Chapter Eighteen: Of Tales and Heroes
Mission
With the Alliance pushing the Romulan front even further back the Romulans scramble together a cloaked fleet in an isolated system in the hopes of using it to end the Alliance onslaught. Breen intelligence has picked this fleet up however and Zelbreghn is placed back in command by a well respected general with a daring plan.
Mission Date:
245th day in the 2369th of Molar
As he stood there in the turbolift Zelbreghn wondered what his latest summons was for. It probably was nothing more than yet another 'debriefing' session with one of the higher ups. At this thought the Breen soldier could do nothing but give a sigh of disapproval. Hadn't command realized that he had told them everything he could about his time in the Romulan prison camps? Didn't they realize that, as a loyal soldier and a man who hated the Romulans, he was eager to relate his experiences to them in the hope that something useful could be gleaned and used against his former captors? Despite giving a full and painstakingly detailed account of his time in Romulan custody his superiors had brought him in time and time again and asked the same list of questions over and over. This had been the pattern his life had taken ever since he had returned home from the Narendra Conference. For a moment he likened their constant questioning of him to that he faced from the Romulans, a thought he instantly regretted. These were his people after all, and thusly deserved his devotion.
Slowly, the lift came to a stop. Glancing over to a readout set into the wall he saw that he had arrived at his destination. After a moment the doors slid open and revealed to him a very busy scene. In every direction he could see his fellow soldiers marching in this and that direction. Shrugging it off as simple drill he stepped off of the lift and was about to push everything aside when he noticed something odd about the soldiers. Each one of them was fully dressed in their fatigues; helmets worn and all. Noticing this he reminded himself on how he too was wearing his helmet, but that was due to the fact that he didn't want to be caught casually carrying it around. Could this also explain the reason why everyone else was helmeted? No, that didn't quite fit what he saw. On station very few soldiers chose to wear their helmets. Unless...the station was about to come under attack! The thought sent both shock and excitement through Zelbreghn's body. He had longed to rejoin the fight against the Romulans for several months now. Being so deep in Breen space though how could the Romulans launch an attack on them? Instantly his trained solider mentality kicked in and decided that it was best to push all speculation aside and simply go forward on his orders.
Weaving his way through the crowd he began to read the name plates beside each office that he passed. Being on the second deck of the station meant that each of the sector's top brass had their own little private space here. This deck Zelbreghn had come to know very well since his posting here nearly three months ago. It had been on this deck that most of his time and words had been spent answering the barrage of questions thrust upon him. Despite all of his time spent here the area's uniform design led him to occasionally getting lost. The bustle and relentless sea of bodies didn't help him to lose his disconcerting feeling either. With his fellow soldiers all around him it took several more minutes to find his destination than should have. Pausing for a moment he read over the name plate one last time to make sure he was indeed at the right office. After confirming that General Rakln's name was on it he reached over and tapped the small panel in front of him.
"Yes?" came the general's rough voice through the panel's comms unit.
"It's Commander Zelbreghn, sir. I was ordered to report here."
"Of course. Come right in."
Zelbreghn stood still for a moment, not quite sure how to react to the cordial tone he heard underlying the general's words. The officers he had dealt with so far had always been short sided and noticeably standoffish. This radical difference that he sensed left him to wonder how to present himself in this situation. Giving only a brief second to mull it over he stepped forward so that the doors automatically slid open and then behind him upon entering the room.
The first thing Zelbreghn did upon entering the general's office was to sweep his gaze and take in every facet the room offered. This seemed to be his standard procedure whenever he entered a new area; a quality that he believed made him a better commander. Instantly Zelbreghn could tell that this general was a man of culture as several articles had been placed around the room. His gaze fell upon a painting of the Nercht'k Falls from their homeworld and he found himself unable to pull away from it until the general spoke.
"Ah, Commander Zelbreghn," Rakln said as he looked up from some report that he had been mulling over only moments before. "I'm glad that you could take the time to come up here and talk with me. If you would please," he added as he gestured to a chair that sat directly opposite him.
Breaking away from the magnificent painting that had entranced him, Zelbreghn turned his gaze to look upon the general and the chair that was offered him. Promptly he took the hint and maneuvered his way to the chair and sat down. Looking across the desk he saw that Rakln was also wearing the standard issue uniform, only his had been adorned with several glittering medals. This led Zelbreghn's mind to further speculation, which again was quickly pushed aside.
Leaning back in his chair Rakln sized up the man before him. While he could only guess at the expression the soldier hid under his helmet, he could tell by his posture exactly what was on his mind. The confusion he could feel come from Zelbreghn would be put to ease soon enough, but first he felt the need to get to know this well spoken of officer. "Would you like something to drink?" Rakln casually offered as he gestured towards a nearby replicator.
"No thank you, sir." Zelbreghn replied as he shifted in his chair. Already he could tell that the general before him was far different from the others he had been forced to deal with recently. This general gave off a more calming air and he couldn't help but to relax in his presence. Rakln, Zelbreghn felt, must surely be of the dying breed of officers that could still share the mentality held by the troops they commanded.
"Ah, that's probably for the best," Rakln said at Zelbreghn's polite refusal. "Best not to let drinking get in the way of our business here, right?" While Zelbreghn chose not to answer the question Rakln could tell the man was simply anxious about pushing aside all of this cordiality and get straight to why he was called here. "I have been looking over your record," he casually said as he glanced back down to the file that laid on his desk.
"Oh?" was Zelbreghn's only reply as he tried to discern from the general's tone whether this was a good or bad thing.
"If I may be so blunt, were we to have more of our soldiers with a record like this then we would have already won this horrible war against the Romulans." Rakln said as his gaze returned back to Zelbreghn.
Zelbreghn was taken back by such praise coming from this highly decorated war general and he suddenly felt glad that he had his helmet on and that Rakln was unable to see his face. "It's nothing special." he modestly said.
"Nonsense," the general firmly replied. While he was unable to see the commander's face he could once again sense what it surely must be displaying. Rakln normally saw such modesty in a soldier as a failing, but somehow it seemed to fit Zelbreghn. "Could a record that boasts victory in twenty three different campaigns be labeled as nothing special? One that includes the defense of Minas Korva and the costly Norcon Campaign which nearly eight thousand soldiers were lost and was just barely won? To you this record is nothing special?"
"I only did what I thought any Breen would do in those situations; fight for the protection of my home and my people."
This response caused Rakln to lean back in his chair impressed. Not only was Zelbreghn's reply one that he favored, but his casual tone about it was something that left the stalwart general impressed. In the throes of war so many fought and died for their own selfish and petty reasons. Maybe it was in the hope that their name would be remembered and thusly part of them live on forever. Maybe it was in the hope that they or someone close to them would gain some large compensation for their 'heroic' acts. For a soldier to fiercely march into battle with only concern for the safety of their defenseless brethren was a sign of a noble warrior with an attitude that Rakln found to be refreshing.
As Zelbreghn awaited the next question he could read by the general's posture that his answer had impressed upon the man to whom he felt the term war hero belonged. He had given the answer without thought and had said only what he felt a soldier should do in times of war. Sadly though he knew that this wasn't always the case, and the fact that this mentality had become so rare that any who had it would be labeled as noble caused him to further shake his head in disgust.
"Not everyone shares that view, commander." Rakln said as his thoughts became words and he tried to convey how unique Zelbreghn's mindset was.
"No they don't," Zelbreghn quietly muttered. "Our allies for instance..." he started to add, but suddenly decided against it.
"They do not all fight with that selfless mentality that we Breen seem to naturally possess," the general added with a slight nod of his head as he validated Zelbreghn's thought. "Why do you think that is?"
This question came to Zelbreghn as a surprise and as such required a moment's thought. Running through his mind was a list of possibilities that would satisfy as an answer. Could it be fear? Or greed perhaps? Did the answer lay in such tangible emotions? Or was the answer really something much simpler? While any number of possibilities could be the answer that Rakln was searching for Zelbreghn felt it best to not try and blindly guess and so he simply replied that he didn't know.
"Culture, Zelbreghn. It's our grand culture and our appreciation for it that gives us this selfless mentality out of a desire to protect that culture."
Was that really the answer? Zelbreghn felt a little confused by Rakln's answer, and though he was a superior officer he felt that he shouldn't blindly accept it. This too was another trait that he felt made him better in the role of commander. "But do our allies not have their own rich cultures to be praised upon?"
"Yes they do," Rakln conceded with notable hesitation, "but are their cultures as old as ours? As rich as ours?" When the general pressed these questions to Zelbreghn he did so in a manner that made the answers seem obvious, at least to him.
Not willing to simply end Rakln's thoughts on that point Zelbreghn decided to voice his concern with the general's reasoning. "The Cardassians have a very rich culture," he replied as he fondly recalled the beautiful sights he had seen, most notably the architecture, during a stay on their homeworld a few years back. "And the Bajorans certainly have a very ancient and rich culture of their own." On this point Zelbreghn sat there in thought for a moment before he decided to add, "All of our allies in fact have a pretty rich and diverse culture that they can claim as their own."
"Yes, yes they all do, to an extent..." Rakln's words trailed off there as he tried to think of a solid way to convince the soldier before him of the point he was trying to make. His tone seemed to take on a mood that made Zelbreghn feel as though his constant questioning of the general was leaving Rakln upset, but this was in fact far from the case. Rakln always enjoyed debating such matters with those around him and he always saw it as a new opportunity to sharpen his wits. Sitting there and sifting through recent events an idea suddenly came to Rakln's mind and he rose from his chair and made his way to the painting admired by Zelbreghn earlier.
When the general stood up Zelbreghn started to do the same out of military courtesy, but at the last minute he decided to simply sit and wait. His eyes followed the seasoned general as he walked across the room and a simple feeling of curiosity wrapped itself around Zelbreghn's mind as he sat and wondered what was on the general's mind. Silence fell upon the two Breen soldiers and the office they occupied until Rakln finally decided to speak.
"This painting here," he said as he gestured to the waterfall painting that adorned the wall behind his desk, "has quite a history behind it. I'm sure you are well aware of it." The whole time Rakln spoke he stared ahead, not taking his eyes off of the painting and leaving his back to be all the commander could see.
"Of course I do. Every child is told of it." Zelbreghn said as his casual tone began to give way to confusion and hint slightly at insult. Another pause ensued as he waited for the general to continue on with his thought and to explain his reason for the question, but this moment wouldn't come. Instead Rakln turned slightly so that he could look over his shoulder at Zelbreghn as if urging him to tell the story, as if its telling was of some consequence. Zelbreghn sat there in an attempt to make certain that this was what was wanted of him. Once he was sure he gave an inaudible sigh before relating the well known story.
"Ten centuries ago, when our culture was still considered feudal, there was a king named Jolm'h who was considered to be the wisest and strongest man of the day. He was envied by all who looked upon him and all that envied him longed for a chance to serve in his court. One day when his daughter came of age he announced that she would be wed to whomever could meet his challenge."
Zelbreghn paused for a moment and simply stared at the general's back, hoping that somehow who could gain insight into the man's thoughts and find out why this simple tale was so important. Unable to divine such answers he went on.
"That challenge was for each suitor to go out and find something to match his daughter's beauty to be presented as a gift to her. Hundreds of warriors went out and brought back all sorts of jewelry, fine clothing, and other material things of the like in the hopes that one of these items would impress upon Jolm'h enough to gain his daughter and entrance to his court. While each of these treasures were enough to marvel the warriors, and indeed all common eyes that laid upon them, they left the great king with little more than a larger pile of shiny acquisitions. Being a ruler over a great many lands he had been tributed with so many articles already that these minor tokens given in the hopes of his daughter's hand did nothing to impress upon him at all. For many years this continued and not one soul could claim the princess' hand."
"Then one day a timid cobbler made his way into Jolm'h's court. "What brings you to my grand hall, cobbler?" Jolm'h asked the man upon his entrance. "I have come bearing a gift, my lord, in exchange for your daughter to become my bride." the cobbler replied in a firm tone despite the frail state he had been put into in the king's presence. Jolm'h looked over the man before him and, noticing how impoverished the man appeared, seriously doubted him to have something that could equate to his daughter. Nevertheless he decided to humor the man. "I have not an earthly possession to buy such a beauty from you, my lord, nor do I have anything that could match the offerings of this land's fine noblemen. Instead I offer onto you this simple work,'" he said before removing a painting from the sack that had been tied to his back."
"The painting was of a waterfall that Jolm'h had never before laid witness to. The cobbler, Nercht'k, explained that while he had not been blessed with earthly possessions he had been blessed with finding the waterfall, to which he said, was second in beauty only to Jolm'h's daughter. Those that were present at this moment looked on readily in their belief that Jolm'h would cast off this simple painting and turn Nercht'k away. Something though in that painting struck a chord within the wise king and he saw what the painting truly represented. While everyone else had thought beauty to come from all that glittered Nercht'k was able to find beauty, pure and untainted beauty, in the simpleness of nature. This concept and this painting moved Jolm'h so much that he gave his daughter to Nercht'k, as well as the waterfall that will forever live in his namesake, and helped to start a new enlightened age for our people. An age where simple pleasures were more valued over extravagant ones and where greed could finally give way to prosperity. It was the beginning of a bridge between our once savage ways and the noble ways that made us truly a great people. A people, in my strong belief sir, that is still as noble as Nercht'k and still as truly great as a people can be."
As Zelbreghn finished the story Rakln found himself smiling. This soldier showed promise at becoming one of their people's great heroes. "Very good, commander." Rakln said as he turned to face Zelbreghn. "Now, what about that?" he said as he gestured towards a glass case across the room from him.
Zelbreghn's gaze stared at the general's hand and traced its invisible path across the room to where it undoubtedly ended. Unable to clearly see what the glass encased he slowly rose up from his chair. Once he was fully standing he briefly looked back at the general as though he suddenly needed permission to approach whatever the case contained before making his way across the general's office. Standing before the case he saw the gleaming weapon it contained. Bringing his fingers to hover just above the glass he traced the three curved and serrated blades that jutted from the weapon's hilt. "An ash'kl," Zelbreghn said in awe of the death bringer. "I didn't think that any still existed."
"There were five recovered from the battlegrounds of the Galroxia Plains a few years back. Three of them were presented to various museums on our homeworld. One is at display at the weapon's gallery back at headquarters. And, well there is the fifth one." Zelbreghn's reaction to this news was so tangible that Rakln could immediately sense how the soldier felt about this discovery, even though Zelbreghn's back was turned to him and there was no discernible sign of reaction in Zelbreghn's posture. Rakln could not blame the man for this reaction, for he himself had such a reaction upon seeing this ancient and deadly blade. He knew that whatever Zelbreghn was feeling though was about to be completely overshadowed by his next revelation. "That blade is an original too," Rakln added before smugly crossing his arms across his chest and standing in wait of Zelbreghn's next reaction.
"You mean this blade was actually..." Zelbreghn started to say, but suddenly found himself breathless and wordless as complete awe swept through him.
"Yes, commander." Rakln said as he took a step towards the soldier and the blade he was in so awe of. "That blade was one of the original blades that protected our people and drove back the Hur'q scum when they tried to invade our world centuries ago."
At the mention of the Hur'q name and the long ago war Zelbreghn found himself quickly turning around and facing the general, who was now only a step away. If the blade before him had truly seen the bloodshed that had been inflicted upon the would be invaders then this was not to be looked at as just some blade. No, this was an icon and a symbol of all the greatness embodied within a Breen. It felt to him in that moment to be something of a holy icon, and he nearly felt that he should kneel to pay homage to this blade and the brave warriors that had wielded it. Instead he simply stood there and stared at Rakln, not quite sure what to do next.
Sensing the awe and admiration that Zelbreghn had for this blade made Rakln smile. In that moment he decided to ask the man before him one final question, to make one final judgment of him, before telling Zelbreghn what he had in mind for him. "Would you like to hold it?" he asked plainly as he walked up to the glass case.
This question struck Zelbreghn with such a force that he nearly toppled over in stupor. He could hardly believe this relic to be before him, and now he was being given the chance to touch it, and therefore touch a piece of glorious Breen history itself. Inside his mind screamed the words to accept this noble and rare gift, yet in the moment his mouth grew dry and the words seemed to be impossibly stuck in his throat. After a moment's wait Rakln turned to look upon the Breen commander to see if there was an answer somewhere present within Zelbreghn's being. With the general's gaze locked upon him Zelbreghn found it even more difficult to answer the question, and with only the smallest bit of strength he could summon he slowly began to nod his head in assent.
Underneath his helmet Rakln couldn't help but to smile anew at Zelbreghn's reaction. He could already tell that this soldier was exactly the kind he hoped all would become when they left the training academy. This brand of warrior that was so well versed in their culture as to selflessly sacrifice their being in the hopes of preserving and honoring that culture was a brand that Rakln considered truly noble and felt especially proud that the kind could be found among the Breen ranks. As a reward for that nobility Rakln thought it only fit that he allow this fine soldier to touch a piece of the culture he had sworn his life to protect.
Slowly Rakln opened the case in a manner that seemed to add dramatic effect to the moment that was shared between the Breen general and his subordinate. Once nothing separated the two Breen from the gleaming relic Rakln reached in and firmly grasped the blade in the palm of his hand. Taking his eyes off the weapon briefly he looked at Zelbreghn as the commander held out his hands in eager anticipation at the chance to touch the almost holy relic. As the general placed the ash'kl in Zelbreghn's hands he felt a new surge of joy come to him through this blade and for a moment he felt as though he had touched the hand of an angel; or a devil.
Carefully Zelbreghn gripped the ash'kl's hilt firmly in the palm of his hand and he slowly twisted his wrist so as to get a better view of every facet the weapon had to offer. The precision handiwork that had been done to this blade, its subtle curves, the way the centuries old metal still gleamed in the plasma lighting of Rakln's office, all of these facts were enough to take Zelbreghn's breath away and leave him in complete awe of the ash'kl. Standing there and holding this blade from another time Zelbreghn couldn't help but to let his mind wander back to the day when this blade shined new and was coated in the thick blood of a fallen foe. Oh those surely must have been glorious days! If only he could be given the chance to go back for one day and to live in those times. As his mind traveled to thoughts of the past Zelbreghn, in a child-like fashion, began to flick his wrist back and forth, imitating the various techniques that were used by ash'kl warriors of the day. He kept up this play for several moments until he suddenly realized what he was doing and as he looked at the general his face suddenly glowed red in embarrassment underneath his helmet.
Watching the younger officer dart and weave with the ancient weapon caused Rakln to laugh, but only on the inside, and only to himself. The child-like swordplay that the commander was engaged in seemed not too infantile to the on looking general. Zelbreghn's moves and technique reflected a truly skilled warrior that made his actions anything but that of a child. The other reason that Rakln could place no blame upon the man was because he himself had felt the need to give the blade a test once it had been given to him. These actions of the commander solidified a decision in Rakln's mind, and he was about to relay that decision to Zelbreghn, but suddenly the comms unit placed on his desk started to beep in a demand for his attention.
Once the unit started to beep the silence of the office around the two soldiers collapsed in on itself, and with it collapsed the ancient imaginings that Zelbreghn had fallen into. As Rakln made his way back to his desk to answer the incessant noise Zelbreghn carefully placed the blade back in its case. Staring at it and all the glory it represented he ran his fingers over its smooth surface one last time before bringing the lid down close on the case and sealing the token from the past back where it would be protected for another day and another generation. With that accomplished the Breen commander turned back around just as Rakln finished speaking with whomever had saw fit to bother them.
As the channel was closed Rakln found himself standing there and silently cursing the news he had just received. He had thought there would be more time before they had to leave, and thusly he would have ample time to brief Zelbreghn on the mission they were about to undertake. For reasons known only to the top brass the time table for the mission had suddenly not been good enough. Because of those reasons they had found it necessary to push the timing of the mission up by several hours, and since they always got whatever they wanted with nary a word of dissent the new time table had been quickly accepted, thus forcing him into this frustrating predicament. Had he known how little his time with Zelbreghn would be then he would have come right out with his reasons for requesting the soldier the moment Zelbreghn had stepped into his office. Now though his presence was in need and he hadn't even been able to touch upon the subject with Zelbreghn. Giving way to a sigh Rakln knew that standing there and thinking about it was only serving to waste more precious time, and so he decided to just come out with his first question for the soldier before him. "How would you like to be given a new command?" Rakln tried to say as smoothly as possible, though he missed the mark and the tension he felt about being rushed in this situation was clearly present.
A new command? The question and the thoughts that it entailed overwhelmed Zelbreghn and he scarcely knew what to say. For months he had been cooped up in this station with only the desire to rejoin the fight and make himself feel useful once more. The sudden prospect of being given a new ship to command, taking it into the torments of war, and using it to further victory for his people against the Romulans seemed a godsend. He almost couldn't respond to the general's question as the moment swept him up, but somehow he managed to choke out, "Yes sir, very much."
"Very well then," Rakln said in response as he looked over Zelbreghn and sized him up one final time. Despite the shortness of time he had known the commander, Rakln had gotten a strong impression of the man. A big enough impression to know that Zelbreghn was exactly the type of soldier he wanted commanding the flagship of this operation. "Come with me," he quickly said before making his way through the office's door and back out into the station's vast hallway.
As Zelbreghn stepped out into the familiar hallway that he had used to get to Rakln's office he nearly paused for a moment as something about it seemed very unfamiliar to him. Looking up and down it didn't take him more then the shortest of moments to realize why the hallway suddenly seemed so alien to him. It was empty; totally and completely empty. Not a soul could be seen moving in either direction and an eerie quiet had taken advantage of the vacancy to descend upon the normally flooded area. In the entire time he had been posted at this station he had never seen the main hallway to be so void of life. Even in the restless hours of twilight there had always been someone here and on duty. Now it seemed there was no one else on the entire base save for him and Rakln. With the silence came a dark foreboding sense to the Breen commander and he couldn't help but to shiver at its touch as he and the general stepped onto the nearest turbolift.
The trip downward into the depths of the station was a quiet one, as Rakln spent his time wondering what exactly he should say to Zelbreghn and the commander in turn wondering what could have caused the lifelessness he had witnessed in the main hallway. Of the two only Rakln's thoughts were constructive and as they stood there waiting for their journey's end he suddenly felt that something needed to be said. "Would you like to know the mission we are about to go on?" the general casually asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead the whole time.
Standing there Zelbreghn could scarcely think of what to say. For the third time in the brief moment the two soldiers had known each other Rakln had asked him what he felt was an obvious question. Of course he would want to know about the mission he was apparently getting ready to disembark on. Just like he of course would like a new command posting and to have held the ash'kl. Had these questions come from anyone else then Zelbreghn might have become annoyed and labeled them as stupid. Out of his easy, forgiving nature, and the fact that he found himself enjoying the presence of Rakln's company, he decided to shove any feelings on the matter aside and give a simple and firm yes.
"Do you know of the Reta'ul system?" Rakln asked plainly, not moving a single muscle on his body other than his mouth.
Reviewing his knowledge on all the various star systems Zelbreghn suddenly remembered a report he had once read about that particular system. In it was described a desolate system with eleven worlds, all made of barren rock and hunks of useless ore. It was an utterly insignificant system, and the only reason he knew of it at all was because it was placed just within the Romulan's side of the border. This had caused him to familiarize himself with its name even though it was the last place he thought that anything of relevance would occur. After a few moments of waiting for an answer Rakln cleared his throat and turned slightly to look at Zelbreghn. Startled, Zelbreghn gave a quick nod before the general saw fit to continue on.
"Our intelligence has suggested that a large number of Romulan vessels are being diverted to that system. More then four dozen warbirds are estimated to have arrived, and who knows how many more might join them. Their intention though is clear." On these words the turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open.
Stepping off the lift Zelbreghn noticed they were on the station's docking ring as he wondered how all this information was relevant to him. He tried to think of a reason why the Romulans would suddenly choose the Reta'ul system as a staging place for an attack force. It was near the border, but that was the only strategic value he could find. Going over every iota of data he felt himself lost as to why the Romulans would send such a large group there. Then the obvious hit him and he felt completely stupid. He put the question to himself about where he would send his forces to prepare for a strike on the enemy. Of course it would be to a desolate system, right to where the enemy would overlook. Plus the Reta'ul system was far from any of the recent battles, so it would make sense that no Alliance vessels would be close enough to stop this force before it crossed over into Alliance space.
"Reports further say that it will be several days before they are ready to launch their attack. We are going to intercept that fleet before then." The tone that Rakln used as he delivered the statement had such a commanding presence to it that Zelbreghn felt thoroughly convinced that it was not only possible for the Romulan vessels to be stopped, but also that there was nothing that would prevent them from being stopped. "And," Rakln said with a pause as he made his way to a nearby viewport, "we are going to do it in that."
Joining his commanding officer at the viewport Zelbreghn looked out to see a gleaming warship locked into one of the station's many construction cradles. Everything about it seemed designed in such a way so as to impress anyone who looked upon it. From its sleek look, to the way the hull seemed to glow in reflection of the system's sun, it was a sight that forced Zelbreghn to catch his breath. Even though it was of the same class as literally hundreds of vessels in the Breen fleet, including his ill-fated Tzlih, there just seemed to be something special about this particular ship.
"Commander Zelbreghn, I would like to introduce you to the Korylx, our latest addition to the fleet. And also, the new ship that I want you to command."
As Zelbreghn stared at the mighty vessel in continued awe he did not register the general's words right away. When he did though they left an impression upon him that left him without a single word to say.
Moving away from the viewport Rakln began to make his way down the hallway with Zelbreghn quickly coming up to join him. Though no words were said between them as they walked towards the airlock that would lead them to the Korylx Rakln could once more sense the commander's mood. The eagerness that Zelbreghn had rushing through him was so tangible that anyone within three feet of the man would instantly pick it up. These feelings were not something that surprised Rakln, nor did he condemn Zelbreghn for having them. In fact he himself was quite thrilled. Though most of that joy was due to the fact that Zelbreghn was so enthusiastic about rejoining the fight against the Romulans. Their war had been a very long and very costly one, and it wasn't uncommon for him to come upon troops that were so disheartened that they nearly seemed dead. To find someone that was so eager to fight with such a record as that of Zelbreghn's seemed in that moment to the general as nothing short of a miracle.
Inside his chest Zelbreghn could feel his heart racing with anticipation and his veins fill with adrenaline as the two soldiers made their way down the station's connector to the Korylx's airlock. Ever since he had managed to limp the crippled Tzlih out of the Kresh'nar Nebula, only to be captured by Romulan hands, he had longed for the chance to fight the Romulans again. He had seen that mission as a painful failure, one which he intended to make up for. Now that he was being given this new chance with this new ship he felt that finally he would be able to exact some retribution to the Romulans. This retribution would not be dealt solely for what they did to himself, but also for what they did to his crew. Those were the ones that had caused him to hope for this chance. He felt like their honor was dependant upon how much damage he could inflict upon the Romulans before his own death greeted him. The thought was similar to the Klingon one involving Sto'Vo'Kor, but he knew that it was wholly different. Either way he was a soldier at war, and as such he had vowed that until his breath was taken he would dedicate his life and his entire being to ending the lives of any Romulan he encountered.
The moment Zelbreghn's boot touched the metal plated flooring of the Korylx he felt a new rush of excitement come to him. Though the plating looked nearly indistinguishable from that of the station's connector Zelbreghn could tell he had now stepped onto his new, glistening ship. There just seemed to be an indescribable feeling in the air that told him so. Whatever it was though he felt the need to simply stand there for a moment to absorb the moment in before Rakln cleared his thought at the pair made their way to a nearby turbolift.
"Bridge," Rakln said in a toneless voice after they stepped onto the lift. Once the doors closed there was a sudden feeling of movement before the lift began its silent ascent.
While Zelbreghn's mind was caught up in the moment of being on this new ship it was not completely focused on the subject. There was another part that had something completely different that had seized its attention, and in the next moment Zelbreghn felt his lips move so this part could have a say as well. "Sir, what exactly is our plan once we get to the Reta'ul system?" he asked in honest curiosity.
Turning his head Rakln looked at the younger officer for a moment. Zelbreghn's question was one that he had not expected to be asked, though he felt stupid for letting it not be. Of course the officer would want to know the details of the mission he was about to be sent on. Any officer would. With an exhale of breath he decided that his mind had just been too wrapped up in things lately, and that this was the cause for his absence of information concerning Zelbreghn and the mission they were about to embark on. It was an absence that he decided to immediately make up for. Once he cleared his throat and wetted his lips he began to tell the commander of the plan to destroy this new Romulan threat.
"This mission is not going to be an easy one," Rakln plainly said. Once said he paused for a moment, wishing he had come up so some more encouraging words to open his plan. It was the truth though, and he saw no reason to hide the truth from a soldier during a time of war. With this in mind he continued. "We know the Romulan task force is somewhere in the Reta'ul system, but precisely where is a mystery. Obviously this means we are going to have to flush them out. A task that we can't do with a huge fleet, otherwise the Romulans are more likely to leave under cloak rather than expose themselves to us and a possible defeat."
Nodding his head Zelbreghn agreed with the general's assessment thus far. With their cloaking technology the Romulans certainly had an aptitude for sneaking around undetected. This advantage of theirs had caused countless death and loss for the Alliance. He also knew that this advantage was one that the Romulans wouldn't drop so casually.
"That is why there will be a small group, the Korylx as well as three other vessels, who are going to flush them out. It's hoped that if only one or a few vessels expose them then it will provoke them enough to drop their cloak and attack rather then let this information get back to the rest of the Alliance."
So many questions filled the commander's head that he couldn't think of what to ask first. Surely the general was leaving out a great deal of the plan that their leaders had devised. If not, then there were simply too many uncertainties for him to believe that anyone, especially this famed and seasoned war general, would sanction such a plan. "How exactly are we supposed to flush out the Romulan ships sir?" Zelbreghn asked as he decided that to be his first question to the general.
"Ah, this is where the plan gets a little tricky, commander." The statement was left in the air for a moment as Zelbreghn's curiosity about the plan grew unchecked. "Our scientists believe that by amassing such a large number of vessels in such a small area has caused an unexpected side effect from their cloaks. By what I was personally told, having that many cloaked vessels has caused a buildup of tachyon particles in the system. If we recalibrate our sensors with a point oh-two variance and flood the area with iso radiation then we should be able to detect the Romulan fleet. Even through their cloak."
While this seemed an adequate response to his question Zelbreghn still didn't feel completely satisfied by it. From Rakln's tone this plan seemed sketchy at best. Even with this rough idea of what they would be doing Zelbreghn still saw too many holes in their little plan to make it viable. Especially when he considered how many lives would surely be risked on this gamble of theirs. "And what are our vessels to do when they detect the Romulan fleet, sir? Surely you aren't expecting a few vessels to take on an enemy force of this magnitude, are you?" This question had rested itself as the second most important on his long list and he felt that it was absolutely necessary that it be answered before their arrival at the bridge.
"Once they expose the Romulan threat then their orders are to turn tail and run." This statement, along with Rakln's stern and straightforward tone, let his words hold such a force behind them that they left the Breen commander beside him stunned. Rakln must have picked up on this change in Zelbreghn's mood because the general quickly recovered his position with a question. "Are you familiar with the Bassen Rift, commander?"
The Bassen Rift. With the mention of this part of space Zelbreghn once more picked through the database in his mind in the hopes that he would find some information locked away about this particular rift. Having quick memory recall he was able to easily find all the information about the Bassen Rift that he knew. As the information came to him he gave a nod in response to Rakln's question, yet he hardly knew why this particular region of space had been mentioned.
"That is where the bulk of our fleet will be in wait. Our plan is that when the scouts detect the cloaked Romulan fleet they are to turn around and head at full speed for this rift. The Romulans will undoubtedly pursue in an attempt to destroy any vessel that has made their position. Remember, they don't know that we know their fleet is in the Reta'ul system. So when they see our ships turn and run they will be under the impression that our ships will be trying to exit Romulan space and get a message back to the Alliance about their presence. They will follow right into the Bassen Rift, right to where we will close the trap on them. Since the rift disables long range communications we will be able to decimate the Romulan forces and they will be unable to call for reinforcements or to tell their brethren of our presence within the rift."
It was a bold plan. Zelbreghn had to admit that much if nothing else. There were plenty of ways for this plan to fail for them and it was full of risks that could prove fatal in the end. Still, despite the various risks and assumptions that were involved, he could see the sheer audacity of the plan, and for that alone he felt a measure of pride. This was the plan of a true warrior, of a Breen, and whether it was fool proof or not he felt in that instant it was bound to succeed. After all, was it not typically the most chaotic and suicidal plans that ended up succeeded? Maybe it was only those types of plans that were remembered. Either way though as the turbolift began to slow he felt confident about this plan, and with a step onto the Korylx's bridge he pushed any lingering doubts out of his mind.
That first step out of the turbolift was the biggest and most important step that Zelbreghn had taken since his release from the Romulan prison camp on Carraya IV those many months ago. Since he had been stuck in near exile aboard the Breen station since his return from capture he had wondered if he would ever be allowed to rejoin the fight against his Romulan foe. Even when Rakln had told him that he was to be given a fresh command that seemingly long time ago he had scarecly believed he would actually be going into combat. As he stepped onto the Korylx's bridge however all doubt had been cast aside. This was the first time he had been on the bridge of a Breen warship of this design since he had been ripped from the battered one of the Tzlih. With this new ship and this new crew he felt like he was being given the chance to make up for any failures he had had so far in his military career. It was a second chance, a rare chance, and he felt determined that he would not let this chance be squandered. He felt determined that by the day's end he would make the Romulans pay for all the atrocities they had committed.
Taking in the sight of the bridge around him Zelbreghn moved his gaze across each of the bridge crew as they made last minute preparations for their departure. To him it felt like so long ago since he had been on the Tzlih's bridge and in command of some of the finest officers he had ever met. They had been more than just fellow officers to him though. He had been in command of the Tzlih for nearly six years and in that expanse of time he had gotten to know each of them on a more personal level then was generally smiled upon during a time of war. He knew their spouses, their children, their whole living family, and in that respect he had felt as though he had become family himself. This had caused a great feeling of loss to him when the Tzlih had been captured and its crew had been killed or sent off. A far greater feeling than any commander would ever want to feel. While he enjoyed this new crew, and the new opportunity that had come with them, he couldn't help but to feel a little out of place. A ship in a time of war was expected to be a well trained killing machine, and its crew expected to never falter in the moment of battle. As a commanding officer Zelbreghn always felt it much easier for that machine to run smoothly when he knew of the officers around him and knew what to expect of them. In this new command he worried for a moment that this gap in knowledge would spell doom for him and the crew. Doubts of this nature were to be expected though and he simply vowed not to let them get the best of him.
The energy on the Korylx's bridge was a tangible excitement. That is the only way that Rakln could think to describe what he felt the moment he had steeped off of the turbolift. He knew this crew was excited about their upcoming mission, as well they should be. Being a warrior race the prospect of battle always seemed to excite a Breen with a passion not often seen in other races. They were a race that thrived on conquest, though they kept that thriving in check so as not to appear savage.
Rakln knew from records that these Breen that surrounded him were no different. They had all served with distinction and honor throughout the course of the war, and all had very high reputations to back those distinctions. The general felt that these were the best caliber of warrior that the ranks of the Breen army offered. He felt honored that he was about to stare death in the face along side them and turn that death against the Romulans. Knowing that with Zelbreghn now aboard the final piece of his plan had been put into place he decided to hold these warriors back from the field of battle no longer. "Helm, signal the station that we are ready for departure and prepare to engage warp the moment was have cleared the station."
"Aye sir," the officer at helm said, unable to hide his excitement about finally getting underway. It was an excitement that every officer around them showed as they stood ready at their stations in anticipation of the coming battle.
Not all the officers on the bridge were quite so eager though as Zelbreghn suddenly turned to Rakln, confusion apparent in his being. "You are coming with us, sir?" he asked stunned that Rakln had not ducked out after his arrival.
"Why of course I am commander," the general replied with a sort of zeal of his own. "Wouldn't miss this party for the world."
"But I thought..." Zelbreghn started, but suddenly decided not to finish his assumption.
"You thought you were going to command this ship, correct?" Rakln asked in a hushed tone as he stared ahead at the viewscreen. "Well you are Zelbreghn, don't worry about that. Someone at the top though decided that this little mission of ours was too important for it to go forward without a commanding presence such as myself here. So, in short, you're leading this ship and I'm leading this fleet."
This was becoming hardly the second chance that Zelbreghn had so longed for and had so believed he was getting when he stepped aboard the Korylx. In the throes of battle, and war itself, the last thing a commander needed was a superior there breathing down their neck and making his rank known. Rakln though he could tell was different. While he had woken up on this fateful morning knowing the man only by reputation and by their brief encounter at the Narendra Conference he felt an odd certainty that he knew this man now as best as any soldier could. With that belief came another belief in that Rakln was the rare type of superior that any troop under his command could respect and think highly of. Rakln had been a soldier for the people of their world, and in a universe of leaders with stereotypical arrogance and a lack of regard for those that served them, Zelbreghn felt it refreshing to see that this man's rank had done nothing to lessen his state of mind. As he kept this in mind he slowly slipped down into his new captain's chair and stared ahead as the Korylx finally cleared the station and sped off towards their rendezvous and towards destiny.
Several days later Zelbreghn found himself in a situation that seemed hauntingly familiar to his last command and what had inevitably ended in his capture. As in the Kresh'nar Nebula his vessel had aimlessly drifted across the Reta'ul system in an attempt to locate any sign of the Romulans. Unlike before when they were searching for dilithium ore and had run into the Romulans by accident this ship and this mission demanded their foe's presence.
It had been a rough couple of days for the crew since leaving dock. In the short time that Zelbreghn had been allowed to get to know his new officers he had quickly realized that each of these soldiers were among the best that Breen society offered. He felt honored that he had been hand selected to lead these fine warriors into death's shadow, but that feeling of honor couldn't make up for the uncomfortable feeling that persisted within him. Had his presence and his new ship not been so demanded by Rakln to participate in this mission then Zelbreghn would have asked for a less crucial mission to serve as a shakedown cruise for himself aboard this alien ship where he commanded an alien crew. He simply felt that to be of proper use to the war effort he and his crew needed the time to mesh together. Rakln would not hear of it though, and considering what was at stake, Zelbreghn could do nothing but agree with the general.
Rakln, like the rest of the crew, was beginning to show signs of strain at constantly being on the alert. As a mortal being only so much sacrifice could be asked of the body before it started to fight back. Not knowing when and where the Romulans would be discovered had forced the crew into a constant state of alertness. A state that they refused to slack in, fearing the moment they did so then their green-blooded enemy would reveal themselves and take advantage of the situation. Though it pained each of them they stayed at their respective posts ready for the moment when their waiting would pay off. Of all the officers on board Rakln had pushed on the most, allowing only small bits of food to be brought to him. They all shared in a dedication that bordered on insane fanaticism, and it was a dedication that marked them all as true and noble warriors.
"Begin scanning sector four fifty two," Zelbreghn ordered, weariness and fatigue apparent in his tone. Though fatigue was present in his tone and in the slacked posture in which he sat Zelbreghn would deny that he was being effected at all were anyone to ask. He was as determined as the rest of the soldiers around him to find the Romulans and be here when that moment finally came.
For countless hours the crew of the Korylx had blindly searched the area around Reta'ul's third planet, hoping for even the slightest elevation of tachyon particles to be present and signal that their search was over. Reta'ul was a vast system that spread out and contained eleven separate planets. Only three other vessels had been ordered to aide in the Korylx's search for the Romulans, bringing the total to four vessels that were combing the eleven planet system. In his fatigued mind Zelbreghn thought about a Terran saying he had once heard involving something called a haystack. He hadn't quite understood the saying's meaning at the time, but now he found it somehow applicable to the situation. Hope was beginning to dim on their chances of finding their foe that hid behind a veil of cowardice and Zelbreghn's mind was beginning to dim as well. Unable to fight off the demons of sleep any longer he started to nod forward in his chair, just as an alarm somewhere off to his right began blaring. Suddenly feeling awake and straightening himself, he took a moment to gauge where he was before he turned his attention to the noise's source.
"Sir, I'm picking up elevated tachyon readings in sector four fifty six," a young officer said with newfound hope and excitement.
"Could it be them? Could it actually be them?" Zelbreghn muttered in a hushed sense that was meant only for himself. A hand suddenly being placed on his shoulder though told him that Rakln had heard his questions of disbelief.
"Only one way to find out," the general said as he focused all his attention on the viewscreen in wondering anticipation about what was about to be revealed to them.
"Tactical, fire a salvo of spatial charges at those coordinates," Zelbreghn firmly said as he clasped his hands together in wait. While en route it had been decided between him and the general that spatial charges were to be used if they thought the cloaked vessels had been found. Having a low yield they both knew that the charges would do little more then ruin a warbird's pristine coat of paint, but while they would be useless in affecting any sort of damage it would light them up quite nicely.
"Firing," came the single and strong word of the Korylx's tactical officer as he entered the command to fire the charges.
Winding this way and that the charges seemed to dance upon the screen in an attempt show how truly remarkable they were. This display was one that the Breen soldiers would have gladly foregone, as in that moment they wished for nothing else then simply to have the charges complete their mission and reveal the pray they had so stalked. Finally upon arriving at the coordinates the charges exploded into a bright brilliance display of debris and plasma. As things began to settle and the moment grew still each and every officer present stared ahead, hoping that this would finally become their moment. Fading away into nothingness the last remnants of the charges rewarded their valiant wielders as the silhouette of four separate warbirds appeared on the screen.
"Fire all weapons!" Zelbreghn shouted in sheer ecstasy as he leaped out of his chair. He was not alone in this moment of joy as everyone around him felt it as well. With as much strength as he could muster the tactical officer entered onto his panel a sequence which told the Korylx to unload its fierce payload of weaponry upon the newly discovered foes. As it fired the Korylx herself seemed to shake with pure joy.
The sight that quickly took command of the moment saw the four warbirds as they helplessly bent under the full wrath of the Breen onslaught. In vain they attempted to decloak and raise their shields, hoping this thin barrier would be enough to lessen the Breen's assault and give them enough time to make sense of the situation and retaliate, but it was far too late for these vessels. Glowing of death the four warbirds suddenly became lifeless as their metallic hulls were set ablaze and sent spiraling down to the depths of the underworld.
Seeing four of their brothers suddenly and savagely die at the hands of these Breen aggressors six more warbirds decided to rise up to the call and force the bell of death to toll for Zelbreghn and his crew. Lost in the full swing of jubilation the Breen crew didn't see as the half dozen squadron encircled the lone Breen warship and decloaked, letting the full force of their weapons grace upon the Breen hull the moment their shields were raised. Everyone aboard felt this tap the Romulans had seen fit to lay upon them.
Thrilling over the quick death he had caused to four of the Romulans' mighty vessels Zelbreghn knew that phase one of their plan had been completed. Though he knew his ship to be surrounded he couldn't help but to let his crew enjoy that sweet moment of victory before they were thrust back to the bitter torments of battle. With the impact of the Romulan weapons he knew that it was time for phase two of their plan to be initiated. "Helm, lay in a course for the Bassen Rift, maximum warp." he ordered as the adrenaline of the moment began to die down.
"Wait!" General Rakln suddenly yelled out from behind Zelbreghn. This caused the commander to turn and face Rakln in confusion as the general spoke. "Tactical, how many warbirds have decloaked and are engaging us?"
"I'm picking up half a dozen, sir." the officer replied as he gripped his console for support as the impact of weaponry forced the whole ship to convulse.
"No, no that's not enough," Rakln began to mutter to himself. Moving towards the tactical station he simply shouted, "Fire all of our spatial charges!"
Watching the general as the ship came under wave after wave of Romulan fire Zelbreghn was in utter disbelief about Rakln's sudden behavior. "What are you doing sir?" he shouted as a console exploded. "We have to get out of here and back to the Bassen Rift!"
"No, not yet!" Rakln shouted as the Korylx began to whine its own reservations about staying. "We have to have more Romulan vessels exposed and chasing us, otherwise this will have all been in vain."
"The other ships can come and expose them sir! We have to get out of here now!"
"No, they might be gone by that time! We have to act now!" These were the last words spoken by Rakln as he shoved the tactical officer aside and proceeded to enter in the commands that he felt were needed before they could tuck tail and run to the mild safety the rift offered.
Outside the ship hundreds of spatial charges were sent flying in literally every direction. Dozens of warbirds were hit by these powerless weapons whose only purpose was to reveal the Romulan threat. In the same instance those warbirds that were already exposed continued to pummel the defiant Korylx mercilessly. Once several more warbirds had been exposed Rakln tapped a command which replaced the volleying charges with torpedoes that struck at these new foes and hit them right where Rakln had intended; their cloaking devices. As these vessels appeared on the screen, unable to keep up their shroud any longer, they too decided to fire upon the Breen vessel that had so quickly and so painfully became a pest.
In desperation Zelbreghn shifted his gaze from the viewscreen to the stoic general. A quick nod came from Rakln which signaled his readiness to depart this chaos that had been born of his hand. "Now!" Zelbreghn shouted as he turned back to his helm officer, who quickly responded by entering in the engage command. With a hard lurch the Korylx's violent shaking ceased as it jumped into warp.
Silence made itself known as each of the officers on the bridge felt the need to take a moment's breath and let themselves grow calm in this wake after so much chaos had threatened their lives. "Are the Romulans following us?" Zelbreghn asked of Rakln as he stared at the mighty general. An odd thing then occurred, and as the two commanding officers stared at each other in the silence time itself seemed to freeze. For an untold stretch time held still in this matter and neither man knew quite what to think about it. Then suddenly with a jolt, time returned to normal and Zelbreghn's question was answered by a new impact of weapons fire. Wherever the fire ended up hitting was of no consequence to Zelbreghn. What was of consequence to him though was its result, and that result was the tactical console suddenly exploding and Rakln's body being suddenly tossed with a crushing thud into a nearby bulkhead.
"General!" Zelbreghn shouted as he rushed to the aide of his fallen superior. The moment his eyes laid open Rakln's body his mind knew it was grim. It whispered that Rakln would soon be dead, if not so already. Despite this, Zelbreghn still rushed over and cradled the general's broken body in his arms.
"Zelbreghn," Rakln suddenly said with a cough of blood as he gripped the commander's arm.
"It's okay sir," Zelbreghn said as he tried to calm Rakln in his final moments. "Just rest for a moment and you'll be fine."
"Promise...promise me something...Zelbreghn," Rakln said with apparent difficulty as his soul began to pull away from its broken body and his mortal mind began to grow dim.
"Forty-five seconds until rift perimeter," the helmsman shouted to anyone that could still listen.
"What sir?" Zelbreghn choked out, sounding almost exactly like Rakln. His words were hindered though for a whole different reason. They were hindered by emotion, and the feeling of loss that began to take hold of him as he gripped the failing body of a true hero to the Breen people.
"Promise...promise that you will hold back the night...Promise that these Romulans...will not defile our world...and promise...that you will destroy theirs."
"On the name of the Holy Matriarch Pendrya, I promise this too you oh holy and noble warrior of the Breen people."
"It was...an honor...Zelbreghn," with this final praise Rakln's body gave into one final spasm of pain before it went limp in Zelbreghn's arms and the stoic General Rakln lay dead.
Gripping onto Rakln's body for a moment Zelbreghn forced himself to swallow hard and bury any emotions that Rakln's death was causing him. Gently he laid the general's body down upon a pile of debris just as a new explosion came from the helm station behind him. A shard of debris from this explosion came flying at the grieving commander and struck him squarely in the back of the head. While his durable helmet took the brunt of this impact, there was still enough force behind it to cause a great deal of pain to Zelbreghn's head. Collapsing backwards he grabbed his head and gave a scream that could have easily been born of either physical or emotional pain.
Lying there as his mind began to slip into unconsciousness his frantic eyes searched the smashed room around him. From what he could see there was not a soul left alive on the bridge, though it was hard to tell through all of the thick smoke. Unwilling to go so quietly into the darkness his mind beckoned, he struggled to focus his view on the screen. Through a thick layer of smoke that was followed by an equally thick layer of static Zelbreghn could just barely make out the green backdrop that made up the Bassen Rift and he could just barely make out a swarm of Breen warships as they opened fire upon their unwitting Romulan prey. They had succeeded. He and Rakln had succeeded, and now the Romulans would pay dearly. Oh how they would pay dearly in the end. With this vow, and a vow that he would suffer no more losses at their hands, a peaceful smile rested itself upon his lips as he finally gave his wounded head it's only desire, and slipped into a pit of black unconsciousness.