The Price of Failure
2315.Q1.M3.F2
Gammon, Kortennon Command Citadel-Bunker
"Baron!"
The words of the page echoed off walls of deep blue, joined shortly by the harsh report of heavy doors flung open and smashing into stone. The page, a thin young man, stood trembling as Baron Sergen Kortennon gave him a baleful look from the other end of the dark and low-ceilinged hall, his green face lit orange by the command console that he, his son Solug, and a trio of mentat advisors were huddled around. The Baron's long, thin frame was seated in his mobility chair, itself temporarily ensconced in a throne. Everyone else was forced to stand.
"What is it, boy?" Solug sneered, his large frame turning towards the cowering Page and advancing on him, lifting the him off the ground by an arm. The page struggled in his grasp as Solug bellowed, "You have intruded on a military operation and you have interrupted the peace and quiet of the Baron!" He grinned at the wide-eyed page, "Maybe I should see how your bones crunch under a mallet as punishment for this disgrace."
"Solug!" Snapped Baron Kortennon, "These are not your halls. They are mine. Release the boy."
Solug growled and dropped the page, who hit the stone floor with his skinny knees, eyes watering as he winced at the impact.
"At least Solug helped you kneel. You should thank him." The Baron said, eyes glimmering in the orange half-light.
"Thank you, Sir Solug Kortennon." The page said quietly.
"Good. Now what is it you wished so desperately to report that you thought it appropriate to force yourself into my hall in such a rude fashion?"
The page looked up. He realized the Mentats had moved away from the planning tables, lurking in shadows at the corners of the rooms, one behind a pillar. It would be comical, if the page didn't know how much danger he was in.
"Sir…" he began, gulping, "I bring a report from the commander -
acting commander of Anoxa, sir. He states: Our weapon… our weapon was disabled by Starfleet commandos, who are now escaping on shuttles."
Solug started, "But their ships are right outside the system!"
The Baron didn't move an centimeter, "This is a disaster. But perhaps we can take some good from it. Bring any commandos my Elite guard captured to me. We will…" he thought for a moment, "Slurp down their skins, broil only the finest cutlets from their living bodies. Crack their bones and suck the marrow out, as Golug threatened to do to you. How does that strike you, Golug?"
The page's tongue felt sluggish in his mouth, now dry as the deserts, "No--"
"--We should broadcast it all to their fleet as a demoralization!" Golug said gleefully.
The Baron clicked his tongue in disapproval, "Golug, do not be foolish. Appearances must be maintained even in these dire times. To so extravagantly confirm our particular interests would only pointlessly arouse the Federation's self-righteous indignation. And if my heir cannot deliver us, it will certainly seal our doom."
"Yes, Baron." Solug said, subdued.
The Baron smiled greasily, "That being said, we must enjoy ourselves. Won't it be delightful if one of the prisoners is the 'pretty savages' the old works mentioned? I have always wished to discover how they taste."
"No prisoners were taken, Baron."
The mentats retreated a little further into their hiding places as the Baron blinked at the page, his face turning to a frown, "Cold bodies are barely acceptable but if one is an Amarki I suppose--"
"Baron," the page said, "We inflicted no casualties. The Elite Guard detachment was wiped out, a few taken prisoner themselves. Baron." The last word he whispered as if it were a ward of protection.
From a dark corner, a shocked gasp.
The Baron's hands balled into bony, white-knuckled fists. He slammed them, again and again, into the arms of his hover chair, screaming incoherently. On the planning table, a swarm of red dots representing enemy ships appeared on the orange surface, and they were projected onto his face like angry red boils. The page looked away, cowering. The Baron rambled for what seemed an eternity, raving about the high-volume railguns and their superiority to weak energy weapons, to the personal shields they had been assigned, the armor of his finest troops impregnable, or so the mentats said. Then, some time spent on what he would do to his chief inventor, then the family of the chief inventor, on and on.
Then abruptly, the barrage of noise stopped. "I see." The Baron said, dabbing at his head, "It is down to my fool heir to save us. Mentats! Come here!"
Dutifully, the trio appeared from their pathetic hiding places, and once again clustered around the planning table.
"Let it be decree'd at once," the Baron said, "That our order for the execution of commandos of any kind is to be extended to
all personnel of the enemy. Our stations are to fire for maximum casualty effect, particularly if they make any attempt to escape their doomed vessels. Is that clear?"
The mentats nodded, each pressing a finger to their throats to broadcast the orders.
"Oh, and efforts are to be made to bring an Amarki to me. The famed Captain of the Renaissance would be a delight." He turned his attention back to the page, "Boy. I see now why you were sent. Old Torven," he said, referring to the overall commander of the Elite Guard, "Old Torven could not face me himself, so he sends his errand-boy to me instead. Is this correct?"
The page hesitated.
"I AM YOUR BARON AND YOU WILL ANSWER!"
"Yes, yes sir Baron, sir. That is how it happened, Baron."
"Disgraceful. I do not know if my heir can save us from this fleet, but we will punish those who have failed us even at the last minute. Boy! Take Golug and find Torven. No doubt you know where he hides."
Golug cracked his knuckles and the page grimaced, but dutifully led the huge man out the doors, softly closing them behind him after Golug was through.
***
USS Atuin
The faces around the wardroom table of the Atuin were grim. Captain Chad was at the head of the table, hands clasped together as if in prayer, staring down at the polished surface with damp, vacant eyes. Next to him was his XO, T'Arvit, the Vulcan woman's eyes closed in meditation. Beside her was the ship's Yan-Ros security officer, blue-haired Lieutenant Liacross. Across from her was the Indorian Medical officer, Lieutenant Commander Panora, who winced at every casualty and damage report. Next to him sat a Rigellian and a Seyek, holding hands on the surface of the table. That was his Science and Tactical officers, Lieutenant Commanders Quessa and Khiwoulo. Finally at the end of the table was Counselor Voxu. The Betazoid man was looking right at the captain, his face tight with concern. The only missing member of his senior staff was Commander Ozzgrizzira, his Operations officer, who was currently manning the conn.
The audio feed from the battle of Gammon echoed in the otherwise silent wardroom.
"
Endurance to Flag. We've been hit with some sort of augmented phased particle stream from Goliath-Alpha. Shields are failing."
"Flag to
Endurance. Move to Pattern Sigma-Eight."
"Sojourner to flag. We've been hit by the same energy weapon as the
Endurance from Goliath-Alpha. Reaction system is offline. All ships are advised to keep clear of our flight path until control is restored."
"Understood, Sojourner. We working on a counter to that beam," came the terse reply from T'Lorel, "
Rru'adorr,
Kumari, take up mobile position Theta and cover the
Sojourner."
"Casualty report: 44 dead, 23 wounded on the
Endurance."
Liacross started, rocking forward in his seat at the last report. "Uh," he said, looking at Chad, "Trizzadiara--"
Chad snorted with frustration, "--Has sisters on that ship."
More reports came in, the situation for Endurance and Sojourner growing more bleak as the damage control reports rolled in, the Goliath stations hammering the two Explorers. Then came a shock.
"Flag-Science to fleet, Goliath-Alpha is charging the augmented cannon again."
"
Endurance to
Thunderhead! Goliath Alpha is targeting
you. Come about to-- Damn it.
Thunderhead destroyed. We're covering
--" The transmission cut out.
"
Rru'adorr to Flag-Actual. Sensors confirm destruction of the
Thunderhead. Reading
Endurance warp-core offline and drifting."
"
Endurance to Flag-Actual." The voice was different from the one before, cold and methodical. "This is Commander Chatsworth. Our warp core has been disabled." There was a pause, and a tremor crept into the voice on the other end, "Station Goliath Beta fired on our escape pods. Estimate three-hundred plus KIA total. Captain Tenbras has been killed."
Chad's hands curled into fists and Liacross made a noise of disbelief.
"Are you sure it wasn't a targeting error,
Endurance?"
"Confirmed, Flag. We thought the same when they fired at
Thunderhead's escape pods. This is deliberate action."
"Understood. Your vessel is in a stable orbit and is covering
Thunderhead's escape pods from fire. I am directing them to rendezvous with your hulk. Gather the rest of your crew and find a protected location on the
Endurance until we can direct relief vessels to your location."
"...Understood."
"Flag to all ships, be advised, do not launch escape pods unless in extreme danger or out of the combat zone."
Quessa pushed herself away from the table in disgust and slithered out of the room.
"
Prudent of us to restrict this channel to senior staff only." Khiwoulo said, glumly. "If that's how Quessa is feeling…"
Chad was staring out at the starfield, "I wonder if Nash would be so prudent," he said bitterly.
T'Arvit's eyes snapped open, her face still. "Lieutenant Liacross, you should begin checking the incoming casualty reports and cross-referencing it with crew family records. Then expand your search to include friends on social media, for those in the crew who have such information public. We will want to make sure they receive proper counselling. Commander Khiwoulo, I want you to begin analyzing the tactical data. They may call
Atuin up as a replacement ship. I wish for us to be prepared."
Khiwoulo and Liacross nodded, rising and heading for the door. Just before she exited, Khiwoulo looked at Voxu, still looking at the captain. "Uh, is he…?"
"No. Thank you, Commander."
The Rigellian exited and the door slid shut. A few seconds later T'Arvit stood up, moved to the wall console, and shut the feed from the battle off. She stood behind Chad's chair, loosely at attention with her arms behind her back.
"Good people are dying out there because of me." Chad said, breaking the silence that followed. "And I'm just sitting here."
"Do not be illogical." T'Arvit said, "You--"
"Do you think Kirk would have sat here, T'Arvit?" Chad said, standing up and walking over to press his forehead against the window, his back turned, "Do you think he would
listen to his fellow officers dying out there due to his mistake? No, he'd steal the Enterprise. Do you think Nash would have? No, she'd go and crush the Imperial fleet. Do you think any other, hypothetical, Explorer Corps captain would sit here? No, he would say instead, '
Ensign, set a course, and to hell with our orders.'"
T'Arvit shot a glance down the table to Voxu, who rose to speak. "Captain," he said, leaning forward on the table, "I understand you're bearing a lot of guilt. And I know logic isn't what you want right now. But none of this is your fault."
Chad glanced at Voxu, "If that's true what do they have us out here?" He turned back to the starfield, "The negotiations, then the destruction of those warp tracks, those both went wrong. All we've managed to do right is deliver some diplomats, and if it wasn't for a petty officer even that would have been screwed-up." His jaw clenched, "I don't think they trust me with anything Licori."
"Sir," Voxu said. He squinted at the Tellarite, turning and walking to join Chad at the window. "Chad." Voxu's tone of voice and syntax changed as he sifted through the Captain's thoughts, "Buddy, listen. They sent a Councilor along on that, for flip's sake. It's not like you were expected to do the heavy lifting, there."
"Maybe," Chad said, " Mrr'shan wasn't supposed to do the heavy lifting on Rethelia, either. But she staved off a riot all the same."
Voxu put his hand on Chad's shoulder "Dude, comparing yourself to others when you've been dealt a bad hand is…"
"Explorer Corps captains are supposed to
overcome bad hands, Aris!" Chad shouted, tearing his shoulder out of Voxu's grasp. Chad backed up, face immediately stricken with regret.
"...you don't think you're ready because you were only in the regular fleet, huh?"
Chad nodded, even though he didn't need to.
"Explorer Corps personnel face the No-Win Scenario, just the same as regular Starfleet personnel, Captain." T'Arvit said, startling the two men, "I believe you have found yourself caught in the midst of a geopolitical one. Raging at the circumstances is…" T'Arvit twitched an eyebrow as Chad faced her.
Chad crossed his arms, leaning back against the window, "Come on," he said, a note of good humor in his voice in spite of himself, "Say it again."
T'Arvit's eyebrow twitched again, "Not productive."
Chad snorted, "Nice save."
"Chad," Voxu said, "T'Arvit is right. You know almost as well as I do the Licori weren't there in good faith. We had a Councilor to help us out, which is some pretty heavy guns, dude."
"Ugh." Chad pressed his hands to his face, then dropped them, "I just don't know. I don't like the idea that this was all inevitable, that this is some… no win scenario. I don't like that. I don't like the idea there wasn't a solution in there somewhere. And I don't want to let myself off the hook by saying saying it was up to T'Prinit. It's not... Starfleet."
"Captain," T'Arvit said, "The
Atuin is more than you. The success of the Explorer Corps captains you mention is directly correlated with the skill of their crew. We have had failures, yes." Chad sighed hard at that, and Voxu gave T'Arvit a shake of his head. She pressed on, "Already our crew is showing efficiency reports far in advance of the
Voshov, and on par with the
S'harien, a ship with a longer history. That is directly attributable to you and your training regimen. Your ability to motivate the crew to learn more and to better themselves in every way." Just behind Chad, Voxu made a 'pat-pat' gesture above Chad's shoulder, staring at T'Arvit. Slowly, she put her hand on Chad's shoulder, and Voxu gave her a thumbs up. "The next challenge we face, we will be more prepared for. And we will overcome it."
Chad chuckled to himself, "With a pep talk like that, maybe you're the one who's keeping the crew motivated."
"I performed an analysis and have determined while I have contributed on some level," she withdrew her hand, "The largest single factor in crew improvement has been you, sir."
Chad smiled, "Thanks, T'Arvit." The smile turned sly, "You would have said that even if you
didn't perform that analysis, right?"
T'Arvit considered for a moment, "I perform such analysis to avoid lies of that nature." There was a pause, "I prefer to comfort people with objective facts."
Chad chuckled, letting out a breath, "Well if that works for you. Alright!" He said, clapping his hands, "Enough self-pity for the day -- belay that,
the year. Voxu, we should definitely follow up on this later. But I'm really worried we're going to have a very upset Apiata soon, nevermind other folks who might have lost friends and family. Or just feel sick of the whole thing." He glanced at T'Arvit, "Schedule more recreational time if needed. Don't let anyone get isolated."
Chad turned back to the window, "We've got a few weeks before my next log upload is due at Mission Control," he said. "The people at Gammon are dying to keep those stars out there safe for us to explore. Let's honor that and go find something amazing."
The stars were already looking brighter.
A/N: Inevitably the Captain's log update after this: Atuin destroyed, Chad disgraced, gg no re
