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Topic: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1 (Read 5204 times) previous topic - next topic
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CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

“IF YOU WANT PEACE...” | ARTIBUS INTELLIGO, PART 1

STARDATE 57654.16
APRIL 18, 2381
1000 HRS

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan

The stakes were raised across the board, and betting odds certainly weren’t in their favor, but there were still yet moves to be made in this contest for the fate of the Galaxy. In truth, Fisher hated thinking in such grandiose ways as it made the whole affair feel that much more imposing, and to an extent that grander scope view was above his paygrade. Generally speaking, he had dealt with relatively isolated operations which were of course part of a broader picture, but he had no view outside of that which was directly tasked to him. Call it a modus operandi of the effective compartmentalization of Starfleet Intelligence; a deliberate effort meant to ensure that if one Intelligence Cell was compromised, it wouldn’t then in turn compromise all the others which were tied to it. Do your job, and those above you will ensure that everyone else is likewise doing theirs, and the mission will succeed. But that approach really only worked when you were a small cog in machine, as opposed to the only cog in this one. There were no other elements at play for Theurgy and its mission to expose the parasitic infestation of the highest echelons of power in the Galaxy.

There was no one else working this problem, especially now that their lone inside source at Starfleet Commander had been discovered.

What further exacerbated the matter was the ongoing issue plaguing Theurgy’s lone remaining ally of any significance, the current reigning Klingon High Chancellor. His claim to the seat of ultimate power within the Klingon Empire had come under fire, quite literally in fact, as his rivals sought to capitalize on the fact that he had allied himself with declared enemies of the Federation, and by effect enemies of the Empire. The hour would soon ring out with an emphasis as conflict ignited in the form of yet another Klingon Civil War, with the Theurgy right dead smack in the middle of it all. It was almost poetic when all things were considered. But while Gorka’s forces would clash with Martok’s own, the High Chancellor would be ferried in secret aboard the Sabine with a select few at his side, hopefully arriving at Qo’nos prior to that of his would-be usurper, where he could make his case to the Houses and bring and end to this wasteful war that had been manifested by an avarice for power.

Simply put, Theurgy was going to need to make roads in the way of new allies, and quickly. Even if Martok managed to retain his status, with the way things were unfolding on the path to all-out war between the Federation and the Romulans, Theurgy would still need more help if there was going to be any chance at subverting the devastating plans of the Nameless Darkness.

Hence, Fisher figured it about high-time he and his department did more than just ‘point the way’ as they had been doing since his arrival some two-weeks prior. It was time to go on the offensive and make real headway in dictating the outcome of this Galactic crisis. Sure, espionage was a big part of their game, but there were other aspects of it which had yet to be fully utilized. And when he made the determination to move forward with this effort, he knew the right people to approach about it were those which worked so closely with Intelligence handlers, and whom relied on the information and less sordid capabilities of spies: it was time to rekindle the working symbiosis that existed between Intelligence, and Diplomacy. So it was, with his Diplomatic counterpart’s approval no less, that Fisher and two of his subordinates would meet with, and coordinate efforts alongside the Theurgy Diplomatic Corps. Maybe then, they could make the strides necessary to the success of this mission.

At this point, there was no merit to leaving any stones unturned.

Exiting a turbolift on Deck 02, the sage-eyed spy walked alone down the short corridor which led to the Diplomatic Council Offices. He was more than aware that Koilos and Pierce were coming right from the second Intelligence directed interview with Doctor Nicander, and although he’d received a preliminary report of that interview, he hadn’t yet had a chance to review it in full for relative details and information which might be of value in this meeting. Their presence was therefore dictated by necessity not just once, but twice, as both of them also had personal and professional histories relevant to the Romulans and Klingons respectively, and as such represented a wealth of insight on the matter. Still, he if he’d preceded them there, and who from her own people Sam might have asked to join in on this meeting of the minds. Perhaps if he arrived early enough, he could afford a momentary sentiment of familiarity toward the Chief Diplomatic Officer, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it outright.

It was time to once more adopt the psyche of ‘Alpha-Spy’ and embrace some of the less pleasant aspects of his profession.

“Si vis pacem...” he said softly as the doors to the Diplomatic Council Offices opened, and he stepped through them, ready to start to this phase of preparations for what he could only assume to be a rather lengthy campaign aimed against their enigmatic foes.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #1 –
[ Lt Jordan Koilos | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan
[Show/Hide]
Jordan stood in the turbolift, hands clenched behind his back, mind awash with the interview they’d just finished. He’d hardly had time to really process anything when both he and Alana had been summoned to a meeting between the intelligence and diplomatic departments. Surely, they hadn’t been called to report already. No. That wasn’t it. If they had, it would have been to just the CIO initially. They’d have to go over what had been said and fish out the relevant information before passing on anything to the captain and the rest of the senior staff. No. This was something else.

He didn’t speak during the relatively short ride, eyes focused on the doors but mind far, far, far away from the ship. Given the situation the crew found themselves in with delivering the High Chancellor to Qo’noS and the recent attack on Earth, it was far more likely the meeting was related to more current events rather than possible future ones. Either way, the former Borg would keep his mouth shut unless ordered. He hadn’t even met the Chief Diplomatic Officer Samantha Rutherford, let alone formed an even remote opinion of her. Could she be trusted? Was she a potential security risk? Fisher seemed to think she was reliable, though his opinion could have been clouded. This meeting would be telling one way or another.

The turbolift doors opened just in time for the two of them to see Lieutenant Commander Andrew Fisher, their boss, enter the diplomatic offices just ahead of them. He was saying something to himself rather quietly and if it hadn’t been for his implants, Jordan wouldn’t have heard it.

”Si vis pacem….”

”Para bellum.” Jordan whispered to himself, finishing the phrase. So they were preparing for war then? Perhaps the Theurgy would finally be proactive rather than reactive on this ship. Up until now, as far as Jordan could tell, the crew of this ship had been playing catch up rather than trying to get ahead. A cycle that had to be broken sooner rather than later. Given the resourses of the ship, Jordan had been…somewhat unimpressed. Such a vessel should have been on the offensive. What’s more, they should have had proper gear. Was the Captain holding onto some idea that they were still explorers?

Koilos left the turblolift first, leaving the question unanswered in his mind, following after Fisher down the hallway. Let’s see who else decided to show…

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
[Show/Hide]


Lyshanian Lavender, Samantha was sure of it, was the sweet, herbal scent that invaded her subtly flaring nostrils. Like a dainty baby deer, standing on its weak legs for the first time, amidst the flowers of a spring meadow, as the morning mist faded away. Her partly Vulcan senses very astutely filtering the odor from the conditioned air, like a bloodhound would the fear of its prey. Though the sensation was a favorable one and the breath of sweetness a welcome distraction, it stood at odds with the professionality and the brittleness of the place – the Diplomatic Council. Letting the large pad sink to the superfice of her crossed long legs, the blonde officer’s vibrant blue hues flickered over the extent of the circular room and the few people working diligently at their stations. A calm atmosphere, for the most part, as she had fostered it. Some may have called it cold. Well, people tended to work harder in the proverbial cold, than they would in an environment that was too “warm”. Yet there was still the olfactory insubordination, challenging her superiority as the chief of this department, coming from a personal grooming product or rather flamboyant choice of replicator adjustment in terms of garment “freshness”.

Individuality … the downfall of the debonair principles upon which diplomacy was built. But judging by the chronometer on the bottom right corner of her idle computer screen, it was yet too early for a general refresher of her own. It was, however, about time to get ready to host the small delegation from the intelligence department. Embedding the current files on her PADD with all the comments and sidenotes made, placing both legs in neat parallel before pushing out of the comfortable leather chair, which headed the circle of desks embracing a center console, the commander circled around and into the amphitheater of diplomatic efforts aboard Theurgy, stopping behind crewman Bishop, on her way. Letting the imposing energy of her mere presence alert the young man to attention, she raised her brow with a validating smile as it so did. Extending the pad, red markings and notes visible across the illuminated board, the women drew if only the faintest pleasure in his somewhat disillusioned deflation, broad shoulders shriveling ever so little. People learned from mistakes, not successes. Successes bore complacency and, in many cases, superiority … the slippery precipice to error. Which could in turn prove educational.

“Most of it are apostrophes …” she explained, relating to the vibrant prompts to imperfection. “… they are Klingons, after all. A Klingon without an apostrophe is like a Romulan without a deep-seated ocean of insecurities, masked by passive aggressive hostility, obscured in snide courteousness.” Samantha added, a comedic reverberation, dancing across her vocal cords. Patting the crewman’s shoulder gently, as she moved back into momentum. The moderately coarser, slightly padded grey fabric, distinctive against her fingertips. As the statuesque figure, however, moved on in her stark-black catsuit, adorned by the same grey shoulder-bar and brilliant red collar, a gust of sweet, herbal remedy followed her shift. Furrowing those brows, with the slightly Vulcan incline, the blonde brought up her hand, previously appropriated to convey a sense of care, now resembling a bouquet of flowery lavender. Huh, curious. Shaking the digits off in a futile, yet somewhat psychologically soothing manner, the diplomat head on towards the large glass pane that adorned the opposite side of the former flag bridge and the conference room brightly lit beyond.

Her slender figure reflected in part, like a succulent wraith, before the mirage slid into a hidden pocket along the side of the passage, opening up part of the translucent wall. A gentle, audible whiff of air agitated by the swift movement. As the sesame slit shut once more, it felt like the tether of sensory connection to the outside world was suddenly cut, all sounds beyond instantly dying off. Acutely aware of the reverberations of each step, the shuffling of fabric, the staccato of dura-plast, as she picked up one of the tablets, neatly stacked by an aid, to peruse the agenda for the meeting. “Computer, switch off noise suppression.” she ordered, subsequently, finding the dead quiet a little bit too eerie, becoming exceedingly subconscious of every bodily noise. Momentarily, the comfortable hum of the ship’s systems, flooded the room again, like an equatorial tide. Remaining upright, looking out the glass panes ever so briefly, she noticed L’Nari moving to pick up the intelligence delegation from the anteroom and only entrance. Turning, shaking her blonde curls back like branches on a weeping cherry tree, the commander called the large viewscreen on the back wall to attention by flicking the data from her PADD towards it … a plethora of windows sparking across the luminous surface, dipping her pate and physique into a fireworks of colors and motion.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #3 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | ATTN: @Argyros  @stardust  @Argyros  @Nesota Kynnovan  @Swift
[Show/Hide]

Pierce stood in the turbolift beside Jordan, her hands clasped behind her back as well. She'd never been involved with an 'interview' like this before. Then again, there really wasn't all that much time to interpret anything either with the abrupt follow-up meeting happening shortly. The information definitely is needing some...interpretation.

Alana glanced over at Jordan who was lost in thought. She returned to also staring into the void of the turbolift. Hell, she couldn't blame him at all. The shit this crew, ship, and generation has been through was enough to drive a man mad. The universe was such a smaller place back in the 23rd century.

Supposedly they were to meet with the department head of the Diplomatic office onboard the ship, someone named Commander Rutherford, and their immediate CO, Lt. Commander Fisher. The turbolift opened and she heard Fisher say something quickly and a brief whisper from Jordan but couldn't catch quite what it was. It sounded almost...Latin? She wasn't exactly sure what was going on from the viewpoint of the bridge or overall mission but from what she'd experienced and heard so far, this ship and her crew were public enemy number one for a variety of reasons.

Lt. Koilos exited the turbolift and Pierce released her grasp behind her back. She straightened her gray shouldered, red collared shirt out first to remove any wrinkle or blemish of movement from it and worked her way down to her skirt. Luckily environmental controls kept her from being cold with her legs partially exposed below the thigh to the knee. She thought eventually that she needed to get a uniform with some pants lest she is compared to a yeoman.

Alana followed pace into the hall behind the other two men. She wasn't sure who these other people were as she only just met most of them today. No time like the present to get introduced she thought. Also, a good opportunity to show what she can provide to the situation.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #4 –
[Ensign L'Nari | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy] Attn: @stardust @Swift @Argyros @Pierce

While L’Nari was still tired from her little away mission the other day, which produced... adequate results depending on whose point of view you took into consideration, the young Diplomatic Attaché had shown up at the Diplomatic Council Offices early. It was the second day in a row that she’d arrived before her shift actually started and the black-furred Caitian actually smiled a little when she considered that it might become a bad habit she should be mindful of, but considering everything that happened L’Nari knew that it would be best to file her mission report as soon as possible.

Not that personal bias had anything to do with it.

Probably the best thing about the Diplomatic Offices, in that regard, was how quiet and utmost serene it was. To L’Nari, it was a peaceful place, perfect to recollect her thoughts and focus her complete attention on the work she tried to get done. In fact, it wasn’t until Lieutenant Commander Rutherford approached her, just as she was roughly halfway through her report, that the Caitian Ensign was pulled back to reality and realized it was close to 1000 hours, give or take a few minutes; she’d been working on her report for several hours already, and the time passed without L’Nari ever realizing it. The following conversation with the Chief Diplomatic Officer was a very brief one, in which L’Nari was asked to keep an eye out for visitors of the Intelligence Department and escort them to the anteroom when they arrived. That, and if she could join them in the anteroom. It was the kind of conversation that made the black-furred Caitian somewhat uneasy, knowing that nothing good could ever come out of a private meeting with Starfleet Intelligence, but she acknowledged the request and within a matter of minutes the young Diplomatic Attaché had turned her attention back to her report, be it a little less focused as she kept an ear out for the signature sound of a door hissing open.

She didn’t had to wait very long. At precisely 1000 hours, according to the small chronometer in the upper right corner of her PADD’s screen, the doors of the Diplomatic Council Offices hissed open and L’Nari was met with the sight of a Lieutenant Commander walking in. Knowing that the man probably didn’t need their help for a first contact situation on a planet made entirely of chocolate, L’Nari resigned herself to her fate and began to approach the man with a friendly smile one usually reserved for the Medical Department when showing up for a dental appointment. Before she reached the man, he was flanked by two Lieutenants; leave it to Starfleet Intelligence to be punctual, at least. ”Commander, Lieutenants.” As she spoke, the tone of L’Nari’s Caitian-accented voice matched the friendly smile on her face. ”I’m Ensign L’Nari, Commander Rutherford has asked me to escort you to the anteroom.” She took a step aside and gestured in the direction of the large glass pane on the far side of the office. ”If you would be so kind as to follow me.” With those words, L’Nari turned around and began to make her way towards the anteroom. Aside from their sense of punctuality, the Caitian Ensign also noticed that something could be said about Starfleet Intelligence’s sense of style; just like her, the female Lieutenant was also wearing a skirt and while L’Nari always wore one simply because the pants felt uncomfortable and restrictive against the fur of her legs, it was nevertheless a style she approved of.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #5 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan 

Left to his own devices for only the briefest of moments, Fisher thought for an instant of venturing beyond the level of this welcoming antechamber, as while there was a receptionist desk, the receptionist was decidedly absent. However, considering how new and tenuous the relationship between the Intelligence Department and Diplomatic Corps was, he opted against making such an intrusive gesture. This was their home field, not his, and he imagined he might not have appreciated such an encroachment if the situation had been reversed.

The right decision indeed, as almost simultaneously the doors behind him and to his fore parted to give way to both his immediate subordinates, and what he could only assume to be the vanguard sent on behalf of Commander Rutherford to greet him and said retinue. Punctuality was a shared trait among the departments it seemed, though that may well have been a reaction to the imperative crisis unfolding around them with each passing second. All the same, Fisher appreciated that he wouldn’t be made to wait. As the black-furred Ensign stopped before him, peaking back over his shoulder for a moment to appraise both Koilos and Pierce, he nodded in acknowledgement of L’Nari’s invitation to follow. “Thank you, Ensign. Lead on.” He fell in behind the Caitian, sage-green orbs peering out over the spacious confines of the former Flag Bridge, and the Positronic Brain at the center of it all. Sure, the facility had clearly been recently renovated, but it’s previous primary occupant still remained nestled at its center. Thea’s one true connection to this physical world, and something of an ominous presence at the heart of a place meant to feel neutral and instill a sense of calmness.

For a second, he considered how odd it was that the Diplomatic Corps were still playing second-guest to the room and weren’t instead privy to an entirely customized location of their own, just as Fisher and his Department had been so fortunate to possess.

Keeping his thoughts to himself on the matter, he instead crossed the short distance as L’Nari led him and the others through the circular anteroom where all around them were a number of Diplomatic personnel situated at their stations. As his now instinctual but very much trained skills of observation and surveillance began to kick in, they soon lent themselves to his already keen gaze helping to subconsciously register a multitude of information reports as they were pouring in. Since none of it triggered any immediate attention or alert in his fore-conscious he felt confident that he could trust all of it to be nothing out of the scope of what he already knew. And while others might have also felt a sense of pride at having such knowledge, Fisher felt only annoyance as it meant that they were operating with as little to go on as he was. However, there was also the recognition that the cooperation between his Department and the Diplomatic Corps was at least functioning on that degree already. Too often in the past he had worked in Intelligence gathering operations which failed to appraise their Diplomatic comrades of vital information. Disasters had occurred as a result of such arrogance and ignorance, and given the situation facing Theurgy, he couldn’t afford to allow such practices to crop up here.

As the transparent dividers swung open to allow admittance to Fisher and the others, the veteran spy strode in and found sight of his counterpart standing at the wall-mounted viewer, backlit by luminescent image displays and scrolling text relevant to their meeting.

“Commander.” He afforded Sam a formal greeting, overtly aware of the necessity to maintain professional appearances when in the company of his and her subordinates. He was determined to steel himself from any lingering emotions of over familiarity, and act his part appropriately. Turning his shoulder a moment as his entered after him, he motioned with a hand to each of them in turn. “This is Lieutenant Jordan Koilos, one of my Assistant Chiefs; and Lieutenant Alana Pierce, one of my operatives, and someone with an extensive history involving Klingons.” Jordan hadn’t required explanation as to his being in attendance, as his title made his requisite presence clear. “I appreciate you moving this meeting up on your schedule. I know we had originally discussed it taking place later this week, but given the imperative situation, I think acting with alacrity is more than justified.” Pulling a smaller PADD from his left back pocket, Fisher punched up a number of items which demanded discussion, as well as a list of assets and contacts currently in play throughout the Intelligence network that he and his fellows had been working to establish over the course of the previous two weeks. Still in its youth, that network was sure to be tested now that their hand had been forced by Gorka and his attempt to seize power.

“Are there others from your Department to join us or is this everyone?” he looked to L’Nari, remembering some of the pertinent details he had read from her personnel file in advance of this meeting. He had of course requested of Sam that this meeting be relatively light in terms of the number of personnel included in it, and as such wasn’t immediate aware of who might be joining them from her department.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
[Show/Hide]


Coming aboard Theurgy had been an adjustment, like a resilient, little herb, being transplanted into a rocky desert. An environment Samantha had to learn to adapt to, digging her roots deep into the seemingly infertile soil, finding water und nutrition far below. A constant struggle against the elements, holding on by the sheer strength of her convictions, flickering in the storm like a candle, but never going out. A world without the guidance and security, Starfleet and the Federation exuded onto their citizens and officers, in an almost parental capacity. Well, they had, for the most part, which had turned into a sense of illusion, with new revelations dawning … much like growing up in a broken house would. Slowly peeling away the veneers of perfection and expectation, to find the dark, egoistic notions beneath. So yes, the diplomat had to adapt. Not only to a new reality, but the environment it created, which she was now drifting through, like a fish in turbulent rapids. Adjusted to the way of living, overwhelmed still, by the unexpected twists and turns in the stream. Bashed and bruised, here and there, but relentless in that evolutionary notion of finding the promised sanctuary upstream, as so many generations before her had. That absolution of there always being an equilibrium, when all was said and done.

But then there was also another situation, the blonde had to yet grow accustomed to. Which was the whole relationship unfolding between her and Commander Fisher. Something more akin to a resilient herb in the middle of a brush fire of passion, than simply an inhospitable wasteland. Which ironically was how this thing had started to go sideways, wasn’t it, a brush fire of passion. Paired with the bleak outlook of a rocky desert to thrive in, that had just been out to obliterate you in a meteor strike, had compounded emotions of loneliness and fear, into an intoxicating mix that now, in the cold light of day, felt slightly mawkish. These were the things the blond head to come to terms with. Her duty, above all else, impairing any sense of immediate reconciliation, as the drought stretched on, while little time remained to come to terms with what it all meant, in the grander scheme of things. Outside the odds and trials of impending doom, on multiple fronts. But rather as a notion between two people, detached from everything else. As she could sense the growing frustration in the man, while it was not the only tribulation on his front either. Because it wasn’t only in diplomacy, that the promise of better times, down the road, became stale like old bread, the longer it sat idly on the table.

Hearing the gentle zip of the glass door, as it slid along its guides, Samantha’s slender figure was no immediately ready to move and turn around. Muscles idling, while her mind had to be made up what expression to convey initially. It was a sentiment, that incredible amounts of deliberation went into for a diplomat, aware of the first impression, creating the chemistry for the entire negotiation. Yet hearing the CIOs formal introduction, the woman was aided immensely in determining her proper reaction. Turning around with a gentle, honest smile on her plump lips, like two fallen rose-petals, settling into a lush meadow, the blond conveyed most of her greeting in return by the nod of her brows, above a twinkle of turquoise, in azure eyes. Too being carried across the necessity of more immediate pleasantries, by the man’s introductions of his team, the commander let her warm eyes trail over the candidates assembled. A certain relentlessness habitually burning behind cool-blue veneers. Not being able to map faces to past encountered, she was certainly able to match personnel files with names, off the top of her head, immediately. A former Borg not being the only thing the two department heads seemed to share. And as the pitter patter of professionalism went on, pelting her like warm spring rain, it almost washed a similar air away, revealing a slight sense of amusement instead, on the diplomat.

“Well, take a seat everyone, glad you could join us. Ensign Danvers is currently out on an assignment, but might join us later, to add our own Klingon insights.” she invited, slight jab included, motioning a delicate hand across the shiny expanse of the meeting table. “Help yourself to a PADD, if you didn’t bring one, and any beverages you might require.” Nodding with pleasant reassurance, the slender blonde gracefully moved around the table and past behind the intelligence delegation, leaving a trail of gentle perfume, which stood at stark odds with her subsequent comment. “I just ask it be nothing too fragrant, my Vulcan senses are asserting themselves a little more prominently than most days.” Which was a valid request to make, by a department head on her own home turf … not that she needed such absolution. She made her way straight for the replicator, lips curled in the faint delight of immediate silence to her query, which could easily be taken as initial perplexity. Perfect. Feeling the commander move up beside her, in some distance, as she woke the device from its initial slumber, she gave him a curious, momentary side-glance. Those slightly inclined, partly Vulcan brows, furrowing ever so lightly across peach skin, while azure blue attention moved back to the glowing alcove in the wall.

"One herbal tea, ginger and ginseng." she ordered ritually. The machine acknowledging with a chirp, processing the request into a glass cup of steaming, amber liquid, out a snowy whirlwind of glowing flakes. All while Andrew was hovering suspiciously nearby. Slipping dainty digits around the delicate mug, subtle chinking against the saucer, Samantha noticed the way his thick brows drew together, like caterpillars in love, yet significant of a rather opposing notion. His sage orbs shifting between the beverage and her face, somewhat incredulous, she was dumbstruck as to whether he seriously considered it to be a surprise, that she had ordered the same thing she’d proclaimed to love, back on the shuttle. So, after a short moment of contemplation, and subsequent dismissal, she muttered: “Weirdo.” while making her way back to her opposite end of the large table, sipping precariously on the thin glass rim, steps deliberately shallow and even. Ultimately settling comfortably in the head chair, leaning back, with the cup and saucer resting amidst delicate fingers in her lap. Blue eyes rising back to the group in attention, the blonde shook her faint curls back, as a way to relax herself into the onset of the meeting.

“So, I understand the current sentiment on the bridge is to send Gorka’s dirty laundry to our undecided Klingon friends, in order to rally more allies.” The chief diplomat reiterated matter-of-factly, to those who were not immediately privy to the goings on, at the top of Theurgy. The cold logic of Vulcan judgment, dripping of every word. Placing her tea on the table with a subtle chink, the blonde crossed her fingers into a basket, arms stretching out lightly across the shiny surface, as she leaned forward. “Now, I am sure a Romulan might appreciate such subversive intent, but the Klingons would certainly see it as just another token of our dishonorable untrustworthiness.” Letting blue orbs drift to Lieutenant Pierce, a solitary digit escaped the knurl of her hands, casually wiggling her way. “Undoubtedly our experts can back me up on that.” And while coaxing forth a sense – maybe even a few words – of reassurance, the commander would be fine in her convictions without it. “So, what can we do to make that message sound less like us dishonoring one of the highest decorated officials in the Empire?” she paused. “Maybe we’re in no position to make such claims? If I have learned anything during my years in the diplomatic corps, then that you are nothing without credibility.” Another pause ensued, as the blonde let a sense of apology cast across her dainty features, in light of jumping ahead of a diligently planned itinerary, that Andrew had already transferred onto the large viewscreen. “I am sorry to push this matter, but I have to make a recommendation to Commander Stark, on how to proceed here.”

Leaning back once more, disregarding the subtly fragrant cup of tea, Samantha crossed her legs and rested intertwined hands atop. Blue eyes gauging the room, especially Fisher, if only for a sense of reassurance, that he and his team had answers where she didn’t.

“Speak freely.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #7 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | [Show/Hide]
| ATTN: @Argyros @stardust @Swift @Nesota Kynnovan

The diplomatic council offices were a new site for Pierce since arriving in this century. Many things were different as much of these new positions such as Diplomat was usually left to the Captain, an Admiral, or an Ambassador. But here they were. Suffice it to say, she noted the Caitian taking note of her garments and nodded a curt smile in approval of their uniforms matching in that they were skirts. Truth be told, Pierce mostly sided with having a skirt as it was disarming for her male counterparts, and also not having anything that restricting made her more comfortable at least when on standard duty.

She stood with Fisher and Koilos as they approached the Chief Diplomatic Officer, Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford. Alana was intrigued by the young woman as she was alluring and yet very stoic and business-oriented. Could be the time and need of details or could simply be something else...maybe more Vulcan in nature? Nevertheless, Fisher introduced them to her and she eyed Pierce after hearing the Klingon knowledge she had acquired over the years having infiltrated and worked among them more recently.

The pointer finger of Rutherford had motioned Pierce forward towards her after mentioning the differences in intent between a Romulan and a Klingon. She took note of how the woman handled herself so calmly as she spoke and drank her tea. "So, I understand the current sentiment on the bridge is to send Gorka's dirty laundry to our undecided Klingon friends, in order to rally more allies. Now, I am sure a Romulan might appreciate such subversive intent, but the Klingons would certainly see it as just another token of our dishonorable untrustworthiness. Undoubtedly our experts can back me up on that." she heard the blonde officer state.

Taking her queue from the diplomat, she answered her. "Exactly sir. Klingons don't mind direct confrontations and deciding in battle, but our actions will speak more clearly in how honorable we are. If we go playing recordings against Gorka, all we're going to do is end up with a bigger target on our backs. How we speak to them and how we react will decide who's side they'll ultimately lie with in this engagement." She took note of the many officers looking at her. Licking her wet lips, she swallowed quickly and directed their attention to the Klingon fleet. "I would suggest we have one of Martok's allies or a high ranking council member of an unaligned house point the finger at Gorka while we work to defend Martok's honor as Chancellor."

Alana Pierce, took this time to wait and see how the two department heads decided to ultimately handle this, as one would lead to the Great Houses hostility among each other instead of us, and the other with our ship in pieces with all hands against us.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #8 –
[Ensign L'Nari | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy] Attn: @stardust @Swift @Argyros @Pierce

As L’Nari sat down in one of the empty chairs, she took a sip from the glass of water she’d replicated earlier and quietly listened to Lieutenant Commander Rutherford as the woman spoke up. If she was completely honest the subject of undermining Gorka was hitting just a little bit too close to home for comfort, and the black-furred Caitian put her glass of water down on the table in front of her while she recalled how she and the rest of the small away team she’d been a part of came perilously close to dying aboard the IKS May’siq less than eighteen hours earlier. For a brief moment the young Diplomatic Attaché turned her green eyes towards the Chief Diplomatic Officer, hoping to confirm that her direct superior wasn’t making a stab at their failed attempt to win Daa’maq’s loyalty, and a small smile began to adorn L’Nari’s face when she saw that the other woman was doing no such thing.

Reaching out for her glass and taking another sip of water, L’Nari turned her attention to the PADD in front of her and quickly made some notes while the female Intelligence Officer, Lieutenant Pierce, spoke up. The young Diplomatic Ensign could –sadly- confirm from first-hand experience that they would need something more convincing than recordings and hear-say, and when the Lieutenant finished L’Nari cleared her throat and stood up.

”I have to agree with Lieutenant Pierce. That is, about playing recordings against Gorka. We tried to confront Daa’maq with intelligence that his sister Eriska was plotting to kill him and, following Daa’maq’s demise, pledge their House to Gorka. You might have read my report about it by now.” As she spoke, L’Nari’s Caitian-accented voice managed to sound remarkably confident. It was surprising, given how uncomfortable she actually felt while she was standing there; possibly because of her inexperience with actually taking an active role in meetings like these, as opposed to sitting on the sidelines and taking notes for the higher-ranking Diplomatic Staff like she’d done during her time as a Diplomatic Attaché at the Federation Embassy in Paris. ”We had no real proof except rumours and hear-say, nothing to back up our claim to Daa’maq that his own sister was trying to kill him, and you can probably imagine just how well he took that. Klingons have a tendency to become... dramatic when the honour of their House is compromised like that, especially without proof.” The smile that had adorned her face earlier now came back to adorn it once more, only further accentuating the humour she tried to bring to the meeting with her understatement about the Klingon flair for drama. ”I’m not someone who likes to dwell on the past, but if it weren’t for subterfuge there’s a distinct possibility that Eriska would now be wearing my fur as a pair of gloves.” L’Nari turned her green-eyed attention to Commander Rutherford. ”Regardless, what I’m trying to say is that we shouldn’t dismiss subterfuge outright. Depending on how Daa’maq decides to act on the knowledge that Gorka tried to have him killed, we might have a valuable ally thanks to our Romulan subversive intent. Respectfully, of course.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #9 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan

Like an old salt peering out over an eerie calm sea in advance of an encroaching tempest, the Chief Intelligence Officer keenly understood that the endeavor these two departments were about to embark upon was one that would likely be rife with conflict and disagreement. Given the tenuous situation which Theurgy seemed to perpetually exist within, it made only perfect sense that the same tone would carry over into such a meeting. After all, the relationship between Intelligence and Diplomacy, though closely tied together, was one that generally entailed distrust of the utmost kind. The Diplomats disliked the manner in which Intelligence Operatives would interfere with more passive and natural efforts at peace, while the flipside of that coin viewed their counterparts as enablers, apologists, and obstructionists to far a surer means to an end. There were of course a litany of other reservations that each had held with regard to one another, but what was certainly shared chief among them, was an overall dislike of their respective duplicitous nature. Lies and deceit were instinctual of both and overcoming that inherent feature when working together would take effort.

For his part, personal considerations placed carefully aside for the sake of professionalism, Fisher had already decided to forge a new path of cooperation and coordination with Rutherford and her department. Where others had failed in the past, keeping relevant information and crucial data to themselves, he would ensure that she and her people were just as well informed as he and his.

Maybe then they could find a way toward solving this contrived mess.

Once within the confines of the recently renovated conference room, and accordingly greeted by his lovely Diplomatic counterpart, the sage-eyed spy afforded a nod of reassurance to his subordinates as they went about settling in. He had made it clear upon invitation to this meeting, that they would be transparent with intel and any plans that they may have already had underway; that any individual efforts would now become a more concerted and shared one. It was the only way he could see them making their way through whatever future crisis awaited Theurgy, as the history of this rogue-starship served as testament to the profundity of Murphy’s Law, only to a wholly ridiculous Nth degree. As such, it was his job to try and be as prepared as possible for whatever insane turn this journey took, which meant exploring avenues that he’d not necessarily considered. He had concepts and ideas, and he would bring them to the table for discussion now, but he knew that there were likely others that might be worth merit; be they from the mind of an ex-Borg, or someone who was temporally displaced.

At the offer of a beverage, Fisher considered going for his preferred caffeinated brew of choice but hesitated upon remembering the on-going technical issue he was dealing with. Instead, he watched as his paramour went to order something for herself, and with great anticipation waited to see if his bit of mischievous programming might finally do what it was intended to.

It didn’t.

She didn’t get ‘HIS’ dark roast coffee whenever she ordered her preferred beverage. She still got ‘HER’ herbal tea with ginseng and ginger. Worse still, Rutherford noticed the manner in which he had so intently been watching her at the replicator; a mixed look of disappointment and confusion evidenced by the furrow transfixed across his pair of thick brows when she managed to order without issue. Rolling his eyes after she dismissed him with a lone verbal jab, he made mental note to later re-examine the coding he had tried to implement into the replicator system. For now, he was resigned to choose a chair near the head of the long table, settling down into it with a slight sense of defeat in the back of his mind. But soon, at the behest of Sam’s explanation, he reclarified his focus to the more imperative matter at hand. Gorka, son of Margon, and the source of the most recent headache that was facing Theurgy’s effort to stave off the total annihilation of civilization. Traditional Intelligence strategies, and more notably one of his two primary mentors would have called for outright assassination. And while Fisher wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, as there was plenty of good reason to warrant such an extreme measure, he understood that such a move would only further stoke the flames of chaos, rather than assuage them.

Playing things closer to the vest on this, he allowed Lieutenant Pierce to speak in response to Rutherford’s prompt, whom in turn confirmed her apt assessment that such a deliberate attempt to reveal Gorka’s true intentions would be poorly received, if at all. Theurgy was decidedly without honor in the eyes of the Klingon forces which stood in their way, and any attempts to speak with regard to a mostly respected challenger of the Klingon Chancellorship would indeed likely be viewed as baseless lies and slander. It would in effect be like digging down in a futile effort to climb up and out of the pit they were currently mired within. No, they would need to be far more cunning in their efforts to undermine Martok’s rival, and the Caitian Attache soon affirmed such a notion, making reference to a somewhat botched, yet ultimately successful mission to save a prominent Klingon, who may still have proven valuable to Theurgy and it’s efforts.

“I think it’s safe to say we can agree that a direct confrontation of the facts, regardless of how damning, wouldn’t have the desired effect given our lack of... honor.” Starting off on the same foot was nice, but there were no guarantees that they would remain lock-step in sync the whole way. “Besides, I don’t think Klingons as a whole are very appreciative of how often the Federation plays a part in determining internal matters of state. Sharing what intel we have, if that’s indeed a route to explore, should probably come from our own Klingon Allies.” Setting his PADD down as he looked over the myriad of faces sitting around him, Fisher let the pate of his head tilt inquisitively to the side as a lone eyebrow raised. “Question is, who’s the right actor to trust with such a disclosure of such sensitive information, and who will likely have the greatest impact in drawing undecided elements to our persuasion? Who carries the honor that we so lack, or at least enough of it to balance out our relative dishonor?”

It was as good a dilemma as any, and before moving onto the list of matters that still needed to be brought forth, they might as well have made some form of determination in this one. As Rutherford had so elaborated, there were people counting on whatever recommendations they forwarded. “Anyone have a line on Kahless these days?” he mused, highlighting the absurdity of their situation and the caliber of Klingon Warrior that they would likely need in order to achieve such a modest goal.

Realistically though, as limited as their options were, Fisher knew he would need to rely on the Diplomats and their understanding and intuition with who the Klingons would best react to.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
[Show/Hide]


All signs were set to war. It was in the wind that ruffled through the leaves, the dark clouds on the horizon. It was in the patterns her tea left along the bottom of her glass mug, as it settled. It was in the somber sentiments among the officers gathered in the Diplomatic Council’s conference room. Samantha could feel it like the cold chills of impending doom. The moment where everything that had been built, came crashing down, under the barrage of ignorance and desperation. The helplessness through it all, was what she had to deal with. To not let any disillusion show, to offer fertile ground for ideas to grow, where brush fires had run amok. That was her duty as a department head, as a superior officer, as … whatever she was to Andrew, at this point, beyond the façade of Starfleet. There had to be that innate sense of perseverance, through the storm, the murky tea leaves and the general mood slowly seeping into every crack of Theurgy like a poisonous fungus. But she did not hold the keys to salvation alone.

Running her tongue-tip across the rosy pillow of her bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh in for an unwilled nip, the blonde listened intently to Lieutenant Pierce’s elaborations. The suggestion of using a decoy as a messenger was covert, slightly backhanded, as she would’ve imagined it would be. It was not a judgment for sure, as the measure certainly fit the problem. And in politics, sometimes, you needed a credible figurehead, to transport unpopular opinion. This was the arena they were playing in right now and she’d relinquish to the unique set of rules required. A slow nod reverberated from the diplomats dainty defined features, as her face dipped in silent contemplation, before one of her own, took up the mantel. The happenings of the entire Daa’maq mission she was privy too, if only by reading the preliminary report. But it was an internal discussion that would yet have to be had. She understood, however, L’Nari’s intent and the validity behind adding this information to he stockpile of options to peruse, slowly gathering between the lot of them.

“In summary, however, the fact that Eriska fell into the trap like a blind rat, and thus gave the subterfuge credibility – no matter how weak – is the key-detail to as to why the mission did not end in three obituaries.” The commander added, placing one hand down flat on the table, close to the Caitian, gently. A notion accompanied by a subtle smile, intended to imply a sense of gratitude, and the acknowledgment of the young woman’s contribution in preventing the latter. Maybe, in hindsight, it had been a lot to convey with one simply curl of plump lips. But that was what debriefings were for, eventually, when time didn’t press on like a charging bull.

Attention shifting to Andrew, as he summarized the facts laid bare, Samantha acknowledged his additional, qualified views … although crowned by slightly misplaced – but rather characteristic – mockery. Narrowing her eyes if only for the faintest of moments, long lashes twitching barely discernibly, the diplomat silently gauged the intent of such conclusions. Had the situation become so dire, unbeknownst to her, that officers present already needed comic relief? Taking a moment to calculate such possibility, she made mental note to explore the tangent at a later time. “I reckon we’re talking someone more legitimate than a ghost.” she replied somewhat dryly – potentially a joke in its own rite and delivery. “Preferably someone not yet known to be allied to Martok, a high-ranking council member of an unaligned house, as Lieutenant Pierce mentioned.” Another nod to the voluptuous redhead, in reference, while blue eyes stayed on the bearded man, for now. “At a lack of a proper option, however … does anyone have an opinion on Captain Sotugh? The Klingon commander that the team on the Tesla brought back. His ship was dishonorably sabotaged by people close to Gorka. So, he would have added leverage against the man. But that doesn’t necessarily make him credible. Eager to help, however, I am sure.”

Thus, she had proposed a single name, an option to peruse, out of the sea of theorems and possibilities. It wasn’t the most solid one, not even in her own eyes. The intention was to give a jumping board to get a more concise round of discussion going, that would result in more substantial leads.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #11 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | [Show/Hide]
| ATTN: @Argyros @stardust @Swift @Nesota Kynnovan

Despite the coming battle ahead, things continued to get more complicated by the minute. She pondered how the Diplomatic Officers agreed with her earlier assumption and she tried to rack her brain of a Klingon officer or council member to whom the information could be leaked. The name of Captain Sotugh came up and grabbed Pierce's attention intently.

"Commanders, as you know I was on the vessel that returned with Captain Sotugh. Actually, I was on their vessel as it was attacked and left adrift before the Tesla arrived for our rescue. We did manage to save a number of Klingon officers and the Captain, who was not at all pleased at the dishonorable attack." She paused momentarily as she had a quick deep thought before looking back at her superiors. "I had managed to discuss some of this with Sotugh as I arrived and he mentioned how we had earned an ally of the Klingon Empire and of house DachoH for the rescue. So I believe he would be more than happy to persuade some of his comrades in battle at the dishonor of Gorka's brood."

Alana placed a hand close to her lips, thumbing the flesh of her plump lips as she tilted her head down to think. Her arm lightly crushing her chest only making it puff out more as she stood in thought. The realization hit her and she began speaking with a little more excitement as her arms moved as she talked. "Wasn't there a council member who Martok talked with or who was in contact with the ship recently? That may be our in. If we can get someone from the Council or on the surface to feed the convincing data into the DataCore of the Klingon ships and bring to light the information, that may help turn the tide against Gorka and help Martok while also helping us. If nothing else, it buys us time for Martok to openly challenge Gorka in battle and secure his seat as the Chancellor."

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #12 –
[ Lt Jordan Koilos | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan
[Show/Hide]
There was a tension in the air, invisible yet ever present, like gravity, seemingly both pulling and repelling the two commanders in the room towards and away from each other. Clearly the two had a history, whatever that might be. He took stock of the conference room, scanning the various spaces quickly with a practiced eye. Nothing popped out at him as malicious. Looking for ghosts where there are none. I’ve spent too much time amongst the worst. That being said, his attention was once again brought back to the two most senior officers in the room. Their shrouded dance and unspoken words seemingly bouncing back and forth between them. Fisher seemed to have been waiting for something but whatever it had been, never arrived. At least from his subtle shift in facial expressions.

After the others had gotten their drinks, Jordan made his way to the replicator. Yet instead of speaking his order, he input the commands with his fingers, leaving his ears free to hear the conversations going on unimpeded by his own voice. A moment later following a brief flash of light, a decently sized cup sat upon the matter conversion pad. Within a light tan liquid swirled, comprised of dark classic roast coffee with twenty percent hazelnut creamer. It was a simplistic drink, but one that he still thankfully like even after returning to civilization.

”Anybody have on line of Kahless these days?” His superior joked.

”He’s on Boreth.” The ex-borg said matter-of-factly before he could stop himself. Did I seriously answer that immediately and out loud? Guess so from the looks around. Might as well finish that thought. Raised eyebrows met his comment. Was that not a question he should have answered? ”His clone, that is. Keeping tabs on major players is kind of my job.” With that he finally sat at the table.

As the conversation intensified and went into specifics, Koilos had to admit to himself he was getting a bit lost. With his time spent predominately amongst Romulans, he had sadly fallen behind on who was who in the Klingon Empire. From his pocket he withdrew a small device, no bigger than a tricorder and held it under the table. It was perfectly clear, like the transparasteel of the ship’s windows save for a small metallic section no larger than the tip of his thumb along the bottom edge. With one hand he activated it, tiny holographic screens popping into existence, displaying various data streams in Borg algorithms. It was the most efficient way for him to catch up. The device itself wasn’t of Federation design, but he’d need it in a few minutes for his part.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #13 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
[Show/Hide]


There was one thing, the strong breeze they found themselves in, was good for; in that it pushed people towards grandeur and proactiveness, they would usually not indulge in, rather than reveling in their own complacency. Immediacy was the mother of initiative, as much as Samantha herself sometimes considered herself the mother of bright ideas, when it came to her subordinates. Holding the long-standing opinion that good leadership did not include regurgitating decisiveness and confidence into everyone’s mouths. Like a doting mother bird. But instead a gentle kick, out the nest, for them to learn to find inspiration by their own volition … or fall. A nudge that that went against human notion and was the most difficult line to cross within oneself, thus necessitating outside encouragement, or push. In a way, she considered herself to be the storm, that stoked up the ambers of excellence, in everyone she saw potential in. As it became much more about the team, than it did about her. That being said, she had no quarrels stepping over deflated corpses, devoid of all originality, once those wells ran dry. Not everyone was meant for the never ending struggle she sought to be the duty of a Starfleet officer.

So, as Lieutenant Pierce had not come forth with suggestion of Captain Sotugh upon first squeeze, the commander had opted for a second go-around, pushing the intended agenda more precisely, to elicit a self-motivated revelation. Not letting any of such backhanded subterfuge shine through, from the calm surface of her diplomat’s pate and political façade, the satisfaction glimmered from icy blue eyes like the first heralds of beautiful winterscapes. Admittedly though, Sotugh was not the best option, yet the only one immediately coming to mind, before – surfing on the crest of recent grandeur – Alana revealed a more promising subject, that had eluded the blonde for a variety of reasons. Chief among them his being ‘old guard’ within the council. A candidate easily challenged. But as the gentle push blossomed a counter reaction, inspiring ideas within herself, the blonde grew more and more appreciative, of the proposed ploy. “K’Tal ... good call.” she specified and praised, silently, in case someone present did not readily connect the dots at a mere lack of senior insight. That would’ve been their superior’s pardon, no doubt. She remembered the corpulent Klingon on the main screen, earlier that day. Looking like everything that was wrong with the Empire, as it grew weak and supine. A noteworthy find. Even more so by the red haired woman that had not even been present on the bridge then, to ehr own knowledge. Befitting her seat in the intelligence suite, however.

“Do we think it is realistic, to transmit our findings to Qo’nos and hope on the benevolence of an aging Klingon slug, to relate the information to the fleet?” Samantha purposefully polarized the statement with definitive sounding judgments, hoping to elicit a reassuring response that had a little bit more vigor and determination to it. After all, in this round, she was the one most Vulcan, not everyone else. And while emotion was a proclivity best left out of the realm of diplomacy, it was one she notoriously sought after in the reactions of her counterparts, to pit it against themselves. Or in this case, to start a fiery passion, that would aid their success. “He IS the head of Klingon Intelligence, after all. His covert channels would be well greased, no doubt. But do we have enough time. Or do we need a more pertinent solution, to divert the package to the fleet directly, potentially as some sort of data-leak, via Gorka’s ship itself?” she directed at Fisher, who likely had the best general oversight to weigh the plots against one another. Which was another possibility to think about. Maybe a more direct, albeit less certain way to victory. Potentially worth a gamble though.

Having noted Lieutenant Kolios covert dealings for a good while, skillfully ignoring them under the guise of her partly Vulcan physiology, the diplomat ultimately settled her azure ambers on the dark-haired man with unrelenting vigor. His every word, since entering the department, had registered with her astute senses and excellent memory, yet yielded little merit in terms of driving the meeting forward and the questions raised to an immediate solution. Which was – to slightly understate it – quite a nuisance to the blonde officer. She had read his file, the minute he’d joined a department so closely allied to hers, yet so inherently solitary in nature. So, of course, she had wanted to know what unique set of characteristics he would bring to the team. And while his pedigree, or what was available to be known, predestined him for covert operations, she did not appreciate them within these halls. “What is so fascinating in your lap, Mister Koilos?” she queried, words cutting out of the momentary silence, across the long table, to where he was minding his own business. Not born from a sense of deviousness or scolding, but rather a coaxing forth of the same vigor, with which the remainder of his colleagues, had subscribed themselves to the cause.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #14 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | ATTN: @Argyros @stardust @Swift @Nesota Kynnovan
| [Show/Hide]

Lt. Pierce heard the wise words of Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford and realized that she won't settle for base information. She needed and could handle the whole picture. Likely from all the shit she'd seen over the years, not only that but she'd been part of the resolution to the Domionion War not that long ago.

"Do we think it is realistic, to transmit our findings to Qo'nos and hope on the benevolence of an aging Klingon slug, to relate the information to the fleet? He IS the head of Klingon Intelligence, after all. His covert channels would be well greased, no doubt. But do we have enough time? Or do we need a more pertinent solution, to divert the package to the fleet directly, potentially as some sort of data-leak, via Gorka's ship itself?"

She pondered the question at hand, allowing her mannerisms to not hide that she was thinking deeply. Head tilted down slightly, fingers brushing her face, she channeled the stoic behavior typically associated with a Vulcan to work things out for herself mentally before providing a response. "While this may be the best option at hand, I do feel we could utilize our time better by transmitting from a Klingon beacon array and letting it ping off of that to transmit the signal. The bureaucracy of transmission could take more time than we have allotted. I recommend a data-leak with a hack that gives it a Klingon signature over allowing to appear as if it came directly from us. Is it possible to transmit it to Qo'nos on the back of a communication relay that would retransmit to the fleet as a backdoor trojan on their end? Then it appears to have come directly from Klingon Intelligence from the start?"

She pondered a moment further. "Another option is that we could divert an agent undercover on a Klingon Vessel that loses shields during a boarding party. If we had footage of Gorka's treasonous acts, it could even be transmitted over that ships comms and keep us in the clear."

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #15 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan

It was an old tactic that by now had been well engrained into the instincts of the Chief Intelligence Officer; that when discussing a delicate manner, it was best to be reserved and withhold your own offerings until just the right opportune moment. It allowed you a chance to see which way the winds were blowing, and quietly plot a course that worked in accordance, rather than against it, thus saving your energy and efforts for when they really mattered. In this case also, it was a chance to gauge the wherewithal and bearing of some of these new people that had recently come under his command. Naturally, Pierce seemed keen to offer her opinions based off of personal experience, both recent and less recent, giving a somewhat broad yet still intuitive analysis of Captain Sotugh, who according to a report that Fisher had read, was rescued in a daring attempt led by some very enterprising Theurgy Officers. It was good to have someone of his reputation on their side, but was his reputation really enough to have the profound depth of impact that they were desperately in search of? It was doubtful at best, given the fact that Gorka himself carried an outwardly visible reputation nearly on par with several renowned heroes of the Empire.

Still, Sotugh could still be of use in garnering support through other, less direct means.

He could see that for her own part, Sam was likewise playing her cards close to chest, obviously preferring to gather a similar sense of the wind’s direction before making any overly bold movements in line with it. Though rather than remaining silent, she did so by offering questions and requesting additional notation. She had also rather delicately deflected Fisher’s previous attempt at bringing a notion of levity to their quagmire of a dilemma, which he either chalked up to the opposing playful nature she afforded him, or perhaps a slightly less appreciative nature more in keeping with her partial Vulcan heritage. Regardless, it elicited a genuine smirk from him a his sage green-eyes shifted from her to the rest of the room once more, while over those eyes one thick brow raised rather inquisitively in reaction to the far more serious response that had come from his newest Assistant Chief, the ex-Borg covert operative. Fisher had yet to get any kind of a personal reading on, Jordan. He was enigma, wrapped in a thick blanket of obscuring shadows, which in itself was rather appropriate given the little bit of information that Fisher had been able to gather, though it had detailed a man who had seen more than his fair share of questionably prepared and ill-approved Intelligence Operations.

Snapping back to from his various ponderances upon the revelation of a question posed by Sam, and followed up on by Alana, Fisher let his wandering consciousness catch up with what had only been registering in his subconscious.

“No. The circuitous transmission time from Theurgy to K’Tal and back will take took long. Besides, given the state of the Empire, I think it safe to assume communications into and out of Qo’nos are being heavily monitored and likely intercepted. And all due respect to Klingon Intelligence, they’re not exactly the Tal-Shair or the Obsidian Order when it comes to acting with alacrity in dealing with more clandestine matters.” In fact, in his experience, Klingon Intelligence, while not downright inept, was arguably the weakest link of the Empire. The very act of spying and subterfuge was considered relatively dishonorable and treacherous within Klingon culture, and therefore, at least to Fisher, it had seemed like there was almost a deliberative approach when acting on forwarded intel. A sentiment which Alana soon confirmed as part of an alternative concept for revealing Gorka’s duplicitous doings, after Sam had thrown out a concept which had triggered a memory synapse in Fisher’s brain. Blinking as the women went on to discuss the matter a little more, he reached for the PADD he’d brought with him and accessed a secure file from their databases.

“Actually...” he chimed in, completely having disregarded the last two things said by Alana and Sam not out of ignorance, but instead due to a building adrenaline rush. “...going of off what the two of you threw out there, we have another option that is viable. Possibly already in play even.” Sitting forward a little, he set the PADD down and stood up to approach the massive digital wall display that ran the length of the conference room. With a few taps at the LCARS input, it soon filled with a series of detailed files: flight plans, engineering demands, requisition orders, a shot of the SS Sabine, and likewise a current view of the lower shuttle bay where a strange, almost ugly craft was sat idle in an out of the way corner. And at the top left of the screen, scrawled out in bold yellow lettering, there was the name of the mother-file that these had all come from.

OPERATION ‘RETURN TO SENDER’

“Bear with me.” He raised an apologetic hand to the others. “So, as part of our attempts to expand the capabilities and reach of the Intelligence Department, we’ve been looking into acquiring a specialized craft that can achieve a variety of goals. Stealth. Surveillance. Reconnaissance. You get the picture. Well, as part of our attempt to get approval, we’ve been drawing up a number of potential Operations that could be completed, if we were privy to such a craft. A few of them have even been pre-approved by the Captain and are only contingent on the right circumstances being in place. One in particular calls for the infiltration of an enemy ship via this specialized embarked craft. Of course, it also calls for internal sabotage of critical systems across that enemy ship, leading to its disabling or even outright destruction.” Stopping a moment, his gaze shifted back to Sam before he resumed. “But Commander Rutherford might have hit on another option. What if instead of someone else airing Gorka’s dirty laundry? What if Instead of planting bombs on Gorka’s ship, we rig it up to transmit detailed files of his illicit dealings? Every little lie he’s ever told that we can call him out on. Whenever he opens his big fat mouth, instead of hearing whatever asinine things he has to say, the entirety of the fleet receives only an unwitting confession. One at a time.”

“In essence, we let the colossal prick air his own dirty laundry until he’s buried in it.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #16 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | ATTN: @Argyros @stardust @Swift @Nesota Kynnovan
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Pierce listened in to what Fisher had to say about the situation. It did make a lot of sense actually what he had stated and that he happened to have the resources in place already to enact this sort of operation. The SS Sabine would make a proper vehicle to set the wheels in motion, but they'd also need a way into Gorka's ship to put this play into action.

"Commander, who did you have in mind to do this? From what it appears, Gorka's ship would need to lose shields long enough for the Sabine to beam a small contingent of officers or a single officer aboard and rig the system with a data hack." She paused and thought about the repercussions of the mission, as well as the fact, it could very well be a one-way trip if that individual wasn't careful. "The main issue would be not getting caught by the crew. It could very well be a one-way trip. But this may be the best method to expose Gorka from his own vessel. Having a hack into their memory core to show what he really thinks would be damaging and could give us the window we need for Captain Sotugh."

She looked at the two Commanders who were clearly contemplating the next move to be had. Alana could also tell that they were deciding if her questions were worth merit or if they were a shot in the dark. But regardless, the wheels were turning and she was interested in hearing what they thought of the situation.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #17 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
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The upside of being in charge was, with a doubt, that you didn’t have to come up with a lot of ideas. No, according to the school of leadership, you had to channel your subordinates’ skills and proclivities into an environment prolific to hone original ideas. Like forming clay vessels that something could grow in, fruits ready for the picking, after letting them blossom and ripe into something delectable. In that sense, any superior was almost like a gardener, if they did their job right, carefully tending to those tiny little seedlings, their first leaves, but not droning too much as to block out all light necessary for proper maturation. In which way they were also like parents, to a young flock of chicklets, constantly torn between giving them their free reign, but also not letting them stray too far from the coop. Of course, that didn’t mean that department heads were pure managers, devoid of original thought. But in Samantha’s eyes, at least – a sense instilled by her Admiral grandmother – her job internally pertained more to grooming the next generation of excellent officers, rather than asserting her own personal wisdom. She was also far too old and seasoned now, to be entertaining such superficial notions of pride and superiority.

Letting her blue ponds, that had temporarily frozen over with the ferociousness of a crystal fox, at the almost nerve grinding side-traction of intel’s newest addition, she settled on the other one of Fisher’s subordinates with a more amenable disposition. The woman clearly knew her stuff and was a skilled pick for the team, by chance or not, as she understood. Her ploy was elaborate and well thought out. Which, ironically, was the amount of attention to detail they could hardly afford, within the given timeframe. As was so succinctly reassured by the other commander, right away. Brushing her lips together, watching the scraggly hair on his upper lip twitch so cutely as he spoke, the blonde tried to not afford the man’s very valid points with too much gratification, as not to seem too partial to another department head’s similar position or for whatever reasoning that may have been not so well hidden between them. Which was actually the more mortifying judgment. She’d rather nibble her own hand off than being thought of as to let mawkish notions compromise her ability to lead.

“I also think that, while rallying undecided ships to our cause is already a tough act, bringing someone’s own loyal crew up against them, especially Klingons, would be a near impossible feat. No matter the proof.” the diplomat almost apologetically addressed an afterthought of the fiery-haired Lieutenant, that seemed to have fallen to the wayside, before Andrew continued on their main tangent.
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Placing her elbow on the precipice of the conference table, resting her defined jawline on the knuckles of almost beastly manicured digits, Samantha blinked thrice, as the chief of intelligence narrated his inspired ploy, that had readily blossomed from a clay vase formed by the majority of the team together, like in some sort of romantic holo-flick foreplay scene. Blonde curls gently flicking over slender shoulders, as her neck bent like a Macaroni, from a side-bent torso. All the while a plan unfolded before her that had, to a far more premature extent, already existed in her mind, the moment she’d gotten the preliminary draft of the other department’s varied insurgency plans. Now filled with inspiration and detail, sparked from the very department known for its expertise in these matters. In a way, a potentially unwarrantedly so, it felt almost like watching a play you wrote, interpreted and elevated by the skilled cast of thespians, that would take on the challenge of bringing theory to life. Only slightly weighed down by the fair revelation that in this Shakespearean drama, the ominous shadow of death and doom was not just rhetoric, but rather a real possibility.

Brows gently raised at the use of a rather explicit epithet, to cap off his narration, the diplomat pursed her lips in a moment of letting the details sink in. Parsing the notion for potential inconsistencies or details she’d want to further probe into. When it already seemed like the Commander and his newest addition had a rather linked understanding of what the other was trying to say. Azure blues temporarily displaced to the redhead, as she added another small pouch of change, Samantha let her propped up hand gently fall back to the sleek surface of the table, smoothly readjusting her stance into the straight and upright, like a child being reprimanded at the dinner table. “You don’t see that glimmer in his eyes? I think it’s fairly obvious who the commander has in mind.” she replied curtly, though the twinkle in her own aquamarines betrayed any notion of professionalism. Which was a wonder in its own: That such a gleeful notion could outweigh the potential dangers of his ambition, in the moment. “The more prominent question is, what means of transportation does he think about? After all, the Sabine will be temporarily indisposed.” she added, leaving it at that. How much would be allowed to trickle down through the hierarchies of the intelligence department in terms of the Sabine’s secret mission was up to Andrew to decide, not her.

“Ensign …” she turned to L’Nari, running her tongue over the inside of her teeth. “… can we consolidate a file of our reports on the Daqchov, Daa’maq and Monocerotis missions, as well as the tidbits of dirt we’ve accumulated in database XP-72. Sort it into a standard Klingon algorithm and less perfect grammar, so I can have it translated?” Raised brows added to the seeming question were accompanied by a professional intensity to her baby blues that left no quarrels towards the correct answer. Of course, it was a task that could wait well till after the meeting. The Caitian’s opinions and impressions were still very much valid to the meeting.

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #18 –
[Ensign L'Nari | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy] Attn: @stardust @Swift @Argyros @Pierce

That small gesture, when Commander Rutherford placed her hand down on the table next to L’Nari and presented her with a smile in response to her input regarding the Daa’maq mission, was enough to bring an equally big smile to the lips of the black-furred Caitian. As the meeting continued however and the Intelligence Officers further explained their perspectives, the Diplomatic Attaché turned her green-eyed attention to her PADD; as it was, she’d already shared her own opinion regarding deception, and she didn’t want to unnecessarily interrupt any of the others.

Maybe she’d been a little too focused on her PADD though. While L’Nari had initially listened quite attentively and even took relevant notes about everything that was being said, her mind soon began to drift; the conversation made her relive the very close call she’d been through aboard the IKS May’siq and allowed her to contemplate on how dangerous her life turned out after she boarded that shuttle to Starbase 84. It wasn’t like L’Nari came to suddenly regret her decision though. After all, Admiral Anderson had trusted her enough to reach out to her and she was fully intent on living up to his trust, but the young Caitian now began to fully realize the consequences of her actions. In the current situation, not even diplomatic immunity was as sacrosanct as it was supposed to be and just that realization that she could be killed despite being part of the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps quite honestly filled her with fear.

When she heard how Commander Rutherford addressed her once more, L’Nari quickly snapped out of her thoughts and turned her green-eyed attention to her direct commanding officer. ”Ma’am?” She still felt a little anxious as she spoke, but the young Caitian quickly regained herself and nodded; masking her lack of confidence with a smile. ”We can. I already finished the report on the Daa’maq mission, and it won’t be too hard to add the reports on the Daqchov and Monocerotis missions.” L’Nari was typing on her PADD as she spoke; creating a new file and adding the mission reports of all three missions. It wouldn’t be overly difficult to have the computer organize them based on distinct keywords, though it might take a little bit more effort to add everything else the Commander asked for if she also wanted everything translated. ”I’ll ask one of the aides to assist, ma’am. We’ll have the file ready by...” She quickly looked at the small clock at the top-right of her PADD. ”Lunchtime.” While L’Nari wasn’t one to brag about her ability, she couldn’t help but to present Samantha with a proud smile as she continued. ”Ma’am, if I may. I speak Klingon, I could do the translation for you if you’d like.”

OOC: Sorry about the delay; I wasn't notified of any new messages, so it took me the better part of this time to even realize I was tagged! My bad, L'Nari will bring cookies to the next meeting to make up for it!

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #19 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros @stardust @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan

“Normally, I would delegate the matter unto one of you. Be it Lieutenant Koilos, or you, or even Lieutenant Byrne. But given the dangers, and relative uncertainties of the op in question, I wouldn’t feel comfortable or find it appropriate. Instead, I’m thinking I’ll head this up.” With his sage green eyes he peered at Rutherford for a faint moment before shifting his gaze on to each of his accompanying subordinates.

There had been more than a few operations and missions that the Chief Intelligence Officer had been a part of, that lacked the kind of thorough planning necessary to ensure success. It meant more often than not, being able and willing to improvise on the fly, a skill which Fisher had learned and honed to a fine point throughout his years of covert service. Still, he knew that some of his past handlers had hated the prospect of essentially forcing a field agent to rely on unknowns and uncertainties when undertaking an operation. And while you couldn’t plan for every eventuality or outcome with regard to operations, there was still a clear delineation between those which were up to snuff and those that weren’t. It was in that sense, why Fisher hadn’t even considered foisting off this proposed incursion on his subordinates, as Rutherford had clearly detected. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust Koilos, Pierce, or Byrne with the mission. More so, he didn’t feel it appropriate to task them with filling in the litany of potholes which persisted within the finer details of the operation. After all, the operation had only been in the beginning stages of planning, and as had been so dutifully pointed out, the ship that they were to rely upon in order to enact it was decidedly unavailable.

“There’s another vessel aboard.” Turning back to address the raised concerns in succession. “In fact, one which might even be more well suited for this operation. Theurgy is home to a pair of Remans. Lorad and his younger half-sibling Samala. When they came to the ship, they brought with them a Reman assault craft, named the ‘Apache’ which is outfitted with one of their spectacularly over-designed cloaking devices.” Touching at one of the controls attached to the large main viewer, the screen moved to focus on the live-feed of the lower shuttlebay where the oddly shaped craft lay quietly dormant. “Ideally, I’d manage to get aboard the Ta’rom, sabotage their systems accordingly, and get out without them ever having been the wiser. If caught, it would quite literally act in opposition to our stated goals.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leant back a little to examine the details that were scrawled out across the large viewer, himself finding it necessary to go over them. “Figure on a systems engineer to assist in the hack, and maybe a small security detachment to protect the ‘Apache’ if shit hits the fan. Maybe an eight-man team, at most.” He exhaled as it was starting to come together in his mind, and though he knew he would likely lead such an operation if it was indeed to move forward, he knew he’d still rely on his subordinates to help coordinate the matter.

“There’s too much for me to take on alone in this matter. If Commander Rutherford is going take advantage of her staff with the preparation of data we’ll want to leak, I’d likewise want to take advantage of your expertise with preparing the security team, as well as requisitioning the supplies we’ll need to make this whole thing happen.” Motioning with a hand to Alana and Jordan, Fisher was more than aware of the short time they had to make the necessary arrangements, and as before with the second interview of Dr. Nicander, he simply couldn’t be everywhere at once. “The security team will need to be selected and briefed on what to expect in terms of combat should it arise. In another case, I might include the Chief of Security in this matter, but he’s...” pausing out of reverence, Fisher knew that everyone was well aware of the fate that had befallen Commander Akoni, and as such decided it didn’t mandate further explanation, so he chose not to. “Plus, the fewer people we keep in the loop, the less likely there is for something to leak out.” Given the issues that had plagued Theurgy as of late with regard to betrayal, the added level of subterfuge and caution was more than warranted in his estimation. No, this was definitely the right course of action to take.

Letting silence linger for just a minute as they all seemed to think through the concept as it had been outlined, Fisher could only imagine the incredulous response some of his former Commanding Officers might have lobbied. He wondered for instance, what his Diplomatic counterpart might well have also been thinking but knew not to press on the more personal matter in the current environment.

“I mean, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever been a part of.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #20 –
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] | ATTN: @Argyros @stardust @Swift @Nesota Kynnovan
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Pierce stood there with a slight grin across her face as she realized that the boss wanted to get into the action himself. If she were in that sort of position, she couldn't say she wouldn't have done that herself. Anything beats being the coordinator and being the one in the thick of it. Although it can be said that you get a greater amount of autonomy being the one in charge as opposed to the underling. Right now, she was content being the underling albeit when the opportunity arose for her to take charge of a situation. The same sort of feeling that she'd had on her last 23rd Century mission as well as the one coming to the Theurgy.

"Aye sir. I will coordinate with Security and with Lt. Koilos and Lt. Byrne on a team that can be put together." She nodded towards the other two as if stating that she'd be taking charge if there weren't any objections. Also signifying that she wanted their support of Commander Fisher.

"In the meantime, we'll get prepared and be ready for a signal as to what we are to do next. We'll return to the Central Intelligence Office to help coordinate the details with Commander Rutherford." Her hands carefully clasped in front of her pelvis in a folded hand over hand manner as she stood at attention, awaiting the acknowledgment from her CO.

The thrill of a mission and being in the thick of something important on board a Starship again welled up within Pierce as she began inputting data into her PADD to coordinate amongst the present company in the event she was not in the CIO vicinity. Somehow she felt that with the Klingons involved, something would undoubtedly go wrong, and she wanted to be there to play damage control in that event.

OOC: Are we needing a separate thread for the security detail or can this be handled off-screen?

Re: CH06: S [D03|1000] “If you want peace...” | Artibus Intelligo, P1

Reply #21 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council Offices | Deck 02 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Swift @Pierce @Nesota Kynnovan @Argyros
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Watching the slender Caitian spring to action was always a delightful sight to behold. So much energy and so much vigor … Samantha remembered a time when she herself was so easily excitable and fired up by putting together a report for her superiors out of the tidbits that someone else with a more interesting career had put together. Since then, a lot of time had passed, and her initial bright-eyed naivety had been left behind at warp speed while the reality of the ‘business’ had taken over. And, to be honest, she envied the younger woman a little bit for it. For that positivity, that innocence. Yet much like those lectures about one’s virginity, that were ingrained in every daughter’s mind who had loving and caring parents, it wasn’t something you could get back. She hoped she was making enough of a point of it for L’Nari to understand that these were the years meant to be enjoyed. Even if they started out in the midst of the galaxy traitors and low lives. Appraising her with a gentle nod and faint smile, that conveyed more of a motherly sentiment than intended entirely, the blonde cleared her throat and emotional pallet quickly in order to coat herself with the comfortable Teflon of professionalism once more.

“It can never hurt to have more translations to compare with one another.” she acceded, appreciating the initiative despite having switched back to being the calculating superior. When it came to things, she wasn’t a pro at herself, like the Klingon language, the commander had a hard time trusting anyone’s expertise when – in the end – her name would be associated with the results. So, everyone could be assured that this information would be triple checked at least twice, before they would leave the ship, or even be transmitted to the Klingon fleet. It was the one area where she allowed herself some micromanaging obsession. “And make sure you get in contact with Miss Natauna for whatever little details she might have on top of both our department’s research. I reckon she has her ears a little closer to the ground.” the diplomat added, speaking of the civilian with the colorful history.

As Fisher spoke once more, continuing on the ‘Return to Sender’ tangent, Samantha let her icy blue attention travel the barrens of the shiny conference table back to his sage colored ponds that almost felt like a patch of nature in the bleak sterility of the room. And just like the sheer vibrancy of the view, the mere energy of his being made general inhibitions melt away to a point where the blonde once more let a gentle smile grace her plump, rosy lips. She assumed he had no intention to delegate any of it. Not judging by the vigor and passion with which he described the whole mission and the detailed planning he had come up with. No, Andrew loved every minute of being able to pull the department head card and go himself. But she appreciated the diplomatic smoke screen of making his staff feel as if they had a chance to be a part of it all the same. It both spoke to his ability to be political as well as a good leader. Something he could surely use in trying to persuade the Romulan-Reman hybrid to their cause. Even though the sheer fact that anyone on this ship had to even be persuaded to anything was beyond her. If this negotiation had been up to her she would’ve made it very clear that Samala could’ve set out with her little dingy right on the cusp of battle, in the midst of Klingon territory, if she felt like she didn’t want to be part of the chain of command – or needed additional incentive to do the right thing. Which was, sadly enough, just a recent sentiment born from her intense talk with Drauc, two days back.

It seemed, however, as if Drew and his department had the entire thing under control. A gentle warm wave of tropical tranquility washed over Sam in that regard. One more thing off her plate, now that she had delegated the gathering of the information to L’Nari. So she could focus on other topics until the moment of triple checking everything would eventually come around like the sometimes dreaded bird cries of a new day. “Alright then … not to diminish the gravity of the undertaking, but I suppose this issue is settled then.” The blonde concluded after lieutenant pierce had already summarized the necessary task in a similarly definitive fashion. Everyone obviously knew what they had to do about sticking it to Gorka. “Now, I have a couple of other tasks that are not exigent in regard to our current situation with the fleet closing in. But regardless of that I would like to have whatever attentions everyone can spare on them still.” the diplomat reasserted her home-turf advantage by picking up a PADD, letting it’s underside touch the table, as it teetered back and forth beneath the delicate touch of her fingertips.

“I have recently been able to re-establish a library uplink to the Federation archives, with the help of Warrant Officer Ravenholm. All while using my still valid credentials and redirecting the connection through my office on Starbase 133. Which means, there is also the potential to contact the council or someone second in line to Starfleet Command. It would be extremely helpful to have a list of potential candidates for when - or if - the Captain approves such communication to be established.” Of course, her grandparents would be put high on that list, for various reasons. But that would be her addition to the mission then, when the time came. “Additionally … I have been in contact with Drauc T’Laus, our resident Boo Radley and former Tal Shiar alum, as well as former Starfleet Officer.” Which was quite a résumé to put into few words. “He has agreed to use his skills in subterfuge to stir some trouble within the Tal Shiar, to hopefully keep the Romulan government distracted enough for a while so there be no more attacks. He also would need a list of whichever undercover agents and operatives in these respective circles you can put him into contact with. I have already given him a PADD with an encrypted link to this one so you can exchange the information directly.” Sliding the minicomputer in her hands across the table in the direction of Fisher and Pierce the officer quite symbolically gave the issue out of her hands, for the moment.

“I am sure that since not your entire department will be going on the intelligence mission – or be manning the phaser-bank remodulators - there will be some capacity to keep working on these tasks?” It remained sort of an open question. As much as Samantha wanted them done, she did not want to overstep her boundaries in telling Drew’s department what to do.

Not until he was off the ship, at least.

- FIN
 
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