In Veritas

Posted on Sep 03, 2014 @ 2:21pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane & Captain Siobhan Reardon
Edited on on Sep 03, 2014 @ 2:22pm

Mission: Absolute Power

"IN VERITAS"

(Continued from "But I'm Dating A Semi-Sadist")
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"The confession of evil works is always the beginning of good works."
- St. Augustine

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Location: Starfleet Headquarters
Stardate: [2.14]0903.0230
Scene: Outside the courtroom


The Board of Inquiry had closed a few minutes ago, Secretary Martine's gavel bringing the curtain down on a frustrating and stressful experience for all concerned. The Board's findings had been what had been hoped for - the USS Discovery, NCC-12001, had been lost with a large number of hands in star system K-60. Direct cause of the ship's loss had been multiple hull breaches resulting from the shearing forces of the gravitic turbulence in that system.

The news was already out on FedCom, and a large number of journalists were congregating like vultures in the main lobby, so much so that the security guards had been deployed to restrict their access beyond. Word had also spread like wildfire around the building, and as the senior officers of the lost starship put their backs to the courtroom and walked away, every eye was on them, human and alien.

Michael Turlogh Kane led Jake Crichton, Kassandra Thytos, and Russ BaShen away from that room like he was walking away from a graveyard, and nobody dared bar their progress. Indeed, a certain amount of respect was emanating from everyone wearing a Starfleet uniform, and when one of them started to clap grimly, and then another, and when there was a rousing crescendo of applause coming from their peers that shook the very roof of Starfleet Headquarters, the quartet stopped and stood, soaking up the noise and solidarity from hundreds of people they neither knew nor had met before.

All around, people were clapping and nodding approval. Not from some 'stick-it-to-the-man' triumphalism, but born from the stark realisation that losing one's life in the service was always a possibility. That one truth cut sharper than any Damoclean blade, and when the dozens of Starfleet personnel outside the Board of Inquiry began to clap, they were doing it with a healthy dose of 'there-but-for-the-grace-of-my-god-go-I'. What had happened to the crew of the Discovery might one day happen to any of them, and that knowledge sobered everyone who might be inclined to judge, who took for granted a life behind a desk.

Kane turned to Jake, Russ, and Kass, emotion welling up inside him but trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral. Russ and Kass were the closer to him, so he reached out and grasped their shoulders. In turn, they held on to Jake, completing the circle as the cheers rang out around them.

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Scene: Antechamber


The two Admirals and one Secretary entered the adjoining room for what Martine hoped would be the last time in a long time. The only one of them who bore any trace of a smile was Richard Edgerton. He may have not gotten exactly what he wanted, but he did set the stage for serving Crichton’s head on a silver platter.

He couldn’t resist pouting at Martine. “You look disappointed.”

She glared at him, a purely antagonistic cobalt stare. “Of course I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed at the sheer loss of life. I’m disappointed that there wasn’t more empirical data from the CENTURY. I’m disappointed that it practically took an act of Congress to get everyone focused on the real reason for the inquiry and not looking for ways to throw these people to the wolves. And I’m disappointed that I didn’t get more satisfaction from the process.”

Edgerton pushed his hair back into place, stifling a laugh. He didn’t want to miss the main event. “Speaking of this tedious process, look at the time. Sorry to run, but if you’ll excuse me I am needed elsewhere. Admiral, Madam Secretary,” he hastily acknowledged them and was gone.

Marie-Claire draped her jacket over the nearest chair, revealing a sleeveless shell in the same color underneath. She replicated two petite snifters of brandy, bringing one over to Admiral Halle. “Votre santé,” she said to the man,

He sniffed the drink questionably.

“It’s Grand Marnier,” she quipped, taking a sip. “It won’t hurt you.”

He looked at the glass, then at Martine. It had been a hell of a day. He then drank some of the amber liquid. The pleasant taste of oranges mingling with blossoms and honeyed alcohol came back warmly in his throat. “Not bad.”

The newly baptised Secretary of Starfleet sat down next to him. “I will tell you one thing I’m not disappointed about,” MC said to Arto Halle.

“What?”

“That they took the Intel Star away from that conniving bastard.”

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Scene: Outside the courtroom, as before


The applause was ebbing away, tidal in its going, bringing with it a commotion that broke their reverie. At the end of the corridor near the turbolift, a group of Starfleet Security guards were coming forward.

Kane looked, and saw Richard Edgerton watching from the distance. There was no expression on the Neo-Essentialist leader's face, something which set Kane on edge. Whatever had happened when Edgerton had been called away from the Board of Inquiry earlier might have put a dent in the man, but for a brief moment Kane's eyes locked with his, and Edgerton's upper lip curled into a sneer.

The all-Human security team, three guards led by a female junior grade lieutenant, approached. Their hands were behind their backs, a seemingly-nonchalant stance that was designed to let people clearly see the phasers on their hips.

The female lieutenant stepped forward. He face was hard-edged, and she had a pink scar above her right eye. "Commander Jacob Crichton?"

Kane was on her like a dog on a rat. "I'm Commander Crichton's commanding officer. What's the meaning of this?"

The lieutenant regarded him coolly. "Commander Crichton is under arrest. The charge is negligence of his duties during the events that led to the loss of the Discovery, based on his own testimony to the recent Board of Inquiry. Commander Crichton is to be held at the Starfleet stockade in New Zealand, pending activation of a court-martial."

"This is outrageous!" roared Kane, making her jump. "Who the hell gave this order?"

"The order was given by Admiral Ezkar, the Judge Advocate General," said the lieutenant. She passed a PADD to Kane, and he read it. "Commander Crichton, if you'll come with us?"

Russ and Kass looked on in shock as the security guards surrounded Jake and led him away. Kane deactivated the PADD. "Stay strong, Mister Crichton," he said uselessly. "We'll fight this!"

In front of a crowd that was cheering until a few moments ago, Jake Crichton was led away to an uncertain future.

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Scene: Starfleet HQ Transporter Room


A few minutes later, Kane was watching as Russ and Kass said their goodbyes. They were beaming out of the building rather than face the motley crew of journalists in the lobby, transporting themselves to places that fitted where they needed to be right now.

"Y'all take of yourself now," said Kass as she stepped onto the transporter pad. "I sure hope we all meet again."

Russ was already waiting on a separate pad. "Good luck, Kass. Goodbye, Captain Kane."

"No goodbyes, Mister BaShen," said Kane. "Good journeys, to you both, until we meet again."

Kane watched as the transporter beams energised, spiriting them away. Crews often broke up, he knew, and it was a rare thing for a group of people to serve together for an extended period. On every posting he had served, there was always a river of people coming and going. There was no such thing as stability and constance. Life was a series of hellos and goodbyes, and now it was time for goodbyes again.

But he couldn't leave, not yet. He had promised Jake Crichton that he would put things aright, owed that and more to Kass and Russ for what they had gone through on the stand under the eyes of the triumvirate. Edgerton had been their enemy, no question about it, and Halle seemed ambivalently neutral, but Secretary Martine had been surprisingly sympathetic with her lines of questioning. It gave him hope - there were allies out there, there must be. Perhaps she was one of them.

Bur first he had a call to make.

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Location: Venice, Italy
Scene: Bonviva Villa


Erika was the nearest, and the only one inside the house, when the communicator chimed. Everyone else was out in the back garden enjoying a splendid burnt orange sunset. The happy shrieks of the younger children lingered in the air as they chased each other.

She reached the communicator screen in the living room and activated it. The black screen winked, showing the picture of a man's face. He was wearing a Starfleet uniform, and it took a moment for Erika to remember, but she suddenly recognised the face of the captain who had been on the Century. The man who had talked to her about her mother.

He saw her too, and he smiled. {{Hello, Admiral.}}

Erika felt a flush of embarrassment. "Do you need to speak to my step-mother?"

The man chuckled to himself, and shook his head. {{Putting the two of us face to face is not a good idea.}} When he looked up, his features were deadly serious. {{I know she's on her way home from her own hearings today, and I need you to deliver a message to her. But I'm afraid it's not good news.}}

Erika nodded. "Alright. I'm ready."

{{Tell her that the Board of Inquiry has concluded as we hoped, but that your step-father has been arrested pending a court-martial.}}

Erika's jaw dropped. "They arrested Jake?"

{{I'm sorry, Erika, but yes. Commander Crichton - Jake - is being taken to the Starfleet stockade in New Zealand. You must tell your step-mother as soon as she gets home, do you understand?}}

Erika nodded. "Yes. Is he okay? Couldn't you stop them?"

{{He's fine, and I wish I could have. Your step-mother will be able to help him better than I can, because she has access to more powerful contacts than I do. I have to go now, but will you tell her?}}

"Yes, I will. As soon as she gets in."

He smiled at her again. {{Thank you, Admiral. Kane out.}}

The screen winked off into blackness, that matched the pit of worry opening in Erika's stomach.

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Location: Paris, France
Scene: Office of the Secretary of Starfleet


As it turned out, Kane needn't have worried about getting through Martine's flunkies. As luck would have it, the turbolift doors opened just as she and her bodyguard were emerging from her office to go home for the day.

Kane stepped forward. "Secretary Martine?"

The older woman looked at him in askance. "Captain Kane." She gestured to her bodyguard that it was alright. "This is somewhat irregular. What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you. Off the record."

"I'm sorry, Captain Kane, but I don't do off-the-record conversations. You understand."

Kane held up a hand. "This concerns the real fate of the Discovery. Not the one that we spoke about in the inquiry."

Martine stopped at that, looking him up and down. The Irishman looked earnest and perhaps a little desperate, but it was still well veiled by the mask of professionalism he had shown on the stand. Finally she nodded. "Very well then. Come into my office."

Kane walked past her into her office. It was plushly decorated - the sky-blue carpet with the Federation's laurel insignia was deep, and fine modernist furniture was placed here and there.

Martine put her ebony briefcase on the walnut desk and leaned against it, folding her arms. "I'm listening, Captain Kane. The truth, if you please."

Kane thought about how to frame it for a moment, then decided to lay all his cards on the table. "Madam Secretary, the Neo-Essentialist movement is alive and well and has infiltrated Starfleet to its highest levels. Worse, these new Neo-Essentialists are being led by none other than Admiral Richard Edgerton."

Martine looked shocked. Of all the things she had anticipated from Captain Kane, especially in light of Commander Crichton’s arrest, this wasn’t one of them. She didn't say anything for a moment, letting the magnitude of his words wash over her. "Are you- "

"I am one hundred per cent certain. So much so that I staked the lives of all the Discovery survivors on it."

Martine sighed and rubbed her temples. She moved behind her desk and sat down. That glass of brandy hadn’t been nearly enough. "Tell me everything."

"You already know about the reason behind the Discovery's mission to the Beta Quadrant," said Kane. "What I didn't tell the Board is what happened there."

"I guessed that you were being less than forthcoming."

"For good reason, as you'll see." Kane took a breath. Reliving it all again wasn't easy. "We found the dessicated corpse of Admiral Edmund Dupree and managed to access the Century's databanks. We found that, nine years ago, the Century made rendezvous with the USS Valhalla, under the command of then-Captain Richard Edgerton. At some point, someone used a command-level access code to vent the Century's atmosphere into space, killing everyone aboard. Edgerton was the only one with a code of that level."

"I'm following you," murmured Martine.

"That's not all. There were dozens of Neo-Essentialists aboard the Discovery, most of them ensconced in the Security and Marine departments. They were being led by Commander Stonn, my First Officer. Once Stonn realised that we knew what had happened in K-60 nine years ago, he activated the Neo-Essentialists and took over the ship. Several people died."

Her face had become ashen. "I see. Go on, Captain."

It was all pouring out of Kane like a waterfall. "Those of us who weren't Neo-Essentialists managed to evacuate to the Century. We got her systems online and fought the Discovery. We won, they lost. But if you think that's bad, there's more. The combat did not result in the destruction of the Discovery, merely crippling her. But Stonn tried to escape, he tried to get back to Federation space before us so he could tell Edgerton that someone out there knew that the Neo-Essentialists were back. I couldn't let that happen."

The implication of what Kane didn't say hung heavy in the air. Martine nodded. "I see."

"We cloaked the Century and took her back here, revealing ourselves in public to protect ourselves against any reprisal from Edgerton. Madame Secretary, I cannot over-emphasise the threat here. Stonn indicated that much of Starfleet's higher echelons were secret Neo-Essentialists, that Admiral Edgerton is their leader, and that they are working towards their original goal - the overthrow of civilian authority and the institution of a military junta in place of the Federation Assembly."

"Good God," murmured Martine. "You mentioned proof from the Century's databanks?"

Kane's face fell. "The Century's databanks were purged during our system restart. The proof was lost with the Discovery. But I am not making this up. There are enough questions surrounding the loss of my ship that should indicate that I was covering something up. You can't be the only one to have noticed Admiral Edgerton's meteoric rise to power. he was the one who recruited me back into Starfleet - he originally intended to turn me and my other senior officers to his cause. Now, we're all practically on the run, wondering when Edgerton will feel enough to have us murdered, just like Bonnie Reardon. You saw how he manipulated Commander Crichton's testimony against him, and now Jake is halfway to New Zealand with a court-martial coming up. On behalf of the Discovery's survivors, I ask you to believe me and to do whatever you can to help us."

Martine was quiet, thinking. Energy spent, Kane slumped against the frame of the door. "I have to go, Madame Secretary," he said. "I have to do whatever I can to help Commander Crichton."

Martine nodded. "Leave it with me, Captain Kane. I need to think." She looked him in the eye. "But for what it's worth, I believe you."

Kane sighed with relief. "That means everything," he said, stepping through the door.

He left behind a very worried woman. Marie-Claire slumped in her seat. Her desire to go home was gone. She understood the entire Board of Inquiry in a new light now. But there was nothing she could do about it, at least directly. The thought of Edgerton being at the core of what was rotten with Starfleet gave her the powerful urge to eviscerate him with a rusted bat’leth. She pounded her bony fist on the desk instead, and yelped in pain at the recoil from the natural wooden structure.

She pulled up her console, shaking her other hand to dissipate the sensation. Her official press release regarding the BoI had already been prepared and was to be released to all the media overnight. But she suddenly realized one particular man would appreciate an early scoop, just as much as she would appreciate someone on the outside.

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Time Index: about an hour later


Aleksey Nikitin entered the familiar luxury of Martine’s office. Only this time the security staff was waiting for him, and escorted him inside with the politeness and fake smiles of protocol.

“Madam Secretary, what a pleasant surprise this is,” he said with a puzzled affection as the door closed behind them.

“Mister Nikitin - Alek. You may not think so after what I’ve said,” she countered, first handing him the chip containing the press release.

“What, no candlelight dinner first?” he joked, then reassessed his position when he saw the seriousness etched into the older woman’s face. “What’s this?”

“It’s a bona fide early notification of the official word from my office regarding the investigation into the USS DISCOVERY and her crew. It’s yours to broadcast or publish first, then share as you see fit. Consider it a kindness, in exchange for your confidentiality.”

“Confidentiality regarding?” the words rang in the air.

“Regarding what I’m about to ask you to do. You’re either going to consider this your lucky day, or you’re going to curse the day you ever propositioned me to give you an exclusive interview.”

“What is it, then?”

“Doctor Bonnie Reardon was one of the crew to make it back home aboard the CENTURY from the aftermath of the DISCOVERY disaster,” MC began, “but she was found dead mere days after their return.”

Alek nodded, remembering the news feed of the somewhat grisly happening. “It’s obvious foul play was involved.”

She took a drink of cold coffee and shuddered. “Plus sûrement. And I have strong reason to believe that the Neo-Essentialists were responsible for her death.”

Nikitin shifted in his seat. He’d heard a few rumblings of Neo-Essentialist activity, but to hear it from the Secretary of Starfleet’s mouth was unnerving, although affirming at the same time.. “Where do I come in?”

“Due to sensitive information I cannot share, I am now certain that Neo-Essentialists have infiltrated the highest ranks in the Federation, and for that reason alone, among many others, my hands are tied. I want you to find her killer or killers *and* the evidence needed to bring them to justice.” She levelled a glance at the affable newsman. “It has to be a package deal.”

Alek’s voice dropped to a more somber, respectful tone. “How soon do you need this?’”

Martine drew a ragged breath, shaking her head of salted sable hair. “Time is of the essence, as usual,” she said to the reporter. “But I don’t think you’re going to find this on our timetable. As far as the rest of the universe is concerned, the only thing we discussed this evening was the press release you’re holding right there.”

“How will I communicate back to you?” He asked plaintively.

“I don’t know that you will be able to… and if you have the good fortune to find what I’m looking for, I would rather have it plastered all over the evening news from here to Omicron Ceti Three, than revealed only here.”

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NRPG: Moving things along... Incidentally, I believe this is my (Jerome) first-evar Furpig JP!


SHAWN: You can start your storyline now!


Susan Ledbetter
Admiral Marie-Claire Martine
Secretary of Starfleet


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Michael Turlogh Kane
A Captain in Starfleet

"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117



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