Flare Up

Posted on Jul 25, 2018 @ 3:32pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: The Trouble With Triticale

"FLARE UP"

(Continued from "Detonation")

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Captain's log, supplemental - the Klingons have revealed their hand. They are not here on a diplomatic from their restored empire - Is'toQ is a warlord who seeks to seize as much of the triticale on Sherman's Planet as he can. Now, the Phoenix is under attack and Klingon warriors are beaming down to the streets of Port Emily...

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Location: Port Emily, Sherman's Planet
Stardate: [2.18]0725.1130
Scene: Steps of City Hall


Michael Turlogh Kane listened intently as Jake's report filtered down to him from orbit. When he looked up into the night sky, he could see orange and white flashes of light bursting like distant fireworks. The Klingons were firing on the Phoenix, and Is'toQ had beamed down several squads of his warriors to the streets of Port Emily to cover his seizure of the triticale. Nearby, his officers and the prominent citizens of the town looked on in shock as they realised what was happening. Violence had come to their bucolic farming world.

[[The Leading Sword is holding off, sir - the K'vort cruisers and Birds of Prey are engaging us. We've raised shields, so can't beam anyone up. We've detected about two dozen Klingon warriors on the surface. Comms are spotty because they're putting out a blanket jamming signal - in fact, we'll probably be cut off at any moment. Instructions?]]

"You protect the ship first! Break orbit and retreat if necessary!" said Kane, slapping his communicator. "How soon until the Courageous' arrival?" Yesterday, the Sovereign-class USS Courageous had been dispatched by Starfleet to support the Phoenix, and her arrival was imminent.

[[She's not on sensors, Captain!]] Jake's voice sounded tinny as the weapons fire in orbit cut through the transmission.

"Good luck, Commander!" said Kane, a moment before the channel fizzed out in a crackle of static. He turned to the group of expectant faces before him - Sompek, Governor Chisum, Sheriff Edwards and his deputy, Jasmine Yu and Eve Dalziel, and Kassandra Thytos. "We've got Klingons on the streets, likely converging on the grain silos. You heard the Millers - by now, Is'toQ's sympathisers have tagged most of the triticale in Port Emily. A million tonnes of grain to feed his army."

"We've bin invaded!" squawked Chisum. His hand automatically went for his his hipflask, but when he realised that he'd left it back on his desk, he took out his grubby handkerchief and wiped his perennially-sweating face. "Y'all've got ta git sum marines down here!"

"Oh, now ya wan' our help!" said Kass fiercely She jabbed her forefinger at the quaking man's nose. "I'll tell ya somethin', Chisum - y'all better grow a friggin' spine in tha nex' coupla minutes! If'n those Klingons are here fore blood, then tha body count on yore streets is gonna be pushin' triple figgers before tha sun comes up!"

"Ah've got about half-a-dozen part-time men Ah kin call on," growled Edwards, looking distastefully at Chisum. The black man jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Hobbs. "An' mah deputy here, o' course. She's worth a few more all on her lonesome."

Kane looked at Jasmine and Kass. Their skills overlapped, and both their inputs would be useful here. There was a regulation somewhere that outlined the differing duties of both the Security department and the Marine detachment, but regulations were always written by people who never had to break them. Plus, his own eight years working starship brigs had quickly taught him that it was important to use every asset available, especially when they were officers of the calibre of Jasmine Yu and Kassandra Thytos. "Recommendations?"

"Recon," said Kass quickly. "Maybe contact. We need to figger out if'n the Klingons are gonna shoot on sight, or they're only innerested in securin' the grain silos."

Kane glanced at Jasmine. "Do you concur, Lieutenant?"

Jasmine nodded. "Yes, sir, but if the townspeople get involved, we could be facing a bloodbath. Recommend we find a way to keep them off the streets if possible."

"I can help with that!" said Sompek, stepping forward. The burly Klingon Augment had held his tongue up to now, listening carefully as the situation developed. He turned to Governor Chisum. "Governor, I am assuming that city hall has some sort of planetary transmitter if you need to contact everyone in a hurry?"

Chisum nodded, mopping his forehead. "Yeah. Yeah, it's in tha basement. Emergency broadcasts an' such ta the outlyin' farms. Almost every home on Sherman's Planet's got itself a subspace radio, right?"

Sompek turned to Kane. "I'll make a broadcast, tell people what's happening, keep people off the streets."

"Commander Crichton indicated that the Klingons are attempting to jam the Phoenix's communications," said Kane.

"Civilian frequency bands are different than those used by Starfleet," said Jasmine. "Even if Sompek's transmission only covers Port Emily before being cut off, it might still reach enough ears to make it worthwhile."

"Do it." Kane glanced at Eve. "Go with them, Lieutenant. They might need a Starfleet voice."

"Aye, sir." Eve grabbed Chisum by the forearm, and, following Sompek, she led the governor inside the building.

Kane turned back to Jasmine and Kass. "You two, split up and try to reconnoitre the Klingon landing parties. Lieutenant, you take Deputy Hobbs with you. Major, you take Sheriff Edwards. If you are engaged by the Klingons, break contact and get out of there - don't get killed trying to save the grain."

The foursome turned on their heels and made off into the night streets. All of a sudden, Kane was alone on the steps of city hall.

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Location: USS Phoenix, high above
Scene: Main Bridge - deck 1, saucer section


The red alert klaxons were blaring in alarm and the bridge of the Phoenix sounded like it was bedlam. The Klingons' first volley of shipboard disruptor fire has pummelled the shields, but they were holding. The K'vort cruisers were moving forward at half-impulse, slowly spreading out to circumferentially flank the dreadnought, while the smaller Bre'el Birds of Prey zipped around at closer range, targetting the Phoenix's multiple embedded polaron cannon mounted on her superstructure.

Jake had been in starship combat many times in his career - he was a veteran of the Second Dominion War - but he had never taken the Phoenix into a fight like this. Last time she had fired her guns in anger was the Battle of Earth, but he had leading the strike team that took out Edgerton and had missed the whole show. The specs that he had read showed a terrifying amount of potential firepower, spread across her polaron-based phaser, torpedo and cannon systems, coupled with a nested multi- and meta-phasic dynamic shield system, and backed up with heavy ablative armour and a bio-renegerative hull matrix. That wasn't to say that the Phoenix was invincible, but her launch had made all existing starships obsolete - if the rumours were true, the Romulans had been scrambling for the past three or four years to come up with something to match her - and gave the Phoenix a certain air of superiority that it was important to project. That was a lesson these Klingons needed to learn, and as the oncoming K'vort cruisers fanned out in an attempt at gaining a tactical advantage, Jake set his jaw in preparation for combat.

The bridge crew were ready, too. Tomas Vukovic was sitting at the conn like he had done this a hundred times before, while Byte's impassive eyes flickered up and down its data stream, picking out relevant information to pass on to the centre seat. Mackenzie Procter stood at Tactical, Asta Elgin was at the bridge engineering station, and Karrington Crow looked on from the bridge science station.

The Klingons fired another volley, a stream of sickly green disruptor bolts that slammed into the shields and rocked the bridge. Jake gripped the centre seat and glanced down at the captain's tactical screen, built into the right armrest.

{{Six hits to forward shields,}} reported Byte. {{No damage. Shields are holding at once hundred per cent.}}

"Commander, the Birds of Prey are flanking us," reported Procter from above him. "They're firing at our nacelles."

Jake knew that the menacing violet nacelles of the Phoenix were heavily armoured. They were built to take a pounding. "Switch aft polaron cannons to automatic and keep an eye on them. It's those cruisers we need to worry about."

"Not if they can't penetrate our shields," said Tomas Vukovic laconically.

The lead K'vort-class cruiser was filling up the main viewer. It turned its nose upward in pitch and began to pass overhead the Phoenix, but let fly with another splatter of disruptor fire that punched into the forward shields again. Behind it, the other five cruisers came on.

{{No damage,}} said Byte. {{Shields at one hundred per cent.}}

Jake frowned. "Not even a dent?"

{{Negative, Commander.}} Byte's digits were flying over the Ops station. {{Analysing. Stand by.}}

"Ready to fire phasers and torpedoes," snapped Procter. "Maximum area of effect calculated. Project total destruction of two enemy targets, minimum."

"Hold off on that!" Jake got to his feet and moved to Byte's shoulder. Something felt wrong - as magnificent as the Phoenix's defence systems were, her forward shields had now taken several hits without damage. He supposed it was possible, but it was still unlikely.

Byte glanced up at him. The android gestured to the data stream on its console. {{The Klingons are firing their disruptors at one-quarter to one-third strength, Commander. It is a deliberate setting.}}

On the main viewer, the leading K'vort-class cruiser passed over the Phoenix, and its two trailing companions belched forth a disruptor volley. Jake gripped the back of Byte's chair as the bolts hit the forward shields, rocking the bridge, but when he looked down again, the data stream showed no damage. "They're pulling their punches? What for?"

It was a rhetorical question. Nobody could read Is'toQ's mind. Jake turned to look at Procter at Tactical. "If we dropped our shields and started beaming up our people, they'd get a few hits in, right? How bad would it be?"

She shook her head. "I don't recommend it, Commander. All we'd have between us and damage to the primary hull would be our armour."

"Then that's what they're doing," said Jake, making fists with his hands and turning back to the main viewer. "They're slapping us around, making us keep up our guard, while Is'toQ gets on with beaming up the triticale. Dammit."

{{I estimate that the Leading Sword has beamed up a quarter-million tonnes of triticale from the Port Emily silos,}} reported Byte. {{That is one-quarter of the cargo we ferried to this system.}}

"Can we shoot back?" asked Procter. "I could modulate the phasers to a lower setting. We could start throwing a few punches of our own."

The Klingons had completed their encirclement of the Phoenix now. Two of the K'vort cruisers to fore, one to port, one to starboard, and one to dorsal. The four Birds of Prey swarmed around the nacelles like flies around meat.

Jake wracked his brains. Was it worth it to shoot back? The Klingons weren't trying to kill anyone on the Phoenix, just knock them around a little. Would that justify unleashing the Phoenix's offensive armament, whether to kill or cripple? If he did, if he gave that order, would he provoke the Klingons into fighting not to distract, but to kill? Could he live with himself if the crew of the Phoenix suffered fatal casualties in that battle?

"Awaiting your orders, Commander," prompted Procter.

Jake set his jaw before deciding on what his next order would be. Then, his voice full of command, he spoke.

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Location: Port Emily, Sherman's Planet
Scene: Steps of the city hall


Kane glanced up and down the street. There were people approaching - around a dozen men and women, Humans all as far as he could tell. He couldn't make out individual faces, but their forms were starkly illuminated by the streetlights as they converged on city hall from both sides. With growing alarm, he saw that a few of them were carrying clubs, and one of them hefted some kind of a long-barrelled rifle.

Kass and Edwards had disappeared from view, and so had Jasmine and Hobbs. Static echoed on the communications channel between the Phoenix and the surface. Eve, Chisum, and Sompek had gone indoors, and suddenly Kane felt isolated. He backed up a couple of steps, narrowing the distance between him and the main door of the building. There was no telling what a bunch of angry locals were capable of.

"Hey, Starfleet!" one of them - a burly bearded man armed with a heavy baseball bat and wearing jeans and a chequered shirt - called out to him. "Y'all stay right there - we wanna talk ta y'all!"

Kane stood his ground. "What is it?"

The group of people stopped at the base of the steps. The man with the rifle cocked it and held it with the barrel pointing downward to the ground. The other men and women looked on as the burly man, the one doing the talking, stepped forward. "There're Klingons on the streets!" the man exclaimed. "What're y'all doin' about it?"

Kane held up his hands placatingly. "The situation is under control. Please return to your homes."

The burly man laughed aloud. "Y'all've gotta be kiddin' me, Starfleet! We hear that they're trynna steal our grain, is'at so?"

Kane took a step toward them. "Klingon warriors are ferocious fighters. If you attack them they'll kill you."

"Mebbe we'll be the ones doin' the killin'!" yelled the man. "We're gonna defend our homes an' our livelihoods! An' if y'all won't help, then we'll kill them Klingon sons o' bitches ourselves! An' maybe you, if y'all git in our way!'

The others yelled out their defiance and agreement. The mood of the mini-mob had soured, and Kane could see the intent to violence in their eyes. He had never known a Klingon warrior to reject a challenge to combat when laid down, and if these people attacked them, there might be a bloodbath.

He tapped his communicator. "Kane to Dalziel."

[[Dalziel here. What's going on behind you, Captain?]]

"A mob is forming outside city hall," said Kane quickly. Glancing up and down the street, he could see doors opening and people stepping outside to see what was going on. It was a powderkeg waiting to be set off. "What's your status?"

[[Sompek's just about to make the broadcast. Governor Chisum has also decided to say a few words.]]

"Good." Kane looked around as the burly man stepped up onto the steps, waving his arms and brandishing his club in order to inspire his followers. "I'd like you to rejoin me, Lieutenant. This situation is delicate and I could use your backup in talking these people down."

[[On my way, Captain.]]

Kane cut the communication and waited gingerly, watching as another six or seven men and women joined the burgeoning mob. There were no Klingons in sight, and that was one thing to be grateful for, but if this mob got their way, civilian casualties could spiral out of control.

The events of the past few days were coming to a head now. He had no doubt that within the next couple of hours, this situation would be resolved one way or another. How much bloodshed would be involved might be out of his hands, but that didn't stop Kane from hoping.

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NRPG: We're in endgame now, everyone. How will each of your characters respond to their respective tasks?


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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