Adjusting the Schedule

Posted on Thu Sep 8th, 2011 @ 2:39pm by Commander Dietrich Reinhart

Mission: The Pak'Leth Problem
Location: Starfleet Intelligence Compartment
Timeline: 1400 hours, MD01

::ON::

He felt it best to get his daily rounds in while he was restless and somewhat off duty, his self just disembarked from the Pan-Galactic flight to the station. The twenty-seven hour flight was enough to keep him moving like a zombie from department to department and checking in on the crew. It was not that he was truly ready for work to start again, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do since he had been on R&R so long.

His next check-in came to the Starfleet Intelligence Officer, yet another department he did not quite truly understand. He knew that in the past they have helped him out in small ways. It was tough though, considering he could not tell if they were KGB-esque spies, Party-agents informing on the common local trouble causer, or analyst geeks matching today's stellar cartography images with yesterday's. Regardless, he checked his paperless digital display and read that they had acquired a new Chief Officer.

"Captain?" He paused, looking through his file. A Marine Intelligence Officer. Somewhat of an oxy-moron, he figured, keeping the old inter-service rivalries alive. A brief delve into her bio revealed she worked in a MAG-TF, Marine Air-Ground Task Force. It was a fancy title that meant that there was an aviation wing attached to a marine foot-soldier group and they regularly operated together. Shuttles, most likely heavily armed shuttles, perhaps some Marine fighters. He made a mental note to check which MAG-TF that his brother was Operations Officer for, right before stepping to the Department's hatch and recalling his intentions.

The air was colder in the Intelligence Office. Doubtlessly due to the "highly-sensitive computer electronics and back-up servers" they always told him they operated. He'll see if this "Captain Tennant" had the same, proverbial stick up her rear end about it as that Chief Warrant Officer Maddux did. He shivered as he approached the central desk and looked around.

"Good afternoon, Commander. Did you enjoy your R&R?" The young petty officer asked.

How in the hell? "Yes, Mr. Alton, I did. Thank you." He reserved his other comment to shove it up his ---

"Commander, are you looking for our new CIO? She should be around here somewhere. Would you like me to page her?"

"Indeed, Mr. Alton. Thank you. I'll be waiting in her office."

~~~~

Samantha had seen sat with a CPO, trying to understand just what was going on in recent times. Whoever had been running the department before her didn't know what 'organise' meant, and the chaos was almost maddening.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed. "All right. Let's send all this to Server Three for the time being." Serving One was busy running an algorithm on the newest Starfleet Flash Message decryption program, while Server Two was humming away to itself, running a scan on all active files for any programming glitches, or malicious software.

A cough brought her out of her thoughts, and the blonde looked up to see a Petty Officer standing there. "Captain? Commander Reinhart is waiting to see you in your office."

The name didn't immediately click in her head. There had been alot of new information to process in such a short space of time since her arrival. "Commander who?" She needed coffee. Bad.

"Reinhart, Ma'am. He's the Station's XO. He's in your office."

Nodding, Tennant looked over at what the Chief was doing. "All right, we'll finish this up later." Rising from the chair, she moved past the SigInt desk, and across the room.

Intelligence was a large, open -planned room, with different areas of the department segregated by nothing more than perspex sheets that only rose to shoulder height.

Her own Office was tucked away in a corner, and as she pulled the door open, Sam saw a man in a command uniform, bearing the rank of a full commander in the fleet. "Afternoon, Commander." She said, heading straight for the replicator. "Coffee, black. Double sweet." Picking up the drink, she took her seat behind the desk. "Sorry, I was catching up on the lastest dispatches from Command. Four days on a transport to get here, and I have a pile this high-" she held her hand about four feet off the floor "-of reports to look at. Crazy."

"I guess that is about the same for every department," Dietrich offered. He did not want to talk about the late reports he had to file since being on two weeks of R&R. His pile looked more like the main docking bay. He reached across the table and offered his hand. "My name is Commander Dietrich Reinhart, the station's Executive Officer." It was not the first time he's met new officers. Actually, it seemed like he was constantly outliving department heads and division heads and officers of the Starbase Business Association. He tried to make it as personal as he could, but he had no idea how long this pretty girl would be on the station, and thus did not really care. Formalities were formalities and must be attended to, though. "Welcome aboard, Captain."

Taking his hand, Sam inclined her head. "Thank you, Commander." Sitting back down, she smiled. "So, is this just a social visit. or dare I ask if there is some ulterior motive?"

"If it makes you feel better, you can tell people it was a social purpose." He was at least honest. His job here was to give the new department head the 'welcome, here's your contact list, do this and don't do that list'. He put his PaDD down on her desk and took a seat. "What is your initial reaction?" After a short paused, he realized that his question was excessively vague. "Of the station, your department and living situation?"

Taking the PADD, Sam took a brief look at the contents before setting it aside for later digestion. "In reverse, quarters are quarters. I find Starfleet is fairly standard in it's accommodation of officers. Wen I was with the MAG-TF, we were housed in a starbase not unlike this. Smaller, of course, yet not altogether dissimilar. The department..." Her gaze slid out to the people still at work. "They know their stuff. It's a first rate team. I couldn't have asked for better." She took a sip of her coffee. "And the station? She's grand. I'll give you that. I've never been on a Stardock class before."

"It is very different than the others I have worked on." The fleet was a mobile defensive and exploration force. The idea of a bastion citadel in the sky above a planet seemed antiquated and proven to be a disaster (in the cases of the Khitomer assault by the Romulans) and the failure of Orbital Defenses in the Borg assault and Breen attacks on Earth. So why put a huge dock way out here? Someone said it was strategic. Some people just had no clue. Reinhart had not made his decision yet and left the thought at the table. "What are some of your goals aboard, Captain?"

'Not have to hunt down any more AWOL CO's.' She thought to herself. "Honestly? Get away from Cardassian Space. Too much time around there, and you start to get a little paranoid, know what I mean? Other than that... do my job, keep out of trouble, and see what the horizon holds for me."

"Now, I know there is an inkling of revenge in their current language, Captain. But what did you find there made you so paranoid? Their economy is in shambles. Their homeworld is still rebuilding. They don't have a snowflake's chance in hell at fronting any invasion force." He was blunt and honest, and found this woman's opinion intriguing. Their age was not far off. Their service experience was similar. Reinhart himself had fought a skirmish against Cardassians only a year ago, but to his belief a skirmish was their only capability.

Waving her mug of coffee at him, Sam smiled. "My dear Commander. They may have no military or infrastructure to speak of, but that doesn't stop them from being sneaky little buggars. An aging tiger near the end is at it's most fierce."

She had a point. It was widely accepted knowledge that a cornered snake is when it is most likely to attack. He disengaged that line of reasoning and took up another. The question was two-pronged: one for her personal opinion on the matter, and two if all fleet forces would be once again called to the Cardassian DMZ. "Disregarding that they are dangerous. Do you think it is likely?"

Taking a deep breath, Sam was almost reminded of a de-brief she had with MCI. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if Slayne had sent her here to be questioned by a whole new set of paper-pushers. "Honestly? We got a lot of Comm traffic, all of it saying different ideas. Best guess we could make? No one in the Cardassian Government really knew what they were doing, or could do. A situation that unstable? Only a matter of time before someone decides to pull the trigger and see what happens."

She did not make her agitation hard to read. A quick look at the clock on the wall was all he needed to know he was taking up her valuable time. He abruptly stood from his seat and nodded. "Very well, Captain Tennant. Welcome aboard. If you need anything, contact me or the Admiral." Without much else, he left the room. Intelligence priss. Dietrich continued his daily walkthrough, being more thorough in his mind with how he could have handled his introduction to the new Intel Officer than his duties at hand.

Watching the man leave, Sam saw the door close, and then counted to 100 in her head before turning on her terminal. "Computer. Secure file access. Give me the biographical detail on Commander Reinhart. Include any classified files. Authorisation Tennant-Sigma-Five-Kappa." She couldn't be sure, but her gut was telling her something odd was floating around.

::OFF::

This post is brought to you by:

Cmdr. Dietrich Reinhart
XO, Starbase-332

M. Capt. Samantha Tennant
CIO, Starfleet Intelligence
Assigned to Starbase-332