CeJay,
Yeah, I guess Wo'toth's in a rough spot. I think he believed what he told Lurgan, but at the same time is forced to admit that he doesn't like the plan either. Despite his bluster he's too good a general to not want to take out an enemy when you get a chance. So he's torn. But of course he's going to do his duty.
*****************************************************************
Orbital Office Complex
Captain Sanjiv Aggarwal shook his head, a frown forming. He stood at the window, his back to the small gathering. The office’s port window was large, giving him a view of a great deal of the shipyard and the planet below. Work continued apace on the multitude of starships in their spacedocks. The men and women in their work bees went blithely about, not fully aware of the doom that could befall them at any moment. “Things are proceeding too slowly,” he surmised, as he watched the steady stream of Cochrane colonial transports arriving and leaving the planet. “When the Klingons attack there will still be too many people on the Aldebaran III.”
“Sanjiv it’s been over a month,” Captain M’Giia rejoined, “And they haven’t shown up yet.” Aggarwal turned back to look at his old shipmate. He regarded him with a humorless smile.
“Give them time Vadin,” Aggarwal dourly said. “In the meantime they are pillaging the sectors nearest here, adding them to their infernal Empire. It’s only a matter of time before they attack us.”
“I fear that you are correct Captain Aggarwal,” Administrator Darden shook her silvered head. “I’ve requested more transports, but UESPA’s resources are understandably stretched right now.”
M’Giia’s smile was sympathetic. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Aggarwal said darkly, not particularly concerned by the stricken look on Darden’s face. He had always believed that truth is the best medicine.
“It makes no sense for us to be cooling our thrusters when we could be helping save lives elsewhere.”
“And leave this planet defenseless?” M’Giia’s brow furrowed and his antennae curled. “It’s highly doubtful that Command would do that.”
“Command follows the dictates of the President and the Federation Council,” Aggarwal reminded his old friend. “If enough political pressure is placed on them then our orders will change.”
“And how do you know that?” M’Giia asked. Darden nodded intently, her gray eyes sharp.
“I have an associate on Admiral Hollings’s staff,” Aggarwal intimated. Darden crumpled. That didn’t stop the Rushmore captain. “And the admiral is desperate to hold the line against the Klingons.”
“That would seem to support the idea that he would want us to remain here,” M’Giia pointed out. Aggarwal shook his head.
“There is pressure to pull back to more defensible positions, to cut our losses.”
“‘Losses?’” Darden fumed. “We’re talking about sapient lives here. People have built homes here.”
“Yes,” M’Giia said, “and I can’t see Command leaving so many of our starships for the Klingons.”
“We could scuttle them, or as many as possible before the Klingons arrived,” Aggarwal said.
“And what of us? Would you leave civilians behind?” Darden pointed an accusatory finger at Aggarwal.
He didn’t shy away from the gesture. Instead he looked at the woman squarely. “If those were our orders,” he admitted. “And all of us would.”
“You would leave us to die?” The woman said softly, the realization of it nearly overwhelming her.
“If Command thought we could be have better use elsewhere, if we could help save even more lives, then my friend is correct,” M’Giia said, trying to soften the blow.
“My God,” Darden muttered. “If Starfleet can’t even defend its own space then perhaps we should surrender right now.”
Aggarwal glanced at M’Giia. The blue Andorian had an ashen pallor. He knew without asking that the Atlirith captain were sharing the same thought. What if Administrator Darden was right? The thought was unbearable, but it coiled like a snake in his mind. What if they should surrender?
*****************************************************************
IKS Q’prahS
Captain Knos handed the half-finished bottle of firewine to Woj. The surgeon grabbed it and sucked down the contents, dropping the bottle on the floor. He belched and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“More?” Woj asked.
Knos laughed as he got another bottle. He uncorked it and handed it to the grizzled old bone mender. “It’s that bad?”
“I’ve been stitching up your warriors for days,” Woj griped after taking a draught. “Beyond the usual. They are getting bored, and you know what happens when warriors can't do what they were bred for?”
“I understand,” Knos said, no longer smiling. He had noted the drop in efficiency on the bridge, and while he had ordered Rornan to administer the appropriate punishments, he could relate to the growing frustration.
The strike fleet was taking a circuitous route to the Aldebaran sector. He knew that his warriors had expected to join the larger Fifth Expeditionary Force and then come down on the shipyards like Morath’s fist. He wanted to be part of a big victory, something they would sing songs about, something he could tell the elders and anyone who would listen.
Instead the damnable So’Taj had taken over the mission and was threatening to steal his glory.
It was unacceptable. Knos let out his pent up rage, pulling his dagger from its holster and throwing it into the wall. The wall was scarred with countless knife marks.
“It’s getting to you too?” Woj laughed, but there was no mirth in it.
Knos stood up and stomped over to pick up his knife. He sorely wanted to stab something. “You might have to return to the medical bay,” Knos declared. “The fire in my blood is starting to grow.” He was thinking of finding some warrior in the training hall and loosening his anger.
“Ha,” Woj said. “Be sure not to take out your frustrations on Julok,” he laughed.
“I’ll make no promises,” Knos chuckled before he left Woj to his drink. He just hoped the sniveling Science Officer was the hapless one he would find.
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Yeah, I guess Wo'toth's in a rough spot. I think he believed what he told Lurgan, but at the same time is forced to admit that he doesn't like the plan either. Despite his bluster he's too good a general to not want to take out an enemy when you get a chance. So he's torn. But of course he's going to do his duty.
*****************************************************************
Orbital Office Complex
Captain Sanjiv Aggarwal shook his head, a frown forming. He stood at the window, his back to the small gathering. The office’s port window was large, giving him a view of a great deal of the shipyard and the planet below. Work continued apace on the multitude of starships in their spacedocks. The men and women in their work bees went blithely about, not fully aware of the doom that could befall them at any moment. “Things are proceeding too slowly,” he surmised, as he watched the steady stream of Cochrane colonial transports arriving and leaving the planet. “When the Klingons attack there will still be too many people on the Aldebaran III.”
“Sanjiv it’s been over a month,” Captain M’Giia rejoined, “And they haven’t shown up yet.” Aggarwal turned back to look at his old shipmate. He regarded him with a humorless smile.
“Give them time Vadin,” Aggarwal dourly said. “In the meantime they are pillaging the sectors nearest here, adding them to their infernal Empire. It’s only a matter of time before they attack us.”
“I fear that you are correct Captain Aggarwal,” Administrator Darden shook her silvered head. “I’ve requested more transports, but UESPA’s resources are understandably stretched right now.”
M’Giia’s smile was sympathetic. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Aggarwal said darkly, not particularly concerned by the stricken look on Darden’s face. He had always believed that truth is the best medicine.
“It makes no sense for us to be cooling our thrusters when we could be helping save lives elsewhere.”
“And leave this planet defenseless?” M’Giia’s brow furrowed and his antennae curled. “It’s highly doubtful that Command would do that.”
“Command follows the dictates of the President and the Federation Council,” Aggarwal reminded his old friend. “If enough political pressure is placed on them then our orders will change.”
“And how do you know that?” M’Giia asked. Darden nodded intently, her gray eyes sharp.
“I have an associate on Admiral Hollings’s staff,” Aggarwal intimated. Darden crumpled. That didn’t stop the Rushmore captain. “And the admiral is desperate to hold the line against the Klingons.”
“That would seem to support the idea that he would want us to remain here,” M’Giia pointed out. Aggarwal shook his head.
“There is pressure to pull back to more defensible positions, to cut our losses.”
“‘Losses?’” Darden fumed. “We’re talking about sapient lives here. People have built homes here.”
“Yes,” M’Giia said, “and I can’t see Command leaving so many of our starships for the Klingons.”
“We could scuttle them, or as many as possible before the Klingons arrived,” Aggarwal said.
“And what of us? Would you leave civilians behind?” Darden pointed an accusatory finger at Aggarwal.
He didn’t shy away from the gesture. Instead he looked at the woman squarely. “If those were our orders,” he admitted. “And all of us would.”
“You would leave us to die?” The woman said softly, the realization of it nearly overwhelming her.
“If Command thought we could be have better use elsewhere, if we could help save even more lives, then my friend is correct,” M’Giia said, trying to soften the blow.
“My God,” Darden muttered. “If Starfleet can’t even defend its own space then perhaps we should surrender right now.”
Aggarwal glanced at M’Giia. The blue Andorian had an ashen pallor. He knew without asking that the Atlirith captain were sharing the same thought. What if Administrator Darden was right? The thought was unbearable, but it coiled like a snake in his mind. What if they should surrender?
*****************************************************************
IKS Q’prahS
Captain Knos handed the half-finished bottle of firewine to Woj. The surgeon grabbed it and sucked down the contents, dropping the bottle on the floor. He belched and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“More?” Woj asked.
Knos laughed as he got another bottle. He uncorked it and handed it to the grizzled old bone mender. “It’s that bad?”
“I’ve been stitching up your warriors for days,” Woj griped after taking a draught. “Beyond the usual. They are getting bored, and you know what happens when warriors can't do what they were bred for?”
“I understand,” Knos said, no longer smiling. He had noted the drop in efficiency on the bridge, and while he had ordered Rornan to administer the appropriate punishments, he could relate to the growing frustration.
The strike fleet was taking a circuitous route to the Aldebaran sector. He knew that his warriors had expected to join the larger Fifth Expeditionary Force and then come down on the shipyards like Morath’s fist. He wanted to be part of a big victory, something they would sing songs about, something he could tell the elders and anyone who would listen.
Instead the damnable So’Taj had taken over the mission and was threatening to steal his glory.
It was unacceptable. Knos let out his pent up rage, pulling his dagger from its holster and throwing it into the wall. The wall was scarred with countless knife marks.
“It’s getting to you too?” Woj laughed, but there was no mirth in it.
Knos stood up and stomped over to pick up his knife. He sorely wanted to stab something. “You might have to return to the medical bay,” Knos declared. “The fire in my blood is starting to grow.” He was thinking of finding some warrior in the training hall and loosening his anger.
“Ha,” Woj said. “Be sure not to take out your frustrations on Julok,” he laughed.
“I’ll make no promises,” Knos chuckled before he left Woj to his drink. He just hoped the sniveling Science Officer was the hapless one he would find.
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