Staff Meeting (Part 3)

Posted on Tue Jun 27th, 2023 @ 4:44am by Commander M'Mira & Commander Ba'zra Channe & Ensign Connor Turner & Lieutenant Feeva Drylo & Lieutenant Tyler Lockley & Lieutenant JG Kara Quinn-Chaim & Lieutenant JG Dr Roger Harrison Jr. & Ensign Dramin

2,233 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Mission 4 - Like a Thunderbolt
Location: Briefing Room, Command and Control
Timeline: MD06 - 1300

"Please, have a seat, Ensign," Ronan said gesturing to the seat where the Kelpian was hovering nearest. "I take it you're the JAG officer on duty?"

"Yes, sir." Dramin answered. The team that he was part of wasn't that big, really; as such he tended to do much of the work as a junior attorney. "How exactly may we be of assistance?"

"I'd like you to review the Federation's contract with Falta III for the land on which the base was constructed. As I understand it, we have a 100-year lease. My question is -- what, if any, are the conditions under which the contract can be revoked?"

"Several. Frustration by extreme acts of nature, major material breaches of the terms of contract by either party - as a matter of fact the contract itself should contain the means by which it can be revoked. Assuming it was correctly drafted - which it should be." Dramin answered off the top of his head while scrolling through the document on his PADD. "Are the Faltans wanting to rescind the contract and reclaim their land?"

"Falteans," Ronan corrected automatically though, in truth, he'd made the mistake plenty since hearing about this stretch of space. "And yes, I believe that's going to happen. A few days ago, our base was attacked and many people were killed. I need to get back in there, to get samples, to investigate, and to get anything we don't want the Falteans to claim out of there. My question for you is ... can they kick us out? And if so, how long do we have?"

"According to this agreement that you've drawn up with them... for any gross breach of the terms you've agreed on. I'm sure the Faltean government would be more than reasonable if we were full and frank in disclosing why we wish to revisit the facility. As to how long you have, well..." Dramin hummed. "I would defer to the negotiating prowess of a diplomatic party - though in their absence I would advise taking only as much time as is necessary for the time being."

"First," Ronan said, "I didn't draw up the agreement. That was done years ago. Second, we were attacked by someone ranting about the Faltaen cause. I don't intend to beg them for access to our facility. Now, if you say the treaty that Federation lawyers drew up isn't going to stand up, I guess I'm not surprised. So, basically, your advice is to get in and get as quickly as possible?"

M'Mira grumbled audibly, only the word, "Taga," being uttered.

"Yes. For the safety of those involved, and to preserve relations as far as possible." Dramin replied.

"Thank you, Ensign, you're dismissed," Ronan said. "Now, where's our engineering representative? Turner, I think?

Fee had, by now, inched to the Replicator, and a cup of hot Jumja tea appeared. She'd been so quiet that she doubted anyone heard her ask the computer for the order, but she looked in interest at the next person. Another ginger! She wouldn't stand out so much. She lowered her head, though, and scurried to her seat. The Science Officer didn't make eye contact with anyone.

Tyler walked into the briefing room, looking around at the assembled officers. "My apologies for being late Captain. There was a small...situation...that had to be dealt with before I could attend. All dealt with now though." He said, taking a seat at the table.

Ronan frowned in the direction of the Lieutenant but rather than continue down that path, switched to the mission at hand. "We must return to Falta III. The base was abandoned with everything on and running. We need samples of whatever it was that killed our people, any security footage that's available, and most importantly, we need to shut the base down. And we don't have a lot of time. The away team will consist of four people only. First priority are the samples and security footage. Once those are obtained and the first team is back on board, a second team will transport down to show down the base and secure whatever we don't want to fall into eager Faltaen hands."

Tyler nodded slowly. "That would be doable. First away team would likely be myself, our new Investigations Officer, and 2 others, one from medical one from science?" He asked. "That way we have one to analyse and one to assist with any medical opinions, while the Investigations officer gets the security footage, unless you had another idea." He replied.

"No objection, it's the team I would have chosen," Ronan said. "Once Medical and Science to the Minotaur, then Engineering and Operations can go down to help with stripping the base. If you don't have anyone else, you can always take Commander M'Mira. From what I understand, she's a capable Operations officer and she knows the base."

Kara had sat quiet until now. “Captain, I’d like permission to go along? There are files locked away in the Counselling offices that need to be retrieved, when all hell broke loose I didn’t have chance to remove them and bring them with.”

"We're restricted to a four-person team," Ronan said, "and you'll have to move fast. Security, engineering, operations. So, you ..." Ronan pointed at Tyler who had yet to introduce himself, "Turner, if he ever shows up, M'Mira ..." His gaze met Tyler's own. "Would that be acceptable? And ... could you all please introduce yourselves rather than force me to figure it out as I go?"

“Apologies Captain, I’m Kara Quinn-Chaim Chief Counsellor. If I can’t go along I can just as easily tell those going where to find the files. They’re not hard to find if you know where to look.”

The CSO sipped at the calming, hot liquid and then spoke up again. This time, her voice was louder-she was more sure of herself, and especially now that she wasn't going to be undermined by whomever that man was. Bloody idiot. "I think it's fine if Counseling and Medical go after I clear the samples. I stress precautions still, but they should be fine because I doubt it's an airborne thing since the majority of people aren't affected except through direct contact. So, Doctor Harrison-treat it like you might an Earth illness like Ebola. Get in, get out, avoid touching anything unnecessary. And for Prophet's sake, wash your hands!" The petite Redhead sighed.

"That helps," Ronan said. "The second team avoids the area of the explosion as much as possible and gets the sensitive material out and away. The Falteans are coming. We just want to make sure we don't leave anything for them. I am particularly interested in all of the records contained on site ... since I suspect that not everything was reported up chain."

Kara gazed at Ronan. “I can cover Sickbay Sir, I’d imagine the medical records were exported when we left but I can check while I’m there. We can set up a remote link for any remaining records to be sent back here.”

"Good thinking," Ronan said. "We transfer the records and nothing is left for them to find."

Tyler nodded at the question. "Apologies Captain, Tyler Lockley, your Chief of Security. If the Counsellor can give us an idea of where to look for the items they want we can look at bringing them back also. I personally feel preference should be given to Science and Medical." He responded, looking between the CO and the Counsellor.

Kara nodded. “I’ll put the details on a PADD for you, they’re easy to locate.”

A tall gangly man walked into the room. His nose was stuck in his PADD. He was clean-cut and wore old-fashioned glasses. He spoke with a clear British accent. "Um, sorry. I, well, did not know I needed to be here but, um, I guess that I am right now the senior engineer after all, well, that, um, took place." He looked at M'Mira and gave an apologetic shrug before putting his nose in his PADD. "Ensign Connor Turner. Sorry that I errored, sir. It is not normal for me but, well, the station needed assistance and, well, I was, um, handling the propulsion and containment systems. Their computers needed some better security...." He paused and looked at Ronan, then Ba'zra, and then M'Mira before decidedly moving to a chair and sitting down.

M'Mira looked at Ronan, "Therrre you go, Misterrr Turrrnerrr has arrrrrrived and I can definitely vouch for his norrrmal fastidious behaviorrr."

Hopping to Turner's defense did not help Ba'zra's opinion of either. "I swear, Mister Turner, if you are ever late for a staff meeting again, I will personally rip out your heart with my hand and eat it in front of you."

Connor melted into his chair and hoped to hide himself somehow.

Looking over at Ronan, Ba'zra leaned into him and whispered into his ear, "Too much?"

The corner of Ronan's mouth ticked upward slightly as he said, under his breath, "Fearsome as ever but I think you might have given our engineer a heart attack." He turned his attention back to the individual in question, his expression smoothed out and neutral. "We're planning a trip back to Faltan Base," he said, "and we'll need you to join the away team. The base was left fully operational in the retreat, so steps must be taken to ensure that we get everything we can out of there."

"Away team?" Connor asked, nearly as terrified. "I'm, um, well, a computer specialist. Um, I don't, um, usually go on away missions. I, well, I don't think I have ever been on one, in fact.... Do you think, well, maybe there is someone else?"

M'Mira cut in, "The shorrrt answerrr is 'no,' MIsterrr Turrrnerrr. And I will even forrrgive yourrr rrrelationship with Miss Templeton."

"That name sounds familiar," Ronan said. "Why do I ... a reporter? Candy Templeton the FNS Reporter?"

Connor nodded weakly. "It is complicated."

"I trust you know the regulations with respect to divulging anything to a reporter, Mr. Turner," Ronan asked. The unspoken part of the sentence, the consequences of doing so, was sitting beside him.

Connor nodded weakly. "We don't discuss work. And, well, until the last six months or so, I had not seen her for a couple of years. I'd rather not discuss the topic, sir."

M'Mira looked over at Ronan and informed him, "Miss Templeton does what Miss Templeton does. Misterrr Turrrnerr has always perrrforrrmed beyond expectations. I had intended on prrromoting him but...."

Connor turned toward M'Mira, his mouth wide and his eyes bulging.

Fee watched in interest, but interrupted. "Aye, as the Commander said," her words coming out accented, as his own, but more akin to Earth's Irish, though not quite. "We've only got room for four on each team; Computer engineer, eh? Well, that's perfect. You can upload the data to the Station's computers from the Base, then! Yes, perfect," she said, mostly to herself, just as quietly as he'd spoken. "Alright, so to make sure I understand, I will be leading a team with Commander M'Mira here, and Doc Harrison, plus the Counselor?" She just wanted to make sure she had understood.

"Your team is collecting samples, gathering data about the attack, and records from medical and counseling. So, rather than Commander M'Mira," Ronan said as he scrolled through the station's personnel manifest on the console, "let's put Warrant Officer Johnson on your team. He's a security investigator. That will help, I think."

Feeva nodded her understanding. "Understood, sir. I will alert you when we're finished so that the secondary team can come in. PLEASE make it clear that they are to be as quick as possible, and to use all safety precautions. We don't want to, as they say, invite in anything bad."

"The second team is concerned with shutting the base down and, as much as possible rendering it unusable by the Falteans. So, Commander M'Mira will lead since she understands the base better than anyone else, Lieutenant Lockley, because I want security on both teams. Ensign Turner to handle the computer end of things. Am I missing anyone, Baz?"

M'Mira sank down in her seat. Just a year or two ago, she had completely repaired the Base. Now she was being instructed to shut it down. All that work for nothing, she grumbled in her own thoughts.

Ba'zra gave a winning grin to her husband, "I think you have it covered, Captain." That sounds so good for him. Definitely going to have to reward him tonight with several references to that. Let him sail my ship. "I'll make sure that everything is done as you require." She gave both M'Mira and Turner meaningful glances.

Ronan nodded, reserving judgement until he'd seen more of both of them, and turned to Baz. "The mission is yours, Commander," he said. "You know what needs to be done. Get in, get the samples and whatever evidence is left behind. Get the records and anything sensitive we don't want the Falteans to get their hands on and," his voice dropped slightly, "get home safe."

Grinning at her husband, she said, "I would not dream of anything else. Before I leave, I'll handle that other matter that occurred here," she informed Ronan with a small growl.

 

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