| May 15th, 2155
| Bridge, A-Deck, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1130hrs

Just when life had started to feel a bit normal on the ship, with nearly two whole days behind her, Chloe's whole world changed yet again now that Cayne was dead. Now the Discovery was sitting lifeless in space while they searched for however was responsible. Bishop was monitoring channels from her console on the bridge, but deep in thought. She very nearly jumped when the station reported the incoming hail. "Captain, the Andorian ship Docona is within subspace range. They're hailing us."

"Put them on the viewscreen, Chloe," Christina said. She hadn't been able to sit still in her chair for very long since she had emerged from her ready room following the announcement to the crew of Cayne's death and the statement of hope that the Andorian vessel would increase speed to rendezvous with them sooner than expected, but she had tried to make an effort not to appear to restless as she waited for the Andorians to arrive and for Luís to progress with his checking of the ship's systems. She took the opportunity for movement to make her way around and in front of the helm console, so that the viewscreen was almost the only thing she could focus her attention on.

Chloe adjusted her earpiece with one hand while reaching over her controls with the other. She was a linguist first, but she was quickly getting used to running the communication equipment. "Channel open."

The screen flickered on to show the Andorian captain seated on his bridge, "Captain Curtis, we detected your vessel drop out of warp, Is everything alright?" His antennae twitched curving slightly, revealing his concern. Dalton stood off to the side and behind the Captain's chair, his arms behind his back.

"There was an accident in one of our armouries," Christina answered, deciding that the best thing would be to tell the Andorians the truth, even if she didn't tell them the whole story. The Andorians were allies, but Admiral Gardner still wanted to keep information about Discovery's mission compartmentalised until the threat had been dealt with, so she didn't want to tell them that she thought there might be a saboteur onboard. "We decided to come to a stop until we can confirm that we aren't going to suffer any more accidents with any of our other systems."

"Understood Captain, we stand ready to assist. We have diverted course to intercept you at your current position, and increased our speed. Docona will rendevous with you in around 2 hours," The blue skinned captain replied.

"Thank you Commander," Curtis replied, remembering the differences between Andorian Guard and Starfleet ranks, where in the former commander was the rank given to a starship captain. "When you arrive you should use our starboard docking port - our forward port proximity sensors were damaged in the accident."

Nodding, "Docona out."

The viewscreen flickered off and returned to the view outside, the stars stationary.

---2 Hours Later---

| May 15th, 2155
| Starboard Docking Port, E-Deck, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1330hrs

Curtis watched the readout next to the airlock, waiting for it to report a hard seal with its companion on the Andorian vessel, and once the indicator flashed green, she hit the sequence to lock off the docking ring, preventing the attachment from coming loose accidentally. She then turned to the hatch and entered the sequence to unlock the inner door. Normally the transfer of personnel between two ships would be done in stages, always with only one hatch out of the inner and outer airlocks open. With the number of MACOs that would be coming through with their equipment however, Curtis had entered the manual override to allow a direct passage from one ship to the other.

Dalton ran through his mental checklist in his mind, as well as his written checklist on the PADD in his left hand. His right hand held his Drill Cane firmly, index finger over the base of the brass casing, slightly tarnished from his having handled it. Didnt help he was sweating. However cold the Andorian vessel, didnt stop the nervous perspiration. His issues were not of how prepared his people were, but more the current MACO persona, he had to work at changing the opinion of this Starfleet crew, a group for all intents and purposes, explorers. The military doctrine of his organization did not fit well with their ideals, and would definitely put him at odds. Having to also contend with previous incidents with MACO/Starfleet personnel was also a concern.

Being first to step on to the Discovery was Dalton's prerogative, having to hand over his orders to his new CO and formally request to come aboard. Made a lot easier when he was first to come across. Captain Curtis could say no. He smiled to himself, then looked over to his people assembled behind him in a loose gaggle of equipment bags and crates. He made eye contact with a couple, who straightened up slightly as he did so. He looked through the group to see Ragnar getting the weapons and equipment crate ready to bring aboard. Ragnar gave a small nod after one last count. There was the hope that there would be some 'Starfleet Sherpas' as Sergeant Richards, the detachment's medic, had coined, to help them bring their equipment across. Otherwise it would be a couple of trips. Deck E was one deck above the MACO training section, and one deck below their quarters, lots of carrying. Another day in the MACOs.

The last of the seals cycled open and the dull hiss of the hydraulics started the movement of the large circular blue door. He wondered if he rated high enough on the Captain's list to get her as a welcome party, or any of her senior staff. However nervous, he was eager to be on an Earth vessel again.

"Lieutenant Wakefield, I assume?" the captain said as the hatch opened and the MACO commander stepped through.

Standing as upright as he could, with his right hand he tucked his drill cane under his arm, and gave a salute. His arm returning swiftly to beside him, "1st Lieutenant Dalton Wakefield, Commanding MACO Detachment, Callsign Salamander. Requesting permission come aboard," He said in a regimented fashion.

"Permission granted, welcome aboard," Curtis answered, following the official protocol for welcoming new personnel onboard. She took the PADD of the Lieutenant's orders and, after a quick glance, she tucked them under her arm. "I'm afraid we don't have many personnel to spare for helping your team bring aboard their equipment, but if you need the extra bodies, I think we can spare a few able hands to bring your crates in."

He slackened a bit as now the official bit was over, "I have exactly the right amount of personnel Ma'am," He said with a wry smile. Picking up his equipment he added, "Its just going to be two trips."

| May 15th, 2155
| Captain's Ready Room, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1400hrs

1st Lieutenant Wakefield walked briskly through the corridors, his gear unceremoniously placed in a corner of his office on E-Deck, before about-facing and marching straight out to meet the Captain. He had left his Sergeants to get his people squared away, he had given them an hour to have everything stowed and ready for an inspection. The MACO section on E-Deck was basically a mess, some bulkheads were missing their allotted lockers or consoles. The situation table was still in its shipping container, disassembled. Dalton's office was almost completely barren, with everything still residing where it was dropped by the Starfleet installers. He had given them a massive task he knew they wouldn't finish, but they would try their darnedest. He had his reasons, the more stuff they put away or assembled themselves, the less he would have to request the Captain get her Engineers to do, their time was precious. Especially now, having to put the Armoury back together.

He had also instructed Staff Ragnar to have them in 'Garrison gear' and assembled for a briefing upon his return. Rifle, sidearm, webbing belt and baton, he wanted to be ready to move if the Captain needed him to. Dalton was looking forward to knowing exactly what was going on on board ship, why everyone seemed so grim. Looking down to his PADD, Dalton was glad he brought it along as he finally found the turbolift he had been seeking.

Stepping out onto the bridge, he marveled for a moment at the complexity of the panels and consoles, the Docona was a little more on the simpler side, but they had been at space longer than humans. He envisioned a day were there would be mahogany wood paneling and carpet on starship bridges such as these, and leather seats. Probably not his lifetime he mused. Finding the Captain's ready room he walked up and pressed the door chime, awaiting a response.

"Come in!" came the call from inside the room.

"Thank you ma'am," He said entering the rather cramped room, he made a mental note to check the blueprints to see if his office fared better for size.

"Welcome aboard Discovery, Lieutenant, Curtis said, standing as she saw who it was who had come to the ready room. She was glad the MACO hadn't taken too long getting his men sorted - the Docona had departed as soon as the MACOs and their equipment was aboard, and Curtis had told the MACO commander to come and see her as soon as he could.

"Captain, might I say Discovery is mighty impressive, and atmospherically very comfortable," He said, flexing his fully thawed fingers behind his back.

"Yes, I understand the Andorians keep the temperature on their ships a fair few degrees lower than we do," the captain answered, picking up on the particular wording of the man's compliment. She felt sorry that she wasn't in the mood to trade a few more light comments with their new arrival, but she needed to get down to business, and the MACOs were going to be critical to keeping the ship safe.

"Lieutenant, I'm sure you've noticed the grim atmosphere around the ship by now. And I'm sure that you are curious as to why we left spacedock two weeks before we were supposed to. The truth of it is, we're on a time-sensitive mission that Admiral Gardner wants to keep compartmentalised - at least for now. We have intelligence that indicates an operative of Terra Prime is going to try to bomb the Tellarite compound on Deneva Colony. We've been sent to stop him."

The tone of his Commanding officer hit him with a smack of guilt, he shouldn't have been so jovial, "My people stand ready in any way to assist," He said, about halfway through his sentence, he realised he spoke of something the Captain already knew.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid that a sympathiser of Terra Prime is aboard this ship. There was an explosion this morning in the armoury that killed my armoury officer and XO. We found evidence that an explosive device was placed on the portside proximity sensor components behind the bulkhead - a device that wasn't there yesterday."

Dalton's clenched his jaw tighter, and nodded curtly, "Captain, I am sorry for your loss," he said, pausing a moment before thinking the right question to ask, the flurry of questions and adrenaline didnt help.

"Are there any suspects, or possible areas they may place additional charges?" He pulled his PADD out of his pants pocket, and brought up a fresh notes page, ready to take down as much detail as needed.

"Commander Carpegiani is going through service records of the crew now; trying to find any possible ties to Terra Prime or hints at who might sympathise with them. So far we haven't been able to put together any suspects. I'm also having Lieutenant Anziano and his engineering team sweep the ship, looking for any other devices. Of course it doesn't help that we don't know if one of his team were responsible in the first place, so they're all being supervised by ship security.

"Your MACOs are, for now, the only people aboard this ship who I can be absolutely certain were not involved, so I want you to take point on security for now. I want you to have men stationed in critical areas of the ship - engineering, the bridge, the armouries, and the antimatter storage pods. I don't want them to get in the crew's way, but they need to be watching for anyone who may be attempting to sabotage other areas of the ship. As soon as we can confirm that there are no explosives on any of our critical systems and those areas are secured, we'll be resuming course for Deneva."

"Understood, It pains me to say I feel I don't have enough people to meet demand. I recommend pairing one of mine with one of yours, maintain a high level of presence. They will operate on closed comms and any actions will go through my MACOs. It will also help to show that you still, to a degree, trust your people," Dalton said after a moment of contemplation. He wrote down his ideas to his PADD, starting to assign duties on his roster.

Christina nodded, agreeing with the military officer's judgement.

"Do we know the sit-rep on Deneva?" He asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.

The captain shook her head. "There's been nothing in any news reels about anything happening there, so our best estimate is that Mosstaff hasn't arrived yet. Or if he hasn't he hasn't carried out his plan yet. Admiral Gardner doesn't want to risk contacting the colony unless we are certain we won't get there on time. He doesn't want any threat leaking on the newsnets, and he doesn't want Mosstaff to find out that we know what he's up to, for fear that he'll accelerate whatever plans he has."

"If the terrain and time provide, I would like to send a advanced team down to observe and report. A couple of hours should do. Then keep them in place as a support asset," Dalton asked, hoping he would get a good amount of intel, besides orbital scans.

"If Starfleet had been able to reverse engineer the Suliban pod that Enterprise got their hands on a few years back, then we'd be able to send you on your way now," Curtis sometimes relished the level of technology that the other races around them had been able to achieve. She shook her head slightly. "Unfortunately Starfleet's best can't figure out how they made a ship so small and with no nacelles warp-capable, let alone quick enough to keep up with an NX class. As it is, when we get there we're probably going to have to play it by ear. I'll try and give your men a couple of hours in the colony, but if we need to move to stop Mosstaff from doing what he plans, then we can't delay."

"Thats all I can ask for ma'am, thank you," Dalton answered, "Was there anything you needed to ask of me. I would rather get any of your concerns out of the way now rather than later?"

Curtis looked at him for a moment, and considered asking him about how his teams would integrate with the less-rigid and non-military structure of the Starfleet crew onboard, in light of previous incidents between MACOs and Starfleet officers during the first few months of Enterprise's mission to the Expanse. She then recalled the later reports, both from Enterprise and Columbia, that had stated that the MACOs had merged with the crew quite effectively, and that any incidents between them were now relatively rare. "No, thank you, Lieutenant," she said after a pause. "That'll be all."

Dalton stood, head already buzzing with his next actions. He nodded to the Captain as he took his leave, "Oh and ma'am, 0500 I'm scheduling a 2km jog around D-Deck, going to be a regular thing. Any personnel are able to join, but if it gets too popular we may have to stagger the timings," He said, rambling a bit, looking at the Captain's stern look, "Just a thought," He finished before leaving the room.

Unzipping his communicator pouch, Dalton opened up a closed MACO only channel to Ragnar, "Actual to Thegn, message over."

----

| May 15th, 2155
| Various, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1410hrs

"Actual to Thegn, message over."

“This is Thegn, send, over,” Came the reply from Staff Sergeant Ragnar, who had been given the callsign from Norse history, denoting an experienced warrior, trusted above others in a Jarl’s militia. Fitting for a First Sergeant.

“Stand to, Salamander 1-1 and 1-2 to deploy individuals to the following locations, Wait one,” Dalton said, not missing a step, taking out his PADD to relay the information. His tone was clear but low as he walked briskly through the corridors. Tapping the send button, he then saw the received receipt for the message.

“Salamander units to stay at these positions until relieved only by other Salamander personnel. Garrison loadout. Head to the Armoury and assign each Salamander with a Security partner, who are to report only to the Salamander they are with. Any movement of Starfleet personnel is to be reported through our people. Action this time now,” He continued entering the turbolift.

“Affirm, Oscar mike in 2 mikes.”

“Copy Thegn, out to you, Actual to Helix, message over,” Dalton said, now opening up a channel to his section medic.

“Helix here Actual, send traffic.”

“Helix report to MACO operations and set up a communications den. Take record of Salamander comms, over.” Stepping out of the turbolift on F Deck, and proceeding straight to the Armoury.

"Copy Actual, wilco."

"Acknowledged out," he slipped his communicator away. Before making a turn into the large armoury.

Dalton marveled at the damage, scorched wall panels and circuitry, most being replaced by Engineers who ferried back and forth. It was marvellous that the explosion had not struck the magazines and taken the saucer with it. He presumed the man he wanted was here overseeing the repairs.

“I need an Ensign Wilson please,” Dalton said, startling some in the quiet busy room.

“Whaddya need,” A voice from the corner said, in a distinct Australian accent, Wilson popped into view, his eyes widened slightly seeing the MACO in his distinct camouflage uniform, in stark contrast to the monotone panels behind him, “…Sir.”

“At ease Ensign, I need your cooperation, 8 of your best bodies to head to the following locations as sentries,” he said, handing across a PADD, “The Captain has given me authority to secure vital areas for the time being,” Dalton explained.

Wilson nodded, looking annoyed, “Sure thing sir.”

It looked like he hadn’t slept for the best part of a day, “One less thing for me to do,” he sighed.

“It’s only temporary, until the investigation is over. I do however need your people to report through mine, whatever they do, wherever they go. And Sidearms only.”

“Yup, no worries,” Wilson continued, “Was there anything else?”

“What part of Australia are you from?” Dalton asked, changing tact.

“Melbourne, why do you ask?” Wilson said, slightly shocked at the question.

“I grew up in Melbourne, till I was 15,” he said with a slightly more Australian tang to his accent.

“No kidding!” He outstretched his hand “Mark Wilson,” he said as Dalton shook it.

“Dalton Wakefield, good to meet you Mark,” He said, “I will have to leave you to it, I need your people in place in 5 minutes,” And with one final nod Dalton took his leave. Time to meet the XO.

| May 15th, 2155
| Medical Lab, Sickbay, E-Deck, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1000 hrs

Behind the set of double doors marked with caduceus symbols on E deck was the Discovery's sickbay. Laboring in the medical lab was a lonely figure in a surgical gown. Laying on a table before her was the prone and still body of late Commander Dewitt Cayne. An autopsy is generally a solemn occasion and when the medical examiner is a Vulcan it didn't add the slightest bit of cheer. Crewman 1st Class Maria Ribbons was standing nearby in surgical scrubs assisting.

"I still can't believe somebody's died," Crewman Ribbons babbled, "and it's the first officer no less! Good God, if this is how our trip starts how is it going to end?"

"It will likely end with my calling Petty Officer Mercedes in here," Doctor Maya quipped dryly. "I understand your anxiety, Maria, but I find it distracting."

"You understand my anxiety?" Maria Ribbons blinked. "Really? I thought that Vulcans didn't have..."

"My apologies," Maya interrupted. "I really don't understand your anxiety. I was merely being polite."

"Oh," the medical orderly muttered.

The door hissed open behind them.

"It seems we have a visitor," Maya commented dryly.

Leo was feeling tense as he strode through the sickbay doors, his jaw set tight and his lips thin. Since the explosion and his unexpected battlefield promotion to first officer he had done the same thing he always did when faced with a high stress situation; he gritted his teeth and focused on the job at hand. Whether it was conducting an experiment ahead of a high pressure deadline or leading an investigation into an attack on a starship, Leo would dive in head first and get the job done.

After issuing orders to the security teams and taking a brief report from the engineering department, he made his way down to sickbay for the next, grim step in his investigation. The body of Commander Cayne - it helped not to think of him as Dewitt - lay on bed in the centre of sickbay attended by two medical staff, one of whom Leo immediately recognised as the ship's Vulcan CMO.

"Doctor Maya," he said, getting the doctor's attention as he walked toward her and her junior colleague.

"Commander Carpegiani, welcome to sickbay," the little Vulcan replied while clasping her hands and gracing him with a formal nod. "It is unfortunate that we haven't gotten better acquainted before now, and a greater pity that it was not under more pleasant circumstances. Crewman Ribbons and I were examining Commander Cayne and attempting to recover any bomb fragments that could aid you in identifying the explosive."

Leo looked down at Cayne's body as he approached. He had barely knew the man, but there was a growing familiarity there; enough to make seeing his lifeless corpse send a shiver of grief through him. He swallowed and kept his composure, looking back to the doctor. "What have you found?" he asked, focusing on the job.

"Most of the damage inflicted on Commander Cayne was cosmetic," Maya informed him, "nothing that he couldn't recover from. The true culprit was a small splinter of metal that punctured his jugular vein. I understand that on your planet the phrase 'to go for the jugular' is an expression used to convey a decisive attack at a target's weakest point, an idiom that conveys viciousness as well as tactics. Miss Ribbons, could you give the commander the fragments we've been able to recover please?"

"Here you go sir," Crewman Ribbons murmured as she handed Leo a clear sealed bag containing tiny shards of metal with suspicious reddish brown stains.

"Given the relative weakness of the explosion I don't think that homicide was the motive," the little Vulcan continued. "If Commander Cayne would have been standing a centimeter to the left he would have recovered, and quickly. As it was it he bled out before I arrived. Did you know the commander?"

Pure luck, Leo thought to himself. A little over this way, a little over that way. That was all the difference it made. He looked down at the metal in the bag and turned it over, peering at the sharp points, the blunt edges, the twists, the scrapes and the blood stains. How fickle fate is, he thought.

He looked up after a moment, realising that the doctor was waiting on an answer. "Not very well," he replied, deliberately looking the doctor in the eye and avoiding looking down at Cayne's body. "I hadn't met him before joining the Discovery. Have you been able to recover any other evidence from his body?"

"If you're asking for foreign matter, Crewman Ribbons gave you what we've been able to recover so far," Doctor Maya replied. "The commander's last meal was bacon and eggs and an overcooked slice of bread that I believe is called 'toast' as well as orange juice. He also has burns on his face and a trace a residue that likely came from whatever substance caused the blast but that will come out in chemical analysis. There is no trace of such a residue on his hands, so it is unlikely that Commander Cayne set the explosive."

Leo nodded and tucked the evidence bag into the pocket on the left sleeve of his uniform. "Very good, Doctor," he said. "See that you forward me the chemical analysis as soon as it is ready. Grazie." With that, he turned and headed for the door.

Leo had almost left sickbay when he heard Maya's mezzo-soprano voice behind him.

"Commander, a moment please."

The science officer stopped and turned on his heel to face the doctor again. He cocked his head slightly to the left and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

The little Vulcan tilted her head slightly to the right and also raised an eyebrow. It was as if the two of them were performing a 'mirroring exercise' in a performance class. "Commander, I am not familiar with the doctrine and tactics of Terra Prime. Thus far, my only exposure to them has been through the reports of the Associated News Media Service on your planet. Could you please enlighten me?"

Leo stiffened gritted his teeth every so subtly. He had little first-hand experience with Terra Prime, but it was hard to be in Starfleet long and not be affected by their atrocities in one way or another. For him, it had been former colleagues maimed or murdered and he had developed a very hard line against them. He considered his response for a moment, his thoughts coalescing through his mind, condensing all of the rage and anger he felt towards them into some sense.

Maya squinted as she attempted to read Leo's face and body language. He was attempting to conceal his aggression, but was his aggression caused by the death of Commander Cayne or the presence of an alien invading his personal space?

"Doctor," he said after a moment's thought. "They represent the absolute worst of humanity. Their doctrine is one of hate and theirs are the tactics of terror. We thought we'd dealt with them when their leader was arrested, but this -" he gestured to the medical lab doors that concealed Cayne's corpse "- would suggest otherwise."

Maya turned her head to glance in the direction of the doors to the medical lab before returning her catlike gaze to the human. "Yes, regretfully xenophobia is not unique to your species. My own people recently uncovered a xenophobic faction that had taken over the High Command. Is it possible that they have infiltrated Starfleet as well?"

Leo sighed heavily, the thought having occurred to him previously and it still filled him with dread. "It is absolutely possible, Doctor," he said before expanding his thoughts a little, even if he didn't know why. "As your people were once so quick to point out to us, human beings are very emotional creatures. Throughout our history people have manipulated the emotions particularly fear of others for their own political purposes. In particular, they use fear. Fear of difficult economic circumstances, fear of different cultures and, more recently, fear of alien cultures. An organisation like Terra Prime would not even need many of its sympathisers to be a part of Starfleet to wreak a great havoc on us. All it takes is one individual in a crowd of a thousand to do a lot of damage."

The first officer paused and mulled the implications, allowing the silence to linger between him and the doctor until finally breaking it. "Whether they have or not remains to be seen," he said, reverting to his more comfortable empirical outlook. "But it is possible."

"The fact remains that I am the only extraterrestrial aboard the Discovery," Maya replied, "and I have not been able to eliminate any of the ship's personnel as potential suspects. As an alien, I am a possible target for a xenophobe who believes that cooperation with my people weakens your species. Using empirical data, who can I trust aboard this vessel?"

The Earth-man had twenty centimeters of height and over twenty kilograms of weight over the Vulcan. From Leo's perspective, she looked very small indeed. The irrational humans aboard the Discovery must have looked very threatening to Maya. She was alone on a new ship, completely unfamiliar with the crew, and somewhere aboard this ship there was someone who considered her people the enemy. From her perspective who could she trust?

Leo considered that for a moment. With all that had happened, he hadn't considered her position as the only alien aboard. While the Discovery was hunting a member of a xenophobic human organisation, any non-human would inevitably feel isolated and uncomfortable. He didn't know Doctor Maya from a bar of soap, but at the same time he didn't want her to be isolated. He considered for a moment, feeling uncomfortable himself with having to provide some measure of comfort to someone he'd just met.

"On the evidence, I don't know who you could trust among the crew. You know that there is someone aboard who holds hostile feelings toward extraterrestrials and until you know who that is everyone is suspect." He paused and crossed his arms before adding, "That being said, none of us can operate as part of a crew - part of a team - without having some trust in our crewmates. You can trust the captain. You can trust me. You can trust the vast majority of your crewmates, Doctor. If you have any trouble, or feel that you are in danger, call me or call the captain."

"Very well," replied as she tilted her head to the right instead of nodding. "In the meantime I would like permission to peruse the records of the Discovery's personnel. Even if I do not find the saboteur it should be possible to eliminate suspects."

Leo looked at her for a moment and furrowed his brow slightly. "Doctor, you are the chief medical officer aboard this ship. You already have full access to the crew's records. If you wish to get any higher access, you should speak directly with the Captain."

"Thank you," the little Vulcan replied with a respectful nod. "I will let you proceed with your investigation Commander."

May 15th, 2155
[ Commissary For Earth Operations Personnel ]

Oatha pulled the bug off of the millet order with a curled lip. Tellarites had little patience for Human cuisine, they preferred simple, directly cooked items, then usually doused it in dry seasonings. The stocks for the commissary were in pitiful shape. It hurt her sensibilities to have to use infested or blighted materials, but the journey from Earth to Deneva was long, and there were no farms on Deneva, yet. This would all change soon, her son was expected back with an Earth/Starfleet join expedition for the conference coming up. They were bringing in tons of new supplies, as were the Tellarites who were bringing raw materials to build a new cities worth of shops and structures for hte growing alliance.

"Alain, can you take this down to bio-bay two, they can use the mealworms for their chicken feed. Have the millet re-sequenced too please." Her kitchen boy promptly grabbed the fifty pound sack and darted off, his recent experiences with Oatha told him she would tolerate no less than his best effort. She continued to sort the stocks, it had only been a month ago she took this job, and no re-stick had come in that time. The bottom of the drawer greeted her as she searched for fresh produces, greens, anything with nutritional value. Protein powder with nutritional supplements abounded, but the Humans of the base here deserved better than that.

She pulled up the manifest of the incoming ships and inventories, Meats for the feast, a variety of produce, animal renderings and spices from all corners of earth and her colonies. The quantities were way too low, she found her self searching to fill even a single order she had made. upcoming one entry in particular called her attention.

>Estes Trade Co. #443987-BV: Tapa Root Extract (50.0 L)

Such an amount was unheard of, nobody in any Kitchen would have a possible need for fifty liters of the most bitter root extract known. Vulcan Rishaya Nettle could make a human break out in hives, but Tapa made it a mild and enjoyable soup. This amount was more than a wholesale bundle package, and it was expensive... she couldn't understand why it was being sent to the outpost, Deneva wouldn't use that much in a year, especially considering it spoiled quickly and easily, after mere weeks unless hyper compressed and sealed tight in massive units. Even then its shelf life was barely more than six months, the supply would already be turning by the time it arrived here...

It was when she saw the rest of the manifest in comparison that her anger was truly piqued. The requisition of meats was cut by a third, Produce was only filled on two vendors, meaning the diversity needed to make a variety of her courses were also left behind. This was all to make room for the canisters, they were expensive barrels, temperamental expensive, and generally disliked product. It had taken twice as much for the space, and now the Commissary was out many of its vital supplies. Her budget was almost half of the cost of the haul. the commissary was poised for a massive loss, something her EO superiors would blame on her.

She walked out of the Kitchen in a huff, in times like this she usually cut to the quick and addressed her problems directly.

"O... O!! Oatha!!!!" Someone calling her name finally broke through at her full saying. Stopping to turn at the aggressor she realized she was covered in blood, juices, and holding a cleaver. The galley waitress looked at her sheepishly, no words needed to be said.

"I think zis would convey a stronger message, D'accord?

[Earth Operations Headquarters- Deneva]

"The shipment is arriving Ms. La Jeune, a little late, but-"

"Ahh, pas de tout, non probleme but the shipment being a few days late. As if it werent my own son at the helm of the that freighter... Oh vous tromper , vous fraction d'un homme"

"i will not be insulted in my office like this-" He blustered under her rebuke, oblivious to her ire and genuine anger.

"You 'ave co-opted my shipment, changed ze order, HOW can I meet the demands of the EO and this conference if you are having changes made without telling me. you have spent three months of my budget-" Her anger dissipated into a seamless liquid fury as he interrupted her.

"You have no budget Ms. La Jeune, you are not an Earth Operations administrator, you are a cook, albeit an experienced and senior member of the team. Cargo requisitions fall under the purview of the EO commisar-"

"Are you not acting commissar in the absence of the Ambassadors staff, were you not the acting commisar when zis order was placed!" -" She knew the ambassador had been off-world for three months and during that time her order had been placed. He had been the one to make the changes, and tried to make it look like he hadn't. His cover-up and present displeasure was further proof something was wrong with all of this. A sixth sense for danger told her to stop this confrontation in its tracks before he realized she was into him. Best to make this a case of simple surly Oatha pushing her boss's buttons.

"They had communications access with Deneva for several weeks after departing. The sub-space buoy was deployed Oatha, times are changing. We can talk to Earth directly if we want."

It was nonsense, and she knew it. Tybald had walked her through Starfleet paranoia and security for computer systems. Anything transmitted over subspace was open to question, able to be corrupted, changed, local administrators still had jobs due to this.

"Very well Mr. Pykman. I will only be able to make some of the tea and root stew, the rest will spoil days after it is opened." She watched him carefully, if he were genuinely just doing this to be difficult he would care for the lost money.

"You'll manage O, now I have things to attend to, see you tonight. What's for dinner?"

With a grimace, O tried to look sad, she would send a special meal up to the Admin suite. That millet would make a wonderful bread dessert for the Bureau Chief.

"Oh honey, I got some Millet and Stir fry for you. Bon appetit."

*** Earlier that week***
May 12th, 2155
[Commercial Freighter NC-45-11 "Pasqaule"]

Tybald tried to pitch to port, the yaw was not responding and the lazy swing of the tail section threatened to send their supplies flying across space. Piloting the J and L class had been hard, the tugantine engines attached as mules would respond atypically, requiring a pilot to gain a feel and experience for a console and ships particular reaction. Tybald managed to get the ship on axis and aligned to the Z coordinate plane for final approach. Warp 2 was still way too fast for piloting errors, Tybald was glad the ship finally responded, it needed an overhaul but outside of Starfleet there were no standards other than Earth Cargo Authority to regulate shipping. This ship though massive cargo-wise, was an ancient and decrepit hauler.

He hit the comm, rousing the four man crew on board. "Approach to Deneva, thirty minutes and counting." After the month of solemn flying, barely one other person to share a partial shift and interact, Tybald was ready to see the sights of Deneva again. Those Tellarites built massive complexes, some of them he could fly a shuttlepod into with room to spare in the hallways. His ship was loaded with food and medical supplies, refrigerated and suspended in cryo animation, speed and uneventful travel were the rule of law. They would deliver the supplies to Starfleet and the Tellarties and await further orders, and Tybald resigned himself to piloting freight for the time being, his service to Starfleet still young.

"Stop the ship. Now."

A voice came from behind Tybald, and it was unfamiliar. Daring to look, Tybald saw another human, he looked tense, his life was on the line and he knew it. The man was tall, well dressed, had the air of a rich aristocrat, and he held a Compression pistol, full slugged. Jet black hair slicked into a snakes eyes and forehead, while his lithe form bulged under the suit he was wearing showing off clear athleticism.

"I am afraid I can't-"

One slug fired, embedding into the hull inches from Tybald's foot.

"Now!." The Gritted teeth sold the urgency, the pistol underlined the order.

Tybald was the only Starfleet officer on board, the relief pilot was an able crewman but no ace pilot, they had only needed Tybald as their piloting company withdrew their contracted employees without explanation. The ship needed eight, but was running on four, this was all a setup from the beginning, except they didnt plan that Starfleet was part of the plan. It made sense if someone was to hi jack the shipment they would start by dispatching him. He had a second to act, so he swirled in the seat and did the only thing he could think of.

>Maglock Stricture release, Emergency Override.

In an instant the Warp ship detached, unencumbered by its ever-shifting burden as fifty crates detached at low warp to tumble into normal space. The IDF on old tugs like this was always slow, the sudden jump inspeed cause the man holding the gun to be thrown backwards nearly a dozen meters to land unconscious. It was then that he became aware of two other crew at the bridge door, both armed. thankfully these bridges were a panic room of sorts, even transporters could be diced to bits by the Keldonite infused materials. The door slammed and he activated the defence protocols, he heard pounding on the door, but it held firm. With a fast pace he ran through systems, engines were available, but main computer was off-line, as was communications. The men at the door would get through in minutes, he would need to leave and hide soon, but he desperately searched for an escape plan while there was time.

Long range sensors weren't disabled either, Deneva was three days away, but there was another vessel en route he could intercept sooner. Though there was no ID tag, he recognized a Starfleet NX warp profile when he saw it. It took the rest of his time to lock the systems into self-destruct should the course change, and he set to intercept the vessel. Comms were down but now he had four hours to fix that before they intercepted the Starfleet ship. The door parted an inch, iron bars for leverage prying against the hydraulics, Tybald took his leave. A ship this size, eight decks, most of which were four cargo bays, not to mention the extension apparatus for holding up to fifty cargo pods at a time... they wouldnt stand a chance of finding him, these ships were labyrinths.

Four hours... he couldn't imagine not seeing his mother aver again, and didn't want the same fate as his father. Starfleet was his family, and they would save him.

-End-


(I dont know how to do signatures...?)

| May 15th, 2155
| Tactical Armory Station, Andorian Imperial Guard Vessel Docona, At Warp
| 1340hrs

Tal Sek marveled at the backwards engineering, and for the redundancies they built to compensate. One might say over engineered, but to expect failure and create specific redundancies for every foreseeable situation was a paranoia he appreciated. Humans tried to prepare for anything, this explosion disabled the mechanism that switched the proximity sensor mains to the back up, but there was a third unit that came into play barely a minute later. His personal assessment was this was no simple act of sabotage, but a puzzle piece of a larger plot.

He wished to have the MACO's here, he had questions about the tech at work, it was unfamiliar at best. The marines may have left, but Tal still chuckled at the banter and instant camaraderie he had experienced. Though antiquated, they had achieved a level of style that showed they could compete even despite their clear disadvantage. It took quite the culture to make their way in nothing but metal hulks to the deepest space. It harkened to the days of solar sailing for his people, the lunar wars, elliptical conflicts... These humans had bypassed that stage and had..."gone to the adults table" a phrase Tal could appreciate being the youngest of four.

The Commander had known there was more to the story then was let on, but had given them the respect of not asking. With nothing but their most subtle scans to go on Tal nonetheless felt the explosive was a red salmon. The true intent of the sabotage was the redundancy for Proximity sensor alarms. If the Mains had been disabled the secondaries would be absent, a built in delay would create a period of time... It would create an exploitation for someone to come and go... if the traitor was on board they were planning on using this to escape at some point, instinct confirming though years of chasing leads down exactly like this.

"Tal Sek to Tactical Watch. Relay message to Commander for approval, emergency transmission to Discovery."

Tal enclosed the data, it would show how to find the evidence of someone who had likely snuck on board at some point after construction crews were cleared from the final inspection. Lack of that evidence would prove a member of the crew was a member of Terra Prime. Either fact was perilous to consider, but his years of counter insurgency training compelled him to action. That explosion had not been intended for now, likely the act of discovery activated a fail-safe to cover the trail. The Discovery had an agent in operation...

Tal's communication link chirped, and the face of the Commander appeared on his screen barely a second later. It was pretty usual for the commander to just open a channel to someone who had contacted him about something rather than wait for the connection to be accepted, so it was no particular surprise. "Lieutenant. This information you want to transmit to the pink-skin ship; you realise that they didn't inform us of the nature of their 'accident' onboard? If your theory of an operative of a terror organisation on their vessel is true, they likely want to keep information about it off the subspace channels."

His antennae jerked in an automatic reaction to the Commander, both of them and him sat up ramrod straight. He knew better than to send this to the pink skins directly, but to delay or hold back vital intelligence would cost lives. Tal hoped the Commander would feel the same way, the Discovery may balk that they were scanned by an ally, but Tal was willing to bet they would be twice as grateful if a traitor was rooted out.

"Commander, my thanks for your attention. I wished for your approval for these reasons precisely, I am no shrewd politician, I seek to save lives and root out traitorous cowards. The Pink skins are in danger, I volunteer to take the reprisal for the breach of Tactical etiquette, but we must act quickly!"

The Commander thought for a brief moment, before nodding, his antennae curling inwards slightly. "I agree we need to warn them, but I think their interests would be best served for us to not use subspace to do so. I will order a reverse course, and then you will come aboard Discovery with me and explain your findings directly to their captain." He turned to issue the commands to the helm officer. "We shall be back at the pink-skin's location within minutes. Meet me at the airlock."

| Captain's Ready Room, Discovery NX-04, Deep Space
| 1350hrs

As the hatch to Christina's ready room slid open, it admitted the two Andorians from the Docona, which had reappeared and hailed requesting permission to dock less than half an hour after it had dropped off the MACOs. Christina hadn't had the time amongst the other things she was trying to do to meet their unexpected visitors at the airlock, but had had one of the officers not currently involved in the checking of the ship for any more planted devices escort them up to meet her. "Gentlemen," the captain said as they entered, believing that the salutation was appropriate to them, consider that they both appeared to be one of the two male-analogue genders of the Andorian's four-gendered species. "What can I do for you?"

"My tactical officer has some information that we believe is of a critical nature to your ship, Captain," the Commander said, launching without much preamble. "I felt it best to present this information to you in person rather than over an unsecure subspace channel. Lieutenant?" he finished, giving the floor over to his junior officer.

He would never admit to any feelings like anxiety, but standing between the two senior officers of the ships present Tal was well aware of the level of attention he being subjected to. His kin had long ridiculed him for wearing his emotions openly but amongst humans this was a sign of comfort and friendship. Deciding to press on that route Tal composed his thoughts in a moment.

"Captain Curtis, My name is Tal Sek 'Thaan. I must ask forgiveness, the investigation which lead to this information was done without authorization from my Superior or my Commander."

"Go on," Curtis prompted, curious as to what the investigation was for, but not really concerned too much with the Andorian chain of command.

"I have a long history in counter insurgency, and given the nature of what we knew of your mission, the accident, and loss of Commander Cayne I was... prompted to gather more information. Our species exchange gave me the plans for your ship, and upon analysis of what information I have currently I believe the following to be true."

Tal was using a personal display device to illustrate on the schematics as he spoke. Detailed technical breakdowns at the various components their scans had uncovered assembled a fair approximation of the bomb.

"The explosive was located in a panel which controlled the switchover relays and redundant proximity sensors. It is my belief that an agent was able to sneak on board post launch using this device to disable your proximity sensors, or this was an escape planned for after an operation which would implicate Discovery as part of the design. Commander Cayne's death was likely not intentional, but a necessary action by the covert agent to keep their tracks covered, almost assuredly a failsafe trap on the device, as its explosion didn't damage anything vital.."

Christina stayed quiet for a moment, judging her response before answering. "Yes, we had already determined that the explosion was caused by a device like this. I apologise Commander for not being truthful to you earlier, but our current mission has certain requirements upon our spread of information." What the hell, she decided. They were clearly smart enough to figure most of this out for themselves anyway. "Since you brought this to me directly, I take it I can trust you to keep anything else I share with you off of subspace channels. Starfleet Intelligence believes that a former agent of Terra Prime - the terrorist organisation which tried to disrupt the Coalition talks a couple of months ago - is planning to set a bomb at the Tellarite Compound on Deneva Colony. We were sent to try and get there before he does and stop him. Admiral Gardner is afraid that any indication of our knowing of the terrorist plan in advance could either send our suspect into hiding, or force him to detonate his bomb before we get there. After the events in the Armoury, we think we may have a sympathiser onboard, if not a direct agent of Terra Prime."

Tal said nothing at first, deferring to the Commander privilege of being the one to react officially. What the Commander said after that time was nothing Tal had ever expected to hear.

"I have seen what you pink-skins can do when fear and hatred are your primary motivators, You must deal with this in extreme prejudice. I offer you my Second Tactical Officer, Tal Sek. His investigation brought us here and I see you are in need of an armoury officer. Consider Tal Sek at Starfleet's disposal, he is a well trained and thoroughly efficient counter-insurgency specialist. I will add him to the exchange list if this is acceptable Captain?"

In true style of Andorian Commanders, he paid Tal Sek no mind as he decided the course of this mans life. Tal was an officer and would follow orders, though secretly Tal was thrilled for the opportunity to be with more humans. Remaining at attention, Tal nonetheless let his eyes drift to Captain Curtis to await her reply.

Curtis was clearly surprised by the offer, and took a moment to respond to it. She could definitely see the sense in the suggestion - the Andorians were well known tacticians, and this Tal Sek had already proven to be a very good investigator. No doubt he would make a good fill-in for Cayne at least - even if only for a short time. She turned towards the Andorian officer, wanting his own opinion before officially accepting the offer. "Lieutenant? Is this exchange something you would want to participate in?" While she was aware that the Imperial Guard was more militaristic than Starfleet, she didn't want the man to be on loan to Discovery if he really didn't want to be there.

He was certainly surprised at the question, he would later on think on this moment as his first steps to the greatest adventure of his lifetime. He had been made into a weapon by the Imperial Guard, and had to learn to be an individual again. The human on board Docona had been free and proud but it did not seem to have weakened them. By comparison Tal was a joker and almost insubordinate by his peoples standards but among humans they had called him... stiff collared.

"Captain, you honor me with your permission to accept the request." Truly by his understanding he was still under orders to do as his Commander bid, and the Captain merely offered a token of respect. Andorian soldiers did as they were told, and were damned grateful for the opportunity. Ice shaving and mineral extraction always needed fresh workers, a good soldier knew how to stay out of that.

The Commander was pleased with the answer and with antennae flared in his happy pose he clapped Tal on the shoulder. "He is yours then." a minor shove towards Curtis forced Tal to take a step, the symbolism was wholly lost on him at that point.

"Tal Sek, You are hereby assigned under the interspecies exchange to the command of Captain Curtis of Starfleet for the remainder of her need for your services. Captain Curtis will decide the rank you are to work under in her organization but you will retain your Imperial credentials and are subject to recall. I will have my Second forward appropriate paperwork and medical requisitions Captain."

"Thank you, Commander," Curtis said, shortly before the elder Andorian let himself out of the ready room and headed back to his ship. She turned her attention back to her newest crewmember. "Since you're not a member of Starfleet, you won't need to wear one of our uniforms, so your Imperial Guard uniform will be fine. The Commander called you a Lieutenant, is that right? You won't have a commission with Starfleet, but on this ship at least you'll have all the same authority as a Starfleet Lieutenant would."

Tal would need to brush up on the Starfleet side of things, but the approximate placement on the command chart fit what he knew of their ranks with his own. He nodded, "I will start right away, please notify the necessary departments of my acceptance for security purposes. I have my gear with me now if you can show me the way to the site of the expl-?" He saw a thought shoot across the Captains face and he stopped talking to allow her to interject. A Good officer never forced their superior to toalk over them.

"Our people are still going to be quite shocked by Commander Cayne's death, but we don't have much time to waste. I've asked Lieutenant Wakefield to oversee the security operation and checking the rest of the ship to make sure we are clear of any other devices. I'd like you to work with him. For the time being, at least until longer-term arrangements can be made, you'll be in charge of our tactical department. Ensign Wilson is the next senior tactical officer; I suggest you work closely with him to get the others amongst the crew used to working under you."

The level of trust was great with her, he would ensure it was not misplaced with him now. "I understand, I will shore up the department as its new supervisor first, a wise direction. And thank you for the chance to serve." Tal kicked himself after that last unecessary statement. It wasn't flattery, but rather his eager anxiety to impress. The two parted with Tal pondering a dozen different things about what to do next. It then occurred to him he wasn't exactly sure where his office was... F Deck was below him and forward, but wasn't he... wasnt this...

-END-