Star Trek: Fortitude
Episode Four: “War”
By Jack D. Elmlinger
PROLOGUE
“So then, what did you do?”
The entire Bridge of the USS Fortitude was in a jovial mood. For several days, they had been charted a Class-Seven nebula that was bigger than anything in the Starfleet database, and while it was hardly edge-of-your-seat work, exploring was exploring no matter which way you looked at it. Thanks to the slow pace, the crew had started to enjoy some downtime, and the holodecks aboard the Intrepid-class starship were finally being used on a regular basis.
Lieutenant Arden Vuro had just returned from a program recommended to him by Ensign Jason Armstrong. It was a recreation of an old 21st century Earth action B-movie, specifically featuring a furious automobile chase through a darkened city.
“I pressed the wrong pedal,” lamented the Bolian helmsman,” and I ended up lurching forward into a storefront. I don't know who to be more afraid of.”
“What do you mean?,” asked Captain Ewan Llewellyn, who was enjoying the banter.
“The store’s owner appeared to be wielding some kind of projectile weapon! I was forced to incapacitate him before one of the terrorists that was chasing me managed to hit my shoulder with a stray bullet. The program ended, just at that point.”
“The hero never gets shot, Arden,” Jason laughed from his station. “As soon as that holographic bullet registered a hit, the credits rolled, my friend.”
“Next time, we swap holo-programs, Ensign,” Vuro scowled in mock frustration. “I’m sending you to the acidic lakes of Bolarus IX for a spot of eel fishing.”
“I’ll pack you a burn kit, Jason, don’t worry,” comforted Commander Valerie Archer.
Another witty reply from the young operations officer was halted when he registered an incoming transmission. It was coded private, with a clearance level that he had never heard about before. Double-checking his display, he reported it.
“Captain, you have an Alpha-Priority communique from Starbase 499.”
“Alpha-priority? Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Patch it through to my Ready Room,” Ewan ordered with concern.
ACT ONE
Captain’s Log, Stardate 49011.8;
I have just been informed that the Federation space station, Deep Space Nine, in the Alpha Quadrant, has been attacked by a Klingon task force. While nothing has officially been decided by Starfleet Commander, as a starship captain, I have been immediately informed of any potential dangers that might threaten Starfleet.
Rear Admiral Blackmore and I have spoken, at length, and we believe that this might be the start of another war. Once again, we find ourselves at the point of a bat’leth on the galactic stage.
Ewan Llewellyn was beginning to wonder if he had spent every hour of his days, sitting in the Briefing Room with his senior staff. It was certainly beginning to look that way, based on the mission so far. Once again, he found himself with Valerie, Jason, Sollik, and Vuro sitting before him, all of them drinking coffee after having been woken up at 04:00 to discuss the sudden change in their orders from Edward Blackmore.
“Chancellor Gowron was planning an invasion of Cardassian space,” he relayed to his officers, bringing them up to speed. “Deep Space Nine was where the Klingon fleet decided to show up, claiming to be supporting the Federation against the possible Dominion threat that we’ve all heard the scare story about on the news. In reality, they were going after Cardassia Prime.”
“Why not let them?,” Armstrong asked him, his grasp of interstellar politics far from grounded in maturity. “We’re not exactly best friends with the Cardassians.”
“Ensign,” Archer chastised him under her breath.
“It’s all right, Commander,” Llewellyn said, holding up his hand. “Ensign, the war would have been unjust. It was based on rumors and unfounded accusations against the ruling powers of the Cardassian Union. Yes, we’re not best friends with them, but as Starfleet officers, we can’t stand by while they’re being slaughtered in cold blood for no reason.”
“We, sir?,” Sollik chipped in. “We weren’t there! You mean to say that it was a Starfleet officer who started all of this? Who interfered?”
“Yes, it was,” nodded Ewan. “Captain Benjamin Sisko used that little ship of his, the USS Defiant, to enter Cardassian space and rescue the Cardassian leaders who were under attack by Klingon forces. During the rescue, the Klingons fired upon the Defiant, and there we have it, ladies and gentlemen… the spark of war. Although I’ll remind you that nothing official has been declared yet. At the moment, Rear Admiral Blackmore is called it an ‘abandonment of diplomacy and increasing tensions along our borders.’ I’m going along with that for now as well. I don’t want to hear mutterings of war on the lower decks, got it?”
Everybody nodded with sincere agreement.
“I used to know Captain Sisko back at Utopia Planitia,” the Captain began to conclude,” and I got his job when he left the Starship Design Corps. He’s a good man. At least, in his judgment. I’m not bitter about this but it does complicate our mission.”
“We’ve got new orders, haven’t we?” This question came from Valerie who, once again, was completely in-tune with the tone of her commanding officer.
“Indeed. Lieutenant Vuro, reverse course. We’re heading back to Starbase 499 a little early this time. You’ll remember that we had to slip past Klingon space to get out here in that first week? Well, while everyone believes that the Klingon fleet will be aiming towards the Alpha Quadrant, we’re very close to their border. Being the remote outpost at the edge of Federation territory might have an advantage but it also means that we’re stuck behind a wall, and it’s a wall that could start shooting at us, any day now.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Armstrong asked him, disappointed that his first ever exploration adventure was cut short,” isn’t that why we spent all of that time on retrofitting the Steamrunner? So we could go and do our own thing?”
“They’ve got the hardware, but no experienced crews,” Ewan reminded him. “At the very least, Commander Archer will be able to draw up a few tactical plans to keep the Birds of Prey at bay.”
“Oh, please…” Archer sheepishly bowed her head, trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. She got a little laugh. So, at least, this time, she had succeeded.
* * * *
It was a welcome sight, even if it was an early one.
Coming out of warp, the Fortitude unfolded her nacelles and dropped to impulse power, heading directly for the spinning jewel that was Starbase 499.
It looked like an oversized Christmas tree decoration for some reason and Llewellyn decided that it was because he had yet to see the massive structure from a distance. Here it was, without the debris field and battle damage that he had seen when he first arrived. He was not able to take in the full glory of the Santrag System like a visitor to an art gallery who was stepping back to view a painting.
His negative emotions about turning back from his mission were starting to lift. Besides, this would give him the chance to save lives, and that would make him feel slightly better after his first major discovery turned out to be a ruthless enemy species.
Within minutes, Fortitude had entered into a synchronous orbit with 499 and it only took a few more seconds for Llewellyn and Archer to beam over to the Station Master’s Office. With a smile that was more forced than natural, Erica Martinez met them both.
“Welcome back,” she almost whispered. “The Rear Admiral is waiting for you, Captain Llewellyn. You know where to go by now, right? Commander Archer, I was wondering if you could help me with this tactical scenario that I’ve been running.”
“Sure, no problem,” Archer responded immediately.
“Have fun, ladies,” smiled Llewellyn, heading towards the corridor that led him back to his superior officer’s office once more.
Edward Blackmore was found underneath a pile of status reports and long-range scans. His office had transformed into a hectic organization of chaos literally overnight. One monitor in the corner played the Federation News Network on constant repeat, in case there were any new developments forthcoming. Before so remote, Santrag II would probably watch a breaking story before Blackmore was informed by the Admiralty top brass.
“No change, then, Boxer?,” Ewan greeted the older man, stepping over a pile of discarded PADDs on the floor.
“Oh, Ewan, welcome back,” came the rear admiral’s reply. “I didn’t even realize that you would have gotten here so soon. You made good time.”
“What is the point in having a top speed of Warp Nine-point-Nine if you don’t try it out once in a while? Besides, I was genuinely concerned about this situation. I’ve bumped into a few Klingons in my time and I know what they’re like. You’re a bit of a sitting duck here, if you can forgive the analogy.”
“Forgiven, my boy. Take a seat, if you can find one.”
Moving towards a vacant chair, Ewan was stopped short of actually sitting down by the voice of Station Master Erica Martinez’s voice coming from the overhead intercom. She was asking for Blackmore, and without even looking up from his work, he tapped his combadge and growled a reply to go ahead. The captain wanted to wait and see what this was about, and he had a bad feeling about the urgency that he could hear in the Latina’s voice.
“Sir, long-range sensors have detected two Klingon Birds-of-Prey on an intercept course,” she reported. “They’re traveling at maximum warp and they’ll be here in less than ten minutes.”
Almost jumping to his feet, the Rear Admiral headed right for the door, surprising Ewan for someone of his age as he motioned for the captain to follow him.
“Oh, hell…!”
ACT TWO
Barrelling into the Station Master’s Office, Rear Admiral Blackmore stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at the viewscreen in dismay. There they were, two Klingon Birds-of-Prey, and they were heading right for them. Designed to intimidate, their wings were certainly doing their jobs, held high above the main body of the craft like they were claws waiting to strike.
Standing behind his superior officer and joined by Valerie Archer in short order, Llewellyn wasted little time. In one fluid motion, he tapped his combadge.
“Llewellyn to Fortitude,” he called out. “There are two Klingon vessels on an intercept course for the system. Move to intercept but stay on the defensive only.”
“Understood, sir,” replied the voice of Lieutenant Vuro.
“Valerie, beam back to Fortitude and take command. We’ll hail them from here, but be ready to executive any order in an instant. Got it?”
“Good luck, Captain,” she nodded,” and remember that these are Klingons that we’re dealing with here. Project when you talk.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Ewan grinned.
As Commander Archer disappeared in the glow of a transporter beam, he walked over to an empty LCARS terminal and activated a sensor grid. It was work that was usually far beneath someone of his rank. However, given the circumstances, he didn’t particularly mind taking orders from Blackmore.
He watched the two Birds-of-Prey drop to impulse as soon as they saw Fortitude moving slowly towards them. Using 499’s more powerful sensor grid, he began taking scans and analyzing them for any weaknesses.
“They’ve raised shields and charged weapons,” he called out. “It looks like they’re preparing to strike. Llewellyn to Fortitude! Battle Stations!”
“Already on it, Captain,” his First Officer reassured him from the Bridge. “Just say the word and we’ll get the drop on them.”
“Hold on. The lead Klingon Bird-of-Prey is hailing us. Llewellyn out.”
“Put it up on the screen, Ewan,” Rear Admiral Blackmore ordered as his face betrayed his concern.
The viewscreen instantly changed to reveal the scowled head and armored shoulders of a Klingon warrior. Everybody in the Station Master’s Officer, from Blackmore to the lowest crewmen working on the subsystems along the rear wall, turned to see what was happening and they had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing.
It was a Klingon boy who didn’t look much older than thirteen Earth years.
“I am Kaar'taQ, son of Gra’gh! Surrender before we destroy your puny starship and take your starbase for the glory of the Klingon Empire!”
“Nice to meet you, Kaar'taQ, son of Gra’gh,” Blackmore barked back at him, rubbing the grey stubble across his chin and leaning back against one of the consoles behind him as he adopted a mock-serious tone. “I’m Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore of Starbase 499, and in the name of the United Federation of Planets, I demand to be told if your parents know if you’re up past your bedtime!”
Llewellyn shot him a look, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head to one side. Blackmore saw it, smiled, and returned his gaze to the Klingon child on the viewscreen.
“Pathetic Humans!,” growled Kaar'taQ, the rage inside of him uncontrollable. “If you wish to die in battle at my command, then so be it! This will be a day long remembered by my people! Songs will be sung in my name and mock yours in the same breath!”
“Son,” the Rear Admiral tried to reason with him,” I don’t know what you wish to accomplish with your little stunt…”
“Silence! My people have ended our peace with the Federation. I intend to prove my worth as a Klingon warrior by striking the first blows of war!”
“He’s locked disruptors on my ship,” Ewan observed, calling out from behind his sensor station and drawing the attention of 499’s crew. “He’s preparing to fire!”
“This is bloody ridiculous,” sighed Blackmore.
* * * *
Diving in sequence, the Klingon Birds-of-Prey darted towards the Fortitude as their hawkish wings lowered down into attack formation. On the Bridge of the Intrepid-class starship, the crew immediately grabbed a hold of any support that they could find and it was a wish precaution. The first volley of disruptor fire struck the shields around the saucer section. The second volley weakened the engineering hull shields by thirty percent.
As the deck beneath their feet shook under the force of the attack, Archer lurched forward and leaned over the helm, staring in shock at Lieutenant Vuro. The viewscreen showed the Klingons complete their attack run before beginning a long, slow swoop to return.
“Somebody’s had a bit too much bloodwine,” she commented dryly. “Fortitude to Starbase 499. Captain, our shields are holding but they’re packing quite a punch. I’m hoping that you’re going to give me some retaliatory orders here!”
“Stand by, Commander,” Llewellyn replied over the communications system. “The vessels are under the command of a Klingon child. Neither Rear Admiral Blackmore or I are prepared to risk destroying them and killing a delusional kid.”
“What do you propose, sir?,” she instantly retorted. “Either we do something or this kid’s tantrum is going to start causing some real problems.”
“Remodulate the main deflector dish to generate a tachyon pulse,” the Captain ordered after having come up with a plan. “Fire on my command. We’re only going to have a few seconds while we resets his shield harmonics! If all of this goes well, that should be your part in this little juvenile disciplinary action finished.”
“Understood,” agreed Valerie, her tactical mind realizing and approving the unorthodox, yet very clever plan. “Just keep in mind what I said about projecting, sir. Especially in person.”
“Got it. Qapla, Commander!”
“Oh, very funny, Captain. Fortitude out.”
* * * *
“She had better be a damn good shot,” muttered Blackmore.
“Don’t worry, Boxer, she is,” he reassured his superior. “I wouldn’t have chosen her to be my First Officer if she wasn’t, would I?”
“Well, here’s hoping that you made the right choice. The Klingons are starting their second attack run. It’s not or never!”
“Llewellyn to Fortitude. Stand by… and FIRE!”
All of the elements worked perfectly in conjunction with one another. Vuro skillfully managed to flip Fortitude over onto her back, exposing the main deflector dish and aiming it directly at the lead Bird-of-Prey. The tachyon pulse fired, a second later, with a bolt of pure blue energy smashing into their shields and destabilizing their harmonics.
As they remodulated to compensate for the strike, Llewellyn grinned with satisfaction as he activated 499’s transporter beam. Within three seconds of the plan being executed, Kaar'taQ was standing in the Station Master’s Officer, his weapons holster empty and his face was full of shock and somewhat frightened. For a Klingon, anyways.
“This is a cowardly attack!,” he shouted, his teenage vocal cords not quite broken in at his age. “You will all burn in Gre’thor for this outrage!”
“Jolly good,” Ewan replied, stepping forward in defiance. “As you’re here, we might as well have a little chat. You see, I don’t think your attack on the Santrag System and this starbase has been sanctioned by the Empire, has it? Hmm? Yes, it’s true that your people and mine aren’t exactly getting along right now, but an act of war? Has it really come this far?”
“What I do is for my own glory and the glory of the Empire!”
“What you’ve done is desperately try to prove your worth as a warrior by stealing a couple of Birds-of-Preys and shooting anything that moves. Your timing couldn’t be better, by the way. Top marks on that one.”
With a growl of rage and adolescent misdirection, Kaar'taQ surged forward, fully intending to rip out Llewellyn’s heart out with his bare hands. Hitting the force field that he had been confined behind, he staggered backwards and almost lost his balance.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to mention that.” Ewan sighed, enjoying his position of authority over a Klingon, child or not. It was a rare thing to have.
“My enemy thinks he’s clever!,” Kaar'taQ spat back, seething with anger.
“I’m not your enemy. If I were, I would have ordered my ship to destroy your ships as soon as you had opened fire. Take a look at that viewscreen. Can you see that? That’s the USS Steamrunner, just scrambled out of this starbase. We now outgun your Birds-of-Prey, at lease, five to one, but despite all of this, I’m going to beam you back to your Bridge and let you leave because I’m not your enemy.”
“I would rather die in battle!”
“I know you would but that’s not going to happen today. Today, you get to go home. There would be no glory in your death here. You’re young. You have yet to become a proper warrior. Surely, there would be more honor and glory in growing up and serving the Empire with distinction on the battlefield?”
Kaar'taQ’s dark brown eyes flicked and Ewan could see that he was getting through to him. It felt like he was defusing a ticking bomb and so far, he had cut all of the right wires. The final closing gambit would be to beam him back to his ship; a show of good faith
Would good faith work with a Klingon>
Not normally, but then again, this was just a kid. Llewellyn could see it in those dark eyes. He didn’t want to die here in battle.
Not today.
Moving as close to the force field as he dared. Kaar’taQ leaned towards him, his face shaking with the rage inside of him. “The next time that we meet, Federation,” he growled,” it will be in battle, and I will gut you with my own bat’leth.”
“Be sure to call ahead,” the captain concluded with a cheeky remark. “I’ll make a space for you in my schedule. Do have a safe trip home now.”
ACT THREE
Captain’s Log, supplemental;
The two Klingon Birds-of Prey that we encountered have returned to their borders without much fuss. The damage to the Fortitude was hardly worth noting, but what is worthy of note is the attitude that the news from Deep Space Nine has provoked in this region. My own officers and crew are already on edge about a possible coming war with the Klingon Empire, and the recent incident seemed to have validated their concerns.
At least, in their eyes.
The worrying thing is, I can see exactly where they’re coming from.
It was his first visit to the Mess Hall since coming aboard. He had been using the private dining room affording to the captain of the ship but with it being adjacent to the expansive Mess Hall, and with the knowledge that his crew was eating and chatting within an arm’s reach, Llewellyn couldn’t focus on his meal. Picking up his coffee, he decided to go and check on the pulse of crew morale.
As soon as he walked in, a young Ensign from the lower decks spotted the four pips and whispered to his colleagues. Suddenly the entire room was standing to attention. With an almost embarrassed expression on his face, Ewan motioned for them to return to their seats and carry on with eating, drinking, and talking.
“As you were, people,” he grumbled. “Surprise inspection is next week. Whoops, I really shouldn’t have told you that.”
There was laughter as Lieutenant Commander Sollik emerged from the crowds, stepping forward to greet his captain. He looked refreshed and energized. Suliban had a rather more powerful reaction to caffeine than Humans ever did. Those Suliban who had entered Starfleet were discovering the joys of certain loaded beverages.
“Good evening, sir,” he welcomed him through yellow teeth. “Is there something wrong with your private dining room? I can have a team down here within minutes.”
“No, no, Sollik, I just… felt like taking a stroll. Tell me, you’re a department head. How are your people down in Main Engineering reacting to this Klingon business? I mean, after all of that stuff with the End, it looks like we’re caught between a rock and a hard place out here, wouldn’t you say?”
“Captain, I can assure you that the crew will do their duties…”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Ewan interrupted him, hearing the pre-prepared answer from his Chief Engineer and expecting something a little more personal. “I was just wondering about crew morale. We don’t have a counselor aboard but Starbase 499 has three of them. Do I need to start shipping my crew over there?”
Sollik finally got where his captain was going with their conversation and he gave him a reassuring nod before he gave him an honest answer this time. “I won’t lie,” he whispered, being polite amongst so many crew members eating their dinners and clearly listening in as to why two senior officers were chatting in such a manner at this hour. “I’ve seen more upbeat officers in my time. However, calling the counselors from 499 is premature, sir. You once told me that you have faith. Well, if I may say so, your crew has an abundance of it. Not only in the politicians and the starships that will decide future events, but in you. We will survive.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Llewellyn smiled, patting his shoulder with thanks. “Now, get back to relaxing. That’s an order.”
* * * *
On Starbase 499 while enjoying the view overlooking the glistening Class-M world that was Santrag II, Erica Martinez finished her own dinner and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Across the table from her, Rear Admiral Blackmore dabbed his mouth with a napkin and turned to take in the view himself. With a grin, he moved his water glass up to his mouth, firing off an observation before taking a sip.
“Never gets old, does it?”
“Nope,” Erica agreed, lost in the view. “It sure doesn’t.”
“Do you think we’ll be okay out here?”
That question took the Station Master by surprise. Tearing her eyes away from the planet below them, she leaned back towards the table and turned her attention to the man in the red-and-black admiral’s uniform.
“Sir?”
“We’ve never had problems of this scale before, Erica,” Blackmore answered, his age playing a part in his pessimism. “In such a short space of time, we’ve been attacked and discovered a new alien threat out there on the unexplored frontier, and as soon as we do, the Klingons start making noise. We’re practically cut off from the rest of Starfleet. We survive on our own, but will we for much longer?”
“I believe we will,” came the truthful answer.
“Cannons to the left of them,” Blackmore started to recite from memory,” cannons to the right of them. Cannons in front of them, volleyed and thundered…”
“Old poem?”
“Something like that.”
They shared a moment of reflective silence. They knew each other very well and both of them had been serving together since the beginning of this assignment and the signing of the Federation Charter by the Santragan Prime Minister. They were both thinking the same thing but neither of them didn’t dare voice it aloud. They liked Llewellyn. It wasn’t like he was a bad guy or anything. As Blackmore has said, he was definitely their kind of people, but in one seemingly fluid motion, they had gained two modern, powerful starships and a new mandate to reach out and touch the void of the unknown.
It made them uneasy.
Regardless of the face that Starbase 499 had been attacked long before Ewan’s arrival and regardless of the fact that Klingon politics had nothing to do with either of them, they both shared the same thought.
What new terrors would the USS Fortitude drag back home next time?
EPILOGUE
Sleep had refreshed him, despite that it came in fits and spurts.
“Come in!”
Looking up from his morning status reports, Ewan Llewellyn watched Valerie Archer enter his Ready Room, holding a PADD. Frowning since he thought that he had all of the reports already, he motioned for her to sit down but she remained standing.
“What’s up?”
“I thought you might like to know,” she told him, extending the PADD for him to take it and read,” that the sensor network aboard 499 monitored a small altercation along the Klingon border last night. When Kaar’taQ returned the two Klingon Birds-of-Prey to his own territory, they were attacked and destroyed. No survivors from either ship.”
“Who attacked them?”
“A small defense force of Klingon D7-class cruisers. He was murdered, sir, for stealing the vessels and going rogue.”
Ewan was reading the data in front of him as his first officer spoke. Both sources of information assaulted him, and his head started to ache almost immediately. He knew what this had all added up to.
He wasn’t stupid.
Either way, Kaar’taQ was going to die, either honorably in battle or dishonorably as punishment. In sending him home, he had sealed his fate. Normally, it wouldn’t be his problem or his concern, but he was too compassionate for that. Perhaps it was his greatest failing as a leader.
“Thank you, Commander,” he finally replied. “That will be all.”
The End...