Ultimatum
Posted on Mon Jul 6th, 2015 @ 12:54pm by Vice Admiral Edwin Gilhouly & Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gunning & General M'Klora
Mission:
First Strike
Location: Starbase 310
Timeline: Stardate 50975.2
Vice Admiral Edwin Gilhouly strode with the same air of controlled authority that traveled with him everywhere he went. Despite the situation he found himself in, despite the interstellar political juggernaught bearing down on him, despite the seemingly inescapable nightmare just around the corner, he maintained that quiet, analytical mindset.
His calm manner was almost legendary in Starfleet circles. It had been said of Edwin Gilhouly many times during his long career that he had blood colder than a Vulcan's and that if you ever saw him agitated you knew there was something very wrong. But even now as the Federation slipped closer to war, Edwin Gilhouly remained a pillar of serenity.
"What's happened?" he asked his adjutant as he strode down the corridor toward the starbase's situation room.
The adjutant, Commander Goradda, shook his bald blue head in consternation. "I'm not certain, Admiral," he said. "I just heard something about an ultimatum."
Gilhouly nodded as they reached the door to the situation room and he entered his authorisation code. He had been expecting something like this ever since the decision was made to mine the entrance to the Bajoran Wormhole. He just hoped that hot-headed Captain Sisko hadn't made things worse than they already were.
The inside of the situation room as a buzz of activity, with officers and enlisted personnel running here, there and everywhere. Gilhouly looked past all of this to the large centre table and the formidable-looking Klingon barking orders into a comm. His deputy was already here.
"Either you have those troop deployments signed off in the next three hours or I'll replace all of your entrails with G'agh and eat it out of your stomach- do you understand?!" The other end of the comm was decidedly quiet as the other end considered its response. "Yes sir." Came the quick response.
General M'Klora had spent most of his morning being harangued by the idiots in the High Command about his troop deployments along the border. For all they were in for a penny with their allies, they were in for a pound along their own borders. It infuriated him. Without adequate troops and ships coming in from their own space, the meager expeditionary force would be crushed within a couple of weeks.
Gilhouly calmly approached the table and took up a position opposite his second-in-command, utterly unfazed by the Klingon's aggression. He hadn't know M'Klora very long, but he long ago discovered that the best way to deal with an angry Klingon was to let them bloviate a while; it usually didn't take them long to settle down. Of course, this advice was only useful when the Klingon was an ally.
"What a charming threat," Gilhouly said with a thoughtful tilt of his head. "I'd wager you'll get those deployments signed off a lot quicker than three hours, General."
"That is the hope, Admiral." M'Klora replied through a sneer. He had little taste for working with the Federation and the serene calm of the Starfleet Admiral unsettled him slightly. How could this man be preparing for war? Where was his fury? His rage? At the very least, where was his sense of righteous indignation?!
The human affected a wry smile in response before turning to one of the other officers now gathering at the table. "Commodore zh'Doss, report?" he asked the Andorian whose stern visage made her look like she could match M'Klora for fury, but was straining to bottle it up inside.
"We've received word from Deep Space Nine," she began. "A Dominion envoy arrived at the station this morning and issued an ultimatum. Either remove the mines ... or the Dominion will take Deep Space Nine by force and remove them themselves."
There was a low, guttural growl coming from somewhere around the table and a number of Starfleet eyes fell on General M'Klora. "They can try."
Gilhouly breathed deeply and considered the situation. The ultimatum meant that everything he had feared, everything he had hoped wouldn't come to pass, was about to happen. The Dominion was coming. The only question that remained was when. "Depending on the position of their fleet," he said in that quiet tone that nevertheless compelled everybody to listen, "the Dominion could reach Deep Space Nine by tomorrow. Maybe the day after. But they'll only get a few hours warning." He paused and then looked at zh'Doss. "How many of our ships have assembled?"
The always efficient Andorian knew the answer straight away. "Forty-nine starships are here right now," she replied. "With four more en route. Trafalgar is due any moment now and the Midas is an hour away. That just leaves the Baltimore and the Manoora, both about five hours out."
The admiral looked back at M'Klora. "What about your forces, General?"
"Most are being held behind our lines." M'Klora spat. "I am petitioning the High Command to bring them to your disposal as soon as possible."
Gilhouly folded his arms across his chest and gazed down at the strategic display on the tabletop. The thought of the Dominion seizing Deep Space Nine wasn't his focus. He knew that was going to happen. His job wasn't to stop that from happening. No, he had a different job. Deep Space Nine would be lost, so his job was to make sure the Dominion paid dearly for their prize. The target had been selected weeks ago. The objectives were set. The only thing left to consider was a few extra units and the timing.
"The question is, when do we move on Torros? For us to hit the shipyards at the same time as the Dominion is attacking Deep Space Nine, we need to be on our way before the Dominion fleet crosses the border." He looked around the table at the many frowning faces. "Thoughts?"
"We must depart with as many forces as we can muster now." M'Klora offered with typical haste. He was never one to strategise a fight, preferring instead to dive in head first.
The admiral looked placidly at the general, a bare hint of amusement on his otherwise tranquil face. "We're not at war yet, General," he said. "And we have to be careful to make sure that it's the Dominion who opens hostilities, not us."
"Ensuring that the fleet is in position is not an act of war." M'Klora was animated now, his huge shovel hands flying everywhere as he spoke. "If we ensure that our strike forces are close enough to the Dominion threat zones then we can catch them by surprise. Not only by surprise!" He smiled an unsettling smile. "Completely off guard too."
"Moving our fleet closer to Cardassian space before we're ready to attack will expose us for far too long and negate any advantage," Gilhouly replied, his measured almost boring tone in complete contrast to the Klingon's. "We should assume, however, that the Dominion will attack as soon as possible; if they want to be in control of Deep Space Nine before the minefield is operational they won't have the luxury of waiting. We can assume the Dominion Fleet will reach Deep Space Nine late tomorrow. If that is the case, we will have to leave here no sooner than seven hours from now, in order for our attack on Torros to begin while Deep Space Nine is under attack."
The Klingon grumbled in agreement. There was no faulting the logic of the Admiral. "You're right, of course." He replied reluctantly.
Gilhouly's usually passive face cracked into a crooked, sly smile at General's concession. "Besides," he said with a glance over at Commodore zh'Doss, "that will give us time for the Baltimore and the Manoora to arrive. Those ships are critical to us achieving our secondary objective."
Vice Admiral Edwin Gilhouly (NPC)
Task Force Commander
Played by Whitlam
General M'Klora (NPC)
Task Force Second-in-Command
Played by Gunning
