Hot Air and Brass Knuckles
Posted on Sat Nov 30, 2019 @ 9:34am by Fleet Captain Rhea Kennit & Major General Christopher Mitchell & Master Chief Petty Officer Peter Tomaszewski
3,563 words; about a 18 minute read
Mission:
Nibiru
Location: USS Victory
Nestled in the furthest reaches of the delta Quadrant, Federation Starbase DQ8 was located in an uninhabited star system comprised of four Class I planets, and massive asteroid belts which filled the system, the remains of rocky planets torn apart by the gravitational pull of the gas giants which had prevented the smaller rocky worlds from fully forming. The asteroids did however contain a wealth of raw materials, making the system a valuable asset for the Federations expansion into this part of the galaxy.
Tucked away near the edges of the Cliff, the outer most region of the Kuiper belt roughly 90 AU from the systems star if you knew where to look, sharp eyes would discover a large orbital starbase with attached space dock. The stations outer hull was a dark matte color, reflecting no light from the distant star around which it traveled in the cold depths of space. Built 6 years prior, the station was almost undetectable to sensor scans when uncloaked. Built and operated by Section 31, this far from the meddling Federation council the prohibition against the use of cloaking technology was no longer considered worth even the pretense of following. They were on the razor edge of the unknown. Being able to cloak the station and it’s crew was considered a necessity. The station only cloaked if it’s remote sensor buoys detected a threat.
Secure in its docking berth, the USS Victory was the only ship currently docked at the starbase. There were other vessels present, but these ships had moved into synchronous orbit with the station.
Aboard the Victory, on the Bridge Captain Kennit was overseeing the final certification checks on the ships sensor systems. The sensors had been calibrated to perfection, and the final approval and authorizations were signed off and filed. One more detail complete. A soft alert from the newly certified sensors heralded the arrival of the USS Malinche, with its inflated brass hot air generator- known to the fleet as Major General Christopher Mitchell.
Watching the holographic sensor display set toward the front of the bridge as the ship approached, Kennit shook her head slightly, then smiled. Just a little.
Turning, she entered her Ready Room and pulled up the comm. She needed to make a report with Admiral Bennett. Now was the perfect time.
Major General Mitchell walked over to the gangway and watched as the two guards brought their rifles up to the position of "Present Arms". Returning their salutes, he made his way up the ramp onto a quarterdeck where he encountered another crewman in a dress uniform who snapped to attention. Today, he was clad in his own service green uniform complete with tie and ribbons above his left breast pocket.
"Permission to come aboard?" Christopher asked as he snapped off another two salutes- one to the Fleet Ensign and another to the crewman.
The crewman returned his salute and dropped it. "Permission granted, sir." Raising a Boatswain's Pipe, he blew three short
Christopher stopped for a moment. "Know where I can find the Captain?" he asked
Checking his watch, the crewman looked back up. "She should be on the bridge for the day shift. Shall I announce your presence, sir?"
Mitchell nodded. "Go ahead." As he walked towards the passageway, he heard the three sharp trills of a Boatswain's Pipe over the intercom and the sound of the Petty Officer's voice.
"Fleet Expeditionary Force- Delta, Arriving!"
Following this was the sound of 16 sharp electronic [i]dings[i/] as he was afforded by protocol. Crossing into a turbolift, he saw two junior officers quickly move aside as he entered.
"Deck One, Bridge." he ordered. The computer beeped and began a short journey upward.
===================== Five Minutes Later =====================
The turbolift slid to a smooth and almost imperceptible stop and the doors slid open silently to reveal the massive bridge. Noticing his presence, a crewman announced him yet again before Christopher had the chance to stop him.
"General on the bridge!" the Senior Enlisted man shouted, eliciting a number of momentary looks from a number of bridge officers who weren't at all surprised to see another Flag Officer on their ship. Christopher waved noncommittally as if to tell them to carry on and moved towards what he assumed was the Captain's Ready Room. However, before he got there, he was stopped by a burly looking Master Chief Petty Officer in security gold with a phaser on his hip. Raising his hand authoritatively, he stopped Christopher in his tracks.
"Sir, the Captain has requested not to be disturbed," he said. "I can't let you through."
Christopher raised an eyebrow. "Listen, Master Chief. I have a scheduled briefing with the Captain, so I'm not going to ask politely. Let me through."
The Master Chief stepped forward, his free hand reaching for his phaser. "I said I can't do that, [i]sir[/i]. Now I'll ask you once to stand aside. " the man said, the tension evident in his voice.
How jaw now firmly clenched, Christopher stepped forward. "Listen, Master Chief. Think about your next move very carefully- I'd hate for you to have to end up in Sickbay and then be sentenced at your court-martial for striking a Flag Officer. Think about that for a moment" he said, an edge evident in his voice. Several officer on watch were now staring and some were whispering amongst themselves about potential outcomes of the confrontation.
The Master Chief didn’t so much as blink. He had his orders, and his Captain’s wrath was far more compelling than the irritation of the officer facing him. “The Captain is in a meeting with Admiral Bennett. You are welcome to pick a seat here on the Bridge and wait until she is finished.”
Fighting the urge to bare his teeth, the General walked over to the temporarily empty Captain's Chair and took a seat, his eyes fixed on the Ready Room doors.
Eight minutes passed before the Captain’s Ready Room doors opened, and Kennit appeared. She was dressed in a standard duty uniform, her rank insignia and comm badge the split black on polished grey of Section 31. Not so much as a hair was out of place as her eyes, the dark color of emerald, swept the bridge and fixed on him. “General Mitchell.” She said, her voice was as calm and smooth as rough silk. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting.” Everything about her was respectful, from her tone of voice to her posture. But her eyes, oh her eyes made no effort to hide the truth glittering there like flame within the depths.
Christopher simply nodded curtly. He could see right through the worn veneer of false respect but fought to maintain his own in the presence of the crew of a junior officer, lest there be any further whispers of a less than professional rapport between him and this ship's Commander. Extending his hand, he motioned for her to head back into the ready room. As the doors slid shut, he stood in front of one of the Ready Room's floor to ceiling windows and watched the stars twinkle as ships jumped in and out of the system.
"You know, it wasn't nine months ago that I was out there in a fighter, engaging the Borg during the Battle of Starbase 900 and the only reason I'm wearing these stars on my shoulder is that some high up in the chain thought I could do the job, so why is it that you're deciding to treat me like some snot-nosed Ensign, Captain?" he asked, his tone measured and even.
“Why are you acting like one General?” She replied as she walked to take a seat at her desk. “And please... don’t throw the Borg at me. It gets old.”
Christopher raised a hand. "And who exactly was the one who ordered a member of their crew to bar me from an intelligence briefing for no better reason than pettiness and spite? So I'm not the one being childish here." he said, his voice turning into more of a growl before he took a breath and continued. "In case you haven't noticed, you report to me. So briefings on recent findings in the Delta Quadrant, especially those that affect the Federation's interests here are kind of my job. Out here, we have to be ten steps ahead of the enemy wherever we can and whatever information you have- no matter how inconsequential is going to be useful. This is especially in true in light of your recent abduction- do you know what it takes to get a full Strategic Response Team pulled and rerouted across the quadrant with less than three hours notice?”
“Take it up with Admiral Harv Bennett. It was his call I was busy with and his orders tHt our conversations be private I followed.” Kennit replied, granted she’d initiated the contact but still. Orders were orders. “As far as the rest...I’ve been though worse. I’ve faced worse. I’m still here. What is it you think I know which I can help you with General?”
Christopher walked over to a chair and took a seat. "While I won't speak of a superior officer, I'm going to request that in the future, you keep me apprised. As far as what I require- Well, everything about your abduction, for starters and the subsequent battle that resulted in the extreme damage to the previous 'Victory'. I noticed that your report to Expeditionary Force Command was rather sparse and I'm here to remedy that so I can get my analysts that we need in case the Terrans decide to deploy this weapon they're working so hard on. Once I have that, I'll be out of your hair. And as an added bonus, you get to keep Taggart." he said with a smile.
She seemed fairly unconcerned by any of this as she shrugged one shoulder. "The abduction... I was in the colony HQ building, and then I was on a Terran starbase, being dragged half-drugged into an agonizer booth. One of their scientists seemed quite interested in just how much pain my implants could block. His mistake. Once my implants had sustained enough of an energy charge, a simple discharge pulse through the tubules in my hand disabled the agonizer booth and.. I showed my appreciation for their hospitality." She sounded as if she was just discussing afternoon tea, not hours of torture.
"Once free of the booth, I access their computer system and began trying to get an idea of where I was. While poking about, I found data which was heavily encrypted. Though I attempted to break their security systems, the battle outside caused system damage which made that harder to accomplish. I was only able to get to basic reports detailing past tests, no direct data on just what they were testing. It was not until the station self-destructed that we were able to gather useful intel. And that.. you are already briefed on."
Christopher nodded, taking in all of the information. "And based on your analysis, I have two questions- When do you think they can deploy the weapon and what resources do you need?" he asked, staring intently at the Captain in front of him.
“Are you kidding me.” She stayed in a flat sort of voice. “It’s a safe bet to assume they have more than one operational unit of that device, just based on their records of past attempts at utilizing it. They are trying to stabilize the protomatter, to create a stable new world unlike Dr. Marcus’ notable failure in the past. The fact that the nebula is still there, and not a new star system with an unstable and highly erratic life span would seem a fairly good indication that they haven't figured it out just yet. That doesn’t mean they can’t use that device to send a very impressive message if they were so inclined. Setting that device off in an uninhabited system would make people notice. Set it off in an inhabited system.. “. Kennit didn’t bother finishing.
She met his gaze, her own expression as empty as the space on the other side of the hull. “I have another concern. Just how the hell did they get the data on Genesis... and make no mistake it is Genesis. From what I have seen after viewing the data provided by Dr. Marcus about her damn device...and what data I was able to access, you have a mole inside Starfleet. Probably quite a few of them. What else have they been able to access? Have you thought of that yet?”
Christopher's eyes widened at how this woman delivered this information with no hint of emotion and wondered about her mental state. It was time to reveal information that, at this point, only about 20 people in the entire quadrant knew about. "Captain, my Intelligence team floated the idea that doppelgangers from the Terran Empire have infiltrated Starfleet in our universe. We don't know how and we don't know why, but this confirms our worst fear- they've gained deep enough access in order to retrieve information about classified technology-" he tapped through a PADD and brought up the image of the terrorist that the Strategic Response Unit had captured.
"Does she look familiar to you?" he asked.
With a glance at the PADD, Kennit rolled her eyes. “Commander Rachel Scott. Low level operative.. failed training.”
Christopher smirked. "Well, according to Captain Forster and Lieutenant Taggart's reports, this 'low-level operative' managed to overpower the ship's security and electronic countermeasures aboard the USS Langley and attempted to steal some supplies and then destroy the ship. They narrowly managed to stop her before she pushed the button- apparently, she was looking for Benamite and Deuterium. Either she was trying to make a very large bomb or she's trying to power something the size of a small city. I'll leave you to figure out which." he said, a hint of sarcasm showing in his voice. Tapping through the report to the HUMINT Findings section, he continued. "Apparently, they were able obtain a sample of her DNA- human with one exception. Her quantum signature is just slightly off and I think you know what that means." Christopher said, placing the PADD back down on a table.
She did. It meant Starfleet was in trouble. No surprise. It also meant he could be here too... and that thought sent a jolt of something through her she couldn’t express. Couldn’t put a name to.. if she found herself facing him.. gazing across space through a viewscreen to John’s face, his voice.. but not him. Not quite...
She didn’t answer, lost in thought.
"This infiltration indicates a metric ton of problems, not all of which we're prepared to deal with. It's like the Changelings all over again." Stopping for a moment, he checked his PADD again and sighed. "Based on what you've told me and your reports, it sounds you're going to need more firepower at your disposal- what do you say?" he asked her.
She didn’t reply right away, finally saying “I think I am completely disinterested in starting a war... the Terrans have been here for quite some time. They are well established and well equipped. We are a long way from regular supply routes, they have the advantage.”
Christopher nodded. “And I definitely wasn’t suggesting that we go in there and hit them over the head, it’s just that Victory is a relatively lightly armed vessel and I figured you might need something in case you get caught in another battle like the one in the asteroid field. It’s either that or I can authorize the use of special weapons. I’m not going to relent until we can guarantee your safety during future missions. I won’t pressure you- just tell me what you need and it’s yours.” He said, gritting his teeth slightly.
“You just told me that they have infiltrated Starfleet, with personnel scattered across Federation space. This isn’t just some territorial squabble. This could be a long term plot moving pieces into place to overthrow the Federation. The first thing I want is for you to not tip our hand and let them know we are alert and aware they have planted agents among us. I don’t have enough information ...neither do you.”
Christopher gritted his teeth again. "Do you take me for some kind of idiot just because I wear green and I have stars on my collar? This isn't my first rodeo- I've been doing this for a long time, as have you. I also see to it that I know more than you about the strategic implications of these situations based on the information you provide, specifically the lack of reinforcements you seem to be reluctant to accept. If these Terrans are as ruthless as you say they are, you need all the help you can get. Now, we can sit here all day talking in circles or you can accept the help I'm extending to you- it's your call. Just don't get turned into space dust- it'd be too much paperwork." he said wryly.
He knows more than she does. Typical arrogant assumption from a desk jockey with a lot of brass on his uniform. This. This right here. Right now. This is why she’d wanted to walk away. Why she knew there was only one way out.
“Fine.” She said in a flat tone. “Since you know more than I do, you tell me. What reinforcement do I need.”
"You're getting two ships of the four that I have free but it's your choice- their officers will fall under your command and it'll come with a bar under those pips for your trouble. I've got a Steamrunner, Rhode Island, Intrepid, and-" stopping for a moment, he found it. "-a Defiant specifically modified for reconnaissance and deep infiltration operations."
She looked at him, her eyes the deep dark green of storm clouds on the horizon, the kind of storms which brewed up tornadoes and hail. From an assessment of his body language, the way he spoke, the inflection he put on his works it was obvious to her which ship the General wished to place out here. “What are the qualifications of the captain and crew of the Defiant class ship?” she asked.
Christopher tapped the PADD. "All of the senior officers and crew are graduates of the Advanced Intelligence Operations Course- about 25 in total along with 10 Strategic Response qualified team members. The CO is an old Lieutenant Colonel from when a ton of Marine officers were allowed to be ship drivers - he actually served under me aboard the USS Decatur as my Chief Intelligence Officer and he was damn good at his job. His people tended to get me information long before I knew I needed it. He's also a lot like you- it'd take a Battalion of Marines to pull him out of that Captain's Chair." he said humorously.
Clearly the General wasn’t aware that she’d intended to retire. Had returned to Earth, not for wave or medical reasons but with the full intention of returning home and staying there. She didn’t correct him. Just said, “Will he follow orders..” Kennit asked.
Mitchell nodded. "Callister's a bit of a bulldog and he knows the score- he'll be loyal to a fault and won't stop until he's told to by you. Much like you, he's not going to let me override your orders."
“I don’t need bulldogs out here. I need officers who know their orders, but who can think on their feet and adapt quickly to the volatility of the situation, which can change faster than you can think the words ‘oh shit’.” the Captain answered.
Christopher chuckled at Rhea's response. It was obvious that no matter what he did, he'd be wrong in her eye and all that was happening now was wasting precious time that they didn't have. Placing the PADD on the desk, he reached into his pocket and placed a small lozenge-shaped jewelry box on top of it. Giving them a push, the two items slid across the table to a smooth stop just before the edge of the desk. "I'm not going to argue, especially if you're willing to cut off your nose to spite your face. It's your mission and your command- the outcome- good or bad is on your shoulders. All I can do is provide the resources for you to either succeed or give you enough rope to hang yourself. Congratulations, [i]Fleet[/i] Captain." He walked towards the door and heard the audible crackle of broken glass as the toe of his shoe smashed a shard into the carpet.
“Fleet Captain?” She echoed in shocked disbelief. “Oh no.. I don’t want this..”
"Oh, and you might want to get that glass cleaned up- it could hurt someone." he said before walking back onto the bridge and proceeding into the turbolift.
Left in the ready room, staring at rank pips she didn’t want.. the turbolift doors closed just in time to prevent the stream of profanity from being overheard on the bridge.
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