Updated – January 29, 1999
THE FIRST MISSION
Prologue
Stardate 18406.13
In the over one hundred and fifty years of Federation history the Keves Sector has stayed remarkably quiet. Not near the main routes taken by starships it hardly bares a need for a name. Still, in the past fourteen years of the General War it has seen a massive influx of traffic. Eleven times Klingons forces have sped through it at high warp incurring deeply into the Federation frontiers. Much to the relief of the Federation citizenry, each time Starfleet has fought them back again.
Fourteen years of war is an eternity to most and this war had yet to resolve anything. Well, it had banded the galactic powers into two massive coalitions, even drawing the reclusive Tholians out into the fray.
Back and forth, the war had time and again seemed lost. One year, the Earth seemed on the verge of invasion. The next year, Romulus was madly entrenching its core systems, awaiting the inevitable.
Billions were dead; borders were shifting and battered, leaving none with the advantage for long. One plot after another came and went. Daring missions were undertaken, but changed nothing in the end. Doomsday weapons were rumored to be in the works by all sides and all powers, but thankfully nothing materialized. But one always had to wonder. People had also begun to wonder if this war could possibly end without the genocide of one of the sides. Nothing seemed to have lasting impact, except lists of the dead.
On this stardate, while the Klingons had not struck through the Keves Sector, they were passing through it, racing to their lines. They aren’t alone though. Following close behind the forty-three battlecruisers and escorts are seventy-two Federation starships, a fleet of heavy cruisers, dreadnaughts, carriers, and escorts. This mass of vessels fly through Keves at high warp, engaged in an intense battle. Salvos of torpedoes and lancing phaser and disruptor blasts buffet against their respective shielding and hulls.
The Klingons had expected that Deep Space 16 to be an easy target. Its usual compliment of ships was reduced by needs in other areas along the Klingon front. The eighty ships they sent in for this mission should and would have been enough to destroy the starbase, it’s remaining defenders, and cause massive damage to at least a few nearby worlds. It would have been a painful loss for the Federation in an already bloody and costly war. Unfortunate for the Klingons, Starfleet Intelligence wanted and intended to weaken DS16, to give the Klingons an appetizing target to lash out at. This way the Klingons would act to exact revenge and try to reverse their fortunes as they sat. Then Starfleet would pounce and cut the Klingon fleet down, further weakening the Imperial Space Force. The Klingon fleet eagerly walked into the trap, eager to win a decisive battle with the Federation forces pressing them hard all along the front. Victory, honor, and a chance to spill more human blood were too tempting a set of gifts to not take.
Half of the 3rd fleet of Starfleet met them outside and struck a hard blow. The Klingon fleet was split in two, half caught in the midst of the Federation ships and methodically cut down. The remaining 43 ships reversed course and found additional Starfleet vessels from the 3rd fleet incoming along their entrance route. The Klingon general in command tried to pull his free forces together and pulled them away from the Federation vessels that vastly outnumbered them. He already knew the trapped ships were lost and that he was only a short time from being lost as well. Also his planned and analyzed escape route was cut off. So, he set course for Keves, the last best option left him. So, the Klingons again find themselves in this sector. Attempting to reach their lines and support, they were throwing as much firepower back as possible, to slow or destroy the incoming Federation ships, intent on their own destruction.
The U.S.S. Republic shot forward, dodging and maneuvering around the salvos fired. Torpedoes detonated around the ship causing some disruption of the ship’s shielding. Engineering worked fast to compensate for any surges and overloads, limiting any loss in shielding.
The Klingons had been beaten, bested, and humiliated. Admiral William Devaney didn’t consider this adequate return for this endeavor. Sitting rigidly in the Republic’s captains’ chair, he barked orders and sent his fleet forward. He had no intention of letting any Klingons survive this and he knew he get that.
In the fight near DS16, he’d lost a number of ships catching and detaining that first half of the Klingon fleet. A few good crews were lost, but he’d already confirmation from his people on the scene that all the Klingon ships that had been cornered were destroyed and all ships capable of pulling out were and heading to their position. It was enough to make him smile.
The Klingons were on the ropes and each time they drew them into a mismatched fight, the Imperial Space Force dwindled all the more. Soon enough Kronos would be a dead gutted out rock in space.
Looking over at the Andorian communications officer, he hoped to see confirmation of the final stage of his plan.
Noticing the admiral’s attention, the pale blue lieutenant quickly nodded, “We’ve received word, sir. Captain Reynolds is bringing in Omega.”
Looking back at the forward viewscreen his self-assured smile grew. Perfect Unable to aid their brethren trapped and hopelessly outnumbered, the Klingon ships they were charging had set course for home. The Klingons needed all of their ships to fight the Federation’s coalition, so they really had no other choice. It all had to be a grand slap in the face of their Klingon honor, but that made the game all that much more enjoyable. Now, as long as Devaney’s fleet was just in pursuit the Klingons had a fighting chance. This was about to change.
Devaney had had his chief attaché, Reynolds, sit back with the remainder of the 3rd fleet. Halved and on the run the Klingons were in a fury. At this point they were ripe for a fight. Only duty to save their empire held them in any sense of check. If Reynolds held to Devaney’s plan, he’d be appearing any minute, ahead of the Klingons. No escape for the wicked. Seeing they were lost, the Klingons would break and fight it out. None of them would be seeing home again.
Already he could see the rear escorts of the Klingons breaking off and thrustering at his fleet. Obviously the Klingons had picked up his little surprise on their long-range sensors. They’d hope that the escorts could distract the Federation vessels, slow them down, or do a good amount of damage. Nothing is going to stop this., Devaney thought.
Bellowing at the weapons’ officer, Devaney said, “Sweep those pawns off the board.”
The young Rigellian officer reached out across the weapons’ board to the phaser controls. Reaching it he targeted the lead escort heading at the Republic. Having achieved a lock, he hit the fire control. Nothing happened.
The weaponeer looked quickly at the console, touching the button again. Nothing. Agitated, he repeatedly hit it, harder, scanning the diagnostics to see if their was any sign of malfunction or new damage. Looking up at the Admiral, he excitedly said, “Sir, the weapons aren’t responding.” Trying to activate the proton torpedo firing mechanism, he found that they failed to come alive as well.
The Admiral stared at the lieutenant for a moment, shocked and caught completely off guard. Looking out at the viewscreen, Admiral Devaney yelled into the intercom for Engineering. “Savos, what the hell’s…” He paused taking in the sight before him. His ship wasn’t alone in its silence. All of his fleet had gone quiet. Could this be part of some new Klingon countermeasure? He quickly dismissed this as unlikely, all the Klingon vessels had stopped firing as well.
Devaney tightly gripped the armrests of his command chair as he rose to stand. “Savos, I need answers, immediately.”
As he listened to the bustling of Engineering as they tried to piece this puzzle together, he strode over to the weapons’ console on his left. Looking at it and the young man, everything seemed to be in order, except nothing worked. Why was this happening? Looking up again at the viewscreen, the escorts continued to approach. Even if they had no disruptors, they could still ram him. About to order evasive maneuvers, he was stunned again as the flight of escorts vanished from the viewscreen.
Devaney looked at the screen in disbelief, “No! They have some sort of cloaking device?”
This was news to him. It could change the tide of the war if it is true. How could his agents have missed this?
Again an alternative flashed in his mind. If the Klingons have such a device, why only use it now? They would have charged across the frontier pressing deep into Federation space, not use it as a last resort on a doomed mission. It could just be chance that it was here now as well, before they were ready to strike. Still, this didn’t ring true to him. What was happening to his beautiful little plan? As he expected the main Klingon disappeared as well, as his second team approached it.
As Admiral Devaney returned to his chair to piece this little mystery together the ship’s lights suddenly dimmed to near total darkness. “What in the…”
Devaney cut himself off as a glowing form appeared before the viewscreen. It all came together now, the weapons’ failure, the vanishing ships, and now this figure. He knew what this was, he wasn’t pleased. Organians.
This glowing form quickly manifested itself. A plain pale face emerged over a medium sized body. A simple tunic began to spring forth from the light, yellowish, then slowly turning light green. Simple short greyish-black hair manifested itself atop the form's head. Finally, as his brown eyes opened, he folded his hands together before him.
Scowling out at his audience, he began, “I shall assume you are aware that I am appearing on all of your warships, worlds, and bases. I shall also hope you are aware of who I represent as I come to stand before you all now.” He paused for a moment, scanning the bridge. “Good. Now, in nearly fifteen years of war, has nothing been learned? Your ships are more rapid, your torpedoes are more detrimental, but what of your minds and souls? What has become of them? It seems as a whole that you are only able to master one subject. We Organians stepped into your little fight once before, to prevent the coming onslaught of annihilation that you were proudly readying to rain on yourselves and others. Now, again you do this. Part of us had hoped the pain you’ve inflicted on yourselves would have brought you a measure of sane sense. Yet here you all are here. So we must, regretfully, step into your paltry galactic matters again.”
During the Organian’s introduction and declaration, Devaney stayed quiet, and fumed. He couldn’t believe their timing. They show now. Sure. Great. Where were they during the border massacres and the bloody battles? Now. Now when they were winning and the Klingons war machine was breaking down. Now when the edge was Starfleet’s.
He couldn’t stand it. Away from his chair, he growled slightly, saying, “Unbelievable!”
The Organian had begun explaining how’d they had moved all of the various coalitions’ vessels to their respective territory, hence explaining the Klingons’ disappearance from the battlefield. Starting into their expectations for the races involved in this war, the form seemed to take slight notice of Devaney’s outburst.
Suddenly, as the form continued it points, a second form separated itself from the first glowing figure, stepping away towards the admiral. This form looked a great deal like the original Organian, except lacking the grey in his hair and having a short beard on his face. He had as serious a look to his face and scowled a bit, focusing on the admiral. The young helmsman, between the Organian and the admiral, reflexively rose, to stand in defense. He vanished, instantly.
Devaney angrily stepped forward to where the helmsman had stood. Acting unmoved by the sudden emergence of the Organian, he demanded, “What have you done to my man? Bring him back!”
Gruffly speaking, the Organian crossed his arms, “Oh calm yourself, admiral. The young man, Thastas M’gtan has been seriously doubting he’d ever return home and keep his vow to finally see and meet his newborn son. I merely ensured he didn’t fail in that vow. Or have your mass of ignorance and foolhardiness cause this. He is at home, with his family, beloved, and child, which is where you all should be. You’re all always so busy with these little wars. Grow up. It’s the day of armistice. Peace happens, be happy. I know most doubt your able to, but consider trying it out.”
“How dare you come in here acting like gods telling us how to act and live.”
Sighing, the Organians replied, “Please, if you want a semantics match, talk to my wooden friend there. Me? I just want you to shut up. I suppose I should put that more grandly for you, but that would most likely be lost on you. Of all people, you were there when this all began, when we first acted. You saw how you were sailing headlong into this war all those years ago. You were barely preserved. And here you are now. Older, more bloated, more powerful, with the same mouth and attitude. You choose blindness.”
“It’s easy…”
“You seem I care any longer to hear what you have to say. Besides, if you choose to be blind, couldn’t you be mute as well?”
Devaney glared at the being.
“Whatever your positions now, whatever your leaders say, whatever your grand plans show, one thing, above all, matters now. This is over. The war, the aggression against one another, the senseless slaughter, it is no more. This ends now.”
*****
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