[ooc]In general, just post your responses below. PM me if you want to report anyone for suspicious activity, but you'll need to specify who you are reporting them to. [/ooc]
Monticellan Atmosphere, April 29th, 2142: (Semetary, Magnus, Zebulon)
The high crags of Montecello recede in the window, mountains taller than everest are now easily obscured by the human hand. From up here, everything looks inconsequential.
The rocket shuttle screams through the rapidly thinning atmosphere, bucking violently from side to side. This is not the first time you've ridden a fast burning shuttle into space, but every time, you need to suppress that deeply terrestrial part of yourself that believes the rocket is simply going to fall from the sky at the next jolt. Your shuttlemates rock along with you, the sound of the thrusters drowning any natural conversation. The passengers have resorted to decidedly unnatural means: everyone wears a pair of headphones, with a microphone below their lips, dialog is possible, if only just, as raw newtonian forces do battle around you.
The conversation is inevitably quite interesting, the shuttle's passengers are some of the brightest minds on this or any world. The passengers on this craft are a team of scientists and civilian professionals assembled to brief high ranking members of the Concordance of Worlds on an alien menace from the constellation Ophiuchi. A war is raging in the depths of space for supremacy of a completely unremarkable system on the edge of Ophiuchian territory. At the Concordant's direct command, human starships ambushed the Ophiuchian defenders of this system in early April, the fourth fleet has been holding the system ever since, despite increasing damage to their starships and dwindling supplies. The Concordant expects a counterattack, and has called upon you to explain the arcane particulars of enemy ships and their crew.
This information is strictly classified, of course, but the conversation tactically manuvers around your areas of expertise without directly entering forbidden territory: the peculiar psychology of the Ophiuchians, the identity of their mysterious, purportedly immortal leaders, how the Ophiuchian mind differs from the human mind. Professor Tao, an expert on the design of Ophiuchian starships, points out that in her numerous interrogations of these verimform beings, she's never once discovered an incident in their history when they made war on each other...not once, in the 10,000 years since their "enlightened lords" came to power. from there the conversation meanders to the nature of hive minds and conformity, to questions of social contracts and civil disobedience, and finally to enlightened critique of the particular government in power.
The Concordance of Worlds could not in any sense be called repressive. the Concordant, Leopoldo Franca, maintains absolute power over terran space, but scrupulously keeps himself out of the affairs of terran worlds, which are free to grow and prosper, or starve and die, as they see fit. For many, this situation is not ideal. Since the concordant was put in power nearly 2 decades ago, Monticello and the Oceanic world of Tiamat have thrived due to an abundance of natural resources. Smaller worlds like Vadim, Mediterranea, and Freeside have foundered due to a forced break with what were once supportive Earth-based governments. There are rumors of slave-like labor conditions at the bottom of the the stratified castes on Tiamat, and quietly concealed genocides on Tolkien. War is impossible, but evil persists for precisely this reason.
one among you, you can't remember who, begins to focus specifically on the faults of the Concordant himself. Here is a man who has deliberately done evil. A man who has carefully structured a cult of personality on the most militarily powerful worlds, posing as an enlightened, happy warrior to the nations of earth while turning a blind eye to evils that persist on the outer colonies. Franca makes only occasional public appearances, and sticks to the shadows, attempting to cultivate the illusion that his invisible leadership does not exist at all. He is known to be brilliant, slow to act, admiring reason above all else, and scornful of men of lesser intelligence.
As the conversation turns more strident, one of the two Marshals of the colonial guard leaves the cabin to conduct some sort of business with the pilot. His companion joins the conversation. After a moment, he asks.
"I guess I'm curious...you seem to think disobedience, even violence, might have been necessary, at several points in our history."
"at several points in our history, yes." Dr. Tao replies
"is it necessary now?"
his gun hangs idly at his side, the smile on his face seems to suggest that this is a strictly hypothetical question, barracks-room banter on high philosophy. Dr. Tao seems to take it that way.
"Some might say so, yes."
"Let me put it this way." the guard says, his attitude abruptly changing "If you and Franca were alone in the dark, would you shoot him?"
The color drains from Dr. Tao's face. The silence over the comms is deafening. It's unclear who can hear, and who can't. The plasma sheath covering the shuttle as it plunges spaceward would keep conversation confined to only the men and women aboard....but are the cockpit crew on the same audio loop? What about the marshal that just left the room?
"you heard me Dr. Tao." The marshal asks, "would you shoot him?"
How do you respond?
Staff Office of the Coronado, April 29th, 2142, at roughly the same time (Malikane, Jameskiller)
(you are both being reassigned to staff jobs in the second fleet. This is your inception interview, it's the same for both of you, you'll see why)
Someone's pulled a lot of strings to get you where you are.
You stand at the entryway to the office of Lt. Commander Mark Hutchinson. While not officially second in command aboard the Coronado, he's famously regarded as the Right hand of Admiral Griffiths as well as a close friend of several politicians close to the Concordant himself, negotiating the two must be an incredible challenge...you seem to be in a position to take on part of that challenge.
Your reassignment was mysterious, no sound explanation was proffered. Since Franca's unfair and unexpected shuffling of officers in November of Last year, promotions, dismissals, and unexplained disappearances have been swift and unanticipated in all areas of the starfleet. You have no idea why you are currently being tapped for a staff position in the starfleet most likely to engage in glorious battle with an existential threat to mankind, but you have decided to go along at least this far. You have powerful friends and family, presumably, one of them recognized greatness in you.
Lt. Commander Hutchinson does not rise to greet you, but asks you to take a seat. His desk is an impressive extravagance, you've seen a lot of those today. Officers in the command staff are famously well off in this regard, perhaps you will be afforded these impressive extravagances in your new life...assuming you make the right first impression.
The interview proceeds as expected. He discusses your qualifications, which are sufficient but only just so. He remarks on your grades at the academy, which were good but hardly exceptional. He congratulates you for a few commendations you are genuinely quite proud of, and then he begins discussing the chain of command aboard the carrier. Mind numbingly dull stuff, especially when he launches into a digression about his problems with the engineering staff. At the nadir of the conversation, as you are lost in your own reflection in the polished wood of his desk, he suddenly stands.
His eyes flick quickly to a glowing panel in his desk. He pushes a digital key. Something chirps and powers down.
"And now we cut to the quick." he says. "Lieutenant Commander, I am part of a conspiracy of junior and midlevel officer engaged in an act of treason and dereliction against the Concordant Council itself." the tone of his voice is flat, disinterested, like he's still droning on about the engineering crews, but what he says could only be prompted by insanity or mad desperation.
"Recently a defensive contingency code-named 'Barsoom' has been activated, the particulars of which I will not discuss. Writ large, this is a strategy enacted by the Concordant himself to force a military crisis, in order to consolidate his power following the November purge. Franca's assault on Kuiper 75, sending the fourth fleet to attack the Ophiuchi, was only the most visible part of this protocol. The fourth fleet is suffering a death by a thousand cuts from the Ophiuchian armada, and Franca will not withdraw them. Why? Because he wants an invasion and counterattack. He wants unity...in fact he wants total power. We aim to deny him that, by any means necessary. We need your help..."
Possibilities hurtle through your head: is this a genuine cry for help? A novel technique by a paranoid spyhunter to ferret out dissenters? some kind of loyalty test? perhaps a sick joke? If you side with him, the penalty for being caught would certainly be death. If you reject him, you are alone without allies on what is, in all likelyhood, a ship of traitors. Who would you report to? Would you be dismissed or disappeared?
You suddenly realized that someone did pull quite a few strings to get you here, but the strings they pulled may have been your own.
How do you respond?
Deep orbit of Monticello, April 29th, about the same time (JaceHahn)
The colonial guard maintains an aura of incorruptibility, but you know there are weaknesses. Unlike the four starfleets of the Concordance Armada, the colonial guard only ever recieves one mission: maintain order as defined by the Articles of Concordance in a radius of 10 light minutes of whatever planet they are stationed at. There are no interfactional struggles here, no command staff politics driven by men with dreams of conquest or power. There is nothing but an allegiance, almost a blind worship, of the rule of law. At least, that's the image they cultivate. You know there's something festering under the surface.
Individually, every Guard post is weaker than a starfleet, just a handful of laser frigates and light carriers, but the guard is powerful because of its ubiquity. Every populated world has defenders in high orbit, shielded by orbital trajectories from long ranged missile bombardment, and able to rain protonic fire down on the inhabitants of each world at a moment's notice. the guard also enjoys power due to its proximity to Franca. Historically, the Duke of the Guard is the right hand of the Concordant. The colonial guard command bunker abuts strategic command, the beating heart of Concordance military intelligence and coordination. The inhabitants of monticello, which you protect, believe Duke Stephen Lowe and Concordant Franca are of one mind...you are not so sure.
Recently, rumors have begun to circulate that the Concordant will soon name a successor. That successor, contrary to long-held expectations, will not be Lowe, but another duke in charge of the command fleet itself, Duke Taylor Thompson, who is much more political, and much more pragmatic, than Lowe, who is widely regarded as an unthinking zealot....he may begin to start thinking. He may begin to see that the cause he's dedicated himself to has abandoned him. He may begin to see that the only way to keep the power he has is to fight for it.
As the commander of a laser frigate charged with protecting one of the most powerful worlds in the Concordance, You suspect quite strongly that you will have to make a decision soon about where your loyalties lie. Are you a true patriot, loyal to Franca or the articles of Concordance that give him power? are you a careerist, likely to make or break any alliance if it means advancing your own personal prestige. Are you bitter about the excesses of Franca's power, anxious for some of your own, or suspicious of your duke's motivations.
try as you might, you can't keep your loyalties hidden from the major players in this conspiracy. Where do your loyalties lie?
