Location: SS Astraios
Another endless droning Council meeting in the airless room they provide because it's tradition to do so, and, I lost my cool. Yes, yes, Toocool lost her cool. I'd laugh but it isn't funny, not at all.
It started with this dimwit on the Council - Forqeekac Spennafic - who pontificated for one hour, thirteen minutes, and twenty-five seconds about his vision of Astraios. All those weighty and long-winded thoughts could have been said in one short sentence: "Trade is money, we need money, thus we need Traders, and we will have them no matter what." He had the audacity to suggest that since the Civilian Authority had 'granted' Starfleet land for a settlement, that the same courtesy should extend to others. He specifically named the Klingon Pegh as well as the Dosi Merchant Association as two groups that should be offered land as a base for their trading.
At that point I rose, out of order, and said, clearly so all could hear, "Starfleet came here at the request of this Council in order to protect this planet, system and sector. In exchange, we received one 'region' where we could build our Academy. May I also remind you we have since purchased several tracks of land adjacent to our base, and we pay our taxes into your coffers, even for the original piece of land you gave us. We get nothing for free. We have earned this little piece of land with the blood of our crews and their unstinting devotion to the duty of protecting you. Hundreds of lives have been lost protecting you from the Spouwwqna, the Tremonites, the rogue Klingon pirates. And now you want to extend to some of these same groups the 'courtesy' of a presence here on Astraios, where they may conspire against you, spy on you, work against you, smile to your face while they stab you in the back? Have you all lost your collective minds??" I turned and stomped out, my Marines marching after me as the Speaking Manager called for order.
Sometimes a dramatic exit speaks volumes.