Temporal War: Destiny's Wrath

[Saratoga NX-3842]

This is what it had come to. After more than two decades since the Romulan Empire had ended its selfimposed exile on the rest of the galaxy, they had chosen war. The Federation had been in highlevel talks with the new Senate on Romulus ever since the defeat of Shinzon and his Reman confederates. Led by Captain Riker of the USS Titan, an alliance had been almost a guaranteed certainty.
Will Riker reflected on the past five years of talks and deals, both above and below the table with the Romulan leadership. Praetor Tal’Aura had been eager to sign the treaty at the ceremony on Earth next month. Riker would escort her aboard the Titan himself.
But now, as yet another eps conduit exploded in a halo of plasma weapons and disruptor blasts, Riker cursed his complacency as he watched the main screen as three Romulan heavy cruisers bared down on the LunaClass Starfleet vessel. They’d been running from this combined Romulan attack force for the past two hours, dodging them thorough a convoluted course of asteroids, nebulae and subspace anomalies.
The end result had been more damage to the Titan than remaining in the fight. They’d exhausted their supply of quantum torpedoes, and their phaser reserves were dangerously low. Their shields were beginning to buckle under the constant strain. A few times during the chase, Riker had ordered the shields dropped and recharged. The forty second cycle had been some of the most harrowing moments of his career. The captain had actually shoved aside Ensign Lorin, the young Cardassian helmsman, aside and piloted Titan himself in a series of rapid and violent maneuvers keeping Titan out of the Romulans firing patterns until the shields were back up to full.
“The lead warbird has been disabled,” reported Commander Tuvok from tactical. “The second and third vessels are closing to stern and rearming weapons.”
Riker exchanged a quick glance with his wife and diplomatic officer, Deanna Troi. “Keep throwing everything we have at them, Tuvok. Helm, switch to evasive FourDeltaPi. Communications: has there been any response to our distress calls?”
At the com station a Benzite Lieutenant named Lodon swiveled to face his captain. “The Romulan’s have been flooding subspace with ionizing radiation since we first encountered them. I’ve managed to break through a small layer of it with a subspace burst transmission, but unfortunately that frequency does not allow us to receive a response; only to send messages.”
Riker rose from the command chair and stumbled across the vibrating deck. “Tuvok, what was the position of the Twelfth Fleet from Starfleet’s last tactical update?”
The Vulcan took an instant away from his weapons controls and accessed the data. “At last report the fleet was on maneuvers in the SansTriala system in Sector 214.”
“How long at maximum warp?” the captain asked.
“Fortyeight minutes at warp nine.”
“Riker to Engineering. Talk to me. I need maximum warp for as long as an hour.”
“It’ll be tricky,” came the voice of the Titan’s chief engineer. “We’ve got the warp core bypassed and juryrigged thirty different ways. I wouldn’t recommend a running fire fight, sir.”
“We’ll do our best,” Riker said. “Out!”
He rounded the tactical station and stomped towards the conn. “Ensign, set course for Sector 214, warp nine.”
Ensign Lorin’s hands were a blur as they danced across the controls. “Course plotted and laid.”
He didn’t finish. The helm console exploded under another weapons impact. The crewman was torn in half in the resulting concussion, his dark blood spattering across Riker and Lieutenant Commander Xian at Ops.
“Shields have failed!” shouted Tuvok over the explosions and impacts.
First Officer Christine Vale emerged from the turbolift at that moment. “It’s bad, sir,” she said approaching Riker. “Engineering’s a disaster area. Primary couplings have been severed all across the ship. I don’t think we can hope to escape.”
“You know what Romulans do to their prisoners,” Riker whispered softly. But what choice did they have? The Titan was coming apart at the seams. It was only a matter of time before they were all dead. “So much for my first command.” He straightened. “All hands abandon ship.”


Riker pumped the manual lever and sealed the hatch of the escape pod. He’d spent the last several minutes securing the crew and tending to the dozens of injured. They’d all been safely secured in the pods, and only awaited Riker’s final authorization for launch. Reaching for the panel that would send the pods exploding into space and hopefully away from their Romulan captors, he closed his eyes.
“I know, Will,” came Deanna’s soothing voice from behind. The final pod was theirs. She was waiting for him. “There’ll be another ship.”
“I suppose,” Riker said. “I was just getting use to the idea of Titan has home. We spent so long on the Enterprise’s that the Titan never really felt like one.”
“As long as the crew is safe,” Troi said, “that’s all that matters.”
“I“ before he could continue a sensor relay began flashing. A perimeter alert has been issued. “What the hell?” He tied into the Titan’s sensor array. “There are five more ships coming in.”
“Reinforcements?” Troi asked. “I didn’t think we were doing so well.”
Riker’s eyes widened in amazement. Five Federation vessels emerged in unison from warp and opened fire on the Romulans.



Utopia Planitia, Federation Shipyards, Mars, Sector 001.
The battered hulk of the USS Titan lie in a dormant state surrounded by power cables, hull reinforcing workbees and a number of engineering inspection personnel encased in environmental suits.
Will Riker watched in sadness as his vessel was worked over like this. It’d been six days since the attack by the Romulans. The Twelfth Fleet had arrived just in the knick of time and brought Riker and his crew home.
“She’ll be good as new in no time, I’m sure.”
Riker spun around and grinned broadly at the familiar voice. “Captain!”
JeanLuc returned the smile graciously and nodded his head. “Good to see you, Will. I heard about what happened. How’s your crew?”
“We lost eleven people,” Riker said somberly. “Good people. But we were lucky. What are you doing here? Is Enterprise undergoing refits?”
Picard shook his head. “Orders. Starfleet Command has requested you and I for a special assignment and I have a feeling I know what it is.”
Chapter:
“Six weeks? I can’t leave for that long. They’ll have my commission.” Brice Kellin sat within the dark confines of his ready room and studied the angelic face of his new bride. Lorissa Manning, First Officer of the USS Lexington.
“You’re being naïve, Brice, you’ve been away from your ship for longer than that.”
Kellin felt a nerve pinch behind his eyes. “Don’t remind me,” he said. Several years ago, he’d spent almost two years lost in time. With the help of his own first officer and friend, he’d returned to his own time only a few hours after he’d ‘left.’ “Regardless,” he said, “Saratoga is due at Solonis II next week for a complete refit of the engineering computers. The entire layover should take about nine days. I can get away for that long, no longer.”
Lorissa looked pained. “This is our honeymoon, Brice! We’ve been married a month and we’ve only spent a handful of hours together.”
“I’m trying my best, Lorissa,” he replied. “I’m a starship captain. You knew that when you married me. I can’t give up that command. If you’d taken the offer I gave you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Oh please,” Lorissa said. “A position as your ship’s science officer? It’d never work. Husbands and wives have no business putting themselves in that place.”
“I’ll be sure and let Will Riker know you feel that way. He and Deanna have settled in just fine on Titan.”
“Luck of the draw, you know we’d never be able to work in that sort of capacity. What did you call me? A liberal idealist whose captain has to reign in her bleeding heart?”
Brice actually chuckled. “Sounds about right, dear.” His attention was diverted a moment by a blinking indicator on his desktop. “I’ve got to go. We’ve got a rendezvous coming up in a few minutes. I’ll be in touch. We’ll work this out.”
“I love you,” Lorissa said.
“I know,” Kellin said, terminating the link. He closed his eyes and settled back into his chair. He turned to watch the stars stream by at warp as his GalaxyClass USS Saratoga glided through space to her next port of call. Fortunately for him, that port was Starbase 541, within range of the Lexington’s current position. He’d be with his wife again soon. He shook his head in amazement at her stubbornness. He’d promised her a honeymoon that would satisfy them both. That’d turned out to be a tougher job than he’d thought.
His first offer had been a week on Risa. She’d laughed herself silly. She’d countered with a month on Toros III. He still couldn’t understand her desire for that world. Toros III had been the first planet attacked by the Allied fleet in the opening hours of the Dominion War. Occupied by the Federation at the end of the war, it had been transformed into a galactic weigh station for relief ships heading to Cardassia Prime, rebuilding that ravaged world. It was weeks before he’d found out a Ferengi trade expedition had opened a casino and resort on Toros that promised an experience unlike any other.
The arguments had continued for the past few weeks. And now Lorissa wanted him to take six weeks and head for Maraina IV. Located five hundred lightyears from Solonis, it’d take four weeks of travel roundtrip to make the journey. The doors parted as he stepped onto the ellipticalshaped bridge and headed for his command chair. Standing in front of it, he caught sight of his first officer, Commander Kelso Vanick. “Commander,” he said.
Vanick moved away from the science station and descended the short steps to the center of the bridge. “She’ll be in range in just a few more seconds, sir.”
Kellin settled into his command chair, adjusting his uniform tunic, brushing away the wrinkles in the dark fabric. “Let’s have a look, Mr. Reed.”
Travis Reed, a young man with a family history of service to Starfleet more than two centuries old acknowledged the order and operated the necessary controls on his tactical array. “Visual,” he confirmed.
The forward screen blinked just as a flash of subspace radiation exploded, revealing the decelerating image of a SovereignClass ship reverting to impulse power. The seven hundred meter long flagship banked port and fired her breaking thrusters, coming to a relative stop in front of Saratoga. The dark lettering on her primary hull glinted off the light from her nacelles. USS Enterprise.
“She is a sight,” Vanick commented.
“They’re hailing,” Reed said.
Kellin rose and took a few steps forward. “On screen.”
The image shifted again to the warm greeting of Captain JeanLuc Picard. “Captain Kellin. Good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Kellin stated. Nine years ago both Kellin and Vanick had served under Picard on the previous Enterprise until she was destroyed in the Verdian system. “I take it you have orders for us that couldn’t be transmitted over subspace.”
Picard nodded. “Enterprise is on her shakedown cruise after six months of repair and refit. Starfleet Command wants it’s most experienced officer in the field of combat tactics on this one.”
Kellin groaned. He’d led several assaults during the Dominion War, most notably the liberation of Betazed. During his temporal jumping, he’d fought more and had retained the knowledge on his return to the present. The Department of Temporal Investigations had recommended he be relieved of his command due to his knowledge of a possible future and the information he’d obtained regarding starship operations of Cardassian, Klingon and Romulan societies. Captain Picard along with Admiral Kathryn Janeway had insisted he retain his command, stating he was invaluable and Starfleet could not afford to lose him. And now here was Picard, giving him orders because he was the only one who could accomplish the mission.
“I’m sure,” Kelin said. “If you’d like, you can transport aboard any time you like.”
“Excellent,” Picard said. “My first officer and I will beam aboard in say, ten minutes?”
“Sounds good,” Kellin said. “I’ll have you brought up to the conference room. Saratoga out.” The image blinked to the visual of Enterprise once again. “Commander,” he said to his first officer, “please greet the captain and his XO in transporter three and bring them up here. I have a honeymoon to go on; I don’t want this mission to take longer than absolutely necessary.”
Vanick grinned widely and lowered his voice. “She still coming at you for six weeks of leave?”
“You’ve been in cahoots all along,” Kellin realized. “Sorry. Four weeks in the captain’s yacht is a bit much.”
“She’s not going to let up,” Vanick said, as he started towards the lift. “Face it, Captain, you’re going to have to leave me in charge for a month and a half while you go and enjoy yourself.”
Kellin was about to respond when the lift doors closed and his friend and XO was gone. He shook his headed and headed for the conference lounge. Taking another look around the bridge, he supposed Vanick was right. Better finish this up quick, he thought.


JeanLuc Picard, a legend by most standards in modern Starfleet looked troubled. He’d entered the conference room with his first officer, Commander Worf and had gotten straight to the point.
“I’ll be brief, Captain. Saratoga’s mission to Starbase 541 has been put on hold. Six months ago, after the Enterprise’s encounter with the Scimitar, Starfleet Intelligence focused their efforts on such an advancement in Romulan technology. Such massive leaps in research and production have concluded that the Romulans must be getting their technology from the future.”
Kellin stood near the row of windows which peered into the black night of space. Vanick sat at the table, watching Picard with interest. “Something tells me that the idea of just more advanced technology from a race discovered by the Romulans has been dismissed.”
Picard nodded. “Extensive chroniton scans of components of the warbird have revealed a quantum signature that doesn’t correlate. Estimates project the technology comprising the thalaron weapon were from approximately four hundred years in the future.”
“I’ve seen a version of that future,” Kelin said. Four years ago, relatively speaking, he’d been transported to a temporal observatory and given a review of an alternate timeline. “I know what kind of technology will be invented.”
“The entire situation has escalated, I’m afraid,” Picard continued. “Our diplomatic taskforce led by the Titan has been ejected from Romulan space. The new praetor, Tal’Aura, has made clear that the Romulan Empire will no longer tolerate the Klingon presence along their border or as a protectorate of the Remans. They’ve given the Klingons a week to abandon their colony on Krios.”
“I’m familiar with that planet,” Vanick said. “Didn’t the Enterprise uncover a Romulan plot to start a war there?”
From the opposite side of the table, Worf nodded. “Yes. The Romulans had manufactured a number of Federation weapons. They attempted to implicate the Federation in supplying weapons to the Kriosian rebels that were fighting against the government. The Romulans even captured our chief engineer and brainwashed him to kill the Kriosian governor.”
“Since then,” Picard said, “the rebellion was put down. During the conflict with the Dominion, Krios acted as a staging ground for Romulan fleets heading out of the Empire and towards the front lines.”
“And now they want that space for their own,” Kellin said, “and with the kind of technology they have their hands on, they just might accomplish it.”
Picard nodded. “Captain Riker has provided Starfleet with a number of contacts with the Romulan fleet and senate that are sympathetic to the Federation. The Saratoga’s being sent to Kronos first. Chancellor Martok has threatened to wipe out any Romulan ship within forty light years of Krios. You must convince him to wait until we’ve dealt with the Romulans with every diplomatic channel we have. We cannot fight another war, Captain.”
“Might I ask sir, why the Enterprise hasn’t been given this assignment?” Kellin asked.
“Enterprise is still under her shakedown,” Picard replied. “She took a lot of damage during the conflict with Shinzon. That, and the fact that he was a clone of me, makes me less than an ideal choice to deal with the Romulans until the memory of their former praetor fades.”
“Very well,” Kellin sighed. “We can get underway immediately.”
“Good. Commander Worf has been assigned to Saratoga as a mission specialist. He’s a member of Chancellor Martok’s house and will be instrumental in your dealings with the Klingons.” He handed Kellin an isolinear chip. “These are your written orders. You’ll be met by a Klingon ship, the IKS Gorkon, when you reach the border. They will escort you to Kronos.”
Kellin took the offered chip and nodded. “We’ll do our best.”
“Good luck,” Picard said. He nodded to Worf and Vanick. With that, he left the conference lounge, escorted by Commander Vanick.
Turning to Worf, Kellin smiled faintly. “We’ll get you some quarters, Commander. And I’ll schedule a meeting of the senior staff once we’re underway.”
Worf stood. “Good. I have a feeling things will not go as Starfleet hopes.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Mister Worf,” said Kellin. “Or we’re all in trouble.”
Worf gave him a troubled stare and left the room, leaving Kellin alone with his thoughts. He looked at the chip in his hand, turning it over and over. “Kellin to Bridge. Contact the Lexington. I need to speak with my wife.”


“You’re kidding.”
Kellin smiled at his wife’s pained expression as her image glowed on the viewscreen in the conference room. “I’m afraid not. We’re being sent to Kronos.”
“Can’t Kelso handle it? He’s been your first officer since you took command. He’s qualified.”
“Starfleet Command said I was the one they wanted given my experience with temporal tampering.”
“Whatever,” Manning said. “Captain Anderson needs me for an away team on Denta. A local government facility has been attacked by a Tholian raider. We’re trying to help with relief. We’ll be at Solonis within the next forty hours. If you can find a way to be with me, be my guest.”
Before Kellin could respond, Lorissa reached for something off screen and the communication terminated.
“Bridge to Captain Kellin.”
It was Vanick. “Go ahead, Kelso,” he said.
“Captain Picard’s returned to the Enterprise. We’re ready to get underway.”
“Best speed to the Klingon border,” Kellin ordered. “I’ll be on the bridge in a few minutes.”

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Martok, son of Urthog threw back the goblet of bloodwine and finished the smooth liquid in a gulp. He wiped the remnants from his mouth with the back of his hand slammed the mug on the wooden table. “We drink to the glory of the Empire,” he said to his guests. “As well as the continued cooperation between our respective governments.”
Kellin, Vanick and Worf lifted their glasses in toast. Kellin sipped at his bloodwine and was again thankful for the antiintoxicant Dr. Cole and provided. “Indeed,” he said. “When we made orbit the first thing we noticed was the impressive display of firepower you have up there.”
“A necessary precaution given the current state of affairs,” Martok stated. “The Romulans are once again attempting to rise above the rest of us and sow deceit and betrayal upon the entire quadrant.”
“The Dominion War wasn’t all that long ago,” Vanick said. “It’s hard to believe they’re in a position to do much damage.”
Marotk snorted. “Let us be clear with one another. Imperial Intelligence is aware of the future technology they have obtained.”
Kellin hid his reaction well, keeping his eyes locked on the chancellor. “I’m not at liberty to say what Starfleet Intelligence knows or doesn’t know. However…” he said quickly before Martok could interrupt him, “I’m committed to putting an end to it. I’ve come to Kronos to ask a favor of you.”
Martok stiffened in his chair. “Go on.”
“I want to hold off any attack against Romulus until I’ve managed to meet with the Romulan leadership and try and put and end to this before a full scale war erupts.”
“The Romulan leadership already threw out your diplomatic teams,” Martok exclaimed. “What do you think you can do that will stop what is to come?”
“I have a great deal of experience in temporal warfare. I’ve been four hundred years in the past and as far as seven hundred years into the future. I know what that kind of temporal tampering can do. I saw a future where the entire galaxy was oppressed by ruthless empire that lashed out in fear. I’m certain I can uncover who the Romulans are dealing with and convince them to stand down.”
Worf set down his mug. “The captain is speaking the truth, Chancellor. The details of his exploits can be made available to you. However, there is no time. If we are going to stop the Romulans from attacking Krios and starting another war, the Saratoga must make a direct appeal to the Romulan Senate and the new Praetor.”
Standing, Martok threw back the heavy cloak of office he was forced to wear and let it drape over the back of his chair. “I will give you eight days, Captain. That is when our forces will be position to strike the Romulans. If at that time you cannot convince me otherwise, I will have no choice but to take preemptive action.”
Kellin was immediately on his feet. “Thank you, Chancellor. This means a great deal to me.”
The chancellor pointed to Worf. “It is a good thing you brought him along, Captain. The word of my brother goes a long way. No one else would have been able to convince me to delay an attack that will save the lives of millions of warriors.”
“It won’t come to that,” Kellin promised. “We’ll stop this before it begins.”
The loud clang of the double doors to the council chamber thundered and a young solider ran in. “Chancellor! Krios has been attacked! The Romulans have landed three divisions!”
Martok snarled a string of curses. “Alert my flagship to prepare for departure!”
“Chancellor!” Kellin snapped. “Give me my time! I can end this!”
Martok raged. “You are telling me not to respond to an act of war!”
“The Romulans can be dealt with. They are baiting you in to responding. If you do, you’ll be destroyed. They have thalaron weapons. They can reduce your fleet to dust.”
“I will you give you two days,” Martok said through clenched teeth. “At the end of that time if you have not exposed the instigators I will liberate Krios and launch a full scale attack against the Romulan homeworlds.”
“Fortyeight hours is better than nothing,” Vanick said quickly, defusing his captain’s frustrations.
“Kellin to Saratoga,” the captain said into his combadge. “Beam us aboard and set a course for Romulus. All hands to battle stations.”



“This is insane,” Kellin shouted against the quiet of his ready room. Vanick and Worf stood a comfortable distance away. Lieutenant Reed stood near the captain’s desk holding a data padd. Through the ports the stars streamed by as Saratoga approached the upper limits of warp nine. The ship’s chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Piller had assured them that nine point seven would be available soon. “Reed, what’s the situation near Krios?”
“Not good, sir,” Reed said. “Our longrange scans have indicated a complete orbital bombardment with plasma weapons.”
“What about thalaron radiation?” Worf asked.
“Negative, sir,” Reed responded.
“A small blessing,” Vanick said. “We should cross the Romulan border is less than an hour. Before we cross over, I suggest contacting Captain Riker. He’s been at the forefront of the negotiations for the past five years.”
Kellin considering the request. They’d been ordered to maintain a com blackout for the duration of the mission unless it was an emergency. But if Riker could help them diffuse this. “Get me Captain Riker on Code 47.”

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Chapter:
The Saratoga flew for the next three days at high warp on course for the Caleb sector, the closest Federation claimed area near the Klingon border. In that time, Kellin had received no communication from his wife and he had made no attempt to communicate with her. Once they crossed into Klingon space, all subspace communication would be blacked out. Given the likelihood of cloaked Romulan vessels in the area on the prowl for a fight, Command had ordered complete radio silence.
Near the end of beta shift on the third day, Saratoga reached the rendezvous with the IKS Gorkon. Her commander, an old war veteran by the name of Klag greeted them with usual Klingon gruffness. He gave them a circuitous course to follow towards the homeworld. They went to high warp once again.
Twenty hours later they established synchronous orbit above Kronos. Standing behind the helm and ops station, Kellin found himself shocked at the number of warships circling the planet. He’d been to Kronos a few times in his career and it had been nothing like this.
“Gearing up for a fight?” Kellin asked, turning his attention towards Worf. The commander had taken a position in the seat normally recovered for Counselor T’Sala. However, the ship’s therapist was on a leave of absence on Vulcan. Kellin knew she was home taking part in the ponfar but other than Dr. Cole, no one else needed to know that.
“Most likely,” Worf said. “In the past weeks, Klingon fleets have been relocated towards the homeworld. The information I have obtained from my son at the Federation Embassy state that Martok wants a full scale response ready at a moments notice.”
“Well it’s time we made our case to the chancellor,” Kellin said. “Mister Reed, contact the High Council. Inform them we’d be honored to meet the chancellor whenever he wishes.”
“Message sent,” Reed confirmed after a few moments. “We’ve been provided with transport coordinates.”
”Excellent,” the captain said. “You have the bridge. Mister Worf, Mister. Vanick, with me.”




“There’s not a whole lot I can tell you,” Riker said. The buzz on the frequency of security scramble made a soft vibration on Kellin’s desk. “Tal’Aura threw us out, said we’d been aiding disloyal factions to the Romulan leadership and sent three warbirds after us. We took a hell of a beating.”
“I read the reports,” Kellin said. “I’m glad that you were able to salvage Titan. She’s a good ship. But if the Romulans are launching an all out invasion on the Klingons starting with Krios, the entire quadrant will be dragged in. The Tholians won’t be far behind to get into the fray and the God knows the Gorn are weary enough after the Dominion War. I’m reasonably sure I can make contact with the Senate, it’s just that I have no idea what I’m going to say.”
“They are duplicitous bunch,” Riker said. “And ever since Shinzon’s coup, they’re even more distrustful than ever. If you’re even allowed into their space given the circumstances that’s a hell of an accomplishment considering they turned my ship into swiss cheese.” His gaze seemed to unfocus for a moment as if lost in thought. “Actually there is someone who can help. He’s been undercover on Romulus for more than a decade and may be privy to information we can’t get.”
“Ambaddasor Spock,” Kellin surmised.
“The one and only. There are a few discreet ways to get in touch with him. I’ll send you the specifics.”
“I appreciate that, Captain,” Kellin said. “I’ve got to go, we’ll be crossing into Romulan space in just a minutes.”
“Good luck, Brice,” Riker said. “I wish I were out there with you.”
“The feelings mutual. Kellin out.”


Chapter.
“Report.”
Brice Kellin had emerged from his ready room and hovered on the bridge in front of his command chair.
Vanick stood next to Reed at the horseshoeshaped tactical console. “All decks cleared for action. Tactical array is ready. Engineering reports optimal readiness on all power systems.”
“Very good,” Kellin said, lowering himself into the leather chair. “Helm, alter course to three one six mark two four nine. Mr. Reed, begin transmitting on the diplomatic channels requesting an audience with the Romulan leadership.”
The tension on the bridge thickened as they delved deeper and deeper into Romulan space without being challenged.
“Anything on longrange?” Kellin asked.
At ops, Lieutenant Commander Varis turned around, her piercing blue eyes reflecting off the light of the panel. “Nothing sir. No warp emissions, no communications intercepts, and no residual cloaking bleed.” The young Bajoran turned back to her console and resumed her scanning.
“This is damned strange,” Vanick said. He looked to Worf. “What do you make of it Commander?”
Worf swiveled the small tactical monitor around and tapped in a series of commands. “Most unusual. There should be standard patrols near the border given the break out of hostilities. Perhaps the Romulan fleet has fallen back to secure the homeworlds in case of a Klingon reprisal.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Kellin said. “The Romulans have a fleet of thousands of ships. I doubt they would focus that much on Romulus and Remus. Helm, what’s our ETA?”
“We’ll reach Romulus in fourteen minutes,” Lieutenant Arex, a brash young Bolian replied.

“Maintain Red Alert,” Kellin said, rising from his chair.
From the starboard science station, Lieutenant Aleah Margola spun her chair around. “Captain, something’s wrong.”
“Define wrong, Lieutenant,” Kellin said.
“Romulus and Remus,” she said, her voice cracking. “They’re under attack.”

Kellin’s stomach twisted. The two worlds had been the most significant members of the Romulan Empire for the past two millenia. Their surfaces had been scorched with weapons fire.
“I am detecting lifesigns,” Margola said from Science. “Several million. But the Senate and the government districts have been vaporized. Orbital weapon platforms have been destroyed. Scanners are picking up debris from hundreds of vessels.”
Vanick turned to the officer. “Klingon weapons fire?”
“Negative,” Margola replied. “I’m trying to determine the origin at this time.”
“Captain,” said Varis from OPS. “Ship coming in bearing oh four seven mark eight. Nothing I’ve ever seen before. Computer can’t get a positive ID on it.”
“Let’s have a look at them,” Kellin said. “Get a full scan and open a channel.”
The forward viewscreen switched its orientation and revealed the massive cruiserclass vessel bursting from subspace and slowing to sublight speed and heading directly for the Saratoga.
“Almost a kilometer long,” Reed confirmed. “Tactical analysis is sketchy. At least ninetyfive phaser emitters, thirtyeight torpedo launchers.”
“Life signs?” Vanick asked.
“Two thousand lifesigns,” Reed replied. “Scanners can’t isolate them. Too much interference. But from the copper indicators in their blood, they appear to be Vulcanoid.”
Varis spun her chair around. “Captain, their quantum signature is out of phase. That vessel’s reading as a temporal divergence.”
Kellin felt a throbbing pain form behind his eyes. “Romulans from the future? Attacking their own planets?” He rose and adjusted his tunic. “Hail them.”
Reed spent several moments working the com system, frowning at the readouts. “They’re not responding sir. Captain! I’m detecting a major buildup of energy from their forward weapon ports. They’re locking weapons on us.”
“Damn it!” Kellin shouted. “Helm, warp speed: get us out of here!”
The deck plates rattled as the ship veered away and jumped to warp.
Reed’s hands danced across his board like a hyperactive spider. “They’re coming after us.”
“Go to maximum warp,” Kellin said to Arex at the conn. “Mr. Piller, give us everything you can.”
“We’re at nine point seven eight,” Arex confirmed.
“That’s the best we can do,” Piller confirmed. “If you want to keep the shields up and the weapons online.”
“Where’s the alien vessel?” Kellin asked.
“Bearing one eight four, eighteen million kilometers away and closing at warp nine point eight. They’ll enter weapons range in forty seconds.”
“Arm quantum torpedoes,” Kellin said at last. “Lock onto their engines.”
Reed nodded and confirmed the weapons lock.
“Fire,” Kellin said with a sigh. For all the good it will do.
As expected the bright globs of quantum projectiles emerged from the aft launchers and found their marks on the engine pods on the port side of the closing vessel.
The alien vessel returned fire.

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Everything on the bridge went dark. Kellin blinked several times and tried to make sense of his surroundings. The bridge was a tattered remnant of what it had been. Conduits had ruptured, the bulkheads had collapsed, and his crew were scattered about the deck unconscious or dead. Commander Worf was breathing, lying face down near the turbolift.
Kellin forced himself to a sitting position and coughed several times. Spats of blood emerged staining his hands and his uniform. The forward viewscreen was offline, replaced by static. He looked up the ceiling.
The transparent aluminum dome was gone, only a faint flickering forcefield holding in the atmosphere. “Report!” he shouted.
From a pile of debris near the port science station, Commander Vanick rose to a wobbly standing position, grabbing a chair for support. His uniform had been torn and his right arm hung limp at his side, obviously broken. He staggered up the ramp to the tactical station. Lieutenant Reed was slumped over it. Feeling for a pulse, finding nothing, Vanick pushed the body to the deck.
With this good arm he keyed several controls. “Weapons, shields, engines, lifesupport and the main computer are offline.”
“The alien vessel?” Kellin asked, clawing across the deck and pulling himself into his command chair.
“Sensors are only partially active. But they appear to be holding position twenty kilometers away.”
“What are they waiting for?” Kellin wondered. “Options?”
“Only one that I can think of, Captain. We have one transphasic warhead aboard.”
Kellin closed his eyes. At the first sign of the deadly vessel, he should have instituted that contingent. When the USS Voyager had returned to the Alpha Quadrant, they had brought with them weapons and defensive shielding from the future. Nanomoleculuar ablative armor and transphasic torpedoes.
The torpedoes were so powerful one could destroy a Borg cube. “Bridge to torpedo bay one.”
“Stevens here, sir.”
“Mr. Stevens, load the transphasic warhead in the forward tube. Lock on to the alien vessel off our port bow. Prepare to fire on my command.”
“We’ll load the warhead now, sir, but the computer will require your authorization code.”
“Understood,” Kellin said. “Computer, enable transphasic deployment, authorization Kellin Four One Delta Five. Enable.”
Stevens’ voice reverberated back over the bridge speakers. “Warhead in place, Captain. Targeting. Ready.”
Kellin rose to his feet. His bridge crew was down, countless others throughout the ship were dead or trapped behind emergency bulkheads. This was the only chance he had to save them. “Kelso: Fire.”
“Stevens to Bridge! Captain, the torpedo jammed! It’s stuck in the forward tube. It’s on a build up to detonation. It’ll exploded in one minute forty seconds!”
“Transporters?” Kellin asked.
“Offline,” Vanick said.
“Emergency saucer separation,” Kellin said after a second of hesitation. “Just blow the docking clamps and get us clear.”
“Brice!” snapped Vanick, “what about the rest of the crew...”
“If you’ve got any other suggestions I’m all ears,” Kellin said. “Computer, emergency saucer separation omega. Enable.”
Far below decks where the saucer met the stardrive the compression bolts exploded and the airlocks were blown. The primary hull of the Saratoga snapped away from her engineering hull and flew into space propelled by inertia alone. She made it three hundred forty kilometers away when the torpedo exploded.


The resulting shockwave from the destruction of the Saratoga’s expanded in every direction. The wavefront ripped through the damaged hull plates of the stardrive section tearing her warpcore apart. The antimatter explosion combined with the transphasic wave and incinerated the alien vessel. The wave, continuing to expand, struck the fleeing saucer section.
“The fusion reactors are surging!” shouted Kelso at the tactical station. “We’re coming apart at the seams.”
Kellin turned slightly to his friend and sighed. “Well, old friend, this is it. Send out the log buoy. All hands to escape pods.”
“Transporters are still online.” Kelso said. “I’ve got enough power for two.” He eyed Worf near the bulkhead. “I’ll send you and the Commander to the Voltaire; you need to get back to Federation space and warn Starfleet.”
“Kelso, I’m not leaving you here,” Kellin shouted over the deafeaning explosions erupting several decks away.
“Sorry, Brice, the ship’s got less than three minutes before she explodes. WE’ll never back it.”
“Then get me down there and I’ll beam you aboard from the runabout.”
“If you can do it in less than fifteen seconds, fine, but you’re going to need all the time you can get to get clear.” The ship lurched again. “That was deck fourteen, we’ve been completely compromised. Stand by.” He slapped the transporter controls and Worf and Kellin were enveloped.



JeanLuc Picard liked to think he was a patient man. He’d been a starship commander for nearly fifty years, commanding three different vessels. But now, sitting on the edge of the Neutral Zone with the Enterprise serving as flagship to the Fifth Fleet, he was ready to climb the bulkheads.
It’d been forty hours since the Saratoga had departed for Kronos, twenty more since they’d been heard from. So far there had not been a sound from the Romulans. The Klingons had driven them off Krios and the Romulan fleethad retreated to the distant corners of their space.
He stopped his pacing and turned as his tactical officer said his name.
“Yes, Mister Leybenzon?” he asked.
“Sir, our recon patrols have picked up a Federation runabout coming out of the Neutral Zone at low warp. They’re requesting to speak with only you. It appears to be from the Saratoga.”
Picard’s blood turned to ice. “Helm, move to intercept, but keep us in Federation space. Commander Khadahota you have bridge, I’ll be in transporter room three.”

The doors to the transporter room opened just as the columns of quantum mist formed on the pad and three Starfleet officer materialized within the confines of the Enterprise.
“Captain Kellin, Commander Vanick, Mister Worf,” Picard said. “I trust your mission did not go entirely to plan.”
Kellin, Vanick and Worf descended onto the deck and acknowledged Picard. “We were the lucky ones, I suppose,” said Kellin, his voice dark and cold. He walked towards the doors. “I’ll be in my quarters, Cpatain, I don’t wish to be disturbed. The commanders can give you the entire briefinig. I’ll let you know when I’m available.” Without another word, he left the transporter room and headed down the corridor.
Picard turned back to his first officer. “Number One?”
Worf took a deep breath. “The Saratoga was destroyed. We reached Romulus and encountered an alien vessel that had decimated the surface. Before the captain could react, the alien ship crippled the ship and Saratoga deployed their transphasic warhead. A malfunction in the launch tubes prompted and emergency saucer section.”
Picard gestured towards the exit and they headed to the bridge as Worf related the final demise of the USS Saratoga.



Federation Starship Lexington, Federation Taskforce AZ1 near the Romulan border.
“Three more coming in after the starboard aft!” shouted the tactical officer.
“Evasive helm,” said Captain Stone. “Keep up with the starboard phaser batteries and reload torpedoes.”
“Negative,” said First Officer Manning. “Weapons are offline and engines have been destroyed.”
“Send a distress call to the fleet,” the captain said. “Include our logs and scanner records. Maybe they’ll be able to…”
His last words were cut off as the starship erupted in an antimatter fireball.


“There went another one,” said Lieutenant Leybenzon. “The Lexington’s gone.”
JeanLuc Picard stood in the center of the bridge. They’d been getting reports from ships all over the sector. These futuristic Romualn vessels had been pouring out of the Neutral Zone for the past three hours destroying everything in their paths. “Signal the fleet to regroup and fall back deeper into Federation space. We can’t fight these ships and we’re losing too many people. Helm, come around and take us out, any heading, warp nine.”
Standing near the port science station Commander Kelso Vanick read the incoming data in shocked horror. “Captain, the Lexington…” his voice faltered. Picard approached him and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Go on,” Picard said.
“Their first officer. Commander Manning. She’s Captain Kellin’s wife.”
Picard felt a pain behind his eyes. Since Kellin had come aboard the Enterprise he’d secluded himself in his quarters and temporialty relieved himself of duty due to emotional distress. He’d lost his ship, his crew and now he’d lost his wife. “He needs to be told,” Picard said.
“I know,” Vanick admitted relunctantnly. “Care to come along?”
“Give me a moment,” the captain said. “Mr. Worf, contact Starfleet Command, tell them we need to convene an emergency session and determine what the hell is going on and how to respond. You have the bridge.” Worf acknolweldged and went to work. Picard turned back to Vanick. “Let’s go.”




With the lights dimmed, Brice Kellin felt he was drifting in the endless void of stars that were separated by a few inches of transparent aluminum of windows. He barely acknowledged the shift in star patterns as the ship changed course and went into warp drive. 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, Sahana. He read the names and met the faces of each of the deceased crew.
“I’m sorry,” he said mumbled, his voice hoarse from the rage he’d been expressing to this room for the past several hours.
The door chime sounded.
“Yes,” he said.
The doors parted and Vanick and Picard entered, each wearing a somber expression on their faces. Kellin spun his chair around to face them and tossed the padd on the desk. “I’m happier alone, gentlemen, this better be important.”
“Brice,” Kellin said, then stopped. “Brice, the Lexington’s been attacked by these new Romulan ships. She… she didn’t make it through.”
Kellin felt the world fall away from. It was as if the deck plating had dissapred and he was now in freefall. His eyes fell to the floor and he spoke. “Thank you telling me. Please leave.”
“Brice,” said Vanick. “You can’t just ignore this.”
“Get out!” shouted Kellin.
The two officers held their ground. Picard turned his gaze to him. “Captain, I can’t begin to know the sorrow you’re feeling now. Commander Vanick and are returning to the bridge. The Federation stands on a precdipce of an unwinnable war. Hundreds of these Romulan vessels have been detected. They’ve landed on the homeworlds and have deployed a defense perimeter across three hundred lightyears of space. We need every capable officer we can get. You swore an oath to uphold the principles of the Federation and those principles are ready to be demolished by an implacable foe. I suggest you get your priorities in order and not let your wife’s death be in vain. Stand up to her killers and make a difference.”
Without another word they both left.
Vanick rubbed at his eyes, fighting back tears. He’d come to regard Lorissa has a sister but he found he couldn’t contemplate how Brice felt. Now the Federatoin was facing a threat from some sort of temporal faction of Romulans. They were losing dozens of ships and even the transphasic torpedoes wouldn’t be enough. There simply not enough of the weapons in production to make a difference in the battle to come.

Kellin sat still for several moments after Kelso and Picard left and watched the stars. His life had been ripped from him in a matter of hours. His ship, his crew and now his wife. And the Federation was once again fighting for its very survival.
He was done with it. He stood from his chair and removed his combadge. The gold and silver emblem clattered as it fell onto the desk. Keying in his Fleet security code, Kellin removed a small phaser from the armored compartment in the bulkhead. Releasing the weapon’s safety, he 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 which colliding with the end of the ships warp nacelles, incinerating and causing the ship’s warp field to collapse as the port nacelle erupted in a phase misalignment and exploded.

Enterprise had gone to red alert without warning. Three seconds later Khadahota shouted “Hang on! We’re losing attitude control.”
Picard had been standing near the tactical station reviewing fleet updates one moment, the next he was laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.
“Phaser discharge on deck nine!” shouted Leybenzon. “Maxmimum setting. We’ve lot sections ten through fortyfour and the port nacelle’s been hit.”
Picard struggled to his feet. “Full stop!” he shouted to the helm. “Damage assessment all decks. Mr. Leybenzon, where did the phaser blast originate?”
“Deck nine, section fourteen, cabin one eight seven.”
Kelso Vanick pounded his fist on the science station. “Oh god, no! Brice!”
“Confirmed,” Khadahota said. “The captain’s quarters were the first to go. I’m not reading his biosignature anywhere on the ship.”
“Any lifesigns in that section or transporter traces?” Worf asked.
“Negative,” Khadahota replied.
“La Forge to Bridge, captain I don’t know what’s happened, but we’re in bad shape. I’ve had to shut down the warp core and the fusion reactors are on the frtiz. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon without a tow.”
“Geordi,” Picard said, “get damage control teams to deck nine. Assess the damage and file a full report. Lieutenant Leybenzon, contact the nearest Federation vessel and let them know our situation. Commander Vanick, you’re with me.”

 

[Mistral]

This is dark.....

 

[adm_gold]

Not a feel good story. But I'm interested to see where you take it.

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Chapter:
Picard’s ready room was completely quiet except for the slight hum of the life-support fans blowing within the bulkheads. Nine hours after the phaser blast, Enterprise hung dead in space. They’d received a response to their distress call and the USS Oberon was on the way to assist.
Seated at his desk and looked up a the officers gathered. Crusher, Vanick, Worf and La Forge.
“So far eighteen people confirmed dead,” Crusher said, “two missing and thirty-four injured.”
Grimacing, Picard glanced at the casualty report glowing on his screen. “We’ll have to put that aside for now. Commander La Forge, what’s our status?”
“Warp engines are gone, and I do mean gone,” Geordi said. “The port nacelle’s a lost cause and the anti-matter imbalance it’s desctruction caused has shut down the warp core. Overall we’re at thirty-four percent power. Weapons and shields are out, we’ve got primary life-support and auxiliary systems.”
“The Oberon is three light-years away,” Worf remarked. “They should reach our position by 0400 tomorrow.”
“What’s the tactical situation?” Picard asked turning his attention to Leybenzon.
The gruff security chief’s shoulders slumped. “Long-range sensors are still off-line. I’ve sent out a few class-five recon probes and they were picking up faint tachyon distortions moving near the edge of this sector. They could be cloaked ships but we can’t be sure.”
“Commander Vanick,” Picard said, “given the circumstances I think it would be best to get your information to Starfleet in person. The details your runabout is carrying regarding the Romulan vessels can’t be transmitted over subspace due to the . You should prepare for immediate departure.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Vanick said, “if this is because of what Captain Kellin did to your ship, I assure you…”
“This isn’t about trust, Commander,” Picard said. “This is about security. We have the scans of the Romulan vessels in your runabout and we’re unable to transmit them to Command in our current state.”
“But the Oberon can,” Vanick counted. “I don’t like the idea of dodging those ROmulan crusisers in nothing but a runabout.”
Picard pondered the situation. True, he wanted the data sent to Starfleet for analysis, but Starfleet vessels were engaged with these new Romulan vessels all across the border and no doubt the specifics had been captured and in far greater detail than the damaged logs from the Saratoga. Then why was he so adamant about sending Vanick offship? Because of what Kellin had done to Enterprise. “Very well, you can remain aboard as a consultant. I can always use officers of your caliber. Dismissed, everyone.”

- - -
Captain V’tillix Traiba had seen his share of battle scared and damaged vessels. But to look up on the flagship and pride of Starfleet with a three deck-wide hull breach and uncounted ruptures along her tritanium plating, it made his antennae recoil in sadness. The Andorian commander of the USS Oberon rounded the aft tactical station and hovered in front of his command chair. “She was blown to pieces all right,” he muttered, lowering himself into a sitting position.
To his right, his XO Commander Lisa Bertolii operated her auxillary console. “Maximum setting on a phaser will do that,” she commented. “I new Captain Kellin. We served together aboard DS9 before the war. I can’t imagine what would’ve caused him to do such a thing.”
“The captain was cleared fit for duty by every expert who treated him as well as the Department of Temporal Investigations,” Traiba said. “To take his own life is one thing; to do it like this,” he lifted his blue handed and gestured towards the image on the viewscreen, “that is something else entirely. Especially with the entire quadrant on the verge of war with the Romulans.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Lieuntenat Sarasota from tactical.”Captain Picard is signaling. They’ve stabilized enough for a warp tow and are ready to get underway immediately.”
“Very well,” Traiba said, smiling inwardly at Picard’s insistence. “Fire up the tractor emitters and treat her gently. Once she’s secure, set a course for Sector Zero Zero One, best possible speed.”


Chapter:
Starfleeet Command
San Francisco, CA
Earth

Jean-Luc Picard, along with Commanders Vanick and Worf were escotrted into Starfleet Commands main briefing center deep in the bowels of Headquarters. Waiting from them were a number of captains and admirals from across the quadrant, some attending by holo-conference.
“Captain Picard, welcome home,” said Admiral Owen Paris. The gregarious older man marched forward and clasped Picard’s hand and nodded to both Vanick and Worf. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece.”
Vanick looked to the floor.
“Yes, we were fortunate,” Picard replied. He moved to take his seat at the table.
“Well,” Admiral Kathryn Janeway said, “I think we’re all here. Let’s get started.” She looked to the holo-image of Captain Will Riker. “Captain Riker, with Titan fully repaired I’m sending you on a recconasisnce mission near Romulus. We have to determine the exact nature of the threat coming out of that sector.”
Riker nodded. “We’re heading out of Utopia Planita as we speak. And your people just transported off after installing that little bit of technology you procured for us.”
Janeway smiled faintly. “Yes, with the outbreak of hoslitiles and the suspsenion of diplomatic relations, we’ve voided the stipulations on cloaking devices. Along with the tranphasic torpedoes, they may be the last line of our defense against this invasion. Our hope is to outfit the entire fleet as soon as possible.”
Picard shook his head in amazement at the measures people were willing to go to when their survival was on the line. When Enterprise had made Earth orbit and docked at McKinley Station, a number of engineers had come aboard, carrying a cloaking device and orders to install it.
“Now on to the tactical situation,” Janeway said. She tapped several controls on the table’s surface and a holographic image of the Alpha Quadrant shimmered into existence. Romulus was located near the far edge near the Beta Qudrant. Several red lines indicated the invasion corridor into Federation and Klingon space. “This is what we know:
“Four days ago Romulans landed on the Klingon world of Krios, elimating the population. The Saratoga was dispatched to Romulus to make a diplomatic overture to the senate and stall any further attacks. When they arrived Romulus had been bombarded from orbit and an apparent Romulan cruiser with temporal displace properties engaged them and destroyed the ship. Captain Kellin and his first officer Commander Vanick survived and brought the data back to Enterprise.”
Vanick watched with a bit of relief as the admiral left out the tragic suicide of his captain and friend.
“So far,” Janeway continued, “we’ve lost thirty one vessels near the Neutral Zone and have lost contact with half a dozen colonies. Our long-range scanners along with Federation vessels in the vicinity have put the enemy force at the upward limits of three hundred vessels. We don’t know how they arrived in this time or what they want. All attempts at communications have failed. But they are definitely pushing towards the core of the Federation. They’ll reach Andorian space along the Tellartie frontier in twenty hours. After that they’ll be on Vulcan’s doorstep. I don’t have to remind you of the loss of life that would result in the loss of the core. They are cutting one hell of a swath and we only have one weapon that can do any good.” She threw a glance to a Lieutenant Commander in engineering yellow. “Mr. Barlcay.”
Reginald Barclay stepped forward. “Thank you ma’am.. er.. admiral.” He held up a data padd and tapped a few commands. The holographic spatial grid shifted again to what looked like a standard photon torpedo. “Many of you recognize this, some may not. This is the standard design for a transphasic torpedo brought back from Admiral Janeway’s encounters in the Delta Quadrant. We’ve begun mass-producing them, but we’re still only going to be able to get a handful ready by the time the Romulan fleet reaches Andoria.”
The were several murmurs around the room. From another holo-image, the lithe form of Captain Mackenzie Calhoun of the Excalibur cleared his throat. “Admiral, it seems like you don’t have much of a plan than just preparing for the attack and hoping for the best.”
Janeway clasped her hands and placed them on the table. “Starfleet Command is putting all of our rescources into repelling this invasion, Cpatain. What more would you propose?”
Calhoun didn’t miss a beat. “Send in a team, commandeer one of their ships and find out who they are, where they come from and demand what they want.”
“Quite the mission,” Admiral Paris said. “And what do you propose we do if that fails?”
“You’re the admirals,” Calhoun said, crossing his arms. “Besides, it won’t fail. These types of things never do if you assign it to Picard.”
Jean-Luc Picard looked up at the younger man whom he’d met more than twenty-five years ago on the planet Xenex. Back then, Calhoun had been M’K’nzy of Calhoun, a ruthless warlord who led his people against the oppressive regime of the Danteri who had enslaved Calhoun’s world for decades.
“Your confidence in me is quite flattering, Captain,” Picard said. “However, Enterprise will be in repair dock for some time.”
Calhoun shrugged. “The logistics are your problem, Jean-Luc, but I know if you can get yourself aboard, it will work out. Call it a hunch.”
Someone snorted from across the room. It was the holo-image of Admiral Elizabeth Shelby, commander Starbase Bravo and Calhoun’s wife. “Says you,” she said. “But he’s right,” she said turning to Janeway. “We need to make contact with these people and demand to know what they want. We can’t just let them into the heart of the Federation.”
Picard stood. “I volunteer,” he said. “I’ll need transport and a specialized team, but I would like to try.”
Janeway looked around. “It’s worth a try. In the meantime, we’ll consolidate the fleet, arm them with the transphasic torpedoes and make our stand at the border. Heaven help us all.”

 

[Mistral]

You would benefit from a proof-reader but overall its a good story you are telling. I look forward to the next chapter.

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

She stood, indicating the meeting was over. The holo-images faded out and the room began to clear. “Captain Picard, Commander Vanick, a moment please.”
Picard and Vanick remained at the table until everyone had filed out.
“Commander,” Janeway began, “my condolences on the loss of your friend. It was a tragedy.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.
“I want you to know that Starfleet doesn’t hold you responsible or harbor any misgivings regarding you. To that end, the Starship Stargazer is available and we’d like you to take command.”
Vanick’s eyebrows perked up and he glanced at Picard. The Stargazer had been the captain’s first command, albeit an old Constellation-Class cruiser. The Stargazer-A was a new Intrepid-Class vessel much like Janeway’s Voyager. “I’d be honored, sir,” he managed.
“Good. I’ll put through the orders and your promotion to captain will be effective immediately. And for your first assignment, you’ll help Captain Picard complete his mission.”

-- - -


Jean-Luc Picard stuffed the data padds and collection of isoleniar optical chips into the case and snapped the lid closed. He scooped up another pile of padds and put them in his duffel bag, sealing shut.
“Jean-Luc, this is crazy.”
He smiled and turned back to Beverly Crusher. “I agree, it’s a bit unortodox, but that’s the point. These Romulans will never expect us to act so brazen that we’d infiltrate one of their ships like a gang of pirates. Besides, it’s a bit of poetic irony, being ferried out aboard the Stargazer.”
Crusher crossed her arms. “Who are you taking with you?”
“Worf,” he replied.
She looked at him expectantly. “And…?”
“Worf,” Picard said.
“Just the two of you?”
“Beverly,” he said, taking her arms and pulling her close. “The Stargazer has a full crew complement. Everyone aboard Enterprise is needed to oversee repairs. You’ll be in command until I get back.”
“You will be coming back,” she said vehemently.
“Of that I have no doubt.”

/ / / /

“Begin Captain’s Personal Log Captain Kelso Vanick, USS Stargazer, Stardate 64432.5: I never thought I’d rise to captain like this. My best friend killed himself upon learning about the death of his wife, taking more than a dozen crewmembers of the Enterprise with him. Now I’m alone and in command of a vessel whose captain was killed by a parasitic infection on an uncharted planet. My new first officer, Commander Elizabeth Keegan keeps giving me condescending glances and is no doubt upset I was given command of Stargazer over her. A lot of the officers have been giving me distrusting glances and reactions. Or maybe it’s my imagination. Normally a new captain has a period of adjustment with a new crew but we’ve not been granted such luxuries.
This Romulan invasion that’s sprung out of nowhere has the entire Federation rattled. Our mission is so dangerous that the specialists at HQ refused to run any simulations on success. The tactical situation is grave. The enemy fleet is advancing across the frontier and is twelve hours away from Andorian space. Stargazer’s been outfitted with a full complement of transphasic torpeoes, which constitutes three weapons given the current shortage, as well as a Class-Twelve cloaking device which has just been activated. We departed spaceodck with Captain Picard and Commander Worf less than forty minutes ago and we’ve set a course for the enemy fleet’s last known position at maximum warp.
Whatever happens, whatever we find, I and my crew will give our all and find out the cause of this invasion.”
- - -
Worf didn’t like to sit. He wanted to remain in motion, always prepared to spring into action at a moment’s notice. All those years standing at tactical on the Enterprise-D had been ideal for him. Then with his transfer to DS9 and commanding the Defiant, then on to his ambassadorial duties on Kronos and now his position as XO on Enterprise had forced him to sit.
He hated it.
That’s why, now, he stood in the observation lounge near the viewports while the rest of the senior staff including Picard and Vanick sat around the large conference table.
“We think we can lower the annular confinement beam to just above the safety margins,” Commander Lerosa, the ship’s Denobulan chief engineer was saying to Vanick and Picard. “That should be narrow enough to punch the transporter beam through their shields and armored plating and get the package inside.”
Lieutenant Xi Tian the chief of security and tactical officer stood next to Lerosa at the small viewscreen that held the image of the futuristic Romulan cruiser. “We’ll be sending in a number of refitted photon grenades. They’ve been modified to emit a psionic disruption field that will cause immediate unconsciousness in Vulcanoids.”
“That’s all well and good,” Vanick said, “but our first goal to isolate one vessel from a fleet of dozens. From what our long-range scanners have detected, they’re traveling in a pack like a bunch of rabid wolves.”
Tian sighed loudly, blowing air between his lips. “WE’ve isolated what appears to be the command ship, and we’ll wait until they are passing through the Regulan Badlands to strike. That should blind them enough to cripple the ship and extend our cloaking shields around them. The rest of the fleet will either remain behind and search the area or continue on towards Andoria.”
Vanick seethed at the insuborniate tone. “You’re tone’s out of line, Mister, but I like the plan. I just want to be kept in the loop.”
Nodding, Tian deactivated the viewscreen and returned to his seat. “We’ll reach the Regulan Badlands in three hours twenty minutes, about thirty-one minutes ahead of the Romulan fleet. That will give us enough time to find our cover and plot their entrance into the area.”
Vanick stood. “Very good. I want all hands at the ready and a full check of all systems. This attack will have absolutely no margin for error. I do have on addendum, once we cripple the Romulan ship and cloak it, I want a tractor beam thrown on it and an emergency warp course set for Starbase Two Four Nine. They’re only eighteen minutes away at warp nine and it’s a large enough facility to house the Romulan ship so we don’t have to hang around the area. Good luck everyone, dismissed.”
As the officers filed out, Worf followed them, leaving Picard and Vanick alone.
“They’re not acclimating very well are they?” Vanick asked.
“They’ll come around,” Picard said. “Commander Keegan didn’t say a word but her body language indicated she was approving of your command style. Give them time. It took me seven years to establish a familial relationship with my command crew on the Enterprise.”
“Thank you, sir,” Vanick said. “I’ll do my best.” He looked down at a padd on the table. “Looks like we’ve got a communiqué from the Titan.” He picked up the device and thumbed it on. “It’s not looking good…”

- - -
USS TITAN
APPROACHING ROMULUS
Will Riker didn’t think he’d be back in Romulan space so soon, but here he was. Titan had been repaired and her crew had done their usual spectactular performance in getting her back up to operating specs.

 

[Mistral]

ok, keep going...

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

USS TITAN
APPROACHING ROMULUS
Will Riker didn’t think he’d be back in Romulan space so soon, but here he was. Titan had been repaired and her crew had done their usual spectactular performance in getting her back up to operating specs.

He stood next to Commander Tuvok at tactical. The incoming sensor telemetry was flashing across several monitors as Titan closed on the ravaged homeworld. “There are only a few thousand life-signs,” Tuvok said. “Approximately ninety percent of the surface has been bombared with high-yield energy weapons.”
“Any other ships in the area?” Riker asked.
“Negative,” Tuvok said. “However, the amount of starship debris and the interference fields of the cloaking device have hampered sensors.”
Commander Vale rose from her seat and moved to the OPS station and checked the readings. “Which means that if we drop the cloak and beam down to the surface there’s a damned good chance there could be one of those new cruisers lying in wait.”
“I don’t think so,” Riker said. “I think that for what ever reason they attacked the homeworlds, they’re done with them.”
From the Security station, the Trill Lieutenant Commander Keru spoke up. “What I don’t understand is if these are Romulans from the future, why’d they attack their own homeworlds? WOuldn’t that change the timestream?”
“Fair questions,” Riker said. “I hope to find some answers down there. Tuvok, localize transporters on the Senate district. Commander Vale, the ship is yours. Drop the cloak for as long as it takes us to beam down. Mr. Keru, Commander Troi, you’re with me. Have a security team meet us transporter room five.”
As he strode towards the lift, he turned back and spoke to Vale in a hushed tone. “If one of those ships is hiding out there and makes it’s prescense known, the away team’s expendable. If you’re outmatched, take Titan and get the hell out of here. Set a course for Federation space and don’t look back.”
Vale swallowed visibly. “Understood. Good luck, Captain.”
- - -

The away team materialized in a ringed formation, back to back, weapons drawn and ready for anything. What they found was the smoldering ruins of the ROmulan capital city of Ki Baratan. Riker’s nostrils flared at the smell of death. It was the smell that twenty five years of duty through war and peace he’d never get used to.
The security team, consisting of Brea, Sallin and Mackenize, fanned out and flipped open their tricorders and swept them about. Riker held his hand to his shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. The Hall of State lay in smoldering ruins less than a kilometer away. He checked his own tricorder. Deanna stood at his side. “There are definintely people alive,” she said, “I can sense them.”
“Captain, over here,” Keru said. He was squatting down, running his scanner over a metal hatch embedded within the stone street. “I’m picking up a scattering field around this hatch, but it could be the entrance to some sort of bunker.”
Riker joined the security chief and lowered himself, feeling for a seal in the hatch. “Could be the military command bunker. Can you get it open?”
Keru worked feverishly at his tricorder. The small screen blinked green three times, followed by several loud pops erupted from the hatch and the air pressure equalized with an ear thrumming roar. The hatch swung away, revealing a darkened tunnel and a single metal-runged ladder.
Grimacing, Riker gestured down, “I don’t relish the idea of climbining down there into the dark.” He slapped his communicator. “Riker to Titan.”
A static-filled rush of interfence responded back.
“It’s the scattering field," Keru said, standing.
“Perfect, just perfect,” Riker said. He pulled his phaser from his belt, checked the charge and set it for maximum stun. He point to Keru then the hatchway. “After you Lieutenant.”
Riker’s boots clamped along the metal hallway at the bottom of the ladder and he started marching down the dimly lit tunnel. He could make out the muffled sound of voices. He gestured to the guards when they came to a door.
Keru slapped the control pad on the doors sliid into the wall.
Several Romulans were working at consoles, reading incoming sensor data and operating what looked like tactical stations. A tall figure witih graying black hair pointed an aged finger at the largest of the display screens. “Coordinate with this fighter wing and recall our reconisance probes. And lock down the primary com line.” He stopped speaking and turned to face the new comers.
“Captain Riker,” he said. “Welcome back to Romulus.”
Riker felt his breath catch in his throat. The man standing before him was a legend a century over and one of the most recognizable faces in Federation history.
“Ambassador Spock.”

- - -

Starbase 249
Picard stood along the upper observation platform within the docking bay of Starbase 249 and watched as Starfleet security crews formed up in EVA suits and checked their weapons status.
The operation had been a qualified success. Stargazer had pounced on the closing Romulan fleet, rendered the crew unconscious and high tailed it out of the Regulan Badlands and made their way here.
“We’re ready to open it up and head inside.”
Picard spun to see Captain Vanick approaching with Admiral Janeway, who’d headed out here once Stargazer had docked. They’d been aboard less than an hour and the final preparations were being made. Like Picard, both Vanick and Janeway were clad in white EVA suits, both carrying helmets under their arms. Picard reached down to the deck and hefted his own helmet and attached it, cycling in the atmosphere systems. He checked his arm controls and equalized the air pressure and did a triple check of his magnetic boots. He keyed the com unit and gestured towards the oversized transporter pad. “Let’s get on with it.”
The twenty man security team went first. Three minutes later, Picard, Vanick and Janeway beamed to the crippled battleship. The darkened corridors had a definite ‘Romulan’ feel to them, the harsh green light from emergency illuminators were the only thing functiong.
When the explosives had been beamed aboard, a spike in the plasma field of the badlands had corrupted one of the transporter buffers and a half dozen photon grenades had materialized within the life-support control systems causing them the explode. Three hundred of the three hundred fifty Romulans had been killed until Stargazer was far enough away from the fleet that they could risk dropping the cloak long enough to beam the survivors to a secured cargo bay. The unconscious Romulans had been placed in stasis and remained so in the Starbase’s infirmary.
Admiral Janeway had ordered them kept under until they could take a look at the ship and try to figure out just exactly what they were dealing with.
After several minutes of wandering the corridors, Lieutenant Commander Roan Murcana, the Starbase’s chief of security returned to their postion. “The ship has been secured,” he said flatly. “We’ve found the bridge and the engineering teams have beamed aboard and started the memory dumps.” He pulled his trcorder from the adhesion strip on his belt. “I think we also found the commander’s quarters if you’ll come with me.”
They followed Murcana down a long stretch of corridor before coming to a large set of double doors. Commander Lerosa, Stargazer’s chief engineer stood behind a large computer terminal running through a series of scans with her tricorder. “Ah,” she said, turning. “Captains, Admiral. Just in time. I’ve downloaded the commander’s personal logs and his mission and where they come from.” Her face fell into a frown. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Commander,” Janeway said. “Out with it.”
Lerosa set the tricorder down and tapped a series of commands into the console. “These beings are in fact a group of temporal soldiers from approximately three hundred fifty years in the future. They’ve been sent back to destroy the Romulan Empire and secure the Alpha and Beta Quadrants for a war that will occur centuries from now in which galactic civilization will collapse to an unkown foe from another galaxy. They are trying to establish their own coalation to change that future. They claim it’s the logical way to save the galaxy.”
“I don’t like where this is heading,” Vanick said.
“Neither do I,” Lerosa replied. “These people aren’t Romulans. They are Vulcan.”

 

[Mistral]

Nice! Interesting twists along the way. I think you will be hard pressed coming up with a logical reason for bombing Romulus back to the stone age, though. I look forward to your solution.

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Chapter:
“Andoria has fallen.”
The grim words, transmitted through subspace relays across the Federation hushed the large operations center of Starbase 249. on the viewscreen, Fleet Admiral Leonard James Akaar, a hulking solider from Capella IV, stood on the bridge of his battered vessel, Hornet, a powerful Promethus-Class cruiser. “Enemy losses were insginfifant and we lost ninety percent of the Second Fleet. We’ve retreated, regrouped at Tellar Prime and are making forays against enemy picket ships and trying to throw off their landing forces.”
“Then they are landing troops,” Janeway said. “Not just orbital bombardment like Romulus.”
“Yes,’ their landing batallions,” Akaar said. “The Andorians are putting up a stiff fight, but they won’t be able to hold out indefinntely.”
Janeway shook her head. “The Klingons are sending a fleet of ground troops. They’ll land and do what they can.”
“It’ll be interesting. The enemy fleet seems to have consolidated around the system and they appear to be licking their wounds. Long-range probes have picked up self-replicating repair docks being deployed. They could be some sort of nano-starship construction facilities.”
“Just what we need,” Janeway said, “more of those damned ships. You’ll be interested to know, LJ, they aren’t Romulans. They’re a faction of Vulcans. I’m transmitting the specficis to you now. The Department of Temporal Investigatoins are sending a team to Vulcan to find a way to restore the timeline and prevent this from happening. “We’re also utilizing our assets on Forever World.”
Akaar took in all of the information. After more than a century of life, it was doubtful anyting could surprise him anymore, but the realization about the Vulcans left him stunned. “Keep me updated, Kathryn. Akaar out.”
Janeway turned from the deactivated viewcreen to face Picard. “There you have it. What more can we do?”
Picard crossed his arms. “I would surmise that hour specialists on Forever World may be our best hope of finding the vergence in the timeline. What about the Vulcan crew? Have they talked?”
“No,” Janeway conceded. “I’ve requested a specialized interrogation team from Betazed, but they’re thirty hours away at maximum warp.”
From the upper command platfor, Captain Regitz, commander of Starbase 241 exited his office. “Admiral, there’s a ship coming in at warp nine and they’re demanding to speak with Picard.”
“Who is it?” Janeway asked.
“USS Titan, and they claim to have Ambassador Spock aboard.”

- - -
Titan docked along the upper airlock near the main recreation center of the starbase. Picard waited anxiously at the end of the gangway as the airlocks pressurized and slid open. Riker, Troi, Tuvok and Spock emerged from the ship and headed towards him.
“Will, Deanna, welcome,” he said. “Mr. Tuvok, good to see you. Ambassador Spock, your arrival could not have come at a better time.”
“I come to serve,” Spock said.
“Come with me,” Picard said, gesturing towards a bank of turbolifts. As they began their journey, he turned his attention to the ambassador. “What were you doing on Romulus when it was attacked?”
“I was working with the Unificationists on a new plan to enter the political arena. Anti-Federation sentiment within the Senate had been fading over the last few years and it seemed a good time to move. When the orbital bombardment began, we offered fleeing senators refuge in our underground complex we’ve used. We established a command bunker and coordinated fleet operations once the military leaders had all been killed. I took operational command of a detachment of warbirds that remained loyal to our movement.”
“Do you know the attacking fleets are Vulcans and not Romulans?”
“Yes,” Spock said. “Captain Riker made me aware of that on our way here. I find myself… distressed. I cannot explain it. I would like to speak with the leader of the vessel you captured.”
Picard smiled as they entered the turbolift. “Then you’re in luck. That’s exactly where we going. Brig,” he snapped.
- - -
Commander Voroth, captain of the Vulcan Expeditionary Cruiser Shi’Kar woke with a jolt of anger and he found himself in a prison cell. He smiled grimly at the archaic Federation architecture. His last memory had been leading his fleet throughthe Regulan Badlands for their assault on the Andorians.
Now he awoke here: no doubt a Starfleet space station. Two guards trimmed in gold stood outside the cell, their arms at parade rest behind their backs. He pulled himself to a sitting postion and cleared his dry throat. He sensed something, and looked out through the forcefiled at a set of large duranium doors that parted admitting four people, one of whom made him smile. He stood and approached the field barrier.
“Ambassador Spock,” he said proudly. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The Vulcan statesmen’s eyebrows arched inquisitively. “Indeed. From what I have read, there is noting pleasurable about your actions in this region of space. “
“From your perspective,” Voroth said, “I am sure that is so. However, you are the catalyst for this entire conflict.”
Spock didn’t even flinch. “I find it difficult to believe any actions I could have or will take in the future could cause all of Vulcan society to throw off two thousands years of peace and logic and launch an unprovoked attack on the entire galaxy.”
Shaking his head, Voroth expanded his arms. “Don’t you see, Spock? Your dream came true. Vulcan and Romulus unified. A glorious chapter in peaceful coexistence spread across the galaxy like a rippling tide. And in doing so, we fell as a civilization. From a dark corner of the galaxy, a threat that had been growing since the dawn of our space age waited for us. They launched an attack on us that was so violent and swift, most of the major worlds of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants were spinning balls of dirt before we could even mount a defense. And all of that, was due to the short sighted actions of a Vulcan diplomat in the twenty fourth century.” He slapped his fist to his chest. “We’ve come back to correct that mistake. Our first option was to simply kill you, but we knew that some idealistic fool would only take your place. No. We’ve come back to establish order and fortify this region for the foreseeable future. And none of you will be able to stop us.”

Without saying another word, he reached into the fold of his tunic and pulled out a small pink tablet and swallowed it. The felodesine chip. The fast-moving poison killed him instantly.

 

[Mistral]

Coll, but what's Forever World? the Guardian's planet?

 

[Saratoga NX-3842]

Coll, but what's Forever World? the Guardian's planet?

That'd be the place

 

[adm_gold]

OK. I'm interested to see how this goes forward. I'm expecting that the final conclusion to stopping the future Vulcans will not be to easy a solution.