TGG: A War Like No Other, "The Thundering of Guns"

[fb111a]

I can only say WOW.

That puts it mildly.

I'm hoping this also means more Federation Civil War...

[Steve]

New Liberty System Defense Command, Wexford, New Liberty
New Liberty Republic, Alliance Colonial Zone
24 April 2160 AST


President Anson was still in Defense Command after the battle actually ceased, choosing to stay in case another wave came in and to give the public assurance that he was staying on the job. The system's Civil Defense Alert status had been downgraded from Red to Orange, signifying to the citizenry that they could leave the underground bunkers but that a protective curfew was still in effect. Downgrading to Yellow would probably happen when the Navy could guarantee the Dominion wasn't coming back and would permit the system to resume day-to-day living (if at heightened alert levels, with extra security and civil defense bunkers being at full readiness).
The crisis wasn't yet over anyhow. There were over a thousand vessels in orbit that had been destroyed or crippled in some way, creating a navigation hazard around the Gate Assembly. The parts of it that were still functioning anyway. Between needing to take potentially damaged reactors offline and outright battle damage, the Assembly was down to under a third of its normal capacity. This was a nightmare for the New Liberty Republic and its neighbors. The loss of so much Gate capacity would have a terrible effect upon commerce between ST-3 and the rest of the Multiverse, a commerce that fueled a sizable portion of the Republic's economy. Even the Gates still in operation would likely be devoted mostly to military traffic in the coming days. While no one would likely starve - the Colonial Zone had achieved food self-sufficiency four years before - the loss of access to manufactured goods not made in the Zone and the slowing of traffic was an economic catastrophe in the making.
Militarily the cost of the battle had been high. The list of ships confirmed destroyed or crippled was still growing two hours after the battle was over. 5th Fleet had suffered substantially by the preliminary reports, losing about two fifths of its combat capability. Somewhere in the neighborhood of four hundred fighters of varying types were damaged or lost. Thankfully New Liberty Station had taken no damage, having been far enough from the main battle that the handful of attacks on them had been absorbed by their deflectors. And among the shattered shells of warships in far orbit were hundreds of thousands of dead and wounded naval personnel who's care was going to stretch out New Liberty's medical resources until more hospital ships could arrive.

"Mister President." An Aerospace Force Warrant Officer looked up from her station. "I have President Mamatmas for you."
The Englishman straightened his collar a bit and stood still as the President of the Alliance's image appeared on the main secondary viewer. Unlike Anson Mamatmas' hair was fully gray with a beard and mustache of matching color, compared to Anson's dark brown hair and clean-shaven face. It wasn't often Anson got to speak with the President, their conversations having picked up in the past year thanks to the arrival of the Dominion to the Alpha Quadrant and then the outbreak of the war, and there were times Anson wondered if he would ever get a crack at that high office.
But political ambition was the furthest thing from Anson's mind at the moment. "Mister President, sir, I take it you've heard the latest reports."
"I have, President Anson. I'm calling to assure you that further reinforcement for New Liberty and its sister worlds is being rushed into ST-3 as fast as it can be arranged.."
"With all due respect, Mister President, it's not just the military situation that concerns me. Economic activity here has come to an utter standstill and with the Assembly closed off, I'm afraid that we face economic ruin."
"We'll see what we can do for you on that end too but it will come in due time, President Anson. As it is, we are now at war with the Cardassians and Dominion and measures must be taken accordingly. I trust you've activated your militia services?"
"Yes, I have."
"Good. We'll probably be needing those troops very soon. Good luck out there, President Anson. We're doing everything we can for you. Good day." Mamatmas hit a key from his end and the call terminated.

Anson ran a hand through his hair nervously. Everything seemed to be going wrong on him now, and he had a re-election campaign coming. The slightest missteps could ruin his hopes for re-election at the end of the year. His entire political career, not to mention the prosperity of the Colonial Zone, hinged on making the right decisions right now.





USS Defiant, Rokorav System
Cardassian Space


The hours-long pursuit was at an end as the Cardassian fleet finally came out of warp at their Rokorav base. Sisko's fleet came right on their heels and immediately began firing at them.
The pursuit itself had seen the Cardassian fleet whittled down. Stragglers suffering engine problems and falling behind had been picked off easily by Sisko's ships. And at the border of Alliance and Cardassian territory the Cardassians had run into an ambush by Alliance stealth strike ships, enduring multiple torpedo barrages that cost them another sixty ships before they moved out of range. Now was the time for the coup d'grace.
The Federation and Klingon forces fell upon the Cardassian fleet with a vengeance. The Defiant led the way, weaving around weapons fire from the Cardassians to severely punish any of their number that entered Worf's sights. Still relatively fresh compared to the Cardassians, Sisko's forces were taking a toll on their battle-damaged ships, exploiting the work already started by Alliance particle cannons and coilguns.
At Sisko's order two of the Klingon attack cruisers and a wing of five Akira-class torpedo cruisers, led by the USS Sentinel, broke off from the main engagement and focused their fury on the Rokorav Fleet Base. The Base's shields held under the initial assault but the intense fire of powerful Klingon disruptors and quantum torpedo barrages from the Sentinel and her sisters were showing their toll.

The Cardassians rallied. Their formation solidified and their weapons began to take their toll on Sisko's forces. The Defiant rocked from a direct hit. "Shields at sixty percent!", Dax called out.
"Bring the Klingons around for a pass on their flank, Old Man."
The Klingon fleet responded to the order, maneuvering to disrupt the Cardassian flank before it solidified. Sisko watched the progress from his tactica viewer and his expression grew increasingly sour as he saw that the Cardassians were proving impossible to shake up. Even dead, Dukat's leadership and training were still showing in his subordinates.
"Captain, receiving subspace signal from Admiral Ross." Nog turned in his chair. "The Cardassian jamming is preventing me from getting audio or visual, but the text of the message came through. Enemy forces in the sectors around Bajor have begun moving toward Deep Space Nine. We're being recalled to shore up defenses."
Sisko frowned sharply. He felt the chance for another quick victory, devastating to the Dominion and Cardassians, slip away. A few more minutes and the Rokorav base might have fallen, but every minute delayed put DS9 in more danger.
"Send to all ships. Come about and engage, on course back to DS9," he grumbled. The bridge crew knew better than to give any reaction save affirmation of the order.



The White House, Washington D.C., Earth
Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
25 April 2160 AST


As news of the battle had spread, the Alliance capital had become the epicenter of the reaction. Members of the Alliance Council used every contact they had to discover what was going on, officials of the Administration either received direction or tried to find what was needed of their departments, the press was looking everywhere for a reaction, all while the military planners briefed the President, the Chancellor, and other key members of the Government while enacting their own long-standing plans.
With his conversations with the national leadership of the governments present in the Colonial Zone, Nicolas Mamatmas joined an emergency session of the Alliance Security Committee. Umachov, Dale, Bronson, Becker, and MacKenzie were joined by Fleet Admiral Simonov, Chairman of the Strategic Planning Staff, and Samuel White Eagle, the Director of Alliance Intelligence.
"Clean up at New Liberty will take days," Simonov was explaining to the assembled. "Our losses are now tallied to at least thirteen hundred ships destroyed or crippled, another fifteen hundred heavily damaged. 5th Fleet suffered the most and will require immediate reinforcement. The Gates are little better. An IUCEC team will have to verify but our local experts believe that no more than a third of the gates are safe to operate at this time. Repairs will take months."
MacKenzie asked, "Our GateShip fleet?"
"Given their inability to be in constant operation they will not be able to make up for the lost capacity. We will have to ship material from New Ivers," Simonov answered.

"We'll make whatever arrangements we have to," Mamatmas answered. "I'll address the Council tomorrow on the situation." Looking at them all somberly, he added, "I plan to be introducing a declaration of war immediately afterward."
The replies consisted of silent, grim nods. There was no opposition to be had now. The Dominion and Cardassians had directly attacked them without a single act of provocation, without even a threat from the ADN government. The blood of Alliance citizens had been spilled in Alliance space. The populace would expect a declaration of war. For those assembled and likely for many in the Council, it would be a mere formality, an act of legality and ceremony to reflect the existing reality that anyone looking at footage from New Liberty knew about.
"The attack has rendered moot most of our war plans," Simonov stated, "but the Staff did draw up contingencies for defensive operations in the Zone in the event of a successful attack on the Assembly. The order to enact initial measures for them was sent to Field Marshal Hiller before I came to this meeting."
"What do we have in mind for reinforcing 5th Fleet?", Mamatmas asked.
"Elements of several fleets were brought in by the Assembly for the battle and will, for the moment, be kept on hand. Chief Admiral Darlington has set into motion taking these contingents and reinforcing 5th Fleet with them as well as reconstituting 10th Fleet." Dale looked up from his PDA, bearing the reports from Darlington and the Stellar Navy's senior leadership. "We've been holding a provisional 18th Fleet in reserve, made up primarily of newly-formed squadrons not yet assigned to task forces, that could be assigned as well, but with the Assembly so messed up moving them to New Liberty directly may not be feasible. In fact..." Dale put his hands together. "I'd recommend talking to the Federation and sending 18th Fleet through their territory. It could help them with sweeping out any remnant Cardassian and Dominion forces in their territory. With Dukat's pullout to man this attack the entire Cardassian-Dominion position in Federation space has collapsed and all that space is ripe to be liberated."

"And if Starfleet wants 18th Fleet assigned to an overall Starfleet commander?", Simonov asked pointedly. It needn't be said that the Stellar Navy wasn't enthused with giving what they considered a rather inferior service any kind of authority over a substantial force of Alliance warships.
"They're our allies now," Dale pointed out, "and we'll need their space to keep the Colonial Zone functioning until the Gate Assembly can get restored. I see no problem with giving Starfleet strategic authority over 18th Fleet if it's going to operate in their space anyway. If they do anything outrageous then we can reconsider."
Simonov was still glowering. "I suppose you'd do the same for forces from the other services assigned to Federation territories," Becker asked.
"Only proper," MacKenzie said, agreeing with Dale. "As much as we've grown to mistrust the Federation on some issues they're not going to bite the hand that feeds them."
"And once we can commence offensive operations we can hammer out command issues with Starfleet and the Klingons then," Dale added.
It was clear neither of the military officers were enthused with the prospect. Umachov gave an agreeing nod, however, and any consideration of further opposition was rendered moot when Mamatmas spoke up. "I have to agree. They're our allies now and we're going to treat them as such. Robert, I'm leaving it up to you to commence talks with the Federation and the Klingons on setting up whatever we need for a workable command structure. Depending on what Kelos and Talar do we'll even integrate what's left of the JCA into it." Mamatmas stood in his chair. "Thank you, gentlemen and ladies, for your time. We'll meet again tomorrow after I see the Council to see how the situation changes."




CDS Draxar, Hagarak System
Cardassian Union


The news had arrived a short time ago that Gul Dukat had been killed in his attack on the Alliance Gate Assembly at New Liberty and now the crew of the Draxar and the entirety of the Talarian Frontier Fleet had learned that there was shooting going on around Cardassia between the Jem'Hadar and their fellow Cardassians. Dominion broadcasts from the Vorta claimed that Dukat and the Founder had been "betrayed" by agents of the Alliance-puppets of the "Free" Republic. Fleet messages were less certain of anything save that the Cardassian fleet had been the first to retreat from the battle and that the Vorta were not too pleased by such.
There was immediate consternation at the idea that the Dominion had turned on them. Though suspicious of the Gamma Quadrant's hegemon the Cardassian officer corps had generally embraced them as an ally to avenge their humiliation against the Alliance and Klingons. There was always some discomfort about them, especially when Dukat took measures that effectively began replicating aspects of the Obsidian Order that the Cardassians were just getting used to not dealing with any longer, but Dukat was their hero and they firmly believed he knew what he was doing.
But without Dukat, what was going to happen now? These thoughts plagued 3rd Rank Gul Krucet as he was undertaking one of his bridge watches on his flagship, waiting for further reports....

"Gul, we are receiving a message from Central Command," the Glin at Communications reported. "The Frontier Fleet is being ordered to prepare for a full attack on the Talarian bases in the Ulithra Sector in accordance with War Plan Green."
"Have the Tsen'kethi or Breen begun their own movements?" Krucet was aware of the elements of War Plan Green, the Central Command's plan for an all-out war between the Rovelek Pact - Cardassia, the Tsen'kethi, and the Breen - and the Rochester Pact - the Alliance, Talar, Kelos, and at one time the other extrauniversal Humans, the Federated Commonwealth. Under that plan his force was to commence immediate offensive operations against the Talarian Steadhold with Breen and Tsen'kethi assistance, aiming to subjugate the Talarians before Alliance forces could feasibly come to their aid. But cutbacks to the Talarian Frontier Fleet to fill out the fleets facing the Klingons and the Federation had reduced his strength, down to 350 vessels. The Talarians could be expected to field three times that overall.
"Not according to this message nor our latest reports," was the answer, not what Krucet wanted to hear.
Glowering, Krucet drew in a sigh and remarked, "Then we will have to make up for lack of force with speed. Order our Strike Groups to subdivide as needed, we will use hit-and-run attacks until reinforcements come. Prepare..."
"Gul! Border posts reporting massive warp signatures on attack vectors into Cardassian territory! Alliance and Talarian ships on the move!"
"Forget what I said before, order all Strike Groups to prepare for intercept! We must preserve our positions in this sector!" Krucet felt his heart race as his ship went to combat alert. After months his "quiet little sector" was now in the thick of the war.
A war that, deep down, he knew they might not win.

[Steve]

The Capitol, Washington D.C., Earth
Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1


The mood in the Council Chambers was somber as Mamatmas addressed the Council directly. He informed them of the preliminary findings from the battle scene at New Liberty, the casualty estimates, the military's plans for a reaction, their allies' reactions, and of other matters of import. During the session an update permitted him to inform them that the Talarians had launched an attack on Cardassian forces along their common border, fulfilling their obligations under the Rochester Pact.
Now he came to his conclusion. "I did not come here today to ask you, honored Council Representatives, to start a war. That is unnecessary. That war has already begun. The blood of our people has already been spilled.... spilled by a foreign aggressor seeking hegemony upon the bent backs and broken spirits of their neighbors. What I ask you to do is to announce to our enemies and our friends that we accept the war we have been thrust into and will prosecute it until those who have attacked us have been defeated."
"I ask this Council to vote upon and pass a resolution confirming that the Alliance is in a state of war with the Cardassian Union and the Dominion."

Chancellor MacKenzie took her place above Mamatmas at the Chancellor's position of the Council Chamber. "We shall vote for the President's resolution by affirmation vote."
Among the crowd two figures stood. They were clearly visible to all as Johann Tetzel and Gabrielle Dupont, the two Pax Party representatives upon the Council. "Madame Chancellor, I move to lay this resolution on the table. The President and the military establishment are trying to drag us into a war without bothering to attempt diplomatic..."
In the best of times Tetzel's radical pacifism was tolerated by his peers on the Council. They permitted him some leeway, seeing his various hardcore positions as tools in their own struggles over desired legislation. But today there was no mood for this. The assembled Council Representatives shouted points of order to the extent it became a cacophany of "Order!" and "Sit down!"
"I second Representative Tetzel!", Dupont declared, standing beside her party leader. "We must give time for diplomacy to...."
"Representatives, you will be seated," MacKenzie announced from her place, hammering her gavel away to restore order. "I see no purpose in trying to lay this resolution on the table given the circumstances, it will merely be duplicating a vote. All in fav...."
"May whatever God lives help you, Madame Chancellor, for your part in the bloodshed to come," Tetzel shot back, unwilling to let the matter pass without getting off a parting shot.
MacKenzie paid him no heed and called for the vote on the resolution. The tally came swiftly: 97-2 in favor of, the two dissenters being Tetzel and Dupont of course.

The announcement soon spread through the Multiverse: the Alliance of Democratic Nations had declared war on the Cardassians and the Dominion. For all that some pundits would consider it the equivalent of closing the barn door after the horse had gotten out, it was an electrifying moment. In ST-3 the declaration of war prompted celebrations in much of the Federation and the hearty approval of the Klingons. Ambassador Parmika and his staff would later comment that it was the first time they could recall where a crowd around the Alliance Embassy was not composed of anti-Alliance activists but of Federation citizens jubilantly flying the torch-and-stars.
A far different reaction was to be seen in Universe CON-5, however...

[Steve]

Some slight apology for the mini-update, but I realized that the next update was going to be stupendously big and that this scene would work as a quick update (and, heh, bump) as I finish the next segment.

Now excuse me, I must go play some writing mood music....

*cues Holst's "Mars"*

[Master_Baerne]

CON-5 has Taloran colonies, right? I wonder what their opinion of the coming war will be.

[Steve]

CON-5 has Taloran colonies, right? I wonder what their opinion of the coming war will be.

I can't remember when Marina said the first contact would be. I know Chris said the HRE is around in CON-5 as of this time but has remained highly isolationist and secluded and will only come out of its shell in the war years.

[lord Martiya]

OK, question: how much stupid Tetzel and Dupont were? The Alliance was required to enter war by a treaty violated, and even before the Congress could vote they were attacked without provocation, and they talk of diplomacy?! I can't recall even the Federation doing something like that...

[Steve]

As I said on SB, Tetzel and his movement are the ADN counterparts to Deborah Miller and PAPAL in the Federation. Just, well, without the ability to influence policy that deeply.

Anyway, if anyone remembers the Council session from "What Price Peace?", it reveals what Tetzel's own voters thought of that stunt.

[Steve]

Bishop's Estate, City of New Plymouth, New Plymouth
New Plymouth Colony
Universe Designate CON-5
26 April 2160 AST


The news spread quickly as the Alliance's declaration of war was announced over the news networks. The people of New Plymouth did not celebrate or generally react in any way. They despised the Alliance, true, but they had little love for the equally-atheist Cardassians or for the Dominion, whom it was said were ruled by beings who proclaimed themselves Gods. For the average Plymouthite they were all equally damned and could burn in hellfire for all they cared.
But for the higher echelon of the Church and Government, the Alliance entry into the war in ST-3 had opened a question. Very few in the senior leadership of the government had learned of Harold Smith's journey to Cardassia Prime half a year before, or of its result. Few knew of the Anti-ADN Pact that now bound their nation to go to war with the Alliance, or more accurately, to resume the war suspended four years before in ceasefire after the Alliance had entered Plymouth's decades' long conflict with Lisea.
Two more individuals had now been informed of the Pact. High Admiral Steven Pronai, commander of the Grand Fleet and Plymouth's senior naval commander, sat in silent shock while George Stone, the Speaker of the Synod, seemed to turn a shade of red on his face. He directed his glare at his leader, Presiding Bishop Hanson Leewood, and at Leewood's right hand men, Secretary Robert Keller of the Foreign Office and Jacob Willers, Chief of the Colony Security and Intelligence Office. The former had been the one to suggest the Smith Mission to Cardassia and was one of Leewood's most devoted followers, the latter was the shady character in charge of Plymouth's effective intelligence and internal security service, a cruel and vindictive man feared by the liberal factions of the Church whom he fully intended to violently purge from the Church body when the time came.
"Bishop Leewood, you had an obligation to put this Pact before the Synod for ratification!", Stone rasped. "I daresay it has no legal standing whatsoever!"

Keller frowned. Willers seem non-plussed. Leewood's response was to look Stone straight in the eye. "You know it is the perogative of my office to negotiate in secret to maintain security, especially under the War Powers Decision of '26. That act of the Synod specified a wide range of powers for the Bishop of the Church to wield without consulting the Synod if the security of the Colony and the Church is at risk. Negotiating with two of the Alliance's most virulent enemies from a different cosmos is certainly something we could not permit to become open knowledge."
Stone went to speak, but stopped himself. Leewood was damned right. The 2826 War Powers Decision had been passed by the Synod to grant the Presiding Bishop wide powers to prosecute the war with Lisea when it became clear that the war would not end quickly. That war had not yet ended, it had only been suspended by ceasefire after the Alliance's entry tilted the balance.
The Alliance entry into that war was deemed the greatest setback the Colony had suffered in two centuries. They had been on the verge of a final crushing victory over Lisea, forcing that republic to the negotiating table and opening the prospect of bringing it into their informal empire as a tributary state or, at the very least, severing a substantial swath of territory from it and requiring disarmament that would leave their frontier - and local tributary allies - secure for decades. Instead they were left with an unresolved war, an economy beginning to falter from twenty years of war production, and Lisea backed by an enormously powerful ally that posed a grave threat to Plymouth and its empire. This in turn had prompted the intervention in crumbling Devenshire to secure industrial resources, the collapse of that state, and the sequence of events that led up to the Treaty of Westminster and the newfound hostility of the British Empire and states aligned with them.

To this day there was harsh debate amongst the elite of New Plymouth about whether their aggressive behavior toward the Alliance had caused this. The argument was solid; had New Plymouth been less dogmatic about forbidding neutral shipping to Lisea, the Alliance would never have had casus belli to get involved in the war. Lisea was weakened by the war and would have fallen even with access to Alliance materials.
The only place the debate was not to be found was among the inner circle. Leewood refused to countenance the idea. It was no surprise to one that considered he had advocated every harsh step, every rebuking of Alliance negotiation offers, he had even opposed the ceasefire, a very solitary position at the time but one that seemed more acceptable as the moderate government of Tom Mather failed to win any concessions at the Westminster talks. Scandal erupted when the British and Alliance had hammered through terms that would keep Devenshire intact and require Denerios' complete independence, denying the Chinese claim on Ganzhou and Plymouth's intention to place protectorates over their occupied sections of Devenshire and "liberated" Denerios, prompting the fall of Mather's government and a walkout of the talks by Plymouth and China.
It was soon clear to many that the Alliance, with British collusion, was seeking to box in New Plymouth and to permit it to begin tempting the tributary allies away, the very thing Plymouth had gone to war with Lisea to prevent. For a short time Marcus Dather, the High Admiral and war hero, had held the Bishop's seat, but his poor health and the stress of the position was too much.
But the loss of Dather and the blow to his political supporters in the traditional conservative factions had been Leewood's gain. Leewood exploited the deadlock in the Synod to find Dather's replacement to gain it for himself and had immediately embarked upon a course for war. All offers of negotiation were rejected. Instead of agreeing to preliminaries for talks for either a permanent armistice or a ceasefire with the Alliance and Lisea Leewood had only agreed to renew the ceasefire when the quarterly periods ran out. Every quarter year that passed, after all, brought more ships into Plymouth's fleet and made them more ready for war.
A war Leewood now intended to renew.

"I have spoken to Ambassador Zhu," Keller said. "Though he does not yet have instructions from his government relating to the Alliance going to war in ST-3, he believes that the Premier will support a war if you agree to focus on Devenshire."
"If we go after Devenshire we will be at war with Britain and all of their treaty allies," Pronai pointed out. "I do not mind combat against the Alliance Navy or the Royal Navy, but at the same time? Even with our force strength as it is now, that is a dangerous prospect, Presiding Bishop."
"And what would you have me do, Admiral?", Leewood asked. "By the terms of the Pact I am obligated to make war on the Alliance now and to do so with all of the allies at my disposal."
"If we merely dissolve the ceasefire with the Alliance, then we can focus upon them and Lisea," Pronai argued. "Leave Devenshire for later."
"And alienate our only other major ally while leaving our flank exposed to the British?", Keller scoffed. "China will not go to war unless it involves expanding their zone in Devenshire and forcing Minerva and Driscova to permanently cede all claim to Ganzhou and its province."
"Bishop, if we go to war with Britain we will have to dispatch forces to cover our borders with the Amerindians and Scathford," Stone spoke up. "You will stretch our forces further out!"

"Or we can quickly swamp those meddlesome states and force them into tributary status as we should have done centuries ago," Willers responded. "The British will be too busy holding their long frontier with the Chinese and their positions in Devenshire to reinforce Scathford and the Amerindians and the Alliance, well, between Devenshire, Lisea, their own space, and the war in ST-3 they will not be able to help either. Within months we will have those states under control and paying us tribute so we can focus on greater prizes."
"The purpose of this war is a holy one," Leewood insisted. "It is to rid our universe of the atheist Alliance and their corrupting, hedonistic ways. At the earliest opportunity we must strike at their gates just as our Dominion allies did."

"In due time, Bishop, first we must secure our frontiers," Pronai pointed out. "Even with the Chinese on our side the Royal Navy is a grave threat to our positions in Devenshire. And the combined forces of the Alliance and Lisea..."
"Will be dealt with first, yes," Leewood agreed. "In the meantime, I will address the Synod. Secretary Keller, prepare the official statement. We consider the Alliance and Lisea as having broken the good faith clause of the ceasefire for failing to negotiate a permanent peace. They have three days to agree to talks based upon the demilitarization of the Millerton Salient and cession of the Palio Cluster or we shall terminate the ceasefire and resume hostilities. And you may inform Ambassador Zhu that I am ready to agree to a joint demand to the government of Devenshire for accepting all territorial claims."
Keller nodded in affirmation and walked off to fulfill his leader's commands. Pronai stood as well. "Permission to be dismissed, Bishop, I must go prepare the Grand Fleet and send out alert messages to our Fleet Commands."
"Permission granted, Admiral," Leewood agreed. He also nodded to Willers, who wordlessly left with the High Admiral. This left him alone with Stone. The Speaker leveled an intense stare at him, which Leewood answered with an intent look of his own. "Mister Speaker?"
"I pray to God that you know what you're doing, Bishop. You are going to turn the universe against us if you are not careful," Stone warned.
At that Leewood showed a content expression, almost a smile. "Mister Speaker, I am merely a servant doing my Lord's will. I know that with Him at our side we will see absolute victory."




Palace, Royal City, Devenshire
Kingdom of the Devenshires
27 April 2160 AST



The note was sitting on the table between Alexandria Driscova, Prime Minister of the Kingdom, and her cousin and sovereign, Queen Minerva. The Queen of the Devenshires, not even to the second full year of her reign in the restored, partially-occupied Kingdom, was frowning deeply after having read it. "So it will be war, cousin?"
Alexandria nodded stiffly. "I'm sorry, Minerva, but yes, it will be war." She watched the Prince Consort, Archduke Friedrich of Austro-Bavaria, gently put a hand on his wife's shoulder. Minerva's face betrayed her sadness and frustration with the situation. "I have already begun initial preperations for readying our military. We're still quite short of our goal for self-defense but Ambassador Trumble has assured me that Britain will stand with us. I would, admittedly, feel better about our chances if the Alliance were not now embroiled in that other universe's war as well..."

"That brute Leewood undoubtedly has sought to take advantage of their distraction," Freidrich remarked. Seeing his wife's fear he moved his arm to hold her close. "But even so, with all of the allies pledged to our aid, do not worry. The fight might be long and hard but I believe we will emerge victorious."
"We've barely begun to recover from the Fall," Minerva said quietly. "There are still so many former slaves with poor housing, no jobs, little education. Must I send them and their children to die too?"
"I would not ask you to if I did not believe it necessary," Driscova assured her. "But we have no choice. Demanding we recognize the territories they seized during the fall is one thing but also insisting on cession of bordering systems and demilitarization on our side of the border? No country can accept terms like this."
"It seems to me that war is what Leewood wants." Friedrich brushed a tear from Minerva's cheek.
"And... it is what he will get," she said, her voice sounding shaky. Inwardly her heart threatened to stop beating and her stomach felt sick. All she'd wanted was peace, to finally restore her father's nation and redeem her mother's people, to redeem all the others wronged by the Devenshires over the centuries. Instead it would be the fate of Queen Minerva and her subjects to have their dreams dashed by the ambitions of others. "God forgive us all."




The White House, Washington D.C., Earth
Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
28 April 2160 AST


The screen in the Oval Office showed the image of a moon-faced woman with flowing dark brown hair. After hours of setting things up between their respective staff members, Mamatmas was finally in conversation with Lisea's President Gabrielle Newson by her request, the subject matter being Leewood threatening to withdraw from the ceasefire if the Alliance and Lisea did not agree to talks that conceded territorial demands from Plymouth as a pre-condition. "We're going on a war alert, Mister President," Newson informed him. "Thanks to the four years of peace we've recovered quite a bit from our dire situation as it was when you entered the war. But I hope to God that Leewood's bluffing."
"Unfortunately, Madame President, I don't think he is," Mamatmas answered. "He's seeing an opportunity here that he intends to take. We'll do everything in our power to support you as much as we can, but 8th Fleet is going to be spread thin. And we're still sorting out what we can send where due to the outbreak of war in ST-3."
"I've already told the Joint Chiefs that we can't expect full aid from you for a while, not with everything else you'll be concerned with. But I hope it doesn't take long... our people are tired of war, President Mamatmas. We've had a few groups over the past years starting to agitate for signing a permanent peace with Leewood, even if it means major concessions, simply because of the trouble we've had economically and all the loss of life from the fighting. If I'm to keep Lisea united and in action I'm going to need help convincing our population that this won't drag on forever anymore, that there is an end in sight."
Mamatmas nodded with sympathy. "I understand, Madame President. The Alliance will not abandon Lisea, I assure you. And if Leewood wants to go this route, we will fight this war to total victory."
"What about the British? With the threats to Devenshire I know they'll be brought in too, but how do I know they won't end up making peace if the going gets too rough, leaving us all to face Leewood alone?"

That, of course, was the million dollar question in Washington as well. Umachov was of the opinion that the British would make peace short of total victory if Leewood and Premier Zheng offered suitable concessions and, something of a rarity around Washington, Chancellor MacKenzie completely concurred. Mamatmas himself had been unable to get Ambassador Shropshire to commit to any minimal requirements for peace with Plymouth although the Ambassador, and Prime Minister Grant himself through personal communiquès, had on multiple occasions assured Mamatmas that Britain would accept an reciprocal agreement to not pursue a separate peace without consultation with other allies first.
"I can't give you any guarantees about the British, President Newson, but I can assure you that the Alliance will not make peace without full participation of our allies. And I can assure you that I'm doing everything in my power to get a firm British commitment to a unified war effort in the event Leewood triggers a wider conflict."
That brought a nod from Newson. "That's what I expected to hear, Mister President. Thank you. I'll be praying tonight that something happens and we don't end up back in a war tomorrow."
"I'll be doing the same, Madame President. Good night." Mamatmas watched her image disappear. He took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and rubbed at his eyes. Sleep was hard enough with the stress of his work but the past week had been particularly grueling. He was down to barely four hours of sleep a night, busy with the daily affairs of state as well as the extraordinary affairs brought on by being at war and reading memos on the defense budget, force dispositions and movement, the activation of reservists, et cetera.

Mamatmas reached over and keyed his intercom. "Ms. Henley, you can have Mister Douglas and his people come in now." He barely heard his secretary's reply as he stifled a yawn, rubbed his eyes again, and awaited the arrival of his speechwriting staff.
With the situation being what it was, tomorrow Mamatmas was going to address the Council again, this time to ask them to do what had not yet been attempted in nearly 16 years of existance for the Alliance; to order total mobilization of the Alliance's population, industry, and economy for war. Though the 2150s had seen their share of conflicts for the Alliance, none had yet seen the Alliance government take such measures. Nobody was sure of what such measures might mean for the Alliance as a whole, whether they might spur discontent from various populations toward the Alliance or encourage the growth of a common "Alliance" identity from the populace from a sense of common burden and effort.
But there was no choice; to fight on so many fronts, in two separate universes, would require everyone to pull together. And as the hours ticked away toward Leewood's ultimatum, Mamatmas knew this was where they were heading.



402 Queen Elizabeth Street, New London
New Britain, Kingdom of New Britain
Universe Designate CON-5


It was growing late in the city of New London as the leaders of the Conservative government met to discuss the unfolding crisis. Sir Alexander Grant, the Prime Minister, sat at the head of the table, flanked by the Foreign Secretary, Lady Katherine Sheffield, and the Minister of War, Sir Winston Summers. The First Lord of the Admiralty, Gregory Temple, sat down from Summers, while the Right Honourable Andrew MacIntyre, Speaker of the Commons, was beside Sheffield.
"Ambassador Trumble has confirmed that Driscova intends to reject Leewood's ultimatum tomorrow, after his deadline to Lisea and the Alliance passes," Sheffield stated. "Devenshire's forces are going on alert as we speak."
"Any response from Ambassador Little?"
Sheffield frowned. "The Plymouthite Ambassador has refused all calls from my offices. Just as well, Ambassador Zue's secretary and Charge d'Affairs continue to insist that the Ambassador is in high level meetings and cannot be disturbed."
Grant's expression was grim with anxiety as he made his next question. "And Ambassador Soulice?"
He relaxed slightly at Sheffield's lighter expression. "The French Ambassador insists that the Bonaparte dynasty is committed to continued peaceful relations and will not support the Plymouthite effort against Devenshire or the Alliance."

"Thank heavens for small favors," Summers muttered.
"The French are just going to sit and wait to see which side will give them the most benefit," Temple pointed out. "It does them no good to go to war on Leewood's behalf right now."
"Nevertheless their neutrality is nothing short of divine providence," Grant remarked. The red-haired Scotsman took the cigar from his ashtry and puffed at it. "Time is of the essence. Unless Leewood is bluffing..."
"Highly doubtful," a dour Sheffield remarked.
Ignoring the interruption, Grant continued. "Unless he is bluffing, he will be at war with Devenshire by the end of the month. And our obligations are clear. Sir Winston, begin sending the orders. Mister Speaker, I need to address Parliament tomorrow. I shall be asking for them to grant emergency War Powers to the Government."
MacIntyre drew in a sigh. "The Liberals will not let such pass easily, sir. They've already accused us of bungling negotiations with China and of insufficient preparations, giving the Government War Powers before a declaration of war will be hard to extract from them."
Grant nodded stiffly. "I shall call MP Townsend and see what I must do to convince the Liberals to sign on."
"Even if they demand a Coalition government?"

"Yes." He took another drag from the cigar before continuing. "I think it is clear that within days we shall be at war, a war the like of which our galaxy has not seen since Terra's Fall. And we cannot rely strongly upon the Alliance because of the war they face in the ST-3 Universe. Our nation, the Empire as a whole, must be firmly unified if we are to see the war to come through to victory."
There were nods from the assembled. "I will contact Mrs. Townsend and the senior Liberals to meet you tomorrow, Prime Minister, before the Parliament convenes."
"If you are seeking a Coalition government, Mister Prime Minister, then may I suggest you accept my resignation and nominate Lord Baden-Gray for my post?" Sheffield looked as if she had swallowed a bitter pill. "I have never been popular with the Liberals and I fully expect that any terms of a Coalition government will include my removal."
Everyone present knew how hard Lady Sheffield had worked to gain her post in the Cabinet. That she would willingly sacrifice it was a point of pride on her part, selfish and unselfish. Unselfish in the sense that she was putting her nation before her ambitions; selfish in that voluntarily stepping down would look better, and more noble, then being removed as a result of political dealing.
"Your gesture is appreciated, Lady Katherine," Grant stated. Taking in another drag from his half-finished cigar, in part to stifle a yawn, he went on to say, "It is late and we have much work to come. I will see you all tomorrow as I go to address Parliament. I believe we should all get a good night's sleep for what we will face tomorrow."
There were nods from the assembled, but all suspected they would not be capable of sleeping well for a long time to come, not with their nation and empire preparing for War.




Watergate South, Washington D.C., Earth
Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1
29 April 2160 AST


It was past midnight in Washington when Robert Dale finally returned to his current home away from home; an apartment, decently sized, in Watergate South. He had called it home since rising to the Defense Ministry and crossing the Potomac from the Pentagon, now the last of a number of apartments, homes, and billets he'd lived almost entirely for the past thirteen years save for a couple months in '54 when he, on leave, had actually managed to return home to the Dale family farmhouse back in Kansas HM-1.
His apartment was well-furnished. The kitchen was kept stocked by the apartment staff based on an ordering program he confirmed every month or so, with the living room containing a selection of replicated copies from his personal library as well as mementos, the bedroom containing more of both. He found a pre-made ham sandwich to wolf down, making up for the light working dinner he'd taken while being briefed at the Pentagon on the details of Alliance war preperations, and soon retired to his bedroom.

As Minister of Defense the widening war the Alliance faced had placed a massive load squarely on Dale's shoulders, leaving him the man holding the "buck", so to speak, on various matters relating to the Alliance military, bureaucratic and otherwise. For an undetermined amount of time his life would now consist primarily of meetings with the Security Committee or individual members of it, with his Vice Ministers and other Defense Ministry officials, with military planners, with representatives of defense contractors, other Ministerial officials, his counterparts in the national governments and their respective staff, and of course the occasional meeting with the Council's powerful Armed Services Oversight Committee and any other concerned Council Representatives, and even members of national legislatures, who could pull the right strings to get a meeting into the spaces of his personal schedule.
As he undressed and prepared for bed Dale took the time to look to his computer screen. A message was waiting for him from Susanna. She was on deployment again, serving as Squadron Gunnery Officer on the battleship Kansas, currently in the 15th Fleet on assignment in Universe FHI-8. It confirmed that her ship's squadron was one of those being re-assigned for the newly-forming 18th Fleet, destined for the front in the Alpha Quadrant.
As he read his daughter's confident message, a tear came to Dale's eye. My little girl's going to war was the thought in his head. The terrible thought of losing Susan made his gut clench and his heart sick. It made him think of Nicolas, his friend and President, who had lost his own son over twenty years ago due to war and had never recovered from it.
He turned the screen off and slipped into bed. Closing his eyes, he tried to quiet the doubts and thoughts, the fears, roiling about within his mind. He needed sleep to deal with business in the coming days and couldn't let anything interfere with that.
And sleep would come, hesitantly, grudgingly, finally quieting the mind of a father who for the first time in over a decade fully realized that the career he had inspired his precious daughter to follow might become her doom.




The White House


A short distance from where Robert Dale was slowly drifting into an unpeaceful sleep, no such thing came for the President of the Allied Nations. The clock showed 1:38AM as Nicolas Mamatmas studied incessantly the speech he and the speechwriting staff had drawn up that day.
Or rather, the speech he was seeming to study. As his eyes moved over the computer monitor and he murmured or thought the words he saw, contemplating a change here, a change there, his thoughts kept drifting away. His eyes would join them every minute or so, making their way to the family picture a quarter-century old, showing the Mamatmas family together in a dinner. Nicolas and Karyn together on one side, their little grandson Samuel in a high chair at the head of the table, and on the other end, Kevin and Claudia Mamatmas; his son and daughter-in-law.
Looking at the image of his smiling son brought the sensation of a knife twisting through his heart. It reinforced the void that had ached there for so long, numbed only in moments of occupation, always gnawing at him. It reminded him of that day when he, then the Vice President of United Earth, had been informed by a dour official that his son's fighter had been destroyed in battle against the alien Agresskan threatening to poison Earth as it had numerous other populated worlds.

It had taken years, but he was now certain the wound delivered to him that day was a terminal one, fated to kill him. The blow to his heart had left it sick and increasingly unable to take up the strain of his responsibilities. Not three years had passed since the day his heart had first threatened to quit, a heart attack that while easily controlled had served its purpose as a warning.
Perhaps his time would come soon. Perhaps this war would be the final burden that overcame that sick organ in his chest, striking him down as surely as that alien weapon had struck down his son.
Rubbing at his chest, Mamatmas used the other hand to pick up a small glass with water and take a sip. His bleary eyes tried to concentrate on the screen, but the words were getting blurry. He was tired. He needed to sleep.
But he couldn't. He was too busy. There was a war to be won now, a war unlike any that had yet been seen in the known Multiverse. A war that would soon envelop the explored spaces of two disparate universes, that would try the strength, the cohesion, of the Alliance he sought to strengthen and make lasting.
A war that would take the children of millions and billions of loving fathers and kill them, just as Kevin had been killed.
In a single moment Mamatmas' open hand lashed out, smashing into the monitor bearing his speech and knocking it to the ground. An act of violence that was his only outlet for his frustration, his pain. I don't want to do this! he wailed to himself. He couldn't take it. Here he was, overseeing the plunge into a war that would kill so many people. A war that he didn't want, yet everything he loved depended upon him going out and selling it to the people who would have to fight it.

A gentle hand brushed Nicolas across the shoulder. He looked up and over to see Karyn standing over him wearing a nightgown. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She could see the emotions roiling within him, the pain. Her lips gently brushed over his forehead in a kiss before she said, very softly, "You need to get some sleep."
Weak from fatigue and emotional exhaustion, the President of the Alliance followed his wife to the bed. Finally the thoughts that had kept him awake relented, giving way to the weakness in his aging body to let him settle into sleep.




The Synod Building, City of New Plymouth, New Plymouth
New Plymouth Colony
Universe Designate CON-5


The Elect of the Synod served as the legislature for New Plymouth Colony's theocratic republic, deciding upon matters of church and of state equally as the representatives of all Christians of the Church of New Plymouth. Here the distinction of "Liberal" and "Conservative" was not quite as strong as one might see in a secular nation, as both groups generally adhered to the same underpinning precepts in social and domestic policies. Their differences tended to vary primarily in foreign policy, in the dealings with New Plymouth's tributary allies and subjects and states from outside that collection, conservatives favoring a more aggressive policy coupled with social isolation while liberals favored friendliness and a willingness to congregate to varying degrees. One considered their enemies near-apostates, weak pacifists, and naive fools who risked corrupting the Church's flock by contact with the Hell-bound heretics, infidels, and atheists, the others considered their opponents hidebound isolationists not up to the challenges of existing in the modern universe.
However, even conservatives, for all their fire about defending the Church from enemies, were uncertain as to the course being charted for their Church, Nation, and Empire by their leader. Only his devoted followers remained unified in unwavering support these days. But through skullduggery and manipulation those followers held a thin majority of the Synod, so the rest had no real power to oppose Leewood when he truly demanded something.
And so they remained seated as their leader, spiritual and temporal, began his speech. With the fire of conviction burning in his eyes and his voice filled with the passion of a man possessed, Hanson Leewood spelled out to the Synod his version of how things were. Lisea, the old rival, had joined forces with the Alliance, a satanic entity of hedonists and atheists who flaunted God's natural law and sought nothing less than the extermination of the Church. This unholy alliance had begun a process of hemming the Church in, barring it from expansion, while destabilizing its empire by riling up seperatists in the tributary allies - a charge long used against Lisea over the past centuries.

But that wasn't it, oh no. Leewood charged Britain with collusion in this conspiracy. "Perfidious, ungodly Albion" was seeking to expand herself at the Church's expense. Britain was aiding Devenshire - "The Apostles of Greed! The Enslavers of Men!" - to undermine Plymouth's authority in the "Liberated" territories that had once been in Devenshire, all the while conspiring with the Alliance to crush New Plymouth.
So the charges were laid. "But God has not been blind to our danger, dear Brothers, for He has made His Will known!" Leewood proclaimed the outbreak of the Dominion War in ST-3 and the Alliance's being drawn into it as acts of God, meant to weaken Plymouth's enemies and preserve her from harm. "God has come down on our side, my Brothers, and just as he parted the Red Sea so that Moses could lead Israel away from Egypt, so has God parted our enemy's strength so that we may survive! The time has come to fulfill God's Will upon our cosmos, to crush the hedonists, the atheists, the blasphemers and heretics, and to assert our rights under God's Law!"
"As of this hour, I declare the ceasefire with Lisea and the Babylonian Alliance terminated! I also ask the Synod to see the Hand of God and where it points; understand what God has promised us and act accordingly! Declare war upon the Kingdom of the Devenshires, so that we may finally stamp out that offense in our Lord's sight!"
Speaker Stone, as dictated by protocol, grudgingly called the vote. The motion carried by that thin majority that Leewood had managed, built from the coalition of populist and conservative factions in his United Faith Party, and by their power New Plymouth Colony formally declared war on the Kingdom of the Devenshires.
By that act and Leewood's, New Plymouth Colony was now formally at war with three of its neighbors. That was a figure soon to rise.




The White House, Washington D.C., Earth
Alliance of Democratic Nations
Universe Designate HE-1


The locale chosen was the Oval Office. Once a proud symbol of the American Presidency in this universe - still such in others - it had now been appropriated by the Alliance President as a result of the decision to keep the capital on HE-1 Earth. It proved the best place for a President to deliver somber messages to his or her citizens, whether it was Jennifer Verdes informing the young Alliance that Alliance forces had engaged the Clans in Universe MWB-32 (the first such conflict waged by the new organization, it would be noted) or President Mamatmas announcing the outbreak of the Dominion War not half a year prior to this occasion. The familiarity of the setting, the sight of the Chief Executive of the Alliance seated behind his desk, provided both visual cues as to the gravity of the situation and some comfort that things were still under control.
With his hands on his desk and a solemn expression on his face, Mamatmas began to speak. "Fellow citizens, I come to you today in the most grave of circumstances. Earlier today the Colony and Church of New Plymouth terminated the January 2156 ceasefire with the Alliance and Lisea. We are again at War with New Plymouth Colony."
"The Alliance and our allies face a difficult struggle in not one but two universes now. This is a struggle unlike any seen in our history. We must wage war upon not one or two fronts, but many, against powerful militarized societies that seek to crush any who oppose their ambitions of conquest. We still face potential foes in other universes who may seek to exploit our situation for their own benefit, to attack the Alliance or those nations we protect while our forces are engaged elsewhere."

"Against these threats, real and potential, we must come together as never before if we are to protect ourselves. With this great struggle ahead of us, I have asked the national governments and the Alliance Council to enact total mobilization for the war... and they have agreed."
"Now I come to ask you, the peoples of the Alliance, for your aid, your sacrifice, in this war. I ask you for your blood... your sweat... your toil... your tears. I ask for you to accept service in the war whether it be in the mines and shipyards or the fleet and armies. I ask for you to sacrifice in your daily lives to preserve materials for the war effort, to conserve energy, to improve your self-sufficiency, and to do all things that are necessary to see the Alliance through to total victory."
"For those Nations that have already suffered War, great and small, in the past generation, I ask for you to accept this new sacrifice in the name of the Union of Nations that stands beside you against those who wish you harm. For those Nations privileged enough to have known a long peace, I ask for you to join your fellow Allied Nations in shouldering this burden in the name of the Union that has brought you further prosperity and security. Without your whole-hearted participation in this war there can be no victory, and the consequences for us all will be nothing short of disasterous."

For all his emotional control, the thought of what he had to say next caused a tear to form in the President's eye. "I know that what I ask of you is great. The price we pay for victory will be a terrible one. I do not ask this price of you lightly. It is a price forced on us by those who dream of conquest and enslavement, one we must pay if we are to save ourselves and others from living in a Multiverse where such evil thrives." As the solitary tear finished running down his cheek, he finally blinked. A breath was all he needed to compose himself from the ache in his heart. "I will grieve for every life lost and every family broken by the war we face and I will pray for the safety of those still on the frontlines. And I will remember that is through their ultimate sacrifice that we will emerge triumphant from this war. And with that victory we will guarantee all of the things that we cherish; hope, prosperity... freedom."
"I know that if we commit ourselves to this war we will be victorious. We will preserve our Alliance and save those that have put their faith in it. Through victory we will bring freedom to untold billions who today labor under the oppression of our enemies. Through victory we will provide an example to the Multiverse of the strength of our Alliance and what it stands for. We will prove that there is no stronger society, in peace or in war, than the society founded upon the principles of Liberty."
"May God watch over us in these trying times. Good evening and God bless."

A light flipped off on the display before him, telling Mamatmas that the feed had cut off. He drew in a deep breath and leaned forward against his desk, reaching a hand up to brush another tear from where it was forming in his eye.
He had done what he could to encourage the people of the Alliance to accept the sacrifices to come. Now all he could do was continue in his duties and have faith that they would rise to the challenge that had been placed before them.

[Steve]

Well, it's Thanksgiving, I put together this little update as a gift for the holiday. I may try to finish the story by Christmas.


PSV John Knox, on approach to Suleyman
Grand Duchy of New Anatolia, Kingdom of the Devenshires
Universe Designate CON-5
30 April 2160 AST


Accompanied by an entire battle squadron and attached escorts, the God's Judgement-class Plymouthite dreadnought entered distant orbit of the near-border world of Devenshire. Further back, about an AU distant, were the scattered debris remains of automated torpedo craft that had attempted in vain to cease the movement of the John Knox and her forces, having nothing to show for their effort save a damaged bulkhead on the destroyer Gabriel Bay.
On the command deck of the John Knox stood Rear Admiral Peter Wallace, a denizen of New Salem of Scottish extraction and from the Presbyterian sect of the Plymouthite Church. He, like many admirals in the fleet, had made his career as a combat officer fighting Lisea during the Twenty Year War, as that conflict had been called since the ceasefire four years prior. He'd spent the last four years in mostly shore duties and the academy, giving him time to live with his family once more and enjoy the company of his wife Ann.
Sadly, the call of duty had cut that short. Ann and the family were on a liner heading back to New Salem from where they'd been living on Abden - the site of the naval post he'd been assigned to - to get away from the front, and he was once again at war. And about to partake in a duty he had no love for.

That much couldn't be said for Squadron Deacon Jacob Little. The chaplains and deacons of the Church Navy had long been meant to provide consolation and direction to the men (and very rarely, the women) of the Navy; since Leewood, however, their powers had expanded to include ensuring the loyalty of the command officers and that they followed their orders to the letter. Little himself struck Wallace as the typical United Faith adherent; relatively young and with an arrogance that made him consider if Leewood and his followers thought that Christ's admonitions to be meek didn't apply to them. Even now he seemed eager to undertake their mission.
Their force, detached from the 4th Fleet under Admiral Haug, had been tasked to invade the Suleyman system. It was not a particularly important one, mostly an agricultural world with some light industry that served primarily the planet's needs, but it was part of Plymouth's bid to secure eventual victory by overstretching the enemy's logistical capacity.
"Sir..." One of his officers looked up from his display. "We have reached optimum firing point. The targeting program for the... special payload has selected targets in the planet's jet streams. The entire landmass will be covered within three days."
"Excellent," Little remarked. "Commence firing when ready."

"Does this not unsettle you, Deacon?", one of the lieutenants asked... rather boldly. Wallace noted him as a newer man, Andrew Heresford, from New Salem as well. "I understand if we were invading the world and had to open fire, but what we are about to do seems very un-Christian...."
"Lieutenant, remember that the Presiding Bishop himself has ordered this operation. His understanding of Scripture is superior to any of our's. If he says it may be done, then it may." Little put a reassuring, yet also threatening, hand on the officer's shoulder. "Remember that God punishes those who do not believe in much the way we are about to."
Little's words were not in the least as reassuring as he obviously thought, but there was nothing more to be done. Wallace permitted the Deacon the privilege of giving the order: "Fire special munitions."

Missiles erupted from the rails on the John Knox and the other battleships of the squadron. Ordinarily such weapons would carry warheads for damaging enemy light warships or even, with proper caps, blasting enemy deflectors. But these weapons were different: within were the fruits of the "Heavenly Wrath Project", as Wallace had learned in the prior months. A project meant to find a way to bring Lisea to its knees in the Twenty Year War, only fulfilled after contact with other universes permitted access to alternate sources of information and material to bring about the desired result, the weapon fired contained the Wrath Contagion. An artificially engineered virus targeted at agricultural foodstuff plants, though also capable of being carried by Humans and causing them some distress, it would swiftly kill the agricultural bounty of any world it was spread upon and leave the population starving without external help.
Wallace watched with a heavy heart as the missiles did their work, dispersing the Wrath Contagion into the jet streams of Suleyman. When it was done, a planet of two billion people would be left to starve, unable to grow food as the virus would linger within them, and some other life forms on the planet, long enough to infect and kill any replanted crops for years to come.
Suleyman was not to be invaded of course, and this "seeding" was only being done to worlds Plymouth did not intend to own. This was a poisoning of the wells, pure and simple, to force the enemy to divert massive amounts of shipping to sustain billions of people instead of their military forces on the front. This was to be Plymouth's "key to victory"; spoiling the worlds of New Anatolia to such an extent that their enemies could not win against their own powerful forces.

Yet he wondered if it would work. Would it dishearten the enemy... or enrage them? Would their own wrath be as swift and terrible upon Plymouth? Little, like their leader, was confident in God's favor being on their side and a victory to come. But as the John Knox turned away to head toward a hyperspace transit point and depart from the system, Peter Wallace found himself reciting another Bible verse in his mind.
As ye sow, so shall ye reap...

[Steve]

Parliament Building, New London
New Britain, Kingdom of New Britain
1 May 2160 AST


The large, amphitheater sized chamber in which the Parliament could meet as a whole was packed beyond standing room only. The Commons and Lords were in session together to hear the words of their Prime Minister who, among other things, announced the formation of a "National Government" between the plurality-holding Tories and the next largest party, the Liberals.
The news would come then. With a somber expression, Sir Alexander stood and took the floor, informing Parliament of the reports from Devenshire. Several worlds had been invaded by Plymouthite troops; many others, however, had been subjected to bombardment from space with warheads carrying biological weapons, the nature of which "We are not sure of at this moment".
The notice of the bombings took the wind out of the sails of those MPs who were opposed to going to war over what some saw as the "mess of the Allied Nations". Grant had made as eloquent a case as he could for Britain's honor being at stake as the nation responsible for the Treaty of Westminster; now sheer outrage and disgust at the inhuman, barbaric behavior of the Leewood regime finished the work. A Liberal MP stood, was recognized, and called for a vote on a declaration of war on New Plymouth and China. A Tory MP seconded the call, while a third Liberal proposed they avoid declaring war on China and give the Chinese a way to get out of the conflict.
With the debating over the vote came, and it came with an overwhelming majority: the British Empire formally declared war on New Plymouth Colony. The consequences of such, given the network of British alliances and treaties, meant that by their act alone the belligerents or potential belligerents would stretch across much of CON-5.
The final consequence of Hanson Leewood's ambition had come, and like his purported allies in the ST-3 universe, he had ignited a conflagration that would now engulf his own.


Central Command, Cardassia Prime
Cardassian Union
Universe Designate ST-3


Sayon entered the conference room flanked by Jem'Hadar, distrustful but eager to get the situation over with. Cardassian guards were already awaiting him and they regarded him and his guards with suspicion, but they made no sudden movements, much to Sayon's gratification.
The near-week since the horrible, fateful battle at New Liberty had nearly doomed the Dominion's foothold on the Alpha Quadrant, or as Sayon sometimes ruefully considered, it merely brought it almost to fruition. He had returned with rage at the Cardassians who retreated and abandoned the Jem'Hadar to their search for the Founder and had ordered the executions of all command-rank officers in the fleet that fled. The Cardassians had refused, shots had been fired, and for three days it seemed like the two allies were on the brink of a war that would have certainly led to rapid defeat. Some Guls and officials had even sent unofficial feelers to the Alliance through various neutral powers seeking their support in renouncing the Dominion.

Then Matan Arterius arrived. The scion of one of the leading oligarchial families, one that used to dominate the Detepa Council before the rise of the Central Command and the imposition of military rule, Matan held great influence among the bureaucracy of state and military combined and quickly brought to heel the growing forces that were ready to cast off the Dominion and sue for peace separately. Sayon was uncertain of the grizzled Cardassian's intentions and wanted to get his measure. He doubted he could control Matan in any way, not as Weyoun and the Founder had done with Dukat, but better an ally that would fight and delay an invasion of the Dominion proper than a foe that would betray the Dominion.
The door on the other side opened. Matan entered, the definition of Cardassian leadership, complete with a scar across his forehead from prior service. He appraised Sayon closely before taking his seat, Sayon doing the same. "Vorta Sayon, let's dispense with pleasantries and get to the point. We are at war. You have jeopardized that war, and emboldened those who wish to sue for peace, by attempting to punish Cardassian commanders for a legitimate decision in battle."
"The Cardassian fleet abandoned us to the enemy," Sayon responded forcefully. "It turned its back on us as we tried to rescue the Founder."
"The Founder was clearly dead, and it was you who risked everything through your misguided devotions," Matan counter-charged. "Either way, one thing is clear. If we fight each other, the war is lost. I will lose control of the military and the side favoring peace will betray the Dominion."
"If this happens the Cardassian people will be pay the price of betrayal. We would wipe you off the face of this planet!"
"You would try," Matan corrected. "And the Cardassian Fleet would damage you so greatly in the attempt that, even if successful, you could not resist the rest of your enemies. The Klingons and Federation, reinforced by the Alliance, would hunt you down and wipe out the Dominion in this quadrant, leaving them free to invade the Gamma Quadrant. I doubt you wish to see this happen." Matan put his hands together on the table. "For what it's worth, I don't want it to either. I want to fulfill Gul Dukat's ambitions as best as possible. We start by ending this needless fighting and going on the defensive. We have time. It will take them months to clear the Federation systems we maintained garrisons on. Those men will sell themselves dearly, giving us time to establish defensive stations and to repulse enemy attacks."

"And the wormhole?," Sayon asked pointedly. "Even with the loss of the first reinforcement fleet the Dominion can field another shortly. Dukat's plan..."
"Dukat's plan was based on the presumption that the Dominion fleet would not suddenly attack the Cardassian one," Matan retorted in irritation. "Five hundred ships damaged or even destroyed by the skirmishes you've caused these past few days. You have gutted the very forces that we could have used in a counterattack."
"The reserves..."
"There are no reserves!" Matan threw a PADD across the table. "For your benefit. Fleets tied up with the Klingons, another caught in this new Talarian offensive, a fleet watching the Romulan frontier, ships spread across the breadth of the Cardassian Union keeping client races in line, our whole fleet is accounted for! All from your bungling."
Sayon looked over the list with a clenched jaw. "How long until we can bring the main combat fleet back to strength?"
"Given the thousands of losses we have endured? Even with our shipyards working at peak capacity it will take us months, over a year, with two months as the estimated time to get our damaged ships from the past month of operations back into service. Thanks to that damnable minefield we were forced to begin the war that Dukat and Weyoun planned a year ahead of schedule, before the yard expansions and upgrades could be completed. We have at least managed to reduce the New Liberty gates to only one quarter effective capacity, and that is our opportunity. We must throw everything into establishing defensive lines, trade systems, whole sectors if need be, for time to finish the yard overhauls and to set up defenses. We must do this now, Sayon, and you must give up your demands for executions among the command officers. Do this or I will go open peace talks with the Alliance myself!"
The look on Sayon's face betrayed how sour this was to him. There would be no immediate attack on the Wormhole and the Cardassians were completely untrustworthy as allies at the time. But he had little choice; if the Dominion collapsed here, without a fight to divert enemy resources, the Gamma Quadrant could be invaded before the Dominion was ready to contest it.
"Very well," Sayon finally stated. He gestured to Matan. "I will retract the charges on the Cardassian officers who fled at New Liberty. Let us work together to serve the Founders and be their protectors."
With a bit of a smirk, Matan added, "Let us indeed/i]." Unsurprisingly, his words had not a bit of sincerity to them.



InterStellar Alliance Complex, Tuzanor, Minbar
Minbari Federation, InterStellar Alliance
Universe Designate EM-5
2 May 2160 AST

"....confirmed that the Austro-Bavarian Kingdom has declared war on New Plymouth Colony, making it the fourth interstellar state of Universe CON-5 to issue a declaration of war since the invasion of Devenshire began two days ago. There is still no word from Krajowa on whether Nowy Krakow will join the conflict but sources close to the Premier...."
"....voted to mobilize reserves in Metropolitan France and its colonies. Sources in the French military state that many will be transferred to command of the Alliance Army for war duty, though national defense priorities would also play a part in the ultimate destination of...."
"....bond sales have spiked again today, as President Mamatmas' War Bond Initiative gains support from populations across every nation in the Alliance. Roughly six hundred trillion in Alliance dollars has already been raised according to government sources...."
"....Royal Navy confirm plans to deploy...."
"....voting on rationing of anti-matter fuel to be held...."
"....spend the summer liberating worlds still occupied by Card...."
A hand snatched the control, preventing it from being toggled to another channel. The movement caught the attention of the former holder. Blinking from the disruption to his thoughts, John Sheridan looked over to see his wife moving to sit beside him. Delenn muted the viewer as the news crew presented starmaps of the front in ST-3 and set the controls out of his reach. She said nothing further, waiting for him to speak.

"There's nothing good on," he finally said, in a lame tone of barely-attempted humor.
"There is not." Seeing the look on his face, she asked, "John, what is wrong?"
"You mean besides the massive war?"
"Besides that, yes."
Biting into his lip, Sheridan put his hands together in his lap and tried to collect his thoughts. Doing so was taking longer than he was used to... but that was to be expected. He was older, slower, and his time was running out. "Delenn... it's not just another war in another universe. This war has the potential to be bloodier than anything we've seen before, bloodier even than the Shadow War. And it's not a case of two sides who are both right and both wrong causing it, but of one side that's trying to do the very same things we founded the Alliance, our Alliance, to stop. This isn't a war where we can be neutral, not morally. We should pick a side."
"We also founded the Alliance to bring peace," Delenn reminded him. "And we need that. We've finally repaired the damage from Durla, but the Drakh... I shouldn't have to tell you this. You are Ranger One, this is something you should already know."
"We need to be doing something about this, Delenn. I need to be doing something. If I could get approval to have the Rangers..."
"John, you have more important things to do with the time you have left!"
That brought silence to the room. They looked at each other for a long moment before Delenn saw fit to continue. "This war is a commitment you cannot make. Not with so little time left. You have already fought your wars, John. This war is for others to fight."
"I know," he confessed. "But... I feel like it's wrong to do nothing. Not over these principles, with these stakes... I need to do something Delenn. Anything."
"We both will. We will sit, and watch, and we will pray."
The viewer remained muted as they clasped hands and sat together, in silence. A sigh came from both; in their time they had fought legends and toppled tyrants, but that time was over. Under Delenn and the InterStellar Alliance they had forged together, the universe they called home would remain an oasis of peace.

Elsewhere, the opposite was the same. Elsewhere the factories would be converted, the young called from their homes, the shipyards pressed to the limit. Elsewhere the gentle lifestyle of nations at peace would give way to the needs and rigors of Total War. Elsewhere worlds would be ravaged, populations subjected to shell and bomb, and the brave and the cowardly alike put to the fires of War.
Elsewhere, there would be no Peace, only the Thundering of Guns.

[Mayabird]

*lightning strikes* It's ALIVE!

...and, does that mean it's done?

[Steve]

Yeah, it's done.

[Themightytom]

Yeah, it's done.

but what an ending! Great work Steve!

[fb111a]

Yeah, it's done.

but what an ending! Great work Steve!

Agreed!

Look forward to the next one - or more Federation Civil War!!

[Zed Snardbody]

Same here it was as always an excellent read.

[Voyager989]

I really liked reading it, Steve. Duchess might have been the one to get me into TGG, but since I've discovered your stories, I find I rather like them as well.