Camelot, Mine

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Corizon watched as the Morningstar slipped out of the shroud of Avalon and off towards the Onarris Expanse. If all went well, they would return with the passengers of the Aquaran and hopefully some information on the Hundred. And if all went to the worst, he’d find himself writing alot of lot letters—too many letters.

 

His claws flicked over the console, as he pushed that thought from his mind—there was too much at stake now for emotional grievances.

 

Reports were now coming in from all over the Dominion. Civil War seemed to be high on the horizon, and a red dawn seemed inevitable. Not twenty minutes after Morningstar left for Onarris, a message from the Dominion world of Kurnais VII had been intercepted by Camelot. Locals had armed themselves and were fighting against the Jem’Hadar, when another group of Jem’Hadar suddenly turned on the others and began fighting amongst themselves.

 

Corizon’s throat seemed to gulp deeply and endlessly, his worst fears being realized. The mighty Dominion was collapsing on itself, and the waves from that would spill out into every sector of the Quadrant.

 

And if the people were joining the Hundred’s Forces, who’s orders came directly from Founders—the Dominion would fall. Of that he was sure. And if the Hundred were to take over the Dominion, and have the full might of their armies…then the Alpha Quadrant would be covered in darkness and despair once more.

 

That could not happen. Not his watch. Not so long as he had breath and a beating heart in his chest. It also left them with only one option—aid the Dominion. A wise Dameon general once said, “My enemy is my enemy, until a more terrible force unites us.”

 

Corizon let that saying drift through his head as he looked at the force he had to work with—the force that would make up the Federation’s first and last line of defense against the horror of another war.

 

Twelve Starfleet vessels, three Mirandas, two New Orleans, three Excelsiors, a Niagara, Cheyenne, Steamrunner, Nebula and an Akira; and of course the Sovereign-class USS Yorktown, which Corizon had just recalled from a trade mission. To say nothing of the…two hundred or so vessels occupied by pointed-eared green bloods with browridges parked outside.

 

Also, the Klingons had a decent force, and the Dominion had sent a squadron of Battlecruisers to reinforce the system. Of course, the tactician in Corizon knew that while usually, combined with the more than ample defenses of an Alexandria-class starbase would usually be enough to defend the castle. However, if the Hundred were the ones responsible for the attacks on the cloning facilities, or had managed to secure a significant number of Jem’Hadar fleets, either of which being entirely possible—they might need all the help they could get.

 

Sighing, he flipped through commands, repositioning the auto-defense grid which had recently been placed through out the system. As ATAG advisor to ‘Fleet HQ for the Gamma Quadrant, he’d pleaded for a sector fleet to be assigned to Camelot…you know just in case something like this really did happen. But the Federation Council had been reluctant to grant such a request. It wasn’t politically correct—or something ‘diplomatic’ like that.

 

“Commander Sprint,” Corizon’s voice grumbled from the central command console. “Order all Federation vessels to assume tactical alertness status three. Have all civilians transferred off station to Avalon…”

 

Sprint looked up, taken a little off guard. “But sir,” he said respectfully. “Most of them just got here…”

 

“Well,” Corizon said gruffly. “They walked right into the middle of a Civil War. Begin transferring them to the planet…see to it personally. And get me the CENG in my office. And find…”

 

Another voice interrupted his commands, causing a slight growl to echo across the room. “Commander,” the even keeled, unmistakable voice of Admiral tr’Shaelon called forth. “A word with you.”

 

Corizon nodded to Khevio, forcing his displeasure into a slight, tight smile, and glanced at Sprint. “Of course, sir. I’ll get right on that.”

 

“Admiral,” Corizon said, flattening his ears and motioning towards the ramp that headed down towards the Station CO office. tr’Shaelon followed, his arms tucked neatly behind his uniform.

 

They entered the office, which Corizon still hadn’t gotten used to. It was larger than his, and it had fish. He hated fish. They’re stupid, foul smelling, and generally taste as foul as they smell. But he couldn’t bring himself to chuck them out the nearest airlock—someone would get them on their windshield.

 

He sat down behind the glass desk, motioning to one of the two chairs on the opposite side. He didn’t offer a drink or food, though the thought of breaking out a water bowl and slurping it in front of the Admiral amused him thoroughly.

 

“What can I do for you Admiral,” Corizon said, suppressing the amusement with his normal surly façade—the one where you weren’t sure if he was angry or just thought you might make a nice mid-afternoon snack.

 

Unphased, tr’Shaelon slowly folded his arms over his chest and thought for a moment, structuring his words very carefully. “That, Commander,” his voice flat and dry, “depends entirely on you.”

 

Corizon disliked the Romulan penchant for word games, “What do you want?”

 

Not entirely surprised by the response, Khevio allowed a small smile to creep across his face, he’d had just about enough of the smug arrogance of the Vulcans lately. “I want to know what you’re planning to do about a possible Hundred attack on Camelot.”

 

“You know something I don’t?”

 

Khevio smiled again, ever so slightly, and then acted slight impugned. “Of course I would share any information we had gained with you…I would expect you to do the same.”

 

Surly, “If you came here to play you’re little games of riddles…Lah…Leh…L something…”

 

“Lhi,” Khevio injected.

 

“Whatever. I am not here to play games. I am here to defend the Alpha Quadrant.”

 

“And you doubt I am?”

 

“No, though…” he stopped himself. “This is exactly what I mean.”

 

“Commander, has anyone ever told you, that you’re entirely too rigid?”

 

“Not in those words.”

 

Khevio’s brows lifted, a mental thought amusing him. “At any rate Commander, I’d appreciate to be briefed on all strategically important issues pertaining to the defense of this sector.”

 

“And you will be,” Corizon said flipping his ears back in annoyance. “But not by me…”

 

The beep of a communication from CNC interrupted him, and stalled the inevitable posturing response by tr’Shaelon. Composing himself, he held up a hand as Khevio opened his mouth and shut it. “Go ahead.”

 

Though he’d expected Sprint’s voice, it was instead Lt. Thomas Jones who replied. “Yes sir, there’s an inbound transport requesting clearance to dock.”

 

Corizon’s ears pinned back once more. “I though we ordered all civies to be sent to the planet.”

 

“They’re not Civ’s sir.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes sir, It’s a Colonel Kimura, Starfleet Marines. Apparently they have orders to assume security roles aboard the station.”

 

Corizon, not wanting to show his building frustration in front of the Romulan, or seem to be out of the loop, even though this was entirely new to him, smiled politely. “Of course, have the Colonel report to me as soon as he arrives.”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

Khevio hid his amusement. “Well you’re busy, I’ll leave you to your work.”

 

“Thanks…”

 

After what seemed like many hours, Corizon looked up as the chime on the door rang.

 

"Enter"

 

Colonel Kimura strode confidently into the office. "Good afternoon, Commander."

 

Not getting up, he motioned to the chair. "Sit."

 

Eyebrows lifting even as a small smile curved his lips, Kimura nodded. "Thank you, I shall," he said, taking the indicated seat.

 

"You'll excuse me if there isn't a red carpet for you," Corizon's voice hiding the small traces of a gutteral growl forming. "But no one told me they were sending a boatload of jarheads till a few minutes ago."

 

Refusing to be antagonized, Kimura leaned back in the chair casually. "We're here to

help out your goldshirts in the event of a boarding party."

 

"How thoughtfull," Corizon said. "Well, the quartermaster will get you setup with everything. I am sorry if I seem a bit...disorginized but this is my...second day on the job, and all I have had time to do is plan the defense of this station."

 

"Of course, Commander." The colonel shrugged, one-shouldered. "We're not here to make your life difficult. Actually, the idea is to make it simpler."

 

Corizon considered that, "Just remember that because your rank is colonel, does not mean you...in anyway outrank me. Clear?"

 

The colonel's smile grew wider. "Well, Fleet command might have something to say about that," he began, with distinct overtones of laughter in his voice, "but this is your show, Commander."

 

Unamused, Corizon continued. "At the moment, the station's XO is on assignment. That makes you my acting XO. See to it I have a duty roster for the security rotations by 1800."

 

By now grinning widely, Kimura raised a hand, touching two fingers to his temple in an informal version of the long-outdated salute. "Yes, sir," he said crisply.

 

"The Engineering teams are working on getting all weapon systems fully functionaly," Corizon looked at some notes, "And Lt. Commander Sprint is seeing to the Evacuation of Civilians to the planet below."

 

Sobering, the colonel nodded. "How long does he expect the evac proceedures to take?"

 

"Including Diplomatic Personell from the Romulans, Klingons and Dominion Governemnts? Three to five hours."

 

Corizon looked again to his notes, "There will be an Allied Strategy meeting at the Round Table tommorow at 0700 Station time, I'll expect you to be in attendence."

 

"Questions?”

 

“No -- Actually, yes."

 

Ears pinning back, slightly, "Yes?"

 

"Who's your chief goldshirt around here? I want a full briefing on your security procedures.

 

Corizon flitted through the files, mentally. "Lt. Robertson, Jake."

 

"Can you have him report to me? I'd appreciate it."

 

"You'll find him helping moving the Klingon Diplomats."

 

"Thank you." Colonel Kimura rose from his chair. "I won't take up any more of your time, then."

 

"Oh and Colonel," Corizon said standing.

 

"Yes, Commander?"

 

"Welcome to the Gamma Quadrant."

 

Kimura inclined his head graciously. "Thank you."