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Episode Thirteen - 'The End, Part One'

Writer's picture: Jack ElmlingerJack Elmlinger

Star Trek: Fortitude

Episode Thirteen: “The End, Part One”

By Jack D. Elmlinger



PROLOGUE



“You win again, Boxer…”

Helpless in the face of inevitable defeat, Erica Martinez considered calling it a night. For the fifth time in a row, Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore scooped up the chips from the center of the table, chuckling at his master of blackjack.

Alone together in his office, they had decided upon playing a few hands after receiving a long-range subspace transmission from the USS Fortitude. They were returning to Starbase 499 for repairs and Erica knew that she would end up playing cards with Captain Ewan Llewellyn and some practice was required. It was a shame that it hadn’t gone better for her.

“Don’t feel bad, my dear,” the rear admiral grinned from behind his grey beard, chuckling as he stacked his chips. “Ewan can’t even beat me yet.”

“As long as I can beat Ewan, Boxer,” the Latina winked at him.

“Damn, you must really like him? Come on, there’s no secrets here, Erica.”

She sighed a heavy sigh, realizing that sooner or later, she would have to face the truth and face him with her feelings. Yes, she liked Captain Llewellyn. She liked him a lot, and despite several advances, she had never gotten beyond his charming exterior.

There was one possibility, of course. Another woman.

Through her discussions with the Fortitude’s Senior Staff, Erica had learned that Ewan relied heavily on Commander Valerie Archer for moral and technical support. Could that be what was stopping all of this?

“I just get the feeling that it’s a doomed idea,” the Station Master admitted to her commanding officer candidly. “I mean, he’s hardly here, zooming around the Beta Quadrant with his starship, meeting new races, and here I sit, running a starbase. Hardly a perfect match, wouldn’t you say?”

“If it's meant to be,” Blackmore comforted her,” then all of that won’t matter.”

“Station Master’s Office to Station Master Martinez,” interrupted the communications system.

“Go ahead, SMO,” she answered. “I’m here.”

“Long-range sensors have detected a large fleet of vessels incoming. Their estimated time of arrival is three hours. Ma’am, you’re going to want to get up here.”

Oh, what was it now?



ACT ONE



Stepping out of his Ready Room and onto the Bridge of the USS Fortitude, Captain Llewellyn wasn’t, at that moment, expecting anything to drag him away from his current book. They were on course for Starbase 499, and due for repairs after the energy surge that had cripplied the interior workings of his ship, the road home was a relatively uneventful backtracking and nothing more.

“Report,” he spoke to nobody in particular.

“Captain, we’re receiving a distress call,” Jason Armstrong answered him from the Ops position at the rear of the Bridge. “The carrier wave is degrading but I think I can get a fix on it. Sir… it’s Pekeni.”

“Are you absolutely sure?,” confirmed Valerie Archer, rising to her feet and standing beside her captain.

All of them remembered the tragedy of the stricken race that they had encountered. It had been their only proper First Contact scenario tinted with the sorrow of a world pummelled to near-defeat by the relentless enemy known only as the End. Llewellyn and his crew knew of them. The End were why they were out here in the first place. They were responsible for devastating Starbase 499 and that fateful cry for assistance that pushed the USS Fortitude out of Utopia Planitia early.

“Confirmed. It’s a Pekeni distress call, bearing at two-one-two, mark four-seven,” Jason nodded, knowing that everybody on the Bridge was staring at him. “It repeats a single message over and over… nothing more.”

“Let’s hear it,” Ewan ordered, letting his eyes wander as his eyes took over.

“Under attack! Ruthless destruction! On fire… need assistance! Please, if anybody can hear this message… We are under attack!”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?,” Valerie asked him, voicing her immediate concern as soon as the distorted panic-laded request started to repeat itself and Armstrong killed the audio feed.

Llewellyn didn’t need to answer. Everyone was thinking about it. He felt his stomach lurch, remembering his moral struggle when Primary Iraka of the Pekeni begged him for the technology to fight against the End threat and defend the innocent women and children being slaughtered by the barrage of fighters.

Taking his place in the command chair, which always made him feel slightly more secure, the captain arched his fingers and made the only decision that his conscience would allow.

“Helm, lay in a course to Peken, maximum warp.”



* * * *



The Pekeni capital city was no more.

There were only vague indications that a civilization had once existed here. A few walls from a few buildings remained standing, although in their defiance, they had started to weaken and crumble upon themselves. They would eventually join the mass of rubble and twisted metal on the ground, burying the layer of mutilated corpses beneath them. An entire race had been wiped out by those grown for conquest and for no other reason than being an easy target for the ruthless and the evil.

The sky was filled with ash and dust. Several ruptured gas pipes still burned and one of the defiant walls fell at the same time as four shimmering blue transporter beams materialized in what used to be the main plaza. Once the pillars of energy became the Fortitude away team, they witnessed the sheer horror of the Pekeni.

Joined by Ensign Jim Morgan and Doctor Lynn Boswell, Captain Llewellyn and Commander Archer felt their hearts sink.

“Oh my God,” whispered Valerie.

“It looks like they didn’t stand a chance,” Morgan observed, stepping over a chuck of a stone column as he opened his tricorder and began scanning. “Just as we suspected, sir. These weapons signatures are End. There’s no doubt about it.”

“They murdered all of them…” Boswell shook her head in disgust. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help here, Captain. I can’t resurrect the dead.”

Ewan was barely listening to anyone. He felt like breaking down and letting go of the tears that he realized were fighting to escape. Primary Iraka had greeted him, right here, on this spot and initiated First Contact with the United Federation of Planets, a political alliance that was supposed to strengthen those involved, unify aliens races, and work together in the common cause of galactic peace. His eyes were stinging as he glared at all of the destruction. It took a moment for his mind to even allow him to register the sight of the dead bodies strewn around them.

Lynn had mentioned the dead. What did she say? Damn… he cursed himself as he returned to being the captain, burying his own pain.

“We received a distress signal, Doctor,” he finally replied, obviously flustered. “Distress signals don’t send themselves. There might be survivors. Ensign Morgan, can you get a fix on the source of the transmission?”

“A basement, about eighty meters due east. Follow me.”

The rest of the away team followed him, and they were soon standing in a darkened chamber with walls of stone and a partially collapsed ceiling. Flickering madly in the deepest shadow was the source of the distress signal.

Shining her wrist-mounted palm beacon towards it, Archer gasped as she drew her hand to her mouth.. For all of her battle-hardened resolve and steady guidance, she was still Human. The rest of the away team shared in her shock.

The transmitter console was stuck in a feedback loop. The Pekeni citizen who had sent the message was long since dead. A large metal support beam was sticking through his crumpled chest, soaked in blood. His hand rested on the transmit button, forcing the circuits underneath his body to repeat the call over and over. The white illumination from the commander’s palm beacon danced over the gruesome spectacle as it lowered out of respect but Ewan felt his limbs start to move.

Climbing over to the console, he carefully and tenderly moved the hand of the dead man away from the transmit button, ceasing the distress signal.

“It’s all right,” he whispered to the corpse. “We’re here now. You did a good job, sir. We’re here now. Well done. We’re here.”

Behind him, Boswell was crying.

Suddenly, his combadge interrupted the moment. “Fortitude to Captain Llewellyn!,” a voice shouted from it.

“Go ahead,” responded the captain.

“Sir, sensors have detected an End battle cruiser in orbit on the far side of the planet and I’m pretty sure that it’s detected us. Shall I beam you up?”

“Absolutely,” Llewellyn growled, turning back to his away team with a furious and burning desire for justice, his pacifism be damned. “They’re going to pay for this!”



ACT TWO



“Red Alert! Shields up!”

Marching onto the Bridge, Morgan and Archer took their stations as Llewellyn walked directly over to the helm and leaned over Arden Vuro’s shoulders, watching the scanners show the incoming End battle cruiser. The Bolian helmsman noticed his expression with concern. The Welshman was enraged, seething with anger towards the advancing enemy.

Was the surface really that bad?

Had it been a mass slaughter of the innocent, just as they feared that it would be?

“What are we dealing with here?,” Ewan asked, posing his own question out loud.

“Crew complement of twenty-four,” Ensign Armstrong began to read from his Ops display. “It looks like a medium-range support craft, comparable to a Miranda-class starship.

“Tactical analysis, Ensign Morgan?,” Commander Archer demanded.

“Six high-powered disruptor banks and a single torpedo tube, Commander. All fully armed, but it’s nothing we can’t handle, sir. They do have shields.”

“Here they come!,” Vuro cried out, banking the Fortitude hard to port.

What followed was a short dance between the stars, skipping over the atmosphere of the deceased planet below them. The dirty brown plating of the End vessel was a clear antithesis for the shining silver of the Intrepid-class starship. Even the colors of the energy beams that flew between them were mirrored.

Jim was correct in his prediction and soon the End battle cruiser had no shields to speak of. That was the standard tactic for a race grown for battle. The sheer number of fighters in a squadron meant little shielding was required. Everything was finely honed for invasion and fleet battles. Left behind to pick away at the stragglers of the Pekeni world, this vessel was no match for Fortitude and her powerful Type-X phaser banks.

“Their shields are down!,” Jim shouted as the deck beneath his feet shook.

“Swing about and target their engines and weapon systems,” Llewellyn ordered, getting the hang of interstellar combat. “Get them right where we want them!”

“Sir, I’m picking up some kind of energy surge!,” a worried Jason was next to report, brushing his blonde hair aside. “If I’m reading this correctly, it’s some kind of transporter beam, but I’ve never seen anything so powerful before! I think, sir… It’s scattered out starboard shields! They’re beaming soldiers aboard!”

“What in the name of--!,” Ewan shouted in desperation.

A new alert klaxon replaced the regular cacophony of battle. It was the intruder alert signal and it echoed through Fortitude with chilling precision.

“Confirmed, sir,” Ensign Morgan barked from Tactical. “I have End biosigns on Decks Thirteen, Eight, Three, and--”

Before he could finish his warning, the doors to the Briefing Room on the portside of the Bridge burst open and a pair of screaming bipeds thrusted forward. Their skin was yellow and cracked, with their dull-colored uniforms familiar to everyone present, and they were brandishing weapons.

The End was aboard Fortitude.

With reactions that even surprised himself, Jason Armstrong grabbed his emergency phaser and opened fire. He struck the second intruder square in the chest, causing him to crumple to the deck with a cry of anguish. In retaliation, the remaining End soldier returned fire with a shot of his own weapon. Mercifully, the young ensign managed to duck and his large LCARS display shattered over his head, slicing his skin superficially but otherside, causing no physical damage.

Being the next closest officer, Archer reached for a phaser of her own, but before she could even get a hold of it, she was aware of somebody rushing past her. In shock, she watched aghast as Captain Llewellyn literally threw himself at the End soldier, smashing him to the floor and landing a perfect punch to the alien’s jaw. The hideous visage staring back at the captain, snarled with an animalistic wrath, struggling for control of the disruptor between them, its cracked skin appearing to disintegrate as they fought.

Ewan was focused on one single goal. He loathed this murderous creature. He wanted it dead and off of his Bridge.

Rolling to one side, he found himself underneath the End soldier with bits of decaying yellow skin falling into his otherwise smooth dark hair and across his dashing features. Suddenly a phaser blast was heard and the intruder went limp.

Lowering her phaser, Valerie Archer moved to his side to help her captain to his feet. “Do you think that was wise?,” she asked him, disapprovingly.

“No, but it made me feel a whole lot better,” retorted the Welshman. “Jim, get security teams throughout the ship. Order them to shoot any End soldier on sight and to defend all critical areas.”

“Aye, Captain,” the tactical officer slowly nodded, in awe of the fight that he had just witnessed and the bravery of Ewan Llewellyn.



* * * *



Engineering was a battlefield.

Using one of the central consoles as cover and bathed in the glow of the warp core behind him, Lieutenant Commander Sollik gritted his teeth as he returned fire.

There were six of them, all of them trying to pour through the main doors. With seven engineers on duty at the time of the invasion, the Suliban had the upper hand. He was just grateful for the seconds he had needed to activate a Level-Ten force field around the core.

Another disruptor blast came his way, missed, and bounced off of the energy barrier behind him. If he hadn’t been thinking quickly enough, that shot and all of the others would have ruptured the core and this fight would have been over real quick.

Aiming with care, he shot one of the End soldiers, grinning at his own success as he watched the attacker fall onto one of his own comrades. Using the confusion to his advantage, he fired again, taking them both down.

A brief exchange of weapons fire later, a loud explosion came from the direction of the main doors and it was heard by the Starfleet officers. Peering cautiously towards the source of the eruption, Sollik saw a security team sweep into Engineering after they had successfully used a stun grenade on the unsuspecting End boarding party.

Getting to his feet and discarding his sidearm, the chief engineer waved them a friendly and grateful salute before he checked over his people. Surprisingly, everyone was unharmed.

“Lucky us,” he hissed.



ACT THREE



Captain’s Log, Stardate 49219.3;


After successfully repelling the End’s invasion of Fortitude, we have discovered another despicable fact about our enemy. They clearly don’t like being taken captive as every single soldier that we’ve captured had managed to somehow commit suicide. Doctor Boswell is analyzing their corpses to find out how they accomplished such a feat.

Meanwhile, we have captured one of their battle cruisers, and that is a cause for celebration. Frankly, given what the End did to the Pekeni, I couldn’t care less about the suicides. It’s better than what they deserve.



The interior of the End battle cruiser was cramped, dark, and stank of decay. It was exactly what Llewellyn had imagined it would be, owing to the state of the people who had operated it. Carefully, he avoided banging his head against anything as he made his way to the forward command center.

“Valerie,” he called out when he got within range of his first officer,” you wanted to see me?”

Commander Archer turned to greet him with her face ashen with grief. It was an unusual expression for her to wear and he noticed it now more than ever. Standing alongside her, he placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, letting her know that he was here for her, just as she was always there for him. The two crewmen from Engineering that she had been working with dismissed themselves. They know the report that she had to deliver to the captain.

“Ewan, this ship’s database contains the flight plan for the End fleet. There’s no mistaking the course that they set after they destroyed the Pekeni.”

“Where were they heading?”

“The Santrag system, Ewan… and Starbase 499. To finish the job that they had started.”

The captain felt like a Nausicaan had just kicked him in the stomach. Desperation consumed his entire outlook as he instantly regretted being out here in the depths of the unknown Beta Quadrant.

Damn these bastards! Were they doing this deliberately? Testing him by slaughtering all of those that he held dear? No, he told himself. No, these were a people grown for war. It wasn’t personal and he shouldn;t let it become personal either.

Still, for a pacifist, his mind was teeming with violent outbursts, just waiting to be set free, and to be spat forth into the face of whoever was controlling the End. there had to be some way of stopping them! There had to be!

“At maximum warp, we would still be too late,” Archer continued with her report. “I know that the Steamrunner will be able to hold the line for a while but in all honesty, we’re not talking about one squadron of their fighters like last time.”

“Numbers,” Llewellyn whispered.

“There are six squadrons of fighters, supported by six battle carriers and three dreadnought-sized cruisers. According to this vessel’s database, the Pekeni somehow managed to take out one battle carrier and about ten of the End’s fighters. That still leaves a gigantic force of warships… and they’re probably already there.”

Slamming his fist into a bulkhead in a futile display of helplessness, Llewellyn shut his eyes tight and forced out the answer that he was looking for.

Surprisingly, it came to him.

Perhaps it was because he was standing in it.



* * * *



“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began before frowning and shaking his head. “No, that’s not fair. Friends…”

Captain Ewan Llewellyn of the USS Fortitude, NCC-76240, stood on the Bridge surrounded by his senior staff officers, Commander Valerie Archer, Lieutenant Arden Vuro, Lieutenant Commander Sollik, Doctor Lynn Boswell, Ensign Jason Armstrong and Ensign Jim Morgan.

They were all present, standing to attention in a display of unity. None of them dared to show any sign of emotion, despite knowing full well what Ewan was about to propose.

“We have spent our entire time out here in space overshadowed by the threat of a dangerous and merciless enemy,” continued the Captain. “The entire idea behind our assignment to Starbase 499 was born out of the deadly urgency to counter the aggression of the End fleet. Now this is it. It’s zero hour. Our friends in the Santrag system are under attack and it’s our duty and responsibility to place ourselves boldly into harm’s way to save their lives. To that end, Fortitude will be going to maximum warp and returning to take part in a ferocious space battle. For this mission, I am placing the ship under the command of Valerie Archer. Her tactical experience and fearless resolve will lead all of you for the coming fight.”

There was no applause. It wasn’t that kind of a speech.

“Meanwhile, I will be taking Ensign Armstrong with me aboard the captured End battle cruiser and setting a course for the heart of their space. Our goal will be some kind of resolution. If I’m honest, I don’t know what that will be. Hopefully, we can find some way of negotiating a ceasefire between the Federation and the End but I join you in your serious doubts about that. In all probability, and in all honesty, we shall be sacrificing our lives to save yours. If there;s one piece of tactical knowledge that I can remember from my days at Starfleet Academy, it’s that cutting off the head of a beast will usually destroy it. They have left us with no choice, and no surrender. I wish there was some other way of bringing all of this to a peaceful conclusion but I can’t see one.”

Lynn wiped a single tear away from her cheek. A moment later, unexpectedly, Jim Morgan did the same, staining his dark skin. It was understandable. His boyfriend was going out on a suicide mission after all.

“With any luck, I’ll be seeing all of you again,” the captain said, concluding his speech as his own emotions were in danger of surfacing. “We can put this behind us and get back to living up to the name Fortitude. This fine ship, and this fine crew… there’s still a lot of space left out there and I’ll be damned if anybody else is going to explore it first. Each and every one of you are heroes and I leave now, safe in the knowledge that a ship of heroes can survive anything.”

Turning to Valerie Archer, who was visibly trembling, he flashed his trademark grin at her with real feeling behind it. Perhaps if events had played out differently in some… No, not now. Not like this. The hope of survival looked small in comparison to the reality of his desperate voyage.

He swallowed hard, staring into her eyes. “The ship is yours, Commander.”

“I’ll keep your seat warm, Captain,” she managed to reply.

At that moment, with a look laden with an apologetic goodbye and an expression of his love, Jason Armstrong turned his head and saw Jim Morgan gazing back at him. This was what they had signed on for. It was the moment that they had always dreaded, the danger of a working relationship. However, above all else, along with everybody on the Bridge and throughout the fifteen decks of Fortitude, they knew one simple truth.

Duty comes first.



* * * *



Minutes passed by, and heading the opposite direction to an opposite star, the Intrepid-class starship peeled away from her orbit around Peken and folded her warp nacelles inward, jumping to the highest warp factor that she could ever achieve. The ship was leaving her captain and operations officer behind. They were both seated at the awkward and cumbersome controls of the End battle cruiser. Lights danced across their shadowed faces as they worked the systems that they would need to set a course for… well, whatever awaited them deep within the borders of End space.

“Are you ready?,” Llewellyn asked Armstrong with a half-hearted smile.

“I think I know which button to press.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Let’s get going, shall we?”

“Course plotted and laid in. Warp speed at your command, sir.

“Engage.”



EPILOGUE



Rear Admiral Blackmore found himself to be bleeding.

He had been in the Station Master’s Officer for what seemed like days. The battle was going according to plan, despite an early victory. The End had pounced directly from warp on top of Starbase 499, unleashing a powerful volley into the shields around the docking ports and crippling the release mechanisms. The only starship available to launch, and not affected by the attack, was the Steamrunner. By the grace of God, the only ship that really mattered. It had destroyed an entire wing of fighters and sent one of the carrier ships spinning off out of control and back into the dark depths of the Beta Quadrant.

Erica Martinez and Edward Blackmore had punched the air and almost started to celebrate their success, but it hadn’t lasted long. In response, the End fleet sent two further squadrons forward, including the infamous FS-Six, led by the First with a desire for revenge and a personal vendetta against the mighty Federation. Steamrunner was in critical condition out there but she still continued to fight bravely. So did 499.

“Recharge phaser banks and load Launcher Four!,” the Rear Admiral barked as a conduit exploded over his head. “Target that carrier and fire!”

“The coils are shot to pieces!,” Erica yelled through the chaos. “We’ve lost phasers but I can give you Launcher Four in a minute!”

“Get an engineering detail down there! Make it a priority!”

“Any news on the release mechanisms?,” the Station Master asked a young officer who was glued to his post. “If we could only get one more ship out there!”

“Wait a minute,” Blackmore growled. “We’ve got another starship coming in at high warp, bearing one-four-seven, mark two!”

The deck plating beneath their feet started to rumble with the force of several distant explosions. For such a thing to happen to a structure that was as vast as a starbase was nearly unheard of. This new ship could seal their fate. Furiously, Blackmore joined Martinez as they worked to get the viewscreen operational again.

As soon as it was, an image flickered into view.

They both felt like jumping for joy like schoolchildren.

It was Fortitude.



To Be Continued…


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