The Art of War

Posted on Mon May 13th, 2024 @ 9:53am by Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D & Major Jason Burke

Mission: The Trojan Horse
Location: Officers Lounge
Timeline: MD2. Evening
1977 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

"Major", P'rel nodded as she collected her tea from the bar he was propped up against. She had yet to decide what to make of him; competent by all accounts, professional certainly, not as unintelligent as she'd expected either. Still, there was something about him which made her....uncertain; something which radiated danger in the juxtaposed Starfleet Delta inlaid in black within the hilt of a combat knife. Raising her tea, she smelt the familiar warm herbs of Cardassia mixed with a Earth rhizome called 'ginger', and turned to walk towards a small unattended table next to one of the windows, turning back instead and sitting at the bar next to the Major clasping her tea in both hands.

"Commander P'rel." Burke returned the greeting with a fairly neutral nod. He waited until she took a seat near him before noticing her unspoken desire to engage in a conversation. That was fairly standard for Vulcans, but not one he was expecting from this one. "You have the appearance of someone who wants to ask a question."

"I have no such appearance" she corrected him, albeit though he was coincidentally correct. "However, since you have prompted the same, I shall ask...". P'rel paused a moment to assemble the words in an order which would be less likely to offend the man; "I do not understand why you do not find a contradiction between being part of Starfleet, and being a combat solider...and I am curious if you can enlighten me...".

"Contradiction? Now there's a word that comes with some connotations," Burke noted with a faint, thin smile. "I didn't hear you mention the word 'logic' but I'll assume you meant to. Logically, the history of the Federation is littered with conflicts; from the very outset of the Coalition of Planets dealing with the Romulans...the first Klingon War...the Dominion..." He shrugged. "We'll always need people with the stomach for a fight, even if we're not the aggressor."

P'rel paused for a moment, wondering if first to parry the barb about logic or attack the must more interesting word "Aggressor..." she had spoken aloud without realising. Containing her momentary lapse in concentration, she ploughed on; "a word with some connotations also...I certainly concede that centuries ago the galaxy was a more militarised environment all around..." she took a sip of tea. "But recently? The Dominion? Now Major, who do you really believe was the aggressor in that war?".

"The obvious answer is that the Klingons backed the Cardassians into a corner, forcing them into the arms of the Dominion...and we couldn't allow them a foothold here in the Alpha Quadrant," Burke responded. He inclined his head slightly. "You fought in the war, didn't you?"

"I was in Starfleet during the war" she confirmed noncommittally, and not wanting to go down that particular avenue of discussion. She took a sip of her tea and held up one finger to show that she was yet to finish her words; "Major I do not take you for a man who is satisfied with only the obvious. What do you really think precipitated the war?" she challenged.

Burke paused before answering, studying the Vulcan's face. "I suspect you have an answer of your own to that question, but that's fine. My answer would be that there isn't just one reason. Sure, we could blame changelings infiltrating governments...but in my experience war is cyclical; as one generation passes, we forget about the horrors of the last one. We forget the lessons, and the sacrifices our forebears made." He paused, reining-in his own lyrical waxing. "Wars are rarely triggered by one event, Lieutenant Commander. There's plenty of responsibility to go around."

"As I said..." she began, sipping her tea again; "you do not strike me as someone who settles for the obvious...". She shifted position in her seat, placing her tea down and steepling her fingers in a way that Vulcans were often wont to do before embarking on a lecture. "I do, indeed, have an answer of my own but I am afraid it predates your example of infiltrating governments. The simple fact is Major, it was Starfleet and the Federation who started the war. More so, it was the militarism of the same. Do you not think?" she probed.

"Militarism?" he echoed, a little surprised she had used the word so pointedly. "While I can understand that being one perspective I disagree." He tilted his head slightly, as if motioning to a far-off place. "The motto on the Athena's plaque: Nunquam Non Paratus. It means 'Never Unprepared'. Preparation is different to aggression."

"I see" she responded flatly. "Major, if in let us say the Andorian sector somewhere, or perhaps close to Betazed...a wormhole opened from the other side of the galaxy. Exploratory craft began to come through, and colonies were established on uninhabited - but not unclaimed - worlds close to Andoria or Betazed...what do you suppose would be the emotional reaction of Starfleet Command? Or the Federation Council...?".

"Diplomatic," he responded firmly. "The Federation would negotiate first. They wouldn't suicide-ram one of their ships into a Galaxy-class starship just to prove a point," he challenged. "As much as some days we'd like them to..."

"I suggest panic" she countered. "Major you are far too experienced to believe that neither Command nor Council would not have military options ready to go". She sipped her tea again. "Though let us take your words for a moment...colonies have been established deep within Federation space, within easy reach of Sol, this unknown organisation is populating the region, mining and extracting resources. We find yet another of their scouting craft orbiting yet another of our worlds, presumably for further colonisation reconnaissance, and we extract two of their number for peaceful interrogation". P'rel held her hand up to gain a server's attention and motioned for another tea to be sent.

"In response..." she continued "...an enormous and heavily armed battleship appears flanked by support craft attempting to breach a defence perimeter of three - let's say Sabre Class vessels - and reach the planet". She paused for a moment to let her point fully be absorbed; "and we would not open fire?". We she herself being less diplomatic, her sentence may have ended with 'are you truly that stupid?' though she briefly concluded that the message had been conveyed regardless.

Burke stared over at the Vulcan for a long moment, a look of curiosity flashing on his face as he pondered her hypothetical scenario.

"It seems you have a predetermined notion of what the outcome would be," he noted. "Honestly, I don't know what they would do. But it's not my job to make that decision. Nor is it yours. They pay other people for that." He paused. "You're an intelligence officer, aren't you, Lieutenant Commander? I'm sure you've had to make decisions in your career that could result in significant outcomes. Have you heard of the Coventry dilemma?"

"I have not" she admitted. "Though -" she interjected before he could enlighten her "- you are quite correct that I have predetermined notions, and I would imagine you do as well. Consider this also; after that said encounter the next vessel we sent into Dominion space..." she said, now reversing the contexts to the 'real' players in the scenario, "...was an 'armed to the teeth' warship which could become invisible....". She looked out to the stars for a moment and stressed with her hands as she spoke; "I do not know of your Coventry dilemma, does it have anything about provoking a war and playing a victim...?".

"The Coventry dilemma, named after an old Earth city." Burke leaned forward. "You're at war with an enemy, but you have cracked their encryption and can read their communications. You learn that they will be imminently launching an attack on a civilian target in the city of Coventry. There will be huge loss of life. You could choose to act, preventing the attack but revealing you have decrypted their codes...or you can let the attack happen, ensuring the enemy doesn't know you've decrypted them and granting you future success - at the cost of countless civilians. What do you do?"

"A classic logic puzzle, not unlike the cryptos of D'kar..." P'rel replied, taking a moment to pause and consider. "There is ultimately no correct answer. My understanding from the history of warfare on Earth, is that during your second recognised global war in the mid twentieth century, that this occurred many times. As you suggested, within Intelligence there are often occasions where significant decisions are in the hands of field officers, that is true. Such is the decentralised nature of Starfleet; field officers of any branch often find themselves with the unilateral freedom to make galactic choices". She looked back out to the stars for a moment. "Tell me, do you agree with this system of governance in Starfleet? The post-de-facto reporting to the Admirality, rather than a more stringent military?".

"In any military service in my culture, it's historically recognised that a decentralised structure of leadership is vastly superior to one filled with...bureaucracy. Take the ancient Roman legions; they became extraordinarily effective because of their Centurion system, who understood the tactics and requirements of their commanders." Burke paused, faintly smiling. "The answer is training and recruitment; you put leaders in the right places where they can make informed and effective decisions. I mean, I've always preferred asking for forgiveness than seeking permission. I suspect you're quite similar in that regard."

"Perhaps" she conceded, though mentally noting that vast majority of the less morally appealing actions she'd been involved with had been at the direct behest of Starfleet Command. "Do you believe Captain Sisko of Deep Space Nine was acting on forgiveness or permission when he continually provoked the Dominion into war, Major?" she challenged, taking a final sip of tea from the cup in front of her. "An effective leader?" she quipped as she set the cup down, perhaps indicating her distinct lack of tolerance for the man.

Burke nodded thoughtfully and eyed his glass for a moment. He chose not to directly answer her question. "The 'what if' scenario is your line of work, Commander P'rel; intelligence officers pride themselves on knowing everything, especially from afar." His mouth curled up slightly. "But never in history has a conflict been started by a single act; as I said before, that was a sequence of events; the Klingons attacking the Cardassians, forcing them to side with the Dominion...the Romulans joining the conflict later. Very little of that was caused by one individual. As much as history would like to paint things that way."

P'rel eyed the Major for a moment before returning her cup to the table gently. He was clearly a company man, as some would say; not without his own brain certainly, but seemingly unwilling to use it much. Another devotee in the service of the great and holy Federation. "I respect your evasiveness Major..." she replied, tilting her head slightly, "Let us hope you are equally as agile in combat". And combat it most certainly would be, there was simply no way this mission was going to be resolved via negotiation or settlements.

"Wouldn't have gotten this far if I wasn't, Commander," Burke replied, tipping his own drink in vague salute before taking a final sip.

P'rel nodded at him in a deep long nod, acknowledging that there was no real resolution to their discussion; nor any lack of ambiguity about the task which lay ahead. Getting this far was not, in and of itself, a guarantee of getting any further. Her eyes returned to the stars, as she wondered just how much of the upcoming days would be in their control...