Game On

Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 8:11pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Edited on on May 26, 2014 @ 8:31pm

Mission: All Our Yesterdays
Location: Various
Tags: Kane, Mission

"GAME ON"

(Continued from "“It Just Takes Some Time...")

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Location: McKinley station, Earth orbit
Stardate: [2.140428.0400], twenty-three hours to launch
Scene: Kane's temporary office


"I'm telling you, Commander, there's more going on here than we know." Michael Turlogh Kane stood by the side of his desk and punched one fist into his other palm with an audible slap. "I'm not being told everything, I can feel it."

Commander Stonn, his Vulcan ExO, was sitting opposite him at the desk that was piled high with PADDs. Behind them though the viewport, the vast gulf of space yawned away like a lazy afternoon. The DISCOVERY had already been towed to Spacedock and her replacement, the USS JERICHO, was scheduled to begin her refit tomorrow morning.

The enigmatic Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware of your psionic abilities, Captain," he said.

Kane stopped. "What?"

"I was commenting on your declaration of being able to know the unknowable. Your certainty that Admiral Edgerton is not being forthcoming with all the details of our mission."

"No, Stonn," said Kane, "you told a joke. Or you were trying to." Deflated, he sat down. "Maybe I am being paranoid. It's not without cause, I assure you. Starfleet Intelligence and I have crossed paths several times in the past, and each time they have been less than willing to volunteer potentially critical mission information. I think that's happening here again."

"There are many potentialities regarding our upcoming mission, Captain Kane. I suggest we concentrate on what we do know, rather than expending energy hypothesising on what might be."

Kane nodded. "I know you're right, Commander." He paused for a moment, then looked at the Vulcan stright in the eye. "When I first met Edgerton in the Earthrise Hotel, he seemed to know of you personally."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. He referred to you as 'my devilish friend'. Then there's the fact that you've been assigned as my ExO without even the pretence of consultation with me. A paranoid man... well, Commander, a paranoid man might have cause to worry."

Stonn's angular features were inscrutable. "Captain Kane, I give you my word that you have no need for worry. I was assigned as the DISCOVERY's Executive Officer some weeks ago, before the new exploration mission was announced, before you had agreed to return as captain. I assume that I was selected from a shortlist of possible candidates. I further assume that I was selected to be the ExO of whoever was appointed as her captain."

"Meaning what, Stonn?"

"Meaning that if I was not your first officer, Captain Kane, then I would be the first officer of whoever would have been sitting in the seat opposite me. Respectfully, sir, the DISCOVERY was always going to be reactivated, with you or without you."

Kane looked out at the stars. They twinkled mockingly.

"Vulcans do not lie," said Stonn, putting the boot in.

Kane nodded. "Very well, Commander. Let's focus on the launch. Admiral Halle has decided that there will be no media fanfare to announce our departure, which makes a pleasant change for the past. We have the evening to ourselves. You're dismissed - report to spacedock tomorrow morning for boarding."

"Understood, Captain." Stonn stood up, turned on his heel, and left the room.

When the doors hissed shut, Kane exhaled deeply. The pressure was getting to him, he knew it. Almost a decade away from the centre seat and now he was about to plant his arse down on it again like he'd never left. Am I up to it, he wondered. I know the ship is ready. I know the crew are ready.

But am I ready?

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Captain's Log, Supplemental - with nineteen hours remaining until launch, I've finally admitted defeat. I'll never get through all these reports before I go aboard ship, and anyway, my mind's not on them anymore. I have no reason to distrust Admirals Halle and Edgerton, but this mission does not sit easy with me. Maybe it's nerves. What if I make a mistake again, what if I get everyone killed - no, I can't think like that. Instead, I can be proactive.

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Scene: Kane's temporary quarters - 18 hours to launch


"Computer, place a call to the office of the Secretary of Starfleet." Kane leaned back in his seat and smoothed his collar, running his thumb along the line of golden rank pips to make sure they were all straight.

The screen winked on. A thin-faced man dressed in a civilian suit filled up the picture. {{This is John Hiram, the Secretary's Chief of Staff. Captain Kane, this is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?}}

Kane decided to get straight to it. "Is Secretary Bonviva available?"

{{I'm afraid not, Captain. But I am certain the Secretary remembers you from your time in command of GATEWAY station.}}

"No doubt," said Kane icily. A decade was not long at all. "I am contacting the Secretary's office because of some... discrepancies regarding my reinstatement to the fleet and the DISCOVERY's new mission. Now, I've done some digging around and I can't find if it was even authorised by your office or not, but I am supposing that you would have some sort of a record, even if it was a passing one. Is it possible to see copies of any and all communiques between your office and Starfleet Command regarding the DISCOVERY's reactivation and my reinstatement?"

As he spoke, Hiram's forehead creased down into a frown. {{What discrepancies do you mean, Captain?}}

Kane rubbed his eyes. "It's a hunch at this stage," he said. "Something Admiral Halle told me in my mission briefing - that they wanted me, personally, because of my experience in the Beta Quadrant."

{{What's untoward about that?}}

"I've been out of the damn centre seat for eight years!" Kane snapped. "Whoever authorised the DISCOVERY's reactivation had a whole crew assigned to her before they even came looking for me. They had her refit already scheduled at McKinley. Logistics, supplies, parts, everything was already in place before they ever contacted me. It feels like this mission was going to be launched in any case - the fact that they got the starship commander they wanted being just an added bonus. I was in the fleet for eleven years and never saw efficiency like this. I don't feel like I'm working for the Federation on this one. Hence my request for copies of anything you have."

Hiram's eyes flickered, but his jaw was set straight. {{I'll notify the Secretary of your concerns, but be advised we cannot respond in less than twenty-four hours. Politics is a slow, deliberate game.}}

"In twenty-four hours the DISCOVERY will be out in the void," said Kane. "If you can give me anything, give it to me now. We can't go out there blind."

{{I'm not empowered to relase any information without the Secretary's approval. Given the bad blood between the two of you, it's more than my job's worth. I'm sorry, Captain Kane.}} To his credit, Hiram did sound apologetic.

Kane's anger boiled over. Barely controlling himself, he cut the connection. When Hiram's face disappeared from the viewer, he swept the monitor from the desk and shattered it into a thousand pieces.

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Location: Spacedock, high Earth orbit
Scene: DISCOVERY docking port, the next morning - 8 hours to launch


Spacedock. The enormous mushroom-shaped space station was over one hundred and fifty years old, but time had not diluted any of its power to impress. Over the years, it had been refitted and reconstructed many times. Now, in the twenty-fifth century, it was a vast monolith hanging over the Earth. Fully six miles in height, it was clearly visible to the naked eye from the surface, silhouetted against the blue daylight sky that a young Michael Turlogh Kane spent hours staring up at. Oddly, he had never been reassured by the sight of it. It had always seemed oddly Damoclean, a reminder that a tenuous peace was ultimately maintained in the stars through a military presence.

Now, thirty years and a host of horrors later, Kane was returning to where it all began for him. The DISCOVERY launched from Spacedock twelve years ago when he was a Lieutenant Commander and her newly-appointed First Officer. She always returned here each time she came back from the long night. In a way, Spacedock was home.

The docking port to shuttlebay two opened, and Commodore Vashen came out. The Andorian's ice-blue skin contrasted starkly with his red uniform. He was right on time - the yard master's inspection tour of the DISCOVERY was concluded, and command was now ready to be transferred to an operational crew. "Captain Kane," he said flatly.

"Commodore," said Kane. Saluting was outmoded in Starfleet, so he inclined his head to show respect for the higher rank. "Permission to come aboard?"

Vashen gestured him forward. Behind him, several officers were lined up in an honour guard. "She's your ship, Captain. Permission granted."

Kane hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. His footstep spanned eight years, and a moment later he was standing on board the USS DISCOVERY once again.

Nothing had changed. The shuttlebay was just the same as he remembered. The MARPLE and the WOLFE were there in the background, parked amongst the other personnel shuttles. He remembered that their predecessors, the GABRIEL and the DOYLE, lay shattered and wrecked on the surface of alien worlds in the Beta Quadrant. Three new Runabouts took up the rest of the space.

A lot of history aboard this ship. Ten thousand years of it.

Vashen handed him a PADD, breaking his reverie. Kane activated it and read out the text. "To Captain Michael Turlogh Kane. You are hereby requested and required to assume command of the USS DISCOVERY as of this date. Signed Arto Halle, Rear Admiral, Starfleet Chief of Operations." He turned to the Andorian yard master to complete the timeless formality. "I relieve you, sir."

"I stand relieved," answered Vashen. "Computer, transfer all command codes to Captain Michael Turlogh Kane."

[[Command codes transferred. USS DISCOVERY now under the command of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane.]]

Kane shook hands with Vashen. "Thank you for everything your people have done." He turned back to the honour guard, seeing Stonn. "Commander."

"Captain. Welcome aboard."

Kane passed down the line, stopping at another commander in gold. "Your name?"

"Jacob Crichton, sir. We served together on -"

" - the GATEWAY," nodded Kane. "I saw your service record. It's good to have you aboard, Commander. Is the engine room ready for a captain's inspection?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Inspection will be one hour after launch," said Kane, passing down the line. He sized up the new purple-eyed SecTac, murmured a greeting to the new flame-haired CMO, but stopped dead when he came to the android.

"Lieutenant Byte?" he asked.

The android cocked its head at him. it said. The voice was soft, not threatening, and its sculpted features were gentle too, although not quite human. Its skin had too gray a hue, its eye pupils were solid black. On the left side of its neck, a dataport was clearly visible.

"You are one of the Maddox-type androids?" Kane said.

Byte was looking right at him. The effect was strange. It was like talking to another person who was quite plainly not a person. Even aliens looked and sounded like organic beings. Everything about the android seemed clinical and cold.

Kane nodded. "Are you sentient?"

it said.

"You're going to be an interesting shipmate, Mister Byte," said Kane with a smile. He moved on, passing a Trill CSciO before stopping at a junior officer. "Name?"

"Russ BaShen," came the answer. "Ship's flight control officer, sir." Kane looked him up and down, recalling the personnel file, before moving on.

At the end of the line, Isador waited. The diminutive Preserver stood in her perennial white jumpsuit, regarding him unblinkingly from her smooth-featured face. "Captain Kane."

Kane smiled warmly, but held his hands behind his back. Isador did not like to be touched. "Isador. It is good to see you again. Thank you for agreeing to join this mission."

"The years are falling away like soft rain," she said. "Life is finite even for me. Before death takes me, I feel the call of the stars once again. Perhaps this time we will find some trace of where my people went. Perhaps this time I will find a place to call home."

"I know something of the loneliness you must feel, Isador," said Kane quietly. "You are among friends here, never forget that."

Having reached the end of the line, he turned around again to speak to them all. "In eight hours this ship will launch and we will set a course for the Beta Quadrant in the outer arm of our galaxy. If you've never been there, then know that the Beta Quadrant is what astronomers call a 'dead zone'. Distances between star systems are greater there. The suns are all old, and their lights are fading. Soon, they will all go out. The chances of finding inhabited worlds are few and far between. We will be stalking the graveyards of the galaxy, picking our way through the rubble of civilisations that have come and gone millenia before us. It is a place full of horrors and wonders in equal measure. The Federation has some friends there, but we have a job to do first." He started to march up the line again. "A manned communications relay at the coreward edge of Federation space has picked up a Starfleet transponder code from deep within the Beta Quadrant. As far as can be determined, it seems to be the reboot code for a Federation starship's main computer. Starfleet cannot explain what is happening, as all starships that have ever visited the Beta Quadrant have been accounted for. They picked us to go out there and see what's going on. Our journey time to the source of the signal will be almost two weeks at high transwarp. We will be making a brief stop at the Suvin system, the listening post that originally detected the signal. Use that time to familiarise yourself with your shipmates, and find your place amongst our crew. All of you have a job to do. I expect that you will all perform your duty to the *highest* standard." He looked around for a moment to let his words sink in. "Take your stations. Dismissed."

As the honour guard filed out, Commodore Vashen disembarked. He stood in the docking port and activated the controls. Slowly, steadily, the great circular bulkhead rolled into place, sealing the DISCOVERY in.

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Location: USS DISCOVERY
Scene: Bridge - time to launch, 2 minutes


The bridge, too, was the same as ever. To be sure, they had installed a computer upgrade and the centre seat was different. But the general design - the Ops and FCO stations to the front, the command chairs behind, the SecTac, bridge Engineering and Science stations swept up higher on a dais behind, remained the same.

Everything was in place. His personal effects were stowed away in quarters that invited him back like he had never been gone. Everywhere aboard, the two-hundred-and-thirty-two souls on board moved to their tasks.

No more time for goodbyes. No more time for loved ones left behind. For Kane, there was no more time to go home.

"Stations!" he barked sternly, watching with satisfaction as the bridge crew smoothly occupied their assigned posts. So, it was all beginning again. A new job, a new career stretched forth ahead of him; the road not travelled. For a moment, his heart panged for Thomond's green hills; then the pull of the void asserted itself, and he focused on the matter at hand. "Activate the main computer. Bring life support systems online. All systems to full operating capacity." His heart leapt; he swore he could *feel* the DISCOVERY straining at her leash, anxious to get back amongst the stars, to plough the furrows of heaven once again.

Russ BaShen's hands flew over the controls like magic. "All systems active and ready for launch."

Kane nodded. "Bridge to Engineering."

[Engineering. Crichton here.]]

"Commander, bring transwarp power online and report when ready for launch."

From outside, the DISCOVERY's four nacelles flared bluely into life, churning with nascent power. A thousand lights, like candles in windows, blinked on. Her registration - USS DISCOVERY NCC-12001 - was illuminated.

[[Engineering to Bridge. All power systems online. Transwarp at your command.]]

"Thank you, Commander." Kane turned to where Stonn and Isador were sitting in seats that flanked his own.

"Ready, Captain," Stonn said, in answer to Kane's silent question.

Kane turned to main viewer. The moment was at hand. Ahead, the enormous space doors were already parting. Beyond lay the vast cold gulf of space; in the distance, alien stars, unknown worlds. "Detach all moorings. Aft thrusters forty per cent, port and starboard to station-keeping. Take us out."

In a series of small explosions, the moorings to Spacedock were broken, and the DISCOVERY was free. She glided through the space doors out into eternity.

"We have detached from Spacedock," reported Russ. "DISCOVERY is maneuvering on her own power."

"Starbase Control, request permission to launch," said Kane crisply.

The reply was immediate. [[ Permission granted, DISCOVERY, you are clear for deep space navigation. Good luck, and come home soon.]]

Kane allowed himself one small smile. "DISCOVERY acknowledges. Conn, set course for the Sulvin system and engage at best speed."

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Location: Spacedock
Scene: Viewing Area


The USS DISCOVERY, ablaze with the pulsing of her nacelles, turned smoothly, angling herself for transwarp speed away from Spacedock and into deep space. Then, palpably, it happened. DISCOVERY seemed to stiffen as her intertial dampers automatically activated in response to the sheer volume of power building up in her nacelles. Within her warp core, antimatter, in all its savage rage, was released from the Bussard collectors and expelled by volumes into the matter reactor - in a surge of power, the ship strained, eager to leap once again into the stars. Suddenly she snapped forward, like a rubber band being fired from the hand, in a flash of blue light, and was gone; the splash of light in the void of space the only signal that she had jumped into warp.

A thousand voices from Spacedock yelled in the exultation of the moment; their cheers floated into the ether, swallowed up by the wake of the departed ship.

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NRPG: Game On!


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS DISCOVERY


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's 'The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

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