- CHAPTER 22 -
- ILV Scarlet Fang, Docked at Alliance Station 338, Orouke Nebula, Near the Former Border of Lyran Space -
Zathran looked over the reports again and closed his eyes trying to force calm upon himself. Despite his best efforts, a growl escaped from his throat. There had been some minor scuffles between Lyran and Mirak borders on the Imperial Nova class. And it was only because both our own and the Mirak vessels had to pull out that they remained minor scuffles. If that second Imp patrol had been even a few minutes late, there would have been more blood spilled on that ship. If that had happened, the current shaky alliance between the Lyran and Mirak peoples would end, and with it any hope of driving the Terran Empire from both Lyran and Mirak space.
Even though he knew this, a part of Zathran longed to do just what his errant officers tried to do. Part of him longed for IMMEDIATE revenge against all of the wrongs the Mirak had done to his people. Through sheer force of will, he kept that part in check. After the Terran Empire was thrown out of Lyran space there would be time to settle old scores dating back over a century. In the mean time, he had more pressing concerns to worry about. The local Orion Cartel representative had left in search of the cartel's leadership upon hearing who one of the captives was. Captain Dorothy Chambers, late of the Imperial Star Ship Ogre, was a true prize indeed. She could be useful to the Alliance both as another source of information and as a bargaining chip should the need arise. In the mean time, her custody had fallen to him, and he intended to show her every courtesy her station demanded. Despite the fact that she was an enemy, that was no reason to be uncivil, it would be a slight on his own honor, and that of his pride's if he were to do anything less. Zathran stood from behind his desk and stalked out of his office with the fluid, cat like grace only another Lyran could duplicate. Dorothy Chambers capture alone nearly outweighed the losses in damaged and destroyed starships the attack incurred. Zathran smiled a feline smile. Fortunately it was Mirak ships and crews that had paid for the victory, not any Lyrans. Part of Zathran took some solace in that fact.
- MSS Blood Oath, Docked at Alliance Station 312 in the Asteroid Field of System Zepata Urgo -
The damage reports that the Mirak squadron had sustained, while lighter than the damage that the squadron had inflicted on the enemy, were still not good. While the Mirak fleet was growing quickly from its hidden shipyards scattered throughout useless systems in out of the way places, it was still short of experienced officers. In the coming battle, that fact may be the deciding factor. Of course there were those miracle weapons that had recently been offered to the Alliance he kept hearing about. Capable of disabling a starship, even one with active defenses, with a single blast if the rumors could be believed. While these rumors might even be true, it was the other persistent rumor that the Imperial Starfleet was even more short on trained personnel and vessels than their current dispositions would indicate. While they had taken a black eye and a few hard body blows during the Borg war, they were supposedly sending out cadets to fill in for fully trained crew. And there was also the other rumor that the Imperials were using captured Borg technology to bolster their numbers. A shudder ran through Hobbes' cream fur. Any species that thought creating Borg drones to solve personnel problems was a good idea deserved what was coming to it. And once the Terran Empire was out of the way, there were plenty of debts to collect on with the blasted Lyrans. Hobbes couldn't decide which he looked foreword to more, the removal of the Terran Empire or the continuation of hostilities with the Lyrans.
- Alliance Space Station Retribution -
".so we have to move up the original time table and strike as soon as possible." O'Tole said to the assembled high ranking officers. The Cardassian, Klingon, Romulan, Breen, Mirak, Lyran and Gorn officers stared back at him in stony silence. General Worf finally broke it.
"And this source of yours, you are sure he can be trusted to give you accurate information? With a few more months of preparation, we could be in a much stronger position."
"I know," O'Tole's face took on a slow, lazy smile, as if remembering an inside joke. "but my sources word has always been good before, and he wouldn't dream of turning on the Cartel. We have far to much dirt on him for that to be a paying proposition. If he says we need to advance the time table, then we advance it. Period."
"Fine then." Worf said gruffly. As much as he hated it, he had to follow the game plan laid out by O'Tole if he wanted to stay in command, so he forced down his anger and changed the subject. "Do you have the proper codes and passwords for the first stage?"
"Yes." O'Tole reached into his expensive suit and pulled out a data chip. "Everything they will need is on that chip. The vessel will be at the designated coordinates in 20 hours. Your crews can board her there, then make their way to Sol. Five hours after that, your fleets will strike. Can you all be ready by then?" A chorus of nods, or what their respective species used for them, answered him. While they didn't look all that happy about the sudden change in plans and the need to mobilize sooner than anticipated, they all knew that what must be done would be done on the revised schedule. "Very good, then I propose a toast and then we adjourn this meeting and proceed to the rally points." He reached for his glass, filled with Orion Firewine. The deep red mixture formed fire like tendrils of orange where his hand transferred warmth to the cool liquid inside, giving the drink its name.
O'Tole lifted the glass. "To victory!" A hearty cheer of agreement rang back in his ears.
- Alliance Space Station Retribution, Dock 3-B -
Alliance Captain Luza strode down the utilitarian hallway to where her ship should be docked. She glanced out the halls widow placed near the airlock, merely a cursory glance that every captain did when they got to see the outside of their pride and joy for a change. Her glance returned to the airlock, then whipped around and stared out the window again, her feet nearly tripping over one another. The vessel docked at the slip most assuredly was NOT her beloved Bo'Par. The fleet little B'rel class ship that had been her first command was now gone. In its place was a shining new vessel. The pristine Vampire class was one of the newest ships designed by Klingon engineers. This one looked like it was fresh from the shipyard. The Vampire got its name from a mythical Terran creature that sucked the lifeblood from its victims. An Engineer with a twisted sense of humor had stuck the moniker on the ship when it was still a prototype and it had stuck. There was a certain irony in using it, seeing as how this class would be draining the lifeblood of the Terran Empire, its starships. Something was wrong here Luza thought as she approached the wall com and stabbed it with an angry finger. Whomever the globfly was that had moved her ship without informing her was in for it.
"Luza to command, what have you pahtks done with my ship!" She growled into the com screen in her most menacing voice.
"Done Captain? Nothing at all. It's at Dock 3-B, right where it should be. What seems to be the problem?"
"Incompetent fools!" Luza muttered under her breath as one of her hands stroked her cranial ridges in a vain effort to relived the building stress. Then she spoke louder, carefully enunciating her words as if speaking to a mere child. "The vessel at Dock 3-B is not my ship. My ship is a B'rel, and the ship docked at the airlock most assuredly is not a B'rel! Now find my ship or so help me you will be begging me to kill you before I am through with you!"
"But Captain, that ship is yours. General Worf has said as much, I just assumed that you were already informed." A shocked look came over Luza as she heard the faceless voice of a central command officer across the tiny com's speaker.
"I. see command. Thank you for clarifying things, Luza out."
Captain Luza stare at the majestic ship hanging in front of the window. It was close to the size of a K'Vort class, but it looked like an engineer had been asleep when the ship was being put together. Its aft section looked vaguely like twin K'Vort class aft sections mated together, and its neck and command deck had more in common with a Vor'cha class than your standard K'Vort. The Vampire class mounted 5 rapid fire disruptor batteries fore, a quantum torpedo launcher for and aft and a Mauler device foreword. The ship was nearly as maneuverable as a B'rel with significantly greater punch. While its warp core lacked the power to charge the Mauler's massive capacitor array quickly, it was able to handily recharge the disruptor's while maintaining a speedy flight profile. They were used to strike hard fast with their maulers, then close rapidly and finish off anything left with their disruptor banks. Slightly awe struck, Luza began to move towards the airlock and her X winged prize.
The honor guard just inside the vessel's airlock braced to attention as she stepped into the dark brown/tan interior of the ship. Luza moved through her ship as if in a daze. This was too much to take in all at once. General Worf must have considerable confidence in her abilities to hand her a ship like this as only her second command. She walked into the bridge and saw her first officer stand up from the central chair and brace at attention along with the rest of the bridge crew.
"Commander Krell, would you care to explain the meaning of this to me?"
"Captain?"
"Don't play coy with me, why was I granted this ship, and why was my entire bridge crew transferred here to it?"
"All I know is that General Worf personally ordered that one of the new light fast attack cruisers be dispatched here for your new command. He swore me to secrecy, or else I would have told you. He also ordered that the Bo'Par's entire crew be transferred to this vessel, citing the fact that he didn't want to unsettle such a competent crew and commander on the eve of the rebirth of the Klingon Empire."
"All right, then what is the name of this new vessel I am to command?"
"He is the Imperial Klingon Vessel Bortas sir! And a fine ship he is to!" Luza's first officer said with an excited gleam in his eye.
"We shall see.Are we ready to depart?" After Krell nodded affirmative, Luza sank into her new command chair, then began issuing orders. "Bring main power on line, slip all moorings, release docking clamps, bow thrusters ΒΌ." A chorus of ayes answered her and the bridge officers busied themselves disengaging from the massive bulk of Retribution Station. Clangs and cracks of disengaging docking mechanisms were heard throughout the ship.
Outside, running lights came on, highlighting the green exterior of the ship with smears of light. Puffs of thrusters jetted from the bow portals, gently pushing the ship away from the station. Once sufficient distance had been made between the station and the ship, her impulse drives began to glow as power flooded into them, In the blink of an eye, the ship had flipped 180 degrees and began streaming away from the station. She quickly dropped into her assigned formation, Wing leader of four other Vampires. The new wing maneuvered into the growing stream of Alliance vessels as they joined up for the convoy to their assigned launch point. Hundreds.thousands of vessels streamed past before the Bortas and her sister's place in the formation came up. Klingon Chava'kals, Koloths, D-7 refits, B'rels, K'Vorts, Vampires, Vor'chas and Negh'Vars past the Bortas. Cardassian Hidekis, Legates, Rasilaks, Sartans, Galors and Keldons cruised by. Romulan Talons, Shrikes, Griffins, Shadows, Venators and massive Warbirds jockeyed for positions in the convoy. Breen cruisers and battleships weaved their way through the fleet. There were even the odd Lyran and Mirak ships present, sent here as part of their contribution to the Alliance on this front. Klingon, Cardassian, Romulan and Breen ships were present in the fleets moving to the Lyran/Mirak front as well. After a few more moments, the entire ungainly, massive formation cloaked and entered the subspace corridor to its rally point. From there, it would only be a few short hours till they began the offensive.
- ILV Scarlet Fang, Docked at Alliance Station 338, Orouke Nebula, Near the Former Border of Lyran Space -
Zathran looked over the reports again and closed his eyes trying to force calm upon himself. Despite his best efforts, a growl escaped from his throat. There had been some minor scuffles between Lyran and Mirak borders on the Imperial Nova class. And it was only because both our own and the Mirak vessels had to pull out that they remained minor scuffles. If that second Imp patrol had been even a few minutes late, there would have been more blood spilled on that ship. If that had happened, the current shaky alliance between the Lyran and Mirak peoples would end, and with it any hope of driving the Terran Empire from both Lyran and Mirak space.
Even though he knew this, a part of Zathran longed to do just what his errant officers tried to do. Part of him longed for IMMEDIATE revenge against all of the wrongs the Mirak had done to his people. Through sheer force of will, he kept that part in check. After the Terran Empire was thrown out of Lyran space there would be time to settle old scores dating back over a century. In the mean time, he had more pressing concerns to worry about. The local Orion Cartel representative had left in search of the cartel's leadership upon hearing who one of the captives was. Captain Dorothy Chambers, late of the Imperial Star Ship Ogre, was a true prize indeed. She could be useful to the Alliance both as another source of information and as a bargaining chip should the need arise. In the mean time, her custody had fallen to him, and he intended to show her every courtesy her station demanded. Despite the fact that she was an enemy, that was no reason to be uncivil, it would be a slight on his own honor, and that of his pride's if he were to do anything less. Zathran stood from behind his desk and stalked out of his office with the fluid, cat like grace only another Lyran could duplicate. Dorothy Chambers capture alone nearly outweighed the losses in damaged and destroyed starships the attack incurred. Zathran smiled a feline smile. Fortunately it was Mirak ships and crews that had paid for the victory, not any Lyrans. Part of Zathran took some solace in that fact.
- MSS Blood Oath, Docked at Alliance Station 312 in the Asteroid Field of System Zepata Urgo -
The damage reports that the Mirak squadron had sustained, while lighter than the damage that the squadron had inflicted on the enemy, were still not good. While the Mirak fleet was growing quickly from its hidden shipyards scattered throughout useless systems in out of the way places, it was still short of experienced officers. In the coming battle, that fact may be the deciding factor. Of course there were those miracle weapons that had recently been offered to the Alliance he kept hearing about. Capable of disabling a starship, even one with active defenses, with a single blast if the rumors could be believed. While these rumors might even be true, it was the other persistent rumor that the Imperial Starfleet was even more short on trained personnel and vessels than their current dispositions would indicate. While they had taken a black eye and a few hard body blows during the Borg war, they were supposedly sending out cadets to fill in for fully trained crew. And there was also the other rumor that the Imperials were using captured Borg technology to bolster their numbers. A shudder ran through Hobbes' cream fur. Any species that thought creating Borg drones to solve personnel problems was a good idea deserved what was coming to it. And once the Terran Empire was out of the way, there were plenty of debts to collect on with the blasted Lyrans. Hobbes couldn't decide which he looked foreword to more, the removal of the Terran Empire or the continuation of hostilities with the Lyrans.
- Alliance Space Station Retribution -
".so we have to move up the original time table and strike as soon as possible." O'Tole said to the assembled high ranking officers. The Cardassian, Klingon, Romulan, Breen, Mirak, Lyran and Gorn officers stared back at him in stony silence. General Worf finally broke it.
"And this source of yours, you are sure he can be trusted to give you accurate information? With a few more months of preparation, we could be in a much stronger position."
"I know," O'Tole's face took on a slow, lazy smile, as if remembering an inside joke. "but my sources word has always been good before, and he wouldn't dream of turning on the Cartel. We have far to much dirt on him for that to be a paying proposition. If he says we need to advance the time table, then we advance it. Period."
"Fine then." Worf said gruffly. As much as he hated it, he had to follow the game plan laid out by O'Tole if he wanted to stay in command, so he forced down his anger and changed the subject. "Do you have the proper codes and passwords for the first stage?"
"Yes." O'Tole reached into his expensive suit and pulled out a data chip. "Everything they will need is on that chip. The vessel will be at the designated coordinates in 20 hours. Your crews can board her there, then make their way to Sol. Five hours after that, your fleets will strike. Can you all be ready by then?" A chorus of nods, or what their respective species used for them, answered him. While they didn't look all that happy about the sudden change in plans and the need to mobilize sooner than anticipated, they all knew that what must be done would be done on the revised schedule. "Very good, then I propose a toast and then we adjourn this meeting and proceed to the rally points." He reached for his glass, filled with Orion Firewine. The deep red mixture formed fire like tendrils of orange where his hand transferred warmth to the cool liquid inside, giving the drink its name.
O'Tole lifted the glass. "To victory!" A hearty cheer of agreement rang back in his ears.
- Alliance Space Station Retribution, Dock 3-B -
Alliance Captain Luza strode down the utilitarian hallway to where her ship should be docked. She glanced out the halls widow placed near the airlock, merely a cursory glance that every captain did when they got to see the outside of their pride and joy for a change. Her glance returned to the airlock, then whipped around and stared out the window again, her feet nearly tripping over one another. The vessel docked at the slip most assuredly was NOT her beloved Bo'Par. The fleet little B'rel class ship that had been her first command was now gone. In its place was a shining new vessel. The pristine Vampire class was one of the newest ships designed by Klingon engineers. This one looked like it was fresh from the shipyard. The Vampire got its name from a mythical Terran creature that sucked the lifeblood from its victims. An Engineer with a twisted sense of humor had stuck the moniker on the ship when it was still a prototype and it had stuck. There was a certain irony in using it, seeing as how this class would be draining the lifeblood of the Terran Empire, its starships. Something was wrong here Luza thought as she approached the wall com and stabbed it with an angry finger. Whomever the globfly was that had moved her ship without informing her was in for it.
"Luza to command, what have you pahtks done with my ship!" She growled into the com screen in her most menacing voice.
"Done Captain? Nothing at all. It's at Dock 3-B, right where it should be. What seems to be the problem?"
"Incompetent fools!" Luza muttered under her breath as one of her hands stroked her cranial ridges in a vain effort to relived the building stress. Then she spoke louder, carefully enunciating her words as if speaking to a mere child. "The vessel at Dock 3-B is not my ship. My ship is a B'rel, and the ship docked at the airlock most assuredly is not a B'rel! Now find my ship or so help me you will be begging me to kill you before I am through with you!"
"But Captain, that ship is yours. General Worf has said as much, I just assumed that you were already informed." A shocked look came over Luza as she heard the faceless voice of a central command officer across the tiny com's speaker.
"I. see command. Thank you for clarifying things, Luza out."
Captain Luza stare at the majestic ship hanging in front of the window. It was close to the size of a K'Vort class, but it looked like an engineer had been asleep when the ship was being put together. Its aft section looked vaguely like twin K'Vort class aft sections mated together, and its neck and command deck had more in common with a Vor'cha class than your standard K'Vort. The Vampire class mounted 5 rapid fire disruptor batteries fore, a quantum torpedo launcher for and aft and a Mauler device foreword. The ship was nearly as maneuverable as a B'rel with significantly greater punch. While its warp core lacked the power to charge the Mauler's massive capacitor array quickly, it was able to handily recharge the disruptor's while maintaining a speedy flight profile. They were used to strike hard fast with their maulers, then close rapidly and finish off anything left with their disruptor banks. Slightly awe struck, Luza began to move towards the airlock and her X winged prize.
The honor guard just inside the vessel's airlock braced to attention as she stepped into the dark brown/tan interior of the ship. Luza moved through her ship as if in a daze. This was too much to take in all at once. General Worf must have considerable confidence in her abilities to hand her a ship like this as only her second command. She walked into the bridge and saw her first officer stand up from the central chair and brace at attention along with the rest of the bridge crew.
"Commander Krell, would you care to explain the meaning of this to me?"
"Captain?"
"Don't play coy with me, why was I granted this ship, and why was my entire bridge crew transferred here to it?"
"All I know is that General Worf personally ordered that one of the new light fast attack cruisers be dispatched here for your new command. He swore me to secrecy, or else I would have told you. He also ordered that the Bo'Par's entire crew be transferred to this vessel, citing the fact that he didn't want to unsettle such a competent crew and commander on the eve of the rebirth of the Klingon Empire."
"All right, then what is the name of this new vessel I am to command?"
"He is the Imperial Klingon Vessel Bortas sir! And a fine ship he is to!" Luza's first officer said with an excited gleam in his eye.
"We shall see.Are we ready to depart?" After Krell nodded affirmative, Luza sank into her new command chair, then began issuing orders. "Bring main power on line, slip all moorings, release docking clamps, bow thrusters ΒΌ." A chorus of ayes answered her and the bridge officers busied themselves disengaging from the massive bulk of Retribution Station. Clangs and cracks of disengaging docking mechanisms were heard throughout the ship.
Outside, running lights came on, highlighting the green exterior of the ship with smears of light. Puffs of thrusters jetted from the bow portals, gently pushing the ship away from the station. Once sufficient distance had been made between the station and the ship, her impulse drives began to glow as power flooded into them, In the blink of an eye, the ship had flipped 180 degrees and began streaming away from the station. She quickly dropped into her assigned formation, Wing leader of four other Vampires. The new wing maneuvered into the growing stream of Alliance vessels as they joined up for the convoy to their assigned launch point. Hundreds.thousands of vessels streamed past before the Bortas and her sister's place in the formation came up. Klingon Chava'kals, Koloths, D-7 refits, B'rels, K'Vorts, Vampires, Vor'chas and Negh'Vars past the Bortas. Cardassian Hidekis, Legates, Rasilaks, Sartans, Galors and Keldons cruised by. Romulan Talons, Shrikes, Griffins, Shadows, Venators and massive Warbirds jockeyed for positions in the convoy. Breen cruisers and battleships weaved their way through the fleet. There were even the odd Lyran and Mirak ships present, sent here as part of their contribution to the Alliance on this front. Klingon, Cardassian, Romulan and Breen ships were present in the fleets moving to the Lyran/Mirak front as well. After a few more moments, the entire ungainly, massive formation cloaked and entered the subspace corridor to its rally point. From there, it would only be a few short hours till they began the offensive.