Deep Space Nine
War of the Warrior - Part 1
by Mike Porter
(mporterz@yahoo.com)

War of the Warrior

Authors Note: This story takes place in an alternate DS9 timeline. In Episode 74 "The Way of the Warrior" (part 2) the Federation reinforcements fail to arrive in time, and Deep Space Nine falls to the Klingons. This leads to full scale war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation, and a Klingon occupation of Bajor. Several months later....

Chapter One: To Stand Against The Dark

"The Klingon cruiser's closing, Captain." Commander Worf's voice was tense. He looked up into the face of his captain, hoping to see the sort of miracle he had witnessed before. Instead, the captain's eyes were blank and distant. Almost dead. "Captain?"

Captain Ben Sisko suddenly came to life. "Lay out dispersion fire. Make them back off. A little." Another photon torpedo tore into the Defiant as several Klingon ships advanced on its position. They couldn't take on the Klingon ships alone of course, but there were other ways. There were always other ways.

"Yes, Sir." Worf began manipulating the controls with easy skill. He had always been a talented gunner and was one of the most experienced officers the USS Defiant had. After the captain, of course.

The dispersion fire had only limited effectiveness against so many ships. Some of the Klingon ships kept cloaking and uncloaking, making it difficult to keep tract of the size of the advancing force. Not being able to target all the Klingon vessels made their task that much more difficult, but none of them was willing to give up simply because their enemy was better equipped, better armed and in better condition than they were. As the captain had put it, 'They fall down too. It just hurts them more.'

"Any sign we've hit them yet, Worf?" Sisko asked. He was in his chair. He hardly ever left it these days.

"Not quite," Worf replied. "They're still jamming with our sensors too much for us to tell. Lieutenant?"

"They are slowing down, and their weapons seem no more effective than ours are."

"Well I'll be...." muttered Sisko. "Maybe that countering system the Romulans sold us does actually work after all. How are the warp engines looking, Julian?"

"Another ten minutes or so."

"Damn! Fine. Keep laying out that dispersion fire, Worf." Sometimes Worf had a great deal of trouble reading Captain Sisko, but now was not one of those times. The captain seemed to live for combat, only becoming truly alive in battle.

"Captain!" spoke up the lieutenant. "We're losing shield integrity on aft decks, down almost thirty per cent. The Klingon cruiser has taken heavy damage."

Captain Sisko nodded. "Good. Order all fighters to open fire on the lead Klingon Cruiser. Make the damage as large as they can, but get out of there after a minute. Worf, prepare to fire quantum torpedoes."

He looked so competent and collected, Worf thought. Always ready for everything. No panic. No fear. The Worf supposed he understood. The captain had lost too much in this war to have any fears for his life. It was very...Klingon of him.

"Fighters pulling back," the lieutenant snapped. "The cruiser's powering up her forward disrupters!"

"Launch quantum torpedoes and initiate evasive maneuvers."

There was a moment, the Worf knew, in the heat of every battle, when time seemed to slow down, when the threat of impending death or the promise of renewed life stretched out over what was little more than a few seconds. How long for the cruiser to fire? How long for the Defiant's torpedoes to reach the target?

"Torpedoes launched, Captain," said the lieutenant. He knew about the long second as well. Worf clenched his hand into a fist. This was a very long second.

Then the floor seemed to shake and shudder beneath his feet. At first the Worf thought the Klingon ship had managed to fire, but then the long second passed and he realized that the cruiser had been destroyed. The other Klingon ships withdrew and cloaked. He looked around. There was no joy in their victory. This time they had won, yes, but what was one victory when set beside the mass of defeat? They had all lost so much in this war. Far too much. Worf turned to Sisko, "Once battle has begun my people do not retreat. They will be back, with more ships."

"Tell those Fighters to withdrawal!" barked the captain. "Are the warp engines back on line? Good. The nearest safe haven we can dock is Star Base Seventy, so set a course for there and get whatever engineers we have left working to repair that damage."

"Aye, Captain."

"So much for this year being better than the last one," Sisko said angrily.

"We're still alive, aren't we?"

"If you can call this alive. I have a feeling about this year, Mr. Worf. Status, Doctor?"

"Low causalities, Captain."

"Good." Captain Ben Sisko nodded to himself. This had been a very long war. Ten months too long. "Good."

* * * * * * *

"You need rest," said a stern and commanding voice. The Klingon woman looked up and smiled, as much as any Klingon women ever allowed herself to. Rogg had always had that effect on her. Her father's best friend, the only part of him she still had left. "You have been here too long, Lestia."

"When I was a child, you berated me for not training long enough," she replied, her eyes sparkling.

"That was then, and the great prerogative of age is the ability to change one's mind at will. Then, you were always daydreaming, staring out of that window like a statue cast in crystal. And now you are always in training for battle.

"I can try, and fourteen years is hardly overnight, old friend."

"I thought you might have learned by now." He sat down beside her and began brushing his fingers through the small beard he had taken to wearing. A strange habit, almost Romulan in fashion. "You cannot defeat the universe all by yourself, Lestia. Karkas tried to teach you that, remember?"

She started and rose suddenly. "Karkas is no longer here, Rogg. He made his own choice."

"As did you, but the fact that your choices were in agreement does not make them right."

Rogg was infuriating when he was like this, but Lestia knew that her decision had been the right one. Karkas had his own path to tread, and she had hers. Wherever Karkas was now, she hoped he was well. "Perhaps you are right," she said. "Perhaps I do need rest."

She knew that Rogg was watching her as she left the room, but she was not troubled by it. It was almost.... comforting. At times he did remind her of her father.

The sight of the sun of the Klingon Homeworld reflecting off the dark features of the city never failed to fill her heart with pride, and it did so now. She saw a black-robed warrior standing not far away, and sighed.

"It appears the call of duty reaches you," Rogg said, emerging from the room to stand beside her. The warrior walked forward, keeping his head bowed as was traditional when approaching a member of the High Council. "Lestia, the High Council requests your presence."

"More discussion about the war, I suppose."

"Martok was a great man," Rogg said softly. He and Martok had been friends.

"There have been many great figures in our history," Lestia replied. "And all are dead."

"Death claims us all sooner or later."

"In far too many cases, it is the sooner." Lestia looked down at the warrior. "We cannot keep the Council waiting." Everything was changing, and not for the better. She suddenly shivered, and wrapped her robe more tightly around her as she walked toward the council chambers.

* * * * * * *

Admiral Ross sat alone in the darkened conference room, looking over battle reports. The Klingons were closing on Betazed in their largest campaign of the war. The entire 7th Fleet was in ruins, a force of 234 ships reduced to 18 in the last months fighting. Two newly detected Klingon Fleets had also been detected advancing on Vulcan space in a large pincer movement. Also in that sector the Romulans seemed to be massing their forces along the boarder. On another map the Klingons seemed poised to capture Cardassia Prime, but their forces were now spread thin over several fronts. The Romulan incursions into Cardassian space had also distracted their attention for the time being. "We could lose this war."

A voice addressed him from the doorway. "If you think so Admiral, you'd better not say anything about it."

Captain Ben Sisko smiled, a rare sight following the fall of Bajor. The Admiral grinned as well, caught off guard. "Ben, I didn't hear you come in. Have a seat. You want anything?"

"No sir. I came because you requested it. I'd really like to get back to the Defiant as soon as possible."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible Captain Sisko. You've been reassigned. Star Fleet command has a special mission in mind, and I could think of no one better to call on."

Sisko grinned. "So Picard said no uh?"

The Admiral frowned. "The Enterprise disappeared last week while on a reconnaissance mission near the Romulan boarder."

"Damn." Sisko paused for a moment. "What's the mission?"

"We have captured a Klingon Bird of Prey in pretty good shape. I'm not going to lie to you Ben, this war is going very badly for us. Star Fleets primary mission has always been one of peace. For the Klingons, war is a way of life. We need you to cross the frontlines and penetrate deep into Klingon space. Your target will be the Klingon shipyards at the Praxis nebula."

Sisko nodded. He was being send on a suicide mission, and he was ready to go. "So, you want me and my crew to fly aroud in Klingon space and play Jim Kirk for a few weeks. Fair enough. How do I destroy one of the biggest Klingon shipyards on record with one Bird of Prey?"

"That's where our Cardassian allies come in. They've developed some sort of new weapon, essentially a cruiser packed with a few thousand kilograms of anti-matter."

Sisko whistled, "That's enough force to destroy a planet."

"Or a Klingon shipyard. You are to meet up with Cardassian forces at Alpha 7, where they will deliver the weapon to you."

"Who's in command of Alpha 7?"

"Gul Dukat."

"Dukat." Sisko spat out the word as though it were a curse. "I think you'd better find someone else for this mission Admiral. Dukat and I don't get along very well, and my crew...."

* * * * * * *

"I am very grateful for your kind assistance, Gul Dukat," Sisko was saying. "With your help, repairs should only take twenty-four hours or so, and then we will be gone."

"You are always welcome here, Captain Sisko," the Cardassian said, speaking slowly and precisely. Gul Dukat might have possessed the ruthless ambition to rise far in the new Cardassian Republic, but he at least knew how to follow basic orders. "We all owe you a great debt. I was at Elmaric Fifteen when you helped us in our battle against the Romulans."

"Yes, I know." The Cardassians, eh? Great allies when it came to politeness and fawning, but ask for any ships or dilithium or shipments of photon torpedoes, and it was all 'not politically advantageous' or 'large sums of money needed to meet overheads'. They hadn't been speaking about large sums of money or political advantages when he'd led the Defiant into the battle of Elmaric 15, or to carry supplies to Cardassia through a Klingon blockade, or to launch that last, desperate attack against the Klingon fleet at Sector 48.

Oh, stop moaning, Sisko thought to himself. They have been useful allies after a fashion. At least they force the Klingons and Romulans to fight on more that one front. Better than no allies at all, I suppose. The Admiral had ordered Sisko on this mission despite his objections. With the Alpha Quadrant in such a dire position, Sisko was hardly going to refuse a direct order.

"Thank you again for your assistance, Dukat. My Government appreciates everything you're doing for us. This mission is of the utmost importance to the Federation."

"It is a small matter, Captain Sisko. Would you care to bring a few members of your command crew down to the surface for a little rest? I would very much like to meet you in person once again."

"Why yes, thank you, Dukat. I would be honored. I will see you in one standard hour, then."

"Until then, Captain."

The Cardassian's face blinked from the view screen and Sisko sat back, sighing softly. There was something about the Cardassians he just plain didn't like. It wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but it always annoyed him, having to go groveling to them for help after the fall of DS9. Perhaps that was it. He shouldn't have to go groveling to Cardassians for help. He shouldn't have to go to a Bajoran colony and ask permission to set out orbit there. Dammit, he shouldn't have to go to a Bajoran colony where the Bajorans were ruled by Cardassians, worked for Cardassians and were taxed by Cardassians.

On the other hand, if the Cardassians hadn't made such a swift move on Alpha 7 and other colonies after the Battle of Bajor, the Klingons might have turned their attentions there.

Sisko felt as though he had let down the Bajoran people, that he had failed in his command. And now what was he? A fallen leader, a hero, a demon, a mass murderer, the Emissary of the Prophets, husband, father, or simply a man who didn't know when to stop fighting a war he couldn't win?

"Worf, I'll be going down to the planet for a personal meeting with Dukat. Would you like to come as well?"

"I'll be busy here, Captain, I'm afraid," Worf replied with false sincerity. Worf liked Cardassians even less than Sisko did.

"Very well. Doctor Bashir, contact Lieutenants Stevens and Edwards. The four of us can fly down to the surface and socialize with a Cardassian or three."

"Yes, Captain." Bashir did not look happy, but then no one did these days.

Administrator Gul Dukat. A Cardassian ruling a colony of Bajorans. A former enemy. Sisko was not looking forward to this.

* * * * * * *

"Blasted savage vermin! Oughta chuck 'em all back into space, if you ask me!"

"Peter. You're drunk."

"Certainly hope so, or all that fine.... whatever it was.... will've gone to waste."

Matt Cott looked fondly at his wife Cathy, who smiled back and shrugged. Her shrug said it all. He's your brother. Ergo, your problem.

"Only one step above the Klingons, I think. Oh, the Romulans too. Those ridiculous hairstyles of theirs. Wonder if they realize how stupid they look." Matt rose to his feet and moved towards his younger brother, who was gesturing wildly. "Breen, too! You'd have thought someone could teach them to put a proper sentence together. It's not that hard. No, Joe, lemme 'lone."

"Peter, if you keep insulting aliens like you've been doing, you'll get into a fight."

"Fine, take 'em all on." Fortunately for Peter, the bar contained only humans and Bajorians at the moment. The Cardassians tended to stick to their own places and there were precious few other non-humans around. Alpha 7 wasn't exactly a thriving hub of activity at the best of times.

Cathy sighed softly. "And again."

"He's just drunk, that's all. He doesn't mean it."

"He's always drunk, Joe. He works on the Cardassian systems all day and drinks all night. He's going to kill himself one day. If a Cardassian doesn't do it for him first."

"I know, I know, but.... it's understandable really. Things haven't been easy here under the Cardassians. Not since the war started. We did much better business before they allied with us."

"I know things haven't been very nice here, but you can't let Peter just throw his life away. I care about him too, you know."

Matt turned back to his brother, who was trying to rearrange his hair into a Romulan V shape. "Come on, Peter. Let's go home."

"Home? Ain't got no home. Klingons destroyed it. Destroyed it all."

Matt sighed again. This was going to be a long night.

* * * * * * *

"You seem a little.... on edge, Captain Sisko?" Gul Dukat politely offered Sisko a drink, which he equally politely refused. He'd tasted Cardassian drinks before. Edwards hadn't, and took it. A quick swallow later and she was clearly regretting it.

"Just a little.... added tension from the long trip, that's all. I always feel like this during a mission."

"I see. And what news of the Klingons? If that is not secret of course?"

"Same as usual, really. They're trying to blow everything in their path out of the stars."

"I had some experience with the Klingons before, you know Sisko. I was told that they always acted as one, as fearless warriors. When the war began fourteen of your months ago, they all went mad together. Perhaps they have all woken up together?"

"A little late for that, isn't it?"

"What is the human saying? Better late than never?"

"I've never put much stock in sayings myself."

"How are things with your Government, Administrator?" Bashir asked. He had enough medical knowledge to be a gifted doctor, but he refused to leave Sisko's side. He kept taking combat assignments for some reason, when he could be sitting behind a nice safe desk at Starfleet Command.

Bashir was the only one remotely at ease in this room, Spartan and dark as were all Cardassian accommodations. A rack of candles rested on a stone table, an ancient book caught in their flickering glow. Stevens was hanging around the back of the room, plainly wishing he were somewhere else. Edwards was still recovering from whatever it was Gul Dukat had given her, and Sisko.... he just wanted to be away from here.

"Oh, the same as usual, Lieutenant," Gul Dukat replied. "Or so I am led to believe. I am a little far out from the political hub here, you know. The Republic does as it will."

"Yes, but still, your help has been very valuable to us, Administrator," Sisko said. Was that a flash of something in the Cardassian's blood-red eyes? Something mysterious?

"It is freely given, Captain. In memory of Elmaric Fifteen. How long will your repairs take?"

"About twenty-four hours or so."

"Ah." The Cardassian suddenly looked down. "I am sorry for this, Captain. The order came directly from the Senators themselves. I disagreed, but I cannot ignore it."

Every instinct in Sisko's body was warning him about something, and then he caught it. Not a smell, not a sound or a sight, but a feeling. A feeling that had never been wrong before. Klingons!

Instantly, he grabbed his Phaser and spun round so that his back was to the wall. It was too late. The door of Gul Dukat's room burst open and six Klingon poured in, big ones, wearing black and carrying those blades of theirs. Sisko fired his phaser instantly, catching the first one square in the chest. The Klingon fell, but the others were fast, so damned fast.

Stevens was nearest to them. He made a brief movement of surprise, but was helpless as a knife slashed across his face, sending him tumbling back against the wall, still and unmoving. Poor Warren. He only ever seemed alive in his beloved fighter. Sisko fired again, but this time he inflicted only a flesh wound.

Bashir had tried to draw his own Phaser, but his instincts were still those of a doctor, not a warrior, and he was felled with simple blows to the leg and side. Edwards had managed to get her weapon out, and she had downed one Klingon.

The ship! The ship comes first! Sisko activated his link as quickly as he could. "Sisko to Worf! Get out of here! Repeat! Get the hell out of here! Worf, you...." A blow struck his arm, knocking him off balance and causing him to fumble his Phaser. He tried lunging forward with a punch, but it barely connected.

Damn Klingons! They were too fast, and too good.

A fist crashed against his skull, and consciousness faded.

* * * * * * *

Elsewhere, out on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant, a dead world swarmed with life once more. From a world without a name, a shuttle rose up and flew into space.