Required Discretions

Posted on Thu Apr 2nd, 2009 @ 2:27pm by Captain Elsie Halliwell & Lieutenant Commander Wesley Kemmer & Master Warrant Officer Sam Jackson

1,182 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Wolves in Sheep's Clothing
Location: Chief Intelligence Officer's Office
Timeline: Current

ON:

Commander Lane allowed the personal vie screen to sink into the surface of his desk as the face of his first officer was replaced by the United Federation of Planets logo. A fitting sentiment, he thought, internally wracked with fury. He slammed his clenched fist on to the desktop with frustration, and the glass beaker that held a young, solitary tulip rattled in its saucer, toppled over and crashed to the floor on the other side of the desk, spilling out water as it fell. "Damn that woman," he said.

Despite wanting to get the meetings out of the way, to Kemmer’s good fortune, he found that the counsellor, Ensign Lucy Carter, was busy on the planet’s surface with Arkham and the others of the away team dealing with the negotiations with the Citadel Council. He took this good news as a sign to relax; something that he desperately needed to do since hardly sleeping over the last forty-eight hours, the pain and bouts of insomnia keeping him from visiting the land of nod too much.

Lane stood up from his chair and rounded his desk. Looking upon the soaked carpet as the single tulip lay there, its stem still held tightly by the glass surround, he sighed. Slapping his com badge with an open palm, he cleared his throat.

"Lane to Kemmer. Do you have a moment? I'll meet you in your office, Commander."

Kemmer had just returned to his quarters when the call from the commanding officer came in. “Twice in so little time, Intel doesn’t usually get this much attention� he said to himself before remembering that he was now also the second officer and as such part of the command structure, and activating his com badge to actually put in the reply, “I’ll be there.�

The Trill left his ready room and, as he passed by the bridge, he barked to a young Ensign sat at the helm performing a sensor sweep of orbital debris. "Ensign Orzhov, we're sat up in orbit. Why don’t you do something useful and clear up that mess in my ready room, yeah?"

His tone and blue eyes betrayed his anger (misdirected anger at that) as he entered the turbolift and the doors sealed him within it. The bridge officers on-duty turned to look at one another in amazement and shock. Ensign Orzhov sparked up, slightly, and scowled. "Bloody cheek of him," she said. "How dare he?"

"Sir" Sam paused, fortunate to have run into Commander Lane. Now he didn't have to go see him right away. "I'll need a chat with you later about our little problems."

"Of course, Sam," Lane replied. "Why don't you head on down to the mess and I'll follow you there?"

"I'll see you there sir" Sam replied, he could do with a coffee.

Lane simply nodded and as the doors opened up onto the corridor, he stepped out of the turbolift and headed for his second officer's office. There was always something unwelcoming about the Intelligence office, he thought, but he was in no mood for it today. As he stepped through, he did not even acknowledge the staff that were busy working at the various terminals and desks littered around the room. It seemed, for a moment, that the Trill was surrounded by Intelligence. An Intelligence first officer, an Intelligence second officer, and now a mission adviser, one who outranked him no less, with a background in intelligence. It seemed, to him, that he was overrun with them.

"Lieutenant Commander Kemmer," he said, as he entered his office. "I need to pull in a favour from you. Two, in fact," he said, forcing a grin.

It was nearly always creepy to have you commanding officer coming into your office with a fake grin on his face, and usually meant one of two things; one, that what he was going to say was not really in your best interests, or two, it was but you didn’t necessarily want to hear it – and this had the look of both. “What’s up?�

"Firstly, an altercation down in the Citadel Tower has injured the Commander and closed peace negotiations for the time being.�

“Not too seriously I hope.� Kemmer asked with genuine concern.

“Commander Arkham is fine, just a little wounded." He started with this to get through the official business as quickly as he could. "She is returning to the Arch and I need to replace her presence, if you could?"

“You’re asking me...� Wes said not really believing it. “Commander, I might be your second officer but I’m an Intelligence operative first and foremost, not a diplomat.�

"Well, then, it's a good job that I'm not sending you down there as part of the diplomatic team, then, isn't it?" Taking a more serious tone, he continued. "I need you to just an Archimedical presence. The Nagasaki will lead the diplomatic side to things, I just need you down there to head things up."

Kemmer sighed, knowing that there was no way to get out of the situation that Lane was placing him in; with one officer down, there was no way to tell what was going to go down next. “Alright, if you want to go down and get fragged as well, who am I to argue.�

"Thank you, good man. And, now this is a little more sensitive, Commander: Secondly, I need you to pull up anything you can about a one Captain Alexandra Harwood. Female, mid-thirties, Intelligence background, non-official Federation allegiances. That's all I got, I'm afraid. Make it count. I am sure that you have contacts that can root out some necessary evil with her. I need to find out who this woman is, and why she is coming onboard my ship as 'Mission Advisor'. Make this your priority before you start to prep for the away mission. Am I understood?"

“I might work for Intelligence, but even I have my clearances and boundaries.� Lane gave him a somewhat disappointed but pleading look. “But as ever, I’ve got a few favours I can call... I’ll dig up something, Commander.�

He took the man's arm in his hand and broke his face into a more friendly expression. "And keep this out of your logs for the time being, Wes." He squinted a little to convey the conspiracy.

Kemmer leaned in as if to keep the secret just between him and Lane, “Discretion is my middle name... well actually it’s not but you get the idea. In fact you don’t even want to know what my middle name is, odds are you wouldn’t believe it, and you probably would believe a whole heap of other stuff about me either but I’m afraid that you’re really keeping me doing my work now, so you should toodle off and get on with yours.�

With a faux bemused expression, Lane simply replied, "I thought I was."

OFF:


Commander Coltan Lane
Commanding Officer

AND

Lieutenant Commander Welsey Kemmer
Chief Intelligence Officer

 

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