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" . . . and that's the Official story." PII

Posted on Sat Jan 19th, 2019 @ 6:04am by Captain Lance Violator & Lieutenant Commander Erahr "Ress" Ch'etiaress & Lieutenant Robert Starcher Jr. & Lieutenant Dean House M.D.

Mission: Commissioning
Location: USS Invisibles Oculos (NCC-132250i)/DS K-7 AOR
Timeline: 241809.07
Tags: Checkups after shakedown

* * * * * USS Invisibles Oculos (NCC-132250i) * * * * *

The Intel refit, Defiant-class ship began the final steps of the procedure to dock at K-7 berth one. Dean stood up from the main chair on the bridge and moved to go down to the docking port. Mikes hand flew atop his console, first finishing the docking procedures, then notifying Durham that we were snug in our assigned berth and taking on supplies.

* * * * * Deep Space K-7 * * * * *

Durham was at the docking hatch walking through as the Commander of the Station approached with his hand out. "Good to see you, Durham." Durham shook the hand while responding, "It's been a while. How's the knee, Glenn?"

Cmdr. Glenn smiled and said in a low voice between the two, "I see you remember. Yeah, fine with the replacement, but still feels funny when Romulans show up with their ships. Thank you, but onto business." Hands him a black P.A.D.D. "As of one hour ago, Marchenko is captured and Ress is unaccounted for. Assets in the area say, " he points to spots on the map on the P.A.D.D." Ress has been keeping them busy with false trails and traps. The bad guys have lost 15 men so far and are very pissed. A kill order went out 47 minutes ago. So, we will get you fueled, fed, briefed, and out of here as fast as we can. We will upgrade the cloak and . . ."

Durham cut him off. "NO!, offense, but give us the specs we'll take care of it. Though you are briefed on the mission, you are NOT briefed on the Oculos." He nodded to the two M.A.C.O. near the airlock and said, "No one, that isn't manifested on this mission, gets aboard Sargent." With that, the Sargent popped tall, came to attention and cocked his weapon. Durham turned to Glenn. "Sorry ol' friend. This one is too important."

"I understand. Been there done that. You remember." Cmdr Glenn said as he notices someone coming. "I'll get those briefings ready." He then walked away.

Dean had followed and was listening back and for the between the two of them. Blinking a moment. Shaking his head with a disappointed look on his face. "Alright everyone, calm down. Look, we appreciate the timely response for this mission. We will take care of it as far as the ship goes. There's no need for hostility."

John did a backhanded wave as he was out of voice distance, but didn't want to be rude.

Durham glanced behind him and started walking farther into the station. "And how may help you, lieutenant?" The M.A.C.O. lieutenant commander continued to read the black P.A.D.D. and walk.

House turned to follow, "What was all that? I get them not needing on the ship and all, but that was about to come to blows."

"Not really," said Durham, "we've known each other a very long time. He just likes to push boundaries when no one is paying attention. He used to be an interrogator before he got injured."

"I see, however, that was still a bit unprofessional in front of other officers that did not know the relationship between the two of you." Dean made a bit of a face.

"Welcome to a just a little glimpse into my world. We don't give a damn what others think. Who else what around? We knew you were there. My M.A.C.O. guys are there on watch. Did you notice anything else?" Durham raises his left eyebrow and crossed his arms and impatiently asked, "Well?"

"I understand some of that, and being on watch is one thing. What I noticed is the blatant hostility that, as I said unless someone knew the dynamic between you two. Is completely giving the wrong impression. Along with the capacity of official orders or instructions, that should not be done....sir." Dean sighed.

"Did you know see the female yeoman that had rounded the corner? As soon as we saw her we started our, seemingly negative, banter. We got our message across to each other, but it made the young woman feel uncomfortable so she left. By the way, techs will be here in 15 minutes 47 seconds. Guards, copy?"

"Yes, SIR!" Came the answer in unison.

"Anything else I can help you with, DOCTOR, or do you want to continue to waste time correcting M.A.C.O. protocol, and convention with proper Star Fleet prim and properness? Or don't you give a damn that your X.O., and a damn fine Intel Officer, is running for his life right now? For all intents and purposes, we've already lost his escort. Well, do you?"

"I saw her, which is also something you should not have done." Dean shook his head, "It doesn't matter what bullshit rhetoric you think fit, but you haven't thought of anyone else. Just being an Intelligence Officer doesn't make you god. That is my job. It was my task to even get people to come on this mission because I do care. You're a fluffer." Turning and walking off. Not wanting to talk any more.

"We have shit to do. Also, "DOCTOR," she was a plant. You failed your situational awareness test. I can't have you getting people killed with your lack of training. Guards keep that Star Fleet non-hacker on the ship. No one gets off the ship without my approval. Let the wanna-be sulk on the ship."

"YES, SIR!," came the answer again in unison as they got into an escorting position to put the doctor between them and the Oculos'. "Let's go, Doctor, you heard the commander." As they escorted House back into the Oculos through the only exit from the ship.

Durham checked his timepiece and took off at a dead run down the gangway passageway. "Durham to Glenn. I'm on my way. Let's get that brief done."


* * * * * USS Invisibles Oculos (NCC-132250i) * * * * *

Mike stood and smoothed his uniform then took the command seat. He transferred his station readings and controls to the command seats readouts and controls. Mike accepted a P.A.D.D. from a crewman with a readout on it about the new list of crew staying and leaving while the new ordinance was being upgraded.

The M.A.C.O. were moving around the bridge, like bees that knew their spots without talking. Changes were being made and obviously reading and recordings were being made and loaded into black P.A.D.D.s and, subsequently, put into a black case. The lieutenant coordinating the effort said, "Place those boxes on the Flag bridge to be loaded to the classified server." Then he was the last of the crowd that was leaving the bridge.

A petty officer, dressed in M.A.C.O. gear approached Starcher. Sir, there are cloak technicians arriving at 1547 local. It's 1500 now, sir. "Acknowledged Petty Officer, inform the technicians I want quad redundancies in place for the cloak power systems," Mike said.

"Acknowledged, sir we will follow the specs given," Answered the petty officer.

House being escorted already had him annoyed, though he was more pissed at Durham. Once past the airlock, he looked to the 'escorts.' "I'm fine from here unless you both want broken ribs."

"Bring it on, 'augee'. Yeah, we know your profile. Besides I don't need augmented DNA to be faster and stronger than a Terran because I'm not Terran. Now shut up and do as you are told. Sergeant, I got the door." The very large Rowan took guard on the door and stared intently at the Doctor and shooed him away like a petulant child.

Moving from there and headed for the turbo lift, reaching and tapping his comm badge. "House to Bridge, I will be in Sickbay for a little bit, apprise me of anything necessary that comes up." His tone of not being happy could clearly be heard.

"Bridge to House. Lieutenant, there is a Cloaking Technician team due to board the ship in about 47 minutes." Mike said. After waiting for the doctors' response he tapped the Comm button on his console readout. "Bridge to Commander Durham, there is a cloaking technician team due to board the ship to work on the cloak."

"Roger that Ops. Thank you. Well done taking control of the bridge, without being told. It's appreciated. As for the technicians, I know. Durham out." Was the answer the M.A.C.O. commander gave.

Dean tapped the comm button on his own console. "Is that Commander Durham's team? Technicians from the station are not cleared to come aboard to work on it."

The enlisted technician pulled out a black P.A.D.D. and handed it to Starcher after overhearing the comms. "We are new M.A.C.O., we are ships' crew doing the install, SIR. Also, we are OMEGA squad." With that, he snatched the black P.A.D.D. back and went to work under a console.

Since House could hear the Technicians words through the open comm link, he frowned a bit. Whispering under his breath, "They are cocky sons of bitches that need to be knocked down a peg or two." Giving a sigh, "Starcher, go ahead and allow them on board and go about their business. Don't worry about the holier than thou thing. We still have standing rank and authority not them. It'll be easier to just let it get done so they can go back to whatever hole they crawled out of." Intentionally said where it could be heard not just by Starcher.

Mike tapped the Com button on the chairs readout screen. "Acknowledged, Lieutenant, but Starfleet Regulations 160 section 50 states that no technician may NOT make any upgrades/repairs to classified "Eyes Only" Equipment without proper clearances from Utopia Planitia "Eyes Only" Brass. I have never heard of Omega Squad so how am I to know if they have the proper clearance."

"Neither have I, but I was standing right there next to Commander Durham. He approved them, regardless of thinking they are well above us because they are supposed to be elites. Let them go ahead and get their work done so they can get the hell off of our ship." Dean nodded to himself as he finished saying that. Leaning over a bit to work on the console in front of him. Sending a 'text' message to Mike. 'use the Operations console to keep an eye on them and Durham. Authorization code House-Beta-Whiskey-Two-Six-Zero. There is still something amiss we are not being told.'

When the text popped up on the readout screen on the command chair console, Mike keyed in Starcher Alpha 3272 Omega Beta, to access the message and read it. He keyed in "There is way too much intelligence personal for a simple extraction, something has happened and I am feeling we need to corner Durham for a low down."

House sighed a bit, returning a message, 'Evidently, when and how is the question.'

Mike stood up from the command chair and tapped his communicator. "Starcher to Commander Durham, I need to speak you, Sir, where can I meet you?"

The comm acknowledged and shut off. As Lieutenant Commander Durham was at the Ops/Intel brief.

The newly arrived M.A.C.O. Petty Officer was working at the engineering console when the M.A.C.O. with an Omega symbol on its belly popped up for a security screen. He waved the M.A.C.O. officer over. They put in their M.A.C.O. Omega codes and returned to work on the upgrades. "Sir, " getting the attention of the M.A.C.O. officer, " we need to go to deck 2, finish the field change, and contact the new Commander Durham. Did you hear he got promoted in the last batch of promotions." With that, they left the normal bridge to finish on the classified bridge.

* * * * * Cursa, Klingon Empire * * * * *

The group of brigands, thieves, murderers, and cutthroats were intently searching for Ress. He had the information they could "NOT" let off the planet. They thought by capturing his teammate he'd sacrifice himself to save him. It seems their intel on "haa-mans" was wrong.

"I swear, I will hang that blue skin on my trophy shelf when I find him!" yelled a Klingon as he was searching down a particularly dingy alley. He and his crew signed up with Turanza as a way to get some quick credits.

"Well first we have to find him, Othuc." replied a rather frail looking Orion. He was a recent addition to the band as a way to keep an eye on the rather rowdy bunch. He managed to get a chuckle out of the Nausicaans that they along for the hunt.

Othuc took a rather long second to consider if it was worth killing the annoying little petaQ. It would mean taking a pay cut he could ill afford, but he had not killed in a while. The next thing he knew, he was blinded and all he could hear was a ringing that overwhelmed all other sounds. Once his sight started to return, he noticed his weak overseer was laying face down in Kahless knows what and his other brigands were also out of commission with disruptor burns on their chests and backs. Swinging back around to face the alley, he was surprised to see the same antennaed freak who just took out his men. His disruptor's tip was smoking from just being fired and pointed right at Othuc's face. His antennae were pointed menacingly towards him, barely kept rage and exhaustion showing on his face. What came next was what could be called badly pronounced Klingon.

"yebDu'wIj tera'ngan." the blue man said.

Othuc was not a stupid man. A terrible Klingon, maybe, but not stupid. He nodded his head and dropped his weapon on the ground, raising his hand so to not seem threatening, and walked.

* * * * * Syndicate Warehouse, Cursa, Klingon Empire * * * * *

"You mean to tell me that an Andorian, one of the weakest Federation species next to the Humans, has managed to evade you for this long?" the Klingon who interrogated Mark asked. His composure remained stoic except for his clenched fists as he paced in front of a window.

"He's been slippery so far, yes." Turanza gestured as he was sweating profusely. "But, we should have him in a matter of hours.". Just being in the presence of this Klingon was more than what he bargained for. He thought just kidnapping the two wayward Fedrats and selling him to this rogue KDF leader would be enough to retire, especially with the amount he was offered, but now he was beginning to believe this was a bad deal.

Othuc hated working for this petaQ, Turenza. But this was the quickest way to get the credits he needed to get out of the debt with the Ferengi that ran the gambling establishment, backed by the Syndicate. He had to keep reminding himself of this to keep from killing them all.

Turanza turned around with an evilly coy smile on his face. "Corral this blue troublemaker over here." This is the hottest part of the city because of the factory and other discharges. He will fatigue faster due to the heat. UNDERSTAND!?" Turanza got into the Klingons face hissing the last word of the question.

* * * * * Cursa, Klingon Empire * * * * *
Ress, sweating his everything off. He was looking for water to hydrate while using his S.E.R.E. training to get to the alternative extraction point.

* * * * * USS Invisibles Oculos (NCC-132250i) * * * * *
The work on the ship was complete. Stores maxed, tech updated, specialists onboard.

The M.A.C.O.'s were being relieved from their bridge and other stations by what looked like less rough looking "support" staff. They were S.W.M.C. or Special Warfare M.A.C.O. Crewmen. They bridged the gap between being Starfleet and M.A.C.O. to support these M.A.C.O. intel operators. Fully trained as M.A.C.O., but trained for support and extraction ops of the M.A.C.O., when necessary. The Omega squad was forming in the cargo bay on deck three when the newly promoted COMMANDER Durham beamed in. The group started whistling and catcalling Durham for the new rank, then started clapping and yelling "HOOYAH!, HOOYAH!, HOOYAH!"

"Alright knuckleheads, knock it off. Thank you, but I wouldn't have this new hardware without you hard chargers. NOW, let's get down to the briefing." Durham looked around knowing this one was especially hot. He knew he was going to lose people. He took a deep breath and began. "Assets on the ground have lost lieutenant commander Ch'etiaress or 'Ress' we know he's heading toward the most densely forested and or cluttered non-urban place he can get to, HERE, " the commander points to a point on the holographic map, "where he surely hopes to survive, evade, resist, and escape these shit heads. It's a mixed bag out there. Orion syndicates, Klingons, and other dregs of society. If it ain't Marchenko or 'Ress' shoot to kill. All friendly have been told to clear out. Any questions?" The M.A.C.O. were all silent. "Alright, the "Swim-Macs" have the bridge and other watches, get ready for ground ops. We leave the port now." As he finished he tapped his comm device. "Bridge this is Durham. Cut all moorings and get underway. At 10K meters engage the cloak and head to the Klingon border." Durham then pulled his M.A.C.O. communicator out and engaged it. "Omega control this is Omega one, secure all external comms, we are in silent running until we recover our target. Durham out." Durham finished getting his M.A.C.O. gear on.

Mike took his chair at the Operations console and began running level 1 diagnostics on all power systems. "All green across the board we are ready to activate the cloak and depart spacedock," he said.


Starcher, Lieutenant
Chief Operations Officer
USS Ares (NCC-132250)

House, Lieutenant
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ares (NCC-132250)

Lance R. Violator, Capt.
Commanding Officer
USS Ares (NCC-132250)

 

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