Frontier Friction

Posted on Mon Jan 3rd, 2011 @ 5:38pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Rear Admiral Aves Mooren

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: Sometime after 'A Hijacking'

=Captain's Ready Room, USS Arizona=

Captain Nathan Cowell was enjoying the remaining portion of fresh Sweet Tea that his yeoman, Mister Sweeney, had provided him as a method of proving his prowess in his office. His office had been made vacant not long ago by the new Chief of Security. His crew was rapidly becoming a novelty to him, which in all his time was a welcome change from the seriousness of most of the crews that had served him before. While they were far from fully staffed, Nathan had a cautiously optimistic outlook on things.

Sitting back, Doc Cowell half expected that the Universe had finally aligned itself in his favor the way things had been progressing. No tedious missions being handed down, no overly full of themselves young officers to contend with, and he even had his own personal man-servant. Life was looking up...

"Captain Cowell," the voice of his temporary Ops Chief, Lt. JG Elizabeth Marion broke the silence of his contentment.

"Yes Elizabeth," Doc Cowell frowned as he got the feeling he'd 'thought' too soon.

"You have a message from Admiral Mooren," the woman informed him.

"Put it through..." Nathan grumbled in displeasure. 'Great... a call from the Brass...'

The screen embedded into the desk rose as the message was being transferred from the main communications receiver assembly to the small receiver that was incorporated into his Ready Room station. Doc Cowell leaned back and got comfortable, unsure just what he was being hailed for if not for some mission.

"Hello Admiral," Cowell greeted as nicely as his dower persona would allow.

"Captain, you seem a little too relaxed for a man running one of the most heavily armed warships along the Neutral Zone," Aves mused with a slight grin. "Settling in better than I expected. Good."

She sat back in her chair a little and got comfortable, waiting for the Captain to continue asking the questions. She needed to know if this man had it in him to pull the mission from her, not just wait to be spoon fed an assignment. Intuition, observation, and participation were three things she looked for in her commanding officers -- let's hope this man had some.

Captain Cowell scoffed at the comment about his being among the most heavily armed ships along the Neutral Zone. He could think of at least five vessels just on the other side of the thing that could probably make short work of the Arizona if their Captain's weren't so hell bent on glory hogging to work in concert.

"Admiral, I know I don't need to tell you just how long I've been doing this. I haven't spent the better part of three decades wearing the pips I have to be nervous when someone with a few pips in a box calls my phone. And because of your position, I'd wager you're not making social calls this late in the afternoon either, because you didn't start this conversation off with a smile and a welcome to the neighborhood speech. My money is on something, most likely some bad shit, has just hit a high speed fan and you need someone with some movin' and groovin' experience to make short work of... whatever the hell you're calling about. Stop me when I start going down down rabbit trails..." Doc Cowell replied after giving the woman enough time to settle in to her own most likely comfortable chair.

"Well at least you got that right, Captain. Just a word of note before I continue, however," she paused for a moment to stare directly into the screen, electric blue eyes cold and calculating as she continued saying, "Next time you speak to me like that in that tone, there just might be a standard issue Starfleet boot shoved half way up your ass."

Without waiting for a retort, Aves tapped a few buttons on her console and information started to pour onto it, including a map of the local area and a few points of interest which Aves would explain.

"We've received a missing ship report, Captain. SS North Star, a cargo ship with some rather -- let's just say fancy cargo. Medical supplies, other basic supplies -- it doesn't matter. It failed to report at its designated time. Last known coordinates and all other relevant data have been transferred into your ship's computer. We need you to find the North Star, access the situation, and report back to T-F-C-P when you do for further orders. An odd job for a warship, I know, but a perfect way to test the ships capabilities." It was also the perfect way to test his capabilities on the line.

"Questions, Captain? You better have some or I'll second guess this new posting."

"First of all, why would you glaze over the cargo manifest. A ship of this class," Cowell said, glancing over the information she was providing and noting the class and type of cargo ship it was, "If the ship were carrying run of the mill supplies, they would just be hauling bulk matter for replicators, not the actual products. Also, why would anyone hire this ship to go near the Neutral Zone without an escort if they weren't carrying important items. More about this smells of set up and trap than I've seen in a while."

The more he glanced over everything the less he liked everything about it. Doc closed the display that had the mission details and brought the image of the Admiral back up.

"But the only way to figure out what happened is to spring the trap, Captain," Aves said. "Your ship is more than capable to take on the task. It's armed to the teeth, and even with a skeleton crew packs on hell of a punch. I do agree that it looks suspicious, Captain. That's why we're going to make it apparent we're not taking it anymore by sending you in. That'll get whoever is involved a little giddy." She sat forward again, looking intently into the screen.

"There is more to this than meets the eye, Captain, that is for certain. But the only way to puzzle out the motives behind whatever happened is to see it, to feel it, and for you to report back to me. If we can understand the situation, we can have a better chance at catching who caused this in the first place. For now all I can do is speculate about the disappearance and its details, but my words will fall unto empty ears without evidence to support a theory. Find me that evidence." She nodded and then sat back again.

She was never usually this fidgety during a conversation, but this situation was making her nervous. One of the many disappearances along the Neutral Zone, but the nature of this one was different then the rest. There was a deep motive to this whole plot, one which was clouded by unseen facts that could only be discovered by the Arizona.

"Any final questions, Captain?"

"Just one," Nathan said evenly, "What kind of discretionary authority are you willing to give me? Can I chase these scum suckers to the ends of the quadrants if need be or do I have to stay here in home turf? And when I find them, do I have to play nice or can we just do what has to be done and not worry about paperwork later. I want to know where I stand before I run off guns blazin'. No point to me ever having to set foot in your office if I know what I can get away with first."

"Officially you only have the authority to chase them to the edge of Federation space, and that's if there is even anyone there. Off the record, however, if you have a chance to take the fight to whoever could have possibly done this, take it. But just realize you're walking a fine line, Captain, and regardless of the outcome you will be ending up in my office for a report in person once this fiasco is taken care of. A note, however," she said, raising her right fore-finger and pausing.

"If when you arrive there's a trail to be found, follow it. Starfleet Command has given you the authority to proceed into the Neutral Zone, and you will have my backing if anyone -- unfriendly, decides to confront you," the Admiral finished, slightly mentioning a possible Romulan involvement in this whole thing. It wasn't likely, but then with all of the lost ships, what was likely?

"Good luck, Captain. We're counting on you. And absolutely do not forget that report. Task Force Command out."

Cowell grumbled to himself as he considered the implications of having to make personal reports. He hated having to deal with Admirals...