They were the knights of her round table, or at least that’s what she wished they were. Where Arthur’s knights had gathered in fellowship and chivalry, hers had come for blood and glory, an unruly bunch that neither particularly liked each other, nor trusted her and the badge she wore. They were all she had though. She’d have to make it work. The galaxy depended on it.

Ringing the table, there were a few friendly faces, those of Captains Ria Alleyne, Dorian Vox and Anthony Knight, the commanders of the Kennedy, Diligent and Juno respectively, along with their executive officers and the veteran ambassador, Admiral Michael Drake.

Other than that, the rest of the folks at the table were wildcards. There was the aged General Kloss, an aged warrior from the old guard who’d held her at gunpoint over Vespara, and the bashful General Kloss, the belligerent from Toral’s inner circle who’d been responsible in part for the recent proliferation of illicit goods across the borderlands. Beyond those two, the rest were truly unknowns, a smattering of captains and brigadiers from ships that had either been at K’t’inga when the Vaadwaur came, or who had responded to Captain Vox when he’d put out his call to arms across the sector block.

Finally, against the far wall sat their specialists, Captain Titus Bishop, the squadron’s strategic operations chief, and Commodore Olivia Larsen, the managing director of the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity, along with Voragh, the Klingon astrophysicist from Mempa V who had attended in case the Klingons sought assurances from one of their own – not that he and his ilk curried particular favor with the militant wing.

“Thank you all for coming,” Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes offered as she took her seat at the head of the table, with Admiral Michael Drake at her right and Captain Vox on her left.

“Still not exactly sure why I’m here,” one of the Klingon brigadiers grumbled. He’d arrived late in the day yesterday, but so far, he’d heard mum. “I was promised a glorious battle to crush the souls of our enemy, but so far, all we’ve done is tend to the wounded and the dying.” He glanced over at General Kloss, the ambitious commander of the K’t’inga fleet yard. “Wounded and dying, I hear, as a result of my colleague’s failure.” They all had lain eyes on what was left of the fleet yard that was once the Empire’s greatest. What an embarrassment.

“You should watch your tongue, brigadier, before I cut it off,” General Kloss snarled as he kicked his chair back and rose to his feet, almost knocking the petite Captain Ria Alleyne off her own. “You’d have done no better!” His hand went to his d’k tahg.

Across the table, the brigadier responded in kind, rising to his feet.

Admiral Reyes sighed. She’d already seen this song and dance once before. These damn Klingons were all going to kill each other before they even laid eyes on the enemy.

It wasn’t the admiral who interceded though. “Children, the both of you!” General Kloss snapped, his voice booming as he rose to his feet. “While you bicker, the enemy laughs. There’s no honor to be found here, squabbling in a Starfleet conference room!” He crossed to the window, looking out at the stars for effect. “The honor that awaits us, it waits for us out there.” He turned back to the pair. “So sit down, shut up, and listen to what our Starfleet friends have to say.”

Caught off guard by the commanding voice of the elder statesman, the two young warriors begrudgingly returned to their seats.

“Apologies for my colleagues,” General Golroth offered with a smile as he returned to his chair. Once long ago, he’d been like them. Young. Proud. Foolish. Obsessed with demonstrating his honor by way of the blade, blind to the fact his unidimensional approach was exactly what stunted the Empire’s progress. “We are all simply hungry to strike back at the enemy, and I believe that’s what you’re here to tell us about, so do continue, admiral.”

“We have identified a Vaadwaur command and control center,” Admiral Reyes explained, ignoring the distraction and getting straight back to business. “A station in the furthest reaches of the galaxy – or more accurately, beyond it even – from whence the Vaadwdaur manage and coordinate much of their war effort. It is our intention, with you by our side, to take it out…”

But before she could explain any more, General Kloss interrupted again. “Another space rock, this one even further than the last. Pick something closer this time, if you want our support. Give us something that will benefit our people, something they will someday write songs about.” 

The Klingons around the table nodded in agreement. They all wanted to strike at the heart of the enemy, not to go on some quest to the ends of the galaxy to strike at some logistics hub.

The brigadier, the one who had just about come to blows with General Kloss, piled on his support: “There are worlds within striking distance under the yoke of the Vaadwaur. That’s where we should be looking, what we should be doing… liberating our people!”

Around the table, the captains and brigadiers clapped in support.

What a simple way to look at war, Admiral Reyes thought to herself. Instead of entertaining it though, she just glanced over at her strategic operations chief and nodded. 

The no-nonsense Captain Bishop rose from his chair and walked over to the wall-mounted display. “Wars are won and lost on logistics,” the captain stated in a matter-of-fact tone as he brought up a diagram of the space station and battle space surrounding their target, one derived from the intelligence collected by Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Commander Sena half way across the quadrant. “The Vaadwaur are winning in large part because the Blackout cripples our logistical capabilities, and because this station here enables theirs. As long as it continues to exist, none of our strikes will have lasting meaning, and any ground we take will be lost again.”

“I think you underestimate our prowess!” General Kloss shouted, his tone a mix of pride and anger. He didn’t need to take lectures from a Starfleet officer on how to fight a war.

“Does he? Does he really?!” General Golroth countered firmly, glancing out the window at what was left of the fleet yard. “Don’t be foolish, Kloss. I’ll give you credit for one thing. Whether it was you, or it was me, or it was any of us in charge here, the outcome the other day would have been the same. They outplayed us with their speed and their coordination, and we will not be able to simply muscle our way through this war. We must be smart.” He looked over at the captain. “And this is smart.”

Whether it was because Golroth had admitted he would have done no better in the defense of K’t’inga, or whether it was because he actually agreed with the point, for one reason or another, General Kloss ceded the point as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m still not convinced, but I’ll humor it for now.”

Captain Bishop jumped right back into his explanation before any further objections could be raised. “Built around a supermassive singularity that wandered off the galactic plane nearly six billion years ago, this station leverages the singularity’s immense power output and its position over the rest of the network to see and to communicate across the entire Underspace. Take it out, and the enemy will be as blind as we are.”

Now, there were some nods around the table, a few starting to see the value in the target.

But now there was an obvious question, and one of the Klingon captains asked it: “Your admiral said it, and now you’ve said it. This station is outside the galactic plane. If we suppose for a minute that we will accompany you, how exactly do you propose we reach it?”

“The same way the Vaadwaur do,” Commodore Larsen, the managing director of the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity chimed in from her seat. “The Underspace. While in conventional space, it would be nigh impossible, by way of a highly compressed corridor that we have already modeled out, we project a total travel time of four days and six hours.”

“I have seen their work,” Voragh offered from beside her. “It checks out.”

“And who are you?” asked one of the barrel-chested captains as his eyes studied the man sitting beside the Starfleet commodore. He saw no medals or insignia, nothing that indicated stature or position. What qualifications did he have to reassure them, the commanders of the great warships of the Klingon navy, of the validity of Starfleet’s plan?

“I am Voragh, senior astrophysicist at the Mempa V Science Institute.”

The introduction drew a deep-bellied laugh from several of the Klingon commanders. They were men, almost to the last, who subscribed to the modern definition of honor and glory, one borne of glory through combat and combat alone. What the hell could a labrat, even a Klingon labrat, tell them?

“He’s with me,” General Golroth said simply as he folded his arms across his chest. 

His words caused the laughter to stop at once. The old general, while not particularly popular among the young guard for his outstated and unpopular opinions, was still a legend for his great victories during the Dominion War, and that was enough to grab their attention.

“Please go on, commodore,” General Golroth encouraged. “I believe there’s more to this than just the journey?” He, as opposed to his colleagues, had already had an opportunity to review some of this with Voragh and the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity.

“Indeed there is,” Commodore Larsen nodded. “Due to the importance of this station to their war effort, the Vaadwaur are using a pair of interdimensional arrays to phase shift the station out of normal spacetime. As long as those arrays exist, the station is untouchable.”

“So destroy the arrays and then destroy the hub?” General Kloss shrugged. “Blow up three space rocks rather than one.” He was still less than enthused at the notion of this mission. He wanted something grander. “Sounds like no biggie.”

“If we do as you say, destroy the arrays, and then go to destroy the hub, it will be too late,” Captain Bishop warned. “The moment one of the arrays goes down, the game will be up. The Vaadwaur will know we’re coming, and they’ll rush a force to its defense of such magnitude that even the entire Klingon navy, in its most prime state, might not be able to defeat it.”

General Kloss scoffed at the preposterous idea.

“Scoff all you want,” Admiral Reyes jumped back in. “But this is how important the Vaadwaur consider this place to their war effort.”

“And how exactly do you know that?” General Kloss asked scrutinously. “Did they come to you in the middle of the night and whisper it into your ear or something?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Admiral Reyes locked eyes coldly with the bashful Klingon general. “While you all have been dicking around here, my assets have already been face-to-face with the enemy, taking prisoners and compelling from them that which we need to win.”

“The admiral speaks the truth,” General Golroth added before anyone could dissent. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Their intel is good. We will deal a mortal blow to the enemy.”

Only because of the admiral’s experience did her face not betray her. She’d given Golroth no such thing, none of the intel to assure him. All they’d covered to date had been the science. He had lied, plain and simple, but in doing so, he’d silenced the doubters before they could dissent.

And indeed, instead of questioning her, one of the Klingon commanders simply turned back to Captain Bishop with a far more practical question: “So what then is the plan, captain?”

“We have two teams pre-deploying as we speak,” Captain Bishop explained in reference to the Serenity and the Ingenuity. “They will hit both arrays simultaneously, phasing the station back into normal spacetime, and before the Vaadwaur have a chance to react, we will blitz them out of the Underspace.” Just like how the Vaadwaur had caught them with their pants down at K’t’inga.

“I welcome the opportunity to do to them what they did to us,” Captain Vox volunteered. He had been alongside many of these commanders, the ones that had been torched in the battle for the fleet yard, and he knew exactly how they must feel. “Revenge is a dish best served hot.”

Around the table, many of the Klingons commanders nodded in agreement, even those who had not been over K’t’inga, for they had seen the same story play out wherever it was that they’d been prior. Maybe there were a few things they could agree on with these Starfleet folks.

Admiral Reyes looked over at General Kloss, who still looked skeptical. “And have no doubt, General Kloss. You’ll still get your glorious space battle, face-to-face with the enemy. Our intel suggests the station is defended by six Astika class battlecruisers, one Gaul class dreadnought, and a small horde of smallcraft. More than enough to prove your muscle.”

“Suppose I agree…” General Kloss mused. “What then of the defense of our colonies? If we all go with you, they’ll be wide open for the Vaadwaur to attack.”

Now, suddenly, he was concerned with defense? 

“Be real, general,” Admiral Reyes said as she glanced back out the window. “Your colonies already are already wide open, with or without your presence.” They had all seen what had happened at K’t’inga, and while their numbers had swelled, she had no doubt that the Vaadwaur’s could swell further. “If the Vaadwaur return, they will come in such numbers that it won’t matter what you leave behind.”

Kloss still looked on the fence, and that was a problem. They needed the ships under his command.

“You can either cower here, waiting for the enemy to come to you,” Ambassador Drake jumped in, a shadow over his face of a man ready for war. “Or you can join us and take the fight to them and see to a victory worthy of song.”

It took a bit more back and forth, but eventually, General Kloss came around. He would join, and so would the others. 

The admiral would get her armada, or whatever this was. 

The remainder of the meeting was then far more productive as the Klingon and Starfleet senior officers dove into operational logistics and battlespace procedures. It was important these pieces right, they all knew, operating as an effective and  unified command, as even with surprise on their side and confidence in spades, the battle would not be easy. Not against the six hundred to eight hundred polaron emitters that would be trained on them when they arrived at their destination.

By the time all was at last resolved, nearly two hours had passed.

Admiral Reyes folded her hands in front of her at the head of the table as she closed the meeting. “Tomorrow, we depart at 0600 hours, and in a little over four days, we land the first strike on the way to taking back the galaxy.”

She watched them as they began to leave, returning to their ships to make final preparations.

“General Golroth, can you stay behind for a moment?”

Once they were alone, she looked over at him as he stood awkwardly by the door.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?” General Golroth asked.

“Stand behind my intel, even though I had shared none of it with you,” Admiral Reyes replied. “It certainly helped bring your colleagues around though, and for that, I am grateful.”

“Admiral, as much as you and I have stood opposite each other on the battlefield before, we are not all that different, you and I,” General Golroth replied with a deep sense of sincerity. “We are warriors frozen in time, even as the galaxy passes us by, but right now, that galaxy, it needs us, you and I.”