War had come again to the Federation. Commander Lewis flashed back to the torture he’d endured at the hands of the Jem’Hadar, to the countless battles they’d fought, to the lifeless colleagues he’d stepped over to finish the fight. He still remembered giving the order to leave the dead where they fell, to focus on the task at hand, to bolster the line as it threatened to fail. His eyes grew dark as he came back to the present, to the reports from the front lines as planets once again fell under the yoke of the Dominion.

“How can they reject reality?” he exclaimed angrily as he chucked a PADD across the room, furious at the fact the Federation and Starfleet Command were insisting it was just a mild border crisis with the Breen. This was a full on resurgence of a wretched alliance that had nearly destroyed the quadrant.

Fleet Admiral Reyes didn’t flinch as the PADD hit a vase and shattered it. She understood. “It is as unfathomable to me as it is to you.” Like Lewis, Reyes had her own history with the Dominion. As a young Lieutenant, she had seen the worst of their aggression, and in response, she had enlisted with the darkest elements of Starfleet Intelligence for the remainder of the war. They did things that would have repulsed any civilized member of society. She had sold her soul to ensure they would never be a threat again, and yet here they were.

“I assume we will not sit on the sidelines?”

“Absolutely not,” she assured him. “I have been in contact with Starbase Bravo. Ramar is ignoring Starfleet Command and responding with the full force of the Fourth Fleet. I assured them that nebulas can wait, and we are at their disposal for anything to put an end to this.” Whether direct combat assignments, dirty special operations, or turning ASTRA’s brilliant minds towards unscrupulous ends, she had no qualms of anything they were asked to do – except sit idle, as Starfleet Command had suggested. At least Fleet Admiral Ramar was having none of that.

For Commander Lewis’ part, he hoped to slit the throats of a few Jem’Hadar soldiers before this was all done, to watch them bleed out on the deck in retribution for all the suffering they had wrought. He cared not that the Lost Fleet was a fleet out of time. If anything, it made it sweeter, because it was almost like going back in time to inflict retribution on those who still meant to inflict suffering. He also cared not that the Jem’Hadar and Vorta were pawns of the Founders. You always had a choice. He knew that better than most.

The admiral could sense the dark thoughts of her longtime friend. “Jake, promise me you’re in this for the right reasons? That you’re not going to let vengeance cloud your judgment?”

“Allison, I won’t lie to you,” Lewis conceded darkly. “I will take pleasure in felling our aged foes, to honor all those in the Deneb Sector who have fallen under their yoke, to avenge all those that fell alongside us all those decades ago. But it will not cloud my judgment. You will have my counsel on the battlefield, and when it comes time to shoot, I will hit my mark.”

That was all Reyes needed to hear. Sometimes, she wondered why she’d dragged the old operator back into the field to spend most of his time sitting bored while they explored far off mysteries of the galaxy. But now she knew. In times like these, they needed people like him, even if the rest of the time, the ever-wary Chief Intelligence Officer did little more than stalk around making the scientists, research and analysts of ASTRA feel uncomfortable.

Commander Lewis approached the window to look out beyond. The starscape looked so peaceful, but out there somewhere, millions were suffering the violence of the Dominion.

“What about the crew, Allison? Many of them have never seen war.”

“And now they will,” she replied with a tinge of regret as she stepped up next to him at the window. “Neither you, nor I, had seen true war before the Dominion came upon us. But we rose to the challenge. And they will too.”

“Your optimism…” Lewis began to say before a chime at the door interrupted him.

“Enter,” Reyes said as she turned to face the new arrivals. Captain Devreux stepped through first, followed by Commander Henderson and Lieutenant Hall. The former two wore worried looks, the latter one of conviction, and all three appeared a bit shocked at the news. None so much as noticed the broken vase in the corner of the Ready Room.

“I assume you each have had a chance to review the preliminary intelligence out of the Deneb sector?”

“Yes. It’s beyond concerning,” commented Devreux. “I gather we’re turning around and heading that way?” He knew Reyes too well to expect anything less from her. He wasn’t looking forward to it though. As a young officer who’d ventured to the stars for exploration, not conquest, he’d gone so far as to take a Medical Assistant role on an Oberth-class survey ship to stay out of the Dominion War. Years later, he came out of his shell, and he’d seen his fair share of skirmishes in the Delta Quadrant and during his time on the rim with Admiral Reyes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t lament what was to come.

“As is our duty,” the admiral responded with conviction. “The Fourth Fleet will rise to the call, as we always have.”

“What’s up with that crap on the Federation News Network about this being no more than a Breen border skirmish?” Lieutenant Hall asked bluntly, not one to beat around the bush. She had no personal experience with the Dominion, just a child fighting her own demons on Turkana IV at that time, but she knew how to read an intelligence report. She also studied her foes for a living, and she understood exactly what the Dominion represented. How anyone could think otherwise was beyond her.

“It’s the same old Federation,” Commander Lewis spat with disdain. “Idealism and ignorance over the hard truth of reality. We do our jobs so they can continue to live in that daydream of theirs.”

“What cognitive dissonance…” Hall commented, shaking her head as her voice trailed off.

“Indeed,” agreed the admiral. “And that BS has rubbed off on Starfleet too. HQ has reverted to their old ways, minimizing and deflecting. This will be a Fourth Fleet only operation.”

Devreux raised his brow, and Commander Henderson stroked his chin in thought. Reyes debated sharing the second message that had accompanied Fleet Admiral Ramar’s, the one from Vice Admiral Beckett that read ‘Trust only the Fourth Fleet’, but she held off on sharing that for now. She wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it yet.

Turning to address the ship’s Chief Medical Officer, Fleet Admiral Reyes then got straight to business: “Doctor Henderson, once things get going, I fear it will get mighty busy for you and your staff. So let’s make what preparations we can ahead of time, cancel all upcoming non-essential procedures, get non-critical patients moved out, and stock the crash carts and storage bays for the wounds of war.”

“We will be ready,” Commander Henderson assured her dutifully with a determined nod. While an exobiologist and specialist in interspecies medicine by trade, the Dominion War had turned him and all his colleagues into battlefield medics. He dreaded what was coming, but he and his staff would do their part.

“Dr. Hall, we have a crew of young sailors, an average age of 26 if you exclude ASTRA’s research teams,” continued the admiral as she turned to the Chief Counselor to address an issue that could undermine their success if not managed. “Many of them weren’t even alive when the Dominion ravaged our quadrant, and they were only kids for First Contact Day. They know death only through stories and old people, and they’ve never seen war. The closest they’ve ever come is a holodeck training program with safeties turned on. Give some thought on how you and your counseling staff can prepare them for what lies ahead, and to address acute crises as they present.”

“Absolutely,” replied Lieutenant Hall, although inwardly she had no idea how to execute on that assignment. She had known conflict, death, and abuse from before she could walk. What could she say to a bunch of children whose greatest struggles up until this point had been homesickness, workplace stress, and their romantic relationships?

“And Gérard,” Reyes concluded as she turned to her closest friend of the last seven years, feeling a tinge of regret she’d put him in this place. It was not what the lifelong explorer had signed up for. “It’s time to prepare the ship for war.”