S1 - Mission 6 - Killer Cove

[Hust Kinun]

[Bar]

Hust stood by as Tritter secured the scene, but he did notice the man try and leave the bar behind Tritter's back. He moved quickly and tried to get between the man and the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, making it clear that was a rhetorical question. "You're staying here until the chief says it's ok to leave." he said, motioning for the man to return to his seat. "You're one half of this fight, and as they say it takes two to tango. So either you return there, or we have security make you stay."

He had seen this man's handiwork. He knew he couldn't force the man to stay, but he didn't let that fact bother him. If the man chose to leave... there would be more fun today.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Bar]

The captain had asked the computer to locate Chief Tritter. He was surprised to discover that the security officer was in one of the most dive taverns on the entire station. It had taken a few minutes to settle in that Tritter might not be cooling his heels in the place, but establishing order.

When he arrived he saw that his suspicion was true. The aftermath of a fight was being wrapped up. Stafford saw at least one injured Klingon and that medical had been called.

A brawl. Ordinarily it would be something he would investigate even if it was relatively insignificant. Nothing on the station escaped his notice, or so he liked to think. But the civilians and visitors could only be policed to a point by Starfleet. He'd have to circle back to this when times were decidedly calmer.

The captain made his way over to the chief, cane picking its delicate way on a floor that was strewn with broken glass, liquids, old food. The place was a dump.

"Chief," Stafford said when he got close enough. "I see you've got things under control here. I need to see you, in private. Let's take that booth over there."

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Bar]

The captain had asked the computer to locate Chief Tritter. He was surprised to discover that the security officer was in one of the most dive taverns on the entire station. It had taken a few minutes to settle in that Tritter might not be cooling his heels in the place, but establishing order.

When he arrived he saw that his suspicion was true. The aftermath of a fight was being wrapped up. Stafford saw at least one injured Klingon and that medical had been called.

A brawl. Ordinarily it would be something he would investigate even if it was relatively insignificant. Nothing on the station escaped his notice, or so he liked to think. But the civilians and visitors could only be policed to a point by Starfleet. He'd have to circle back to this when times were decidedly calmer.

The captain made his way over to the chief, cane picking its delicate way on a floor that was strewn with broken glass, liquids, old food. The place was a dump.

"Chief," Stafford said when he got close enough. "I see you've got things under control here. I need to see you, in private. Let's take that booth over there."

Tritter had gotten everything situated and helped the female to her feet, not long after, he noticed Captain Stafford approaching, he could easily hear the Captain. Oh thank god he thought, he could get away from that woman. Once Stafford approached him and spoke, the Chief gave the man a slight nod at the end of his statement, than replying with a simple "Aye Sir" He would proceed to follow the Captain over to the requested booth.  One of the nice effects of his presence is that things are quiet now and his head feels less like it wants to split in two. He also hoped that the Captain would not notice the fact that he stank of perfume.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

Tritter had gotten everything situated and helped the female to her feet, not long after, he noticed Captain Stafford approaching, he could easily hear the Captain. Oh thank god he thought, he could get away from that woman. Once Stafford approached him and spoke, the Chief gave the man a slight nod at the end of his statement, than replying with a simple "Aye Sir" He would proceed to follow the Captain over to the requested booth.  One of the nice effects of his presence is that things are quiet now and his head feels less like it wants to split in two. He also hoped that the Captain would not notice the fact that he stank of perfume.

[Bar]

When Stafford sat and laid his cane across his lap one of the springs in the roughed up upholstery of the booth seat jabbed him directly in the rear end. Ugh.

"Remind me go to medical and a tetanus shot, Chief," The captain said vaguely to Tritter. "This booth just stabbed me."

He settled a bit more comfortable until the metal wasn't digging into him and also noted that he may have to change uniform pants after this. Grand.

The captain sniffed delicately and detected the scent of a cheap perfume splashed all over his chief of security. He studied the man intently. Tritter was seven feet tall and nearly weighed four hundred pounds. He'd once watched the man wrestle four Klingons into submission, and he'd just broken another's shoulder. All in the name of law and order. Tritter was also a family man, with a husband and children. He was the epitome of masculinity, as far as Stafford was concerned. And right now he smelled like a flowery lady strolling around the docks. He resolved to put it out of his mind.

"Chief, I've gotten a rather delicate assignment from someone very high up in Starfleet. An admiral, Kirok. I believe you've met him." Stafford continued without waiting for Tritter to confirm. "We're disguising the Gibson as a smuggling vessel and going undercover ourselves to a very dangerous spot. I need you and your people walking point on this. It's an extraction of friendly assets in hostile territory."

[Thomas Jett]

 

Tom attempted to leave the scene.  He was surprised that there was a beautiful woman in the floor acting like she fainted and yet he still received his fair share of attention.  He attempted to leave the Bar scene and wanted a chance to decrypt the intelligence that he just received.
He touched his chest as he felt the isolenar chip in his leather jacket.  As he walked casually an individual stopped him.  He had never met the person.  He placed himself near the exit. 

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, making it clear that was a rhetorical question. "You're staying here until the chief says it's ok to leave." he said, motioning for the man to return to his seat. "You're one half of this fight, and as they say it takes two to tango. So either you return there, or we have security make you stay."
 

Great (sarcastic), a man can't start a bar fight without half of Starfleet looking over his shoulder

The agent lay on the floor.  She was not happy that her charms did not work on the man of security.  She wondered to herself How rude...he didn't even bother with a proper introduction What a jerk!  He is not playing my games She thought.

[Hust Kinun]

Great (sarcastic), a man can't start a bar fight without half of Starfleet looking over his shoulder

[Bar]

Hust frowned as the man gave in and wandered off, deciding it was best to pay the man's tab later. Right now he stood aside as a man pushed through the crowd, and when he did so Hust felt like he'd rather the man have left so Hust could follow him. He wasn't exactly on the Captain's "Nice" list.

He stayed by the door, declining the drink. He was technically on Starfleet time... and drinking on said time wouldn't be the best idea right now, with both the CO and the Chief of Security right there within striking range.

Why the Captain was there was beyond him, but he was sure the officer had his reasons. For now he simply looked around the bar, as the last of the Latinumn was delivered and people started to saunter off, avoiding eyesight of the CO if possible.

[Rosiuh Aviad]

[Sick Bay]

Zex watched while her colleague appeared to be reading others thoughts or emotions.  She has never seen anything like it and was about to say as much.  But then the hale had some in asking for assistance.

"I'll take the fort" Zex said decisively.  "But if you do find that you need an extra pair of hands, I can get there quickly.  Promise" the Deltan replied.

[Sick bay]

"I'll let you know, but things seem to have calmed down. With the Chief on site I'm not surprised." Rosiuh nodded as Zex replied she'd stay and keep an eye on things there.

Hust stood by as Tritter secured the scene, but he did notice the man try and leave the bar behind Tritter's back. He moved quickly and tried to get between the man and the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, making it clear that was a rhetorical question. "You're staying here until the chief says it's ok to leave." he said, motioning for the man to return to his seat. "You're one half of this fight, and as they say it takes two to tango. So either you return there, or we have security make you stay."

He had seen this man's handiwork. He knew he couldn't force the man to stay, but he didn't let that fact bother him. If the man chose to leave... there would be more fun today.

[Bar]

Rosiuh paused at the entrance to the bar scanning the room for the large form of the Chief and his possble patients. He hesitated, dark gaze drawn towards a two men talking at the bar. (Hurst and Jett) His gaze lingered on the Betazoid with a faint frown and a confused look before passing them over with a mental note. That was one mystery solved even as it created a different one. Still, it would have to wait till he wasn't on call to deal with it.

A flash of bright red drew his gaze to a woman picking herself up off the floor. Rosiuh picked up flashes of annoyance, chagrin and deception from her. Her words made him pause, but it didn't take much for him to know she was playing to an audience and not someone in direct need of his attention. A hint of annoyance flitted across his own face as he dismissed her from hand. The medical Cadet's Betazoid upbringing didn't draw any sympathy from him to her 'plight'. There were others who needed his attention more.

When Stafford sat and laid his cane across his lap one of the springs in the roughed up upholstery of the booth seat jabbed him directly in the rear end. Ugh.

"Remind me go to medical and a tetanus shot, Chief," The captain said vaguely to Tritter. "This booth just stabbed me."

He settled a bit more comfortable until the metal wasn't digging into him and also noted that he may have to change uniform pants after this. Grand.

The captain sniffed delicately and detected the scent of a cheap perfume splashed all over his chief of security. He studied the man intently. Tritter was seven feet tall and nearly weighed four hundred pounds. He'd once watched the man wrestle four Klingons into submission, and he'd just broken another's shoulder. All in the name of law and order. Tritter was also a family man, with a husband and children. He was the epitome of masculinity, as far as Stafford was concerned. And right now he smelled like a flowery lady strolling around the docks. He resolved to put it out of his mind.

"Chief, I've gotten a rather delicate assignment from someone very high up in Starfleet. An admiral, Kirok. I believe you've met him." Stafford continued without waiting for Tritter to confirm. "We're disguising the Gibson as a smuggling vessel and going undercover ourselves to a very dangerous spot. I need you and your people walking point on this. It's an extraction of friendly assets in hostile territory."

His gaze traveled on as he spotted the Chief talking with the Captian and he blinked in mild surprise. He would not have thought a bar fight would be serious enough to bring the commander down to investigate. Everything that he was picking up from them indicated a desire to speak in private. The Chief was calmer, a sense of mild embarrassment lingered and the Cadet hoped that the large man wasn't getting raked over by the commanding officer. The sense of pain he got from Mr. Tritter was milder though and Rosiuh marked him down in his mental list of triage as 'can wait.' He wasn't going to interrupt the pair of them without good cause.

Satisfied that he could start with the Klingon, Rosiuh made his way over with a brisk nod to introduce himself and conduct his initial exam. He had the feeling that it would be a case of stablizing the broken bones and a dose of pain meds before transporting the disgruntled alien to the medical bay for proper treatment. Settling the kit bag out of his way the cadet set to work.

[Michael J. Tritter]

Great (sarcastic), a man can't start a bar fight without half of Starfleet looking over his shoulder

The agent lay on the floor.  She was not happy that her charms did not work on the man of security.  She wondered to herself How rude...he didn't even bother with a proper introduction What a jerk!  He is not playing my games She thought.

[Bar]

When Stafford sat and laid his cane across his lap one of the springs in the roughed up upholstery of the booth seat jabbed him directly in the rear end. Ugh.

"Remind me go to medical and a tetanus shot, Chief," The captain said vaguely to Tritter. "This booth just stabbed me."

He settled a bit more comfortable until the metal wasn't digging into him and also noted that he may have to change uniform pants after this. Grand.

The captain sniffed delicately and detected the scent of a cheap perfume splashed all over his chief of security. He studied the man intently. Tritter was seven feet tall and nearly weighed four hundred pounds. He'd once watched the man wrestle four Klingons into submission, and he'd just broken another's shoulder. All in the name of law and order. Tritter was also a family man, with a husband and children. He was the epitome of masculinity, as far as Stafford was concerned. And right now he smelled like a flowery lady strolling around the docks. He resolved to put it out of his mind.

"Chief, I've gotten a rather delicate assignment from someone very high up in Starfleet. An admiral, Kirok. I believe you've met him." Stafford continued without waiting for Tritter to confirm. "We're disguising the Gibson as a smuggling vessel and going undercover ourselves to a very dangerous spot. I need you and your people walking point on this. It's an extraction of friendly assets in hostile territory."

Tritter heard her production as he had started to follow Captain Stafford, he rolled his eyes and followed the man to the booth. He looked at the seat carefully before sitting down, he noticed an errant piece of metal that may not feel good, the Chief easily bent it down with his right hand before taking a seat. He noticed the Captain ended up on the wrong end of one of the pieces of metal, he nodded slightly to their comment about the Tetanus shot.

The Chief could sense that Stafford could smell what that woman got on him, heck, it was even making his own heard hurt, he needed a shower and a uniform change. He kept his focus intently on Captain Stafford as the man spoke to him, he picked up every word. Tritter nodded slightly once he was finished, "I understand completly Captain, I can get a team assembled and ready within the hour, I have the perfect team in mind. But I would need to know how many hostiles would we be dealing with?"

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

Tritter heard her production as he had started to follow Captain Stafford, he rolled his eyes and followed the man to the booth. He looked at the seat carefully before sitting down, he noticed an errant piece of metal that may not feel good, the Chief easily bent it down with his right hand before taking a seat. He noticed the Captain ended up on the wrong end of one of the pieces of metal, he nodded slightly to their comment about the Tetanus shot.

The Chief could sense that Stafford could smell what that woman got on him, heck, it was even making his own heard hurt, he needed a shower and a uniform change. He kept his focus intently on Captain Stafford as the man spoke to him, he picked up every word. Tritter nodded slightly once he was finished, "I understand completly Captain, I can get a team assembled and ready within the hour, I have the perfect team in mind. But I would need to know how many hostiles would we be dealing with?"

[Bar]

"The whole damned planet, Chief. We're going to Killer Cove." The captain replied. He signed.

"It's a moon, really, and a very urbanized one. It started out at as a Ferengi colony, and they still have a heavy presence there. But before long their freelance cargo employees took over for themselves and shut their old bosses out." Stafford told the other man. "That was twenty, twenty five years ago. Now it's a smuggling den and a pirate hideout. So, perhaps 'hostiles' isn't the right word. I need good officers, smart ones, too, not just trigger pullers. You'll be retrieving civilians from the moon's surface. God only knows what manner of trouble we'll run into while we're there."

The captain stood. He wasn't trying to be the voice of doom, but he wanted Chief Tritter to have as much information as possible. Unfortunately, he did not have much more to give.

"I've got to notify the Flight department. Assemble on the Gibson. I'll notify you when we are ready to go. Dismissed, Chief."

[Shani]

[Bay #2]

A half hour passed before the young Andorian woman slid out from underneath the merchant's secondhand shuttle, or rather Crewman Mitchells did, the tip of his boot pulling the creeper out for her.

"How's it going down there?" he asked. Shani tolerated his presence. He was a little affable and maybe a tad inexperienced with shuttlecraft, but he was young. She could sense the way he tottered from one foot to the other with mild impatience akin to youth.

"Tell Gwarg the inertial dampener is suspended. That was why the flight controls automatically locked during takeoff."

Mitchells seemed alarmed. "It does that?"

"Better safe than sorry," she answered before she smoothly sat up. "Most Astarth-class shuttles come with precautions. The last model's faulty navigational mechanism was fatal to amateur flyers, all of which were recalled quickly and with a blow to the manufacturer. The Ferengi quickly learned their lesson against cutting corners if they wished to continue profiting on ship building. If the inertial dampers do not work, than neither does the piloting system."

After a thought, she opened her palm to him. He eagerly obliged in helping her to her feet. "Can you teach me more, ma'am? I mean when you're not busy. I'm still studying for my OTC."

"Anyone who seeks knowledge beyond what is already taught is already greater than his peers," she told him kindly. "I will make time for you." 

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Bar]

"The whole damned planet, Chief. We're going to Killer Cove." The captain replied. He signed.

"It's a moon, really, and a very urbanized one. It started out at as a Ferengi colony, and they still have a heavy presence there. But before long their freelance cargo employees took over for themselves and shut their old bosses out." Stafford told the other man. "That was twenty, twenty five years ago. Now it's a smuggling den and a pirate hideout. So, perhaps 'hostiles' isn't the right word. I need good officers, smart ones, too, not just trigger pullers. You'll be retrieving civilians from the moon's surface. God only knows what manner of trouble we'll run into while we're there."

The captain stood. He wasn't trying to be the voice of doom, but he wanted Chief Tritter to have as much information as possible. Unfortunately, he did not have much more to give.

"I've got to notify the Flight department. Assemble on the Gibson. I'll notify you when we are ready to go. Dismissed, Chief."

Tritter pondered the Captain's statement, he'd need his best, who have experience in this type of thing and he'd want to take a small contigent so they could move quickly and largely go un-noticed. He listened carefully, he knew full well what he was in for and this type of assignment didn't scare him, he knew exactly the men he wanted to bring along for this mission. He nodded calmly to the Captain, he replied with a simple "Aye Sir", he than looked to the man once again as he rose to his feet, "Don't forget that Tetanus shot Captain", as he turned on a heel and exited.

He made his way back towards his quarters, he tapped his comm badge, requesting five of his men, the best he had to come along and meet him at Main Security, he knew they had the skills for the job, although it was still new and foreign to him. He had given them orders to report in civilian clothes. He would make his way back to his quarters, he keyed in for the door to open, he would step inside and rub temples, his headache was going away, he hoped it would be gone in full before he had actual work to do.

Tritter would than notice his better half standing abut six feet away, the man looked at him and stated, "You stink, you smell like you took a Puerto Rican shower" Tritter chuckled quietly, at least his better half wasn't as bad about it as he thought he would be, he would than reply with "No, some Starfleet Intelligence Agent was trying her best on me after I ended a fight between a civilian and a few Klingons. I would prefer to stay and talk, but we are going to a nearby planet on an extraction mission, wheres the munchkins?" Ryan nodded slightly, he knew his better half's work was dangerous and that he could handle it, but it still made him un-easy. He would than reply with, "Sleeping, they've been wondering where you went" He left it there, he didn't want to push things further since Tritter had dangerous work to do and he wanted him to be able to focus.

Tritter nodded sligbtly, "Thank you", he would go grab a clean set of clothes and proceed to go take a shower, taking about fifteen minutes to complete the task. He would also re-don his phaser. He looked at Ryan, he knew they were unhappy, but that is an issue that they would have to resolve later. He went into each of the kids rooms for brief small talk and to tell them what was going on. They were not happy, but they understood, this has been their life for many years now. Once Tritter exited their rooms, Ryan looked back at him and said, "Be careful alright?" Tritter nodded, "I will, thank you" as he exited.

He would than make his way back to Main Security, he blended in for the most part when in civilian clothes, although the phaser gave him away. He looked over his assembled team, all younger men, but they had the skills needed and the fire in their eyes. He instructed each to get a duffle bag, put a phaser rifle, hand phaser, a knife and some rations in to it, as he didn't know long they would be gone. Once the task is completed, they moved out the Gibson. Tritter would also let Captain Stafford know when they had arrived as well.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Bay #2]

Avi Denovitz was rubbing his hand together when he saw Stafford arrive. The captain inwardly groaned. The old lieutenant was a career officer, a career pilot. But he was also a wheeler and a dealer, and never passed up an opportunity to squeeze ever more out of his command staff for his department.

"Captain, I am so pleased to see you." Denovitz said with a big, plastered smile on his craggy face. "I was just telling some of my men here that we've got a fine cargo tractor beam here. A classic. Did you know that these were originally issued back on the Ambassador class starships? Man, oh man, I served on one of those as a young man. I miss those old tubs."

"Lieutenant." Stafford said, unable to keep the sigh out of his voice. He felt a requisition coming. "I've seen your record. That was the Tampico, right?"

"That's right, captain, the 'Pico. Fine ship. Top of the line." Denovitz's face never lost its ingratiating smile. "In its time."

"In its time." The captain agreed. He was weary. Too much going on, too many people pulling him in too many directions. "Tell you what, Avi, submit a feasibility report to upgrade the cargo tractor beams. If it checks out you can fill out a requisition for new ones. Now, tell me where Ensign Shani is before you ask for a pool table."

Denovitz laughed happily. He may have been a wily old curmudgeon, but he was a good officer just the same, and one of the few people on board close to Stafford's own age. He was willing to be magnanimous now that he'd gotten what he wanted.

"Shani is working on a merchant shuttle. Far side of the bay. Thank you for your time, captain, it's been a profitable day." With that, the jolly older officer set off whistling.

"Not for me it hasn't." Stafford said to himself, but he was fighting a smile. As rapidly as he could he made his way over to the new Andorian ensign.

"Ensign Shani?" The captain asked, spotting a pair of people working on an older, cobbled together shuttle.

[Shani]

[Bay #2]

Mitchells was very enthusiastic, though maybe he was playing the gratitude a little bit too much when she went over the trifecta of proper piloting protocols. They differed for each class of starship, which differed with freighter class, then shuttles and personal vehicles that competed for look and comfort instead of core mileage.

He was impressed by how she could work and talk at the same time, though she was sure he could do the same with the right discipline. She was about to pull back under with the creeper when her CO arrived and called for her. Mitchells snapped into attention while she shimmied back out.

"Captain," she greeted. She couldn't sit up at the moment - her hand was still holding onto a sonic wrench that kept coolant from leaking out. "Are you looking for Lieutenant Avi?"

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Bay #2]

"Captain," she greeted. She couldn't sit up at the moment - her hand was still holding onto a sonic wrench that kept coolant from leaking out. "Are you looking for Lieutenant Avi?"

[Bay #2]

Stafford winced, hoping she didn't see it or interpret the human gesture.

"I've already spoken with Avi enough for one day, thank you." The captain said. "No, I'm here for you, Ensign. How'd you like to modify and fly the USS Gibson?"

In a way, Stafford was envious of her. She would get to be behind the conn for the ship of his youth, his first real posting in Starfleet. He had served on ships before and after that were faster, more powerful, more modern. But none of them had the special place in his heart that the old Mad Mel did.

[Shani]

[Bay #2]

Stafford winced, hoping she didn't see it or interpret the human gesture.

"I've already spoken with Avi enough for one day, thank you." The captain said. "No, I'm here for you, Ensign. How'd you like to modify and fly the USS Gibson?"

In a way, Stafford was envious of her. She would get to be behind the conn for the ship of his youth, his first real posting in Starfleet. He had served on ships before and after that were faster, more powerful, more modern. But none of them had the special place in his heart that the old Mad Mel did.

[Bay #2]

Shani's eyebrows rose at that and her finger slipped. Coolant was starting to ooze down her fingers. She quickly retreated back under to seal it shut. "You flatter me, Captain." Her voice was muffled under the ship. "But I question your recommendation. I am only an Ensign." Defying orders wasn't in her tone, nor was it a case of nervousness or dismissal. There had to be a higher order of specialists that had plenty more experience at maintaining and piloting the Gibson other than her.

But if he wanted her there, she would oblige. This was nothing more than 'pillow talk' or whatever human coined phrase was applicable here.