The fall of the Federation was considered inevitable by a majority of experts by the late 2150s, and many saw in the Nullification Crisis of 2164 the beginning of the end. However, if you were to go back to 2165 and tell them that within twenty-four months the Federation would be effectively gone, shattered by civil war and Communist revolution, they would probably disagree with you and even dismiss you as a radical of one camp or another.
At the time, most academics, and even policy analysts, had failed to understand the deep current of discontent against the Federation in the Colonial populations (in general, as opposed to individual charter colonies, which were easier to judge), and with this came the judgment that it would take at least another generation for the threat of a total collapse by a unified effort of the colonies to change the system. The American case of the 19th Century was used as an example; the first clear crisis between North and South, free state and slave state, occurred forty years before the American Civil War, and the process of the break between states took nearly twenty-five years, from the start of the petition crisis in the Congress of 1836 to the election of Abraham Lincoln. The Federation Nullification Crisis, similar in spirit to the American one of the 19th Century, was used as a starting point for this process, and it was expected the Federation would last at least until the 2180s, if not to the beginning of the 23rd Century AST.
But as often happens, history took a turn none foresaw. In October 2165 AST, an internal Federation review of colonial finances found that a number of charter colonies were not reporting their national GDPs accurately and were claiming them much lower than they actually were. The news leaked to the public and sparked protests and condemnations of the colonies, most specifically Pacifica, which had been the worst offender. The Federation Council ordered the charter colonies to reimburse the government for the dues that were not paid as a result of the trickery.
All colonies reluctantly agreed.... save Pacifica.
After the Nullification Crisis had ended with a relative draw - the colonies proving willing to rebel openly if the Federation did not back down from another due increase - the Pacificans had grown bolder in asserting their legal rights, long ignored or subverted by the Federation. Their militia was now effectively an army, armed with surplus equipment from the Alliance's massive Dominion War stocks. Like many colonies, Pacifica had taken advantage of the Dominion War and the aftermath to purchase the surplus warships that had been flowing out of Alliance shipyards and, in retrospect, had put together the perfect fleet for waging a war of resistance against the Federation. The Federation Government had even endorsed this, seeing it as an alternative to keeping Starfleet at strength, and only realizing the danger during and after the Nullification Crisis, when they started to reform Starfleet as well.
The Pacificans made an error early on that guaranteed the war would come; they assumed that the Ovnork Presidency would react as it had to the earlier crisis and negotiate. But they did not. By this point, Ovnork had been so reduced in influence in the Idealogue Party that he was effectively bullied around by Jacob Wilmington, the Party Clerk, who was closely allied to Hector Milano, the new C-in-C of Starfleet. Both were founders of the Association for Federation Unity, a militarist branch of the Idealogue Party born out of the Dominion War that favored a pseudo-fascist corporate model for the Federation as opposed to it's current welfare-state system.
Instead of negotiation, a Starfleet vessel, the Geronimo, was sent. Once in orbit of Pacifica, having to that point claiming innocence and the ferrying of a government official appointed to "work with Pacifica", the Geronimo suddenly and without warning beamed President James Tyler and his Cabinet, as well as many key leaders of Congress, on board and from there to the Presidential Mansion, where they were held as prisoners. The local Idealogue Party leader, Horton Raymond, was appointed Governor of Pacifica by Ovnork and declared a curfew and a limit to protest in the streets of Jefferson and Lafayette, the two major cities of Pacifica where Federation offices were present. Thus began the Pacifican Crisis.
The Federation's ham-handed efforts at suppression enflamed the populace of Pacifica. The colonies on Pacifica and it's surrounding worlds, united under the Federated Republic of the Pacifican Worlds and granted charter by the Federation nearly two centuries prior, had been founded by immigrants from the former United States who refused to accept the dissolution of the American Republic by the new government on Earth (itself a recognition of a fact established by the outcome of the Third World War). Though the population in some areas had diversified, the Pacificans remained largely loyal to their American roots, and the actions of the Federation had long rankled and offended them. This, quite literally, was the last straw.
The protests continued in defiance of Raymond, who ordered Starfleet into the streets to "keep the peace" after local police forces proved unable and mostly unwilling to do as Raymond wished. The result was virtual martial law, with a growing contingent of Starfleet Security being sent in by Wilmington and Milano while forced exactions, meant to pay back the lost dues from the years of understated GDP, closed down Pacifican businesses and banks and depleted the planetary treasury.
While all of this occurred, the Pacifican militia remained on the sidelines. They no longer had a recognizable legal authority to send them into action and none of the commanders were quite willing to commit themselves to rebellion without further reason. To his credit, Raymond resisted attempts from Milano to order the disarmament of the Pacifican forces, knowing full well it would spark just such a revolt.
This state of affairs continued for almost two months until a spark lit aflame the Crisis and brought about the sequence of events that led to the outbreak of the Federation Civil War.....
- Excerpt from the Opening Chapter to "A Short History of the Federation Civil War" by Lawrence Williamson, Prof. of Modern History, University of New Virginia, published 2189 AST
Jefferson, Pacifica, United Federation of Planets
Universe Designate ST-3
11 December 2165 AST
(4 July 2380 ST-3 Calender)
Despite the tumult of the previous weeks, and the near state of martial law imposed upon the public by Governor Raymond while the government of Pacifica awaited trial under house arrest, the people of Jefferson had tried to retain a normal life. Despite the closing of banks from the rush of attempted withdrawals, despite the closing down of businesses or their official seizure by Starfleet on behalf of the Federation, and despite everything that had done so much to disrupt them, the people of Pacifica stoically tried to soldier on and live their lives as they pleased.
One thing they had decided to keep on schedule was the yearly July 4th celebration, another homage to the American roots of the Pacifican worlds. Most cities had them to varying extents, including firework displays and the like. Governor Raymond had not rejected this, desperate as he was to avoid provoking the populace, but he had been forced by his superiors on Earth to raise the Starfleet presence should the celebrations turn into "mass riots", the euphemism in the Federation for any wide-scale anti-Federation demonstrations on a charter colony world.
The celebration in Jefferson was taking place in Liberty Park along the east bank of the Washington River, with the Main Street Bridge and the skyscrapers of downtown Jefferson to provide a scenic backdrop to the fireworks and for a concert being performed by the Screaming Eagles, a rock band formed on Pacifica some time before. Over a hundred thousand people jammed themselves into Liberty Park to enjoy fireworks, music, and other festivities, a chance if anything to escape from the growing pains of what was swiftly becoming a military occupation by Federation authorities.
After nightfall, with the first batch of fireworks having gone up already, the rock concert began. For thirty minutes the band serenaded the crowd with newer music and older music, gaining cheers from the assembled as everyone had a decent time.
Then, standing amongst his fellows, band guitarist and singer Harry Molosky raised a hand toward the audience. The thirty-three year-old's voice boomed across the park. "Hey, hey hey, Jefferson! Not just Jefferson, but all of Pacifica! Hey, folks, I know that these are tough times, I mean, I really do. We've all lost jobs, lost money, or had friends and family lose jobs and money, because of this occupation! But you know what?! We don't have to take this lying down! We can raise our hands and our voice and say, 'We want our lives back!' And just remember, folks, that we've had this happen before! And do any of you remember what happened the last time we were taxed without representation?! Huh?! I'm sure you do!" Molosky's voice had to strain to get over the roar of the crowd. "And this here, this is what happened last time!"
The band picked up the music again, a rock rendition of "Yankee Doodle Dandy", before they moved to a new tune, one that they'd found from records of old 20th and 21st century rock groups. And after about thirty more seconds of instrumentation, the words of the song began to roar over Liberty Park.
"A desperate situation!
Forced to retaliation!
The task ahead, a burden
Men will suffer, that's for certain!
We'll charge into the fire!
The cause, we must inspire!
We raise our fist to tyranny!
A high price, Freedom is not free!"
The crowd began to roar their approval, their hands and fists raised, while the band performed more instrumentation before beginning the next stanza.
"The odds are stacked against us
But with our resolve relentless
And arrogance their weakness
Our cause is just, we won't be beaten!
Upon this declaration
Will come a brand new nation
Where men are seen as equal
Governed by and for the people!"
And with that, the crowd still roaring, they began the chorus.
"So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!
For INDEPENDENCE I will FIGHT!
With liberty I will defy!
So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!
Give me LIBERTY or give me DEATH!
I'll FIGHT 'till my last breath!"
As the first chorus ended, a plethora of fireworks erupted in the night sky, in red white and blue, and one set even detonated in such a way that the bright embers falling in the night sky emulated the flag of the Colonies during the War of American Independence.
Instead of moving on to the third stanza, Molosky's voice broke over the crowd, the guitarists still playing a strong riff and the drummer keeping up with the beat. "C'mon people, let's do the chorus again and again!"
And so the crowd joined in.
"So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!
For INDEPENDENCE we will FIGHT!
With LIBERTY We will defy!
So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!!
Give me LIBERTY or give me DEATH!
WE'LL FIGHT 'TILL OUR LAST BREATH!!!"
They repeated it once more before Molosky broke in. "We'll give you the tune, you give us the words!"
And so the crowd sang, the Screaming Eagles providing the music for them, and their combined voices were strong and clear, full of meaning and intent.
"So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!
For INDEPENDENCE WE will FIGHT!
With LIBERTY We will defy!
So we make our stand and pray
On this DECLARATION DAY!!
Give me LIBERTY or give me DEATH!
WE'LL FIGHT 'TILL OUR LAST BREATH!!!"
Content that the crowd had let loose it's repressed feelings over the occupation, the band moved on to the next stanza.
"With virtue as our beacon
Our cause is charged as treason
Battle worn and starving
Through the hell of war we'll keep marching
The birth of our new nation
An act of desperation
We'll force...."
And then the music came to a shrieking halt. The words were drowned out by the shrill sound of a transporter effect, and five distinct columns of light enveloped the Screaming Eagles until they vanished, torn away by the transporters of the Starship Geronimo in orbit. The crowd looked around, bewildered and confused, and only starting to notice that virtually all of the city's Starfleet Security contingent had surrounded the Liberty Park and the concert area.
The sound system came back on, but this time it was a man speaking in a somber, business-like tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, by order of the Emergency Federation Governor of Pacifica, you are ordered to disperse to your homes. Repeat, you are ordered to disperse. Any who resist will be arrested and tried for disturbing the peace under Federation law. Please disperse and return to your...."
And the crowd exploded.
This, then, was to be the spark. The final catalyst for the volatile mixture that the Federation had unwisely created among the Pacifican people. The crowd had come to enjoy music and festivities. Instead the harrassment of the Federation had followed them here.
And they weren't going to take it anymore.
Almost instantly, a number of fights started at the periphery of the crowd, where they were confronted by the dark-uniformed Starfleet Security troops with phaser rifles in hand. The Starfleeters were armed, they were not, but in a moment of rage a growing number of people set upon the Starfleeters. They screamed and cried for beamout, for reinforcements, for the Geronimo to do something to stop the enraged crowd, but before they could do anything the crowd erupted from the thin cordon of biege-turtlenecked Starfleeters and into the streets of Jefferson. They walked across the Bridge toward downtown Jefferson and across the suburban areas of the eastern bank of the Washington River.
Beaming them up wasn't an option; there were too many for the transporters to get in time. All Starfleet could do was try to contain them, and when this failed they fell into confusion, uncertain of what to do.
Governor Raymond was a stout, bookish man, a political hack of the Idealogue Party who'd spent his career in various party and government positions. He'd been born on Pacifica, and so Ovnork had tapped him to be governor.
But though born on Pacifica, Raymond really wasn't Pacifican, and he mostly dismissed "his" people's attitudes and past as nonsense and "reactionary".
When he'd learned what the band at the celebration was doing, Raymond had immediately cursed his laxity and ordered Starfleet to break it up. Now this had blown up in his face; the people were in the streets and despite an attempted media blackout the news was spreading like wildfire.
An aide stepped into Raymond's conference room, where he and his "ministers" were monitoring the situation. "Sir, we've successfully cut all land and satellite communication."
"That means nothing if we can't jam all transmissions," Raymond barked in reply, sweating profusely as he thought of how everything was spiraling out of control.
His Starfleet advisor was Lieutenant Commander Rebecca Halls. Cmdr. Halls was actually in her fifties, having retired some years prior before she returned to Starfleet during the Dominion War, taking membership in the Association for Federation Unity. She was a thinner woman, with graying auburn hair and a round face that seemed perpetually on the edge of rage. Overall, Halls was a harsh woman and her attitude since the beginning of this round had been vicious.
"Since we cannot jam all channels withou interfering with our own communications, our only recourse is to have the Geronimo stun the crowds. We can bring in screen emitters and surround them with force-shields while we make an internment camp to hold them for screening and trial."
"An internment camp?" one of Raymond's subordinates said, looking very uncertain. "There are a hundred thousand people in that crowd, even if we stun them for a few hours..."
"If they have to remain in the open at first, more's the pity, but they have left us no choice. The needs of the Federation outweigh the impassioned rage of a rebellious mob," Halls remarked. She looked to the Governor. "It is your decision, Governor, but I suggest you do something soon."
Raymond swallowed. He knew full well that the Unityists now had control of the Party Central Committee and Starfleet, and that his career, maybe even his freedom, was on the line. "Fine, you have my authorization. Have Captain Kreveth stun the crowd."
"But sir, the stunning will effect innocent people, people with certain conditions could be hurt or...."
"We have no choice," Raymond said, cutting off his complaining supervisor while Hall sent the order to orbit.
Outside the crowd was still moving through the city, other city denizens joining it out of interest or, having heard what happened, anger. Not all joined it of course, as some weren't willing to stand with the crowd if something happened or to risk arrest; their own desires or their dependents forbade this.
But it did them no good, because the beam that struck from the sky did not discriminate. The Geronimo's stun beam swept down the length of Main Street until it ended, leaving several thousand Pacificans on the ground unconscious, as well as those who had been in the buildings surrounding Main Street.
The crowd began to flee and disperse, but it was too late, and a second beam soon struck, stunning the tendril of the crowd moving toward the Presidential Mansion where Raymond ruled and the government of Pacifica was kept under strict house arrest. Thousands more were down, and over a tenth of the revolting crowd was out of action, not to mention every innocent person caught in the stun beam's radius.
A third beam struck, and managed to stun another thousand, but then it strangely winked out, leaving the crowd to continue if it desired. And when it saw the lights flashing in the night sky, they did so.
After having stood aside and permitting the Federation to come oppress them, the fleet Pacifica had raised was finally defending them.
The Plymouth - a Juneau-class Alliance-built "gun" cruiser - was one of the dozen or so Pacifican vessels that remained in orbit, keeping a close eye on the Geronimo as they waited for their superiors to decide on whether to act on behalf of their imprisoned government or not. In the ship's command bridge, built into it's armored keel, Captain Theodore Radcliffe was handling what had seemed to be an ordinary watch.... until he saw the phaser fire lash out from the Geronimo at the city of Jefferson.
His bridge crew all looked up, their visible headsets serving to keep a constant neuro-feed to the ship systems that allowed for near-instantaneous response and action. "Mother of God, what are they doing?" he heard the weapons officer, Lt. Martin Gold, say in disbelief.
"Sensors indicate the phasers are at a rough stun setting," was the remark of Lt. John Taylor at the sensor post.
"A starship phaser isn't a hand phaser," Gold said irritably. "It's powerful enough to kill people if it lasts for even a second too long...."
They all looked to Radcliffe, and he could feel the strong weight of decision upon him. At the moment, the Plymouth was the effective command ship of the orbiting squadron.. The others would only act if he acted. The burden of the first act had come down on his shoulders.
"They're firing again! Captain!"
Gold's voice shocked Radcliffe out of his momentary silence. A decision had to be made, here, and now, if he was to preserve the lives of hundreds, possibly thousands of Pacificans.
Dear God, please make this right, he thought to himself as he made a decision, a decision fated to have repercussions beyond his lifetime...
"Mister Gold, lock on Geronimo's weapon systems and fire."
The Starship Geronimo shook violently when the first particle blast struck it's unshielded hull. The hull of an Excelsior-class vessel, even a Flight III Excelsior, was not strong, and the blast tore through it like it was paper and ventilated three decks before it stopped.
Kreveth, the Andorian captain of the vessel, bellowed, "Shields up! Report!"
"We've been fired upon by a vessel, Sir," the Trill at the tactical station replied. "IFF codes identify it was a Pacifican vessel, the Plymouth, that was loitering in orbit."
"What class is she?"
"Juneau-class Alliance-built cruiser, sir!"
Kreveth frowned. The Geronimo, even with upgrades, was only a fair match for the older Alliance "gun cruiser" because it could do damage with it's quantum torpedoes; the Plymouth was just as fast and maneuverable as an Excelsior and had a far better complement of weapons. Damn the Idealogues for trying to cut corners by letting the Colonials have their own warships was the thought that went through his head, and for a good reason.
Now that one had acted, others were. A spread of quantum torpedoes from the Geronimo struck back at the Plymouth, but didn't quite make it. A smaller cruiser moved up alongside, small charges of particle fire lashing out from it's point-defense interceptors and destroying the quantum torpedoes save for one, which failed to knock out the shields of the Plymouth. "She's the New Tampa Bay, Alliance escort cruiser, Kaimon-class!"
"Switch to tactical display! Helm, evasive maneuvers, Pattern Theta!"
The Geronimo began a series of twists and turns as the two Pacifican-crewed Alliance cruisers bore down on her, other dots representing Pacifican ships starting to move toward them as well. The forward particle cannon turrets on the Plymouth fired, sending solid blue streams of energy into the Geronimo's shields. Mark XIII anti-matter torpedoes raced out from the forward launcher on the cruiser, three striking Geronimo's shields. They flickered and died under the particle cannons of an arriving ship, the Angela Samuels, one of the two older Florida-class battleships purchased from the mothball yards of the United States (SE-1) and fixed up and upgraded in Pacifica's Commercial Transports Inc. Shipyard.
"We'll get pounded to pieces if we stay, Captain!" Cmdr. Lewis Rogers, the ship's XO, said. "We have to withdraw!"
Kreveth looked very unhappy at that, but knew he had no choice if he was to save his ship and crew. "Helm, set course for Starbase 19 and engage, maximum safe warp!"
The Geronimo leapt to warp just in time, avoiding another pair of torpedoes from the Plymouth.
On the planet's surface, the ending of the phasering and the clear signs in orbit of combat emboldened the crowd. They went straight to the Presidential Mansion, where Starfleet Security began to stun anyone who got too close.
With little choice left with the withdrawal of the Geronimo, Governor Raymond, Lt. Cmdr. Halls, and their staffs fled to a runabout while Starfleet Security held the Mansion. There was no room for the prisoners of Pacifica's government, and Raymond was certain the only hope they'd have of escape would be leaving the leadership behind anyway.
As the runabout Neva made orbit, Raymond sat in the back passenger apartment with Halls. "They'll have my head for this," he sighed.
"Probably, Governor," Halls replied succinctly. She smiled grimly. "But don't worry, because I'm certain that no matter what happens to you, they'll do much worse to the Pacificans for this."
President Tyler was a stocky, well-built man, with graying brown hair and solid blue eyes that looked happily to the doors when they opened and he was greeted by General Anna Reynolds, the tan-skinned commander of the Pacifican 1st Army. "Mister President, I'm proud to announce that the remaining Starfleet Security troops on-planet have surrendered in return for being given passage off-world on an Alliance freighter," Reynolds said happily. "I'm also happy to report that the ship they're leaving on was relieved of it's cargo; $2 trillion Alliance dollars taken from our central bank and an additional $40 million worth of foodstuffs and consumer goods."
Vice President Henry Gruder, a thinner and older man, frowned deeply. "This isn't over. The Party's going to come after us, and hard."
"I know. But we've crossed the Rubicon now. Or rather, our own people have done it for us." Tyler looked to Senator Gregory Duke and said, "Senator, I want to hold a joint session of Congress by tomorrow, before Ovnork and his handlers can respond."
"I'll do what I can," Duke promised, the two men nodded despite being of opposite political parties; in this situation, as far as Tyler was concerned, there were no political parties, just Pacificans faced with a dangerous choice. "What is the agenda?"
"Today, I'm going to send a letter to President Ovnork and the Federation Council, demanding a reduction of the dues by half and the return of all Pacifican capital and businesses to their owners. I expect them to disagree. If they do so, then it'll be up to Congress to draft a response."
"What kind of response?" asked General Reynolds.
A gleam came to Tyler's eye. "The only option we'll have left, General. I'll ask Congress to draft and pass a declaration of independence for Pacifica."
Fear appeared in the eyes of the older Gruder. "They won't take that lying down, not like Nova Savona. Not with Wilmington and Milano in control. James, if you do this, then it'll mean...."
"War," Reynolds finished for the old man. She looked to Tyler. "The Armed Forces of Pacifica will do what is necessary, Mister President."
"I hope it'll be enough, General, I'll hope it'll be enough."
Paris, Earth, United Federation of Planets
12 December 2165 AST
Ovnork Re'kwish, President of the Council of the United Federation of Planets and Chairman of the Central Committee of the Party of the Federation's Ideals, was not a stupid man. Unfortunately, neither was he very wise.... or courageous. He was a politican through and through, always wavering, always trying to find the deal to get out of an impasse.
But now he had no room to squirm. Not under the cold brown-eyed gaze of the muscular, well-built Jacob Wilmington, or his thinner and more vicious comrade Admiral Hector Milano, Starfleet C-in-C. Wilmington was a clean-shaven man with brown hair growing gray at his temples, while Milano's hair was all gray, kept trim to regulation, as was his gray beard. They had him in their trap, one commanding a slight majority in the Party Central Committee and the other controlling Starfleet Command.
In the years since the Dominion War ended in the Alpha Quadrant, and especially in the year and a half since the Nullification Crisis ended with Ovnork backing down on another needed dues increase when threatened with secession from the Pacificans and other major colony governments, the Association for Federation Unity had grown ever stronger in the ranks of the Party, far stronger than the brief resurgence of Deborah Miller's PAPAL (Pacifist And Progressive Action League) could deal with. They now held a virtual majority in the ranks of the Party, and an even larger contingent of Starfleet, especially in the younger ranks, which provided Milano with a ready core of replacements for more established officers he wanted to get out of key commands.
They had been the ones to insist on the ferocity of the Federation response to the Pacificans' defiance in the face of the discovered financial discrepancies. They had demanded the arrest of President Tyler and his government and the occupation of Jefferson and Lafayette, and indeed had demanded the forced disarmament of the Pacifican military when an opening was presented. And Ovnork was powerless to do anything to stop them; he was a rubber stamp, and his only hope was to wait for them to overextend themselves while he gathered his own quiet allies in the Party ranks.
But now they had a powerful new hand to deal. Raymond had been one of his, and had been chased out ignomiously. The State Press had successfully buried the story, but word was beginning to filter through the ranks of the Party that Pacifica had gone further than any colony had before; they had fired on a Starfleet vessel, attacked Starfleet Security and forced it's surrender and withdrawal, and seized capital and materials due to the Federation by law. A strong response was necessary, and Ovnork knew it was over; negotiations would be impossible.
"So, gentlemen, what do you think should be done?" As always, Ovnork asked for his orders in the guise of seeking advice. They would, of course, play along, as both aspired to the Presidency one day and did not want to undermine the integrity of the office itself.
"We have only one recourse, Mister President," Milano announced. "We must send in Starfleet, in force, and occupy Pacifica. Their armies must be disbanded and their fleet turned over to Starfleet control."
"More than their armies, Admiral," Wilmington said, cutting in. "We should disarm them period. Outlaw all firearms and have them seized under threat of arrest and imprisonment at a Federation penal colony. This music band that sparked the riot should be arrested and imprisoned as well, and all identified anti-Federation figures in Pacifican government, academic, and cultural circles."
"You're talking about violating their rights under Federation law," Ovnork replied.
"As they have constantly snubbed their noses at the law, they cannot protest when it does not apply to them. They are in a state of rebellion, open rebellion, against us. We must crush it, utterly, before the Pacificans embolden the groups in the other charter colonies."
Ovnork looked to Milano. "I'm calling in every starship in the area. The Pacifican fleet is made up of old Alliance ships that we let them buy in the war, but it's also small, so I'm confident it can be overwhelmed."
"And what about the Alliance?"
"Dale tends to be less aggressive than Mamatmas was, so we don't have to worry about another Algrossa." Wilmington smiled. "The Dale Administration is pre-occupied with other matters anyway, and Dale won't want anything to rock the boat while the Alliance Council is still debating the matter of the treaty with the Taloran Empire. And I don't think the Talorans will look favorably on the Alliance helping a rebellion, and he certainly won't take that risk. We have nothing to worry about, Mister President."
Ovnork snorted, a particularly porcine sound from his Tellarite features. He was truly trapped, and there was nothing he could do but write and sign the orders that Milano and Wilmington had "proposed" to him. He couldn't help but think that they might be wrong.... and that this might be the beginning of the end for the Federation....
The Capitol Building, Jefferson, Pacifica
With held breath the crowd waited, hearing that the President was due out shortly with the decision of the Congress. The word had come that Ovnork was not negotiating, that the Association for Federation Unity had flexed it's muscles again and were forcing a hard line. The Federation would come again, in force, arresting any who questioned it and forcefully disarming the people of Pacifica, leaving them helpless to protect themselves and their rights.
The militias were mobilizing. Volunteers were coming in by the truckload, the news having spurred them to action. On every world in Pacifica, the people were actually relieved that the decision time had come, that the choice was so clear. Fight or submit. And right now, they were ready to fight.
When Tyler appeared, his expression was grim but determined. He tapped the microphone piece on his shirt collar before speaking. "My fellow Pacificans, today I have with me the demands placed upon the Pacifican people by the United Federation of Planets. We are demanded to submit to the following terms.
The government of the Federated Republic of the Pacifican Worlds is to surrender to the Federation and stand trial for crimes against the Federation, including treason. An interim occupation government under Starfleet will be instituted until such a time as the Federation Council deems appropriate.
One tenth of the property of the Pacifican Worlds is to be seized and placed under Federation control to cover unpaid dues required from Pacifica under the Colonial Dues and Requirements Act of the Federation Council.
The armed forces of Pacifica are to formally disband and turn their equipment over to Starfleet.
The firearms of the people of Pacifica are hereby confiscated by order of the President of the Federation Council. Any Pacifican citizen who refuses to relinquish their firearms to Starfleet will be arrested.
Any who write, publish, or demonstrate anti-Federation views will be placed under arrest until released by the authority of the Federation President.
Tyler listened to the boos and shouts of outrage from the gathered populace. Waving them down, he continued. "This, my fellow Pacificans, is the response that the Congress of the Pacifican Worlds has agreed upon, and which I now announce to you."
He swallowed and began to speak, to his people and to the Recorder of the High Court known as History:
"Throughout History, there has come times when one People must for their own security and liberty remove themselves from their association with another, and establish themselves as an Independent State within the Multiverse, entitled to the station that the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God dictate for them. Respect for the opinions of other sentient beings and for the posterity of civilization demand that they declare the reasons for their seperation.
We hold as true that all sentient beings are created as equals, and that their Creator has intended for them certain Unalienable Rights, among them the Rights to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. That to ensure these rights are secured and maintained is the purpose of Governments, and that a Government that violates these rights has lost the legitimacy of it's claim to authority and sovereignty over the people they have so abused.
The facts of the past seventy years have shown that the Government of the United Federation of Planets, which once held sovereignty over the United Worlds of Pacifica, has lost it's regard for these Rights. They have Imposed unfair taxation upon us to support benefits that are not extended to us; they have stolen the property and possessions of our worlds and our people; they have allowed our people to be abducted and enslaved by foreign persons and governments without protest or opposition; they have attempted to illegally overthrow our Constitution; they even now are attempting to disarm us by force and compel us into helpless servitude, threatening protest with arrest and imprisonment.
As such, we, the Representatives of the United Worlds of Pacifica, assembled in General Congress, appeal to the Supreme Judge of the Multiverse for the fulfillment of our just intentions for our People, and with their full support and authority, do solemnly declare the following:
That these United Worlds are and should be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved of all previous Allegiance and Obligation to the United Federation of Planets, and that all political connection between these Colonies and the Federation is and should be totally dissolved; and that as Free States, they have Full Power to establish Commerce with other States, negotiate Treaties and Pacts, operate Military Forces for Defense, and all other things that Free and Independent States may do. And to support this declaration, with reliance upon the protection and aid of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other and our People our Lives, our Fortunes, and our Honor."
The deed was now done. Pacifica and the sixty-three worlds she held under confederation had declared independence from the Federation. They were not Nova Savona or Algrossa or Nippon; they had twice the wealth, population, industry, and territory than the three prior rebel colonies combined. The Federation would not, could not, tolerate their secession. Period. There would be war, and Pacifica would either win and live, or she would be forever ground down into the dirt by the Federation.
There had indeed been some debate in the Congress about too-closely emulating the words that Thomas Jefferson had written down so many centuries before. Some were concerned that it would be too "wordy", too much rhetoric and not enough legality, and there were indeed changes made; but in the end, Tyler and his allies had triumphed on the important part. Namely, that this was not new ground; it had been trod on before, and that the same principles that motivated the Founding Fathers of the American Republic in the late 18th Century were the principles they were going to defend here in the 24th Century. The Pacifican people, the spiritual and physical descendants of the militiamen who marched out to meet the British Redcoats in 1776, were now faced with that same struggle, and that so closely emulating the Declaration of Independence from 1776 here in 2380 would remind the people of their roots and inspire them to live up to the old legacy of their forefathers.
As Tyler stepped away, he was met by Gruder. The elderly Vice President had already offered his resignation; his age, and his disagreement with the policy of outright revolt, would not be good for the Pacificans now, and he had the dignity and honesty to accept that. "We've already picked up messages from New Anglia, Novy Moskva, R'rekleshi, and Rutari. They're asking you what you intend to do."
Tyler knew that the other charter colony governments would be apprehensive. They too were among the richest of the regions left in the Federation and knew that if it came to war, Starfleet would move on them no matter what they decided upon if only out of fear of a decision to turn independent. In a way, he regretted that he had not been given the opportunity to warn them of the coming ordeal. But he had not been given the choice, and could only hope they would forgive him for the storm Pacifica was releasing upon the Federation and the worlds contained within.
"I'll send them a full report later. But for now, you can send them this reply. Iacta Alea Est."
Gruder stared at him. "And just what the hell does that mean?"
Tyler smiled grimly. "It's Latin. It means 'The die has been cast.'"
Author's Note: The Song "Declaration Day" is by the group "Iced Earth" and was released on their album "The Glorious Burden". BUY IT NOW.
