Safe Harbour

Posted on Sep 07, 2015 @ 10:29pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Civil War

"SAFE HARBOUR"

(Continued from "Civilians")

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Location: USS Phoenix, approaching the Elandipole system
Stardate: [2.15]0910.0230
Scene: Captain's Ready Room


Michael Turlogh Kane deactivated his desktop computer and looked up at the sound of the door chime. "Come."

Jake Crichton had responded quickly to Kane's summons. The Chief Engineer looked tired - his brown hair was unkempt and there were red rings under his yes. He was not wearing his uniform, having eschewed it for a pair of yellow overalls that looked like they were seeing a lot of action. There were small nicks and cuts across the knuckles of his right hand.

Kane felt bad for him, particularly in light of what he was about to say. Of all the engineering crew, Jake Crichton had led the way in the restoration of the ship's systems following the riot. He gave himself the most tedious, time-consuming assignments, took an almost fanatical attitude to making sure that each repaired system was working perfectly before being integrated into the ships' systems, and did all that whole managing several work crews that were active twenty-four hours a day. It was a crime that Starfleet did not often select engineers for command roles, but Kane could understand why. When a captain had an engineer like Jake Crichton helming that department, you never wanted to lose him.

"Reporting as ordered, Captain," said Jake, standing at attention. Saluting was outmoded in Starfleet, but there was often an incline of the head or some other small gesture to acknowledge the higher rank. Back in the Academy, old Commander Winters had a saying - "we defer to the rank, not the man" - as a way of explaining that, whatever your personal feelings towards a superior officer, it was everyone's duty to respect the chain of command. Kane felt a bit like that now, but there was no turning back now.

"Thank you, Commander," he said in what he hoped was a friendly fashion. "Sit down, please, I have something I want to talk to you about." Jake did as he was bid, and Kane paused a moment before continuing. "It's about what happened in Engineering the other day, in the moments when we were listening to Embry and Selyara in the battle bridge. The argument."

"With Mister Barnes - I mean, Barton?" Jake frowned. Like everyone else on the ship, he has having to get used to calling a familiar face by a new name.

"That's the one," Kane said. "That man is a disruptive influence, for sure, but as he's a civilian I can't really remonstrate with his lack of discipline. That is not the case with you." Seeing some measure of alarm in Jake's eyes, he hurriedly added, "I'm not trying to worry you, Mister Crichton. It's been a trying time for us all since we left Earth. Tempers were frayed on all sides. In the future, let's be aware of the fraying so it doesn't cause any problems"

Jake nodded. "Yes, sir."

"It's critical that the command crew be as united as possible if we are continue as we are," said Kane. He leaned forward, aware of a weariness creeping into him. "Trying to be Starfleet when we're not, acting like the Phoenix is ours when she's not - these things pile up, don't they?"

"Yes, sir."

It seemed to be the only line Jake had. Kane tried a different tack. "You personally have done tremendous work, Mister Crichton. We'd all be dead several times over if it wasn't for you. If we had an operating authority, I'd press them to give you your own ship. You deserve it."

"Yes, sir. Permission to speak freely?"

Kane leaned back in his seat. He dreaded that question, would preferred to have answered "no" every time. In his experience, it was always the harbinger of awkwardness. "Alright."

"I've been thinking a lot, Captain," said Jake. "About Solomon Arn, about Thomas Varn."

The names of the two dead officers open a pang in Kane's heart. The dead Trill scientist, his exsanguinated corpse probably dumped unceremoniously into the recycle tanks on Limbo, and Thomas Varn, his irradiated, roasted shell languishing in the morgue. And before them, the officers and crew of the Discovery. "Yes?" he said.

Jake opened his hands into a ball, like he was trying to encompass a tiny world between them. "Has it been worth it, Captain? Will it continue to be worth it? All this, I mean?"

Kane shook his head in some confusion. " I don't under - "

"We're arriving at Elandipole within the hour, right? Now we're going to find out if everything that Drake told us is true. Everything on this ship has sacrificed something to get us this far - family, friends, their whole lives. For the sake of everyone and everything we've lost to get here, I really hope it is."

Kane had no answer. He sighed inwardly. "Dismissed, Commander." Jake departed, and Kane sank again into introspection. The engineer was right - with arrival at Elandipole looming, the entire crew of the Phoenix were about to find out if the past eighteen months were worth it.

Kane recalled the day he met Richard Edgerton in the Earthrise Hotel on Luna. The scheming Neo-Essentialist admiral had called Kane out of an aimless retirement to command the Discovery's mission to system K-60, to cover up the murder of the previous Neo-Essentialist leader and to destroy the Century. Had he not turned a blind eye to Stonn's plotting, there might never have been any violence. The Neo-Essentialist takeover would have been quiet and civilised, Project Phoenix would never have seen the light of day, and perhaps Kane and everyone else would now be enjoying positions of influence in the new regime. Instead, there was a civil war brewing, a conflict that was going to change the balance of power in the quadrant, and not for the better.

Had the Federation reached its apogee? Was shrinkage and collapse all that remained to do? Maybe the Neo-Essentialists were right - maybe a democratic, socialist utopia was inherently doomed, that pure, simple survival depended on greed, aggression and the glorification of the military - but surely that was what was being tested across all the worlds of the Federation? Edgerton's path to power had not been a one-way railroad - many worlds had voted against the instigation of martial law, and if Admiral Radaik's peace effort with the Romulan Senate succeeded, the cards would finally flip. There would be no more reason for the peoples of the Federation to accept a military government, and when a new dawn arose, everyone aboard the Phoenix could have their lives back.

Kane put his head in his hands. Defending one's beliefs was all well good, but Jake Crichton was a father - he didn't have the luxury of idealism. How many more were like that below decks? How many more of the Phoenix crew secretly wished they had never gotten involved with this ham-fisted crusade? Surely nobody wanted the life of an outlaw. Edgerton was determined to kill them all - he'd chase the Phoenix around the moons of Nibia and 'round the Antares Maelstrom, and 'round Perdition's flames before he'd give them up. What sort of life had they been condemned to?

[[Byte to Captain Kane.]] The android's voice cut into his reverie. Outside, the starfield was no longer a streak of white blurs, coalescing now into individual pin-pricks of silver against the black.

"Go ahead." Kane knew what the android wanted.

[[Captain, we have arrived at the Elandipole system.]]

Kane got up and headed for the bridge. No more time for introspection. "On my way."

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The Federation Role Playing Game Presents
A Mind's Eye Production of a Collective Film

STAR TREK PHOENIX: CIVIL WAR

Starring
Peter Aspinall as Peter Aspinall
Shawn Collins as Jake Crichton
Alix Fowler as Kassandra Thytos / Selyara
Jamie LeBlanc as Aerdan Jos
Susan Ledbetter as Eve Dalziel / Siobhan Reardon-Marxx
Joy Phillips as Izshlana Vort / Samantha Perry
Dale Rasmussen as James Barton
Taylor Williams as Bret Maverick / Kyle Calhoun
Jerome McKee as Michael Turlogh Kane


FEATURING A CAST OF TENS OF THOUSANDS
WRITTEN BY THE CREWS OF THE PHOENIX AND THE PENDRAGON

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Location: Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth
Scene: Interim Office of the President


Richard Edgerton, Military Governor of Earth and Interim President of the United Federation of Planets, sat back in his magnificent leather armchair, and sighed with pleasure. There were some perks of the job he occupied, and fine furniture, food, and drink were some of them. Power was the best perk of all, and now that he had secured absolute power, it was time to rule absolutely.

The Federation existed now as only a name. There was no more General Assembly, no more Council, and the office of President had been subsumed into that of Military Governor. Neo-Essentialist Starfleet admirals were governing other worlds in the name of martial law. Steady propaganda fed the populations of those worlds the same drip-feed - fear illegal foreigners, fear Romulans, traitors are everywhere. FedCom had been rebranded Fed News, and now slanted itself towards personality-driven opinion pieces and punditry instead of actual fact. This was helpful in controlling the flow of political discourse, and ensured two things - the validation of stupidity and the percolation of confusion. The Romulan siege of Bolarus, now into its fifth month, was a perfect external threat to distract a worried population. It allowed the Neo-Essentialist propagandists to use phrases like "protect our freedoms", "support our troops", and "make the Federation great again", to brand any dissent as evidence of traitorous intent, to black-bag anyone who was not wholly behind the new regime and send them off to an incarceration camp somewhere.

There was now no longer any stopping him, he knew. The successful inside-job assassinations of the civilian government (and the clever redirecting of the blame towards rebel elements working with the Romulans) had created a temporary surge of support for martial law. Although that was no starting to wane, it had to be maintained for a little longer. Another couple of weeks, Edgerton knew, and he would be completely supreme. All of Starfleet would rally under his leadership, the Romulans would be thrown-back to pre-war borders, and the peoples of the Federation would settle in to their new lives. Section 31 would transition from internal security agents to secret policemen. The economy would recover, and Starfleet would be heavily militarised, putting the full power of its industry and commerce into the military. Then the Klingons and Romulans would learn exactly what the Federation could do to them. There would be a new empire in the quadrant, and he would be its emperor.

However, there was always one little worm that wriggled its way into his visions of the future. Although the Phoenix was long gone from Earth, its crew a band of disgraced traitors, she had managed to attract others to her cause. A couple of the minor politicians from the previous cabinet, a few misguided starship captains. Nothing of a threat, not against the might of Starfleet - but even that was uncertain.

The strength of the Neo-Essentialist movement was not in numbers, but in influence. The vast majority of Starfleet officers were literally 'just following orders', committed by their oaths of service to obey the commands of their superiors. Some may have had personal agreements or disagreements with the burgeoning new politics of the Federation, but only around one-in-fifteen Starfleet personnel were committed Neo-Essentialists. Fortunately, each one of these one-in-fifteen were officers - department heads, commanders, flag ranks. It made for a curious tightrope for the Neo-Essentialists to walk, knowing that they were one step away from a rebellion that was guaranteed to overthrow them. That was why it was so important to distract, to divert, to propagandise, to make sure that they kept winning this most dangerous game.

His intercom chimed, and Leonard's voice came through. [[Admiral, Commander Heydrich is here to see you.]]

Edgerton sat forward, activing his desktop terminal and calling up Heydrich's service record even as he touched the control to speak to his secretary. "Thank you, Leonard. Send him in immediately, please."

Edgerton's brow furrowed as he scanned the decrypted data on his screen. Commander Ronald Heydrich, a twelve-year Starfleet veteran, born thirty-four years ago in Vienna to now-deceased parents. An only child, no spouse, no children. Some extended family, but hardly any contact. Recruited into Starfleet Intelligence at the end of his cadet cruise, and from there into Section 31. Joined the Neo-Essentialists not long after Edgerton's accession to command, and already had gained a reputation as one of the most uncompromising members of the movement. Ronald Heydrich was cold towards non-Humans, and actively despised enemy aliens. His idea of 'Federation First' was one that excluded, or at least managed the populations of, all non-Human species.

When they had first met, Edgerton had queried Heydrich, seeking to know more of this philosophy, and was surprised to find a man even more committed than himself. Heydrich's unwavering dedication to the eradication of civilian government was one thing (and all card-carrying members of the Neo-Essentialist movement at least professed their belief in that particular doctrine), but Heydrich too it even farther. He had told Edgerton that none of other peoples of the Federation had the resolute hearts necessary to achieve their aims, that in the future he could foresee a Human-led Federation where the populations, cultures and beliefs of all other species were tightly controlled from Earth. Only then, he had assured Edgerton, could Humans be truly safe.

Edgerton had promoted him on the spot, despite the racism. Heydrich was a loyal stormtrooper, and all powerful men needed enforcers.

The doors swooshed open and Heydrich marched in ramrod-straight, his figure-hugging black uniform contrasting sharply with his blond hair and bright blue eyes. Edgerton stood up to receive him, never knowing Heydrich to be anything other than totally military in his demeanour. The younger man had been born several centuries too late. "Commander Heydrich."

Heydrich crisply stood to attention, clicking his heels together. "Mister President."

Edgerton sat down again, waving away the formality. 'I'm not using that honorific at this moment," he said with a smile. "These things take time. Did you get a chance to review your orders?"

Heydrich produced a PADD from behind his back. "Yes, sir. I am to proceed to these co-ordinates and recruit Subject Red."

Edgerton nodded. "Correct. A fleet is massing near Sirius, and you and Subject Red will lead it. I have already sent Subject Red a number of messages explaining the reasons why I am calling him out of retirement. He has been somewhat reticent, but your arrival on the Century will be the catalyst that finally convinces him to join us."

"I understand, sir." Heydrich consulted his PADD again. "Following our recruitment of Subject Red, we will lead the fleet to the Elandipole system. There, we will make contact with Subject Blue, and engage and destroy the rebel fleet."

"All correct," smiled Edgerton. "I confess to being somewhat envious, Commander. You are embarking on the final act of the great crusade. With the rebel fleet destroyed, the future will be set. The Neo-Essentialist movement can emerge from the shadows and take our place in history. Have you any questions before you board the Century?"

"No, sir. I am ready when you give the word."

"Commander Heydrich," smiled Edgerton wolfishly, "the word is given."

The black-clad younger man snapped his heels together, spun about and marched off towards destiny. Richard Edgerton steepled his fingers and tried to predict the future. Heydrich would succeed in recruiting Subject Red - that was almost a given - and with the legend of Red's career in Starfleet going before the fleet, the starships at Sirius would have gained a devastating psychological advantage over the rebel fleet. Serving along veterans had that effect on people, and the added bonus was that Subject Red was not even a Neo-Essentialist, thus lending politial legitimacy to Edgerton's cause. Forty-eight starships of various classes, over five thousand Starfleet personnel, all being led by a handful of Neo-Essentialist officers and one Starfleet legend.

Subject Blue, however, was different. Only three people in the entire galaxy knew of Blue's existence - Edgerton, Heydrich, and Blue. This was deliberate. In gambling parlance, Subject Blue was a trump card - something so secret that its deployment meant that the hand was poised on a knife edge. But this was a hand that Edgerton was determined to win, and if it meant playing his trump card, then play it he would.

Everything was, finally, falling into place.

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Location: USS Phoenix, emerging from warpspace into the Elandipole system
Scene: Main Bridge


Michael Turlogh Kane emerged onto the bridge just as the starfield ahead coalesced onto the main viewer. Everybody who was supposed to be on the bridge was there - for the first time in what seemed like weeks, all his senior officers were at their stations, ready to react to whatever awaited them in this place.

Elandipole. Finally. It had been almost a year since Richard Edgerton had launched his Neo-Essentialist coup right in the heart of the Federation, as prophesied by the Sixth Drake. Now it was time to find out if what he had said was true - everything about the Pendragon, the future, all of it. It had been a long road to get this far - seizing the Phoenix, the voyage to Elandipole, the journey through the Hyperion Expanse. Now, it was time to test Drake's story. It was not an ending. It was only the end of the beginning.

Ahead on the main viewer, a beautiful rainbow-coloured world rolled by, tumbling through space in an endless Newtonian spiral. It was a gas planet, held tightly in the grip of the far-off yellow sun, the fifth planet of the system.

Kane sat down in the centre seat. All heads were down, monitoring their stations. "Report," he said.

At Ops, Byte was smoothly collating the data from the myriad sensor reports. [[A full datascope is available on the main computer,]] it said. [[The fourth planet is the only class M world. Our readings indicate that just over ninety-per-cent of its surface is ocean.]]

"A warm temperate world," confirmed Aerdan to Kane's right. "Atolls, lagoons, peaceful tides, small islands. If not for the lack of dry land it would be a perfect colony world."

[[Captain,]] Byte reported, its brow furrowed, [[sensors are detecting three starships in orbit of the fourth planet.]]

Kane stood up. "Full impulse towards them. Analysis, Mister Byte."

[[Receiving Starfleet transponder codes. The USS Acreman, the USS Stonehenge, and one other. Standby, sir.]] The android seemed to cock its head like a bird. [[The third starship's transponder code does not match last known Starfleet records, Captain, but sensors indicate that it matches the configuration of an Excalibur-class explorer.]]

"It must be the Pendragon," said Kane, lowering his voice and looking at Aerdan. "Drake said she was in this system."

The Andorian nodded. "Did Drake mention anything about the Acreman or the Stonehenge?"

Kane shook his head slowly. "No."

"History changes every day," murmured the ExO. "If we have come so far that Drake's information is out of date, then why has the Pendragon not been erased from our existence?"

Kane stood up, turning to Kass at Tactical. "Let's find out. Hailing frequencies, Major."

"Open."

"This is Captain Kane on the starship Phoenix," he said deliberately, choosing his words carefully. "We have been led to this system by a Starfleet officer named Drake. We are fleeing the Neo-Essentialist takeover of the Federation, and we were led to believe that we would find a welcome here."

There was no immediately reply, only the great silence of the void. Kane turned to Kass quizzically.

"They heard us, Cap'n," she said. "Your message is bein' triangulated between all three starships."

[[Now in visual range,]] said Byte.

"On screen," ordered Aerdan.

The image on the main viewer winked, showing a close-up view of Elandiole IV. Wispy clouds gently scudded across the heaving waters of the blue-green world-ocean far below, broken here and there by little brown dots of land. The planet looked beautiful, but between it and the Phoenix were three orbiting vessels, three silvery-hulled starships of various shapes and sizes. The largest, longer than the Phoenix by a third and just as wide, was breaking orbit, lazily turning away from the ocean and angling itself into the night.

"They're respondin'," said Kass.

The pleasing sight of the waterworld vanished, being instantly replaced by a view of a starship's bridge. Although the general layout was as familiar as home, the systems that were visible at the various stations were not so much. Several seemed holographic or three-dimensional in nature, with the officers working on them seemingly tracing lines with their fingers in mid-air, cutting through holographic LCARS displays. The impression was that of something more, of a nerve centre for an operation much bigger than what was on view.

Rising from the centre seat and approaching the main viewer was a figure that Kane hadn't seen in years. The boyish looks were long gone, and the once-brown hair was speckled with gray, but the brown eyes were same, ringed now as they were with the beginnings of crow's feet. He was older than Kane by twenty years, but he was still recognisable.

"Peter?" asked Kane. He was frowning with uncertainty - both he and Peter Aspinall were around the same age, but the man on the viewscreen looked a lot older than he remembered.

{{It's been a long time, Michael. Welcome to Elandipole.}} Peter was smiling, and he looked past Kane to the Andorian standing behind him. {{Hello again, Commander Jos.}}

Kane wanted to smile back, but there were too many questions. "Drake contacted me on Earth with a pretty wild story about future history, Peter. Edgerton and the Neo- Essentialists have taken over. We're trying to fight back, but..." His sentence trailed off uselessly.

{{Drake's story is true. Or was true, at least,}} said Peter. {{Mike, there's a lot you need to know, a lot I need to tell you, and time travel is only the beginning of it. Are you willing to beam over here for a conference? Aerdan too. I think I can answer some of your questions.}}

Kane glanced at Aerdan before turning back to the screen. "Alright, we will. We'll enter orbit and I'll have my crew take shore leave on the waterworld."

{{Good idea. The Stonehenge set up a small supply station on one of the atolls. Feel free to use it.}}

Kane smiled wryly. "We have seven thousand guests to accommodate. It'll take us some time to work out the logistics. I'll call you back. In the meantime - it's good to see you again."

{{You too, Michael. Pendragon out.}}

The screen winked again, showing the inviting waterworld. Kane turned to Aerdan with a faux sigh. "Well, Commander," he murmured, "I wonder how many of the crew can swim?"

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Captain's Log, Supplemental - The Phoenix has entered orbit of Elandipole Four, and Commander Jos and I are preparing to beam to the Pendragon for our meeting with Peter. I look forward to finally getting some answers about how and why everything has happened as it has, as well as exchanging some potentially new intelligence on the Neo-Essentialists. To that end, Selyara will be accompanying us.

In the meantime, I have ordered general shore leave for the crew of the Phoenix on the planet below. An unlucky skeleton crew under Lieutenant Byte will remain aboard to maintain her critical systems, but everyone else will be free to indefinitely enjoy an unspoilt tropical paradise. An open-ended vacation is exactly what this crew deserves.

Lastly, I have informed the former citizens of Limbo that we have arrived at their new home. They were understandably pleased, and have efficiently organised themselves into groups that will be beaming down to various locations with industrial replicators, communicators, and everything else that a burgeoning colony needs to start up. It is my hope that they will be able to make a new life here on this world, free at last from the degradations of their previous existence.

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Scene: Transporter Room One (deck 6, saucer section)


Kane stifled a smile as he almost bumped into Russ BaShen entering the transporter room. The ship's pilot was wearing next to nothing except very small swimming trunks, a pair of flip-flops, and a Starfleet-issue sun visor. In one hand he was carrying a pair of rubber fins, and the other was trying to hold up a beach towel that was badly wrapped around his waist.

From inside the transporter room, Kane could hear the familiar whine of the energy beams. The colonists had been beaming down in droves for the past hour, carrying everything they owned on their backs, a real sense of hope flowing through them like a warm current. They laughed and joked with each other, smiles splitting the faces that so lately had been in pain.

Kane gestured to the rubber fins while Selyara and Aerdan both stared at Russ. "Planning on doing some swimming, Mister BaShen?"

"Yes, sir.I've seen Jake and Kass getting ready to hit the beach too. I daresay everyone is." Russ was cringing. "Permission to disembark, Captain?"

Kane chuckled. "Permission granted. Enjoy your vacation, Lieutenant."

As Russ stepped up onto the transporter pad alongside several of the Limbo colonists, Kane signalled to Stiles Orion that he, Selyara and Aerdan were to be next. "It's good to see people smiling again," he commented. "How quickly the antagonisms of the Hyperion Expanse fall away." He tapped his communicator. "Kane to Byte. I'm preparing to disembark. The Phoenix is yours, Lieutenant."

[[Understood, Captain. Bridge out.]]

At Stiles's signal, Kane, Selyara and Aerdan stepped onto the transporter pad.

"Do you think we'll find the answers we're looking for?" asked Selyara.

Kane shrugged. "I don't know, Selyara. I genuinely don't know." He tipped a nod to Stiles. "Energise."

As the sky-blue light of the matter stream killed him, the last thing Kane heard was the laughing of happy Limbo children.

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NRPG: Welcome to "Civil War", our new storyline. As the Federation falls to the militaristic Neo-Essentialists, the USS PHOENIX arrives at Elandipole for a rendevous with history. Alongside the Federation's legitimate government-in-exile and a starship from a defunct future, this rag-tag fleet prepares to defend itself from a war which threatens to tear the quadrant apart...

... but all of that doesn't matter yet, because FURPIG BEACH PARTY!! That's right - no unrelenting grimness, no blood, no death, no messy interstellar politicking, only the warm sunshine, the calm waves, and unspoiled beaches, and the playful frilled sharks. Let your characters relax while Kane, Aerdan, and Selyara give some exposition and you worry about whatever it is Edgerton has planned. You can interact with each other, or not. You can be on the same island, or not. You can work helping the colonists, or not. Don't get me wrong - you still have to post, it's just that now you can have fun with it. You know, that thing you always say you want? Well, here you go.

Because the unrelenting grimness is gathering like a dark cloud on the horizon, and when it comes our way there'll be misery and pain heaped on top of each other. And that's just the easy stuff.

Finally - and please pay attention - Justin Owens does NOT want to be on the mail string anymore, so please take him off. I have also not included any of the observers on this email. As far as I can tell, the mail string on this email is the Official FRPG Mailing List. Okey dokey?


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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