Omake - Heroes of the Empire Pt 2 - Briefvoice
Heroes of the Empire
Part 2
Read Part 1 here for this to make any sense.
"All warfare is based upon deception."
"Sir, the Romulan minefield is detonating. Seems to be a managed destruction with new explosions at regular intervals. Any ship executing an attack run is at risk," announced one of the Runhald's bridge officers.
Commodore Renhadd tapped his fingers together, considering a moment and speaking mostly to himself. "Whomever is in command over there is a fast thinker. I thought we would have at least twenty more sorties before they figured out their only possible course of action. If they ever did."
He raised his voice. "Transmit my command to the squadron. All ships are to break off the attack and encircle the minefield as per our previous contingencies. The D7 cruisers will be attempting to flee under cloak, using the mine detonations as cover. They've realized there's no hope of holding the mining colony, and the best they can achieve is to preserve themselves. We will not allow them to escape."
"So we've won," said Commander Segfed quietly from beside Renhadd's command seat.
Renhadd spoke in a low voice, pitched not to carry too far across the shadowed bridge of the Klingon cruiser. "We won before this operation started. There are enough ships in this squadron to have taken the colony if I had done nothing but bull in through the minefield, sacrificing two or three of my birds of prey to sweep a path. The question has always been, how complete will the victory be?"
"The great houses don't love you," said Segfed.
"They don't, my friend. They see me as an upstart, put in place by the Chancellor as a favor to his favorite. Only victory will silence them. Complete victory. I need to capture the mines, capture every Romulan on the colony, and destroy or damage of all the Romulan starships without losing a ship of my own. The greater the victory the stronger my position."
Segfed already knew this, of course. It was only the excitement of battle that was making Renhadd so voluble, unable to quite keep up his usual haughty remoteness. She elected not to respond and they studied the view screen and waited.
===
"I want to know to as soon as all the civilians are aboard the Sakti. No luggage, no discussion, just beam them into the ore chambers and flood the compartment with hybersleep gas. We can stretch out the destruction of the mines for less than two hours before there are so few left the Klingons will realize they can sweep right in," ordered Commander Wenlai.
He turned his attention to the next problem on the list. "Centurion Renke, can you make the cloak act like we need it to?"
The old engineering Centurion's voice echoed from the intercom. "I can do it; the question is if the Klingons see through it. Lucky they have their old Birds of Prey covering the direction we need to go, and sensors on those things are garbage even at extreme short range. We might just fool them, Commander."
Wenlai switched to another comms channel. "This is Commander Wenlai. What's the schedule for detonating the station?"
"We'll be ready to have it go boom just after we depart, Commander."
Wenlai took deep breath. To the bridge at large he announced, "Right. Well nothing more that I can do until everything's in place. I'm going to go eat something. Subcommander Lann has the bridge. Call me if you need me."
With that he sauntered off the bridge.
"Eating at a time like this?" asked the sensor operator in a low tone of voice.
"The Commander has laid out his plan, and he trusts us to do our parts. He believes in us," replied Subcommander Lann. "Just like we believe in him," he added more softly.
===
"Commodore, minefield explosion rate is increasing... all the remaining ones seem to be going up at once."
Renhadd pounded his armrest. "Finally they're making their move! Using the mines as a last gasp to blind our sensors while they try to escape."
"Why did they take so long?" wondered his weapons officer.
"Likely clearing out any sensitive information, collecting or executing any mine official who knows anything important, and preparing to destroy their station. Though it shouldn't have taken them this long. Probably stumbling over themselves in panic," said Renhadd with mild contempt.
"The Romulan station just exploded. It looks like that ore freighter went up with it," announced the sensors officer.
Renhadd smirked in triumph.
"Sir, the Y'Tem reports contact with both D7s. They seem to be flying in close formation. They're blinking in and out of cloak, firing torpedoes and re-cloaking as they move away."
"All ships, converge on them. Don't let them get away!" commanded Renhadd.
But Renhadd was frowning now. This didn't make sense. Recloaking in battle was generally of very little use. It consumed a great deal of power and couldn't really hope to hide you from any halfway decent sensors systems; not once you had already given away your position like that. He supposed against an old model bird of prey like the Y'Tem with its notoriously bad sensor systems it might provide some slight advantage, though it would still be diverting too much power away from shields.
There was a thrum as the K'Tinga's engines pushed themselves to maximum, and the squadron closed in around the fleeing Romulans. Fleeing somewhere specific in fact... they were headed directly to the disabled Romulan Bird of Prey.
Suspicion became certainty in Renhadd's mind. "Recalibrate your sensors to focus on composition, not position. Compare those two D7s," he ordered.
Tense seconds later his sensors operator looked up. "Sir! They're the same ship. It's blinking its cloak and using massive vector changes to pretend to be two cruisers flying in formation, but there's only one there."
"A sacrifice play. One ship gives itself up and the other gets away," said Renhadd with some admiration in his voice. "Let's make them pay for it. Converge on that D7."
===
"Sir, we've made it to the Inclutus, but the Klingon ships are encircling us."
"No changes to previous orders," said Wenlai.
A tractor beam emerged from the Hyperon and pulled the Inclutus in close. Tugging the slightly smaller ship, it took off at maximum speed. Briefly its shields dropped and Klingon disruptor beams and torpedoes homed in, but the Hyperon maneuvered to block the hits with the Inclutus.
"Transporter room says we beamed aboard all survivors from the Inclutus in time."
"Shields back up... shields up!" said Commander Wenlai, unnecessarily.
"I know we needed for the Inclutus for the plan but it dropping our shields to beam aboard survivors wasn't exactly safe," murmured Subcommander Lann.
"If you wanted safe, you shouldn't have joined the navy," replied Wenlai. "Now if we can make it to the gas giant before they break through our shields, we might just make it out of this.
===
"Sir, they're on a course for the system's gas giant. We're firing on them, but I don't think we'll break down their shields before they get there. I don't understand how they can move so fast towing another ship nearly their own size."
Commodore Renhadd nodded distractedly. "One of the few redeeming feature of that obsolete piece of engineering is its tractor beam capability. They're quite good at towing... towing..." his eyes widened in realization.
"Order the Vor'Cha to break off pursuit. Head back to the colony site with three birds of prey and commence scanning for a cloaked D7 towing a freighter. It would be just within its capabilities to expand its cloak enough to cover a tow. They used the station's explosion to mask their signature leaving the area."
Even as he gave the order, though, Renhadd knew the odds were low of success. The D7 could have headed off in any direction, and all the antimatter explosions in the area were bound to have disturbed subspace enough to make tracking a cloaked warp signature difficult.
"Commodore, the vessel we're pursuing reached the gas giant. It... it blew up the vessel it was towing and then cloaked itself. The explosion combined with the planet's gravity well and electromagnetic field is disrupting our sensors. I can't track it."
Renhadd clenched his teeth and tightened his fist so much his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand.
"Sir. This is still a great victory. The mining site is captured. Two Romulan warships were destroyed, and none of our ships were so much as damaged. No one will care that you didn't capture some Romulan mining personnel," reassured Segfed.
The commodore opened his fist and composed his face into a calm expression. "Of course you're correct Segfed. But still... someday I'll face that Romulan commander again, and when that time comes I will not be fooled by his tricks again."
===
Some time later....
"So you wish to join my staff?" said Renhadd to the slightly-built Klingon in front of him.
"I do, Commodore. Admiral Kerkat has given his permission. Or more accurately said he's glad to be rid of me. He seems to find me... weak."
"And are you weak, Commander Berst?"
Berst looked to Commander Segfed then back at Renhadd.
"Segfed has been at my side ever since we were children. I hold no more secrets from her than I would from my right hand. Speak freely."
Berst nodded in acceptance. "Oh yes. I'm a very weak Klingon. A shame to the Empire. But with nothing but weakness to work with, I have made it my strength. I watch, I pay attention, and I read the political winds. I know you are a man of great ambition. I want to help you achieve those ambitions."
"My ambitions? What do you think those ambitions are?"
"Two generations ago your house was a noble house. Important. But your grandfather and father squandered their power and your house's power waned to nothing. You were brought so low your father ended up selling your sister to the Chancellor when she caught his eye. You are a commander of great ability, but 99 out of 100 times ability falls to influence in our Empire. You have the command that you do because the Chancellor's favorite begged it of him."
Renhadd's face was tight with anger. "You have a good grasp on my personal history, and some courage to say these things to my face. So what do you think my ambitions are?"
"Others think you merely want to rebuild your house's power. But that's not it, is it?" asked Berst.
"No."
"No. You, like I do, yearn for a reformed Empire. One based on merit rather than houses and bloodlines. You see, this is the clarity of weakness. I've listened to things you say, rather than making assumptions."
"You say that is what you want as well, Commander Berst?"
"I want an Empire where my talents will be recognized rather than sneered at because I don't have a heart built for war. And I believe you to be a man who values talent above all else."
Renhadd showed his teeth. "I don't know you yet, Commander Berst. But if a man comes to me asking for a chance to prove himself, I give it to him. Perhaps your talents will prove useful in their way.
"As to my ambitions... war provides opportunity. The more glory I gain, the more success I have, the more who will flock to my banner. I will crush the Romulans, and then... why then any ambition at all may be within reach."
Turning from Berst, Renhadd glanced out a window at the stars beyond and raised his hand. For a moment it seemed like the galaxy shone within his palm.
===
Commander Wenlai sat in Admiral Beckek's office. He waited, trying not to look bored, while a Centurion carefully scanned the officer with a handheld detector. Finally she turned to Admiral Beckek. "Everything seems clean, sir. You're as safe to talk here as you are anywhere."
Beckek nodded, but did not dismiss the Centurion, instead gesturing for her to remain. She then turned to Wenlai. "Well Commander, this is a conversation I've been meaning to have with you for some time. Let's get this out of the way first."
She reached down to her desk and pulled out a small box, then tossed it to Wenlai. He opened it and found the rank tabs of a Commodore. He looked at Admiral Beckek and she nodded.
"Yes, the paperwork will come through soon, but I'm promoting you. I need you out there winning battles, Wenlai. I need you to beat the Klingons."
"You have a lot of confidence in me."
"If you had been in charge at Alixros instead of Commodore Frok, could you have saved the colony?"
Wenlai rubbed his head and looked uncomfortable. "Who can say? That Klingon commander was pretty sharp. But with another couple of Birds of Prey to play with... I have a few ideas about how I could have held them off."
"I've studied mission reports, and it seems this isn't the first time a bad situation could have been salvaged if you hadn't been overruled by your superiors. In my opinion you're the best officer in the navy when it comes to fleet actions, and not by a small amount. Don't repeat that, obviously... I don't need to deal with bruised egos from the other admirals. Though I think if I let you off the leash with your own attack squadron, they'll be saying it themselves soon enough."
"I'm flattered."
"But you're also lazy, insolent, and worst of all suspected of being politically unreliable. Writing your academic monographs on history is a fine and noble thing, but there are parts of history where attention is not appreciated. Parts of history that serve only to embarrass."
Wenali looked annoyed and defiant. "History that we don't like looking at is the only part that will teach us anything. I only joined the navy because I thought I could retire with a pension that would let me study history full time."
Admiral Beckek looked amused. "I'm sure you did. Still doesn't change the fact that it's attracted the wrong kind of attention, and if I'm going to become your patron I need to safeguard my investment."
Wenlai leaned back in surprise. Patronage was a serious offer, especially to a no-name like himself who wasn't from a line of client families. Beckek's family wasn't quite one of the really old lines, but they were distinguished enough. He'd owe her a lot, but it meant she really would have to protect him… someone she had just described as politically unreliable.
Taking his acceptance for granted, Beckek continued. "That's why Centurion Frad is here. Introduce yourself, Centurion." She gestured at the centurion who had been waiting silently.
Frad stepped forward. "I'm with the Directorate of Naval Reconnaissance. I'm to shadow you and keep the Tal- keep you free from entanglement with Correctors from other espionage services. From now on, where you go I go, sir."
Wenlai smirked. "Oh? And who did you anger to draw that assignment?"
"It appears you don't remember me. Not a surprise; you were looking exhausted when we met. I'm one of the people you beamed off the Inclutus. Beamed out after hours waiting in the dark while the air ran out, waiting for the Klingons to get around to- I volunteered for this, sir."
The smirk had been wiped off Wenlai's face. "Uh, I see. You're welcome."
"That will be all, Centurion. Leave us. I want to have a private conversation with Commodore Wenlai," ordered Admiral Beckek.
Frad saluted and left, pausing to seal the door carefully behind her.
"The Directorate of Naval Reconnaissance, the navy's own spy agency. Rumor is that that Tal Shiar think they're jokes, and the joke is that a quarter of them also work for the Tal Shiar," said Wenlai.
"The DNR has limited capabilities, but at least they're navy officers and they take orders from our chain of command. As far as working for the Tal Shiar, I am as certain as one can ever be that Frad does not work for them."
"Why is that?" asked Wenlai.
"Centurion Frad is my daughter."
There was a long pause. "I see," said Wenlai, and he did. Many things were becoming clear.
"Of course, all Tal Shiar agents are someone's daughter," said Beckek. "But I'm as certain as one can be."
"And yet you asked her to leave the room," observed Wenlai.
The Admiral reached into her desk and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. She filled them both with alcohol and handed one to him. After they had both taken a drink she asked, "Wenlai... what is wrong with the Empire?"
Wenlai stared at the admiral for a good long while. He slumped in his chair, quite deliberately letting go of any semblance of military posture. He slapped his own leg and sighed. "All right... why not. I could go on for hours about the need for greater accountability in decision-making, archaic control of the means of production and resources, and lack of responsible information flow... but it all boils down to the need for reform and what's blocking that reform.
"I'm a student of history, and it amazes me how people can think that the way things are today is the way that things have always been. Even people who lived through the past themselves! Fifty years ago, things really were different. The Senate was still the Senate... a conservative institution, but they were opening up lesser political offices to public competition, even local elections. There was public debate, open political dissent, and things were getting interesting. From all the records I can find, change was in the air.
"But the really old families, they didn't like the idea of new blood at all. They saw power for anyone else as less power for themselves, Then some bright bulbs in that reactionary faction had an idea. What if, they thought to themselves, what if we turn our spy agency inwards? The Tal Shiar already existed, formed to protect us from enemies of the Romulan people. So they declared everyone who disagreed with them an enemy of the people, and set it loose.
"They even had a great excuse to hand. The alliance with the Klingons, the one no one likes to talk about today, was pushed by the reformists. When that soured it made it very easy to brand those reformists as traitors, purge them, and silence dissenting voices. Now here we are today where writing a few academic papers on parts of history they don't like is enough to make me 'politically unreliable'."
Wenlai finished off his drink. "So what is wrong with the Empire? The Tal Shiar is what's wrong with the Empire, or at least the way it's used. It needs to go, and go in a way that stops the Senate families from replacing it with their own private armies."
Admiral Beckek refilled both their glasses. "You will never again repeat that out loud," she said casually.
Wenlai started to drink, then choked on it and began coughing when he heard her next words.
"Unless and until the day comes you're broadcasting it from orbit as an explanation for your actions."
They stared at each other. Eventually, Yang looked away. "The Imperial Navy is supposed to be apolitical. Serve the state and only the state and no one else... not even each other," he said.
"Which means it's the only power center outside the control of those reactionary old families. It's the only tool available to bring about the reform you talk about," replied the admiral.
Wenlai's face had gone greenish. "Now I do believe you're not recording this conversation. Wouldn't matter if you claimed you were trying to entrap me or something… what you just said is enough to get you shot. What… you want to be a military dictator?"
"No, not me. Such a thing would only be possible if there were an admiral so loved by the rank and file that they would follow that person anywhere. I'm too much one of the old families. I would never be loved like that. They would have to love such a person… well, the way that your people seem to love you."
Angry now, Wenlai made a sharp gesture with his hand. "Leave me out of your crazy plans. I have no interest."
"We will see how much of a choice you have, Commodore. I'm going to send you out, and you're going to fight the Klingons and you're going to win, because you're you and you won't be able to bear your people getting killed. You'll be admired and loved by the navy because you're you. I'm going to protect you from political retribution until you're too visible and too useful to be easily disposed of. After all that, we'll see how much of a choice you have."
Wenlai took a ragged breath. "Permission to leave, sir."
"We will not speak of this again. Not for a long time. Who knows; if the war goes badly enough all of this may be moot. I want you to remember our conversation, though. Not just what I said to you. What you said to me, about the real problems of the Empire. Remember."
"I"m not likely to forget. Permission to leave, sir."
"Granted."
As Wenlai bolted from his seat, her voice stopped him just before he reached the door. "Oh, and Wenlai?"
"Sir," he said, not turning back around.
"Take good care of my daughter. As I said, the rank-and-file all love you."
Commodore Wenlai left the room.
===
Notes: That concludes 'Heroes of the Empire', me inserting some LoGH expies into the Boldly Go Universe. I don't know if @OneirosTheWriter will decide to canonize any of this, but I like the idea of this kind of clash of personality and ideology happening outside the Federation's border. The notion that the winners and losers of the Klingon-Romulan war are important not only for their own sake, but because victory will give individuals within those empires the power to reshape their respective nations.
Again, thanks to @AKuz for review and comments that helped me get the Romulan politics sorted out.
Part 2
Read Part 1 here for this to make any sense.
"All warfare is based upon deception."
"Sir, the Romulan minefield is detonating. Seems to be a managed destruction with new explosions at regular intervals. Any ship executing an attack run is at risk," announced one of the Runhald's bridge officers.
Commodore Renhadd tapped his fingers together, considering a moment and speaking mostly to himself. "Whomever is in command over there is a fast thinker. I thought we would have at least twenty more sorties before they figured out their only possible course of action. If they ever did."
He raised his voice. "Transmit my command to the squadron. All ships are to break off the attack and encircle the minefield as per our previous contingencies. The D7 cruisers will be attempting to flee under cloak, using the mine detonations as cover. They've realized there's no hope of holding the mining colony, and the best they can achieve is to preserve themselves. We will not allow them to escape."
"So we've won," said Commander Segfed quietly from beside Renhadd's command seat.
Renhadd spoke in a low voice, pitched not to carry too far across the shadowed bridge of the Klingon cruiser. "We won before this operation started. There are enough ships in this squadron to have taken the colony if I had done nothing but bull in through the minefield, sacrificing two or three of my birds of prey to sweep a path. The question has always been, how complete will the victory be?"
"The great houses don't love you," said Segfed.
"They don't, my friend. They see me as an upstart, put in place by the Chancellor as a favor to his favorite. Only victory will silence them. Complete victory. I need to capture the mines, capture every Romulan on the colony, and destroy or damage of all the Romulan starships without losing a ship of my own. The greater the victory the stronger my position."
Segfed already knew this, of course. It was only the excitement of battle that was making Renhadd so voluble, unable to quite keep up his usual haughty remoteness. She elected not to respond and they studied the view screen and waited.
===
"I want to know to as soon as all the civilians are aboard the Sakti. No luggage, no discussion, just beam them into the ore chambers and flood the compartment with hybersleep gas. We can stretch out the destruction of the mines for less than two hours before there are so few left the Klingons will realize they can sweep right in," ordered Commander Wenlai.
He turned his attention to the next problem on the list. "Centurion Renke, can you make the cloak act like we need it to?"
The old engineering Centurion's voice echoed from the intercom. "I can do it; the question is if the Klingons see through it. Lucky they have their old Birds of Prey covering the direction we need to go, and sensors on those things are garbage even at extreme short range. We might just fool them, Commander."
Wenlai switched to another comms channel. "This is Commander Wenlai. What's the schedule for detonating the station?"
"We'll be ready to have it go boom just after we depart, Commander."
Wenlai took deep breath. To the bridge at large he announced, "Right. Well nothing more that I can do until everything's in place. I'm going to go eat something. Subcommander Lann has the bridge. Call me if you need me."
With that he sauntered off the bridge.
"Eating at a time like this?" asked the sensor operator in a low tone of voice.
"The Commander has laid out his plan, and he trusts us to do our parts. He believes in us," replied Subcommander Lann. "Just like we believe in him," he added more softly.
===
"Commodore, minefield explosion rate is increasing... all the remaining ones seem to be going up at once."
Renhadd pounded his armrest. "Finally they're making their move! Using the mines as a last gasp to blind our sensors while they try to escape."
"Why did they take so long?" wondered his weapons officer.
"Likely clearing out any sensitive information, collecting or executing any mine official who knows anything important, and preparing to destroy their station. Though it shouldn't have taken them this long. Probably stumbling over themselves in panic," said Renhadd with mild contempt.
"The Romulan station just exploded. It looks like that ore freighter went up with it," announced the sensors officer.
Renhadd smirked in triumph.
"Sir, the Y'Tem reports contact with both D7s. They seem to be flying in close formation. They're blinking in and out of cloak, firing torpedoes and re-cloaking as they move away."
"All ships, converge on them. Don't let them get away!" commanded Renhadd.
But Renhadd was frowning now. This didn't make sense. Recloaking in battle was generally of very little use. It consumed a great deal of power and couldn't really hope to hide you from any halfway decent sensors systems; not once you had already given away your position like that. He supposed against an old model bird of prey like the Y'Tem with its notoriously bad sensor systems it might provide some slight advantage, though it would still be diverting too much power away from shields.
There was a thrum as the K'Tinga's engines pushed themselves to maximum, and the squadron closed in around the fleeing Romulans. Fleeing somewhere specific in fact... they were headed directly to the disabled Romulan Bird of Prey.
Suspicion became certainty in Renhadd's mind. "Recalibrate your sensors to focus on composition, not position. Compare those two D7s," he ordered.
Tense seconds later his sensors operator looked up. "Sir! They're the same ship. It's blinking its cloak and using massive vector changes to pretend to be two cruisers flying in formation, but there's only one there."
"A sacrifice play. One ship gives itself up and the other gets away," said Renhadd with some admiration in his voice. "Let's make them pay for it. Converge on that D7."
===
"Sir, we've made it to the Inclutus, but the Klingon ships are encircling us."
"No changes to previous orders," said Wenlai.
A tractor beam emerged from the Hyperon and pulled the Inclutus in close. Tugging the slightly smaller ship, it took off at maximum speed. Briefly its shields dropped and Klingon disruptor beams and torpedoes homed in, but the Hyperon maneuvered to block the hits with the Inclutus.
"Transporter room says we beamed aboard all survivors from the Inclutus in time."
"Shields back up... shields up!" said Commander Wenlai, unnecessarily.
"I know we needed for the Inclutus for the plan but it dropping our shields to beam aboard survivors wasn't exactly safe," murmured Subcommander Lann.
"If you wanted safe, you shouldn't have joined the navy," replied Wenlai. "Now if we can make it to the gas giant before they break through our shields, we might just make it out of this.
===
"Sir, they're on a course for the system's gas giant. We're firing on them, but I don't think we'll break down their shields before they get there. I don't understand how they can move so fast towing another ship nearly their own size."
Commodore Renhadd nodded distractedly. "One of the few redeeming feature of that obsolete piece of engineering is its tractor beam capability. They're quite good at towing... towing..." his eyes widened in realization.
"Order the Vor'Cha to break off pursuit. Head back to the colony site with three birds of prey and commence scanning for a cloaked D7 towing a freighter. It would be just within its capabilities to expand its cloak enough to cover a tow. They used the station's explosion to mask their signature leaving the area."
Even as he gave the order, though, Renhadd knew the odds were low of success. The D7 could have headed off in any direction, and all the antimatter explosions in the area were bound to have disturbed subspace enough to make tracking a cloaked warp signature difficult.
"Commodore, the vessel we're pursuing reached the gas giant. It... it blew up the vessel it was towing and then cloaked itself. The explosion combined with the planet's gravity well and electromagnetic field is disrupting our sensors. I can't track it."
Renhadd clenched his teeth and tightened his fist so much his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand.
"Sir. This is still a great victory. The mining site is captured. Two Romulan warships were destroyed, and none of our ships were so much as damaged. No one will care that you didn't capture some Romulan mining personnel," reassured Segfed.
The commodore opened his fist and composed his face into a calm expression. "Of course you're correct Segfed. But still... someday I'll face that Romulan commander again, and when that time comes I will not be fooled by his tricks again."
===
Some time later....
"So you wish to join my staff?" said Renhadd to the slightly-built Klingon in front of him.
"I do, Commodore. Admiral Kerkat has given his permission. Or more accurately said he's glad to be rid of me. He seems to find me... weak."
"And are you weak, Commander Berst?"
Berst looked to Commander Segfed then back at Renhadd.
"Segfed has been at my side ever since we were children. I hold no more secrets from her than I would from my right hand. Speak freely."
Berst nodded in acceptance. "Oh yes. I'm a very weak Klingon. A shame to the Empire. But with nothing but weakness to work with, I have made it my strength. I watch, I pay attention, and I read the political winds. I know you are a man of great ambition. I want to help you achieve those ambitions."
"My ambitions? What do you think those ambitions are?"
"Two generations ago your house was a noble house. Important. But your grandfather and father squandered their power and your house's power waned to nothing. You were brought so low your father ended up selling your sister to the Chancellor when she caught his eye. You are a commander of great ability, but 99 out of 100 times ability falls to influence in our Empire. You have the command that you do because the Chancellor's favorite begged it of him."
Renhadd's face was tight with anger. "You have a good grasp on my personal history, and some courage to say these things to my face. So what do you think my ambitions are?"
"Others think you merely want to rebuild your house's power. But that's not it, is it?" asked Berst.
"No."
"No. You, like I do, yearn for a reformed Empire. One based on merit rather than houses and bloodlines. You see, this is the clarity of weakness. I've listened to things you say, rather than making assumptions."
"You say that is what you want as well, Commander Berst?"
"I want an Empire where my talents will be recognized rather than sneered at because I don't have a heart built for war. And I believe you to be a man who values talent above all else."
Renhadd showed his teeth. "I don't know you yet, Commander Berst. But if a man comes to me asking for a chance to prove himself, I give it to him. Perhaps your talents will prove useful in their way.
"As to my ambitions... war provides opportunity. The more glory I gain, the more success I have, the more who will flock to my banner. I will crush the Romulans, and then... why then any ambition at all may be within reach."
Turning from Berst, Renhadd glanced out a window at the stars beyond and raised his hand. For a moment it seemed like the galaxy shone within his palm.
===
Commander Wenlai sat in Admiral Beckek's office. He waited, trying not to look bored, while a Centurion carefully scanned the officer with a handheld detector. Finally she turned to Admiral Beckek. "Everything seems clean, sir. You're as safe to talk here as you are anywhere."
Beckek nodded, but did not dismiss the Centurion, instead gesturing for her to remain. She then turned to Wenlai. "Well Commander, this is a conversation I've been meaning to have with you for some time. Let's get this out of the way first."
She reached down to her desk and pulled out a small box, then tossed it to Wenlai. He opened it and found the rank tabs of a Commodore. He looked at Admiral Beckek and she nodded.
"Yes, the paperwork will come through soon, but I'm promoting you. I need you out there winning battles, Wenlai. I need you to beat the Klingons."
"You have a lot of confidence in me."
"If you had been in charge at Alixros instead of Commodore Frok, could you have saved the colony?"
Wenlai rubbed his head and looked uncomfortable. "Who can say? That Klingon commander was pretty sharp. But with another couple of Birds of Prey to play with... I have a few ideas about how I could have held them off."
"I've studied mission reports, and it seems this isn't the first time a bad situation could have been salvaged if you hadn't been overruled by your superiors. In my opinion you're the best officer in the navy when it comes to fleet actions, and not by a small amount. Don't repeat that, obviously... I don't need to deal with bruised egos from the other admirals. Though I think if I let you off the leash with your own attack squadron, they'll be saying it themselves soon enough."
"I'm flattered."
"But you're also lazy, insolent, and worst of all suspected of being politically unreliable. Writing your academic monographs on history is a fine and noble thing, but there are parts of history where attention is not appreciated. Parts of history that serve only to embarrass."
Wenali looked annoyed and defiant. "History that we don't like looking at is the only part that will teach us anything. I only joined the navy because I thought I could retire with a pension that would let me study history full time."
Admiral Beckek looked amused. "I'm sure you did. Still doesn't change the fact that it's attracted the wrong kind of attention, and if I'm going to become your patron I need to safeguard my investment."
Wenlai leaned back in surprise. Patronage was a serious offer, especially to a no-name like himself who wasn't from a line of client families. Beckek's family wasn't quite one of the really old lines, but they were distinguished enough. He'd owe her a lot, but it meant she really would have to protect him… someone she had just described as politically unreliable.
Taking his acceptance for granted, Beckek continued. "That's why Centurion Frad is here. Introduce yourself, Centurion." She gestured at the centurion who had been waiting silently.
Frad stepped forward. "I'm with the Directorate of Naval Reconnaissance. I'm to shadow you and keep the Tal- keep you free from entanglement with Correctors from other espionage services. From now on, where you go I go, sir."
Wenlai smirked. "Oh? And who did you anger to draw that assignment?"
"It appears you don't remember me. Not a surprise; you were looking exhausted when we met. I'm one of the people you beamed off the Inclutus. Beamed out after hours waiting in the dark while the air ran out, waiting for the Klingons to get around to- I volunteered for this, sir."
The smirk had been wiped off Wenlai's face. "Uh, I see. You're welcome."
"That will be all, Centurion. Leave us. I want to have a private conversation with Commodore Wenlai," ordered Admiral Beckek.
Frad saluted and left, pausing to seal the door carefully behind her.
"The Directorate of Naval Reconnaissance, the navy's own spy agency. Rumor is that that Tal Shiar think they're jokes, and the joke is that a quarter of them also work for the Tal Shiar," said Wenlai.
"The DNR has limited capabilities, but at least they're navy officers and they take orders from our chain of command. As far as working for the Tal Shiar, I am as certain as one can ever be that Frad does not work for them."
"Why is that?" asked Wenlai.
"Centurion Frad is my daughter."
There was a long pause. "I see," said Wenlai, and he did. Many things were becoming clear.
"Of course, all Tal Shiar agents are someone's daughter," said Beckek. "But I'm as certain as one can be."
"And yet you asked her to leave the room," observed Wenlai.
The Admiral reached into her desk and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. She filled them both with alcohol and handed one to him. After they had both taken a drink she asked, "Wenlai... what is wrong with the Empire?"
Wenlai stared at the admiral for a good long while. He slumped in his chair, quite deliberately letting go of any semblance of military posture. He slapped his own leg and sighed. "All right... why not. I could go on for hours about the need for greater accountability in decision-making, archaic control of the means of production and resources, and lack of responsible information flow... but it all boils down to the need for reform and what's blocking that reform.
"I'm a student of history, and it amazes me how people can think that the way things are today is the way that things have always been. Even people who lived through the past themselves! Fifty years ago, things really were different. The Senate was still the Senate... a conservative institution, but they were opening up lesser political offices to public competition, even local elections. There was public debate, open political dissent, and things were getting interesting. From all the records I can find, change was in the air.
"But the really old families, they didn't like the idea of new blood at all. They saw power for anyone else as less power for themselves, Then some bright bulbs in that reactionary faction had an idea. What if, they thought to themselves, what if we turn our spy agency inwards? The Tal Shiar already existed, formed to protect us from enemies of the Romulan people. So they declared everyone who disagreed with them an enemy of the people, and set it loose.
"They even had a great excuse to hand. The alliance with the Klingons, the one no one likes to talk about today, was pushed by the reformists. When that soured it made it very easy to brand those reformists as traitors, purge them, and silence dissenting voices. Now here we are today where writing a few academic papers on parts of history they don't like is enough to make me 'politically unreliable'."
Wenlai finished off his drink. "So what is wrong with the Empire? The Tal Shiar is what's wrong with the Empire, or at least the way it's used. It needs to go, and go in a way that stops the Senate families from replacing it with their own private armies."
Admiral Beckek refilled both their glasses. "You will never again repeat that out loud," she said casually.
Wenlai started to drink, then choked on it and began coughing when he heard her next words.
"Unless and until the day comes you're broadcasting it from orbit as an explanation for your actions."
They stared at each other. Eventually, Yang looked away. "The Imperial Navy is supposed to be apolitical. Serve the state and only the state and no one else... not even each other," he said.
"Which means it's the only power center outside the control of those reactionary old families. It's the only tool available to bring about the reform you talk about," replied the admiral.
Wenlai's face had gone greenish. "Now I do believe you're not recording this conversation. Wouldn't matter if you claimed you were trying to entrap me or something… what you just said is enough to get you shot. What… you want to be a military dictator?"
"No, not me. Such a thing would only be possible if there were an admiral so loved by the rank and file that they would follow that person anywhere. I'm too much one of the old families. I would never be loved like that. They would have to love such a person… well, the way that your people seem to love you."
Angry now, Wenlai made a sharp gesture with his hand. "Leave me out of your crazy plans. I have no interest."
"We will see how much of a choice you have, Commodore. I'm going to send you out, and you're going to fight the Klingons and you're going to win, because you're you and you won't be able to bear your people getting killed. You'll be admired and loved by the navy because you're you. I'm going to protect you from political retribution until you're too visible and too useful to be easily disposed of. After all that, we'll see how much of a choice you have."
Wenlai took a ragged breath. "Permission to leave, sir."
"We will not speak of this again. Not for a long time. Who knows; if the war goes badly enough all of this may be moot. I want you to remember our conversation, though. Not just what I said to you. What you said to me, about the real problems of the Empire. Remember."
"I"m not likely to forget. Permission to leave, sir."
"Granted."
As Wenlai bolted from his seat, her voice stopped him just before he reached the door. "Oh, and Wenlai?"
"Sir," he said, not turning back around.
"Take good care of my daughter. As I said, the rank-and-file all love you."
Commodore Wenlai left the room.
===
Notes: That concludes 'Heroes of the Empire', me inserting some LoGH expies into the Boldly Go Universe. I don't know if @OneirosTheWriter will decide to canonize any of this, but I like the idea of this kind of clash of personality and ideology happening outside the Federation's border. The notion that the winners and losers of the Klingon-Romulan war are important not only for their own sake, but because victory will give individuals within those empires the power to reshape their respective nations.
Again, thanks to @AKuz for review and comments that helped me get the Romulan politics sorted out.
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