Assignment: Infilitration

[Major Cloud 0]

The marine barracks of the Excalibur were humming with activity after the latest round of PT. Striding in with a cool, collected confidence the master of their drills, Major Cloud Makisu greeted them with a slight smile as he headed towards his small office. They held their collective groans and whines till they were entirely sure he was out of ear shot and began to change into their duty uniforms.

 

The purple-eyed Dachlyd slid into his chair and looked about his sparsely decorated office. His steel-desk was flanked on either side by two simple plastic chairs that were rarely occupied. A small, chrome bookshelf was the only adornment on the three walls other than the replicator. He liked his office this way. The only clutter he ever allowed and then only out of necessity were PADDs and assorted paper work.

 

Thankfully, even that had stayed mostly off his desk. For what seemed the first time since he’d been assigned to the Excalibur over a year before, they were getting down time. He knew his Marines were less than thrilled about a milk run, not because they particularly liked being shot at by god-only-knew what alien race, but because it meant the Major was free to indulge himself in putting them through PT hell. Still he’d rather they be moaning because of sore joints and muscles than moaning because a pulse blast had ripped them to shreds.

 

Pushing that unpleasant thought to the back of his mind, he focused on his schedule scrolling on his screen. There was the usual litany of boring tasks and meetings he’d need to attend, like the joint Security-Marine meeting that happened twice a week to keep the jar-heads and the barnacles on the same page, or the staff meeting with the rest of the senior officers in which the dog would sit impassively and listen to the Orion or the Trill yammer on about something (or play footsie under the table), or the in-service medical was offering on field care so that in the event someone did get shot (notably the medic) someone else could use the hypospray. There was also a tactical reports to be filed to the Captain and well not the ex-oh till they had one. He also had the sparse intelligence report for this week to go over.

 

Sighing he leaned back into his chair. Part of him considered writing a letter to the people at Starfleet telling them their recruitment posters were grossly inflated (sure they said, come see the galaxy and fight the unknown, they said, tons of excitement they said); while the other part embraced the mundane of their mission with glee.

 

“Major,” the sound of someone breaking his reverie came.

 

“Yes,” he said without even looking up.

 

“I was… well some of us were wondering if we could…maybe…not have personal training every twice a day for a week?”

 

The Dachlyd very calmly closed his terminal and looked up at the Marine, no scratch that, the wimp who’d deigned to ask such a question. His purple eyes locked onto the figure, a slim, well built sandy haired human male named Nicholas Sash.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Sash froze. He hadn’t really thought he’d get the whole sentence out, let alone survive long enough to be asked to repeat himself. By now the whole of the squad who’d talked Sash into the operation were staring blankly from behind the doorframe, silently placing bets on whether Sash would soon be running around the ship until his heart exploded or if Makisu would simply toss him out an airlock and get it over.

 

“Well…umm…sir,” he stammered as the Major looked at him expectantly. “Nothing, sir.”

 

Normally, Makisu would have let it go, but he was feeling unusually playful; after all, the second lieutenant had worked up enough courage to actually question his commanding officer, this deserved more time. “Oh, I heard you the first time. Clearly there’s something you’d like to address.”

 

Sash was starting to turn a shade of red somewhere in between the red alert signals and a Thallonian. “Well uhh… it’s just, we’ve been doing more PT lately than normal and uh well, sir, um Major sir… we didn’t do this much PT at the Academy when my Cadet squad snuck into the General’s Quarters and replaced all his uniforms with cadet ones.”

 

The Major curiously wondered which General that had been and made a note to find out for latter amusement. Doing his best not to show his amusement, Makisu nodded.

 

“So, Lieutenant Sash, you’re saying I might be working you and your…uh… squad mates…over a little too hard?”

 

Sash nodded, “Yes, sir.”

 

“I see.”

 

Clearly seeing doom on his horizon, Sash started to open his mouth but was cut off by the Dachlyd.

 

“Tell you what, Mister Sash. I have a special assignment for you. If you pull it off, you and your…uh squad mates will be off PT the rest of this assignment.”

 

Sash wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good or bad thing. Tentatively, he nodded. “Yes?”

 

“Since you’re apparently skilled at infiltration, I want your squad to infilitrate the Captain’s quarters and tie a tail to all of his pants.”

 

“THAT… THAT…THAT…” Sash could barely process the request at more than a ‘oh dear jesus god’ level for a moment before calming himself. “That’s suicide, Major. Do you have any idea what the Captain would do to us?!? Have you seen those claws?”

 

Makisu was grinning from ear to ear, which almost frightened Sash more than the assignment. “Yes, I have. Watched him rip someone’s throat out with them during a holodeck training mission too.”

 

Sash’s complexion quickly drained from his face and it took an effort to keep from fainting. “Surely there’s something else. A panty raid on the Orion? Switching out the replicators chips in the mess to only produce Klingon food?”

 

The major shook his head. “Nope. That’s your assignment, unless you’d like to keep doing PT.”

 

The human frowned, wondering what circle of hell he was about to enter. “I see…”

 

“As an added bonus,” Makisu said. “If you can accomplish your primary objective and also steal me a bottle of that famed liquor of his, I’ll give the lot of you the week off.”

 

His eyes glinted. An entire week without duty? Oh this might be worth the risk afterall. “Um. How long do we have to get this thing done?”

 

“I expect to see the Captain with a tail by the time we leave orbit of our next planet and to be drinking a shot of his whisky while doing so.”