LtCmdr Jovenan – If this is diplomacy, I won’t ever want to meet a diplomat
Jovenan
((En route to Commercial Area, Boraxian Cityship))
The alien aerial vehicle flew past towers and spires that emerged from the complex architecture of the surface below them. Their Yurum pilot controlled their flight either with the power of their thoughts or with so subtle movements, Jovenan couldn’t replicate them if she had needed to – not the least because of her lack of two extra hands apparently needed for the operation. Despite her caution whether Luirétt could actually fly the small vessel considering their claimed inexperience, they moved ahead smoothly and without ever risking a collision. As the smoke column grew larger and the nearby buildings reflected the light of the fire, Jovenan began giving instruction to the foreign representative.
Jovenan: Try to find a spot where we can see what’s going on, but keep our distance. Do you know what building that is?
Bancroft: Ow! Lieutenant, that’s my spleen – I need that.
Ignoring the junior officers’ squabble in the backseats for now – if those were even backseats, every moment spent in the craft had made her more certain that it had not been designed to hold four people – Jovenan focused instead on the area ahead and on Luirétt. The ground around the burning building was coming into the view.
Luirétt: I’ve unfortunately never been in this area of the city before, Commander.
The flames danced in the air as they rose up from the building and coloured everything around it in the orange and yellow hues. There were some other crafts in the air around them, likely observing the fire like Jovenan and her team were. Jovenan couldn’t find obvious firefighters near the building. She didn’t know much about the Boraxian damage control, only ever meeting the one team aboard the New Hope, and they were likely not a professional team after all, so she could have been wrong about the lack of teams responding to the disaster. However, there were certainly people present to the emergency: a crowd had gathered in front of the flaming building. It seemed odd to her. Although she knew that many humanoids species and cultures had a fascination with fire and disaster, bringing forth the bystander effect, she would have thought that the people’s self-preservation instinct would insist a slightly larger separation between the watchers and something as terrifying as the disaster.
Jovenan: Who are those people?
Bancroft: ::squinting:: Something about this doesn’t seem right. That’s not panic… it’s more like a riot met a flash mob and decided to play with matches.
Bergmen: Commander, it would be wise for us to pull back a bit. Mobs like those, things can get ugly quickly.
The Lieutenant was right, they had placed themselves in danger by coming this close to the crowds and to the fire. The Boraxians didn’t seem to mind them, yet, instead focusing solely in the fire, one group throwing things at it and behaving like one would expect from a mob that had set fire upon the building of their oppressors, while another were performing a ritual in the apparent worship of the flames. Jovenan turned to Luirétt. They didn’t respond to her question, and to Jovenan, they appeared confused and almost terrified.
Bancroft: Where are the authorities? Security forces… ::searching for the right analogue:: damage control teams?
Luirétt: I don’t understand...
Jovenan frowned at the Yurum leader still watching the crowds bewildered. A thought had crossed her mind: these people were reacting to the Yurum faction’s secession. Although, even if that was the case, she couldn’t figure out who they were rioting against and who they were standing with, the Yurum, the Boraxian government, the society or some other entity or concept she couldn’t yet comprehend. She didn’t know how to get Luirétt to explain them. Should she ask her again, shout, shake them out of their deep thought?
She was forced out of her own thoughts by the calamity that next occurred outside. A structure collapsed, spreading some material to the flames, causing them to spiral upwards as a massive column. Jovenan’s eyes were wide, while Doctor Bancroft in the backseat shielded his face. Starfleet had introduced her to much destruction and atrocity, from the crater city of Tecra to the dead battlegrounds of the Frontier Day, but she had not yet become numb to it.
Bancroft: That was grain! I think this is – was – a food depot…
And then… and then Luirétt opened the lid of the craft. They didn’t offer Jovenan even a moment to consider the implication of the most recent change in the event she had witnessed, or to see how the crowd reacted, when they were exposed to the hot air and the smell of smoke.
Bergmen: Luirett, no! Close the lid!
Jovenan: What are you doing!? Get in!
She surprised herself by how firmly she had given the order. Luirétt may not have been her subordinate, but seeing what kind of danger their acts could place themself and the Starfleet team during their own process of asylum application, she should have had the authority to issue such a command. However the case, they didn’t seem to follow it.
Bancroft: Response
Luirétt: ::shrill voice:: You must stop!
Jovenan could do little but observe the Boraxians nearest to them turn towards them. She hoped that would be all, but instead, Luirétt found a way to activate the voice transmitters of the craft – why it had those in the first place was unknown to her.
Luirétt: ::voice amplified:: Please, listen to me, my family. You must stop this. You are afraid, and you are desperate, I understand this. These times are scary for us all. But you must find strength in yourselves, strength to resist these impulses. Listen to me, I beg of you.
Boraxian: That is-
Boraxian: Luirétt?
Boraxian: The Yurum, they’re back?
Boraxian: The Holy Fires answered our prayers!
The Boraxians were rapturous, although not elated; their voices thundered not of joy but of desperation, anguish, yearning. They were a starving nation, and Luirétt was a cornucopia, overflowing of what their souls desired, a god that they couldn’t wait to come closer. They were throwing themselves at Luirétt, fighting against each other to reach them first if they were ever able. Jovenan’s expression flashed between pity, disgust and fear.
Bergmen: Commander! We need to go, now
It was easier to say than done, when it was the only person apparently capable of piloting the craft.
Jovenan: Luirétt! Cease that, you’re placing us in danger! Get. Us. Out!
Bancroft: Response
Boraxian: Don’t touch them!
Boraxian: The Yurum are back!
Boraxian: The Yurum are free!
Boraxian: Luirétt!
The rioting crowd grew more violent, and they were soon all fighting against each other, perhaps for the blessing of the Yurum, perhaps for something else. Another, larger craft hovered over the crowd. Ignoring the flames and fire, its ramp opened, and for a moment Jovenan feared they might be witnessing a massacre. However, a somewhat less gruesome scene played in front of them, as the craft spread some viscous liquid on the people, hindering their ability to move or continue fighting.
Bergmen: Ma’am, what will we do?
Jovenan’s eyes darted from the violent scene and the Boraxian riot-control vehicle to the Yurum, whose expression displayed nothing but defeat and shock now. She didn’t know how to fix this now. If she could rewind time, she would try and stop Luirétt from ever appearing to the crowd, but now that was too late, the riot had already begun. She had to admit: she might not have been ready for this level of diplomacy… this level of responsibility.
Jovenan: I…
Bancroft/Luirétt: Response
A loud sound akin to a horn blasted itself over the voices of the Boraxian rioters. Yet another craft entered the scene, but unlike the previous one, which despite the efforts to subdue the rioters, had been met mostly with disinterest, the rioters ceased their conflict with each other for a moment to instead redirect their aggression towards the craft. Jovenan believed this one was a Boraxian equivalent to police or military, if they had one.
Boraxian: Don’t touch them!
Boraxian: The Yurum are free!
This had gone too far, for too long. Jovenan couldn’t expect mere orders to be effective with Luirétt. She grasped the Yurum faction leader by their shoulders. It was likely a breach of their sacrosanct status among the Boraxians, but she couldn’t expect them to be allowed to resume neither sulking nor inciting the rioters any longer. They needed to start listening to her.
Jovenan: Luirétt! You’ve placed yourself and us in danger by inciting the crowd and drawing undue attention to us. You can’t use us as your shield. I cannot permit you to continue to use this asylum application investigation as some sort of platform for whichever political… religious… societal agenda you may have. I need you to start cooperating with safeguarding your own security and freedom, and that of ours.
Luirétt/Bancroft: Response
Jovenan couldn’t believe what she was doing. She had been given a task with even the remotest diplomatic responsibility, and here she was, crammed into too small a craft, physically handling a foreign dignitary and shouting at them. Nothing in her past told her that would be an acceptable method of conducting diplomacy. Genkos wouldn’t have done that. Neither would have Talos. Or Captain MacKenzie… Okay, maybe she would have, but only with a good reason. Jovenan wouldn’t have thought herself as such a person.
Boraxian Security Officer: ::voice amplified:: You are known. You are seen. Please, respect and enjoy the peace!
Bergmen: Ma’am, we should probably identify ourselves to… that.
The police/military craft had gained what appeared like the goo dischargers of the first vehicle, although she supposed there was little to differentiate them from more lethal options the craft might have in their possession.
Jovenan: Who are they, the police? I don’t think we have the option to start fighting with them either. On the other hand, we might be forced to surrender you to them if we follow their orders.
Luirétt/Bancroft/Bergmen: Response
Jovenan sighed. This was going so, so badly wrong. The Captain was likely engaging expertly in the calm negotiations with the Boraxian Advocate, expecting them to return with Luirétt and evidence of the conditions in which the Yurum lived. And now, they could lose everything and get captured themselves as well. She should have had the insight to refuse Commander Munro’s request for her to act as her XO; she was clearly not ready and mature enough for responsibility.
Jovenan: Can we contact them?
Luirétt/Bancroft/Bergmen: Response
Nodding, Jovenan spoke, hoping that the security craft heard her.
Jovenan: This is Commander Jovenan of the Federation starship Artemis. This craft is carrying Yurum named Luirétt ::scowl at Luirétt, then back at the security craft:: under our protection and care. Please state your intentions.
Luirétt/Bancroft/Bergmen: Response
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Lieutenant Commander Jovenan
Acting XO (Chief Science Officer)
USS Artemis-A
E239911J11