Redemption, Part 3

[Wes Roberts 0]

Starfleet Command Headquarters

San Francisco, Sol III, Sector 001

2386 November 14

1715 hrs UCT 0815 Hours Local

 

Wes was ushered into the CINC's office; General Maden and the CINC sitting there. Coffee and pastries sat on the sideboard. “Mr. Marx, thank you for coming. Or do you prefer 'Mr Roberts'?” The CINC asked, moving behind his desk, motioning for both Maden and Wes to sit.

Pulling his cloak in tight, Wes took the offered chair. “'Mr Roberts' is fine, Admiral. Its the name I've been living under for the past 10 or more years.” After serving the flag officers, steward offered Wes a cup of coffee, which he graciously took. The steward quietly quietly slipped out of the CINC's office.

“Mr. Roberts,” Maden began, “we have an offer for you. No strings attached, you can refuse at any time. However, your pardon and the expunging of your records are not part of the deal. The President has granted that to you, for services rendered as an unofficial Federation privateer. We'd also like to give your 'Wesley Roberts' alias a background.”

“So why, after all these years, am I being pardoned? I'll admit to living under numerous aliases makes for an interesting life, but it does get old after awhile.”

“Your planet, Caledonia IV, petitioned for Federation membership while you were running contraband out of Baham,” the CINC said. “Several groups, particularly of the survivors that you rescued and interred there, spoke quite highly of your administrative skills and concern for those under your care. So much so, JAG reopened their investigation and, when compiled with the data retrieved from the Revenge's memory banks, indicated that you attacked only when circumstances dictated, and helped Starfleet's anti-piracy patrols. I hear several Orion cartels have placed multi-billion credit bounties for your head. Preferably on a silver platter.

“General Maden, was instrumental in these investigations as well, and lead to the pardons to your crewmembers. Your wife was also quite active in petitioning the former slave communities that have cropped up on several Federation systems. Several of which were organized by those you and your crew captured and released.” There was a quiet click as side door opened. Wes perked up as he picked up the exotic perfume of his wife; a scent he hadn't smelled since leaving her behind on Caledonia to meet with Ikari's fleet at Caer Bannog.

“Mr Roberts,” General Maden took up, “we'd like to offer you a civilian position within Starfleet's Special Operations Command, Special Operations Executive branch...”

“Why me? Why not someone from within Starfleet already?”

“Because, Mr. Roberts, no one I could name for General Maden would meet his criteria. Very few Starfleet officers have any sort of initiative to getting the job done, no matter how many feathers it may ruffle,” the CINC said. “What SOE requires is independent thought and action, a return, if you will, to the days of Jon Archer and Jim Kirk where actions spoke louder than reports. And because you prowled the unexplored sections of the Beta Quadrant, we've been able to use the navigational data from the Revenge to send follow-on expeditions.

“That's why we want you, Mr. Roberts.”

“I see,” Wes replied. Maighdin had placed a placating hand on her husband's shoulder. “And if I accept your offer, what do I get?”

General Maden continued. “Your assignment will be in the vicinity of Aegis, if you wish to use her as a home port, by all means, continue to do so. Wild Stallion will remain under your command. As will her...” A viewscreen activated, showing what looked like the offspring of the Arcadia-E and the Manticore—a Sovereign-class variation of the venerable Nebula-class, complete with dorsal mounted weapons pod. “She's the new Revenge, a Kelvin-class heavy cruiser. Not listed in the Starfleet ship's registry, we took possession of her a few months ago right out of the Portsmouth orbital yard, and the crew has been working her up to shakedown.

“She's fast, powerful, and should be able to take on anything the Breen or Dominion can throw at you.”

“'Should', General? Your confidence in her abilities are overwhelming me,” Wes interjected, with a distinct hint of sarcasm.

“None of her class have entered combat with either the Breen or Dominion, coming too late for the Dominion War. However, simulations and wargame results are indicative of a high rate of success against heavy vessels from both navies.”

Wes thought for a moment, before looking at the new Revenge and flag officers in the office. “I would like some time to think this over. As well as get to know my wife again.”

The CINC nodded. “”Of course. As of now, your identity as 'Wesley Roberts' officially exists within Federation and allied databanks. All assets that were under your alias, and subsequently frozen after Caer Bannog are released. Enjoy your time, Mr Roberts. And let us know if you'll take the offer.”

Wes stood, letting his cloak flow down. “Of course,” he replied, leaving the office with Maighdin.

As the door slid closed, the CINC looked at Maden. “Will he take the offer?”

“He will. Roberts has an honorable streak in him three parsecs wide. And if he doesn't his wife will convince him its the right thing to do.”

“At least with his birth identity being 'dead', that's one less Marx with a Praetorian death mark on his head.”

“Indeed. I'll have to tell you the story behind that sometime, Admiral.” Maden replied, a smirk evident on his face.