The Gathering

Posted on Feb 06, 2015 @ 12:07pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Edited on on Feb 06, 2015 @ 12:08pm

Mission: Limbo

"THE GATHERING"

(Continued from "When You're Strange")

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Location: Limbo, a space station in the Hammaker system
Stardate: [2.14]0130.2115
Scene: The Sanctum


Tella Yavin, mistress of a million lost souls, looked idly upward when Kajek said her name. The Sanctum was heaving like a great beast, and the sight of it through the thick transparisteel wall of her private office was most pleasing to her. There were thousands of people here tonight, the ebb and flow of alien bodies rolling like waves while they drank, danced, and fucked one another in as many ways as they could imagine. The dull thud of the digital music beat pounded through the walls, and when the club was full it meant one thing - more and more latinum to fill her coffers. Not only the admittance fees, the alcohol, and the prostitution, but she was also getting a hefty cut of every narcotic sale, whether it was a simple Euphoria pill or all the way up to small bags of white-powdered Crystal.

And beyond the club, her reach extended further. All the beating hearts of Limbo ultimately paid tribute to her. Not a single deal was made on the black markets without her taxes being set aside. Like a empress, she sat in her throne and counted the coin.

Kajek came forward. "Harad-Sar is here to see you. He says he knows a secret that you do not." The huge Nausicaan's blood-red battle armour reflected the neon lights of the dance floor.

Tella Yavin nodded. "Admit him." Another whining visit, no doubt - ever since the Ferengi had moved into Limbo, Harad-Sar's Orion Mercantile Association was declining in power and influence. He had taken to making regular visits to the Sanctum, trying to ingratiate both himself and his organisation with the powers-that-be.

The squabblings of her underlings was only of minor interest to Tella Yavin. Kajek and the Black Stars made her rule possible. Keep them happy, and they made her rule secure. Others had tried to bribe or cajole Kajek into changing sides, and the skulls of those others decorated a dungeon somewhere in the fearsome Nausicaan's penthouse.

No, Tella Yavin mused, whatever Harad-Sar wanted, it was probably not of any interest to her.

She turned around as the bulky Orion entered the office. The music of the club followed him, electronic notes pounding their way into the room like a dozen tentacles holding hammers. His bald green head reflected the neon lights of the club. "Harad-Sar." She smiled maternally.

"Mistress." The Orion bowed stiffly at the waist. He was wearing breeches made of a hideo golden material, and the only thing that covered his upper body was a silk shawn that he had wound around his shoulders and waist, leaving his chest and midriff bare. "I come to see you tonight because I have important news for you. The Orion Mercantile Association gives you this information freely and without expectation of remuneration. All we ask is that you remember our loyalty to you in the future."

"Of course." Tella Yavin sat down at her beautiful antique desk. It was made of a highly-varnished Terran wood named walnut and had come from the office of the ruler of one of their old nation states. Someone had carved graffiti on one of its legs, but she did not know who Nixon was, nor why he felt the need to anounce that he was here by carving his name into the desk. "I will not forget your devotion to me. Speak."

Harad-Sar looked at her square in the eye. "My agents within the United Federation of Planets have learned that a new starship has been launched from the Terran system. It is named Phoenix, and it is the deadliest weapon of war that the Federation has ever launched into the stars."

Tella Yaving sighed. She reached for a bottle of Romulan ale and poured herself a small glass. "Really, Harad-Sar, your hyperbole discredits you. Not a year goes by that a new dreadnought is launched by one of the main powers of the Alpha Quadrant. Each one is trumpeted as being the most powerful in their fleet." She raised the glass to him before sipping the blue liquid. "You really should learn not to be so skittish."

"Mistress, the Phoenix's destination is Limbo. They will arrive in the next twenty-four hours."

That stopped her. Tella Yavin felt the burn of the Romulan ale as it rolled down her throat in a river of fire. "Coming here? Why? Something to do with the conflict now raging around Bolarus?" She watched Harad-Sar intently - could it be the Orion was enjoying this? She had been wrong - this was of much interest, by necessity. The arrival of a powerful Federation starship into the Triangle might force a reaction from the Empire, and if the war was to be fought by proxy here, then that would be very bad for business.

Harad-Sar's voice was the same neutral tone. "There has been a change of government. The Federation Assembly has relinquished control to their military. Starfleet is now in command."

Tella Yavin stood up. "This is unprecedented," she said.

"Yes, mistress."

"This starship - "

"The Phoenix, mistress."

"Yes. Are they coming on behalf of their new government?"

Harad-Sar's eyes gleamed. "No. They are wanted fugitives. I have been unable thus far to learn of their reasons for choosing to come to this space station, but it is possible that they are fleeing the new regime."

Tella Yavin's finger was subconsciously swirling around the top of her glass. "Most interesting. I need to think about this. You will keep me informed, will you not?"

"Of course, Mistress. The Orion Mercantile Association is ready to assist if we can." Harad-Sar bowed again, and retreated from her office.

Tella Yaving didn't see him go, mind whirling with possibilities.

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Location: USS PHOENIX
Scene: Bridge


Michael Turlogh Kane sat back in the centre seat and watched his Executive Officer. In the past five minutes, Aerdan Jos had authorised a course correction to avoid a spatial anomaly, had communicated with Engineering regarding tonight's maintenance on the plasma manifolds, and had made a wry joke about life in Starfleet that had made everyone on the bridge chuckle. Like the best executive officers, he had taken over the running over the ship, leaving the commander as little more than a supervisor awaiting a crisis. Right now, he was standing half-way between Russ and Byte, watching the data streams from both their stations as the Phoenix approached the Hammaker star system.

The ship was in good hands. Just a few hours to Limbo, the place where he was going to die. It wouldn't be long now.

He glanced to his left to where Drake sat looking straight ahead at the starfield. The man's features were as inscrutable as ever, and not for the first time Kane wondered how much Drake wasn't telling them. There were secrets behind those green eyes, true, but there were also many unanswered questions. Drake's claim of being from a possible future had not stood up well to the capricious dance of history - the memroies he had brought back with him were not changing with the times. Edgerton's power play had been made early, the Romulans were pounding Bolarus into dust, and Project Phoenix was running on empty. Drake had foreseen none of these things.

Once again, Kane felt a flash of helpless rage. Drake had been so utterly prophetic in announcing his imminent death on Limbo. For Drake it was a simple footnote in the past, but to Kane, it was increasingly becoming a hideous sword of Damocles waiting to sever the thread of his life.

As if feeling his gaze, Drake turned his head to look at Kane. "Everything alright, Captain?"

"You're from the future. You tell me," said Kane.

Drake lowered his voice so that no-one else could hear. "You must be afraid of what is to come on Limbo, I realise that. But Rawyvin Seth will kill you on Limbo, and there is no altering it. For me, it's history. I was there twenty-eight years from now. I saw the whole thing."

"Too far away to help, were you?" Kane said bitterly.

"I can't give you any details, Captain. Temporal causality. You understand. This time around, your death will spur Selyara into joining us. With her knowledge of the Neo-Essentialists, Starfleet will purge the rot from its own ranks, and Edgerton's coup will be stillborn. Aerdan Jos will lead the crew of the Phoenix into glory. All of them - Crichton, Thytos, Dalziel, BaShen, Varn - they will all surivive the coming conflict, all because one man died on Limbo. Is that not a heartening thought? Does it not give you some courage?"

"An easy thing to say when it's not your throat being cut, Drake. I'm no hero."

"Ah, but you are, Captain. History has remembered you as one, despite your bluster and that angry shell you wear."

Kane shook his head. "You're losing me with every word. You came into our lives spouting off about Peter Aspinall and the Pendragon and a dystopian future. You outlined the whole thing in clear terms. But you can't explain why your memories are not changing with new developments. What about the now, Drake? The Romulans are pounding Bolarus into dust as we speak."

Drake managed to look pained. "Ah, the Romulans. They are the great variable, aren't they?" He raised an eyebrow, lips widening as he thought of something. "But tell me something, Captain. If you are harbouring any doubts as to whether or not this course is the right one, then why don't you turn us around?"

Kane looked away from Drake's growing smile. He had no answer.

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Location: IRV Akhmogai ("Warhawk")
Scene: Bridge


"Apporaching the Hammaker system, Admiral," came the report from her pilot.

Delora Radaik did not look up immediately. Never let a subordinate know that you were anxious to hear anything they had to say. She counted to three in her head, then stood up, assuming a bored, businesslike air. "Acknowledged. Hail the Limbo space station when in range, and request shore leave privileges for our shipmates."

Her executive officer, approached her. "And if they ask our business?"

Delora shrugged. "Invent any reason you desire." She turned to face the corner of the bridge, near the turbolift door. Standing there like a ramrod was one of the most physically imposing Romulans she had ever seen. He was built like an akaana boar, with square shoulders and a neck as thick as her thigh. His black hair was close-cropped to his head, and his high cheekbones sat just underneath ash-gray eyes. He looked like he had been carved out of stone.

She addressed him formally. "Commander Merak, are your commandos prepared?"

He stepped forward. When he had come aboard, Delora had been duly impressed. The Imperial legions were a fine fighting force, but their special forces were truly elite. Every man and woman that served in them knew they were likely to die in service, because they were only deployed for missions where the conditions were victory or death in battle. Merak's squad of a dozen hand-picked commandos were here for one reason and one reason only - to seize one of the most dangerous quarries ever hunted by the Empire, a quarry that was due to arrive aboard Limbo any day now. While Admiral Radaik moved to counter whatever steps the Phoenix was making in this system, Merak's troops would be infiltrating the station in an effort to locate their quarry.

As the Terrans said, they would be killing two avians with one missile.

Merak bowed at the neck. "We are always prepared to serve, Admiral." Around the bridge, Delora sensed her bridge officers bristle with pride. Truly, Merak was an exceptional Romulan.

On the main viewer, the starfield coalesced, solidifying into a black velvet cloth speckled with pin-prinks of light. In the distance, the yellow light of the Hammaker sun filtered across space, illuminating an asteroid field that orbited a long spherical space station.

Behind her, the bridge Tal'Shiar agent led them in the moral chant of the Imperial Romulan Navy. "What is our duty?"

"That we obey the will of the People!"

"What is the will of the People?"

Delora nodded to Merak. He would accomplish his mission or die trying, she knew it. She watched him answer the chant meaningfully. "That we fight and die!"

"What is death?"

Delora Radaik felt the tingle on her skin as the Warhawk decloaked, imposing its presence on realspace. Nine hundred Romulans aboard one advanced Valdore-class warbird had come to the Triangle. She shouted the last line of thew moral chant along with her crew.

"It is our duty!"

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Location: USS PHOENIX
Scene: Conference Room


Kane watched the senior officers of the Phoenix assembled and took their seats around the conference table. It had been a long voyage, he knew, and the faces that were around him still bore the hallmarks of worried uncertainty. Everything they knew was gone. They had no home any longer, fugitives from a fascist organisation that had overthrown the ideals they had sworn to serve and uphold. No more utopia, now dystopia.

He ran his thumb along his rank pips. They seemed tarnished now, their lustre dead and gone. None of them had their commissions any longer.

Why then, he wondered, do we still wear the uniforms?

He nodded to Aerdan to begin the meeting. The Andorian distributed PADDs around the table. "We'll be arriving at the Hammaker system within the hour. We'll be requesting shore leave there, but we won't be telling them the real reason for our arrival. If you check your PADDs, you'll see several likenesses of the woman we are here to find. Her name is Selyara. She is a former Starfleet officer, reaching the rank of Captain before being convicted of treason. She spent ten years in prison on Jaros II before escaping early last year."

Everyone switched on their PADDs and looked down through the pictures.

"Selyara is a mixed-race Vulcan and Betazoid," continued Aerdan. "She has formidable powers of the mind. Not only is she naturally empathetic, but she is able to use Vulcan mental disciplines to a high level. Treat her as very dangerous."

Kane listened impassively. Wheels within wheels, all turning in great circles. Now, after almost fifteen years, he was seeking Selyara out once again. They had served together on the Century and the Discovery, and they had come as close as two people could without ever declaring their feelings to one another. On the day she had left the Discovery to take up a new assignment aboard the Patriot, he had felt a great hole open in his soul.

"You know her, don't you Captain?" asked Eve Dalziel. "You served together."

Kane nodded slowly, avoiding Eve's eyes.

"Anything more you can tell us about her?" she asked.

Kane looked up at them all. "Don't let her touch you."

There was a moment of uncertainty before Aerdan interjected smoothly. "What Captain Kane means is that Selyara's mental powers are reliant on physical contact with her subjects. She is capable of delivering potentially deadly damage to the nervous systems of those she comes into contact with, not to mention her ability to override the will of others and strip information directly from their minds."

Drake leaned forward. "It is this latter ability we are most interested in," he said. "Since her escape from Jaros, Selyara has been accumulating information on the Neo-Essentialists. At this point in history, she knows the identities of almost all senior Neo-Essentialists within Starfleet. She knows ship names, facility locations, sympathetic politicians. She knows everything that will help Starfleet purge this rot from its ranks. Believe me when I say that securing Selyara will make the restoration of the Federation inevitable."

Everyone looked at each other with new hope.

"There is a snag," continued Drake. "A man named Rawyvin Seth is also aboard Limbo, seeking out Selyara. Rawyvin Seth is one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. He is a sadistic killer for hire who alternately works as a mercenary or assassin. He has been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocent people, is extremely intelligent, narcissistic, and physically dangerous."

"Rawyvin Seth is wanted by both the Federation and the Romulans," said Aerdan. "He has prior history with both fleets, and may be travelling with a former Starfleet officer named Evangeline Montoya. If you encounter Rawyvin Seth aboard the station, call for backup immediately. I need to emphasise this - you stand no chance against him alone. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

"We're all going aboard the station then?" asked Jake.

"I will remain aboard the Phoenix for the time being," said Kane, choosing his words carefully. "But it's likely that I will need to leave the ship in order to persuade Selyara to join us."

"Shore leave will also be extended to our civilians," said Aerdan, "but understand that we are all on the clock. We must find this woman before Rawyvin Seth does. That's primary. Do some legwork, follow leads, track her down, but don't let the local authorities catch on to what we're doing. If they get it on the act, the whole thing could turn into a total mess."

"Remain in contact with each other and the ship," said Kane. "Limbo is an enormous place. Form into your own away teams, take your friends and families aboard if you think it will help. Stay out of trouble. If you can find some people who you think might make a good addition to the crew, bring them back. We can certainly use the help. Any questions?"

There were none.

Kane nodded. "Let's get going," he said, watching them all rise from their seats. Imminent arrival.

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Location: Limbo, small docking bay
Scene: Warpshuttle interior


When the engines powered down, their hum receding into the background rumble of the enormous space station, Rawyvin Seth turned to Evangeline Montoya, a sly smile splitting his face. "We made it, my dear. I told you we'd make it."

Montoya nodded. "You did. What now?"

"Now?" Rawyvin Seth spread his arms wide. Outside the shuttle, the docking bay was filled with hundreds of people. Engineers, civilians, passengers and pirates alike all milled around, an enormous web of intersecting lives. "Now I do what I do best. We find Selyara, we bring her back, we get paid."

"We? I thought there was only you."

Rawyvin stood up, reached out and cradled Montoya's heads in his hands. Like rainwater, they trickled down to her throat, holding her steady. A quick push, a sudden pull, and Evangeline Montoya's neck would snap like a twig. She breathed in shock as he own mortality reared in front of her face, but Rawyvin's voice was soft. "I can't do this without you, my dear. Come with me, won't you? Otherwise, I will have to leave you here." He smiled a smile of blades in an alley.

Montoya tried to nod, but couldn't moved. She used her eyes to blink assent, and the hands came away from her throat.

Rawyvin held out a gentlemanly hand. "After you."

The shuttle door opened and they went out into a new world.

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NRPG: Welcome to Limbo (although the Furpig got there ahead of us about two months ago, har har!). You all have the Limbo sourcebook, so make use of it. It is a giant sandbox in space. Make use of it as you see fit.


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX

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

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