I.
Lt. Mack King was a “hero”. In the space of four days, he saved a Federation starship from destruction, captured a Klingon listening post, defeated a new D-7 battle cruiser, overcame a slave/pirate ship and saved nine members of Starfleet. This was the second most consequential day of his career.
Commodore Iveco’s surprise ceremony was totally unexpected, as was the press gathering after the event. The Starfleet press liaison, looking fresh from a quick trip out to Starbase 62, complimented Mack on his work.
“Nice job Lieutenant, you acted like you had been in front of cameras all your life.”
“Thank you, sir. I had good school teachers and prior experience.” The face of the hero had darkened considerably in the last few moments.
“Well, ah son, usually we send a special release out to places where a Medal of Honor recipient wants word to spread quickly. The Federation is a big place these days. Where would you like the releases to go?”
“Send one to Enterprise and one to Admiral Shareev Donomore, Commandant, Starfleet Academy.”
“Okay, we can do that. We also send one to your home planet. Where is your home, Lieutenant?”
“I’m sorry sir, that information is classified….”
II.
Ravenna IV was a “classic” Federation agricultural colony. The survey team did its work well, and the new planet immediately begun producing a great return on investment. The settlers developed a sustainable economy, and produced such an abundance of goods and services for other worlds it very quickly threw off outside support, and surprisingly became a candidate for full Federation membership. It was a model for peaceful development on the frontier.
John King was a 15-year old kid working in the family business on July day, shoveling out the animal barn. King Livestock enjoyed a planet-wide reputation for the quality of animals it sold, it stemmed from the great care it took with the breeding stock they nurtured. Part of the care was shoveling the barns, by hand, the old-fashioned way. John hated it with every bone in his body, but it had to be done before anything he wanted to do. “Some crap never changes”, he thought.
The barn communications link beeped.
John’s mom, Sandra, was on the line.
“Come quick, John!”
“Why mom?”
“You’ll see.”
“Bullford, I hate it when she does this.”
John saw his dad, Harry King, with a big smile on his face. While Harry King always had a smile on his face, John knew something big was up. His dad would never leave the store at this time of day.
“John, this is Mr. Wells, I hope you are having a good summer.” The school principal droned in his boring, professional voice. But then a little twinkle showed in his eye. “You have won the planet-wide school essay contest this year! Two weeks from today, you are to report at the Archerville spaceport for a tour of a Federation starship…”
“MOM! DAD! I won!!!!!” As his mom and dad hugged him, the shovel and barn faded away, for an hour or so.
Two weeks later, in his best flight suit, John King and his Mom and his Dad met Mr. Wells and a young man in a blue and black uniform at the spaceport.
Mr. Wells introduced Chief Warrant Officer Marcus Costa, of the starship Washington. While the Pyotr Velikiy class Washington was being fazed out of service, it made little difference to a 15 year old kid with eyes the size of impulse engine exhausts. Costa had the same eyes not so long ago.
“Okay John, just stand right here next to me for a moment…”
The transporter trip changed young John’s life forever.
The final years of schooling went by fast: The games, barn, classes, homework, the sales jobs, and the long conversation with his mom and dad over many dinners reached a pinnacle in one major event. The now 17 year old wrestling champion got a trip to Starbase 6 with his parents. But the trip was not for wrestling. He was the first citizen of Ravenna IV to even try to apply for a slot in Starfleet Academy. The examination room was filled. Breakfast tried to escape John’s stomach more than once. Somehow he held it down. That was the first challenge; did he make it through the second one?
Graduation Day was a planet-wide holiday for its 100,000 settlers. The planetary government understood quite well (though most people on the planet doubted it), the future of their world rested on their children. School was hard; very hard, very demanding. The standards changed for no one. Those standards made Graduation Day a holiday; it was a celebration of the future.
At Mendel Memorial Finishing School the honors had been given, speeches had been completed, but there was still a buzz in the room. The president of the planetary Senate, a tall, powerfully built man, had traveled half way across the planet to be at this event. No one knew why. In fact, nobody knew he was coming until he walked through the doors. His name was not on the program, that fact alone would make Mr. Wells’ stomach turn.
Sam Feder was not the area’s Senator, Joline Hyder was. This was not a campaign stop, it was too important to the planet. A local news crew heard about his visit, the vid was running a close-up on Sen. Feder at the podium. The vid crew knew the Senator’s office tipped the local station to be there, and carry the feed to the planetary network.
“Ladies and gentlemen, honored graduates. Your butts are already numb, and you need to hear no more politicians’ today. The room is hot enough.
I am here today to represent our planetary government with an announcement that matters greatly to all of us on this planet. Last evening, the President’s Office took a message from Earth, from the Office of the President of the Federation Council.” Eyes and ears rose all over the room.
“I have the pleasure to announce that one of your graduates today, Mr. John Abraham King, has been accepted to Starfleet Academy beginning the next term…”
Complete pandemonium ensued, the graduation exercises never really ended, and the party never really stopped. Many more people than Sandra King cried tears of joy that day, and Harry King never grinned so much in his life.
Sally Madaly, John, Sandra, and Harry sat around the dinner table. Sally had graduated with John, and the two had become even more inseparable as a couple since Graduation Day. Love, kisses and promises surrounded them like any young kids in love on a hundred worlds, and on Ravenna, they tended to grow deep roots into the planet like the crops did. Will these promises survive Starfleet Academy was another question; but like so many others, it would wait for another day.
“Mom and Dad, Archerville Control sent out the latest departure schedule today. We need to talk.”
“Sure son.” replied Harry.
“Well, the Mohican is still on schedule to be here two weeks from today. They also said a Starfleet cutter is visiting the 3rd.”
“I know you want to go son, but I sure could use you on the 5th for the sale.”
“Harry, he wants to go, maybe those extra days there will help him adjust.”
“Why does he need to adjust Sandy.”
Sandra started to reply, but John interrupted.
“Dad, it’s up to you, I’ll stay if you need me. Leaving on a Starfleet ship is nice, but” as he squeezed Sally’s hand, “I won’t mind staying either.”
III.
Commander H.E. Kimmel spent 20 years in Starfleet, the last 6 months as Operations officer on Starbase 6. The paperwork had overwhelmed him since he got on board; his predecessor on post did more skirt chasing than completing reports. The Chief Engineer’s supply database had been two months behind when he arrived. Finally, his staff got it caught up to date and he could rest. He had calmed the savage beast in the Starbase commander’s office.
A flashing red light interrupted his coffee break, he had programmed his desk computer to route situation reports and G2 flashes to the top of the report list. They demanded his attention first, even more than fuel supply spreadsheets.
Four reports demanded immediate attention: Revised Klingon Ship Movements and Dispositions, Sector G2 Irregular Force Incursions, Interior Starbase Defense Plan Revisions, Sector Shipping Navigation Hazards.
Kimmel looked over the reports. Skimming the Executive summary of each report, he carefully determined the proper office each need to go to. He routed the Defense plan document to the Starbase commander. Hazards report to the Harbomaster for uploading to all ships. He kept the Klingon ship movement report, and cc’d the Incursion report to his G2 staff officer, Lieutenant Kermit Tyler.
Lieutanent Tyler looked over the Executive Summary the next day. He then “flushed” it after skimming the first couple of pages.
IV.
It was August 1st, John flew Sally home for the evening. Harry King met him at the front porch. John noticed the tear in his eye immediately.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“Well son, I just don’t want to let you go.” With a big hug, he said: “but it’s time. Your future is Starfleet, you might as well find out if you like it sooner rather than later.”
“You mean I can leave on the 3rd?”
“Yes, son. I can handle the sale, Sally volunteered to help. She looks better than you anyway.”
Two days later, 1300 hours, from Archerville Spaceport, Cadet John King, hugged Sandra and Harry, kissed Sally forever (it seemed), and beamed up to the Starfleet cutter Flynn.
V.
John got treated like royalty on Flynn. He got a tour of the Bridge, sat in on a day shift with Commander Astrul, one of those funny looking Andorians, ate the worst food ever created from the cutter’s food synthesizers, and talked for hours with the enlisted crew and the few officers on board. Two weeks later, and two weeks early, he reported to Starfleet Academy on Earth.
John thought Warp Theory 101 tough. Basic Physical Defense training drove him crazy. His partner was a Vulcan, John couldn’t beat him. After losing another hand-to-hand contest, class stopped.
“CADET KING.”
‘SIR, CADET KING, SIR.”
“Report to the Commandant’s Office on the double, King. As you are.”
“AYE, SIR.”
That’s the first time she’s not shouted, thought John. “What’s up with that?”
Commodore Shareev Donomore was from Alpha Centauri. John always seemed to think he had a scowl on their face. Now there was something worse on his face as he entered the office. It was the same for the other five Starfleet officers in the room, all looking at him.
“Cadet King reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Sit down, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Cadet King got very uncomfortable, very quickly; Commandant Donomore cleared his throat. Fear crept into John’s eyes when the Commodore’s eyes met his.
“Cadet, you are about to learn a lesson every Starfleet officer has to learn. And damn it, I don’t know how to teach it. What is your home planet?”
“Ravenna Four, Sector 61 G, sir.”
A Captain Reynolds quietly spoke. “Cadet, there has been a recent upsurge in Orion activity across our frontiers. Do you know who Orions are?”
“Vaguely, sir.”
“Orions are the scum of the universe Cadet,” cut in Commandant Donomore. “Never forget it.”
“On Stardate 1388.6 an Orion raiding party entered into Federation space. While it was noted, Starfleet in that area did not respond to it.”
A different voice spoke: “Don’t lie to him Reynolds; Kimmel and Tyler screwed up.”
“God, that’s August 4th at home.”
Donomore broke in: “Son, this is what we know. The Orions approached Ravenna IV. Ravenna set out a distress call to Starbase 6, saying the Orions wanted to “trade” for some females. When your people refused, a firefight started. Your people killed off the raiding party. Then, the main Orion ship attacked the planet from orbit. Here is the last transmission, August 6th, planet time: “… We need help Commander Kimmel, but it is better to die free than live as slaves…”
Oh no. “Sir, nobody made it?”
Reynolds looked at John King hard. “When USS Washington arrived the Orions had left. Cadet, there were no survivors. What records remained suggest they nuked the planet, and sent death squads down to finish off the survivors. There are many Orion carcasses left there, but no….”
At that point, Cadet John King heard, or remembered no more.
VI.
During the break between semesters, John sold what things he owned to return to Starbase 6. John never lost another hand-to-hand with the Vulcan, or anyone else (instructors included). He also swore an oath to make sure Kimmel and Tyler died slowly as he told them about Mom, Dad, Sally, and his home.
He never told anyone his plans; he didn’t know Commodore Shareev Donomore. The Academy commandant carried a scowl, but he knew his people, and more importantly he loved his students under his charge. He believed with all his soul only the best of the best made it to his care at the Academy. He also swore no cadet would destroy his future and value to Starfleet on his watch. An inquiry or two, a passenger manifest check, and a subspace talk with an old friend on Starbase 6 later, John King found out how Starfleet took care of its own.
As a young tactician, John understood that knowing the combat environment was an advantage. Plans for Starbase 6 and his transport were in the public domain, he studied them hard. He noticed there were two exits off the transport; the passenger walkway, and the crew walkway.
The crew/maintenance walkway led into the guts of the station, where John found several ways to infiltrate the station’s offices. The base was not on alert; Getting in was easy, getting out really didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be noticed; carrying only a small bag, he passed for a lost passenger looking for luggage.
One hour after the transport had docked with the Starbase, John wondered through the passenger compartments, a maintenance ladder, avoided two crewmen on duty, then headed down the maintenance exit. Covering both corners, he stepped into the bay.
John almost got away with it.
“CADET KING. HALT. DROP THE BAG.”
Two figures stepped in front of him as he obeyed and stood to attention.
“Well done Cadet King,” barked out Commander Sommell al-Astrul of the cutter Flynn. “Were it not for the chief here, you might have gotten in trouble. But he knows the Starbase better than you do. Cadet, did you lose your luggage?”
“SIR, NO SIR!” John replied in his strongest voice, as it started to crack.
Chief Warrant Officer Marcus Costa of Washington put his arms out to John, and said “They are gone son.”
Cadet John King broke down for the second time, finally the healing began.
VII.
John heard the story over “coffee” in the Starbase office. It John’s first foray into “medicinal coffee”; his eyes were opened to what Starfleet and her people really were.
Kimmel and Tyler were bound over for Courts-martial for Dereliction of Duty. The ignored report contained warnings about the Orions, and their likely target. The local Starfleet assets were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Kimmel left Ravenna hanging, in spite of strict instructions by Command to assure Ravenna was covered. That’s why Flynn was at Ravenna in the first place, even though it was overdue for an overhaul.
Flynn left and Washington was too far away to respond when the Orions hit.
Both officers were later tried, convicted, and drummed out of the service. Kimmel served time in a Starfleet minimum-security stockade. Following an ancient Earth tradition for multiple offenses, Tyler was stripped of his rank in a public ceremony on the grounds of Starfleet Command. He then disappeared.
Cadet John King was the only survivor of Ravenna IV.
No one had bothered to hold a memorial service for the people of Ravenna. But when John King came to the station, they did one for him. The memorial service was meant to only be a small gathering of a few Starfleet officers and John King.
But many people on the Starbase and all over the sector knew people on Ravenna. The overflow crowd forced the service out onto the main plaza of Starbase 6. There John King had a thousand new friends. And in one last act of remembrance, the commanding officer of Washington stood in front of the crowd, looked at his Cadet in the front row, and said:
“Cadet King, I swear to you, never again will this happen.”
Cadet King shocked everyone and stood up: “Captain, I swear, never again!”
Then the mass of Starfleet in attendance stood as one: “NEVER AGAIN.”
VIII
Command had one problem with Cadet King and Ravenna, a political firestorm was brewing. If a planet like Ravenna could not be protected, how could any frontier world be safe?
Before things got too public, Ravenna IV was labeled “top secret”. Cadet King was instructed on his return to Earth to say nothing about his home world. The price of his Starfleet commission was his silence. It was removed from his personal file, and only certain officers with a high enough clearance knew where he came from.
Ravenna rapidly became forgotten; the Federation expanded by leaps and bounds, many Starfleet personnel and many, many more Orions died before the outlaws found easier hunting grounds.
There was one person who never forgot Ravenna, and in his mind, Lieutenant John Abraham “Mack” King took home to his heart forever. It was all he had. His life became a testament to what Ravenna stood for, for everything good about the Federation. Every morning he woke up and said “never again.”
The award on his chest told him he was successful for at least one day.
