Drinking on the Job
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Charles Cadwallader
Aug 9, 2011, 2:05:14 PM8/9/11
to startrek...@googlegroups.com
(CO Ready Room, USS Excalibur -- Ten Minutes Later)
“Not exactly an easy way to fly, that much is certain,” Bob said as he handed Tank a glass of alcohol. “I think you deserve this. I’m sure we’ll get some better stock once we get going … being outside of the normal purview of Starfleet regulations will have its benefits.”
“Once we get going?” Tank said with a sly grin and a wink as he pulled a bottle of Saurian brandy from the duffel he had let rest on the console to his right, “I’ve been on the job for a couple days now, not twiddling my thumbs with a refit.” He drained his glass and refilled it from the new bottle, doing the same for Bob once his glass was empty.
“If you want some good news, you will actually have your own quarters and office here … unusual for a Defiant, but with the retrofit they were able to squeak it in for you.”
“That is a turn for the better I suppose, though I rightly enjoyed bunking with the chief engineer way back when,” He gave with another wink, apparently being back on board a ship, let alone one named the Excalibur had put the veteran at ease and in a good mood. “How’s the crew look, did we get anybody good?”
Bob laughed as he tossed a PADD onto his friend's lap. "That's a very interesting question. Why not take a look yourself?"
Tank thumbed quickly through the file, not only was a it a small crew it was made up of what would otherwise be considered convicts and screwups, “Wow... I’ve never seen something so well crafted as this”
Bob nodded. "Not exactly an all star lineup ... if you will pardon my baseball metaphor for a moment. Basically, these people are here as a punishment, and I guess that means we are too."
“Impressive,” Chandler raise an eyebrow, “Their number of charges is only second to their number of commendations...”
"I'm trying to look on the bright side for the moment. Dig deep enough into each bio and you will find really valuable skills, each one really being on the tip of something great ... but falling flat on their butts instead." Bob paused for a moment. "I haven't even got to the best part yet."
Jean wasn't sure he wanted to know what the 'best part' even was.
"I've already had an attempt to take me out of the picture."
The old marine quickly jumped back to the top of the document, “So that’s why Mr. Davidson has been transferred already?”
“Transferred is a nice, euphemistic way of stating things. I was hoping to take him into custody so that I could question him myself, but he was transported away as soon as I had him knocked unconscious. I’m guessing a personal transporter was rigged to get him out of here if his bio signs dropped below a certain level.”
Tank leaned in and nodded, handing back the pad to his friend and refilling both their glasses from the fine bottle. “I was afraid something like that would happen, and I was tipped off.”
Leaning back in his chair, Bob considered it for a moment. “Tipped off? Someone knows what might be going on?”
“I ran into, literally, Chris Williams while procuring a couple things. He didn’t have much time to talk but he desperately wanted to get in touch with you and knew that I’d be seeing you soon.”
“Williams … I’m guessing this has something to do with Admiral Denton then. Perhaps he knows something that can help us get started here. What do you think of tagging him as our first trip?”
Despite everything the colonel grimaced when he stretched slightly, delaying what he had to say. He settled into the chair in the small ready room, “Bob, Denton is dead. Official report says natural causes, addendum by his closest aides says murder...“ Tank took a sip before going on, “Assassination of a Starfleet Admiral... and if Williams is right, he wasn’t the only one. Apparently his organization lost contact with 6 other high profile members around the same time as they lost Denton, and I’m willing to bet that the attack on you wasn’t a coincidence.”
‘Dead.’ The word hung in Bob’s head for a moment as he considered what that meant. “We, or at least I never worked directly with the Admiral, so why would they be targeting me?”
“It doesn’t matter that we were never with Denton and his teams, we ended up working on enough things together and getting enough aid from his group that I’m sure we became targets of high priority. Heck brother, the fact that we can’t be traced to being part of that faction probably has them more spooked than anything, thinking there may be whole cadres of people out there they don’t know about, possibly within their own ranks.”
“Fear is something we will have to try and use. This entire mission probably has all of them looking over their shoulders at the moment, thinking that something must be coming their way. Now that you’ve essentially gone ‘off the grid’, I’m sure they will be looking for you again.”
“And remember who rescued me, so they’ll be hot on your heels as well. They’ll probably suspect the whole thing was a move against them, I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t a preemptive strike to take us out of the game earlier than not.”
“So they’ve lost contact with six other members, that means there must be some left … or a few they don’t know about yet. I think our best bet is to leave well enough alone for the moment, but keep our eyes open for any clues as to what might happen,” Bob took a drink. “Any chance you could compile a list of who might be the other six? We’re not going to directly look into those deaths at the moment, but we will need to be prepared just in case.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but without being able to talk to Williams or anyone else I’ll have to make some inquiries very quietly and sift through a mountain of official records.”
“That will have to do.” Another moment of silence. “However, back to work. Would you like to see your quarters, colonel?”
Tank replaced the stopper into the brandy bottle and stowed it back in his bag, “Lead on boss.”
Standing, Bob stretched a little but could feel the weight of what had just been discussed. This was not the cloud he needed over his head at the moment, but this was going to be part of the job.
They were going to be very alone.
--“Not exactly an easy way to fly, that much is certain,” Bob said as he handed Tank a glass of alcohol. “I think you deserve this. I’m sure we’ll get some better stock once we get going … being outside of the normal purview of Starfleet regulations will have its benefits.”
“Once we get going?” Tank said with a sly grin and a wink as he pulled a bottle of Saurian brandy from the duffel he had let rest on the console to his right, “I’ve been on the job for a couple days now, not twiddling my thumbs with a refit.” He drained his glass and refilled it from the new bottle, doing the same for Bob once his glass was empty.
“If you want some good news, you will actually have your own quarters and office here … unusual for a Defiant, but with the retrofit they were able to squeak it in for you.”
“That is a turn for the better I suppose, though I rightly enjoyed bunking with the chief engineer way back when,” He gave with another wink, apparently being back on board a ship, let alone one named the Excalibur had put the veteran at ease and in a good mood. “How’s the crew look, did we get anybody good?”
Bob laughed as he tossed a PADD onto his friend's lap. "That's a very interesting question. Why not take a look yourself?"
Tank thumbed quickly through the file, not only was a it a small crew it was made up of what would otherwise be considered convicts and screwups, “Wow... I’ve never seen something so well crafted as this”
Bob nodded. "Not exactly an all star lineup ... if you will pardon my baseball metaphor for a moment. Basically, these people are here as a punishment, and I guess that means we are too."
“Impressive,” Chandler raise an eyebrow, “Their number of charges is only second to their number of commendations...”
"I'm trying to look on the bright side for the moment. Dig deep enough into each bio and you will find really valuable skills, each one really being on the tip of something great ... but falling flat on their butts instead." Bob paused for a moment. "I haven't even got to the best part yet."
Jean wasn't sure he wanted to know what the 'best part' even was.
"I've already had an attempt to take me out of the picture."
The old marine quickly jumped back to the top of the document, “So that’s why Mr. Davidson has been transferred already?”
“Transferred is a nice, euphemistic way of stating things. I was hoping to take him into custody so that I could question him myself, but he was transported away as soon as I had him knocked unconscious. I’m guessing a personal transporter was rigged to get him out of here if his bio signs dropped below a certain level.”
Tank leaned in and nodded, handing back the pad to his friend and refilling both their glasses from the fine bottle. “I was afraid something like that would happen, and I was tipped off.”
Leaning back in his chair, Bob considered it for a moment. “Tipped off? Someone knows what might be going on?”
“I ran into, literally, Chris Williams while procuring a couple things. He didn’t have much time to talk but he desperately wanted to get in touch with you and knew that I’d be seeing you soon.”
“Williams … I’m guessing this has something to do with Admiral Denton then. Perhaps he knows something that can help us get started here. What do you think of tagging him as our first trip?”
Despite everything the colonel grimaced when he stretched slightly, delaying what he had to say. He settled into the chair in the small ready room, “Bob, Denton is dead. Official report says natural causes, addendum by his closest aides says murder...“ Tank took a sip before going on, “Assassination of a Starfleet Admiral... and if Williams is right, he wasn’t the only one. Apparently his organization lost contact with 6 other high profile members around the same time as they lost Denton, and I’m willing to bet that the attack on you wasn’t a coincidence.”
‘Dead.’ The word hung in Bob’s head for a moment as he considered what that meant. “We, or at least I never worked directly with the Admiral, so why would they be targeting me?”
“It doesn’t matter that we were never with Denton and his teams, we ended up working on enough things together and getting enough aid from his group that I’m sure we became targets of high priority. Heck brother, the fact that we can’t be traced to being part of that faction probably has them more spooked than anything, thinking there may be whole cadres of people out there they don’t know about, possibly within their own ranks.”
“Fear is something we will have to try and use. This entire mission probably has all of them looking over their shoulders at the moment, thinking that something must be coming their way. Now that you’ve essentially gone ‘off the grid’, I’m sure they will be looking for you again.”
“And remember who rescued me, so they’ll be hot on your heels as well. They’ll probably suspect the whole thing was a move against them, I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t a preemptive strike to take us out of the game earlier than not.”
“So they’ve lost contact with six other members, that means there must be some left … or a few they don’t know about yet. I think our best bet is to leave well enough alone for the moment, but keep our eyes open for any clues as to what might happen,” Bob took a drink. “Any chance you could compile a list of who might be the other six? We’re not going to directly look into those deaths at the moment, but we will need to be prepared just in case.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but without being able to talk to Williams or anyone else I’ll have to make some inquiries very quietly and sift through a mountain of official records.”
“That will have to do.” Another moment of silence. “However, back to work. Would you like to see your quarters, colonel?”
Tank replaced the stopper into the brandy bottle and stowed it back in his bag, “Lead on boss.”
Standing, Bob stretched a little but could feel the weight of what had just been discussed. This was not the cloud he needed over his head at the moment, but this was going to be part of the job.
They were going to be very alone.
Charles E. L. Cadwallader
"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" - "I will either find a way or make one"
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