Star Trek: Yorktown #1 - Trials of War
- Thread starter Rat Boy
- Start date
Well, we knew this was going to happen. But very interesting to see this from the perspective of those most affected by the Organian's interference. And while one could argue that they had no right to do what they did, at least not on that scale, you can't argue with the results of their actions and the millions of casualties they may have avoided as a result.
Twenty-Five
Starfleet Headquarters
San Francisco, Earth
Even three days following the end of the war, Jonas Leland was having a hard time wrapping his head around how it came to an abrupt end. The Organians, a seemingly primitive civilization teetering on the brink of stagnation, were in fact an advanced, god-like species with the power to halt entire space fleets. That they found the concept of war among lesser races like humanity and the Klingons so appalling, they felt compelled to intervene. In spite of his disbelief, it had indeed happened; he saw it first hand. That didn’t mean it sat well with the CSO and he was tempted to grab another cigar from his desk humidor to smoke in order to relieve the aggravation he was feeling.
“My fellow Federation citizens,” said President Hawthorne, who was conducting a live subspace address at the Federation Council building to the entire Federation that was being fed into Leland’s desk monitor. “These are historic times we’re living in. Seventy-two hours ago, our civilization and that of the Klingon Empire were on the verge of annihilating each other. Star fleets from both powers were about to wage horrific battle in the skies above Organia if not for something truly remarkable.”
“Remarkable my ass,” Leland remarked to himself. He also found it not too surprising that the president, a man who a little over three days ago seemed broken and defeated, now seemed to be completely renewed and reenergized. Of course, the admiral thought, the war was something he was going out of his way to avoid. Once the realization of what was occurring hit him days ago, it seemed as if Hawthorne had been punched in the groin. With the Organians essentially bailing him out, it was if he had found new life.
“Earlier today, I and my counterpart, the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council, signed via subspace the Treaty of Organia; an agreement brokered by the Organian people that will hopefully lead to lasting peace between us. The regions of space in dispute between the Federation and the Klingon Empire shall be encapsulated within a new Neutral Zone. Both parties will have the opportunity to settle unclaimed worlds; whichever side can demonstrate who can most efficiently develop those planets will be awarded sole stewardship of them by neutral arbitration.”
Leland snorted in contempt. He had already been read into the specifics of the new treaty that Ayelborne and his cronies crammed down their throats and he didn’t like them one bit. Although called a Neutral Zone, it was by no means as secure as the one buffering the territories of the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire. Ships from both Starfleet and the Klingon Imperial Fleet were still given free access to the zone; the only thing the treaty really banned was the establishment of military outposts in the Neutral Zone. Each side was granted rights to the other’s shore leave facilities. And the aforementioned arbitration would ostensibly be carried out by dignitaries from Ramatis III and Trillius Prime; species that could conceivably be bought off by either side. As Ayelborne claimed when he appeared in Starfleet Headquarters, the Organians refused to deal with the two parties any further; any further attempts to approach their planet had been banned by the treaty.
“We look forward to competing with the Empire in a spirited though non-violent competitive process,” the president continued, “and while some will call this treaty an imperfect solution, it is far preferable to the alternative. Both the Federation and the Empire have looked over a devastating precipice; sadly, we were not wise enough to realize that until the Organians showed us just what we were getting into. One of the great tragedies of this conflict was that it took an outside entity to show us how foolish we really were. I say to you that we must learn the lesson of this past week and press onward towards a lasting peace with the Klingon Empire. I pledge to you that the Federation is fully committed to seeing this through, that a bright future is possible for ourselves and our children. There will be peace in our time. Thank you, and may the United Federation of Planets continue to endure.”
With a skeptical guffaw, the admiral shut off his monitor. “Peace in our time?” Famous last words, Al. Leland had already voiced his objections and concerns in a memo he had forwarded to other top admirals in Starfleet Command, though he had yet to hear back from them. Hawthorne was delusional; there was no way in hell that the Klingon Empire would abide by the new treaty anymore than they abided by the cease fire after Donatu. Leland knew the Klingons all too well. They wouldn’t view what happened as a miracle like those of the president’s ilk were doing right now; they’d view it as yet another defeat. The Empire spent the last twenty plus years getting ready to avenge Donatu; Leland doubted they’d wait that long to avenge Organia.
Reaching finally for his humidor, Leland’s intercom buzzed. He pressed the appropriate control and Yeoman Chambers announced, “Sir, Admiral Barnett is here to see you.”
“Send him in,” he replied as he straightened out his uniform tunic. The CSO hadn’t seen the CINC since Ayelborne’s appearance in the ops center, but Barnett was one of the recipients of Leland’s memorandum. He didn’t doubt that his boss would have a bone to pick with him in light of what he said concerning the new status quo.
Barnett entered and after Leland snapped to attention, the fleet admiral waved his hand downward to tell him to relax. The CSO sat down as his superior officer approached his desk. He immediately asked, “I trust you’ve seen the president’s speech?”
“You probably know what I have to say about it, Rich,” Leland remarked, of course indicating the message he had previously forwarded throughout the admiralty.
“And you’ve stirred up quite a hornet’s nest, and frankly there are many who agree with you. Some people think we shouldn’t have signed the treaty in the first place without a lot of changes, if the Organians would have allowed it.”
“It’s a load of bullshit. Putting every planet in the old disputed zone up for grabs, allowing ships from both sides free access to both sides of the new Neutral Zone. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Why are you so convinced that the Empire will break the treaty?” Barnett asked.
“Because I know them, Rich,” Leland said as he got up to pour himself a drink. “We negotiated a cease fire in good faith with them after Donatu and they conspired to go to war again. They’re not going to see what the Organians did as an act of God or gods like the president does. They’re going to see it as yet another roadblock to their conquest of the galaxy!”
“You want to know something? I think you’re right, to a point. Those people, both in Starfleet and on the council, who agree with you won’t say anything because of current policy coming out of the president’s office.”
“Then I guess we’re screwed, aren’t we?” Leland asked pessimistically.
“Not necessarily. At the close of business today, I will submit my resignation to President Hawthorne and Prime Minister Solheim. And I’m recommending you to replace me.”
“What?!” He set his glass down violently before he could drink from it upon the news in stark disbelief. “You can’t be serious, Rich.”
“I am serious,” Barnett countered firmly. “I’ve held this post for the last two years; my only accomplishments are an aborted attempt to explore past the edge of the galaxy and an aborted war with the Klingons. I’ve done my best and I’ve come up short every time. Like I said, you’re right; the Empire’s going to do its damndest to circumvent the treaty and I’m not the one who can stop them. You on the other hand are and I said as much in my resignation letter.”
“But…”
“Jonas, you’ve been right all this time. Starfleet should have done more to counter the Klingon threat. The Organians ended the war, but not before we lost eight ships and over five thousand lives. And your analysis is spot on; they’re going to do whatever they can wherever they can to thwart our efforts in the Neutral Zone. I can’t handle this, but you can. This is what you were born to do. I had my shot at this, but I failed miserably.”
“I’m not a bureaucrat, Rich!” Leland protested.
“No one’s asking you to be one, Jonas,” Barnett countered evenly. “What Starfleet needs right now is strong leadership, something that I cannot provide anymore, but I know you can. The people on the council…they’re going to fight you tooth and nail, but I can’t think of any other person who’ll go to the mat for Starfleet and the Federation like you can.”
“I’m…” the prospective CINC sputtered. “I’m honored, sir.”
His superior grinned widely. “Don’t be so quick to thank me! You still have to survive confirmation hearings from the Earth Parliament and the Federation Council and I bet you’ll reconsider the whole thing once you’ve walked a kilometer in my shoes. See you for the next Principles Meeting, Jonas.”
“Rich.” As Barnett left, Leland slowly walked back to his desk and fell back into his chair. He obviously wasn’t expecting the CINC to hand him control over all of Starfleet, least of all in spite of the numerous times they butted heads over how it should be run. For twenty-two years, Leland had his own opinion on what Starfleet should do and much to his obvious surprise he finally had a chance to do what he thought should have been done for years. Tiredly, he smacked his intercom control. “Ms. Chambers? Send Commander Nelson in.”
“Aye sir.” His aide promptly arrived and stood at attention in front of the admiral’s desk. “Is there something you need, sir?”
“I’m afraid I have good news and bad news,” Leland replied. “The good news is that you’re in line for a promotion to full commander. The bad news is that it’s because I’ve been nominated for one, too.”
“Sir?”
“Barnett’s turning in his resignation in the next few hours; he’s named me as his heir apparent.”
“Con…” Nelson said in disbelief. “Congratulations, sir. You deserve it.”
“All the headaches and blood-pressure that comes with running all of Starfleet?” the admiral asked. “Your belief that I deserve an express ticket to an early grave is very touching, kid.”
“No, no, no, sir, that’s not…!”
“Relax, Nelson; I’m just pulling your leg. Now, assuming for a moment that I survive the inquest run by those blowhards in the Earth and Federation governments, we’re going to need a bigger staff around here. I’m not faulting your skills; it’s just that with the added crap I’m going to have to deal with, I think it’s unfair to have to dump it all on your lap.”
“I understand sir,” Nelson said eagerly. “I’ll draw up a list of potential candidates for new staff positions.”
“Good,” Leland said as he reactivated his monitor. “Now, we’re going to need a replacement for me as CSO and I seem to recall you mentioning something about expanding Starfleet’s non-human enrollment a few days ago…”
“If you want, sir, I can have proposals for all that on your desk first thing in the morning.”
“I…” The soon-to-be-CINC stopped short when he realized he was pushing more than he needed to. “Save it; all that can wait until after they say I can have this job. In the meantime, go home to that wife of yours.”
“I will sir,” Nelson said. “And once again, congratulations, Admiral.”
Leland harrumphed as his aide quickly exited the office. He was hard pressed to consider this an honor; despite of what Barnett said, the admiral felt completely out of his league. He didn’t feel he had a feel for the politics inherent for the role of CINC, let alone the patience for it. After what happened during the war, how in the hell could Rich think I’m ready for this? Leland didn’t know, but he now felt honor-bound to at least try to validate the faith Barnett showed in him. Since he was practically a raw cadet, the admiral had criticized what the top brass had done. Now that he had a hand in shaping future Federation and Starfleet policy, he prayed that he wouldn’t screw it up…
(Continued below...)
1044 North Maple Street
San Francisco, Earth
To someone who had never extensively explored San Francisco, let alone been to the city that was the crown jewel of the Bay Area, the address listed above would not attract attention. However, in fact, it was a non-existent location; there was no North Maple Street in San Francisco. The actual Maple Street didn’t even extend as far as the fictitious location, ending with the 400 block where it met with California Street and transitioned to Parker Avenue near the site of an old hospital. But, both the real and illusionary Maple Streets bordered along the centuries-old Presidio, current home to the Federation’s Starfleet and the fog-enshrouded alley made for a perfect location for clandestine rendezvous’. It was a fictitious setting for a meeting with someone one might not even have believed existed unless Alexander Nelson hadn’t seen him with his own eyes.
He had come here straight from the office, excited by what Leland had told him from his being nominated to succeed Barnett to Nelson’s promotion to full commander. He dug his hands beneath the armpits of his uniform, trying to keep them warm; if he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have remembered to bring a jacket. But, with the whirlwind developments over the past few days, Nelson had a lot on his mind.
“I thought I told you to only show up here in civilian clothes,” said a voice belonging to a man whom emerged from the shadows as if he had been hiding there unseen this whole time. He was around the same age as Admiral Leland, with a bald scalp bordered by white hair. For whatever reason, he always wore the same black leather wrap-around jacket as if for him it was his uniform. That wasn’t the only mystery about him. Even the name he had given Nelson, Connor, revealed only so much.
“Sorry, but I had to get in touch with you right away,” he replied. “Admiral Barnett’s stepping down and he’s nominated Admiral Leland to replace him.”
“Not entirely unexpected,” Connor said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He said he worked for a private think-tank that analyzed intelligence and recommended policies to those in power; which one, he hadn’t said in order to protect the both of them from any legal hassles. Considering Nelson’s position as aide to Admiral Leland, he was privy to a considerable amount of classified information and he occasionally swapped intel with Connor’s group. “Barnett’s a bureaucrat, not a soldier; a follower, not a leader. Thankfully he’s finally come to his senses and realized that Starfleet needs someone better than him at the helm. How is Leland dealing with this?”
“He’s surprised, maybe even intimidated. Still, I think he’s the right man for the job. He proved that during the war.”
“We agree. Leland’s policies are precisely what the Federation needs at a time like this. The Organian intervention has merely delayed the inevitable.”
“Have you received any new intelligence?” It was in fact Connor and his group who had informed Nelson of the Klingons’ interest in the planet, which triggered the deployment of the Carson. If it had not been for them, Starfleet would not have been able to mobilize as it had and this war might have taken a far worse turn, but Nelson wasn’t sure if he liked the price that had been paid.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss it with you yet until we believe you have a need to know. For now, all chatter seems to indicate that the Klingons are willing to abide by the terms of the new treaty. They took heavy losses during the war, far more than their projections said they would have even for as short as the war lasted. We completely caught them off guard with our tenacity and it’s going to be some time before they start any military trouble, but this we do know for certain. The moment abiding by the treaty stops being advantageous for them, that’s when the next war will start. Now your boss is in a better position to do something about it.”
“Right,” Nelson said uneasily. They just got through one war; now Connor and his people were getting ready for another one and the same frustration he had felt since the beginning of the war cropped up again. “And who gets sacrificed this time?”
“I beg your pardon?” Connor asked.
“We sent the Carson to the Sygos system based on the intelligence you gave us! Almost two hundred people died; did you convince us to send them in there just to be killed, just to provide us a reason to go to war?!”
His contact’s expression didn’t change after Nelson’s outburst. He walked over to a concrete wall and leaned up against it. “It was Admiral Leland who ordered the Carson there, not us. The Klingons destroyed that ship, not us. We gave you the intelligence on Organia; you were the ones who decided to act upon it. You should be thanking us for giving you the heads up, not condemning us. If we didn’t give you the advanced warning, this war might have ended a lot differently. The Carson’s loss is a tragedy as is every life lost in the war, but it probably saved a lot more than the five thousand lives who died at the hands of the Klingons. If you still can’t sleep at night because of this, then I suggest you find another line of work.”
“Why me?!” Nelson asked loudly, not caring if his voice carried throughout the Bay Area. “Why did you get me dragged into this?!”
“Because you have access that we do not have,” Connor said evenly. “You’ll soon have the ear of Commander, Starfleet; you’ll be in every important closed-door meeting with Starfleet Command, the Federation Council, and the president himself. We have sources in a lot of places, but none within the upper echelons of the government. We also approached you because you think as we do; that the Federation needs to be defended and not everyone believes that should it be to the extent that you and I do.”
“So why the secrecy? Why not go to Admiral Leland directly? He agrees with you! He thinks that the Federation’s grossly unprepared for a war with the Klingons.”
“Let’s just say that we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Besides, dealing directly with the prospective CINC would bring up…issues.” Before Nelson could press further, the communicator on his belt chirped. “I would imagine that’s your wife. You really should learn how to balance your time better.”
Angrily, he glanced down and removed the communicator, but when he looked up and flipped it open, Connor was gone. Nelson looked around the meeting place and found no trace of him. His contact seemed to have the odd habit of vanishing into thin air whenever he wanted to. Just who the hell are these people?
“Alex?” his wife Taylor asked when he didn’t say anything right away. “Are you there? Hello?”
“I’m here,” he replied.
“Where are you? I thought you were leaving the office.”
“Just got held up a little. You know, how about we meet at the Loft for dinner? My treat.”
“Must be important,” she joked. “I know for sure it’s not our anniversary.”
“Let’s just say I have some news,” he said cryptically, indicating the promotion that Admiral Leland told Nelson he would be receiving.
“All right. I can be there in ten minutes.”
“See you then.” Nelson flipped the communicator shut and started to walk out of the alley with a determined stride. When he entered into this arrangement with Connor, he had done so hoping that he could take advantage of a new source of information that’d help him and Leland in their jobs of defending the Federation. After what his contact had just said, after how he seemed to casually dismiss the loss of the Carson as a necessary sacrifice, now he was not so sure…
USS Yorktown
Sector 020
With trepidation, Juliet Okefor made her way down to the lower cargo bay, which had been turned into a makeshift funeral home for the remains of the twelve members of the crew who had perished (the other three had as per their wishes been buried in space) and who’d soon be put on a transport for their final trip home. As executive officer, it had fallen to her to make the arrangements. Not that there was much else to do; until Starfleet cut the Yorktown new orders, they had been told to “take it easy” while the rest of the fleet that had entered the Organian system dispersed to other assignments.
She entered and immediately stopped short when she found Mason in the cargo bay standing in what appeared to be silent vigil over the caskets, each with a blue Federation flag draped over them. The captain turned to her and she immediately said, “I’m sorry, I can come back…”
“It’s all right,” Mason stated. “What brings you down here?”
“The Al Rashid will rendezvous with us in an hour,” Okefor replied, referring to the transport ship that the dead would be loaded onto. “Just wanted to make sure everything down here was ready.”
“I see. How are you holding up?”
She walked up to stand next to him. “Well, sir. Relieved, I suppose.”
“That the war’s over?” he asked.
“Of course,” she answered. “Aren’t you?”
“I…don’t really know.” That was a prevalent feeling throughout the Yorktown, based on Okefor’s read of the ship’s crew. Some, like Hall, were furious that the Organians interfered, stating that they had no business getting involved in other species’ affairs. Others were thankful that they did since they feared that they might not survive the battle against the Klingon fleet. Okefor was merely pleased that this insanity had been stopped before it could spread throughout the quadrant. “Something about all this…doesn’t feel right.”
“You don’t approve of what the Organians did?” There had been some talk about the ethical implications of their intervention; if the Federation had forced an end to a war between two primitive nations by using its advanced technology, it’d be a gross violation of the Prime Directive of Non-Interference. Okefor believed in the principles of the Prime Directive, but if the Organians had a similar protocol, then the XO didn’t mind that they decided to bend the rules this time.
“I don’t know why they didn’t do it sooner,” Mason remarked as he walked up to one of the caskets and placed his hand on it. “Eight ships destroyed, over five thousand lives lost on our side and a hell of a lot more for the Klingons. They said they did this to prevent people from dying, but it was too late for our people here.”
“This couldn’t have been an easy decision for them, sir,” Okefor pointed out. “They said they disliked interfering in the affairs of others. It took our fleets bringing the war to their world to finally push them into intervening.”
With a wide gesture to the caskets, he countered. “Small comfort it is to them.” Sighing, he started to circle around them, though Okefor remained in place. “If we hadn’t run into the Mek’leth a second time, most of these people here would still be alive. A half a day and they’d all still be here. How many lives in this war could the Organians’ have saved if they intervened an hour earlier? A week? This is beyond them playing peacemaker; they played God. In an instant, they radically altered the fate of this quadrant and I’m not entirely sure it’s for the better.”
“But sir, the peace treaty, finally resolving the disputed zone. This could be the beginning of a détente with the Empire.”
“Or it could just end up being another cold war,” Mason countered, “and cold wars only end in one of two ways: peace or more war. And next time the Organians won’t get involved.”
“You think there will be a next one?” Okefor asked. She had her fill of war for one lifetime. She didn’t want to even think about possibly going through another experience like that twenty years from now or even sooner.
“We managed to negotiate a cease fire with the Klingons over twenty years ago,” Mason said, “look how well that worked out. Considering the Empire’s past inability to stick to peace, we could be doing this all over again.”
“I…” she started to say. “I don’t think we should look at it that way, sir. We should give this peace a chance and not assume the Klingons will try to violate it right away. After all, history has shown us that more often than not, war is triggered by the escalation of tensions by both parties.”
“Considering what we just went through…” He gestured once more to the caskets. “I think a little caution is warranted. Sun Tzu once said, ‘In peace prepare for war, in war prepare for peace.’”
“Winston Churchill also said, ‘In peace: goodwill,’” quoted Okefor.
“I believe he also said, ‘In war: resolution,’” added Mason before letting out another sigh. “But I hope you’re right, Commander. I don’t want to think about what could happen if you’re wrong. Let’s get out of here; I doubt the dead enjoy hearing us argue.”
They started to leave the cargo bay, but the captain suddenly stopped, which caused Okefor to, as well. Mason snapped his boot heels together and spun in place to face the caskets; his boots squeaking on the deck as he did. He sharply brought his flat right palm to his brow with his elbow pointed outward. A military salute to the fallen, archaic in the days of Starfleet, but a gesture still regarded as one of respect even in the 23rd Century.
Once more, Okefor she had misjudged Mason all along. She had initially assumed that like Hall, the captain had a militaristic bent that clashed with what she believed the ideals of Starfleet to believe. Mason wasn’t a pessimist or warlike; he was a pragmatist weathered by decades of seeing the very worst of the deep space had to offer. He didn’t crave conflict; he feared it and its consequences just as much as she did. The captain was appalled at the loss of life, be it Federation or Klingon. The only difference between them was that experience had taught him to expect the worse, whereas she continued to hope for the best.
Mason lowered his hand and calmly led Okefor out of the cargo bay. As they walked side-by-side down the corridor, he said, “You know, I was in a situation similar to what the Organians must have gone through back when I was XO of the Hannibal. A survey vessel had crash landed on Volos IV, right in the middle of two warring factions. When we beamed down we…”
San Francisco, Earth
To someone who had never extensively explored San Francisco, let alone been to the city that was the crown jewel of the Bay Area, the address listed above would not attract attention. However, in fact, it was a non-existent location; there was no North Maple Street in San Francisco. The actual Maple Street didn’t even extend as far as the fictitious location, ending with the 400 block where it met with California Street and transitioned to Parker Avenue near the site of an old hospital. But, both the real and illusionary Maple Streets bordered along the centuries-old Presidio, current home to the Federation’s Starfleet and the fog-enshrouded alley made for a perfect location for clandestine rendezvous’. It was a fictitious setting for a meeting with someone one might not even have believed existed unless Alexander Nelson hadn’t seen him with his own eyes.
He had come here straight from the office, excited by what Leland had told him from his being nominated to succeed Barnett to Nelson’s promotion to full commander. He dug his hands beneath the armpits of his uniform, trying to keep them warm; if he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have remembered to bring a jacket. But, with the whirlwind developments over the past few days, Nelson had a lot on his mind.
“I thought I told you to only show up here in civilian clothes,” said a voice belonging to a man whom emerged from the shadows as if he had been hiding there unseen this whole time. He was around the same age as Admiral Leland, with a bald scalp bordered by white hair. For whatever reason, he always wore the same black leather wrap-around jacket as if for him it was his uniform. That wasn’t the only mystery about him. Even the name he had given Nelson, Connor, revealed only so much.
“Sorry, but I had to get in touch with you right away,” he replied. “Admiral Barnett’s stepping down and he’s nominated Admiral Leland to replace him.”
“Not entirely unexpected,” Connor said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He said he worked for a private think-tank that analyzed intelligence and recommended policies to those in power; which one, he hadn’t said in order to protect the both of them from any legal hassles. Considering Nelson’s position as aide to Admiral Leland, he was privy to a considerable amount of classified information and he occasionally swapped intel with Connor’s group. “Barnett’s a bureaucrat, not a soldier; a follower, not a leader. Thankfully he’s finally come to his senses and realized that Starfleet needs someone better than him at the helm. How is Leland dealing with this?”
“He’s surprised, maybe even intimidated. Still, I think he’s the right man for the job. He proved that during the war.”
“We agree. Leland’s policies are precisely what the Federation needs at a time like this. The Organian intervention has merely delayed the inevitable.”
“Have you received any new intelligence?” It was in fact Connor and his group who had informed Nelson of the Klingons’ interest in the planet, which triggered the deployment of the Carson. If it had not been for them, Starfleet would not have been able to mobilize as it had and this war might have taken a far worse turn, but Nelson wasn’t sure if he liked the price that had been paid.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss it with you yet until we believe you have a need to know. For now, all chatter seems to indicate that the Klingons are willing to abide by the terms of the new treaty. They took heavy losses during the war, far more than their projections said they would have even for as short as the war lasted. We completely caught them off guard with our tenacity and it’s going to be some time before they start any military trouble, but this we do know for certain. The moment abiding by the treaty stops being advantageous for them, that’s when the next war will start. Now your boss is in a better position to do something about it.”
“Right,” Nelson said uneasily. They just got through one war; now Connor and his people were getting ready for another one and the same frustration he had felt since the beginning of the war cropped up again. “And who gets sacrificed this time?”
“I beg your pardon?” Connor asked.
“We sent the Carson to the Sygos system based on the intelligence you gave us! Almost two hundred people died; did you convince us to send them in there just to be killed, just to provide us a reason to go to war?!”
His contact’s expression didn’t change after Nelson’s outburst. He walked over to a concrete wall and leaned up against it. “It was Admiral Leland who ordered the Carson there, not us. The Klingons destroyed that ship, not us. We gave you the intelligence on Organia; you were the ones who decided to act upon it. You should be thanking us for giving you the heads up, not condemning us. If we didn’t give you the advanced warning, this war might have ended a lot differently. The Carson’s loss is a tragedy as is every life lost in the war, but it probably saved a lot more than the five thousand lives who died at the hands of the Klingons. If you still can’t sleep at night because of this, then I suggest you find another line of work.”
“Why me?!” Nelson asked loudly, not caring if his voice carried throughout the Bay Area. “Why did you get me dragged into this?!”
“Because you have access that we do not have,” Connor said evenly. “You’ll soon have the ear of Commander, Starfleet; you’ll be in every important closed-door meeting with Starfleet Command, the Federation Council, and the president himself. We have sources in a lot of places, but none within the upper echelons of the government. We also approached you because you think as we do; that the Federation needs to be defended and not everyone believes that should it be to the extent that you and I do.”
“So why the secrecy? Why not go to Admiral Leland directly? He agrees with you! He thinks that the Federation’s grossly unprepared for a war with the Klingons.”
“Let’s just say that we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Besides, dealing directly with the prospective CINC would bring up…issues.” Before Nelson could press further, the communicator on his belt chirped. “I would imagine that’s your wife. You really should learn how to balance your time better.”
Angrily, he glanced down and removed the communicator, but when he looked up and flipped it open, Connor was gone. Nelson looked around the meeting place and found no trace of him. His contact seemed to have the odd habit of vanishing into thin air whenever he wanted to. Just who the hell are these people?
“Alex?” his wife Taylor asked when he didn’t say anything right away. “Are you there? Hello?”
“I’m here,” he replied.
“Where are you? I thought you were leaving the office.”
“Just got held up a little. You know, how about we meet at the Loft for dinner? My treat.”
“Must be important,” she joked. “I know for sure it’s not our anniversary.”
“Let’s just say I have some news,” he said cryptically, indicating the promotion that Admiral Leland told Nelson he would be receiving.
“All right. I can be there in ten minutes.”
“See you then.” Nelson flipped the communicator shut and started to walk out of the alley with a determined stride. When he entered into this arrangement with Connor, he had done so hoping that he could take advantage of a new source of information that’d help him and Leland in their jobs of defending the Federation. After what his contact had just said, after how he seemed to casually dismiss the loss of the Carson as a necessary sacrifice, now he was not so sure…
USS Yorktown
Sector 020
With trepidation, Juliet Okefor made her way down to the lower cargo bay, which had been turned into a makeshift funeral home for the remains of the twelve members of the crew who had perished (the other three had as per their wishes been buried in space) and who’d soon be put on a transport for their final trip home. As executive officer, it had fallen to her to make the arrangements. Not that there was much else to do; until Starfleet cut the Yorktown new orders, they had been told to “take it easy” while the rest of the fleet that had entered the Organian system dispersed to other assignments.
She entered and immediately stopped short when she found Mason in the cargo bay standing in what appeared to be silent vigil over the caskets, each with a blue Federation flag draped over them. The captain turned to her and she immediately said, “I’m sorry, I can come back…”
“It’s all right,” Mason stated. “What brings you down here?”
“The Al Rashid will rendezvous with us in an hour,” Okefor replied, referring to the transport ship that the dead would be loaded onto. “Just wanted to make sure everything down here was ready.”
“I see. How are you holding up?”
She walked up to stand next to him. “Well, sir. Relieved, I suppose.”
“That the war’s over?” he asked.
“Of course,” she answered. “Aren’t you?”
“I…don’t really know.” That was a prevalent feeling throughout the Yorktown, based on Okefor’s read of the ship’s crew. Some, like Hall, were furious that the Organians interfered, stating that they had no business getting involved in other species’ affairs. Others were thankful that they did since they feared that they might not survive the battle against the Klingon fleet. Okefor was merely pleased that this insanity had been stopped before it could spread throughout the quadrant. “Something about all this…doesn’t feel right.”
“You don’t approve of what the Organians did?” There had been some talk about the ethical implications of their intervention; if the Federation had forced an end to a war between two primitive nations by using its advanced technology, it’d be a gross violation of the Prime Directive of Non-Interference. Okefor believed in the principles of the Prime Directive, but if the Organians had a similar protocol, then the XO didn’t mind that they decided to bend the rules this time.
“I don’t know why they didn’t do it sooner,” Mason remarked as he walked up to one of the caskets and placed his hand on it. “Eight ships destroyed, over five thousand lives lost on our side and a hell of a lot more for the Klingons. They said they did this to prevent people from dying, but it was too late for our people here.”
“This couldn’t have been an easy decision for them, sir,” Okefor pointed out. “They said they disliked interfering in the affairs of others. It took our fleets bringing the war to their world to finally push them into intervening.”
With a wide gesture to the caskets, he countered. “Small comfort it is to them.” Sighing, he started to circle around them, though Okefor remained in place. “If we hadn’t run into the Mek’leth a second time, most of these people here would still be alive. A half a day and they’d all still be here. How many lives in this war could the Organians’ have saved if they intervened an hour earlier? A week? This is beyond them playing peacemaker; they played God. In an instant, they radically altered the fate of this quadrant and I’m not entirely sure it’s for the better.”
“But sir, the peace treaty, finally resolving the disputed zone. This could be the beginning of a détente with the Empire.”
“Or it could just end up being another cold war,” Mason countered, “and cold wars only end in one of two ways: peace or more war. And next time the Organians won’t get involved.”
“You think there will be a next one?” Okefor asked. She had her fill of war for one lifetime. She didn’t want to even think about possibly going through another experience like that twenty years from now or even sooner.
“We managed to negotiate a cease fire with the Klingons over twenty years ago,” Mason said, “look how well that worked out. Considering the Empire’s past inability to stick to peace, we could be doing this all over again.”
“I…” she started to say. “I don’t think we should look at it that way, sir. We should give this peace a chance and not assume the Klingons will try to violate it right away. After all, history has shown us that more often than not, war is triggered by the escalation of tensions by both parties.”
“Considering what we just went through…” He gestured once more to the caskets. “I think a little caution is warranted. Sun Tzu once said, ‘In peace prepare for war, in war prepare for peace.’”
“Winston Churchill also said, ‘In peace: goodwill,’” quoted Okefor.
“I believe he also said, ‘In war: resolution,’” added Mason before letting out another sigh. “But I hope you’re right, Commander. I don’t want to think about what could happen if you’re wrong. Let’s get out of here; I doubt the dead enjoy hearing us argue.”
They started to leave the cargo bay, but the captain suddenly stopped, which caused Okefor to, as well. Mason snapped his boot heels together and spun in place to face the caskets; his boots squeaking on the deck as he did. He sharply brought his flat right palm to his brow with his elbow pointed outward. A military salute to the fallen, archaic in the days of Starfleet, but a gesture still regarded as one of respect even in the 23rd Century.
Once more, Okefor she had misjudged Mason all along. She had initially assumed that like Hall, the captain had a militaristic bent that clashed with what she believed the ideals of Starfleet to believe. Mason wasn’t a pessimist or warlike; he was a pragmatist weathered by decades of seeing the very worst of the deep space had to offer. He didn’t crave conflict; he feared it and its consequences just as much as she did. The captain was appalled at the loss of life, be it Federation or Klingon. The only difference between them was that experience had taught him to expect the worse, whereas she continued to hope for the best.
Mason lowered his hand and calmly led Okefor out of the cargo bay. As they walked side-by-side down the corridor, he said, “You know, I was in a situation similar to what the Organians must have gone through back when I was XO of the Hannibal. A survey vessel had crash landed on Volos IV, right in the middle of two warring factions. When we beamed down we…”
Epilogue
USS Yorktown
Sector 020
Doug Mason entered the turbolift on deck five, ready to confront whatever awaited him and his crew. Finally, new orders had just been sent to the Yorktown. With tensions between the Federation and the Klingons settling down in the wake of the new treaty, the captain hoped that he would be taking his ship out to do what she was built to do: explore. But, on the other hand, he was enough of a pragmatist to realize that the future of the quadrant wouldn’t be as peaceful as many were starting to believe.
As he had explained to Okefor last night, since the Empire didn’t take the cease fire after Donatu all too well, it stood to reason then the Organian intervention was probably pissing them off to no end. If there was a way to circumvent the treaty or the Organians’ threat of further intervention, they’d do everything they could to find it. And it remained to be seen how other Federation adversaries like the Romulans, Tholians, and the Gorn would react to the imposed détente. Apparently Mason wasn’t the only one who thought that way; word of Fleet Admiral Barnett’s retirement along with his appointing Admiral Leland to succeed him was making the rounds. Chances were that the candidate to become the next CINC would change how things were done in Starfleet and Mason believed it was about time. He just also hoped that there’d be at least one or two strange new worlds for the Yorktown to explore, as well.
The turbolift suddenly came to a halt and Duclare entered, immediately making Mason feel awkward and based on how she tightened up, she was feeling the same way. They hadn’t spoken since their time in his quarters prior to the Yorktown’s arrival at Organia; their interactions on the bridge and in briefings had been more formal than usual, as if she too felt slightly guilty over what happened just as he did. Obviously if they were to continue to work together, they’d have to address it.
“Captain,” she said formally.
“Commander,” he answered. The doors closed, but he didn’t twist the throttle handle to resume the turbolift’s trip up to the bridge. “Look, I think we need to talk.”
Duclare’s stance relaxed. “Yeah, we do.”
Mason squinted in frustration. How he’d address their relationship (however it was defined) had been running around in his head since the end of the war, but every possible way to approach this difficult subject that he had come up with all seemed inadequate. “I’m…hell, I don’t even know how I feel…I’m not even sure why it happened. We were under a lot of stress then; life and death stuff tends to do that to people. If you want, we can just pretend that…”
“It’s more complicated than that,” she countered. “I...just got divorced. Five months ago.”
“You did? You never said…”
Sarcastically, she countered, “You didn’t exactly give me a lot of opportunity to, sir.” She paused and her expression turned serious. “What happened that night, Doug…we were both in a bad situation. We…I certainly let my hormones and emotions get the better of me, but considering what we might have been facing, it’s…understandable to turn to a friend for comfort.”
“Friends usually just leave it at a hug,” Mason said wryly.
“Well, I’m pretty sure we did hug once or twice,” Duclare said. “Look, I’m not saying that we completely forget about what happened, but…maybe we should just leave it at that and move on. God knows we don’t need any more complications on this ship.”
“I agree,” Mason said as he smiled before starting the turbolift up. “Glad we settled that. I only hope that it doesn’t ruin our professional relationship and our friendship.”
“We’re both mature adults,” she said before clarifying it with, “Well, we’re at least adults. I’m sure we can handle it.”
“I hope so to.”
They didn’t speak for a moment, but Mason cautiously said, “You know, the Canadiens are supposed to be playing the Canucks in a couple of weeks. Maybe if you’re willing to, we could watch it together and talk. As friends, of course.”
Duclare smirked, the same smile that’d drive any heterosexual male wild. “You know, I never said I was a hockey fan.”
“You…?” he asked in disbelief, and then he started to laugh. His science officer was certainly full of surprises. She started giggling as well even as the turbolift inexplicably stopped once again. They tried to stifle their mirth, but were too slow as the doors opened, revealing Zhang, who didn’t look caught off guard by what he had come across.
“I trust I’m not interrupting anything important,” the security chief said slyly.
“No!” they both answered simultaneously, perhaps too quickly and too forcefully.
“I see,” he commented with a chuckle. Apparently little escaped the notice of Li Zhang. The turbolift started moving again after he entered, though there was a brief and awkward silence that Mason’s friend couldn’t leave alone. “Well, whatever’s up between you two, consider your secret safe with me.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Mason muttered, thinking of more than plenty of occasions where his old friend didn’t keep his mouth shut as the turbolift arrived at its destination. The trio emerged onto the bridge, greeted by a crisp “Captain on the bridge” from Tavas. Gertch was lingering by the porch and Cortez stood over the engineering panel. Okefor got up from the captain’s chair and stood off to its left.
“Captain; our orders from Starfleet,” said Schneider as he handed Mason a data slate.
“Let’s have a look,” he said as took it. Mason decided to read it aloud, but the more he spoke, the more disappointed he became, “‘To Captain Doug Mason, Commanding Officer, USS Yorktown. You are ordered to patrol along the new Neutral Zone between the Federation and the Klingon Empire indefinitely. Be on guard for any attempts by the Empire to break or circumvent the Treaty of Organia and respond accordingly. Signed, Admiral Jonas Leland, Chief of Starfleet Operations.’”
A sudden pall was cast over the bridge as the news of the Yorktown’s new assignment was greeted with stunned silence. Technically, Mason realized as he handed the slate back to the communications officer, it was the same task his ship had from the moment he took command of her. The only thing that had changed was that the stakes were different. Instead of preparing to wage total war, now they were being asked to fight a cold war. It wasn’t the news the captain wanted to hear, but he intended to see it through with the same determination he had with the aborted conflict.
“They’re not going to give us a break, are they?” Gertch commented.
“This is certainly a bloody disappointment,” Okefor muttered.
“We have our orders, people,” the captain concluded before sitting down in his chair. He wasn’t fond of standing to post for the remainder of his tenure as the Yorktown’s captain, but if that was what Starfleet wanted, so be it. “If Starfleet thinks the Klingons are still going to cause trouble, then I can’t think of a better ship or crew that can stop them.”
“I don’t think you’ll get any argument from us, Captain,” remarked Cortez.
“Mr. Hall, compute a parallel course to the new Neutral Zone.”
“Aye sir,” the navigator replied. “Course plotted and laid in.”
“Helm, ahead warp factor four,” Mason ordered.
“Aye sir,” Tavas said and the warp drive hummed to life once more.
The battle-tested vessel accelerated forward towards the speed of light with her crew now veteran crew into an uncertain future. The voyages of the starship Yorktown so far had been trying indeed and the five-year mission to come promised to be equally difficult. In a brilliant flash as it broke the speed of light, the ship headed off to its next challenge in space, the final frontier…
Congratulations on completing your first Original Yorktown story. I really enjoyed the blast from the past feel on this as well as seeing the Organia story seen from a different perspective.
My favorite parts were the Yorktown chapters themselves. Having said that I did enjoy your interpretation of Federation and Starfleet history and politics. Especially in the beginning.
Can't say I'm the biggest fan of Leland or the Section31 sub-plot, the latter, just because I feel that they've been overused in fan fiction and tend to creep into everything these days.
In regards to the philosophical discussion over 'should they have or shouldn't they have', I think I'm going to take Okefor's optimistic side. Should the Organians have acted sooner? Perhaps. Did they have the right to do it? Probably not. Should they have done it at all? Absolutely.
Great story!
My favorite parts were the Yorktown chapters themselves. Having said that I did enjoy your interpretation of Federation and Starfleet history and politics. Especially in the beginning.
Can't say I'm the biggest fan of Leland or the Section31 sub-plot, the latter, just because I feel that they've been overused in fan fiction and tend to creep into everything these days.
In regards to the philosophical discussion over 'should they have or shouldn't they have', I think I'm going to take Okefor's optimistic side. Should the Organians have acted sooner? Perhaps. Did they have the right to do it? Probably not. Should they have done it at all? Absolutely.
Great story!
True, I do feel that Section 31 (guess I wasn't subtle there, either) is a tad overused as an all-encompassing massive conspiracy, which is why I intend to handle it a little differently than in other series. Note that Nelson has no idea who he's dealing with and there's a reason why Connor for now is playing things close to the chest as opposed to when Sloan spelled out everything to Dr. Bashir in the very first Section 31 episode. Besides, the Section 31 of the 23rd Century could be vastly different than the one we saw in the 24th. I was admittedly a little inspired by the now-canceled AMC television series Rubicon with this revelation. Sharp eyes will spot other influences from another famous AMC show.
As for why some people don't like what the Organians did, I felt it would be a realistic reaction to what happened. Kirk was initially angry about in the original episode, but I figured not everyone would share that sentiment. The reasons vary, of course, and now that the stage has been set for the new cold war, it's another thing I'll be building upon.
The initial reason for bringing in Leland was as I said to provide benchmarks for where we were in relation to "Errand of Mercy;" same reason for the two scenes set on Organia and I had more but decided to drop them because they bordered on plagiarism. But, I started becoming interested in seeing how events in the field, be they the Yorktown or the Enterprise, were experienced by the brass on Earth. Leland and Nelson's involvement in future stories will vary, but I have ideas on where to go with them.
Speaking of ideas, I just (literally within the last few hours) got one for the next story, tentatively titled "Kings, Queens, Knights, & Pawns," but it might be too long for the forum so that could change. Anyway, I'm going to take my time with it, so maybe it'll be ready by the spring. In the mean time, I'll try putting up some annotations for "Trials of War" in the weeks ahead. There were a few things I was surprised no one noticed or asked about.
Good ending I thought, and a great character arc for Leland. I hope there are more adventures with this incarnation of the Yorktown. You really have a lot of room to flesh out these characters more now that the foundation is laid in. Good to see some TOS era trek, and my favorite parts were also the ones set on the Yorktown. I'd kind of like to see the ramifications of Duclare/Mason's relationship (if any). It was good to show the events from the episode in another perspective kind of makes it a more complete story to me. I had watched the episode right before you started posting this, and I too thought why they Organians didn't act sooner. The obvious answer is that it wasn't in the script for them too, but from a story stand point, yes they could have acted a lot sooner.
Haven't read since before Christmas, just got caught up and very much enjoyed the whole thing. Even though we knew how it ended, there was enough exploration of all the things going on around the original TOS story that you kept it exciting. I certainly think it puts to rest the silly notion that prequels can't be exciting just because we know what happens. In the hands of the right author, everything that was old can be made new again.
I certainly look forward to any more adventures of this crew.
I certainly look forward to any more adventures of this crew.
All right, now that I've gotten my avatar in Star Trek Online promoted to the proper rank of captain, let's try the crew of the USS Yorktown once again:
Commanding officer Captain Doug Mason
Executive officer Lieutenant Commander Juliet Okefor
Science officer Lieutenant Commander Kristen Duclare
Chief of security Lieutenant Commander Li Zhang
Chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Francisco Cortez (kind of looks like a Latino Ed Harris, doesn't he?)
Chief medical officer Dr. Gertch (I shortened the beard since he kind of looked like a member of a Tellarite tribute band to ZZ Top)
Helmswoman Lieutenant Tavas
Navigator and weapons officer Lieutenant Cody Hall
Communications officer Ensign Wolfram Schneider
Assistant chief engineer Lieutenant Sovek
Yeoman First Class Angelica Santiago
Edit: Never mind the issues. I had more than enough Cryptic points to buy two additional bridge officer slots, which was just enough. Enjoy.
Commanding officer Captain Doug Mason
Executive officer Lieutenant Commander Juliet Okefor
Science officer Lieutenant Commander Kristen Duclare
Chief of security Lieutenant Commander Li Zhang
Chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Francisco Cortez (kind of looks like a Latino Ed Harris, doesn't he?)
Chief medical officer Dr. Gertch (I shortened the beard since he kind of looked like a member of a Tellarite tribute band to ZZ Top)
Helmswoman Lieutenant Tavas
Navigator and weapons officer Lieutenant Cody Hall
Communications officer Ensign Wolfram Schneider
Assistant chief engineer Lieutenant Sovek
Yeoman First Class Angelica Santiago
Edit: Never mind the issues. I had more than enough Cryptic points to buy two additional bridge officer slots, which was just enough. Enjoy.
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Good likenesses for the crew, now we can put a face with a name. Sorry you couldn't get Okefor. Question, are you going to make this story available in pdf like you've done with your previous ones?
Good likenesses for the crew, now we can put a face with a name. Sorry you couldn't get Okefor. Question, are you going to make this story available in pdf like you've done with your previous ones?
Look above. I also had a little fun with the costume creator, so stay tuned for something interesting "what if" scenarios in the coming days. And I'll probably put a bunch in PDF format when the first "season" is done.
All right, felt the need to revise Duclare's look a little, first off because I just left her face as-is instead of tweaking it. Second reason is when on a lark I made a Mirror Universe version:
I dialed down the femme fatale factor and gave her a more...professional hair style:
Also gets around the fact that the long styles clip through the uniform collars. Anyway, I also made a couple of the supporting characters:
Admiral Jonas Leland
Commander Alexander Nelson
Yeoman Chambers
Look for something regarding annotations to start showing up next week.
I dialed down the femme fatale factor and gave her a more...professional hair style:
Also gets around the fact that the long styles clip through the uniform collars. Anyway, I also made a couple of the supporting characters:
Admiral Jonas Leland
Commander Alexander Nelson
Yeoman Chambers
Look for something regarding annotations to start showing up next week.
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Like the improved verisons. I have to say they seem to fit what the characters look like. Too bad STO wasn't around for the 24th Century verison of Yorktown.
I hope you're able to give them proper badges, because right now they look like Enterprise crewmembers.
They're the only ones available in-game, at least for now. If you notice, I intentionally dodged the issue as to what their badges look like since that opens up a major can of worms.
