Chapter 10: Toe The Strategic Line (Part 2)

Posted on 11/18/2012 @ 8:22am by Captain Tyrel Sterling & Lt. Commander Ray Pasqual & Lt. Commander Brian Archer
Edited on on 11/22/2012 @ 8:03am

Mission: The Resurrection of Icarus
Location: Federation Space traveling to Starbase 39
Timeline: 2388

As they traveled on their journey back toward the Starbase the bridge of the Icarus was full of focused activity as the bridge crew were industriously completing the final phases of their system-wide diagnostic evaluations along with members in departments throughout the ship, and then posting reports to their department heads. Sterling had been spending time back in his Ready Room reading through the completed evaluations from each department as they arrived, and was pleased to see that so far it appeared they had this ship now functioning in top notch form. He then cross-referenced the data into the report he was creating to present to the brass upon their arrival to Starbase 39. This would be some positive news to share, which he was certainly lacking in other areas up to this point in the mission.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the captain stepped back onto the main bridge and meandered around as he briefly conferred with officers on duty at each station. As he completed his round, he settled back down onto the center seat.

One deck below with the guidance and supervision from the remaining Icarus security standing in the corridor, Cadet Thran and two other security guards personally escorted Ambassador S’Lartus to the turbolift and engaged it upward to the main bridge.

A few moments later the turbolift doors opened wide. So did the eyes of the majority of the bridge officers who witnessed as an elderly Romulan ambassador stepped out onto the bridge, escorted by a security team.

Witnessing his crews’ surprised reaction, Captain Sterling immediately swiveled his position. Seeing the ambassador emerging from the turbolift, he stood up from the center seat and swiftly walked over to greet the Romulan dignitary.

“Ambassador S’Lartus,” Sterling stated with a somewhat confused expression emerging across his face. “I thought that you were still below participating in the summit discussion. What is going on ambassador?”

He looked intently at the Captain and stated solemnly “It would seem young Captain that this summit ended before it even started.”

The look of perplexity grew to a deeper level as the response provided by the elderly Romulan seemed to raise more questions than it did to make available an understandable answer.

All but Counselor pasqual. With his knowledge of Romulan, Klingon and Federation psychology and socilogy, his undertanding of the social and political structure of each galactic power and his front row seat in the recent events up to this final meeting, he already knew what could ienvitably happen.

It was sad... yet reassuring. The Romulan ship hadn't started firing on them to announce the first day of an intergalactic war.

but it had been damn close.

Before Sterling could respond back, Ambassador S’Lartus inquired “Is there somewhere nearby Captain where I could sit and we could talk in private for a few moments?”

Sterling could see that the old Romulan looked weary and felt like a dimwitted rookie for not offering him this option upon his arrival to the bridge.

“Certainly Ambassador. Let’s go to my Ready Room.” He walked slowly as he gestured the way to the elderly ambassador.

As they arrived Sterling whispered to Thran to stay posted outside of his door with his security team. Thran subtly nodded an acknowledgement as they immediately positioned themselves as sentries outside the entrance of the room.

The elderly Romulan diplomat entered into the Ready Room and gratefully sat down with a slight sigh of relief.

The Captain immediately offered him a choice of beverages.

Of all of the beverages available, he requested prune juice. Perhaps it had the same… benefit on other species as well, Sterling considered.

The elderly Romulan then proceeded to provide the captain with a brief synopsis of the events and nature of the brief and mostly volatile dialogue that occurred leading to the swift ending of the summit. The questions and answers then went back and forth for several minutes before a hushed silence fell between them.

As they sat quietly on opposite sides of the small desk the old Romulan looked intently at the captain. Then, as if coming out of nowhere in particular, the older statesman inquired “You do not know who I am, do you, Captain?”

Somewhat puzzled, the Captain replied “According to our earlier introduction, you stated that you are the Romulan Ambassador S’Lartus… other than that I do not know specifically what you are referring too.”

Nodding affirmatively, he replied “This much is true… but allow me to elaborate, Captain. My name is S’Lartus Radiak. I am the son of the former Praetor D'Maiell Radiak’s from your grandfather’s time.”

Then as if unveiling a shroud upon a secret he divulged “I was that younger man that your grandfather rescued from that distressed ship almost a century ago.”

Sterling was once again stunned into silence. How could this be? His family’s past brought forward into this mission somehow once again?

S’Lartus sat and slowly continued to sip the beverage provided by Sterling.

As he quietly sipped on the tart prune juice, S’Lartus looked inquisitively at Captain of the Icarus… trying to see traces of his grandfather presence within his bewildered face. A slight smile was elicited from the hardened face of the Romulan elder as he discovered subtle similarities within the eyes of Tyrel Sterling.

With the gleam in his eye carefully tucked away, S’Lartus inquired “Do you possess the dathe'anofv-sen… er… the Honor Blade my father presented to your grandfather after my safe and rather unexpected return back from the damaged ship to Romulus?

Returning from his inner thoughts and refocusing into the present, Sterling looked up at the elder Romulan.

“If you had asked me about this gift prior to our mission, I would have had no idea what you were referring to, Ambassador.”

Sterling then stood up as he walked deliberately toward the case, but then turned around and chose first to briefly explain to S’Lartus how he had been presented with the case and the blade along with the accompanying tale from Admiral Kelek on Starbase 39 at the start of the mission.

The gleam then subtly slipped back into the eyes of the elder Romulan as he listened attentively to the story he had lived those many years ago in his youth. The irony of being rescued in many respects once again, but this time at the hands of the grandson of Marcus Sterling was not lost on this senior Romulan diplomat; and despite all of their unfortunate current circumstance, it was… appreciated.

As Sterling laid the crafted Romulan case on the table before S’Lartus Radiak, the aged Romulan diplomat gazed intently and appreciatively at this symbolic gift that he recalled his father designed and prepared soon after his return to Romulus as he spoke reflectively.

“Many in the Senate bellowed angrily that this gesture was far too grand; especially for an outsider and a perceived enemy at that. Therefore, considering the level of opposition and acrimony that followed, this incident was never spoken of again after it was finally presented. All accounts of this encounter were ultimately wiped clean from our records; as if they never occurred. But seeing this case once again before me… the truth is etched and captured throughout the words and symbolism of this gift; despite any recorded or spoken history long since removed.”

As he opened the case and saw the blade for the first time since his youth, S’Lartus was surprisingly overcome with long-buried emotions. His father, the tough-as-nails Praetor D'Maiell Radiak was long since deceased. Yet despite his robust and at times fear-inducing demeanor, the former Praetor had a gentle and compassionate spot for his only son. The honor blade itself, S’Lartus recognized, was a representation of the genuine appreciation his father felt toward Marcus Sterling for demonstrating the compassion and courage to rescue and return his son in the face of eminent danger. Surprisingly D'Maiell felt a kinship to this human, along with respect.

S’Lartus also quietly respected his father’s gesture, and even more so as he studied the engravings and the messages conveyed.

Scrutinizing the fine details of the honor blade, S’Lartus spoke.

“Your grandfather is the reason that I am here… not only in terms of among the living Captain, but on this specific mission. His gesture those many years ago affected both my father’s and my perspective on human beings as a whole… just as your being here now in some ways may further affect future generations of Romulan viewpoint: even if these occur in merely subtle and almost imperceptible ways and despite the hasty manner in which this summit has ended; with harsh words… full of suspicion.”

The Romulan elder then sighed. “There is however just too much negative history, distrust, and spilled blood between our people at this juncture Captain to bring about any significant change. Hell… even among our own limited collection of people… as we have seen here.”

Another long silence then fell between these two individual from two different worlds; until S’Lartus looked inquisitively at Sterling and initiated an additional inquiry.

“Whatever became of your grandfather Marcus after our chance encounter, young Sterling?”

The Captain just sat there… speechless… wondering.

How do I explain to someone that knew my grandfather that I don’t even know what exactly happened to him?

A few solemn and reflective moments later, Sterling merely replied “He passed away many years ago.”

But the old Romulan was astute and could sense the pain and anguish that accompanied the Captain’s simplistic response.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the Federation officer, S’Lartus almost whispered.

“Sometimes, Captain, we must persist to find the answers to the questions that taunt us. Sometimes we must push and persevere in ways that are uncomfortable and even dangerous as wefight to dig out the truths that are often buried deep for the sake of many while at the expense of the few… or even the one.”

It was as if these quietly spoken words were akin to an electrical shock that had just jolted Tyrel Sterling to his core… to his marrow and electrified his thoughts and senses. He could feel his heart racing somewhat faster and sense his respiration increase as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.

Sensing the impact of his words, the old Romulan Ambassador quickly changed his focus back to the blade that rested coolly within his grasp. After carefully placing the blade back into the case, the elder Romulan looked back up to the Captain of the Icarus and switched the direction of the conversation entirely.

“Regardless of our many differences Captain, there are some fundamental commonalities that our species do share; regardless of all that has been said below one deck or even before… and despite of all the denial that would be raised by each side if pressed on this issue. Eventually at some point in the future, it will be these simple things that we have in common that will serve as the building blocks of a prospective peace that may be forged among our people; even if it takes generations of our population and centuries of additional time to pass for us to begin to achieve this. Nevertheless, and perhaps I am a foolish and senile old man like Ambassador Ruwon and others seem to believe, but I foresee that there will be a time when we will all evolve beyond our petty prejudices and indifferences and learn to work together. The timing is just not there at this point in time, and chances are that neither you nor I will even live long enough to see this come even partly into fruition Mister Sterling.

Then with almost a gleam in his eye he noted. “But we can be among those that help to plant some seeds of hope and possibility toward a possible future of a more… peaceable existence.”

He then began to gingerly push himself up off of the seat.

“Meanwhile Captain… we’ll just have to contend with the bureaucrats, politicians, generals, war-mongers, spies, saboteurs, and even us old ambassadors continuing to muck things up.”

As he turned to leave, the old ambassador then stated softly yet prophetically: “But remember… the more we sweat in peacetime working toward achieving solutions young captain, the less we will bleed during actual war.”

With that sentiment noted, the elderly Romulan turned back and exited the room; escorted by the ship’s security team. He was later shuttled off of the Icarus and directly to the shuttle bay of the awaiting Romulan Blackwing.

What awaited S’Lartus upon his arrival back among his people? The Federation captain sitting in his leather-bound chair just did not know; nor was it really his concern at the moment.

As he leaned back slowly in the large chair, Sterling continued to ponder his own predicament. He had a full array of problems to contend with, including no contact with Starbase 39 or anyone else in the Federation. He did not need to take on the additional burden of any tenuous allies.

With that realization affirmed, the captain of the Icarus closed down his computer terminal and stepped out of the Ready Room. He walked purposefully back onto the main bridge and into the center seat.

“Steady as she goes Sublieutenant Falcar,” the captain uttered, as he gazed into the main viewscreen at the familiar stars of Federation space as they continued to travel at a high warp velocity toward Starbase 39.

After his exchange with Ruwon Brian finished his report to Sterling on the mission to Khii including the death of the terrorist commander Sa'arvik. He knew after he filed it that the report would likely get him at least a board of inquiry, if not a full blown court martial, but Brian had taken the actions he had taken for a reason and to him they were justified. Finished with that he met up with Cassie who was just leaving her quarters.

"You think we'll get promoted for this?" she asked jokingly

"I expect I'll end up in front of an inquiry board."

"Are you kidding? You did what you had to do."

"Yes, but I didn't do it the Starfleet way."

Cassie scoffed "If they want to hang you out to dry they can hang me with you."

"Don't be like that Cass, you're a hell of an officer with a good career ahead of you."

"So are you," she replied "never mind the awards in your record."

"I did my job Cassie, that's it."

Cassie got the impression that the conversation was over and so she didn't say anything more. The duo made their way to the bridge, and without a word relieved the two tactical officers on duty. Archer looked over the tactical board, and initiated diagnostics on the ship's weapons and security systems, and then he reported to Sterling.

"Captain, Ambassador Ruwon and his party have returned to the Blackwing."

Sterling turned to face his security and tactical chief; checking over his condition carefully.

“Well Lieutenant Commander, it would seem what little bit of rest that you managed to squeeze in has served you well.”

Then addressing the updated status from Archer he noted.

“…and yes… I had a brief meeting with Ambassador S’Lartus myself… after the summit ended. It seems our best efforts and intentions Brian were just not enough to compensate for all of the many other factors existing well beyond our control… not that this is a great surprise to any of us here. However, no one can reasonably claim that we didn’t at least try our best.”

Then gazing at the IRW Blackwing, in a flash it suddenly warped beyond range of the viewscreen.

The captain leaned in and added “However… I would certainly like to be a fly on the wall as the Romulan Ambassadors present their perspective on these events, including our all too brief summit, to the Imperial Senate. I am certain that this would be rather interesting.”

"I think it will be Sir, I had a meeting of sorts myself, with Ruwon," Archer replied with a half smile. "I believe he will give the Senate a reason to continue to work with us Sir."

“As will Ambassador S’Lartus,” Sterling responded.

“But like us, they will be facing much opposition…likely even more intense and lethal. But hopefully, their voices will at least be heard.”

"But only in time," then chimed in Counselor Pasqual coming also to the center seat, overhearing the exchange. "There will still be much suspicion and shadowplay for years, if not decades to come... but at least, it will be far better than the storm of fire and blood that we were headed into."

He looked directly at his commanding officer.

"That's where we were headed, Captain Sir. More than that; I suspect now that we were meant to be the lightning rod that would have brought down heaven's fires upon us all. But, unfortunately for whoever was stirring up the storm, there were still a few men of good conscience left to chase the clouds away. Well, the sky is still pretty cloudy... but there will be no thunderstorm... although we will get pretty wet in the next few days... especially you, Captain Sir."

The whole speech was certainly poetic; but the truth implied between the flowery sentences was plain enough.

“And if this is so Mister Pasqual, we have indeed disappointed many in power for a reason other than what they will likely acknowledge.”

Looking solemnly at his two key officers standing close beside him at the center seat, he acknowledged “It would seem that these dark days are far from over for us. If fact, I would speculate that in some ways, the worse may be yet to come.”

"We'll be ready... unfortunately for them," promised Ray with a shark-like grin, "because, whether they like it or not, we are Starfleet officers; we are here to ensure peace among the stars. And worse for them; because we are Starfleet officers, our first duty is and will be to the Truth."

“Agreed Counselor… which if this pattern of deception continues from the past into the future… those high ranking officials possibly involved in the Federations incarnation of shadow-play will be intent to keep their hidden agendas concealed… which could mark us as mighty dangerous targets.”

"Not could, Captain Sir; we are already marked for retribution, have no doubt about it. We might not have successfully helped to bring any lasting peace to the galaxy... but we thwarted their plans for war... whoever they are. We won the first round by a few points; the next one, they will go in for the kill."

“Or so it would seem Counselor… since we didn't do as they had expected: die or fail in our attempt to prevent this war from breaking out. Now the question is… how do we proceed from here?”

The Orion officer winked at his captain.

"As always in such a case, Captain Sir; back to the source."

"It might not hurt to question the remaining delegates once we arrive back at Starbase Thirty Nine Sir." Archer suggested "The Ferengi and the Federation Ambassadors may be able to tell us something. Though I would suggest someone other than myself question the Federation ambassador, he doesn't like me much."

“Good points from each of you” Sterling acknowledged, as he pondered the recommendation.

“However, we may need to speak to the delegates while they are still aboard this ship… before they are potentially influenced or nullified any further by whatever is going on at the Starbase. If those involved on Starbase 39 become aware that these delegate are now present on this vessel, they may break their silence in an attempt to contact them anytime… and perhaps even order their silence.”

Turning toward Archer, the captain added with a grin “Don’t worry Mister Archer… they probably won’t like any of us; especially once we start questioning them.”

"Might as well be me then," said Counselor Pasqual as he saluted with a nod and went to the turbolift. "Nobody likes me anyway."

"Shall we conduct a debriefing slash interrogation then Counselor?" Archer said with just the smallest glint of amusement in his eye.

"Oooh, Sounds like fun," retorted Ray with the same glint in his own green eye.

“Anything we learn from them gentleman will be useful in some capacity; even if they clam up like an airlock.” Sterling added before he stepped into the lift.

The captain hesitated for a moment and then briefly turned around as he addressed the Ops officer.

“Take the conn Lieutenant Phelix”.

He then turned back to his accompanying officers.

“You are each welcome to start your... show once we arrive.”

At that moment the turbolift doors closed and the enclosure began its descent.

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Two hours later Brian Archer sat alone, once again, in the Icarus Security office. The ship was close to Starbase Thirty Nine, and Brian knew that once they arrived things were likely to get ugly. The sad part about it all, Archer knew, was that they'd been set up to fail. From the addition of a cadet, even a competent one, to a secret mission, to the nature of the mission in and of it self. Something about the whole thing stunk and despite that Brian knew that the crew of the Icarus, from Captain Sterling on down, was going to take the fall. Brian put his head in his hands...what a mess. Just then the terminal on his desk began to beep at him alerting of an incoming message. Brian hit the accept button, and the screen asked him for a decryption key. Brian saw where the call was coming from, Starbase 129, and he knew there was only person that would contact him from there. He began to enter the encryption key and when he was finished Zachary Miles appeared on his terminal.

"Brian, what the hell happened out there?"

"Is it that bad?"

"You have no idea."

"Let me guess, they're going to blame us?"

"I don't know for sure Brian, but, Intelligence is washing their hands of the entire thing."

"Typical."

"I'd say cover your behind Archer, but I don't know if there's a shield strong enough to stop this."

Brian nodded grimly "Thanks for the heads up Zach."

"Good luck my friend, Miles out."

The screen went blank and Archer did as he had done earlier in the mission "Computer, erase all record of the previous transmission authorization Archer november xray zero zero one."

"Authorization confirmed, record erased."

Brian sighed "So much for my renewed career."

With that he left the office headed back for the ship's bridge, the captain would want him up there when they docked.

In the turbolift cabin, he came face to face with Counselor Pasqual, also heading for the bridge. For a while, they rode in silence until the Orion Hybrid spoke without looking at the security chief.

"I had a very interesting meeting with our distinguished passengers. You might be interested to know that they volunteered no information as to the how and why this whole... Peace talks were initiated and implemented the way it has been."

He made a short pause, keeping his eyes on the door before them.

"Thus, I finally know and understand the whole mess we were thrown into."

He obviously knew Archer was looking at him with questions in his eyes. But Ray still looked away, far beyond the confines of the ship's hull. By chance or not, it was right in the direction where laid Starbase 39.

"There will be war... but it will not be fought out there. It will be fought in the light to cover the truth by dragging us, and especially the captain, in the shadows... where we will be silenced... unless we dig ourselves out and drag the truth back to into the open."

For the first time, he brought his green eyes to those of his colleague.

"So you have two choices; leave the sinking ship... or ready your water buckets."

His eyes went back to the door.

"Just saying... so that you will be ready... `Cause I know for sure that you are not a rat."

The turbolift door opened and Pasqual stepped onto the bridge to go without a glance behind nor to the viewing screen where the Starbase's mushroom-like shape was coming into view and straight to the communication station. He releived his subordinate there, sat as he put his earpiece on a opened a channel.

"Starbase 39, this is the USS Icarus. We're back... be ready."

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Epilogue

Captain’s Personal Log

Stardate 58496.3

With this final aspect of our attempted Federation-Romulan summit suddenly concluded, the Icarus is heading back on the remainder of our five day journey to Starbase 39. Considering all of the obstacles, confrontations, sabotage, misdirection, misplaced energy and ingenuity expended throughout what has indeed turned out to be an essentially futile mission, I am still inundated with a pervading sense of discouragement and depletion that I just can’t seem to shake. No one wants to go through an ordeal like this and come back virtually empty handed… including me. Yet that is primarily how it seems that things have concluded. Lives lost, damages endured, hostilities and mistrust increased… and for what? An attempt to form an alliance that apparently no one in power truly wanted? Only those without a say or without any real authority were willing to embrace such a possibility. It was the irony that many civilizations have faced throughout Earth’s history alone: It was often more profitable and seemingly more beneficial to maintain the status quo and serve the needs of the empowered few than to actually implement a worthwhile change to benefit the needs of the many; even at only a small cost to the entitled few and even during these times of overall prosperity. It was one of the negative factors of mankind that still seemed to linger on and apply even to different species existing sectors apart as well. The more things change…

If as a result of this turbulent and in effect impossible mission we were able to at least avert an all out war among these factions, than I presume that this would at least be considered a peaceful beginning to this proposition. The question is… how will Starfleet perceive this? My level of optimism in this regard is rather limited at the moment; especially considering conflicting agendas that seem to be at work within various aspects of the Federation.

 

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