A Sign of Things to Come

Posted on 29 Dec 2014 @ 9:48pm by Admiral Ajon Mox & Admiral Myrkul Sharr

2,161 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Earth orbit
Timeline: MD 08: 0800 hrs

June 2390, as with any June of any year on Earth the sun was beating down San Francisco with only a gentle breeze to break the bombardment of heat and light, as he waited on the shuttle pad Admiral Sharr twisted his hand in the sunlight and enjoyed the warmth that it gave him, he had arrived early which was not unusual for him, so he took the few moments he had to himself, to enjoy the rays from the sun and the sound of Starfleet Command in the background.

It had been a long time since he had stepped foot in the Starfleet HQ in San Francisco, everything that had transpired had happened in the Palais de la Concorde and the branch Starfleet had nearby. Now the USS Insignia was in orbit waiting for Admiral Mox, Admiral Hawke and himself to arrive to take them to Starbase 84. Unable to use the transporters, Admiral Sharr was left with the only option of using shuttles everywhere he went, which added more time to his journeys that he had to undertake, but on the plus side he had time to review reports and information that had been handed to him as he had left his office.

Not a few moments longer and the shuttle had arrived, a pristine Type-9 and very quickly a set of crewmen had put on the Admiral's belongings before he stepped into the shuttle, he would meet Admiral Mox on the Illustrious once he had got himself settled and a drink in his hand.


Across the planet's surface and far, far to the south, the admiral in question stood in a blizzard several dozen yards beyond the entrance to the Kason Arch at Lake Vostok. Not for the first time, Mox wondered whether, all things considered, diplomatic summits with the Breen warranted the effort. And it wasn't just because the status quo would be unaffected - the Breen would continue to raid along the Federation and Cardassian borders, Starfleet and the Cardassians would continue to scare them off and pick up the pieces and together they would sideline the fact that the Confederacy was making serious inroads in the black markets of several worlds inside the Romulan Neutral Zone.

Freezing despite his heavy winter clothing and goggles, his legs buried to the knee beneath thick snow and everything more than a few yards away from him hidden behind a veil of driven snow, Mox decided that, no, it was just because the Breen always demanded to meet in Antarctica for these summits.

With a single beep to indicate an incoming hail, a voice sounded in his ear. The Starfleet-issue hood contained its own communicator, as no one would've been able to hear anything in the blizzard.

"We were right, Admiral," the voice - male, European and so warm Mox practically felt the ambient room temperature from whence it came - said. "The blizzard's interference is less outside the Arch's walls."

"Happy to hear it, Lieutenant." He kept his teeth from chattering. In truth, the effort required was not considerable. Starfleet didn't skimp on its kit. "The Insignia?"

"In orbit and ready to beam you aboard now."

"Then by all means."

A slight pause and the blizzard of snow transmuted into the blizzard of a transporter beam. A moment later, Mox was standing atop a pad with the quiet hum of machinery all around.

A captain was waiting for him. "Welcome aboard, Admiral Mox," the captain said, a polite smile on his face. "I see the ground facility finally got their transport enhancers working." He didn't sound sure, though. The reason was obvious.

"Not quite," Mox replied, pulling the coverings away from his face and removing his goggles. A shower of snow struck the pristine surface of the transporter pad as he lowered his hood. "Captain Mustahsan?" he asked, stepping down to the floor.

The man nodded. "You're the first to arrive."


It was almost a shame to leave the bright warm sun behind, but the duties of an Admiral summoned him. The shuttle had left the surface and in a few moments would arrive in Shuttle Bay 1 of the USS Insignia, the ship which would carry both his colleagues and himself to their destination.

He gave a heavy sigh at the thought of the Elysium undergoing repairs, it would be at least 6 months to bring her back online and operational but then a further 12 months to restructure her for her reprised role. The thought of 18 months behind a desk made him shudder, but his well trained aide was already on the case and handed him a glass to which he quickly emptied and handed back. He looked over and smiled, over the past few weeks his new personal aide had gotten to know him very well, or at least the signs of when he needed something and was very prompt about getting that particular requirement.

The shuttle docked uneventfully and the Admiral was escorted out, as customary as it was, Sharr had made sure that the Captain of the ship would be elsewhere on his arrival, he wanted to get his belongings into his assigned quarters and head to the briefing room which he had reserved for his talks with his colleagues.

Without another word his aide had started giving orders to the team that came with them to take the Admiral's things to his quarters, he handed Sharr a PADD with the deck layout of the Insignia and the room they had reserved was clearly marked. He didn't know if he should be insulted, or pleased, his aide had given him this PADD. He knew the Insignia's layout well enough but responded with a thank you and a smile.


In the transporter room, Mox was still toying with the idea of divesting himself of his cold weather gear when Captain Mustahsan was hailed over the internal comms. Had he been that type of man, Mox might have allowed himself a wry smile at the captain's expression upon learning that Adm. Sharr had snuck aboard his ship without being properly welcomed.

"Admiral, if you wouldn't mind..." the dark-skinned man said.

With a nod, Mox let him go, receiving a "Someone will be along shortly" as the ship's captain left the transporter room and its last remaining occupants. With another nod for the transporter operator, who seemed only slightly perturbed that his captain's departing words could not be brought to fruition, Mox walked outside. Etiquette was a tricky thing where there were two admirals coming aboard simultaneously. Three, he reminded himself.

He pulled off a glove. Now, where were the guest quarters?


It didn't take long for the ships Captain to intercept Admiral Sharr and his team, the initial face the Admiral pulled could have been read many ways but it was his aides expression that confirmed how unimpressed Sharr was at this whole thing, "Ah Captain" he forced as charming as he could, "So sorry to just appear on your fine vessel, however I do believe I have everything sorted" he confirmed with a look to Josh who nodded a confirmation.

"Welcome aboard, Admiral Sharr" the Captain continued unphased by Sharr's somewhat distant and elusive demeanor, "Admrial Mox is already aboard and is being escorted to his quarters, may I?"

"No you may not" Sharr responded as quickly and as politely as he could manage to the Captain had offer, "I shall be in the observation lounge, if you could inform the other Admirals that I shall be there then that would be a great help, thank you"

Sharr simply wandered off, leaving Josh and the Captain talking. It was not long before he was sat in the observation lounge with report after report in front of him, statistics and data filled the screens on the walls and the only thing of comfort was the bottle of Romulan Blue on his desk, the label embossed with the RSE emblem, the year 2306 and Sharr's etched signature on the neck of the bottle which verified it as a genuine bottle from his own vineyard.

Topping up the tumbler in front of him he started to make headway through the Intel reports until his colleagues could join him to break the silence.


Guest quarters located, having left several personnel suitably unnerved by the sight of a flag officer traipsing snow through their corridors, Mox doffed his gear and replicated replacement clothes and service boots for the ones he'd left in Antarctica. He supposed he should've had something transferred to the Insignia ahead of him, but he'd always liked travelling light, and none of the specially designed computers he typically brought with him were needed on this mission.

Or advisable, he reminded himself. Entities with possession as their goal could wreak untold havoc. The Galileo's reports indicated an inability to remain in control of the subject, of course, due to a debilitating case of death, but Mox wasn't willing to take the risk. Precautions had been taken to prevent any member of the JFC from abusing their authority after coming into contact with the aliens.

Boots on and jacket adjusted, Mox took one last look in the mirror - at least he'd had time to shave - before stepping back out into the corridor again. Hawke would be slightly delayed, but Sharr was already aboard, and if Mox knew anything about his colleague, it would be that he'd already be working. That meant the observation lounge. Still, just to make sure... "Computer, locate Admiral Sharr."

"Admiral Sharr is in the observation lounge."

Go figure. Getting his bearings, Mox made his way to the closest turbolift and travelled up to deck 1. Capt. Mustahsan was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was meeting Hawke - although that would be ahead of schedule, seeing as how the other flag officer's business was complicated enough to keep him occupied for a few hours yet - or simply looking for wherever Mox had got himself to. The bridge crew stood to attention as Mox went past. He acknowledged them but left it at that, intent on the conference lounge.

"Ajon, glad you could make it. Though you are a little less white than I expected." Sharr quipped as he slid a pre filled tumbler along the table to his colleague, "We have a report that you need to read over, well several" he picked up a PADD, quickly confirmed the correct details and handed it over, "You have read the previous one that Intelligence sent you, these are some updates for you to take onboard before we get down to business"

Mox scanned the reports' headings, as was his practice, before sitting down and reading the first. "I left most of the snow on the carpet between the transporter room and my quarters," he said, reaching out for the tumbler. The details of the first report stopped him mid-sip. "The Nakbal case has been confirmed as a hoax?"

"That and 2 other cases which follow an almost identical pattern. If you will turn to the fourth report tab you'll see that this one, while still under investigation, may not have been a hoax. Nacheyev has dispatched one of her top level investigators to speed things along while we attend to the Lyshan III situation. Our worry, one that I think you share, is that this may not be a coincidence."

Mox found himself agreeing as he read. He checked the date on the report again. The incident in question was several months' old. Apparently, the filters Starfleet Intelligence was using to screen ships' reports hadn't picked it up. Nothing had come of the situation, at least in so far as anyone could tell, but it bore watching.

"And this is just the stuff we can see," he mused, taking another sip before returning the tumbler to the table. "In truth, it's the stuff we're not seeing that worries me."

"I've told Alynna to forward her operatives findings as soon as they report in, perhaps it will give us more information on what is happening out there" he had already topped up his own glass again and checked the amount left in the bottle, he just hoped he had enough to last him the round trip.

Pressing the intercom on his area of the table he was patched through to the Bridge, "Captain, depart as soon as we are able. I want to make good timing to the Starbase" he terminated the channel to the bridge but continued his sentence directed to his colleague, "I don't think I can handle 2 weeks on this cramped boat" with that he took an unusually large swig of the Blue Ale and topped himself up.

"I used to crew an Oberth." Mox placed a hand atop his tumbler and shook his head to Sharr's unspoken offer of a refill. "If you want to talk cramped boats..."


[OFF]

Adm. Myrkul Sharr
USS Elysium
Joint Fleet Command

Adm. Ajon Mox
Joint Fleet Command

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