Rebecca sipped her coffee as she stood beside the window, looking out at Vulcan below. Starships, civilian ships, and even a few Vulcan ring ships darted about. Vulcan was a core Federation world, and there was tension in the air. If Betazed could fall, so could Vulcan.

The door chimed, and Rebecca turned to face it. “Enter.”

Riandri stepped in as she brushed more than a few strands of blonde hair from her face. Since the battle over Betazed, she had been running flat out with fleet intelligence and work on the ship helping to get it fully repaired. The latest piece of intel had her excited and she wanted to ensure the Captain and crew knew about it, “I think you may want to turn on FNN, there has been a development. The crew might want to see also….”

Sitting down behind her desk Rebecca entered her access codes and brought up the news report. She gave Riandri a questioning look, shrugged trusting her and sent it out shipwide. 

Comm stations all over the ship flashed on as the FNN logo above bold red letters appeared on the screens. A news anchor appeared sitting behind a desk. “Good morning, we have a developing story out of Romulus today. Senator Vreenak, a hard-line anti-Federation Senator who helped broker the non-aggression pact between the Star Empire and the Dominion, is dead. Early reports indicate that the Senator was returning from a diplomatic meeting at Soukara with the Dominion when his shuttle was destroyed. There are no survivors. Based on early reports, the explosive used to destroy the shuttle seems to implicate the Dominion.”

There was a pause as the anchor listened to the voice speaking in his ear. His carefully neutral expression fell in disbelief, “This just in. The Romulan Praetor has declared war on the Dominion as of 08:00. In a statement, the Praetor announced that the Tal Shiar had located a data rod containing a recording of a high-level meeting on Cardassia in which the planned invasion of Romulus was discussed. The Tal Shiar concludes Vreenak’s shuttle was destroyed in an effort to keep their treachery. Stay tuned as this story develops. For FNN, I am Morgan Daniels.”

Rebecca sat back in her seat, speechless, waiting for that other shoe to drop.

Riandri smiled, “I don’t know who, or what, has been looking out for us but this may be the break we need.” She stepped up and look out the window and admired the ships, “I never get tired of these views, it really goes to show what can happen when people work together. It will take time to get the fleets organized, and joint operations with the Romulans will be a nightmare but we have a chance now. And a good one.”

“You think?” Rebecca asked curiously. “There’s still a long way to go.”

Riandri smiled and let out a short laugh before turning towards Rebecca, “Humans, well the federation, and Romulans do seem to rub each other the wrong way. The few I have met always seemed fairly reasonable though they were often outcasts.” Walking towards the desk she stopped and clicked her tongue a few times, “What do you think the next step for us will be? Guess we need to wait and see what the Dominion does with this news.”

“Looks like our new friends have already hit fifteen bases along the border. If I know the Dominion they will pull back and continue to build up their fleet.” Rebecca rummaged around in her pile of PADDs, “It has come to my attention that as my acting XO you are performing tasks not befitting your rank.”

Riandri cocked an eyebrow at that before a slightly concerned expression flashed across her face, “How so? Is there something that I have missed?”

“You are out of proper uniform,” Rebecca replied flatly.

“Captain?” She asked, as she glanced down at her uniform and patted it down without thinking.

Finally finding what she looking for she stood and moved to stand before Riandri. “I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander.” She added the black half-pip to her collar.

At a loss for words, Riandri opened and closed her mouth twice before she found her footing. “Thank you, Captain, I, I will not disappoint you.” As she said that her right hand went up to her collar and she ran her fingers over the new pip and smiled. 

“You are welcome.” Tapping her combadge. “Talon to Master Chief Jeter, please come to the ready room.”

Jeter walked onto the bridge just before the report came on every screen and stopped. As he watched he could hear the excited chatter of the bridge crew increase. As it finished he let out a little laugh, “Well this changes everything.” A few moments later his combadge chimed and the Captain’s voice could be heard. Responding quickly he made his way to her ready room and activated the door chime.

“Enter,” Rebecca immediately responded. 

Stepping into the room Jeter nodded toward Riandri, noticing the new half pip on her collar. “I see congratulations are in order Lieutenant Commander,” he said with a smile before turning to the Captain. “Captain, what can I do for you?”

“Master Chief thanks for coming.”

Jeter nodded in response and stood at ease, “Anytime Captain.”

“Starfleet Command is taking a hard look at several of our senior NCOs.  Your name came up on the list.”

He blinked a couple of times, “How so?” 

“Master Chief,  Starfleet is seeing it necessary to grant you a battlefield promotion and a rank befitting your years of dedication and experience.” Rebecca found a wooden box within the clutter of her desk and handed it to Jeter. “With your new rank there comes a new job. Strategic Operations Officer.”

Jeter took the box tentatively and looked at it for a moment, “I, um, I am not sure what to say.” He slowly opened the box and his eyes went wide, within where the pips for of a Lieutenant Commander. “Captain this. This is too much.”

“Nonsense. It’s not enough,” Rebecca said with a wave of her hand. 

Riandri smiled at the former Master Chief, “The Captain is right, you have served for years and your knowledge and skill is without question.”

Jeter, still stunned by the news nodes again before looking to Riandri, “Strategi Ops, guess we will be working closely together on this.”

“Very much so.  I also want you to continue to be a liason between the command staff and the crew. They know and trust you. Also with your position it means you will be working closely with Ms. Nalam. She’s pulling dual duty and can use all the help she can get. Censoring the crew’s correspondence isn’t the most glamorous job, but necessary in keeping operational security.”

At that Jeter visibly relaxed, “I can do that without a problem, Captain. Been filling that role for a long time and it is almost second nature. As for working with Ms Nalam, I am happy to help everywhere.” He stopped for a moment and smirked, “Does this mean I get new quarters?” He asked with a slight laugh.

“I think that can be arranged,” Rebecca replied.  “For now, you have the bridge.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right away ma’am.” With that he turned and walked onto the bridge.

Bridge…

Collins heard some of the crew talking about the news report. He assumed that the Dominion had captured another Federation planet, but when he heard that the Romulans had declared war on the Dominion, he was shocked. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Arin blurted in raw surprise very nearly making the sign of the Cross. Her Irish brogue was thick. “Better with us. Yay?!”

Conroy looked over at Collins and chuckled, “yea the more weapons pointed down range at this point the better.” Conroy walked back and forth between consoles, looking over the system status. It would be some time before engineering would get around to everything. “I wonder where the Romulans will strike first?”

A couple of minutes after he walked off the bridge Jeter stepped back onto it. No longer the Denver’s Master Chief but a newly minted Lieutenant Commander. As he s stood by the door looking around, listening to the excited conversations he realized that in reality, nothing changed for him, he was there to ensure the ship ran properly. “So, we have a new ally people; let’s keep focused. I am sure we will have more information soon on joint operations.”

Not one to resist a well-timed shot, Arin commented. “Does that mean we can have Romulan Ale?” 

Jeter laughed at that, “Maybe but let’s wait to see if the ban on it is lifted. I don’t want to see bottles of it in the lounge.” He looked around at the crew, making eye contact with a few, “If, there is by chance any on the ship, lets keep it in your quarters shall we.”

Security offices…

Ensign Jack Holland has been doing an inventory of the armory with Ensign Viat.  He glanced down at his tricorder, “Inventory of Type 1 phasers match our records.”

“Plenty of type I and II hand phaser, We are a little light on anything heavier. The longer Type 3’s are passed around to the TRT and anyone scheduled to deploy us, with the exception of the ship’s normal complement for security aboard.”

“I don’t know about you,” Jack continued making idle conversation,  “It’s a bit weird now.  Going back to standard security duties after all that’s happened.”

“Normal security duties may not return for some time,” Gus said without emotion. “With the religious background of our enemy and their drug-induced fervor. I anticipate a longer conflict.”

Jack glanced up at Viat. This man may have been only an Ensign but he had a career as enlisted and a veteran.  Jack gave the Vulcan the same level of respect had he wore admiral’s insignia. Most of the NCOs and junior officers did.

“I didn’t mean to suggest… Well, I don’t know what I meant.  But, let’s face it being on Betazed in the thick of things and now here we are inventorying the armory is a bit of a night and day transition.  I… I… still have nightmares from that debacle.”

Gus remained still and quiet for a moment. “You are far from alone in that regard. Even with the mental disciplines afforded by my race and culture, the memories can be disturbing, sobering, and at the risk of a peak behind the Vulcan veil, aggravating.” There was the briefest of smiles. Just enough for Jack to notice and it was gone. “Should you need assistance in that regard, whether that is a sympathetic ear, drink, or perhaps a form of meditation? There are many. I prefer antique firearms myself.”

“Thanks… Uh… antique firearms?”

“Usually. I find it can be oddly calming when things go right. Plus it helps that they do not shoot back.” Gus added, Tilting his head in acknowledgment of the fact. “The skills to a point, do transfer to other forms of pistolcraft. Our resident Cavalryman, Milo, demonstrated experience and was highly effective with his ancient west lever gun.“Join me for a drink, please. Perhaps something rare and expensive to remember why we fight.  The logic is that if we don’t drink it, it will stay rare, expensive, and unsampled.” Gus offered.

“That sounds good,” Jack said with a weak smile. “Can I ask you a question?  What do you think of Talon’s decision to remain on Betazed and organize resistance cells? Should we have stayed to help him and disobeyed the order to return to the ship? Am I a coward for wanting to get out?”

It took a moment for Gus to reformulate a response. “Talon is an accomplished and experienced security officer. While I am unaware of what the details are, worrying about it is normal, and yet unproductive. I have little doubt that he will be a constant irritant in the Dominion’s side. Remain vigilant and we may yet have to opportunity to improve the situation.”

“Of course,” Jack said snapping his tricoder shut. “Let’s go get that drink and celebrate the Romulans as allies.”

Fighter Bay…

Órlaith stared down at her hands.   Her nails were broken and ragged and the wrinkles in her skin was filled with lines of black from oils, soot and all sorts of grim and filth.  

Sighing she leaned against the wing of the ship her arms and eyes heavy and rubbery.

Ming was, he knew, in shock.  The USS Tucson, his former ship, was destroyed with few survivors.  His former wing was decimated with three of the five, including his former flight commander (who was also his former lover), was among the dead. Erikson (Knight 5), who was his wingman from the start of this assignment, was in sickbay with massive radiation poisoning and burns.  

The efforts of the Knights managed to save two of the Rangers and three Sabercats.  The pilots of the Sabercats had found refuge in one of the other ships that managed to escape the blood bath of Betazed.  

Xellath had managed to find space for the two extra Peregrines of Rangers Three and Five.  Misty “Starr” Rogers, who was Ranger Three, was in sickbay in better shape than Erickson but hurting still.  Ranger five, Abeo Abara, was in the flight bay talking with the maintenance crew regarding the two Ranger fighters.  The Ebony Druid’s bass of a voice echoed across the bay which made Ming actually smile.   

The Knight’s commander sidled up to his protege and gave her a once over.  He came up beside her and said, “Hell of a mess.  What was that old song?  Welcome to My Nightmare….That’s it.  Sums things up I’d say.”

Órlaith glanced at Ming before wiping an errant strand of straw colored hair from her face with the back of her hand leaving a smudge of black grease.  “Twelve days later and our wing is still not even back to full strength. What will happen to our guests is anyone’s guess sir.  But yours and Lt. Sh’iv’s fighters are done. Knight Three is in the worst shape. If I had to guess it’s going to take another three to four days. We have some major hull repairs to do.”

Ming nodded and added, “Yeah.  But the fighters survived and are repairable with some work.  We lost two pilots along with their fighters of Sabercat flight and three out of the Rangers.  I knew all the Rangers except for the XO. That was my old team and they were some of the best.  Unfortunately war is a combination of talent mixed in with happensance and dumb luck.  Lt. JG. Rogers from the Rangers and our own Ensign Erikson are being transferred to Vulcan.  Erikson needs more work before he can fly again…Rogers too to a lesser degree.”

His eyes lowered to the deck for a moment as he steadied himself.  He added, “We lost some damned good people in that fight.  My old ship, the USS Tucson, was among the losses.  Not many survivors.  My old wing, the Rangers, were decimated including the CO.   Another 80 personal reasons for us to beat the Dominion.   And that’s only the folks that I knew.  Every soul lost out there was a family member, friend, lover, parent, offspring or sibling.   On top of that I’ll need a new wingman.  Ranger 5 might be possibly the best option out there though.  He’s experienced and has flown my wing when I was XO of the Rangers.”

“My father would have said their deaths were the price of their weakness,” Órlaith commented.  “I don’t know that that is true. It seems to me a lot off it just comes down to dumb luck.” Órlaith shrugged,  “Sorry about your friends.”

“The United States Civil War – 1861 to 1865 CE by the old Terran Calendar.  Both the United States Army and the rebelling Confederate States Army had some of the best, most brilliant commanders of that generation on BOTH sides.  Most people do not realize that by 1863 The United Kingdom and France were damned ready to jump in on the side of the Confederacy, due to their cotton, at the first decisive victory by the CSA.  The Battle of Gettysburg, July first to fourth of 1863, is widely known.  What is not widely known is that the battle happened because some months before a Confederate courier dropped a full copy of Robert E. Lee’s order 191 which detailed his entire plan for the war.  It was picked up by a Union Army corporal, as I recall.  That lead to the US Army intercepting the CS Army at Gettysburg turning the course of the whole war.  Had a Confederate soldier recovered and returned that plan or had the order been lost and never recovered at all this timeline wouldn’t likely exist.”

Ming paused and glanced at the woman beside him and summarized,  “It was a real pivot point in history.  It was as much happenstance as skill and the perfect illustration to every war that has ever happened.  You can do everything correctly and still lose.  As I understand it that last comment was uttered by Captain Jean-Luc Picard himself. It’s damned true either way whomever did or didn’t say it.”

Órlaith shurgged,  “But at least for once some positive news has come out of this war.”

“Good news would be long past due. The trick is to make things happen to where we get more news like that in the future.  I…have a hunch…that we’ll likely be going in that direction.  It felt like one of my hunches that I’ve found are usually spot on,” Ming said with a bit more thoughtfulness toward the end.

Officer’s Lounge…

Ensign Aoife McKenzie approached Collins and Conroy standing at the bar having a quiet conversation. 

Collins saw the ensign approaching. “What you drinking, ensign?”

“My da would say the only drink is Scotch,” Aoife said with a grin. “But he’s Scottish.” The engineer shrugged,  “Whatever ya’ll are having I guess.”

Collins signaled the bartender. “3 bourbons.”

Aoife accepted the drink, giving it a critical examination.  “Well, you only love once.” She sipped the drink feeling it burn the back of her throat. “So, the Romulans… Are they going to make a difference in this war?”

“No Romulans might just be the turning point in this war that we needed.” Collins sipped his bourbons.

“Anything at this point is a help,” Aoife agreed. “Fall back and retreat is getting real old. For once I want the Dominion to do that.”

“I don’t think for a minute that the Jem Hadar and the Dominion are going to stop until the very end. It might come to the Federation, Klingon and Romulan alliance might have to kill every last Jem Hadar and Founder to end this war.” Collins took another sip of his drink.

“Well, that’s an uncomfortable thought,” Aoife said with a frown.

“Yes, it is, though it’s the right thought. How many ships, colonies and stations personnel did the Jem Hadar wipe out? Thousands!” Collins replied.

“Far too many,” Aoife said with a sigh.

Romulan Capital City…

“Going somewhere?” A voice from the shadows asked. Garok emerged into the light of the office as Tomorah lowered her disruptor.

Senator Tomorah looked at the Tal Shiar agent with a critical expression before picking up a framed picture and setting it into the crate. “Yes. I have resigned my position within the Senate.”

Garok raised an eyebrow,  “And what will you be doing my friend?”

“I have accepted command of the Warbird Xoval.” Tomarah pulled a trio of ancient books from a shelf.  Ancient Vulcan was inscribed in tarnished gold leaf. She gave the books a quick once over before placing them into the crate. “I pushed for us to enter this wat. I know I was just one voice amongst many, but I will not send loyal Romulans into battle while I sit here in the safety of my office.”

Garok gave his protege a  appreciative nod. “I can respect that. I’ll do what I can to keep Tal Shiar operatives off your ship.” There was a long silence as Garok watched Tomorah pack up her office.  “I wanted you to know the Yal Shiar has finished analyzing the wreckage of Vreenak’s shuttle and have officially named the Dominion as the likely culprits of the sabotage.”

Tomorah paused and stared at her mentor,  “You aren’t convinced.”

Garok shrugged,  “It’s a little too tidy.  Vreenak gets ahold of a recording of the Dominion planning our invasion and then the Dominion sabotage his shuttle? Why not send a warship and blame the Federation? There are imperfections in the recording.  That’s being dismissed as a result of the damage.”

Tomorah stood with hard hands on her hips, “Keep those musings to yourself my friend. We both agreed that this was the only outcome,  we might as well join now that later before the Federation and Klingons are no longer able to mount an effective resistance.”

Garok nodded, “I will trust you on this matter.”

“Good,” Tomorah said as she shut the case’s lid and clicked the locks into place. “Now, if you will excuse me. My ship awaits.”