Chapter 41 - Strange Bedfellows
Imperial Palace, Moscow, Terra
"But your majesty, such a proposal." One of Jack's inner circle of bureau heads began only to be cut off.
"You will cease your whining willingly and immediately, Mr. Valtaine, or I will compel your silence through more forceful means." Emperor Chambers ground out, his voice cold as ice. "I have made my decision, and it is the course of action the Empire will take. Am I completely clear?"
Custer Valtaine, in charge of industry, closed his mouth with a snap, turning pale as fear forced blood from his face. He nodded nervously, his eyes darting up and down the table. None of the other bureau chiefs said a word and kept their gazes elsewhere, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible lest they draw the Emperors ire down on their own shoulders. All save Cherice Paxton, bureau chief of Internal Security and Public Information. Her oval face, framed in straight, orange/red locks was turned directly towards his. Her cold blue eyes were looking intently at his own, with a devilish smile picking up the corners of her mouth. Her expression caused him to blanch even more, for he knew full well that with a mere word from the Emperor she would execute him here and now.
"What was that Mr. Valtaine? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes sir, crystal clear."
"Good. Dispatch the proposition to the GA governments. Many of them have already been attacked by the GU. They should be as eager for a temporary suspension of active hostilities as we are." Jack said, his voice loosing some of its dangerous edge, but not all. It was never truly normal since he learned that his daughter was lost and in enemy hands somewhere, possibly even dead. "The GU is the primary threat, to all of us. They are intelligent enough to see this as clearly as we can. At the very least, even a partial cease fire will allow us to shift some of our fleets currently guarding against the GA to face the new threat Unity poses. And once the GU are dealt with, we will be free to resume unimpeded offensive operations against the GA powers. But only afterward." The Emperor stressed the last word. Hell, he thought, if Ben Sisko can make the Cardies stop fighting us, even for just a few days, a general ceasefire with all the GA powers isn't beyond the realm of possibility. And even if they do not accept, there is no harm in making the offer so long as it's done covertly with no public foreknowledge. Hell, the public doesn't even have to know at all, especially after we have been so effective whipping them into a frenzy against the GA powers. And once the GU is out of the way, I can deal with the GA and those traitorous bastards in the Orion Cartel. Pain clouded his eyes, but the flames of hatred near totally obscured it, overpowering it, using it as more fuel to fan the raging furnace in his soul higher, threatening to consume him. Only the faint glimmer of hope that his daughter might yet be found alive kept it at bay. They'll pay! For the pain they have caused me and mine, they'll damn well pay!!
ISCV Unity, Gamma/Alpha Quadrant boarder coreward
Peter O'tole forced his face into his carefully practiced mask of non- expression as he strode down the massive starship's proportionally massive corridors. He was surrounded by Pronhoulite and Korlivilar marines clad in spotless sky blue and white with gold trim power armor. But it was no less functional for all its immaculateness. They were his escort for the duration of his stay on the Galactic Unity's Flagship, there to ensure that he didn't do anything he wasn't supposed to. Not that he was stupid enough to attempt such a thing here deep in GU held space aboard their conquest fleet's. check that. their "Pacification Fleet's", Peter gave an mental roll-eyes as he shifted his thoughts to the ISC's designation, Flagship.
He still didn't know why his ISC benefactors had insisted that he come here, well into GU held space. All his previous dealings save his initial contact with the ISC had been via long ranged scrambled and encrypted com. The change, and the fact that it was the GU's Flagship he'd been ordered, was more than slightly unsettling.
The hallways were made of dark gray alloys and an obsidian black substance that felt like polished stone. Purple hued lighting shone down from the roof mounted fixtures, banishing any shadows that would otherwise inhabit the Unity's cavernous corridors. Their unnaturally large size also contributed to Peter's unease, making him feel like a Lilliputian from the Terran myth. But these corridors large size was perfectly functional, for as Peter and his entourage strode through a junction, a very tall Meskeen could be seen down it. He was conversing with a Terran."Human" he corrected himself with a mental sigh, and a Rovillian. With big brutes like that elder Meskeen roaming the GU's Flagship, he could easily see why they had settled on such unnaturally large corridors and rooms. It didn't make him feel much better, but at least his mind had an obvious reason for the need for massive corridors, even if it still couldn't accept them into his view of what was proper for a warship. Of course, on any ship designed to standard humanoid specifications, the elder Meskeen would be incapable of maneuvering through them without the aid of site to site transporters. He nearly snorted out loud in laughter as his mind produced the mental picture of one of the green skinned amphibians stuffed into a standard sized hallway like it was a Gentonian sausage casing.
One of his Terran lynx-like Korlivilar guards, perhaps slightly superior in esper ranking to the rest, or slightly less willing to swallow her feelings, half hissed. Her tufted ears folded down tight to head as it turned toward him, grass green felinoid eyes boring into him. Peter gave himself a mental kick even as he reinforced his anti-esper barriers, managing somehow not to break stride. This was no time to let his mental shields slip. Nearly every being on the ship, aside from the Dominion contingent that is, were espers of some level or other. He had a gut feeling that this was a critical juncture. It wouldn't do to mess it up because he slipped up on such a small thing as making a careless mental joke about one of the ISC's oldest and most powerful races. Fortunately for him, the Korlivilar took no further action, but Peter could almost sense the non-verbal interplay that his guards engaged in. The Korlivilar was using telepathy to inform the rest of his guards of whatever she had been able to pick up, he was certain of it. But none of the others took any overt action either, and Peter let out a mental sigh of relief behind his barriers.
The corridor continued on till it terminated in a set of massive doors, each intricately worked with a bass relief in bronze. The relief appeared to show a battle of some sort, with ranks of ISC member races in opposition to another group of aliens. But the other group was nebulous, their features absent. And the things the relief showed them doing to the ISC they had captured were. disturbing. But Peter only had a scant few seconds to study the artwork before the doors' swung open archaically to admit him and his escorts.
--- --- ---
Supreme Overlord Brakiel moved his massive bulk back and forth, pacing another useful habit he had acquired from the Humans, as he mulled over the distasteful choice he had been ordered to make. The Council of Five wisely only rarely interfered in actual Peace Forces operations after ordering them to action. But they had chosen to interfere now. And their order, however unpalatable he found it personally, was one he had no choice but to implement. The Council of Five's word was law, and if they told him to do something he found repulsive, he would execute their orders without question or comment. He let loose a slightly honking sigh.
"Come now Supreme Overlord," The female Founder's wry, slightly gravely voice said from her position near where he paced in the center of the room, "Although it is sometimes bothersome to use tools as low and base as this one, they can prove to be of some use from time to time."
Brakiel sighed again, but had to nod his assent. "I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like using them."
The massive doors swung open and he turned to watch the approaching procession with trepidation, for it was his lot to serve the Council of Five's wishes.
--- --- ---
Peter passed through the archaic swinging doors and into the presence of the largest Meskeen his limited experience had ever shown him. He stopped himself from doing a double take and forced his feet to continue their measured stride. The Meskeen was a titan, likely near six meters high, towering over him by a decidedly imposing amount. His faintly glistening green amphibian skin was backlit by the glowing green, purple, gold and silver displays that made up the walls of the otherwise Spartan chamber. The only other being present in the room was a female Changeling, but she was staying back, present but not an active participant of what was to come.
"Peter O'tole of the Orion Cartel," The ancient Meskeen began in his deep, resonating if slightly nasal voice, "I am Pacification Fleet Prime Supreme Overlord Brakiel. You are no doubt wondering as to why you have been called here for a face to face meeting with me rather than your customary handlers." He stared intently at Peter, his space black eyes boring into him from their frog like bumps on either side of his head. "The Council of Five, the political leaders of the ISC, have fresh orders for you."
Here it was, the moment of truth. "What might they be Supreme Overlord?"
"Your vessels are to report to the following rally points," Brakiel said, holding a PADD out to Peter, "where they will join up with Galactic Unity Fleet elements for offensive action against the Terran Empire and Grand Alliance forces."
The Orion's eyes went round as saucers. He had worked a lifetime to hide his true feelings from others, but even his extensive experience was insufficient to steel his expression to neutrality. Stark shock, far beyond simple surprise, was easily seen on his face. "You want my Pirates to join you in true offensive operations against heavy naval warships? Have you lost your mind? They're no warships, their raiders at best, relying on superior numbers and surprise to take down weak convoy escorts. You can't seriously expect them to take on an actual enemy fleet formation can you?!?"
"I'm sure that an appropriate use that best plays to their advantages can be found for them. In the mean time, I expect them to arrive within the month at the assigned rally points. All of them, for we know exactly how many you have." The slightly nasal voice resonated within Peter's very bones, with a definite snap of command born from long experience. "And should you decline to cooperate, there are certain parties that would take much delight in the information we have on you and your operations..." The massive amphibian's voice trailed off, allowing Peter to draw his own conclusions as to who those parties might be.
Peter's mouth closed with a click and his lips curled back into a snarl. "You bastard! If I give you all of my fleet, I'll be ruined. Section 31 is nipping at my heels as it is, searching for the Emperor's daughter that I handed off to YOU people. Starfleet has managed to scrape together stronger forces for patrols and given the Emperor's directive against my line of work, bribing them is becoming increasingly more difficult, to say nothing of the other means of getting my way. Hell, even the other cartels are threatening to re-stake their claims to space that's MINE! And you want me to pull all of my active duty ships to aid you?"
"Think for a moment just who gave you all those ships, all the power you currently possess and covet." Brakiel's voice was deadly calm. "We made you what you are in order to serve our wishes. You seem to have forgotten that. You have two choices. You can bring your fleet to the rally points before the end of the month, or you can ignore our orders. The choice is yours to make, but you really do not want the Galactic Unity as your enemy. not knowing what we know of your operations. That is all Peter O'tole, return to your den of criminals and decide."
Peter snarled, coiling to strike out, his brain awash in hate and terror. All that he had worked so hard to gain, everything, was slipping away from him like so much sand spilling out from between his fingers. The thought terrified him, that he would wind up back in the gutter where he had started from. It also angered him, throwing him into a blind rage against those that would dare use him so. His hate burned away caution, burned away rational thought, feeding off of his fear to make itself that much stronger. But even before he could move, the security detail was on him.
The saurian Pronhoulites were already in motion before he even did more than twitch. Their 'combat intuition', a sense that was on the borderline of precognition, told them almost exactly what Peter would do. Powerful mechanical arms wrapped around Peter, holding him tight, letting him do no more than squirm impotently.
"Take the animal back to his ship." Brakiel said over the incoherent ravings of Peter. "And remember my promise, Mr. O'tole. You know the consequences of choosing not to aid us after we have done so much for you."
Imperial Palace, Moscow, Terra
"But your majesty, such a proposal." One of Jack's inner circle of bureau heads began only to be cut off.
"You will cease your whining willingly and immediately, Mr. Valtaine, or I will compel your silence through more forceful means." Emperor Chambers ground out, his voice cold as ice. "I have made my decision, and it is the course of action the Empire will take. Am I completely clear?"
Custer Valtaine, in charge of industry, closed his mouth with a snap, turning pale as fear forced blood from his face. He nodded nervously, his eyes darting up and down the table. None of the other bureau chiefs said a word and kept their gazes elsewhere, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible lest they draw the Emperors ire down on their own shoulders. All save Cherice Paxton, bureau chief of Internal Security and Public Information. Her oval face, framed in straight, orange/red locks was turned directly towards his. Her cold blue eyes were looking intently at his own, with a devilish smile picking up the corners of her mouth. Her expression caused him to blanch even more, for he knew full well that with a mere word from the Emperor she would execute him here and now.
"What was that Mr. Valtaine? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes sir, crystal clear."
"Good. Dispatch the proposition to the GA governments. Many of them have already been attacked by the GU. They should be as eager for a temporary suspension of active hostilities as we are." Jack said, his voice loosing some of its dangerous edge, but not all. It was never truly normal since he learned that his daughter was lost and in enemy hands somewhere, possibly even dead. "The GU is the primary threat, to all of us. They are intelligent enough to see this as clearly as we can. At the very least, even a partial cease fire will allow us to shift some of our fleets currently guarding against the GA to face the new threat Unity poses. And once the GU are dealt with, we will be free to resume unimpeded offensive operations against the GA powers. But only afterward." The Emperor stressed the last word. Hell, he thought, if Ben Sisko can make the Cardies stop fighting us, even for just a few days, a general ceasefire with all the GA powers isn't beyond the realm of possibility. And even if they do not accept, there is no harm in making the offer so long as it's done covertly with no public foreknowledge. Hell, the public doesn't even have to know at all, especially after we have been so effective whipping them into a frenzy against the GA powers. And once the GU is out of the way, I can deal with the GA and those traitorous bastards in the Orion Cartel. Pain clouded his eyes, but the flames of hatred near totally obscured it, overpowering it, using it as more fuel to fan the raging furnace in his soul higher, threatening to consume him. Only the faint glimmer of hope that his daughter might yet be found alive kept it at bay. They'll pay! For the pain they have caused me and mine, they'll damn well pay!!
ISCV Unity, Gamma/Alpha Quadrant boarder coreward
Peter O'tole forced his face into his carefully practiced mask of non- expression as he strode down the massive starship's proportionally massive corridors. He was surrounded by Pronhoulite and Korlivilar marines clad in spotless sky blue and white with gold trim power armor. But it was no less functional for all its immaculateness. They were his escort for the duration of his stay on the Galactic Unity's Flagship, there to ensure that he didn't do anything he wasn't supposed to. Not that he was stupid enough to attempt such a thing here deep in GU held space aboard their conquest fleet's. check that. their "Pacification Fleet's", Peter gave an mental roll-eyes as he shifted his thoughts to the ISC's designation, Flagship.
He still didn't know why his ISC benefactors had insisted that he come here, well into GU held space. All his previous dealings save his initial contact with the ISC had been via long ranged scrambled and encrypted com. The change, and the fact that it was the GU's Flagship he'd been ordered, was more than slightly unsettling.
The hallways were made of dark gray alloys and an obsidian black substance that felt like polished stone. Purple hued lighting shone down from the roof mounted fixtures, banishing any shadows that would otherwise inhabit the Unity's cavernous corridors. Their unnaturally large size also contributed to Peter's unease, making him feel like a Lilliputian from the Terran myth. But these corridors large size was perfectly functional, for as Peter and his entourage strode through a junction, a very tall Meskeen could be seen down it. He was conversing with a Terran."Human" he corrected himself with a mental sigh, and a Rovillian. With big brutes like that elder Meskeen roaming the GU's Flagship, he could easily see why they had settled on such unnaturally large corridors and rooms. It didn't make him feel much better, but at least his mind had an obvious reason for the need for massive corridors, even if it still couldn't accept them into his view of what was proper for a warship. Of course, on any ship designed to standard humanoid specifications, the elder Meskeen would be incapable of maneuvering through them without the aid of site to site transporters. He nearly snorted out loud in laughter as his mind produced the mental picture of one of the green skinned amphibians stuffed into a standard sized hallway like it was a Gentonian sausage casing.
One of his Terran lynx-like Korlivilar guards, perhaps slightly superior in esper ranking to the rest, or slightly less willing to swallow her feelings, half hissed. Her tufted ears folded down tight to head as it turned toward him, grass green felinoid eyes boring into him. Peter gave himself a mental kick even as he reinforced his anti-esper barriers, managing somehow not to break stride. This was no time to let his mental shields slip. Nearly every being on the ship, aside from the Dominion contingent that is, were espers of some level or other. He had a gut feeling that this was a critical juncture. It wouldn't do to mess it up because he slipped up on such a small thing as making a careless mental joke about one of the ISC's oldest and most powerful races. Fortunately for him, the Korlivilar took no further action, but Peter could almost sense the non-verbal interplay that his guards engaged in. The Korlivilar was using telepathy to inform the rest of his guards of whatever she had been able to pick up, he was certain of it. But none of the others took any overt action either, and Peter let out a mental sigh of relief behind his barriers.
The corridor continued on till it terminated in a set of massive doors, each intricately worked with a bass relief in bronze. The relief appeared to show a battle of some sort, with ranks of ISC member races in opposition to another group of aliens. But the other group was nebulous, their features absent. And the things the relief showed them doing to the ISC they had captured were. disturbing. But Peter only had a scant few seconds to study the artwork before the doors' swung open archaically to admit him and his escorts.
--- --- ---
Supreme Overlord Brakiel moved his massive bulk back and forth, pacing another useful habit he had acquired from the Humans, as he mulled over the distasteful choice he had been ordered to make. The Council of Five wisely only rarely interfered in actual Peace Forces operations after ordering them to action. But they had chosen to interfere now. And their order, however unpalatable he found it personally, was one he had no choice but to implement. The Council of Five's word was law, and if they told him to do something he found repulsive, he would execute their orders without question or comment. He let loose a slightly honking sigh.
"Come now Supreme Overlord," The female Founder's wry, slightly gravely voice said from her position near where he paced in the center of the room, "Although it is sometimes bothersome to use tools as low and base as this one, they can prove to be of some use from time to time."
Brakiel sighed again, but had to nod his assent. "I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like using them."
The massive doors swung open and he turned to watch the approaching procession with trepidation, for it was his lot to serve the Council of Five's wishes.
--- --- ---
Peter passed through the archaic swinging doors and into the presence of the largest Meskeen his limited experience had ever shown him. He stopped himself from doing a double take and forced his feet to continue their measured stride. The Meskeen was a titan, likely near six meters high, towering over him by a decidedly imposing amount. His faintly glistening green amphibian skin was backlit by the glowing green, purple, gold and silver displays that made up the walls of the otherwise Spartan chamber. The only other being present in the room was a female Changeling, but she was staying back, present but not an active participant of what was to come.
"Peter O'tole of the Orion Cartel," The ancient Meskeen began in his deep, resonating if slightly nasal voice, "I am Pacification Fleet Prime Supreme Overlord Brakiel. You are no doubt wondering as to why you have been called here for a face to face meeting with me rather than your customary handlers." He stared intently at Peter, his space black eyes boring into him from their frog like bumps on either side of his head. "The Council of Five, the political leaders of the ISC, have fresh orders for you."
Here it was, the moment of truth. "What might they be Supreme Overlord?"
"Your vessels are to report to the following rally points," Brakiel said, holding a PADD out to Peter, "where they will join up with Galactic Unity Fleet elements for offensive action against the Terran Empire and Grand Alliance forces."
The Orion's eyes went round as saucers. He had worked a lifetime to hide his true feelings from others, but even his extensive experience was insufficient to steel his expression to neutrality. Stark shock, far beyond simple surprise, was easily seen on his face. "You want my Pirates to join you in true offensive operations against heavy naval warships? Have you lost your mind? They're no warships, their raiders at best, relying on superior numbers and surprise to take down weak convoy escorts. You can't seriously expect them to take on an actual enemy fleet formation can you?!?"
"I'm sure that an appropriate use that best plays to their advantages can be found for them. In the mean time, I expect them to arrive within the month at the assigned rally points. All of them, for we know exactly how many you have." The slightly nasal voice resonated within Peter's very bones, with a definite snap of command born from long experience. "And should you decline to cooperate, there are certain parties that would take much delight in the information we have on you and your operations..." The massive amphibian's voice trailed off, allowing Peter to draw his own conclusions as to who those parties might be.
Peter's mouth closed with a click and his lips curled back into a snarl. "You bastard! If I give you all of my fleet, I'll be ruined. Section 31 is nipping at my heels as it is, searching for the Emperor's daughter that I handed off to YOU people. Starfleet has managed to scrape together stronger forces for patrols and given the Emperor's directive against my line of work, bribing them is becoming increasingly more difficult, to say nothing of the other means of getting my way. Hell, even the other cartels are threatening to re-stake their claims to space that's MINE! And you want me to pull all of my active duty ships to aid you?"
"Think for a moment just who gave you all those ships, all the power you currently possess and covet." Brakiel's voice was deadly calm. "We made you what you are in order to serve our wishes. You seem to have forgotten that. You have two choices. You can bring your fleet to the rally points before the end of the month, or you can ignore our orders. The choice is yours to make, but you really do not want the Galactic Unity as your enemy. not knowing what we know of your operations. That is all Peter O'tole, return to your den of criminals and decide."
Peter snarled, coiling to strike out, his brain awash in hate and terror. All that he had worked so hard to gain, everything, was slipping away from him like so much sand spilling out from between his fingers. The thought terrified him, that he would wind up back in the gutter where he had started from. It also angered him, throwing him into a blind rage against those that would dare use him so. His hate burned away caution, burned away rational thought, feeding off of his fear to make itself that much stronger. But even before he could move, the security detail was on him.
The saurian Pronhoulites were already in motion before he even did more than twitch. Their 'combat intuition', a sense that was on the borderline of precognition, told them almost exactly what Peter would do. Powerful mechanical arms wrapped around Peter, holding him tight, letting him do no more than squirm impotently.
"Take the animal back to his ship." Brakiel said over the incoherent ravings of Peter. "And remember my promise, Mr. O'tole. You know the consequences of choosing not to aid us after we have done so much for you."