Command Log, Stardate 63177.2
True to my expectations, Starfleet has ordered us into the Mulluran Empire's space. We are to subdue and conquer the Mulluran Empire and bring Generalissimo Francona to justice.
How we're expected to do this is another matter entirely. I have ten Federation vessels, five G'kra vessels, and no more than twenty Ferengi vessels to cover 7.2 million cubic light-years and eighty populated worlds. Between those ships, I have approximately 20,000 combat-ready personnel to defeat the entire Mulluran military-industrial complex. The situation is ambitious -- and as foolhardy -- as a flea crawling up an elephant's leg with rape on its mind.
To wit, we are forced to practice asymmetrical warfare: in more familiar terms, guerilla tactics. While building the La'kon Legion, contacts were made with a number of Mulluran dissident groups. How much help they can offer us is debatable, but I'll take all the help I can get at this point.
"Please understand, General, that we are a pacifist organization. We cannot and will not engage in armed conflict of any kind, even in self-defense," Dulko Hotari, leader of the Mulluran Students For Peace, informed Tarik. Dulko looked much like student activists on many worlds: scruffy, unkempt, and proud of it.
"I am aware of your organization's mandate, Mr. Hotari. What are you able to offer us?"
"Civil disobedience. Protest movements to keep the Order Police and the Crims occupied."
"Crims?" Tarik asked.
"The Criminal Police -- that's our nickname for them. They handle non-political crimes. Ostensibly the usual types of things like murder, robbery, sex crimes and so forth, but most of the time they seem to like to enforce the Approved Social Norms," Hotari said with disgust. "We think they report to the Order Police but we don't know for sure."
Somebody's got an axe to grind, but I'll take the help where I can get it. "Some of your people will be injured or killed. Our numbers limit our ability to help you. Are you willing to accept this risk?"
"Do our lives mean that much to you, General?"
"You're damned right they do. The whole objective is to resolve this with as little loss of life on either side as possible. The Federation is dedicated to the preservation of life. Where we do fight, we do our damnedest to keep the casualties to a minimum and avoid civilian casualties if at all possible. Believe it, mister!"
Hotari looked genuinely surprised. "I see... my organization can initiate nonviolent demonstrations in the capital city of every province in the Empire in a week's time. The security forces will be so busy dealing with us they won't be able to deal with you!"
"Just the industrial provinces. Vassarovia, Demetor, and the homeworld in particular. We can't cover every province and we don't want you risking your necks on third-tier agrarian worlds we won't be able to occupy."
"But surely you don't want to tip off the regime to your movements! Even I can see that much!"
"I don't believe in cannon fodder, Mr. Hotari. Besides, I'm certain the Empire's General Staff already knows where we're headed. It's the most obvious move and the only one that makes sense."
Hotari nodded. "Okay, I'll pass the word."
"Very good," Tarik replied. "I'll be in touch via the usual channels in three days' time. If you'll be so good as to show Prelate Vrem in, I think we're done. Feel free to stop by the galley on your way out if you'd like. I know what student budgets are like on any world," he smiled.
"Thank you, General! My ration card was reduced again this quarter." Hotari did look somewhat gaunt.
"How often have they been reducing ration cards?"
"Every quarter, more if you're a member of the opposition. Some of the population has been on half-rations for nearly a year now."
The system is already showing strain, Tarik thought. For all Francona's study of Earth history, he's apparently forgotten the French Revolution. "Hang in there. In thirty days everyone's going to be eating a lot better."
The next meeting was with Prelate Vrem, a leader of the Mulluran Red Sect, a suppressed religious movement. Vrem committed the Red Sect priesthood and monastic orders to their own acts of civil disobedience and motivating their followers to oppose the regime. Anything to oppose the Purple Sect infidel Francona was acceptable in Vrem's eyes! The leaders of four labor unions promised more direct action against the regime. By the end of the day, Tarik had the beginnings of a massive popular uprising against the Mulluran regime.
For all my talk to Hotari about not jeopardizing civilians, it looks like civilians are going to do the majority of the fighting, Tarik thought ruefully. But it's just as well; it's their own house they need to clean.
Tarik left the conference room and reported to the Patton's Combat Information Center. "Sir, we have a report from Starfleet Command," a yeoman reported, handing Tarik a PADD.
"Excellent! This may be the best news we've had all week," Tarik exclaimed. "There are ten more ships headed here from Federation space. Let's see... another MacArthur-class transport with an entire Marine division, two repair tenders... and the USS Odysseus, Admiral Richard Wallace in command!"
"Sir, incoming transmission."
"Patch it through."
<Bonjour, mon amis!> a familiar Cajun drawl reported. <Zhees eez ze Swarva Expeditionary Force, Commander Deveraux reporteeng!>
"Paul, a pleasure as always! What brings you here?"
<Ze Swarvan Assembly 'eard about zhis leetle fracas you've got going 'ere an' decided to jump in. Zhere are thirty armed merchantmen -- or should I say, merchantwomen -- ready for service 'ere!>
"And what's your involvement here?"
<Madame Hecate an' Ah 'ave a little... understanding, if you will...>
"Say no more, Paul," Tarik chuckled. Report aboard the Patton -- with Madame Hecate if she is available -- at 1800. We'll have dinner and discuss the overall tactical situation."
<But of course, old friend. Deveraux out!>
The day -- for once, since the start of the conflict -- had gone rather well for Tarik. The size of the Combined Fleet had more than doubled, and with Jon Lataro due in the sector in the next few days, a competent flag officer would be taking over fleet operations leaving Tarik free to handle the ground war and intelligence. At least that's one headache off my mind... and I wish I could get rid of this damned headache! he thought. "Valandropram, 250 milligram dosage," Tarik requested from his replicator.
[Warning. Recommended maximum dosage of valandropram for adult Romulans is 150 milligrams.]
"250 milligrams."
The tablet materialized. Tarik knew the replicator would send a report to Sickbay and soon a doctor would be calling upon him. Valandropram, though over-the-counter, did have abuse potential. But he wanted to have his mind clear during the working dinner with Paul and Hecate. He swallowed the tablet and chased it with a cup of the coffee substitute Eugene Loomis had introduced him to. His stomach had been bothering him more lately and Tarik was willing to try anything to calm it down. Stress, most likely. Hopefully we can turn the flank on this whole thing now.
The door chimed. "Enter," Tarik said.
Paul Deveraux and Hecate entered. "Eet seems like eet's been forever!" Paul said as he grabbed Tarik in a Gallic embrace.
"Indeed it has! And you've no idea how good it is to see you -- and your fleet," Tarik replied.
"It's time the Mullurans got back what they've been giving," the Amazon standing next to Paul added. "Our fleet stands at your service."
"So, how exactly did you arrange this affair?" Tarik asked, certain that his association with Hecate was something quite a bit more than diplomatic or strategic.
The leader of the planet which had until recently been enslaving hapless male spacefarers, Paul most notably among them, blushed visibly. "Zhat eez yet another long story," Paul said, smiling. "So what are we eating -- Tarik! Are you okay?"
Tarik had stumbled, then recovered. "I'm fine, Paul, just a little tired. Food will help."
"Ah've seen you weeth 'alf your blood gone an' 'alf your ribs broken. You've never been zhat clumsy!"
"I'll report to Sickbay tomorrow," Tarik replied, sensing Paul's concern. Besides, I'll have to after that valandropram stunt anyway. "Now, let's get down to business!"
back to TOC