A Challenging Proposition

Posted on 24 Sep 2024 @ 3:38pm by Commodore Harvey Geisler & Lieutenant Commander Camila Di Pasquale

2,985 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Shattered Unity
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: June 20, 2390 || 1900 hours

Harvey sat alone in his ready room. Normally, at this hour, he would elect to be in his cabin with Joey, but there was not a chance he would retire to his quarters until he knew the final results from the screening. He also had an important briefing for the COs of Belvedere to finish preparing for, even though he had little information to go on.

The Commodore rose from his chair and found his way over to the replicator. "Chinese gunpowder tea," he requested from the unit. Before waiting for it to materialize, he entered the nearby restroom in order to splash some water on his face to keep himself alert.

It had been a very long day and while Camila was looking forward to a sonic shower at the very least, she had one more duty to do. She headed to the bridge with a PADD in her hand and a grim expression on her face as she exited the turbolift. She took a moment to check the information on the PADD again, then nodded to the officer on duty as she went to the Ready Room and pressed the chime.

Harvey looked up from the sink as the faucet continued to run. The person who sounded the door could be anyone, but he had a feeing he knew was out there. "Come in!" he called from the head. He turned off the faucet and wiped his face with a towel.

The ombre haired woman gave her uniform a glance and decided it didn't matter. She entered the Ready Room when the doors swished open and heard the Captain, No, the Commodore she reminded herself yet again, in the head. "I would have waited until after my report,, Sir," she said as she headed towards the table.

He returned to the main area, but not before stopping by the replicator to pick up his hot tea. "Oh?" he asked, approaching the nearby table. He then paused, realizing what she had meant. "You mean you found something. Or someone?"

"Someone," she said as she handed him the PADD. On it was the personnel file of one Crewman Th'ril,, a Rigelian Engineer who had been from one of the other ships. "This is the same man responsible for the sacking of Lieutenant Kemm's quarters and it's been verified that it's a clone, Sir."

Harvey didn't realize he'd fallen into a chair until his elbow with the padd collided with the arm rest. "Holy shit," he muttered. Harvey set down the tea and looked at the personnel file. He had so many questions; so much so that he wasn't able to contain them. "Where's the clone now? How... how long has the clone been active? And what about the real Th'ril?"

"It's in the brig, but it isn't expected to last long. It's already starting to degrade on a cellular level, so we aren't likely going to get a chance to question it. All it keeps doing is repeating it's memorized name, rank and Starfleet ID number," Camila said, sounding frustrated. "We think the real Crewman Th'ril, was one of the ones killed during the attack, but the remains are still being scanned."

The Commodore nodded, setting the padd down on the table in order to trade it for the tea. "Any idea why a Paradan clone would be placed among the crew? Any theories?"

"Lieutenant Kemm didn't say other than Th'ril had been acting strange around him since his transfer to the Black Hawk but with strained resources and quarters, not everyone is going to be on their best behavior. It's mission may have been to sabotage one of the other ships, or even ours, Sir."

Harvey leaned back in his chair, exhaling a heavy sigh as he did. "You know, normally, I enjoy a good mystery. My appetite and patience for them, however, was sucked out of the airlock the moment people started dying." After one more sip of the tea, he set the mug down on the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. That's when he looked up at Camila and paused, considering all of the information thus far.

"What's grinding at me is that we have nothing to go on other than a mysterious 'benefactor' destroyed our ships and bases, then calling in starving colonists to raid the remains. Everywhere I turned, every question I asked got met with more questions. I feel like we're ten steps behind," Camila said.

"Only ten?" asked Harvey. His intention for the question was rhetorical, but he quickly freed his left hand and dismissed his phrase with a wave. "Frankly, I couldn't agree more. In fact, I've been giving a lot of thought to what you said during lunch today. You've got something no one else has right now, and that's a lead. How do you really feel about going back undercover?"

"I feel like I might get a deeper inside look now that they trust me, but it's going to be hard. I'm going to have to network beyond the planet that I went to and that means going back," Camila said. "Those people may need the supplies, but their benefactor is killing more people than starvation is."

"Which means you're going to need the freedom and flexibility to do so." Harvey inhaled deeply, held the breath for a moment, and then let it out slowly. "I do not cherish the thought of not having you at Tactical. But right now, you are our greatest hope. What do you need?"

"If I'm going deep, I'm going to need a crew as Francesca, my corsair identity." Camila said. "Two officers from my department cross trained. I'm also going to need supplies; food, medical, parts, probes."

Harvey didn't give the matter a moment of hesitation or second thought. "Done. What I don't want to give you a lot of is time. When we arrive at Gavara tomorrow, there's going to be a lot of traffic. It's an excellent time to disappear."

"Noted," Camila said. "I'm also going to need tools, spare power cells and an industrial replicator, Sir."

"No," Harvey said immediately. "Helping these colonists and refugees is one thing, but we can't risk an industrial replicator falling into the wrong hands."

"You're right," Camila said. "It would also be harder to explain how a corsair got her hands on one. I'd love to have a gelato, though." She said a bit wistfully.

Harvey knew this was a request that he could accommodate. Leaving the padd she gave him on the table, as well as his half-full teacup, the Commodore crossed the room to the replicator. "Funny," he remarked as he waited on the replicator. "One of our first real conversations involved you, a violin, a promotion, and gelato. And now, here I am, about to send you off on a half-baked assignment and sealing the deal with gelato."

She looked up at him with a bit of amazement. "That seems like a long time ago now, Commodore," she said. "It never got easier, but I'll take the simple things when I can. Thank you."

He returned to the table with the clear bowl and invited her to sit. "We might have walked and ate last time, but you may as well sit for this one." To aid his suggestion, Harvey sat in his seat and placed the bowl across from him in front of the other chair. "Even if you had an industrial replicator, what would you do with it? There's not many places aboard a runabout to stow raw materials."

Camila sat down across from him and accepted the bowl. She toyed with the spoon for a moment while she thought about his question before she took a bite. "I hadn't really thought about it. I was planning to use the transporter buffer to hold most of what I want to take as it is."

"I know you held a lot of probes in that buffer," Harvey remarked, picking his beverage back up for a sip. "It might be worth installing an auxiliary generator to strengthen that buffer."

"I'd like to know what Ensign Khan did when that Intrepid class that got scuttled in the other universe." Camila admitted. "She linked a chain of transporters, but never did a full report that I saw." She took another bite of her gelato. "Not that I have a string of them."

"You're the Chief of Security," Harvey suggested. "At least for just a little while longer. You've got some time to pull that report and take a look before I have to terminate your security clearance. Besides, I'm sure our new Chief Engineer could help you cook up some wild configurations with that runabout of yours."

"I'll get with him and ask if there's time," Camila said. "As for me being the Chief for now, I'd like to recommend putting Ensign Mitchell in as the interim Chief of Security in my absence."

He sat for a moment, considering the recommendation. "Mitchell over Karn?" he asked.

"Ensign Karn was put on report for letting the pirates go with the supplies they had taken from the Gaitithe and Ensign Mitchell reported him," Camila said. "I've had Ensign Mitchell as my Acting Assistant Chief many times in the past few years. She's been a constant presence in Security."

"I know Mitchell well," Harvey said. "Though that is to say, I know of her reputation. If you say she's up for the job, then I will listen. As for you, well, officially you'll be sent back to Gamma Command for assignment. Can't have anyone thinking Camila Di Pasquale is out lurking in the background out here."

"While she does that, Francisca Massara will once again take out Flotsam to continue her merry path as a modern day Robin Hood." Camila sighed. "I'd be lying if I didn't say that I empathized with those poor colonists, but I'll endeavor to bury that and find out who is behind these attacks."

The Commodore nodded, his gestures sincere. "And once we find out who they are and can contain them, then we can work on getting these colonists the supplies they need. Even if that means we ourselves resort to some piracy of our own."

"It wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Camila asked with a sly grin. "Although we call it logistics and Yeoman make mistakes when getting lists to Operations in a timely manner with any degree of accuracy. I swear, Harvey, you really need a better one."

A chuckle morphed quickly into a guffaw. "Don't let Mila hear you say that. If there's one woman I fear more than you, it's her. At least I know that neither of you would phaser me in here."

Camila gave him a look as she remembered being taken over the by the Dolmoqour and the fact that she's the one that surrendered the away team to them. . "Are you sure about that?"

Harvey considered amending his statement to add the word voluntarily, but perhaps it was best left unsaid. "So, Francisca, what else do you need to steal from the Black Hawk? And, how much time do you need to prepare and get back out there?"

"Two and a half days, minimum," she said as she took the PADD and began to put a list together on it. It would surely tax the transporter buffer, and almost all the available room in the runabout that wasn't slotted for her and the two personnel she would take up. "I need to get with Lieutenant Frex, then it'll be a two day trip back to the colony and after that....I have no idea. These pirates or whoever they are aren't leaving clues and a fed mouth doesn't like saying who is feeding it."

He knew they needed answers as soon as they could get them. Harvey recognized, however, that their best chance was with Camila and it would take as long as it could possibly take. "Fair enough. We won't worry about regular check-ins or anything of that sort. But locate an unused frequency and share it with Mila. I'll have her monitor it for whenever you need to send a message. In the meantime, select your crew and get started."

"Yes, Sir," Camila responded, a shiver going up her spine as the weight of the mission dropped on her shoulders. She would have no support, no backup and no way of knowing if her ship and crew would be safe in her absence. "I'll do my best to find out who is behind this."

"If it gets to be too dangerous out there," Harvey cautioned, "I expect you to pull the plug immediately. You and your crew get the hell out of there right away and we'll figure something else out. You're our best option, but not our only option."

"I won't willingly put us in danger, Commodore," she assured him. "Being out here is dangerous enough as we've seen time and again, no matter what preparations we take."

Truer words had never been spoken. Well, there more than likely were, but there was no reason to suggest a debate on the subject. "Then get some rest for tonight and hit it hard tomorrow. Do you want to brief Ensign Mitchell, or shall I?"

"You should, Sir," Camila said after a moment of thought. "With me being sent to Gamma Command for assignment, I likely won't have time." It was her cover story for leaving the ship, so she went with it.

Harvey nodded. "All right. I'll have her meet with me first thing in the morning. With the hour being late and us arriving tomorrow at Gavara, I don't want to introduce more instability aboard the ship than we already have."

"Understood, Commodore. I'll go see Lieutenant Frex now, then try to get some rest." She said, even thought she knew it wasn't likely to happen. "I'll need to have the nacelle on the Kwando reconfigured, too. That's how I get in touch with the colonists."

"Whatever you need," Harvey confirmed. "Customize the runabout however you see fit before you leave." He paused for a second and then suggested, "I know you were thinking about just taking a couple members of security, but any chance you have room for an analyst? Or someone within security who can think like one?"

"There's a Zakdorn Petty Officer analyst in Intelligence as well as a Trill analyst who has a minor in Threat Assessment," Camila said after a moment of thought. So many people had came, gone and passed on in her time on the now multiple versions of the Black Hawk that it required time to sort out who was onboard versus the memory of one.

"Your choice," Harvey said. "Though I'm pretty sure Joey's fond of the Zakdorn. I like to think he keeps her in check down in the Intel office."

"Then I'll take Ensign," she glanced at the PADD and personnel roster. "Tetnel. The runabout is going to be packed."

"I wish I had a bigger ship," Harvey remarked. "But it really is the best we can do at the moment." He paused and sighed, taking a moment to see if there were any other items they needed to discuss. "Anything we've missed? Or anything else on your mind?"

Camila shook her head and sighed as she pushed the gelato aside. "The people responsible for these attacks. Why haven't we gotten a single clue as to who they are and what they're goal is? How do they attack so fast and decisively? It's like they know us, damnit!"

The Commodore did not have the answers to her questions, nor did he know how to de-escalate her tone. He instead answered simply, "I agree that it certainly feels like they know Starfleet. Their attacks are surgical and deliberate. There has to be something we're missing, even in what little information we have. But that's also why we're sending you back into the field. Someone has an axe to grind, and there's no way they're going to stay in the shadows for long."

"I'm going to find them and that axe, Commodore," Camila said as she came to her feet. "If it's the last thing I do."

"All I ask is that you do your best," Harvey pressed back. "And that you come back alive."

"Do me a favor and do the same for me. I won't be here to protect you," the Security Chief said and meant every word.

Harvey only smiled in response. Mentally, her words struck hard. How many times had he faced death now in this quadrant? One would argue that it was too many, but then again... Harvey never knew when to quit. He rose from his seat and extended a hand. "Good luck out there, Francisca."

Camila gave a lopsided grin and shook his hand. "Take care of yourself, Joey and the twins, too, Harvey. I'll see you when I return."

He kept his smile as he held his grip for a second longer. "You better get going. Otherwise I might change my mind."

Camila released him with a smile, then turned and left without another word. She had a lot of work to do in a short time to do it and she would have very little support along the way. All she could do was hold onto hope.

Left alone in the Ready Room, Harvey stared at the closed door for a few moments. This was certainly a gambit, one that had a lot of potential for loss and gain. Harvey could only hope two things. First, that Camila would make it back home.

And second, that her not being here to protect him and the Black Hawk wouldn't backfire in his face.

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