Chapter 2 - Deception And Intent
Hank Evans stood at the controls to the display panel in his Security Office as a set of strange, twisted glyphs appeared on the unit.
"Okay, what is it?" Melissa Vargas asked.
Hank grinned. "This, my dear, is the key to our search."
Melissa arched her upswept eyebrows. "This?" She pointed at the display.
Hank turned and leaned against the wall. "After our unsuccessful search through the communication logs to find our spy, I decided to do a check on every type of signal this ship has sent out ever since we left the shipyard."
Vargas rolled her eyes. "Hank, I really don't have time for anymore of this."
Evans lowered his voice. "I know what Jack had you do... I know you got hurt."
She looked down. "You don't know the half of it."
"Okay, I'll admit we went about this the wrong way, but I didn't know it until I found this."
He pointed at the display. "While we were barrel-assing toward Parxula to confront the Borg a signal was transmitted. It was very short and was sent through our navigational deflector."
Melissa looked up at the display. "How short?"
Hank touched the display with his index finger. "Short enough to transmit an image--- an image of this."
She looked at the odd contorted shapes. "An image? Not a message?"
Hank shook his head. "Fairly clever. Convert the message to an image of an unknown language and then send the image. I never would have found it if I hadn't thought to go over the logs on the deflector system."
Melissa smiled. "Loftus is right. You are paranoid."
Hank grinned. "I like to think of it as meticulous, but enough about my mental problems."
Melissa took a step toward the display. "It's probably a single word. Any idea what language it is?"
Hank shook his head. "No, but I think I can guess what the word means."
She turned to him as he continued. "Don't you think it's a little odd we got to Parxula Five and while we're fighting the Borg, out of the blue some strange ship just happens to show up, pastes three of the cubes and then grabs hold of the last one, supposedly to capture a Borg Queen?"
Melissa's eyes grew wide. "The spy is working for the G'voda!"
Hank slowly nodded. "Which means we're not dealing with the average run of the mill operator. Whoever this is has access to technology we can only dream of--- very dangerous technology."
Melissa stared at the image again. Her irritation with this entire spy matter was replaced by a growing fear. She remembered watching the G'voda vessel tear into the Borg cube. The Federation barely had been able to hold back the Borg. To think that someone working for a species that had treated the Borg as little more than insects now walked aboard the Chamberlain meant her personal pain was the least of their problems now.
And the reports of a G'voda vessel cruising about Federation space meant they would have to find this spy quickly.
***
Jack McCall walked up the stairs into his Ready Room and looked about the large space. He was surprised to see everything was as he had left it. However, Simmons still had a whole month to rearrange things.
Jack turned and saw the admiral seated behind his desk. The Chamberlain's CO shrugged his shoulders.
"You asked to see me, Admiral?"
"Yes, Captain. Please sit down," Simmons said.
Jack took the seat across from the desk and waited while Simmons finished reading from a PADD. After a moment the Admiral set it down on the smooth desktop.
"I understand your Communications Officer has organized a Symphony Orchestra."
Jack smiled. "Yes, sir. Cynthia Pederson informs me they'll be ready for a concert in about a week."
Simmons nodded. "I look forward to it. I guess that's an advantage of having a crew of three thousand. It allows you to organize things like that."
"It was her initiative, Admiral," Jack said.
"Be sure to make a note of it in her personnel file." Simmons leaned back. "If I had kept up with my French Horn practice, I'd ask to sit in with them."
Jack grinned. "I could speak to Pederson about it, sir."
Simmons raised a hand to wave Jack off. "No, Captain. I'd only embarrass myself. I'll just enjoy listening."
Simmons appeared lost in thought for a moment and Jack let him remain so.
The admiral looked at him and smiled.
"I've just received two bits of news you might find interesting."
"What would that be, sir?" Jack asked.
"First, the Oceana has finally been able to sustain warp nine point seven. So I suppose they'll finally give Captain Donato a full crew and send him out."
Jack did his best not to smile in front of the admiral, but he was glad his wasn't the only ship of the class that was fully operational any longer.
Simmons developed a slight grin and leaned back in the chair. "And I've learned that yesterday the Federation Council has voted against construction of any more Oceana Class starships. The four that exist now will be all there will ever be."
Jack looked down. He could tell the admiral was so satisfied with this he probably wanted to dance about the room.
Simmons took a deep breath. "Now that sanity has prevailed with the Council it is my hope they'll eventually mothball the four that have been built."
The admiral picked up another PADD and glanced at it. "Have you thought about where you'd like to be assigned after the Chamberlain?"
"I can't say I've given it a whole lot of thought, Admiral."
"I would suggest you do."
Jack took a deep breath. "Sir, wouldn't it be wasteful to have built these ships and then pack them away? I thought the point was to use the resources we had."
Simmons looked Jack in the eye. "Do you know what resources were diverted to the construction of these ships, McCall?"
"I would imagine it was considerable, sir."
"With what it took to build two of these things we could have constructed an entire Starbase. A Starbase means growth for the Federation and an expansion of our exploratory range."
"I thought the Oceana Class was supposed to do that as its designation of Deep Long Range Explorer implies," Jack replied.
Simmons held the PADD in both hands on the top of the desk and leaned forward. "These ships are one thing, Captain; battleships. Very powerful, very large, weapons of war." He paused a moment and looked down. "Frankly, they terrify me."
"I grant you they are the largest ships in the Fleet, but they're smaller than a spacedock which takes considerable more resources to construct and personnel to operate, sir."
Simmons set his jaw and looked up at Jack. "The Chamberlain and its sister ships are invitations to disaster. They tell the Galaxy that the Federation is something to be feared. I don't intend to be part of a galactic terror." He took a deep breath. "And given the opportunity to be in a position to make those decisions, I will work to insure that no one in the Federation ever will be."
"Admiral," Jack started. He paused to wonder if he might be endangering his career, but frankly at this point he didn't much care. He had heard this kind of talk out of admirals before and he didn't like it. "Perhaps if the admiralty spent less time concerned about their political and career ambitions they might see the usefulness of the Oceana Class."
Jack expected the admiral to go off on him, but he was surprised when a sad look came to Simmons face.
"Is that really what you think, Captain?" The older man sighed heavily and set the PADD down on the desk. "I don't care about my career, the next twenty years, or one hundred years. I'm concerned about the next five hundred to a thousand years."
Jack watched as Simmons spoke. There was something different about the admiral that he hadn't noticed before. The man seemed tired, but at the same time there was something about his eyes that gave Jack the impression he was actually excited.
"The Federation is near its limits. It does not have the political structure to expand much further than it already has. The Federation allows member worlds to remain in their cultural and political cocoons, ignoring the rest of the Galaxy, but its become too large for that. Others, like the Borg and Dominion have, are starting to take notice."
Jack grinned. "You're beginning to sound like Admiral Hancock."
A frown formed on Simmons' face. "Your mentor is a short-sighted fool, Jack. He and the even more ignorant, Turgidson, want instant solutions based on their desire to see their views made reality--- solutions like the Oceana Class."
The admiral's expression softened. "Hancock wants to take part in greatness. I am content to contribute to a greatness I will never see.
"Too many see the Federation as a completed work or as an end unto itself--- perfection achieved--- a utopia. The reality is we are only at the beginning and there is much work to be done."
A somber look took over his face. "And none of that will happen if the Federation is perceived as a threat to be put down. That is what I fear the Oceana Class ships will do, Captain. Every time this ship leaves port I'm worried it will begin the end of what more than two hundred years of diligence and dedication have built."
The admiral picked the PADD up again and started to read it. Jack watched the man he had learned to distrust over a number of years and was surprised that for the first time he was starting to wonder if he had misjudged Fergus Simmons.
He handed Jack the PADD. "These are your new orders."
Jack quickly scanned them as Simmons continued. "After we arrive in the Kel-j'na Region and my staff and I depart, you will proceed on to the planet Cajma Six where you will assist your Task Group Commander, Julien Gann, Captain of the U.S.S. Venture, with a diplomatic mission."
Jack's eyes went wide. "A diplomatic mission, sir?"
"The Cajmians are ready to join the Federation, but they've suffered attacks in the past from this Levalum Clan and some group they call the Naitr'm. Captain Gann feels they need reassurances that Starfleet would be able to protect them from further attacks."
Jack lifted an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like the way the Oceana Class projected Federation power, Admiral."
Simmons eyes began to narrow, but after a moment he relaxed and smiled. "As you said, this is a resource and in this case, the Chamberlain will reassure, not intimidate."
A slight grin came to Jack's face. "So you're not a purist on this projection of power idea."
"I'm an Admiral. I can't afford to be a purist at much of anything." He looked at Jack a few moments. "What's the matter? You don't like diplomatic missions?"
"No, I enjoy them from time to time." Jack took a deep breath. "With all due respect, Admiral, I really don't believe I need a chaperone."
"Jack, do me a favor. Try to see this as an opportunity instead of a punishment. Captain Gann is a good man and an excellent Starfleet Officer. You could learn a lot from him."
Jack looked down at the PADD. He didn't like this situation at all.
Simmons placed his hands on the desk. "Until further notice, Captain McCall, you and the Chamberlain will be placed under the Task Group Command of Captain Gann. Dismissed."
Jack stood up and nodded, but as he turned to go he heard the Admiral clear his throat.
"Oh, one other thing, Captain."
Jack turned around to once again face his superior. "Yes, sir?"
"Doctor Preston has informed me that he feels you would benefit from counseling with Lieutenant Commander Wilmarza."
Jack McCall started to say something, but Simmons raised his hand to end the protest before it started.
"Consider this a direct order. You will, within a week, report to Lieutenant Commander Wilmarza to begin a series of counseling sessions which will not end until she deems it appropriate. Is that order clear, Captain?"
Jack nodded. It appeared Doctor Preston had finally won this argument.
