Earth, Starbase 001 - 28th century
"Admiral's Personal Log, Stardate... Oh, who cares.
"What a mess! The Federation is turning itself into a joke!
"Okay, I should take it from the beginning, I guess. I wake up this morning and Starfleet Command has a message waiting for me. Before my morning workout, before my breakfast, before even a hot cup of coffee, I read that Starfleet, in its infinite wisdom, has decided to close Utopia Planitia Shipyards.
"I couldn't believe it when I read those words. Utopia Planitia Shipyards have stood for centuries as the pillar of Starfleet's ship construction. Every famous ship I can think of was built there and they produce more vessels in one year than the entire Klingon Empire.
"But, beyond all that, I guess what I'm really upset about is that they never even asked me. I am supposed to be the Fleet Commander. The guy in charge of every single Starfleet vessel currently in service. So, it only seems natural that they would consult with me before deciding to close down the place where the majority of those vessels are built. I tried fighting it, but I think Starfleet Command was expecting that. I couldn't get a single officer above Lieutenant to take my calls today. It was very obvious they were avoiding me.
"So, I plan to fight this. I have no idea how, but I will fight it. Don't get me wrong. Part of me understands why they are doing this. The Federation controls so little space, it is unnecessary to keep building so many ships. There just isn't enough space to fly them in! But at the same time, this sends a very clear signal to the Alliance. It says we are giving up. Without Utopia Planitia, there is no way we could ever keep up building ships in a war with the Alliance. Even if the Bajorans and the Klingons were on our side, we would be no match with Utopia Planitia shut down. Even with it operating, the odds would be against us. I have to wonder if Starfleet has considered what kind of message this will send to the Alliance. And for that matter, is this a sign they are actually considering surrendering, or "joining the Alliance," so to say.
"On a completely unrelated note, I've received word the U.S.S. Domtar, a transport and scout/patrol vessel, has gone missing somewhere near what used to be the Romulan Neutral Zone. The last communication with them occurred when they were only about half a parsec away from Alliance space, so I can only assume the worst. Once the new captain of the station, Captain David Major, arrives tomorrow, I'm going to send him and his new crew out on the Pollux to try to locate them. Two of the officers that were supposed to be transferring to this starbase, Lieutenant Commander K'Rak and Lieutenant T'Kila, were both aboard the Domtar. I can only hope we will find them, along with everybody else on that ship, alive. But, like I said, I can only assume the worst."
---
"I'm sorry sir. There's nothing I can do."
Garrison stared at his viewscreen in his office. He had been trying to talk to one of his fellow Admirals from Command all day, and not one had bothered to get in touch. It was so obvious they were avoiding him. They just didn't want to deal with his objections about closing down the shipyards. He regarded the young Lieutenant on his screen.
"Lieutenant. You tell your boss that I called, again. Tell him I expect, no, tell him I demand to speak with him. Garrison out." He punched the viewscreen, switching it to the UFP logo.
"Operations Command to Garrison. Captain Major has arrived on the station," the voice of an officer in charge of the Operations Command Center, known as the OC, informed him.
"Acknowledged. Have him report to the OC. I'll be there, shortly." With that, he stood up and stretched his aching muscles. Spending the entire day talking to Lieutenants and other officers at Starfleet Command had made him very tense, and he was very stiff. Straightening his uniform, he exited his office into a corridor. Unlike the Captain, who actually commanded the OC, Garrison's office wasn't directly off it, but down a corridor in a suite of executive offices. Among others, Fleet Captain Drayson Hardgrove and Ambassador Michael Larkin had offices here.
He walked down the corridor, reached a large set of glass doors at the end. They opened as he neared and he stepped out into the OC. It was a large room, through which basically all of the operations of Starbase 001 were controlled. It had a very high ceiling with several secondary stations on the upper level, around the perimeter of the room. All in all, it was a very impressively designed room. It gave the feeling that a great many things were going on at once.
Garrison stood off to one side, awaiting the arrival of Captain Major. Glancing at a station, he saw there were a large number of Starfleet vessels, all docking, or in a holding pattern to dock as soon as the way was cleared. Probably all of the new officers arriving, he thought to himself.
---
Ensign Othoniel Ephraim Rasin sat in a room, a spare crew quarters aboard the U.S.S. Concord, waiting for his arrival to Starbase 001. He knew that he would not have much time to himself, but after getting all of his affairs in order, he was tired. He closed his eyes unsure of how he felt moving away, out of what he knew and into something new. A starbase. What he was sure of, though, was the yearning to prove himself to his new colleagues. He wanted to-- No. He had to prove that he could do a sufficient job. He needed their respect.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up his bag from the floor, that he insisted on bringing personally, and headed towards the hatch.
---
Lieutenant Commander Tanik, the new Chief of Engineering, and Romulan, walked through the door to the OC. He noticed several sideways glances from officers manning their stations. They were apparently trying to be subtle. You'd think I'd be used to it after eight years. I guess it's one of those things I may never adapt to here.
He shrugged it off and continued to the man in the middle of the room, obviously in command. He noted his rank pips from a distance and was somewhat puzzled. A little too prompt, you dolt! He froze for a second, wondering how to handle the situation. Oh, well. Better go to him anyway, I guess. Heck, he might be impressed.
"Admiral, Lieutenant Commander Tanik, reporting for duty, sir."
The Admiral looked up from the display he was watching, somewhat startled by the sudden intrusion. "Ah, Commander. I'm Admiral Tom Garrison. You should really report to Captain Major. I am not really part of the command structure. Unfortunately, he hasn't checked in yet. You're quite early."
Tanik looked around for a second, wondering how to proceed. Just as I feared. "We Romulans like to be punctual, sir."
Garrison looked at him contemplatively. "So do I, Commander." The Admiral eased up and chuckled, mildly. "I'll have a yeoman show you to your quarters. When the Captain comes aboard, I'll call you. Dismissed," he said with a half grin.
"Yes, sir." Tanik walked out the door.
Garrison stood there, looking at the space where Tanik was earlier. He didn't know what to make of him. Sighing, he shook his head and looked back at the screen.
---
Later, Captain David Major tapped the control by the door to the Admiral's office.
"Enter," came the gruff voice from within. As the doors slid open with their distinctive whir, the Admiral looked up from his desk and smiled. "Welcome, David! How was your trip?" The two men shook hands vigorously before David sat down.
"Rather boring, sir," Major chuckled. "I spent the entire five hours reviewing teraquad upon teraquad of status reports and crew profiles. Talk about some deep reading. I never knew 001 was the only Starfleet starbase to have blue carpets." He grinned.
"Ah, reviewing only the crucial information, I see." Garrison laughed. "I'll be sure to mention your taste in my report to Starfleet Command." Suddenly the admiral's smile turned to a frown. "Or what's left of it."
"How is the status of the Federation? I've only heard scattered accounts of what's going on, but It almost sounds like the Council is thinking of actually joining the Alliance?"
"I wish I could say it wasn't true," Tom sighed. "But with every passing day, that comes closer to a reality then ever before. I've been trying non-stop for the past two weeks to get through to Command on Earth, but it seems as though they're personally making a point of avoiding me. I'll be frank with you, David. I'm worried about what it's going to come to. The Alliance is growing in power every day. Soon, we won't even be able to hold what sectors we have now." Garrison stood up, and stared out the view port. "I'm trying David. I really am. But this is getting out of my league."
David's mind scrambled for something to say. "Sir, I'm sure you're doing everything you can, as will I and the rest of the crew. We'll fight this to the end."
"I hope so, David. I hope so." After a pause for a moment or two, Tom turned back around and faced David. "And if that wasn't depressing enough, I'm afraid that I have some more bad news for you."
He handed David a PADD from his desk, containing the specs for the U.S.S. Domtar
"About a week ago, Starfleet lost contact with the U.S.S. Domtar, a scout and transport ship with low-warp capabilities, minimal weapons and defense. It was traveling awfully close to Alliance space, out by what used to be the Romulan Neutral Zone."
"Sir, we lost contact a week ago?"
"I know what you're going to say, David. We should have sent a ship out there long before letting an entire week go by. And, I agree. But, well, there just aren't enough ships out there. Starfleet hasn't really been building any new ones and we keep losing them to decommissioning and to these skirmishes. I'm the Fleet Commander of a pretty pathetic fleet at the moment..."
His voice trailed off. His thoughts returning to the fight he was going to have to undertake regarding Utopia Planitia.
Shaking those thoughts off, he returned to the conversation. "Anyway, two of your new officers were on board. K'Rak and T'Kila. They were traveling aboard the Domtar from their last postings. As soon as your new crew arrives, I want you to take the Pollux out. See if you can find them."
David nodded. "Aye, sir." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Always."
"I'll go out there. Somebody has to. But after a week? I don't know. I just don't expect to find anything."
"Neither do I, David. Neither do I. But we still have to try." David nodded. The two men sat in silence for a moment. "Go meet your crew. We'll talk more later."
Tom watched David walk out the door. He sighed and turned his chair so that he was facing out the window. Staring out at all the stars, he was trying hard not to become too pessimistic about the situation.
---
Soon, I'll be closer to Earth than I've been in six months.
"So what's it like out there, Ambassador?" the Ensign at the helm of the shuttle asked. Not being in the mood for small talk, Larkin acted like he didn't hear him. "Sir?"
"Not like it use to be, Ensign. That's for sure. I can remember being told stories by my father of how the Federation used to encompass hundreds of worlds, complimented by a vast fleet. Now we've been reduced to a third-class power. Hell, power, that would imply some influence in the Quadrant." He decided to save the rest of his opinions for someone who would appreciate them. He didn't want to damage this young man's perception of the Federation either, well, anymore than it probably already was. As he looked at him, he couldn't help but wonder if he really understood what was going on outside Federation borders. Freighters being attacked, crew's taken hostage, vessels disappearing, all because of the Alliance.
As he considered his own words, he thought about the closing of Utopia Planitia. Those shipyards have built some of the Federation's finest starships. He couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at the end. "I just hope the Admiral can save it," he whispered to himself.
Just then, the comm panel beeped. "Starbase 001 to Shuttlecraft 9. You're cleared for docking. Approach upper docking bay."
"Acknowledged." Larkin looked out the view port at the glistening blue waters of his home. It'd never looked so beautiful. As his eyes traced upward, he caught his first sight of the starbase. One of the last remaining links to a long lost era and humanity's last hope against an intractable enemy.
The shuttle snaked around the base. The pilot was about to turn in to the docking port when the Ambassador almost shouted, "Take another pass." He was in awe. "Do you know what this represents, Ensign?" He paused for a moment.
The young Ensign looked at him, out of the corner of his eye. "Yes, sir," he said proudly. "It's our last hope. If this station should ever fall, we would have lost everything."
"Don't ever forget that," Larkin said. They finally pulled into the bay and docked. Larkin stood and grabbed his luggage. "Thanks for the ride, Ensign. You've got a long trip back. You better be going."
---
Larkin walked through the docking port and into the huge starbase, looking for a turbolift. He went through a few corridors and passed a window. Looking out, he saw an unusual number of starships waiting to dock.
He started walking without looking and ran into a Lieutenant. "I'm sorry. Hey, could you tell me where I might find a turbolift?" he asked the officer.
"Just up that hall, sir, on the left."
As the doors opened, he saw a Romulan officer waiting on the lift. "Commander." He had read the personnel files the Admiral sent him, but his name escaped him.
"Tanik. And, you are?"
"Ambassador Michael Larkin. Good to meet you."
"Likewise."
Larkin then walked towards Admiral Garrison's office and ran into Captain Major. He looked in a hurry, so Larkin just gave the Captain a nod. Then he reached the Admiral's office and pressed the door chime. "Come in."
Larkin stepped in and shook hands with Garrison. "Admiral, good to meet you in person." Larkin didn't like to waste time so he thought it would be best to get started. "I hear we have a problem with Utopia Planitia?"
---
As Ensign Rasin was outside of Captain Major's office, he checked to make sure he looked perfect. I probably should fix my hair. I do not want to look too fresh from the Academy. Ensign Rasin touched the pad just outside of the door and was called in by the Captain.
"Ensign Rasin, reporting for duty, sir," stated the young officer.
"At ease. How are you, Ensign?"
"I am doing alright, Captain. Thank you for asking."
"The Domtar is missing," the Captain blurted, quickly. "I want you to be apprised of the situation and to keep your eyes open. Your job as Counselor entails more than just giving the crew advice. It includes giving me any knowledge that you possess that could help."
"Yes, sir," Ensign Rasin said, seriously.
Well that was interesting, Rasin thought after he was dismissed. He walked to his quarters where he began mining mission data on the disappearance of the Domtar.
---
Lieutenant Rune Sith stepped off a turbolift and onto what was known as The Deck, a multi-level open space for commerce and dining. This was going to be his workplace. Full of commotion and trades people, he passed alien after officer after alien. He'd never seen so many people in one area.
"Wow." Sith gaped at the enormity of The Deck. He had already visited his quarters. Sitting on his shoulder appeared to be a strange device of some sort.
The Deck was four high levels with a wide vertical space in its middle. Bridges crossed from one side to the other and lifts carried people up and down. He wanted to check out the Bolian bar.
"One thakilan. I heard those were great here," Sith ordered when he got to the bar. He was out of uniform, but after this drink he planned to get dressed. He was scheduled to meet his superior officers, soon. The device on his shoulder *clicked!* in excitement.
"So, what do you think, Zeta?" Sith asked it. Then it popped up on his shoulder with eight metallic legs. It was a robotic spider.
*Click, click. Wow.* Zeta mimicked Sith's earlier remark.
"Utopia Planitia's gone," a drunken officer cried out to someone sitting near him. "Me and my friend had an in to submit schematics for a new class, but now we won't even have a chance." He smashed his drink on the floor and got up, grabbing the guy near him. "You fools. There's no future for us now!"
"Let go of me!" the other guy struggled, only half as drunk.
Sith ignored his drink and walked over. "What is going on here? Let's keep things in order, please."
The officer, Carley, threw the other guy back and then grabbed Sith's shirt collar in anger. "Don't tell me what to do, buddy."
Sith knocked Carley's right arm to the side and quickly grabbed Carley's left, spinning him around. He held Carley's left arm to Carley's back so that he couldn't move.
"Alright, alright. I just need to get some rest." Sith let the downtrodden Carley go and watched as the man stumbled out of the bar.
*Chirp, click-- some rest.* Zeta mimicked; his voice like a parrot.
"Hard times," Sith observed, feeling sorry for him.
The human then made his way around The Deck to the offices section. There were two offices. One for his superior, Lieutenant Commander K'Rak, and one for himself. He looked through the glass doors finding K'Rak not there. "That's weird. He told me last week to meet him here, today."
