How I Got Here: "The Meeting"
18 Apr 2024Columbuss
Commander Justin Estok. Stardate 18-APR-3310."Is it possible that you're looking for a connection where none exists?"
The sun peaks through the haze of the thinly veiled atmosphere of Amun A-5 as the sensors on the wrist of my suit indicator light up with an approaching vessel. Squinting my eyes and looking up through the glass of the face mask, I can see jet trails streak across the sky behind a small black dot that grows and gains definition with each passing second. The light ring of its engines crescendos to a deafening roar as it angles itself downward. The nose of the approaching craft pitches up, leveling the hulking vessel with the surface as its thrusters start to burn, slowing its descent for touch down. Instinctively, I raise my I arm to my helmet, shielding my view from the eruption of dust kicked up by the thrusters as the Type-10’s landing gears deploy and settle down into the soft, red soil beneath. I feel the vibration reverberate through my suit and up my legs as the heavy transport ship touches down, the noise from its engines slowly dulling to a soft hum.
“They’re here,” I say into my comm.
“Roger,” Finn replies. “Bring them inside.”
The surface crunches beneath my boots with each step as I begin walking toward the ship. The wind on the surface picks up where the thrusters left off sending thick streams of dust past my helmet. The sound of small rocks and particles of soil clatter against the frame of my suit as I approach, still holding up one arm to brace myself against the wind. Turning into the wind, I glance over the top of the not so distant mountains, seeing the light backdrop of stars peak through the pale blue sky as the jet streams of air nose dive down and across the mountain's slopes, down onto the barren plain I'm standing in.
My attention turns back toward the Type-10 as the familiar, mechanical whirr of the off ramp catches my ear. I take a few steps forward to get a view up the ramp as the tip of it settles gently into the red, purplish surface. Several pairs of boots, then legs, appear as the ships cargo begins to disembark. The first two are an older and slightly younger man, both donning military style suits indicating some kind of rank.
Behind them, a person of slightly smaller stature in a worn Dominator suit that suggests they're no stranger to being shot at. They stop at the base of the ramp, moving slightly to the side and standing just behind the first two men. I watch as the figure reaches down, checking the sidearm holstered firmly to the exterior of their thigh before looking back up toward the small building behind me.
Third, and last, down the ramp is a slightly hunched, more decrepit looking figure sandwiched between two armed Dominator suits. The first couple down the ramp step aside, making room for the hunched figure who approaches me in what looks like a custom made, all white Artemis suit with the Alliance symbol on one shoulder and the Al Minaan flag on the other. As they approach, the hunched figures face plate clears, revealing the face of a weathered, older woman. Looking over the group, I hold up my hand to indicate tuning to channel three in their comms before the weathered old face begins to speak.
"Chairman Halmina Farrow. Here at the request of Finnegan Hardy."
"Welcome Chairman Farrow," I reply, with a slight nod of the head I'm sure I'd seen in a movie somewhere. "Please, follow me."
Once inside the airlock, Brandson restores the atmosphere and opens the interior doors. Walking inside, everyone following me begins removing their helmets. The two men who came together set theirs down on the table nearest to them before walking the length of the room, taking the place in and stopping in a corner to talk under their breath to one another. The two Dominator suits flanking Chairman Farrow help her out of her helmet but leaving theirs on as she settles into this space, adjusting to the low gravity. Lastly, the smaller figure approaches me.
"Never thought I'd see you again," a female voice says through the helmet.
"I'm sorry," I reply. "Do I know you?'
The woman removes her helmet, shaking her hair free and tucking the helmet under her arm.
"Ragina," I say, reaching out and taking her hand in mine.
"How've you been?" she asks with a smirk. "Escape from any pirate fortresses lately?"
"Ugh," I reply. “You wouldn’t even believe.”
"Do you two know each other?" Finn asks, walking up behind us.
"Are you kidding," she says. "I'd be dead if it weren't for him."
"YOU saved MY life," I reply. "Not the other way around."
"Finnegan Hardy," Chairman Farrow says, reaching out and holding Finn's hand between her palms. "I haven't seen you since your father was alive. I was an old woman THEN and you were just a child. Now you're a man and, as it happens, I'm STILL old."
"Thank you for coming Madam Farrow," Finn replies with a smirk. "Your presence here is an honor and much appreciated. If you wouldn't mind taking a seat, I can tell you why I've asked you all here."
"Let's start with how you're still alive," the older man says from the corner of the room, in a thick accent, before carelessly sliding down into a chair at the table in the center. "Last I saw, your ship was burning up before disappearing above Al Mina B1 and not so much as a word since. While the rest of us were in the trenches fighting for our homes, and the lives of our loved ones, Finn Hardy was where, exactly?"
"All in due time, Miles," Finn replied.
The rest of the attendees take seats at the table while Finn approaches the head resting his hands on a small podium that waits for him there. Standing off to the side, with Brandson close behind, I watch as Finn looks over the group he'd gathered before taking a deep breath and beginning the speech I'd watched him rehearsing for the past few days.
"Thank you all for coming. Some of you know me, but for those who don't my name is Finnegan Hardy. Son of Dhonald Hardy and descendent of the first men to set foot in our home system of Al Mina. The people in this room, Chairman Halmina Farrow, Ragina Surrey, Miles Gregoyavich and Sal Brocchio make up what remains of the Al Minaan resistance to the occupation of our home. You'll notice there's one chair empty," he says, motioning to the one extra chair set out at the table. "That's because our friend, and fellow patriot, John Grayson, was executed yesterday on the command of, the self appointed, Supreme Chairman Grill."
"We've seen the headlines," Miles replies. "It’s all over GalNet. I never liked him much myself."
"Whether you liked him or not is immaterial," Farrow snaps back, "his execution was a crime.”
Farrow turns her gaze from Miles back to Finn, the stern look in her eyes growing soft again.
“Finn, this loss has weighed heavily on my heart. It truly is a tragic loss for all of us. Grayson was a good man and a good fighter. A true Child of the Twin Suns."
"He was a born leader and a good friend," Ragina added. "He'd saved my life more than once. I owe a lot to him."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Miles interrupts. "Was it Grayson who drove the Dynasty out of Al Minaan space?! Or was it Grill? I'd ask you Finn but you weren't around to see it."
"Shut it Miles," Ragina says, drawing Miles' sneer. "Finn and I fought the Dynasty together. We all have. He's risked just as much as anyone."
"The fact remains," Miles continues. "It was Grill that drove the Dynasty away from our homes. It is because of him that our lands are safe and the fighting is over."
"Chairman Grill made a deal with Remlok Industries Miles," Farrow replies. "Don't speak on issues you know nothing about. I was there. It was Remlok's influence and a significant amount of money, what you might call a bribe, that sent the Dynasty troops home."
"Remind me Madam Farrow," Miles continues. "How much time did you spend at the front line under artillery fire from Dynasty guns?"
"Wars are fought in more places than the front line," she says. "And when I could still fly I fought and bled for our home before you were born. You would do well to remember that."
"Friends! Please," Finn interrupts, trying to regain control of the room. "This is precisely why I have gathered you all here. When the Dynasty crippled my ship and I was left for dead, my friends here rescued me. Friends who, on my orders, have been looking for a connection to the terrorist bombing that destroyed the capital. I have since taken up the investigation with them and have uncovered significant evidence that links Chairman Grill to the perpetrators. John loved Al Mina and, like me, had ties to Al Mina's first settlers. I knew him and I knew his heart. He was like a brother to me. He would never have done what Grill is claiming."
"Show us this evidence then," Miles interjected. "We're here now, for what I'm assuming is what? Another call to war? Show us your evidence, detective. Show us why you would have an entirely new generation of Al Minaans die for you."
Finn turns to Brandson, motioning for him to activate the projection at the center of the table. A holographic image of the evidence gathered so far projects itself in the space above the desk and between the attendees. Finn begins to go through our findings one step at a time. He tells them about the Cirillium. He tells them about Ardulo and Astral Projections. He tells them about Frederik Abbot and his assassination. He tells them about Nova Matella and our shoot out with unknown attackers in the Paresa System. Lastly, he reveals that all of it has something to do with an unknown player we know as Rising Damp and that the information recovered from Octavia Quinton's now smoldering asteroid base contains the location of the next step in our search.
"The evidence we have is significant," Finn replies with a sigh. "But it's incomplete. I... WE... need more time to make the final connections. We just need time to make them stick. The information we've recovered from Octavia's derelict asteroid base points us toward this Purple Council and the Cemeiss system. Once this meeting concludes, we will set out for Cemeiss and bring this investigation to a close."
"Conjecture," Miles says, leaning back in his chair. "All of this is conjecture. There is nothing solid here that links any of this to Chairman Grill. If you HAVE uncovered some nefarious plot to bomb our home, it may point in one direction or another, but it doesn't point to him. John Grayson was convicted and executed for his involvement in these attacks and the council certainly came with more compelling evidence than this. Is it possible, Finn, that you're looking for a connection where none exists?"
A tense, yet somber, feeling washed over the room. The attendees had clearly been expecting a grand reveal that would warrant the feelings they'd been harboring for many long months.
"I was with John," I said, stepping forward out of the corner of the room and next to Finn. "I was with him during the purge. I was with him in his office when three Dynasty assassins barged in with automatic weapons and tried to kill him. I was with him when our ship was shot down by Federal fighters and I was with him when the Federal authorities took him. I have travelled from one end of The Bubble to the other looking for those responsible, trying to clear his name. I was too late. My friend.. OUR friend... is gone because I couldn't move fast enough. I have to live with that. But this doesn't have to be the end of his story. We can honor his memory by bringing those responsible to justice. We need a little more time. Just a little bit more time and we WILL bring those responsible forward. You have my word."
"Ah. This must be the Federal who died, went into hiding and was 'brought back to life'," Miles replies. "The former Crane Syndicate hitman who was 'killed' by The Empire for murder while under the command of an Earth Corp. Isn't that right? I didn't know Federal agencies employed career criminals. Has anyone here had a chance to look into his past? If you had, you might think twice about what his ’word’ is worth."
"And what of your past Miles?!" asks Ragina. "There's a slew of war crimes with your name all over them as I recall."
"Therein lies the difference Ragina," he replies. "My 'war crimes', as you call them, were committed during times of WAR. Not carried out at the will of some ruthless gangster trying to turn a profit.”
"It's true," I reply, addressing the room. "I was a criminal in a past life. I've done things that I'm not proud of. I own my actions. I don't try to hide behind the guise of being a 'freedom fighter' because the one who gives me orders wears a tie. No, Miles, you and I are the same and you're every bit a hitman as I was."
"I've heard enough," Miles barked with a sneer, slamming his fists on the table. "I won't sit here and be insulted by some career criminal and an incompetent halfwit living in his fathers shadow! You'll have no support from me!"
Miles stands up with Sal following close behind. Grabbing his helmet, he secures it tightly to his suit before angrily walking through the air lock. The hiss of the sealed airlock door venting the atmosphere fills the room as the outer doors open and shut behind him. The rest in attendance rise from their seats, preparing to follow.
Farrow approached Finn, placing her hands on his, still resting on the podium at the head of the table. She takes a long look in his eyes, as if to try and calm his nerves without speaking.
"I believe in you Finn," she said. "Never mind him. He's lost many men at his command this past year and sold his soul for peace. He has no cause left to fight for. The rest of us, we remember what Al Mina was. Grill is a tyrant. He has soiled the memory of our forefathers and our democracy. I know your heart and I know you'll do whatever it takes to get that back. I know you'll do the right thing. Contact me when you have something more… concrete."
Farrow turns toward the door while the two guards help her secure her helmet.
Ragina stands up next, walking toward Finn and placing a loose pistol round on the podium. Finn reaches out, taking the bullet into his palm and looks up at her.
“I remember,” she says. “When you’re ready, I’ll be there.”
Ragina steps back to the table, grabbing her helmet and securing it to her suit before following Farrow into the airlock. Stepping back inside, the door closes behind them as the atmosphere is sucked out of the room once again, allowing for the outer doors to open and for what was left of the Al Minaan resistance to head back to the ship they came in on and back to the system they all so desperately were trying to save.