Hallelujah
Posted on Sep 01, 2015 @ 1:07am by Captain Siobhan Reardon
Edited on on Sep 01, 2015 @ 1:07am
Mission: Civil War
“Hallelujah”
(Continued from “Aftermath”)
=/\=
Maybe I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
-Leonard Cohen, “Hallelujah” (sung by Rufus Wainwright)
=/\=
Location: USS ZHUKOV
SD: 2.150722.2116
Scene: CO’s Ready Room
The smell of exploded dirt and vaporized particulate from the planet’s surface had been ground into Captain Reardon’s uniform, but she hadn’t noticed it while being surrounded by it on the planet. Now, it buried her. She cleared her throat, trying to desensitize herself, trying to decide what was next.
“Coffee. Double everything,” Siobhan griped at the replicator. She was overwhelmed with feelings, the greatest of which was pain; it was both physical and emotional. As she grasped the cup of hot taupe liquid, she could only hope for a small bit of comfort as the situation deteriorated around her.
Sitting behind her desk, she took the biggest gulp of coffee she could without burning her tongue. “Play transmission.”
To her surprise, it wasn’t a video or audio transmission. It was simple text. It had all the hallmarks of a communiqué from Starfleet Command, but without the fanfare.
***
By the order of Admiral Richard Edgerton, Acting President of the United Federation of Planets, the crew of the USS ZHUKOV, NCC-916, under the command of Captain Siobhan Rose Reardon, are hereby stripped of all titles and privileges therein and are hereby formally charged with high treason and other crimes, as yet to be determined, against the Federation and Starfleet.
All active vessels have been ordered to capture the ship and her crew at any cost, so that those involved may be held responsible for these transgressions. This will be your sole warning.
***
Her face flushed in a raged embarrassment. The redhead read it a second time, as her left fist clenched. The sanctimonious ass didn’t even have the courtesy or the courage to seal their fate face to face.
He had dismissed them with the equivalent of a form letter.
=/\=
Scene: Reardon’s Quarters
Time Index: 15 minutes later
Sio crossed the threshhold, prepared to call out for her son, but he was waiting in the living area. She noticed his schoolwork was laying off to the side; some of it was even done. “Mom?” he kind of sprang up, stood, and hugged her. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.” Her original intent was to grab a shower and change uniforms, but she found herself flopping in the nearest chair.
“What’s wrong?” Drey asked, pushing his brown bangs off of his forehead, his bright green eyes strangely complimented by the pale sage color of his skin. The half Supai child aged almost three times faster than a human, so in the time they had been aboard the ship it felt and looked as if he were a year older. There was very little left of the boy she had discovered as her child a few years earlier, and much more of the young man he was becoming. In fact, he was about eighteen years old in human terms. He was an adult for all intents and purposes. She struggled with that truth, but knowing he had to be empowered and encouraged to take that responsibility for himself, now more than ever.
“I have to deliver really bad news in a little less than an hour. Got any pointers?” She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“How bad is it?”
She sighed and raised her head, peering at him. “Starfleet’s been taken over by the Neo-Essentialists, and we’ve been made outlaws and scapegoats. The rest of the fleet has been ordered to take us down, that is if they can find us.”
“Like the PHOENIX?”
“I don’t know. But the end result is the same.” She couldn’t begin to speculate the backstory of the other ship or how much they had known.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Hell if I know… are you keeping up with your martial arts training?”
There was a pause. “Sorta.”
Her disappointment was palpable. “I can’t make you do something you don’t want to. But do you understand the need to protect yourself? We’re at war here and I know I won’t be able to choose where I am or what I’m doing at any particular time.”
Drey laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t strain something by jumping to conclusions so fast. I just meant I came up with my own program. I found one based on Krav Maga and did some modifications.”
“Oh... I’m sorry.” She went back to her original position; head rested, eyes closed.
“No. I can see your day hasn’t been… well, the best.”
Sio didn’t even lift her head. “Your use of hyperbole is stunning.”
“At least I got you to smile a little.”
“I didn’t notice I was smiling,” she said grumpily, eyes still closed.
=/\=
Scene: Conference Room
Time Index: about 45 minutes later
Siobhan eyed the group flatly. Most of the senior staff weren’t much more than acquaintances to her, and she had to convey information she herself didn’t want to admit. But it had to be done. With a glance to her left at the ExO, she began. “There has been a military takeover of Starfleet, courtesy of a Neo-Essentialist coup. Our mission to the Trill homeworld was a front, used to perpetuate their interests as well as the interests of one Admiral Richard Edgerton, who appears to be their leader. When the USS SUMTER tipped us off, the crews of both vessels were declared criminals against Starfleet and the Federation at large.”
The room was uncomfortably silent for a few moments until the Ktarian OPS officer spoke. “What’s our next move?”
Sio nodded to Commander Naamah; it wasn’t the first time she’d appreciated the catlike woman’s outspoken nature. “I have a meeting with Captain Kinderman later today, at which time I will have more details. I know we’re heading for a staging area for the resistance movement, so we can coordinate resources. Speaking of resources, I want each department head to review your staff in detail, identifying secondary skills or talents that might be pulled upon in the event of combat situations. Any experience in Security or Tactical, Medical support, Engineering, or Flight Control will be the most useful.”
“Captain?” An authoritative male asked, his voice laced with a hint of Virginia twang.
“Yes, Doctor?”
Lieutenant Commander Sloan, the CMO, continued. “Do you have a plan for conscientious objectors?”
Siobhan felt like she had been punched in the stomach. The Trill/Human second in command chimed in before she had a chance to respond.
“Come on, Marc,” Commander Britt said sharply. “It’s not like we can drop them off at the nearest station.”
“We can’t lock them up either,” Summer Naamah reasoned. “We need everyone working together to keep the ship functional.”
“There’s no more chain of command,” Sloan said pointedly. “We’re not officers anymore. Why should they be following the orders of a figurehead?”
“Because that’s *all we have*,” Reardon countered. “Just because these pips aren’t worth the metal they’re made of right now does not mean we can degenerate into chaos. And just because we’re on the wrong side of this battle, does not mean we aren’t on the right side of history. Can you imagine the waste, if, no, *when* the Neo-Essentialists are defeated, and we have a Starfleet to go back to, only to have given it all up? Only to be unfit for the next challenge? It’s clear that they’ve thrown our lives away. It doesn’t mean we have to.”
The CMO stood firm. “You haven’t answered the question.”
Sio mulled over the options, steepling her fingers. “Report any dissenters to Lieutenant Nixxt, along with Commander Britt and myself,” she said, including the Bolian Cns. We’ll handle each one on a case by case basis. Does that work?” Her voice was pleasant; her facial expression not.
Doctor Sloan’s glare softened. “Thank you, Captain.”
=/\=
Location: USS SUMTER
Scene: Conference Room
Time Index: about 3 hours later
Drake had given his best explanation regarding the version of the present they were experiencing now. It was a riddle wrapped in an enigma. First, there was the admission that the actions taken in trying to inform, warn, and enlist help may have altered the timeline that had unfolded. Then, there was the revelation that Drake was a clone, one of several, and that the information they had received was passed down from the original, not actually shared in memory. It was like playing a game of temporal telephone. Drake’s intentions seemed honest, but there was still the feeling of being screwed with on an epic scale. And frankly, everyone’s tolerance had been pushed to the limit.
Siobhan Reardon and Sylvester Kinderman were the only two left in the modest meeting room of the SUMTER. Between them there were a couple of pints of honeyed ale and a bowl of peanuts. The knot in Sio’s stomach didn’t seem particularly yielding to food, but it was surprising how much she’d managed to take in once the idea had presented itself.
“This is my fault.”
The older man shook his head. “No, Lass. This isn’t about you. You’re just a pawn. The likes of Edgerton don’t care who they have to step on to get where they want.”
“That’s not helping, Sly, although I appreciate it.”
“You have enough responsibilities without taking on the entire Neo-Essentialist movement. Don’t even think about putting that on yourself.”
“All of us are in danger,” she said and her voice trailed off, as she downed the rest of her glass. “If some enterprising people decide to go for target practice, we’ve got a fine one painted on us now.”
Sly grabbed the two mugs and went over to the replicator. “Being controlled by Edgerton and his men isn’t a walk in the park, I’m certain of that. More like a walk on the plank.” He laughed heartily at his own humor, but the redhead wasn’t biting.
“How can a person have such an intense hatred for someone they’ve never met?” She said, her jaw set defiantly.
Kinderman brought back some fresh beers. “Darlin’, hatred would require more thought than he has in his head. It’s all about power and vision to him.”
She looked up at the erstwhile Pirate Captain. “I’m not talking about Edgerton. I’m talking about me. I *hate* him. With everything I am. If I could crush him in my bare hands, I would.”
“Revenge is a poor motivator and an even worse master.”
“Spare me the platitudes.” Her voice scathed. “Our careers have just been erased. Gone. I made a lot of sacrifices for the center seat. I wasn’t always sure it was worth it. An ex-husband, no children... until I was blessed with finding out about Drey. But at the end of the day I told myself it was the right thing, for the sense of pride that I had in what I did. For the chance to stop injustices. And even when the Locusta made a similar threat years ago, I could tell myself it was an alien race who didn’t understand us, who couldn’t possibly-”
“Now it’s the wolf who comes to us in sheep’s clothing.”
She set the fresh ale down, sloppily spilling some on the table, then stood, trying to stretch the weariness out of her athletic frame. “It’s coming from our own people, Sly… who needs enemies when we have more than enough in our own ranks.”
“They’re out in the open now. There’s not much left they can hide behind. We may be down, but we’re not out. Once we get to Elandipole-”
“The hard work will truly begin,” she sighed.
“But we’ll be among friends.”
“More like thrown together like a bunch of lost souls. The only thing we have in common is that we’re on the same side.”
“Milady, tis not the time to lose heart.”
She levelled a gaze at him that was laced with disillusion. “If that’s what Starfleet is to become, I’m glad they cast me aside. I’m grateful as hell that I’ll never have to kiss the scrawny ass of that son of a bitch!” She sounded shrill and raspy, pointing for emphasis.
Kinderman gently grasped Sio’s shoulders. Her eyes were bright emerald, cheeks flushed. ”It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she insisted.
His touch was soft, but it did not waver. The ghost of a smile crinkled his eyes. “It’s gonna be okay, hun. You’re safe with me.”
“No,” she breathed. She lifted her arms to push away, but couldn’t finish the movement. The rage, the misplaced guilt, the confusion, and the facade of indifference against the events of the day finished crumbling away like a renaissance fresco in an Italian chapel… beautiful, delicate, and sad. She collapsed in his arms, leaning on his shoulder, first crying, then sobbing.
Sylvester stroked her coppery hair. What he wouldn’t have given to fight windmills for her this time… for all of them. “Aye sweet girl, let it out.”
“No,” she said in protest between shuddering cries, her voice muffled in the man’s jacket.
Sly laughed gently. He kindly regarded the woman he thought of as a surrogate daughter. “You’re as stubborn as the sea is rough in a storm. But eventually we all have to find a port.”
Sio looked up at him through misty eyes. “But I’ve always thought you as the master of a sinister Pirate vessel, playing by no one’s rules but your own.”
Kinderman hugged her, still chuckling. “Child, think of me as your safe harbor, for as long as I can be.”
=/\=
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
=/\=
Susan Ledbetter
Writing for
Captain Siobhan Reardon
USS ZHUKOV
