Saratoga NX-3842
Supreme Overlord of the Universe
“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’t get away for that long.”
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 rendeouvse 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 Galaxy-Class 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, Toros III 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 light-years from Solonis, it’d take four weeks of travel roundtrip to make the journey. The doors parted as he stepped onto the elliptical-shaped 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 deceleationg image of a Sovereign-Class 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 site,” 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 Jean-Luc 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, fifteen 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.
<> <>
Jean-Luc 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 indicate 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 USS 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. 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 trained 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’ve been rerouted to Kronos.”
“Can’t Kelso handle it? He’s been your first officer since you took command. He’s qualified.”
“Captain Picard said 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 with 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.”
Chapter:
The Saratoga proceeding 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 old diplomatic contacts 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.”
/ / /
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 anti-intoxicant 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 of departure!”
“Chancellor!” Kellin snapped. “Give me my time! I can end this!”
Martok raged with fury. “You are telling me not to respond to an act of war.”
“Chancellor,” Kellin said, “the Romulans can be dealt with. They are baiting you into responding. If you do, you’ll be destroyed. They have thalaron weapons. They can reduce your fleet to dust in a single volley.”
“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.”
“Forty-eight hours is better than nothing,” Vanick said quickly, defusing his captain’s frustrations.
“Kellin to Saratoga,” the captain said into his combadge. “Set a course for the Romulan Neutral Zone, maximum warp. Three to beam up.”
/ / /
“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 long-range 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. I have us on Yellow Alert. Before we cross over, I suggest contacting the Titan. She’s near us and Captain Riker has been and the forefront of the negations for the past six months.”
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.”
“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’t get away for that long.”
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 rendeouvse 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 Galaxy-Class 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, Toros III 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 light-years from Solonis, it’d take four weeks of travel roundtrip to make the journey. The doors parted as he stepped onto the elliptical-shaped 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 deceleationg image of a Sovereign-Class 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 site,” 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 Jean-Luc 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, fifteen 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.
<> <>
Jean-Luc 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 indicate 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 USS 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. 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 trained 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’ve been rerouted to Kronos.”
“Can’t Kelso handle it? He’s been your first officer since you took command. He’s qualified.”
“Captain Picard said 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 with 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.”
Chapter:
The Saratoga proceeding 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 old diplomatic contacts 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.”
/ / /
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 anti-intoxicant 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 of departure!”
“Chancellor!” Kellin snapped. “Give me my time! I can end this!”
Martok raged with fury. “You are telling me not to respond to an act of war.”
“Chancellor,” Kellin said, “the Romulans can be dealt with. They are baiting you into responding. If you do, you’ll be destroyed. They have thalaron weapons. They can reduce your fleet to dust in a single volley.”
“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.”
“Forty-eight hours is better than nothing,” Vanick said quickly, defusing his captain’s frustrations.
“Kellin to Saratoga,” the captain said into his combadge. “Set a course for the Romulan Neutral Zone, maximum warp. Three to beam up.”
/ / /
“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 long-range 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. I have us on Yellow Alert. Before we cross over, I suggest contacting the Titan. She’s near us and Captain Riker has been and the forefront of the negations for the past six months.”
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.”
