CHARMING HOPE
SB 151 Introductory Tale
The Warrior appeared in a shower of crimson light. His well-shined, heavy boots thudded against the metal flooring as he strode imperiously off of the transporter pad. His immaculate leathern uniform creaked as he turned, sweeping his gaze over the largely empty space of the starbase in disdain. It is even more decrepit on the inside, he thought to himself as he looked at the barren, rusted metal of the floor. Perhaps the taste of bloodwine will wash away this disappointment.
When he swaggered towards the bar, a confounding sight came to his eyes. The other Bekks who had transported down ahead of him packed the wide hall, along with a scattering of dubious-looking scoundrels. However, rather than the expected raucous celebration and wholesale bar fights, his comrades sat about sullenly, and quietly, staring forlornly into their cups. The Warrior shook his head in disbelief as he marched up to the bar and slammed a fist down loudly, startling the Ferengi ringing out his damp clothing behind it. “BLOODWINE!” he demanded in a roaring voice, and all eyes turned to him expectantly. With a cringe, then a nod, the Ferengi bartender filled a heavy mug with bloodwine and set it in front of the Warrior. Snatching the mug up, the Warrior took a mighty drink of the dark red libation… and immediately spit it out. “You call… THIS… bloodwine!?” he exclaimed. The Ferengi shrank back from his fury as his arm raised, ready to hurl the mug. A sudden chuckling behind him drew his attention, and the Ferengi took opportunity of the distraction to scurry to the other end of the bar, tap dancing around the bent mugs and broken glass littering the floor.
“As foul as targ piss, isn’t it!?” laughed an old, fat, Klingon warrior. “However, it is strong enough that after the first mug, you don’t care what it tastes like!” His hair and beard were white with age, and his grinning face had more wrinkles than his forehead had ridges. A leather patch covered his right eye, but not the ruin of scars that led down to his jowls and met at the corner of his mouth. His uniform was scuffed and worn, and from the looks of it may have even been older than he was.
“We don’t often have shipments of bloodwine come in, so we started making our own. I can understand that it is not what you are used to… but that’s no reason to let it go to waste!” With that the old Klingon wrested the mug away from the Warrior’s hand, and chugged the vile liquid down as the Bekks in the room gaped at him. He had already finished and let out a rumbling belch by the time the Warrior realized he should be outraged.
“Who are you, old fool!?” the Warrior snarled, coming face-to-face.
He was met with a calm unflinching gaze and an easy smile. “Hrmn. Yes, old and foolish. That does describe me well. Each year a little more of the one, and less of the other, though. I am Kodon! Son of Graz! …and I welcome you to Starbase 151! ‘Charming Hope’ it is called!”
The Warrior laughed, and soon the other Bekks joined in, until the once quiet room was filled with a gale of laughter. “Charming Hope?” he said mockingly as the laughter died down. “More like ‘Rusting Junk Heap’. Is this truly where we are to be stationed? Until we waste away as you have, to match this ruinous bucket of a starbase?”
The old man grinned, unperturbed. “Oh, to be sure, this starbase and I have seen better days. Days of honor and glory. Bright days that may soon come again…”
The Warrior, taken aback yet again, took stock of the old Klingon a second time. “The way you talk…” he paused, eyeing him critically, “Are you a loresinger, old one?”
“As close to one as you’re like to find in this sector! Come, sit with the others and I will tell you of the history of this proud place. Perhaps then you will see it with different eyes, as I do.”
Grudgingly, the Warrior sat with the others, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“When the Empire invaded the Cardassian Union, Chancellor Gowron decided that a starbase was needed in the area to support the fleets, and secure the borders of the newly conquered sector blocks. The Zenas Expanse was largely unexplored by the Cardassians. Although they had their own station in the Expanse, it was weak and poorly defended. This system, which was named after the great General Chang the Merciless, was deemed the perfect area to work unnoticed by the Union, or Starfleet, until it was too late for either. Work began in secret, shortly after the First Battle of Deep Space 9, where Captain Sisko of Starfleet was able to turn those of us in Gowron’s fleet back, before…."
The old Klingon paused, chuckling as he grinned at the Bekks straining eagerly for his words.
"Ahhh, but that is a story for another time. For now, it suffices to say that cloaked ships would bring in the materials with which the starbase was being built, and it was finished within two years. Well in time, as luck would have it, for the start of the Dominion War.”
“As Starbase 151 was built in secret, the Dominion had no more knowledge of it than the Cardassians. This was greatly to our advantage. For two years, the ‘Charming Hope’ kept our ships and our allies’ ships stocked and repaired and able to rejoin the fight sooner than the Dominion could believe. I am sure all of you have heard tales of the great number of our losses during that war. Surely the gates of Sto-vo-kor were choked with the honorable dead seeking entry. It was decades before the Empire recovered to full military strength. I tell you this truly! Were it not for ‘Charming Hope’ the Empire would not be here today!”
A ripple of muttered amazement spread through the crowd at the bold statement, but he continued on.
“We were put to the test when Dominion scouts finally uncovered our location. A fleet of Breen, Cardassians, and Jem’Hadar were sent forth to capture or destroy the starbase. As many ships were mustered for a defense as could be spared, but our ships were still outnumbered two-to-one. When the Dominion fleet arrived, our ships could not stand before its might. They were parted as flesh is parted by a spear point, leaving an opening to the defenseless base. The Jem’Hadar pushed forward and began boarding the station, soon to take it over and put an end to our resistance. Or so they thought! The ships parting had been a feint, and the unprotected starbase… a red herring!”
At this the collected Bekks looked to each other questioningly, muttering. The Warrior voiced their confusion. “What in Gre’thor is a ‘red herring’?”
“A red herring is um… Well it refers to…” The old Klingon stopped and collected himself, eying his audience. “A red herring is… a type of fish. A... very… crafty fish. Uh… full of guile. It distracts those who would prey on it, leading unwary foes to their doom.”
The Bekks all nodded in understanding, impressed by the qualities of this fish. One stood and called out, “I will go to where these red herrings dwell, and feast upon them one day!” The others murmured their support. A snickering was heard from the back of the room where the rough-looking regulars were congregating. The old one rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure you will. Now, no more interruptions! Where was I? Ah, yes… the battle. When the Jem’Hadar beamed aboard the station they found Klingon warriors waiting expectantly, ready for them. Battle was joined, and bat’leth crashed against kar’takin! Soon the floor became a sea of blood. Meanwhile, our ships, which had parted for the attacking force, were in fact circling to enclose them. They flanked them with the station, which was not as defenseless as it had seemed. Our ships were a hammer, and the ‘Charming Hope’ was the anvil! The station’s weaponry ripped into the hulls of the Dominion fleet even as our defending ships rained death upon them from the other side. Forty-seven Alliance ships and a fleet of a hundred Dominion craft danced out there, in the void. Disruptor cannon fire and polaron beams glittered through the darkness. Torpedoes swarmed like meteors in a night sky! The explosions of warp cores were so numerous it was as though a star had gone nova!”
The old Klingon raised his hands up, clutching at the air, a faraway look in his eyes.
“It. Was. GLORIOUS!”
The Bekks cheered as though they had just won the battle themselves, and even the shady regular patrons couldn’t help but smile.
“The day was won, the station defended, and our enemies defeated. Know that these marks of rust you see upon the floor are where warriors have shed their lifeblood!”
Many of the Bekks reached out, touching the stains reverently. The Warrior felt a great flood of shame at first, but as he considered the old one’s words it was replaced with something else: a feeling of pride in the actions of these long-dead Klingons.
“Starbase 151 continued to serve the Empire, even after war’s end, for many years. ‘Charming Hope’ is now in a sorry state, but it came to be this way not very long ago! When war again broke out with the Federation, it was decided that this station would be of little use, being so far from the bulk of the Empire’s strength. The order was given to gut the station of anything of value, and to leave it in the barest state of operation. The Empire is not like to give up any holding without a fight, so a small contingent was left behind, to face Starfleet when they came, and die defending ‘Charming Hope’. I was honored to be among that number.”
“For days we sang songs, and drank, and prayed, and wrote poetry, and made ready our weapons. Each day we expected to see Federation ships swooping in on our sensor scans, ready to give us our final, glorious end. Days, and days we waited… and the Federation never came. It seemed that Starfleet decided that our starbase was as obsolete as the High Council had. There was no longer any strategic value to taking the station. Here we sat; brave warriors all, feeling impotent and useless as war ravaged the Quadrant around us. How we yearned to be a part of it…”
“We realized that we could not sit idle, those few of us left. Neither could we neglect our duty and leave the station. We would as soon throw away our honor and our loyalty to the Empire. It was then that we began discussing ways that we could strike against the Federation from our remote starbase. We came to the conclusion that the enemies of our enemy could be our friends. It was then that we opened 'Charming Hope' to the use of the pirates of the nearby sectors.”
A tall, shapely, and scantily clad Orion leapt to the top of the table at which she and other regulars were sitting, and shouted, “That would be us!” The room erupted into amused laughter and hoots, and the old, scarred Klingon gave the beautiful Orion a wry grin. When finally the Orion reclaimed her seat, and his audience had calmed down again, the old Klingon continued.
“Our friends, the pirates, would harass and prey upon Starfleet’s supply lines, as well as disrupting trade among the Federation and their allies. In return we offered them a safe harbor. A place where they could resupply, trade, or simply disappear for a time. Even with our strength a sliver of what it once was, we were still a thorn in the side of the enemies of the Empire!”
“Now, things are changing again. There is a cease-fire, and the war may be at an end. Whereas before our only neighbors were the sundered and distant Cardassians, and the reclusive Lorians, who were of no concern, the Expanse is now being flooded with species from far away who have been transposed here. Colonies of friend and foe alike now vie for the surrounding systems. Starfleet has taken over the old Cardassian station and now musters a fleet there! The Empire has seen all of these changes taking place, and knows that the time for ‘Charming Hope’ to rise again has arrived."
"You are the first of many yet to be sent here. YOU will help return this starbase to its former glory. YOU will take an active hand in changing the course of events in the Expanse, events that will have lasting repercussions throughout the Quadrant, even throughout the Galaxy! Down through the years it will be YOU who will be sung of in tales of greatness. Glories undreamed of await you now! You have but to reach out and grasp them! You need only trust in those three virtues that make up the blades of the symbol which Kahless gave to the Empire. The three things that are found in the heart of every true warrior! For duty! For loyalty! For honor!”
He pulled out his d'k tahg and raised it high.
“FOR THE EMPIRE! QAPLA'!!!”
The hall erupted into a thunderous roar as the Bekks, the Orion, and many of the other pirates echoed him. So loud was it that the poor Ferengi barkeep had to clamp his hands over his lobes. For hours afterwards they drank, and fought, and sang songs of battles and heroes…
…and the young Warrior, and the old, raised a toast together to ‘Charming Hope’.
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