ASSIGNED TO TASK FORCE 37 OF PEGASUS FLEET
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Call to Meeting

Posted on Fri Jul 26th, 2019 @ 5:40pm by Captain Abigail Laurens & Commander Ichiko Gail & Lieutenant Commander William Rogers & Lieutenant Commander William Gunnison & Lieutenant Alexis Aenera & Lieutenant Jack Carver & Captain Amanda Foxwell & Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov & Master Chief Petty Officer Hans-Peter König & Lieutenant Commander Calvin Morgan
Edited on on Fri Jul 26th, 2019 @ 5:58pm

Mission: War and Peacekeeping
Location: Conference Room

A touch of decor always set the tone proper. Ichiko felt like she was hosting a party as opposed to a meeting, so she acted accordingly. Plates were set out with simple cookies, and equally spaced out were water pitchers and cups for tea. Coffee would be available in a single carafe, clearly marked differently.

At the centerpiece of the meeting room table would be a little piece of simple decor. Pointless, except for what it added to the room: A simple wide bowl full of smooth river stones of various compositions and colors. Some had bands in them, others were a smooth single color.

Content with her task and the feel of the room, Ichiko gave her comm badge a gentle tap, "Ichiko to all senior staff. Report to the primary conference room."

A final tap, and a final comm directly to the Captain, "Abigail, ma'am. The room is ready for your arrival." and Ichiko took a seat at the chair to the right of the head of the table.

Abigail had been at most a few dozen feet from the conference room when the call came over her comm. Rather than responding in kind, she opted instead to just walk into the room, glancing around. "Well," she said quietly. "You definitely went all out Commander, it looks like you're hosting a dinner party rather than our impending doom," She cast a chagrined smile at her first officer and moved to the replicator, ordering herself a large mug of chai latte, this time going all out and adding a vanilla flavor shot.

Wrapping her hands around the mug and drawing strength from it's warmth. "You know, I finally understand why so many Commanding Officers carry around hip flasks," she said with a soft laugh. "They've been dealing with this kind of rubbish for years. Less than a week in and I'm already ready to add a good belt of irish to my chai."

"When this is over, I'll see about introducing you to some Ts'usu cuisine." a pause, and then the rabbitess gave a smirk, "And I'll fill you in on what you don't remember the next morning."

"Unfortunately, replicating Ts'usu rice wine somewhat affects the experience. Though, I'm certain you'll be fine." another pause, "And thank you. In our society, we bring a piece of Ts'usu with us when we travel. It helps morale and bolsters the defense of the ship. Since, in essence, the ship becomes an extension of home."

She motioned to the river stones. "A simple simulation of a piece of home, but it adds to the room nicely. Plus, if you have to silence someone from across the room, they're perfect for throwing." she said, pouring herself a cup of tea. "But, you would never..."

Aleksi stared up, blinking a few times. He hadn't recalled falling asleep, perhaps he didn't, but either way he couldn't recall the past minutes. Taking the unlit cigarette he tossed it into the trash before heading to the upper decks with a purpose, his easy smile nowhere to be found. In his brief trance he did more than successfully aid the destruction of his body, but had also come up with some possible theories.

Taking a detour into his quarters, changing into a fresh uniform and gargling a mouthful of listerine, he entered the briefing room with a sausage kolache in hand. He was exhausted, his face said as much. Taking a seat he gave the top officers a weak grin, "Good afternoon ladies."

After Aleksi swaggered in Jack. He gave Ichiko and Abigail a bow with a grin, gave Aleksi a tip of an imagined hat and flashed a smile. He found a seat and spun the chair around before flopping into it, looking around.

"Nice decoration. Reminds me of zen gardens on Earth. Is that for when we misbehave?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

Ichiko gave Aleksi a nod as he entered, and kept it up while he greeted them. "Good welcome. Help yourself, we'll begin when everyone arrives." though to Jack's entrance the rabbitess gave a nod of her own. To his question she gave a smirk, "Never. It's poor taste to beat miscreants to death with the decorations."

"Thank you, though. It's tradition back home to bring a piece of home with us. This was the best I could think of that wouldn't potentially offend."

Throwing on his lab coat as he walked through the door, Calvin glanced about and gave a smile to all already there. "Oh," he said, his eyes zeroing in on the caffeine. He stepped over to the carafe to pour himself a cup. After pouring it and giving it a good smell, he walked over to the table, sitting down next to Aleksi.

It was not long after that Bill followed the doctor into the meeting. He nodded to the assembled officers as he made his way to an empty seat next to Calvin. "It someone's birthday?" He asked with a smile, gesturing to the cookies.

"Statistically, it has to be." Ichiko answered with a smirk, "But, I provided the cookies as something of an ice breaker. Plus if it helps maintain a calm composure, they may become a common occurrence pre-meeting." she offered a glance to Abigail, to see if the captain approved or not of the concept.

"Is bringing cake to work on your birthday still a thing?" Bill asked glancing about the room. "The DTI didn't allow that sort of...you know."

"That's entirely the Captain's call." Ichiko mentioned, taking a sip of her tea, "Back in the Ts'usu Navy, everyone on board any given ship celebrated the Shipmaster's birthday as something of a communal birthday, though on everyone's actual birthday, their duty shift was two hours shorter to give them some extra time for their day."

"So, cake on your day if you want it, but everyone gets cake on the Captain's birthday." a pause, "Which was when?" a slide glance to Abigail...

"I haven't decided yet," Abigail replied with a quick smile.

Bert ambled in looking a bit lost in thought. After a few moments he dug a stylus out of the curls behind his left ear and seemed satisfied as he sunk into a chair.

Hans absent mindedly walked into the room, his spanner was sticking out of his pocket and he was reading the engine statistics on his PADD. Everything was running fine, but he didn't want fine he wanted better. Based on his calculations he believed a minor adjustment of the neutron flow could yield an extra .5 to the warp speed. While lost in thought he found a corner of the room to continue studying the puzzle at hand.

Will Gunnison walked into the room, then stopped and took a look at the plates of cookies spread throughout the room. He wondered for a moment if he'd accidentally walked in on an activity being put on by the ship's school before noticing other members of the senior staff in the room. Well, if he'd walked into a school activity, at least he wasn't the only one, though he also thought he heard a couple of passing references to cake. Wondering just what he'd signed on for when he'd accepted this assignment, he went and took a seat.

When the call had come for a senior staff meeting, Alexis had been in the shower. Right in the middle of conditioning her hair. The curses that someone in her quarters would have heard clearly would have blistered paint. And that's how she'd ended up being... She glanced around, maybe the last one to arrive? Her hair was still damp, but she still made sure her uniform was on perfectly and opted to tie her hair back in a ponytail to try to minimize the horror. She muttered a general greeting before grabbing a cup and helping herself to coffee from the carafe and snagging two cookies, then doubled back and grabbed another pair of cookies. This was going to be one of those days. She slid into a chair that was still alone without anyone as neighbors before dipping a cookie in the coffee and nibbling on it.

"If you can all grab a seat, we'll get started. Time is short, we have a lot to cover and I'd like to get it done quickly." Abigail said as she sank into her own chair at the head of the table. She wasn't going to remain standing, she wasn't going to preach to them, as always she wanted this exchange to leave them all on as equal ground as possible.

"As some of you are already aware, our orders have been changed. The Zendaya has suffered a catastrophic systems failure that has seen them left dead in space. They are waiting on a repair freighter to meet with them to bring parts and additional engineers to either help fix the ship or tow them back to the station." Abigail paused, taking a quick sip of her chai latte. "We now have to rendezvous with the Zendaya, retrieve the rest of the Trions and continue through to Trion 8, with BOTH parties on the ship."

"We plan to drop Astraea out of warp near the rendezvous coordinates in order for me to launch with six fighters loaded with heavy weapons to fly CAP for Astraea. Do note that my ships can do warp four, four-point-five in an emergency." Jack added.

Amanda walked into the briefing room at this point. Looking around she realised the briefing had already begun, unsurprisingly. She hadn't received the advisory of the meeting until five minutes before, having been trying to get in as much training as possible before anything happened. "My apologies for being late, everyone, I only seem to be getting notifications through to my main console, and not my PADD." She looked across at the engineer, Lieutenant Tudor. "Lieutenant, could you have a look and see if you can fix the problem with the PADD?" She asked, sliding the device across to him.



She nodded her appreciation to the Lieutenant and took her designated seat, looking at the CO and XO. "Apologies again for being late, Sir, Ma'am." She got out another PADD, ready to take notes.

Aleksi pulled out his PADD, tapping out a few commands causing the lights to dim and a hologram of a tanned man wearing military style fatigues to appear at the center of the table, “Ladies and gentlemen meet Generalísimo Vicente Bolivar, real name Vicente Vega, leader of the Trion Liberation Front, TLF, and owner of the best head of hair in the quadrant. He was one of the TLF’s original members, leading a pioneer troop revolt roughly five years ago. Three years ago he took the reigns of the movement, we suspect a coup though we can’t be entirely certain, and turned what had been simmering unrest to a full on civil war. They’re fighting for the traditional things most revolutionaries do, liberté, égalité, fraternité.”

“This is the sort of man who will share a drink with you, all warmth and smiles, and will kill you the moment your glass is empty with no hesitation,” The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him. he sipped his tea, looking at the others for a brief moment before continuing, “According to Fleet psychologists and first hand accounts the man is charming and awe inspiring, the cadre he has around him worship him as if he was the second coming. It’s likely something he believes himself, taking on the name Bolivar to show at least a spiritual, if not physical, connection with the famous 19th century liberator of the South American peoples.”

“Utterly ruthless, he will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Assassinations, bombings, poisoning food supplies, you name the asymmetric tactic and his people have likely done it. Your classic sociopath with a cause, exercise extreme caution around him and his entourage, most of them are veterans in a career where most don’t survive six months,” As much as he was disgusted, part of him had to admire the man’s skills.

The hologram flickered briefly, showing an Ambassador-Class Vessel, “This is the Zendaya. What reports we have received are spotty at best, claiming some sort catastrophic malfunction. That much is true, the main power relay to the warp navigation sensor burning out and a further failure of the cooling systems for the following systems,” There were red dots as Aleksi rattled off the list, “Weapons, long range sensors, turbolifts, propulsion, transporters, and the main shuttlebay doors. Life support and replicators still remain operational. This is where the knowns end and the theories begin.”

Pushing himself out of the chair he began circling the table, “The engineers claim it was an accident, security backing them claiming there was no way the TLF delegates could get a bomb on board. I’m sure they want to believe that since they can’t find the real cause nor do they want to show their ass. Without being on the ground there are a few theories, the most likely of which are some combination of computer virus and a heat source to burn out the main relay. A thermite ignition would bypass most sensors, only reading as an intense fire,” He stopped behind Ichiko, looking at the senior staff who were mostly framed between her ears, “While this could be the work of the government forces, that’s the least likely option. If they wanted to kill the delegates why not blow up the ship? What’s the lives of a few Federation Officers when it comes to victory? And they aren’t particularly subtle.”

Stealing a cookie from Abigail’s plate he started moving again, “Knowing the team on board that ship, they’re the ones who likely did it. They knew they were going to get picked up by us, forcing them and their mortal enemies together, and really they are the better killers between the two. That brings us to the final thing I’d like to discuss, insurgency warfare,” There was another flicker, the Ambassador now replaced by an Akira, “Now I suspect they’ll want to avoid antagonizing us any more than they have to, so any direct attacks on us shouldn’t be much of a concern. Though your concern should grow the closer you are to the government delegates.”

Stopping at the end of the table he motioned to the model, “You’ll see there are red lines in the model, a shit ton of them, those are all the Jefferies Tube routes that either party could use to get to the other delegates’ quarters, do what they need to do, and return home,” Another hand motion highlighted a few corridors in yellow, “These are the areas that the delegates will spend most of their time traversing, vents can hide explosives or some toxic gas. Bombs aren’t terribly hard to make and people occasionally kill themselves by accidentally creating poison gas. Ambushes are unlikely but possible so it’s best to have them walking the same halls.”

“Of course,” Setting both palms on the table his gaze swept the table, “Those are all the obvious routes of the attack, let’s remember that these folks have been at this game longer than any of us, maybe except for the Chief. This isn’t Trion, they aren’t going to win any points for killing the Oligarch and cronies on a Fleet vessel. If there is an attack it will be subtle, poison in a glass or some sort of accident. Even something as simple as stealing information to get an edge. My advice is this: keep your eyes open, if you see something say something, limit your alcohol consumption around both parties, watch what you say to anyone who isn’t wearing a Federation uniform, and remember that you are nowhere near as smart as you think you are.”

Standing up he brought down the hologram, the lights returning to normal. Sneaking another cookie off Foxwell’s plate he smiled, the first time the whole meeting, “Any questions?”

Lexi raised a tentative hand, "Can we just lock them in their quarters for the duration of the trip back to Trion? I know it isn't really proper, but it would prevent an all out war on board, wouldn't it?"

"We could but there are issues. For one the ruling government wants to join the Federation and locking them in cages would sour that desire. Second the most dangerous animal is the one locked in a cage which could turn a small problem into a potentially bigger one. They took down a whole ship, what's a couple of door locks and security personnel?" Aleksi also had personal experience with being locked for the protection of others, not something he particularly enjoyed. He nodded Abigail, "Though ultimately that is the boss's choice."

"Lieutenant Matashi had recommended that perhaps we could fit out a cargo bay and house the Infidels in a cargo bay away from their counterparts..." Abigail sighed softly. "I suspect that isn't going to fly well either. If we do that we're likely to be accused of favoritism. It seems like no matter which way we go in this situation, we're damned if we do and we're damned if we don't. So, if anyone has a brilliant idea on how we can resolve this, short of putting each faction in shuttle craft, surrounding them by fighters and taking them home that way."

"Here's a bit of an odd idea," Will Gunnison asked. "Is there any way to bring the holodeck into use on this? What I mean is use one of the ship's holodecks to recreate the inside of the Astraea, and beam them directly into the holodeck, specifically a holographic version of the transporter. Once they're in there, make it so that wherever they go, they're always on the holodeck. I might suggest using Holodeck 5 on Deck 13, which will keep them as far away from the VIP quarters on Deck 2 as possible."

"Problem with that is, if they found out - and there's always a risk - that we've basically lied to them, that would ruin any hope of a productive political agreement between the Federation and that party." Jack mused, steepling his fingers, lazily swiveling from left to right and back again on his swivel chair.

"Have we considered explaining the situation and going with the higher security thing? Also, ship's computer should be able to monitor the jefferies tubes for lifesigns, right? Can we place force fields in them to lock them down? Should be something like that, after all, they can be closed off in case of decompression to prevent one leak from emptying the entire ship of air." the CAG suggested.

"Why not just place them all in the same room?" Ichiko asked. "Grand quarters, certainly. Security for the protection of all, of course."

"To answer Lt. Carver, that would assume that they'd ever find out in the first place," Will Gunnison said, "and even if they did, what is Mr. Boliviar's group going to have as a basis for complaint, really? That we gave them a safe ride home in nice accommodations that were still probably a lot better than they've had for a long time, if ever? Even in a worst-case scenario, we can tell Mr. Bolivar's group - because you can believe that the government representatives currently on board wouldn't have any reason to complain about that setup - that we had 'concerns' for their safety after what we believed was a terrorist attack on board the Zendaya, and who can argue with that?

"And if what happened on board the Zendaya wasn't an accident, then odds are that members of Mr. Bolivar's group are the ones directly responsible for that. By putting them on the holodeck, then we've successfully contained them to a single easily-guarded room that would keep them well away from any vital systems. Yes, we'd still have to put in place certain security features, such as locking the holodeck doors and disabling voice commands to the computer from within the holodeck, just to prevent anyone from accidentally telling the computer to shut off the simulation, but I think it would be easier than putting in the amount of security features that it would take to stop them from pulling off a terrorist attack here. Remember, the Zendaya undoubtedly had a variety of security features in place, too, and look what happened there.

"Though I am tempted to go with Cmdr. Gail's suggestion. Putting them all in the same room would certainly eliminate any accusations of preferential treatment, and they'd be so busy suspiciously watching each other for any signs of dubious actions that it seems they'd practically do half of our job for us as far as security concerns went."

Jack shook his head. "He's a politician. He's not interested in what's fair or our intentions, he's interested in spinning anything that happens towards his purposes. And if we lock him in a holodeck simulation without telling him because Zendaya might have been sabotaged - an assumption I agree with, by the way - we'll have indirectly accused him of being a terrorist without due evidence, decided to confine him in a prison cell without due process and shown his opposition preferential treatment."

"Yes, he'll be comfortable, but a gilded cage is still a cage." Jack continued. "He's a politician, by definition a snake interested only in promoting his own cause. Yes, chances are he might not find out, but do you really want to run that risk? If his side really is guilty of sabotaging the Zendaya then he has savvy people with a good working understanding of Federation technology."

"Apparently we've forgotten both my statement of overestimating our intelligence and underestimating theirs," Aleksi wasn't really amused by the description of the running theory as an assumption, but had to admit it really was that until he could do his own leg work. Still, it was certainly better than even that this was no accident, "Carver is right, a cage is still a cage and until you've been locked up in one it's really hard to appreciate that. And to answer who can argue with that, one side of a negotiation delegation that can seriously bite us in the ass if we aren't careful."

"The other thing it appears few of us have considered is what if the rebels win this conflict? Telling them upfront they're terrorists and treating like prisoners will compromise any future working relationship. At best we'll have a a state that wishes no good reason to play nice with us, at worst they'll start trying to spread the revolution and believe me, there are a few Federation colonies that simply need the spark," He took his seat again, not wanting to be the most visible things while people threw out the most typical of Starfleet answers, "And what we know of this group, the revolution option seems most likely. So unless you're ready for large scale insurgency I'd suggest putting aside the prison idea."

"Why not keep them engaged in bullshit diplomacy activities? If they're constantly being interacted with then they're also being monitored without too much suspicion and if they can't make it we can assume they're up to something. I know it isn't high tech, but sometimes the old ways are the best. We can even rotate shifts if needed, I've always loved a decent party," Aleksi poured himself more tea, "By the way ma'am, this is fantastic. I have to know what type of tea this is."

"I feel like we're making this more complicated than it needs to be." Bill drained the last of his coffee. "We don't want to put either sides back out, and we dont want them to kill each other. Keep 'em separated; treat 'em the same; see something, say something; and trust security and intelligence to get to the bottom of things in time to head them off at the path."

A tip of her tea cup towards Bill. "I'm inclined to agree. They're our guests, despite being horrible guests. I'd just as soon state not to put our guests in an obvious confinement." a sip, "We should also consider, as stated, that either of these factions will be in charge of the governing body of the Trion 8 when the proverbial dust settles."

"Keep them separate, keep them observed..." a pause, and a nod to Aleksi, "And falsify the records of where each party is being kept, so that should any of our guests get curious, instead of an unsuspecting guest, they run into a security detail?" she inquired. Brushing aside the insult of her not being as intelligent as she thought she was, she actually welcomed the counsel of others.

Well, now anyway. Federation cloak and dagger was so much different than the cloak and dagger back home.

"No, Starfleet has a standing policy of respect. If we can treat the Tal Shiar with a level of dignity we can do the same for the Trions. The official delegates are quartered on Deck two. Without having them all on the same deck, the next most likely accommodations for the infidels is going to be deck three." Abigail paused, taking a sip of her drink.

"Lieutenant Matashi, work with Captain Foxwell, engage Marines for extra manpower to ensure security is fully covered at all times. Lieutenant Voroshilov, I want you to work with both security and engineering, see what we can do to eliminate as many concerns as possible before we get them on the ship. They will come aboard by transporters, make sure our transporters are programmed to look for anything and everything that may be a threat to this ship and our crew." Abigail paused again, her fingers tightening around her mug.

"All key areas should be off limits. We're going to want to add security to both the lounge and the mess. Master Chief König, can you speak with Ms Zachariah and Mr Maarg about that? They don't need to know everything, but give them enough so that they know to be prepared. We will remain friendly, hospitable and impartial, but we're going to make damn sure we're prepared." Abigail set her mug down on the table and looked around at the gathering of crew. "Questions?"

Amanda didn't have any questions, and nodded to acknowledge what the CO had said. She looked across at Alanah and smiled. She hoped they'd work well together.

König gave a silent, curt nod. The lounge was going to be easy. As Lieutenant Voroshilov had said, the parties involved get no points with the Federation for lacking subtlety. Killing someone in a bar---even by poison---would not be subtle. The biggest problem there would likely be spurious barfights and a Klingon chef is probably all the security one would need against that. He would let the bartenders know about the precautions in broad-terms.

He made a mental note, however, to go back and look at that network of Jeffries tubes. König wasn't sure he knew how to fight terrorists but Starfleet had spent a lot of time and resources on teaching him how to be a terrorist. A few thought-exercises in how he would go about killing one delegation or the other might be enlightening.

Hans listened intently and took notes on his Padd, the puzzle set forth by the Captain definitely peaked his interest, disabling everything but life systems was nearly impossible on an Ambassador class Starship. Speaking up from the corner of the room Hans asked,”Captain, do you happen to know which decks were damaged in the initial explosion?”

The whole scenario sounded fishy to Hans and he definitely wanted to understand how this could have happened. As an engineer he took it personally when a ship was rendered unusable, in his opinion either a rouge engineer was aboard the Zendaya or the ships classified blueprints were leaked, either way many more lives could be in danger.

Aleksi looked over to Hans, raising an eyebrow, "There was no explosion as far as we know. Overheating of systems and an isolated fire which I agree is suspicious," He popped another cookie in his mouth, wondering where the engineer had been during his brief, "The fire happened on Deck 13 according to the reports, which matches the schematics we have on file. I could go over that portion of the brief again if you'd like."

“My apologies,” Hans said quietly, “I missed that part, I guess.” Hans looked over his Padd once more feeling stupid, so a fire on deck 13 killed all of the ship systems. It didn’t make any sense.

Abigail cast a fleeting look of annoyance at Aleksi and shook her head slightly. "End of the day, we don't know what happened for sure. All we officially know is that the Zendaya suffered a catastrophic systems failure and now we're picking up the slack." There was a hint of annoyance in her voice as she glanced between Aleksi and Hans.

Aleksi was used to the stare by now, happy that it didn't have the undertone of hatred he had seen in others. He had but a decent amount of work into the brief she had asked for, so he wasn't going to apologize for his snarky reply. Sipping his tea he smiled politely at the Captain, "I have my marching orders ma'am. I'll see to it they'll be executed."

"Thank you," Abigail said quietly with a nod. "You all know what we're doing. Dismissed." Sitting in silence and watching as the senior staff left the briefing room, Abigail remained in her seat for a few more minutes, just contemplating over everything that had changed. Finally, standing up, she cleared away what remained on the large conference table, leaving Commander Gail's decorations in place. She had a feeling they'd be back there soon enough.

 

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