Fleet News Incoming
Posted on Sat May 18th, 2019 @ 2:41pm by Lieutenant JG Halcolm Qolo
Location: USS Kitsune - Intel Section
Timeline: MD02 - 1000 hrs
A Bolian wearing the gray shoulders of the intelligence branch walked briskly through the corridors of the Kitsune. His speed signified something important was happening. The nature of the Intel community meant anything could be happening. Lieutenant JG Halcolm Qolo had spent much of his early days on the Kitsune overseeing the installation of the ship’s classified programs.
Starfleet Intelligence wasn’t going to allow a ship to be modified without keeping a close eye on things. There was also a system or two the Intelligence Department utilized. None of this required any major hardware. It was more about one thing. Monitoring.
The speed walk led Lt. JG Qolo into the team’s briefing room. Things were a bit short staffed in the neighborhood of the team that called themselves “Ghosts.” Two officers were doing much of the work, along with a handful of enlisted staff.
A Bajoran woman leaned back comfortably at the oval desk until the long-faced Bolian entered the room. “Status reports on the system installations”, Halcolm Qolo queried.
Ensign Ala Caiyu had her long, dark hair wrapped up in an ornate Bajoran style. Pins held her long locks firmly in place. While many Bajoran ladies enjoyed a shorter cut, the Ensign’s length had purpose. The hair could help her blend in. Maybe she could use it as a tool to sway and manipulate for Intelligence gathering purposes. The life and work of an intel officer is complex.
Sometimes Ala liked to wear it rebelliously. She’s felt this way ever since the Academy showed her different religions. There was a growing segment of young Bajorans who started to wonder if the prophets weren’t just extraterrestrial beings. This was shunned to the point where it couldn’t be talked about. Whenever Ala wears her hair down to her back, it flies in the face of the conventions so many of her religious leaders fought so hard to convey.
Qolo was oblivious to the religious significance of her hair. Sure it looked different from a normal Bajoran. It didn’t help that the bright blue Bolian has never had any hair. The idea of it was literally an alien concept.
“System total is at 92%”, Ensign Caiyu said in a relaxed, professional voice. “The engines aren’t at max. The weapons need refining, but they’ll operate. The sensors still need a lot of testing.”
“What about OUR sensor?” Ensign Qolo’s words took an almost ominous tone. USS Kitsune information mentioned upgraded sensors. There was no way in hell Starfleet Intelligence would miss the chance to install their own equipment. Some of it, Captain Clearwater might not like.
The Intel Department had a sensor capable of monitoring transmissions. Qolo and his officers wouldn’t sit around reading messages or watching private holovideo transmissions. Starfleet wanted to know what was happening here. Of course the systems were meant to monitor other ships. If there was thoughts of a CO going rouge, the Kitsune could investigate that officer’s transmissions under the guise of an escort vessel.
“It’s up. Why?” Ensign Caiyu asked because she thought they weren’t supposed to talk about it.
“I need you to boot it up. There’s a problem in the Quadrant. A group. There’s going to be a briefing at Starbase 72”, said LT JG Qolo.
“Are you going sir?”
“I can’t “, replied the Bolian. “But I’m going to monitor from here. Hopefully we can find something useful through scans.”
“Hopefully... Whatever Starfleet is worried about is nowhere near us”, Ensign Ala Caiyu replied sheepishly. Delicately curved eyelids often hung low over the brunette’s deep brown eyes.
Halcolm Qolo’s eyes were a crimson amber that didn’t seem too far from a shade of brown itself. “Become familiar with the name, Freedom’s Legion”, said the lieutenant. “They’ve hacked into the Federation News Service. More recently, three followers set themselves on fire at a party celebrating the Long Jump.”
Ala inquired, “Do you mean ‘Project: Long Jump Gala’?” Qolo nodded in response before the woman continued. “I had people there.”
“Find out what they saw”, the lieutenant replied. “ Because this could spiral off into a task force mission.”
“Aye-aye sir.” Standing up, the Ensign moved to log into a LCARS interface in the small room next door. She was just as frenetic with her movement as the Bolian had been. Seeing Intelligence officers so stirred is a bad sign. They knew what even those few sentences represented.
Media manipulation. Public martyrdom. Lieutenant Qolo hadn’t even told his officer about the calls for secession from Starfleet. That was something the Federation didn’t even want going around. Freedom’s Legion was gaining influence after their recent public display.
Halcolm moved to his private office, where he logged into a secure terminal. He had to run the new sensor’s algorithms in the hopes of scanning an illicit transmission. There was probably nobody affiliated on the ship. The lieutenant still had to check. It would be a long day in front of the terminal for both officers.