Fleet Captain Peter Crawford walked from wall screen to wall screen, searching for an answer. He stood in one of the USS Denver’s operational situation meeting rooms, analyzing the data as the system updated it with new information collected, categorized, and identified. Captain Leopold Halsey from the Olympic sat at the long table, joined by Captain Helena Dread of the Buran. Commander Raelin Korvath from Relentless was on her way, as was Lieutenant Commander Abigail Scott from Southampton. Crawford finished reviewing the screens and returned to his seat at the table. “You think whatever group of Tholians out there are even willing to talk to someone like Selene Voss?” When Halsey had sent over the report, Crawford hadn’t disagreed with the idea presented being categorized as ‘wild’.
Leopold drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought. Spending the time he had with the man, he learned when Halsey wasn’t sure of an answer. He couldn’t blame him. Whatever was happening inside Tholian space was confusing the hell out of all of them. Halsey’s fingers came to a halt, and he sat up. “I don’t know. The sudden reports of errant Gorn activity are making it harder to discern what’s happening. I can’t fathom either species seeing the value in making a deal with Voss. She can’t either. Tholians or Gorn would just turn on her when the job is done. If we’re talking Klingon, Romulan, or Cardassian…sure. Those are viable. But this…this is madness.”
The door to the meeting room flew open, and Korvath walked in, followed by Scott. Both stood at attention while Crawford waved them to seats. “Welcome to the madness. You’ve read the reports and the data?” Both nodded, and he leaned forward. “Then we’re open to ideas. Both of our teams have exhausted every angle they know.”
Korvath pulled out her PADD, scrolling until she located the relevant parts of the report. “Fleet Captain Crawford, the reports mention the discovery of the Orion sub-signal that was detected within the communications streams.” Crawford replied with a quiet nod. She continued. “We had a brainstorming session on Relentless last night. Lieutenant Pelletier suggested another way of looking at it.” She stood and walked to one screen, clearing it. “It’s an old method, but we think,” she tapped at the screen, bringing up the map of the Tholian border and beyond, which displayed the signals, current Tholian ship readings, and the Federation side of the border. “We think Voss might try to agitate the Tholians into attacking.” She tapped the approximate locations where the signals showed up. “They’re far enough to Tholian territory, but not far enough.”
Crawford blinked, absorbing the theory. “That leaves the question of how they got in there. Tholian surveillance is better than ours, and they watch the border.”
Korvath smiled thinly. “That’s where this wild theory becomes a conspiracy theory with limited proof.” She tapped the screen, pulling up a file she’d transferred over. “A week ago, a Ferengi delegation entered Tholian space to start their monthly trading operation with the Tholians. Montana checked that they had correctly filled out the forms. Montana’s team verified the crew, and then approved and posted all the permits. All standard practice.”
Halsey groaned, putting his head on the table. “Let me guess. There’s a ‘but’ coming.” Crawford kept his grumbling silent but had felt a similar foreboding creeping into his mind.
The Bajoran tapped at the screen. “The names and faces of the original crew checked out. Yesterday, security had a report of a dead body in the lower decks. It was one of the original crew.”
Halsey’s head was still on the table. Crawford felt like joining him, but resisted. Instead, he asked, “How many crew on this convoy?”
“Fifteen. Montana Station is investigating. They presume at worst the other fourteen are lying dead somewhere; at best they’ve already killed whatever original crew remained on the convoy ships.” Korvath put her PADD on the table. “As for how this is supposed to work, we’re still working on that. The lead ships in the convoy are Ferengi and the others are simple transport ships. Nothing Starfleet to ‘em.”
Crawford turned to motion in his periphery. It was the newly promoted Abigail Scott of the Southampton. “Lieutenant Commander?” She was working on her PADD, furiously trying to extract some information.
Her eyes were wide at being called on in the meeting, and she blinked a few times before she found her voice, still unsteady. “Uh, yes, sir. What do the cargo manifests for the transport ships say?”
Korvath turned back to the screen, searching for the data set. “Aha,” she said after scrolling for a few minutes. “Looks like generic engineering parts, assorted food for the journey, and…several components of old computer cores.” She frowned, focusing on the last item listed. “It lists them as marked for removal and recycling, which they say here is something the Tholians do for them. Fleet Captain?”
Crawford pulled up the manifest, scrutinizing the list. “That’s news to me.” Another moment passed while each of them examined the data. “Lieutenant Commander Scott, you don’t think they were transporting computer cores, do you?”
Abigail swallowed hard and ran through the specific items toward the end of the manifest. “They list many of them, sir. You’d blink and miss it. I think they were using the cores and a few other items to hide what was really in the cargo bays.” She turned her attention to Korvath. “Commander, did they complete a scan of the ships and the cargo bays?”
A quick check. Raelin’s lips became a thin line of annoyance. “Apparently the sensors were offline for,” she read from the report, “…unknown technical difficulties. Once the convoy departed, the sensor issues resolved.”
Crawford grumbled. “Send a copy of that to Captain Pantuso. As for what was really in those cargo holds, I’m going to guess it’s something Starfleet. Something designed to upset the Tholians.”
Abigail nodded gravely. “A Starfleet shuttle would be my first guess. Starfleet uniforms and weapons would be my second. Or both, if we’re thinking worst-case scenarios.”
Halsey picked his head up off the table, staring worryingly at Crawford. “How are we going to warn the Tholians? Put that additional detail in the report to Pantuso.”
Peter sat back in his chair, flummoxed. “We’re going to have to try. Trouble is, who says they’ll listen? I’ll get our communication team on it.” He stood, still thinking. “We need a secondary plan in case that fails. We have a general idea on where they might be.” He looked to Korvath. “I need a covert search and seize plan with Relentless as the player. Work a plan up together, quick as you can.” He left the room.
Korvath turned to the rest of the flotilla command team. “Are we really considering this plan?”
Halsey nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting the palpable fear that drifted above the room. “Always be prepared, Commander. Even if we never tap the ‘go’ button. Fleet Captain wants a plan. Let’s make a plan.”
