Chasing Shadows Morrison, Reed, Granger Cass shed the jacket to her polyester pantsuit on approach to Morrison. "Commander,” she nodded in greeting, “any more glitches?” A flick and the jacket hit a nearby chair as she pulled off her shoes and nodded to Lieutenant Reed. “I had them checked out with Dvokr after we left the facility. Nothing appears wrong on the diagnostics. The friendly simply showed as a yellow.” Morrision said with a hint of disappointment. “They are working fine now. There’s a big piece of this we don’t know.” “What big piece are you thinking of?" Cass asked the logistics officer as she stepped out of the slacks to reveal a pair of running shorts; the slacks and shoes took wing to join the jacket. “I got a few pieces I’m working on myself.” “I’ve combed through the files pertinent to this mission, I have yet to see anything that does not coincide with all historical accounts. Inasmuch as I have been able to ascertain there is no evidence of terrorist activities in the administration offices,” Reed put in, a frown on her face. The three stared at each other for a long moment. “Perhaps we should start over, discuss everything we have observed so far, even the most minute details,” Reed stated, breaking the silence. “So," began Cass, "we start with what we do know, which is not a whole hell of a lot. Then we try to answer the questions, like why they sent us back here blind.” “Obviously, someone doesn’t know what they are on about. They have a piece of information we are running down, without any specifics.” Frowning, Reed slipped the glasses off of her nose and pocketed them. "And it's nearly impossible to find a terrorist without the background intel to point us in some kind of direction," sighed Cass. "But since we’re in the brainstorming stage, mind if I just jettison the flak that’s clogging my brain right now?” she asked in a low tone to judge the atmosphere while checking the area for listening ears. “Perhaps it would be best if that sort of discussion did not take place indoors.” “No, certainly not, but where?” said Morrison. Thirty minutes later they were wandering through a field just outside the subdivision, aiming for a cluster of rocks that looked like a rustic picnic area. “Removing any suspicions from this equation, let us discuss what we know so far in regards to this mission,” the navigation officer suggested in a succinct manner. “Aye, Lieutenant," said Cass. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to begin?” she paused; Reed shook her head. “You mentioned, ‘someone doesn’t know what they’re on about?’ Highly unlikely, ma’am. "Time travel is a volatile subject technically, tactically, and especially politically. Believe me, the last thing the Fleet head shed wants is political interference. "In addition, a starship the caliber of Challenger is too valuable an asset to risk on a whim. Add the personnel aboard to the cost of the ship, count in the time and effort, not to mention the expense involved in their training and equipping, then add Delta Team. Training for Special Operations is two to four years, high budget. Equipment is two to three times the expense of regular ‘Fleet. Multiply that by the eight in Delta that you have aboard and we’re talking into the millions of credits just for that one package. They’re not likely to risk that on a whim either. Takes too long and too much expense to replace. So I’d nix the notion, but you might have a point about them not thinking everything through, ‘not knowing what they’re on about.’” A brief silence fell over the group as Morrison and Reed let Granger’s words sink in. “While that may be true, it does not explain why we know virtually nothing regarding this mission,” the red head stated, turning the information over in her mind. “The details provided in our briefs is scanty at best. We also do not seem to be uncovering anything in our investigation that has appeared suspicious or out of place. All that being said, what would you suggest is going on?” Reaching the picnic area, Cass took up residence on a rock and spoke as the others settled in. “The brief said there were rumors of unknown number of terrorists, estimated a dozen. Species, genders, objective, and motive also unknown but assumed highly professional with advanced technology. “Reasons why they’d not tell us any more? Too many come to mind, but for starters there might be a double-agent at work, wanting us to disrupt the mission in the name of ‘saving’ it. Also, one terrorist could have jumped back in time to control a group of well-meaning locals, maybe environmentalists, making them think they’re going to save the universe and mankind if they disrupt the mission.” She paused to hang her head. “Worst case scenario? There is no terrorist threat and for some reason they wanted Challenger out of the way in the future. But like I say, this is flak jettison, maybe a little paranoid and could be way off the mark.” “Good points, the whole lot of them. It is hardly likely that Starfleet would send us off, chasing ghosts. Any one of the scenarios you describe could be what is actually happening, which makes it even more difficult for us to decide how to proceed.” Frowning, Reed stared down at the ground. “What do you suppose we ought to do?” Cass sighed. “Watch and wait. NASA security is tight, especially in the last month, but they don’t have the history to tell them how easy it can be to sabotage a mission. It’s the operatives you don’t see that are the ones you want to worry about. All it takes is a missing dot in the code, a small nick in an O-ring, a virus wiped in an astronaut’s suit or breathing apparatus.... I could go on, but you get the picture. “Meanwhile, Delta is on high alert rotation, meaning that Souter and Daniels are staggering overwatch, constant movement, alternating four-hour sleep cycles around the clock. Tasha and I are taking up positions during off-duty hours to join them. Commander Murphy has granted change of position so I can work with the team in logistics,” she nodded to Morrison, “and float relief in watch rotations when needed. The rest of Delta is monitoring their AORs 24/7 until launch is away and mission is accomplished, same as the overwatch team.” Jumping down from her perch on the rocks, Reed began to pace back and forth, her mind whirling in circles. “You are right of course, but it does not make things any easier. I suppose if we do happen to stumble upon something, the more alert we are, the more likely to notice anything out of place. However, this might also cause us to be chasing into shadows better left undisturbed.” “I’m liking this situation less and less,” said Cass tersely. “There’re too many variables, not enough eyes for analysis, and I’m pretty certain something heavy is going to go down soon. It’s in the air; my guts don’t usually lie. “But the bottom line, Lieutenant? The why isn’t our department. We’re here to do a job, to protect and defend. Think that should be our focus from now on. Otherwise, you’re right. We’d be chasing shadows.” Stopping mid-pace, Reed nodded grimly. “We ought to get back, the others might be looking for us and perhaps they have something new to report.”