And so...it Begins

[STSF NDak 0]

Twenty Minutes to Zero Hour

 

It was a calm, placid day on T-Rogoran. Perched on the edge of Dominion territory, the world was once home to the T-Rogoran, but some 50 years ago, the populace had been utterly whipped out by the Founders death dealers, the Jem-Hadar.

 

Now the world was home to a new population—the Skreea. For years they had been dominated by the t-Rogorans, but after their…extinction by the Jem’Hadar, they took over the planet.

 

In the Capital City of t-Gora, children played in the streets while labors were beginning their long work days in the factories. All seemed in kilter, but high above in the skies of t-Rogoran, hell was preparing to unleash.

 

~~~

 

Completely undetected, the Rihan fleet led by Khevio tr’Shaelon had taken up position around the planet and began to surround it. The powerful D’Rredrix class strike cruiser wings moved into position, shrouded from view the hulking birds of death prepared to unleash their deadly payload on the unsuspecting populace.

 

Elsewhere in the massive fleet, the 6 Norexen wings moved into position to eliminate the ‘threat’ posed by the Orbital Defense Grid, as well as the few vessels in the system that were under the control of the Skreea.

 

The smaller D’Rrent destroyers took up flanking positions of the hulking D’Rredrix’s as well as the Norexens.

 

Finally the Nemitirr and the D'deridex wings moved into place. They carried the most soldiers, and as such were preparing to land massive waves of ground troops.

 

On the Oira of the Flagship, the silence was deafening. Khevio sat with his fingers steeped, a small trickle of sweat ran down his face. The waiting was almost over. “Status report?”

 

“Fleet reports ready,” his Tactical officer reported quickly. “All Wings await your orders.”

 

Khevio nodded. “Strike Wings 1-8, stand by to decloak on my command, they will begin this battle. Once they decloak, Attack wings 1-10 are to follow suite. Finally, Wings 10-17 will decloak. By then, this deed will be done, and we can begin to land ground troops.”

 

“Ie,” the Tactical officer said. “Riov tr’Kehjj reports all ground units on stand by, they await your commands as well.”

 

Khevio nodded. “Time till Zero Hour?”

 

“15 minutes till Zero Hour.”

 

“Send to Avalon, We are go.”

 

~~~

 

Some years later, Hajel Laterina, a Skreean survivor recalled that the next few moments of her life, made her feel as if the heavens themselves were raining down upon her.

 

“It was if the sky itself was burning!”

 

Indeed, in a period of 20 minutes, the Rihan Fleet pummeled the planet below with hundreds of torpedoes.

 

Within 25 minutes, they were able to begin landing troops on the planet. Nearly 15,000 Rihan Ground troops were transported down onto the surface.

From the mighty D'deridex class vessels, the Rihans launched many corvette troop transports which landed with little resistance. Within 2 hours, the planet was secure and in the hands of the Rihannsu Saehir Nneihka.

 

Infantry soldier, Mael tr’Kha recalled to his grand-children the feeling, the rush he got as the transports touched down on the terra and the D’Era rushed out into chaos. He could still remember, he told them nearly 30 years later, the sound of hundreds of torpedoes exploding.

 

Khevio tr’Shaelon later recounted in his memoirs that the battle had been as simple as taking candy from a baby. Not a single Rihan vessel was destroyed, and the loss of Rihan lives was minimal.

 

For the Skreea however, all indications were bad. The major population centers had been obliterated in the early stages. Millions were dead, and thousands were left injured and homeless.

 

The initial fighting had been almost non-existent. Unprepared for such an invasion, many of the military targets had been taken out with-in seconds of the initial attack. It wasn’t even until 35 minutes into the ground war that the Rihan Infantry encountered resistance.

 

Khevio himself lead the force that encountered the Skreean army. A rag-tag group of survivors had managed to muster together outside the ruined capitol city, where the Rihans were preparing to march into.

 

“The Skreean we’re beaten, they knew it. But they had lived in under the heal of brutal dictators once, and they refused to allow it again with out a fight.” Khevio wrote in his memoirs.

 

“700 of them marched against an Army of 3,000. We we’re armed with the finest equipment in the Galae Arsenal. Our troops had trained for this mission for months. They were untrained militia, armed with knives and spears. They had managed to procure a few phasers and disruptors, but most of the high-tech weapons had been lost in the early stages of the invasion.

 

Above the battlefield we controlled the skies, gliders dropped photonic charges on them as they advanced. Yet they continued to march towards their deaths. They did not run and hide, they did not fall on their knees and beg for mercy. Instead they marched proudly into the teeth of the D’Era. We slaughtered them unmercifully, leaving no survivors.

 

But that, I believe is how they would rather live. I saw much hope for these people, for they, like us, would rather die before bowing to a master.”

 

~~~

 

On the bridge of the USS Stonewall, Excelsior-class, Captain Martin Tall had just walked onto the bridge carrying a cup of coffee. The Stonewall was on week 8 of a 9 week patrol route in the Gamma Quadrant.

 

In just seven days, the crew would be headed back to the Alpha-Quadrant for so much deserved time off—that was until they received a startling communiqué.

 

“Captain,” the tactical officer said with a stark look on his face that looked as if all the blood had been drawn out by a vampire.

 

“Yes,” Tall said quirking a brow.

 

“Captain, we’ve received a general distress call from t-Rogoran.”

 

“What kind of distress call?” Tall said quickly becoming worried.

 

Rather than regurgitating it all, the officer put it on speakers.

 

“We…are…under…attack…” it was obvious that their communication network was failing. “Romulan Fleet…”

 

Worried and surprised Tall subconsciously let loose of the mug in his hand which shattered on the floor. “Is…” he struggled to regain his compsure. “Is that all?”

 

“Transmission ended at the source.”

 

“Dear god,” Tall said. “Red Alert, relay the message to Starbase Camelot. Request orders.”