"These demands are utterly outrageous!" Senator Jeremiah Dalrymple glowered at Tarik as he looked at the PADD containing his equipment requisition. "This sector is at peace! We have a treaty with the Mullurans. If we start arming up this sector in this manner, all we do is jeopardize the treaty!"
Tarik took a deep breath. Dalrymple had been getting on his nerves from the moment he arrived with the rest of the Senate fact-finding tour on station. "Senator, piracy in this sector is rampant. If you'll take a look at this report," he said, passing PADDS to Dalrymple and the rest of the delegation, "you'll see what we really face. It is well-documented by Starfleet Intelligence that the Mullurans are trafficking in slaves. The slave traffic is what's driving the piracy of the Nausicaans and others."
Dalrymple read over the new PADD--containing Captain Alcon's report of her interdiction mission--and frowned. "How come we're just now seeing this, Colonel?"
"This information is very recent. It's the first conclusive link that we have between the Mulluran slave economy and the piracy. Since the beginning of the year, the Mullurans have quadrupled their industrial capacity. Automation can only take them so far, and their military strength has tripled in that time. There's no way Francona can implement a universal draft and boost his production figures--even if the entire rest of the Mulluran population is pressed into labor--without outside assistance. This means slaves, gentlemen!"
"A most astute observation, Colonel," Senator Spock noted. "But the piracy operation appears to be run by the Nausicaans, who sell the slaves to the Mullurans. Their losses--thanks to the intervention efforts of this station--have been rather steep. What's keeping them in business?"
"Francona's probably paying top credit for the slaves," Captain Mallory suggested. "As long as he's paying they'll keep slaving."
"So there's our solution!" Dalrymple said excitedly. "Just let Francona bankrupt himself!"
The room fell silent. Even the normally ruthless Senator Talvor was shocked. Finally, Tarik broke the silence. "Do you mean to propose, Senator, that we allow the slave trade to continue? These are people you are talking about! And I for one do not care to play realpolitik at their expense. And while we're on the subject of people, keep in mind that Federation citizens are put at risk by the dangerously outdated equipment we are forced to use to contain this problem."
"Your objections are noted," Talvor said. "I would arm this sector ten times above what you've requested. However, after so many years of warfare the people of the Federation crave peace. How do we justify this expense to them?"
"If you want peace, you must be prepared to defend it," Mallory said resolutely. "This is still a rough neighborhood, and it's not enough to lock the door at night and hope everything passes. The cops are a long way off. We need a good dog, if you get my drift."
Tarik resisted the urge to start barking. "We have 20,000 Federation civilians on New Canada. Another 18,000 spread out between Morristown, New Argentina, and a half-dozen other colonies. And this isn't including the wildcat operations or freighter traffic. If we just say it's on them to take the chance with their own safety then we abandon centuries of Federation and Starfleet policy. Gentlemen, the decision is yours. I pray that whatever it is you can justify it to these people--and these people as well," he said, tapping the PADD containing Jayme's report.
At that moment a yeoman entered the room. "Excuse me, sirs, but we have emergency traffic from the USS Cuvier."
"What's going on?" Kitty asked.
"It looks like the Mullurans are attacking the Nausicaans full-force."
USS Cuvier
Somewhere between Nausicaan and Mulluran space
Commander Alfredo Esperanza saw the sensor readings as the science vessel ran silent, tracking the Mulluran invasion fleet.
"Thirty-five Type IIIA attack frigates, eighteen cruisers--what's this? Twelve Galaxy-class equivalents?" Esperanza said, shocked as read the figures.
"That's support for roughly 45,000 ground troops. This is definitely an invasion force," his first officer replied.
"Get this off on flash traffic to SB901 and Starfleet Command. How are the Nausicaans responding?"
"Not well, sir," a technician at the Ops station replied. "The Confederation appears to be collapsing in front of our eyes. Most of their big hulls are concentrated around Nausicaa Prime. Their colony worlds are having to fend for themselves. The Nausicaans have never been particularly organized, but this is bad even for them. Some of their units appear to be fighting each other!"
"Francona must have been plotting this for months. He can call this intervention in a civil war to restore order, and in the meantime take over the entire Nausicaan Confederation."
Kitty and Tarik made their way to the command deck. "What's going on?" Kitty demanded.
"The Nausicaan Confederation appears to be collapsing as a political entity," K'Tag replied. "We've got flash traffic from the Cuvier. The Mullurans have a sizeable force put together, but they really don't need to do much fighting. Only the Nausicaan homeworld is putting up any significant resistance. There are reports that the Nausicaan forces are fighting each other as much as they are the Mullurans."
"Dear God," Kitty said. "The bastard's finally done it. I want the station on yellow alert until we figure out which way the Mullurans are headed from here."
"Tarik to Senator Dalrymple--you may want to reconsider your strategy for dealing with Francona."
Nausicaan Fleet Marshal Balax stood on the bridge of his flagship, the Guldur. The regular Nausicaan forces, and several of its informal 'privateers', were falling back against the Nausicaan homeworld. The Mullurans had driven deep into Nausicaan territory and were sparing no quarter.
"Sire, we are at one-quarter strength. Most of our capital ships were lost at the defense of Arlad three hours ago. We don't even have enough reserves left to collect the escape pods," his flag captain responded.
"I told the Council we should never have trusted the Mullurans!" he shouted. "How soon until the Mullurans reach homeworld?"
"Our most recent intelligence indicates that the closest Mulluran elements are no less than nineteen hours away from--wait a minute--we have a Mulluran task force at the outskirts of the system! Five attack frigates, two cruisers, and one ship of the line!"
"Balax to all elements--move to engage! I repeat, move to engage!" he yelled over the comm.
The Guldur moved to engage the enemy...but much of the rest of the fleet didn't respond. "All elements! Report"
<This is Captain Krakor of the Dalfur. I and my task force hereby renounce our allegiance to your command. We will stay and defend homeworld at all costs!>
<This is Captain Durak of the Vendazo. The Confederation is corrupt and an enemy of the people! My elements intend to surrender to the Mulluran command authority at first opportunity!>
Krakor's ships set upon Durak's at once. Balax found half of his task force fighting the other half. "Sire, we're not going to survive a frontal attack on our own against the invaders. We must retreat and hope to regroup loyal elements somehow."
"What loyal elements?" Balax stormed. "There are no elements left loyal to anyone but themselves!"
It then dawned upon Balax. His society itself was falling apart at the first sign of a serious challenge in centuries. His people had grown decadent, too dependent upon the spoils of looting and pillaging their neighbors. Nausicaa wasn't defeated by the Mullurans. Nausicaa was defeated by the Nausicaans.
"We're leaving the system," Balax ordered. "Set a course for the Federation outpost."
"Sire?"
"Where else can we go? If we stay, the Mullurans will execute us after a show trial. If we run in any other direction, we're dead. The Ferengi will ransom us and then kill us after taking the money. The Romulans would kill us outright; the Klingons and Cardassians would make us beg for death! The worst we can expect from the Federation is a prison camp--and millions of our poor would beg for the luxury that is a Federation prison!"
The Guldur left the Nausicaan homeworld at high warp. Balax wondered if he'd ever return.
By 1800 hours, Generalissimo Francona stood on the balcony overlooking Conquest Square, where his people had gathered (mostly voluntarily) to hear his announcement.
"Brave people of Mullura! Your courage, your selfless sacrifice, and your superiority have brought a measure of peace and security to the Galaxy! The scourge that is the Nausicaan Confederation is now under the benevolent governance of the Mulluran Empire!"
The people cheered (mostly voluntarily). "Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron!" they chanted.
Francona raised his hands, and the cheering stopped (completely voluntarily). "These filthy pirates, these bloodthirsty bandits, will now learn the true meaning of Mulluran justice!" he shouted. That just a few months ago he was praising the Nausicaans as 'steadfast, erstwhile allies' was completely forgotten.
The cheering continued, and never died down completely even after the parade down Avenue of the Emperors, where Nausicaan prisoners were led to their executions.
In a small, secret room in Francona's private chambers normally reserved for a bodyguard, an Eriarti spy nodded in approval. His puppet was performing quite nicely...
Tarik and Kitty remained on the command deck most of the day, well into the evening. The news had failed to improve. The final line of defense had collapsed completely at the Nausicaan homeworld. The few units of the Nausicaan fleet that had survived were dispersing to all corners of the sector. What little comm traffic the station received from the Nausicaan Confederation had ceased.
"The Cuvier and the Iwo Jima are still in the area. What do we tell them?" Tarik asked.
"Hold out as best as they can until Starfleet makes a decision," Kitty replied, just as frustrated as Tarik was. "Which should be either any moment or six months from now."
"Flash traffic from Starfleet Command," a yeoman reported. "Eyes only for Captain Mallory and/or Colonel Tarik."
They both retreated to Kitty's office. The message scrolled on screen:
STARFLEET UNITS NOT TO ENGAGE MULLURAN FORCES IN AREA FORMERLY KNOWN AS NAUSICAAN CONFEDERATION PER ORDERS OF FEDERATION SENATE. OFFICIAL FEDERATION POSITION IS NEUTRAL; ANNEXATION OF NAUSICAAN SPACE BY MULLURANS RESOLVES PIRACY ISSUES AND WILL NOT BE CONTESTED. <S> RADM. GEOFFREY SINCHAK, STARFLEET POLITICAL AFFAIRS OFFICE
"So, should you throw up first or should I?" Kitty asked.
On the brighter side, the Senate delegation had left earlier that day, assuring the two of them that any and all equipment upgrades they requested would be approved without hesitation.
It was nearly midnight when the Guldur arrived in the New Canada system. Two dozen Nausicaan refugee ships had arrived since the collapse of the Confederation that afternoon; most of these had taken a station-keeping orbit about the station awaiting screening.
"Sire, the Federation station is within hailing range. It looks like several private craft have made it here ahead of us," Flag Captain Nalor reported.
"Open a channel," Balax said.
"They're already ahead of us. Weapons systems on the station are fully charged!"
"Power down our weapons and shields."
"Sire?"
"Must I repeat every order?"
The Nausicaan ship powered down.
<Attention Nausicaan vessel, this is Captain Kitara Mallory, in command of Starbase 901. Be advised that your presence in the New Canada system is unauthorized.>
"Captain Mallory, this is Fleet Marshal Balax, in command of the flagship Guldur. We request political asylum within the United Federation of Planets."