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The Star Eagle Adventures IV: All The Sinners, Saints

Some interesting negative reactions here but perhaps not entirely surprising.

I personally don't think Bane is an idiot and it was certainly not my intention to portray him as such. I do believe that he shows a certain naiveté which stems from the fact that he has some genuine feelings for Star as well as sympathy for her. He wants to believe that she has changed, that she is trying to make up for her past and that everybody who refuses to give her a chance is wrong about her.

He has also begun to have serious doubts about Starfleet's mission to Tiaita which is after all being led by Admiral Schwarzkopf, a man he finds infinitely more suspicious than Star. At this point Bluefin's crew will not or cannot get involved and Star is the only other option.

Star on the other hand is an immensely conflicted character who appears to be wanting to make up for her past mistakes but now finds herself in the unfortunate situation of having to betray the people she cares about in order to "do the right thing".

There is plenty of story left here and it'll be interesting to see if the reader's perceptions of the characters will change over time. If you'll keep reading that is.
 
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Bane is by no means an idiot--just someone who is young and relatively inexperienced and he's leading with his heart. In many ways, he deserves praise for his stance--but it probably will cost him...perhaps this is the reason he is still a lieutenant several years after this incident...

As for Star...I agree with you--she is a terribly conflicted character who has made some bad choices in the past and wants to make them up. In many ways, I see her as someone who has dug herself into a hole, and try as she might, she can't dig herself out. If anything, I think she might well be a tragic figure.
 
Bane is by no means an idiot--just someone who is young and relatively inexperienced and he's leading with his heart. In many ways, he deserves praise for his stance--but it probably will cost him...perhaps this is the reason he is still a lieutenant several years after this incident...

^ That's it in a nutshell. By 2377, Bane has two strikes against him - this episode with Star, and covering up his brother's involvement with the Orion Syndicate. One more strike and he can kiss making Lt. Commander goodbye. Bane is basically an honest, decent guy and a competent officer. He needs to mature a bit.
 
“Admiral Schwarzkopf, may I present Captain Michael Owens.”

Owens stood from his chair, walked around his desk and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Admiral.”

Schwarzkopf smiled broadly and shook the captain’s hand. “Please, we’ll be working together quite closely, I’m sure. Call me Mel,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes.

Michael Owens hesitated just a split second in which an expression of confusion crossed his face. It was instantly dispelled. “Very well, Mel,” he said and pointed to the chair opposite his. “Can I get you something?”

“I’ll have some mint tea, if you don’t mind. No sugar,” he replied and sat.

“Certainly. Commander,” he said addressing his Vulcan acting first officer, “why don’t you have a seat as well?”

Xylion nodded curtly and took the chair next to the admiral.

Owens ordered the mint tea and a tonic water for himself–he already knew Xylion would prefer no beverage–then placed the tea cup in front of the admiral before sitting behind his desk again. He didn’t miss the admiral’s discomfort as he slightly adjusted in his chair.

Schwarzkopf did not appear much older than he was, in fact some might have considered him to be younger thanks to his long black hair which he wore openly and reached just passed his shoulders. It was perhaps not the most commanding hairstyle Owens had ever seen. In fact very little about Mel Schwarzkopf appeared impressive and even his friendly mannerisms seemed somewhat forced.

Ever since Leva had brought attention to the man’s ambiguous past Owens had decided to read up on him. He had been the captain of the Galaxy-class Heracles for some eight years, accumulating a great number of commendations and medals for his dedicated service that often enough went above and beyond the call of duty. Schwarzkopf could have been very much on his way to be named among the great legends of Starfleet had it not been for an incident a year ago. The official reports were not entirely clear on what had transpired but rumor had it that he had rushed into an apparently dangerous situation entirely unprepared and as a consequence nearly lost his ship.

TheBluefin, the border cutter that had also been drafted for their current mission had played a vital part in that episode as well. The official reports on their involvement had been sketchy but it was said that it had been Akinola and his Border Service crew which had prevented the situation from becoming a complete disaster.

Owens didn’t know if he had lost his command due to that episode. Regardless, he had made admiral afterwards and Owens was certain that not everyone was entirely happy about this, Schwarzkopf himself possibly amongst them.

The admiral sipped his tea and found the Botticelli painting which Owens had moved to his ready room. “That is a beautiful piece of art you have there, Michael.”

Owens smirked. “It’s currently on loan to us.”

“Most impressive,” Schwarzkopf said and studied it a moment longer, before he placed his tea cup back on the saucer and faced the captain. “I will not take too much of your time. I have plenty of important work to do still and I’m certain you are equally eager to get started.”

Owens nodded.

“As you can appreciate time is a factor. Quite frankly Starfleet isn’t too happy about having you out here while the Dominion seems to make new inroads into Federation territory every day. Thankfully I’ve been able to convince many of those stubborn folks at Command that we need to think of alternative means to win this war. Trying to match Dominion military power is simply not a realistic solution.”

“It hasn’t worked too well so far.”

“Exactly,” the admiral said. “What we have here is a chance to not only bolster our dwindling resources but also lay the foundations for a deadly strike against Cardassia. And if Cardassia falls the entire Dominion war effort in the Alpha Quadrant will crumble along with it.”

Owens noticed an almost imperceptible flicker of doubt in Xylion’s Vulcan eyes. He wasn’t surprised, he himself was not entirely convinced that Schwarzkopf’s plan had a great chance of success. But he understood something else. The Federation was becoming more desperate with each passing day. Considering only options with a guaranteed success rate was a luxury nobody could afford anymore. Maybe, just maybe this unlikely plan was their one chance to turn this war around. Schwarzkopf certainly seemed to believed so.

“Make no mistake, Captain, this will not be easy. It will take dedication and hard work. We must also honor our agreements with the Tiaitan who have agreed–by accepting great peril for themselves I might add–to make this possible. Tiaita is by no means a perfect world and a lot of the customs and traditions will seem strange to you but they are a good people who have chosen to make their mark in the intergalactic community.”

“Admiral, if I may,” said Xylion who clearly had no intention whatever to call him by his given name.

Schwarzkopf nodded for him to proceed.

“I certainly understand the larger implications of this mission and its long term goals but you must be aware that we have set the Tiaitans on a course towards Federation membership with little investigation into their culture or history.”

“I’m fully cognizant of this, Commander,” the admiral said only slightly masking his annoyance. “I am the person who has drafted the treaty we have signed and therefore know exactly what we have put on the table. So far the Tiaitans have made no overtures towards full membership and it would certainly be too early to discuss these possibilities. But as I said, they are a remarkable people and if they would choose some day to join us, I think we would be richer for it.”

Owens did feel that Schwarzkopf was sounding just a little bit too proud of the Tiaitans. He spoke of them with a fondness a father would hold for his child. “From your reports I have gathered that they still require a large amount of assistance.”

“That is correct and us providing it is a small price to pay for what they have given us in return,” Schwarzkopf said.

“I am more than happy to help these people with whatever humanitarian assistance they require. I guess I’ve just been curious what exactly our role here is,” said Owens. After all the supplies for the Tiaitas were already here.

“Mostly, Michael, it is going to be organizational. That is what is missing here. To be frank the supply convoy is not ideally situated for this task and there have been complaints from the local government that supplies have not been delivered when and where they have been requested. I need you to work with government representatives and make sure they get what they need swiftly. A lot of Tiaitans depend on it.”

“Admiral, from what I’ve seen so far some of the problems might stem from the government’s reluctance to allow us direct access to the planet,” said the Vulcan. “I estimate that we will increase efficiency by thirty-eight percent if we could negotiate direct planetary access.”

Schwarzkopf didn’t seem to like the idea.

“Admiral … Mel,” Owens corrected himself and quickly noticed that he didn’t like the sound of it. “I have to agree with my first officer. We need to get a first-hand impression of these people and what they need. It would also be prudent to learn more about a planet which might become a long-term ally or possibly even a candidate for membership.”

“The treaty has been signed, Captain,” said Schwarzkopf quickly, sounding defensive and his eyes sparkling with a flash of impatience. “I would not have pushed for this if I didn’t think these people were ready for such a commitment.”

Xylion came to Owens’ defense. “Sir, the captain did not mean to imply that you have not carefully studied the Tiaitans before considering the treaty. We merely believe that we would be in a better position to assist their needs if we were allowed a more direct role.”

Schwarzkopf didn’t say anything for a few moments and Owens had the distinct impression that he needed the time to calm himself. His eyes found the Birth of Venus again and apparently that did the trick. “I will discuss this with Prias Oldar, the head of the government,” he said. “There is another matter I would like to discuss with you,” he added and then looked at the acting first officer. “If you could excuse us for a moment, Commander.”

The Vulcan nodded and left the ready room.

Schwarzkopf waited patiently for the doors to close shut behind Xylion before continuing. “You have no doubt noticed by now the presence of the Border Service vessel.”

“The Bluefin,” Owens said.

Schwarzkopf nodded. “Her presence here was not my decision and I have good cause to believe that she was sent here for other reasons than to assist with Tiaitans.”

Owens couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “What other possible reason could she be here for?”

The admiral considered that for a moment. “I don’t know. But I’m sure you agree that ordinarily you wouldn’t rely on the Border Service to assist in planetary relief missions.”

“Ordinarily, I would,” Owens said. “But these are hardly ordinary times. Besides, I was under the impression the Bluefin is also here as an escort for the freighter fleet.”

“You may be right and I hope my concerns are unwarranted. But now that you are here I’d rather not involve Akinola and his crew. I just wanted to make you aware of the situation.”

“Understood,” Owens said. In reality he didn’t. He had no idea why Schwarzkopf could have been so concerned about the small border cutter. Owens didn’t know Akinola and had not had the chance to speak to the man. Considering how busy he would be over the next few days and how concerned Schwarzkopf was about involving the Bluefin, he doubted he would get the chance.

Schwarzkopf on the other hand had dealt with Akinola before and Owens could only assume that he had made his decision based on their previous encounter.

The admiral stood. “It was good to meet you, Michael. I should return to the surface at once.”

“It was nice meeting you as well,” Owens said. “And please remember to reiterate our request for direct access to the government. I believe it would be in the best interest of the people of Tiaita.”

“I will do my best to convince them that it would be,” said Schwarzkopf and then smiled as if to show Owens that they had reached a comfortable working arrangement during their short meeting.

Owens wasn’t quite there yet. “Commander Xylion, please report to my ready room.”

The Vulcan had apparently been waiting outside as he entered momentarily.

“I’m certain I’ll be seeing you again soon,” said Schwarzkopf and then turned to the Vulcan. “If you would show me back to the transporter room now.”

Xylion nodded, exchanged a brief glance with the captain and then lead the admiral out of the room.

Owens sat down behind his desk only after they had left the room. He couldn’t suppress a sigh coming over his lips. The meeting had not gone as smoothly as he had hoped and Owens was sure that Schwarzkopf had been equally uncomfortable, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. He had even felt a certain sense of resentfulness coming from the admiral which Owens couldn’t quite account for. Perhaps to some degree Schwarzkopf had felt so ill at ease because he longed for those times when he had sat in Owens’ chair. He had noticed the glimmer in the admiral’s eyes when he had first set foot in the his ready room.

As Owens turned to look out of the viewport and caught a glance of the sandy-brown planet and the Bluefin in a parallel orbit he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Schwarzkopf’s apprehension then met the eye.

***
 
Good segment - nicely done meeting between Schwarzkopf, Owens and Xylion. I'm still trying to figure out the Admiral's agenda, but I'm pretty sure it will lead to sorrow for all involved.

Owens and Xylion are wise to be suspicious. Unfortunately, they don't have enough information to intervene . . . yet!
 
Schwarzkopf is beginning to remind me more and more of John C. Fremont--he's not at all lacking in courage or initiative and he's a very personable and charismatic individual who wants everyone to like him--it's just that he shouldn't be put in charge of anything more than a scout ship. He's being duped and he doesn't even realize it--a man who does not learn from his mistakes.
 
Interesting meeting. I noticed they are still carrying that priceless work of art around. Hope nobody starts shooting. Owens needs to talk to Joseph-before its too late.
 
I fear all sides in this scenario are being played. And the real people behind this will cause trouble for everyone.
 
FOUR



It had been so easy for the young junior lieutenant to be added to the away team that he wondered why he had never tried it before.

Mostly this was thanks to DeMara Deen.

Lif Culsten had wanted to join the away mission to the surface of Tiaita as soon as he had found out that the local government had acquiesced to Captain Owens’ request.

As acting first officer, Xylion was to lead this away mission consisting out of Nora Laas, Doctor Ashley Wenera and DeMara Deen. Culsten whose command ambitions were well known on board had made careful inquires into the possibility of joining the away team in order to, as he had put it: ‘gain valuable insights and experiences in the execution of planet-bound field operations.’

Deen had initially laughed out loud when he had said this, much to his scorn. She had then quickly made it clear that she was only amused by his overly intricate manner of saying that he wanted to be included in an away mission. She had willingly suggested that he take her spot and had even put in a good word with Xylion.

The young helmsman who had studied every single report ever filed on Tiaita–it turned out to be a lot less than he had expected–was utterly surprised with what he found when he actually materialized along with the others in the center of Tiaita’s capital.

The reports, and their mission parameters for that matter, indicated that the planet was close to ruin, experiencing widespread *[FONT=&quot] famine [/FONT] that had caused hundreds of thousands to die of hunger, a failing economy that left a vast majority of inhabitants without work and a severely damaged infrastructure which struggled to meet the needs of a population stretched thinly over thousands of miles of two desert continents.

He had not expected to arrive in a city with all the glitz and glamor of contemporary Paris, France.

Dar Nu Al was as impressive as any city Lif Culsten had ever seen. The cobblestone streets were clean and in impeccable condition, the cityscape was dominated by marvelous buildings topped with golden domes which shimmered under the bright and hot sun and the denizens were dressed in clean and colorful robes which regardless of the heat covered their entire bodies.

Their arrival was treated like a great festival.

The streets were blocked off and people of all ages were crammed onto the sidewalks to get a glimpse of these aliens visiting their world. Streamers of various colors decorated the houses and some people, Culsten discovered with some surprise, were waving Federation flags.

While the away team walked down one of the streets, a formation of seven military aircrafts streamed by overhead in close formation and releasing thousands of tiny styrofoam specks, which made it appear as if it was snowing in the middle of summer. A somewhat alien and perhaps even a bit disturbing appearance to some members of Eagle’s away team.

Culsten had seen old photographs of soldiers on Earth coming back home after a war who were being celebrated in similar fashion.

“It is like we’re being greeted as liberators,” he said to his fellow crewmembers.

Wenera scowled at him.

He shrugged his shoulder innocently. “What?”

Most amazing perhaps was the fact that the crowds were entirely quiet. There were no noisy jubilations of any kind. Instead everybody watched the curious aliens with silent awe. Or perhaps it was apprehension. Culsten couldn’t quite tell. He knew from the reports that they were not the first aliens to visit this world but they were the first to be so openly exhibited, for that was what it felt like.

At least fifty black-clad soldiers took part in the away team’s procession through the city and perhaps it was their presence, along with their weapons, which gave the crowd such pause. They wore visored helmets under their dark hoods, completely concealing their faces and somewhat reminding Culsten of villains in a below-average holo-adventure.

None other than the leader of the military himself, a First Marshal Trelt-Ait, was leading them through the city. He didn’t wear a helmet, dispelling any notion Culsten might have held that there were no faces under those masks. In fact the marshal appeared to be a quite pleasant man and their Bajoran security chief had easily struck up a conversation.

“So you are saying that your culture is divided into two castes?” asked Nora Laas. She was quite interested in this partly because she knew that her own people had once followed a rigid caste system.

The soldier didn’t seem to like her choice of words however. “It is not a caste system,” he said. “We have the Tia and the Ait,” he added and carefully gestured skyward where a speck of bright light glared with prominence. “We are now in the Tia cycle as Tia is more prominent in the skies. Soon and after Changeover Ait will become more prominent, that’s when the Ait cycle commences.”

The military man clearly possessed a limited ability to make foreigners understand their cultural intricacies as was evident from his uncomfortable speaking style and Nora’s lack of understanding.

The Vulcan was quick to assist. “I believe the First Marshal is referring to the Twin Pulsars prominent in this sector of space and visible with the naked eye from Tiaita.”

Trelt nodded. “The Brothers.”

“The two pulsars symbolize your gods?” Culsten asked.

“Yes, Tia and Ait. Only one rules the skies during the day. Those born under the blessing of Tia are the children of Tia. Those, like me, born during Ait’s reign are children of Ait.”

“A fascinating religion,” said Nora.

“But only the Tia make up the ruling class. So those born while Ait is visible will never have the chance to partake in the decision making process.”

The First Marshal threw the young Krellonian an dark look. To him he sounded not unlike the rebels he and his military had been fighting for generations.

Nora also chastised the junior officer. “You would do well to show more respect, Lieutenant. We are guests here,” she said in a voice so stern one would have thought she was addressing an enemy in battle.

Lif Culsten suppressed an urge to gulp.

“I apologize for the Lieutenant’s comments, First Marshal,” Nora said, paying Culsten no more mind. “He is inexperienced in these matters. I would love to hear more about your beliefs.”

This seemed to appease Trelt who quickly grew more comfortable in opening up to the Bajoran who appeared very receptive to what he had to say.

“I want to make it clear that through faith, dedication and hard work, my fellow Ait have a perfectly good chance to take on positions of great responsibilities. I myself–If I may be so bold to say–have achieved great things by becoming the First Marshal.”

“A great example indeed,” agreed Nora.

The away team continued across the marvelous city for the better part of the day. They stopped at numerous landmarks most of which appeared to have a religious function or meaning. There were a great number of statues dedicated to their gods. Culsten noticed that when the Brothers were shown together, Ait always appeared to be smaller and more diminutive then his brother. Sometimes he appeared downright subservient.

But the others didn’t pay it much attention. Nora was too involved discussing theological concepts with Trelt who had began to treat her like a close friend while Xylion studied everything he saw quietly and without showing any kind of inclination one way or the other. Doctor Wenera on the other hand look anxious and impatient as if she was waiting to be shown what she had come for.

Then just after dusk the procession stopped. A number of dull bells began to rang throughout the city and every single man and woman on the streets turned to look towards the sky where the speck of light which had been quite prominent all afternoon was beginning to dim significantly.

Trelt had explained earlier that this ceremony was called Changeover, the celebration of the Brothers changing watch over their world. During this time the light one of one of the pulsars would grow fainter and the other would grow stronger so that eventually only one would be visible. Changeover took place during the short time at which both were visible. This would happen twice a day, even though the reign of Ait was significantly longer than that of his brother.

During Changeover every Tiaitan was required by religious dogma to face the Brothers, drop to one knee and utter a short prayer.

“In ancient times the prayers were long and complex, taking many hours to complete,” Trelt had explained earlier and laughed good-heartedly. “Of course nowadays we are much more enlightened and understand that the Brothers love us no matter how long our prayers are.”

Culsten had never known what it sounded like when hundreds of thousands of people knelt down and spoke in unison until that day.

It was a startling and yet also a strangely beautiful experience.

The members of the away team were the only ones for as far as the eye could see who had remained on their feet–they had been asked not to join the ceremony–and a gentle murmur rose as one towards the heavens.

And then as quickly as it had all begun it was over. Everybody stood and surprisingly stared right at the Starfleet officers with expecting eyes.

Culsten wondered if they were waiting to be congratulated for their ceremony. Or perhaps they were expecting judgment of some sort.

“Absolutely marvelous,” said Nora quietly.



Their last stop that day was to visit a local hospital. Ashley Wenera had insisted on it and Trelt had seen no reason not to grant the request.

From what they had seen so far it was little surprise to find that the hospital was a clean and orderly place with only a small number of patients being cared for by a large staff of nurses and doctors. Wenera found that most of the patients were suffering from minor conditions or injuries some of which caused by exhaustion or dehydration common on worlds with high median temperatures.

Medical technology was advanced and no reflection whatsoever on the Tiaita’s theologically dominated society. Treatment for the sick appeared unquestioned and surgeries were performed safely and efficiently. Even when asked, the patients appeared in good spirits and had nothing but praise for those who took care of them.

Upon concluding their tour of the facility, Trelt looked particularly proud of what he called the most advanced hospital on Tiaita and soon one of many more.

Wenera on the other hand looked annoyed. Not because of what she had seen but for what she had not. “Marshal Trelt, this has been a completely pointless exercise.”

The military general was not the only one to shoot the doctor a blanched expression.

“Doctor, I have to disagree,” Nora said, coming to Trelt’s defense. “This has been an extremely insightful –“

Wenera had no qualms in cutting the security chief short, differently to Culsten she was not intimidated by the fierce woman. “If this had been a cultural observation I would agree,” she said and then focused on Trelt again. “You have a wonderful city here, Marshal, with what appears to be an excellent medical care system and an all around satisfied population.”

Trelt nodded slowly, unsure which part of her assessment had put her in such a sour mood.

Wenera clarified. “As you may or may not be aware, we have been sent here to evaluate exactly what kind of assistance your people require and to make sure it is applied as efficiently as possible. But from what I’ve seen so far, there is absolutely no justification for the massive aid program the Federation has approved. To be frank with you, there are planets out there in much more dire need than yours especially since the Dominion has caused havoc in the Alpha Quadrant.” And Wenera knew exactly what she was talking about. After working for the Starfleet agency tasked in assisting worlds in dire health emergencies for three years she had seen the worst of the worst. And so far the worst medical emergency she had found here was the equivalent of a bad case of the common cold.

The First Marshal seemed to consider those words for a moment. “You must understand that we are not used to foreign visitors. His Excellency the Prias and the Reverend Council of Tia has allowed you to visit so that you may witness the great pride we take in our world.”

Nora nodded in agreement. “And you have certainly not failed in that regard, Marshal.”

Wenera shot the Bajoran a glare. She was not helping. Laas was unimpressed however and simply glared right back.

“Alright, let me make this as clear as I can,” said the doctor. “After what I’ve seen today I will complete a report to my superiors as well as to Starfleet Medical on Earth and strongly suggest to redistribute the large amounts of supplies which have been allocated for Tiaita.”

This quite obviously startled the general profoundly. He had been tasked by none other than the simas–the leader of the Council of Tia–to show their foreign guests all the glory of Tiaita and not to bring their mission of desperately needed humanitarian aid to a premature end. Speechless he looked to Nora for help.

The Bajoran had clearly taken offense by the doctor’s harsh words, after all she had come to appreciate these people a great deal, convinced that they had found the delicate middle way between modern technology and a spiritually centered life not too different than her own people. But she had no words to offer. If she liked it or not, Wenera was right and there was nothing she could do or say that would influence her report.

Trelt turned towards the Vulcan, hoping to find some logical counterbalance to Wenera’s somewhat emotional reaction.

Xylion calmly clasped his hands behind his back. “I concur with Doctor Wenera’s assessment. What we have seen appears to be in direct contradiction to the assistance you seek.”

“First Marshal,” Wenera said, taking on a much gentler tone. “Is there something you haven’t shown us? Something perhaps that could justify why you require our help as desperately as you claim?”

Trelt appeared to be unwilling to discuss this particular matter. He was a stoic military man but it was perfectly obvious how uncomfortable this line of questioning was making him. “There … there might be.”

“Then show us.”

For the next few seconds the general remained quiet as he seemed to consider the request carefully. He had not been given orders to take the Starfleeters anywhere besides the capital. He had followed orders all his life, he was not about to disregard them now. But he was also not going to doom his entire world because he had refused a seemingly reasonable request.

“Please, return to your vessel. I will contact my superiors and pass along what we have discussed today.”

Wenera sighed.

“In the meantime I sincerely hope you have enjoyed your visit.”

“Contrary to what you might have perceived,” Nora said. “We have all greatly enjoyed this day.”

The other officers nodded in agreement albeit Wenera did so only hesitantly.

“Brother’s Blessing be upon thee all,” Trelt said just before he escorted them back to their beam-out point.

* * *​
 
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So they are suffering from "mass feminine?" Yeah, I'd call that a disaster!:lol:

Seriously, your cultural descriptions were excellent! Very rich and visual.
 
So they are suffering from "mass feminine?" Yeah, I'd call that a disaster!:lol:

Sorry - that just caught me as very funny! :guffaw:The voices in my head had a great voice-over: In a world where everyone suffers from PMS . . .

Aside from the minor (and unfortunately, corrected) typo - this was a great segment providing valuable insight into the Tia / Ait culture. But the good Doctor was right - the dog and pony show was a waste of time. I'm somewhat surprised that Nora was so supportive of the party line, appreciative of the culture or not.

Great stuff!
 
We get a good view of Tiaaitan culture here. I'm curious about Laas' reactions--are they genuine or is she shamming? If she is shamming, then very shrewd on her part...
 
What Bluefin’s wardroom lacked in size it made up with character. The panels of thick oak veneer and the many paintings of long passed vessels of the same name saw to this.

And on a ship on which the captain had vehemently ignored all calls for modernity and install a food replicator like was common on other Starfleet vessels it was not surprising that the mess hall was always filled with the pleasant smell of fresh food and coffee.

But T’Ser had not come here for either. She had come to make up for some of her earlier stubbornness. Even though she was still convinced that Dale McBride had made too much of a big deal out of Nigel Bane’s controversial relationship, she could also not completely ignore his point either.

T’Ser had the deepest respect and admiration for Captain Akinola. Something that came almost naturally to anyone who’d had the privilege to serve under the veteran skipper. And as such she perfectly understood the pain it would cause him once he found out about Bane’s transgression.

She did not share Dale’s illusions that somehow the skipper could be protected from this ostensibly embarrassing situation. Akinola was the smartest man on Bluefin, if he had not found out about Bane and Star yet he was bound to.

But this didn’t mean she couldn’t try to talk to the Australian officer and try to get a glimpse into what had made him decide to place his own desires above the welfare–in a sense–of his own crew.

“You know I somehow expected that the commander would take me aside and warn me off,” he said and chuckled without humor. “I knew that he wouldn’t understand. But you?” he added shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have thought this from you, T’Ser.”

The Vulcan felt silly for just a brief moment. She hadn’t come here to talk him out of his relationship but simply to understand it better and make sure that he understood what it meant to his colleagues. Bane had taken it as an attack.

“I remember reading Romeo and Juliet in school,” he said. “I always thought it was an hopelessly outdated story. Who in their right mind would try to tell somebody who to befriend or to love. You don’t choose these things, they choose you.”

The Vulcan sighed, not appreciating of being cast in the role of the villainous Capulet family. “I think you are being a bit overdramatic.”

“Am I?” he said. “So McBride did not send you to talk me out of seeing Star?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Listen, I do not care who you get involved with. I just wanted to make sure that you understood how your off-duty activities might affect the people you work with on a daily basis. You must have thought of this Nigel, I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Well maybe I’m not,” he shot back. “Or maybe everyone on this ship finds it much easier to mistrust somebody they don’t know than to trust one of their own.”

T’Ser considered this for a moment. Could there be some truth to that, she wondered. It was not easy to forget the people who had died and had been injured on that fateful day over a year ago. She herself had badly dislocated her shoulder during the battle and only her Vulcan physiology had allowed her not to pass out from the pain. She also remembered Nigel’s screams when a loose fragment had punctured his leg.

He leaned in closer to her, sensing that maybe he could bring her around and seeing things from his perspective. “She has changed, T’Ser. She knows that she made mistakes in the past. But everyone makes mistakes. It’s just that in some cases they are so big that people suffer and die because of them. But in the end they’re just mistakes. And everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?”

She couldn’t argue with that. Not entirely. “Yes they do,” she said. “But how certain can you be that she is not playing you the way she played those people who followed her last time? I’m not proposing that you don’t have feelings for her, all I’m saying is how certain can you be that she is genuinely honest with you?”

“Because I’ve seen it.”

That startled T’Ser. “Seen what?”

Nigel looked out of the viewport and she followed his gaze towards the sandy-brown planet below. She turned back to look at the younger officer. “You’ve seen what, Nigel?”

“I can’t talk about it,” he said slowly, realizing that he had steered himself into an impossibly awkward situation. The truth was he wanted to talk about it badly. He wanted to tell her everything he had learned about Tiaita. About the real extend of the suffering on the surface, about their civil war and about Star’s attempt to help those who needed it the most. He wanted to lay it all out for her, he wanted to tell McBride and even the skipper. But what would that accomplish? They didn’t trust Star, they didn’t trust him anymore. He feared they would move to have her arrested and maybe him along with her. It wasn’t that he was worried about his career but what would become of those people the Federation had decided to turn a blind eye towards in order to appease a cruel government and gain their help in winning the war with the Dominion.

Bane could tell that she didn’t like his response. Her deeply furrowed brow made it clear that she had grown quite concerned and he could hardly fault her for that. He had already revealed too much and T’Ser would not be able to let it go. “There are things happening on Tiaita that we don’t know about. Bad things, T’Ser,” he said in a hushed, conspiratorial sounding voice.

She leaned in closer. “What kind of things?”

Nigel sighed heavily. “I have good reason to believe that the situation on Tiaita is much worse than the government led us to believe. I think they are hiding something from us. Something that should change everything about us helping them in the way that we have. I don’t know if Schwarzkopf and the Council know about this but even if they do I doubt that it would change much considering what we are getting out of this deal.”

“Did Star tell you this?” she asked, barely managing to keep the skepticism out of her tone.

He nodded. “She made me aware of this situation at first,” he admitted. “But this not about her, T’Ser. This is about us possibly helping a corrupt government to bankroll their own civil war.”

The last word struck home. “Civil war?”

Bane wished he could have that one back. He had already violated the promise he had made to Star and while he had absolutely no reason to mistrust the Vulcan he knew he could have made a bad situation worse by revealing too much at the wrong time.

“I have to go, my shift is about to start,” he said, stood and walked towards the exit.

T’Ser jumped out of her chair. “You have to tell me what’s going on, Nigel,” she called after him, causing the few other officers in the wardroom to look her way. She didn’t seem to care.

Nigel however did care and quickly covered the distance between them. “I can’t tell you more than I did. Not now. Even if I wanted to I just can’t. But the truth is right there,” he said in a hushed tone and pointing towards the planet, “for anyone to see if they are just willing to open their eyes to it. But by looking away we might be accomplices in dooming an entire people,” he added and then quickly left, leaving T’Ser confused and exhausted in trying to puzzle together what she had just learned.

She slowly took her seat again, her glance drifting to the suddenly mysterious globe outside. Now she understood why Bane had appeared so contemplative recently. His accusations carried some significant implications that couldn’t be ignored. Her first instinct was to let Akinola know what she had learned but she decided against it considering the source of the information. Bane had also implied Schwarzkopf in this plot. She didn’t know much about the man besides the tragedy he had caused Bluefin and Akinola and that was enough to get an impression of the man’s character. She knew that Akinola wanted nothing to do with the admiral or his mission here. But if Bane was right, something had to be done.

She had to learn more.

The door to the wardroom opened and Dale McBride and Delta Simms entered. The young woman who accompanied the first officer was a pretty redhead and T’Ser noticed the tiny twinkle in her eyes when she spotted the Vulcan. It was almost as if she was disappointed to find her here.

Simms and McBride had history, she was certain of it. She didn’t know the details–and she didn’t want to know–but the brief look in the young woman’s eyes spoke of a well hidden jealously. It was gone momentarily and the good-natured Delta Simms returned to the surface before anyone could have suspected otherwise.

McBride excused himself from Simms and approached T’Ser.

“Is this seat taken, Lieutenant?” he asked.

She smiled at his overly polite manner and then gestured towards the place where Bane had sat only moments ago. “Be my guest, Commander.

He sat. “I came to apologize for my behavior on the bridge yesterday.”

“Commander Dale McBride, apologizing. I should mark this day in my calendar for it may never happen again,” she said with a sweet little smirk.

“This would be much easier without the sarcasm.”

“Easier, yes. More fun, no.”

“Alright, I probably deserve it. It’s just that I was worried about –“

She nodded understandingly. “I know, Dale,” she said and placed a hand on his.

He looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden and looked to see if anyone had noticed T’Ser’s gesture.

“Relax, Dale. Everybody knows.”

“They do?”

She nodded firmly. “It’s a very small ship. How long where you hoping to keep us a secret?”

He shrugged. “December at least.”

T’Ser smiled but McBride didn’t seem to notice that it wasn’t quite the same, honest smile which usually came over her lips. There were too many other things on her mind to allow for it.

The first officer instead produced a small gray box which he had carried somewhere hidden under his uniform.

T’Ser’s eyes opened wide and for a moment she panicked without letting it show. She prayed it wasn’t what she thought it was. This was not a good time for a proposal. It was way too soon, surely McBride knew this and more than that, it was not something T’Ser had ever considered before. She liked the tall Texan and she wanted to be with him, but marriage? That was a concept way too large for her to contemplate.

“I wanted to give this to you in a more … uh … private setting but seeing that we are forgoing the secrecy I thought I could give it to you now.”

“Dale, I –“

He opened the box to reveal a sliver necklace with a large black stone attached to it. T’Ser had to force herself to suppress a sigh of relief. She silently chastised herself for the irrational fear that had gripped her.

“I bought this when we were docked at Deep Space Two,” he said and removed the necklace. “The man who sold it to me didn’t even realize what he had. The stone is a Rigellian sapphire which are only found in mines deep under the surface. They emit a low level of harmless teteron radiation which gives them some very unique attributes,” McBride explained and handed it to her.

She took it and found the sapphire to be warm to her touch. The dark stone grew brighter when she touched it and to her surprise she noticed that the smooth surface mirrored a number of different, ever changing shapes. “It’s beautiful,” she said, astonished by the display.

“They say that everyone who looks at a Rigellian sapphire sees a different set of shapes. It’s suppose to tell you about your future.”

She kept looking at the stone but the shapes seemed chaotic blotches of color, making no discernable sense. She thought one of them looked like the bloom of a flower or maybe, for somebody with a more macabre sense it could have been a massive explosion.

“Of course that’s nothing more than superstition,” he added.

“Superstitious nonsense or no, this is beautiful, Dale. Thank you. I’ll wear it under my uniform,” she said and easily placed the necklace around her neck and then under her shirt. “You do know how to make it up to a girl.”

He shrugged. “I have a few talents.”

She laughed softly and wondered if she should press the issue of when he had purchased this gift for her. They had been docked at Deep Space Two almost two months ago, well before they had embarked on their relationship. She decided to let it go. Then she caught a glimpse of Tiaita again and her thoughts almost instantly returned to her earlier discussion with Nigel Bane. Her smile faltered.

This time McBride noticed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to put some effort into the smile again.

The first officer didn’t buy it. “You sure about that? You seem a bit distracted.”

She considered her next words very carefully. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Anything.”

She grinned at how quickly he had agreed to help her without knowing anything about her forthcoming request. This kind of power was scary, if not also a bit alluring.

“I want to visit Tiaita,” she said and looked towards the planet.

McBride did likewise before turning back to the Vulcan. “That would be difficult. We have not been cleared to land any personnel on that planet. Only the relief crews have been allowed down there.”

T’Ser was aware of that. She had played with the thought of asking for permission to transfer to the transport fleet temporarily in order to be allowed to visit Tiaita. But that meant that besides McBride’s or Akinola’s permission she would also need Commander Star’s. Considering what the Trill was hiding it seemed extremely unlikely that she would allow an outsider to join her crew, especially somebody from Bluefin.

“How come you want to go down there anyway?” he asked.

T’Ser had been afraid of that question. She didn’t want to answer it. Not yet, not before she knew for certain that Bane had been right. She realized what the Australian officer must have felt like when she had demanded answers from him. But she was adamant not to make the same mistake he had done. She would not allow this unconfirmed rumor to continue to spread unless it could be confirmed somehow. No matter how much she trusted McBride.

“I want to see what’s down there. We don’t get the chance to go on many away missions other than boarding parties,” she said, feeling guilty about the lie almost immediately. Vulcans after all weren’t suppose to.

But McBride had no reason to distrust her story. “Why, I had no idea you had a little explorer in you.”

“There is a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said with a smirk. “Yet.”

He took that as a challenge, determined to eventually discover all of the enticing Vulcan’s secrets. “Well there might be another way,” he said. “I’ve heard that the Eagle has begun to send people to the planet. If you can get their permission to join one of their away teams I see no reason why you couldn’t go.”

She considered that for a moment. The Border Service and Starfleet didn’t mix much. It wasn’t so much a rule but consequence of circumstances. The two services had their own dedicated personnel and there rarely existed the need for joint operations. As such T’Ser didn’t have many friends serving in Starfleet and none she could think of who served on Eagle. But maybe somebody on that ship knew somebody she knew. It was a small galaxy after all.

“Thanks, Dale,” she said and stood. “I owe you.”

But he simply waved her off. “Nah, you don’t. Just make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble. These regular fleeters do things differently and I would hate to have to go over there and defend your honor.”

“Something tells me you would love to do just that,” she said with a widening smirk and headed for the exit.

“Don’t tempt me.”

* * *​
 
Very nice character work here - T'Ser's natural curiosity and concern going up against Bane's idealism and chivalry. It looks like Bane's slip of the tongue is going to draw T'Ser into the mix. Somehow, I see trouble ahead for the Vulcan operations officer. It would seem that at some point, Bane is going to have to come clean with McBride and ultimately Akinola - but will it be too late when he does?

I also liked the scene with McBride and T'Ser. T'Ser really has a phobia about rings, doesn't she? :lol: 'Course she doesn't mind wrapping McBride around her finger one bit! ;)
 
Looks like T'Ser's about to get dragged into this--which will in turn suck in McBride and then Akinola--chain reaction time...

And now T'Ser gets to mingle with the Fleeters again...

McBride better hope there aren't any roguish male Trills aboard the Eagle ;)
 
Another fine character piece. You do like to dig into who and what they all are, don't you. Very enjoyable.
 
FIVE



The central command and information center was the pride of Tiaita’s military and for good reason. The spacious room deep within the Sanctuary which along with the Holy Tower formed the apex of Tiatia’s government, was filled with enough computer processing power to closely control even the smallest operation of the twelve million strong military.

For Simas Sindron-Tia it was the perfect tool to continuously monitor their war effort against the rebellious New Light faction. As final victory over these troublesome insurgents had become the single most important priority during his tenure as chief of the military and leader of the Council of Tia, he spend many hours looking over the massive screens and formulating new battle plans with or without the help of the marshals under his command.

The simas had to admit that he had once underestimated the New Light. Ait rebels and their continuous fight against the well established order on Tiaita was nearly as old as civilization itself. But for a long time the Ait had been little more than rabble-rouser, causing trouble for the more prestigious Tia’s on local levels, their ragtag gangs usually quickly dispersed or arrested by the mighty military.

But those were nothing but myths, propagated by those in power to avoid giving their enemy too much credit or influence. As far as a large part of the population, especially the Tia but also a great number of Ait were concerned, the New Light and their struggle was an inconsequential uprising by vile heretics.

The truth which Sindron himself had only learned after coming to power some thirty cycles ago was that the New Light’s struggle had never been anywhere as negligible as the authorities had made it appear.

The New Light was a grave threat to Tiaita’s society.

They were also an embarrassment to previous administrations and their failure to use Tiaita’s impressive military to purge this ugly stain from their world. It was mistake he vowed to correct.

“They appeared quite adamant, Simas. They demanded to be shown parts of our world which are in desperate need of their help. These people are different to the ones we dealt with before. They will not just hand us over their supplies without knowing exactly how we will use them.”

Sindron listened to First Marshal Trelt-Ait report quietly while he toured his facility with the general at this side.

“They have threatened to withdraw any more aid until we have agreed to their demands.”

“Threatened?” asked Sindron without slowing his pace, a tiny smile playing on his thin lips.

Trelt nodded. “It certainly sounded like a threat to me. I have no reason to doubt that that they could make good on such a threat if we fail to appease them.”

The simas stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his First Marshal. “How dare Starfleet threaten us in this manner?” he asked but apparently was not looking for an answer. “Do they not depend on our graces and good will to allow them to mine their ores in our territory? Do they not require our permission to construct the facilities they need to continue their own war?”

Trelt nodded slowly. “But do we not also require their help?” he asked carefully.

The green-robed simas turned to face the massive screen which dominated the entire room, displaying a map of Tiaita, filled with numerous signs and markers which indicated troop deployments and ongoing military operations. Most of these markers were concentrated in the Western hemisphere, thousands of miles from their location.

“Your problem, Trelt, is that you do not understand Starfleet. I on the other hand have studied them carefully, as you should have done. One must know everything there is to know about one’s enemy before battle.”

“I was not aware they were the enemy,” said the marshal slightly confused.

The other man made a dismissive hand gesture. “Enemy or ally,” he continued. “The same rules apply. Knowledge of the way they think and do is quintessential.”

“Of course.”

“The Federation is a desperate ally and it is above all else, fractured. It is too large for its own good, with too many individuals allowed to make decisions and given too much leeway. The supplies we need are not controlled by those who made the threats and there is much disagreement between these people. But in the end they all know one essential truth.”

“And what truth is that, my lord?”

“They need us.”

The large doors ot the command center opened to allow a most unexpected guest to enter. The secure facility was only accessible to key military members and even though the guest had no such credentials, nobody would have dared to stop Prias Oldar-Tia.

The two men quickly turned to face him, surprised by his unorthodox visit. The leader of Tiaita had never been prone to make inspections of the military facilities.

“You will mind your own counsel and not reveal what you’ve told me, marshal,” the simas whispered while Oldar approached them.

“He is the prias, my lord,” countered the general.

“You would do well in remembering of how you came to be in your current position, Ait,” he shot back sharply, using his class suffix as a stark reminder of where he came from and where he could easily return if the simas so wished.

Both men lowered their heads and dipped their shoulders as a sign of their respect as their leader approached.

“Your Eminence, you honor us with your visit. But you should not have troubled yourself with coming to seek me out. I would have gladly come to you at your request,” Sindron said, his head still lowered.

“Of that I have no doubt, old friend,” responded the old man with a degree of good-natured humor. “Please, lift your heads,” he said and made a lifting gesture with both his hands.

The two men complied.

“This goes for everyone,” said the prias and widened his gesture to include the entire room and dozens of soldiers who had stood from their stations to pay their respect. “I have not come here to disrupt your important work. Please, continue.”

They did not have to be told twice. Ancient customs called for severe punishments for those who did not obey the word of the one true prias.

“If you allow me to be this forward, Your Eminence, may I inquire how we can be of assistance to you?” the simas asked.

Oldar took in the room for a moment, paying particular attention to the dominatingly large world map. He was unfamiliar with the meaning of the many symbols displayed there but its purpose seemed clear enough even to him. “I do not wish to isolate myself in the tower,” he said slowly. “Perhaps that was one of the mistakes of my esteemed predecessors. Perhaps in order to affect real change and bring about new prosperity for our people, Tiaita will require a prias who is more involved in the fate of all the Brother’s children.”

The simas and the marshal exchanged a quick glance with each other while the prias was taking in the large screen. They didn’t quite know what to make of this unexpected decision.

“Your Eminence, the role of the prias has always been to serve as the earthly voice of the Brothers. It has always been the role of your humble servants such as myself and the Council of Tia to follow the prias’ orders and ensure the prosperity of the people. But as you are aware, Your Eminence, the prias has never directly involved himself in the daily affairs of the government.”

“Yes, and maybe therein lays the problem,” said the prias and turned to face his most trusted advisor once more. He noticed the flicker of doubt on his face. “Do not worry yourself, simas. I have not come to question your work or to do it for you. That is not my intention at all. But please allow me to indulge my strange requests.”

The simas dipped his shoulders again. “Your wishes, Your Eminence, are the wishes of the Brothers themselves.”

The prias nodded. “It is fortunate that I have found both of you at the same time. May I ask what our progress has been in dealing with our enemy?”

There was absolutely no way the simas could have refused such a request here, in front of the entire military leadership. The thought alone was scandalous. But the truth of the matter was that the simas had enjoyed a certain autonomy which he had used to carefully choose the information he forwarded to his master. It wasn’t an abuse of trust, he argued, but simply a necessity to ensure the prias was in a position to make strong and unquestionable decisions. But now he was exposed and unable to filter anything. He did not much like being put in such a situation.

His momentary hesitation caused Oldar to glance towards the First Marshal, who had no similar compunctions and was forced into action by the prias’ demand. “Our recent strike against Ald An Lek was a complete success. The new weapon we utilized for the attack has performed beyond our expectations. Our initial estimates point towards a destructive rate of eighty-five percent, which is ten percent above our predictions. The casualties are in the one-hundred thousand.”

The simas frowned at the uncensored report but kept his thoughts wisely hidden when he noticed the prias’ painful expression.

“And we are certain that it was a New Light stronghold?”

The simas answered this before the marshal could. “Without a doubt, Your Eminence. The population consisted out of New Light soldiers, their families and sympathizers. Their destruction will severely cripple their abilities to threaten neighboring territories.”

Prias Oldar seemed to contemplate this for a moment in silence. Then, when he spoke again he did so with the uttermost confidence. “I have spend many hours in meditation, praying to the Brothers to endow me with the wisdom to bring an end to our long crisis. I now believe I might have finally found it. I firmly believe that a softer approach may be required. Our systematic eradication of children of the Brothers has caused me great pain for a very long time.”

The simas could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Children of the Brothers? Your Eminence, these Ait are godless heretics who have renounced the Brothers. How could we consider them children?”

“Estranged children, my friend. Led down the wrong path by foolishness and ignorance. It should be our role to make them see the truth again. I want us to reduce our military operations and instead focus on re-education. Let us be the light in the darkness, my friend. Let us be the ones to bring great change, great unity and great hope to all of Tiaita.”

Sindron of course recognized the reference to the Prophecy immediately. He also knew that the prias had somewhat of an obsession with the ancient text and sometimes liked to cast himself in the role of the Anointed One, the great savior of the people according to the Prophecy. Sindron did not disagree with the holy text, doing so would have been blasphemous. But he was certain that Prias Oldar-Tia was not the Anointed One. But he hadn’t entirely ruled out the possibility that the title could one day fall to him.

For now Sindron simply nodded. “I will do as you wish, Your Eminence. We shall increase our efforts at the monasteries and increase the number of missionaries. Our military forces will support in any way they can,” he said. The monasteries he spoke of served as the principle re-education centers for captured Ait who were suspected of having turned against the Brothers. In reality they were nothing more than forced labor camps with unnaturally high death rates. There was of course no need to remind the prias of this.

“I shall take no more of your valuable time then.”

“Your Eminence, before you depart may I be allowed to bring another matter to your attention?” Simas Sindron inquired.

“Certainly.”

“We have recently hosted a Starfleet delegation to the capital with great success. However they have expressed a desire to visit the places where their assistance is required the most. I have therefore suggested to invite them to Al Tre Nek in the Western Desert.”

The First Marshal shot the simas a puzzled look but managed to retain his composure almost instantly.

“Al Tre Nek has seen much violence recently. Are you certain it will be safe for them there?”

“Starfleet’s military ability and expertise far exceeds our own, Your Eminence. We will of course provide adequate protection but I have no doubt that they will be able to defend themselves in the unlikely event that the New Light will attack the city. Al Tre Nek has been the focus of New Light aggression for years. Their cowardly terrorist attacks have decimated the population and Starfleet assistance would be of enormous help to our overextended relief workers.”

The simas nodded slowly. “You make valid points, my friend. Have Starfleet visit Al Tre Nek and help in any way they can. But only if their safety can be guaranteed. We cannot afford Starfleet to take casualties on Tiaitan soil.”

“Certainly, Your Eminence,” said the simas and once again dipped his shoulder and lowered his head. The marshal followed suit. “The Brother’s Blessings be upon thee.”

“And to thee.” The prias turned and slowly left the command center, feeling as if for the first time in his short tenure as leader of his people he had affected real change.

The First Marshal turned to the simas the moment Oldar had left the room. “I was under the impression you did not wish to share Starfleet’s request with the Prias.”

A soft chuckle escaped Sindron’s lips. “Sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t a mistake to promote you, marshal. You may be a decent tactician on the battlefield but an Ait could never hope to fully grasp the intricacies of politics.”

If Trelt had been offended he knew well how to hide it behind a stern mask of stoicism.

“Starfleet will get their wish and see firsthand what the New Light is capable of. But they will get more than they have bargained for and in the end they will have no choice but to play their part in helping us to remove the abominate cancer that has inflicted our world for far too long.”

“How do you plan to achieve this?”

“You will see soon enough, First Marshal. Soon enough.”

* * *​
 
We get to see some more of the political machinations of the simas--as well as see a very dramatic illustration of the racial/religious prejudice in this society. The First Marshal is there only as long as he keeps his place--in many ways, he's nothing more than a trained seal or a pampered pet.
 
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