Plot Log | "Light the Fire" | Starfleet Command

Posted on Thu Jul 25th, 2013 @ 4:40am by Captain Landon Neyes

776 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Secret Meetings
Location: SFHQ San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: Now

=/\= Commodore Iron's Office, Starfleet HQ =/\=

The bright light of the afternoon shone through his office window onto the Commodore's face. The thin skin of his cheeks felt, for the first time in months, a little relief as he took a moment... just one, for himself. It had nearly been too long since he'd taken even a second for himself, and it was evident in his sagging features. The sunken facade of his face was merely a shadow of his former strength and integrity. Now he felt as if the very sunlight he enjoyed should just as well burn him to the core. A fiery cleanse of light was more than he deserved, and probably fitting for his crimes.

A small voice came from in front of the desk he stood behind. "Sir?"

Shaken from his calm, Commodore Lexington Iron cleared his throat thoughtfully, and turned to greet the young woman standing opposite him. With a slow, powerful movement, he sat at his desk and left the sight of San Francisco Bay behind him. "What is it, Lieutenant. I'm not scheduled for another staff meeting for 20 minutes. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."

The young Bolian woman looked about the room awkwardly for a moment, seemingly unable to accept his dismissal. "It's about the Vindicator, Commodore. We've received telemetry which puts them right at the rendezvous coordinates."

A sinking, yet expected feeling of disgust rose up inside him. "The Romulan Fleet?"

"Right where we told them to be." She said, a flutter disrupted her voice. Clearly she was distraught. "Where you told them to be, sir."

The tense words cut through the room. Irons knew what she was implying. She was his assistant, of course. Probably the one person in the whole of Starfleet who could have been present for all his misdeeds. The young Lieutenant attending all his briefings, read his documents, sorted his communiques, etc. The list went of forever, and she was as invaluable to him as no doubt he was for her career. Between the two of them, there had never been much friendship or untoward sharing.

It didn't take a spy to know he had ordered the Romulans to destroy the Vindicator.

He sighed, his eyes unconsciously gazed at the historical pistol he kept on his display shelf across the room. "Yes. Sometimes it becomes necessary for us to become the demons we hate in order to win the war." The tone in his voice was hushed, almost eerily foreboding. He felt like the shell of a man.

Who have I become? He asked himself.

"All those people-", she whispered. "Is that why you had Intelligence send that operative onto their ship? The false reports..."

He quickly interrupted, a urgent rage filling in his voice, "ALL those people are martyrs for the Federation. We need people to become aware of the tragic reality we're facing. The Federation needs to see that tragedy at every corner. They need to get angry, and they need to fight back! We've been subdued by the Borg, the Dominion, the Cardassians and Romulans. Our people are being chipped away, and they're just letting it happen!"

Irons cheeks were flushed, and he could feel a wetness across his face. His breathing heavy and labored. Tears were streaming from his eyes as he stared at his Lieutenant. The young assistant who'd dutifully aided him as he sent more than 1,000 people to their deaths. Deaths simply to incite more war.

But it was too late. Too late to turn around or change the things he'd set in motion. The dominoes were falling now, and the gargantuan Vindicator was doomed to fall to a fleet of Romulan warships waiting for her. They were lying in wait, paid to destroy her for the sake of the war they'd already started with the Tholians.

"I can't..." He stopped.

A dull rumble shook the room, widening the lieutenant's eyes as they darted across the walls. "What was that?!"

In truth he didn't care. The arms of his chair took him in as he leaned back.

Then the alarms sounded.

[[This is a General Alert. Please evacuate the facility. All staff, repeat, evacuate the facility.]]

His lieutenant ran from the room, dropping the PaDDs she held in her hand on his office floor. Panic striking her in the moment. They were under attack. The enemies they'd attempted to wrangle for hundreds of years were finally at their doorstep.

"Finally." He smiled.

He was going to sit there, at let them come.

He wanted to burn.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Commodore Lexington Irons
Starfleet Command (apb Landon)

NPCs

 

RSS Feed