A Place Of Rest

Posted on Tue Jan 15th, 2019 @ 1:51pm by The Narrator & Lieutenant Commander Meilin Jiang & Lieutenant Francesca Ricci

Mission: S1E2: A Temple To New Gods
Location: Planet Surface, Military Cadre Crawler
Timeline: MD3 12.00PM

The Crawler's interior was suitable bare bones to show off its military heritage. Entry was through the large rear hatch, and the seating was little better than cargo netting strung between struts coming out of the walls. Ceiling mounted displays on hinges displayed simple sensor readings of the surroundings. The driver's cab, along with the gunner's copula, was sealed behind a hatch festooned with warning labels in an alien script.

Prime Philosopher Kisbeck shuffled his lobster shell like suit of armour up along the gangway and settled into a seat at the head of the crawler. He waved to the other seats, and when they were filled and some of the armed soldier's tried to get on he waved them away.

They didn't seem at all happy by that idea, but they acquiesced.

"To answer your question," Kisbeck began, looking in Bahat's direction as the hatch sealed behind them with a pressurised hiss. "The Military Cadre answers to the will and direction of the Civilian Mandate. And given the fact the sensor's we had marking that place showed activity, well...it was proposed that one or more of the other Cradle facilities might have been compromised by fungal infection. In which case we might have been facing a sizeable force comprised of guardian elements and light armour like this crawler."

As if on cue the gargantuan machine lurched into life, the electric hum of its drivetrain lost beneath the gravel tossed growl of its tyres rolling.

"It was a near thing that this was a solely Military Cadre operation. But I'm now male and old, so not much of a waste if I go beyond the Cradle to walk the old road's eh? Better an old male than a young female." Kisbeck chuckled. "But, now a question for you? Did I hear one of being referred to as a Commander? Am I to assume you represent a military force? Some sort of star navy?"

Meilin smiled softly and nodded. "My name is Lieutenant Commander Meilin Jiang of Starfleet, an interstellar agency of exploration and discovery from the United Federation of Planets." Her mouth ticked up in displeasure. "Though we do perform paramilitary actions, it is only in the defense of our peaceful mandate: to seek out new life and new civilizations and to boldly go where we have not gone before. In fact, one might consider myself as a microcosm of that. When I first entered Starfleet, it was as a forensic anthropologist. I study the remains of past cultures to better understand present ones, and vice versa. But need pressed me into a Tactical career path for many years before my path was corrected back into the Sciences. Humbly, I remain Chief Science Officer of Canopus Station, which is Starfleet's first formal starbase in this sector of space." She dipped her head in apology for boasting.

Bahat, satisfied with her visual survey of their current craft, glanced over at Commander Jiang, or at least as much of her as she could see through their environmental suits. Another former combat officer, interesting. She looked at Kisbeck again. "You could say that we're your new neighbors," she said, trying to sound friendly.

"If only you'd been here sooner. But, then again, maybe you would have befallen the same fate as us," Kisbeck said sorrowfully. "Though, who can say? I myself am a geophysicist, site manager for the Fazzoon City Cradle facility. Until the Concordance came I was running deep planetary geomagnetic research from what was a relic of a bygone era. A few university students on furlough, a single Cadre officer as a liaison. Not quite a retirement villia on the coast, but it was my home."

He eyed the group.

"When you say...new neighbours, do you mean you have set up this starbase in our system? I ask only because of the massive artificial constructs that appear to have been placed in orbit above our heads. And if not, then how did you know to come here? Those structures only appeared here a few days ago, any radio signal would just be hitting the heliopause at the edge of the system unless you were already in the system." He held up a clenched fist. "Hold on...I'll bombard you with question's if you let me. The entire Philosopher wing of the Civilian Mandate will. But here is the question that will matter...could your ship evacuate upwards of five thousand civilians from the surface?"

Meilin gave Kisbeck a sweetly condescending shake of her head. When she answered him, it was as a schoolteacher addressing an inquisitive student. "No. But our starbase is the size of some moons, and it had to be launched in modular sections. Two such modules drifted off course in transit and fell into orbit around your world. The universe works in mysterious ways, though, for in addition to retrieving our starbase modules, we also discovered you."

"And if ever I was one to believe in luck and good fortune, I would now be a devotee. But you only answered one of my questions, and if I am honest the other is of a more pressing concern," Kisbeck said. His armoured shoulder pauldrons hunched a little as he set them in place. "Five thousand civilian and military personnel. Does your ship or station have that carrying capacity?"

Francie's brow wrinkled in concern. "Why do you ask?" she asked. Of course, the reason they asked was obvious, but his reply could offer some insight into what had happened here.

Kisbeck went silent for a moment, and then reached up with the thick armoured gloves of his suit and undid the complicated mechanical lock of his helmet. With a hiss of pressure, the helmet made a half turn, and he pulled it off. As the face visor had shown his skin was onyx black, with golden stripes streaking out from the corners of his mouth and eyes. As the helmet came free, he pulled a protective cap off with it, revealing veined frills like those of a deep water fish that seemed to hold a faint orange glow to them.

"During our last communication with the North Coastal Cradle Facility, they'd run into a snag with their hydroponic's. Mineral contamination or some such, they were never able to pin it down. But their crops failed, and the tanks were trained badly enough they couldn't be reused. What started as rationing turned quickly to violence on a scale I'd not seen since The Fall Back. Some were calm in those days. I was in constant communication with the Facility Director, a man of composure and honour to the end. He deserved a better fate than to die by slow degrees by starvation or predation," Kisbeck said. His voice was hollow, recalling the memory with a shudder through the veined fins of his 'hair'. "The Northern Coastal Facility was the major civilian fallback facility for the region. It housed ten thousand souls, who all died in the space of two weeks because a single mistake was made. We've been careful, cautious."

His smile was weak as he looked at Francesca.

"The primary water reservoir that supplies us with our water for recycling, personal use, or running the reactor powering the facility was compromised three days ago. We've already begun detecting elements of the fungus, but I'm concerned with the radiation and chemical seepage. Right now we can struggle on, but very soon we'll have to start rationing. I only have five thousand, but if your ship cannot take us from here before then..." his dark gem-like eyes flicked to the sealed cockpit door of the crawler, and then back to the away team. "Your ship has weapons at least yes? That much is clear. I can give you precise coordinates for a strike. Quick and clean, right on top of the facility. I would rather we went with some dignity than starve or go mad. You can at least promise me that."

His voice broke.

"My people deserve at least that kindness."

Bahat, her eyes wide, suddenly felt far away from this unnamed planet. She remembered the traumatic stress disorders that so many Bajorans had developed during the Occupation. The fatalism, the fragility. The way people could be functioning members of society one day and catatonic the next. Her heart hurt. Dragging herself back to the present, she said in a gentle voice, "Kisbeck, let's explore some other options before we jump straight to euthanasia, okay? Starfleet engineers are some of the best in the galaxy. If there's a way to help your people, they'll find it."

Francie nodded emphatically. "I'll talk to my cousin," she promised. "She's one of the best engineers in all of Starfleet. Maybe even the best. She'll come up with something in five seconds flat."

"It's not enough." Meilin had listened quietly to the Prime Philosopher's tale of woe, and now she had made a command decision. "Starfleet has a long history of rendering aid. We cannot fit so many on our ship, but there is more than enough room on our station. Even if we must ferry the Resolute multiple times, we will see your people relocated."

The glowing fronds of Kisbeck's 'hair' shifted down the spectrum into soft blues, and he seemed to sag within the armour. His eyes closed, and his lips parted to speak, but the Crawler made a sudden turn, pushing them all into their seats for a moment. In that same moment, a loose piece of electrical equipment slid out from the opposite row of seats, a plastic encased box festooned with torn out wiring and cabling.

"Khit!" Kisbeck said, his fronds going back to an orange golden lustre as he tapped something into his console. "Pilot, what's going on?"

"The other Crawlers pointing its main gun at us and just tried to drive us off the road. I think it's very clear they want me to follow them to Lock 2, not Lock 1 Sir," the pilot's voice said from beyond the sealed door. "So much for disabling their radio, we must just be in range for short wave comms. Formation Leader Kle must have found out."

"Well...follow them in. Do exactly what they want, its imperative we get back to the Cradle. The Civilian lock would have been better, but Kle's forced our hand," Kisbeck said with a defeated tone. He looked to the others. "You are all under the protection of the Civilian Mandate as long as you can hold true to your offer. Assure me of that and I will do everything I can to mitigate this. The Military Cadre will back down if I make it clear everything is under control."

Which clearly it was not.

"We will comply," Meilin said as she handed out solemn stares to everybody else in the crawler. "Perhaps, between us all, we can troubleshoot your water reclamation system as a measure of good faith."

Kyril-Ma, the Aurelian ensign, squawked in protest. "Why oh why couldn't we have just gone back to the ship?"

"Be silent, Ensign." Meilin very nearly raised her voice. "This situation is beyond you. Do not speak another word unless you are so ordered. You may nod your understanding."

The Aurelian nodded vigorously and whimpered through his beak.