Starfleet Needs Better Hold Music

Posted on 30 Jul 2021 @ 4:41pm by Commander Zekru Krelossi
Edited on 30 Jul 2021 @ 4:45pm

"Computer, open a channel to Starbase 257, Priority One. Encrypted and scrambled."

Zekru sits at his desk, his eyes focused on the stars beyond the viewport as they trail past in their usual rainbow glory. He absently drums a thumb on the glass surface next to his computer terminal as he waits for his communication to be put through. He's silent for a few moments as he thinks, finally starting to speak as he tries to order his thoughts.

"History has shown that the path to hell is paved with good intentions. In the earliest days of the Federation, it was ... commonplace to want to help everyone achieve the ability to travel the stars. The starship Horizon left the people of Sigma Iotia II - a proto-industrial culture, at the time - textbooks on how to build radios. Farming techniques. Harnessing nature to power their cities and homes. They also left several texts on Terran history - and the books that the Iotians took to the most, as an... almost quasi-religious text was about Terran gangsters of the 1920s. They industrialized, and they built weapons to war against each other in endless cycles of violence."

The Saurian's eyes close in distress. "On Ekos, a culture in anarchy, a Federation researcher thought that recreating the Terran Third Reich of the 1930s would bring about order. It did - their culture aligned itself to the principles of National Socialism - but also enabled a xenophobic species to war on their neighbors on the planet Zeon. 'Death to Zeon!' they cried as their rockets took to the skies, and only the last-minute intervention of Starfleet stopped the chaos - chaos that would have never happened had we not interfered. Even then, Starfleet limited its response to recovering the researcher who was being used as a figurehead by an actual Ekosian, rather than stopping the attack. That was a decision made by the Ekosians."

Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap. His thumb continues to strike glass again and again. "Pirakta and Ruhansa are less developed than we are. This is a fact. That they have chosen to war upon each other is unsurprising, considering that the Piraktans are fascists and the Ruhansa are those who have been exiled to a remote planet to die. This is a fact. That a Federation citizen has possibly supplied the Ruhansa with the ability to end the Piraktans is regrettable, and a criminal act once an actual crime has been committed, but merely possessing our technology is not a crime in and of itself. On what grounds do we intervene? That bio-memetic gel is a restricted substance in Federation space? That yet another insane Vulcan - of which apparently there are many - has provided the Ruhansa with the ability to destroy those who have oppressed them? We are not in Federation space, our laws have no effect here."

It must take a mighty effort, but the generally genial expression that Zekru wears fades into a scowl, and a ripple of anger passes through the length of his body.

"So in the end, we are to support the fascist regime. Protect them from the people who have not been allowed to redress their grievances with their government because they are the unclean. We are to make war - covert war, but war nonetheless - on the Ruhansa, in the name of stopping a genocide that we do not know will actually happen. We will attempt to deactivate their weapons, but we will not seize their means of production or schematics to ensure that such a thing - which still has not happened - could not possibly happen again. A pointless gesture, and one that may cost the lives of the crew that I am responsible for."

With a hiss, he sweeps the contents of his desk into the floor as his eyes blaze in fury. "Why do we even have regulations when we ignore them as inconvenient? Why have we not contacted the Ruhansan fleet to pursue a diplomatic resolution? Why have we not contacted the Ruhansan leadership to tell them that if they do what we think they may do, that it will doom any chance of ever having diplomatic relations with the Federation? No trade with us, not through an intermediary, not directly. No Federation medical supplies. No Federation scientific expertise to cure their sterility. A Federation blockade to stop any trade from leaving the Runhansan system. Give us T'Mok, give up the weapons, and open a dialogue with Piraktans. Since we are set on violence, why do we not simply invoke General Order 24 and threaten to turn their world to ash?" He rises slightly in his chair to view what he has shoved away, then slumps back in the seat. "Why must we choose sides in a war that is not of our creation and, if we had not intervened to protect the refugee ship, that we would know nothing of?

The computer chirps as the communication link is established, and Zekru shakes his head mournfully again. "Why am I being forced to do this?"

"Starbase 257 to Boston, we read you. Go ahead."

Zekru gives his uniform a tug to straighten it. "Starbase 257, this is Lieutenant Commander Krelossi, the acting First Officer aboard Boston. I need to speak with the admiral or the sector Judge Advocate immediately, please."