The Two Oh Three

[Cptn Corizon 0]

The promenade level buzzed lightly. The morning rush on shops had ended and the keepers retooled and restocked for the afternoon run as the second wave of transports that followed along the Escaline-Gajin trade route stopped to refuel or change loads. After the last several weeks of upheaval, there finally seemed to be a sense of normality returning to the starbase.

 

Ah-Windu Corizon leaned against the railing of the upper mezzanine level of Starbase 203. After nearly two months away, he'd been pleasantly surprised when he received orders for him to return to the starbase he'd made his home for the last two years, giving him a delighted respite from the oppressive heat of Vulcan. In deed it seemed everything was beginning to calm down, and though a tiny voice in his head told him that only meant more of need to be on alert, he welcomed the chance to once again have a routine that didn't include daily briefings with the Admiralty on tactical contingency plans.

 

Running his hands along the railing, he felt an odd kinship to the starbase. 203 had been built as a front-line 'deep-space' type station when it entered service. It had projected the Federation's sphere of influence further out and protected her against the then still new threat of the Cardassian Union and the Tzenkethi Confederation, but as Starfleet and the Federation had grown and aged 203 gradually became a mid-range base that served as stopping point along a trade route for civilians, and the occasional lay-over base for a patrol vessel. Then the Dominion War came and 203 was once again on the front-lines, serving as crucial launch point for the 6th Fleet. When the war mercifully came to an end, the scars of war littered 203—twice the Dominion made attempts to capture or destroy the Regula-class station. Starfleet had considered demoing the station and rebuilding one closer to a major port, but for whatever reasons, they'd decided not too. And after twenty years of relative peace for the station, she once again found herself nearer the front-lines than anyone would have liked.

 

Corizon considered how much he shared with the station he now mastered. He exhaled. The threat to the quite way of life for places like 203 posed by the aliens who'd attacked Earth—the Soltons—was disquieting, even for a seasoned commander like himself. It wasn't like fighting the Dominion. That was a real war, one where you knew who the enemy was and in general where he was going to strike next. This on the other hand, was something different. With the ability to use FT-FTL drives, the Soltons could drop in, strike a target, and escape to the safety of their homespace before Starfleet could even react. As the images of the Battle of Earth flickered through his mind, his heart skipped a beat when his communicator beeped.

 

“Admiral,” the rough voice of the chief operations officer of the station came. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

 

A relieved sigh escaped his lips before he hit his badge. “No worries, Jaworii. What's up?”

 

“I just received an encoded message from Starfleet,” Lt. Commander Hajk Jaworri said.

 

Corizon's ears perked and his body tensed again before releasing. “Oh?”

 

“Apparently Starfleet is dispatching a contingency of Marines to supplement our defenses. They'll be arriving aboard the Majestic in a couple of hours.”

 

The Dameon nodded, as if the man on the other end of the communication could see him. He'd known for a few days that this could be coming, but hadn't been sure enough to say anything to any of his senior officers. “How big of a detachment?”

 

“Our own regiment,” Jaworii said with a heavy sigh. “The 29th Marines.”

 

Corizon returned the sigh. Precisely what they needed an entire ground force of Marines lounging about on a mid-range base of twenty-six decks. “Well, I guess it's a good thing then that we've been understaffed for the last year. Start looking for a place to house them in one general area... we'll have to find some office space for them too I suppose... and a Marine Center for their operations.”

 

“Already working on it, sir.”

 

“Good, who's commanding the 29th?”

 

“Colonel Mike D'Atori.”

 

A smile formed on Corizon's face. “D'Atori?”

 

“Yes, sir. That's what the file Command sent along says. You know him?”

 

Chuckling, Corizon smiled even wider. “Old friend of mine. We came up through the Academy together. Good man, Mike is.”

 

“Well thats a silver lining, sir.”

 

“How long till they arrive?"

 

"Four hours sir. I've got them lined up to dock after the convoy to Cetrus VII leaves.”

 

“Very good, we'll have them unload into Cargo Bay 3 till we can get everything set up to start moving them into quarters and the like. I am sure the Captain of the Majestic will be eager to rid himself of a boat load of jarheads.”

 

Jaworii laughed into the comm before catching himself. “Right,” he said. “Well Admiral, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do if we're going to be ready for the Majestic.”

 

“Of course. I'll be in touch.”

 

--

 

The cargo bay buzzed with activity as supplies and marines unloaded from the Intrepid-class Majestic and onto 203. Organized chaos was the best phrase anyone could think of to describe such a mess of a deployment.

 

“At least they're doing all the heavy lifting themselves,” Jaworii said looking over to the silver-haired Dameon with a slight smile.

 

“Yes,” Corizon responded. “I assume that the Captain of the Majestic also had a supply request?”

 

“Yes, he did. Nothing to major, but we're seeing to it now. As soon as the Marines are unloaded, our people will begin loading the stuff onto the Majestic.”

 

“Good.”

 

"If I may ask, sir...you said you went to the Academy with the CO of the 29th? But he's a Marine... aren't you class of '56?"

 

"'57," Corizon said with a sidelong glance. "And yes, we did graduate together. He was in Starfleet Security at the time. He worked his way up through the ranks and even had his own command during the Dominion War. He retired for a bit after the war. When they began the Marine study program, he was one of the people tapped to work on it. Re-uped as a Colonel instead of a Captain. Been the same rank ever since."

 

Jaworii nodded, but noticed Corizon starting to walk towards the throng of jarheads. “Where are you going, sir?”

 

“To have a look at the boys up close.”

 

–

 

Most of the Marines didn't even notice the lanky, aging war-horse milling through them, making mental notes on them as he passed. Those who did gave brief nods of respect but continued working. It wasn't until Corizon snapped off a salute that anything seemed out of the ordinary.

 

“Aren't I the one supposed to be doing that to you now, Checkers?”

 

Corizon grinned fangily and chuckled. “Old habits, die hard Romeo.”

 

The two men grinned at each other before hugging. For anyone who knew either of them separately, the entire exchange seemed more than just odd – it seemed downright strange. Here they were, two hard-edged officers who were known more for their burly, growling demeanor than their soft-touches hugging each other?

 

They released embraces and smiled, taking a brief moment to size one another up. Corizon noted that the short, well-built D'Atori remained in impeccable shape, still as fit as he'd been at the academy when the two had been on the wrestling squad together. The only noticeable change was the specs of gray hair that had infiltrated his buzz cut and the crows feet that had formed at the edges of his eyes. War had worn on them both, but D'Atori had seemed to weathered it's effects better than Corizon, they both thought.

 

“It's been a while,” D'Atori said with a smile. “What... before the Romulan War?”

 

“Yes,” Corizon said. “Thatok VI, if I recall.”

 

They both smiled as a pleasant memory bubbled to the surface. D'Atori grinned to the marine next to him and pointed to the Dameon. “That was the only time the two of us were together and at the same rank. Otherwise, this brass-barnacle here's always had to salute me.”

 

“Yes, well... he was always the smarter one. He never let them get him behind a real desk.”

 

“Pfft,” D'Atori said with a laugh. “The very idea of 'General D'Atori' is enough to make me consider retirement.”

 

“I used to say the same thing.”

 

The exchanged smirks and let a moment pass. Though neither would say it openly, both were glad to see face from the old days – before the wars. “Well, Colonel D'Atori, it looks like your men have everything under control. I'm going to go back up to the control tower. We're still getting everything situated for your men, but we should have some place for them all to stay by the end of the day. Your quarters are almost done, too.”

 

“Thank you, Ah-Windu.”

 

“Why don't you come by my place for dinner? We have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

“That we do. That we do.”