Not Enough Time

Posted on Jul 09, 2016 @ 1:18am by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Fortress: Earth

"NOT ENOUGH TIME"

(Continued from "Necropolis")

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Location: USS Demeter, holding station
Stardate: [2.16] 0708.2115
Scene: Conference Room


There was silence in the conference room. The viewscreen had long since winked off, and of the shocked people present, nobody could speak. The enormity of what had just happened was sinking in - no, that wasn't the right word. It was oozing into the thoughts and realisations of everyone, slowly, like mud through cracks in wood. The world had changed in one terrible moment. And nothing would ever be the same.

Michael Turlogh Kane tore his eyes away from the table's data stream and looked around the Demeter's conference room. Sardak, Marie-Claire Martine, and Alexander Towers were all dumbstruck - Martine had a hand clasped to her mouth and seemed close to tears, while Towers was trying to bring himself to react, to do something to stave off the shock he was under.

But it was Marxx who was worst of all. The giant Vegan had a look on his face the likes of which Kane had never seen - eyes open but unseeing, waves of emotion moving like ripples of water through the violet. His expression was like that of a man who had made the biggest mistake of his life and just lost it all.

Kane licked dry lips. He forced the truth - Paris sundered, millions dead - to one side for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant and he spoke quietly. "Mister President, perhaps the Cabinet should convene to discuss what the government's response to this event should be." He hated himself for using sterile language.

Sardak nodded slowly. "Yes, Captain. I think you are right." The Vulcan's Kolinahr training was serving him well - his expression was blank. Sardak caught the shocked eyes of Martine and Towers, before turning to his fleet commander. "Admiral Marxx?"

Marxx didn't respond. He looked like his world had collapsed.

"Admiral Marxx," said Sardak again.

The Vegan responded. He looked at the President, opening his mouth to try to speak, but no sound came out. He composed himself, and tried again. "Yes, sir?"

"Under the circumstances, I think it would be a wise move to put the fleet on alert," said the Vulcan. "My cabinet colleagues and I will need time to deliberate on our next move. In the meantime, perhaps you and Captain Kane can return to your respective starships." It was a gentle order.

Marxx's head was back in the game now. "Of course, Mister President."

Kane followed the giant Vegan from the room, the shocked silence surging back in their wake. The doors hissed closed, leaving the politicians to their musings.

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Scene: Turbolift


The turbolift seemed heavier, like the weight of twenty-eight million souls was bearing it down. There wasn't much room to move in the confined space with someone of Marxx's bulk, so Kane made himself small and waited for a reaction from the fleet admiral.

It didn't come immediately, but when it did, it was an enormous exhalation, a breath of such shock and sorrow that Kane was sickened with worry. "It's... my... fault...!" Marxx choked out the words, his great chest heaving. "I should have seen it, should have stopped it! By the All-Father, all those people!"

Kane didn't know what to do. He had been with people who had lost friends over the years, had delivered his share of bad news to loved ones, but this was different. Something had occurred that could not be made sense of, at least not immediately. The only thing you could do after an event of this magnitude was just react.

Dexter Marxx did something that Kane had never seen him do before. He prayed. Through great sighs, Marxx began to whisper a prayer to his Vegan god in his own language. Kane didn't speak enough Vegan to understand anything but the most basic elements and references to the All-Father, but the desperate, frightened tone in which they were delivered was unmistakable.

Kane reached out and clasped one of Marxx's meaty crimson hands in one of his own. "This is not your fault, Admiral!" he said fiercely. The horror of the situation was gnawing at him now. Tears stung his eyes. "It's Richard Edgerton's fault! He pushed the button, not you!" As Marxx caught his eyes, the words came tumbling out. "There was nothing you could have done! Be strong, Admiral! Everyone needs you, now more than ever!"

Marxx nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes..."

Kane continued. "There are a hundred thousand Starfleet personnel looking to you for leadership now! They're going to want to know that their superiors are as horrified as they are and that they can play a part in making sure this doesn't happen again!"

Marxx was nodding. He put his other hand on Kane's right shoulder. "I'm alright, Captain. I'm myself again."

It was a lie, but Kane didn't say anything about it.

"The fleet goes to Yellow Alert," Marxx was saying. "Keep me updated with the phase cloak theory. Once we decide what to do, we'll need to get a message to your people on the surface" A sudden realisation crossed his face. "By the All-Father! None of them were in Paris, were they?"

Kane shook his head. "San Francisco."

"Good. Good." Marxx pulled away from Kane. He was silent for a moment, then put his hands together. "I will not let that happen again, Captain Kane. I will not let that madman murder anyone else. If I have to die to defeat Richard Edgerton, then that's what I'll do. But no more innocents are going to be hurt because of me. I swear it on my daughter's soul."

The turbolift slowed, and came to a halt on the transporter deck. Kane kept quiet and followed his commander to the transporter room, bound for home.

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Location: USS Phoenix, nearby
Scene: Transporter Room 1, Deck 6 (saucer section) -> Outside corridor


A flash of light. A feeling of coldness, right down to the soul.

Kane materialised in Transporter Room One. Lieutenant Byte was waiting for him. Kane stepped down from the pad, nodding his thanks to Cyrus Andreyov at the transporter controls. "Status, Mister Byte?"

Kane knew that the android couldn't feel emotions, but it was putting on a grave face and voice full of gravitas. {{We monitored the destruction of Paris from the bridge. A terrible day, Captain.}}

"Yes," Kane nodded, as they stepped through the doors of the transporter room and into the outside corridor. "Have your staff been able to analyse the weapon used?"

Byte nodded. {{I have preliminary details ready, sir.}}

Kane held up a hand. "I'm going to my quarters first. Staff meeting in ten minutes."

{{Understood, sir.}} Their paths diverged. Kane went one way, Byte the other.

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Scene: Captain's quarters, deck 2 (saucer section)


Alone in his quarters, Kane let out an almighty breath. He paused to think about what had happened, struck by the gravity of it. The people, all those people -

No. He'd go crazy if he dwelled on it. Action now. Keep working.

He moved to the viewscreen in his living area. "Computer, hail Captain Reardon aboard the USS Zhukov."

[[Working.]]

It took several seconds for the call to be connected, but when she appeared on the screen, Siobhan Reardon was not on her bridge. She was in her quarters, hair and clothes all rumpled. Behind her, Kane could see the outline of where she had been lying on her bed. But her face gave her way - she'd already been informed of what had happened and was in obvious shock. Word's spreading fast, Kane thought.

{{Captain Kane,}} she said, forcing the words out. {{I've just been notified about what's happened. The fleet's going to Yellow Alert?}}

Kane nodded. "Yes. But that's not what I'm calling about."

{{Oh?}} She shook her head. {{I don't understand. I thought it'd be the only thing on anyone's mind right now.}}

"The cabinet are meeting to try to figure out what to do," Kane said. "I'm calling you about Admiral Marxx."

{{What about him?}}

Kane paused for a moment, wondering how to frame it. Marxx and Reardon had once been married - he had served on the Century with them before Marxx got transferred and their marriage went down the toilet. But that didn't mean they weren't still close, nor that the bond between them had been cut completely. If there was anyone in this fleet who might be able to get through to Dexter Marxx's soul, it was probably Siobhan Readon. "During the contact with Edgerton, he said some things to Admiral Marxx. Edgerton was trying to provoke an emotional reaction in the Admiral, probably to justify using the thaleron weapon. Either way, the Admiral has taken it very hard."

{{In what way?}}

"He was near tears. He said a prayer. He made an oath on his dead daughter's spirit. I'm worried that his judgement's been compromised, that Edgerton has knocked him out of the equation by making him feel personally responsible for what happened to Paris."

Siobhan Reardon was fully alert now. {{That son of a bitch.}}

Kane nodded. Edgerton was running rings around them right now. "I'm willing to bet Edgerton is probably going to offer terms in the next few hours, terms favourable to him. He'll try to make Earth independent and seek some sort of political immunity or treaty from Federation sanctions. I have people on Earth working to find him but nothing yet. We're also working on a way to penetrate the shield, but it's still in the theory stage. My point is that it's going to be hard to hold Admiral Marxx back while Sardak and the cabinet use their time debating their response. We need to make a pause. You need to convince him."

{{That's going to be hard to do in the face of twenty-eight million dead innocents, Captain Kane.}}

Kane said nothing.

Siobhan Reardon sighed and nodded. {{I'll go to the Century at once.}}

"Thank you, Captain Reardon. Kane out."

The screen winked to black, and Kane saw his own red-eyed reflection staring back at him.

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Scene: Conference Room, Deck 1 (saucer section)


Five minutes later, Kane entered the conference room with his senior officers - Jake, Byte, Kass, Aerdan. Thomas Varn too. The word about Paris had spread around the Phoenix and the yellow alert bars were flashing from the wall and corridor side-panels. There was a palpable air of shock everywhere. Quiet murmurs among the crew, some weeping openly, some trying to remain stoic in the face of it all.

All of those conflicting emotions were present in the conference room, too, but the senior officers were holding it together well, considering the day. Kane sat down at the head of the table and immediately looked to Jake Crichton and Thomas Varn. "Anything to report?" he asked, knowing it was useless. It had only been an hour or two.

Jake shook his head. "We're still trying to get our heads around what happened."

Kane nodded tiredly. "Mister Byte, your analysis of the Aegis shield, if you please."

The android looked around the table at everyone. {{My apologies, but in order to interpret the data, I must play back the scene as we saw it from the bridge.}} Byte touched a control, and there it was again, appearing as hologram graphics - the satellite turning on its axis, a sickly green beam erupting from it, like a sailing ship's fog-lamp. The beam shone down onto the surface of the Earth, sparkling as it bored through the atmosphere and the clouds before illuminating a doomed patch of land beneath it.

Paris. Capital city of the Federation. Twenty-eight million people.

Byte froze the picture and indicated the satellite. {{We surmised the Aegis shield was capable of this, but now that it has happened, we have managed to make some conclusive scientific determinations.}}

He touched another control, and the hologram changed. Now it showed a thaleron particle - a flickering three-dimensional bright green triangle of energy, tumbling over and over in an endless Newtonian spiral. {{This is a representation of a thaleron particle,}} said Byte brightly. {{Sub-atomic particles are so small that they cannot be measured using light waves.}} The android was trying to be helpful, but nobody was in the mood for it.

Byte manipulated the controls again, and the image altered. The triangle morphed colours, switching from bright green to a dull, sickly bilious green colour, noticeably different in hue from the previous image. {{This is a representation of the thaleron particle that the Aegis shield fired at Paris,}} said Byte. {{It is a thaleron variant particle that retains all the destructive power of its parent, yet is unstable. This beta-thaleron particle can only exist for less than a millionth of a second before dissipating.}}

"An' how would somethin' like that ever be created?" asked Kass, frowning.

"Probably in a particle accelerator," said Thomas glumly. "The Neo-Essentialists probably detected its existence with experimenting with alpha thaleron particles. Each of the satellites either has a particle accelerator built in, or they've figured out a way to store the beta thaleron once created. Much as I admire their scientific progress, I doubt the Neo-Essentialists have the technology needed to miniaturise a particle accelerator that would generate the kind of density needed to create a beta-thaleron particle. They were probably created elsewhere and then deposited inside the satellites, possibly in some sort of stasis field. The wavelength and energy signature between the two forms of thaleron is slightly different, as you can see on the graphic."

{{The thaleron is deployed instantaneously over the target area,}} said Byte as the holographic view winked back to the satellite firing its beam down to Earth. {{The energy created during the thaleron's existence irradiates everything it touches, with especially devastating consequences for organic material.}}

"Yes," said Thomas. "You see, thaleron changes the structure of any atom exposed to it, turning those atoms into radioactive isotopes of that atom. In practical terms, it reduces organic material to inert ash and when the energy breaks down, it severely damages the molecular bonds in inorganic structures."

{{Since the thaleron almost immediately dissipates, it is self-limiting,}} went on Byte. {{It does not expand infinitely. Instead, it pollutes the affected area with its irradiated fallout.}}

Kane sat back. "Incredible. Suggestions?"

"We continue analysis," said Thomas. "Further study of the thaleron is required before we begin to hypothesise."

"I've also got nothing to add," said Jake. "I need more time to even begin to consider the practical application of a phase cloak."

"How're the politicians all takin' it? Paris an' suchlike?" asked Kass.

Kane shook his head. "Not well. They also need time to figure out a response. In the meantime, we're at Yellow Alert and praying Edgerton doesn't decide to push some buttons."

"Any word from Barton or Selyara?" asked Aerdan.

Kane shook his head. "More time." It seemed to sum everything up. Parisians had theirs stolen, and their orbiting would-be saviours needed to find more. There was nothing else to be said. "Keep at it everyone. Dismissed."

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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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