Dreams of Genocide

Posted on Mar 24, 2016 @ 3:45pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Fortress: Earth

"DREAMS OF GENOCIDE"

(Continued from "Triage")

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Captain's Log, supplemental - with the return of our away team to the Phoenix and the destruction of the Neo-Essentialist base on Lavenza, we are now making all speed to sector zero-zero-one to join the fleet...

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Location: USS Phoenix, en route to Earth
Stardate: [2.16]0324.1840
Scene: Bridge


Michael Turlogh Kane took a break from reading the away team reports and stared into the main viewer, letting his mind wander. The screen was filled with the midnight-blue tunnel of the transwarp conduit - an astonishing piece of propulsion technology that was actually being generated by the Phoenix herself - and the ship was hurtling down this tunnel at speeds that would have been unimaginable a century ago. Although it took some getting used to, transwarp conduit propulsion was the way of the future. In another century, when the technology had been rolled out across Starfleet, starships would be ploughing the furrows of interstellar space at dramatically-reduced times. The galaxy would be smaller, suns would be closer, and everything would have changed utterly.

His mind turned again to the away team. Although Doctor Foster had promised that all of them would be fit for duty by the time they reached Earth, it was unclear if any psychological problems would linger. Thomas Varn (or whatever that thing was that wore his face) was still undergoing every medical test that he could be subjected to, but word of his seemingly-miraculous resurrection had already spread through the ship and everyone was talking about it. People didn't come back from the dead. They stayed dead. Now it seemed that even the wall into the afterlife had been breached, if their incredulous reports of the Promethean Device were anything to go by.

Kane couldn't sit still any longer. He closed his chair's control panel and got to his feet, putting his hands behind his back, and started to pace around the bridge.

The Neo-Essentialists were on the verge of defeat, and the Phoenix was on her way to spearhead that final battle. It was a strange record to hold, but the Phoenix had not seen combat once since her launch two years ago. For a ship built for war, she had been spending her time at peace, but Kane knew both the ship and crew were ready. They'd been ready for months, ever since the tattered remnants of Starfleet joined them at Elandipole. It was still too early to predict what sort of battle lay waiting, but Kane knew that both ship and crew were itching for a fight, and he was determined to lead them into one.

He stopped pacing. Byte was watching him. The android was doing it surreptitiously, its cornflower blue eyes watching Kane as he wandered around the bridge. Whenever Kane would turn towards Ops, Byte would immediately drop its eyes and begin monitoring its panel again.

Kane stopped pacing and stared at Byte expectantly.

Slowly, the android lifted its eyes, an innocent expression on its face. {{Captain,}} it said, {{may I ask a question? It is about the Promethean Device that was mentioned in the away team reports.}}

Kane felt a flash of worry. Byte didn't know, couldn't know. He'd carefully seen to that. "What is it, Mister Byte?"

Byte's brow creased the way it did when it was querying something. It was astonishingly lifelike, but Kane reminded himself that Byte was simply mimicking Human facial expressions. {{Thomas Varn was dead. Now he is alive. It is unclear if he is a clone or some genetic reconstruction, yet many of the crew are acting like he is still dead, even though he is in sickbay as we speak. Why is that?}}

Kane sighed. "That's not an easy question to answer."

{{Try,}} said Byte. Then, in case it had crossed a line, it sheepishly added, {{sir.}}

Kane thought about how to frame it. "Well," he said, "take me."

{{Take you where, Captain?}}

"Take me for *example*," said Kane, wondering what sort of madness was being thrust upon him. "There is only one of me in the universe. I am unique. Perhaps," he added with a wry smile, "I am even special. But ten of me? A hundred? A thousand? That diminishes me."

{{Makes you less unique?}} asked Byte.

"Exactly," said Kane.

{{And thus you feel less special,}} said Byte. {{Less important. Less self-fulfilled.}}

"Right," nodded Kane.

Byte cocked its head as it processed the answer. When it spoke next, its voice had an undercurrent of worry. {{Captain, I am one of three siblings, all of whom were born identical in every way. You might even say that that there are three of me. It would be an easy matter for Professor Maddox and his team to create another of me.}} Its mouth creased into a sad line. {{I have never been unique, nor have I been special. It is only by observing my shipmates that I understand the importance of self-fulfillment. Now, thanks to your explanation, I realise that I will never know that - }}

"Now hold on, Mister Byte," said Kane, holding up his hands before the android went full teenage emo on him. "You and your two siblings were blank slates at birth, yes? You chose your own gender and purpose in life."

{{Yes, sir.}}

"Did either of them choose to join Starfleet?"

{{No, Captain. To my knowledge, neither of them has left Earth.}}

"Byte," said Kane in the kindliest tone he could muster, "you have travelled to stars that cannot be seen in Earth's sky. You have gone farther and seen more than most Humans ever will, and you're only a decade old. Your experiences give you perspectives that nobody else in this galaxy truly shares, least of all your two siblings. Despite my similarities to the Human race, my thoughts and my feelings are my own, and that gives me a special uniqueness. Despite your similarities to your two siblings, you are not the same as them. In your own way, you are as unique as a snowflake."

Byte seemed to shine like a praised child. {{Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.}}

Thay shared a moment, and Kane moved back to the centre seat, wryly wondering what Byte was going to be like when it hit puberty.

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Location: Earth
Scene: Neo-Essentialist bunker under San Francisco Bay


Richard Edgerton watched Leonard sit down opposite him in their bunker office. It was smaller than he'd have liked, but with tens of thousands of kilos of water pushing down on the bunker from all sides, space was at a premium. Like the greatest of leaders throughout Human history, Richard Edgerton sacrificed for his people, and so he made do with a small office with only a minimum of discomfort.

"An update on our situation, please," he said, once Leonard was seated.

"Yes, sir." Leonard activated a PADD. "It's not all good news, sir."

"It never is."

"Aegis is fully operational," said Leonard. "It's now visible in the sky, from all points on the planet at any time of the day, as a golden web. While it's an effective deterrent to social unrest, that has not stopped protests from breaking out in most of the major cities around the world. Our orders to quell the crowds are being repeatedly queried and confirmed, as if the local Starfleet and Marine personnel on the ground are growing more insubordinate."

"A short period of adjustment," said Edgerton. "We need not dwell on it. Carry on."

Leonard looked unsure, but scrolled down on his screen. "The most disconcerting thing from a propaganda point of view is that communications are still open. Space-traffic control stations report over seven hundred ships in high orbit now, all privately owned craft of all types. More arrive every day. Shipping has ground to a halt. People cannot arrive or leave the planet, but they're messaging one another on subspace radio with abandon. There's a lot of chatter out there, sir, and most of it is not favourable to us. People are growing more and more upset."

"I can imagine," nodded Edgerton. "You know, I should have made them install a replicator in here. I have a thirst."

"I'll fetch you something once we're done, sir. Admiral, much of the subspace chatter is seditious. Shouldn't we try to jam the frequencies or something? We're certainly capable of it."

Edgerton chuckled. "No, Leonard. Let them keep talking. Let them keep getting more frustrated. It will make things even more difficult once Starfleet arrives."

"Ah," nodded Leonard in understanding. "They'll have to deal with all those civilians in orbit, thus compounding their attempts to besiege us. Fear truly is a powerful weapon, Admiral."

Edgerton smiled wolfishly. "I am the master of the world, Leonard. At the touch of a control panel I can irradiate the surface of the planet and kill nearly forty billion people. And make no mistake, if Humanity cannot be saved from the Federation, then there is only one other option."

The words chilled Leonard to his core. He put down the PADD and got to his feet. "I'll get you something to drink now, sir. You have much to think about."

He left his leader - no, that was wrong. Edgerton was no longer his leader, Leonard knew. He left his *master* dreaming his dreams of genocide and tried to find somewhere in this bunker where there were no other crazy people.

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Location: USS Demeter, en route to sector zero-zero-one
Scene: Conference Room


They had all arrived within minutes of each other, beaming over from their starships and gathering here on the Demeter, all the luminaries of the fractured Federation. Sardak, Marie-Claire Martine, Alexander Towers, Siobhan Reardon, and Dexter Marxx. They sat down around the oval table in the Demeter's conference room, and took a moment to greet one another.

Sardak lowered the hood of his brown robe. "This will be the final council I call together before we arrive in the Terran system," he said. "We will examine our readiness for the coming confrontation." He looked to Marxx. "Admiral, what is the status of the star-fleet of the United Federation of Planets?"

The Vegan's tone of reply was resolute, in keeping with Sardak's formal language. "We are ready, Mister President. We have one hundred and thirty starships and ninety-nine thousand people ready to go to war. The USS Jenner has repaired her sabotage damage and reports all systems fully functional."

"What of the Phoenix?" asked the President.

"I have nothing to report regarding the Phoenix," said Marxx apologetically. He glanced around the table. "But she's coming. She'll be here."

Sardak nodded. "When we confront the Neo-Essentialists, it is imperative that we agree to the conditions under which we will accept the cessation of hostilities."

Martine nodded. "Yes. And we need to communicate that across the fleet. No individual ship's captain or officer should think that they are empowered to accept any sort of surrender on our behalf. If Edgerton wants to deal, he must deal with us."

"Do you have a proposition, Mister President?" asked Siobhan Reardon.

"I do," said Sardak. He activated his PADD and read from it. "We, the legitimate representatives of the United Federation of Planets, now hereby engaged in a great crusade to restore our government from its usurpation by an illegal armed insurrection, do hereby declare that we shall not accept any surrender from the organisation known as the Neo-Essentialists, unless it be without condition, parole or guarantee, and with the acknowledgement that no condition, parole or guarantee is extended." He looked around at them, gauging their reaction.

"We are demanding unconditional surrender?" said Martine.

Sardak inclined his head in the affirmative. "That is what I propose."

"I think it's a good call," said Towers. "Neo-Essentialist ground forces are likely to be very low. Similiarly, we've already determined that Edgerton can't call enough starships for help. When we begin the invasion of Earth - "

"Liberation," interrupted Sardak. "The words we choose are important. We are liberating your homeworld, Colonel, not invading it."

Towers didn't miss a beat. "I was born on Raxil Seven, but I take your point, Mister President. My observation is that when we begin the liberation of Earth, the outcome is a foregone conclusion."

"I wonder," said Martine, "that if we call for an unconditional surrender, we are removing the element of negotiation that could lead to an early conclusion of any conflict? If the Neo-Essentialists think that there is no hope of an honourable cessation of hostilities, they will want to fight longer and harder. We must be aware of the billions of civilians on Earth who will be caught up in any conflict too. Edgerton is likely to use them as human shields, and if we come on too strong he might - well, you know."

"It's a worry," agreed Marxx, "but I agree with the President. Not only are we liberating Humans from this repressive organisation, but we must do it in a way that leaves nobody in any doubt as to who the victors are."

Martine looked at Siobhan Reardon. "With respect, Admiral Marxx," she said cautiously, "you may not have the same emotional investment as a Human would at seeing the Earth in danger."

Marxx seemed nonplussed, but spoke pointedly. "I acknowledge that, Madam Secretary. In that case, I must rely on my decades of experience as a Starfleet officer."

Martine held up her hands. "I apologise, Admiral. I did not mean to impugne your record. You have our full support, of course. It's just that - well, we all have families and friends there."

"We're going to save them," said Towers.

"Yes," said Sardak. "We will do it while committed to minimising any civilian casualties." He looked around for any other comments, but there were none. "We are agreed, then. The United Federation of Planets will only accept the unconditional surrender of the Neo-Essentialist movement. This message will be broadcast across the Terran system upon our arrival, which, I am informed, will be within the next twenty-four hours." He paused a moment, then spoke softly. "As a student of the Kolinahr, I do my utmost not to let my emotions control me, but I acknowledge the difficulties faced by my Human friends at this worrisome time. Know that we stand with you, as we always have. In this great federation of planets, we are one people. We are united."

The silence surged softly back into the room in the wake of the President's words, and everyone looked each other with new-found strength. They were less a day from facing the greatest enemy they had ever known.

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NRPG: Moar build-up!


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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