Business Interrupted

Posted on Sat Dec 22nd, 2012 @ 12:09pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD

Mission: Funzone
Location: Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: One Week Prior to Mission Start

[One week ago, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth]

Admiral Nathan Cowell had spent the majority of the day in meetings revolving around the status of Romulan space post-Hobus. Reports of piracy along the Neutral Zone, refugees from several colony worlds flooding the Federation border worlds, and the increase in military presence were all hot topics that had demanded his attention. Admiral Richard Boyle, his Deputy Chief of Staff, had been vocal in his suspicions that the Romulan refugees were little more than spies and covert operatives. His position was one of isolationism and avoidance. The Federation President, however, took the extreme opposite position as did most of the Federation Senate. Stuck squarely in the center was Nathan.

His generations of experience spanning more wars than most people who had ever lived gave the old man a unique perspective. Nathan had advocated a careful examination of all incoming transports, an investment in security along the Neutral Zone, and an allocation of as yet undeveloped planets in Federation territory to house refugees. The Senate didn't like the idea simply because they would have to provide funding for the development of otherwise empty worlds. The rest of the Admiralty detested the plan simply because it wasn't heavy handed enough. By the end of the days meetings, Admiral Cowell had slapped four Admirals and three Senators upside their heads and had humiliated each and every one of them publicly afterward with stories about them no one should have heard.

Within the confines of his office, Admiral Boyle had decided to address the business of the day with Nathan. The two men had often had their disagreements as far as policy was concerned. Nathan was by far the most moderate Chief of Staff Starfleet had seen in generations. Boyle was akin to many of the Klingon War era Admirals Nathan had run across. To Richard, the enemy would never be an ally and should never be given the chance. Time had proved each and every one of those men wrong when the Klingons became one of the Federation's closest allies in the years that followed. Admiral Cowell knew the value of a history lesson and acted accordingly.

"I can't understand why you're so adamant about allowing refugees in our space, Nathan," Richard began their conversation.

"Because most of those people haven't done anything wrong, boy. You're basically condemning them for a tragedy of birth. I can remember not so very long ago when Nazi Germany did that very thing to a group of people called the Jews. I spent all of World War II fighting men who didn't especially agree with old Adolf but they fought for their country anyway because they knew enough of loyalty to at least try to defend themselves. Most of those Romulans you want to condemn to death out there aren't politicians or military men. Hell, most of them weren't even born on Romulus! But you lump them all in the same boat as the bastards that are corrupt and malicious and wish them all a quick death because it's the easy thing to do," Nathan countered.

"How is that easy, Nathan?" Adm. Boyle asked with a frown.

"You never have to look at them. You don't have to see the suffering when you're watching a boat on long range sensors drift in space without power. You don't have to see scared children crying for mothers who died hungry so their children could live just a few more days. You didn't have to bury a single body, fire a single shot, or even get your hands dirty. Nothing easier in the world than ignoring something..." the old man said from his desk, "The harder thing to do is allow them to come in, see their faces, hear their stories, and perhaps be forced to lend a hand. Hell, when's the last time you were even in the trenches? When's the last time you had to look in someone's eyes and order them to do something you knew would likely leave them dead or dying?"

"Nine years..." Richard sighed, turning his back on Nathan to stare outside his office window, "Nine years ago I was a starship commander and I dealt with refugees... But that was different, they were Federation citizens. There was no hard choice there. They needed help and I gave it. Five men under my command died evacuating the surface as it was being bombarded with a hellfire of asteroids..."

"There's no difference between that day and today. People are in need. To hell with what side of an imaginary line they used to be on. For all we know, each and every one of the people we let in will end up citizens by their own free will and they'll serve the Federation more loyally than people born here. I knew hundreds of people who were once my enemy that was more loyal to me than their former masters because I gave them a chance to just be people. No labels, no stigmas, just the sweat off their brow as a measure of their worth. Measuring a man by any other standard cheats them out of the ability to be something other than a statistic," Nathan argued.

Richard turned to regard Nathan for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh, "I hate that you've lived long enough to see things the way you do. To me, those old wars are a history lesson lost in a book."

"That's why they hired me, kid. I've seen history unfold and repeat more times than a Vulcan and I'm still alive to point it out. What I hate is the fact that you young people don't want to listen to me. Got your own ideas about the world... It has to be your way or no way... Trust me when I say, shutting people out will not end well. Letting people starve and drift will not end well. The only way this all comes out in the wash is if we act with cautious compassion. Sure, we're going to have our spies and our problem children. I'd rather deal with them in time than be demonized for labeling them all as evil and doing nothing to help them," the old man said as he leaned back in his chair.

"The Senate has left it in your hands, Nathan. The President seems to take your word over all others in the Admiralty, and said as much this afternoon. If you say let them in... we'll deal with the rabble as they spring up," Admiral Boyle said with a shrug.

"That's my position, Richard. Let the refugees come across the Neutral Zone and start setting up shelter colonies on the fringe worlds that have been allocated for them. Limit populations to one hundred million per planet... I don't want to overcrowd them and create slum planets," Admiral Cowell ordered.

"Aye sir..." Adm. Boyle said unenthusiastically.

"You got a problem with it?" the old man frowned.

"You know my objections, Nathan. But I also know that in the long run you'll probably prove to be right. Again..." the younger man bemoaned.

"Don't let it get you down, son. I've only been doing this five centuries and some change. Once you get to be my age you'll be more right than wrong too," Nathan smirked.

"I'm human..."

"How sad for you..." Nathan shrugged, "Guess you'll have to make due with gathering wisdom in one century rather than five."

"Anything else, Nathan?" Richard asked.

"No, you can go make things happen from here I think," the El-Aurian waved the man off. Adm. Boyle nodded and left Cowell's office in no great state of contentment. It was obvious to anyone that he wasn't happy with the old man's choice and orders but he was a military man before all else and he would follow through with his duties regardless.

Nathan propped his feet up on his desk, settling in for what would have been a nice nap until the door to his office slid open to reveal his aide, Captain Isabelle Rogers, with a PADD in hand. Nathan motioned the woman inside without taking his feet down, and watched her rush the desk with a concerned look on her face.

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but I have a communiqu from Starbase 11 that I think you'll want to see," the woman said as she offered up the PADD.

Nathan snatched the device from her grip and glazed over it until he saw the word Arizona. His hurried gaze froze, and the old man went all the way back to the beginning to read the entire message. According to the report, the Arizona had suffered a critical accident, and initial reports pointed to Command negligence. What disturbed Nathan more than anything was the list of missing and killed in action. Names of men and women who had survived the destruction of the first USS Arizona were among the dead and missing. Even the ship's First Officer, a woman Nathan had cared for as he would any daughter, was among the missing roster.

The old man's heart sank at first; he lamented the loss of each and every one of the departed souls that he'd served with. The anger came swiftly behind, and overpowered the El-Aurian. Nathan pushed himself away from the desk with his feet and bolted upright. Capt. Rogers jumped back meekly at the sudden burst of motion from the old man, and further recoiled at the fire radiating behind his eyes.

"What ships do we have at Spacedock right now?" Nathan demanded.

"Four ship, three of them undergoing refit, one ready to depart," Isabelle reported after retrieving the PADD Nathan had left on the desk.

"Contact that boat and tell them I need a ride out to Starbase 11," Admiral Cowell ordered as he began storming for the door of his office.

"What should I do about your meetings for the next week?" Capt. Rogers asked after him.

"Until you hear from me again, cancel everything with everyone and tell them I'm on a mission they don't have the need to know about!" Nathan shouted behind him before disappearing down an adjacent corridor.

"Aye... sir..." Rogers said to herself, stunned that the Admiral had just disappeared on her.

[To be continued...]