Investigations

Posted on Wed Aug 8, 2018 @ 12:21am by Master Chief Petty Officer Thomas Barnes & Commodore Michael Aravan

Mission: Falling Star
Location: Ready Room
Timeline: MD 34 || 1400 Hours

Captain's Log Stardate 70017.783
We are currently in orbit around Cassandara and I have just spoken to the Romulan Governor about the unexpected betrayal of Ambassador Caenala. It seems odd to both of us that she would openly send the messages that she did via the comm center, encrypted or not. She knew that we were monitoring her and her subsequent actions also make little sense. There was little hope that she could have pulled off the attack on the capital or held off the Triumphant in a one on one fight.

I have been reviewing every log and note made about her since her first contact with the Federation but have not found anything which gives credit to my suspicions. An analysis of the debris from her ship was also inconclusive but the Romulans promised a more detailed one later. I have doubts that the Governor will share all of his findings with me, but the past distrust between the Romulans and the Federation is not that far in the past.

End log.

Michael got up from his desk and cleared it of the research he had been doing and opened a comm. "Master Chief Barnes, report to my ready room," he ordered before he closed the channel. The Commodore walked over to the coffee which he had brewed earlier and poured a cup while he waited for his Operations Chief to arrive.

The day had been quite busy for Tom indeed, especially since he got caught in a mystery he didn't think he'd be a part of. And just when he'd taken a break from his special assignments to take a look at his regular paperwork, the summons to the Ready Room arrived. He opened his mouth to reply, but the channel had closed just as abruptly as it had arrived. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, rising from his desk, grabbing a padd filled with notes and headed off to find a turbolift.

Minutes later, Tom emerged on the command level and approached the ready room door, tapping the chime to await entry. Though he knew this would last just a few seconds, those seconds felt like an eternity.

"Come," Michael called out from the other side as he went back to the table again.

The doors parted with their trademark swoosh, allowing the Master Chief to enter the Commodore's chambers. "You wished to see me, Commodore?" he asked.

"Coffee, Chief?" The Commodore asked as he indicated the nearly full pot. "I need a few minutes of your time and brain power."

Tom was smart enough to not refuse the offer. "Gladly, sir," he replied. It had, after all, been a long day, and if he was going to have to put on his thinking cap again, he'd need a fresh cup. "Black, two sugars."

Michael looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Master Chief, if you don't know how to pour a cup of coffee and add sugar, maybe you should consider another occupation," he said with a chuckle after a moment, but he made no move to go to the coffee pot he had indicated.

Tom quickly regained his composure. Yes, it had been a long day indeed. "Of course, sir. My apologies." Fighting back a sigh, Tom crossed the room to the pot and poured himself a fresh mug before starting to prepare it the way he liked it.

"No problem," the starship commander said. "Accepted. I know it's been a hell of a day. I just spoke with the Romulan Governor and that was less than pleasant, too. Which is why you're here now."

"More news on our turncoat Ambassador?" Tom asked, taking a sip of the fresh coffee as he turned around to face the flag officer.

"Other than her being dead, yes," Michael said. "I don't think she's dead and neither does the Governor of Cassandara. What do you know about Romulan transporter systems?'

Tom lowered the mug carefully. He could tell this was going to be one of those meetings. "For the most part, they're a lot like ours. Transport technology isn't that unique, but each one has its own quirks. Romulan transporters are perhaps the most tricky because they can be manipulated for different, shall we say, deceptive, purposes."

"Deceptive in what way?" the Commodore asked, giving Tom his full attention.

"I know my way around transporters," Tom answered. "I actually taught at transporter school for several years, and I've had to teach quite a few tactics, including lessons learned from Romulans. With the right equipment, you can beam an individual out under the right circumstances, make it look like an accident or something else entirely."

"Could a transport be hidden by a ship exploding seconds after someone is energized?" Michael asked.

Tom sipped his coffee as he mentally fact checked the feasibility. "It could. Though, with a ship exploding, there wouldn't be much evidence of a transport. That's not to say it isn't possible, but just hard to prove."

Michael took a drink of his coffee while he thought for a moment. "Even though we never transported her off the ship, could you use the ships sensor logs to determine if you can find her pattern? I suspect that she beamed to the planet before her ship blew up. She was acting very dramatically during the fight and her ship was only partially disabled when it detonated."

Tom waved the padd he brought with him. "One step ahead of you, sir," he declared. "Not that I thought we were going to have this conversation, but transporters are a love of mine. I didn't want to let those logs get stale before I pulled that data."

"If you keep that up, Admiral Breckenridge is going to steal you from me, Barnes," the Commodore said. "However, I won't report this if you don't. You may wish to speak to....Ensign Baker in Operations, I believe. He was my old transporter chief before he became an officer."

Tom raised an eyebrow, wondering what the Commodore was trying to say. "What's to report... Commodore? I will check in with Ensign Baker, see what he can do."

"Exactly," Michael said. "Now get on it and when this is over, make certain to schedule yourself and Captain Weisz some extra holodeck time on me."

"Aye, sir," Tom said, finishing his coffee, knowing it would be far from proper to leave behind a half-finished cup. "Anything else, sir?" he asked for good measure. Somehow he managed to slip in a fleeting glance at the bonsai trees, spotting the original tree he'd cloned a while back for that prank. The cloned tree had been properly resequenced and was slowly being pruned back to health in his quarters.

"That'll be all, Master Chief," Michael said. "Get to it."

With a simple nod, Tom confirmed the order. Before leaving, however, he placed the empty mug near the coffee pot in the designated area for cleaning. As soon as he was on the other side of the ready room doors, Tom sighed. It was early in the afternoon, but the day felt like it wasn't anywhere closer to ending. Hopefully, that end would come soon.