Echoes of Coventry

by Richard C. White

  “I’m not a doctor, sir, but I’m certain if Starfleet sent out those orders, they must have a very good reason for doing so. We certainly appreciate your concern, though.”

  They chatted with the doctor for a bit longer, letting him talk about the ship and its crew, and some of the battles they’d been in. Dr. MacDonald was a likeable person and they felt bad about having to make up a story about what they’d been doing and the artifact they’d found. He excused himself after a short while to make his rounds, promising to check back with them once in a while.

  After they were certain he was gone, Jamie had everyone search the isolation ward for transmitters. After a thorough search, they were unable to find anything, so they had to assume they could speak freely. Jamie called them together and whispered, “I don’t know why we’re going to Jupiter Station and not back to Starbase 375. Something is very strange here. Everyone hang loose, keep your thoughts to yourself and enjoy the ride.”

  Three days after their transfer, they arrived at Jupiter Station and were beamed into a security center. They were allowed to clean up and change clothes before being escorted to a large conference room. They meandered through the ornate room toward the large podium in the front and Bart noticed everyone was keeping their thoughts to themselves. He could tell by the way everyone moved they were all as nervous as he was.

  They’d been there for a few minutes when Jamie broke the silence. “I wonder what’s keeping them. I wonder if Commander Mwakwere will be here to debrief us?”

  “I don’t know, but I want to know how badly we beat that Jem’Hadar fleet. I’ll wager we didn’t let a single one get away,” Priya said, a small sharklike grin crossing her face.

  Just then, a whistle rang out in the room, and the door at the far end slid open. “Attention on deck!” a security officer called out as two officers and a master chief petty officer came into the room. Bart looked in amazement as he realized Admiral Marta Batanides, the commander of Starfleet Intelligence herself was the first one in the door. As the officers took their seats, the master chief motioned for the four to sit down also. Bart and the others quickly complied.

  Admiral Batanides looked them over, her elfin features making it appear she was ready to break into a smile at any moment. Finally she began, “Let me start by saying the Federation owes the four of you an incredible debt of gratitude. Your efforts were invaluable in helping to turn the tide against the threat from the Dominion.”

  She paused for a second, pouring herself a glass of water from the silver pitcher sitting on the table. “The Vorta have been very generous in letting the Breen ambassador use their circuit to transmit information back to his government. He’s proven to be quite a talented observer and has gone to great lengths to inform his countrymen about the size, composition and strengths of the Dominion forces he’s observed. He’s also made heavy use of that encryption system you identified.” She took another sip from her glass and continued. “When the Breen entered the war, I have to admit the ferocity of their attacks caught us off guard. However, we were able to maneuver our forces to meet their counterattacks and as the Dominion withdrew even farther into Cardassian space, the ambassador was quick to keep his government informed with the latest news from the front.”

  “Begging the admiral’s pardon,” Jamie said, as she paused. “When the Breen entered the war? Wasn’t Starfleet able to stop the Jem’Hadar fleet from attacking Starbase 11? There must have been time to put together a flotilla to stop them.”

  “Yes, Mr. Cruz, when the Breen entered the war. Once we started getting the field reports from the Breen ambassador, it was determined that the value of the information was too great to lose. There’s no question we could have intercepted the Jem’Hadar forces. However, there was no way we could have done so without having exposed Mungin and the fact that we were listening in on the ambassador’s private network.”

  “But, the people on Starbase 11…?” Bart’s soft voice broke the ugly silence.

  “We gave them as much warning as we could,” she admitted, letting her emotions show through for a second, running a hand through her still dark brunette hair before she reimposed her professional demeanor. “Once the Jem’Hadar fleet attacked, we sent out a fleet we had pre-positioned and drove them off before they could complete the attack. Unfortunately, the Breen then announced their new alliance with the Dominion by attacking Earth.”

  Bart swallowed. He no longer had any family on Earth—or much of anywhere, truth be known—but he had friends there.

  “You seem to be using the word ‘unfortunately’ an awful lot here, Admiral,” Jamie said, a hostile tone creeping into his voice.

  “Mr. Cruz, you more than anyone else here should understand the need to protect the source,” she replied sharply, then caught herself. “Yes, the attack on Earth was unexpected. We had no indication of that on any of the messages we intercepted. And the loss of life at Starbase 11 and in the reserve fleet was higher than anticipated. However, there is no question the information we’ve been getting directly from the Breen ambassador ever since has shortened this war, saving the lives of hundreds of millions.”

  Bart and the others exchanged looks as the admiral softened her expression and continued. “In the twentieth century, there was a rumor that during their second World War, a Terran leader was faced with a terrible decision. His intelligence people had informed him his enemy was going to bomb one of his cities in the middle of the night. However, the enemy was communicating with what they believed was an unbreakable encryption device.”

  She let that sink in for a second and then continued. “If he evacuated the city, he would without a doubt save hundreds of lives, and if he maneuvered his dwindling air support, he could shoot down a number of the enemy’s bombers before they could flee. But, if he did that, there was no doubt he would tip off the enemy that his intelligence people were listening in on those ‘undecipherable’ networks and they would change to a new system. Loss of this information would endanger a proposed invasion and prolong the war by an unknown number of years. What do you think happened?”

  After a short pause, Sabran looked up. “He had to let the enemy bombers go through. Logically, it is the only answer. The needs of the many exceed the needs of the few.”

  “Yes, Chief Sabran, that’s exactly what happened, except the rumors weren’t quite accurate. The truth was there were five possible targets that night and his intelligence people couldn’t identify which city was the target until it was too late to intercept the bombers. The city of Coventry was almost obliterated in the attack. However, we have reason to believe that even if he had known, he wouldn’t have compromised the fate of the war to save a city.”

  “We regret the loss of life on Earth and at Starbase 11, but if their sacrifice brings the war to a close one day sooner, then it was worth it,” her aide spoke up for the first time. “If the Breen or the Dominion had changed that cipher system, we might have lost thousands more lives than we have taking the fight to the Cardassian homeworlds.”

  Admiral Batanides brushed her hair back and gave them a sad look. “Believe me, these decisions were not made without a lot of sleepless nights. There hasn’t been a night that I haven’t questioned myself, wondering if there was another way to do what we did. However, that’s why we brought you directly here. I wanted to be the one who informed you about Starbase 11. Also, I wanted to be the first to thank you for what you did at Mungin. Your efforts were in the highest tradition of Starfleet and SI.”

  Her face turned sober as she continued, the chill evident in her voice. “However, I have to once again inform you that what happened while you were on this temporary assignment is highly classified. Under no circumstances are you ever to talk about Mungin, what you did, where you were, nor who you were with during this time period. This prohibition extends even beyond your service in Starfleet. This program is not likely to be declassified during your lifetimes and therefore must be protected. Do I make myself clear?”

/>   “Yes, sir,” the four of them answered in unison.

  “Very well. There is a reception in your honor being set up in the room next door.” She motioned toward her aide. “Captain Abundez will be your point of contact here on Jupiter Station. He will be working with you to get your next assignment set up as well. As of 2400 tonight, you begin thirty days admin leave. Enjoy, go home, relax, and report back here in one month for reassignment.”

  The others sprang to attention as she stood up. “At ease. You’re the honored guests here. If you’ll please accompany me…” she said, motioning them toward a side door. As they passed through, they found a group of senior Starfleet officers and nearly the entire command of SI waiting for them. The master chief led them down to their seats on the front row as the admiral and her aide moved up to the dais in the front of the room.

  A smattering of applause from the assembled staff officers and senior enlisted caused Bart and the others to exchange embarrassed looks. After a short pause, the admiral began, “Thank you all for coming. We’re assembled today to honor the four members of Project Mungin for their invaluable contribution to the security of the Federation. Without their dedication and commitment to this cause, there is no doubt the Federation would be in truly dire circumstances.”

  The rest of the evening was a blur to Bart. He shook hands with more people than he knew were assigned to SI and made small talk with some who promised great things were ahead for him. All he could think about was Starbase 11 and Earth and the fact that for all his work and all his brilliance and all his ingenuity, they were still as dead as if he’d never solved the problem. All he really remembered about that night was getting stupid drunk with Jamie as quickly as possible before being given two stimtabs and being poured into a shuttlecraft to take him on his “well-deserved” leave.

  Epilogue

  2377

  Bart sat up in his bed as the soft chime from the alarm sounded in the darkness. “Computer, lights,” he said as he sat up and tapped the chronometer to shut off the insistent chime. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he saw a rueful smile on his now clean-shaven face in the mirror. That was a memory he hadn’t had in a long, long time.

  He made his way over to the shower to start getting ready to go on duty, and thought about his companions. They’d all planned to get together, but it seemed that something or other always came up. It just never happened.

  After he’d returned from leave, he’d been assigned to Starbase 92, which had been a rather interesting assignment in its own right. However, when he’d been approached about transferring to the S.C.E. and told about the type of work he’d be doing, he’d jumped at the opportunity to do something completely different.

  Jamie Cruz and he had kept in sporadic contact. Jamie had gone back to the Academy afterward, becoming a chief instructor, before finally retiring a few months back. Bart smiled, thinking about the pictures Jamie had sent him from his home on Alpha Centauri. According to one of the latest notes, he was devoting himself to being a full-time grandfather and spoiling the grandkids rotten. In his spare time, he was working with another instructor, writing a history of Starfleet Academy, just to keep his hand in. Bart knew Jamie might claim to be retired, but he couldn’t imagine his old leader just sitting around not doing anything.

  As Bart pulled his tunic down over his head, he thought about his much put-upon shift mate, Priya Chantrea. Smiling fondly, he knew she’d returned to Bajor after the conclusion of the war, and was present when Bajor joined the Federation last year. She’d rejoined the militia formally, with a well-deserved (in Bart’s opinion) promotion to major. The last he’d heard, she was teaching linguistics at one of the universities on Bajor. She was very active on the faculty council as well as working with the student ambassador program, getting young Bajorans to travel to other Federation worlds to study.

  Sitting down on the edge of his bed, his face sobered as he thought about the remaining member of the quartet. A few weeks before the end of the Dominion War, Jamie had sent him a message. He’d heard through channels that Sabran was killed. He’d been assigned to one of the ships involved in the invasion of Cardassia Prime. Apparently, his ship had come under attack from a Jem’Hadar ship trying to break through the blockade and the section Sabran was working in took a direct hit while its shields were down, leaving no survivors.

  Looking around the room, he continued letting his thoughts wander. He remembered how angry he’d been, how stupid and wasteful it had seemed at the time. It’s amazing how naïve I was back then. I think I understand it better now, especially after Galvan VI. I remember being so guilty afterward. Why them and not me? Why were so many of my friends killed or injured when I escaped virtually unharmed? It really made me appreciate friendships and love more than ever. Life’s too damn short to be afraid to reach out to each other.

  Bart paused, looking at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand over his naked chin, debating once again the wisdom of having shaved his beard off. He had to admit his smooth cheeks made him look about ten years younger than when he’d had that salt-and-pepper beard. As he ran his hand down his chin, he thought about the reluctant member of their little group. I wonder whatever happened to Zarinth? We never saw him or his team again. Mayhew, M’thanga—it’s like they never existed at all. Of course, knowing Zarinth, I’m certain he’s still in Starfleet, terrorizing a new batch of recruits or making some noncom’s life a living hell just because he can.

  Checking the chronometer, he saw it was about time to report for duty. He paused as he reached the door to stare at a black wooden statue. A raven sitting on a rock that looked suspiciously like the moon of Antros III stared back at him. Admiral Batanides technically couldn’t give them an award for their accomplishments because their mission had never actually happened as far as Starfleet was concerned. However, if an admiral wanted to give out a few mementos to some personnel in her command, there was no harm in that, was there?

  Bart patted the raven on the head a couple of times for good luck and quietly shut his door. He was supposed to meet Commander Gomez in a few minutes, so he needed to get moving. As he headed down the corridors of the da Vinci toward the turbolift, he had a sudden thought.

  I need to check to see when I have some leave coming up. I know Anthony may be disappointed, but for some reason, I’m really in the mood to play some racquetball.

  About the Author

  A veteran of licensed fiction, RICHARD C. WHITE’s first work appeared in The Ultimate Hulk anthology, where he cowrote “Assault on Avengers Mansion” with Steven A. Roman. Following that, he wrote a fantasy novel set in the world of Gauntlet: Dark Legacy, Paths of Evil, which was released in July 2004. Echoes of Coventry is his first work in the Star Trek: S.C.E. setting. Before starting his career as a writer, Richard spent fifteen years in the U.S. Army in Military Intelligence as an Analyst, Cryptanalyst, Instructor, and Linguist. A graduate of Central Missouri State University, Richard now resides in Maryland with his wife, Joni, his daughter, Katie, and two cats who can’t understand why he spends all his time on the computer and not attending to their needs like he should.

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