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Chapter 1: Consequences

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Part 5

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Secure Conference Room

Presidential Palace

Paris, France

Earth

"Admiral Roddenbery, Admiral Livingston." President Min Zife waved the two officers to sit. "I take it this isn't good news." The Bolian surmised as he saw their expressions.

"No, Mr. President." Starfleet's Chief of Staff Roddenbery responded. The older human looked white as a ghost and perhaps in borderline shock.

"That bad?" Years of navigating political landmines and dealing with the Federation's power brokers made sure that Zife's face remained calm. It took him just a few moments to run through the major operations he was briefed on and find the probable culprit. "Operation Return." The President stated grimly. This was going to be bad, he thought.

Unfortunately, his gut instinct was right on the money.

"Our fleet was defeated and forced to withdraw with heavy casualties. If Commander John Sinclair hadn't rallied our forces and proceeded to lead a limited counter attack, we would have lost the whole fleet." Roddenbery explained.

"Damn. So much for ending this war anytime soon." Min looked at the officers as his mind raced. Now he would have to find a way to force the assembly to approve getting to a war footing. There were already enemy raiding units operating on the edges of the Terran and Vulcan sectors. They would be getting bolder now that many of the Starfleet vessels pulled out of those areas won't be coming back.

"It's much worse than that, sir." Admiral Livingston added.

"I'm going to like this even less." The President muttered. "Go on."

"The minefield blocking the wormhole is gone. A day ago, Dominion reinforcements numbering over three thousand ships poured through. Our first idea how wrong everything went was when Klingon ships which made it out of enemy jamming field informed Admiral Ross of the outcome of the battle. Two hours ago he got independent confirmation from the leading elements of our surviving ships.

"I see." Zife's voice was quiet, almost resigned. "What's the enemy targeting?"

"About a thousand ships veered off towards the Klingon border. The rest are pursuing the survivors from Operation Return. They'll be hitting Starbase 375 in about sixteen hours."

"Then they'll be coming here." The President stated. "Remind me, what forces does Admiral Ross have at his disposal?"

"He can has about fifty ships there and perhaps a hundred more in time besides the remnants of Sixth Fleet which will arrive five or six hours before the enemy. The rest of the forces slated for Operation Return won't reach the Starbase in time." Livingston became the bearer of the next bit of bad news.

"What are his orders?"

"To hold at all costs. That enemy fleet can't be allowed a free reign in our core sectors." The Chief of Staff declared with conviction.

"That's it?" Zife shook his head. He knew that Roddenbery was a political appointment, a remnant of the previous administration that become a problem, but this was pure idiocy. For a moment he wondered how many like him were spread among Starfleet's higher echelons. Something told him that there might be too many for comfort.

"The hell he is." The President stood straighter. "Once the remnants of Sixth fleet arrive, he is to pull back."

"But sir, this is our best opportunity to..."

"We had much better odds during Operation Return and we still lost." Zife glared at the admiral. "Now I'm made to understand that the ships moving on Starbase 375 are the enemy's reinforcements, fresh, untouched warships. What do we have on hand that could stop them?" Zife glanced at Livingston.

"Nothing that's up to the job. We need time to rebuild and train new crews, time for the forces racing here from the outer borders to arrive, refuel, repair and refit. Most importantly we need to start building as many true warships as possible. Most of our current classes are simply outclassed by the enemy. Only the Sovereign, Defiant and Akiras have proven a match or better than their enemy counterparts. Our older ships need to outnumber the enemy by a significant margin to win."

"That might prove necessary." Roddenbery glumly allowed. It was obviously hard for him to admit it. Until recently, the Admiral was one of the major proponents of the idea that Starfleet had no job being a military organization and should be concentrating on its exploration role.

Unless Zife had misjudged the man badly, the beginning of the war had been a huge shock for the Admiral. The fact that the Dominion ships were simply better in a fight ton for ton than most of the classes the Federation fielded wasn't helping him either. Yet, despite that, the Chief of Staff has been busting his ass to do everything he could, so the boys and girls on the front-lines got what they needed.

Unfortunately, neither of them had much to work with.

"Computer, bring up galaxy map. Zoom in on the border between the Federation, Klingon Empire and Cardassian Union." The President said as he turned his chair to better focus on the large viewer installed behind his desk.

Moments later, he was looking at the star map. "Show Starfleet and allied deployments as well as known Dominion forces." The map lit up with blue, green and red dots.

It was easy to find the symbols representing the remnants of Sixth fleet as they were pursued by a large red blob near four times their size. The closest major Federation force was Fifth fleet which was about a week away, which was the reason in didn't participate in Operation Return.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, what major forces we have left are Third and Fourth fleets, protecting Earth, Andora and Vulcan."

"Most of Fourth fleet is spread throughout the Terran and Vulcan sectors dealing with Dominion incursions." Admiral Livingston corrected.

"Gentlemen, do we have the forces at hand to stop that Dominion Armada before it can bombard one of the Core worlds?" Zife pointed at the red blob on the map that was getting closer and closer to Starbase 375.

"In theory." The Chief of Staff answered. "While we will have an edge in numbers when they arrive, most of those will older classes or refits. Not up to par with Dominion warships on one one. Further, only Andora has planetary defenses on par with what we had during the previous century. Everyone else let them decay or dismantled them. Here on Earth we still have planetary shields but the remaining phaser batteries and proton torpedo launchers haven't really been upgraded since Kirk's time. Against modern ships? They won't fare well."

"That won't buy us more than an hour against a modern force. At best." Livingston added.

The President closed his eyes. "And if the Dominion sends another such fleet through the wormhole?" He asked.

"We won't have the forces to stop them." Roddenbery answered. "We have a good chance of stopping the enemy fleet coming our way right now, though even if everything goes right, they'll still cause a lot of damage."

"Worst case?"

"That armada heading our way knocks us out of the war." Both officers agreed on that one.

Zife stared at the map and the small groups of friendly forces in the active conflict zone. "Computer, zoom out. Show Starfleet forces deployed across the Federation." He ordered. The image shifted and lit up with blue icons. "Pull them all out. Whoever can reach the core sectors before the armada is to head our way at maximum warp. The rest are to head for the Klingon border and assist our allies in stopping the Dominion there." The President paused and turned around to stare at the two stunned admirals.

"Sir, you can't mean that!" Roddenbery exclaimed. "The consequences..."

"I'm aware of what I just ordered!" Zife's voice became colder than Andorian winter. "The Federation has been complacent ever since we signed up the Khitomer Accords! Even the Borg weren't a big enough of a wake up call for the Assembly and certain members of Starfleet!" He glared at the Chief of Staff. "Now we're all paying for our hubris!"

"Sir, your orders call for abandoning large tracks of the Federation." Admiral Livingston spoke quietly, disbelief evident in his voice.

"I am the elected leader of trillions." The president stated flatly. "I can no longer afford to make policy on the basis of best case scenarios or wishful thinking." Zife's spat the words as if they were pure venom. "More than sixty percent of the Federation's industry is concentrated in the Core sectors, along with eighty percent of our heavy shipbuilding capacity. If we lose them the war is over." The President fixed the two admirals with a piercing stare. "I will be dealing with the Assembly once we're done here. Pray that for once they would show a tiny modicum of common sense. Now what do you need to win this war, if the enemy has another such fleet or two in reserve?" Zife asked. "I'll do my best to get it to you, no matter the political consequences." The President didn't add that no matter what, his career was now over. The only thing that might keep him in his post would be no one else wanting to bear the responsibility for losing the war and potentially presiding over the end of the Federation.

The admirals looked at each other. Roddenbery shook his head in attempt to clear up his thoughts and began speaking. "We need a crash-build up program for new ships. Military refits of what reserves we still have to buy time, new classes of dedicated warships being build as fast as possible. That means expansion of all existing shipyards and the building of new ones and that's just the start." He nodded to Livingston.

"We need more bodies. Trained soldiers to help either hold or retake worlds the enemy has taken. New equipment for those, though both those items are secondary. We need trained starship crews. I need permission to recall all retired crewmen who are fit for duty. We need to expand recruitment or even start conscription and start training those people." He took a deep breath. "Scratch that. Everyone with starship experience if they're sane, no matter their condition. Starfleet medical should do whatever they have to to bring them back into fighting shape for the duration."

"That would be a very hard sell." The President winced. The Assembly would soon be vying for his blood.

"It's what we damn well need, sir."

Zife looked them in the eyes for a few moments. "You don't believe it will be enough."

"Oh, it will be. If we can survive for a couple of years." Admiral Livingston answered.

"And that Mr. President is the clinch. If the enemy has more reinforcements to send..." Roddenbery trailed off. "If we can keep our industrial centers intact for the next few years, fully mobilize, we can promise we won't lose military. It's another question if we could afford to do anything more than push the Dominion to the wormhole. It's a hell of a choke-point. However, if we can retake and keep it bottled up, we can either reach terms or keep hostilities concentrated at Bajor, at least once we've dealt with the Cardassians."

"I'll call the Diplomatic corps and lit a fire under them. We need the Romulans. They're the only remaining major power in the Quadrant that is uncommitted." The President added.

"If they actually agree to help us and come through with it, the price will be steep." Livingston warned.

"It's not like we have much of a choice." The President turned around to stare at the map. "Computer, zoom in on Tezwa. Show me projected course for Dominion forces heading towards the Klingon Empire. What are the odds that our allies can assist us if that fleet can be dealt with soon?" Zife asked.

"Low. Oh, they might be able to interdict Cardassian and Dominion forces in the sectors near the Empire, perhaps even staging raids in force to keep some of the enemy attention on themselves. However, they're simply too far away to assist with the fleet coming our way." Livingston summarized the situation.

"It will have to be good enough. Admiral Roddenbery, who do we have in that area that the Klingons respect or even trust?"

"You are aware that this would probably piss them off?"

"The thought has crossed my mind."

Roddenbery leaned forward and examined the map. "That's the Enterprise." He pointed at a certain cluster of symbols between Starbase 375 and the Klingon border.

"They'll have to do. Cut the necessary orders. I just hope for all our sakes that Picard is his usual competent self. I'll need detailed propositions for fleet, shipbuilding and recruitment expansion and for now hopefully limited conscription in a few hours, when I'll go in front of the Assembly."

"We'll get them ready in time, Mr. President."