Garm Bel Iblis
Commodore
Prologue
With the lights dimmed and floating at the edge of consciousness, Brice Kellin felt like he was drifting in the endless void of stars. He lie on the hard bunk in the brig of the USS Enterprise, his last trip aboard a Federation ship for the rest of his life.
He held a data padd in both hands.
The screen displayed the names and faces of the crew roster of the USS Saratoga. Gleason, Kaplan, Piller, Sovar, Thara. He read the names and met the faces of each of the deceased crew. At the top of the list, the update casualty projections had been finalized by Starfleet Command. The USS Lexington had been destroyed by the Jem’Hadar while evacuating colonists on Trabor VII, twenty nine hours after the cease fire had been put into effect. That ship’s first officer had meant more to him than the galaxy itself, and a rogue band of Dominion soldiers had taken that from him.
The war was over, and it had been for nearly a year. Kellin had fought for his captaincy, been put through the trials and tribulations of reverting to peacetime. Time and gain he’d failed to do that.
A year go, he’d bottled up that rage and turned it inward. From his time in the Federation mental health hospitals to the countless meetings with psychiatrists from across Starfleet, Kellin had struggled to regain his humanity.
And he failed.
“I’m sorry,” he said mumbled, his voice hoarse from the rage he’d been expressing to this room for the past several hours.
He sat still for several moments and watched the stars. His life had been ripped from him .His ship, his crew and his wife, all casualties in a war that never should have happened.
And now he was being shipped off to Elba II to live out his days with the criminally insane.
He was done with it.
He screamed and doubled over in pain.
Howling with agony he writhed on the floor.
“Riley to Sickbay!” the guard shouted into his combadge. “Medical emergency in the brig!”
Kellin screamed louder.
Riley moved to deactivate the forcefield, drawing his phaser, he slapped the pane, shutting down the electrostatic barrier. “Just hold on,” Riley said. “The doctor’s coming.”
Kellin rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing violently, he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood and spit it on the deck. He kicked his legs and collapsed, holding his breath.
Riley knelt down, felt for a pulse on Kellin’s neck.
Found one.
Before he could react Kellin was moving, spinning, grabbing Riley’s phaser and driving it into his skull with a wet crunch before the man before he could move.
Kellin didn’t even feel for the man. He’d killed so many times that it no longer registered, they were just targets in his way. Now was the time for one final act that would release him.
Knowing he didn’t’ have much time left, he released the weapon’s safety, tapped the setting stud sixteen times until the grid turned red and the device went warm to the touch. He felt fresh tears sting his eyes as he stuck the end of the weapon in his mouth and clamped down on the emitter node. Taking one last deep breath, he pinched the firing trigger.
- - -
The explosion tore across all of deck nine exposing dozens of meters of the ship to the cold unforgiving vacuum of space. Several crewmen were blown out of their quarters, two of them colliding with the end of the ship’s warp nacelles, incinerating and causing the warp field to collapse as the engine erupted in a phase misalignment and exploded.
The starship Enterprise tumbled out of warp, disabled and with dozens dead.
All because one man had went insane.
Chapter:
Thirteen months ago
Kalandra Sector
USS Saratoga, Stardate
52631.4- April 2375.
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. I’ve got all tubes hot, phasers charged.”
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 the 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. Then 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.
Shaking 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.
With the lights dimmed and floating at the edge of consciousness, Brice Kellin felt like he was drifting in the endless void of stars. He lie on the hard bunk in the brig of the USS Enterprise, his last trip aboard a Federation ship for the rest of his life.
He held a data padd in both hands.
The screen displayed the names and faces of the crew roster of the USS Saratoga. Gleason, Kaplan, Piller, Sovar, Thara. He read the names and met the faces of each of the deceased crew. At the top of the list, the update casualty projections had been finalized by Starfleet Command. The USS Lexington had been destroyed by the Jem’Hadar while evacuating colonists on Trabor VII, twenty nine hours after the cease fire had been put into effect. That ship’s first officer had meant more to him than the galaxy itself, and a rogue band of Dominion soldiers had taken that from him.
The war was over, and it had been for nearly a year. Kellin had fought for his captaincy, been put through the trials and tribulations of reverting to peacetime. Time and gain he’d failed to do that.
A year go, he’d bottled up that rage and turned it inward. From his time in the Federation mental health hospitals to the countless meetings with psychiatrists from across Starfleet, Kellin had struggled to regain his humanity.
And he failed.
“I’m sorry,” he said mumbled, his voice hoarse from the rage he’d been expressing to this room for the past several hours.
He sat still for several moments and watched the stars. His life had been ripped from him .His ship, his crew and his wife, all casualties in a war that never should have happened.
And now he was being shipped off to Elba II to live out his days with the criminally insane.
He was done with it.
He screamed and doubled over in pain.
Howling with agony he writhed on the floor.
“Riley to Sickbay!” the guard shouted into his combadge. “Medical emergency in the brig!”
Kellin screamed louder.
Riley moved to deactivate the forcefield, drawing his phaser, he slapped the pane, shutting down the electrostatic barrier. “Just hold on,” Riley said. “The doctor’s coming.”
Kellin rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing violently, he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood and spit it on the deck. He kicked his legs and collapsed, holding his breath.
Riley knelt down, felt for a pulse on Kellin’s neck.
Found one.
Before he could react Kellin was moving, spinning, grabbing Riley’s phaser and driving it into his skull with a wet crunch before the man before he could move.
Kellin didn’t even feel for the man. He’d killed so many times that it no longer registered, they were just targets in his way. Now was the time for one final act that would release him.
Knowing he didn’t’ have much time left, he released the weapon’s safety, tapped the setting stud sixteen times until the grid turned red and the device went warm to the touch. He felt fresh tears sting his eyes as he stuck the end of the weapon in his mouth and clamped down on the emitter node. Taking one last deep breath, he pinched the firing trigger.
- - -
The explosion tore across all of deck nine exposing dozens of meters of the ship to the cold unforgiving vacuum of space. Several crewmen were blown out of their quarters, two of them colliding with the end of the ship’s warp nacelles, incinerating and causing the warp field to collapse as the engine erupted in a phase misalignment and exploded.
The starship Enterprise tumbled out of warp, disabled and with dozens dead.
All because one man had went insane.
Chapter:
Thirteen months ago
Kalandra Sector
USS Saratoga, Stardate
52631.4- April 2375.
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. I’ve got all tubes hot, phasers charged.”
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 the 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. Then 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.
Shaking 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.
