***** 0800 Hours some where on the Fedeation Border *****
Captain's Log, USS South Hamption, Captain Skeller recording.
"We have been investigating this planet for several hours now.
Alexi 5, planet ID 98271, appears to be an almost perfect match for what we
are looking for. Long range probes indicated as much, and our first hand
review is not contradicting that. At least not yet. I have sent several
landing parties down to the surface for a more detailed analysis. If all
goes well we can wrap this wild goose chase and head home triumphant... the
only ship to make out on this errand of ours." the Captain reported
sounding some what pleased with the work of his crew on this mysterious
mission. However his tone quickly changed...
"What bothers me is... well the Ramesar. None of the maps of this area
are clear on the status of this planet. We are about 4 hours out of
Federation space at warp 6, but the Ramesar border is... well undefined.
>From the information that I have been given this planet should be in free
space, but something tells me that the Ramesar feel other wise."
"Captain to the bridge. Shields up. Red Alert!" ordered the XO as
the klaxon blarred in the background, all of that making it's way into the
recording the Captain was making from his ready room.
"Number 1, report!" calls the Captain not turning off his log.
"Sir, it's the Ramesar. Well, I think so. Sh!t!!! they are firing..."
********
Three days later. Starfleet Headquarters Complex, San Francisco.
(Spacedock time... the following day.)
Present: UFP Chief of Staff, Federation Security Advisor, CinC Starfleet,
Chief of Staff/Starfleet, Director Federation Central Intelligence, Director
Federation Bureau of Investigation.
"Admiral Lasiter what the hell were they doing out there?" demanded the CIA
Chief.
"Exploration. We still do that kind of thing." Lasiter replied calmly.
"Enough. We have been bickering about the South Hampton for an hour with no
result. Admiral Lasiter what do you plan to do?", broke in President
Montgomery's Security Advisor.
"Well, sir I plan on turning this over to Vice Admiral Kitanya at Special
Operations. She is best equipped to handle such an event. She will be
ordered to resuce by any means necessary after making reasonable attempts at
diplomatic means." Lasiter said emphasizing the military solution.
"Like hell you are." an irate CIA Director said. "You screwed the pooch on
this one already. You and yours can not be trusted to handle this one on
your own."
"Donald, take it easy. CIA couldn't handle this if they had a year to
prepare. Fact is neither could the FBI." the FBI Director answered. "This
is a nasty situation where brute force of Starfleet is not going to win, and
neither is our more back door approaches. We have to try something new."
There was silence. The CIA Director had lots of political backing and liked
to use it. However, he was a blow hard. The top two in the room know what
had to be done.
It was the Chief of Staff that put it into words. "Admiral Lasiter I want
you to put together a joint team to handle this. Use Galactic Exploration
to run the diplomatic angle and Special Forces to provide the backbone of a
strike if necessary."
The Security Advisor (ooc: think Condee Rice) added, "Mike send over a good
op or two to help out. FBI, same goes for you."
Lasiter answered along with the rest. "Yes, sir." No one wanted to
disobey these two...
Lasiter, M'Renn, and the FBI director all walked out together.
"Good show, Admiral." the FBI director said once out of listening
range.
"Thank you. Could not have done it without you." Lasiter replied.
M'Rrenn looked at the old man with a quizical look on their faces.
Lasiter turned to explain, "The FBI Director and I have tossed around the
idea of joint operations unit for a while now. We have wanted to, but
thought it would never work. When we both got work about the South Hamption
we made up a quick plan to out maneuver the CIA Director. We had to use
this situation to bring about something great. Trick is to make it
work....."
"That we shall. See you later, Admiral..."
"Bye, Jon."
***** FBI Field Office, 20 minutes after the big meeting. *****
Nash gets a very interrupting call.
"Mike, look I don't care what you are doing. I just got the word
that you from *THE* man himself. Get up to Spacedock for a meeting. You
are to bring Maggie too. Looks like the stuff hit the fan this time. Just
tell them who you are when you get there. You and Maggie have an hour.
Just don't be late. Just remember, your are going to room CC125."
{response}
***** Various locations, about 20 minutes after the big meeting. *****
Michael Nash, Maggie Coyne, Nabru, Ensign Ra'aj y Caimlyn, and Katya Ostrov
all recieved messages from their respective chains of command to report to
Spacedock, Room CC125 at 1020 hours. Roughly one (1) standard hour away.
Odd that the mission orders were missing. Odd that they had to go to
Spacedock. What made it worse was that after a small amount of research
revealed that room CC125 was in the Commander in Chief's suite of offices.
{thoughts reactions}
***** Elsewhere at the same time *****
"Admiral Bedru, this is Lasiter. I need to talk to you. I just had a
meeting with some brass planet side about the South Hampton. Can you coem
to my office to discuss the situation?" came an onimous call on her direct
line.
{response}
