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Chapter 2: Aftermath
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Part 4
Chief of Staff Roddenbery's Office
Starfleet Command
Earth
Admiral Roddenbery ignored his subordinates for a moment, lost in his thoughts. His eyes briefly gazed over the tasteful decorations of his office. They were made up mostly of various trinkets that had gotten his interest during his time as a First Officer and later, Captain of various starships. Amongst the alien curiosities, there was a carefully chosen space where his commendations were proudly framed.
All those things he had been proud of. They used to matter.
Not any more. His distinguished career, crowned by his current tour of duty as Starfleet's Chief of Staff was all but over, sacrificed in a desperate attempt to appease the public. The citizens of the Federation wanted, needed someone to blame for the failure of Operation Return… and they had to get their pound of flesh in order to preserve what little stability was still left.
In the end, it was inevitable, he thought. After all, ultimately it was his decision to green-light the gamble, fully knowing how much of a long shot it was. Yet, it wasn't like he had much of a choice! The chance for Sisco to pull off another miracle was not insignificant and a success would have shortened the war by years. At least that's how he explained it to the Senate committee with which he had to meet yesterday. Considering that it was an open to the public circus, he spoke the truth, too.
Just not all of it.
Thanks to his position and long years of service within Starfleet, Roddenbery knew better than most how the Federation and it's "unarmed" forces were faring in this war. He knew that they weren't ready for this conflict even after the wake up calls that were the two Borg incursions. Starfleet needed years to renew the fleet, train new crews and most importantly, to start transitioning from the mindset of being explorers and scientists first, and everything else second. Hell, before the Borg, there were voices amongst the Flag Officers within Starfleet Command arguing that the tactical track was all but obsolete!
Now they knew better… well at least some of them. The problem was the Core Worlds, where a significant percent of the whole Federation population was located, had been kept safe and secure by Starfleet for decades, in some cases, a few centuries now. That ironically was at the heart of the problem. All those people naturally had a huge say in how the Federation as a whole and Starfleet as particular operated, however they had no real reason to make sacrifices for their own security. More often than not it, said security was taken for granted, because with the exception of the Borg incursion, they and their worlds hadn't even thought about danger from the stars in the longest time. The various incidents or even border wars like the one with the Cardassians, were something distant, something happening months away at maximum warp.
Naturally, it wasn't their problem.
Until the present crisis hit and yet, now that the whole Federation was threatened, most people in the Core Worlds simply refused to believe that it was their problem. They didn't want to believe that the war would come to their doorstep. And even if it did, they were likely going to blame Starfleet for failing to protect them or simply expect it to save the day again. What did Cisco say? That it was easy to be a saint when you live in heaven? That was the crux of the matter. The majority of the population in the Core Worlds had been living in their own safe, pleasant world, one free of war, strife and any real difficulties compared to what the people closer to the borders and on the newer colonies had to experience. Simply put, they existed in a reality of their own and too many expected or even demanded that the universe would bend to their wishes because anything else was unthinkable.
Roddenbery sighed. Starfleet was locked into a war that it was slowly losing in the months before Operation Return. Though at least that was poised to change once the new construction laid amongst all operational yards within the Federation would be completed… provided that the enemy wasn't free to reinforce. The rest of Starfleet Command and the Chiefs of Staff were banking on being ready to retake DS9, before the Dominion found a way to dismantle the minefield. When it was apparent that wasn't going to happen, authorizing Operation Return was a no-brainier. The only thing he wanted to do after that was a political impossibility before the battle was resolved – recalling all Starfleet units to the Core sectors and practically abandoning huge tracts of the Federation he was sworn to protect.
That was the hardest order he had ever given. It would be one of his last too.
Nevertheless it was inevitable. With Starfleet simply lacking the hulls to properly patrol and defend its vast territory, it wasn't an uncommon to have a handful of ships responsible for whole sectors. Unsurprising really when one considers that the Federation was more than eight thousand light years across two galactic quadrants. To properly police and defend that space, Starfleet needed orders of magnitude more ships than it had before the war started... reserves and mothballed hulls included.
The Admiral shook himself out of his dark thoughts and returned his attention to his guests. The man nominally in charge of Starfleet looked at the Flag Officers sitting on the other side of his desk. Both Livingston and Nechayev looked properly grim, not that he could blame them given the mess they all found themselves in.
"You've gone over the reports?" Roddenbery asked quietly.
"Our friends in Intelligence were thorough." Nechayev stated.
"I'm aware of the ramifications as well." Livingston nodded.
"Needless to say, our acquaintances in the Assembly made our work much harder." The Chief of Staff mused.
"That's an understatement." Alyanna's chuckled darkly. "They would probably undo most of the benefits we got from yesterday's circus."
They all knew that the Assembly gathered again while they spoke and none of the officers looked forward to any decision the politicians might make today. While, thanks to the Andorian Representative, Starfleet now had its hands untied in regards of wartime economy and limited conscription, it now appeared that it might be all for naught.
"I'll be replaced by the end of the week." Roddenbery fixed his two old friends with a tired stare. "I've spoken with the President about it and he'll have my resignation, though I fear that neither the Senate, nor the Assembly would be satisfied with only my head going to the chopping block. The good news is that I convinced the President not to sack you two as well. Nevertheless, in a few days there will be a lot less Admirals in this building."
"So they are purging us." Livingston grunted, resenting the very thought of something like that. While he was well aware that some of the problems Starfleet was facing was of its own making, a lot of the blame not only could, but must be laid on the feet of the Senate and General Assembly. After all, it was the politicians who dictated policy and set the budged and thus ensured the fleet didn't have the needed numbers to do it's job.
"Its inevitable. The ordinary citizens still believe in Starfleet, something we will sorely need in the coming months. As the man in charge, I would have been blamed for this mess anyway." Roddenbery smiled grimly. He was aware that his career was over the moment he learned of Sisco's failure, not that he had the time to ponder on that until now.
"We'll have a hard enough task in rebuilding the Fleet and stopping what the Dominion is throwing at us right now even without losing most of High Command." Nechayev grumbled through clenched teeth. She didn't even attempt to hide her displeasure at the news. While there were a lot of chaff within Starfleet's higher echelons, mainly people who refused to face reality, she somehow doubted that they would be the ones sacked.
"You two along with Ross will have to deal with the fallout. Besides, there will be a few competent Admirals being recalled from retirement." Roddenbery allowed himself a tiny smile. A few legends would have to put in the uniform one last time. It was too bad that he wouldn't be around to work with them again. At least he would be able to see how they dealt with the politicians. Most of those weren't accustomed to dealing with officers of their type.
"Recalling all available personnel who ever served on a Starship will help with the manpower situation in the short term." Livingston nodded. He almost smiled at the thought of old, experienced spacers showing how things are really done to the new crop of officers and enlisted personnel.
"We'll have training up to snuff soon enough." Nechayev added. "Getting enough bodies to cycle through it will be harder, especially if things go south in the Assembly."
"Yes, when all is said and done, simple conscription won't do much for giving us decent crews any time soon." Livingston sighed.
They all knew that getting decent amounts of ground troops wouldn't be hard. A few months of training once the draft and training systems were working would be easy. Training moderately competent starship crews with the intention of throwing them in combat… that was something quite different. There was a reason why training even ordinary crew-members took a couple of years. Getting competent officers was much harder… and that was when they had highly motivated volunteer cadre to work with.
It never crossed his mind that building the multiple army groups that would eventually be needed would be anything but simple or easy.
"The manpower issue will be Commodore Pierce's problem once he arrives in system. He's being promoted to Rear Admiral and will have to straighten up that mess. You both know him, I believe?"
"Henry Pierce, right?" Livingston asked. He had a far away look for a moment and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. "He's up to the task."
"I'm glad you approve, David." Roddenbery smirked at his long time friend. "Any comments over the reports I sent you?" He changed the topic.
"Many, all unbefitting a Starfleet officer." Nechayev grimaced. "We learned a lot from War's last stand."
There was a moment of silence after she mentioned the Tellarite Admiral. None of them liked the fact that they had to sacrifice so many of their own people and ships in a desperate last stand, one that while inflicting an out of proportion damage to the enemy, didn't really slow them down.
"Starbase 375 was refitted with our best shields and weapon systems, yet it survived two point one minutes under concentrated enemy fire. Besides that torpedo trap, the base inflicted much lower than projected damage. The station transmitted its sensor logs of the battle until the end. We know for a fact that the enemy commander used forces from their original expeditionary force and locally built vessels to take it out. We still don't know if the reinforcing fleet has the same capabilities or if those ships have better weapons and defences installed. Further, while the weapons and shields of the station were formidable, our projections were optimistic." Nechayev looked like she was chewing on something bitter. "Those projections might have held true if we faced Klingon or Romulans. No matter how formidable they are however, we have better tech, better industry, our ships are built generally to a better standard. To speak bluntly, what allows them to be a threat is that their units are proper military designs and very few of our new construction that should be equal to theirs or outclass them is. In comparison, from all we've seen, the Dominion is a peer opponent, in technology, industry and sheer size. Our only saving grace is distance and the choke-point represented by the wormhole. Given enough time we can build enough ships that are at least a match to everything they have. If we can retake the wormhole and hold it at worst we won't lose the war."
"We missed an opportunity." Livingston nodded. "If we threw everything we had at them two to four months ago, the Dominion and Cardassians would have likely folded. By ceding initiative and taking a defensive posture, we let them use their top of the line vessels to great effect."
"We let them defeat in detail most of our best fleets." Nechayev muttered.
"Even if we knew that, it's unlikely that our civilian leadership would have authorized a general offensive at the time. Not after the disasters that were our first two attempts to counter attack." Roddenbery shrugged. Those two battles combined were a strategic setback almost rivalling the latest screw up. "You've seen the good news as well."
"We'll have about five thousand ships available in the Core Sectors by the time the enemy arrives. With the additional forces that they are throwing against us, that still gives us overall numerical advantage." Livingston nodded. "However, those numbers are guaranteed to change if we allow the enemy an unopposed advance." Livingston looked uneasily at his commander. They were well aware that no matter what the numbers said, the Dominion held the advantage thanks to their ships being pure warship designs, while the Federation would field a force that includes many obsolete designs even after war refits.
"It's a concern I share too. We lost too many of our most experienced officers and crews already. While we have to meet the Dominion in a series of defensive battles to both slow them down and contest systems we can't let them take without a fight, I'm afraid that we might lose more than we gain in such engagements. It's unlikely that we'll manage to lure them into many more traps before they arrive. At any rate, they don't even need to use parts of their main fleet to attack important systems. There are about a thousand Jem'Hadar and Cardassian ships pouring into our territory as Starfleet units are falling back to the core sectors. A further few hundred vessels will be available soon, once new enemy construction enters service and the survivors of the Dominion Fleet that halted Operation Return are patched up and sent back into the fray."
"That's a concern of mine too. I'm sure you've got some ideas on how to diminish the enemy numbers while suffering minimal casualties. You should write them up in a formal report. The President would like to see it before he decides if he should approve my recommendation that you succeed me as a Chief of Staff." Roddenbery smirked at a gobsmacked Alyanna.
"You're determined to make me suffer behind a desk, aren't you?" She grumbled a few seconds later.
"That's one of the reasons I was so glad when you both made Flag Rank. Misery loves company." Roddenbery chuckled. "Let's just hope that there will still be a Federation for you to defend." All traces of humour disappeared form the Chief of Staff.
"You know something." Livingston declared.
"Computer, show the feed from the Assembly meeting in progress." Roddenbery ordered. "I know that a number of systems demand Starfleet protection or they will deem the Federation as a whole derelict in her duties to her member systems and secede. We can't send them any ships that will make a shred of difference if the Dominion decides to hit them."
"Ah. I was wondering when it would start." Nechayev slumped back in her chair.
Livingston looked between his two colleagues. "I know I'm rather dull as far as politics go, but doing so sounds like madness!" He grunted.
"Oh, it is." Roddenbery nodded. "It can easily start a domino effect that sees the Federation unravel before the enemy arrives at Sector 001. However, I can't really blame them. Not under these circumstances. I did give the order to abandon them to the Dominion's mercy." Roddenbery suddenly looked much older than his seventy years. He knew that the decision was the right one, the only one he could make in order to protect the Federation.
That didn't make him feel any better.
"There will be many voices within the Assembly screaming for us to defend everything." Nechayev added. "When it becomes crystal clear that we can afford to contest only strategically important locations..." She trailed off.
"How the hell did we get into this mess?"
"It's actually our fault at least in part." Roddenbery smiled sadly. "We as well as the Federation as a whole were too successful. Too many new members were allowed in while Starfleet wasn't properly expanded to protect our new borders and I don't need to explain to you why most of the fleet is made up by obsolete vessels?"
"Don't remind me. Before going to the Academy I did vote for representatives who were promising replicators for every home and holosuite hours being available weekly to everybody." Livingston muttered.
"You and everyone else." Nechayev smiled sadly. She was contemplating joining Starfleet after she graduated at the time and remembered the furore. It was supposed to be the dawn of a golden age, a utopia in the making… And for the first time in human history that was true.
"There wasn't a present and clear danger to justify a powerful and expanded Starfleet at the time." Roddenbery muttered. "So it was a no briner how the ordinary citizen would vote on the issue. We got our utopia and now we're all paying the price for it. But enough reminiscenting about the past. We have a lot of work to do. What's the schedule on expanding our major shipyards? How long before we can start laying new hulls?"
