Plot Log | "The Noose Tightens"

Posted on 241409.03 @ 1:24pm by Fleet Admiral Kerry Malone

Mission: Insurrection [Fleet Plot]
Location: Earth, Sol System
Timeline: Following the events of "The End..."

= Sandringham Estate, Norfolk =

President Ian Hutchins had never had such a bad night as the night just gone. He must've had little more than four hours sleep, which was probably four more than any of his staff had seen that night. The tapestry of events had unravelled itself in a slow, methodical manner, so as to prevent rest.

In the end, Hutchins had dragged himself away to lay down, only to be woken a short time later, being informed that there was now a summary of events for his digest. Putting on a dressing-gown over his PJ's, he shuffled out into the private sitting area of the Presidential mansion.

This was a far more intimate room than the more official rooms in the mansion, with two large cream leather sofa's lying parallel to each other at right angles to the majestic hearth against the far wall. Between the two sofa's was a maple-wood coffee table. On this table a silver tray had been placed that carried a large pot of coffee and porcelain cups and saucers, with cream, sugar and small pastries.

The President was not alone in this room, as two suited figures stood at the end of the room, waiting to greet their leader.

"Well, don't stand on ceremony." Ian growled, as he poured himself coffee. "Talk."

"Morning Mister President." SECDEF Robins said, considerately. "We've been able to form a digest of events that happened over the last forty-eight hours, and we're able now to present a clear picture for you."

"Very well." Hutchins said, sitting down on one of the sofa's, stirring cream and sugar into his coffee with a small spoon. "Speak."

Robins cleared his throat nervously, and looked at his PADD. "We've been able to confirm that a covert organisation, known to Starfleet Intelligence as the Vanguard, has been recruiting heavily from disaffected Starfleet personnel. In the chaos of the take-over and Malone's broadcast, many ships were unaccounted for. Starfleet Command believes they ran deep and silent, as Malone suggested, rather than join him or us. A large majority of the Alpha and Beta Quadrant based vessels did remain accounted for, and fifty-five percent did join Malone."

"However, a very small percentage of ships and assets dropped off the grid, only to resurface as Vanguard assets. This group is only loyal to what the Federation should be for them. They don't entirely support Malone's idealism, but they really don't like us very much. One particular asset has been a major irritation to us - the Pendragon, with former Captain Vokar commanding."

"An irritation how?" Hutchins asked.

"It appears that wherever the Pendragon turns up, disaffection with the government follows. He's been warping around the core systems, and sowing seeds of dissent amongst the people. Every ship we've thrown at him to stop him, has met with an unfortunate fate." Robins explained. "So far, we have reports of riots on Vulcan, Andor, Tellar Prime and Alpha Centauri." Robins said, calmly. "We've increased security presence on these worlds, but we're being stretched very thin."

"Probably on purpose." Said the solitary figure in the room, dressed all in black. Up to this point, he'd neither spoken or made any indication he was even here.

Hutchins looked at him, and nodded. "Likely. Any action from the rebels?"

"Surprisingly enough, not much." Robins replied, looking sideways at his colleague briefly. "We know they sent a fleet, under Admiral Denterius, to retake Zetari."

"Pfft... Denterius." Hutchins smirked. "That blonde bimbo couldn't command a trip around San Francisco bay, let alone an assault fleet on a Starbase. Is Malone really that desperate?"

"Apparently." Robins chuckled.

The figure dressed in black, however, did not smile. "Sa'Tak blew up Zetari." He said, simply. "It's gone."

"What?!" Hutchins exploded, slamming his coffee cup onto the table. "Who told him he could do that?!"

"I did." The black figure replied, calmly. "We're losing this war, might as well not give Starfleet the satisfaction of a victory."

"You had no right to make that decision without me!" Hutchins yelled at the man.

"Because you've got such a great track record of good decisions, Ian." The man said, clearly unimpressed. "You're a politician, you've been making decisions that stroke your ego, your powerbase, and none of them have worked. The Federation is torn to pieces, we're weaker now than when we started, and its entirely your fault."

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Hutchins snarled.

"I dare, because you're a fuckup." The man said, not rising to the bait. "You decided to capture Sharpe's kid, because you had some score to settle with Sharpe. Well, that didn't go very well, did it? Somehow Sharpe got here, attacked Starfleet Command with a handful of people, got his daughter back, blew up Starfleet Communications, and killed many of our *better* troops. Add to that, he got all our prisoners, so we have nothing, and the rebels got all their staffers back."

"That is hardly my fault!" Ian replied, somewhat defensively.

"You let your personal vanity dictate strategy, and you baited the bear. You didn't get rid of Sharpe when you had the chance, and now we're paying for it. He was retired, he was a non-entity, and now you've put him back into play." The man said. "Did you bother to read his service record?"

"I skimmed it..." Hutchins replied meekly, his anger being deflated.

"Sharpe is reckoned at being one of the best field commanders of the current age. He's a tactician. He's also close friends with Colonel Towers, the other marine you decided to piss off. He's a small unit tactics specialist, an explosives expert and when he and Sharpe are together - they pull off the impossible. Yet you decided to alienate the pair of them, piss them both off, and put them together. Well done, Mister President. You made martyrs of two of the most popular marine commanders in the SFMC."

"Well... I..."

"I'm not done yet." The man said, firmly. "You then decided to piss off every single marine in existence by trying to assassinate the Commandant of the Marine Corps, one of the most popular Commandant's to date. You also failed to kill Tyris, who is a seriously good black-ops operator, and you failed to kill Ascari, who is now on the loose with a covert operations group from SFI - who are also working to take you down. Did I miss anything?"

"You done?" Ian scowled.

"Nearly." The man said, calmly. "Our organisation has decided that it no longer wants to support you. We believed what you had to offer, but you failed to live up to your promises. As such, we're disassociating ourselves from you."

"What?! You can't do that! I am the leader of Federation First!" Hutchins snapped.

"Not anymore." The man said. "Terra Prime want nothing more to do with you, and my organisation cannot tolerate failure. You are cut off, but you will be allowed to remain as President, since we believe that Malone won't rest until you're captured or killed - and we believe that that moment won't be too far off now."

Ian collapsed back onto the sofa, his world shattered.

"What little is left of our people, will disappear. Your actions have damaged the organisation, and we will neither forgive or forget what you and your people have done. Good day, Mister President." The man said, and walked out, leaving Hutchins and Robins behind.

= End =