Episode Fifty-Nine - "Inmate"

Star Trek: Fortitude

Season Four, Episode Ten - “Inmate”

By Jack D. Elmlinger

PROLOGUE

“Come in.”

Valerie Archer entered the Ready Room of the USS Fortitude to the frustrated huffing and sighing of her Captain and lover. Pacing back and forth across the length of the large, spectacular window that provided the backdrop of Santrag II, Ewan Llewellyn had his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Upon noticing his First Officer, he paused only briefly, inflating his muscular chest in a dramatic fashion. His expression said it all, despite the obvious mood hanging over him.

“No luck?,” Valerie confirmed more than asked.

“With Rear Admiral Blackmore out of action, I’m the ranking Federation Starfleet representative in the Santrag system,” Ewan fumed, resuming his pacing. “You would think that somebody down there would have the time to answer my calls!”

He pointed out the window at Santrag II.

“Things have been getting tense lately,” Valerie pointed out, trying to bring the boiling aggravation of the Welshman down a notch or two. “The Santragan People’s Freedom Democracy is a young government, Ewan. give them time to accept their newfound authority. Hell, they only kept Veth Ka’Gerran around to act as an ambassador to Starbase 499 because he knew how the game worked! Things were never going to stay the same. We’re dealing with --”

“-- Veth Ka’Gerran,” the Captain interrupted her. “He’s the one that I’ve been trying to call!”

“Oh… and there’s been no response?”

“Five hours and counting,” he revealed. He stopped pacing long enough to allow Valerie to approach him and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It was the right move, just as she always managed to break through. His hand joined hers as a sign of thanks. “I just wish they would get back to us.”

The monitor on the Ready Room desk started to beep.

Finally!

Upon reading the incoming message, Llewellyn began to wish that he had never been contacted at all. The frustration on his face was quickly replaced with a potent mixture of confusion and sorrow. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“What is it?,” Valerie frowned.

“Veth Ka’Gerran… He’s in prison!”

ACT ONE

Captain’s Log, Stardate 52547.1;

My efforts to reach Ambassador Veth Ka’Gerran have revealed him to be incarcerated at the pleasure of the Santragan People’s Freedom Democracy. While I’m not sure about the reasoning behind such an imprisonment, I have little doubts that it is connected to the illegal assistance that we provided him earlier in the year. Feeling personally responsible, I have arranged for Commander Archer to visit Ambassador Ka’Gerran and find out what’s going on down there.

A sleepy early evening Bridge crew was wrenched back from peaceful slumbering daydreams by the Captain’s presence. Marching from his Ready Room, Llewellyn assumed a central position and got the attention of Jason Armstrong. Peering out from underneath his floppy blonde fringe, the young ensign listened as the unexpected orders were given in a quick, snappy succession.

“I want to speak with the surface.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Get me whoever is in charge of this People’s Council that they’ve got down there.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Put them on the main viewscreen.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Do you know who I’ll be speaking with, Ensign?”

“Aye, sir,” Jason answered automatically, biting his tongue a second later. “Uh, I mean, no… No, Captain, I’m sorry, I don’t. Hold on, I’m getting a reply.”

As Llewellyn turned towards the viewscreen, everybody who had been watching the operations officer plant his foot squarely in his mouth joined him. There would be time to feel sorry for Jason later. Something had irked the Captain and the forthcoming conversation was obviously going to be heated. Arden Vuro, Gabriel Brodie, and Valerie Archer all adopted their game faces as the Kentuckian at the back of the Bridge stopped short of burying his flushed cheeks in his open palms.

The Bridge was overlooked by a large representation of an equally large Santragan male, middle-aged, and obviously doing well out of the current political climate. His pale skin and portly statue were markings of his profession. Politicians always managed to remain a galactic constant somehow. With an odd balance of annoyance and diplomacy, he addressed the entire Bridge.

“Starship Fortitude… what can I do for you?”

“I am Captain Ewan Llewellyn,” Ewan introduced himself. “To whom am I speaking?”

“My name is Tret Bra’Kala. I am the current holder of the People’s Council Rotating Presidency and therefore the man that you will be dealing with for the next… ohh… six Terran months. Captain Llewellyn, it’s a pleasure to finally speak with you.”

“President Bra’Kala,” Llewellyn continued after the traditional forced smile,” am I to understand that former Prime Minister and current Ambassador to Santrag II, Veth Ka’Gerran, is currently imprisoned on your world?”

“Unfortunately, yes… you are.”

“May I ask for the reasoning behind his imprisonment?”

“He violated the People’s Council and contacted Starbase 499 for assistance during the recent incident involving a natural storm that swept through our capitol. I’m sure that you remember the incident, Captain. I gather you turned him away. That must have been a difficult decision to make, given your friendship with him. Allow me to personally thank you for respecting the ruling of the People’s Council.”

Llewellyn averted his gaze from the viewscreen. The deception had obviously worked. None of the officials on the surface of Santrag II knew that four disguised Starfleet officers had returned with Veth and provided the very assistance that was outlawed. Either that or this President Bra’Kala was being deliberately accusatory and sarcastic in that unique tone that politicians always managed to achieve. Not knowing which answer to take from the conversation, he pressed on.

“Mister President,” he managed to say in the calmest Welsh accent that he could muster,” if Ambassador Ka’Gerran was found guilty, then there must have been a trial. Under the laws of the Federation, I and half of my senior staff should have been called to testify at that trial. Since we were never called, I must protest.”

“The evidence was damning,” Tret Bra’Kala replied. “The jury reached a verdict before a summons could even be made. I have those summons on record. They can be transmitted if you like for your own peace of mind.”

“I would very much like that. Thank you, Mister President. What about visitation rights?”

“He has the same rights as any prisoner.”

“I’m grateful for your honesty in this matter, Mister President.”

“Anything for the man who saved this world in the past…”

The viewscreen returned to displaying the depths of the Beta Quadrant as Ewan recoiled at that last final parting blow. He could have just been referencing the End skirmish from the first year of Fortitude’s posting or the encounter with the Borg Cube heading directly for Earth or even the nasty betrayal involving Tano Jmara and the secret Shurvun invasion fleet… but there was a sneaking suspicion at the back of his mind that he was, once again, making a sly reference to the fact that four Starfleet officers had breached the sovereign orders of a Federation member, several months ago. Great Scott, this was turning into a complicated dance.

“Visitation rights,” he repeated to himself, musing over the facts.

“Thinking of seeing an old friend?,” Valerie offered, stepping forward.

“No, but you are,” the Captain ordered her. “Get down there and see what Veth has to say about this trial of his. I want to hear his side of the story because I don’t believe for one damned second that the Santragan People’s Freedom Democracy gives a damn about Federation legal proceedings any more. If there’s been a breach…”

“Then what?,” asked the First Officer. “We’re going to spring him from jail?”

Llewellyn answered with a long, silent stare.

It was enough to shut Valerie Archer up.

* * * *

She materialized just outside the holding center.

The Santragan prison guards eyed her with suspicion and mistrust. It was far from the reception that a Starfleet commander expected to receive on a member world, but then again, she thought to herself, Santrag II was far from any normal member world at the moment. There was a shroud of mystery surrounding the social evolution currently underway that not even the most powerful sensors aboard the gigantic starbase in orbit could penetrate. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the doubt cast over her uniform and presence, Valerie Archer stepped inside.

He sat behind a thick wall of transparent aluminum. It was all very old-fashioned.

Hollow, soul-destroying eyes rested in deep sockets.

The flicker of recognition that crossed them wasn’t enough to brighten his mood.

“You’ve got a visitor, Ambassador,” snarled one of the guards.

“Hello, Veth,” Valerie said, awkwardly, trying to smile at him.

The hollow eyes closed to avoid giving the observing cameras any hints.

“Commander Archer,” Veth Ka’Gerran whispered,” you’ve got to get me out of here!”

ACT TWO

“I didn’t expect to have company… Well, not beyond him, of course.”

With a gesture towards the occupied biobed, Ewan Llewellyn approached Station Master Erica Martinez as she worked on a few system reports alongside the comatose Rear Admiral Edward Blackmore. It wasn’t like there was a schedule or anything but this was the first time that he had come to see his superior officer and find competition for a seat. If it was anybody else, he would have come back later but Erica was a compassionate person with a strong head on some responsible shoulders. She would understand. As the Starbase 499 medical level continued to absentmindedly move around them, he peered her shoulder and scored a look at her work.

“I was always bored by system reports,” explained the Latina woman. “Boxer was the only person who ever managed to make me do them. Old habits, I guess.”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me,” Ewan said, smiling.

“So, what’s your excuse?”

“Worry. I come here and talk to him whenever something’s bothering me. These days it usually involves talking about Santrag II. I assume that you’ve heard about what the People’s Council did to Veth Ka’Gerran?”

Erica slowly nodded, her sadness evident on her dark features. “He’s such a good man,” she told the Captain. “I feel so sorry for him.”

“A lifetime of service, trying to help his people and look how they repay him.”

The conversation fizzled out. There was an almost uncomfortable edge to this chance encounter. More so on Martinez’s part, thanks to the distant echoes of her romantic feelings for the Captain. Two entirely different jobs, two opposing ranks, and yet they shared this. It wasn’t until this crisis befell Edward Blackmore that they had realized just how much they needed the Rear Admiral. He had been the lynchpin holding the whole Federation's presence in the Santrag system together. If he was conscious, Llewellyn would have put good money on Boxer being able to save Veth Ka’Gerran from prison. He would have gotten answers over that as-yet-unexplained hijacking of the USS Steamrunner, and he would have sorted out that self-important People’s Council, saving countless lives in the aftermath of that storm… without breaking the law.

“When’s Commander Archer due back?,” Erica finally asked him.

“Any moment now,” Llewellyn told her. “I guess I’m just killing time here.”

Another long period of awkward self-aware silence followed.

“How’s the arm?,” Erica inquired, trying again to continue the conversation.

“Fine,” he lied, still not entirely comfortable with the artificial limb and flexing it as he spoke, hearing it faintly whirr beneath the false skin. “It takes some getting used to though. That much you can be sure of.”

“I hope I never have to find out for myself.”

“Heh… Me too, Erica.”

It was another painful few minutes before his combadge chirped. “Llewellyn here,” he answered instantly, tapping his communicator.

“Commander Archer has returned from the surface, sir. She’s in your Ready Room.”

“I’m on my way.”

With an excuse provided, the Welshman left Erica alone with Boxer as he was literally saved by the bell.

* * * *

It was Archer’s turn to pace back and forth across the Fortitude Ready Room.

Upon entering the room, Llewellyn quickly diagnosed her mood. Seeing Veth Ka’Gerran in prison had obviously shaken her. Was he really being treated that badly? Could Santrag II, a member world of the United Federation of Planets, really sink that low?

As he stepped closer, he could see tears threatening to escape from Valerie’s eyes. Without thinking twice, he gathered her up into a tight embrace, emotionally supporting her through her trauma as well as physically supporting her athletic frame.

The hug lasted a while. Nobody said anything.

A report was only delivered upon parting.

“He asked me,” she whispered. “He wanted help in escaping.”

“Bloody hell… it’s that bad?”

“The man hasn’t eaten a square meal in weeks. Screw what President Bra’Kala said about upholding Federation laws! On the surface, sure, everything looks clean and above board, but Ewan, we know Veth Ka’Gerran. That’s the one thing that they can’t change. The one thing that tells us that something’s not on-the-level down there. He’s quiet, withdrawn, panicked, and subdued… a total mess.”

The Captain kept his own emotions under control. It was a challenge to say the least. “All right,” he said in a soothing tone,” tell me exactly wha…”

“Captain to the Bridge!”

“Perfect timing,” Llewellyn snarled with sarcasm.

Running up the short flight of stairs from his Ready Room to the Bridge, he found nothing out of the ordinary. The viewscreen displayed a small Santragan shuttle blasting up from the planetary surface. Dozens of them came and went all the time, despite the strict new regulations imposed by the People’s Council. With a frown of impatience, hating to leave his lover in such a state, Llewellyn demanded an update from Ensign Armstrong. At least, today, the Kentuckian was refreshed and on the ball.

“There’s a Santragan shuttle on an intercept course.”

“Surprise me,” the Captain dared his operations officer.

“Sir, they’re hailing us and asking to speak directly with you. The pilot is… No, the pilot claims to be… Ambassador Veth Ka’Gerran.”

It was only then that Ewan noticed Commander Archer standing in the doorway to the Ready Room.

They exchanged a silent stare.

Damn…

ACT THREE

Captain’s Log, supplemental;

Upon taking receipt of Veth Ka’Gerran’s shuttle, the Ambassador has requested official asylum aboard Starbase 499, a request that I cannot refuse under Starfleet regulations. While I keep him secure, I await the forthcoming outburst from the Santragan People’s Freedom Democracy. They are obviously not going to be pleased that Ka’Gerran escaped, mere minutes after Commander Archer left his prison complex.

Erica Martinez walked into her private office aboard Starbase 499 with a mind loaded with problems and issues. Her arms were equally loaded with PADDs. Each one of them a new report, record, log, manifest, or timeline… gah! There were some days that she just hated her job as Station Master. All it took was one look out of her window, across the superstructure of the starbase, at the world below and the stars beyond… Today, beating her to it, was an invitation to dinner from Gabriel Brodie. It put a smile on her face as she dumped the PADDs on her desk.

The smile quickly vanished when she realized that she wasn’t alone.

Turning around, she screamed in shock.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“Please, please, don’t yell! Erica… Erica, it’s me!”

The outstretched hands of Veth Ka’Gerran calmed the Latina woman down. Her reaction was explained by his appearance. Having been incarcerated for quite some time, the Santragan’s access to hair care products has been limited. The ring of gnarled horns protruding from his scalp was almost entirely covered by wisps of gray hair that framed his rapidly aging features. His once-sparkling eyes were sunken and empty, devoid of any life, excitement… save, of course, the excitement of being screamed at by Erica Martinez.

“¡Madre Dios, Veth!,” she gasped, clutching her chest. “You scared me!”

“I’m deeply sorry, Erica,” the Santragan apologized slowly, the moment adding to the innocence and sorrow etched onto his visage. “Captain Llewellyn said that this was the safest place for me to stay for the time being.”

“Stay…?”

“Oh, dear,” Veth sighed,” he hasn’t told you, has he?”

“Well, seeing as I walked in here, thinking that this was still my damned office, I would have to say that’s a pretty safe assumption! Care to clue me in?”

“I’ve requested asylum here. Captain Llewellyn helped me beam over without being detected. He is currently sending the shuttle that I arrived on, deeper into the Beta Quadrant so that those on the surface and, in particular, those on the People’s Council remain unaware of my current hiding spot. Erica, if I returned to Santragan custody, there’s no telling what will happen to me. An asylum request was my only hope.”

The Latina woman nodded along to his words. When he had finished, she turned on her heel and marched straight back towards the door with her fists clenched at her sides. There was no way in the entire Galaxy that she was going to let this blow over without having her say.

“Wait!,” Veth called out behind her. “Where are you going?!”

The door’s sliding hiss was his only response.

* * * *

Ewan Llewellyn needed to get out of his Ready Room. He had been spending far too much time cooped up in the place recently. Five hours of trying to contact the surface hadn’t helped, and then only to find another fresh incident… crisis… whatever you wanted to call it… only to find another event waiting for him after finally getting through? It had planted him right behind his deck.

This time, the monitor on his desktop showed the repugnant features of Tret Bra’Kala. The incumbent of the People’s Council Rotating Presidency was being his usual diplomatic self and it drove Ewan up the wall.

“With all due respect, Captain,” the small viewscreen relayed from the surface,” I find the timing of Veth Ka’Gerran’s dramatic escape to be curious. Our records show that his last visitor was your First Officer, one Commander Valerie Archer. Tell me, did she mention anything to you about Veth planning an escape attempt?”

“No, Mister President,” Llewellyn repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. “Let me make it absolutely clear that Starfleet had nothing to do with the Ambassador’s escape. Let me also make it absolutely clear that Starfleet answers to the United Federation of Planets and as a member world of the United Federation of Planets, Santrag II had sovereign authority in such matters. It would be highly illegal and immoral for me or any member of my crew to be complicit in Veth Ka’Gerran’s actions.”

“That is well understood, Captain. I was merely wishing to establish clarity.”

“I don't blame you, Mister President.”

“Did you attempt to contact Ka’Gerran’s shuttle at all?”

“No efforts were made by my people. Shuttles come and go from Santrag II all the time, Mister President, as I’m sure that you’re well aware of. We don’t make a habit of stopping them all for a chat. It would be highly unproductive.”

“I see. Well, the People’s Council has authorized two Santragan cruisers to give chase to Ka’Gerran’s shuttle. In the interest of Federation community, would you be so kind as to give them the coordinates of the shuttle’s trajectory?”

“I’ll have them ready and waiting,” Llewellyn concluded. “Good hunting, Mister President.”

“Thank you, Captain. Have a good evening.”

There was barely a moment to collect his thoughts as the desktop screen switched to the static crest of the United Federation of Planets. The noise that it made was quickly chased by the noise of the Ready Room door chimes. Rubbing his tired face with an equally tired right hand, Ewan got to his feet to accept his guest.

Erica Martinez stormed in as soon as the word “enter” had passed his lips.

“Ah, I bet you’re here about Veth.”

“Congratulations,” the fuming Latina woman snapped at him,” you’ve just won the fucking jackpot. I mean, for God’s sake, asylum, Ewan? You granted asylum to a fugitive of a Federation member world?! Do you have any idea how complicated and insane that this situation has become? If Starfleet Command ever hears of this…”

“Oh, come on, Erica!,” the Welshman retorted in his own defense. “When was the last time that we spoke with San Francisco? Can you even remember? Boxer was always talking about how we’re on our own out here and damn it, he was right! Veth Ka’Gerran is our friend and ally! What was I going to do? Call that idiotic People’s Council and tell them that he’s hiding out in your office? Erica, you’re here, twenty-four seven! You’re the one person that I expected support from. Honestly, don’t give me the damned third degree!”

Martinez wasn’t listening. Terrified brown eyes had locked onto Llewellyn’s left hand. It took a long pause for him to catch on.

The synthetic appendage had been holding a steel coffee mug. The Captain’s outburst has caused him to lose control of his mechanic reflexes. Slowly, as he had ranted on, his fingers had crushed the mug down to the size of a tennis ball. Coffee was leaking out from several fractures. Its former cylindrical form was entirely obliterated.

Ewan’s cheeks blazed crimson. “I… I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” Erica interrupted him. “You obviously feel very strongly about this.”

With a wrenching sound, Ewan separated the remains of the mug from his vice-like grip. For some reason deep down inside himself, all he wanted to do was to cry. Being in a job like this was already unstable enough without… this.

“One last question,” his colleague asked him before she left,” did you help Veth escape?”

There was no answer given.

There was no answer that could be given.

EPILOGUE

Everything has worked out fine.

With a heavy heart, Veth Ka’Gerran looked down upon his homeworld from the relative safety of Starbase 499’s lavish guest quarters. The People’s Council had bought the shuttle’s random course. Several minutes ago, a pair of sleek Santragan cruisers had roared past, their tri-winged hulls pointing towards their empty target. One wondered about their reactions upon finding no fugitive criminal aboard.

Well… that would be a problem for another day.

It was most likely that they would think that he had switched vessels or beamed down to a planet somewhere. Ewan Llewellyn was a good man. He and Valerie Archer would have plotted that flight plan to allow for such possible assumptions to be made.

Veth hated tricking his own people.

Santrag II used to be such a noble world with a society that one could be proud of. But now? Now the desire to modernize and overhaul consumed logic and reason in the political classes. They were heading for a meltdown. The People’s Council had been since the revolution. Nobody could see it. Nobody, that was, except him. And where had that foresight landed him?

A token figurehead role as Ambassador…

A dark, damp prison cell…

A refugee aboard a Federation Starbase…

Turning away from the window, Veth Ka’Gerran closed his eyes and wept.

He wept for his past, his present, and for his people.

Only a glimmer of hope kept him from weeping for the future.

The End.