Garm Bel Iblis
Commodore
Chapter:
Thirteen months ago
Kalandra Sector
USS Saratoga, Stardate
52631.4- April 2375.
“Six weeks? I can’t leave for that long. They’ll have my commission.” Brice Kellin sat within the dark confines of his ready room and studied the angelic face of his new bride. Lorissa Manning, First Officer of the USS Lexington.
“You’re being naïve, Brice, you’ve been away from your ship for longer than that.”
Kellin felt a nerve pinch behind his eyes. “Not during war time,” he said. “Regardless,” he said, “Saratoga is due at DS9 next week for a complete refit of the engineering computers. The entire layover should take about five days. I can get away for that long, no longer.”
Lorissa looked pained. “This is our honeymoon, Brice! We’ve been married a year and we’ve only spent a handful of hours together.”
“I’m trying my best, Lorissa,” he replied. “We’re trying to keep the quadrant from falling apart! You knew that when you married me. I can’t give up that command. If you’d taken the offer I gave you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Oh please,” Lorissa said. “A position as your ship’s science officer? It’d never work. Husbands and wives have no business putting themselves in that place.”
“I’ll be sure and let Mac Calhoun and Elizabeth Shelby know you feel that way.”
“Luck of the draw, you know we’d never be able to work in that sort of capacity. What did you call me? A liberal idealist whose captain has to reign in her bleeding heart?”
Brice actually chuckled. “Sounds about right, dear.” His attention was diverted a moment by a blinking indicator on his desktop. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch. We’ll work this out.”
“I love you,” Lorissa said.
“I know,” Kellin said, terminating the link. He turned to watch the stars stream by at warp as glided through space to her next port of call. Fortunately for him, after this mission he’d be within range of the Lexington’s current position. He’d be with his wife again soon. He shook his head in amazement at her stubbornness. He’d promised her a honeymoon that would satisfy them both. That’d turned out to be a tougher job than he’d thought.
The arguments had continued for the past few weeks. And now Lorissa wanted him to take six weeks and head for Maraina IV. Located five hundred light-years from Deneb IV, it’d take four weeks of travel roundtrip to make the journey. The doors parted as he stepped onto the elliptical-shaped bridge and headed for his command chair.
The designers back at Mars at the Utopia docks had assured Brice Kellin that the new warp dynamic configuration of the Akira-Class ship made them the fastest in the fleet. Running across the desolate void of the Kalandra Sector towards Chin’Toka at the far end of the border regions under battle stations and with each moment a lesson in death, warp nine point eight felt like a snail running a marathon against a freight train.
Gripping the arms of the command chair until his knuckles whitened, Kellin refrained from snapping into the com at chief engineer Piller. He knew Mike was doing everything he could to get them to their destination in time to make a difference.
Twenty hours ago, the Dominion along with their new Breen allies had counterattacked Allied positions holding the Chin’Toka system, the Federation’s only foothold in Cardassian space. Three hundred and twelve ships had set out from DS9 several hours ago. Last reports had them entering the Chin’Toka at 0845 this morning. Then nothing. The thought that the entire fleet had been wiped out was hard to imagine. Even in the most violent encounters a few ships escaped to return to friendly waters.
“Time,” Kellin said through gritted teeth.
Sarah Kaplan, palms slick with sweat looked up from her helm. “Two minutes, forty-one seconds.”
“Mister Gleason?” he asked turning back to his tactical officer.
“Shields at maximum, weapons are standing by.”
Kellin stole a glance at his XO, Kelso Vanick. “Coordinate with tactical. Whatever happened out here I don’t want to be surprised.”
Vanick was on his feet on his way next to Gleason at his console. “Sovar,” Kelso said the Vulcan operations manager. “Route some more bandwidth from the secondary’s to the targeting array. If we get surrounded I want to have the ability to target as many bastards as possible.”
Sovar entered the appropriate commands into his console. “Twelve gigaquads have been routed, that is all that is available without hampering sensor efficiency.”
“You’re the best Sovar,” Kelso said.
The Vulcan smiled. “Logical too.”
Kellin shook his head, still after six months as captain trying to warp his mind around a V'tosh ka'tur of a Vulcan who had embraced his emotions instead of suppressing them.
“We’re as ready as we’re gonna be,” Vanick reported.
“Two more ships coming in at high warp off port and starboard,” Gleason reported. “Venture and Bozeman.”
Kellin looked up at the sensor display as the Galaxy and Soyuz class ships respectively came in and formed up with Saratoga.
“This is it,” Kellin said, checking the chrono. They were fifty seconds from the rendezvous. “Stay sharp.” The counter ran down to 00:00:00 and the warp drive shut down and the impulse generators kicked in.
The three ships emerged into a vast graveyard.
Kellin’s stomach lurched. “Scan for survivors,” he said.
“Thousands of escape pods,” Vanick said, moving away from tactical and standing next to Lieutenant Thara, the Andorian chief science officer. “Every ship has been destroyed,” he said in amazement. “No sign of Dominion activity.”
“Begin rescue operations,” Kellin said. “Contact Starfleet Command and request reinforcements.”
<><><>
“’The next thing we knew all power systems had been drained and we were adrift. Every other ship out there was in the same shape. We abandoned ship and the Dominion fleet landed troops on the two planets and withdrew.”
Kellin sat at his desk in his ready room listening to Ben Sisko recount the short-lived battle against the Dominion and the Breen. “This is a hell of a turn,” Kellin said. ”No one thought the Breen would every ally themselves with anyone. We had the Dominion on the ropes. First San Francisco and now this.” He picked up a data padd, entered a few commands and handed it off to Sisko. “One ship did survive, a Klingon bird of prey. I’ve got my chief engineer trying to figure out how it was spared.”
“That could be useful,” Sisko said, reviewing the data.
“I’m sorry about the Defiant, Ben,” Kellin said. “She was a good ship.”
“The best,” Sisko said with a grin.
“Recovery efforts are almost done. Two Federation transports have arrived and will take you back DS9.”
“Starfleet has new orders for you then?” Sisko asked.
Nodding his head, Kellin dropped into his chair. “Fall back to the Umani sector and evacuate the Starfleet forces from Starbase 832. Intelligence is pretty sure that’s where the next attack is coming.”
“I don’t envy you that task, especially with this new Breen weapon.”
“We’ll get them out of there,” Kellin said.
“Good luck,” Sisko said, standing up, adjusting his tunic. He extended his hand and Kellin shook it firmly.
“Get yourself a new ship,” Kellin said. “We need you back in the fight.”
“I’ll be back,” Sisko said with a nod.
After the captain left Kellin ordered the helm to head for Umani at maximum warp. He knew they only had a handful of hours to reach the Starbase before the Dominion arrived. One way or another they were in store for a hell of a fight.
Chapter:
It had taken eight hours to reach the Umani sector and when the Saratoga fell into orbit around Tykon Two, their sensors told them everything they needed to know about the status of the Starbase on the planet’s surface.
“At least ten thousand life-signs on the base,” Gleason said from tactical. “Jem’Hadar, Breen, Cardassia and Vorta.”
Kellin watched as the planet rolled across the lower half of the main viewscreen. Starbase 832 was a surface-based installation that used to provide colonial support for ships and people headed out beyond the frontier. When the war had broken out two years ago the planet had turned into an advanced scientific laboratory. The station had a complement of nearly two thousand people, and with the sheer number of Jem’Hadar, Cardassian and Breen closing in on them, they were hopelessly outmatched.
“The fact that the base wasn’t obliterated from orbit doesn’t bode well,” Vanick said. “If the Dominion knows what we have down there…”
“Then we’re too late,” Kellin said. “Are there any Federation life-sgins down there?”
Gleason nodded. “At least nine hundred all localized in the cargo bays.”
“Sarah,” he said to the conn officer. “Move us into lower orbit. Kevin,” he said turning to Gleason, “arm quantum torpedoes.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Vanick asked. “There are people alive down there.”
“Orders,” Kellin said. “Torpedo status?”
Gleason’s face had gone ashen. He stared blankly t the captain then shook his head. He turned back to his board. “Weapons locked.”
Kellin turned back to the screen. “Fire.”
<><><>
The mushroom cloud ascended three kilometers into the air, visible from orbit it expanded higher and wider. Brice Kellin stood in the forward observation lounge and watched the fires rage. He sipped his drink, a rare bourbon, the real alcoholic stuff that he kept in his quarters.
“Captain?”
He spun at the sound of the voice of his XO. “Kelso,” he said, with a nod.
“We’re cleared for departure,” Vanick said. “I’ve plotted a course for DS9. Rest of the fleet’s falling back to Bajor until Starfleet Engineering comes up with a countermeasure to the Breen weapon.”
Kellin downed the rest of his drink. “Go ahead.”
“Brice. What the hell did you do? We didn’t have orders to shell the base.”
Kellin didn’t meet his first officer’s eyes. “We had orders to keep our base out of Dominion hands.”
“That doesn’t include murdering Federation citizens,” Vanick snapped back.
“Your objection’s noted, Commander. Dismissed.”
Vanick turned for the door then turned back to face Kellin. “Brice, we’ve served together a long time; been friends for twenty years. You crossed over a line today. I wont’ let you do that again.”
Kellin turned his back on him and refilled his glass.
TEN MONTHS AGO:
“Sorry sir, we’ve been at it for twenty hours straight. Piller’s running his crew ragged, but there’s no way we’re going to make the launch window.”
Brice Kellin grabbed the arms of the chair in his ready room and raged in silence at his XO’s report. Saratoga had seen her share of action over the last eight weeks. Running convoy protection to Argolis had cost them the entire engine assembly of the starboard warp nacelle. The entire engine had been shattered to hell and crews from DS9 where they were currently docked were working around the clock to make the ship warp-ready again.
He spun his chair around and looked out the long narrow port at the vast fleet arrayed around DS9. The Federation Alliance would be launching at oh four hundred tomorrow morning for the endgame against Dominion forces at Cardassia Prime. And he’d be stuck her with a damaged warp drive. “Fine. Re-staff the engineering crews and put everyone back to their normal shifts. We’ll be staying here with rearguard duty in case things go badly at Cardassia.”
Vanick nodded, entering some notes into a padd. “Not a fun idea, is it?”
“What? Losing the war or being stuck back here?”
“Both,” Vanick said with a small grin. “How are you holding up, Brice? Since Tykon Two you’ve been pretty isolated.”
“I killed ten thousand Dominion troops and nearly a thousand Federation citizens in cold blood back there,” Kellin said. “And the thing is, I don’t regret it, and would do it again.”
Vanick looked taken aback. “That’s quite an admission, sir.”
“Not too pretty either,” Kellin said. “I’ve spent two decades in the service. This entire war has changed everything and everyone. I don’t see people any more, I just see targets to eliminate.”
Taking one of the empty seats across the captain’s desk, Vanick put the padd down and leaned forward. “Brice, you can’t think that way. That’s exactly what the enemy tries to do in war. Make the victims a faceless shadow; to give up your soul. Don’t let them beat you.”
“I’ll leave the soul searching and the moralizing to you, Commander.” Kellin picked up the padd Vanick had been using and handed it back to his first officer. “Take the bridge. Maintain yellow alert until further notice. Dismissed.”
“Brice-“
“Get out.”
Thirteen months ago
Kalandra Sector
USS Saratoga, Stardate
52631.4- April 2375.
“Six weeks? I can’t leave for that long. They’ll have my commission.” Brice Kellin sat within the dark confines of his ready room and studied the angelic face of his new bride. Lorissa Manning, First Officer of the USS Lexington.
“You’re being naïve, Brice, you’ve been away from your ship for longer than that.”
Kellin felt a nerve pinch behind his eyes. “Not during war time,” he said. “Regardless,” he said, “Saratoga is due at DS9 next week for a complete refit of the engineering computers. The entire layover should take about five days. I can get away for that long, no longer.”
Lorissa looked pained. “This is our honeymoon, Brice! We’ve been married a year and we’ve only spent a handful of hours together.”
“I’m trying my best, Lorissa,” he replied. “We’re trying to keep the quadrant from falling apart! You knew that when you married me. I can’t give up that command. If you’d taken the offer I gave you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Oh please,” Lorissa said. “A position as your ship’s science officer? It’d never work. Husbands and wives have no business putting themselves in that place.”
“I’ll be sure and let Mac Calhoun and Elizabeth Shelby know you feel that way.”
“Luck of the draw, you know we’d never be able to work in that sort of capacity. What did you call me? A liberal idealist whose captain has to reign in her bleeding heart?”
Brice actually chuckled. “Sounds about right, dear.” His attention was diverted a moment by a blinking indicator on his desktop. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch. We’ll work this out.”
“I love you,” Lorissa said.
“I know,” Kellin said, terminating the link. He turned to watch the stars stream by at warp as glided through space to her next port of call. Fortunately for him, after this mission he’d be within range of the Lexington’s current position. He’d be with his wife again soon. He shook his head in amazement at her stubbornness. He’d promised her a honeymoon that would satisfy them both. That’d turned out to be a tougher job than he’d thought.
The arguments had continued for the past few weeks. And now Lorissa wanted him to take six weeks and head for Maraina IV. Located five hundred light-years from Deneb IV, it’d take four weeks of travel roundtrip to make the journey. The doors parted as he stepped onto the elliptical-shaped bridge and headed for his command chair.
The designers back at Mars at the Utopia docks had assured Brice Kellin that the new warp dynamic configuration of the Akira-Class ship made them the fastest in the fleet. Running across the desolate void of the Kalandra Sector towards Chin’Toka at the far end of the border regions under battle stations and with each moment a lesson in death, warp nine point eight felt like a snail running a marathon against a freight train.
Gripping the arms of the command chair until his knuckles whitened, Kellin refrained from snapping into the com at chief engineer Piller. He knew Mike was doing everything he could to get them to their destination in time to make a difference.
Twenty hours ago, the Dominion along with their new Breen allies had counterattacked Allied positions holding the Chin’Toka system, the Federation’s only foothold in Cardassian space. Three hundred and twelve ships had set out from DS9 several hours ago. Last reports had them entering the Chin’Toka at 0845 this morning. Then nothing. The thought that the entire fleet had been wiped out was hard to imagine. Even in the most violent encounters a few ships escaped to return to friendly waters.
“Time,” Kellin said through gritted teeth.
Sarah Kaplan, palms slick with sweat looked up from her helm. “Two minutes, forty-one seconds.”
“Mister Gleason?” he asked turning back to his tactical officer.
“Shields at maximum, weapons are standing by.”
Kellin stole a glance at his XO, Kelso Vanick. “Coordinate with tactical. Whatever happened out here I don’t want to be surprised.”
Vanick was on his feet on his way next to Gleason at his console. “Sovar,” Kelso said the Vulcan operations manager. “Route some more bandwidth from the secondary’s to the targeting array. If we get surrounded I want to have the ability to target as many bastards as possible.”
Sovar entered the appropriate commands into his console. “Twelve gigaquads have been routed, that is all that is available without hampering sensor efficiency.”
“You’re the best Sovar,” Kelso said.
The Vulcan smiled. “Logical too.”
Kellin shook his head, still after six months as captain trying to warp his mind around a V'tosh ka'tur of a Vulcan who had embraced his emotions instead of suppressing them.
“We’re as ready as we’re gonna be,” Vanick reported.
“Two more ships coming in at high warp off port and starboard,” Gleason reported. “Venture and Bozeman.”
Kellin looked up at the sensor display as the Galaxy and Soyuz class ships respectively came in and formed up with Saratoga.
“This is it,” Kellin said, checking the chrono. They were fifty seconds from the rendezvous. “Stay sharp.” The counter ran down to 00:00:00 and the warp drive shut down and the impulse generators kicked in.
The three ships emerged into a vast graveyard.
Kellin’s stomach lurched. “Scan for survivors,” he said.
“Thousands of escape pods,” Vanick said, moving away from tactical and standing next to Lieutenant Thara, the Andorian chief science officer. “Every ship has been destroyed,” he said in amazement. “No sign of Dominion activity.”
“Begin rescue operations,” Kellin said. “Contact Starfleet Command and request reinforcements.”
<><><>
“’The next thing we knew all power systems had been drained and we were adrift. Every other ship out there was in the same shape. We abandoned ship and the Dominion fleet landed troops on the two planets and withdrew.”
Kellin sat at his desk in his ready room listening to Ben Sisko recount the short-lived battle against the Dominion and the Breen. “This is a hell of a turn,” Kellin said. ”No one thought the Breen would every ally themselves with anyone. We had the Dominion on the ropes. First San Francisco and now this.” He picked up a data padd, entered a few commands and handed it off to Sisko. “One ship did survive, a Klingon bird of prey. I’ve got my chief engineer trying to figure out how it was spared.”
“That could be useful,” Sisko said, reviewing the data.
“I’m sorry about the Defiant, Ben,” Kellin said. “She was a good ship.”
“The best,” Sisko said with a grin.
“Recovery efforts are almost done. Two Federation transports have arrived and will take you back DS9.”
“Starfleet has new orders for you then?” Sisko asked.
Nodding his head, Kellin dropped into his chair. “Fall back to the Umani sector and evacuate the Starfleet forces from Starbase 832. Intelligence is pretty sure that’s where the next attack is coming.”
“I don’t envy you that task, especially with this new Breen weapon.”
“We’ll get them out of there,” Kellin said.
“Good luck,” Sisko said, standing up, adjusting his tunic. He extended his hand and Kellin shook it firmly.
“Get yourself a new ship,” Kellin said. “We need you back in the fight.”
“I’ll be back,” Sisko said with a nod.
After the captain left Kellin ordered the helm to head for Umani at maximum warp. He knew they only had a handful of hours to reach the Starbase before the Dominion arrived. One way or another they were in store for a hell of a fight.
Chapter:
It had taken eight hours to reach the Umani sector and when the Saratoga fell into orbit around Tykon Two, their sensors told them everything they needed to know about the status of the Starbase on the planet’s surface.
“At least ten thousand life-signs on the base,” Gleason said from tactical. “Jem’Hadar, Breen, Cardassia and Vorta.”
Kellin watched as the planet rolled across the lower half of the main viewscreen. Starbase 832 was a surface-based installation that used to provide colonial support for ships and people headed out beyond the frontier. When the war had broken out two years ago the planet had turned into an advanced scientific laboratory. The station had a complement of nearly two thousand people, and with the sheer number of Jem’Hadar, Cardassian and Breen closing in on them, they were hopelessly outmatched.
“The fact that the base wasn’t obliterated from orbit doesn’t bode well,” Vanick said. “If the Dominion knows what we have down there…”
“Then we’re too late,” Kellin said. “Are there any Federation life-sgins down there?”
Gleason nodded. “At least nine hundred all localized in the cargo bays.”
“Sarah,” he said to the conn officer. “Move us into lower orbit. Kevin,” he said turning to Gleason, “arm quantum torpedoes.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Vanick asked. “There are people alive down there.”
“Orders,” Kellin said. “Torpedo status?”
Gleason’s face had gone ashen. He stared blankly t the captain then shook his head. He turned back to his board. “Weapons locked.”
Kellin turned back to the screen. “Fire.”
<><><>
The mushroom cloud ascended three kilometers into the air, visible from orbit it expanded higher and wider. Brice Kellin stood in the forward observation lounge and watched the fires rage. He sipped his drink, a rare bourbon, the real alcoholic stuff that he kept in his quarters.
“Captain?”
He spun at the sound of the voice of his XO. “Kelso,” he said, with a nod.
“We’re cleared for departure,” Vanick said. “I’ve plotted a course for DS9. Rest of the fleet’s falling back to Bajor until Starfleet Engineering comes up with a countermeasure to the Breen weapon.”
Kellin downed the rest of his drink. “Go ahead.”
“Brice. What the hell did you do? We didn’t have orders to shell the base.”
Kellin didn’t meet his first officer’s eyes. “We had orders to keep our base out of Dominion hands.”
“That doesn’t include murdering Federation citizens,” Vanick snapped back.
“Your objection’s noted, Commander. Dismissed.”
Vanick turned for the door then turned back to face Kellin. “Brice, we’ve served together a long time; been friends for twenty years. You crossed over a line today. I wont’ let you do that again.”
Kellin turned his back on him and refilled his glass.
TEN MONTHS AGO:
“Sorry sir, we’ve been at it for twenty hours straight. Piller’s running his crew ragged, but there’s no way we’re going to make the launch window.”
Brice Kellin grabbed the arms of the chair in his ready room and raged in silence at his XO’s report. Saratoga had seen her share of action over the last eight weeks. Running convoy protection to Argolis had cost them the entire engine assembly of the starboard warp nacelle. The entire engine had been shattered to hell and crews from DS9 where they were currently docked were working around the clock to make the ship warp-ready again.
He spun his chair around and looked out the long narrow port at the vast fleet arrayed around DS9. The Federation Alliance would be launching at oh four hundred tomorrow morning for the endgame against Dominion forces at Cardassia Prime. And he’d be stuck her with a damaged warp drive. “Fine. Re-staff the engineering crews and put everyone back to their normal shifts. We’ll be staying here with rearguard duty in case things go badly at Cardassia.”
Vanick nodded, entering some notes into a padd. “Not a fun idea, is it?”
“What? Losing the war or being stuck back here?”
“Both,” Vanick said with a small grin. “How are you holding up, Brice? Since Tykon Two you’ve been pretty isolated.”
“I killed ten thousand Dominion troops and nearly a thousand Federation citizens in cold blood back there,” Kellin said. “And the thing is, I don’t regret it, and would do it again.”
Vanick looked taken aback. “That’s quite an admission, sir.”
“Not too pretty either,” Kellin said. “I’ve spent two decades in the service. This entire war has changed everything and everyone. I don’t see people any more, I just see targets to eliminate.”
Taking one of the empty seats across the captain’s desk, Vanick put the padd down and leaned forward. “Brice, you can’t think that way. That’s exactly what the enemy tries to do in war. Make the victims a faceless shadow; to give up your soul. Don’t let them beat you.”
“I’ll leave the soul searching and the moralizing to you, Commander.” Kellin picked up the padd Vanick had been using and handed it back to his first officer. “Take the bridge. Maintain yellow alert until further notice. Dismissed.”
“Brice-“
“Get out.”
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