“Priority one communique from Fourth Fleet Command. Massive enemy fleet converging on Farpoint. Requesting assistance of all available vessels. Shall we adjust course?”

“Negative, maintain present course for Earth,” Admiral Reyes ordered firmly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. If Farpoint fell, the victories they had paid for in blood would mean nothing. The Fourth Fleet would fall, the Deneb Sector would fall, and the fate of the Federation would hang in the balance. Her thoughts drifted to her colleagues and friends, to all the brave officers who would rise to the call. She hoped with all her heart they would achieve victory, but she would not be there with them.

“Excuse me, ma’am? It says all ships within range,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran asked, partly shocked and partly appalled that they weren’t turning for Farpoint. Just hours earlier, Admiral Reyes had ordered them into the Ciatar Nebula against all odds to help a single ship, but now, when the entire Fourth Fleet needed them most, she was backing down? He didn’t understand. “We can be there in time. If these numbers are correct, they’re going to need every available ship to stand a chance.”

“And if they fail, then what?” Reyes countered aggressively. She wanted more than anyone to engage the Dominion, and to keep engaging the Dominion, until they were no more, or until she was no more, but she also knew the importance of what they needed to do. “Have you thought about what happens if the Fourth Fleet falls?”

“But we can help them…”

Reyes didn’t bother pointing out that the USS Serenity had no weapons, limited shields, and reduced maneuverability courtesy of the damage it had sustained coming to the aid of the USS Mariner. Problems like that wouldn’t stop her from using the ship as a battering ram. She had no problem going out in a blaze of glory, but what stopped her from her natural impulse was higher purpose.  “Commander, think about it for a moment,” she replied, looking at the young first officer. “If the Fourth Fleet falls, the Federation will fall shortly thereafter.”

“That seems like all the more reason for us to turn for Farpoint,” Eidran insisted. This just didn’t make any sense. “Respectfully Admiral, what the hell is going on? Why the urgency to head for Earth?” His tone was sharp and desperate, and the bridge grew eerily quiet. 

Admiral Reyes looked around. Every single bridge officer was looking at her. They wanted a response, because just like their first officer, they too didn’t understand. She took a breath and then spit it out. “Because if the Deneb Sector falls,” she offered grimly. “Our only hope is to kick some sense into those idle idiots sitting in San Francisco.” 

Everyone just kept staring. Did she just refer to their leadership as idle idiots? 

As their Commanding Officer, Admiral Reyes knew she could just order it, but she needed them to believe it. “Look, you may not like it, here is our reality… Weapons inoperable, shields at minimal, thrusters with limited maneuverability, we are in no shape to fight the Dominion,” she explained. “But we can still fight for our brothers and sisters by making sure their sacrifices are not in vain. We carry with us the voices of Deneb, voices that can inspire the Federation to act, because if the Fourth Fleet falls and they do not act, the Federation will fall.”

Her words were biting, but not as biting as the meaning they conveyed. The bridge was still silent, but now it was shock rather than doubt, the gravity of their situation now in full display.

“You have your orders.”

There were no more objections. Slowly, the bridge crew began to get back to work, albeit shaken by the Admiral’s words. Satisfied they would follow her orders and stick to the plan, Reyes crossed the bridge briskly, stepping into her Ready Room where Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall awaited.

“Congratulations Admiral,” Dr. Hall laughed from her seat on the couch as the door to the Ready Room slid shut. “You’ve successfully turned sailors into soldiers, and now they’re struggling with the idea that, at this critical moment, we’re turning tail.”

“But it is the correct strategic decision,” Reyes insisted as she sat down in a chair opposite Dr. Hall and Commander Lewis. “We’re not turning tail.”

“We three know that,” Dr. Hall agreed. “But those officers out there, they don’t understand. Sure, they’ve watched the FNN and wondered why there’s no coverage of the war, and sure, they’ve almost certainly noticed the absence of non Fourth Fleet ships in our tactical updates, but they’ve been brainwashed into believing the admirals of Starfleet Command know best.”

Commander Lewis snorted at that idea. Those idiots in their ivory tower had no idea what went on out here on the frontier. Most days, their greatest struggle was figuring out how they could fit in a full eighteen holes at Pebble Beach.

“It’s good for order and discipline,” Dr. Hall reminded the Commander. She didn’t disagree with it, even if she too had little faith in their leadership, the same leadership that constantly tried to tie her hands from what needed to be done. “It works against us here though. Most of the crew cannot imagine what we know to be true. What’s the plan when we get to Earth, Admiral?”

“We will start by visiting Moustiers-Sainte-Marie,” Reyes explained, drawing curious stares from her colleagues. Neither so much as knew the name of that sleepy little commune in the south of France. Admiral Reyes had not, up until this point, shared with anyone what she’d been cooking up. “Since we left Nasera, Lieutenant Balan has been collecting video testimonials from those who suffered under the Dominion occupation. I reached out to an old friend of mine on Earth, retired Rear Admiral Aria Edir, to find a way to get those stories directly to the people, to bypass Starfleet Command altogether and air them on the Federation News Network.”

“And how has that gone?” Commander Lewis asked skeptically. To him, the complete lack of acknowledgement regarding what was happening in the Deneb Sector implied active censorship, and he wondered what success a lone retired flag officer could achieve.

“She disappeared four days ago.”

As cynical as Commander Lewis was, even hadn’t expected that response. “Well, that is interesting…” he mused. “Definitely add credence to our suspicions that Starfleet’s silence is not simple ignorance.”

“We’re going to find Aria Edir,” Reyes nodded. “And then we’re going to confront this head on with Starfleet Command.”

“What makes you think they’ll even entertain you?”

“These occasionally come with some benefits,” Reyes smiled as she touched the pips on her collar. “They will see me.”

Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall looked skeptical.

“And if they won’t, then we are going to tear the walls of HQ down until we find them,” Reyes said with a cold anger in her eyes. “Lord knows we have bled enough for those blowhards already.” Millions, if not billions, of colonists had suffered at the hands of the Lost Fleet, and thousands of good officers had laid down their lives in the desperate struggle. It was well past time that Starfleet Command stepped up.

“What if the Fourth Fleet pulls it off at Farpoint?” asked Commander Lewis. He’d reviewed the tactical reports while Admiral Reyes made her appeal to the bridge crew. There was a chance that Ramar, Beckett and Dahlgren would find victory, even against that massive armada of Dominion and Breen ships. The Fourth Fleet had pulled off miracles before.

“Then our crew gets a front row seat to the Frontier Day celebrations,” laughed Reyes before turning serious again. “But we are still going to get to the bottom of this. Something is amok, and we are not leaving Earth until we find out what.”