Galaxy: Massacre's Aftermath

From TFC Galactopedia

Been a long time since I've posted anything, hopefully everyone enjoys, this is a continuation of the Galaxy.

Captain’s Log, Supplemental It has been thirty minutes since the Galaxy arrived in the Kevran system to see the devastation that has befallen it. Unfortunately our search of the orbital wreckage has not yet turned up any signs of life, and there is diminution of hope that any would be found. Nearly two million Kevrans took part in their orbital industry and manufacturing base, and it seems as if no one was able to escape the destruction of the stations and smelting facilities or space docks.

The Galaxy however will continue its orbital search, and one bright point has emerged. While the mystery attacker bombarded every city with a major world government infrastructure node, primarily the planetary and provincial capitals other cities where left surprisingly intact, manly those with some manufacturing ability. We have been able to raise communications with the Judicar, the Kevran equivalent of what a Terran such as myself would call a ‘Mayor’ of one of Kevra’s largest remaining population centers. It seems he is trying to organize some sort of disaster response for his people and has the support of several other Judicars of surrounding cities, an ad-hoc government of sorts is forming about Judicar Orloss and hopefully she will be able to provide some information on just what happened when I meet with her in her city.

“Sir, this is extremely unwise,” Commander T’lara announced in her firm but patient voice as Michael had come to expect his Vulcan XO when she was trying to persuade him as he shouldered his away-harness and checked his newly redesigned ‘folding’ tricorder, phaser, light strip, inferred emergency beacon (in case, heaven forbid his combage stopped working) water, e-rats, emergency medical hypospray and the tiny bandage kit included in the entire ensemble. While most Starfleet vessels did not use more than the belt portion of the harness Michael’s best friend, mentor and former superior officer Allen Rikes had drilled it into the young then Ensign McLoude when he had been assigned to the USS Alexey Leonov’s tactical teams you never knew what you where going to expect, and because of that, he had always wanted his people to be fully prepared. Afterwards when Michael had become first tactical officer then First Officer of the Gettysburg he had carried the same sentiments, much to Captain Antain’s amusement. Still when Gettysburg’s away teams had run into trouble, they had never been stranded without the supplies they needed. Besides, since Starfleet Office of Supply in all their infinite wisdom decided that uniforms no longer needed pockets, this was the only way to carry anything of worth on you other than your tricorder and phaser.

“Sir, again…” T’Lara spoke up bringing Michael back to the present. “I must state that this is completely unwise.”

“I scheduled the meeting T’Lara,” Michael returned gently shifting his harness a bit to get it to sit just right. “These people need help, and we need some answers.”

“Then I suggest I be the one to contact them Captain,” T’Lara persisted her pointed fennec ears twitched very slightly, it was the only indication Michael knew of that his Vulcan first officer was for want of a better term, annoyed. “If I recall, you where rather strident about protecting Captain Antain’s safety just as I am of yours. Is this a case of the Terran euphemism: ‘Do as I say, not as I do’? Is it not logical that I start quoting the same regulations you often used?”

Michael winced. “I deserved that one,” he admitted to his first officer, but before she could continue he held up his paw and continued. “However that does not mean I’m going to be swayed on this one. The Judicars are expecting me, and they’re a little worried as it is. We need to put them at ease and I also want a first paw look at what exactly happened down there before Tordrin recovers from his shock and starts thinking he should still be in charge. I’m also going to have more than ample protection” he waved his paw to both Bosun Kavee and the two other security ratings standing on the transporter pad.

“And you’ll be having me along with you,” a melodious scotch accent called out as Doctor Willow O’Donnel swept into the transporter room her bluish-black hair tied back with a satin bow that matched her uniform and the pale blue doctor’s coat fluttering as she rushed up. Though she did not wear a harness she carried the standard issue full medical pack over her shoulder and a medical tricorder strapped to her uniform’s belt though she did not even carry a hand phaser.

“Doctor I don’t think that’s wise,” Michael returned.

“Captain,” she gave him a stern look that he knew the blue merle rough collie only gave when she would not be dissuaded, using his rank instead of his first name like she usually did when it was just their families. “I’ll be needing to see for myself what sort of triage situation we’re dealing with. Besides, not to be detrimental to our security personnel but they’re not exactly fully trained for any sort of medical emergency that might arise, either to the away team or any of the Kevrans.”

“Would that not be best served by one of your staff Doctor O’Donnel, and not your self,” T’Lara returned.

“I’m the best qualified of my people for this sort of work Commander,” a bit of a frown came over her elegant muzzle. “I’d rather not go quoting you why, let’s just say I’ve had paws on experience,” she continued as she stepped up onto the transporter pad.

T’Lara simply cocked her eyebrow, her large ears shifting as she did so giving her an almost lopsided appearance. “You will, of course stay in constant communications contact at all times, and you will be beamed back to Galaxy at any moment that under my own judgment I feel your lives are unduly threatened.”

Michael gave her a short bow that he had learned was a Vulcan way of ascent “Nash-veh sep-wafikh,” he returned, basically translated: ‘I agree’ in Vulcan though it had more connotations of respect than that.

T’Lara simply nodded as her captain moved to the transporter pad and then looked at the petty officer at the controls. “Petty officer?” she intoned and the young Andorian eagle at the controls nodded and his feathers began to fly across the control. Michael felt the normal tingling sensation of the beginning of transport, then his stomach jumping into his throat as he was shot from Galaxy to a small plaza on the surface. Michael noticed first the Bosun and his security furs immediately spread out. His next observation was that it was rather eerily quiet, not even the chirp of a bird or the Kevran equivalent. That he could tell made the security team a bit jumpy, though the massive form of the Bosun seemed to also be a counter-effect.

Willow was the first to react beyond nervousness pulling out her tricorder and immediately beginning to scan the area. “No weapons fire like we detected from orbit here, looks like they where spared.”

“This city is a manufacturing center, not governmental center,” Michael returned looking about, taking out his own tricorder and flipping it open doing a scan just for his own nerves. “From the looks of things, whoever attacked wanted to keep the industrial infrastructure intact.”

“Then why destroy the orbital industries?” Willow returned with a frown. “That seemed like overkill and waste of lives and resources if your asking me,” as a doctor there was nothing worse than wasting lives in her opinion the resources came a much distant second.

“They maybe didn’t need want the orbital facilities,” the Bosun spoke up and Willow blinked at him, Michael simply nodded for him to continue. “If that is so, simply destroying the entire system makes ‘tactical’ sense.”

“The deaths of over one million beings is not something I’d call ‘making sense’ Master Chief Petty Officer,” the doctor said coolly her tulip shaped ears flattened back into her hair, Willow’s use of his full rank instead of simply calling him ‘Bosun’ was measure of her current displeasure with him. When it came to the sanctity of life, the collie had a bit of a temper.

“I would agree with you Doctor that morally it makes no sense, in fact I find that they did it quite reprehensible, you know that,” the Bosun’s deep but surprisingly gentle voice intoned in his best ‘soothing an irate officer’ tone. “However if you take the moral equation, or I should say what our species share as the moral equation out of it, their decimation of the orbital facilities have given us no clues to exactly who did it other than they where using phaser and photon-class weapons.”

“Bosun does have a point Doctor,” Michael returned softly. “Remember our moral perspective is not the only one in play in the galaxy, no matter how many species share it. I’m not saying its right but we do have to realize that and take it into account in our dealings with other species. For now though, lets curtail any talk about the deceased in orbit while we wait for our hosts to come claim us. I’d rather not our first meeting with them be Kevrans overhearing us talking about their dead like a moral dilemma problem at the Academy.” Everyone nodded, even Willow’s temper abated as her ears came back to their normal posture.

They did not however have to wait long for their hosts as three beings walked out from one of the more grandiose looking buildings. They looked like horses accept for the bony ridge that ran from the end of their nose all the way up their forehead, between their two ears and partially into their mains. Also one and all where a very pale white in fur color, paler than any Terran-born equine he knew of, the only identifier he saw among them where dark patterns of fur centering on that ridge. All three where armed with pistols, disruption-based weapons very much like what Klingons and Romulans used he remembered from the briefing. Their tunics where a slate gray and had armor padding throughout the chest and legs. “Captain McLoude?” the Kevran in the lead asked questioningly the Universal Translator making an instantaneous translation in his own voice. They both looked a bit wearily at the three Starfleet personnel with rifles but apparently decided that it was no more than status quo in their eyes since all the rifles pistols and hand held phasers where either not pointed at anyone or holstered completely.

“El’dra mes’ana,” Michael announced as he tapped his combadge’s circular background to turn the UT auto-translator off for a brief moment. Roughly translated from the Kevran tongue he had just pronounced ‘that is me.’ The phrase though was part of the Kevran’s greeting ritual. The display though he was a little afraid he had been a bit wrong with the pronunciation had both the Kevrans and Dr. O’Donnel blinking a bit in surprise, though Bosun Kavee simply stood rock still, that little display was not out of the ordinary to him. “I apologize if I pronounced the words poorly,” he continued after turning his UT back on, “I have yet to have time to learn anything more than a few phrases.”

The head security personnel as Michael guessed it shook his head. “I would not have expected you to learn even that with the wide spread use of translators,” he shook off his thoughts and motioned with a paw that each of the three fingers and opposable thumb ended in a very hard hoof looking extension; “please, come this way, the Judicar is anxious to see you.”

Michael nodded and the escort spun about almost marching hurriedly back up the plaza to the building they exited from. Michael and the rest of Galaxy’s personnel fell in quickly, the security team forming an inverted triangle and staying as alert as they walked. Dr. O’Donnel just shook her head. “I always am forgetting that curious little hobby of yours Captain.”

Michael smiled and held in a chuckle. “Most do, considering how few think its even necessary since we have the UT. Still, its always nice to be able to start relations off on the right foot by respecting their customs, and giving their traditional greeting in their own language usually is a very good way to do that. That’s usually the first thing I try to learn when I’m meeting a culture I’ve never been around before.”

“As I heard someone once say, ‘it always pays to be polite,’” the Bosun said in a soft whisper that still carried the amusement in his voice.

“Aye I can see that, those Security types relaxed a lot when you greeted them Captain,” the Doctor returned softly for only his ears as the pair and the three security furs walked the corridors.

“Are you turning into a counselor Willow?” Michael asked softly in amusement.

“You know better’n that,” she returned. “Doctors by very nature are having to be good at reading other’s emotions. Those two where so keyed up, I was afraid I might have had to do some triage right on the spot,” Michael gave her a look. “No, they wouldn’t have shot us, not on purpose, but I was rather afraid one or both would blow their own legs of with those damnable disruptors.”

Michael tried very hard to hide the wince he wanted to give at the mental image that scenario engendered. They had reached what he guessed was an office behind some rather beautifully carved wooden doors. Michael wanted to take a moment just to admire the workmanship but as their escort moved forward he was reminded soberly just why they where here. The two Kevrans walked forward, with two more guarding the oor and pushed the heavy wood open.

Behind those doors was a rather beautifully appointed office. A large window at the back displayed the vista over the central plaza they had come through and a large amount of the rest of the city. There where a few paintings and some artifacts, nothing placed to be ostentatious, more it seemed the accouterments where for the owner’s delight not to try to impress those that entered. Michael turned his observation of the room to its main occupant, sitting behind a wood desk standing up over a terminal. Michael would have accounted Fenia Orloss rather matronly beautiful had it not been for the concern, worry and out right frustration etching her long equine face and muzzle as she confronted whoever was on the other end of the terminal.

“…I don’t care Girella, I don’t like the curfew either but until we can get the situation assessed and under control it has to stand!” she announced, sounding as if she had had this conversation several times before.

“You are not listening to me Judicar, the curfew will only make things worse!” the voice returned. “If you continue to panic such as this I will have to call a referendum…”

“With who Girella? With who?” The Judicar put emphasis on the last part of that statement. “Tell me, who are we going to hold the referendum in front of, do you see that crater five hundred deka northwest of us? Remember what use to be there? That crater contains all those who could have held the referendum on the remaining Judicar’s decisions! Right now I’m more concerned with keeping our people alive than soothing your wounded ego that I didn’t deem to consult the City Council on a decision by law we could make without your approval!”

“The law should be changed…”

“Girella, just be quiet,” the Judicar finally snapped back. “When we can get the government working again, when we can tend for our people, when we bury the dead well talk about this, we’ll even pass all the laws you can but right now the other remaining Judicars and I have a lot more on our minds than petty political squabbling! Now if you will excuse me the captain of the Starfleet vessel that was to arrive before this whole mess started has said he will meet with me in a few minutes, good day,” she punched some command or another with one of her hoof-tipped fingers sounding like she might have cracked the casing as shutting down the terminal cut off whatever protest the Kevran on the other end of the line had been planning to issue.

The judicar finally looked up and paled even more than she already was, the dark fur at her ridge standing out. “Oh!" she shot the leader of the two security personnel a rather meaningful look. “You could have told me Hedar.”

“Sorry Madam Judicar,” the security member returned rather sheepishly. “I thought that it would be a bad idea to interrupt your meeting with City Speaker Girella…”

“Hedar that is one meeting I would have been supremely happy to have interrupted, it had nothing to do with trying to put our planet back together, it was only petty bickering,” she sighed, “both of us unfortunately.” She looked up to the Starfleet personnel standing in her officer. “I apologize, I have not had time to familiarize myself with your uniforms. I would guess that those three specimens of relaxed alertness are a security detail,” she waved her paw to the Bosun and his two fellow gold-uniformed enlisted-beings. “May I ask which one of you,” she pointed to both Willow and Michael, “is Captain McLoude?”

Michael put on his best calming smile stepping forward, repeating the greeting he had earlier without his UT and the Judicar cocked her head. Michael then waved to Willow, he looked at the Judicar gently. “Is there any problem that I should be aware off?”

“Nothing throwing City Speaker Girella and your Councilfur Tordin into a locked room together so they can talk till the sun burns out wouldn’t cure,” that expression got a blink from Michael and the Judicar gave a small mischievous smile. “We where… apprehensive about our meetings with your Councilfur Captain, from his preliminary communiqués he was a bit… oblivious to the rapport that your other people had built up the last year or so with us.”

In other words, Michael thought ruefully, Tordin was his normal pompous oblivious self and was in the process of getting the Kevran’s backs up. Aloud he tried to be more ‘diplomatic’ about his opinions of the Councilfur, he was after all a Starfleet captain, he couldn’t just go sprouting off his own opinions of an idiot public official to a world outside the Federation. “May I ask the situation Judicar?”

“Hectic at best captain,” the Kevren returned with a heavy sigh. “she looked,” have you been able to find anyone in our orbital facilities Captain? We’ve lost all contact with them.”

Michael tried to make his voice as gentle as he possibly could. “Judicar, whoever attacked your planet destroyed your orbital infrastructure,” he saw her rock back at that. “We’ve yet to find survivors but I still have my ship looking.”

“Another million seven hundred thousand dead,” the Judicar nearly collapsed in her chair. “That brinks the count to around a billion dead or injured…”

“Judicar, I might be able to help with the injured part,” Willow spoke up with her gentlest bedside voice. “I have a substantial staff aboard Galaxy. If you can give me some information, I can start beaming people and supplies down to help with your triage work.”

“Thank you Doctor,” the Judicar returned an ease coming about her. “The supplies most especially, I know you might not be able to give much…”

“We have emergency triage procedures,” Willow returned with a gentle smile. “Chemical structures are one thing our replicators can do very well, it’s the manufactured goods we have problems with we can easily replicate most of our supplies and what we give you. We won’t be stretching our supplies too thin.”

“Thank you again.”

“Judicar do you know what happened? Who it was that attacked you?” Michael asked.

“No, we don’t,” she returned sighing. “The first we knew was when photon torpedoes started slamming into our communications grids and cities, we didn’t even have any warning for our defense net.” “Then, the capital disappeared, I didn’t realize that orbital weapons could wipe out a city so…”

“Do you have any recordings of the attack?” Michael asked gently, he knew this would be a sensitive subject.

“Yes,” she returned. “but all it is is beam weapons and torpedoes lancing from the sky, we never saw the ships.”

Michael nodded softly. “”I understand, I’d like to have my Chief tactical officer look over it though, just the weapons fire itself can provide clues.”

“I will have the Militia commander transmit it to your ship,” the Judicator returned.

Michael nodded then stepped forward. “I know its not much of a gesture, but Galaxy will stay in orbit for as long as you need us Judicar.”

“That is more than I hoped, in fact, your medical officer’s gifts will probably save most the injured we have evacuated…”

“There is a saying among my people, Terrans that is Judicar, ‘A little kindness goes a long way,’ I intend to give you as much as caninely possible for me to give…”