History Lesson II

Posted on Tue May 29th, 2018 @ 12:13am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor & Commander Fiona McCray
Edited on on Tue May 29th, 2018 @ 12:13am

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Past Tense
Location: Starfleet Academy, History Wing, year 2285
Timeline: 2285
Tags: BonneChanceTrio

Professor Wallace waited patiently while his class scanned their PDDs for some evidence of the Bonne Chance Three. Of course, he had blocked that specific search from his classroom for the day, so they would have to be a bit cleverer than that to answer his question.

"Ooo OOO!" evidently someone had mastered the art of quick searching, and was using a bit of unconventional thinking in the classroom today. Wallace pointed his finger like a phaser. "O'Brien, whattya got for me?"

"Umm... The Caitian is Selune... she was Chief Helmsman. The redhead is Chief Engineer Fiona McCray - huh, that has to be Mad Bonnie's kid, right? And the other two... Chary-beedis... somethin, I can't make heads nor tails of Vulcan names. She was the First Officer of the Bonne Chance... the Trill is uhhh... not one of the three... oh man... she's still on active duty!" he exclaimed excitedly

Telak, his Vulcan sensibilites still clearly disturbed, resorted to a childhood tactic of distraction.
"Vulcans do not have tails. And why was Officer Bonnie angered?"

"Probably 'cause the syndicate offed her kid maybe?" came a mutter from somewhere in the classroom. There were a couple of guffaws and expressed opinions that the Vulcan on the screen did indeed have a tail... and a rather shapely one at that.

The young Vulcan tried to word a pithy reply but finding none forthcoming, he sat back in his seat and arched his eyebrow almosy petulantly. "It is not even a Vulcan name..." he expressed to no one in particular.

"Lieutenant Commander Yuna Celes!... that's the trill's name!" someone else called out.

"Five for O'Brien, nice work there Barclay, too little too late though, no prize for you." The hand that giveth taketh away, mused the Professor.

"Aw, man...!"

"So now we've established who they were, and why the Syndicate was angry with them. We know who the prime figures of the Syndicate were- these were men of power who maintained that power through the respect gained from fear... fear of crossing them, fear of failing them and fear of retribution. When the 'Bonne Chance Three' returned planetside to finish out their shore leave, the Syndicate knew of their reservations, and know where to strike. And now we understand why," explained the historian, pausing for effect.

"Because if Starfleet officers could be retaliated against for crossing the Syndicate, that sent a very powerful yet subtle message throughout the galaxy. Even the Federation didn't cross them without paying the price."

"On the night of Stardate 56786.63, the three young women were ambushed in a remote cabin in what is now the Radiant Peninsula arcology. From all accounts they fought a surprisingly effective commando action... they were outmanned, outgunned, from all evidence taken by surprise and their assailants were no simple thugs- these were highly trained mercenaries and well-equipped killers for hire. They were nearly away in their shuttlecraft according to eyewitness reports when their shuttle imploded in some sort of subspace fold- it has never been determined exactly what destroyed their vessel, and with no wreckage to analyze we will likely never know the real cause of their demise, save for the likelihood that their shuttle was booby-trapped."

The image of the foursome was still onscreen and a snicker went up from the phrase 'booby-trapped', but it died down when the morning after footage of the exploded and burnt structure where the trio had fought for their lives came onscreen.

A hush fell on the class as the looked at the rubble. "Holy crap," someone summed it up in two words.

"As is tradition, the next of kin were notified... of the three, Commander Charybdis was a solitary orphan with no family, and as an emotional V'tosh ka'tur outcast of Vulcan society her death was unmourned. Lieutenant Selune was also an outcast of her people, as she had chosen a career of which they disapproved, and it is unknown if her family grieved her loss then, or had done so when she had initially departed for the stars. By all reports they were outstanding officers who had made their homes in Starfleet, who might have made quite a mark on the galaxy." The history professor switched to a photo of a large family- a mother, father, five large adult men and the young redheaded woman with the mop of unruly bright red hair that they all shared.

"But Lieutenant Commander Fiona McCray came from a large and close-knit family. A family with deep roots in Starfleet, she had grown up expecting to take her place amongst them, and as the only daughter she had followed in her mother's footsteps... a mother who was proud of her offspring, and fiercely protective of her. When word reached Earth of her daughter's death, she was heartbroken." Wallace paused... yep, dead silence... he had their attention now all right.

"When she heard the popular press reaction, that heartbreak turned to rage... then to cold vengeance."

"You see, rather than calling for retribution against the Syndicate, the press instead chose to focus on the dangers of meddling in affairs that were 'not our concern' and how the Federation should not be used as a 'police force for the galaxy'. In short, the opinion of the fourth estate was that these young women stuck their noses in where it did not belong- and in essence, they got what they deserved."

"This did not sit well with Bonnie McCray. Not well at all."

The screen flickered this time there was sound and motion as well as imagery. A murmur swept through the class as they recognized the Federation Council chambers at the Presidio.

A small woman in the Star Fleet dress uniform of the time period stood at the supplicant's lecturn on the floor of the assembly room. Behind her sat the men from the McCray family photo and the Trill officer Yuna Celes.

The camera zoomed in on the woman's face as she began to talk. There were the remains of what had once been breathtaking beauty in that face, as Bonnie McCray had aged well. She was a handsome woman with high cheekbones and sharply chiseled features. Her hair was a darker more subdued shade of auburn than her daughters and was liberally streaked with white. Grief had etched deep lines around her mouth and eyes but her demeanor was almost frighteningly calm. Her voice was a clear throaty alto liberally seasoned with a highland accent and far too large and resonant than should have been able to be contained in such a delicate looking vessel.

"Respectfully, Mr. President... I'm speaking nae only as a grieving mother, but as a Starfleet officer. What happened on Risa was nothing less than an act of terrorism against the Fleet. If it goes unanswered, then our servicemen and women will be hostage to any petty thief with an agenda or an axe to grind. If we do not take steps to break the back of this syndicate not only will they grow bolder in their actions, but the people of Risa will be held hostage. As their allies it is clearly our duty to take action."

There was a flurry of debate and shouts of descent. Bonnie stood still and straight as a statue listening to the shouts then she leaned forward and intoned. "If not us...who? If not now... when?" she took a deep breath. "One of America's founding fathers said 'The only thing evil needs in order tae triumph is fer good men tae sit idly by and do nothing." Her jaw worked a moment then she spoke again her eyes bright with fury.

"I'm not a guid man... and I'll be damned if I will sit idly by," she swallowed hard and continued, "With or without your support, this blight on the Risan people and that sector of space... will... be... ended. I have a crew... all I need is a ship... just one. If we have to pay for a ship we will but I would rather have Fleet resources backing us, as a legal federation warship will send a stronger and clearer message. If I fail then... the failure is mine... if I succeed then the success will be Starfleet's."

The professor paused the feed and leaned against the podium grinning. "Now... no one is sure if Bonnie McCray had erotic images of someone with a goat as Mister Stone suggests, or if her speech simply moved the council to action... but she pulled her strings and she got her one ship. Can anyone tell me the name of that ship?" he asked the class.

Cadet Gordon's hand rose, and Wallace called on her. "NCC 1247... originally named the USS Tucker, but McCray had the registry changed to rename her the USS BaenSidhe," she answered with curiosity in her voice as she read the information from her PDD. "But I thought it was naval tradition that renaming a vessel was bad luck?"

"Correct, cadet, on all three points. She was renamed, it is considered bad luck in naval tradition... and in the forty two days that followed, the Banshee very much lived up to her name."

The class sat spellbound while the professor proceeded to describe the cold, methodical and in some cases relentless manner that the Baensidhe's captain and crew dug up, went after and eliminated the Risan Orion Syndicate and their cohort. Newsholos showed arrests and space dogfights that bordered on brutal.

"As good as her word, the Captain of the Banshee broke the syndicate completely, utterly and thoroughly. She didn't quite dig up their homes and sew salt, but suffice it to say that names were named to the point that the Syndicate eventually even suspended their own policy of eliminating informants, because they were simply running that low on manpower."

"In the end, Caesar and Brutus chose to hole up in the bunker of his 'palace', believing that a costly ground battle would ensue which Starfleet would not have the intestinal fortitude to undertake. The Banshee issued warnings to civilians to clear out, explaining that anyone remaining inside would be considered hostile. The Syndicate called it a bluff, under the logic that the starship would not fire upon civilians. Commander McCray waited the allotted time, then formally declared everyone within to be a hostile. With one photon torpedo spread, 'Mad' Bonny McCray proved them quite correct that a ground battle would be too costly, as she circumvented it completely with aerial bombardment. There is an unsubstantiated rumor that Caesar himself called and tried to renegotiate, but communications logs were tragically disrupted and that rumor was never confirmed or denied as additional torpedoes were delivered, reducing the once stately residence slash hotel slash casino to a smoldering crater of ash, while inflicting heavy damages to the surrounding Rome arcology."

Pausing for dramatic effect while the video images played out onscreen, Professor Wallace turned to face the class once more. "Risa is now one of the safest planets for Fleet members to visit. inside or outside of the Alliance. And attacks upon Starfleet personnel within the Federation has never risen to those levels ever again."

"Unfortunately, some would say that the renaming curse did take its toll, for The Banshee's commander and a good portion of her senior staff were court martialed for taking extreme measures above and beyond what was necessary. Some claimed that were she not reigned in, Commander McCray would have blazed a trail through the Orion sector itself, wreaking her vengeance upon those who struck down her only daughter."

There were gasps and mumbles of "that's not fair" from a couple of the more romantic souls in the classroom.

Professor Wallace held up a placating hand. "Military justice is not an oxymoron, and though she and her senior staff were indeed tried and found guilty by a military tribunal, rumor has it that Commander McCray's stay in the brig was nothing short of hospitable. She was given every comfort possible and likely had a few more smuggled in, as she was detained at a minimum security facility. After all, she and her staff turned themselves in, and were a low flight risk- after all, they crushed the Syndicate on Risa. It stood to reason that if they desired to engineer a jailbreak they could probably manage that just as easily, but Commander Bonnie McCray had claimed her eye for an eye, and revenged her lost child and the friends that fell with her. For her part she seemed quite content to serve out her sentence and then she retired... with her full Starfleet pension, honors and rank intact"

The bell sounded and a few of the cadets surged to their feet. "Alright... writing assignment for our next class! Give me two pages on court martialable offenses in Starfleet or a biography on one of the Bonne Chance 3, your choice which, and remember that I can read Fedepedia too...!"

 

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