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Lt.Cdr. Arturo Maxwell - Hidden Allies (McLaren)

2020-05-14 02:08:35


((Chief Tactical Office - Starbase 118.))

So, it turned out that the USS Bastille had escorted away a prison transpor=
t that didn't actually contain it's high-profile passenger after all. It wa=
s a simple trick, and yet it seemed to have worked. As Max was soon to find=

Maxwell: So, what information do you have? I'm presuming that I've already =
been cleared tae see it, with you being here and all?

McLaren produced a PADD, holding it up.

McLaren: It is rather sensitive.

Maxwell: Soon see tae that.

Max leaned over his desk, tapping on it's built in keyboard.

Computer: Privacy field engaged. Door sealed. External data and communicati=
ons disabled. This office is now Black Two. Please enter command authorisat=
ion to disengage this protocol.

McLaren raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed.

McLaren: Where'd this come from?

Maxwell: Had it installed a wee while back. Was a gift frae a friend during=
all that business after Chennel. ::He wandered back to the replicator.:: S=
o, shall we get tae business?

McLaren: Very nice. :: She smiled. :: This information needs to stay out of=
the computers. The only other people on this base with a copy of it right =
now are the Captain, and myself.

Maxwell: Aye, let's do that. External source?

Max took his seat, sipping his drink before putting the mug down. He glance=
d for a brief moment at the tiny chip in the edge of the desks lacquered su=
rface where he'd dropped a mug a few days ago during a call from his sister=

McLaren: No the source of this information will be long gone from this base=
by the time anyone outside of us three know about it.

McLaren slid the PADD across the desk towards him. So the source of the inf=
ormation was here, somewhere. He scratched thoughtfully at his beard with o=
ne hand, as his lifted the PADD with his other and thumbed the screen to li=
fe. Almost immediately he raised an eyebrow at the data it displayed.

Maxwell: Okay ::He paused, looking up and giving a lop-sided smirk.:: throw=
us a bone, aye?

McLaren nodded, sitting back.

McLaren: Its a list of names of some very powerful people in both the Feder=
ation and Starfleet with ties to the cult. My source says theyre also the p=
eople Kinney was trying to take down.

Maxwell: Starship captains, admirals, governors.

Max waved a single finger like a conductor as he read before halting and le=
tting out a low whistle.

Maxwell: Hell, there's even bloody Federation Councillors on this list!

McLaren shrugged.

McLaren: I dont know how he'll react when he hears who we're going after, b=
ut hopefully he'll see the wisdom in helping us.

Max wasn't entirely sure about that. Unless they could convince Kinney it w=
as his idea all along.

Maxwell: How do you want tae handle this?

McLaren: Im gonna leave the specifics of how you want to handle the intervi=
ew to you... but any deals you offer Kinney will need to be cleared by the =

Maxwell: Fair. ::He nodded.:: No matter what we put on the table tae tempt =
him, he needs tae believe it's all his idea. Kinney may no be egotistical a=
s such, but he still has one.

McLaren: ?

Max nodded as he put the PADD down.

Maxwell: I'm one ae his hidden supporters on the station. ::A grin.:: So he=

McLaren: ?

Maxwell: Might be easier tae reel him in, but it'll still no be a picnic.

McLaren: ?

Sitting back fully in his chair, Max chewed at the inside of his mouth thou=



Lt-Commander Arturo Maxwell.

Chief Tactical Officer.

Starbase 118 Operations.


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