Permanent Change of Station

Posted on Wed 16th May, 2018 @ 10:44pm by Lieutenant Damion Ildaran & Lieutenant Jacen Miller

1,848 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Brushfires
Location: CIO's Office on Vanguard
Timeline: 1700 hours, the day after USS Hermes arrives at Vanguard

The colossus in space that was Starbase Vanguard floated in the darkness like the center of its own pseudo-planetary system, Damion Ildaran thought as he looked at its image on his office viewscreen on the USS Hermes. He shuddered at the thought of all that space with no walls. Vanguard was clearly a busy port, with more ships flitting about it than he could count, including a badly damaged one in drydock, if the sensors were accurate. When he couldn't stand seeing all that unbounded blackness anymore, he clicked away from the exterior image and back to the screen that displayed his orders.

This transfer was odd, to say the least. He was to go from being a department head to being an infiltration specialist again--at the same pay grade and rank he had now. Someone's trying to buy me off, he thought, and I just might let them. Not like I have much of a choice, anyway.

On the other hand, it meant that whatever Fleet needed him to infiltrate was likely to be dangerous and dirty. That was his specialty, looking and acting ruthless among people who were likewise. Well, he would just have to go and find out what was in the offing, Damion decided.

"Computer, open a secured channel to Lt. Jacen Miller's office on Vanguard Station, and request a time to report in."

As he was sitting down to enjoy a snack, the comm beeped in its nagging tone. Jacen rolled his eyes ceiling-ward before swiping at the controls a few times before he heard the confirming chirp from the computer.

"Miller, go ahead..."

A Scottish-accented voice spoke from the other end of the connection. "Lieutenant Miller? This is Lt. Damion Ildaran from the Hermes. I've received orders transferring me to Starbase 109 under your supervision. I'm due for a bit of shore leave before the transfer is final, but I thought it would be a good idea to meet with you before I formally come over. Is that agreeable to you?"

Jacen glanced out the window, but wasn't sure which ship out there was the Hermes."mmm yes, that sound like a good idea. Swing by my office whenever you get in. We can chat over a few drinks. Tell me Damion, are you a beer or wine man?"

"Beer," Damion said promptly. "We didn't have vineyards where I come from. What've you got in mind?"

"My family runs a brewery and a winery back on Earth. I brought several cases of beer along with me. Synth Ale is all well and good, but there is no substitute for the real thing."

"There certainly isn't," Damion agreed. "If you've the time, I'll be over in about fifteen minutes."

"You know where to find me." Miller affirmed.

Damion signed off, looked up the location of Lt. Jacen Miller's office, and headed down the boarding tube to Vanguard. He had seen images of the immense space station and felt that even the Hermes was dwarfed by it. Fortunately, travel through it was relatively simple--a system of turbolifts for short distances and a tram for longer ones ran from pole to pole of the station. Once in the turbolift, he requested the correct deck and then debarked, following signs through the circular grid of ring and spoke corridors.

The entrance to the Intelligence section was discreet, seeming almost an afterthought; Damion might have missed it had he not been looking for it. He announced himself to the receptionist, who informed the CIO that he had arrived.

"He's expecting you, Lieutenant. Go on in," the receptionist said.

Damion went through the door indicated and down the interior corridor until he came to the Chief Intelligence Officer's door. He rang the door chime, and the door slid aside, admitting him into the office. Damion entered and greeted the man inside. "Lt. Miller? Damion Ildaran."

Jacen looked up from a report he had been browsing.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. Please come in. Please, help yourself to a pint of beer. I have several varieties. I believe there is a stout, porter, pale ale and lager chilling." he said, waving towards the refrigeration unit in the corner. "I'm quite partial to the stout myself."

Damion blinked and looked about Miller's office. "Here, in a government office? Are you daft, man? Ah...thanks. I'll stick to water for a bit, if you don't mind. A porter sounds good, though. So how does a man with the good fortune to be born into a family that owns a brewery and a winery decide to chuck it all and enter Starfleet?"

"Yes, here. In my office." Jacen replied with a mischievous grin. "We are under an immense amount of stress unique to ourselves as intelligence officers. I will not begrudge anyone of us for an occasional indulgence. Little things, like a beer to ease the tension, can go a very long way. As far as what I'm doing here, as opposed to working the family business...Let's just say I'm far better at enjoying the product than I am at making it." Jacen walked over and poured himself a half pint of the stout. "Are you sure you won't join me?"

"I'd enjoy one after we talk," Damion said. "I can certainly understand being better at tasting the fruits of the vine than growing them. Grubbing about in the dirt or the hydroponics garden is not my idea of fun, either." He glanced at one of the chairs in Miller's office. "Mind if I sit?"

"Oh, by all means." Jacen replied, taking a sip of the fresh beer before returning to his seat. "Please, relax Damion. I only stand on formality when I absolutely have to." He paused for a moment, mulling something over in his head. "Now, why don't we get down to business?"

"Thanks," Damion said. He ordered a glass of water from the replicator and took a seat, leaning back comfortably in the chair Miller indicated. "So--I was DH for Intel on the Hermes. Now they send me here to do infiltration. It's a bit unusual, but considering we're so near the Triangle, perhaps not unexpected. I know the kind of assignments they typically send me on, so what do you lot need me to do?"

"As far as your prior posting is concerned, I consider myself lucky to have such a resource available to me. I am a spy, much more suited to dark alleys than well lit offices. This was not a posting that I desired, as is often the case. I may need to lean heavily on you until I figure out what exactly it is I am supposed to do. I'm going to allow you a good deal of autonomy in the missions you take. Too firm a hand from handlers and paper pushers often places missions and operatives in jeapordy." Jacen paused to collect his thoughts before continuing, "The local pirate group appears to be conspicuously well armed and organized...I'm sure you're aware of what happened to the Samurai. We need someone to infiltrate the organization and find out the specifics."

"Samurai--That's the ship out there that took the beating?" Damion asked. "That ship's a right mess. Sensors told me she took disruptor damage. Looks to me that the beams cut through her like a hot knife to cheese. It's the rare pirate group that stays around to fight a modern starship."

"Normally, this is the sort of assignment I would jump at, but I've been told that Chief Intelligence Officers aren't allowed to disappear into a deep cover assignment." He mused dryly.

"I'd gladly switch with you," Damion said in an equally wry tone.

Jacen slid a pile of PADDs across the desk to Damion. "If you're up for it, I have all the proper documents in place. Approved leave of absence, forged identity papers, the works. You'll begin as soon as you're able to."

Damion picked up the PADDs and began reading the draft of his legend. "Corin Durant. Hm. All right. I see you did some background work on me, as well. A drifter fix-it bloke. Do you already have in mind someone you want me to turn, or are you talking actual infiltration of the organization? It seems to me that turning someone who's already inside would be easier and faster than deep-cover infiltration. And if they're willing to use weapons that can tear a Federation starship apart, I'd think you'd want accurate information fast."

"There isn't much known about these Pirates..." Jacen replied, "I need information, Damion. Accurate information...and I don't particularly care how it's obtained. Bribery, double agents, deep cover; whatever you need to get the job done. If your record is anything to go by, you are a man who gets results. Communication will probably be limited, so make sure you get whatever you might need before you leave the station."

"Noted. They've tracked these pirates to somewhere inside the Triangle?" Damion asked. "Finding their location will be an interesting trick. Do I have a deadline on this assignment?"

"No," Jacen replied. "I don't think placing an artificial timeline on this will be beneficial. Time is something to be aware of, but let's focus on getting it right."

"It's good to work for someone who's familiar enough with the realities to dispense with the pointless bureaucratic BS," Damion said. "I appreciate that. You respect me, so I'll respect you. Have we a message drop anywhere in the area? How do you want me to report in, and how often?"

"Nobody understands us, do they?" Jacen replied impishly. "I think weekly check-ins, or more often, as needed. I'll leave that up to your discretion. As far as with how, there are plenty of operatives in the area. I believe they are using a contact on one of the local trading stations. The code name is 'Old Folks Home.' They should be able to get any reports out to me. Use the usual encryption codes."

"I'll do that," Damion said. He took care to memorize the code phrase for the drop location and glanced back at Miller. "If we're done with the business portion of this, I'd like to try that porter now. I figure your office, your rules."

Jacen grinned and waved towards the refrigeration unit. "Help yourself, my friend. I've got a limited supply of the real stuff, but I have uploaded a dozen or so beers and wines into the station's replicators...for a modest fee of course. Nothing is free, after all."

Damion chuckled and retrieved a bottle of tawny porter from Miller's refrigerator. In some respects, Miller was a bit like people he'd grown up with. "Probably pays better than spying," he said as he touched the neck of his bottle to Miller's and drank deep.

"Mmm" Jacen agreed as he drank. Removing the empty glass from his lips he smiled. "It's not nearly as entertaining though. Care for another?"

 

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