What the Hell Just Happened?

Posted on Fri Aug 31, 2018 @ 3:00pm by Commander Caleb Ryan & Captain Maritza Soran

1,316 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Victory Conditions
Location: DS5/Ops
Timeline: MD08 2100

[ON]

Martiza felt like she hadn't slept in a week, even though it had only been eighteen hours. The last eight had been pure adrenaline. The stress, the horror. Her head ached, and even though she would never normally do so whilst still on duty, she opened her jacket and began to pull out the hundred odd bobby pins that held her braids in place to relieve the pressure on her skull.

The admiral, T'Vel, had been escorted to her quarters and put under house arrest pending Starfleet Security sending an investigations team, and JAG sending someone qualified enough to be given an admiral as a client.

Many of the crew of the Svikiri were in sickbay with radiation poisoning. Those not, the ones who claimed innocence, were also confined to quarters. DS5 was a Federation vessel. As such, the brig was little better than a drunk tank. There were no long term holding facilities. Mass incarceration was from the dark ages, and Starfleet had no interest in bringing it back. Security was stretched thin guarding all the rooms, and taking all the statements and debriefings would go on for days.

They had managed to save two conspirators from the A section of the Promethean class vessel. Like the others, they were experiencing radiation, but unlike the alleged innocents, these ones were much more pumped with anti-radiation meds. Hayashi seemed to have knowingly poisoned his crew. The two mutineers were, however in an induced coma whilst Sickbay tried to save their brains.

Turvan was not returning her calls. She didn't blame him. Based on the known specs for the two destroyed Cardassian vessels, he could have lost anyone between eight hundred and a thousand souls. Although McBride was gone, that would be at most a hundred and fifty people. There were no more than another fifty fatalities across the rest of the fleet. Other injuries, yes. But Starfleet had lost no more than two hundred. Hayashi had made a very successful attack.

The doors to her office swished open, and her XO walked in. She looked up to him, hopeful of something better to hear. "Tell me you have something, anything, I can tell the Cardassians?"

“Beyond the truth?” Caleb said as he went to the replicator. “Coffee. Black. Hot,” he ordered. It had been a long day. He looked over at Soran and then ordered her favorite calming tea and brought both drinks back to her desk, setting the tea before her. He had never seen the CO so...unbuttoned. “You have nice hair,” he complimented. “You should have it down more often.”

Caleb remembered Mika’s long blonde hair as he stared at Maritza, they way it brushed her spots, or curled into her blue eyes. He shook himself out of his reverie and memories and sipped his coffee.

“Not that the Cardassians will accept the truth,” Caleb had to admit. “We got fooled, hard. More’n egg on our face, we got the whole damn omelet.” He took a breath. “One silver lining. We at least got someone might be willin’ ta talk ta us. He’s in surgery right now. Took a phaser to the gut.”

Caleb rubbed his eyes. “We have another problem with the Cardassians, too. The team we sent to return the Cardassian boy Bretav got back during all that shit. We only just got them back on the station. Ensign Kivan was badly injured. Only he and Ensign Mayhew made it back. The rest are dead, including Legate Umar. Mayhew is writing her report, and Kivan is still in surgery.”

"Tell me he'll live?" She wasn't sure she could hold her patience with that arrogant bully Turvan if her engineer died. Turvan had wanted him on the mission after all.

“Far as I know, they’re...hopeful,” Caleb said.

"Small mercy then." Another thought stabbed an ice dagger in her brain. "Temporal Investigations is going to be all over us. The fact they haven't shown their faces yet worries me."

Caleb nodded. “Me, too. We had a time displaced kid for weeks. Ah’m surprised Ah ain’t been court-martialed.” He sighed and sipped his coffee. “Heard ya’ll had a bit of excitement over here too while we were havin’ all the fun with a mutiny. Someone broke into the project offices?”

Maritza shook her head mutely. "I'm waiting on Blue and Tessaro to finish their investigations, but it looks professional and planned. I suspect this Free Earth was looking to get everything on the Svikiri and then disappear. They've got all the plans. They could make more of those blasted black hole cannons."

“Ah imagine it takes more than just some backyard shop ta make somethin’ so sophisticated,” Caleb said. “And there are likely several highly regulated components involved. We might be able ta put out a notice an’ try an’ track those down. Ah’ve also got a contact in certain circles that can keep an ear out. Th’entire arms smugglin’ community’s in disarray after Torm’s death.” Caleb considered what Hepzibah had told him. “There are a few big names might be interested in it. And...perhaps Ah could arrange for one of those ta make sure the plans get back ta us.” He sipped his coffee. “If the thieves were interested in it for its resale, that is.”

"Let's hope they are." Maritza picked up her tea and took a sip. "Though I doubt it. I think your first thoughts are on the nose. Watch the parts." She set her cup down again. "We have to debrief Admiral T'Vel. Find out if she's a conspirator or a useful stooge."

Caleb nodded. “Ah’ll get on that with Lieutenant Tessaro,” he told Maritza. “An’ this Nick Bolero character.”

"Yes." Maritza frowned at the mention of the man who had apparently turned on the mutineers on board the main section of Svikiri. "Who is he?"

“According to his personnel records, he was a security officer on the Camelot before transferring to the Svikari,” Caleb said, his voice even. “Nothing really stands out in his file. Fairly average security officer.” Too average, Caleb knew, designed not to attract attention. “I’m not sure I can say much more,” he told Maritza, giving her a meaningful stare.

"Ah. I see." Starfleet Intelligence was the bane of her life. This was getting interesting. "I shall call Starfleet Intelligence. Get me a sample of his DNA so I can send it on, verify his identity. Whose side is he on, do you think? Ours or theirs?"

Caleb paused, considering how much he could say. “If he is working for whom I suspect, I couldn’t be positive, but I would lean ours,” Caleb said. “And...your DNA search might just come up Nick Bolero, unremarkable officer.” Caleb paused again. “Odd, though. He’s usually more careful. He had to have known I was stationed here.”

"Alright, you obviously know things. You question him and get some answers. I want to compare his story to Starfleet Intelligence. You don't get to suborn an advanced R&D project without a lot of friends in a lot of high places." She leant forward, resting her forehead on her fingers, massaging her fingers against her temples. "Hells bells, what have we walked into?"

Caleb nodded and smiled wryly. “Likely machinations within machinations if he’s involved,” Caleb said, standing. “I’ll get right on these interviews.”

"Thank you. I'm going to contact the Cardassians for the usual diplomatic noises. They'll probably spit in my face, but it has to be done. And I shall have to make a statement to FNN, let the station population know what they should know." She rubbed at her temples. "Good luck with Mr. Bolero."

[OFF]

Commander Maritiza Soran
Commanding Officer

Commander Caleb Ryan
Executive Officer

 

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