Chapter Twenty-Seven Part B

"The One Side of the Coin"

(The Armageddon Conflict :) Part 3

"Crisis Point"

Colonial Cobras- Sol system:

A group of Starfuries rushed by two Colonial fighter-bombers on their way to dock with a nearby Nova. Several had actually slowed down a bit to get a closer view of the two very large, delta-wing craft as they passed by.

Both Cobras were on slow maneuvers scanning nearby space for any signs of human life. There were lots of escape boats floating around and a surprising number of free-floaters-pilots whose fighters had been damaged or destroyed. Those ejected pilots had a limited amount of air left, and many were wounded. As such those men and women were designated priority pickups. Several had been picked up and beamed over to the nearest EA vessel, much to the consternation of the crews. Each Cobra had been retrofitted with one transporter pad, and the devices were being put to good use. In spite of the good will being generated by more than grateful pilots, the two Colonial commanders were anything but relaxed.

"You're still on report, Lieutenant," Boxey hissed through the comms system. "If you're nice and follow orders I may allow you a little bit of freedom in about two weeks. Until then you will be confined to quarters."

"Sir," said a very respectful, very chastened Joliet. "I am aware of my error and I will never disobey the orders of my commanding officer."

"You could have gotten yourself and your crew killed," he continued on ignoring his young subordinates supplications. "I have no intentions of explaining to my father and grandfather and Sheba and Starbuck and the dozens of others why you got yourselves killed because you felt the need to pursue some stupid stunt. You know better. Therefore, unless it's militarily related, don't even talk to me until I tell you to."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm getting life signs from that derelict over their-three microns from our position. Let's swing over there and take a look."

"By your command, Sir."

"Joliet, you are really pushing it," he growled.

-----

Christov was actively sweating now. Clark was allowing his emotions to interfere with his logic. If he provoked these people further, there was no telling where this might end. This was a foolish, unprofitable gambit. Earth desperately needed assistance from everywhere and everyone. Even he could see that. Only a fool couldn't see that humanity was on the brink of extermination-again. But Clark didn't care and as loyal as Christov was, where did he draw the line for himself? The Admiral decided to respond and it drew him back into the conversation.

"Before this goes any further, "Janeway was saying, "I would like to show you what you're committing your forces to. Lieutenant Sondrar would you describe Voyager?"

"With pleasure," the blue alien female said. She slowly faced a contemptuous but a nevertheless very curious Clark. "The USS Voyager is a Sovereign class starship, the newest and most powerful currently developed by the United Federation of Planets. Our ship is a Sovereign variant, twenty meters larger, designed for detailed exploration and the testing new technologies in addition to being a warship. This particular vessel has the newest weaponry that Starfleet has to offer with the capability to engage and defeat simultaneous attacks from three Cylon Devastator-class assault ships and defend itself against an Extreme-class Cylon Basestar. A type-nine pulse-phaser array is its main short-ranged beam weapon, supported by the newer, more destructive iso-magnetic disintegrator cannons. There are other weapons' systems but you wouldn't understand my explanation," she added sarcastically to a fascinated but slightly nervous Clark and company. Both antennae curled slightly, then pointed directly at the President.

"Voyager will automatically detect any weapons lock-on and 'Threat-Intelligence' will protect the ship. Combat sensors will lock on the threat and it will be eliminated if the Captain chooses to do so. Voyager can lock onto and fire on thirty-two independent targets simultaneously with an array of weaponry. If you somehow manage to achieve first strike, your ships would not survive our retaliatory response. Federation technology has been developed over three hundred years and is still continuing. This simply means that at your current level technical understanding," she said with obvious contempt, "would barely allow you to scratch the surface in terms of understanding our ship. Contrary to your beliefs, it would take decades for your scientists to understand and exploit the technologies on Voyager. If we went to war with your people, it would be a very short one. The Bajoran militia could crush your fleet by themselves," she finished. She was treating them like children and they knew it. The Lieutenant's entire demeanor dripped of sarcasm and scorn.

By the way Clark was looking at the woman, Christov was sure that the President had chosen the first person he would kill. He felt intimidated and that was not something he took well these days.

"All that sounds impressive," he said to the blue alien female. "But as long as I have you, I have control of your ship. Your Captain will hesitate, not wanting to fire on the official ship of the Head-of-State. And if I press this," he announced, slowly brushing his finger over a rather large green button, "every vessel will immediately fire on your ship. Superior technology or not, all of that destructive power will wreck your starship before it has a chance to defend itself." His head turned from the smoldering lieutenant to the Admiral. "I am the one in control here. Have them surrender peacefully. Save your ship and your crew."

Janeway shook her head slowly. "How did you become President?"

"We needed someone with a vision. I had that vision."

"You must have a rather limited 'vision'," the one called Tuvok responded. "Your actions are proving that, even now."

The President smiled coldly and Christov shivered. "The time for vision is over," he heard the President say. "The time for action is now." His fingers moved towards the button.

"Sir," Christov heard himself say, "please don't."

"You have less control than you believe," Janeway said.

"All or nothing," Clark countered.

"It won't work."

"Let's see."

He pressed the button.

Click.

Nothing happened.

Surprised and angry he pressed it several times. There should have been a responding beep. Surprised, he glared at Janeway. "What have you done?"

"Simply showing you that in this case, control is an illusion," the Admiral said. "You see, we're not on your ship." The Admiral folded her arms and her lip curled into a half smirk.

"You're on mine."

---

Earth's solar system began filling with EF ships of all descriptions. Both Loyalists and Resistance ships cruised past one another, weapons hot. Tension was extremely high but so far there had been no shooting. Colonel Paul Griffin felt encouraged by that fact. Too much had just happened and no one wanted to start fighting after an attack of this magnitude. The Evanston had just transitioned in the area and were now vectoring towards him.

"Captain Drake," he said quickly. "Pick us up."

The Omega slowed and picked the lifeboat carry the Colonel and several other crewmembers. A few minutes later, both men stood on the bridge surveying the carnage.

"Our scanners picked up the Enterprise," Drake said. "It's in Earth orbit now. Power configuration's different now."

"That's not Enterprise, Captain. "It's another Federation ship called Voyager."

Drake stifled a curse. "What's it doing here? They lied to us," and to his surprise, he felt somewhat disappointed.

Griffin shook his head. "We don't know all of the facts yet. But they helped stop the Drakh."

"What do you think Clark-"

It was another one of those questions that would never be completed as a gold channel combat alert was issued taking both men and their crew by shock.

Captain Jake Thompson, Clark's right hand man, had ordered all Earth Alliance ships to advance on and, on his command disable or destroy Voyager.

Drake looked at Griffin. There was mixture of confusion and more than a hint of fear on his face. The Colonel had gone pale.

Now what?

-----

Captain Leonard Anderson thought the exact same thing as his exec confirmed the order. The Charon had been nearly torn to pieces by Drakh fire. A full third of his crew was dead or injured and now they were preparing to attack a vessel that had came to their aid? And what about Earth? The Drakh had did something, sensors had picked up that much. What about his wife and daughter? What had Voyager done in order for him to start another war on the very heels of this disaster?

"Transmit this, Lieutenant. EA destroyer Charon is unable to comply with order. The ship has been damaged and is not combat worthy." Anderson hesitated for a second, then added, "request a tow to the nearest recovery center."

"Acknowledged Charon. You're sixteenth in line."

The Captain breathed a sigh of relief. Now he had to find out what was going on.

-----

Frightened, his emotions took over. "Shoot," Clark howled, pointing at the Starfleet officers. His four guards immediately attacked. All of the weapons misfired. Undaunted, the guards attacked the Federation officers-and stumbled through holographic images.

"No-" Clark whispered. He turned and ran towards the door while his security guards were still trying to understand what was happening. "This can't be!" They were holograms. But they looked and acted so completely, so stunningly lifelike. He grabbed the door handle twisting the access handle. The door didn't budge. He was completely trapped.

"President Clark," a disembodied voice said. "I am disappointed at your actions."

"Release me."

"I don't have time for your petty political squabbles," Janeway's voiced boomed. "Earth's very existence stands in the balance and you are attempting to begin another war. You need to understand what you're dealing with."

Arrogant- Clark stood defiant when suddenly everything went black. From his left, there was a horrified gasp. The air around him had suddenly become ice cold and he felt nauseated. He found himself suddenly tumbling amidst a sea of stars. His security floated with him in the void, hysterical and terrified, desperately blowing the air from their lungs and covering their eyes with their hands to keep the from either freezing or exploding. Earth was in front of him floating in the void. The Federation whore had spaced him.

He screamed, adding his voice to others.

---

A few moments later, Clark and the others realized that they weren't going to die. He could still breath. The entire experience was a terrifyingly effective trick. It had to be the holodeck that he'd heard so much about. But as the mind understood it, the rest of his body refused to accept it. It shivered with the expectation of death.

Again he heard what was becoming a truly hated voice.

"Prepare yourselves."

There was a horrifying sensation of rushing through the vastness of space unaided until he reached a dark, foreboding planet. He knew what planet it was. Z'ha'dum. For an instant, he thought he and his people would slam into the planet (that really wasn't there or so his mind kept telling him), but then their direction curved and helplessly they were pushed along past the planet. There was a sensation of movement. Stars moved; becoming blurs. G forces ripped at his body; a circle of radiance surrounding him.

All motion ceased, the group finding themselves in front of an enormous artifact. It glowed with a power that he felt penetrate his very bone. Clark understood this to be an illusion, however his body was completely on autopilot. All he could do was watch as alien ships like nothing he or EarthForce had ever seen continually exited the artifact. The ships had power-sources shaped like huge energy bubbles attached to their rear. The smaller ships reminded him of ocean squid of different sizes. All of them looked supremely menacing. One of those smaller ships approached him, its tentacles beginning to glow. He could see some indescribable alien inside the cockpit, looking directly at him. Clark's eyes budged as one of the ships came close enough to touch him...

The imaged changed and they found themselves in a cubical room. Exhausted, nearly frozen and in no condition to resist, Clark and his people slumped to the floor.

-----

"Captain Thompson is hailing us, Captain."

"Open."

"What you have done will be considered as an act of war! Return the President and our people or you will force us to attack with everything at our disposal!" He was livid and embarrassed that the people under his responsibility had been so completely and easily compromised. The moment he had left, the President and his staff had been transported to Voyager. And his people hadn't even noticed it until after the fact. Evidently the need for a power-source to lock on to was a ruse. And President Clark's orders were clear. "You have ten minutes."

Chakotay studied the man as if he were a microbe. "President Clark intended to kidnap Admiral Janeway and others of our party. That," he said, "can be interpreted as an act of war, Captain Clark."

"Ten minutes," Thompson repeated.

The channel closed abruptly.

"Red alert," he ordered. "Begin targeting solutions."

"Aye, Sir," Worf announced coldly.

-----

Clark and the others were just getting up when they turned toward one of the walls behind them. There had been a gentle whirling sound, which caught their attention. It was the opening of a door. Five people walked in. Three of them he knew, and two security guards carrying very large rifles of some type accompanied them.

"Please don't worry," the Admiral said looking at the puddles on the floor. "The ship cleans itself."

Clark speared her with a look of raw, unfettered hatred. "Release me," he stammered.

"No," she answered. "You need to understand that we aren't the enemy here. The ones you should be worrying about are at the gates ready to break the door down, trying to get in. This little demonstration, while a bit dramatic, illustrates just how precarious your situation is. We've offered medical help and you've refused. We've helped you in your fight against the Drakh and you've tried to kidnap us for our technology," she growled. "Your fleet has just survived a devastating attack, thousands have been killed and injured and now you're prepare to begin the fighting again simply to sooth your pride."

"Who do you think you are!" Clark screamed at her. "You have no right telling me what I can or can't do, human traitor! You will release me or every ship from Earth orbit to Mars will fire and destroy your precious ship." He stood defiantly now, heedless of how he was feeling. "Your so-called Federation is overrated and I will make sure that I remove your influence from our part of space."

"Hysterics are unnecessary Mr. President. We don't care to be here any longer than we have to," Janeway countered. "And kidnapping you is just as wrong as what you've tried to do to us. So we will return you to your people."

Clark couldn't believe it. Were they naïve to send him back? Already he was calculating his next move.

Then Janeway dropped the other shoe. "We will transport you to Earth. There you can lead your people in their quest to find a cure for the plague that's surely coming."

"No! I demand you send me back to EarthForce One! I demand-"

"Your demands are irrelevant," she said smiling at some personal joke that only she knew. "And in this case, resistance is futile. She touched her com-link. "Energize."

The President and his guards were sent screaming back to Earth. Clark found himself in the center of Earth Alliance headquarters. His screams echoed throughout the hallways.

Christov and a couple of others weren't with him, but right now he could have cared less about where they were. He was contaminated. He was poisoned. All of his carefully laid plans were dust now. He was doomed. The government officials that he'd abandoned on Earth would be coming for him soon. But he swore that he would take that woman with him. Rushing to his Presidential chambers he opened gold channel. "Captain Thompson," he hissed. Destroy that ship by any means possible. Now."

"Sir, Mr. Christov and some of the others just- - just 'appeared on the ship." What…"

"You have your orders ," Clark screamed. "As commander and Chief I order you to destroy that ship now!" A moment later, he terminated the link.

He could hear them. 'They' were coming, lots of them; to take him away. It wouldn't end like this. If he couldn't have it no one would. He began punching in codes.

-----

TBC in Part 4