Mother Knows Best, Pt I

Posted on Thursday, 4 June 2020 - 12:15pm by Lieutenant Ryan Rose MD
Edited on on Tuesday, 9 June 2020 - 11:38am

Mission: Operation: Iktomi
Location: USS Standing Bear
Timeline: MD -02

Two hours following the ceremony had vanished, nearly forgotten as Rhydian packed the last few items of the belongings he’d brought with him for his brief stay on the Fontana. Some part of him would miss this excursion, although he could hardly say the experience was pleasurable on his own part. The crew had made the difference between extreme boredom and devolving into an automaton which drew a small ruffling of bittersweet emotions to the surface. He wasn’t one to share his personal thoughts often beyond his work, for which he no doubt had started to grow a reputation for being vocal. Especially for a cadet, older than they compared him to the lot were probably familiar with.

Still, it was probably a unique experience for those he worked with, on both fronts. Graduate cadets weren’t common, particularly from the Exploratory Corps. Visiting another ship you weren’t permanently assigned to even less so, in his experience. Such was the latter part he would not miss. Challenging as the brief stint aboard the Fontana could have been, his squad was his family. He’d grown up alongside most of them and would likely serve with them. At least until they chose their assignments. While he didn’t know if he would ever have that luxury, it had quickly become apparent the Merian-class was not an environment suited for him. It was a patrol ship. He was an explorer. You couldn’t explore an impressive deal if they confined you to the same known regions of space for months on end. That wasn’t to say he hated the crew, or the vessel. But his usefulness had come to an expiration beyond serving as a proverbial solve-it-all tool, which he wasn’t keen on being. Anyone could be versatile if they set their mind to it; they would just never be as good as those who specialised in it.

Discovering and unlocking the impossible was his foundation. Xenocultures...people foreign and unknown to the Federation. That was where his passion, and focus lied. He could find people and map star charts from the proverbial needle in a haystack, but at the end of the day those routine missions would never fulfil on his end. Needless to say, it came with disappointment that he had to inform the branch commandant he would return to the Camelot for what it had scheduled as a supply delivery. He’d hoped it would be different, but as with life it was neither the right place, nor the right time. A pair of ships passing each other in black waters, unaware of any potential which may have lingered.

Backpack slung over his shoulder, the cadet pressed a long touch upon the door access, silently wishing his farewell to the room he’d briefly called his. It was odd, being docked at a starbase and witnessing the once minimally crewed Fontana grow into a well-resourced Standing Bear. New commanding officer and all. In the least however, he wouldn’t have to deal with any of the more problematic peoples he knew one day he’d have inevitably clashed with. He’d stopped by the new commander’s office earlier, drawing any last formalities to a close for the man he’d been recruited to find. The deal was done now however, leaving behind no actual mark of influence on his part save for a pair of holo-beacons. One for the woman who had sought him out, the other for the incoming captain. While there were no intentions of him returning, he knew the value the Corps brought. You never knew when their kind came in handy in tight spots, and such had long become a tradition for pathfinders to leave a method of contact for emergencies. A practice since the Dominion War. Hard to believe, given that was where his mother’s career really took off, not unlike the man he’d barely known save for the meticulously read file and spending a few minutes in front of.

One last request had come in however, lightly to his surprise. They would rendezvous the Casablanca with the Merlin on her way further north, however a change of plans had switched his role from passenger to that of a mission briefer. Odd, but he suspected the new captain had their reasoning, after he’d gained the necessary cargo and tapped one of the security crewmen. Agitating as it was to synthesise a restricted material, ethics had long since fallen by the wayside he’d come aware of in his youth. Reading through the dossier from Intelligence had proven no different. One last stop remained, now with a backpack over his shoulders and a cumbersome hover bed in front of him carrying the assortment of supplies for their mission.

Deck two was silent at this time of night, most of the officers silently dwelling or slumbering within their quarters no doubt. Those that didn’t were on shift in their respective departments, or more likely on another deck entirely. It wasn’t eerie, but he couldn’t deny the fleeting memory of how quiet it had been prior to the new crew arriving at the starbase. He came to a stop, trolley and all in front of cabin 204, pressing the chime. “Doc, you awake?” he inquired, trying to keep his voice from shouting. “Cadet il’Vastam. On the captain’s orders.”

Ryan had always been a light sleeper, and nothing woke him faster than the word ‘Doctor, or any derivative of it. Ryan headed out to the main living area, clad in only his boxers, but his modesty was of no concern if there was a medical issue. “Come in.” He called out, heading towards the replicator for a fresh uniform.

Propping the door open with a hold of this finger on the control, Rhydian leaned in. “Off-ship mission. We have five till launch. I’ll explain on the way. I have some med supplies here, so you need not worry about heading to sickbay. Just grab what you need.” Leaning back to pull the hover bed to the side, so it didn’t clog the hall the cadet remained partly outside to at least give the more senior official some privacy.

It wasn’t his first middle of the night wake up call for an assignment, but it was the first time a cadet had fetched him. He didn’t complain or question, just said. “I’ll be right there.” Then headed to the restroom to take care of business and change. Then he grabbed a protein bar and his lab jacket before meeting il’Vastam back out in the corridor.

“Apologies for waking you, Doc. Commander’s orders. The ship is about to leave dock and we’re assigned to another priority. I’m not permitted to share all the details until we’re on the runabout, then I can give you the case file. You’ll be point-command for the mission; I’ll only be there to help briefly.”

“Understood, it’s fine. We wouldn’t want to deny Intel their cloak and dagger now would we?” Ryan teased. “Do I need to let Emerick know, or has that been taken care of?” Ryan asked.

Even the Braidan was tempted to roll his eyes. “I’m not one for these discrete missions either. Based on what little I know, it’s more to avoid sincere worry, than what humans term cloak and dagger. There’s talk going around about several worlds pulling out, but I wouldn’t say that out loud any more after this.” He looked back to the bed. “I’d wager a fair guess Emerick already knows. If not, I doubt Stillwater would let it sit idly before they pull out of dock.”

“Excellent point.”

Rhydian moved to the side once more, allowing room for the lieutenant to get into the hallway. “We’re taking the runabout. I was able to convince them to allow you to have a security crewman to go along with. Doesn’t seem right to send you out there alone. Did you have someone in mind for piloting? I can get us there, but the Merlin is scheduled to rendezvous with us part way. I’ll be leaving at that point.”

“One of the small craft pilots I suppose. I’m not sure they can trust me not to end up completely lost.” Ryan admitted. He was a doctor, his skill set outside of that was limited.

The cadet hummed briefly in concurrence. “I am afraid I haven’t had the opportunity yet to get all that well acquainted with most of the crew members. Did you have any in mind? If not, I can stop by one of the roster stations and see if we can recruit someone. Worst-case scenario, a hologram.”

Ryan debated. He did not understand how dangerous this mission would be, a hologram would be safer, but if there were any power issues, he’d need an actual person. “Petty Officer Rayes.” Ryan replied. He was the first of the small crafts pilots he’d done a physical on, so his name came to mind.

Nodding as he deferred to the senior officer, Rhydian tapped his badge. “il’Vastam to Petty Officer Rayes. Please report to Deck Five as soon as you are able.” He cast a quick look to the doctor before returning his focus back to the hovering cart in front of them. “Any last business, sir? Otherwise we should get to the runabout as quickly as we can. I’m told the brass are getting impatient with this order. Something about being a few months overdue.”

“No no, we can go.” Ryan led the man. Briefly appreciative of the doctor’s brevity, the cadet headed to the nearest turbo lift. Once aboard he manned the code for the lower decks, shooting them into the aft of the ship. His expression grew into thankfulness upon seeing the runabout already prepared, the last of the flight deck crewman finishing stocking the limited cargo space.

The cadet stopped the hover bed in front of him, allowing the supplies to be loaded as he held a PADD out in front of him for the doctor. “We’ll be nearly one-hundred and thirty-six light years from our current position. Traditionally, about a month and a week’s travel for the maximum cruise speed of the Casablanca. Fortunately, we have some logistics in a place that may ease that, if a bit uncomfortable.” He pointed to the small crates being loaded, acknowledging the upwards finger cast towards him by a crew woman, signalling they were ready. “Those have our nearest equivalent of currency for trading. We weren’t afforded latinum so we must make due with non-replicated supplies. One of which I must tell you about on board. I took the liberty of forwarding the specifics and synthesisation process to your terminal in sickbay, if you ever need it following this mission.”

“Uhhh ok.” Ryan was awake, but this was still a lot to take in at O dark thirty. “I certainly hope it doesn’t take five weeks.” He couldn’t imagine leaving sickbay in the hands of Emerick for that long. Not that he didn’t trust the EMH, but it was his sickbay, home more or less. He took the PaDD and headed into the runabout. Quickly followed as the last immediate passenger, a satisfied look fell upon the younger of the two as the cadet assessed the rapidly assembled issue they had given the pair leave of. He closed the rear hatch, sealing it as the atmosphere pressurised to leave the runabout an independent vessel.

“How about just under two-and-a-half days, one way? Theoretically at least. A little over double for a round trip, to give some leeway for your mission.” He held a brief smirk as he headed for the cockpit of the runabout, letting the doctor get familiar with the premises. “I haven’t been on board the Casablanca yet, so I only had a chance to look over her layout quickly. We appear to have a two-bed medbay in the back for emergencies, four crew cabins and a gathering area just behind the cockpit. Cargo spaced throughout the compartments.” He looked over the instruments, curiously popping an eyebrow to the crewman that had already planted themselves in the pilot seat. “Would you prefer your briefing now, sir, or after some rest? We can get under way, if you prefer some sleep.”

Ryan wasted no time getting gear stowed away as he talked with Rhydian. “I’ll never sleep without knowing. Go ahead and tell me as much as you can if you don’t mind.”

Acknowledging the preference, the junior nodded as the craft lifted off from the deck, wasting no time in launching from the still-darkened bay. “Would you like a seat, sir? This may get bumpy. Literally,” he offered as he gestured to one of the available chairs. “Or if you’d prefer more privacy, we can go to the gathering area.”

Ryan put the last of his gear away, then took the offered seat. “Oh, this is fine Cadet.” He wanted to tell the man to just call him Ryan, but Rhydian seemed formal, and he didn’t want to make the other man uncomfortable, so he just nodded. “Go ahead with your briefing, please.”

“Very well,” Rhydian agreed, taking the seat. He brushed open his own interface from the wristlet, projecting a holo map in front of them. “We’re not that far from the Neutral Zone right now. This will carry us far to the northwest, about five days’ travel from Sol at modest warp speed. I can’t say I’m familiar with all of humanity’s colloquialisms, but I don’t believe your mission falls under what you lot term ‘cloak and dagger’. No sabotage, assassination, undermining or the likes. That’s the correct usage, right?” Looking to the medical officer for partially rhetorical confirmation, he shrugged before continuing, “It is, however, off the record to my knowledge. A security manner. The commander selected you, because of one of the cargo pieces we’re carrying.” He looked back, pointing out a black box with a medical emblem printed in front of it, a biometric scanner resting atop as a lock. “The other boxes carry non-replicated human cooking spices. Apparently a valuable commodity in the region you’re heading for. But they suggested us to carry a small complement of Qorinox. I don’t suppose you’re familiar with it?”

“It’s illegal.” was the first thing out of Ryan’s mouth. “At least without the proper documentation and research credentials. Though personally, I have hopes for its future uses. Why is it onboard?”

“Very much so. At least because of its restriction. I had to get the synthesising instructions from R&D. Command, and by extension Stillwater authorised its use after their recommendation. They have a lead that someone who supposedly has ties with the Syndicate is willing to barter for it. Information. Information that we need. I don’t agree with the ethics of releasing a lab-contained prototypical fluid. Especially with less than a kilogramme rumoured to be in use. But that’s not my call.”

Ryan sighed, he was already feeling over his head with this mission, and they hadn't even arrived anywhere yet. “Alright, well continue please.” He’d have to deal with the moral issues later.

Straight-faced and displeased with the situation, Rhydian attempted to draw his focus away from the container. “I suspended it in a stasis field, so it can be transported safely inside a phial. There’s a portable force-field generator surrounding that. You should be safe, but I suppose now you may see why this was...what’s the term? Need-to-know? Trying to avoid upset.”

“Yes, wish it was something I didn’t know. I didn’t sign on to Starfleet for Intel and covert missions.”

“And I’m an exploratory cadet, yet here we are. That aside...I’m hoping once we rendezvous with the Merlin we’ll be able to dock with her. The Casablanca may not fit in her shuttle bay, but with any luck a solid lock will get us to use her tetryon catapult. She’s scheduled to pick me up for a mission at Free Haven, which is just under two-and-a-half days from Xanthan, where you’ll be going. Crewman Woji is assigned as your security escort.” Looking over at the manifest display, he pointed to the ship’s diagram. “She’s in one bunk resting, it would seem. I believe she only recently came aboard.”

Sighing, the cadet looked grimly at the doctor. “If you can get back to Free Haven from Xanthan with your mission completed, we may launch you back to this vicinity, cutting off a month’s travel time. Please believe me when I say, and from what I was heavily expressed to, time is of the essence. The Standing Bear will leave almost immediately for a patrol mission. Something about investigating continued marauding encompassing the entire Federation, to which they believe your lead may give some crucial insight.”

“Well, let’s hope it’s short and sweet.” Ryan asked a few other details, but all things considered, he had enough to work with, whether or not he liked it.

“And now the part I’ve been dreading. I’m speculating here, and I can only draw this from what I could read off the commander’s expression. Way above my clearance, but if this mission fails...well. Let’s just say, if I’m right the flotilla the Standing Bear is in will probably fail their mission. And it may very well affect the stability of the Federation’s economy. Some worlds have threatened to pull out.” He grimaced, turning off the projector. “Your lead is an Orion woman that goes by the name of Zhea. Unofficially Starfleet Intelligence knows she’s a spy mistress for the Syndicate. A regional boss that deals with any of the logics and information passing in the two quadrants supposedly goes through her. The catch being...she doesn’t know you’re coming. And she hates Starfleet. Immensely.”

“What? Are they expecting me to pretend I’m not in Starfleet?” Ryan asked, dumbfounded. “I practically scream recruiting poster.” He snarked.

The cadet shrugged. “I’m not the one giving orders, Doc. I would guess it’s up to you to interpret how to achieve them. All I can gather though is Starfleet really wants access to her information. And apparently will pay no insignificant token for it, if that container back there is anything to go by.” He leaned back into the chair, trying to get a hint more comfortable only to be distressed by the hard metal at his spine. “I don’t know how they got the info that she has attachments to the Syndicate. But I probably wouldn’t put it out there. Then again, we may well have an unknown friend in that region. So who knows?”

“Achieve what exactly?” Ryan wasn’t getting all this cloak and dagger. “Talk it down for me.” Ryan requested. “Cloak and dagger for kindergartners. I will try to trade this gel for information on what exactly?”

Rhydian hummed before laughing, albeit gently. “Well, they definitely chose the wrong two people to talk about this then. Because it’s not my specialty either. I’m just good with information, so far as this mission is concerned. And I wasn’t given much. But maybe Crewman Woji may be of help there. She is in security, which works with SpecOps sometimes. I don’t know if it’s part of her training or history, but I imagine they chose her for a reason.” Leaning in briefly, he sighed. “If I may speculate, creatively again. If the Standing Bear is being sent to join a flotilla to intercept and locate marauders that are routinely plundering and shattering our trade networks. I’d imagine the information has something to do with that. Maybe finding who these marauders are. Or where? Perhaps this Zhea knows something, if she isn’t directly involved. If not her, were it me, I’d try one of her underlings. The Syndicate is known to be tight-lipped and near impossible to penetrate. But everyone slips up now and then. If Commander Victrix was anything to go off, after having a few drinks.”

Ryan sighed, then stood up. “I’m going to bed.” He decided. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like being asked off at the nearest anything after a few more hours of sleep. He’d try to tackle this with a clearer head.

“Of course. Would you like me to let you know when we rendezvous with the Merlin, before I depart, or just have Crewman Rayes take care of the docking and let you sleep?”

“Unless you have anything to add, just let Rayes take care of it.” Ryan wasn’t the one who was supposed to make these kinds of decisions. He’d never had a desire to be in Command of anything that didn’t have a biobed attached to it. “Thank you though, cadet.” He added. “I know none of this is your doing. I appreciate you trying to help.”

“Will do. I’ll see what I can do to get our travel time cut as well. Sleep well, sir. And Doc? It’s been a pleasure.”

 

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