Episode 2.0: Touching the Void Options

[Adm_George_Cash]

[Personal quarters]
[Venture Station]


George awoke at the sound of the irritating beeping noise. Flipping over he tapped the communication control on his bedside stand and growled out a response.

"This better be damned important." He laid on his side and waited while some SF intern transferred him to his caller.

"George, this Adam." Came the voice of senior Admiral Adam Sullivan, former commander of the Ticonderoga and now head of Starfleet sciences division.

"What is it, Adam? I know it's 8 AM on Cestus III, but here it's a lot damned earlier." He grumbled again.

"Yeah, I know. But after reading the reports that i have i wanted to know just what the hell you we're doing about the Enterprise."

George sighed and shook his head. "Enterprise? What the hell do I care about pike giving his boat to that punk kid?" George was tired and starting to get really annoyed.

"Not that Enterprise George.....the first Enterprise." Now Adam sounded annoyed as well.

"Last I checked it was still in the fleet museum in the NX class exhibit." Sitting up now, he started to rub at his sleepy eyes.

"Damn it George! I'm talking about THE Enterprise! A team of damned fools on your station found it and brought the damned thing back a few days ago!" The sound of a glass shattering could be heard over the yelling. All the color drained from George's face.

"I would have known if that happened. I would have been told..." Standing now, he walked to his closet, pulled a yellow uniform top out and slipped it on. A pair of pants followed. Then he started hunting for his boots.

"Well it did happen George and I can't believe I know about before you! I don't have to tell you what this means."

Pulling on his left boot George yelled." Damn it Adam i know! I was there to remember!" Finally dressed he walked to his table and clicked the comm off. Flipping another toggle he asked the computer a question.

"Computer location of Andreas Vasco?"

"Working.." the computer replied and then soon spit out an answer.

"Andreas Vasco not located aboard Venture Station. Last known location. SS Enterprise docking area six"

Turning cash exited his quarters.

[Andreas Vasco]

[SS Enterprise - Storage bay, section 18-A]
[Stardate 2259.74 - 1030 Hours]

Pollyanna told Vasco a story. It could have began "once upon a time" or "a long time ago", for it began in a world so strange that it would have been hardly recognizable to him. It started all the way back in the dark and distant year of 2010. There, Pollyanna told him of a child that was born in the hills of Macedonia, to parents who had barely survived the country's civil war.His first memories were the protests that gripped Europe, as it plunged into an age of austerity, harsh and cruel and unforgiving. It was not an age that produced idealists. He was a precocious child, highly intelligent but also disturbed by what he saw around him. Soon, he came to understand that what they suffered was a direct result of the decadence of the generations before him, who valued a cozy welfare state above discipline and prudence. As natural resources began to dwindle and climate change wreaked havoc, they where turbulent times where governments fought for what little remained. There were wars for oil, natural gas, the rare earth minerals used in electronics, even wars over water itself. And as the warming earth turned sub-Saharan Africa and much of the middle east into waste lands, more and more refugees sought refuge in the cool north lands of Europe. But neither walls nor guards nor fences could keep them out. Whole armies fought to hold back the tide of immigration. A new western identity began to take root as they feared the deluge from the east. Paranoia renewed the old battle lines between east and west again. By the time the boy was a teenager, several regional nuclear wars had erupted in Kashmir, in Turkey, and the Koreas. In response, the rising powers of the east all severed their ties with the United Nations. The Eastern Coalition was born, and the long conflict that would later be called World War III began. The New United Nations was created with a single army led by Colonel Green. The New UN parliament became dominated by his Optimum movement, a mixture of libertarian economic policies, evolutionary psychology left over from the eugenics wars, and a heavy dose of authoritarianism. Colonel Green used the growing instability of the climate as an excuse to attack the world's largest source of carbon pollution (the Muslim Bloc) and the world's largest polluters (China). He wore the mantle of an eco-terrorist which he used to rally support among much of the third world. His attacks on the Muslim Bloc drove them to ally themselves with ECON.

The boy became a card carrying member of the Optimum Party when he joined the New UN Armed Forces. He joined the military looking for answers, a sense of purpose in a world dominated by so many uncertainties and chaos. He became a pilot of a squadron of orbital drone bombers. From a station high above the earth and hopped up into a drug-induced blood lust, he could command an entire squadron of drones through tele-presence as they unleashed hell on the people below. They needed to be made to fear, Pollyanna explained, just as the people of the west had been made to fear the rising power of the east. The man's call sign, "Vasco", was a nickname given to him by one of his Italian comrades meaning "The Basque". It was both for his swarthy looks and his tactics. He didn't like it, since Vaško was a Greek name of Serbian origin and not a very complimentary one, but it stuck. He rose high in the ranks. Though he was wanted by the Eastern Coalition for war crimes related to his bombing campaign in Cyprus, he became a hero in the west, second only to Green himself.

When he was in his early thirties, the United Nations Solar Fleet was formed and he was recruited by Green into the long range space projects that were taking shape. He was still young, only in his mid-thirties and just given his captain's bars when he was selected for a new project. Partially it was because he had achieved such a high rank while still so young. The crew for this project was to be as young as possible, to survive a journey that could take decades. He only was told the name of the vessel and it's designation: The Enterprise XCV-330. It was being constructed far removed from the terror that was engulfing earth: an asteroid shipyard in one of the UN's orbital facilities at Lagrangian point L5. He thought it no small irony that this point in space---exactly 60 degrees perpendicular to the earth-moon orbit, where the gravitation of both bodies reached equilibrium---was called by astronomers the 'Trojan Point'. Because one of these asteroids was making a fine Trojan horse. He had of course heard many rumors about it. It's propulsion system was secret. It was rumored that it was reverse engineered from some alien ship that crash landed in rural Pennsylvania a century earlier. While there had been tiny expedition survey and scout ships (such as the DY class) that were launched beyond the solar system, this would be the world's first true starship. It was also there that he would meet Pollyanna Reeves.

A psychologist, she was assigned to the project to help the recruits adjust to the new life they were going to lead. She wasn't political, having joined the party simply as a means to an end. She just wanted out, out of a world that was shambling toward Armageddon. But as that Armageddon approached, as she watched ECON stamp her home of Alaska into dust, she needing something to explain how this could happen. She sought answers, just as the man called "Vasco" had earlier. He comforted her with the knowledge that it was all for a greater plan. He was so successful in converting her, that he made her the ship's political officer, second only to him. Soon, she was more of a believer than he had ever been. Together they saw to the construction and launch of the Enterprise as they watched the world spiral into madness. When the final nuclear exchange happened, and the pale blue dot went silent, they believed that they were all that was left. They now had the responsibility of ensuring that humanity lived on. He told her that they would be together forever, in the form of these seeds of life that the Enterprise carried, that not even death itself could keep them apart.

And it was true. He had finally come back to her...


***


"That's the man you were." Pollyanna glowed. "The man who breached heaven's walls and defied death to come back and show us the way. The man who promised to be with me always. So that we may be a new Adam and Eve. And in a thousand years, every star in the galaxy will be circled by our children."

"That wasn't me, Pollyanna."

"It's not yet, but it's who you'll become again. This device here..." She tapped the apparatus which had scanned him. "...is designed to map your brain and re-implants your memories from the backup that was recorded when we left earth."

"But that person wouldn't me. I'd be dying, and someone else would be moving in."

"I understand it's scary. But we all did it. And we're better for it. We know who we are. We have a purpose again. If you don't do this, you'll always be that baby adrift in the universe. You won't have a place anywhere. Alone."

"Pollyanna. I'm not that man you fell in love with. I won't be, no matter what you put in my brain."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm gay."

"What?"

"Homosexual. You know..I like guys who like guys."

"I know what gay means for God's sake. Why did you go and do that?"

"It's not exactly something I had a hand in deciding."

"Of course you did. You're an exact genetic duplicate. If it's not biological then it's a choice. And a choice made, can be unmade."

"I'm sorry, Pollyanna. You're in love with someone who's never coming back."

Tears formed. And Andreas wondered if that was the first time since they met that she had ever faced the possibility, an understanding that now collapsed on her like a ton of bricks.

"We don't need him." Oliver broke in. "He killed us once already, Pollyanna. Let's be done with him, once and for all."

She looked at them both. Her eyes went to Vasco, then to Oliver. Finally, covering her mouth, she turned and walked out.

"What do we do?" One of them asked Oliver.

Oliver reached into one of his pockets, and produced a knife. "He made the decision for us. We can't leave him alive to talk." He brought it up to Vasco's throat. "You know, even before you killed me, I hated you. Night after night I fantasized about this moment. I could have killed you so many times, but you took even that from me. I never got the chance." He dug the blade in. "If only I could read you. Then I could feel that moment of panic as you breathe your last breath."

That's when Vasco noticed his eyes. The mirror-like shimmer had returned. Their eyes must do that when they're using their abilities, as he tried one last time to see into Vasco's mind. And he remembered what Pollyanna had said. Oliver was the most powerful of them all, as far as his mind abilities go. That would also mean that he was the most reliant on them. And he'd had no experience with someone he couldn't read, like Vasco. It's like a blind man fighting a man who can see. The man with sight would have the advantage until the lights went out. He'd have the edge of surprise.

Vasco kicked. Oliver realized what was going on too late. The knife tumbled to the metal floor. When Oliver scrambled to pick it up, Vasco kicked again. Oliver collapsed on the deck. The two men behind him tried grabbing a hold of him. Here Vasco had another advantage: They had grown up in lighter gravity than him. He used his weight like a blunt instrument, bringing one over his shoulder colliding into the other. He was lucky they didn't have those sub-machine guns he had seen them with earlier. Considering what they did to Muldoon, he didn't want to think of the mess they could make of him. But it was only a momentary victory. He was a poor excuse for a fighter, and it was still two to one, and more would be coming as soon as they heard the commotion. His lungs were already burning from the cold.

The two men struggled to their feet, punch drunk for an instant. They'd regain their bearings in a few seconds. This was the only chance he'd have. With his lungs burning in his chest from the cold, and the cut wounds on his neck and hands throbbing, Vasco made a break for the door as fast as he could.


TBC

[Adm_George_Cash]

[Venture Station - Skyway terminal]
[0749 Hours]

As he stepped onto the terminal platform and waited for the train to arrive, Admiral Cash fumed. He didn't know how it happened. Ho it was that he didn't find out until now that the SS Enterprise was now at the station. But once he got up out of the bed, took a shower, and headed down to the skyway transport terminal, he knew exactly how this had happened. He had been spread too thin. From Baker's trial to staffing Fleet HQ to supervising repairs on the USS Federation to worrying like hell that his nephew wasn't going to make it back to Starbase 13 in one piece... He was only human, and things fall through the cracks. Still. You could call Admiral Cash many things, but you could never call him out of the loop. This was unlike him, and he was pissed.

When the train arrived, and he stepped through its hissing doors, he thought he noticed someone following him. Apparently the man noticed being noticed, because at that point he held out his hand.

"Admiral?" He was a middle-aged african man with an academic air about him. "Richard Daystrom. You weren't at your office. You have a moment?"

"I know who you are, Daystrom. And yes, I always have a moment for people who build computers that go insane for a living."

"Is there like a standard Starfleet sarcastic remark kit you people are issued when you join up?"

"If it's another grant request, you can have my aide put it in my inbox."

"That's what your aide said. She then pointed to the sign on your waste disintigration bin that was marked 'inbox'."

"She's such a kidder, that one."

"I had some questions about the SS Enterprise..."

"Yeah, well you can get in line. Just found out about that one myself."

He began to walk away down the car, trying to find a seat as far as far away as he could.

"...and about Andreas Vasco."

The admiral turned around.

"Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell."

"Funny how a name that doesn't ring a bell can stop an admiral in his tracks. Let's not waste each other's time. You classified all information surrounding his birth. Why? What is he, like someone in the admiraty's love child or something? Did his parents violate some colony's one child policy?"

"I classify all kinds of things for no apparent reason. Gives me a sense of accomplishment at my age. And how the hell did you know that anyhow?"

"I have my means."

"Uh huh. And I don't suppose those means involved cracking a Federation computer database, did it?" He approached Daystrom, getting as far in his face as if he were an instructor and this was a first day recruit. The admiral could still be intimidating beyond belief when he wanted to be. "Let me be clear. You don't know what you think you know, and what you think you know, never happened."

"Whuh? Is that even a sentence?"

"And even if it did happen, you would go to jail for five years or pay a 50,000 credit fine to know it."

"The Enterprise knew Andreas Vasco."

"What?"

"The SS Enterprise. It recognized him. I was on the Kingfisher when we found the ship. Don't you follow the news?"

"I've been busy."

Daystrom laughed. It was a little piece of heaven to finally know something the admiral didn't. "Well, in any event, we were trying to open a door that had a retinal scanner and we were trying to override it. I didn't realize what had happened until I went back to get a piece of equipment I left in the door panel. That's when I realized that I what I had in mind wouldn't have worked. Someone long ago had severed all access panels and manual override. They put the computer on security lock down, and then smashed all the controls. Nothing would have been able to break in. But the Enterprise's computer scanned him, and let him in. That means Andreas Vasco was there before."

"Maybe the computer was just centuries old and it made a mistake. Think of that one, egghead?"

"No chance. That's the next thing I checked. The only thing still working on that ship was the security protocol."

The train intercom chimed eight times.

"Shit. Oh-eight-hundred hours."

He didn't have time to find Vasco. He had to head right for the Sky's End court house.

"I'd love to stay and feed this paranoid episode of yours, which I do find entertaining, but unfortunately I have a court martial to attend and they won't start without me."

The train car came to a stop. When the doors swished open, headed out onto the platform.

Daystrom sat back down. Nearby, unseen by both Daystrom and Admiral Cash, was a man who had heard every word. On the other side of the train car, the middle eastern man sat with a news reader slate held up in front of his face. But as soon as he was confident that Daystrom has gone out when the train reached the next stop, Reza Parsi started typing in his message feed. He had heard rumors already that something shady was going on with the Enterprise. Now this takes it to a whole other level.

"DEVELOPING...SS ENTERPRISE CARRYING SUSPICIOUS CARGO. ADMIRAL WORRIED. POSSIBLE COVER UP UNDER WAY. SCIENCE ADVISER IMPLICATED?"

[Martin Sparrowha...]

[Venture Station - Sky's End Court House]
[Stardate 2259.74 - 0815 Hours]


Decatur stood.

"The government calls Jasmine Baker to the stand."

Jasmine Baker rose to her feet, to the hushed chatter of the crowd. A few even called out obscenities.

"Order in the court."

She stood up, and walked over to the court computer, and inserted her identification card.

"Baker, Jasmine. Serial number: L372-4291KW. Service rank: captain. Position: commanding officer, relieved. Current assignment: Starbase 13. Commendations: Anastas Medal of Achievement, Starfleet Medal of Valor, Starfleet Medal of Honor, Archer Ribbon for Conspicuous Bravery, Star Cross, Federation Star for Distinguished Service, Prentares Ribbon of Commendation, Grankite Order of Tactics, Legion of Honor, Star of Arcturus, Starfleet Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry, Starfleet Silver Palm with Cluster, Starfleet Citation for Exceptional Performance of Duty and the Andorian Battle Star."

"I should note.." Decatur added. "...for the record that the Andorian government has now formally revoked its awarding of the Andorian Battle Star to Captain Baker."

Baker took her seat in the witness box.

"Captain Baker, you've heard the charges against you. You now have the last word. So I'll ask you the question that is on the minds of everyone in this court room: How does one justify what you did?"

"Well Captain Decatur, and I want to thank the court for the opportunity to explain my decisions." Decatur lifted an eyebrow. This was an interesting approach for someone who had refused to even attend this court. "I'd like to start by citing Starfleet Regulation 3, paragraph 12 which gives a commanding officer authorization to preserve the lives of his or her crew by whatever means he or she feels necessary."

Decatur shook his head. He expected better.

"You know as well as I do that Regulation three applies only to the protection of Starfleet officers. It isn't applicable to the measures you took in regards to the civilian population who have constitutional rights of due process according to the Federation charter."

"I'm afraid, Captain Decatur, that Regulation 21, section 6, paragraph 4 says Federation security supersedes any rights or privileges of Federation citizens in a state of emergency."

"But captain, only the president can declare a state of emergency. Just like only the president can pardon someone of a crime, another privilege you somehow claimed for yourself."

"Again, I'm afraid you're wrong. Article 14, Section 31 of the Earth Starfleet Charter that provided the basis for our service defined a state of emergency and granted the commanding officer of a ship or base extraordinary measures to respond without the authorization of the civilian authority such as the president. These measures could be applied to Regulation 21 as stated."

Decatur rubbed his temples.

"Let's move on to the charge of authorizing murder." He sipped a glass of water. He hadn't expect this approach from her. "You told security officers and the Andoria's Pride thugs that you deputized---who I might add were not empowered by the rules of engagement---that if they spot any gang members on the most wanted list such as McFadden and his lieutenants or the leaders of the Sluggers to shoot to kill upon sight. Am I correct?"

"You're correct so far in that is what I said."

"But you understand that this amounts to a summary execution, which has no provision in either Earth Starfleet or in its present incarnation that allows this. Now there is no evidence that Starfleer officers followed this order, but Andoria's Pride thugs did. Now putting aside the additional disgrace that some of these Andorian gangbangers were little more than teenagers, and that the use of child soldiers is considered a war crime in according to interstellar treaties, the fact remains that you didn't tell leave a standing order to take anyone alive. Why is that?"

"I didn't want to give them a chance to fire back. That would mean a shooting war with civilians caught in the cross fire. It was both morally and legally the right thing to do."

"Legally? How's that?"

"There is legal precedent going back to Article 4 of the Third Geneva Convention that summary execution may be used against non-uniformed enemy combatants if they carry arms and accord themselves with the customs of war. The gangs, by their actions, did both."

"Were you by any chance supposed to teach a history course somewhere else at the same time today? I can't see how centuries old-"

"Further precedent is found 1985 Council of Europe Protocol to the European Convention on Human Rights which also allowed for summary execution 'in defence of any person from unlawful violence' and 'in action lawfully taken for the purpose of quelling a riot or insurrection'. Any participant in a gang war that threatened the safety of the entire civilian population met both criteria."

"Interesting. But we're not in on earth and this isn't the twentieth century. Technically those countries don't even exist anymore."

"No. But the Federation Charter's supremacy clause states that the laws of member worlds exist in perpetuity so long as they are not in conflict with Federation law. None of these precedents have been explicitly overturned by Federation courts since its founding, and thus they are still valid and enforceable."

"Someone has been cramming for the test."

A minor chuckle. But he felt something gnawing in the pit of his stomach. As she went on, he began to realize what she was doing. He had been out maneuvered.

"I simply just want to remind the court that all these are laws, laws enacted by legislators. And you see, at the end of the day this court really has no authority to overturn any of these laws or set precedent in a court martial, does it? It is only empowered to determine whether a previous law or regulation has been broken. Our laws aren't written in chalk to be erased and rewritten again at will, as you said yourself in your opening statement. We couldn't bend the law even if it was to get the devil himself. Your words, not mine."

She was right. And now he saw what her plan was. He knew there was something he had missed when he went to see her the night before. He had left an opening large enough to fly a starship through, one that he probably subconsciously dismissed as irrelevant. He had assumed that with her arrogant, self-righteous streak she wouldn't debate the legal fine points of what she did, but whether it was the right thing to do. In fact, she was arguing both. And she was doing it by pulling it all from his own opening statement, using every point he made against him. His case was now her case. And he would be left with nothing.

"You see, for one of us this is about the rule of law and order." She continued. "And for another, this is about appeasing an angry mob. This is about them." She pointed to those seated behind them. "It's about giving them their pound of flesh. Isn't that what you told me last night in my cell, away from the prying ears of this court? That it was personal for you? But I told you that you'd fail. And that when you fail, they won't be as forgiving as me. They will tear you apart. No one will be able to control what you've unleashed."

Murmurings in the crowd.

Cash banged his gavel. "You're answering questions now, Captain Baker. Not asking them." He turned to Decatur. "The government may continue."

Decatur closed his eyes. Stupid. So stupid. He couldn't believe how he had let it happen. He had promised hope, and now had let them all down again.

"Chris. Chris, did you hear me?"

There was only one choice now.

"You say that this is personal, Captain Baker. That it's personal for me, for the people of this station. You're right. And you know what else? So the hell what. Because it was always personal for you too. No matter how you try to justify yourself in the garb of law and order, this is about a scared little girl, running in terror toward a shuttle as the Narada tears her life apart. But you're punishing the wrong people. McFadden didn't destroy the Kelvin. Nero did. But he's dead now. And now you need someone, some new boogie man to fight."

"You little shit..."

The crowd erupted. Again Admiral Cash slammed his gavel down. The master at arms rushed over to restrain her.

"You don't know a thing about me!" She stood.

The Admiral cut her off. "I warn you, both of you. I don't care what game it is you're playing, what pissing match you think this is but by heaven you will stick to asking questions about the events at hand. You're playing with fire."

"One last question, captain. You said moments ago that you were allowed to shoot civilians under the law. What would you have done if one of your subordinates disobeyed?"

"I'd do no less than what the law demands that I do. There is ample legal precedent going as far back to Article 94 of the United States Uniform Code of Military Justice, which has not been expressly overturned, that I was bound to execute any of my crew who disobeyed the order under the charge of 'failure to suppress a mutiny'."

A gasp.

"Do you mean to tell us that you would have ordered one of your own officers to be shot if they refused, out of conscience, to murder a civilian?"

"Of course not..." She replied proudly, defiantly. "...I would have shot the little fucker myself."

The court room erupted into chaos. Suddenly chants of "Murderer! Murderer!" rang out.

"Order! Order, damnit!" Cash banged his gavel yet again. But the crowd only grew more loud.

"Master at arms, clear the court! I'm calling a recess. I want to see both the defense and prosecution in my chambers NOW."

TBC...

[Martin Sparrowha...]

[[Venture Station - Sky's End Court House]]
[[2259.74 - 0838 Hours]]

Even from in the judge's chambers, they could hear the crowd outside. Admiral Cash had had to clear the entire court room. Now he had brought them all in; Decatur, Baker's defense attorney, and the other two members of the court. Admiral Cash was fuming as he shut the door behind them.

"Son, you are poking a bee hive somethin' fierce. You think I'm stupid?" Cash poked a finger into Decatur's chest.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"This aint my first rodeo, Chris. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew you were going to lose. Your entire case was falling apart around you. So you switched gears. You wanted to cause a scene so I'd rule it a mistrial."

Decatur said nothing.

"Is this true?!" Baker's defense attorney shot up.

"Shut up, little man." Cash turned back to Decatur. "You've lost perspective, Chris. I hate to disappoint, but I have no intention of declaring a mistrial."

"Then what? Baker walks?"

"Not if you two reach a plea deal. But you won't, will you?" Cash shook his head.

"Any deal that has Baker leaving here anything but shackles is a deal that I won't be a party to." Decatur didn't hesitate.

"Alright then, let's put it to a vote." Cash turned to Admirals MacKenzie and Comsol. "Let's have a show of hands. All who vote to convict on all charges?" To Decatur's astonishment, only McKenzie put his hand up.

Decatur sat down in one of the two oak chairs in the room. He had seen it coming, but that didn't take the sting out of it.

"I can't believe this. We can't just let her go. Admiral, you would have never done what she's done. None of you would have. You know that."

"That's not the point." Cash sighed. "What she said in her testimony--and what you said in your opening statement--was right. We can't rewrite the law on a whim just to punish her. We don't have a choice."

"The hell we don't! You saw all those people out there. Tell me you could ever look them in the eye again. If you do this, they'll lose any hope that we've tried to restore these past few months. All the work we've done will be for nothing. They won't forgive us. They'll say that this is proof that Starfleet only cares about their own. And they'll be right."

But Cash's face didn't budge.

"I can't allow that to prejudice me. I'm sorry Chris."

"You're going to let her go."

"No, I'm not. She doesn't get off that easy. She's going to be thrown out of the service. And I'm going to write every member of the Federation Council and everyone in the Attorney General's office with a mailing address. I'm going to go out to the press and use the bully pulpit to tell anyone who'll listen that this should be a wake up call, that the policy makers need to reign in the authority given to commanding officers, because that authority is being abused. But we'll do it the legal way. Because we're better than she is. But now need to turn this over to the civilians. I'm sorry."

"Well, it's good to see you've finally decided to listen to reason." Baker's defense attorney beamed.

Cash grabbed him by his shirt.

"Unless you want to be swallowing your teeth, you're going to shut up right now."

When Cash reconvened the court, he did so to a nearly empty room. Still the mob could be heard chanting outside. Decatur and Baker's defense attorney gave their closing arguments. It all was empty pageantry to Decatur, all a forgone conclusion. Baker of course showed no emotion. She rose when Cash was ready to pronounce his verdict, staring icily. Through the closed circuit monitors, the entire station watched as Cash found her guilty of conduct unbecoming of an officer, guilty of unlawful detention, guilty of cruelty mistreatment of prisoners, guilty of contempt toward officials, guilty of damage to Federation property and guilty of failure to obey an order or regulation. When he sentenced her to the maximum allowable under the law, dishonorable discharge and time served, Baker showed no hint of relief. She had expected this just as much as Decatur had. And Decatur hated her all the more for it. No one would hear what Cash was to say afterward, telling all who listened exactly what he told Decatur, that this isn't the end but only the beginning of justice. The magnitude didn't set it until Cash clapped his gavel for the last time, and the screens went dark.

And then, all throughout the station, the voices erupted all at once.

***

[[USS Kingfisher - Bridge]]

Rachel Kim sipped the last of her coffee as she leaned over a data slate. She was a creature of the night, a habit she took to in her Academy days and there was no hope for changing now. She wondered if it had seemed presumptuous to have stayed in the captain's chair to watch over the repairs. Not that it bothered her. Hiding ambition only earns contempt. She was upfront about what she wanted, just as she expected everyone under her to be. She shook her empty cup. She hated the idea of having to head back to the rec bay, but she doubted there was a yeoman within shouting distance. She was about to stand up when she noticed a figure nearby.

"You almost scared the hell out of me."

It was Vandermeer, the chief of the work crew. He had a hose coiled over his shoulder and a bag of tools in his other hand. He was older than most of his contemporaries, with red cheeks and puffy eyes that made her suspect that he drank on the job.

"Sorry. I was going to say something, but you seemed pretty focused on what you were doing. I was just going to tell you we're finished for the day."

She rubbed her eyes, the way she always had to after she'd been staring at a computer screen for hours.

"Already?"

"It's almost oh-nine-hundred. Shift's over. Everyone else has left."

"Shit. Lost track of time."

"You should go get some sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead. Besides, all-nighters are the only time I can get anything done."

"My wife's like you. She used to stay up nights cleaning. She gave up when she married me. Guess she figured it was a lost cause." He paused. "Well, anyway, she's sail worthy again. I'll have a full report on your desk tomorrow. You know it's lucky you came back when you did. I mean brought the ship back when you did. When we started tearing things out I noticed that half the inertial dampers were about ready to give. These ships aren't made to take that kind of beating. The barrier could have shaken you guys to pieces."

She laughed.

"Oh, it wasn't so bad. Even had its high points. Vasco threw up twice on the way back. Priceless. In any event, I'll let you get back to that wife of yours again."

He nodded, and headed down the corridor. She returned to her report. It was probably the most important one of her career, now that she thought about it. Finding the SS Enterprise was the kind of attention an officer dreams of. She was a known woman to Starfleet Command now. If she parlayed this right, this could mean a promotion within the year. Probably the USS Iowa. They'd had trouble finding a captain and since Vasco turned down the job, she couldn't be far down on the list. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a noise. Like a piece of metal dropping. Then what was almost like two people whispering. Someone trying to hush someone else.

She got up. She had a cup to refill anyway.

"Let me guess. You forgot something."

It was then that she realized how alone she was right then and there. She felt suddenly vulnerable, and she didn't feel vulnerable easily. That's when she realized that even on gamma shift there was at least some background light. It shouldn't have been this dark. It's possible that they had shut off one of the power relays to avoid blowing a circuit.

And then she tripped over something on the deck. She looked over, and saw Vandermeer laid out beside her. His puffy eyes in a blank stare. Blood on his forehead. Then she sensed a shadow moving in the dark. She reached for her communicator, and realized that it was back on the bridge. Something jumped on top of her. She flailed about, punching and kicking blindly. Something crashed into the back of her head and she saw stars. She collapsed. The last thing she saw was her attacker's silhouette...

...a head with two antennae.

TBC

[Zyrell]

Hi all I have put together a little something to show where Intel has been the past little while. I have posted here please move it if it doesn't fit

For the past couple of weeks Irinia had been out of Contact with StarFleet. She had feared that the trial would be used as a further way to destroy the sanctity of this station. She had taken it on herself to go back undercover in the seedy underbelly that was the StarBase.

It had been a trying couple of weeks but she dared not turn up near the Trial or she would be forced to testify for the Prosecution on what she had discovered during her review of the situation. She was better at keeping in the background and letting Decateur take the full brunt of what the situation entailed.

Having found out information she knew she would want to hamstring Jasmine Baker. The fact that she had allowed lawlessness to be the station for her time as a commander here just seemed so bad. The fact that innocents had been killed and deprived of the proper protection they were due was a very hard fact. Being Intel she knew that eventually Baker would not be convicted for her part in the stations problems. The best they could expect would be a dismissal from Star Fleet.

Keeping herself away from the proceedings kept her Sanity and allowed her to go looking for other criminals that were part of the Captain’s old group. If she could find enough evidence of Pirates and the fact that murder was an authorized means of subduing issues then she might be able to convince others to make a public issue of this. She would need someone who could really get the masses going and she knew she wasn’t capable to doing it. Decateur wouldn’t like losing the Court case but if he could get enough support he might be able to force a Court of Public Opinions to force the Government to evoke certain measures that would prevent this in the future.

Moving through the station in her guise of a Fortune Teller was easy especially down below where people tended to come to her for advice especially when they knew that the Station personell were too busy with the Trial and other items. She knew she would have to report in again soon but she didn’t wish to go through the idiocy of the Trial. The fact that she had been investigating the Pirates and Gangs here now since she arrived was something vitally important not the trial of one crazed Captain.

She made her way to the facility she used as her rooms when she was undercover and entered. “Close.” She said and the door quickly closed “Secure door. Authorization Irinia Alpha Seven.” The door beeped and secured. “Computer open log”

I have been searching the station for any evidence of the pirates and gangs still operating here for the past two weeks. So far I have found little information in regards to those items and what there is seems to be older. As for the rules in which Baker went about this I can find no evidence that she went over her assigned duties. Though I have found ample evidence where she was working with Gang of Pirates and giving them more authorization then most of her security officers would have. I can also found no evidence to link her to the death of her former Chief of Security. Even though I would love to find some form or proof that she is ultimately responsible for the actions of those she deputized there is nothing that can be found. Her orders were based on prior laws of the UFP and will be hard to get her convicted.

As of now I will have to close off my investigation of what has happened and return to formal duty. At the express orders of the Head of Star Fleet Intelligence I have taken these actions. I will report back in tomorrow to the Commander of the station and let him know that I have left ways for people to contact me in the Civillian areas which can guarantee that I will be able to find out if the troubles start again.

Log End Lt Chusavitna.

[Martin Sparrowha...]

OFF: This is the first of a three part JP between Zyrell and I. Sorry about the wait everyone. This one has been a hard one to write. The next two installments will be coming tomorrow.


ON:

[Venture Station - Sky's End Court House]
[[Stardate 2259.74 - 1026 Hours]

Decatur sat alone on a bench outside the court room. Outside you could hear the crowd growing, becoming louder and angrier. He held his officer's cap in has hands, his brief case at his side. He realized that until this very moment, he hadn't once stopped to think, just sat down deep in thought while on the station. He remembered the boy in the Bakerville slum that he walked passed one night coming home from work. He lived in a scrap metal shack, his mother saw Decatur's uniform and ushered him into the house. The boy flashed a peace sign and smiled back at him. He thought of a girl he'd seen who every night would gather used power cells in the park to recycle to pay for her family's rent after her father had been wounded and disabled in one of the gang cross fires.

He thought of body bags with Federation flags draped over them. Most of all, he thought of what they would do now that he'd let them all down.

His communicator beeped, and he ignored it. It must have went on for a while, because finally a voice next to him spoke up, followed by an elbow into his ribs.

"You going to answer that damned thing?"

Decatur looked to see an older man sitting beside him. A face weathered and cracked by time and fate. He had a mining jumpsuit on, with a patch that identifying the man as being from the mining colony on Rigel XII. He was covered in filth. It was a face he hadn't expected or wanted to ever see again.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I know what they're going to say."

"And what's that?"

"That a crowd is surrounding the court house, probably with a rope in hand. An angry lynch mob demanding Baker. That all throughout the station there's rioting, looting. Wails of anger and pain. That it's all because of me."

"Yeah, you really screwed the pooch today. It stings something awful, don't it? From one failure to another, believe me I know."

"You weren't a failure. You tried to provide for your family."

"Bullshit. I dragged you and your mother halfway across known space chasing one dream after the next. Whether it was rigelian flame gems or a newly discovered dilithium deposit, or trillium, it all seemed to turn out the same way didn't it? So in the end I took the coward's way out."

"Not going to disagree with you there."

"You and your mom had nowhere to go. You had to live hand to mouth, scrape together a life out of the shattered one that I left you two. And you'd spend the rest of your days trying to change things, trying to help those who you think were like you. Powerless, vulnerable, alone, victims of fate with no one to turn to. I suppose I might have been proud. Or jealous, depending on if I'd been drinking..."

Decatur sat motionless and silent.

"But you can't take losing either. That's one thing you inherited from me. You were so afraid that all those people out there would feel abandoned, that they would lose all hope entirely, that you lost sight of what was important. And now you're wondering if you're like me. That you're leaving all those people out there without any help, just like I left you. That's why I'm here now, isn't it?"

"She tried to warn me. She actually told me last night that she was going to win. She offered me one last chance. I think she wanted to spare me, thinking it was the honorable thing to do. You believe that? But the more I saw it slipping away, I just... In the end I used the only weapon I had left. I used them against her. I got her to say exactly what would make the crowd go crazy."

"A moment of weakness."

Decatur swallowed hard. "A moment of selfishness. And now what's going to happen to her? She'll spend some time on the lecture circuit, probably write her memoirs, appeal her discharge all the way to the Federation Supreme Court. It's become a crusade to her now, don't you know. And meanwhile what happens to them? Those who aren't media stars. The widows and orphans, starving, jobless, dispossessed, fearful and tossed aside. What's going to become of her victims?"

"Then I suppose you have a decision to make. What did he tell you after I died? The doctor."

"That you tried to kill yourself. In the mines."

"After that. Remember. You told everyone at the swanky big to-do about it when the admiral arrived."

"Since you're just a figment of my imagination, you already know."

"Just say it."

"A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away."

"So what are you going to do? You going to sit around feeling sorry for yourself, you going to be a coward like your dad? There's people who need you right now."

He opened his eyes. He looked up, and instead of his father he saw standing before him was Admiral Cash.

"You alright, kid?"

"Sorry, I was just lost in thought for a moment."

The admiral started to open his mouth.

"No. I know what you're going to say."

Decatur stood up, straightened his uniform and flipped open his communicator.

"Ops, Decatur."

"Decatur, this is LeFortescue. Where the hell have you been?"

"Did we ever get the internal transporter working again after it was bombed in the gang war?"

"Not to full capacity."

"How many can it take?"

"One at a time. Maybe just one at all."

"Shit. We need to get both the admiral and Baker out of here. Eventually someone's going to break down the doors, and they're not going to make it through that crowd."

"I'm not going anywhere." The Admiral blanched.

At that moment, Decatur became aware of the sound of foot steps behind him. Heels, definitely not Starfleet issue, high enough that you can walk into a seedy bar or night club unnoticed, enough so that you turn heads but can still get nasty if you have to, with a gait that signaled confidence just short of a swagger, the practiced strut of an intelligence officer who had picked up the body language of the street. It was a walk that he had heard many times before walk into Ops. He smiled and turned around.

"Well look who finally decided to show up. You're still out of uniform though." Decatur had missed her during the trial. He could've used her. But she was a spook, half the time he didn't know where she was, and didn't have the clearance to find out anyway.

Irinia glared back.

“The uniform still doesn’t fit right, sir. And you will be glad that I am out of uniform when you hear what I have to say. We have many issues so I won’t keep you in suspense. My sources say that Andoria’s Pride is still operating on the station and planning something large scale. I haven’t been able to pinpoint an exact area or what they are after and I still have my stable of little birds running around looking for them. Also the XO Commander Kim is missing and I have a bad feeling that they could be related.” Irinia said.

She wasn’t very pleased it seemed that the stability was eroding again that this station had gained since the arrest of the former commander.

"Whatever they're planning, it's got to involve Baker." He turns to the communicator. "Get Baker here, no shackles. Bring her down in civvies, dressed like a slum dweller. Have a ground car brought around back. We just need to get her to that."

"Understood."

"And lock on to this communicator and prepare for site to site transport directly to Ops."

"Hey admiral, how are your reflexes?"

"Is that some kind of an old jo-"

Before Cash realized what Decatur had done, the communicator was in mid air hurtling toward him. Instinctively he caught it.

"Energize."

TBC...


A joint post between Zyrell and Martin Sparrowhawk

[Jobe]

ON

[[ Sky's End Courthouse (Terrestrial Dome) | Starbase 013 ]]
[[ 2259.074 | 1026 hours ]]

"I would have shot the little fucker myself."

In that moment, Walker was glad she'd been discharged. Not because it was a much lighter sentence than she might otherwise have served, but because he needed to talk to her person to person rather than officer to officer, and as long as she was an officer, Walker knew that she'd never have such a conversation that wasn't on her terms. 'Neither would I.'

But he was also her elder by over a decade, and he could help her. 'Must be the instructor in me,' he'd thought. So he'd waited in the courthouse while the electrical hum coming from the bulkheads gave way to muffled rumblings of discontent on the other side of them; a rain-like white noise that was escalating into a storm. Walker wondered how much longer it would until the first sound of thunder.

It wasn't thunder but the hissing of the nearby doors that punctuated the rumbling. "My esteemed attorney told me that you were here." It was Baker, still in uniform, and still in shackles. "They're dragging my feet to process my release," she explained. "Like children you have to drag kicking and screaming to get their shots."

Walker didn't look at her as much as he looked past her at nothing in particular. He said nothing, and Baker let out an exasperated sigh. "Say what you have to say, Lieutenant."

It was not lost on Walker that Baker still referred to him in that special tone that was only used by someone who held a higher rank, and something else in her voice made it clear that it wasn't simply out of habit. "You told me you didn't play games," Walker said flatly.

Baker's lips contorted into an expression that was exactly half amusement and half bemusement. "Surely you haven't been waiting all this time just to defend your precious judicialis."

"Don't taunt me, Jasmine," he spat. It was the first time he'd ever spoken her real name aloud, reiterating just what she'd lost today. But it was clear even as he said it he wasn't reminding Baker of anything she didn't already know, or even anything that bothered her. "This isn't about your—about our—legal tactics. This is about you taking Decatur's bait!"

"It's a shame you weren't on the panel. You could've carded me for poor sportsmanship instead of Decatur."

Walker read between the lines, just as he was now sure Decatur had in the courtroom. This was an argument he was not going to win. In getting Baker to consider participating in her own trial, Walker had defined himself as a supporter of the system. That system placed the blame for that… scene at the end of the trial at Decatur's feet, and it wasn't wrong, at least not entirely. And now he wanted to blame her?

There was a empty bench nearby. He sat.

"We both know that this is about something simpler than why I said what I said," Baker said, her normally curt tone replaced by what Walker recognized as prodding; coaxing him to come up with the right answer… or rather, the "right" answer.

"I would have shot the little fucker myself."

"Would you have?" Walker asked, but it was practically a rhetorical question.

"Yes. That's the job that comes with the stripes. The part of it they're either too deluded or too scared to teach at the Academy, anyway. I have a responsibility to order, and when someone stands in the way of that…" Her jaw tightened, and she didn't finish.

Walker stood and stepped towards her as though he was treading on shattered glass. At first, it seemed that she didn't register that he'd moved, or that he was even still in the corridor. He took another step, and Walker swore he could hear the sharp crutch of the imaginary glass as Jasmine's head jerked and her gaze met his.

"I would do it all again," she snapped. "And then some."

"I know," he said.

"And stop," she said firmly. She lifted her hands, not so much as a stopping motion as an indicator of Walker's body language, as though he were a diorama in a Starfleet museum. Jasmine's cruel smile returned, but without any trace of confusion.

Walker opened his mouth to speak, but found he did not actually have anything to say. After an awkward pause, he let the air he'd inhaled rush out in an embarrassed sigh.

"Simpler," she said. It was a colder prod than the last one, but Walker got the point. He'd thought she'd meant that it was as simple as what she said rather than why, but it turned out to be even simpler than that. And she'd known it even before he had.

"Ms. Baker." It was a security officer. "Captain Decatur needs you downstairs; he has a plan for getting you out of here." Under the officer's arm was a set of civilian clothes. In his hand was a key card, presumably for the shackles.

The implications of the props were clear to both Walker and Baker. "Does he suspect sabotage to the STS transporters?" Baker asked. "Or are the damn things still broken?"

"Please, Ms. Baker." The security motioned for her to go first.

"Broken. Of course," Baker strode past the red shirt. "Mark my words," she said, not to the red shirt, and not to Walker, but to nobody in particular. "Decatur won't be able to hold this hell together for another week."

She left, and the security officer followed. She didn't look back, and Walker watched her go.

OFF

[Martin Sparrowha...]

[Venture Station - Sky's End Court House]
[Stardate 2259.74 - 1118 Hours]


Jasmine Baker pushed the cloak away.

"The hell I will."

Irinia rolled her eyes. "Let's just knock her out and carry her out of here."

"Don't tempt me, Irinia." Decatur turned back to Baker. "Jasmine, listen to me. If you don't put on that cloak and come with us out of here, they're going to lynch you."

"Good. Let's see them try. Give me a weapon and throw open the doors."

"Okay, let's put that little martyr complex of yours on hold for the moment. I know it's hard to believe, I have a sense of honor too. And I'm not going to let you get fed to the lions."

Irinia hid a grin as she knew that if push come to shove she would gladly have turned over Jasmine to the crowd if she thought it would do any good. Thankfully she knew better then to even attempt that. It would merely stall the inevitable not counteract it.

He draped the cloak around her shoulders, and bringing it around and over her face.

"You're asking me to sneak out of here like some lepper. Hiding in shame, afraid to face an angry rabble."

"No, I'm not asking you anything. I'm telling you. Neither one of us want you to die today. Besides, if you did you'd miss out on telling everyone how right you think you are for the rest of your life, wouldn't you?"

"Admit it, part of you enjoys seeing my like this."

"I thought that went without saying."

"Captain." Irinia interjected. "They're pulling up the prisoner transport vehicles out front now. We'll have maybe five minutes to head out the back and get to the ground car that's waiting before the crowd realizes it's a diversion." Irinia knew she could distract them other ways but it would never last long enough this was the only chance that they had.

"Well it's now or never, I suppose."

As they opened the building's rear doors, and the group rushed forward. Three security officers were waiting, and motioned them to hurry. Decatur pulled his officer's cap down to obscure his face as best as he could. The crowd was much sparser here, but still too many for comfort. They were packing the sides of the building and facing away, trying to catch a glimpse of the supposed prisoner transfer that was taking place out front. The morning sunlight, artificial as it was, felt good on his face. There were sparrows chirping in the trees. He calculated their odds of going unnoticed at perhaps 50/50 at best. And as they walked down the steps toward the waiting ground car, he thought once again of his father. A man can't decide what his fate will be, only if he'll face it or not. That's how he had tried to live every day of his life. He exhaled deeply. The terrestrial dome smelled like spring. He wondered how they managed that, if there was some kind of solar cycle that the environmental system had worked in. It was a beautiful day.

The first moment he realized something was wrong was Irinia stopped. She had been scanning the crowd, and did a near double take. Slowly she began wishing that she had a weapon that was better then a simple knife that she used down below.

"What is it?"

"Nothing...I mean, I thought I saw a familiar face. Someone I'd seen before. Let's keep walking."

"Who was it?"

"Oh, I think it was someone I saw when I was undercover. I had an identity as a fortune teller. It was an old woman who had lost a child. I told her everything would be alright."

"You lied."

Irinia glared "Hope is almost always a lie. That doesn't make it any less needed. The lady needed some closure and that was the best way to allow her to begin to heal."

They walked on. A moment later, he saw a face. Something formed of almost pure hate.

"There, is that her?"

Irinia nodded.

Decatur lifted his communicator.

"All security personnel, move toward the crowd forming around the back. There's an old woman-"

"Captain, look! Over there! See those people in morning hoods? They're Andorians."

"Are you sure?"

"Their faces are painted, you can tell around the eyes. Blue tear ducts. And you can see the imprint of antennae underneath their hoods when they move."

"You're right. Andoria's Pride?"

"It has to be."

"All security personnel, be advised. Multiple suspicious parties in the crowd. I need everyone here now."

And that's when they saw people were pouring in from all around. The mob had realized what was out front was a diversion.

They broke into a run. They were mere meters from the ground car when he heard the high pitched squeal sweep past his head. He turned and saw the old woman. That face of pure hate, now directed right at Baker. She had something in her hand, which was now smoking. He could make out a barrel of some kind. He raised his phaser Irinia had given him, but she was surrounded by the crowd. He couldn't be assured of a clean shot if he set it to kill, and was too far away for the stun setting to be effective.

"Get down!" Irinia yelled, but it was too late. The woman aimed again. Decatur closed his eyes. Without thinking, Decatur pushed Baker to the ground and lunged forward. A flash. Another high pitched squeal, followed by a moment of blinding pain.

Decatur fell to the ground.

He heard the sparrows chirping.

He felt again the sun on his face.

And, just for a moment, he thought he a familiar old man standing over him, his hand reached out. Decatur lifted his hand to meet it, and his fingers grasped only air before they fell to the ground beside him. To the onlookers, he appeared as if he were about to say something, before his eyes went blank and he let out his last breath.

TBC...

[Zyrell]

The woman looked down at Decatur on the ground, then looked up again at Baker. She lowered the weapon to fire again. Baker pounced, grabbing the weapon by the barrel and crashing her fist into the woman. A struggle ensued. Pandemonum broke out all over the crowd as they realized that someone was shooting. Fleeing in all directions, that followed could only be described as a stampede. As Baker fought to take the weapon away, another shot was fired, blowing off her hand that had gripped the top of the barrel. A beam of deflected radiation singed the entire right side of Baker's face. She screamed in agony. Irinia saw her opportunity and threw herself into the old woman, tackling her to the ground. She ripped the weapon from the woman, threw the woman onto her back and dug her knee into her back. She cuffed the woman. Her face pressed into the dirt, Irinia could see the woman's eyes filled with tears. She could feel the pain of the old lady this was a horrid mistake one that would cost her dearly. She had lost her child earlier now she would lost what’s left of her life for the death of Captain Decatur.

"No no no. Not him. It wasn't supposed to be him.

Irinia lifted her gaze. The crowd had largely dispersed, fleeing in terror....

...and Jasmine Baker was nowhere in sight.

Irinia swore in Romanian quickly trying to see where she could have fled. She would do her own investigation soon enough though with this foul up she might very well not be allowed to work this case.

She stood up and ran over to Decatur. Crouching over him, she felt for a pulse. She knew it was unnecessary. The burn mark in the center of his chest and the lack of breathing told her everything.

"Irinia to Ops. Put out a bulleton for Jasmine Baker. She's fled the scene." She closed Decatur's eyes.

"And also be advised...Captain Decatur has been killed."

Irinia moved back over to the old lady and pulled her up to her feet as gently as she could. “Be silent and tell no one anything ask for a lawyer when questioned” She didn’t use her persona voice that the lady would have recognized.



a joint post by Martin Sparrowhawk and Zyrell

[Martin Sparrowha...]

[Venture Station - Ops]
[Stardate 2259.74 1129 Hours]

"And also be advised...Captain Decatur has been killed."

Life happens in bursts, Admiral Cash once told his nephew, years of boredom interspersed with moments of sheer panic. For most of human history, people have live their lives in quiet desperation waiting for something to happen to them. Some people are good at enduring the boredom, while others the panic. Admiral Cash was a special breed. Even those moments of panic, where everything seemed to be crashing down around him, even those too he felt boring.

Since being beamed to the Operations Center, he was he had found that the station was quickly spiraling out into chaos. It was like the gang war all over again. A security depot in Sky's End had been torched. Starfleet officers were being openly attacked on sight in some sectors of the station. They had instituted emergency measures, including a curfew.

"Turning and turning, the widening gyre..." He muttered under his breath.

But Decatur's death went beyond mere anarchy. The Operations Center had now come to a halt. People could take many things, so long as there was someone there to rally them to the cause. How many battles had been lost when an army's leader had been struck down? And while he knew that the duty now fell to him, he was also aware that his proximity to the situation would compromise any leadership he could offer. Some in this room would blame him for Decatur's death. He was fairly certain that he might even agree with them when all was said and done. But it doesn't do anyone any good to second guess himself during a crisis. Others would view him as having a conflict of interest. And his role as Fleet Commander didn't help either. He looked around at their faces, and saw that while they would trust Cash's ability to command, he couldn't pick up the proverbial banner.

"Alright people, we still have a job to do here. There's tens of thousands of civilians who now need us to keep it together. I won't ask anything of you that Decatur wouldn't if he were here.

He turned to the security station.

"LeFortescue, get reinforcements to the area where the shots were fired, call up all personnel not on duty if you have to. Not just security. We need every available man and woman with a phaser rifle in hand. And someone tell me how the hell Baker got away. I don't buy that she just slipped out, even if Andoria's Pride had helped her. She's the most famous and hated person aboard the station. She shouldn't have made it five steps before someone lynched her."

"It's possible she was beamed." A man replied who Cash thought he remembered was the chief engineer. Cash didn't recall his name. "We got an alarm on what looked like a transporter used not far away."

"Not a chance in hell. The transporters were offline after they beamed me here."

The man shrugged. "Then not station transporters then. Another ship."

Cash paced. "Irinia said something about Commander Kim disappearing. Computer, last known location of Commander Kim?"

"Commander Kim was last detected on board the USS Kingfisher."

"The only reason we wouldn't be able to detect her is if her biosigns were low to the point of death. She must have been ambushed."

"Use override codes to disable the Kingfisher's bridge controls! Then hail them."

"No response. Command override has failed. They must have cut all communications, including telemetry and remote control." Her panel beaped. "Wait, I think they realized their hand has been tipped. They're trying to release all moorings."

"Put a goddamned tractor beam on them. We sure as hell won't let them use it as Baker's getaway car."

The station rocked.

"They've disabled our emitter. They're jumping to warp."

"Fire photons!"

But he knew it was too late. LeFortescue shook her head.

"Alert Commander, Starfleet. Signal every ship in the fourth fleet to intercept that ship. Tell them Jasmine Baker is aboard and considered a threat to Federation security."

"I wouldn't do that." A voice called out as it entered the room. "You're going to need those ships here. In one hour every major power in the quadrant is going to be declaring war on the Federation, for breach of interstellar accords on the development of genocidal weapons of mass destruction."

It was Andreas Vasco.

"Forget the Kingfisher, you need to stop the Enterprise."

TBC.