-Chapter Nine - Reunions-
-Valley Forge, Sector One-
Ulysses scowled over his hands as he sat in his command chair. He felt a nearly overwhelming urge to have a shower, but resisted it. It was a benefit to the galaxy as a whole that the pirates had been swiftly and permanently dealt with. Yet for all their subhuman impulses that they were allowed to engage in, their pursuit had been almost perfect. Ulysses himself would have left a couple of his destroyers to guard the captured merchies, but he couldn't fault their precise approach formation. Their envelopment maneuver was right out of the Starfleet handbook and was as exacting as any Academy professor demanded. That spoke of bad things, for Pirate activity was on a meteoric rise since nearly the beginning of the Imperial/GA conflict.
And the fragmentary reports coming in from across the Empire were painting a picture of a resurgent pirate threat that was both smart and well equipped. They had to be getting their equipment from some source, but where? As much as he wanted to see the violent, murderous and oftentimes corrupt Terran Empire government dead and buried, Ulysses knew that it was fortunate he and the rest of Starfleet had been given a free hand in dealing with pirates by the Emperor. Though Ulysses might wish the man dead for extremely personal reasons, he had to grudgingly admit that the Emperor's plans so far had genuine benefits. Many of the Councilors that had made up the old government had been complacent in regards to organized crime. Ulysses suspected that many had been more than complacent, either bought off or otherwise in the pocket of organized crime. Piracy had been bad enough even then, but it was a genuine threat now. The few thousand merchant ships that had disappeared annually under the old regime had been bad enough. But in the last month alone, close to the average ANNUAL merchant tonnage lost to piracy. And it wasn't even as bad as the numbers alone said. Usual pirates stole the cargo, had their perverse brand of fun, then left the merchie relatively intact. The new pirates left no survivors, both in ship and crew form, in their wake.
The streaked, cloud like, swirling blue tunnel of slipstream drive gave way to normal space. The -Valley Forge- was immediately challenged and the massive outer shell of battle stations, weapons platforms and starships that sheathed Sol System like a modern day castle ramparts locked her up with their fire control sensors, ready to fire at a moments notice. The mere fact that her computer had already given them the correct countersign to their challenge was the sole reason they hadn't already opened fire.
In front of them, stretching deeper and deeper insystem till it thinned from view was the ever-present column of starships plying for Sol's inner system. Many had noticeably shifted in visible light color as they approached the normal ¾'s C transit velocity. The nearer ships were still accelerating insystem so the shift wasn't as noticeable. With precise movement of his hand, Ulysses reset the holo display from direct visual feed to a composite sensor return. The ships resolved themselves from smears of Doppler shifted color to computer generated representations of what they would look like if at speeds considerably slower.
"Incoming signal from Perimeter Command sir."
"Put it up."
"Would you mind explaining why you are towing four Atlas class cargo ships Captain?!"
"We received their distress call enroute to the Regulus System Fleet Gunnery Range for space trials. Their escort had been wiped out by Pirates numbering eight Destroyers and three Battle Cruisers." That gave the Perimeter Command Commodore pause, for a wolf pack that large was something dangerous. "We stopped to lend them a hand. All pirate ships and their crews are destroyed. I have a full report to file with Starfleet Command on the incident."
"Very well Captain. You may proceed insystem for debrief and final outfitting. Drop the disabled merchies at." the Commodore scanned through his list of possible slips, "Repair Dry Dock 7127."
"Understood sir." Ulysses said as the Commodore terminated the connection. "Helm, take us in." The stars and blue ID bracketed battle stations shifted back into subtle motion as his command brought its STL drive online. The -Forge- and her trailing merchies on their tractor beam leashes left the approach lane and its near prow to stern column of starships. Ulysses double-checked the merchies IFF beacons. It wouldn't do to have them come through so much only to be mistaken for an enemy by an errant mine intent on performing its sole duty of self immolation. Everything was as it should be, Ulysses' concern proving unwarranted as their beacons continued to broadcast clear and perfectly.
At least Repair Dry Dock 7127 wasn't to far off of the Main Transit Locus. Rather than continue around the outside of the system's defenses, Ulysses had chosen the direct approach, cutting across the outer defensive perimeter and speeding up the drop off time by quite a margin. True he could have micro-jumped there in milliseconds, but excessive micro-jumping was rather wasteful on the QSS drives life span and the trip was only 15 minutes at full impulse. The massive merchant shipyard and repair slip at the edge of Sol System grew large on the main viewer. Though not as individually impressive as The Yard here at Sol, or the massive military shipyards at Alpha Centauri and Vulcan, they were still one of the largest concentrations of Merchant shipbuilding and repair in the known galaxy. Slip after slip, tied together with mesh like superstructures stretched out to beyond where human vision could see. Yard spotlights cast pools of light on thousands of hulls of various styles. All were in varying states of completion, everything from freshly laid keel's to nearly completed cargo ships were visible. Robotic arms and living work crews in construction hardsuits and work bee's swarmed about everything, giving the entire complex the look of a disturbed anthill.
"Open a channel." Ulysses said as they cruised towards their destination.
"Channel open."
"This is the -ISS Valley Forge- to Repair Dry Dock 7127. I have some customers for you."
"Understood -Valley Forge-. You may let them go. We'll take it from here."
"Very good. -Valley Forge- out. You may disengage the tractor beams. Open a channel to the Merchant ships." Ulysses turned to face the window that expanded on his holodisplay. "Captain, I'm afraid that we must part company. I wish you and your crews a speedy recovery and once again apologize for Starfleet's inability to protect you."
"No apology is necessary Captain Vanguard. If it wasn't for you showing up when you did we would all be dead by now instead of the pirates. On behalf of my crew and myself I thank you and your valiant crew." The ranking surviving merchie officer said with a broad smile of gratitude.
"You're welcome. Vanguard out." Ulysses watched as the com screen shrank back to the nothingness from which it sprang. "Request a course for Terra Orbit from System Control. Once you have it, give it to Helm and engage."
"Aye sir." The Com officer said.
After a few seconds of quiet conversation between the junior officer and a Lt. in System Control, the Valley Forge swung up and away from the civilian shipyard. Once she had achieved sufficient separation, she swung towards the barely visible point of light that was Terra and engaged her slipstream drive. In a barely imperceptible time period, space reverted to the swirling tunnel of slipstream. Then normal space reappeared with the ¼ crescent of Terra hanging prominently to one side of the holo display. The glowing outlines of vast cities shone on the mother world's night side. A time traveler, if such a thing were possible, from the late 21's century would have found the world largely the same as it had been in his day. Certainly the cities were slightly larger and definitely more vertical, but the ratio of land usage was approximately the same. What that traveler would find strikingly different would be the night sky. Massive defensive stations and shipyards, to say nothing of The Yard itself, had sprouted in Terra orbit. Many of these structures could easily be seen from earth, forming miniature constellations of star like lights as they sat serenely in orbit.
They were nothing in scale compared to the industrial constructs in Alpha Centauri, both in orbit and on the planet itself, but they remained an impressive concentration of weapons platforms and construction centers.
"Send Starfleet Command my regards and transmit our after action report. Something tells me that they will want a debrief before we do anything else."
-Valley Forge, Terra Orbit, 2 hours later-
Ulysses rematerialized in the -Forge's- main transporter room. His debrief hadn't been as bad as he suspected. That was partially because the Admiralty had received reports from other ships on the resurgent Pirate threat. His debriefer had even let slip that the other reports had shown similar starships, both in capabilities and styling. This didn't bode well for merchant ships, for Starfleet would find it very difficult to find adequate ships to guard the convoys that plied the trade routes inside the Empire. Ships were being rushed into production as fast as possible, but it would be a while before there were enough hulls to defend against heavily armed and speedy Pirate wolf packs while adequately defending the new borders with the Grand Alliance.
"Well Cmdr.," Ulysses said to P'tel, "it would seem that Starfleet Command is already aware of the rising pirate threat. They just seem unable to do much about it with the current state of affairs."
"That is not entirely unexpected Captain." She replied as he stepped down from the transporter platform. "Starfleet has been under staffed, both in manpower and hulls, since the end of the Imperial/Borg war. The recent flare up between the Empire and the members of the Grand Alliance has merely enhanced the problem. Now, even more of our ships are tied down defending instead of engaging in active operations. In a way it's a good thing that the war has slowed to sniping from both sides. If the Empire had to engage in a large-scale conflict, we would be forced to leave important areas either weakly defended or not defended at all. There just aren't enough warships currently active to meet all of Starfleet's requirements."
"That's changing slowly but surely. Many of the second run of capital ships are nearing completion, which should bolster our lines sufficiently to allow us to go on the offensive again soon. Unfortunately, we most likely won't be a part of it. Starbase 2000, while being the most important and largest base we have in the Delta Quadrant, is still about as far from the front lines as one can get. I have also heard disturbing reports coming from that area. T'var has said that with the slowing of settlement in former Borg Space these last few years, Starbase 2000 has dropped from its former perch as the premier Fleet Station. She was unable to provide specifics but she definitely implied that being posted there wasn't the honor it once was."
"I feel confident that you will prove otherwise Captain."
"Exec, your confidence in me is welcome, but I'm not sure of your logic."
"In the short time I have known you sir, you have risen two grades in rank, gained captaincy of one of the Empire's premier warships and been decorated with the Empire's highest award for valor. You have managed to find a workable solution to every task placed in front of you. Logic dictates that this will continue to be the case."
Ulysses was about to reply when his communicator chirped. He absently tapped it. "Vanguard here."
"Captain, Starbase Alpha reports that our Chief Medical Officer and our Political Commissar are ready to beam up."
"Very good. Vanguard out." Ulysses turned towards the transporter chief. "You may activate the transport at your leisure Chief."
"Aye sir." After a few taps on the transporter control pad, the chief pushed two of the activation sliders upwards. A faint whine filled the transporter room as the final two members of the -Valley Forge's- crew materialized. Both Ulysses and P'tel had known that they would be ready for beam up close to when Starfleet Command would be done their debrief, so they had merely waited the few intervening minutes in the transporter room.
The first figure was clad in the red and black of a Section 31 Commissar. She had auburn hair pulled back into a braided ponytail. Her features, while beautiful, were largely canceled out by her severe expression and ice blue eyes. As she stared down at Ulysses, he could see the cold calculation in her eyes. While privately Ulysses thought admitting political commissars into a starships chain of command, however unofficially, was a bad idea, there was nothing he could do about it. While the Commissar's might not formally be part of the chain of command, no serving officer in their right mind would second guess a member of Section 31. Getting his ships commissar to sign off on his plans would be just one more obstacle that would have to be overcome. Ulysses forced his face to show a smile as he extended his hand to her as she stepped down from the platform.
"Commissar Stevens, what a pleasure to meet you. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well Captain." She replied with a false smile that never quite made it to her eyes. From the looks of things, Commissar Jessica Stevens would prove to be a very thorny problem indeed.
Ulysses turned to survey his CMO. Just when he thought that the universe had stopped throwing him curve balls for once, another hit him between the eyes. Here she was, nearly the same as he had remembered her. It had been years, but she was just as striking as he had remembered. Ulysses brain shifted gears after being stuck in neutral for a barely perceptible second. He extended his hand to his new Doctor.
"Cmdr. Anna Petersmith," Ulysses managed to get out normally, "it's a pleasure to meet you as well. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-." The pair shook hands as he spoke. Everyone else was behind them, so the shock and surprise in Ulysses eyes was seen only by the Doctor.
"It's good to finally meet the Hero of the Empire in the flesh. I must say that you are considerably shorter in person than you appear on the holos." She said with a twinkle in her eyes. One thing was certain, her sense of humor hadn't changed much in the last 11 years.
-Valley Forge, Sector One-
Ulysses scowled over his hands as he sat in his command chair. He felt a nearly overwhelming urge to have a shower, but resisted it. It was a benefit to the galaxy as a whole that the pirates had been swiftly and permanently dealt with. Yet for all their subhuman impulses that they were allowed to engage in, their pursuit had been almost perfect. Ulysses himself would have left a couple of his destroyers to guard the captured merchies, but he couldn't fault their precise approach formation. Their envelopment maneuver was right out of the Starfleet handbook and was as exacting as any Academy professor demanded. That spoke of bad things, for Pirate activity was on a meteoric rise since nearly the beginning of the Imperial/GA conflict.
And the fragmentary reports coming in from across the Empire were painting a picture of a resurgent pirate threat that was both smart and well equipped. They had to be getting their equipment from some source, but where? As much as he wanted to see the violent, murderous and oftentimes corrupt Terran Empire government dead and buried, Ulysses knew that it was fortunate he and the rest of Starfleet had been given a free hand in dealing with pirates by the Emperor. Though Ulysses might wish the man dead for extremely personal reasons, he had to grudgingly admit that the Emperor's plans so far had genuine benefits. Many of the Councilors that had made up the old government had been complacent in regards to organized crime. Ulysses suspected that many had been more than complacent, either bought off or otherwise in the pocket of organized crime. Piracy had been bad enough even then, but it was a genuine threat now. The few thousand merchant ships that had disappeared annually under the old regime had been bad enough. But in the last month alone, close to the average ANNUAL merchant tonnage lost to piracy. And it wasn't even as bad as the numbers alone said. Usual pirates stole the cargo, had their perverse brand of fun, then left the merchie relatively intact. The new pirates left no survivors, both in ship and crew form, in their wake.
The streaked, cloud like, swirling blue tunnel of slipstream drive gave way to normal space. The -Valley Forge- was immediately challenged and the massive outer shell of battle stations, weapons platforms and starships that sheathed Sol System like a modern day castle ramparts locked her up with their fire control sensors, ready to fire at a moments notice. The mere fact that her computer had already given them the correct countersign to their challenge was the sole reason they hadn't already opened fire.
In front of them, stretching deeper and deeper insystem till it thinned from view was the ever-present column of starships plying for Sol's inner system. Many had noticeably shifted in visible light color as they approached the normal ¾'s C transit velocity. The nearer ships were still accelerating insystem so the shift wasn't as noticeable. With precise movement of his hand, Ulysses reset the holo display from direct visual feed to a composite sensor return. The ships resolved themselves from smears of Doppler shifted color to computer generated representations of what they would look like if at speeds considerably slower.
"Incoming signal from Perimeter Command sir."
"Put it up."
"Would you mind explaining why you are towing four Atlas class cargo ships Captain?!"
"We received their distress call enroute to the Regulus System Fleet Gunnery Range for space trials. Their escort had been wiped out by Pirates numbering eight Destroyers and three Battle Cruisers." That gave the Perimeter Command Commodore pause, for a wolf pack that large was something dangerous. "We stopped to lend them a hand. All pirate ships and their crews are destroyed. I have a full report to file with Starfleet Command on the incident."
"Very well Captain. You may proceed insystem for debrief and final outfitting. Drop the disabled merchies at." the Commodore scanned through his list of possible slips, "Repair Dry Dock 7127."
"Understood sir." Ulysses said as the Commodore terminated the connection. "Helm, take us in." The stars and blue ID bracketed battle stations shifted back into subtle motion as his command brought its STL drive online. The -Forge- and her trailing merchies on their tractor beam leashes left the approach lane and its near prow to stern column of starships. Ulysses double-checked the merchies IFF beacons. It wouldn't do to have them come through so much only to be mistaken for an enemy by an errant mine intent on performing its sole duty of self immolation. Everything was as it should be, Ulysses' concern proving unwarranted as their beacons continued to broadcast clear and perfectly.
At least Repair Dry Dock 7127 wasn't to far off of the Main Transit Locus. Rather than continue around the outside of the system's defenses, Ulysses had chosen the direct approach, cutting across the outer defensive perimeter and speeding up the drop off time by quite a margin. True he could have micro-jumped there in milliseconds, but excessive micro-jumping was rather wasteful on the QSS drives life span and the trip was only 15 minutes at full impulse. The massive merchant shipyard and repair slip at the edge of Sol System grew large on the main viewer. Though not as individually impressive as The Yard here at Sol, or the massive military shipyards at Alpha Centauri and Vulcan, they were still one of the largest concentrations of Merchant shipbuilding and repair in the known galaxy. Slip after slip, tied together with mesh like superstructures stretched out to beyond where human vision could see. Yard spotlights cast pools of light on thousands of hulls of various styles. All were in varying states of completion, everything from freshly laid keel's to nearly completed cargo ships were visible. Robotic arms and living work crews in construction hardsuits and work bee's swarmed about everything, giving the entire complex the look of a disturbed anthill.
"Open a channel." Ulysses said as they cruised towards their destination.
"Channel open."
"This is the -ISS Valley Forge- to Repair Dry Dock 7127. I have some customers for you."
"Understood -Valley Forge-. You may let them go. We'll take it from here."
"Very good. -Valley Forge- out. You may disengage the tractor beams. Open a channel to the Merchant ships." Ulysses turned to face the window that expanded on his holodisplay. "Captain, I'm afraid that we must part company. I wish you and your crews a speedy recovery and once again apologize for Starfleet's inability to protect you."
"No apology is necessary Captain Vanguard. If it wasn't for you showing up when you did we would all be dead by now instead of the pirates. On behalf of my crew and myself I thank you and your valiant crew." The ranking surviving merchie officer said with a broad smile of gratitude.
"You're welcome. Vanguard out." Ulysses watched as the com screen shrank back to the nothingness from which it sprang. "Request a course for Terra Orbit from System Control. Once you have it, give it to Helm and engage."
"Aye sir." The Com officer said.
After a few seconds of quiet conversation between the junior officer and a Lt. in System Control, the Valley Forge swung up and away from the civilian shipyard. Once she had achieved sufficient separation, she swung towards the barely visible point of light that was Terra and engaged her slipstream drive. In a barely imperceptible time period, space reverted to the swirling tunnel of slipstream. Then normal space reappeared with the ¼ crescent of Terra hanging prominently to one side of the holo display. The glowing outlines of vast cities shone on the mother world's night side. A time traveler, if such a thing were possible, from the late 21's century would have found the world largely the same as it had been in his day. Certainly the cities were slightly larger and definitely more vertical, but the ratio of land usage was approximately the same. What that traveler would find strikingly different would be the night sky. Massive defensive stations and shipyards, to say nothing of The Yard itself, had sprouted in Terra orbit. Many of these structures could easily be seen from earth, forming miniature constellations of star like lights as they sat serenely in orbit.
They were nothing in scale compared to the industrial constructs in Alpha Centauri, both in orbit and on the planet itself, but they remained an impressive concentration of weapons platforms and construction centers.
"Send Starfleet Command my regards and transmit our after action report. Something tells me that they will want a debrief before we do anything else."
-Valley Forge, Terra Orbit, 2 hours later-
Ulysses rematerialized in the -Forge's- main transporter room. His debrief hadn't been as bad as he suspected. That was partially because the Admiralty had received reports from other ships on the resurgent Pirate threat. His debriefer had even let slip that the other reports had shown similar starships, both in capabilities and styling. This didn't bode well for merchant ships, for Starfleet would find it very difficult to find adequate ships to guard the convoys that plied the trade routes inside the Empire. Ships were being rushed into production as fast as possible, but it would be a while before there were enough hulls to defend against heavily armed and speedy Pirate wolf packs while adequately defending the new borders with the Grand Alliance.
"Well Cmdr.," Ulysses said to P'tel, "it would seem that Starfleet Command is already aware of the rising pirate threat. They just seem unable to do much about it with the current state of affairs."
"That is not entirely unexpected Captain." She replied as he stepped down from the transporter platform. "Starfleet has been under staffed, both in manpower and hulls, since the end of the Imperial/Borg war. The recent flare up between the Empire and the members of the Grand Alliance has merely enhanced the problem. Now, even more of our ships are tied down defending instead of engaging in active operations. In a way it's a good thing that the war has slowed to sniping from both sides. If the Empire had to engage in a large-scale conflict, we would be forced to leave important areas either weakly defended or not defended at all. There just aren't enough warships currently active to meet all of Starfleet's requirements."
"That's changing slowly but surely. Many of the second run of capital ships are nearing completion, which should bolster our lines sufficiently to allow us to go on the offensive again soon. Unfortunately, we most likely won't be a part of it. Starbase 2000, while being the most important and largest base we have in the Delta Quadrant, is still about as far from the front lines as one can get. I have also heard disturbing reports coming from that area. T'var has said that with the slowing of settlement in former Borg Space these last few years, Starbase 2000 has dropped from its former perch as the premier Fleet Station. She was unable to provide specifics but she definitely implied that being posted there wasn't the honor it once was."
"I feel confident that you will prove otherwise Captain."
"Exec, your confidence in me is welcome, but I'm not sure of your logic."
"In the short time I have known you sir, you have risen two grades in rank, gained captaincy of one of the Empire's premier warships and been decorated with the Empire's highest award for valor. You have managed to find a workable solution to every task placed in front of you. Logic dictates that this will continue to be the case."
Ulysses was about to reply when his communicator chirped. He absently tapped it. "Vanguard here."
"Captain, Starbase Alpha reports that our Chief Medical Officer and our Political Commissar are ready to beam up."
"Very good. Vanguard out." Ulysses turned towards the transporter chief. "You may activate the transport at your leisure Chief."
"Aye sir." After a few taps on the transporter control pad, the chief pushed two of the activation sliders upwards. A faint whine filled the transporter room as the final two members of the -Valley Forge's- crew materialized. Both Ulysses and P'tel had known that they would be ready for beam up close to when Starfleet Command would be done their debrief, so they had merely waited the few intervening minutes in the transporter room.
The first figure was clad in the red and black of a Section 31 Commissar. She had auburn hair pulled back into a braided ponytail. Her features, while beautiful, were largely canceled out by her severe expression and ice blue eyes. As she stared down at Ulysses, he could see the cold calculation in her eyes. While privately Ulysses thought admitting political commissars into a starships chain of command, however unofficially, was a bad idea, there was nothing he could do about it. While the Commissar's might not formally be part of the chain of command, no serving officer in their right mind would second guess a member of Section 31. Getting his ships commissar to sign off on his plans would be just one more obstacle that would have to be overcome. Ulysses forced his face to show a smile as he extended his hand to her as she stepped down from the platform.
"Commissar Stevens, what a pleasure to meet you. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well Captain." She replied with a false smile that never quite made it to her eyes. From the looks of things, Commissar Jessica Stevens would prove to be a very thorny problem indeed.
Ulysses turned to survey his CMO. Just when he thought that the universe had stopped throwing him curve balls for once, another hit him between the eyes. Here she was, nearly the same as he had remembered her. It had been years, but she was just as striking as he had remembered. Ulysses brain shifted gears after being stuck in neutral for a barely perceptible second. He extended his hand to his new Doctor.
"Cmdr. Anna Petersmith," Ulysses managed to get out normally, "it's a pleasure to meet you as well. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-." The pair shook hands as he spoke. Everyone else was behind them, so the shock and surprise in Ulysses eyes was seen only by the Doctor.
"It's good to finally meet the Hero of the Empire in the flesh. I must say that you are considerably shorter in person than you appear on the holos." She said with a twinkle in her eyes. One thing was certain, her sense of humor hadn't changed much in the last 11 years.