The 12th Fleet: Starbase Valhalla

Command Briefing room IKS: Hegh 'ej Quv

General Chu’Troq set down his mug of Bloodwine looking over the latest updates from the front two of his aids standing across from him. Both remained quiet, the General was already angry that another squadron of Klingon ships had been lost in the attempted flank attack of the 12th at Charlie. To make matters worse the 12th was continuing to push back his forces. All three looked up as the door opened and Amude walked in followed closely by Duhiz.

"Ah, my new intelligence officer." Chu’Troq looked to his aids. "Leave us." The aids nodded and walked out eyeing both Orion women cautiously. "So have you any news for me from our prisoners?" Amude smiled as she eyed the map noting the latest updates.

"We have, Duhiz here has gained a great deal of information. Not enough to mount any attack on Starbase Vahalla, but there is one piece that may be of interest to you." Chu’Troq looked curiously to Duhiz.

"And what might that be?" Amude smiled yet again.

"One of the 12ths most senior Officers is personally on her way to the engagement zone, we know which ship she is on and its capabilities. If we can take her alive its likely that we can strike a serious blow to the 12th, not to mention the chance to question her." Chu’Troq nodded.

"Very well, we'll assign three squadrons to intercept this officers vessel, whats its name?" Amude pulled out a data padd with a small federation escort displayed on it.

"Its the USS Crazy Fox, under the command of General Ezme." Amude looked at the map. "I see your flank attack was defeated." Chu’Troq frowned but only briefly.

"A minor setback, another squadron is already on its way to attack the opposing flank." Amude looked up.

"Surely they would be expecting such an attack." Chu’Troq grinned.

"I'm counting on it! While they're busy defeating the token force on one flank, a large Gorn force supported by the Green Dragon will attack the original flank." Amude smiled.

"Impressive General, very impressive. What of the prisoners? Duhiz, may still get some information from them but not for long." Chu’Troq nodded.

"Once you felt you've extracted everything you can, they are to be sent on a ship back to Qo'nos. The J'mpok wishes for them to stand trial, and Klingon Intelligence wants to have a chance to 'question' them." Chu’Troq let out a hearty laugh. "Then they'll likely be sent Rura Penthe, or simply executed for crimes against the Empire. Either way, I'm sure they will know nothing but pain and suffering for the remainder of their days."

U.S.S. Normandy
Captain's Ready Room

Davis watched the transmission with mixed feelings. "all those people."

Captain, what are your orders?

Redy the crew, depart to system RY8-894 at full power. Play time is over.

"Aye Captain."

Davis sat at his desk staring at his daughter's picture, in deep thought.

(Warning: Could be somewhat graphic. Reader discretion is advised. PM me for a summary.)












The line was stark.

Two hundred meters between them.

One side KDF.

The other Starfleet.

In the middle were two men.

Two warriors.

Two champions.

In between them was a knife and a gun.

Simple weapons from simple soldiers.

They sat there for what seemed like forever. Like statues. Both of them knew weapons were trained on them from long range.

Both knew there would be no shot.

Honorable men.

“On three.”

Major Kulokk nodded his head.

“One.”

“One.”

Breath.

“Two.”

“Two.”

Shorter breath.

“Three.”

“Three.”

They ran at each other.

Kulokk jabbed with the left side of his Bat’leth, intending for it to be blocked so he could respond with the right side.

Instead Angel used his smaller size and ducked under the assault while also twisting 180 degrees to face the ground, bringing his blunt end down on Kulokk’s knee, the bones snapping.

The clothing didn’t help control the blood as the bones had punctured them where ever they’d been forced out of the flesh of the KDF major.

But Kulokk merely grunted and followed through with his counter, a left elbow to the back of Mark’s head, which put him in the sand, again face first.

Angel felt his own blood on the back of his head and neck, immediately beginning to soak his uniform and hair, the armor of Kulokk splitting his skin open graciously and cracking his skull.

But he knew what Kulokk would do next, even through the fog of a mild concussion. He’d be going down on his left, right on top of his enemy, and would bring his blade around to bear.

So the colonel rolled to his own left, just enough to clear the shaft of the lirpa to parry the klingon weapon.

He could hear the cheering from both lines a hundred meters from them.

Cheering them to death.

He continued his roll, coming to his feet as he did. He noticed over his shoulder that Kulokk had failed to get to his feet, the shattered remains of his left knee planting him where he was, the sands of this alien world seeming to greedily drink their blood.

And Mark did not wait.

That was not their way.

This was not special.

Not to them.

Not to two warriors who had taken life on many occasions.

Not to these two brothers of war.

Davis brought the lirpa up above his head, showing Kulokk what was coming, both of them knowing how it would play.

The Bat’leth came up and met the heavy end of the Vulcan weapon, taking it down towards the earth as the flat, round end swung to line with the major’s exposed throat.

Angel thrusted when it was time.

The Bat’leth fell.

Blood flowed more than even the sands could consume.

The cheering stopped.

The 12th Fleet soldiers surged forward, the KDF retreated.

The battle for the generator was over.

Angel picked up his pistol and holstered it, relieving in the weight that belonged on his body.

Then he picked up the Khitomer Blade.

He walked back to the FOB as his family ran around him.

Charlie sight.

Karadok looked around as soon as he had beamed down and was greeted with some screaming that was coming from what appeared to be what was passing for the field hospital.


"Ok folks let's see what we can do."

When he looked at his people he saw a sadness there. The lose of so many comrades and the ship was weighing heavy on all of them and the best thing for that was to get busy. Some of the officers were doctors and would be helpful in the hospital others he wasn't sure what they would do they could help as aides but were not doctors.


The beleaguered group headed to the field hospital. As they entered the building they were greeted with nothing short of chaos. After talking to several people Karadok tracked down the man in charge he was covered in blood and looked rather frantic.

It was obvious there had been much hand to hand combat and for all the advances in medicine and technology this hospital looked very much like field hospitals had for centuries. Oh sure the equipment was better as was the technique but some times one still had to amputate and deal with blood and screams.

So the officers of the U.S.S. Kyra Magdalen set to work in the field hospital treating the wounded and dying. Those without a medical background acted as nurses and learned on the job.

USS Eldridge
En Route to Planet Charlie

Lieutenant Reed sat at the helm, his fingers deftly working the console to keep the ship in formation with the USS Salt Lake City. It was a dangerous maneuver from the times before transporter systems, but it had the added advantage of making two starships look like only one on nearly all sensor nets. Unless, of course, the enemy was within visual range. Both ships, which were rotated opposite of each other at ninety degrees to the solar plane, had to reconfigure their shield emitters to deploy their powerful protection fields at less than two meters from their hulls to avoid contact. A precaution designed to avoid unnecessary energy traces from prying eyes.

"Formation holding, Captain," Lt. Reed reported. "The pilot over there is pretty good if I may say so. Coming up on our first jump point now, sir."

Lt. Reed let the computers from both ships drop each vessel out of warp within pico-seconds of each other, align with the second jump point well above the ecliptic using thrusters, and engage warp. The ballet of precision maneuver completed in mere seconds.

Captain Alexander stood up from his chair, "Very well, Lieutenant, how long until we reach our insertion point for Charlie?"

"Approximately twelve minutes, sir. New reports of Klingon patrols have forced us to add two jump points and lower our speed to just above warp one." Lt. Reed answered.

Turning to address the rest of the bridge crew, the Captain announced, "Okay everyone, based on the reports we have been seeing, Charlie seems to have many casualties on both sides. It doesn't seem like the Klingons are putting up much of a fight in orbit, but their ground forces really want that planet. There's a replicator in my ready room if you want to grab a snack or a drink before we get into the thick of it. And just so no one gets any ideas, I've locked out all alcoholic beverages." Light chuckling made its way around the bridge, but only two officers took up the Captain's offer.

"Commander Tamica," the Captain said, turning directly to face the tactical officer, "please begin final preparations for our little surprise." "Aye, sir." She replied.

Minutes later on the final jump...

"Tamica, open a channel to the SLC," Captain Alexander ordered. When Sylix appeared on the view screen, he said, "Sylix, as you know we are coming out of this jump directly above the south polar region of Charlie. I want you to make best impulse to the rendezvous point heading anti-spinward. Report any Klingons or 12th Fleet ships that need assistance, and unless attacked, we run under passive sensors only. Let's not advertise our presence more than we already have. Then get your MACOs down to Angel. Looks like they can use some help."

"Roger that, Captain. Sylix out."

Lieutenant Reed finished the final countdown of the last jump before the tight formation of the two ships reverted out of warp. Immediately the two ships went their separate ways around the planet, the USS Salt Lake City launching half a dozen shuttle craft and it's two Peregrine fighters toward the forward operating base that Colonel Davis operated out of.

The Eldridge made it's hairpin turn, engaged full impulse, and skirted just above the atmosphere. From the ship, only a single shuttle craft emerged and turned toward one of the many stations the Federation set up for mining. Seconds after, it shimmered and disappeared under cloak.

Captain Alexander finished his customary root beer and said, "Tactical, what's the situation in orbit and the general area?"

"Sir, I'm reading a few 12th Fleet ships in orbit, some damaged, most not. The bulk of the fleet is on the other side of the planet and passive sensors aren't too detailed. I'm detecting traces of Klingon debris fields all around us. The USS Kyra Magdalen is directly ahead just coming into visual from behind the planet."

"That's a medical ship... Contact Captain Lykos and tell him we have three empty sick bays available and standing by as needed. Also let him know it will be raining MACOs here shortly." The Captain tapped the switch on his chair, "Bridge to Ensign Finnigan, begin Skyjumper operations and launch fifty MACOs with orders to guard the field hospital. Launch the rest as small fire teams to harass and demoralize the Klingons on the ground. Notify them that upon touchdown they will be under command of Colonel Davis."

"Captain!" Lt. Commander Tamica shouted, "Klingon bird of prey decloaking and giving chase to the shuttle we launched!"

The Captain leaned forward in his command chair and grinned slightly, "Hold this orbit and continue Skyjumper launch. I think they're taking the bait."

Angel reported to the field hospital with his Lirpa on his shoulder, the left hand on the shaft as his right carried his sniper rifle casually.

Everything spun as he walked, making the 2100 meter trek from the line an ordeal he hadn't experienced in some time.

He came through the door and immediatly noticed a difference from the last time he'd poked his head in.

Everything was much more organized and effiecient. Nurses were dutifully doing their jobs as the doctors did theirs.

The admittance nurse snagged his attention at the field desk.

"Colonel! Master Sergeant Ylim said you'd be coming in Sir! This way!"

"Have him meet me here Crewman," Davis said before another nurse came up and administered a hypospray, making everything go black.

The USS Locksley shot through the debris like a bat out of hell.

The deflector did it's job of course, but still . . . the space was thick with it.

Halnn: "Sir, the Indominable is calling a tactical retreat Sir!"

The screen showed them dodging under half of a KDF Vorcha battleship, opening fire with her cannons on a vulnerable Bird of Prey.

Anderson: "Get us out of here Katrok. Halnn, find him a suitable course."

Halnn/Katrok: "Aye."

Again the screen showed them pitching around, fighting still engorging the darkness around the small escort.

Anderson: "Erpla, were you able to complete a scan of the surface?"

He brought up the planet, Charlie, on his chair's mini-screen, complete with the latest tactical data.

Erpla: "Yes Sir. It appears as though the MACOs have taken the first objective, and are currently engaging the transporter inhibitor."

Anderson: "Any word on casualties?"

Erpla: "Aye. of the 21,421 troops that made it ground side - 1,768 are KIA. Last report was 5,639 wounded. It would have been more if not for the duel between Angel and the commanding officer of the generator defense, a Major Kulokk."

Anderson: "Understood. Our newest rendezvous point is Uniform Gamma, Katrok."

The Locksley rolled and pitched as it worked it's way out of the battlespace.

Katrok: "Aye Sir."

Karadok felt very tired and emotionally drained. Days like this really took their toll on medical personal. It seemed he had been working in the hospital for days when it had been a mere twelve hours.

He was down to his last patient for the day. An Andorian whose antenna had been nearly severed in two. As he finished patching the Andorian up Karadok said," Now stay off that antenna for a week."
The Andorian did not look amused. Some people just did not get humor.

After he was done Commander Karadok Lykos inquired about the location of the living quarters for the medical personal found out he had been set up in his own personal room in them and made his way there. His stuff had already been delivered their what little he had left after the lose of his ship. He headed to the showers and then went and got something to eat.

Karadok sat for long time thinking about what the future would bring would he be given another command he was after all only a commander and therefore did not rank a ship off his own. On the other hand the UFP was short of officers. That could wait until morning and now he needed sleep.

U.S.S. Proteus

Kimara surveyed her situation carefully. She was in orbit with the remainder of the fleet, though she was careful to have her helm keep closer to some of the more well armed vessels.

Looking over her bridge was like looking at a small room after a large bomb had gone off. There was glass and electronic debris everywhere. The consoles on the starboard side of the bridge were in complete disarray after the Klingon attack.

Kimara glanced to the spot where Aloani had been tending to Lt. Dar. There was a faint blood spot where he had hit the wall. He had long since been taken to the medical bay, along with 63 other injured crew and 15 that had been killed in the short battle. Commander Aloani, her first officer, had assumed control of the medical bay and was busy triaging and treating the wounded. Kimara had stopped in to help for the worst of the cases, but had excused herself once things were more under control.

Three had been a miracle worker in Engineering. She had avoided a warp core breach by rerouting the power around the ship with blinding speed and precision. Her actions would earn her a promotion, Kimara thought, and a medal if she had her way. Starfleet was still wary of the Liberated, but they also took the recommendations of the Captains very seriously. Besides, Kimara thought, if they would not issue the commendation then she would do it herself. She had that authority.

The Proteus, however, was in a much worse shape. Her hull was scorched and pock marked from disruptor blasts and torpedo impacts. Though the shields had repelled a good deal of the energy, they couldn't dissipate all of it. Kimara could only imagine what her ship looked like from the outside. Missing nacelle, shot off by her own turret, breaches in the hull sealed off by shields, she was sure that there was a trail of plasma behind her as well.

All was stable, for now. Kimara had her crew sealing off compartments that were currently unusable. She found herself glad that they had taken on so many extra medical supplies, but she never dreamed that she would need them for her own crew.

Still, the ship was stable. Three already had her crew busy rerouting those functions of the bridge that were damaged so she would still have the use of most of what the Proteus had to offer, though she couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the ship after this mission.

USS Eldridge
Poighet System, Planet Charlie

Lieutenant Reed watched his display intently as he guided the Eldridge around the planet toward the rendezvous with the rest of the 12th Fleet forces in the area. Apart from the Klingon patrol shadowing the cloaked shuttle craft that was launched minutes prior, no other hostile contacts showed up on sensors.

"Captain," Lt. Reed spoke up, interrupting Captain Alexander's reverie. "We should be coming in view of the fleet in just a few seconds."

The Captain stood up from his chair and gazed at the viewscreen. Multiple ships came into view, some holed pretty badly, others looking as if they just left the shipyards and arrived. Turning to his acting XO, he said, "Commander Tamica, let the fleet know we have arrived on station. The USS Salt Lake City should be arriving from the other side of the planet any minute now. Tell them we have plenty of space in our medical bays to take on wounded."

Turning to the helm, he addressed Lt. Reed, "Put us in a defensive position above the Proteus. They look like they've taken the worst beating of the Fleet." Lt. Reed deftly acted out his orders and replied, "Aye, sir."

"Comms, open a channel to the Proteus," Alexander ordered. "USS Proteus, this is Captain Alexander of the Eldridge. We are taking a defensive position above your ship. Recommend you break orbit and maintain station a few kilometers from the bulk of the fleet. I don't know your internal condition, but from the outside it looks like you've had a bit of a rough ride here. We are showing erratic readings in your warp core and are prepared to initiate emergency beam out of your entire crew should the need arise. Please respond."


USS Salt Lake City
Poighet System, Planet Charlie

The USS Salt Lake City drifted around the planet expecting a fight. Nothing detectable by passive sensors registered on the displays. Gliding gracefully around the northern pole of the planet, the sensors began to show multiple friendly units clustered together near the equator.

Sylix took note of the tactical display taking up a third of the viewer: The Eldridge taking up a covering position above the Proteus, a shuttle craft transponder making haste toward the colonized asteroid, followed by a partially visible and older Klingon Bird of Prey, and the remaining 12th Fleet ships licking their wounds from what looked like a major battle. Debris littered the orbit, a dangerous situation for the people on the planet should the larger parts enter the atmosphere.

On the surface, a major attack in progress on a transport inhibitor seemed to be in Starfleet's favor, but the situation looked to turn into a stalemate at any given time. Sylix doubted his meager MACO forces waiting to beam down would be of any help, but ordered his tactical officer to contact Colonel Davis and ask where the MACOs would be needed the most.

Sylix tapped his chair's internal comlink dedicated to his medical department, "Sickbay," he said. "Please organize a team to assist the field hospital. Make sure the medical personnel are getting some rest. Take the extra pallets of supplies in cargo bay one and a shuttle."

Lieutenant Commander Rosencrantz, the ship's XO, spoke up, "Captain, we are seeing some odd fluctuations about three-hundred clicks from the fleet's position. It's hard to tell on passive sensors only, but it could be a small group of cloaked ships."

Sylix took a moment to glance at the tactical screen. "Make the fleet aware, XO. As soon as we hear from Colonel Davis on the MACO deployments, get them down to the planet. For now, get us between the damaged 12th Fleet vessels and that anomaly. Adjust power profiles for defensive combat: extra power to shields and engines."

The Excelsior-class starship flew gracefully toward her intended position. Battered, but not broken, her smooth lines marred only by hastily installed outer plating on the top of the engineering hull... Ready for anything.