Meetings

Posted on Mar 03, 2015 @ 7:25pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Edited on on Mar 03, 2015 @ 7:25pm

Mission: Limbo

"MEETINGS"

(Continued from "Making Money")

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Captain's Log, Supplemental - The Phoenix remains docked at the Limbo space station, a fugitive from the collapsing Federation. We have had no news regarding the coup on Earth, or how the siege of Bolarus is going. In the meantime, our away teams are spreading through the station trying to locate Selyara, but none have reported any progress...

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Location: LIMBO
Stardate: [2.150303.2300
Scene: Outside the Sanctum


Eve Dalziel and Xana Bonviva stopped outside the Sanctum and cast four critical eyes over its exterior. Tightly leashed beside them, Angus kept his wide eyes on the myriad of aliens that passed by, basking in the occasional pat on the head that Xana gave him.

There was a polished carpet of platinum leading into the Sanctum. Speckled along that carpet were flecks of golden latinum, glinting in the glow of the neon lights from overhead. Some bouncers were working the entrance, and a Black Stars patrol loitered nearby with their weapons fully loaded. From behind the mirrored entrance doors came the regular pulse-pounding beat of electronic music.

"This looks like a worthwhile place for Ladies Night," winked Eve. She looked at Angus. "I doubt they allow animals, though."

"He goes where I go," said Xana, unbottoning the top of her jumpsuit to reveal a hint of cleavage. "Besides, we won't know until we ask. Watch this."

There was a line of aliens waiting to get in, but Xana sidled up to the nearest bouncer, a massive Cardassian man who looked like a walking cube of muscle with a stun-club at his waist. He stopped her immediately, and eyed Angus warily.

"A Bolian," he said nastily. "I thought you were all fat blue dwarfs."

"Not all of us," Xana purred, turning on the charm. "Bolian females are renowned for their skills at pleas - "

"Get lost, grandma," snapped the Cardassian, holding up a grey hand. "Young people only. No oversexed geriatrics."

Xana's jaw dropped open and her retort spilled silently onto the deck-plating. Her hand involuntarily jerked on Angus's leash, half-choking the dog, but still no words came.

Eve slid in quickly. "Don't be a moob," she said. "We were just - "

The Cardassian's hand dropped. "Oh, you're fine," he said lasciviously. "Join the line and you can get in. Not your grandmother, though."

Eve looked quickly at Xana, seeing the red rage beginning to descend on the blue Bolian woman. Xana's cheeks were flushing purple as her ire was roused. If there had a been a big red button nearby marked KILL EVERYTHING, Xana would have been using the bouncer's face to pound on it while screaming obscenities at him, his parents, his homeworld, and probably his entire species.

"Is that a German Shepherd?"

Eve and Xana both turned around to see an older male Human approaching them. He was clean-shaven with gaying hair, and carried himself well despite being a little plump. He was dressed impeccably in a magnificent black silk suit and shining leather shoes. His shirt was open at the neck, and a thin latinum necklace hung around his neck, topped off with a tasteful Spican flame-gem. Several flunkies stood behind him, looking on.

The man dropped his hand for Angus to sniff at, then leaned down and started scratching behind the dog's ears. "I haven't seen an Earth dog for a long time, so I'm a little rusty on the breeds," he said, speaking in a refined North American accent. "What's his name?"

"Angus," said Xana, feeling a little betrayed as the dog closed its eyes and blissed out. "We were hoping to get into the club, but they said no animals. Or old people," she added bitterly.

The man stood up. "Bullshit." He looked at the Cardassian with an air of authority. "These two ladies and their pet animal are my guests. Understood?"

The Cardassian bouncer backed off immediately. "Yes, sir," he nodded, retreating away from the door.

The man extended his arms. "What do you think, ladies? I'd love to have a beautiful woman on each arm. Is it a date?"

Eve wasn't sure what to do, but Xana linked her arms with one of his. "We'd be delighted," she said, giving the bouncer a look of death. "May I ask who our escort is this evening?"

The man smiled. "My name is Willis Baker."

"I'm Xana, and this is Eve. We're pleased to meet you, Mister Baker. Just answer me one question - how old do you think I am?"

Together, the four of them walked down the polished platinum carpet and into the Sanctum.

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Scene: The Forum


Russ and Jake were lying in wait for the pair of Klingons they had scoped a short time earlier. The two burly figures had stopped at a small armoury and were waiting while their metleths were being sharpened. That didn't mean they were unarmed, though - both of them carried a disruptor on his hip.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Russ. "They look kind of tough. If they're real pirates, won't they have no qualms about killing us right here right now?"

Jake rubbed his chin, knowing Russ had a point. Neither of them had been trained for any sort of combat beyond Starfleet's how-to-work-a-phaser and basic unarmed combat. That was not true for Klingons in general. Thanks to their cut-throat internecine politics coupled with a drive to conquer, Klingons spent most of their lives ready for combat.

"Maybe you're right," he said. "They do look tough. Maybe we should - "

It might have been luck, or fate, but at that moment one of the Klingons caught his eye through the crowd. Quickly realising that they were being watched, the two Klingons slapped their hands on their disruptors and made their way towards the two Humans.

"Let's get out of here!" hissed Russ.

It was too late. The Klingons were on them like dogs on rats. Up close, they were even more intimidating - both of them were wearing standard Klingon chain-mail armour, devoid of ornamentation, and their knuckle-dusters were tipped with dangerous-looking spikes.

One of the Klingons - a huge, swarthy specimen with a neck corded in muscle and a terrifyingly jagged forehead, leaned over the two Humans like a cat surveying a pair of tasty mice. "What do you want, Humans?" he snarled.

"We don't want anything!" exclaimed Russ. "We were just leaving."

"You weaklings were spying on us!" snapped the other, a vicious-looking man with a set of teeth that were filed down into points.

"No!" protested Russ.

"And now you lie to compound your shame!" bellowed the first, his mane of black hair falling around his face like a curtain. "You will tell us who you are and what you want, or your guts will be spilled all over this floor!"

Jake stepped forward. He gestured to the first Klingon's right shoulder. "We did not mean to cause offence," he said, squaring his shoulders. "I saw you through the crowd and thought you were someone of my acquaintance, that's all. But I see you are not wearing the insignia of his or any other House. That is how I know you are a pair of discommoded Ha'DIbaH!"

The second Klingon gasped in outrage and made to draw his disruptor, but the first slapped a hand into his friend's chest, staring at Jake in curiosity. "What do you know of Klingon culture, weakling?"

Jake silently blessed his Academy instructors. No combat training could replace the Starfleet requirement in xenocultural studies. "I know your people to be honourable," he said evenly. "I am being honourable now when I tell you that this is simply a case of mistaken identity." The lie came easily.

The Klingon looked impressed at the mention of honour. "You are correct," he rumbled, inclining his shaggy head. "We do not wear the insignia of any House, but we are not discommoded no-names. We are the younger brothers of Kalenda the Black, a weapons merchant here on this space station."

"A Klingon merchant? Female?" asked Russ.

The second Klingon holstered his disruptor. "She is a... strong woman," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She is our sister, and our mistress."

Jake and Russ exchanged glances.

"My friend and I may be in the market for new weapons," said Jake. "Do you think you could take us to your sister?"

The first Klingon looked him over, then shrugged. "Come. I will bring you to her."

The two Klingons led on, and Jake and Russ fell into line behind them.

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Location: USS PHOENIX
Scene: Bridge


{{We are being hailed, Captain,}} announced Byte. {{It is from the office of one Tella Yavin, the administrator of Limbo.}}

Michael Turlogh Kane looked up from the centre seat. "Still nothing from any of the away teams?"

{{No, sir.}}

Kane frowned. Progress was slow, but that was to be expected on a space station of over a million souls. To be honest, he had half-hoped to lie unnoticed by either the Romulans or Limbo's powers-that-be, but that was always going to be a long shot. And anyway, it wasn't like he was going to be alive much longer. "Put it through, Lieutenant."

The main viewer winked away from its view of the docking umbilical, to be replaced with a view of the interior of a luxurious office. A long couch flanked one wall, and opposite it was a bank of monitors underlit by flickering multi-coloured computer touch-screens. An antique wooden desk faced the screen, and by it were two aliens patriently waiting on the connection to go through.

Tella Yavin was a dark-skinned female Romulan entering middle age. She was dressed in a plain black business suit, and her hair was tied behind her head in a pony-tail that made her pointed ears stand out. She was wearing minimal make-up, but a personal shield generator was clearly visible hanging at her throat like a necklace.

The other person on the screen was an enormous male Nausicaan. His thick black hair was greying around his cragged face, and he was clad in intimidating blood-red armour, with a long-bladed curved knife and disruptor at his waist. He was standing a little behind Tella Yavin with his arms folded across his chest, easily towering two feet above her.

Kane stood up, conscious at the sparsity of hands on the Phoenix's bridge. "I am Captain Michael Turlogh Kane of the starship Phoenix."

Tella Yavin smiled slightly, a quick movement of her lips that gave nothing away. {{Tella Yavin, administrator of the Limbo space station. This is Kajek, head of my security forces.}} She indicated the Nausicaan.

Kane inclined his head. "The Phoenix is availing of Limbo's free port, Administrator," he said as evenly as he could. "Most of my crew are enjoying the hospitality of your station. What can I do for you?"

{{I regret that it has taken me this long to make personal contact with you, Captain Kane,}} said Tella Yavin. {{But when I learned that the Federation had dispatched a starship to the Triangle I became somewhat concerned and decided that I would like to speak to you myself.}}

"What is the reason for your concern, Administrator?"

{{Come now, Captain. News has reached the Triangle of the launch of the most powerful warship in Federation history. Your voyage here has drawn the attention of of not only myself, but of our neighbours in the Romulan Star Empire. To be blunt, Captain, my concern is that the Federation seeks to open a second front in its current war against the Empire.}}

Kane shook his head, unsure of what Tella Yavin was moving towards. Surely she was not ignorant of what was happening on Earth? "Your concern is unwarranted. The Phoenix is not representing the Federation. We are here on our own recognisance."

Tella Yavin smiled. {{Thank you for your honesty, Captain Kane. Then you are here as fugitives?}}

"Let us say that we are here to gather our thoughts in a place we are unlikely to be disturbed."

Tella Yavin chuckled. {{If that is the case, then you have made a miscalculation in coming here,}} she said knowingly. {{You may or may not know that the Empire dispatched their own warship here in response to your arrival. She is known as War Hawk, and is commanded by an Admiral who has never been defeated in naval combat.}}

Kane glanced at Byte."Thank you for the information. We'll be careful."

{{You will have no need to be careful, Captain Kane,}} said Tella Yavin in a forceful voice. {{I am the law on Limbo, and my will is exercised by the Black Stars. In the interest of galactic peace, I would like to invite you to a conference here in the Sanctum. It will be a safe place to meet Admiral Radaik, and to convince her that you are not here to make war. What do you say?}}

Kane cut his own throat with a thumb.

Byte silenced the volume on the frequency. {{Mute, Captain.}}

"Byte, what do we know about the War Hawk and this Admiral Radaik?"

The gray-skinned android seemed to turn his focus inward. {{Accessing. Admiral Delora Radaik is the victor of the Battle of Prygus, a naval engagement between the Romulan and Klingon Empires eight years ago. She has risen through the ranks impressively quickly, and is considered by many to be in line for a senatorial career. Romulan propaganda accentuates both her skill as a naval commander and her complete adherence to the Romulan Way.}}

"Understood. And her flagship?"

{{There are almost no details regarding the War Hawk, sir. It is a B-type Valdore-class battleship, less than a decade old. It is assumed to possess upgraded shields and weapons, with a crew complement of over one thousand Romulans.}}

"Threat assessment?"

Byte looked mournful. {{We do not have sufficient hands to run the Phoenix at maximum efficiency, Captain. A battle between the War Hawk and the Phoenix would be short and very one-sided, despite our superior tactical systems.}}

"Very well, Mister Byte. Channel open." Kane turned back to the screen where Tella Yavin and Kajek were waiting for him. He split his features with a smile. "I would be delighted to accept your gracious invitation, Administrator."

{{Splendid!}} beamed Tella Yavin. {{Let us say one standard hour? I will send Kajek to escort you to the Sanctum.}}

"I'll be ready for him. One hour, then," said Kane. "Phoenix out."

The screen reverted to the view of the umbilical. Kane exhaled. So, it was here- the time when he left the ship and took a step closer to Rawyvin Seth's knife.
[[Sickbay to bridge.]]

Kane lifted his head. "Go ahead, Doctor Foster."

Cade's voice sounded a little on edge. [[Captain, I've completed my analysis of Commander Drake's transporter bio-records. I need to present my findings to you as a matter of urgency.]]

Kane and Byte exchanged glances. "In my ready room, right now," said Kane, moving across the bridge.

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NRPG: Moving things along...


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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