Chapter Thirteen – Starbase 2000
Starbase 2000, Delta Quadrant
The dirtside component of Starbase 2000 was a cool M-class planet barely inside the liquid water zone of the local yellow, main sequence sun known as Prescott's Star. The change in orbit to make the planet warmer was deemed by Starfleet Command to be so insignificant to be uneconomical to move, so vast polar ice caps covered much of the planet. Near the equator, the mean temperature was pleasant, but at the poles, the temperature regularly plummeted to well, WELL below freezing. The planet was called Lilith, and though the system was well into former Borg held space, but the system possessed no intelligent life and few resources that the Borg didn't already have in more populous systems. Just the same, there was a significant metal heavy asteroid belt and some of the moons orbiting the star's gas giants could make excellent colony worlds in the future.
But that wasn't the reason Starfleet chose Prescott's Star for the location of its primary base of operations in the Delta Quadrant. The main reason was that Prescott's Star, like only a handful of other systems yet discovered, was a rather large nexus of subspace corridor loci. While most systems held around four or five loci, Prescott's Star held upwards of 20. Many were still being plotted by Scifleet vessels to allow accurate navigation through them, but one could already travel throughout most of the Delta quadrant from Prescott's Star without having to "change lanes" through another star system.
It was on Lilith, in the Capital city of Eden, where the Starfleet brass responsible for one of the largest Starbases, Fleetyards and conglomeration of colonized sectors outside of the core worlds met to plan out how to put the government's vision into practice. Although Lilith's population had grown to over five billion in the ten years since the colony was founded, it was still under Starfleet jurisdiction. While the original prestige of the post may have left as Starfleet and the Empire became preoccupied with pressing concerns elsewhere, there was still a colony to run and a gaggle of sectors to rule.
Inside the Sector Council Chambers there was a collection of brass not seen outside of Starfleet Command on Terra. All officers of Flag Rank were required to attend, as it would be they that executed first the Terran Council and now the Emperor's will. One would have thought that such a collection of high-ranking officers would be a prime target for any faction with a grudge against the Terran Empire, and indeed it is. But the assembled officers had given weighty kickbacks to local criminal cartels for protection and intel official sources couldn't provide. They felt secure in their security precautions. No external force could get past the system's defenses before they could be whisked away via transporter and no local force could slip past their security net. Or so they thought.
Unity Operative 11J, Outside the Sector Council Chambers, Eden
The operative slunk about in the shadows of the vibrant and growing city. It was through a combination of factors that he could succeed where others would be caught. Even though the Terran Empire was currently engaged in a war with eight other powers, the security measures at this base had grown lax. The security of Starbase 2000 had grown considerably more haphazard over the recent years. Most of it was due to diligent and dedicated personnel being shifted to more active posts. Part of it was due to the stepping down of Starbase 2000's priority being seen as a green light to begin dumping the true dregs of Starfleet there so they wouldn't bother anyone else. But no matter the cause, the new holes in the base's security umbrella meant that an operative could sneak into the base, and with a little liberal palm greasing, bring explosives as well.
From beneath his tunic, the operative pulled a remote detonator. After pressing the lone button, a booming explosion was heard. The Sector Council Chambers collapsed in on itself, crushing nearly every ranking Starfleet Flag Officer in the Delta Quadrant under thousands and thousands of tons of rubble. From here and there, wild cheers could be heard from small knots of Starfleet personnel. Others, the young officers and enlisted personnel yet to be corrupted by the growing rot of the place, could only stare in wild-eyed, terror filled disbelief as death visited their upper ranks almost to a man. Civil defense and emergency response team alarms began to sound throughout the city.
From his place in the shadows, the operative working towards the ends of the Galactic Unity straightened upright while at the same time searching for any prying eyes. Finding none with both his eyes and passive sensor suite, his ancient, vagabond style clothing shifted to liquid and reformed into the Starfleet command branch uniform. His face shifted, taking the form of the junior officer he had first come across that fitted his needs. The young Lieutenant had been so young, so trusting, it was pitifully easy to vaporize him and assume his identity. With a brief grin at his success, the Changeling put on his game face and joined the Starfleeters running towards the Council Chambers in a vain attempt to render aid. There were only a few thousand Founders left thanks to the surprise attack by the Terran Empire on their homeworld. The Jem'Hadar responsible for his safety had been nearly implacable when they learned that he planned to join the advance team of operatives that would lay the groundwork for the coming offensive. They had argued, and it took a lot of desperation to make a Jem'Hadar argue with a God, that the risks such exposure would entail would be unacceptable given the current situation. The Founder had almost agreed with them, but the success of the proposed mission took paramount over his life, and only a Changeling could pull the mission off. And since no one suspected him, he could remain to continue sowing death, destruction and chaos in preparation to the Unity assault on this system.
ISS Valley Forge, 8 minutes out from Starbase 2000
Ulysses was pleased with the way his Battlegroup was coming together. The four Wraith (U)s of the Battlegroup, theMuteki, Thanatos, Kraken and Heidon were, after removing some rough edges, performing admirably in the squadron level sims. Their CO's had been recommended by T'var as being of agreeable mindset, and they were proving very useful in bringing most of the flotilla's escort commanders inline. Most Captains were able to recommend which CO's would be under them in their Battlegroups' command structure. Since Ulysses also had the Lion of Terra, his requests held more sway with the brass than your average Fleet Captain would have. But while his fellow superdreadnought squadronmates might be ones of his choosing, many of the Battlegroup's escorts were not. Although many were following the example of their Flag Captain, whose command style was backed up by stellar efficiency numbers, many were bound and determined to bring up their own sloppy numbers through violent means. While capital punishment for the Battlegroup as a whole was down considerably from Starfleet norm, on certain ships it was up by an astounding margin. One thing was certain, Commissar Stevens was surely taking detailed notes on all the comings and goings of his command. While she knew full well that he was more easygoing in the gratuitous punishment area than most officers in the fleet, she most certainly couldn't argue with the results his command style was bearing.
At the very least, Starbase needed a strong hand right now. From all reports, the attack on the Eden Council Chamber had been a disaster. The current ranking officer for the entire sector was a very junior Commodore from Supply and Spare Requisition. Starfleet Command had sent word that replacement Sector Commander and other flag personnel had been sent, but they would be months away. Till they arrived, it looked like it would be up to a young Captain to whip the station into shape. Although he might not have traditional seniority, the Lion of Terra on his left breast gave him all the seniority he would need. Not that it would be easy, nor without a large amount of risk, but it was what needed to be done.
"Coming up on Starbase 2000 Skipper." Demora interrupted his thoughts. Ulysses was about to reply when the significance of what she had said hit him. Crew were very particular of to whom the ancient honorific of Skipper was bestowed. It spoke volumes of the mutual trust that had been built up during the long weeks of travel. While Ulysses didn't spare any officer or crewmember corporal punishment when it was warranted, he never used it as a means to play his crew off of each other and never used it for minor infractions. While some crewmen initially used this less harsh regime to their benefit, they eventually brought a thorough punishment down upon themselves and became ostracized from the majority of their crewmates who were trying their darndest to give 110%.
"Thank you helm." Ulysses replied warmly. "Slow to full impulse."
"Aye Sir."
The assembled warships with their minnow like escorts slowed from Slipstream. With the five upgraded Wraiths in an X formation in their center, 25 Achilles Destroyers, 25 Soulwolf Heavy Destroyers and two Aegean Fleet Support Destroyers rounded out the Valley Forge Battlegroup. The star flecked ebon black of normal space stretched out around them.
"IIF interrogation coming in, automated system only." P'tel said with an arched eyebrow.
"Automated only? Where's the duty watch officer?"
"Unknown sir."
"Open a channel."
"Channel open."
"Starbase 2000, this is Captain Vanguard of the Valley Forge, respond."
There was a noticeable lag, and Ulysses was about to repeat his demand when the com screen finally blossomed to life. It showed a nonchalant young officer who looked irritated at having been disturbed.
"Yah, yah, just pull up and dock wherever there is a free space." He flippantly replied, then the com channel closed. Ulysses eyes bulged. He knew things had deteriorated, but this was verging on the insane.
"Sir, sensors indicate that there are a large number of independent merchant and pleasure craft docked to the Starbase proper!" Cmdr. Davenport said in a shocked tone.
"What!" That WAS insane. No Starfleet facility permitted docking directly with their facilities. It was far too easy to have 'accidents' that crippled them that way. Ulysses shifted his holo display to tactical mode and like an orchestra conductor spun and zoomed the display so that the still distant weapons studded mushroom like shape of Starbase 2000 was clearly visible. Sure enough, there were a multitude of alien vessels docked to it's external ports. If even one of them induced their warp core to breach, the explosion would cause serious damage to the station before it could spool its shields up. Most of the system defense fleet was at anchor in geosync orbit near the Starbase, with only the bare minimum of patrols out. Ulysses shook his head in disbelief. From looking at the readiness of this base, you could never tell that the Empire was at war.
"Alright, this is how we are going to play this. I want our full marine compliment in power armor ready by the time we dock. Order the rest of the Battlegroup to provide overwatch while the Forge docks. Once we are docked, I want..."
Starbase 2000, 10 minutes later
Ulysses strode into Ops with his command cloak billowing behind him. A plethora of alien species stared back at him or ignored him. There were only two dozen or in Starfleet black and silver, and they seemed to be in the middle of deals or drinks or both. The mood of Ops was more like a lounge than the nerve center for the entire systems defense. With a quick scan of the room, Ulysses found a likely suspect. He was a trim looking Command branch Captain well into middle age with a nasty looking scar on his cheek, and he seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in the two female aliens purring sweet nothings into his ears. Ulysses approached him directly and when he was standing directly in front of him, yet in the dim light it was hard to see him without activating his enhanced Borg vision. He put all the command snap into his voice that he could.
"Are you in charge of this rabble?!" The Captain took a few seconds to acknowledge Ulysses presence, and behind him, Ulysses heard the room go silent at his cold demand.
"I might be, what business is it of yours? I think that you better go back to your ship and stay there. You have no authority here little boy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave now." He said with an arrogant smile. Many had tried to take command of Starbase 2000 and make something out of it, but they had all succumbed to its rot eventually. And now with all other high ranking officers out of the way, Captain Styles was free to take charge of the station. His bailiwick might be a cesspool but it was by God HIS cesspool now and no uppity young snot was going to get his just deserts away from him. The young pup in front of him couldn't be any more than his early twenties. And if he couldn't be made to see reason, well then that was what he had the other personnel on the Ops deck for. They liked the recent changes in command and didn't have any desire to rock the boat. In fact, they had strong incentive to keep things as they were for as long as possible.
"I asked you a question Captain and I expect an answer." Ulysses continued, and his voice was like liquid nitrogen. The room behind him had gone dead silent and more than a few of the aliens were making their way discreetly out of the room. Many others were looking on at the growing confrontation with eyes eager to see what happened next.
A slight frown crossed Stiles' face. Couldn't this wet behind the ears pup take a hint. He was alone, yet not a hint of fear came from him. "I don't give a good God damn what you expect 'Captain'," Stiles put as much scorn into the title as humanly possible, "but since you can't take the hint..." Stiles pulled his phaser from its holster in a fluid motion that was over in an eye blink. From the soft scrapping sounds behind him and a few eager snickers, the rest of the Ops officers and enlisted personnel had pulled their own phasers as well. "Now unless you have an army squirreled away somewhere 'Captain', you better get out of here before you wind up in Sickbay... or the Morgue!"
"Well I guess I can't argue with you Captain." Ulysses said in a meek and mild tone, putting on his best scared looking expression. "It's evident who has the upper hand here." Stiles' grin grew enormously as Ulysses cautiously backed away half a step. Then Ulysses half shadowed face flashed a clearly predatory smile. "Isn't it Gunny?"
"Aye, It is indeed sir." A disembodied voice said from an empty space in Ops. Stiles grin disappeared instantly, as did those on the rest of the Ops staff. A split second later, 20 figures in full power armor rippled into sight as they decloaked around the Ops deck. All hefted grav guns filled with flechette rounds. And all were expert marksmen. At the spitting range of the Ops deck, if they fired things would get very messy very fast.
Starbase 2000, Delta Quadrant
The dirtside component of Starbase 2000 was a cool M-class planet barely inside the liquid water zone of the local yellow, main sequence sun known as Prescott's Star. The change in orbit to make the planet warmer was deemed by Starfleet Command to be so insignificant to be uneconomical to move, so vast polar ice caps covered much of the planet. Near the equator, the mean temperature was pleasant, but at the poles, the temperature regularly plummeted to well, WELL below freezing. The planet was called Lilith, and though the system was well into former Borg held space, but the system possessed no intelligent life and few resources that the Borg didn't already have in more populous systems. Just the same, there was a significant metal heavy asteroid belt and some of the moons orbiting the star's gas giants could make excellent colony worlds in the future.
But that wasn't the reason Starfleet chose Prescott's Star for the location of its primary base of operations in the Delta Quadrant. The main reason was that Prescott's Star, like only a handful of other systems yet discovered, was a rather large nexus of subspace corridor loci. While most systems held around four or five loci, Prescott's Star held upwards of 20. Many were still being plotted by Scifleet vessels to allow accurate navigation through them, but one could already travel throughout most of the Delta quadrant from Prescott's Star without having to "change lanes" through another star system.
It was on Lilith, in the Capital city of Eden, where the Starfleet brass responsible for one of the largest Starbases, Fleetyards and conglomeration of colonized sectors outside of the core worlds met to plan out how to put the government's vision into practice. Although Lilith's population had grown to over five billion in the ten years since the colony was founded, it was still under Starfleet jurisdiction. While the original prestige of the post may have left as Starfleet and the Empire became preoccupied with pressing concerns elsewhere, there was still a colony to run and a gaggle of sectors to rule.
Inside the Sector Council Chambers there was a collection of brass not seen outside of Starfleet Command on Terra. All officers of Flag Rank were required to attend, as it would be they that executed first the Terran Council and now the Emperor's will. One would have thought that such a collection of high-ranking officers would be a prime target for any faction with a grudge against the Terran Empire, and indeed it is. But the assembled officers had given weighty kickbacks to local criminal cartels for protection and intel official sources couldn't provide. They felt secure in their security precautions. No external force could get past the system's defenses before they could be whisked away via transporter and no local force could slip past their security net. Or so they thought.
Unity Operative 11J, Outside the Sector Council Chambers, Eden
The operative slunk about in the shadows of the vibrant and growing city. It was through a combination of factors that he could succeed where others would be caught. Even though the Terran Empire was currently engaged in a war with eight other powers, the security measures at this base had grown lax. The security of Starbase 2000 had grown considerably more haphazard over the recent years. Most of it was due to diligent and dedicated personnel being shifted to more active posts. Part of it was due to the stepping down of Starbase 2000's priority being seen as a green light to begin dumping the true dregs of Starfleet there so they wouldn't bother anyone else. But no matter the cause, the new holes in the base's security umbrella meant that an operative could sneak into the base, and with a little liberal palm greasing, bring explosives as well.
From beneath his tunic, the operative pulled a remote detonator. After pressing the lone button, a booming explosion was heard. The Sector Council Chambers collapsed in on itself, crushing nearly every ranking Starfleet Flag Officer in the Delta Quadrant under thousands and thousands of tons of rubble. From here and there, wild cheers could be heard from small knots of Starfleet personnel. Others, the young officers and enlisted personnel yet to be corrupted by the growing rot of the place, could only stare in wild-eyed, terror filled disbelief as death visited their upper ranks almost to a man. Civil defense and emergency response team alarms began to sound throughout the city.
From his place in the shadows, the operative working towards the ends of the Galactic Unity straightened upright while at the same time searching for any prying eyes. Finding none with both his eyes and passive sensor suite, his ancient, vagabond style clothing shifted to liquid and reformed into the Starfleet command branch uniform. His face shifted, taking the form of the junior officer he had first come across that fitted his needs. The young Lieutenant had been so young, so trusting, it was pitifully easy to vaporize him and assume his identity. With a brief grin at his success, the Changeling put on his game face and joined the Starfleeters running towards the Council Chambers in a vain attempt to render aid. There were only a few thousand Founders left thanks to the surprise attack by the Terran Empire on their homeworld. The Jem'Hadar responsible for his safety had been nearly implacable when they learned that he planned to join the advance team of operatives that would lay the groundwork for the coming offensive. They had argued, and it took a lot of desperation to make a Jem'Hadar argue with a God, that the risks such exposure would entail would be unacceptable given the current situation. The Founder had almost agreed with them, but the success of the proposed mission took paramount over his life, and only a Changeling could pull the mission off. And since no one suspected him, he could remain to continue sowing death, destruction and chaos in preparation to the Unity assault on this system.
ISS Valley Forge, 8 minutes out from Starbase 2000
Ulysses was pleased with the way his Battlegroup was coming together. The four Wraith (U)s of the Battlegroup, theMuteki, Thanatos, Kraken and Heidon were, after removing some rough edges, performing admirably in the squadron level sims. Their CO's had been recommended by T'var as being of agreeable mindset, and they were proving very useful in bringing most of the flotilla's escort commanders inline. Most Captains were able to recommend which CO's would be under them in their Battlegroups' command structure. Since Ulysses also had the Lion of Terra, his requests held more sway with the brass than your average Fleet Captain would have. But while his fellow superdreadnought squadronmates might be ones of his choosing, many of the Battlegroup's escorts were not. Although many were following the example of their Flag Captain, whose command style was backed up by stellar efficiency numbers, many were bound and determined to bring up their own sloppy numbers through violent means. While capital punishment for the Battlegroup as a whole was down considerably from Starfleet norm, on certain ships it was up by an astounding margin. One thing was certain, Commissar Stevens was surely taking detailed notes on all the comings and goings of his command. While she knew full well that he was more easygoing in the gratuitous punishment area than most officers in the fleet, she most certainly couldn't argue with the results his command style was bearing.
At the very least, Starbase needed a strong hand right now. From all reports, the attack on the Eden Council Chamber had been a disaster. The current ranking officer for the entire sector was a very junior Commodore from Supply and Spare Requisition. Starfleet Command had sent word that replacement Sector Commander and other flag personnel had been sent, but they would be months away. Till they arrived, it looked like it would be up to a young Captain to whip the station into shape. Although he might not have traditional seniority, the Lion of Terra on his left breast gave him all the seniority he would need. Not that it would be easy, nor without a large amount of risk, but it was what needed to be done.
"Coming up on Starbase 2000 Skipper." Demora interrupted his thoughts. Ulysses was about to reply when the significance of what she had said hit him. Crew were very particular of to whom the ancient honorific of Skipper was bestowed. It spoke volumes of the mutual trust that had been built up during the long weeks of travel. While Ulysses didn't spare any officer or crewmember corporal punishment when it was warranted, he never used it as a means to play his crew off of each other and never used it for minor infractions. While some crewmen initially used this less harsh regime to their benefit, they eventually brought a thorough punishment down upon themselves and became ostracized from the majority of their crewmates who were trying their darndest to give 110%.
"Thank you helm." Ulysses replied warmly. "Slow to full impulse."
"Aye Sir."
The assembled warships with their minnow like escorts slowed from Slipstream. With the five upgraded Wraiths in an X formation in their center, 25 Achilles Destroyers, 25 Soulwolf Heavy Destroyers and two Aegean Fleet Support Destroyers rounded out the Valley Forge Battlegroup. The star flecked ebon black of normal space stretched out around them.
"IIF interrogation coming in, automated system only." P'tel said with an arched eyebrow.
"Automated only? Where's the duty watch officer?"
"Unknown sir."
"Open a channel."
"Channel open."
"Starbase 2000, this is Captain Vanguard of the Valley Forge, respond."
There was a noticeable lag, and Ulysses was about to repeat his demand when the com screen finally blossomed to life. It showed a nonchalant young officer who looked irritated at having been disturbed.
"Yah, yah, just pull up and dock wherever there is a free space." He flippantly replied, then the com channel closed. Ulysses eyes bulged. He knew things had deteriorated, but this was verging on the insane.
"Sir, sensors indicate that there are a large number of independent merchant and pleasure craft docked to the Starbase proper!" Cmdr. Davenport said in a shocked tone.
"What!" That WAS insane. No Starfleet facility permitted docking directly with their facilities. It was far too easy to have 'accidents' that crippled them that way. Ulysses shifted his holo display to tactical mode and like an orchestra conductor spun and zoomed the display so that the still distant weapons studded mushroom like shape of Starbase 2000 was clearly visible. Sure enough, there were a multitude of alien vessels docked to it's external ports. If even one of them induced their warp core to breach, the explosion would cause serious damage to the station before it could spool its shields up. Most of the system defense fleet was at anchor in geosync orbit near the Starbase, with only the bare minimum of patrols out. Ulysses shook his head in disbelief. From looking at the readiness of this base, you could never tell that the Empire was at war.
"Alright, this is how we are going to play this. I want our full marine compliment in power armor ready by the time we dock. Order the rest of the Battlegroup to provide overwatch while the Forge docks. Once we are docked, I want..."
Starbase 2000, 10 minutes later
Ulysses strode into Ops with his command cloak billowing behind him. A plethora of alien species stared back at him or ignored him. There were only two dozen or in Starfleet black and silver, and they seemed to be in the middle of deals or drinks or both. The mood of Ops was more like a lounge than the nerve center for the entire systems defense. With a quick scan of the room, Ulysses found a likely suspect. He was a trim looking Command branch Captain well into middle age with a nasty looking scar on his cheek, and he seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in the two female aliens purring sweet nothings into his ears. Ulysses approached him directly and when he was standing directly in front of him, yet in the dim light it was hard to see him without activating his enhanced Borg vision. He put all the command snap into his voice that he could.
"Are you in charge of this rabble?!" The Captain took a few seconds to acknowledge Ulysses presence, and behind him, Ulysses heard the room go silent at his cold demand.
"I might be, what business is it of yours? I think that you better go back to your ship and stay there. You have no authority here little boy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave now." He said with an arrogant smile. Many had tried to take command of Starbase 2000 and make something out of it, but they had all succumbed to its rot eventually. And now with all other high ranking officers out of the way, Captain Styles was free to take charge of the station. His bailiwick might be a cesspool but it was by God HIS cesspool now and no uppity young snot was going to get his just deserts away from him. The young pup in front of him couldn't be any more than his early twenties. And if he couldn't be made to see reason, well then that was what he had the other personnel on the Ops deck for. They liked the recent changes in command and didn't have any desire to rock the boat. In fact, they had strong incentive to keep things as they were for as long as possible.
"I asked you a question Captain and I expect an answer." Ulysses continued, and his voice was like liquid nitrogen. The room behind him had gone dead silent and more than a few of the aliens were making their way discreetly out of the room. Many others were looking on at the growing confrontation with eyes eager to see what happened next.
A slight frown crossed Stiles' face. Couldn't this wet behind the ears pup take a hint. He was alone, yet not a hint of fear came from him. "I don't give a good God damn what you expect 'Captain'," Stiles put as much scorn into the title as humanly possible, "but since you can't take the hint..." Stiles pulled his phaser from its holster in a fluid motion that was over in an eye blink. From the soft scrapping sounds behind him and a few eager snickers, the rest of the Ops officers and enlisted personnel had pulled their own phasers as well. "Now unless you have an army squirreled away somewhere 'Captain', you better get out of here before you wind up in Sickbay... or the Morgue!"
"Well I guess I can't argue with you Captain." Ulysses said in a meek and mild tone, putting on his best scared looking expression. "It's evident who has the upper hand here." Stiles' grin grew enormously as Ulysses cautiously backed away half a step. Then Ulysses half shadowed face flashed a clearly predatory smile. "Isn't it Gunny?"
"Aye, It is indeed sir." A disembodied voice said from an empty space in Ops. Stiles grin disappeared instantly, as did those on the rest of the Ops staff. A split second later, 20 figures in full power armor rippled into sight as they decloaked around the Ops deck. All hefted grav guns filled with flechette rounds. And all were expert marksmen. At the spitting range of the Ops deck, if they fired things would get very messy very fast.