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Post by Tom Marsland on Jun 25, 2019 1:34:34 GMT
Wow. I think Tom needs to visit M/E more often. See if he can be the knife to cut that tension!
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Post by connorw on Aug 13, 2019 23:42:05 GMT
COMMENCING LOG, STARDATE 11908.13
With the monthly assessment completed, Gutey took a moment to wonder whether he had forgotten someone before finally taking a deep breath in his office chair, satisfied to tick that item off his never-ending list of tasks to complete.
Overall, he was satisfied by the steady progress of the crew. There was still much work to be done, but he could already think of Engineering as “his”, despite moments of tension with a handful of crewmen. Solving his issues with Inala was definitely one of his priorities before the situation would escalate further. Disappointed that after one year he couldn’t communicate his apprehension properly, he wondered when she would ever understand that he was genuinely trying to help her, and not antagonize her.
His thoughts were interrupted by the all-too-familiar sound of Condition Red.
“Red alert, we are under attack by a Maquis ship,” the intercom rumbled.
Gutey immediately stood up from his chair and was on the verge of leaving the room, when another voice interrupted his actions.
“Incoming communication on encrypted channels.”
The computer uttered the last words Gutey wanted to hear that moment, but he knew he had to answer.
He cautiously glanced around the room, just to remind himself that no one else was in his office.
“Computer, seal the doors, deactivate all sensors within this room, then establish communications.”
“Acknowledged,” the computer replied after processing the command.
As he expected, the communication was audio only, its quality garbled due to the extreme methods of obfuscation.
“Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you doing calling unexpectedly,” Gutey immediately yelled.
“Why are you always so uptight? Relax. You think I’m an amateur, after all this time?”
“This is really not a good moment, Francis,” he retorted, “the Maquis are attacking us, and they are probably focusing on the colony, too.”
“Interesting,” the man replied after a brief pause, “I’m assuming you have more data then.”
“Yes, but I can’t talk about it right now, as you can imagine,” Gutey insisted.
Francis sighed. “Right, right. I’ll be in touch shortly, then.”
“But this time,” the Starfleet officer interjected before he could close the comm, “don’t call unannounced. Back to the old ways, please.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know in advance.”
A sharp sound signalled the end of communications, and Gutey was left more anxious than before, but he didn’t have a moment to spare reflecting on what happened. He had to get to the bridge, fast, and pretend that everything was normal. His work was not complete yet, but he knew that a little more time was all he needed.
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Post by aoibheni on Aug 15, 2019 8:09:07 GMT
wait, wait... whaaaaat?!
Love this Connor. Can't wait to see what you do next.
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Post by Einar on Aug 18, 2019 7:50:07 GMT
nice! Can´t wait to see what you and A have cooked up here!
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Post by connorw on Aug 21, 2019 18:07:46 GMT
COMMENCING LOG, STARDATE 11908.21
Months ago, Deanna’s Resort, Betazed…
What am I still doing here?
That was all Gutey could think. How could he seriously follow the new Commanding Officer’s order to “relax” after everything he was going through? It had been awhile since he had any contact from his “employer”, including the R&R period he experienced at Starbase 56. Normally, this would be quite suspicious, but with them involved he thought that anything was possible.
Just as he finished that thought, Geoffrey saw a feeble reflection on the mirror of the resort’s room. He instantly turned around, trying to reach in his pocket for a phaser that he didn’t have.
“Welcome to Betazed, Commander.”
He saw a man sitting down on the chair, facing opposite the desk. All dressed in black, as tradition, with his legs crossed and conjunct hands, forming a triangle.
“How the hell did you get here,” a somewhat shocked Gutey asked.
The intruder sighed, shaking his head. “Why does everyone ask this question…”
The Starfleet officer recognized him as his main contact, “Francis”.
“Look, Francis, or whatever the hell your real name is,” he said while walking aggressively toward him, “I’ve had enough of this. I’ve done what you asked, it’s been a year now. There is no Maquis mole. My mission should be over.” The conversation reached aggressive tones almost immediately.
“Calm down, Gutey,” the agent answered trying to re-establish a civil conversation.
“Calm down?” He squinted his eyes. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to live under these conditions? To hide, to avoid saying anything, hell, even my body is…”
Francis interrupted him while remaining perfectly still, untouched by his words.
“I absolutely do, Gutey. You think I’m living an easy life? That I don’t have to hide either?”
Geoffrey realised he had a point, but in the end it wouldn’t matter, because he never wanted to be in his place. He wanted to just be himself.
“Ultimately, we both know that you and I have to do this for the greater good,” the operative continued, “which is why you won’t abandon this mission. You couldn’t anyway.”
The Martian kept staring at him for a few seconds, trying to find some counterarguments. He couldn’t find any at that moment. He knew that, at least for now, he had to stay in the game. For how long, he didn’t know.
“So,” Francis said after a long pause, “do you have any news for me?”
“Actually, I do,” Gutey responded, provoking a small reaction of surprise from the other man.
“What is it?”
“We suffered a peculiar act of sabotage weeks ago from an engineering crewman.”
Francis was visibly interested and relieved to finally hear some progress, nodding slowly.
“Go on.”
Gutey moved to the replicator on the opposite side of the room.
“You want anything?”
“No, thank you, please continue,” Francis said, anxiously waiting to hear the rest of the story.
“Scotch, on the rocks.” Gutey took the glass that materialised and walked towards the dark-dressed operative. He sat down on a nearby chair.
“A transporter malfunction caused by…ice cream.”
“Ice cream?”
“Correct. Apparently, Crewman Zol Frell left some residue while doing some maintenance work near the transporter housing unit. Somehow, sensors didn’t pick this up until after the accident, so the safety systems didn’t stop this in time. I collected all the data on an encrypted PADD.”
“Excellent,” the agent replied, now even more satisfied. “Crewman…Zol Frell, you said?”
“Yes. You know who he is?”
“We know he was briefly a part of the crew up until you docked at Starbase 56, where he disembarked and his assignment got changed.” Gutey nodded in reply, but he could tell that, strangely, he didn’t seem to know much about the Bolian.
“You were his department head,” the operative added, “can you tell me anything more about him?”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” he replied while placing down his glass to the table in front of him, “he mostly had non-essential, maintenance duties. A good way to not attract attention, if you ask me.”
Francis nodded in agreement, already planning his next steps.
“It certainly seems like a good starting point. I will tell my men to start tracking his moves, see if he leads us somewhere. In the meantime,“ he added raising himself from the comfortable chair and straightening his uniform, “I want you to send me all the data you gathered on this so far. I want his shift schedule, his movements, everything.”
“Will do,” Gutey replied.
The agent started moving towards the door, his pace as natural as usual.
“You know the frequency. I will contact you soon.”
He walked away as the automatic doors closed behind him. Geoffrey stood there, picking up his drink from the table, wondering for how long this had to go on.
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Post by connorw on Oct 26, 2019 17:23:14 GMT
COMMENCING LOG, STARDATE 11910.14
“Saleen, you have Engineering,” Gutey said while nervously walking towards the exit of his favourite deck. The Ensign nodded without uttering a word, as she noticed the Chief Engineer’s mood.
Geoffrey hurried to his quarters after the turbolift voyage, the glowing red alert lights accompanying his trip. As soon as the doors opened, he didn’t hesitate to give a command that was becoming more and more common in the past few weeks: “Computer, seal the doors, deactivate all sensors within this room, then establish communications on encrypted channels using algorithm Gutey alpha 7.”
“Acknowledged. Voiceprint confirmed. Establishing communications,” was the ship’s reply.
He paced around the room waiting for his contact to respond. A minute later, a blurry figure appeared on his monitor.
“This better be quick. What is it?”
“I wish you could tell me.” The other person looked puzzled for a few seconds.
“You’re the one on the ship. We’re good, but we’re not that good,” the contact emphasised with an overconfident frown.
“Our Captain has been kidnapped, and Feyna decided to team up with Niamh Danann to rescue him.”
The other interlocutor blinked. “You’re saying…”
“Yes,” Gutey immediately interrupted. “We are apparently cooperating with the Maquis.”
He could hear his grumbling from the ship’s audio emitters. No one spoke until the agent figured that the longer they were communicating, the easier it would have been to trace the signal.
“The situation must be worse than I thought. Gutey, you need to complete your mission – fast. We need names.”
The engineer could tell that Section 31’s patience was running very thin, and history showed how ruthless the secret organisation could be when they deemed it necessary.
He sighed in worry, then hesitantly muttered: “Danann seems to have some history with the Zorya and her crew. And Commander Feyna was the one who agreed to a deal with the Maquis leader. But this doesn’t mean…”
“We will be the ones making considerations. You do your part, we do ours.”
“I really don’t think she is the mole, Francis.”
“Maybe not,” he replied while his face grew closer to Gutey’s screen, “but if we act accordingly, it might scare the real mole off. They will make a mistake, and we’ll be waiting for them. And if nothing happens, well…then it means your Commander was the real mole after all.”
“You’re not seriously considering…”
“Yes,” the agent immediately voiced, interrupting Geoffrey for the second time.
“The hell you are! Do you have any idea of the repercussions? Do you even care about anyone at all?”
Francis approached his screen even closer, the shadow around him transforming more and more into light.
“I care about the fate of the Federation more than the entire crew of the Zorya, and whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. And remember why you’re doing this, Gutey.”
The name resonated through Geoffrey’s ears. He knew that trying to reason with him would have been nigh impossible, and that he had to find a way to warn the crew of the hidden, imminent danger without exposing himself, while time was running out.
“We are losing our patience, Commander. The next time we talk I expect the name of the real mole, otherwise we will proceed as discussed.”
With these words, the communication stopped. Gutey stood still, idly staring at his now-blank monitor, before remembering that he was supposed to be in Main Engineering.
“Computer, delete all internal sensor logs of the past hour and reset the room’s parameters.”
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