Foreshadowing

Posted on Oct 23, 2015 @ 8:47pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Civil War

"FORESHADOWING"

(Continued from "Closure")

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Captain's Log, supplemental - it seems my life has become one long round of administrative meetings. I confess that I occasionally wish that we were far away from all this, in some wild, unknown part of the galaxy. But in the meantime, our preparations for an uncertain conflict go on and on...

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Location: USS Phoenix, orbiting Elandipole IV
Stardate: [2.15]1023.1915
Scene: Deck 1, saucer section - conference room


Along with the other meeting attendees, Michael Turlogh Kane stood up respectfully as Vice-President Sardak swept into the room. The Vulcan paused a moment in greeting, before taking his seat at the head of the table. As everyone else sat down, Kane looked around. In attendance were Marie-Claire Martine, Siobhan Reardon, and the new Marine Commandant, Alexander Towers. Towers was a tall, muscular man with a rigid bearing and a clipped, military air, and had not said much since his arrival.

The Phoenix seemed to be turning into the location of choice for meetings that involved the cabinet. This suited Kane just fine - it meant that he was likely to be invited to any conference, which made it easier to keep tabs on what everyone was up to. It wasn't like he suspected anyone of duplicity, but politicians were all about politicking, and the military were often their pawns. After the debacle of K-60, Kane was determined not to be a politician's pawn ever again.

Sardak withdrew his arms from the folds of his voluminous brown robe, and produced a PADD. Activating it, he shot a glance around the table. "President P'Trell is currently engaged on a tour of the Pendragon. In any case, his presence is not required. This is a routine meeting to keep us up to date on the fleet's movements in this system." He looked at Martine. "Madam Secretary?"

Martine checked her own PADD. "Our automated in-system sensor probe network is now active. Using Elandipole's eighth planet as a central anchor point, the probes will take orbital routes in various directions, forming a sensor web that will give us several seconds' advance warning of the arrival of any incoming starship from warpspace."

"Good," nodded Sardak. "The President will be pleased to hear it."

Siobhan leaned forward. "May I ask if a decision has been made regarding long-term strategy?"

Sardak raised a eyebrow. "Explain, Captain."

"We've been in this system now for several weeks," said Siobhan. "During that time, we have reorganised our personnel throughout the fleet, we have successfully completed construction of the new Shanty Town, and we have consolidated and recuperated our forces." She looked around the table, as if seeking support from Martine, Kane and Towers. "Yet here we are. We do nothing. We talked about carrying the fight to Edgerton, but we're still here. The fleet is ready, Mister Vice-President."

"Ready for what, Captain Reardon?" countered Sardak. "War? Bloodshed? Make no mistake, that is what you are suggesting. As you Terrans say, this is a long game we are playing. The President has decided that for now, we will wait."

Kane decided to speak up. "I'm inclined to agree with Captain Reardon. I can't speak for every starship in the fleet, but I feel that the crew of the Phoenix are ready to lead this fight. A diplomatic solution is out of the question. We need to strike."

Sardak shook his head. "No, Captain Kane. The President is clear. He wants to wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Siobhan incredulously.

"I have confidence and loyalty in President P'Trell's leadership," said Sardak, skilfully deflecting the question. "Do you, Captain Reardon?"

Put on the spot, Siobhan gritted her teeth and sat back. "Of course, sir."

"Good." Sardak deactivated his PADD. "Then this meeting is concluded. Captain Kane, please remain here. I have something to discuss with you."

Kane and Siobhan shared a glance as she, Martine, and Towers got up and left the room. He could empathise with her a lot, but he also saw the other side of the coin. In any case, the decision was out of his hands. As Commander-in-Chief, Thoris had the final say on what the fleet did and when it did it. He dutifully sat up straight as the doors closed, leaving him alone with Sardak. "Yes, Mister Vice-President?"

The Vulcan pushed his arms back into his long sleeves. "Captain Kane, the President received a message from a Terran journalist named Aleksey Nikitin yesterday."

"I've never heard of him," frowned Kane.

"I did not expect you would have. He was working on an expose of the Neo-Essentialists within Starfleet while you were going through the Board of Inquiry following your return from system K-60. They sent one of their assassins after him, but he managed to escape. However, when the Federation Council voted to give Edgerton dictatorial powers, Nikitin was arrested and sent to a prison camp. The Demeter rescued him when we fled the Sol system."

Kane shrugged. The story was no different to many others he'd heard in the past two years. "What of him?"

Sardak leaned forward. "The President is considering Mister Nikitin for the role of Press Secretary. The media has never gone away, Captain Kane, and if this conflict should develop into a war of 'hearts and minds', then it is critical that we are able to deliver an anti-Edgerton message to the peoples of the Federation."

"I see." Kane didn't want to say the word 'propaganda', which was had jumped immediately into his mind. "What does this have to do with me?"

"The President has directed that Mister Nikitin should be embedded aboard the fleet's capital ship, where he can begin setting up a new FedCom network, that will carry our message to the heart of the - "

Kane held up a hand, cutting him off. "A journalist? Aboard the Phoenix?"

"Yes. It will be a medium-term situation. The President envisages the Phoenix both leading the fleet and acting as a focal point for political resistance towards the Neo-Essentialists."

"Does he," said Kane nastily.

"He does," said Sardak, nonplussed. "And, Captain Kane, lest you forget, I remind you that this is what the President has directed." He emphasised the last word heavily.

Like Siobhan a minute before, Kane gritted his teeth. Suddenly, civilian authority didn't seem half as good as it had a few days ago. Waiting here doing nothing at Elandipole was one thing, but having some arsehole journalist come aboard the ship and start shining lights in everyone's faces was not something Kane could easily stomach. He'd have to lay down the law hard, make sure that this Aleksey Nikitin didn't go anywhere he shouldn't, didn't bother anyone he shouldn't, and didn't disrupt the smooth running of the ship. He looked back at Sardak. "I want you to tell President P'Trell that I'm unhappy about this decision, but that I will obey my orders."

Sardak nodded. The Vulcan's face showed no emotion as he stood up. "Good. I will have Mister Nikitin report to you in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting for him," said Kane darkly.

Sardak glanced at him, attempting to read his features, but Kane kept his expression perfectly neutral. "Until next time, Captain Kane," the Vulcan nodded, before turning to leave.

Kane settled back into his seat, willing the shadows to come and shroud him. Then he remembered the mountain of PADDs on his ready room desk, and his mood only darkened further.

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Location: USS Pendragon, orbiting E-4 nearby
Scene: Artifact Bay


Peter Aspinall had to admit that the tour was going as well as could be expected. Since wheedling his way aboard, Thoris P'Trell had been attentive, polite, and suitably impressed by everything he'd seen aboard the Pendragon, praising the crew's courage and professionalism on several occasions. A cynical man might have become suspicious of Thoris' exultations, but on the few times that Peter had turned his telepathic ability on the President, he had not felt anything except an almost childish exuberance that blotted out anything else the Andorian might have been feeling.

They had seen the bridge, where Izzy had surprised and delighted Thoris by flushing her skin the same colour as his, and been to Engineering, where Thoris had asked several questions about the capabilities and technologies that kept the Pendragon moving. Peter had answered to the best of his ability, giving out the basic responses but not elaborating on the intricacies, but there was one bridge he was going to have to cross, and now the moment had arrived.

As they stepped inside the converted cargo bay that held the chronoton artifact, Thoris P'Trell looked on it with wonder. Emanating from wagging tongues on the Phoenix, word had slowly spread around the fleet of the artifact's existence. On the positive side, it had given an explanation to everyone as to why they had ended up at Elandipole, but on the negative side, it seemed like everyone wanted to see the thing. Peter was irritated from evading requests from other fleet captains for tours of the Pendragon, but a Presidential tour was one he couldn't get out of.

Thoris slowly walked to the artifact, running his eyes over the black marbelised facade and its thousands of rainbow veins that ebbed and flowed over the black surface. "Amazing..." he breathed. His questing fingers touched the low-level forcefield holding the artifact in place, and he started with a chuckle.

Peter put his hands to his temples and gave them a quick rub. The energy field surrounding the artifact always gave him a headache if he was around it for any length of time.

Thoris turned to him. "This is the device that teleports people through space and time?"

Peter nodded. "Yes. Not at first, though. It takes time to attune itself to new surroundings."

"How much time?" asked Thoris.

"We don't know exactly," said Peter. "There's too much we don't know about it. It took almost three years for us to trigger a jump once the artfiact woke up. Now that it's awake, however, it seems to be attuned to us. The second jump - the one through time to this stardate - was much easier to trigger."

Thoris was nodding. "Presumably several telepaths could interface and attune to the energy field at a much faster rate than one person?"

Peter shrugged. "Again, we don't know. We've never had that many people in contact with the artifact at once. It's too dangerous."

Thoris was holding his hand up to the forcefield, tracing little rivulets through the energy and watching the rainbow veins follow his finger. "There is nothing to prevent the artifact from being moved to another location?" he asked suddenly.

Peter looked at him in alarm. "What do you mean?"

The President turned to face him. "The Pendragon is a potentially unsecure location for an artifact of this power. Part of me wants to bury it at the bottom of one of Elandipole's deepest ocean trenches. If Edgerton ever got his hands on this thing, we'd all be dead before we were ever born. Now tell me please, Captain Aspinall - if it was ever decided to move the artifact to another location, would it just be a simple matter of shutting down the forcefield and beaming it out?"

Peter's headache was getting worse. It was making it more difficult to concentrate. He made a mental note to visit sickbay after Thoris was gone. "Yes, Mister President. But there's no reason to relocate it."

"No reason yet," said Thoris.

They lapsed into silence, a pit of new worry opening in Peter's stomach.

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Location: USS Century, en route to Elandipole (closer than you think)
Scene: Deck 1, captain's ready room


Commander Ronald Heydrich entered the ready room to find Subject Red standing up with his hands behind his back, looking out the viewport into the blurred starfield. Nearby, the view slightly distorted by the unimaginable speed they were travelling at, were several other starships, the vanguard of the Neo-Essentialist fleet now winging its way to Elandipole.

Heydrich stepped forward. "Admiral?" he said. "I have several fleet progress reports for you."

Subject Red didn't turn around. His bulk blocked most of the view out of the viewport, and although age had begun to make him stoop, he was still tall enough to be intimidating. His voice was rich and deep. "Do I have to read them, Commander, or can you summarise?"

Heydrich suppressed a feeling of annoyance. When the rebel fleet was destroyed and the Phoenix was burning in space, Subject Red's usefulness to the Neo-Essentialist cause would have come to an end. Nobody would miss one old man. "The reports themselves are routine. The fleet is ready to attack as soon as we arrive at Elandipole."

"Attack, Commander? We'll do no such thing."

Surprised, Heydrich stepped forward again. At the sound of his footfall, Subject Red turned around, and Heydrich stopped dead as his commander's alien eyes bored into his. "But Admiral, we have been ordered to - "

"There are many ways to neutralise an enemy, Commander Heydrich. Killing does not have to be the first option. In fact, I would rather it be the last."

A wellspring of outrage bubbled up inside Heydrich's heart. "Sir, you are misinterpreting Admiral Edgerton's orders! I have no doubt that he wants the rebel fleet destroyed! I thought you knew that too!"

Subject Red thumped the nearby tabletop with a meaty fist. "You're out of line, Commander! I am well aware of Admiral Edgerton's orders and I will obey them, but we do not kill our fellow Starfleet officers just because they are misguided! Is that understood!"

Mollified, Heydrich backed down. "Yes, sir," he said. For now, he added to himself as an afterthought.

"When we arrive at Elandipole, it is my intention to present terms to the enemy," Subject Red rumbled. "If they surrender, so much the better. If they do not comply with our ultimatum - well, perhaps then you will have the battle you seek, Commander."

Heydrich nodded. "I understand, Admiral. We will arrive at Elandipole within a standard day."

Subject Red turned back to the viewing port. "Time enough," he said quietly. "Dismissed."

Heydrich turned and left the old man alone with his weakness. There would be a battle at Elandipole alright, one that would result in the total destruction of the USS Phoenix and everyone aboard her. Heydrich would see to it somehow. The rebellion would be snuffed out, then the real work of empire-building could begin.

Federation First.

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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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