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JDL | CDR Stacker, WO Parsuv (NPC) | "Preparations, Pt. 2"

Posted on Fri Feb 5th, 2021 @ 4:18am by Commander James Stacker & Warrant Officer Parsuv
Edited on on Fri Feb 5th, 2021 @ 4:25am

Mission: A Distant Thunder
Location: Multiple Locations | Cold Station Theta
Timeline: SD 242102.04

"Luck is what we make it, not what is thrust upon us. You’ve shown initiative and it has nothing to do with luck." - George Bellairs

=/\= Intelligence Section, Deck 683 =/\=

In the depths of the station, a team of intelligence personnel were not having a particularly good day.

“One zero one stroke six five stroke beta three three niner,” one of them narrated off a hard plastic case, holding it up so the light reflected off the small tag affixed to the top. His partner stood nearby, eyes razor-focused on the PADD in his hand, index finger of the other hand tracing a line of text on the screen. A moment after the narration had finished, he sighed and lowered the device.

“Yep. Same batch.”

“You’re sure?” came the incredulous response. The two of them briefly huddled and examined the PADD, again. The same line of text was traced, again. And then reread, again. The case was held up and was examined by both, again. When they were satisfied one of them sighed and the other ran his hand through short-cut hair. Then they regarded the three other cases on the shelves.

The holder of the case was just putting it back up on the shelf when the door to the storage compartment opened and a woman wearing lieutenant (j.g.) pips entered the room. “Well?” she asked with evident interest. PADD-holder turned around and shook his head with a disgusted look on his face.


“Yes ma’am. We checked the cases and compared them to the manifest. All of them came from the same batch.”

“I tell you what: I don’t want to be the one to tell the boss,” his partner replied. That prompted a new round of looks: first at each other, then at the four hard plastic cases sitting securely on the shelves.

=/\= XO’s Office, Deck 1 =/\=

James took the report an hour later. When the initial statement and report was completed, he found himself sitting back in his chair and looking between the lieutenant (j.g.) and Warrant Officer Parsuv. The look on his face, unknowingly, mirrored the shocked/surprised/incredulous look that the more senior of the two had shown when she was first told about this, earlier in the day.

All of them?” he asked, for clarification. Two nods answered him, but it was Parsuv who took the lead in responding.

“We have checked them against the manifest and the report. All of them came from the same batch at the manufacturing plant. A batch which -”

“Which was found defective and faulty, at the cost of two sensitive material destruct machines on Starbase 227,” the XO interjected. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought to himself while both waited in the chairs across from his desk. After several moments he spoke, without opening his eyes. “How many spares does that leave the destruct facility?”

“Three, sir.”

A single eye opened and swiveled to Parsuv. “The machines need four to operate, correct?”

A lanky head nodded his way. “Correct.”

“And at the present rate they’re wearing out ...?”

“We’ll have used them up in about sixty days, sir.” This from the lieutenant.

Both eyes opened now, moving between his two visitors. “I hope we’ve been able to source replacements. I don’t need to say what’ll happen if one of those machines goes down.”

From the looks on their faces it appeared both were aware. Starfleet regulations were extremely strict when it came to the handling and disposal of certain classified materials, such as isolinear chips from intelligence computer terminals. If the starbase exceeded its allotted storage volume a 60-day waiver had to be applied for. Granting of the first waiver was a pro forma affair: these things sometimes happened. But successive waivers became more problematic. Reviews and inspections might even be in order, later on down the line.

And the last thing I need is to give that bastard a reason to show up in my office again.

Parsuv this time. “We have found replacements sir. Starbase 234.”

The XO had to think for a moment. That wasn’t a facility he’d previously visited nor had personal experience (or familiarity) with. Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t heard of it: he just couldn’t think of the location. After his mind came up with blank after blank he finally leaned forward and queried the computer on his desk. The answer it spat back at him caused his head to tilt down as he leaned back slightly, clearly nonplussed with the answer. “Nothing closer?” He looked up to see both heads shaking.

“A high warp shuttle could make the trip and return quickly, possibly with as much as twenty days to spare,” Parsuv interjected.

A light went off in his head and he found his eyes surveying the map on the computer. Starbase 234 was there, but to reach it a shuttle would have to pass through Starbase 105, and that meant ... “I see,” he finally said, leaning back in his chair as gears whirred in his mind. Would it solve the problem he'd been wrestling with? Maybe. It's a step closer, at least.

“Given the severity of the situation I’d like you to handle it, Warrant. Personally. How soon can you be off the station?”

“Two hours at most, sir. I would like to point out that Ensign Tanner is going on leave, and -” The words cut off at a look from the executive officer. “Of course, sir.”

“Thank you. Lieutenant, you’re dismissed. I need a word with the Warrant Officer.”

“Aye sir.” She gave him a nod and left the office. James waited until the door was closed behind her before giving his combadge a quick double-tap. The tricorder sitting on his desk lit up.

“Now let’s talk about why I’m sending you on this trip, Warrant.”

=/\= To Be Continued =/\=

Commander James Stacker
Executive Officer
Cold Station Theta (Starbase 1170)

Warrant Officer Parsuv (NPC)
Intelligence Officer
Cold Station Theta (Starbase 1170)
apb Baxter


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