Stardate 76728.6; September 24, 2399
EPISODE
117
Edited by Peter Bossley
Written by Chris Adamek
ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS
Lieutenant Bodie
Ashton
First
Administrator Ceniir
Administrator
Dra’venn
Angela
Christopher
Arch-Rashon
Fornath
Garenna
Admiral Kathryn
Janeway
Commander
Jerras
Commander
Turathan Karalis
Captain Ryan
Landsberg
Malganis
Chancellor
Martok
Lt. Commander
Ian Meade
General Ordikan
Justin Reinbold
Commander Amy
Robinson
Lieutenant
Courtney Rose
Lieutenant
Flora Sanders
Praetor Tomalak
Lt. Commander
Jayla Trinn
Overseer
Va’kyr/Creya Rosat
High Overseer
Xi’Yor
Chapter 35
Megan Reinbold liked to try new things. Experimentation was a big part of who she was. It was the reason she transferred to the Columbia. It was the reason she went out to dinner
with Doctor Arayne last night—a big mistake in retrospect. And it was the reason she was having
calamari salad for lunch… another one of those big mistakes.
To
put it bluntly, the meal—for lack of a better word—tasted wretched
beyond belief. It was like a stringy,
bitter cross between floor cleaner and raw chicken. Megan didn’t know who decided that squid was edible, but that
poor, misguided individual obviously neglected to consult with her. After one vomitory bite, she set aside her
fork and shoved the bowl aside.
“Nervous?”
Amy Robinson quietly slipped into the empty chair across from Megan, a slight
grin upon her face. “You’ve got a big day
ahead of you…”
In
just a few short hours, Megan would embark upon what was no doubt the defining
moment of her career. She would
infiltrate Rebena Te Ra and use its astral observatory to penetrate Eredas-Il’s
formidable defenses. That certainly
qualified as a big day, but the realization hadn’t sunk in just yet. “I’m fine,” said Megan. “It’s your squid that’s bothering me.”
Amy
glanced at the uneaten dish. “Not your
cup of tea?”
Megan
cringed. “It has tentacles!”
The
notion was enough for Megan to recoil in disgust, but Amy seemed totally
unfazed. “That’s the best part,” she
quipped, hand slowly reaching across the tabletop to claim the salad as her
own. “Do you mind?”
“Not
at all.” Megan hastily slid her fork
across the table, glad to finally rid herself of the unfortunate
experiment. “That’s the last
time I dine off of your menu!”
Amy
chuckled, but did not allow idle conversation to keep her from lunch. For a moment, Megan thought about returning
to the replicator in search of something a bit more edible, but the vile
calamari had effectively destroyed her appetite. “I might not eat for the next week,” she muttered.
“It’s
not going to kill you,” Amy lightly replied between bites. “In fact, calamari is very healthy.”
“My
health is fine.” Megan knew that for a
fact. During her unfortunate dinner
with Doctor Arayne, she learned every last detail about her superb physical
condition. “Did you know that I have a
lovely colon?”
Amy
suddenly froze, forkful of calamari just centimeters from her mouth. “I told you not to go out with him…”
Megan
frowned. “No you didn’t…”
Eyebrow
arched, Amy hastily scoured her mind for details. “You’re right,” she promptly admitted. “I told Ensign Rashkimar not to go out with him! I thought you were too busy working in the
science lab, so I didn’t warn you.”
At
the very least, a word of caution would have been nice—but truth be told, Megan
had been busy in the science lab examining every shred of data that
Lucas, Talyere, and Erin collected while visiting Rebena Te Ra. She wanted her mission to go perfectly. “At least I know that I’m in peak physical
form for this mission,” she mused. “I
don’t know what’s going to happen in the coming days, but I’ll be ready for
it.”
Amy
smiled. “I have faith in your
abilities,” she said. “You will do just
fine.”
The
claymore was a simple, yet elegant blade.
One couldn’t help but admire its beauty… and simultaneously respect its
awesome lethality. “It was used by the
Scottish for hundreds of years,” said Matthew Harrison as he gently hefted the
heavy blade in his hands. Measuring
more than a meter in length, the claymore was difficult to wield—and Harrison
thusly kept it mounted on the wall in his ready room.
“It’s
a warrior’s blade,” noted Ryan Landsberg.
The Captain of the Endeavor sat comfortably in one of the chairs
before Harrison’s desk, slowly downing a glass of Romulan ale. They had chatted
idly about things past for the better part of an hour, but in the back of his
mind, Harrison knew that Landsberg had not come to reminisce.
“On
this eve, we could use a great many valiant warriors,” said Harrison in
response.
“We’re
three hours away from Rebena Te Ra,” said Landsberg. “Not to be outdone by the Romulans, the Klingons are sending more
ships… but I doubt they’ll reach the front in time. We’ve got all the valiant warriors we’re going to get.” He sipped at his ale. “You ready?”
When
he first joined Starfleet, Harrison knew that he might one day be involved in
conflict. It seemed there were always
forces of evil standing in opposition of the mighty Federation, and as a
Starfleet officer, it was Harrison’s duty to defend against those threats. Little did he know, those threats would
become increasingly numerous. “I have
been in combat before,” he stated.
“But
are you ready?” Landsberg repeated.
That
was an entirely different matter.
Despite the relative frequency of combat, Harrison found himself ill at
ease on the battlefront. “Our strategy
is tenuous and there is but a marginal chance for victory,” he stated.
Landsberg
downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll
take that as a big fat NO.”
But
Harrison was not yet through. “I had a
dream last night,” he quietly continued.
“Our mighty armada charged through the Gates of Transparent Horn to
oppose the forces of darkness. It was a
long and valiant struggle, but we ultimately prevailed…”
Landsberg
chuckled. “Sounds like you need a
woman.”
For
a moment, Harrison was tempted to broach the subject of Amy Robinson… but he
soon thought better of it. The last
thing he wanted to do was extol the greatness of her bosom. He instead chose to keep true the
conversation’s course. “The Gates of
Transparent Horn bode well for our cause.”
“Really?” Landsberg was not impressed.
“Are
you not familiar with The Aeneid?”
“Isn’t
that an Andorian subspecies?”
Harrison
sighed. “They would be called the
Aenar,” he corrected. “The Aeneid is an
epic poem written by Virgil. Therein,
Virgil mentions the Gates of Horn and Ivory.
True visions pass through the Gates of Horn, whilst deluding lies pass
through the Gates of Ivory.”
Now
that things started making sense, a slight smile befell Landsberg’s face. “So your dream was a good sign?”
“Indeed,”
said Harrison. “Our valiant warriors
shall prevail.”
“I’ll
drink to that.” And on that note,
Landsberg poured himself another glass of Romulan ale. “To the Andorians,” he toasted.
Even
though most of his military campaigns ended in some sort of failure—he did
preside over the fall of the Romulan Empire—Praetor Tomalak nevertheless liked
to consider himself a decent tactician.
His elaborate deceptions on Nelvana III were certainly inspired, and his
victory over the USS Titan at Galorndon Core was undoubtedly a high
point in his career… but it seemed to Tomalak that no amount of planning could
prepare him for the defense of Rebena Te Ra.
Listening
posts throughout the Federation indicated that a fleet numbering greater than
six thousand Elorg vessels recently vacated Elorg space and was presently orbiting
Rebena Te Ra. Combined with the Phobian
and Garidian forces already in the vicinity of the mystical world, the Elorg
task force numbered closer to ten thousand.
With the addition of Eredas-Il, the armada seemed invincible.
“I
have recalled twelve more Romulan ships,” said Tomalak. That officially brought the entirety of the
Romulan fleet to the Federation’s defense, though it was unlikely twelve
additional ships would turn the tide in combat.
Still,
Admiral Janeway praised the maneuver.
“The more the merrier,” she quipped.
The Admiral had been devising strategies with Commander Jerras for the
better part of an hour, but Tomalak himself just recently arrived.
Tomalak
knew little about the Admiral’s new flagship—an Eximus-class starship of
the same name—but the astrometrics lab was certainly impressive. It used advanced holographic technology to
display a three-dimensional representation of the galaxy. When standing in the center of the
laboratory, one was completely immersed in the minutiae of interstellar space.
“We
can add the Romulan ships to the Seventh Fleet,” said Jerras. She alluded to a small grouping of
holographic starships that hung not far from Tomalak’s face.
Rebena
Te Ra loomed nearby. Surrounded by the
aforementioned Elorg fleet, the large Class-P planetoid looked like it was
doomed—but Tomalak had faith in his comrades’ abilities. “I have inspected our current strategy,” he
said. “It is certainly viable, but I
assume it can be improved upon…”
“That’s
what we’re working on,” Janeway replied as she sipped at her steaming mug of
tea. With her free hand, she motioned
toward the Tenth Fleet. It was the
large contingent of starships nearest Rebena Te Ra. “What if we have the Sixth and Eleventh Fleets join them on the
front line?”
“That
would give the Columbia more time to get Commander Reinbold to the
astral observatory,” noted Jerras, “but it would also expose our starboard
flank.”
Jerras
made a logical assessment, but Tomalak didn’t entirely agree with it. “If Commander Reinbold doesn’t get to that
observatory,” he said, “we won’t have a starboard flank to expose.”
“He’s
right,” said Janeway. “Do it.”
From
her workstation, Jerras made the necessary changes to the tactical
display. The Federation starships
flittered around the battlefield accordingly—and the Elorg ships moved in
response. Not surprisingly, the
simulation sent them straight into the starboard flank.
“It’s
going to be a difficult battle either way,” noted Tomalak.
Janeway
nodded her agreement. “We have to stick
to our guns,” she said. “We’ve come too
far to give up now. If we are going to
hurt the Elorg this is our best chance to do it.”
“I
said nothing about retreat,” Tomalak lightly reminded. “But you are correct. We will not have another opportunity to
assault them as such—and no matter the outcome, after this battle, things could
get very… ugly.”
If
the Elorg prevailed, and the Federation Alliance was defeated, their massive
fleet might be inclined to finish the job started within the Rebena System. The Federation’s fall would be swift. On the other hand, if the Elorg were
defeated, Tomalak was certain they would resort to some extreme measure of
revenge. Either way, it was going to be
bad…
The
very same thoughts must have simultaneously crossed Janeway’s mind, because the
look on her face was appropriately grim.
“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.” She sighed. “Whatever
happens in the coming hours, we’ll find some way to prevail. It might not happen today or tomorrow or ten
years down the line—but we will prevail.”
Tomalak
did not share the Admiral’s enthusiasm—but he was not about to argue. Hope, determination, courage… in the long
run, they could become weapons infinitely more powerful than phasers and
torpedoes—and in the coming hours, they would need all of those weapons if they
hoped to survive.