Chapter 404

COMMANDER'S OFFICE

STARBASE 5

Adama was going through his messages before flying up to the Ranch for more strategizing on the Wisconsin. He was looking for a very particular message from Admiral Nogura, and Nogura did not disappoint. When he saw the message, he opened it up. It required his security clearance, which he gave, then read the message.

TO: ADMIRAL WILLIAM ADAMA, COMMANDER STARBASE 5.

FROM: ADMIRAL ISO NOGURA, CSO STARFLEET

ADAMA, CONCERNING YOUR REQUEST TO INFORM MR. COGLEY AND ADMIRAL GEORGE MCGONAGLE (RET) CONCERNING OPERATION PEANUTBUTTER IS APPROVED WITH THE FOLLOWING LIMITATION: YOU CAN ONLY LET HIM KNOW OF THE RESCUE THAT THE WISCONSIN PERFORMED ON THE EXCALIBUR AND OF HIS RESCUE OF THE ENTERPRISE ON STARDATE 6615.0. NO MENTION OF OTHER SHIPS THAT HAVE BEEN ATTACKED IS APPROVED. NOGURA OUT.

NEW HAVEN RANCH

STARBASE 5

Mitchell was bored. He was listening to the light banter over breakfast, and all it was just old men talking about old times or whatever. Finally, it was done. McGonagle made the same offer to go flying a helicopter while they talked, and Mitchell politely accepted.

Walking back to the landing pad, the helicopter was already sitting there. Pell had said the instructor was some ranch hand named Charley Waite. Pell said that they got along great, that Waite was 'George.' Mitchell thought that this Waite could not be all that great, after all he never went to the Academy.

Mitchell walked up and Waite was just finishing preflighting the Huey. He walked over and offered his hand. "You must be Pete, I'm Charley." Waite spoke in a relaxed, southwestern drawl and was dressed in a cowboy hat and flight suit.

Mitchell reluctantly shook his hand, "Ensign Mitchell." He looked at the Huey. Pell was so excited about the flight he failed to mention about the dilapidated state of the helicopter. Mitchell looked at the ancient flying machine. The color looked faded somehow, it also looked like the linkages were dirty, what was it around those? Grease? This machine was so ancient that it was barely above horse and buggy technology. And now he has this illiterate ranch hand that is going to be his 'instructor'?

Mitchell asked, "Is this safe to fly?"

Waite laughed a quiet little laugh, "Yes, she's all set for flying. Don't mind the look. It's not as nice as shuttlecraft, the covering of your shuttlecraft is bonded to the surface, it will never dull or even chip. We use paint on the helicopter, and this paint is what is called olive drab."

Mitchell looked at it, it was drab all right. Not glossy. "Why that color?"

"The owner felt it important to keep the original look as best as we could. This is flying history."

Mitchell wrinkled his nose a bit, "That it is. What about that black stuff on the hub?"

Waite did not get a good feeling of Mitchell's last statement or question, "That hub is where the rotor is attached. All the linkages need to be lubricated. We have moving parts under a lot of stress, and it requires lubrication. Your Starships need lubrication on moving parts too."

Mitchell knew Waite was right, but did not want to concede the point. "Yes, but we keep it all clean. It is designed to be clean."

Waite could feel the lack of enthusiasm. "Pete, if….."

Mitchell said, "It's Ensign Mitchell."

Waite calmly said, "I'm not in Starfleet, but as you wish. Ensign. If you do not want to fly, no sweat. I have work to do."

Mitchell asked, "Work in this?"

"Yes, I got a field crop to spray after this, then after that I need to fly some cargo to Propwash Junction."

"Propwash Junction?"

Waite took off his hat and set it in a compartment in the back. "It's a joke out here, it's what we call that airbase you flew by on the way in. We have more than props flying out of there though. You want a joyride?"

Mitchell said, "Sure."

"Good, if you want to change, you can."

Mitchell instinctively said, "Why?"

Waite grabbed a flight suit out of the small cargo compartment that looked Mitchell's size. "Well, you'll be more comfortable. Second, you won't have to worry about this ancient, dusty, greasy, smelly machine ruin that nice uniform of yours."

Mitchell and Waite traded looks, Mitchell nodded quietly and took the flight suit. He changed in the shuttle and walked back to the Huey. Buckling in, Waite offered a helmet with a microphone on it. Mitchell put it on and through the intercom he heard Waite say, "The volume controls are here, give me a minute to fire up the fusion reactor…"

"I thought these things flew on oil or something."

Waite was going through the procedure and the rotor overhead started turning. "They used to, and this one did when we originally bought it. The owner had it replaced with a fusion reactor that runs a turbine feeding a transmission to the rotors. We had the transmission and rotors replaced with the best of modern materials; they will last at least ten times longer than the originals."

The Huey was up to its normal thump thump thump speed and Waite gently brought the craft into a hover. Mitchell was surprised at how the hover felt, it was not like hovering on a shuttlecraft. A shuttlecraft was rock solid and steady. This thing was thumping, shaking, tilting, and rocking all over the place. It was impressive that Waite was mostly still, but it was not like a shuttle. Waite said, "We do a quick check in this hover, it is technically called a pickup. Right here in pickup, we check the weight and balance of the Huey, and we have our final mechanical check."

"How do you know if you're out of specs?"

Waite explained, "Well, if we are pulling the right amount of torque but not off the ground yet, we are probably overweight. If I get an abnormal nose down or up trying to lift off, we are probably out of balance. The very fact that I made it to the pickup means we are ok. If I tried to take off directly into forward flight or straight up, I do not have time to test these things. Ok, here we go."

Waite pulled collective more and nosed ahead on the stick, the Huey started moving forward and climbing.

Adama heard the Huey fly overhead. "Well, there they go."

Cogley nodded, "I hope Mr. Mitchell has a good time. He did not seem that pleased with being here."

McGonagle noted, "I picked up on that too. Where did you find him?"

Adama said, "He and Pell, the Ensign from yesterday, are both slated to transfer to the Wisconsin. Because of Jameson's interference earlier, I'm suspicious and wanted to check out any crew rotations to Jacobs' ship. I wanted to get a feel about them."

McGonagle thought aloud, "What would be the reason to have them aboard?"

Adama said, "We know, at least Cogley and I know that Jameson has placed one person aboard specifically to spy. I suspect another person is providing insight as to what is going onboard that ship. I wanted to assess Mitchell and Pell as possible spies for Jameson."

Cogley said, "Bill, that's a bit strong."

Adama shook his head, "I don't know the right word for it Mr. Cogley. But spy is what they are doing."

Cogley nodded, "Perhaps, and please call me Sam."

Adama grabbed a couple of pads, "I protect my people under me, and I just got the approval to release more data. It concerns two actions that Jacobs has been involved in the past that will probably come up in the future. The first George knows about Sam, and the second neither of you know about."

McGonagle knew immediately what was going to be discussed at first. Adama continued, "Sam, you may not realize, but Jacobs has quite a distinguished record."

Cogley admitted, "I knew he was a tender Captain, and a Raptor pilot before that. What are you referencing?"

Adama said, "Well, most recently, Jacobs rescued Captain Hank Jackson from Klingons. They were using a stasis weapon to disable a ship." Adama gave a brief account of the rescue of the Excalibur. McGonagle leaned back in his chair while looking at the pad. Cogley was spellbound.

McGonagle was careful to choose his words, because he knew of the history of operation Peanutbutter. "How many Klingon ships were involved?"

"Two at first, then a third entered the fight. It was Kang."

McGonagle said, "And they are still alive?" McGonagle then realized something. "Kang stopped it, didn't he?"

Cogley asked, "Why do you say that?"

McGonagle explained, "Klingons don't fall into two groups, you have to look at them like a spectrum. Kang is extremely honorable and a heroic warrior, to the point of becoming a Dahar Master. If Kang entered an already lopsided fight, we would have lost both the Wisconsin and the Excalibur. He was there to stop it."

Cogley asked again, "But why would Kang stop it?"

McGonagle said, "Because the action wasn't authorized by the Klingon High Command."

Adama interjected, "I can't comment on that. But yes, Kang was there, and he did stop the action."

McGonagle realized what happened immediately, but did not want to put Adama in a bad position of releasing classified information in front of Cogley. Adama continued, "The other action I want to talk about happened four years ago, the USS Wolverine, under command of Jacobs, rescued the Enterprise. George knows about that. Sam, this is what happened….."

"Ensign, would you like to try to fly her?"

Mitchell had enough with this cowpoke. This illiterate hick thinks he can fly better than him? Mitchell is going to show him a thing about Starfleet trained personnel. Of course he could fly this thing, he flew a helicopter simulation back at the Academy and did it well. "Yes, I'm all set."

"Ok, we're at a thousand feet and 100 knots, you have the ship."

Mitchell grabbed the controls and immediately the Huey drifted left. He gently brought it back to on course and worked the controls. He could not stop moving the controls, this was not like the simulations. Every time he made an input, he had to make a few more to counteract it.

Waite said over the noise of the Huey, "You got it, its really easy to overcontrol the Huey."

After about an hour of flying, Mitchell said, "I think I got this."

Waite chuckled, "You do? Well, I got to get some work done. Want to do some cropdusting Ensign?"

Mitchell shrugged, "It can't be all that hard, just fly over the crop."

Waite nodded, "Yeah, you're right. Fly toward Propwash Junction. We must get the equipment first."

Mitchell asked, "Is all you do is cropdust? What else is there to do here?"
Waite said, "Plenty of stuff to do, the work never ends."

"But are you going to do this the rest of your life?"

Waite nodded quietly, he knew where this was going, "Maybe."

Mitchell asked, "You are my age, this is a waste of time. Why are you even here? How did you get here?"

Waite thought a bit, then answered, "To put it simply, I was having problems after high school. I was drifting, no goals, no life. I had gotten involved in a little trouble, and the Judge recommended I get in touch with Samuel Cogley. I did, and to make it short I agreed to spend six months out here working the ranch."

Mitchell said, "You're a felon?"

Waite shook his head, "No, fortunately it stopped before it got there. The Judge was going to give me probation or come out here. I took 'come out here' and worked my tail off."

Mitchell asked, "You said six months. You learned to fly this in six months?"

Waite shook his head, "No, I had to work my way up. Turns out I got a knack for this."

"How long have you been here?"

Waite said, "Five years."

"Don't you want to do more with your life than be a cowhand?"

Waite did not respond to the insult. "No, it suits me."

Mitchell shook his head. "It doesn't seem like much of a life, herding cattle."

Waite nodded his head knowingly with a small short smile. "It has its rewards."

Mitchell shrugged, "Whatever turns your crank. Where is this cropduster package we have to pick up?"

Waite pointed, "It's on the west side of the airfield."

Mitchell looked for the landing pad. On the landing pad was a large, flat box with rods sticking out the sides. "It takes up the whole pad."

"Don't worry, land on top of it. It has hooks for attachment."

Mitchell said sarcastically, "You want me to land on that box? It can't be done!"

Waite said, "Yes, just make small adjustments."

Mitchell tried, and just could not hold the helicopter steady enough. Finally, he said, "You're crazy, it can't be done."

Waite shrugged, "I have the ship. Watch. I come from behind here in a slow hover. I'm at three feet, which gives a foot of clearance above the duster. See the grooves along the sides? That's where the skids will go in."

Mitchell watched as Waite glided along the top of the cropduster. Waite finished his narration, "When I get into position, I stop the forward motion. As we were sliding up, I could see all the clamps were open, ready for attachment. Now that I'm in position, I gently lower down and land on the duster. Once down, I activate the clamps and we're ready for crop dusting."

The Huey sat down on the duster in the grooves. The duster was remote controlled through a pad on the Huey. Waite worked the pad and the clamps attached to the skids. A quick check and Waite lifted off and checked the weight and balance. Then he took off and went to the designated field. "Don't worry Ensign, nobody gets it the first time, you actually did very well for never flying a Huey before."

Mitchell was incensed. This cowpoke showed him up on flying. He remained quiet as they went and dusted a field and watched this hayseed do his work. Mitchell checked his communicator, three hours until he was scheduled to fly the Admiral back. Waite seemed to pick up on some of Mitchell's attitude, "Ensign, would you like to try a couple of passes? It's actually quite fun."

Mitchell grabbed the controls, "Why do this with ancient equipment. It would be easier to do this with shuttles, or even with drones."

Waite nodded, "Drones aren't good, the crop duster pilot is also inspecting the crop while he is doing the work."

"Inspecting what?"

Waite said, "Everything. Crop health, proper soil moisture, condition of the utility roads, anything you see, you assess. Drones don't do this."

"Why not shuttles?"

Waite pointed above him. "As you well know, atmospheric shuttles depend largely on antigrav units to stay in the air. They adjust their path with thrusters. This is bad for two reasons, when you pull out of a dive, you scorch crops with thruster fire. Also, the Huey's blades propel the material down onto the crop. Shuttles don't do that, sometimes the material blows too far off the crop."

Mitchell thought that it had to be easier to do this with modern equipment, not a three-hundred-year design. Never mind that it had modern materials, why do this? What do they use to get between places out here? Cart and buggy? Chariot?

BRIDGE

USS WISCONSIN

STANDARD ORBIT PLANET 4 SYSTEM SQC-122

Lt. Maya started her report, "Planet 4 is class M, approximately equivalent to Earth in size, composition, vegetation, and all other critical variables. Science teams are working the planetary scanners to get more specifics on the planet, but so far, no surprises."

Jacobs nodded, "And the big question is where?"

Maya pointed to a map behind her on her screen, "I suggest here. From what Commander Bauer was requesting, that area seems to be the best for the Big Swim."

Jacobs asked Bauer, "Well Jack? When do you want to do the Big Swim?"

Bauer said, "Give me 24 hours to set up the targets and the course, and I'll be ready. I'll coordinate with Mr. Carter on mission specifics for the drop."

Jacobs said, "Let's do this."

NEW HAVEN RANCH

STARBASE 5

Cogley sat spellbound. He was amazed and analyzed the tale that Adama and McGonagle told. "He never told me."

McGonagle said, "Don't be too hard on him Sam. He could not tell you."

Cogley asked, "Why is this classified? To hide the fact that there was a battle somewhere out in space? What is the significance?"

Cogley's brain was going tremendously fast. The common points were that Jacobs was involved, Jacobs was rescuing a starship, and…. Klingons. Suddenly it became clear.

Cogley looked at the two others. "The Organian treaty."

Adama shrugged, "I can't say anything. George, can you?"

McGonagle looked to Cogley evenly and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"The Organians are supposed to prevent skirmishes and even a Federation-Klingon war. Evidently, they are not as all-powerful as we thought." Cogley thought again and surmised, "So it was classified to prevent that knowledge from being public. Why? That knowledge would cause the public to support an expansion of Starfleet. That is only good for everyone."

McGonagle said, "Not everyone."

Cogley thought, who does not benefit? Even Jameson had construction yards in his district. Why not have the buildup that they were thinking? He could get rich from illegal kickbacks. "I don't get it."

McGonagle thought aloud, "Not everyone's sole motivator is greed."

Cogley nodded, "Yes, power is a great motivator, but there is only a certain amount of power that one can hold." Suddenly, Cogley got an insight. "And who is the most powerful man? The President. How does one get there? They need a crusade of some sort, something to rally the public. One such as the peaceful exploration of the Galaxy. Jameson has always hated the military aspects of Starfleet. He wants people to believe the Galaxy is safe, therefore the need for Starfleet to have weapons is not present. He's not being motivated by money; he's motivated by power and needs to control the flow of information. Tell me gentlemen, there have been other attacks other than these two, haven't there?"

McGonagle and Adama kept poker faces, however Cogley looked at them. "How many? Ten? Fifty?" They kept their poker faces.

Cogley said, "And the order to classify these came from Jameson and the committee?" More poker stares. "Thank you, gentlemen, I appreciate that."

Adama said, "We haven't said anything."

Cogley smiled, "Your faces told me everything I need. Through microexpressions."

Adama shook his head. "I never heard of them."

Cogley explained, "Discovered by a Psychologist on Earth at the end of the 20th century. Basically, I read small facial twitches and interpret them."

Adama said, "You can tell if a person is lying…."

Cogley smiled, "Or withholding the truth, as in your cases. Don't worry, I won't use what I heard today. Nobody will know, but we have bigger problems."

Adama asked, "What?"

Cogley stated, "In order for Jameson to get to the Presidency, he's going to make Starfleet look unnecessary and unwanted."

Adama was walking with Cogley and McGonagle to the shuttle. Cogley stated, "I'll be on this, just going to start from a new perspective, the perspective that Jacobs is not the ultimate target." In the distance, one could hear the wop wop wop of the Huey.

Adama started speaking up over the growing noise. "I'll keep you informed as to what else develops. Looks like Ensign Mitchell is done crop dusting for the day."

The Huey approached the landing pad. It rocked left and right on approach. Just before landing, it did not achieve a stable hover, rocking all over the place. Finally, it touched down then the engines shut down. As the blades wound down, McGonagle said, "Bill, come back here anytime you want to relax. We will set you up with some flying, or food or whatever."

Cogley added, "And the Final Frontier Steakhouse is also at your disposal, eat there whenever you want to, on the house."

Mitchell and Waite shook hands and Mitchell started to walk back to the group. Adama said to the others, "Thank you, I will. I am puzzled by the owner who supports Starfleet but does not want to sign a contract. I will take you up on your offers." Adama called out to Mitchell, "Ready to go home Mr. Mitchell?"

Mitchell smiled, "Yes sir."

Adama asked, "Did you enjoy yourself Mr. Mitchell?"

"Absolutely sir." Cogley caught the lie, and looked at Adama, who caught the meaning of Cogley's look.

Adama nodded, "Let's get back to the shop, see what has happened in our absence. Sam, George, we will be in contact."

McGonagle and Cogley watched the shuttle rise into the air and head south to the Starbase. McGonagle said to Cogley, "Sam, that Jedi mind-reading trick you do is going to get you in trouble someday."

Cogley nodded, "Perhaps, but I'm careful and discreet. For now, I'm going to think about what was discussed, and also what was not discussed. I think I will inform Josh that we have things well underway, nothing else. I can feel that Jameson is starting to work on an elaborate trap."

McGonagle added, "And we have to determine how large that trap is."

GNN EVENING NEWS

Andrea Price's dissertation on the daily news was typical. She had the perfect expression for whatever news item she was reporting on. Her expression suddenly turned serious, "GNN today is now confirming an earlier story that we reported early in the week. Starfleet has confirmed that they are investigating an unnamed starship for multiple violations of the Prime Directive. Admiral Clayborne, second-in-command of Starfleet under Admiral Nogura issued the following statement."

The video changed to that of the public relations podium at Starfleet Command, behind it was Clayborne, "Starfleet Command takes these rumors very seriously, both the seriousness of the charge, and that of the leak."

A reporter hurriedly said, "What ship and how was the Prime Directive violated?"

Clayborne shook his head, "We can't say which ship, and of course we can't say how the Prime Directive was violated until we investigate the matter."

Another reporter asked, "Admiral, this is so broad that we cannot take you seriously, we must have some information. What planet is involved?"

Clayborne said, "First contact with planet Tangia, system AGN-21. A system very far from here."

"Is this the planet where the babies were kidnapped from?"

Clayborne raised his hands and shook his head, "I cannot talk about that. We will find that out in the investigation."

A reporter spoke with a loud, booming, voice. "Admiral Clayborne, Harrold Williams, GNN."

The room quieted down. Clayborne focused on Williams, "Yes, Mr. Williams?"

"I have numerous sources that are stating that this unnamed Starship also collected a bioweapon from that planet and that Starfleet is going to further weaponize this bioweapon. What is Starfleet's position on that?"

Clayborne shook his head again, "By law, Starfleet cannot use bioweapons. As to the rest of your statement, I cannot comment on what happened until we investigate what happened. Thank you, that is all."

Price summed the press conference up, "We now have that Starfleet has started an investigation into a starship that visited Tangia, and that there may be a possibility of bioweapons being involved. GNN will keep you informed as new developments come. Andrea Price, GNN."

SAMUEL T COGLEY'S OFFICE

STARBASE 5

Cogley ran the press conference video back and started playing it again. The game is starting to get interesting. Starfleet is now admitting that something happened. But it also is interesting as to what Starfleet is not saying, namely what Clayborne is not saying. He froze the picture right at the point of Clayborne's statement on the leak. It only lasted a few milliseconds, but the microexpression was right there to see. Clayborne smiled when he mentioned the leak. Clayborne was pleased that the leak happened.

Cogley sat back, to him it was confirmation that Clayborne was working for Jameson, and that Jameson was out to discredit Starfleet.

STARFLEET COMMANDER IN CHIEF

ADMIRAL NOGURA'S OFFICE

Clayborne walked in. Nogura stood instantly bringing a formality to the meeting. Nogura had a sharp attention to detail and his uniform was immaculate. He felt that example started from the top down. Nogura and Clayborne had their clashes before, but this time Clayborne crossed the line. "Admiral Clayborne, this press conference, explain yourself."

Clayborne had done his share of dressing down more junior officers, and now that he was second-in-command, he had not had one done to him in a very long time. Nogura had always been an intimidating person, all five and a half feet of him, and that was on a good day. He somehow made up for his shortness to be able to intimidate anyone. With Nogura's statement, Clayborne somehow was feeling like he was back in boot camp with a drill sergeant about to lower the boom on him. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Nogura glared at him, "The statement you said at the press conference. Why did you call the press conference?"

Clayborne said, "It's the truth."

Nogura shook his head, "No, it's part of the truth, designed to make certain people look bad."

Clayborne shrugged, "I really do not know what you mean. It is the truth. I just told the truth."

Nogura said sternly, "Why did you mention the Tangian system?"

"I did? It was a slip of the tongue. It is no big deal"

Nogura nodded, "Your slip of the tongue is officially noted. That bit of information the Admiralty has not officially decided to release. What is this investigation into the Wisconsin? I was not aware that an investigation was started."

Clayborne attempted to dodge the question, "I never mentioned an investigation."

Nogura was prepared for this. He walked over and touched a button on his desk. The big screen on his wall replayed the press conference. After the replay, Nogura stated, "You mentioned three times of an investigation that was going to be done. I am not aware of an investigation. Have you any knowledge of an investigation that is going to be started by the JAG?"

Clayborne blurted, "No, but don't you think there should be one?"

Nogura corrected, "That is not the question, but I have noted that you are recommending an investigation. On what grounds is your recommendation?"

Clayborne froze for a second, he realized that he was on unsteady ground. He started thinking before talking right now, "I did not recommend an investigation. I just merely said do not you think there should be one."

"Why do you think there should be an investigation, Admiral Clayborne?"

The way Nogura asked the question, very formally, was extremely intimidating. Clayborne realized he could not back down, no doubt the old man had this office wired and this was being recorded. "I was just remarking that 'maybe' we should do an investigation considering the seriousness of the charge."

Nogura nodded, "I understand your position. Now consider this, the Wisconsin's action on Tangia has already been reviewed by the Admiralty, as you well know. Their actions have been found to be consistent within the guidelines of the Prime Directive. If any further investigation is to be done, it will have to be done with new evidence being presented. We already have all the officer's reports, the logs, the electronic data that was gathered. If any evidence comes up that warrants an investigation, the source of the evidence will have to be looked at since Captain Jacobs claims that we have everything now."

Clayborne was about to respond when Nogura continued, "I am going to recommend to the JAG that an immediate investigation be started considering the leaks about the Wisconsin's trip to Tangia. Whoever is leaking this information has extremely good information and must be well placed in Starfleet or on the Senate committee, and they are leaking unauthorized information. Also, I have a request from the President himself that you go with Ambassador Mamet on a treaty negotiation mission to planet Maghreb. I am giving you notice that I am recommending to the JAG you be deposed before your departure to Planet Maghreb. I am determined that we find out who the leaker or leakers are and your information will be invaluable in finding that out."

"You can't do that!"

Nogura glared at him. "As C-in-C Starfleet, there is not a whole lot I cannot do. Admiral Clayborne, you will not schedule a press conference without my direct approval. Furthermore, I am going to recommend to the committee that you not be my replacement when I retire next year."

Clayborne stood dumbfounded, unable to say a single word. He just got hit by Typhoon Nogura. Nogura's gaze remained even, "Dismissed."

Clayborne wisely kept silent. He turned and left. Nogura relaxed a bit once Clayborne left. If he could, he would have fired Clayborne on the spot, but that was up to the President. The President was in bed with Jameson, and Jameson had the President put Clayborne as second-in-command of Starfleet. Now, things were arranged for an ambassador of Jameson's picking to go with Jameson's lead sycophant in Starfleet to some previously unknown planet to negotiate a treaty of trade and relations, probably up to no good. One side of him was saying this is unwise, but another was saying that this concentration of corruption was at least at one spot, and thus could be monitored if not controlled. Nogura thought about Adama's message the other day, he agreed that Jameson is going after Starfleet and probably will try to use Captain Jacobs to accomplish that. Jameson could have been a good Romulan for all the court intrigue he is causing.

TURBOLIFT 4C

STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS

Clayborne flipped open his communicator and typed a quick message to Senator Jameson.

I'M HEADING TO MAGHREB AS DISCUSSED. NOGURA IS STARTING AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE LEAKS ABOUT TANGIA. I'M BEING DEPOSED PRIOR TO DEPARTURE.

SHUTTLE BAY

USS HURON

Captian Dan Hammel was watching as the last tug sat the second cargo pod down on the deck. As soon as it touched down, crewmen started securing it to the deck. Admiral Clayborne was standing nearby and unsure how to handle the orders. Hammel acted like there was no problem at all. Clayborne finally said, "Captain Hammel, just to make sure you understand, do not scan these containers."

"I understand sir, I see the diplomatic stickers, medical stickers, and your orders. They will not be scanned. They will get to Starbase 5 no problem." This cargo run should be an easy way to curry some favor with the Admiralty, especially with the #2 and rumored soon to be #1 Admiral.

"Very good Captain, thank you."

Hammel saw that the crewmen had completed the operation and decided to play nice host. "Sir, your cargo is secure. May I invite you and the Ambassador to the Captain's mess this evening for dinner? We have a good chef on board."

Clayborne liked being catered to. "Yes, thank you. We'll be there."

Hammel said, "And we'll be under way in one hour. I hope you enjoy your trip."

RAPTOR 1

ON APPROACH PLANET SQC-122 (4)

Jacobs was flying the Raptor doing a combat approach. This was the big event for the Badger candidates. Hell week finished with the Big swim. All the candidates were exhausted by sleep deprivation and exercises and stress induced by Bauer and the Lieutenants, and this was before the big swim. The basic plan was to drop the candidates offshore, they would swim to shore, infiltrate to a hut about a mile inland, rescue 'hostages,' then drag out the hostages while under fire back to the shoreline and swim offshore for pickup.

The brief was that they were going to be dropped about a half mile from shore, easily within sight of the shoreline. Bauer, like the first time, had changed the dropoff point to be more than two miles offshore.

Bauer was always looking for a way to reinforce teamwork, and in Hell week, he had exercises to see if the candidates would abandon the teamwork for personal gain. This time he took the advantage of having the whole crew aboard wanting to watch this. The Captain had approved, and the last few days the crew was talking about being able to see the big swim on the holoscreens all over the ship. It was going to be like watching the Olympics. Everybody was talking about who was going to be the winner of the exercise, the going favorite was Kenn, because he had done it training as a Badger before. Dr. Blake was also a favored contender because he had proven to be a terrific swimmer. The whole crew was watching the marathon about to begin. A recorded message started from Bauer, "Crew of the Wisconsin, welcome to the Big Swim. You all know what the exercise consists of, now to inform you that right away, I've instructed the Captain to drop off the candidates in the wrong spot. Their initial swim will be two miles from shore, it will be so far off shore that they will not be able to see the shoreline. The Badgers are trained to overcome adversity, plans rarely go well, they must be able to adapt. Welcome and enjoy the show."

Jacobs had a little bit of training going on for himself. The copilot for the day was Ensign Washburn. 'Wash' as he was known, had proven to be a good pilot and helmsman, but seemed a bit timid. Jacobs wanted to just try to push him a little and make sure that Wash could perform when needed. About 10,000 ft flying Mach 1.5 descending rapidly to the water, Jacobs took his hands off the controls and groaned, 'Uhnnnnhn.'

Wash instantly grabbed the controls and started pulling up, when Jacobs said, "Very good Wash, I'm fine, continue the drop off. I'm a simulated casualty."

Wash blinked, "But sir, what happened?"

"It doesn't matter, this is a simulated mission critical drop, you will complete the drop and start back to the ship, total delay time is three minutes. We are not talking about a shuttle ride for some VIP, but a rescue operation that is time critical. Too many people are counting on you finishing the job."

Washburn said, "I understand." Wash pushed the intercom button, "One minute thirty seconds to the drop."

Washburn continued the descent down. The aerodynamics used for a combat drop were simple, they were the same for a falling brick. Washburn adjusted the angle appropriately and at the proper time pulled hard up on the collective, firing the hovering thrusters and maximizing the anti-gravity field to slow down quickly. He timed it perfectly and they leveled off about thirty feet off the water at about fifty knots. Wash gently lowered and slowed the Raptor a little more. He announced, "Ten seconds!"

Bauer said, "UP!" and the four candidates stood up. "REMEMBER THAT THE OBJECTIVE TODAY IS FOR THE FOUR OF YOU TO RETURN WITH ALL FOUR HOSTAGES." Bauer was at the rear hatch, which was facing down and opened it up. There was a short slide down and under the Raptor. This would allow the candidate to slide out the bottom of the Raptor and between the hot engines safely.

Washburn was down to ten feet and about fifteen knots. The spot was perfect, "NOW NOW NOW!" and the candidates jumped through the hatch. The big swim had begun.

STARBASE OPERATIONS

STARBASE 5

Mitchell had just gotten back and took a shower just to feel clean again. The ride back from the ranch was quiet and uneventful, the old man seemed preoccupied by something. What could possibly be going on at some remote agricultural site on a world that was technically a colony, but did not have enough people to really qualify as a colony? The only reason why people were on this stupid rock was because of its strategic location to the Klingons, and that they could service starships here. His shower was long to get all that crop dusting grime off him. A Starfleet helmsman crop dusting, and they thought he had fun?

Just as he got out of the shower, the call came in to report to Operations as soon as possible, along with that goof Pell. The two walked in together and came to attention while Commander Willard walked up. "Your orders have changed. Excalibur is being held up and its tasking changed for VIP movement, so the two of you are shipping out to the Wisconsin on the Fearless. The Fearless leaves in six hours. Pack up and report to the transporter room in one hour. That is all. Dismissed." Willard handed the orders over on a datapad to Pell and Mitchell.

The two said in unison, "Aye aye, sir." And walked out the door. Once clear the two looked at each other.

Mitchell said, "It's your fault, you made too big of a deal with the Admiral, he thinks you are currying favor."

"That's not George, man. These things happen, just roll with it, Maverick."

Mitchell had a sarcastic, disgusted look come on his face. "What does that mean Pell?"

Pell could see the disdain, "What do you mean?"

"You keep saying 'George'. What does that mean?"

Pell smiled, "You know, 'George.' It's cool, man."

"Then just say, 'its cool'. Not 'George'."

Pell's smile broadened, "But it's more than that. Let's get going, it's not George for us to be late on transfer."