<USS Meridian> Re: 2+2=5 (Part Two)

  • From: "Charles Singleterry" <Razerwolves@xxxxxxx>
  • To: <ussmeridian@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Mon, 6 Sep 2004 20:02:34 -0500

Great Log Jason. Like the story line.
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Jason Ziredac 
  To: ussmeridian@xxxxxxxxxxxxx 
  Sent: Monday, September 06, 2004 7:25 PM
  Subject: <USS Meridian> 2+2=5 (Part Two)


  2+2=5 (Part Two)

  by Lieutenant Jason Ziredac



  Everything felt like rain. A gray circling mist delimited the column of 
silver water outside as it fell outwardly on only the palace itself. The flora 
in the neighboring wilderness shivered as the millions of raindrops landed 
gently on each leaf, then rolled down and onto the deepening brown terrain. 
Kayloronians scurried this way and that, trying to avoid dampness at all costs. 
Jason saw his own superimposition on the scene displayed before him through the 
windowpane of his guest room, now in his basic uniform, comfortable, at ease. 
His arms were crossed in front of him and he thought about arithmetic, and 
yawned in the inauguration of the morning.

   

  Twisting himself around in slow motion he sat at a desk, smooth and made out 
of wood, clean and clear save for a stack of paper. Real paper. Presently, 
Jason jettisoned his current intention and sat pondering, thinking about paper. 
Once (if) Kayloronia was introduced to the community that was Starfleet, they 
would probably abandon the amenity and begin to use a PADD system. Interesting, 
at best, Ziredac thought. He now held in his hand a soon to be relic. 

   

  What was printed on the paper were reports filed by the Kayloronian Ministry 
concerning the insurgence of the Order of the Empty Crown. Marina gave them to 
Jason, which gave him hope for her. "If she was guilty," he voicelessly 
thought, "then she wouldn't give me more evidence, now would she?" 

   

  Doran was on his way, on appointment with Jason, to give him some more 
reports that he said Marina had overlooked in her search for documentary. Five 
more minutes and he would be there with more paper. But now, Jason was reading 
over the reports for a third time, the night before filled with words and 
puzzle assembly and algebra. 

   

  Report Numero Uno, Jason called it. Dated fifteen years ago, when Fraulein 
was fresh to the throne of High Minister. A teenager. It read, "Upon the 
crowning of the High Minister Frawlan, a group of protestors believed to be the 
same that crowded around the inaugural throne protectively, set fire to the 
sacred garden directly in front of the High Minister's palace. The entire 
garden was incinerated before fire officials were able to arrive on scene. 
Found watching the fire in a gaze of terror was the High Minister's younger 
sister, Marina, age 10. Four were arrested for the crime, but it was to be 
believed there were as many as ten arsonists involved. They proudly proclaimed 
the beginning of an underground resistance to High Minister Frawlan that was to 
be called the 'Order of the Empty Crown.' The four criminals were then 
sentenced to execution, the sentence being carried out one week after their 
trial." It went on in more detail.

   

  Numero Dos. Dated eleven years ago. It read, "High Minister Fraw." 

   

  Knocking. At the door. Doran had arrived. Jason beckoned him inside and Doran 
loosely carried two reports in his right hand, outstretched, offering them. 
After Jason took them, Doran said, "The Order of the Empty Crown has brought 
shame upon the Ministry. Until peace was reached a year ago, through severe 
negotiations, the Order never stopped. They were like this rain outside. 
Relentless. Restless. Like a hive of drones. I hope that with the help of the 
crew of your ship, we can finally end their terrorisms." And with that, Doran 
made his exit. 

   

  Jason then continued on with the second report. "High Minister Frawlan, his 
wife and First Prolate Corrina, and his sister and newly appointed Second 
Prolate Marina, were kidnapped while returning home from ambassadorial visits 
to Telex by the Order of the Empty Crown and were held hostage for twenty days, 
undergoing tedious torture and interrogation. When the Ministry's secret forces 
discovered the Order's whereabouts, they stormed it almost immediately and 
successfully rescued the High Minister and First Prolate, who were found to 
have bruises and lacerations covering their entire bodies. Second Prolate 
Marina was found an hour later, hiding in a ventilation duct, bruised only five 
times. Marina was, as quoted by the head of the rescue mission, 'too shaken for 
speech and sleep.' The leader of the Order was thought to have narrowly escaped 
during the raid. Captured and interrogated was Greoc Ty Rusae, 
second-in-command of the underground resistance. Interview documented below:

   

  Interrogator: What are your reasons for the continued revolutions against the 
high minister?

   

  Rusae: His rule is unjust. His bloodline is tainted. 

   

  Interrogator: Be more specific.

   

  Rusae: His family is a scourge to this nation and all of its people. We only 
want what is right for the people. 

   

  Interrogator: Why torture Frawlan and his wife? Why not kill them? And 
Marina, his sister? Swimming in her body is the same blood as he. 

   

  Rusae: They refused to understand the wrongs they have injected into this 
civilization. We will not let them die ignorant of their own crimes. 

   

  Interrogator: What happened with Second Prolate Marina when you kidnapped 
them?

   

  Rusae: The sister surprised us all. When we took her she seemed to be so 
scared she couldn't move. We had to hoist her up and carry her motionless body 
away. Then, when the opportunity came, during her first beatings, she managed 
to escape. How is a mystery to me, for the torturer is dead. Your raiding 
troops killed him."

   

  The interrogation was a two-act play, and Jason had the gist of it from scene 
one. He discarded it. Remaining were seven more documents, just a tiny fraction 
of the myriad counts of rebellion and revolt against the High Ministry. Those 
seven were smaller counts of assassination attempts, bombings, another 
kidnapping, this time only Marina. She was held hostage. All of these, he had 
read, and now read again. Once finished, he opened a new can of worms. The new 
documents. The new evidence that the Order of the Empty Crown has indeed arisen 
again. Jason read them. Then read them again. A gust of wind slammed the 
falling rain against the windows even harder and the upside-down ocean of gray 
flashed and belched a tumultuous rumble. He heard voices outside. Loud 
chanting, masculine, and heavy footsteps smashing the shallow puddles in the 
cobblestone ground. The Guard. Hideous, they sounded, gnashing and gnarli ng 
and grunting and growling orders as they jogged around the square. What was in 
the reports made his skin almost burn, the sweat nearly boiling and dissipating 
in light steam. 

   

  Jason rose, the squeaking of the wooden chair on the floor merely an 
underscore to the torrents on the other side of the wall. He looked out the 
window at an approaching figure, cloaked and moving quickly, femininely. It was 
Marina. Coming to see him. Turning around he grabbed only the files that Doran 
had given him, leaving Marina's evidence neatly stacked on the desk. Taking 
them to the other side of the room, he got down on the ground beside the bed 
and tucked them underneath the cushions, making sure the dressings on the bed 
did not look unfit. 

   

  Marina came and went, just checking on him, making sure that the 
investigations were going smoothly. Once alone again, Jason went back to 
looking out the window. A bell far away chimed, coming from the metropolis 
nearby. This bell was the bell of dismissal, like a school's bell only for the 
day workers to go home and the night workers to begin. A scatter of dark gray 
cloaks and robes filled the square, going this way and that. Going home. Home. 
He admired them and envied them. All he wanted was to go home, even if for a 
short while. No, not the cabin on the Meridian. Home. Colorado. Earth. To smell 
Earth air again, to go outside and stroll in Earth rain. Or else he would go 
outside and drench himself. 

   

  Then came his opportunity. Amidst the stormy crowd below, an uncovered face 
was spotted, poking his head out and looking around. Only briefly. But enough. 
Jason knew that face, that shape of the head, the hair. Outside in the pouring 
rain, walking amongst the civilians, was the watcher. Out the door and down the 
hall and stairs, Jason's pounding footsteps echoed like in a gymnasium. He 
burst out the door and barreled through the crowds, knocking one man down and 
creating a nice circle of people around him, all of them looking at him with 
shocked surprise.

   

  "Damn it, where is he?" Ziredac muttered to himself. Then he spotted the 
watcher quickly moving away, toward the woods, followed by two others. He found 
himself out of the crowd and brushing bushes and branches out of his face while 
the faint gray cloaks, heads open to the air, rock in his vision and sprint 
away. The four in the woods were now soaked. The three fleeing men scattered 
but the watcher, the one in the middle, kept going straight and so Jason 
continued pursuing him. Ziredac pulled his phaser and shouted, once near to 
him, "I have a weapon!"

   

  The watcher halted and turned around, his hands upward. "This is not any of 
your business!" he bellowed. 

   

  "Then why do you have Kai and Starfire?" Ziredac shot back.

   

  "Collateral. And believe me, Mr. Ziredac, if we wanted you in our custody as 
well, you would be!" The other two cloaked men appeared at Jason's periphery 
with aimed weapons. "And you will be."

   

  After reading the reports on the Order of the Empty Crown, he was not 
surprised to hear that they knew his name. The two men began to close in on 
Jason to apprehend him. Then above, there came a deafening crack of an electric 
whip and the following horserace of thunder. All four men jumped and above 
them, the top of a mighty tree came, burning, falling down near them. The 
scorching tip tore open the back of the man on the left and he fell screaming. 
Ziredac grabbed the other man's arm and beat the gun out of his hand. The 
watcher drew his weapon and fired and missed, for Ziredac was now running as 
fast as he could away, back to the palace. Only it wasn't necessarily the 
palace he was heading for. 

   

  The soles of his feet sent a flood of tingling pain up to his knees through 
his calves. He stopped and looked around the palace square and found an 
alleyway leading into the city. Jason sprinted for this narrow opening, 
darkened by shadows, full of mist. Intercepted by the Guard, Jason stopped. The 
head of the Guard stepped forward and addressed him.

   

  "Lieutenant Jason Ziredac of Starfleet?"

   

  "Yes?" He was out of breath.

   

  "Have you any news? Any troubles? Anything with which the Guard can assist?" 
The man's voice was overbearing and pretentious. Patronizing. Large was his 
body and broad were his shoulders, and he could probably kill Jason with his 
bare hands. Between his cheeks was a smug smile. 

   

  "Just trying to get out of the rain."

   

  "Then why not head into the palace and warm up in your room? You almost 
surely passed it."

   

  "I am heading into the city," said Jason. Now gaining his stamina. 

   

  The head of the Guard approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. 
"Whatever for? Anything you need you can find at the palace. Anything." Without 
any further argument, the man made his palm on Jason's shoulder a fist with his 
uniform knotted inside. "Come with me."

   

  Panicked, Jason looked over his shoulder, back at the woods, and the watcher 
and one of the other men were both standing there, then approaching. He looked 
up at the Guardsman's face and he was still smiling and looking at the watcher. 
Twisting his body quickly, Jason freed himself from the Guardsman's grip and 
took off down the alley. The discharging of weapons were heard and on either 
side of the stone entryway to the alley, pieces broke off. Into the mist, and 
Jason was gone.



  Two plus two still equaled four.



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