Star Trek Online

In the Shadows of War

Chapter 2

The Admiral in question stood at the back of the bridge, arms folded behind his back, and a pleasant grin on his face. Everything about the human announced that he was a career Starfleet officer. His dark black hair was cut short and cropped, matching the trimmed style of his goatee. His posture bespoke of authority and confidence, amplified by a uniform that was crisp and pristine. The long black admiral's coat he wore was not standard issue, but it suited the demeanor of a no nonsense superior officer. Stevaan straightened slightly out of propriety, but the smile he gave the Admiral was nothing but friendly. Darin Baasch had been one of Stevaan's best friends during his first posting out of the academy, and was the singular reason he had not only been given his own command, but one of his choosing. As Admiral Baasch walked down to where the group stood, he took in the current state of the bridge.

"Things coming along well I hope? Not interrupting anything critical am I, Captain Daar?"

Stevaan reached out a hand to shake, and the Admiral took it readily and vigorously.

"Not at all, Admiral. The Commander and I were just finishing up."
Admiral Baasch released Stevaan's hand and turned his attention to the Commander and her aide.

"Ah yes, Commander T'Sha. A pleasure to meet you. I have been reading up on your reports. You have my compliments and respect for managing such a large project with such precision."

Commander T'Sha nodded her head slowly and softly, with the closest thing to humility Stevaan had ever seen. As she looked up, she glanced at him, then quickly to Baasch, then back to him. He could only assume that she was trying to puzzle out what had brought a Rear Admiral out to her refit project. From her looks, Stevaan had a feeling that she was placing the reason squarely at his feet. T'Sha did not raise any questions though, if she had any, and politely excused herself to the Admiral. With a last curt nod for himself, T'Sha turned on her heel and headed towards the turbolift, assistant in tow. As the lift doors finally closed, Stevaan turned back to the Admiral, and his smile broke into a broad grin.

"So what brings you out this way, Darin? Proxima is more than a fair distance from the Aldebaran sector. Or am I just unfortunate enough to warrant a personal visit from command staff even before leaving the docks?"

Admiral Baasch cracked a smile to match the one Stevaan had sprouted.

"Well if the newest Captain under my command, with his choice of ship to helm, had chosen a ship that was on active duty, much less in one piece, we'd be having this conversation over subspace channels. Not that I mind the excuse for a change in scenery."

Stevaan's smile turned a little wry, but retained its friendly twist. Squaring up his shoulders, he took a step towards Darin.

"That's right, just blame it your subordinates. I'll have you know, if any of these new and supposedly advanced ships were even half as robust as the Galaxy-class spaceframe, I might have considered any of them. As it is, after this refit is completed, I'd wager that the Bastion will still be going strong for decades after the next ship to come out of the shipyards has gone obsolete."

Darin actually chuckled out loud at that statement. He closed the gap between Stevaan and himself, and clapped a hand on the Captain's shoulder.

"That's only because any ship with you onboard is too afraid to break down or stop working, lest you launch into one of your famous cursing tirades. Or worse, try and fix the problem."

Stevaan's smile slid away into a looked of feigned insult, and he shrugged the Admiral's hand away before giving him a light hearted punch to the arm, though still forceful enough to rock Darin slightly. This only caused the Admiral to laugh harder, even as he rubbed at the place where Stevaan had hit him. Stevaan jabbed a finger into Darin's chest to punctuate his statements.

"Keep insulting my engineering skills, Admiral, and I'll be glad to give you a tirade of curses right here."

Darin stifled his laughter as best he could, as he held his hands up in a mock defensive posture.

"Alright. Alright, Captain. We definitely don't want that. I'm sure the refit crew doesn't want to have to resurface the bulkheads in here, and I don't feel like explaining why they'd need to."

Stevaan finally laughed aloud. He had to concede to Darin the point where the volatility of his foul mouth was concerned. Darin laughed louder again, and soon the two men were laughing and slapping shoulders with each other. After a few moments, Darin's laughter finally began to wind down, and Stevaan wasn't far behind him. Soon the laughing had calmed to mild chuckling, and before long, that too had faded into a mirthful silence. Finally, Stevaan broke the silence as he spoke up.

"So, in all seriousness, what has brought you out here? Some higher up suddenly realize who it is that you promoted?"

Darin shook his head, though a smirk did begin to reappear on his face.

"No. Nothing like that, though the subject is something of a sensitive one. Anywhere around here that we can have a more secluded and secure conversation?"

Stevaan stepped into his quarters aboard the Bastion ahead of Darin, setting his cases on a table just inside the door. Gesturing for Darin to enter, he stepped over to his desk and stood next to the chair there. Darin took a few strides inside then stopped to take in the room. The room was of standard size and configuration for the quarters of a starship's commanding officer, with a moderate sized living space, a separated sleeping area, and enough room for a desk and large wall terminal for attending to the duties that a Captain could never escape. Much like the rest of the ship, there were a number of panels dismounted from bulkheads, which in conjunction with the bare furnishings and lack of many personal belongings, compounded to give the whole space a sterile feeling. Darin was immediately drawn to the tall windows set into the far wall, which he quickly moved to. With the ship's current orientation, they provided a view of the planet Proxima below, slowly spinning on its axis, looking like a multicolored gem wrapped in black velvet.

"That sort of view never gets old does it?"

Stevaan nodded in agreement, though didn't say anything. Sitting down, he waited for his friend to broach the subject that had brought him here. Darin turned to face Stevaan, but lifted a hand pointed out the large bay windows.

"It was this sort of thing that dragged you back, you know. Not me, and not any number of Admirals, could have pulled you out of retirement. You wanted to come back."

Stevaan leaned back, now slightly suspicious of where the conversation was about to go. The tone in Darin's voice was once of reluctance, but the man had never been reluctant about anything in his life. He could only assume that something was weighing on his friend. Something that he felt he couldn't come out and say even to his best friend. Stevaan tried to help him along.

"Well, the jury is still out as to the exact reasons. Once I manage to figure them out, you'll be the first I call." Stevaan leaned forward and made a noncommittal wave with a hand to one side. "So what is this all about? What's bothering you?"

Darin looked into Stevaan's eyes, but couldn't seem to hold the gaze, instead shifting to look back out the windows. When he it seemed that he had worked up what to say, Darin turned back around and drew himself up.

"To be perfectly honest, it's the Klingons."

Stevaan felt his chin hit his chest before he realized that he had let his head droop. He quickly lifted his head up slightly, but only to bury his eyes in his hand to rub at the sudden twinge he felt growing there. Suddenly, he had the terrible feeling that he knew exactly what was bothering Darin, and it was only indirectly the Klingons.

"Darin. You promised me no fighting."

Though Stevaan could not see it, Darin flushed slightly, either from embarrassment or guilt or perhaps both. Stevaan lifted his head and folded his arms across his chest.

"I came back because you were going to keep me away from any conflicts. Right?"

"I highly doubt that was the only reason that you came back, but yes, I did. Unfortunately the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council didn't run it by me before he ordered the seizing of the Korvat system." Darin's voice seemed to be threaded by equal parts apologetic and accusatory.

"And now, the latest intelligence reports suggest that the Empire may be ready to make good on their demands for all of the Archanis sector. Rumors are flying that High Council has already moved a number of fleets into position. Starfleet already has the 8th and 11th fleets on blockade duty in the Hromi star cluster, in response to the Korvat debacle, to prevent any more ships from sneaking across. But if they come in force, and what other way would you expect a Klingon to come at you, we're going to be stretched mighty thin."

Stevaan shook his head, and only barely kept the deep displeasure he as feeling from spreading all over his face. Though judging how Darin would occasionally look elsewhere, Stevaan suspected some of it had started to show. Considering the situation, Stevaan didn't mind it at all.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do about it? A single starship captain isn't going to make a difference in that kind of situation."

Darin started pacing along the length of the room.

"I have been handed the responsibility of creating a special task force. One capable of responding to sudden emergencies, or handling more small scale tasks that require quicker planning and response than a large fleet could muster. If and when the Klingons decide to make a move in the Archanis sector, it will likely be wide spread. Anything less, and there would be a chance for us to counter, and end the conflict before it could begin.

"So, assuming the worst comes to pass, that's where you come in. You have years of combat and wartime experience. You have personally fought against and alongside Klingons before. You can be insufferably cautious at times, and yet you have proven that you can recognize when risks have to be taken. And whether you like it or not, you're a damn good leader as well.

"Throw into that mix the fact that I am aware of nothing electrical, mechanical, or structural that you can't fix. Or at least make work a little longer. All of this wraps up to make you the number one candidate for this task force."

Stevaan could feel his glare losing the heat he had built up in his moment of frustration. Darin's whole argument was as solid as could be. His assessment of his engineering skills may have been slightly inflated, though Stevaan suspected that Darin had used that off handed remark as a subtle attempt to stoke his ego. Stevaan couldn't deny that it had worked to a degree. He also recognized that the speech felt almost rehearsed, or at the very least, Darin had already been giving the matter considerable thought. Darin must've known that he would come up with any manner of counter argument to avoid the possibility of combat. Stevaan wasn't about to disappoint him then.

"There are bound to be other qualified and skilled captains, besides me. It's not like Starfleet came to a stop for the decade I was gone."

Darin grinned, gave a small shrug in response.

"There are others with experience, yes. There are others with talent, yes. But none have just the right mix I need, none but you."

Stevaan began going through his memory, trying to find someone that he thought could out do him, if for no other reason than to show Darin that he wasn't such a rarity.

"What about Richards? From back on the Centaur. I heard he made Captain recently. And he's seen and done just about everything the two of us have. If not more by this point."

Darin nodded. "He took command of the USS Gryphon about a month ago so. Unfortunately, the Gryphon is part of the 8th fleet, and is on assignment in the Xaratine sector."

Stevaan dug deeper.

"Shondala. She's Captain of the Ajax as I recall. And I know for a fact that she has more combat experience that the two of us combined."

"Well of course she does," Darin said with a chuckle. "She's almost 122 years old. Which, as it happens, is why she is retiring at the end of the month."
Stevaan scratched his beard along his jawline.

"What about Zomtru? He seemed like a kid with potential."

"Died in a glider accident on Bolarus IX a few years back, if I recall correctly."

Stevaan was becoming desperate, but he was careful not let Darin see it. Unfortunately, only one other name occurred to him that had any potential.

"Drexl?"

Darin looked perplexed for a moment, then a look of recognition filled his face.

"As in, Drexl the Angry Antican?" Darin managed to get out between chuckles.

Stevaan smiled back, sharing in the same humorous memories the two of them had of the mutual acquaintance. "That's him. What ever happened to him?"

Darin spread his hands wide in a gesture of uncertainty, and actually started laughing.

"Not sure. I lost track of him after his court martial."

Stevaan felt a surge of surprise well up at the mention of a court martial, though it was quickly dampened by the memories of how aggressive and touchy and individual Drexl had been.

"Court martial? For what?"

"Officially, it was for assaulting a superior officer." Darin was beginning to have difficulty getting the words out around his laughter, which continued to build in intensity. "But technically, it was biting a superior officer."

Both men laughed heartily and without restraint. Not only in the humor they felt, but at the nostalgia that floated up with it. Laughter that was able to momentarily press aside their present concerns, and let them reminisce freely. But the present quickly began to reassert itself in their minds. Stevaan's laughter began dropping away first and quickly died away as a sudden realization struck him. Darin too began to get his chuckling under control, as he noticed a look of concern on his friend's face. In his head, Stevaan ran down the list of people and places that he had met and known, and was faced with the undeniable fact that most of them were gone. Darin was the only associate from his past that he had maintained any sort of contact with, but even if he had kept up to date on more of his past associations, the truth of the matter was that he was out living too many of them. And with that, his train of thought ran its course.

"When did we get so old?"

Darin straightened slightly, but didn't seem taken aback by the question. He came to stand by Stevaan's desk, folding his arms across his front.

"I don't know Stevaan. To be honest, I think we both became old men by virtue of surviving the Dominion War."

Stevaan glanced up at his friend.

"And do you want to go and do that again?"

Darin grimaced slightly and strolled back to the windows across the room. The inner struggle clear on his face, as he watched the blue and green planet slowly rotating beneath them.

"Look, Stevaan, I know you've had your fill of war. So have I. But I'd be lying if I said it was something that would never happen again. But you have seen it. You have survived it. And the young officers of Starfleet who have never experienced such a thing are going to need that sort of man around very soon. But I know how heavy it weighs on you, which is why I won't order you to take this posting. But I'm asking as a great personal favor. I need you Stevaan. All of Starfleet needs you, whether they know it or not."

Stevaan sighed heavily as he ran his hands through his hair. His once dark blond, but now graying hair. Standing, he slowly walked over to stand by Darin, and took in the view as well. He could practically feel the weight of his rank and commission pressing down on him, compounded by his age, his past, and by what he knew lay in the immediate future for the Federation. A United Federation of Planets, whose ideals and very existence he had pledged an oath to protect and uphold. An oath that had brought him back into Starfleet after an already commendable career. He had been well aware of the current political and military climate of the quadrant when he agreed to return. Perhaps that awareness had been the true deciding factor in his decision to come back.

"Do you remember that rally call that went out when we were retaking Betazed?"

Darin's mouth twitched slightly and his eyes closed, remembering the battle from long ago, and the words that had brought out every ounce of talent and skill from those attempting to free the planet.

"We stand, we fight, we hold. We do this for those that cannot. Captain Reynolds did have a way with words."

"Yes. Yes, he did."

Stevaan nodded, his mind made up.

"I'm all yours. Tell me when and where, and I'll make it happen. For those that cannot."

Sudden relief flooded across Darin's face, and he made no effort to hold it back or hide its presence. He reached out and grabbed Stevaan's shoulder in a reassuring grip.

"Likewise. You want it, you'll get it. In fact my next stop is Starfleet Headquarters. I'll start the administrative ball rolling, while you start putting together a dream sheet for the task force. Sound good?"

Stevaan nodded with a grim but satisfied look in his eye, and Darin returned the assent before quickly excusing himself. He knew his friend would pull every string there was, call in every favor he had, if it meant giving this task force the means to succeed. But Stevaan's mind was already looking forward to what was undoubtedly just over the horizon. War and all the horrors and struggles that came with it, and Stevaan expected nothing but the worst of it to be put before him. Leaning against the window, he looked out at the planet below, but his gaze slid over to where the gantry of the dry dock facility was visible with numerous shuttles and work crews currently at work on the Bastion's hull. How many of them would be put at risk by a war? How many of them would come back from one? Stevaan ran his hand down the wall a ways and drew himself up straight. Though uncertainty loomed heavily over the imminent future, there was one thing Stevaan took as fact. If he was going to be dragged into a war, then he was going to make sure that as many people came out of it alive as possible.

Even if it killed him.