several off any normal travel line, Typhoon waited. Behind her were twelve other ships built in a similar fashion by a multitude of nations; all of them were old and worn compared to sleek, new Typhoon. She was one of the better kept secrets of the government, having long been planned and only being approved for construction after Nicolas Mamatmas became President. Her shakedown were over, errors had been fixed, and she was going on her first truly active deployment.
Seated in the center pit of her control bridge was Typhoon's captain, of wolf-gray hair and beard. Captain Sergei Ramius sat in silence while his crew went about their tasks. The silence would end in a moment, as Typhoon's sensors picked up a contact. The rendezvous had been made.
"Con, Radio," a voice broke over the PA. "Incoming signal from GateShip Lewis Macauley. They are preparing to open jump point and have advised us to maneuver into entry position."
"Helm, put us five kilometers off Macauley's ventral side."
"Aye Captain."
Swiftly Typhoon moved into her position. A few minutes passed and Ramius found himself staring at his visual display, showing the large Gateship. It was cylindrical in shape, with four protrusions in the middle of the ship going outward in an X-shaped arrangement by the ship's bearing. At the end of each "claw" were emitters that were beginning to glow with increasing yellow until....
In a moment the buildup of energies completed and four streams of energy rushed forth, converging brilliantly thirty kilometers off the bow of the Macauley. At the convergence there was a massive riipple of energy in space that grew until it's greenish and goldish hues were several kilometers across. "Helm, engage main sublight drives. Take us into the jump point."
Typhoon's engines lit up. She moved forward, entering the rippling tear in the fabric of the universe. There was a brief sensation of elsewhereness as the visual sensors simply shut down, unable to process the incomprehensible nature of the "ether" between universes.
And then it was over. Open space greeted them. The officer at the helm looked back and reported, "Picking up navigational beacon from New Liberty, sir. We're within entry margin."
"Very good. Engage the ECS."
Buttons were flipped and, to an external viewer, Typhoon literally faded out of sight with a slight rippling effect. "ECS engaged sir, emissions well below stealth threshold."
From another station, Ramius' XO; Lt. Cmdr. Alex Corwin, spoke up. "Engineering reports warp drive ready for stealth running, Captain. Reactor dialing programs in place to keep reactors running below detection threshold."
"Mister Corwin, go to Code Orange running status." Ramius waited for him to finish the order, during which the ship's running status lights changed color. Afterward Ramius activated his own PA receiver and began to speak. "Greetings, crew of Typhoon. We have completed transit to Universe ST-3 and are now preparing for stealth running. In ten minutes the last transmission will be sent from this ship, after which we will be observing strict radio silence for an indetermined amount of time. I hope you have all taken my advice and finished composing messages home. You have ten minutes to finish doing so."
"Our orders are to penetrate Cardassian space and to lay off of their capital world itself, where we will observe all traffic and report on it. We are the hounds, sent to tell the hunters where their prey shall be. We will also be watching, and waiting, for the message from Strategic Command should retaliation against a Cardassian attack be necessary. In light of that possibility, upon our arrivval to our observing point, every shift will conduct at least one missile launch drill."
"Our Allied Nations are in a war, comrades, and it may fall upon us to end it. I expect you to be prepared should that be necessary. Ramius out." Ramius looked to his navigator. "Mister Kamarov, give us a course for Cardassia Prime, cruise speed."
"Yes Captain, setting course now...." The Russian crunched numbers at his station and looked to the helm. "Helmsman, make your bearing Zero-Four-Four mark One-One-Eight, set warp factor for a speed of eight and a half lyphs."
"Aye, making course Zero-Four-Four mark One-One-Eight, speed eight point five lyphs. Ready at your command, Sir."
Ramius nodded. "Engage warp drives. Prepare to commence radio silence in nine minutes."
"Aye Captain."
The older captain settled back in his seat and watched as the Typhoon went on her way, carrying a load that could wipe out most of Cardassia Prime's population.

[Steve]

Wexford Naval Headquarters, New Liberty, ADN Colonial Zone
Universe Designate ST-3
20 December 2153 AST
15:00 GST


A holographic map of the region hovered over the conference room table, a curved and bumpy half-disc showing the advance of Alliance forces into Cardassia. At the touch of control keys the units in each system could be brought up. Currently, twin arrows were coming from the planets Corwich and Lappstein toward the Cardassian system of Dervak, one labeled with orange and the other with blue.
"Sixty-three divisions on Bajor and our current sixty divisions in the Cardassian systems we've taken leave us with a current reserve of fifty-four divisions, not counting units still in the pipeline," Lumet reported. "Since we have agreed to increase support for the Commonwealth's impending offensive, I have deployed an additional ten divisions to the Commonwealth right flank, giving us sixteen to support their Percival Offensive. As a result of these changed deployments and the need to prepare for the pre-offensive strikes on identified Cardassian camps, the Commonwealth attack has been postponed until Christmas."
"Thank you, General Lumet." Simonov nodded to the control technician, who called up the next hologram This showed four arrows stabbing out of the Cardassian systems occupied by the Alliance, every arrow aimed at Cardassia Prime. "This is the current plan for Operation: Rolling Thunder. We are aiming for a launch date of December 28th, with one hundred Army divisions and a dozen Marine divisions supported by the 5th Fleet with elements of 9th. The Aerospace Force will provide the usual pre-invasion strikes on enemy defense stations and ground bases. Field Marshal Rothbard is in command of the operation. Any points of discussion?"
Dissent first came from Polk. "I for one think that we need to delay the attack. Our supplies haven't been replenished to safe levels and won't be until at least the New Year. We're still having to support the troops we already have in occupation as well. Virtually every ship coming through the Gate now is a transport vessel carrying our supplies. This situation isn't tenable to launching a new, large-scale offensive."
"I must agree with Marshal Polk, Admiral," Lumet said. "Sustaining one hundred divisions over long interstellar distances like that is going to require a tremendous logistics effort that I do not feel is possible at this moment. We really should give it a couple of weeks."
Simonov looked away, some disgust on his face, and toward Crawford. "General?"
"We should at least give it a few days," Crawford answered. "Just after New Year's would be splendid."
Sighing, Simonov returned to his seat. "I feel that you exaggerate the supply situation," he said. "I believe that we can launch at that time, and more importantly, that doing so will be critical to keeping the Cardassians off-balance. The key is to maintain the initiative, not stop and pause for breath at every step."
"It is your decision, Admiral," Crawford pointed out.
Yes, but we all know that if I make it over your objections, there will be hell to pay if something goes wrong. Shaking his head, Simonov said, "No, that is quite alright. We will launch on the 30th. Even two days should bring in millions of extra tons of supplies. At the very least, even if we don't make it to Cardassia, we can occupy more enemy space and put our bombers closer to their industrial heartland."
"The 30th it is, then." Lumet nodded in acceptance, as did Polk and Crawford.

[Steve]

Madred Village 23, Dervek, Cardassian Union
21 December 2153 AST
12:33 GST


It had been nearly a month since Christine had been sent to Madred Village 23, and in that time, not a single training raid had been launched by the Cardassians. The locals certainly didn't mind that, as it allowed for them to go on about their lives in what fashion they could.
Christine was living with Sharon Carter and Kristina Ivanova now. They had given her Kristina's old room and she was now working as a food server in the Village 23 Bar and Grill, as it called - it was in truth the equivalent of both mess hall and grocer for the villagers. She was on break at the moment and enjoying lunch with Carter. The robust redhead was a little sweaty from the morning's drill and training exercises, wearing a sleeveless dark gray shirt with knee-length patterned shorts. She had come in after her morning activities with the town militia/insurgency cell, who played the opposition force for the Cardassians. From what Christine had learned, there was a pool of villagers who rotated in and out of the militia, since those in it were subjected to the constant stress of being targeted in the next raid.
Carter's partly-muscled arms rested on the table as she chewed on a replicated steak, while Christine had a conventional salad of vegetables grown in the Village itself. "You've taken to life here well," Carter said to Christine.
"Thank you. I don't want to be a burden, and to have everyone fuss over me when I first showed up..."
"It's something we do here. We all look out for each other, since we've got nobody else to do it."
After they both had a few more bites, Christine bit into her lip. "I've, uh, been curious about something, if you don't mind me asking."
"What?"
"Well, uh..." Christine looked awkward and put her hands on the table. "You and Kristina. I've never... known a couple... like you."
Instead of the angered expression Christine anticipated, she was replied with an amused grin. "Kristina said you were getting curious. She's good for reading people."
"I don't mean to pry...."
"Oh, it's no problem. If we were concerned for privacy, Christine, we'd have never invited you to stay with us." Carter took a quick drink. "Well, I'll say first that Kristina and I used to be into men. In a way we still are. We first met at the Ilivor 2 Labor Camp about seven years ago. Kristina was a POW, and I was an unlucky member of a merc band from the Sphere that crossed the wrong Gul. They'd tortured us both half to death by the time we ere in Ilivor, and there we were worked nearly to death until the mine vein was exhausted and the camp was closed. While we were in Ilivor, Kristina and I shared a bed in a purely platonic fashion and we watched out for one another. When we came here, we stayed friends while living in the same house. At first, we slept in different rooms, until the nightmares about what the Cardies had done to us were too much. We started sleeping in the same bed, purely platonic again. But, over time, I guess a bit of a spark came between us. It began with gentle kisses good night, an occasional embrace. Time passed, the kisses grew longer, the touching became more intimate, and the next thing you know..." Carter sighed. "We've been lovers for about seventeen months now."
Christine nodded in understanding and finished munching a mouthful of salad. "So, uh... what's it like? I mean, how do you two...."
"How do we make love?" Carter sat back in her chair, a lazy grin on her face and her hands folded before her. "Well, um, it depends on what we feel like doing. And what we feel like using. And..."
The door burst open and Edward Winfield rushed in, wearing workout clothes not too different from Carter's. "Sharon, they took her."
Christine watched Carter's face turned a little white. "Kristina?"
"Yes. Beamed her right up as we were jogging the perimeter. Absolutely no warning."
"What does that mean? Why did they take Kristina?"
Carter put a hand over her mouth, keeping her head and eyes low. When she finally looked to Christine, tears were appearing in her green eyes. "Probably to train a new interrogator, Christine. They took Kristina to... torture her.... to train another damned interrogator." Carter's fist slammed into the table, then her hand swept across it and threw her mostly-eaten lunch into the far wall. She started to sob. "Oh Kristina..."
"They'll send her back, I thought?" Christine looked from Carter to Edward. "Won't they?"
The New Anglian lowered his eyes. "Maybe. But sometimes... their training sessions go bad and the person returns completely broken.... or sometimes not at all."
Christine sat for a moment, mouth agape, before she covered it.


12:45 GST


Kercil had not met Jevil's replacement until now, and he was far too busy monitoring the physical condition of the prisoner on the restraint table to do more than get a general idea of her appearance. Glin Koviyal Orvel was cute to other Cardassians, with her small nose, large-looking eyes, and slim figure. She looked the slightest bit nervous at times as Horvem grilled her intensely on the imatter at hand.
Kristina was locked into the table. Her hands and feet were obscured by the locks themselves, though the rest of her body was visible; she was, by many standards, attractive and desirable. But she was laid out that way for a different reason, apparent as Horvem and Orvel spoke on.
Having given a brief dissertation on Human "neural weak points", Orvel took control of the device mechanism for the agonizers built into the table. Kristina's pained screams echoed in the room, with Kercil's responsibility being to alert them to her medical condition whenever Horvem desired.
This continued for a short while. When they finally stopped, Kristina laid whimpering on the table, her body covered in her own sweat. Kercil watched Horvem retrieve a device attachment for the table while speaking. "Sometimes, Glin, time constraints will forbid a slower pace for breaking your subject. What do you do in those situations?"
After thinking for a moment, Orvel replied, "Overwhelm the subject with negative stimulus. Attempt to break their will swiftly even if it means causing some physical damage."
"Exactly. And for some species, this is the best choice." Horvem put the attachment onto the table. It fit precisely upon the foot of the table. The instant Kristina saw it her face grew an extra shade of white. "Do you recognize this object, Glin?"
"It's a penetrator rod," Orvel replied in a business-like tone, though Kercil thought he saw her eyes waver a bit. "Aside from it's obvious applications of inducing negative stimulation into sensitive orifices, it's use adds to psychological trauma, specifically traumas generally related to violations of a sexual nature."
"What do you suppose is the best setting for a Human woman?"
"Ten," was Orvel's reply. Horvem gestured to the controls and Orvel put in the appropriate commands. The penetrator rod ceased being smooth, with raised surfaces of some bluntness appearing on them at places. "Neural stimulation levels should not be placed above Five, of course. Humans are slightly more sensitive than the norm and to have it any higher would place the subject in shock."
"Stop!" Kristina's wail drew the attention of all three Cardassians. "Please, not that! PLEASE!"
Horvem looked back to Orvel. "Glin Orvel, if this were an interrogation, how would you respond to this?"
"I would judge that the subject is close to breaking," Orvel said matter-of-factly. "Therefore I would reduce the actual intensity of the penetrator in favor of lighter settings, to reinforce to the subject that I am fully willing to use it. This should be capable of provoking a complete breaking of the subject without requiring higher settings and possible physical damage."
"Very good," Horvem said with approval. "Of course, this isn't an interogation. Use the settings up to the maximum to familiarize yourself with it's effect."
Kercil forced himself to turn away and focus on the colored display in front of him, with it's unliving humanoid bipedal profile as opposed to the squirming, screaming woman on the table. It was easier to focus on the changes of hue in her neural patterns than actually watching the penetrator pushed into her and activated. Kristina's screams were almost inhuman; if one were to just hear them without seeing what was happening, they might assume she was being ripped open and torn apart from the inside.
Kercil himself agonized over every moment, even as he mechanically replied to all requests on her medical status. Orvel used multiple combinations of sharpness settings for the penetrator's surface and power settings for it's neural stimulators, causing various kinds of response but all of them causing that same dreadful wail.
After a stretch of time that was an eternity for both Kercil and Kristina, Orvel stepped away from the controls and had the penetrator retract. She looked to Horvem. "You don't look so well, Glin Orvel," Horvem noted. "Problems?"
"Sir, I, uh.... it's nothing sir."
"That answer is unacceptable, Glin," Horvem said in a very severe tone. "What is troubling you?"
Orvel bit into her lip for a moment. "I apologize, sir, but I found this very uncomfortable."
"Will your discomfort in your duties cause you to neglect them?"
"No sir!" Orvel's refusal was strong. "I am here to serve Cardassia, sir. I will do whatever you order."
"Very good, Glin." Horvem was beaming with approval. "We need more people like you in the ranks of interrogators, Glin. It is a tough job. Many give in to it and grow too accustomed to the power they hold over their subjects. They become sadists. You must never allow that to happen, and I've found that discomfort for your duties is a very effective way of preventing that. You will make a very good military interrogator, Glin Orvel."
Orvel struggled to smile a little. "Thank you, sir."
"Now come, Glin. We'll go over my evaluation of this test over a glass of kanar. I've found it makes these things a little easier to live with. Glin Kercil, get her unlatched and beamed back down."
"Yes sir," Kercil said. He watched them leave and unlocked Kristina from the table. She was weeping loudly and didn't move even after her wrists and ankles were free. Kercil reached down, conscious of her nakedness in the back of his mind, and pulled her into a sitting position. "Come, I'm going to send you back home." When it became clear she wouldn't walk, Kercil opted to lift her, and as he moved closer to her neck and shoulder while reaching to do so, he whispered into her ear; "Do not react to this. Tell the others to be ready. The Alliance is coming for you in a few days." With that done, Kercil lifted her into his arms and carried her to the transporter room.


14:33 GST


Halina Poniatowski's little home doubled as her doctor's office, and it was in her living room/waiting room that Christine and Edward sat quietly with Carter, who was teary-eyed as they waited for Halina to come to them. Her chief nurse, a Nova Savonard named Antonia, finally came out. "She's ready to see you, Sharon," the woman said in accented English. Carter stood and followed Antonia back.
Halina met her at the door just outside her secondary bedroom-turned-exam room. "How is she?" Carter asked.
Speaking softly, the younger woman replied, "Alive. She'll heal, but they really worked her over this time. Even used the scrapers." Halina stepped out of the doorway. "Go ahead, I'll wait out here."
Carter nodded and entered the room. Kristina was curled up on the bed, wearing a simple poncho-like gown. Carter walked up to her and softly said, "Kristina?"
She turned and looked at her. Sitting up, Kristina's eyes welled up with tears as Carter embraced her. "I begged them to stop. I begged. I begged."
"Shh... I know you did." Carter held her tightly, putting a hand in Kristina's brown hair. Her tears dripped down top to Kristina's gown. "I wish it had been me," she sobbed. "I wish they'd taken me instead."
"I can't do this any more, Sharon. I can't live... like... this." Wracked with sobs, it took Kristina a short time to end her sentence. "I can't stand it. I just want to die."
"Please don't say that."
"It hurts too much!" Kristina's sobbing became so strong she couldn't say any more words. The two lovers held each other close and remained there for some time.


It was dusk when Carter and Kristina emerged from the back. Edward and Christine were both still waiting for them. "Kristina?"
"I''m alive, Red." Kristina's tear-stroked cheeks were enough to see that "alive" was the best she could do. "Listen, everyone, we have work to do."
"What do you mean, Kristina?"
Kristina looked to Carter and brought a chair up. "Anyone remember Horvem's lackey? The male one with the sad eyes? As he was lifting me up off of the restraint table today, he knelt over and whispered into my ear that we needed to 'be ready'. He then said that 'the Alliance is coming for you'."
Christine's face lifted. "The Alliance. I.. I guess things finally broke. When I was... arrested by the Cardassians, they'd been arguing with the Alliance for months over Bajoran refugees in Alliance territory."
"This probably explains the lack of AIF raids," Halina chimed in. A small, hopeful smile came to her face. "The Cardassians must be fighting the Alliance in a war."
"And the Alliance is coming here." Edward's smile surpassed Halina's. "We'll finally get the Hell out of here. We'll get to go home."
Carter was the only one who didn't smile at that. She merely kept her arm around Kristina's back and waist and pulled her closer. "Yes. We'll get to go home." Carter then, sadly, added Except for me to that.
Nevertheless, for the first time in years, Carter felt hope for the future that she'd never had before, and she loved it.

[Steve]

Turoa Mountains, Bajor
19:06 GST


An open grotto about two kilometers from the closest cave exit was where the 13th Provisional Order had established it's camp. Rations were under careful guard and all soldiers kept their arms with them as they spent the day playing kotra or other games in an attempt to pass the time. To preserve power each man was alloted a limited amount of personal light usage a day; at all other times, only the very meager lights erected in the camp provided illumination from the complete darkness of the Turoa caves.
Gul Luvar lived as his men did, sleeping in a crowded prefab plastic structure among many erected in the center of the camp. He ate the same daily ration as his men, joined them in the daily drills, and adhered to the same standard of rationed light. Currently he was sitting in the dark, thinking quietly. He heard movement at the door and looked up habitually, though all he could make out was a faint outline of the person in the doorway to his barracks. "Glin Damar?"
"Yes, Gul." Damar stepped forward. "How did you know it was me?"
"I can't see for a damn in here, Damar, but there are other ways of knowing." Luvar chuckled. "Go ahead and see if you can find a seat."
After stumbling around for a bit, Damar found an empty bed to sit on. "Any of the men asleep in here?"
"None. Senior Trooper Furak woke up about an hour ago and immediately roused every man in his unit. It was rather amusing, reminded me of when I was a mere 6th Ranker." Luvar laid back on his bed. "How are the men faring? Any more news from our other units?"
"We received more transmissions a few hours ago. The 24th Order surrendered last night, but the 192nd is still fighting. Gul Iravak said in the transmission that he only has two thousand unwounded men left in his command and that he intends to fight until relieved."
"Iravak was always stubborn," Luvar grumbled. "He'll get all of his men killed just so he can say he never surrendered. What about Dalkyra?"
"8th, 111th, and 115th Orders are still holding out. We intercepted some open broadcasts from Alliance news services. They say an entire quarter of the city's been reduced to rubble in the fighting." Luvar grunted as a reply. Damar leaned closer to him. "Gul, the men are becoming a little restless They see these broadcasts and hear of our troops being slaughtered. They don't like hiding down here in the dark while other Cardassians are fighting."
"They'll understand why we're down here soon enough." Luvar released a sigh. "I'm not going to get them killed in a direct fight with the Alliance. We'll fight like the Bajorans did, hitting and running. It's the only way we can hold out until the war ends."
After a moment, Damar finally asked, "Do you think Central Command will give in to Alliance demands to end the war? Are they even capable of it?"
"I'm not sure. I don't think the people in charge will if they aren't forced into it. But you know how things are in the Capitol, Damar. Right now I bet half of the Central Command is sharpening their knives while the other half is starting to grow eyes in the back of their heads. Plus that damned Obsidian Order will be waiting in the shadows, their usual plots and schemes. It's all going to Hell."
"That's the way things have always been."
"But they don't have to be that way."
Damar looked at the shadowy figure of Luvar on his cot. He leaned even closer and softly whispered, "Sir?"
Luvar sat up and looked Damar in what he thought would be his eyes. "There's no Obsodian Order here, Glin, and I'm quite sure that this will get me cashiered by the Central Command. I don't fear them anymore."
"Then.... what are you meaning when you say things don't have to be this way?"
Luvar appreciated the curious yet cautious tone to Damar's voice. He sighed. "I'm an old man, Damar, though I don't look it. I've fought Talarians, Tsen'kethi, Klingons, Humans, Vulcans, all sorts of races. And I've learned a lot about them. Some things that our superiors would prefer no Cardassian to learn of." With a conspiratorial tone, he said, "Do you know what a 'Republic' is?"
"No, sir, I do not."
"IT's a remarkable form of government. The Humans coined the word from one of their ancient languages, a term in what they call 'Latin'; res publica. It's a government of checks and balances. No Central Command, no Detepa Council.... you have an executive to lead the State, a legislature to write and approve laws, and a judiciary to determine if the laws are proper to the Constitution."
"'Constitution', sir?"
"A written document, Damar. A document outlying the rights of a nation's citizens, the powers that the government may or may not assume, and what specific form the government has. The judiciary of a Republic then decides if any new laws violate this Constitution in any way. It's not a perfect system, but it works, because the executive, the legislature, and the judiciary constantly check the powers of the other branches."
Damar nodded silently. He wasn't into the political sciences - What Cardassian was? Political scientists ran a far higher risk of getting shot or sent to a labor camp - but he thought he understood some of what Luvar was saying. And he could sense the energy in his commander's voice. Luvar had thought on these things for a long time. A long long time.
"Our problem, Glin, has been that we never had balance. First we had the plutocrats, the oligarchs, the people who dominated the Detepa Council. Their power was not checked. They decided what laws would be written, which would be enforced, and any legal issues involved. Then they ruined everything and the military took over.... and started to do the very same thing! Power, pure unrestrained power, is why we are huddling in the dark like voles right now and why our fellow Cardassians are dying by the thousands while Legate Kelataza is entertainin his young mistress and drinking fine kanar. There is no check on the power of the Central Command save for the Obsidian Order, which is even worse. There's no check on power to keep it restrained, to protect ordinary Cardassians from it. And that is what we need more than anything."
Damar silently nodded. "You may be right. But what can we do? We're just two field officers with no important connections back home."
"Yes, we're the ones who have to do the dying." Luvar smirked to himself. "Ah, Glin, I hope you understand when I say I'm happy a man like you has come to serve in my unit. You're a bright young officer, very smart. Smarter than you know. Given a chance, a man like you can go much further than some crusty old orphan-soldier like me."
Damar didn't quite know how to respond to that. "Thank you, sir, for your faith in me," was the reply he managed.
"Now, if you don't mind.... I have been thinking for far too long, and this tired old man must rest. Can you rouse me in four hours to meet with the regimental commanders?"
"Of course sir." Damar stood. "Have a pleasant sleep, sir."
Damar left, leaving Luvar to dream his dreams of a better future for Cardassia.

[Steve]

DropShip Cyrilla Ward, Unlisted Star System, Cardassian Space
24 December 2153 AST
22:00 GST


The bridge of the modified DropShip was mostly silent, save of course for the angry proclaimations of it's de facto commander.
Natasha slammed her hand down on the comm panel, cutting the feed to the JumpShip Avalon. She looked up to her granddaughter Ranna, who was standing silently across from her, and frowned. "Why didn't these idiots do any systems checks before we left Corwich! Goddamned morons!"
Before Ranna could speak, Natasha continued. "This whole ship looks like it's held together by duct tape and bailing wire because they wouldn't take their time and do the damned job right. No, they just tossed the new technology in where they could find Goddamned space! And now we're stranded out here in the middle of nowhere until those idiots on the Avalon can get their systems fixed back up! God dammit!"
"Colonel..."
"We don't need half this crap! Tell me, why does a JumpShip need a sophisticated subspace sensor system or a new fusion reactor?! Why in the Goddamned Hell does this DropShip need an anti-matter torpedo launcher?! It's a transport ship God dammit!"
"Col...."
"I am so Goddamned tired of walking through this ship and tripping over wires and fixtures and whatever the Hell the refit crew surats didn't put the fuck up because they're so goddamned lazy!" Slamming her fist into another panel, Natasha looked up at Ranna. "Yes, Sergeant?"
"Sir, we have completed inspection of the upgrades to our 'Mechs." Ranna noticed the look on Natasha's face and quickly added, "They work fine. All the wires are picked up and nothing is hanging out."
Natasha chuckled. "Yes, well, our techs handled that."
"How much longer until we can jump?"
"They're not sure. I just hope there's something left of that camp when we get there. I'm going to be pissed as all Hell if we get there and find nothing but ashes and corpses." Natasha frowned. "In fact, if that happens, I may go over to the Avalon and toss it's techs out of an airlock."



Dervek Military Station, Dervek, Cardassian Union
25 December 2153 AST
00:08 GST


Kercil was rather inconspicuous sitting at his desk, but what he was doing was anything but normal. As the displays on his screen cycled through action after action, Kercil used his access and higher access codes provided to him by Abigail and Imina.to get into the station's important command systems. He implanted a few viruses and remotely took control of the transporter. Looking nervously at the time counter, Kercil monitored the sensors and saw that there were no contacts. Where are they? They were supposed to jump in by this time.
There was simply too much risk to keep his access to the main system open any longer. At any time a watch officer could notice the unscheduled access and start locking the system. Kercil activated the virus to take out the sensor grid and communications systems, then set a time delay on the virus that would target the station's plasma torpedoes on the planetside stocks of heavy explosives before causing an instant self-destruction by releasing the storage fields on the station's anti-matter supplies, and used his transporter controls to start beaming weapon caches to Madred Village 23. As a final act, knowing that within thirty seconds the activity would prompt a system shutdown from Ops, Kercil initiated the transporter for two final commands; the first locked on to Abigail and Imina, the second locked to him, and all three were beamed to Village 23.


At the time that Kercil escaped, alarm klaxons had begun blaring in Ops. Gul Yuvar stormed out of his office. "What is going on?!"
"Massive computer failures, Gul. The entire system's been corrupted."
"And just how did that happen?!" Yuvar stormed up to a computer console and inputted his codes, looking to override the system. The computer beeped refusal. "What's..."
"Our defensive systems are firing, sir! Torpedoes are...." The screen changed to show parts of the planet below. Explosions appeared in a number of locations. "They were targeted at our strategic arms stockpiles, Gul."
As Yuvar opened his mouth to make another command, the anti-matter powering the station was released from containment. Within moments, Dervak Military Station was reduced to fragments and atoms.


Dervak Defense Command
00:10 GST


Gul Korval watched Dervak Military Station disappear in a fireball and slammed a hand on his panel. "Is it a cloaked ship? What's happening?!"
"I'm not sure, Sir," a technician replied. "The sensor grid for the entire system is refusing to work. There's some kind of problem in the computers."
"We've lost contact with bases across the planet. All of our planetary defensive stations and torpedo lockers have been destroyed."
Korval began to scream and curse as he ordered the Defense Command to full alert. "Get me Central Command!"
"We can't, sir. The communications grid is also offline."
Korval screamed in rage. "Then get a shuttle and use it's system! Don't let it tie into our main computers!"
"Yes sir!"
As one technician ran off to do so, another looked up. "Gul, just before Dervak Station's torpedoes fired and the sensors went offline, there seemed to have been some transporter operations. I'm tracing them now...."
"Where did they beam to? A ship?"
"No, planetside. Triangulating source...." The technician looked up. "It's the Restricted Zone, sir. They beamed into the Village."
Korval's jaw clenched. "Mobilize the 1826th Regiment. Order them to shoot on sight."


Madred Village 23


Most of the village was asleep when Imina, Abigail, and Kercil materialized in the city center. The village guard raised the alarm, believing it to be an unannounced exercise. Abigail materialized on her back in sleeping clothes while Imina was standing with a string bottom, her arms over her head as if they had been held over her head by something. She looked about in surprise and rubbed at her wrists. She grinned happily at Kercil and went up to embrace him. "I knew you would save me," she said while holding him. Kercil looked at her back and saw just whatr she'd been saved from, given the red lines crossing it, the handiwork of an Orion slave whip.
Around them, boxes of equipment had materialized. Kercil noticed one of the Human men running up and held his hands up. "I'm here as a friend!" he proclaimed.
The man looked to Imina and Abigail and back to Kercil. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your lives. I've brought weapons and equipment. Batteries, forcefield generators, everything to help this village hold out until rescue can come. We need to get everyone up and ready to fight or in shelter immediately. Planetary Command won't take long to realize what's happened."
The villager didn't seem to convinced, but a familiar head of blond hair appeared from the village town hall. "Mister Winfield, I'm here as a friend," Kercil said to Edward.
Edward nodded and turned to an assistant. "Sound the alarm. Get all the children to the bunker under the town hall. Everyone else can get any guns we can find for them."
"Are you sure we can trust this Cardie, sir?"
"Yes, I damned well am, so get to it already!" Edward now seemed to notice Abigail and Imina. "And get them some clothes for God's sake!"

[Steve]

Undisclosed Location, Cardassian Union
24 December 2153 AST
23:29 GST


In a dark, non-descript office, Jorma Gedys stood naked with her arms suspended above her head, her wrists and ankles locked into electronic restraints. Energy cycled through her taxed nervous system and drew agonized screams from her tortured lungs. It seemed like an eternity of pain had come since that fateful night when she had passed the information on to H'daen. The Security Forces, Military Interrogators, and now the very head of the Cardassian military's Special Interrogations Division.
He was not that horrifying. Gul Madred sat calmly at his desk, pondering a statuette collectible he'd received from an archeological dig, occasionally running his finger over a control to send painful stimulus through Gedys' nervous system. There were four powerful lights behind him, making him into a dark silhouette in Gedys' vision. "How many lights are there?"
"Four." She'd answered truthfully, as she'd done so many times before, and as on each occasion she had been rewarded with an intense surge from the neural stimulators built into the restraint locks holding her body in place. Her scream echoed off the walls, filling the hot air of the Cardassian office. "There are four!"
"And I say there are five."
"You're insane!" Gedys screamed before she was again besieged by the pain. Her throat became so raw from the resulting scream she could barely speak normally. She broke down into sobs as Madred steppled his hands in front of her. She prayed to herself again, seeking deliverence and strength. She had to protect the secret of what she'd given to H'daen. So many innocent lives were counting on her.
"They said you were a tough one. Usually the security forces are enough to break normal Bajorans. Military interrogators then get those who don't break to them. But you? You, my dear girl, are so strong of will that you've made it all the way here. You have my admiration." Madred's voice sounded very sincere as he stood up and extinguished the lights for the moment. "However, our game has run out of time. I need what you know, and I need it now." Madred pressed a button on his desk. "Send them in."
The door behind his office opened and two Bajorans were brought in by guards. They were dressed raggedly with their wrists bound behind their back. Cardassian guards stood behind them and Madred walked over to them, sidearm in hand. "Look up," he ordered. The two Bajorans looked up slowly and Gedys gasped in horror at the sight of her parents. "Mother! Father!" She stared at their sad eyes and her heart nearly failed her.
Madred turned the lights back on. He put his sidearm to the back of her father's head and said, "How many lights?"
Gedys stared at the sight, frozen in disbelief in fear. Only when Madred barked, "How many lights?!" did she snap back to reality and respond honestly. "Four."
Her father's head exploded. The elder Jorma's upper body disappeared in a cloud of rapidly-disassociating molecules and dropped lifelessly. Pulling in vain against the restraints around her wrists and hands, Gedys screamed at her father's death. "No! NOOOOOOO!!!"
Madred calmly put the gun to her mother's head. "How many lights?"
Gedys' eyes filled with tears now as the immense truth of her father's death left her struck dumb. She couldn't speak for the pain she felt. Her father, who'd held her so tight when she was little and promised her everything would be fine. He father, who promised to protect her.
"How many lights, Jorma Gedys? This is the last time I'll ask."
Gedys swallowed. Her mother, her sweet mother.... she couldn't lose them both! And, it was only about the lights, wasn't it? Just lights.... "There are five lights!"
Madred smiled at her. He pulled the gun away from her mother's head. "That's good Gedys. Very good. We're making progress." He returned to his seat, watching Gedys weeping as he did so. Once he reclined in his seat Madred looked up to her and calmly added, "Computer, end program."
In an instant, the Jorma couple faded out of existance. Gedys watched them disappear with widened eyes. She looked back to Madred. "So, what did you tell the Romulan smuggler? What information did you pass to him?"
"Nothing."
Madred turned the machine on again. And he didn't turn it off for quite a while; by the time he did, Gedys' body was twitching and her face had started to turn blue from lack of breath. "Please.... stop...", she panted, her voice almost inaudible from it's coarseness.
"Then tell me what I want to know." Madred went to activate the device again when a call came in over the intercom. "What is it, Glin?"
"Liquidation operations complete, Gul."
"Excellent news, Glin. Madred out." Madred noticed the slight look of interest on Gedys' face. "Well, that settles that problem."
"Killing more innocent people?"
"Why, of course not. Merely seeing to the elimination of enemies of the Cardassian state. We'd kept them in my special facilities to train our counter-insurgency forces and field interrogators, but the Alliance's commitment to justice is somewhat lacking. They've been releasing these criminals everywhere. So, we took the precaution of eliminating them." Madred shrugged. "Oh well. Where were we?"
Gedys' heart threatened to come out from under her. She'd endured all of this pain, all of this anguish, and in the end, it didn't matter. Her suffering had been for nothing. "DAMN YOU!!!!" she screamed loudly. "I BELIEVED IN YOU AND YOU BETRAYED ME!" Gedys broke down into crying, her head hanging low.
Madred looked at her with an interested expression. "What was that all about?" He waited for her to cry a little and then turned the stimulators back on for a moment, at low power, to direct her attention back to him. "What's wrong?"
"I.... I..... I told H'daen about your facilities," Gedys wept. "And I gave him the orders sent to you to slaughter the people in them if the Alliance attacked. I... I was trying... trying to save lives.... I prayed to the Prophets to help me..... and they... they've betrayed me.... let me suffer.... and fail.... I...I just want to die...."
"Well, the penalty for espionage and treason is death," Madred reminded her. "So don't worry about that." Madred returned to his desk and pressed a button on it.
"Yes, Glin?"
"Alert our facilities. The enemy knows about our liquidation plans. Begin immediate preparations for liquiditation."
"Yes, sir."
The conversation ended and Madred noticed the look on Gedys' face. She rasped, "How did you know that was...."
"We went over everything Celrim had in his possession that you would have considered important enough to smuggle out. That was the obvious reason and the only reason a normal person like you would hold up to military interrogation. Of course, I needed verification, which you have so kindly provided." Madred stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised to take my daughter to the zoo. Some guards will come by shortly to return you to your cell. Have a pleasant day."
Madred left Gedys alone. She began to wail in despair and self-hatred. Forgive me, oh Prophets, forgive me! How could I have been so stupid?! She continued to cry to herself even after she was returned to her cell.
At that moment, the only thing Gedys desired was death, and a release from the horrible failure that was her life.


FCS Warspite, En Route to Shervarak System, ADN Colonial Zone
25 December 2153 AST
01:30 GST


The battleship FCS Warspite was once HMS Warspite. Built for service in the Royal Navy during the learn years at the end of the previous century, the Warspite was over seventy-five years old and, with the exception of re-activation for war-time service against the Neo-Nazi Rebellion and the Agresskans, she had spent the last thirty years in mothballs until 2152, when she was sold to the Federated Commonwealth. The refurbished, repaired Warspite was now the flagship of the FCN contingent to the FCEF.
Admiral Sir Oliver Johnston was not actually from the Commonwealth. He was a Royal Navy officer from the British Empire of Universe FHI-8 who'd retired from Imperial service and now served with the FCN, having been granted a noble title in the Commonwealth in exchange for his service. He was leading about one half of the FCEF fleet currently toward the Shervarak system, which was near the last reported position of the remains of Cardassia's 1st Fleet. He had with him about fifty warships of destroyer size or greater, including the battle carrier FCS Invincible.
As Johnston viewed his displays and holotanks, the official orders were broadcast from Corwich. At 01:50 General Standard Time on Christmas Day 2151 AST, the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth began their first extrauniversal military offensive, attacking with eleven divisions worth of troops and over half of the available forces of the growing Federated Commonwealth Navy. Accompanying them and the Alliance forces on their right flank were both nations' special forces.
Operation: Percival was now underway.

[PainRack]

Just one thing......

The LIC is the most elite intelligence agency in the Inner Sphere, with only Wolfnet exceeding it(according to Wolfnet that is.) We can all remember Domini V, when 7 LIC agents disabled the entire Jumpship fleet that was going to launch a counter-attack against the FedCom. Similarly, the Rabid Foxes as spec forces are rivalled only by DEST....... and that is only because DEST is demonstrably more muli-trained than they are.

IOW, you're throwing the Inner Sphere best state spec-ops against the Carddies........ why am I thinking that when the FC navy bites it, its not going to matter?

[Steve]

Madred Village 23, Dervak, Cardassian Union
02:00 GST


The entire village was filled with activity. Adults prepared ambushes and traps, children were taken to shelter, and weapons were distributed as quickly as possible.
Christine had never held a gun before, but now she had a Cardassian rifle in her arms as she followed Kristina and Carter to a position. Everyone had put on the darkest and most covering clothing they could find.
The three women huddled together between houses. Christine was shaking as she joined them in crouching low to the ground. Carter was the first to notice and she extended an arm, putting it on Christine's shoulder. "It's never easy the first time," Carter said. "Just don't think about it when the time comes. It's them or it's us."
"I... Okay." Christine was lying saying that, of course. She wasn't okay with any of this. Her heart was beating rapidly even now at the prospect of the fight to come.


In the center of town, Edward and Kercil were standing over a hastily-made map of the town, showing where each impromptu "squad" had been placed. With just two and a half thousand or so potential combatants, it would be impossible to resist a full Order. Edward said so, and Kercil replied by shaking his head. "They'll send a regiment first. I made sure to snatch these weapons from the bases I destroyed, so they don't know they're missing yet. By the time they realize that we have arms, they will undoubtedly have used a shuttle to communicate with Central Command. And then they'll find out they have greater concerns."
"Oh?"
"The Alliance is launching an offensive as we speak. They're coming here."
"In how long?"
"The main force will arrive in a few days." Kercil noticed Edward's grim look. "But I was told that a special unit is going to arrive today. They may already be moving into the system now. They will help us hold out until the main force arrives."
"I hope you're right."
"Command Post, this is Ingolffson. We've spotted Cardassians with our binocs. They're coming in."
"I hear you." Edward looked to an assistant, who began calling the other groups of people to let them know the Cardassians were coming. "Hold your ground. Command Post out." Edward looked to Kercil. "Whoever they are, I hope that help comes soon."



Sorry about the small update, I was going to tack on the Battle of Shervarak, but I wasn't happy with how I wrote it and I don't feel like changing it right now, so I'll wait until I can find a way to make it read better.

[Steve]

FCS Warspite, Shervarak, Cardassian Union
02:55 GST


Alarm klaxons sent the mostly untried crew of Warspite to their battlestations. From his command chair, Johnston watched on his tactical viewer as the Commonwealth fleet came out of warp en echelon with five rows of ten ships, arrayed to place the two divisions of battleships in the center of the formation. The Invincible was held back for the moment to launch the fighters she was to contribute to the coming battle.
About four AUs away, the Cardassian 1st Fleet had gathered near Shervarak; 90 ships strong, they had almost a 2 to 1 advantage on the Commonwealth fleet, not to mention the advantage of experience. The main counter to that was the morale of the two forces; the cautious inexperience of the Commonwealth fleet versus the battered pride of 1st Fleet, which had fought and lost three battles in a war their nation was clearly losing.
Johnston ordered the fleet to turn and present their starboard arcs to the oncoming enemy. The Cardassians approached in a loose formation, noticing the relative lack of fighters for the Commonwealth flee and, in Johnston's opinion, seeking to dilute the firepower advantage that Alliance forces had enjoyed in previous fights.
"All ships in position, Sir," one of his officers replied.
"Very good. Prepare for missile salvos."
"Aye sir."
The distance closed quickly. The Cardassian fleet chose to make an in-system warp jump - one of their specialties - and were within three million kilometers even as the missiles were reported ready. Finally, at a million kilometers, Johnston gave the order. "Fire all missiles."
Plume after plume of energy appeared along the launchers on the Commonwealth's missile-carrying ships. About two hundred were launched in this first salvo, racing on to the Cardassian fleet. The Cardassians opened fire with their anti-ship weapons. Explosions appeared to mark successful hits and the destruction if the incoming missiles.
But then the explosions took on a new form and shape as missiles made impacts. The Cardassians, to their credit, performed superb maneuvers to evade the incoming missiles, and their loose formation made it easier to do so. In the end, only a fifth of the salvo struck home. Fifteen Cardassian ships were lost to the attack, another ten damaged from moderate to severe degrees and the remainder suffering minor damage or just shield loss.
At one light second another missile barrage lashed out at the Cardassians, even as they finally opened fire on the Commonwealth fleet. A Galor charging straight for the Warspite broke into two as a missile slammed into it's mid-section. The Galor behind it suffered the wrath of Warspite's 260mm particle cannons. The shields failed and a torpedo from a destroyer blew off the Galor's bridge.
But the Cardassians were able to give their own blows. Warspite shook as she was pummelled by photon and plasma torpedoes that forced their way through her point-defense. Beside her, the battleship Lion took a hit to one of it's warp field nacelles that sent debris and plasma flying everywhere from the resulting explosion. Three Commonwealth ships disappeared off of Johnston's tactical viewer, then a fourth as the Cardassians plunged into range and poured the attack on. Johnston imagined what they were going to do; split his fleet in two and annihilate one half.
And he was going to let them. He looked at the timer, which read 03:08 GST. Another few minutes were all that was necessary...


CDS Okar


Gul Korep watched as his veterans plunged into the outnumbered enemy fleet, ignoring the enemy's firepower with pure will and a drive to prevail finally in this war. His lead formation itself poured fire upon one of the enemy's battleships as they went past. The torpedo and compressor beam barrage finally had it's desired effect, given the explosions flaring up through the vessel's armor plating.
Korep brought his fleet's vanguard around, intending to envelop and annihilate one half of the enemy fleet. He had to keep the range close to nullify the enemy's missile; orders were given to that effect.
The Okar shuddered from a torpedo hit coming from a rather determined Commonwealth cruiser that had broken formation with the rest of the fleet. Korep smirked at the enemy's inability to maintain order and, rather calmly, tasked Okar's squadron companions to take the cruiser on. It got off a few more shots, prompting the Okar's operations officer to report sheild failure in the rear port quarter, before being chased back to the protection of it's heavier comrades by three Neterok-class cruisers and a Mark 5 Galor. Just as it returned to formation a spread of photon torpedoes detonated around it's rear section, smashing through the shields and tearing much of the rear section up.
"Look at them, they can't even control themselves." Korep kept watching his displays.


FCS Warspite


"Sir, orders?"
Johnston's chief of staff, Rear Admiral Phillips, was standing nearby watching the holotank display set up in Warspite's command center. "They're going to encircle Admiral Campbell's squadron, sir. Shouldn't we..."
After glancing at the time display, Johnston nodded. "Order all ships to turn ninety degrees to starboard and begin max burn!"
At that order the Commonwealth fleet turned, save for the handful of ships which had lost engine power. Their aft-facing weapons maintained fire on the Cardassian fleet as they sought to gain distance.


CDS Okar


"It pains me to watch such simpleton tactics," Korep muttered as the Commonwealth fleet completed it's revolution and tried to run. A ninth Commonwealth ship disappeared from his screens; there were now forty enemy ships pulling away from his seventy. Then two more flashed out. "Stay between the enemy fleets. I don't want them reunifying."
As always, 1st Fleet responded perfectly. They were now surrounding one half of the Commonwealth fleet on three sides. Their formations were kept at all times as divisions darted to and from the enemy, pouring fire on and then retreating while comrades fired on the enemy. Everything was proceeding as Korep desired.
With his fleet still at a solid 67 against 35 enemy ships still in combat, Korep heard his sensor officer make a report. "Sir, picking up a thermal radiation spike to starboard. I can't identify it and there are no ships in the area."
"Then what is causing it?"
"I'm not sure. It's been building up for the last twenty-five seconds or so..." The officer's eyes widened a bit and he gripped his console strongly. "Sir! New contacts to starboard!"
Korep jumped from his seat. "What?! Where did they come from?!"
"I don't know.... there were no warp signatures there before... they're coming in, reading sixty-four enemy contacts!"


FCS Avenger


The Valiant-class attack ship Avenger detached from the JumpShip Syrtis within five seconds of the jump completing. In the central chair of Valiant's command center, Major Kurt Durlacher supervised his ship's approach on the Cardassian fleet, as part of Attack Division 7 under Light Commodore Williams-Herlacher on the Serapis. He watched silently as the Cardassian fleet milled about on his screens.
The first shots fired by the new force were from the DropShips and JumpShips modified with missile launchers. The salvo struck the portion of the enemy fleet facing them, destroying four ships outright and damaging others. Following through on the attack were the modified Achilles-class DropShips and the escorting Valiant-class ships, bought directly from shipyards in the Alliance. The Achilles ships in the fleet had been modified, turning them into swift torpedo destroyers that raced ahead and unleashed a barrage of anti-matter torpedoes at the Cardassians. The Cardassians' reaction as their numbers decreased was to try and go after the thinly-shielded, unarmored Achilles, but those Cardassian ships that gave pursuit were in turn attacked by the Avenger and her sisters.
"Cardassians bearing down on the Mark Daniels," one of Durlacher's officers reported. "Two destroyers."
"Target lead destroyer with torpedoes, follow up on the second with the bow disruptor cannons."
Relative to the Daniels and it's pursuers, the Avenger seemed to swoop down and attack like a magnificant bird-of-prey with claws spread. Four anti-matter torpedoes crashed into the leading destroyer, smashing through it's shields and disabling it's power core. The Avenger turned her attentions to her second target. Rapd bursts of intense "phaser" energy erupted from her bow cannons, battering on the Cardassian's shields and bringing them down. As the Avenger raced past, an anti-matter torpedo from the aft launcher finished the Cardassian off.
Though three of the fifteen Achilles-class ships were lost or heavily damaged to enemy attack, the Cardassian attempt to deflect the newcomers failed.


CDS Kraxon


The Galor-class ship shuddered from a direct hit by the 270mm particle cannons on one of the Commonwealth battleships. Sparks flew from a handful of consoles, accompanied by the crackling of electrical energy. "We've lost shields on the starboard," announced the shrill soprano of the Kraxon's operations officer. "Extensive hull damage in that quarter!"
At that point the communications officer added, "Sir, the new enemy fleet has successfully engaged Gul Korep's portion of the fleet. We're outnumbered now."
Sitting in his chair, Gul Torvel glared angrily at the tactical screen he was viewing. Kraxon had survived the first enemy carrier strike on Jemik and the battles at Darane. He was not about to die here and now, not after surviving everything else.
"This battle is lost. Order all ships in our squadron to break out from between the enemy forces and rejoin the main fleet."
"But sir, Gul Korep...."
"Gul Korep can go to Hell! I'm not going to have us die here!"


FCS Warspite


Johnston didn't allow himself a smile of satisfaction at seeing his plan go off excellently. The jump had been perfectly timed, and with the second half of the fleet to keep the enemy on that side occupied, his initial force was free to pound the enemy between them.
Warspite's old guns poured it on, striking energy shield and solid hull time and time again in the close range. The Cardassian fleet began to disintegrate as individual commanders, seeing their predicament, broke formation and tried to get out of the vice. Invincible's fighters harrassed them as they fled to regroup with Korep. In doing so, they allowed Johnston's initial force to reunify... and place the rest of the Cardassian 1st Fleet in a vise.



FCS Avenger


Avenger zigged and zagged as it approached a group of Cardassian Galor's on it's main screen. The ship shuddered internally at direct hits. On the bridge, Durlacher was pulled against his harness by a particularly strong hit. "Shields down to forty percent! Armor holding!"
"Sir...."
"Target enemy ship ahead of us, fire all weapons!"
Torpedoes struck out from Avenger's bow, striking the Galor's bow shields. A hit from it's compressor beam drained Avenger's shields yet again, but the helmsman - one Leftenant Wilcox - kept the ship straight and true as the weapons officer triggered the Avenger's powerful forward battery. The rapid bursts of phaser energy struck the Galor's bow, battering down the shields already weakened by the torpedo attack. Explosions erupted from the Cardassian ship's bow at the impacts. Behind them, one of the Achilles-class ships followed and fired a spread of torpedoes that blew the bow of the ship off.
A pair of Cardassian cruisers turned to follow Avenger as it headed further into the Cardassian formation. Wilcox shifted left and right, maneuvering as best as he could to avoid their attacks. Torpedoes from the aft launcher struck, with one hitting directly, another exploding in proximity, and two missing; no appreciable damage had been done.
Durlacher at that point ordered a hard maneuver and turn. Avenger dipped down and turned hard, using it's lighter mass to the cruisers to quickly change it's orientation. As the cruisers flew in front of the ship the Leftenant at the gunnery station - a minor member of the Luvon family from Donegal - fired torpedoes; two out of four hit one target, nearly breaking through it's shields. Durlacher ordered pursuit, having gone from prey to hunter, and Leftenant Luvon kept up his barrage with the forward pulse phaser cannons. The trailing cruiser of the two lost shields from the second barrage and a pair of torpedoes finished it off. Durlacher was about to turn his attentions to the other cruiser when he saw it return to the protection of two Keldon-class heavy cruisers and their impressive bow weapons arrays. Taking a quick peak to see the location of the Mark Daniels, Durlacher ordered the Avenger back to link up with the Daniels once more.




CDS Okar


It wasn't the new arrivals that Korep was enraged about. It was his own fleet.
All it had taken was the enemy fleet brushing aside the cruisers and destroyers sent to attack their fast torpedo ships. The new enemy fleet's initial missile salvo had been met with usual Cardassian discipline. But the other half had not done the same. As soon as the crossfire began from the divided halves of the initial enemy fleet, the force he'd kept in place for keeping them seperate began to break formation to get out of the trap. "All ships maintain formation!" Korep shouted. "Dammit, I'll shoot any Gul that doesn't keep his ship in position!"
Korep's orders were to little avail. The 1st Fleet's commanders were survivors for a reason. They had seen peers and comrades wiped out left and right, outmaneuvered and outgunned, and they were not about to risk destruction in that position. And in their maneuvers, they'd doomed the battle. Korep could see that first group of enemy vessels reuniting... and placing his force in a new vise. It was going to be Zygola all over again.
This alone did not mean defeat. There was always the chance Korep could get far enough away to reform his fleet and meet the foe once again. But Korep had also had too many close calls in this war. He had become too familiar with defeat, and he wasn't about to sacrifice himself or what remained of 1st Fleet for what now seemed to be a doomed battle against a numerically superior enemy with a superior position.
Korep had no choice. He ordered a full retreat.


FCS Warspite


The Cardassian fleet was now fleeing, but Johnston wasn't going to let them get away unharmed. Fire was maintained and the lighter warships actively pursued Cardassian vessels until the moment they went to warp.
Had the fleets been larger, the casualties on the Cardassian side might have been greater proportionally; the retreat was unorganized and would've suffered far more as ships plowed into one another or, at the very least, lacked the maneuvering room to evade enemy fire. Instead the Cardassians had plenty of room to maneuver in their escape.
One by one the Cardassian ships elongated and disappeared at the jump to warp, even as torpedoes and energy weapon fire lashed out at them. Johnston was a bit surprised to see the Cardassians break this quickly. He had expected a longer fight. Clearly intelligence was underestimating Cardassian morale problems.
"They're running! The alien bastards are running!" The shouts from the crew were ecstatic, and Johnston gave them that benefit as the last enemy ships still capable of a fight fled the system. Work went to pick off stragglers and to prepare for S&R missions.
In his mind, Admiral Johnston considered the talley. Out of 114 Commonwealth ships to enter the battle, about twenty had been outright destroyed and another ten badly damaged or crippled. A number of the other ships were damaged to various extents, some severely. All things considered, he still had two-thirds of his fleet capable of combat operation. The Cardassians had engaged with ninety and had lost just over half that number; forty-two Cardassian ships had escaped the system successfully. Materially, this wasn't anything like the massive fleet collisions seen so far in the war, but it still had a unique claim to history and it had been a well-fought victory.
Johnston allowed himself a small grin and activated his comms, having his comm officer feed him to the rest of the fleet. "Attention all ships, this is Admiral Johnston. My congratulations to you today, as you have won your nation's first great naval engagement in centuries and it's first outside of the Inner Sphere. You have taken part in history, gentlemen. You will keep this memory with you for the rest of your lives."

[Steve]

Madred Village 23, Dervak, Cardassian Union
04:42 GST


Kercil kept his rifle close as a column of Cardassians moved ever closer to the command post of the village. A couple of hours of fighting had seen a number of deaths on their side, though the Cardassians were momentarily focusing on seizing the center of the village and isolating pockets of resistance to be annihilated later.
As he sat and waited for the inevitable fight, Kercil noticed a man in black walk up and sit down next to him, a sidearm in one hand and a book in the other. "Calm down, son," he said, as if noticing Kercil's tension. "Unless you want to pray, there's nothing else you can do for the moment."
"Cardassians do not pray."
"A pity. I've found that prayer helps keep your spirit up in bad situations like this." The man extended a hand. "I am Father Ignazio."
Kercil looked at him for a moment before taking his hand. "Delim Kercil."
"You've done the right thing, son. Remember that before you let your guilt about having to kill destroy you."
"I'm guilty of far worse things than killing," Kercil replied. "I've watched and aided in doing things to other people that my parents once suffered. I willingly served the Cardassian State that tortured and murdered them."
"Ah." Ignazio nodded at that. "Well, son, for those who do wrong, there is always forgiveness."
"My crimes, the crimes of Cardassia, can never be forgiven."
"That young Bajoran woman seems to have different ideas."
Kercil looked away. "Imina... She's always seen good in me that I can't."
"Maybe that's because you're letting your guilt blind you, son. There's no such thing as a man of pure evil or pure good. We're all born sinners and have the choice of struggling against our bad nature."
There were sounds from outside that drew Kercil's attention. He pulled his weapon up and walked to the door to see a firefight had broken out in the village commons. Edward and his people were hiding behind the barricades they had set up, returning fire where possible.
As Kercil stepped out he immediately came under fire. One hit struck his leg, another his shoulder, and he dropped to a knee in pain. At that point there was another flash of energy from a Cardassian rifle and a sharp impact on his back. Kercil rolled forward, and when he regained his bearings he was quite horrified to see Father Ignazio laying upon the ground, his chest blackened by a direct hit. He was rasping for air when Kercil scrambled over to him, ignoring his own pain. "Why?!"
"Because.... it is my duty to save lost souls. Remember, son, you can always find forgiveness," was the older Human's pained reply. With his final breath he wheezed, "Always...." His eyes looked upward and Ignazio became silent.
I didn't deserve that! Kercil twisted around, looking at the sky in anguish and grief. His eyes met an object in the sky - a shuttle, he decided, and he followed it even as it seemed to grow larger...


Christine had not yet hit a single target. As she stayed with the others in their little cut-off alley, hiding behind hastily-constructed barricades, Christine tried and failed to control her beating heart and cold sweat. She was thoroughly terrified and could barely speak.
They had been joined with nearly five others, and none had died yet; Carter had been wounded in the shoulder and was being tended to by Kristina while the others kept up fire. The Cardassians didn't seem interested in killing them yet, and reports over the radio made it clear they were heading to the center of town. But Christine knew they would come soon, and she would die. She didn't want to die, despite all that had happened. Like many, she clung to the hope that alive, her life would become better, and so she was afraid of losing that.
And then there was a terrible roar! Frightened and excited, Christine looked about desperately, trying to think of what was making that terrifying sound. It grew louder, and louder, and louder...
Christine looked up to follow the sound and stared at the egg-shaped craft overhead as it came close to the nearby park area. Bright energy erupted from it's hull, spearing Cardassian troops around it's chosen landing sight. All watched and stared at the craft, with it's black wolf head insignia set on red, complete with fangs dripping with blood.
Doors opened on the craft and an unexpected sight came. "What in the hell?" Christine heard Kristina say as they watched the armored walking machines disembark their craft.