### Personal Quarters – Deck Two ###
Lamont, free from his incarceration in the brig, paced his quarters which he had promptly destroyed in less than half an hour upon again arriving in the somewhat foreign environment having spent much of his free time as of late elsewhere. Dozens of padds lined his desk and the floor as well as several books and tomes containing fanciful calligraphy which were paper copies of elaborate treaties and other such documents.
Days had passed, seemingly without end within the brig, yet he had no time for pleasantries, hot food, or even a shower. The captain had given him an assignment that was quite possibly impossible. It amounted to a diplomatic suicide mission yet he could not fail her or the Charon. Too much was at stake. The safety and security of billions might very well be riding on decisions made in the coming hours or days. The stakes were astronomically high. If the Romulans and the Tal’Shiar were allowed to obtain the technology purported to be contained within a damaged Vulcan starship then war might indeed again be inevitable and perhaps this time impossible to win.
The peace could only be preserved by finding this ship and erasing its existence. With wolves close by and the scent of blood on the wind, Ian would have to use all his abilities to keep such beasts docile and tame long enough for the captain to perform her duty. Finding them was not the problem. If they were there as the captain suspected then they would show themselves at the proper time. And he would be ready for them.
Pacing around his living room his hands filled with padds, Lamont tossed another padd over his shoulder before finding one containing technical specifications he was looking for. With the Charon an exploration ship it had neither the firepower nor the lasting ability to combat a Romulan cruiser or perhaps multiple capital ships that could be stalking them. He had to find a way to even the odds. He needed leverage as well as several aces in this dangerous poker game if he were to have any chance of success. Words alone could not do what the captain needed.
Ian hated to lose. Worst of all he would never hear the end of it from Rehu as if they died he was sure there was a room assigned in purgatory or hell for him and the captain to spend an indeterminate amount of time together. He could think of no worse arrangement.
Suddenly an idea crept into his mind. It was so outlandish, radical, and devious it might just have some chance of success…that is if Rehu was willing to play along. Grabbing a cup of cold tea, Lamont gulped down the bitter liquid and grabbed a energy bar from an opened field ration kit he had laying about from a previous assignment. Filled with a sense of zeal and passion, Lamont headed for his door to investigate certain aspects of this idea. He needed information and quickly.
### Flight Deck ###
Lamont strode into the flight deck chewing a half eaten energy bar while carrying a multitude of padds. His unkempt appearance and haste made him look like a first year freshman at the Academy as he made his way past the ship’s compliment of shuttles and toward what was termed ‘pilot country’. Entering this domain was a first. He couldn’t remember having toured the barracks before, yet such thoughts faded as he was confronted by several stares from several pilots who were unsure of what to make of the new arrival.
Someone shouted attention and suddenly the pilots jumped to their feet though Lamont had no idea why. Then he realized he was for once in standard uniform which bore his naval rank of commander.
“At ease men”, he said swallowing down the last of his meal shoving the wrapper into his pocket. “I have some questions I need answered.”
“And you are…”, one of the pilots asked.
“Ship’s Ambassador, Ian Lamont.”
A round of snickers and mild laugher went round the room much to Lamont’s annoyance though he refrained from displaying any to avoid fueling these cocky pilot’s further.
“So how did you manage to escape the brig this time sir? A few of us had some bets going.”
Ian fought the intense urge to sour his expression and toss some rank down on these smart-ass pilots, but he needed their help and putting them in their place would not help him achieve his goals.
“Well if you must know”, he stated quietly. “Well I really shouldn’t say.”
“No, no. Please sir. You have to tell us! I have two strips of latnium riding on you!”
Lamont quietly played this little physiological game in the hopes of winning the pilot’s assistance rather than their disaffection or scorn. “Believe it or not, but I managed to convince the captain to release me in person!”
“Get outta here! I don’t believe that! Does anyone buy that?” Another round of laugher broke out among the pilots.
“Go talk to the marines on duty. They’ll tell you what happened and I am standing here before you am I not?”
The pilots, quiet now, all looked at each other with odd stares wary of the slippery ambassador.
“So what does an ambassador want with pilots? If you’re looking for a shuttle to steal to get away from the captain they are all out there on the flight deck.”
“Not shuttles. Fighters. I need to know about the fighters aboard.”
A pilot stepped from the crowd and leaned against a nearby wall. “What do you want to know about them”, he asked.
Ian gazed at the pilot for a time his face familiar. “You’re…Athalla correct. First name..Leon if memory serves?”
“Affirmative. Your memory appears quite sharp Ambassador. However forgive me for asking why you are interested in our fighter compliment?”
“I am working on an assignment of utmost importance. I cannot say more at this time. How many fighters are aboard and how many can be made ready for launch?”
“You planning on picking a fight with someone Ambassador”, one of the pilots shouted. “Perhaps take on the bridge?” A round of laughter filled the room.
“I might consider it. Another time perhaps. However, back to the question at hand. How many are ready for launch?”
“We have ten. They’re in storage given a science ship isn’t in the habit of picking fights”, Athalla said. “I suppose the deck crews could haul them out and have them all ready in roughly four to six hours if needed.”
“And how many pilots aboard are rated for combat operations in said fighters?”
Only a few raised their hands to Lamont’s disappointment.
“This isn’t a cruiser and most of the pilots aboard are rated on shuttles in addition to serving other duties when we’re not needed. Only a few of us have combat experience, but we could field all ten in an emergency. All of us are willing to strap ourselves in if the Charon or the mission required fighter support. Why are you asking us this?”
“I cannot comment”, Lamont responded dryly. “All I can say is that I am doing research and contingency planning.”
“What sort of contingency has our official man of peace aboard looking into our weapons systems?”
Lamont only smiled saying nothing more. “Please keep this conversation to yourselves gentlemen. I do not wish to make it an order. Our current mission may require your unique talents and gifts and the Charon may need to rely upon you sooner rather than later.”
“Alright Ambassador. We’ll keep our little chat quiet for now”, Athalla stated. “No offense sir, but don’t expect us to jump without orders from the bridge no matter the circumstances. Don’t get us wrong, we like you a lot sir, you have a tendency to keep morale high here in pilot country, however we take our orders from one place.”
“Well I am glad I provide you pilots with so much…entertainment value. As for orders, I would expect nothing less of any of you. I am not qualified to issue such orders and you would be well within your rights to refuse me. I simply needed information and you have provided such. Thank you all for your time.”
“Why don’t you stay Lamont? Have a few drinks, on us?”
Lamont flashed a brief smile. “I would enjoy that, but another time perhaps. I have several duties to attend to at the moment. If you will keep the offer open I will take you up on it sometime.”
“Suit yourself”, Athalla answered. “Good luck with..whatever it is you can’t talk about.”
Lamont nodded and left the pilots who immediately began whispering to one another as soon as he left.
“Hmm, ten Valkyrie class fighters, ten pilots, ten RIO’s to support the pilots and roughly 4-6 hours to assemble the squadron for duty.” He pondered the new information as he headed toward engineering to ask several questions of them. The elaborate ruse he had in mind required several moving parts all of which had to work perfectly. Giving the captain the window of time she required and perhaps more would require an intricate plan of masterful deception. He couldn’t buy her enough time with words alone. The ruse had to be bold, daring, and unexpected in order to knock the Romulan’s off guard and keep them distracted.
In addition to some smooth talking and a dash of luck Lamont still had to sell this zany idea to the captain. There were a few small details she would likely choke on, but if she wanted the impossible she would need to be willing to bend the rules and her pride for the mission at hand.
Setting of for engineering, Lamont made several notes. Some additional information in engineering would give him the final pieces needed to ascertain the feasibility of his ideas. If engineering could come through then perhaps the Charon could hold off a superior Romulan force through guile rather than brute force just long enough for Rehu to fulfill her own obligations to ship, crew, and duty. After that it would be up to her to save the Charon’s skin as Lamont would have played all of his cards. Hopefully the captain had a few cards of her own.
[ To Be Continued… ]
____________________________________
Ambassador Ian Lamont
Diplomatic Advisor (and resident devious type)
Lt. Leon Athalla
Pilot (apb Tav)
