Punishment and Subterfuge

[Wes Roberts 0]

(AN: Set during the 48 hour TBS last sim)

Executive Officer's Quarters,

Sky Harbor Aegis

 

Wes sat at his desk in his quarters, the reports received from both Captain Chirakis and Temporal Corps Assistant Director Baliss sitting on the granite desktop. There was a third padd that had GW's security review of the Revenge's communications array. And while Mai's message was directed towards Orion space, it passed exceedingly close to the out of time and place Comanche Creek. And Commander Wesley was of sufficient appearance to Mai that he could believe her to be a relative. He stood, and moved to within range of the door sensor. “Mai, can I see you for a few minute,” he called.

 

“Yes,” she replied, entering the office. An apron was around her waist, and a dish towel thrown over her shoulder.

 

“Mai, why did you send that message?”

 

“What message?”

 

“The one that passed extremely close to Comanche Creek...and was in Low Kolari.”

 

“That one...I did it because I didn't want to see my aunt die uselessly on some station on the Klingon frontier.”

 

“Mai,” Wes' voice softened, slightly. “What you did could have massive repercussions for myself, Captain Chirakis, SOE and SOCOM. TempCorps is involved now. Because the message, which did have a header for Captain Calestorm's ship, wasn't picked up just by them. It was picked up by almost every listening station along the border.”

 

He sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Mai? I can't very well keelhaul you, or dismiss you from the ship or station.”

 

Mai sat down, her eyes soft. “You will do whatever you must, my Lord,” she said.

 

“Fine then. Your allowance is cut off for the next two months, as are Midway privileges. I'll forward a not to SubCommander Dabi. You're to be allowed on the Midway only for household necessities until May 1^st.”

 

“Acceptable punishment.”

 

“I'm not done yet. After dinner tonight, I want to see you in Holosuite 3, in those silks that you kept all these years.”

 

“For pleasure or punishment?”

 

“Both.”

 

-=-=-=-=-

 

Drumming his fingers, Wes waited for the secure transmission to wind its way through subspace, and reach Department 214 headquarters. The screen lit up, eventually, with the SOE logo. “Roberts, have you any idea what time it is?”

 

“Maturin. We have a problem.”

 

“What 'kind' of problem?”

 

“You are aware of the incidents in Romulan space?”

 

“You mean the Breen death star, the supernova that irradiated Romulus, and the resulting anomaly that dropped a hundred and twenty seven year old ship smack dab in the middle of three of the most advanced ships in Starfleet? Or does it concern Assistant Director Baliss?”

 

“All of the above, Maturin. It seems Mai sent a text message to the Creek before we began our return to Aegis. And everyone picked it up.”

 

“You've disciplined her, haven't you?”

 

“Of course. No, the bigger problem is with TempCorps. And Baliss being completely, and utterly useless, administrator who sees threats to the timeline where ever he goes and overreacts. I swear that man would love to blinky us into idiocy, for all that we know of temporal mnemonics.”

 

“What do you want us to do?”

 

“End his witch hunt. I know it'll cost me in the long run, but the more I can keep him away from Captain Chirakis, the less I have to worry about some regular Fleet sycophant taking over the station.”

 

“Understood. What's the progress on the Tjurakh situation?”

 

“Backburner while we deal with the refugee and resettlement problem from the supernova. Khaiell has some good intel, and it appears that at least one Orion Cartel faction is helping them—the Black Kris.”

 

“That figures. Continue with your mission, Roberts. Is there anything else?”

 

“Yes. Let General Maden know that they never equipped Revenge with a communications suite capable of piercing slipstream. I've got the engineers on the station researching into it, but they made need more...classified information. Namely on the Borg.”

 

“I'll see what I can do with General Maden. Maturin out.”