Star Trek: Fortitude
Episode One: “This Corner of Space.”
By Jack Elmlinger
PROLOGUE
2372
The Beta Quadrant: the forgotten corner of the Galaxy, or so people joked.
With all of the recent political excitement in the United Federation of Planets, many worlds had shifted their attention away from the Beta Quadrant. Many species had forgotten that it was home to dozens of important galactic races.
All of the excitement was happening in the Alpha Quadrant. With the discovery of the first-stable wormhole in Bajoran space, tensions were mounting between the galactic powers and nobody cared about the Beta Quadrant anymore. It was tragic for the Starfleet personnel stationed there.
Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore gazed out across the stars before him with a sigh. He didn’t like this view and he preferred it when Starbase 499 rotated so that his office was facing the gorgeous Class-M world below. It reminded him of Earth, but nowhere, faced with blank space, he was alone with his thoughts.
It was lonely out here. Starbase 499 was one of the most extreme-range Federation outposts that one could ever hope to find. Positioned right on the edge of the Beta Quadrant, overlooking vast unknown chunks of the Galaxy with the impending sense of dread that some day, something horrible would come forth and reveal itself.
Blackmore shuddered at the thought. He wouldn’t trade this assignment for anything else in Starfleet. Not a chance. He was in command of his own starbase, and this far from Earth, he was free to manage his own little collective family. They even had a few old starships for company.
The planet below the starbase, Santrag II, was a beautiful world. The people were Humanoids known to be friendly, warm, and inviting. They had been made members of the Federation quickly, in exchange for the promise of a starbase in orbit of their world. It was a relationship of mutual benefit. Almost like a symbiosis that Blackmore valued highly.
Something broke his thoughts. There was a light in space beyond the bulkhead. It was a light that didn’t belong to any star.
And it was growing.
“Blackmore to Martinez,” the old man growled after tapping his combadge. “Direct your sensors to … coordinates 347 by 114.”
“What am I looking for, Admiral?” a female voice answered from out of nowhere.
“You’ll see it. What is it?”
“I’m not sure. Hold on. I’ll try increasing the sensor resolution.”
Little did he know, at that point in time, that the incoming light was going to change the nature of his assignment forever. Upon hearing what Station Master Erica Martinez had to report, Blackmore’s eyes went wide with fear.
ACT ONE
Captain’s log, stardate 48531.2;
Under orders from Starfleet Command, I am taking my new command for her first deep-space assignment within the Beta Quadrant. I wanted this mission to be under better circumstances, but to all intents and purposes, this will be a rescue mission. I’m told that there is no better test for a new ship and crew, but I can’t help but wish that I have been given something a little easier to do during my first week in command.
The door chimes rang and he paused the log entry for now.
“Enter.”
Stepping into the Captain’s Ready Room, Commander Valerie Archer made an immediate impression on him. She always did, and that was one of the main reasons why she had been made the First Officer of the USS Fortitude. Smiling the warm, charming smile that he always told himself that he would, Captain Ewan Llewellyn motioned for her to take a seat across the desk from him.
“Captain,” she acknowledged with a nod and a slight smile in return as she sat down. “You asked me to report right away?”
“Yes, Commander, but please, call me Ewan.”
That request caught her off-guard. Ewan Llewellyn was a young Starfleet captain and this was his first command. She had expected something a little more laid back from the handsome thirty-something Welshman, but not first name terms on the first day. She decided to play along. After all, he was the Captain.
“Only if you call me Valerie, sir,” was her reply.
“It’s a deal. I wanted to inform you of Starfleet’s orders. I mean, I know that you’ll have read the mission brief, but there’s more than meets the eye to this one.”
“Oh?”
“What do you know?”
“Our orders are to proceed to the Santrag system at maximum warp to render assistance to Starbase 499. We got rushed out of spacedock pretty darn quickly, Ewan, that Fortitude is barely finished. I’ve got engineering teams doing what the assembly teams at Utopia Planitia should have finished.”
Captain Llewellyn leaned back in his chair. It was all true, he had to admit. They were somewhat rushed because Intrepid-class starships were all a premium these days. Loaded with all of the most up-to-date systems, the assembly teams were notoriously protective of them before they let anyone take them out into the final frontier. Fortitude was different and under the most classified orders from Admiral Owen Paris at Starfleet Command, the ship had been launched, three days early.
“We got pushed out of those space doors early for a reason, Valerie,” Ewan admitted to her. “What isn’t a part of the regular mission briefing is that Starbase 499 was attacked by an unknown alien entity. We’re talking the edge of known space here, Commander. Beyond Santrag II, we simply don’t know what’s out there. Well, beyond what our sensors can tell us but I don’t have to remind you of their limitations.”
“A rescue mission, then?” Archer’s eyebrows rose as she spoke.
“I want them to be prepared. It won’t make me a popular captain, but I want to run a few battle drills as soon as possible. I don’t know what we’ll be facing out there.”
Ewan’s new First Officer stood from her seat, her red-capped shoulders arching backwards with pride in her duty and anticipation of the unknown. The smile returned, despite the circumstances, and she parted with one of her trademark observations that her Academy sponsor had warned everybody about.
“That’s what we all signed on for, Captain.”
* * * *
Lieutenant Commander Sollik was having a crisis of confidence.
Lying in Sickbay under the watchful eyes of the Vulcan Chief Medical Officer, Doctor T’Verra, and her trusted, but yet untried Nurse, Lynn Boswell, he recoiled in unwarranted fear. His mottled green skin was being repaired by a dermal regenerator, a completely harmless process, and yet for some reason, he was, to say the least, apprehensive. The Vulcan woman appeared to be about fifty Earth years old. Her hair was still jet-black and her skin was only now showing signs of age.
Maybe it’s just Sickbay, he reasoned to himself.
“Your fear is illogical,” was the obvious statement from T’Verra. “Your injury is superficial. I have found your people to be most resistant to such wounds.”
“I’ll be sure to let all Suliban know of your findings, Doctor,” Sollik mumbled sarcastically, wishing that the procedure could be done with. He was desperate to return to Engineering. He had work to do, after all.
“What exactly happened again?” Nurse Boswell, an attractive young woman born and raised in the Martian Colonies, asked him.
“It’s these damned battle drills! How am I supposed to run Engineering as Chief Engineer if every hour, we have to put down our tools and play war games? We got the worst deal when this ship was rushed out of space dock. We’re the ones finishing their jobs!”
“You did not answer the question,” noted the Vulcan doctor.
Sollik rolled his blazing yellow eyes in frustration at the unceasing Vulcan logic. “I wasn’t paying attention while we were recalibrating a plasma manifold. A member of my team was making a mistake and when I turned to tell him, I lost concentration. The next thing I know… well, boom.”
“Boom, indeed. Your wound is healed.”
The Chief Engineer slid away from the biobed and gingerly tried standing. Satisfied with the result, he thought about thanking the Doctor and her nurse but decided against it. He was far too busy to be nice about anything. He was about to leave Sickbay when the lights dimmed. A klaxon shouted and the Sickbay was bathed in crimson light.
“Now what…? Another drill?!”
“Red Alert! All hands, this is the Captain. We are approaching Starbase 499. To your stations!”
* * * *
“Lifesigns?”
Behind the Captain’s chair on the Bridge, Ensign Jason Armstrong furiously worked at his operations console. Eager to prove his worth on his first mission, the young man was a long way from his father’s farm in Kentucky. The image on the viewscreen had almost sent him into shock. Ahead of them, rotating in orbit above Santrag II was Starbase 499. It had taken a beating. Debris was spinning in all directions, still after almost a day since the initial attack. There were a handful of Santragian vessels trying desperately to lend a hand but they weren’t equipped for a full-scale rescue like this.
“There are approximately one thousand people still aboard, Captain. They’re alive for now. Life-support is holding.”
“Okay, I guess we should be thankful for small blessings,” Valerie Archer nodded, getting to her feet. “Helm, move us in closer. Watch out for that debris.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
At the helm console, Lieutenant Arden Vuro, a Bolian, skillfully steered the Intrepid-class USS Fortitude through the wreckage, bringing the ship alongside Starbase 499 for the ease of transport and the subtlety of location.
“Their communications system is down,” Jason reported. “I can’t get a message across.”
Still seated, Captain Llewellyn nodded, his fingers arched in contemplation. So we’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way? No problem.
“Away team to Transporter Room One.”
ACT TWO
Starbase 499 was in ruins. There was no illumination, and the bulkheads were ripped open by energy surges, leaving sparking ODN relays exposed. In the darkness, using palm beacons, repair crews graciously accepted the assistance of the Santragian equipment as they worked long and difficult hours to get the systems back up and running. One particular focus of such attention was the Station Master’s Office. It was basically the starbase equivalent of a starship bridge and while the work was dangerous in one corner, thanks to a ruptured conduit, now more than half of the LCARS consoles were working again. In the middle of the chaos, providing a brief few seconds of light, a transporter beam delivered four humanoid figures on the deck.
Captain Ewan Llewellyn surveyed the damage with a grim expression. In his time, he had only seen a few combat situations. His assignments had always seemed to be less deadly and less exciting than most officers. Well, not anymore.
Joined by Valerie Archer, Jason Armstrong, and Sollik, they ignited their own palm beacons and started to move through the wreckage strewn across the office.
“Who the hell are you?” a voice called out to them.
Turning, the Fortitude away team came face-to-face with a tall, beautiful Latina woman in a Starfleet uniform.
Ewan stepped forward. “I’m Captain Ewan Llewellyn of the starship Fortitude. We’re here under orders direct from Admiral Owen Paris to render aid after your distress signal.”
“Station Master Erica Martinez,” the woman sighed, giving him a very short, curt handshake before turning away. “As you can see, we’ve got our hands full, so just have your people dive in wherever you can. Captain Llewellyn, there’s somebody who’ll have to speak with you. Follow me, please.”
Before he left the mess of the Station Master’s office, Ewan leaned over to his away team and whispered a few parting orders. “Sollik, organize repair teams and get the lights working first. Maybe it would help if people could see what they’re doing around here. Valerie, you’re partnered with Station Master Mendoza when she gets back from… wherever we’re going. Ensign Armstrong, you heard the lady. Dive in.”
“Got it, Captain.”
“Good luck!”
* * * *
Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore stood alone. Thankfully, his office was mostly intact, following the assault on the starbase. As the door rang a familiar chime behind him, he turned his weathered face only slightly. He was preoccupied with his thoughts again, staring out across the debris field that floated past his window.
“Enter.”
Martinez wasn’t sticking around. “Captain Llewellyn of the Fortitude, sir. I’ll be heading back.”
The door slid shut behind the Station Master’s no-nonsense posture as she literally marched away to tend to the repairs. Left alone with the Rear Admiral, Ewan stepped forward slowly, guessing that it wouldn’t be exactly fitting to stand on ceremony and he was right. Blackmore wasn’t interested in Starfleet procedure. He finally turned away from the window and surveyed the thirty-something captain with the narrow eyes of experience.
“I’ll cut straight to the point, Llewellyn,” he barked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You weren’t made aware of our dispatch?” Ewan frowned.
“No! We haven’t directly communicated with Starfleet Command for years. Damn it, that distress call was the closest that we’ve ever come to calling home! We’re too far out for such things. This, son, is the edge of known space… the real Final Frontier. I’ll tell you something else. Your presence isn’t required.”
“Forgive me, Admiral, but it doesn’t look that way to me.”
“One day, you’ll learn, son. One day, you’ll understand, but right now, I suggest you take that fancy starship of yours and leave.”
Ewan walked forward, even further, joining Blackmore at the window. It only took him a second to pick out the right star. He had been a stellar cartographer aboard the USS Hood, several years ago and it was his first true passion. Pointing, he drew Blackmore’s attention. The older man frowned, not understanding where the Englishman was going with this one.
“With all due respect, sir, do you see that star?”
“What about it?”
“That’s the halfway point between here and Earth. This is my first command. I’ve been pushed out of Spacedock early and thrown aboard a brand-new ship that I don’t even understand myself yet. I’ve got an untested crew and I’ve dragged them all this way at breakneck speed to assist you in repairs and repel whatever unknown force caused this mess. I had to sneak past the Romulan Star Empire and skip a corner of Klingon space to get here, endangering ourselves in the process. So again, I stress this with all due respect, I’m not leaving.”
“I could order you.” And it was true. It would be a binding order of dismissal.
“Then you’d have to court-martial me too, Admiral.”
There was a somber silence between both men. It formed a thick atmosphere in the air. Blackmore was sizing Ewan up, and likewise, the captain was analyzing his superior officer. There was only one conclusion to reach, based on that little speech, and it was finally made after a good thirty seconds of silence.
“Ha, ha… I like you, Llewellyn. You’re my kind of people. Ballsy… You remind me of a younger me.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“The truth is, we don’t know who attacked us or why. We only have two starships assigned to this starbase and they’re old, useless. An Oberth and a Miranda, and whoever attacked us were good… fast and deadly. If you’re going to stick around, why not make your assignment here permanent? We could always use an Intrepid.”
Ewan was taken aback by the sudden offer. It was as if Admiral Blackmore had known him for years like they were old friends. He had some fast thinking to do.
“Right now, why don’t we focus on getting 499 back together?,” he finally suggested, sidestepping the difficult decision until later. “Then we’ll talk about future orders. If, of course, that’s okay, sir?”
“Drop the sir, Llewellyn. My friends call me Boxer.”
“Ewan.”
“Welcome to the edge of the Galaxy, Ewan. You’re going to love it.”
* * * *
The repairs went well.
The crew of the Fortitude effortlessly merged with the teams aboard Starbase 499. Within twenty-four hours, basic systems were all back together, up and running like nothing had ever happened before. The clean-up would take longer.
As she returned to the Station Master’s Office, Erica Martinez had to smile. The new arrivals to the Santrag system certainly knew how to fit in. It probably had helped that they were a new crew. Those who had been in space aboard a starship for a long time together tended to create a family atmosphere that was tough to integrate.
Not these guys, she knew. These guys are ready to embrace whatever is thrown at them.
Rear Admiral Blackmore was right all along. They were his type of people. And that, of course, made them the type of people welcome in orbit of Santrag II.
Rumor had it that Captain Llewellyn was sticking around, formalizing his assignment to Starbase 499. Exploring the great unknown beyond. Part of Erica wished to go with them but she was too attached to her starbase. Still, maybe one or two trips out aboard that gorgeous Intrepid-class…
Her thoughts were broken by an alert.
One of the Ensigns working beside her tapped a newly-repaired LCARS panel and turned to her with fear spread across his face.
“Ma’am,” he reported, “They’re back!”
ACT THREE
“Shields to maximum! Stand-by on all weapons!”
The viewscreen was dominated by a swarm of deadly vessels. Together, they appeared as one gigantic target, but upon closer inspection, they appeared to be composed of at least fifty medium-sized attack craft. Their design made their purpose clear. Like shards of glass, they penetrated the stars, streaking through space towards their target.
Ewan had never seen anything like it. None of the Bridge crew had. The closest that he could remember were Tholian vessels but they were nothing compared to … these things they all watched, and waited for the inevitable shooting to begin.
“Still no response to our hails,” reported Ensign Armstrong, his young features bathed in the eerie crimson of Red Alert. “They’re charging weapons!”
“Lieutenant Vuro, place us between Starbase 499 and the incoming alien fleet,” the captain ordered, standing from his seat. “I don’t want a single shot getting past us. Do you understand?”
The Bolian nodded, his blue hands flying across his console with years of skill and practice behind them. Ewan’s gambit was simple enough. He hoped that the sight of an Intrepid-class starship would deter the aliens this time around, and make the otherwise-weak Starbase 499 a less inviting target. He got his answer when the first shot struck the shields.
“It looks like we’re not a very good barrier,” observed Valerie with disappointment.
“This is one barrier that fights back,” was Ewan’s reply. “Target the leading ships and fire phasers!”
Three alien vessels went down immediately. As the flame struggled to keep burning in the vacuum of space, two more ships were struck by phaser blasts from the Fortitude and changed their approach vectors. However, the majority of the attackers kept coming.
“499 to Fortitude!” It was Rear Admiral Blackmore. “You’re going to have to do more than that!”
“Relax, sir!” Ewan said, nearly snapping at the admiral. “We’ve got more than just phaser strips on this thing. We’ll get back to you! Fortitude out!”
The deck plating shook beneath their feet as more direct hits were absorbed into the shields. Whoever they were, these aliens, packed quite a punch. With his mind racing, Llewellyn considered all of the variables and he wished that he had more combat experience.
In desperation after having come up with a blank expression, he turned his head and shot a furrowed brow towards Valerie Archer. She understood since she had been reading up on her new commanding officer and that when it came to starship combat, her role as First Officer would encompass military tactics. He certainly had the intuition to shoot first and ask questions later, but it was often more subtle than that.
This was a fine example.
“Tactical,” she said, standing up and taking the center stage, “charge two photon torpedoes with ionic warheads and prepare to fire them into the direct center of the incoming fleet.”
“Shockwaves?” Ewan asked her, catching on with her tactic.
“Precisely,” she replied. “Vuro, we’re going to need those fine reflexes of yours if we want to avoid getting disabled.”
“Already on it, Commander,” the lieutenant confirmed, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Evasive pattern Reed-Alpha Nine, plotted and laid in.”
“On my command…”
The alien fleet drew closer to them, and the lead ships were opening fire.
One of the science stations on the starboard side of the Bridge exploded in a shower of sparks.
“Steady,” Archer warned. Not quite yet…
“Fire them now! Go, Vuro!”
* * * *
Standing in the Station Master’s Officer with their heads raised towards the viewscreen, Blackmore and Martinez had to shield their eyes as the torpedoes detonated. The brilliant white energy produced by the ionic charges jumped from vessel to vessel, knocking their weapons out instantly. Save for a few lucky stragglers at the edge of the attack formation, the entire fleet was hit. As the Fortitude soared away at full impulse power, avoiding the danger, the aliens slowly regrouped and began to turn away.
Blackmore wasn’t giving up that easily. Punching his command access codes into the nearest terminal, he attempted to lock a tractor beam on one
, using 499’s powerful docking emitters.
“I’m not letting those bastards get away that easily,” he swore. “Damn it, why can’t I access the damned tractor beams?”
“They’re offline. They have been since the attack,” Erica sheepishly informed him. “It’s probably best to let them go, Admiral.”
“What?! Have you gone soft on me?”
“No,” the feisty Station Master said with a wicked grin. “If we captured them, then who would tell the rest of the unknown lifeforms out there that we’re back in business and ready to rumble?”
“Free advertising. I like it!”
The viewscreen showed the rest without any need for additional comments. In a flash, as the ionic energy died away from their scorched hulls, the alien attack fleet jumped to warp and headed back for the dark corner of the Galaxy that they called home.
With a satisfied smile, Blackmore tapped his combadge. “499 to Fortitude,” he growled. “Ewan, get yourself over here. I owe you a drink.”
* * * *
He stood on the Bridge with his crew surrounding him.
For the first time since he assumed command of the USS Fortitude, NCC-76240, Captain Ewan Llewellyn felt pride. Not only pride in himself but pride in the performance of his crew. They had succeeded in their first mission.
Starbase 499 was repaired and fully operational. Santrag II, one of the newest additions to the United Federation of Planets, was safe and a possible alien invasion had been averted. They had been pushed out into the unknown early, untried, wet behind the ears… and they had done well.
Ewan looked from face to face. Commander Valerie Archer was turning out to be one heck of a First Officer. Lieutenant Arden Vuro at the helm… he had never seen flying like his before. Up at the Ops console, Ensign Jason Armstrong, a young kid who was so full of promise and adventure.
Lieutenant Commander Sollik had come up from Engineering, smiling for that one rare moment at the success of his team. Doctor T’Verra was also present, although she claimed to be passing through to suggest that Ewan undergo his physical.
Vulcans, he thought. Maybe they have a sense of humor after all.
“Well, everyone, we did it,” he smiled, initiating a small round of applause. He waved them off gently. “I’ve got something to read, so bear with me, please.”
He reached for the PADD resting on the arm of his command chair and tapped a few buttons.
“To: Commander-USS Fortitude.
From: Paris, Admiral Owen, Starfleet Command, San Francisco.
Orders Encoded.
You are hereby assigned to Starbase 499 in the Santrag system, effective immediately. Report to Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore for further instructions, regarding your mission brief: to explore the uncharted sectors of the Beta Quadrant. Clear horizons. End.”
More applause broke out, accompanied by a Bridge filled with happy faces.
“There’s no doubt about it,” Ewan managed to continue. “This is the furthest edge of known space. We’re on our way out here. There’s no running back to Earth every time that we need a new paint job. Understood?”
There were nods of understanding. Nods that he joined in.
“As we’ve already seen, it can get dangerous around here. We’ll be regularly returning to Starbase 499, using it like a launch pad. With their rickety old starships in the hangar, they’ve got no chance if we’re off charting some nebula and those aliens, or worse, come knocking. But I’ll tell you one thing: I have faith in each and every one of you. I have faith in Rear Admiral Blackmore and his people. I have faith in the Santragian people down on the planet. Together, we’re going to shape this corner of space.”
For dramatic effect, there was a pause. Ewan secretly loved giving this speech of his.
“So what are we waiting for?”
EPILOGUE
The fleet of attack ships was crippled.
Slowly, one by one, they dropped out of warp and regrouped, fifty-three lightyears away from the battlefield that they had just run from. Ionic energy was still disrupting a few of their primary systems. Three ships have been lost and three pilots were dead. According to their ancient interstellar laws, that was an act of war.
These Federations? Who were they? Who were they to presume to build outposts overlooking their space? How dare they act with such defiance, like they had a claim to be there? And now sending a powerful starship to patrol the border? Did they really think they would go unchallenged?
They would not.
Slowly, the attack fleet banked around a red giant. The pilots were all looking forward to returning home. It always afforded them an impressive sight to behold. A glorious sight for such patriotic soldiers.
One after the other, they parted.
Each vessel would rendezvous with their carrier ship. Navigating the fleet was a maze but they all knew where to go.
In total, there were almost one h
All preparing for war.
The End…