Measured Response

Posted on Sun Dec 18th, 2011 @ 2:55pm by Lieutenant Cedric Shepherd & Captain Elsie Halliwell

1,193 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Fishing
Location: USS Ranger, Deck 9, Security Office
Timeline: 10 minutes after "Titans"

"Thank you for coming down, Captain," Shepherd said, rising at her entrance.

Halliwell entered, lingering at the threshold of his office as she surveyed the room and subtly, but not aggressively, rolled her eyes at her chief of security. She narrowed them, boring holes into Shepherd’s as she then uttered, “Do I have to fully explain my orders to you, Cedric, or can you carry out what I need without the obligatory dissection of my current gripes?â€

"You were quite clear," Shepherd replied, concern in his voice. "Pursuant to that, there are things that need to be said, and things you need to consider before this goes further. Please," he indicated the chair across from his desk. "We're going to need a few minutes."

Halliwell’s consternation grew more visible as she inhaled and then shook her head in small pulses of annoyance. At first glance, and without fully understanding Elsie’s overall mannerisms, one could be forgiven for thinking the captain a temperamental tyrant whose sole venture in command was to rule with an iron fist. But the senior officers of late had come to experience a more human side to the woman. Her irks and quirks more a fleeting expression as opposed to an underlying hatred for all who engaged her company.

She threw her hands up in the air in a defeated gesture, plopping down rather ungraciously into the chair opposite as she angled her head towards him.

"Computer, secure this compartment, authorization Shepherd Beta Two."

With a soft warble the computer intoned "Compartment secure."

"Do you know what this is, Captain?" Shepherd asked, placing a small object on the table. It was black and slightly off squarish, maybe a tenth the size of an isolinear chip.

She leant in, almost nonchalantly, and spied the article presented before her. Her right arched eyebrow made for the ceiling again as her mouth narrowed in disinterest. Cedric’s desire for over-security had never manifested itself in such a display before, and his sealing of the room, although understandable from his aspect of a security officer – the chief at that – had piqued Halliwell’s concern. Not that she was about to show her hand to him just yet.

"This is a data transceiver," he said, his voice matter-of-fact but his face grave. "It'll pick up conversation from across a room, and comes complete with data intercept function--it can snatch computer transmission activity in a 10-meter radius or so, and cache it for transmission to a base unit. Comm traffic, replicator activity, whatever. It's a spy toy. And Captain Kendrick replicated five of them just a few minutes after you concluded the meeting that sent the Baden-Powell to investigate the orbital station."

Elsie coughed a surprised, wide eyed expulsion as her entire expression screamed, “Come again?†She subconsciously twisted her neck so that her right ear was clearly facing Cedric and she coupled the movement with a blank expression. “I beg your pardon, Lieutenant? Kendrick is spying on-ship? With these?â€

"I can't say for certain, but there's only one reason to have five of these," he tapped the little rectangle, now a thing of menace well beyond its nondescript appearance. "I've swept my office. There's not one here. And to be honest, there's no real reason for there to be one here anyway. There are half a dozen places better suited to these little shayatin. The Briefing Room, for one, followed by--"

A panicked, almost vexed darkened mask fell across Halliwell’s features as Cedric talked as Elsie then, mid-speech, raised her hand and glared at him. “What are our options, Cedric?â€

Shepherd shrugged and sighed a deep sigh. "In terms of their presence? Few. In and of themselves, these things are legal. They're legal to create, and legal to possess. Typically, even the data capture function isn't a significant issue, since most signals are encrypted in some way. But in the hands of someone with access to the encryption patterns, like a Starfleet officer collecting Starfleet data, these devices mean she can collect a record of every meaningful computer-run transaction on board. Of course, she could demand most of those details anyway, based on her position, but Kendrick's looking like the type who won't ask for anything if she doesn't have to."

Halliwell fell silent for a moment, and broke eye-contact with Cedric. She inhaled slowly and controlledly, staring at the empty space the spartan desk before her afforded. She shook her head and said, more to herself, "Why is she being so sneaky and covert?" Then, looking up, a twinkle sparked up her features. "She either wants to get caught or hankers so much towards her Intel background that she's flexing her muscles in the only way she now can."

She inhaled again for a pause and then, thinking silently, shook her again. "We essentially have three roads now open to us: We ignore it, we confront her, or we underhandedly allow her to realise that we have the upperhand by jamming the signals she's receiving."

"I suspect," replied Shepherd, "that the answer to the 'why' question is what should drive us to select a response. How do you feel about me asking her? I can sit down with Kendrick and ask her why she's bugging the ship. I am the Chief of Security, after all. I can provide her with any information she wants about activity on the ship. By rights, I should be working with her investigation, though she hasn't said word one to me about it. Maybe it's time for me to reach out."

"Reach out?" Halliwell boomed, her eyes widening in utter disbelief at Cedric's seeming sympathy. "She isn't a lost puppy dog drowning in a sea of responsibility. She's a cold, calculated, malicious pen-pusher who has nothing better to do with her time than disrupt my own command."

"Captain, we're all on the same team," chuckled Shepherd, holding his hands up slightly in surrender. It was an almost cheeky response, but he appeared willing to take the risk to try and simmer Elsie down. "Like it or not, we're all Starfleet here."

"She is not the Starfleet that you and I belong to, Lieutenant," Elsie retorted, almost with a scoff. "You'd do well to remember that when dealing with her. Because that, Mr. Shepherd, is exactly what you have just volunteered to do." The captain's eyes narrowed with a think venom that seemed to leak from the edges. She pursed her lips in a defiant expression that she seemed to have no control over. Medusa herself would have hardened to stone at one glance. She leant in and said, "Don't let her get comfortable. I want you under her skin and make her role her as awkward as she is now making ours." Sitting back, she seemed to sneer under the illuminations from the ceiling above. "After all, Lieutenant, we are all Starfleet here. Make sure she knows it."

Shepherd clearly wanted to keep his face, and so pushed no further, giving Halliwell no further excuse to bite it off. "I'll do what I can, Captain," he acquiesced.

 

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