The Fog of War
Seven
Jean-Luc had to admit that it was nice having Jack around again. He was quick with a smile and a joke. Between Crusher and Riker, he was having a hard time maintaining discipline on the bridge. He had limited Jack's visits to no more than 15 minutes, and only once per shift. But after shift, the trio had practically torn down the walls of the Captain's quarters.
It inevitably brought back memories of earlier times, when Walker Keel had been the third man. They'd lost Walker a few years ago. He had been on patrol in what was then a hotly contested sector. After taking out two Warbirds and a Romulan scout, the Defiant had been spectacularly torn apart by an uncontrolled warp core breech. Walker had taken a Bird of Prey with him. The loss had driven the Romulans out of the system for months, allowing the Federation to reclaim much needed space and time. Crusher and Picard were both unspeakably proud of their fallen friend.
Now only a day away from Starbase, Picard was curious to know how Jack would be reassigned. He couldn't say he wasn't anxious for his friend. The tide of war was turning, and the fall of the Federation now a very plausible reality. Starfleet had initially been outraged that the Enterprise had overridden their orders for ground troops to hold position on Aeron V. But after learning of the approach of additional Romulan troops and the final casualty assessment, they had backed off. Picard had been quite passionate but coldly articulate and forceful in his dealings with the Admiralty, who often lost sight of what it meant to be on the ground. Troops had become numbers to them, measured only by wins and losses.
Almost on cue, his comm. screen blipped to life with an incoming call from Admiral Nechayev. Picard punched the keyboard and Alanna's severe countenance filled his ready room.
"Good afternoon, Captain." Her thin smile was cold, and clearly perfunctory. Worry lines etched the edges of her eyes and mouth.
"Good afternoon, Admiral. What can I do for you?" Picard brought a cup of Earl Grey to his lips.
"We're about to send a set of reassignments to the Enterprise. I'm calling to forestall any…. resistance on your end." Her brow lifted and her expression became fixed.
Picard slowly brought his cup and saucer back to his desk. His eyebrow arched. "Resistance?"
"We're shuffling some of your senior staff." Nechayev paused, considering the phrasing of her words. "It's no secret Jean-Luc. Things are growing dire for the Federation. We are now faced with impossible choices." She paused again as an aid appeared at her side and handed her a padd. She looked it over, frowning. When she looked up, her face was even more somber. "Reports from the Devron system. Devron III is falling to the Romulans. They have diverted most of their troops from the now uncontested Aeron V. The field Commander reports that we may not last the month there. Which makes this news harder to deliver."
Picard's own expression was now unmistakably grave, his hazel eyes a dark shade of granite. "Please continue, Admiral."
Nechayev met his steady gaze. "Commander Riker will be assigned the Challenger and sent immediately to the Devron system. His job will be to give aid to the ground troops on Devron III. He'll work with the Columbia to interrupt the Romulan supply lines, hopefully giving us an advantage."
Picard was sick. It was quite likely a suicide mission. "And this is the final decision from Starfleet Command?"
"It is. I'm sorry Jean-Luc, we have little choice." She remained cold, removed from the news she delivered.
"But this is madness, Alanna. If things have really gotten this bad, then it's time to negotiate a surrender. We're sending good people to their death – and a useless one at that." Picard's voice rose in volume, and he quickly checked himself, touching the console, his tea, and finally running a hand over his smooth head in an effort to regain control.
Nechayev leaned forward, Picard's emotion engaging her in the now heated discussion. "Don't you think we know this Jean-Luc?" She stopped, took a deep breath, and glanced around. She sat upright in her chair and lowered her voice. "This is off the record now, Captain. I'm telling you this because I respect you, and I trust your discretion."
Picard accepted the offering for what it was and nodded his agreement, urging her to continue.
"One month ago the President of the Federation extended an offer of surrender to the Romulan Chancellor. He sent what we felt to be rather generous terms, which maximized loss of territory but minimized loss of life. It was flatly refused." Nechayev waited in silence for response.
"And what were the terms of the counter offer?" Picard was horrified. The Federation had offered surrender a month ago? Clearly things were worse than even he believed.
Alanna nervously fingered a padd at her right hand before looking levelly at Picard over the light years. "There were no terms. The Romulans are not interested in negotiating a surrender."
"Commander Riker, you are to report to the Challenger as soon as we reach Starbase 311. Tasha Yar will be promoted to Commander and will joining you as First Officer. Commander Crusher, you will become the new First Officer on the Enterprise. Lieutenant Worf will be promoted to Chief of Security." Picard looked up from his padd to the assembled senior officers, all of whom were affected by the reassignments. Junior officers would be briefed by their COs at subsequent meetings.
"Doctor Stewart, you will return to your former position at Starfleet Command." Knowing what was to come, the Fleet had chosen to retract all their most senior officers from field posts. Picard himself had turned down a promotion to Admiral and a reassignment to Earth on his call from Admiral Nechayev. It was to be the last bastion for the Federation, and would be defended in what would surely be the final battle, at all costs. "Doctor Howard, you will assume the CMO position on the Enterprise, which will patrol the farthest reaches of sector 001. Any questions?" Picard surveyed the quiet room as the officers took in the changes.
Riker was the first to speak. He understood his assignment, and he would fulfill his orders. But damned if he wasn't angry. "Do they really think they can hold Devron with two Galaxy class ships and nothing else?"
Picard held up a hand, warding off Riker's justified anger. "There is no choice, Will. We just lost another ship in the Onari system. We are running out of options."
The meaning behind the words was lost on no one in the room. Each began to count their own blessings and assess their own lives – which seemed to grow ever shorter. Picard had not disclosed any of the details of his conversation with the Admiral. But these were Starfleet's finest – and they could read between the lines.
Seeing that his staff had little energy or will left to speak, he chose to let them off the hook. "Set up briefings for your junior officers no later than 0900 hours. We'll be reaching Starbase 311 at approximately 1500 hours. Dismissed."
The group rose slowly, each silent and reflective. Crusher and Riker both approached Picard, as Stewart and Howard filed out, exchanging a hushed conversation about the transfer of command in sickbay.
"Looks like we're back at it, Johnny." Crusher's own tone was subdued. He looked over at Riker. "I don't want it like this, Will."
Riker's blue eyes were cold and fierce. He knew what he was in for. But he wasn't angry at Crusher. He knew that Jack and Picard would fight for him until the last. "It's alright, Jack. Tasha and I will give them a run for their money." Will attempted his trademark cocky grin, but it lacked any real enthusiasm.
He turned to Picard. "I'd also like to request a promotion and transfer of Lieutenants Mikulski and Timor. They're the best, and I think we're going to need them." It was a hard thing to ask – it was almost a death sentence. But he knew there was a good chance they might not stay on the Enterprise either. Hell, the way things were, there was no guarantee of anything.
Picard grasped Will's shoulder. "I'll see what I can do, Number One. But I don't think it will be a problem." He smiled reassuringly.
The three stood quietly as the stars whirred past. Jack grinned, and clapped both of the other men on the back. "It's a long way to Tipperary, boys."
Onboard the Warbird Menak, orbiting Aeron V, a Romulan Lieutenant walked slowly into the dimly lit chamber of Commander R'Nau. "Commander?" He took another step forward toward the desk, her chair turned to him. "Commander?"
Hesitantly, he approached the chair and turned it to face him. As he did so the lifeless body of R'Nau slumped over and fell into his arms. Remarkably, it little resembled the Commander who had dismissed him only hours previous. The features were similar, but the face was etched with age lines, and her hair was now standard length and almost white.
Horrified, he shoved the body back into the chair and rushed back out on to the command bridge, calling for help as he did so.
Picard sat at the center of the bridge of the Enterprise, his new senior staff at each of their positions. Jack was seated at his right, and Doctor Howard his left. In front of him Data sat at opps. Behind him at the aft stations were Lieutenants Worf and LaForge. It was a fine crew, possibly the best in the Federation. There were to be the last barricade between the onslaught of the Romulan armada and Earth. Their destiny was uncertain. It may take months, maybe even a year before the Romulans advanced this far. But without a drastic change – without a miracle, it was simply a matter of time.
He and Commander Riker had said a heavy goodbye onboard the Challenger. Picard had escorted Riker over. Though resigned to his fate, Riker had nonetheless been proud of his new command and his crew. It had been Picard's honor to preside over the transfer of command.
Now headed back at warp three to sector 001, they would provide much needed supplies and aid to several neglected Federation colonies on the way. Supply ships were few and far between, and several settlements had been left without support for months at a time. He hoped that none had suffered any serious crises in the mean time.
He looked over to Jack. It was good to have him onboard. It lightened Picard's heavy spirits. He surreptitiously turned his glance to Beverly Howard. Though preoccupied with thoughts of war, he found himself distracted by the compelling young physician. Guilt washed over him and he immediately returned his gaze to his control console.
One thing was certain – there would be plenty of adventure in store for the Enterprise.
End
Echoes of Destiny
Episode One
The Fog of War
