“I can’t explain it,” Commander John Castillo shrugged as he stared at the display in the Juno‘s ready room. “For over a month, the Blackout has obscured everything beyond No’Mat, but forty minutes ago, we could suddenly see several sectors deeper into Klingon territory.” It was as though someone had flipped on a light switch, and now the galaxy was a little less dark.
“Wonder if someone finally figured out how to knock down the walls of the Blackout,” Captain Anthony Knight inferred. The subspace anomaly had sliced the galaxy into isolated little slivers, turning interstellar navies into regional defense forces and preventing any sort of organized response to the invasion. How to overcome it had been top of mind for the Juno‘s crew, but as to date, they had made no progress. Maybe someone else had though.
“It’s just as likely the Vaadwaur were responsible,” Commander Maya Sirona suggested. “This could all be part of their plan.” She knew the Vaadwaur. They were a cunning species, one the Borg first encountered in 1484, and she was reluctant to overlook that this could all just be the beginning of some next phase in their campaign. “They’re the ones that created the Blackout so it figures they’re the most likely to manipulate it.”
“Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you, Maya?” Captain Knight frowned. He respected her for it though, the reality check she always offered. The xB frequently saw possibilities the rest of them did not. “John, have we seen similar changes along any other vectors?”
“Unfortunately not,” Commander Castillo shook his head, going straight to where he knew the captain’s mind was. “Archanis Station and Starbase 86 are still unreachable, as are any of our systems and stations more coreward.” The only knowledge they had of the broader galaxy’s situation had come via the Pathfinder signal from Fourth Fleet Command.
“How about Qo’noS?” Commander Sirona inquired.
The other two looked over at her.
“If we can’t get help from our people,” Commander Sirona pointed out. “We might as well solicit it from our neighbors. This affects them too, and the Klingons have never been the type to just roll over and submit.” While intelligence was sparse, they’d received reports that the Klingons had been hit hard. With the fall of this boundary, maybe the Empire could be an ally in their fight.
“Unfortunately, no dice on Qo’noS,” Commander Castillo replied as he rechecked the data. “But we do have eyes on Beta Penthe and K’t’inga now.”
“That’s still something,” Captain Knight smiled as he looked over at his executive officer. “The Empire’s grandest fleet yard and an industrial penal colony, both likely to have a strong military presence. Looks like your idea might have legs, Maya.” Not that he relished the idea.
“I’ll have the team start analyzing the SIGINT to better understand their situation,” Commander Sirona volunteered. A wounded animal could still bite, she knew, and even before the coming of the Blackout and the Vaadwaur, things had already been tense with the Klingon Empire. “We’ll develop a solid sitrep first so we know what we’re walking into before we cross the border.”
“What about waiting to see if another Blackout boundary drops?” Commander Castillo asked. In his eyes, the Klingons had always seemed more trouble than they were worth. They’d certainly be down for a fight, but whether they could be kept focused, organized and coordinated, as would be necessary to actually win, that was a whole different question.
“If another boundary drops while we’re doing our analysis, we will of course reconsider,” Captain Knight acknowledged. “But if not, I’m inclined to pursue this option. Anything is better than sitting here waiting for another shoe to drop.” He was tired of being so reactive, waiting for a distress call to go out and then racing to its origin, only to arrive too late to really do anything.
Suddenly, the captain’s combadge chirped to life.
“Sir, we’ve got an incoming message,” reported Lieutenant Asher Aaronson, the operations chief serving as officer of the watch while the Juno‘s senior-most leaders convened in the captain’s ready room to discuss the new development with the Blackout. “Its point of origin is deep within Klingon territory, but it has a Starfleet signature and was relayed over the Gamma Hromi repeater.”
“Relay it to my ready room,” Captain Knight replied, his interest piqued.
A moment later, the astrometrics diagram on the display vanished, replaced by a sharp-looking Starfleet captain with steely eyes and an aggressive posture. Although the man was well known in the Klingon borderlands, none of the Juno‘s senior staff recognized him as they didn’t typically frequent these parts. They’d just been passing through, investigating an anomaly coreward of Ramatis, when the Blackout had come over them.
“This is Captain Dorian Vox of the Federation warship Diligent.”
Federation warship? Commander Castillo had never heard a Starfleet captain announce their ship like that. “Isn’t Diligent one of Fleet Admiral Reyes’ ships?” He was familiar with the work of the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity, homed on the Polaris, and he recalled the name Diligent from a recent study published by one of its research fellows.
“It is,” Commander Sirona nodded. She too was familiar with Polaris Squadron, albeit for a very different reason. She’d recently studied the battles of the Lost Fleet crisis, and Fleet Admiral Reyes’ squadron featured heavily in several.
“I come to you with a call to arms, not as a Starfleet officer, but as a warrior calling all warriors, regardless of allegiance or creed, brave enough to join the fight for the future of our galaxy.”
“A curious choice of words,” Commander Castillo observed.
“I don’t think he’s talking to us,” Captain Knight inferred. Not given their point of origin. He looked over at his executive officer. “Looks like Reyes may have had the same idea as you.”
“That presumes Fleet Admiral Reyes is still alive,” Commander Sirona pointed out. “Look at him. There’s a darkness in his eyes and a fight in his face, a man that’s seen death and is looking for vengeance. He might be all that’s left.”
“That you hear my voice is proof that the enemy can be beaten. We, my Starfleet and Klingon brothers alike, fought a valiant battle at K’t’inga, and now we have taken the fight to their domain, knocking down one of the Blackout’s boundaries. The Blackout is not magic. It is generated by outposts the Vaadwaur have positioned throughout the Underspace. We have attached the details on a side channel, but it’s all rather simple: destroy an outpost, restore local subspace. Have no doubt though. The battle will not be easy. The Vaadwaur know you will be coming. But come you must, for our ancestors and for our future.”
That answered the question they’d been unable to answer, namely why the boundaries of the Blackout had suddenly changed.
“This will reshape the parameters of the war,” Commander Sirona observed. To be able to see, to communicate, and to move again would allow them to actually organize and respond.
“It will indeed,” smiled Captain Knight, his mind alight as he considered their next move, one that would obviously take them into the Underspace to do battle with the enemy. How could they do anything else? It had been far too long sitting here.,
“We come with more, too, than just how to bring down the Blackout. We know how to strike at the heart of the enemy. We are gathering a grand armada in the K’t’inga system, and we will depart in three days’ time to inflict a mortal blow upon the enemy. If you are in range, whether you fly the flag of the Empire, the Federation, or something else altogether, I ask you now, for honor and for glory, for all the free peoples of our galaxy, rise to your duty and answer this call.”
As quickly as it began, the message cut off, the display flipping back to the astrometric model representing the local sector block.
They were not that far from K’t’inga, all three could see. Not not that the boundary between them and the fleet yard had collapsed, and not with the beast of a warp core they were packing on their Glenn class heavy cruiser. They could be there in time if they punched it.
“Do I even need to ask for opinions?” Captain Knight inquired. He knew what he wanted to do. A Starfleet captain had asked for their assistance, and he’d be damned if they didn’t respond.
“Captain Vox appears to be several steps ahead of us,” Commander Sirona replied without hesitation. “Since we have the means, I say we join him.”
Commander Castillo was a bit more measured, but he eventually came to the same conclusion. “There’s some merit to focusing on the outposts the captain mentioned, but we have the means to get to K’t’inga if we hustle. That’s more than can be said for most.” Not every Starfleet vessel could push Warp 9.995 like they could. “I say we leave the Blackout outposts to the others, and that we go join Captain Vox.”
“Then it’s decided,” Captain Knight nodded as they headed for the door.
Lieutenant Aaronson, manning the watch from the bridge’s center, looked over at the trio as they emerged from the captain’s ready room. “Anything interesting?” He made it his business to know everything about everything on their ship, and he was more than a bit curious about the message given that, save for the Pathfinder signal from Fourth Fleet Command, it had been the first signal they’d received from beyond the local sector in over a month.
“Interesting?” Captain Knight smiled as he stepped up beside Lieutenant Aarson. “That would be an understatement. Notify the crew to prepare for immediate departure.”
As the operations chief nodded energetically and moved back to his station, the redheaded flight controller, Lieutenant Dash McIntyre, looked over his shoulder. “Where we headed?”
“K’t’inga.”