Security Drills & PsiCorps

[Chirakis 1]

Security Drills & PsiCorps
Cayne & Chirakis

Anomalous cerebral dominance is important to psychic ability because this implies a more developed right side of the brain, which is from where psychic ability appears to arise.  Specifically, in telepathy studies, the greatest activation occurred in the right parahippocampal gyrus. In addition, the corpus callosum, (the connection between the two sides of the brain) are enlarged in right brained people. 

Closing her eyes against the information overload, Kirel pinched the bridge of her nose to quell a growing headache.  Usually, the quiet seclusion of her office allowed her to think more clearly. Not this time.  The more she read, the more respect she gained for medical personnel.  Taking a deep breath, she realized that, at this point, her primary focus should be on the station's safety, and not on the minutia regarding telepathy and/or psychic ability.  She blanked the screen.

Commander Coleridge called for a plan that will lower response times, create concrete duty stations, increase the number of station drills, and prevent psychic attacks.  Response times depended on several factors, and they were always an issue, especially when civilians were concerned.  

All security teams drilled twice a week.  No one drill was ever the same, meaning that the situation always differed.  Were children involved? Families?  Pets? Explosive materials? Was station evacuation required?  Were we attacked from within?  From without?  Bombarded by rogue asteroids?  The list never ended.  Each department—engineering, science, medical, maintenance, etc.—was drilled once a month. Every civilian area as well, especially the commerce deck during closed hours, with security personnel posing as patrons.  And yet, there had to be a better way.

Concrete duty stations?  A few were located at strategic points, but for the most part security teams wandered throughout the station, and often in plain clothes.  For security to be confined to duty stations was actually more of a hazard than an asset.  It would allow intruders to pinpoint guarded areas… and unguarded areas.  Surely she misunderstood the commander.

Preventing psychic attacks?  Now, there was something she could deal with, but she would leave the specifics of telepathy and telepathic powers to medical.

At the moment, the Vulcan, V’Mal, remained sedated, in high-security confinement, and under 24 hour guard.  Some would have called that brutal and unnecessary.  In her mind, it was no more brutal than what the Vulcan had doled out to the crew of USS Mason and the security team, many of whom had gone insane. 

The Stone of Gol was another matter.  As per legend, the stone was destroyed by the Vulcan gods.  In reality, during the Time of Awakening the stone was broken into three pieces and was scattered over large distances of space.  Apparently it was not scattered far enough.  Were it up to her, she would smash the stone into a million tiny pieces and scatter them into the suns of a million worlds.  Or perhaps she should grind it to a fine powder and lace his food with it. Although… that might backfire and make him more powerful.

When the image of Commander Cayne appeared on the viewscreen, she pressed the door’s security release.

Commander Wyatt Cayne walked into her office with the same look he always maintained since arriving on Aegis: Just one more cup of coffee. In reality his existence mirrored a nomad, wandering between slumber and wakefulness. He never was in either for very long, and if he was he'd not be able to tell.

"I hope you did not take my jab at the size of this station as a personal insult Captain Chirakis, but this place is pretty big," he quipped. "Perhaps that is why the station is such a target. Like many planets, the size allows less savory entities to hide. I can only imagine what acts are planned here for execution elsewhere."

She eyed him in silent agreement.

Cayne looked for the closest place to sit down. At his age standing for long hours took a toll on his feet, and the rest of him. He clutched his trusty PADD as ideas were far easier to write down than remember. As he sat he opened his personal journal at the list of old man ideas.

“I did not consider your comment a jab or an insult, Commander,” Kirel replied. “It is the truth, and something that we must deal with soon. And let us hope that the powers that be understand our situation and will honor our request for funding.”

She stood, inhaling deeply, and began the slow pace that helped her think.  

“What Commander Coleridge has asked us to do will be a long, involved process, Commander.  It will definitely demand coffee.  So please....” She flicked a hand toward the coffee brewer, a gift from Dr. Davis.  “You seem to thrive on the brew. And while you are at it, bring one to me. Very dark. Black.  We have much to accomplish.”

While Cayne gathered enough energy to stand and move in that direction, the captain tapped her desktop, instantly regretting it. An imposing list of directives appeared on the wall viewscreen.  Some tasks were assigned to medical, some to science, and a lengthy list for security and engineering.  Cayne returned, she took the mug with a nod, then turned back to the screen.  “Where should we begin?”

"I'd wager we should clean up that mess from earlier." He gestured as he sat. "I never even got his name, but I suppose 'bad guy' is all I needed." After a sip. "We still have him?"

“We do,” she replied with a hint of frustration. “His name is V’Mal of Vulcan, but there are many others I would gladly tag him with.”

Cayne laughed. "Everytime I think of a place to shove someone off to I think of Rura Penthe, but as fun at that is to ask the Klingons for help, I'm not sure I want Mister V'Mal making friends with desperate criminals." Cayne sipped again, remembering to add more sugar next time. "We can't really keep him on the station, too dangerous. However if we wish to know exactly where he is at all times...wait, moving him is risky as well," he ended with a huff.

“Unfortunately, the decision is out of our hands,” Kirel replied, topping off her cup.  “What else do you have?” 

"I'm of the opinion that we should prepare for disasters here on Aegis based on likelihood. Psychic attacks are certainly something we should consider as part of a whole package of preparedness." He moved his hands as if holding a box in front of him. "We have had plenty of what I would call conventional attacks where ships attack the station. In the same vein we, by training, have done pretty well with those incursions. Let me see, what other attacks...." Cayne became lost in his thoughts as he looked for his next list item.

The captain held up a hand, putting her mug aside to lean against her desk, arms crossed.  “Instead of moving on to other attacks, I would like to consider the psychic attacks.  Have you any ideas?”

"Well, our telepathic members onboard are either going to be our strength or weakness. An attack could target them specifically or the only defense against those like myself with no real ability." He frowned.

“On the other hand,” the captain interrupted, adjusting to a more relaxing position, “we did have a sizable number in security who did quite well during the Vulcan’s attack.  What if we create a PsiCorps, beginning with those in security who have already displayed their ability.”

"Sounds like a good idea. We may wish to offer a form of training to anyone with helpful abilities. Medical should be able to help us screen those in security and beyond. Can we contact Betazed or Vulcan for any training they already have?"

The captain looked somewhat skeptical while she considered that for several minutes.  Then, “We need to tread lightly, Commander. We must consider the consequences of approaching civilians. If we decide to move forward with the PsiCorps and word gets out that we have one, the PsiCorps could come under attack and present us with more of a danger than a protection.

“Taking that into consideration….” She paused to pace for a moment, then stopped at her desk.  “The Corps must be chosen carefully… so carefully, in fact, that they will not even know we are testing them.  They will be vetted to Starfleet Intelligence standards. When we have a sizable group, the chosen will be read into the project.  Their uniforms will not be marked. No one will know that they are set apart from the others, except for the chosen few, the two of us, Captain Ramson, and Commander Coleridge. The name “PsiCorps” will never be spoken.”  Her gaze fixed on him questioningly. 

"You want this more of a Black Ops division rather than out in the open."

“Not Black.  Clandestine.  Everything will be done quietly and not out in the open.”

Cayne nodded simply and took another sip of his now warm coffee. "How would we run a drill with our PsiCorps? Guess we could have a large enough team to split them up and pit them against each other."

“It’s a bit premature to consider training drills, Commander.  I have not even suggested the program to Captain Ramson.  If Captain Ramson agrees to this proposal, we would move on to vetting, then recruiting. It will be a delicate process because if any of the chosen opt out of participation, we could have a problem on our hands.  So, we must tread lightly.”  She paced for a few minutes more, then stopped and turned to face him. “Thoughts, Commander?”

"The vetting process will indeed take a long time and we need interviews with those of our security team as a starting point. Medical evaluations as well."

“Medical and psychological. With the assistance of Drs Pavilion and Sandero.  And I doubt that the vetting process will take long since we already have our security team vetted beyond Starfleet standards.  And I know them very well; our security cameras serve a dual purpose.” She raised a brow.  “Is there something else, Commander?  You seem distracted.”

"Yeah, you'd be right." He exhaled. "It's about Officer Orrak. I have a history with her that goes back to the latter half of the Dominion war. For months I worked closely with her as her superior before I had to make a hasty exit." He looked up. "So that was it, or so I thought. Then she arrived on Aegis." He drank the rest of his coffee in one gulp.

"She's very observant and her facial expressions are bordering on her putting pieces together. Eventually she will have a complete picture. I don't believe she has ties to Cardassia any longer, but I need to make sure she does not get word back that I was undercover there. Pretty sure our avenues of entry are still in operation, but her figuring it out could be a problem. To that end I've sent a request to Starfleet Intelligence for a non-disclosure package."

Kirel considered that a while, waiting to be sure he was finished. “Then you would have her sign the non-disclosure agreement and tell her who you are?”

"Unless they say otherwise yes."

“And I would say that is a wise choice, Commander.  However, you seem not only distracted, but disturbed.  Are you aware of her entire background?”

"As much as she has reported to us and can be collaborated."

“Then, allow me to enlighten you.”  Kirel slipped into a chair next to him and relaxed.  “I would venture to say that some time after you left Cardassia she changed sides.  And what I am to tell you further, I must ask you to keep top secret, understood?” 

"I can sign and NDA," he smiled. "Understood Captain."

“I will take your word, Commander.  If you break it, there is a very hungry air lock that would enjoy your presence.”  She returned his smile. “But to the point….”

“You are aware that she was a lieutenant in the Cardassian Elite Guard, but you might not be aware that she was highly decorated: twice for valor, once for injury in the line of duty, and above all, she had been awarded the elusive Golden Emblem for Gallantry.

“Not long after the beginning of the Dominion War, SI-6 marked her for recruiting.  She had become a turncoat to the Cardassians because of what she witnessed at the top levels.  Given her expertise and experience, I would be very surprised if she did not already know who you are.  However, if she has not put the pieces together, it is very possible that she will soon, but I doubt that she would speak of it, unless she approaches you privately.

“That said, I suggest that you follow through on your idea of non-disclosure, and I will gladly be your witness. A simple precaution.”