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Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

“...AND THE TRUTH SHALL MAKE YOU FREE.” | MITOSIS INTELLIGO, PART 2

STARDATE 57628.92
APRIL 8, 2381
0900 HRS

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Nolan @Revan

With arms crossed in front of his chest, Fisher stood just before the main holotable as it displayed a three-dimensional map of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants of the Milky Way Galaxy, centering on the Epsilon Mynos system. Federation space denoted in a navy haze, Klingon in crimson, and the path of the USS Theurgy running throughout like a blazing red fishing line cast asunder. On the viewing panel just adjacent to the table were the faces of prominent Starfleet and Federation personnel suspected or confirmed of having been infested by the Alien Parasites, most notable of which had to have been the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet himself.

“Son of a bitch.” Fisher exclaimed aloud as the distinctive memories of a time years earlier, when he’d actually met Admiral Bordson, came rushing back to him. The feeling of the CNC’s grip as he shook hands, the charismatic manner in which he spoke, the very gleam in his eyes as Anderson had introduced the two of them. None of it had raised any sense of suspicion or doubt at the time. In fact, he’d been rather swayed by Bordson’s charming personality, as he’d regaled both Anderson and Fisher with an anecdote of an impromptu fishing-trip he’d taken with the Andorian Ambassador during a diplomatic mission. He wondered if Bordson had truly been himself then, or if he’d already been under the control of one of these damnable creatures.

He felt the muscles in his lower-back tense up as stress and exhaustion continued to set in; he’d not slept well in the weeks since Anderson had keyed him in on the nightmarish scenario facing Starfleet and the Federation. It was hard not to focus on the immensity of the conspiracy. It was difficult to turn his brain off at the end of each night and ignore the myriad of branching problems that he now faced with this posting. Walking over to the nearby wall-mounted replicator he pondered for a moment what might have happened if he’d have turned down Anderson’s assignment. If he’d have refused to accept the crazy story that was the reality, he was now living in.

“Coffee. Dark roast. Black.” He wearily commanded the machine, and after it’d whirred and whizzed into existence a mug of the black stuff, Fisher retrieved it and took a deeply replenishing drink, caring not that he’d scolded his lips and tongue in the process.

‘No. Anderson knew what he was doing.’ He thought to himself as he set the mug down onto the holotable.

“He knew I wouldn’t turn this down.” He spoke softly, pressing his hands against the edge of the holotable for support as he arched his back until he felt his vertebrae supplicate. Immediately the ever-present dull pain slightly subsided. With a grunt he straightened up and grabbed the mug for a second sip, being a little more mindful of its hot contents this time. He stared at the projected map and traced the line that represented the Theurgy’s course all the way back to the heart of Federation space, past Orion.

‘What about you Hurley? Anderson bring you in on this too?’ He wondered as he focused in on the home system of the Syndicate.

“There are some who become spies for money, or out of vanity and megalomania, or out of ambition, or out of a desire for thrills.” He recited the familiar quote that his first Handler had made him memorize during the months it’d taken to hone his tradecraft as a spy. The veteran Intelligence operative had little patience for idealistic Starfleet officers like Fisher. Years of experience in the field had weathered him like an old baseball mitt left out in the sun. He’d been hard, cynical, and judgmental of Fisher from the very moment they’d met. But he’d also been the best teacher he’d ever had, learning more on how to survive and even thrive in a world of espionage; where everyone is out to get you, and kill you.

“But the malady of our time, is of those who become spies out of idealism.” He finished the quote and took another sip of his coffee, still pondering over it’s true meaning all these years later. It’d been first said by a 20th century journalist at the height of an elongated period of cold war between the Earth’s two main powers at the time, the United States of America, and the Soviet Union.

[The time is oh-eight-fifty-five.] voiced Thea, reminding Fisher of his impending meeting with the Intelligence staff of the Theurgy.

“Thank you, Thea.” He replied.

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #1
Lieutenant Zaryn Arn | CIS | Deck 5 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift  @Nolan @chXinya
[Show/Hide]

Promoted to Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer....Zaryn couldn't remember the last time he'd got a promotion so quickly after a transfer. Then again considering the mess this ship found itself in, it wasn't really a surprise they'd need to fill the ranks, especially when it came to the Intelligence division. Still as someone who'd spent his entire career working undercover ops, he still wasn't entirely sure what the hell he was supposed to do on this ship most of the time. Nor was he one for sitting behind a desk, reading reports all day and if that's what this job would entail then he would be giving it up in a heartbeat. A trait he shared with at least one of his former hosts, both of whom prefered being on the ground in the thick of the action than behind a desk.

As he made his way down the corridor towards the CIS he knew that they had a new CIO, some guy named Fisher. Zaryn was pretty sure he'd never heard of the guy but considering Anderson sent him, he must have been good at his job otherwise he wouldn't have been given the job if he wasn't up to the task, just like Anderson had hand picked Zaryn to be transferred in too. Then again maybe he was here simply because Ives needed Intelligence officers and Zaryn had already been on Aldea at the time, at the end of the day it didn't matter to him. There was a threat to the Federation and it had always been his job to handle threats so that's what he would do.

Entering the small but servicable room that made up the spies office, the Trill briefly wondered if he could access his personnel file from in here, he'd always been curious what exactly was written in there...

He quickly banished the thought when he saw his new boss standing on the opposite side of the room. "Lieutenant Commander Fisher I presume?" he said as he made his way across the room, extending his hand. "Zaryn Arn, nice to meet you." 

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #2
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Nolan @Revan

Viewscreens blanked, save for the emblem of Starfleet Intelligence, and the holotable now disabled, Fisher turned to face the door as it hissed open and the man selected to serve as his right-hand stepped through it. His personal biography had all the tell-tale signs of having been artificially emplaced by Starfleet Intelligence, meant to cover years of covert actions. Anyone who’d spent as much time as Fisher had reading and even forging those kinds of documents, knew the patterns they followed, and could make appropriate judgements thereafter. Based on what he’d read in Zaryn Arn’s case, the Trill had more than proven himself a capable field operative since his initial training stint sometime in 2374.

That was good.

Fisher was going to need field operatives of his kind; the kind that’d survived long enough to make it here. There was also the added benefit of his species. Unlike humans, who rightfully garnered a surprising amount of suspicion by sheer fact, Trill seemed to face less immediate distrust. An old friend of his had made the joke that the spots had an almost soothing effect on the eyes of non-Trill. Fisher wasn’t as sold on that as his buddy had been, but regardless, Trill had generally made excellent spies. At least he’d been hoping that stereotype would prove true in this particular case.

Setting his coffee down on the holotable, he approached the Lieutenant and accepted his handshake firmly.

“Glad to have you, Lieutenant.” He said truthfully.

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #3
[ Lt. Jonathan Byrne | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Swift  @Revan

Aldea had been a nice change from stars hips and the like, Byrne had enjoyed his stay on Aldea the first few years. However as time passed by he wondered if Starfleet had forgotten about him as he got no new updates on his task and he kept sending minimal action reports back to whomever read or not read them. He had slipped entirely into the life of his cover persona. Feeling at ease with the position he had achieved and the power that came along with it. To eventually hear the Theurgy had been in orbit had been a surprise. Both a welcome one as a weary one, his old mentor had slipped him a message about the ship. About it's goal.

Essentially, Theurgy was a way out for the intel operative. A way out of a life where he's grown old and die without actually having any purpose. That said, starships all looked alike, specially on the inside. Looking left and right at a corridor, it would have seemed that Byrne had lost his way to CIS for a brief moment and he had to chuckle to himself as he shook his head. What kind of an operative was he if he couldn't even find his bearings aboard a Federation ship. He could simply ask for Thea to guide him to CIS, though the man neglected to do so and strolled further before he got to the CIS just in the nick of time.

The doors slid open and Byrne stepped in, looking at the Trill that was supposedly the assistant chief of intelligence and his boss, Lt Cmdr Fisher. Byrne stepped inside and he nodded to the two present officers before introducing himself. "Lieutenant Jonathan Byrne. Reporting for duty." he continued to make his way over to the replicator and gave it some thought before replicating himself some tea. He waited patiently for it to materialize before taking the mug and placing himself over by a wall so he could keep an eye on the door and both men that were already in the room.

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #4
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Nolan @Revan

Fisher nodded to Zaryn as he released his grip and turned to face the door as it again hissed open, this time stepping through it was Lieutenant Jonathan Byrne, the man amongst the Aldeans. In his own career, Fisher had never been with a posting longer than three years, and that was before his time working with intelligence operations; but Byrne had been set up here in the Epsilon Mynos system for nine years. The night before, as he’d read the Lieutenant’s dossier, he’d wondered if Byrne had just given up any hope of ever being recalled from his assignment and grown resigned to his fate, or if he’d grown accustomed to it enough to not complain about it. Either way, that assignment was coming to an end now, as his skill as an infiltrator was going to be of paramount need for Fisher and the Theurgy over the course of the coming operation.

“Thank you for coming, Lieutenant Byrne.” He acknowledged.

Zaryn and Byrne were to be two of his primary splinters in the hands of those trying to maintain their grip of power. In years previous, he’d have been standing where they were now, waiting impatiently for the chance to get into the field and practice the tradecraft they’d been trained in. In fact, there might’ve still been a time when situations demanded Fisher end up in the field as an infiltration operative himself, but for the time being, he needed to be here, where he could serve as the nucleus of the Theurgy’s Intelligence Cell.

“Our Intelligence Analyst isn’t due in for another day or two, depending on her travel arrangements. So, as it is, we’re just waiting on PWO Ravenholm, and Lieutenant Quinn. Then, I’ll get started on the details of our pending operation.” He explained as he retrieved his mug of coffee from the holotable and took another sip.

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #5
[Selena Ravenholm | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | USS Theurgy] attn: @Swift @Nolan @Revan

Almost sauntering down the corridor like a giddy schoolgirl, Selena held her hands behind her back as she practically skipped her way to the newly refurbished suite set aside for her and her new compadres.  The chat she had with Ducote the night before wasn’t the biggest surprise in the world (the building of the suite itself was enough of a tip off for the cyborg that something big was happening in this field), but that she was getting assigned to work with the spooks was a bit of a dream come true.  In the past she had to avoid them (false tips often came from intel operatives trying to track down a notorious hacker), but they always had such great stories to share so to be able to sit down and collaborate with them!

Selena zipped right through the door outer door without stopping and paused before heading into the main room where the others were already gathered.  She could hear them talking in there, probably the usual greeting and pleasantries.  It only took a moment to recompose herself, shift from the giddy schoolgirl to serious professional but the change was severe.  Her eyes still glowed their steel-blue of course, but she lost the little skip in her step and assumed a more severe stance.  Her hands remained behind her back, emulating a captain she’d seen in the news years ago.  Adopting a simple smile, she was ready.  The sentence she heard right as the door opened nearly caused her to lose that composure though, it was too perfect.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear.” the analyst quipped, struggling not to laugh at the timing.  The first thing she noticed was the blank table and screens and the smile faded, that would never do.  She’ll trust the new guys for now though, but not even having a news feed?  How did they ever hope to keep abreast of everything?

 

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #6
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Nolan @Revan @GroundPetrel

The door opened just as Fisher had finished his previous sentence, and through it came the heavily augmented encryption specialist he’d be working with over the course of the coming operation. As with the others, he’d read through her file in advance and knew her expertise with computers was just a small taste of the extensive range of skills and abilities she was bringing, but it would absolutely be the most useful right off the bat. If his plan to counter the activities of the Alien Parasites was going to be at all effective, he’d need to ensure that only the right people knew about it. One slip up or a leak, and everything they were going to be working on would be ruined.

He noted the provisional rank insignia on her collar and remembered from her profile, that she’d been a Starfleet Academy drop-out. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her then, and it’d cost her a commissioned rank and several years of a potential Starfleet career. Another CIO might have been concerned about that level of curiosity his computer hacker, but not Fisher. He knew that curiosity like that would lead to the kind of intel discoveries that made waves and could mean the difference between a bad op and a good one.

“Warrant Officer. Thank you for being here.” He said as he nodded to her.

“Good. Now that we’re all here.” He said before taking one last appraisal of his new team.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Andrew Fisher, and by order of the Captain of this starship, I’ve been assigned as your new Chief Intelligence Officer.” He let his words settle for a moment before continuing. “I’ve been working in Starfleet Intelligence services for the last ten years as both a deep-cover operative, as well as an Operational Lead. For the most part, I’ll be acting as the latter rather than the former for this department.” His gaze shifted from one face to the next, as he spoke. “In the past, Operations I have presided over have specialized in covert information gathering through physical infiltration, followed by extended campaigns of sabotage based off of that actionable information.” He moved around from the holo-table that dominated the center of the CIS and approached the wall of viewers just adjacent.

“Now. You all know the score of the game, and we’re down. But there are still a few innings left to be played, and we can still make a difference in the final outcome. Maybe even things up and push into extras.” Notwithstanding his use of an old mostly defunct sport as an analogy, he figured even if they weren’t familiar with the rules of Baseball, they could reasonably still draw out the parallels and understand his meaning.

“Our enemy is a damned scary one. Capable of turning our own friends and fellows against us. And they already have, with devastating loss of life as a result.” He again let the emphasis of his words linger a short moment. “They’ve infiltrated the highest ranks of our institutions and are actively working on plans in an effort to dictate events which would undo everything we believe and hold dear. Worse still, all current intel leads us to believe in their truly vicious and unrelenting nature, in that the only thing they seek, is the annihilation of all sentient life. Everywhere.”

Turning back to the many viewscreens, Fisher touched a command panel to reactivate it.

The faces of all the many confirmed infested suddenly spilling across the large viewers, reading like a veritable who’s who list of the most influential and powerful people in and around Starfleet Command and beyond. However, there were other faces that spread across the screen as well. Dozens of them, strung along like the connecting strands of a spider-web. Men and women of various species and backgrounds. Some were old, others young. Some wore the uniform of Starfleet; others were simple civilians who worked in one form or another under those primary highlighted faces. Fisher himself looked over the many faces on the viewer, then back to his people as they listened.

“Take a good look. Because these are the faces of those we’re going to be working against. Regardless of the parasites ability to control and dictate the actions of our most powerful leaders, they still rely on those around them to follow orders and carry out whatever plans they’ve put in place. Those people are vulnerable, and we will seize on that vulnerability.” There was a forebodingness to Fisher’s tone, and though he recognized it himself, he wasn’t about to go down the same dark path others might have. Sure, he was advocating for action to be taken against seemingly innocent people, who had only been caught up in the harsh reality of working for and supporting an unknowable threat, but there was a limit to what he would sign off on. He and Ives had seen eye-to-eye in that regard, that sacrificing who they were for a means to an end, simply wasn’t acceptable.

“We will disrupt their capability to act effectively. We will stall their plans. We will buy the necessary time for Science, Engineering, and even our own efforts to uncover a means to permanently unbind their tendrils, eliminating entirely their ability to affect their plans.”

His attention shifted to that of Arn, and Byrne. “Like me, I’m sure the two of you have contacts, and assets in place from previous operations, tasks, and missions that you’ve run in the field. I’m not going to order you to give that information over to me, as I understand the risk of compromise associated with it, but I am asking that you start putting out your feelers with them, so that if we need them, we know who to call, when and where. You’re also going to want to brush up on any cover IDs that aren’t blown or adopt new ones if necessary. Standard prep work for potential field insertion in the event that we come across actionable intel.” He was going over a lot that they probably already understood, and were working on as it was, but it still needed to be said. Too much was at stake for assumptions to be made.

His eyes went to Ravenholm next. “Warrant Officer, you’ll need to facilitate communication channels as necessary for them. We can’t risk exposing whatever networks we still have in place, so secure encryption is an absolute must. Additionally, we’re going to need to access and implant clearance documents wherever they’re needed, so be prepared to assist in that field prep work.” He paused a moment to look over the long list of tasks that he’d outlined forwarded on by their Commanding Officer, then back to the myriad of faces. “I also need you to coordinate with our new Intel Analyst when she arrives, and start sifting through all the details of these people. We’re going to need to know who to strike against, which means identifying the patterns and associated with each.”

Fisher then went quiet as his face turned even more serious.

“There’s one last thing before we move on. I need to emphasize that while we all understand what is at stake here, we will not compromise who we are, or the integrity of the uniform we wear in order to simply achieve our goals. I don’t care how this department operated before me, but it will not operate without oversight, or accountability from this point on. The decisions you make have consequences. You’re Starfleet Officers first, Intelligence Officers second. Remember that, and we won’t have any problems. If there’s something you’re not certain on, run it by me. That’s the way it is from now on. If this is a problem, speak up now.”

He went quiet again, giving them a chance to indeed speak up if they had problems with what he was saying.

Re: Day 29 [0900 hrs.] - “...shall make you free.” | Mitosis Intelligo, P2

Reply #7
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 05 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @chXinya @GroundPetrel

The Chief Intelligence Officer’s calculating gaze trailed over each of the faces of his newest staff as they attentively absorbed the concepts and directive that he’d intended to lead the Intelligence Department in exploration of. If they were to be unfairly labeled as ‘terrorists’ and ‘outlaws’, then he would in some respects ensure that they lived up to that reputation. They would impede the ability of their enigmatic enemy to bring the Galaxy to its knees in full embrace of open war, hopefully allowing Science and or Medical the time they needed to discover a means of removing this parasitic infection from hosts. For though the vassals of the ‘Nameless Darkness’ sought to eliminate Theurgy, with the utmost brutal and violent of means, they couldn’t and should have been held accountable for actions that were not of their will or doing. They were innocent, just as Theurgy was, of the monstrous ramifications of this plot to sew discord, destruction, and death across the entirety of civilized space. And as long as Fisher was in charge, he would at least ensure that he and his people acted within the best interests, and intentions of the United Federation of Planets.

By any measure, it was to be no small task, monumental if anything. And his demand that they rise to be counted as worthy of the Starfleet uniform they each wore; remaining firm in their stance on the right side of morality, would likely lead to difficulties not experienced by those with more flexible ideas and different priorities.

As silence seemed to pervade between him and his staff, only broken by the ever-constant ambient thrum of a Federation starship, Fisher offered a simple nod of acknowledgement. They understood and had for the moment no objections to this course of action.

“Very well.” With a gentle motioning of his hand, he alluded to a series of PADDs laid out on his desk, three specifically. “Your individual orders are contained within, in writing if you so wish to document for your own account. Just remember, that we are an Intelligence Service. These orders, if compromised could lead to further difficulties for us down the line, if not the outright failure of our mission, the deaths of our comrades aboard this ship, and the annihilation of all civilized life in the Galaxy.” He knew how dreadful and imposing his warning was, but within it was an absolute truth. The need for secrecy was paramount, because one slip up could potentially spell doom for his operation, and by extension Theurgy’s mission. As functionaries of him and his Department, he would trust them to exercise the necessary precaution with relaying the content of this new Operation. But trust of the rest of the crew was something that would need to be earned and vetted beyond any reasonable doubt.

“With vigilance, and a hell of a lot of hard work on our part, we can and will turn the tide in our favor.” Though he himself couldn’t even be sure of how much he believed in the potential positive outcomes of their mission, he knew he couldn’t afford to let it show now. He could only afford to demonstrate absolute confidence in them, their abilities, and their chances. So, with his best practiced poker face, he offered them each a reassuring, if ever-so-slightly false grin which betrayed only a convincing belief on his part, that they would succeed. Internally however, Fisher could feel a knot of apprehension and mounting concern for these people who would entrust in him to make the right decisions when the time came. Decisions that may or may not lead to their deaths, and perhaps even the fate of the Galaxy itself. It was an incredible weight to shoulder, but he knew he could, and he would shoulder it. If not for himself, then for them.

At the same time, another realization crossed his mind; that perhaps it was fated for the Galaxy to end. That this was to be the culmination of everything, and everyone, consigning them to oblivion. That the people standing before him now, would each in turn give their lives, only to later discover that their efforts were in vain from the very onset.

Clenching his fist, Fisher felt an indignant defiance well up within him. He didn’t believe in fate, and even it existed, he would stare it in its face until the very last breath he drew.

“Dismissed.” He said simply as he unclenched his fist.

-FIN

 
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