Leaks and Treason

[Cptn Corizon 0]

"I want to know your source," Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich demanded, assuming an imperious tone, "and why you leaked this information!"

 

The flag officer's tone, if noticed, was wasted on the Vulcan seated before him. "I do not deny knowledge of the Scorpiad rescue and the rebel prisoners aboard Excalibur," former-captain Sorehl responded, "but your accusation of improper disclosure is baseless."

 

"You haven't answered either question," the admiral snapped, moving back behind his desk.

 

"You're quite correct," the Vulcan agreed tersely. "I am being pointedly evasive, since I am not an officer under your command, nor a prisoner to be interrogated." He glanced around the expansive office that had once been occupied by his colleague Admiral Wayne Day. Abronvonvich sensed some comparisons going on.

 

Best to clear that up right away, he knew. "That could change," he challenged, redirecting his attention, "if you were charged with treason."

 

There was no sign of shock or outrage on the Vulcan's expression, but the admiral took small pleasure in seeing those hands come together and the fingers steeple into a double ta'al triangle. That comment had provoked some thought.

 

"If you had evidence of such a crime," Sorehl finally offered, pursing his lips, "you would pursue it more vigorously than extending a casual invitation to visit the Command Center." His fingers folded until they were laced together, his gaze never leaving the flag officer. "More likely this is an ill-advised attempt to elicit information by implying some need to reaffirm my loyalty to the Federation."

 

The room went quiet. Both men let the silence hang between them, admitting no discomfort.

 

"No one is questioning your loyalty," Abronvonvich stated flatly.

 

"That is wise," the Vulcan answered. "I have provided significant intelligence on insurgent activities in both Scorpiad and Dominion space."

 

"I've seen those reports," the admiral nodded, "and your service record before that."

 

"Good. Then you know that although my commission is inactive," Sorehl continued, "I remain firmly bound by my oaths regarding classified material and official secrets."

 

"And yet," Abronvonvich countered, "you're actively worked to undermine Federation policy in the Gamma Quadrant. You've been vocal in your displeasure with the administration's stance on aiding the Hundred and the races rebelling against the Scorpiad."

 

"My political leanings are outside your area of authority," the former captain insisted. "I am a private citizen. And unlike the Dominion or the Scorpiad, the Federation actually tolerates dissent."

 

"But not sedition," the vice admiral pressed.

 

The Vulcan appeared ready to launch into a response, then discarded it. "I have neither time nor inclination to quote the Guarantees from the Articles of Federation that protect its citizens from speculative charges and unlawful detainment." He eyed Abronvonvich. "Since you are neither android nor Vulcan, you might not have the stamina for it." Instead, he gestured toward the display on the desk. "Your sensor records will show I received an inbound communication from Scorpiad space within the last day. Further, you should be aware I've made no outgoing contact, except in response to your summons."

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Abronvonvich responded, non-committally.

 

"Admiral, I oversaw construction of this facility," the Vulcan reproached, "I am not unaware of its surveillance capabilities, especially when my home is on the planet directly beneath it."

 

Of course he would know there was no proof he was the leak, Abronvonvich muttered internally. He might not even be the leak. But he might know who was. The admiral leaned forward, changing tactics. "I've got people out there in the line of fire," he growled, "and someone is telling hostile forces their every move."

 

Sorehl seemed to muse on this statement, breaking eye contact. "It is a serious breach of operational security," he agreed. "While I have an interest in publicizing the outcome of these events, I would never violate OPSEC in the course of a mission; it might jeopardize Starfleet lives."

 

"So, you didn't leak this to FNS?"

 

"I believe I said that at the outset," Sorehl observed wryly.

 

"Then who did?" the admiral shot back, a slight growl to his voice.

 

The Vulcan shook his head. "I am not the instigator. As for any informants I have, I am obligated to protect their identities at the risk of their lives."

 

Abronvonvich frowned. "You're former Starfleet. I'd have thought you'd want to make this easier."

 

"The Admiralty was never particularly concerned with easing the conditions of my command," Sorehl observed. "But this much I will say: The Federation may pretend to ignore the civil war in this Quadrant, but its combatants cannot. If the Al-Ucard elders are able to tell me about Starfleet activities, they can tell others more inclined to spread the word, regardless of the consequences."

 

"That's not good enough, and you know it," Abronvonvich asserted, pointing a finger across the desk.

 

"This was a courtesy meeting," Sorehl explained, suddenly on his feet, "and it is now over." He threw the fold of his short cloak over both shoulders with a flourish. "I believe I know the way out." The Vulcan paused long enough to see the admiral make no effort to restrain him, then nodded respectfully, heading through the doors toward the Deck 2 VIP transporters.

 

Abronvonvich brooded behind his desk. He supposed he ought to identify with the former captain. It was a cliche to bristle at comparisons with a predecessor; it wasn't as though he disliked the Vulcan. Even Corizon had spoken well of him, although it was some back-handed complement about being "damned persistent" in talking him out of some course of action.

 

And Sorehl had given him something, purposefully.

 

"If the Al-Ucard elders are able to tell me about Starfleet activities," he'd said. It wasn't an admission, but the admiral doubted the Vulcan would make a casual generalization or careless mis-statement. The Al-Ucard had known about the disabled Scorpiad ship and its passengers. How had they managed it?

[Sorehl 0]

If unclear, the above joint log takes place on Camelot Station in the time between sims, but before the addendums to the logs "Making Trouble" and "Memos".