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CTO Quarters - Message In A Bottle (Tag XO)

Posted Oct. 19, 2021, 3:01 p.m. by Lieutenant Commander Dr. Royal Sinclair (Chief Tactical Officer) (James Sinclair)

Posted by Commander Daniel “DaVinci” Colter (Executive Officer) in CTO Quarters - Message In A Bottle (Tag XO)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Dr. Royal Sinclair (Chief Tactical Officer) in CTO Quarters - Message In A Bottle (Tag XO)

Posted by Commander Daniel “DaVinci” Colter (Executive Officer) in CTO Quarters - Message In A Bottle (Tag XO)
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Since he was no longer a department head… or a Counselor…, Sinclair had moved everything out of the respective offices and it was all either in storage or in in small crates in the closet in his quarters. It was one of these crates that he pulled out late that night, looking for the… yes, there it was.

A small glass dome with a wooden base. Inside hung a medal… one few in the entire Federation had ever seen in person: The Star Fleet Medal Of Honor. It was given to him by a man who served with his Grandfather in the Star Fleet Marines. Royal held it for a few moments and then went to place it on a shelf when the glass slipped from his hands and fell to the floor, shattering. Royal cursed and bent down, inspecting the medal for damage. Seeing none, he breathed a sigh of relief and went to set the medal on the table near him when something in the medal shifted ever so slightly.

Royal looked at the medal closely with a puzzled expression. He had held it countless times before, but never noticed that the back was two separate pieces of metal. He looked closely and then slid the pieces against each other…

And the medal opened.

A small opening in the back slid open and inside sat an old optical disk. Royal took it out with a confused expression and then looked at his desk. He stood and went to it and inserted the disk in the reader. A moment passed in silence… and then a login screen appeared.

The Star Fleet Intelligence symbol rotated slowly in the background.

Sinclair stared at it for a moment and then tapped the comms. =/\= Sinclair to XO. Commander, I need to see you in my quarters immediately. =/\=

Sinclair, CTO

A reply came back almost immediately. =^=On my way, Commander.=^=

A few moments later, DaVinci rang the chime of Sinclair’s.

Stepping into the room, he inquired, ‘What’s, up, Doc?” (OOC: I’m sorry, I know it’s pld, but I couldn’t help myself!!)

Colter (XO/CIO)

OOC: If only you were chewing on a carrot! LOL

The room was set up like any standard DH quarters, but that is where the similarities ended. The place was filled wil models… ships of all sizes and kinds were set here and there, and every model hand seemed, to an eye trained for detail, to have been hand-made. There was apparently a current one being constructed: a Constitution-class. But all around the room were models of sailing ships, aircraft carriers, submarines, fighters, shuttles and all kinds of starships from all over the known galaxy.

DaVinci looked at the models, truly impressed with craftsmanship that went into their construction. He recognized many of the models as being naval vessels from his own time and even before. “Quite the collection, you got here.”

The large Scot stood by the desk with his arms crossed on his broad chest. “Commander, thank you for coming. I’ve come across… well.. a thing. Come look.” he said and ejected the old optical disk and handed it to him. “I found that sealed in a Medal of Honor that was given to me by a Marine that served with my grandfather. It’s old… and when I tried to access it I got a login screen… for Intelligence.”

Sinclair, CTO

The XO raised a Vulcan-like eyebrow as he inspected the disk. “How old did you say this was?”

“I didn’t, but it’s definitely older than any disk I’ve ever seen. I looked up the design while you were coming and it was phased out almost seventy years ago.”

“I would think something this old would be declassified by now, but still your security clearance probably isn’t high enough. Mine as the XO might not be either, buuuut, I’ve got pretty high Intel clearance. Let me give it a shot. . . .”

“Thanks. I didn’t know who else to call.”

He moved to Sinclair’s computer console and popped the disc into the slot. While waiting for the Intel insignia to appear, he commented, “I don’t ever remember hearing you say anything about your grandfather being in Intel.”

Colter (XO/CIO)

Sinclair chuckled and said “He wasn’t. He was a Marine. Gunnery Sergeant. Spent almost forty years in the Corps before he retired. And the medal, well… here.” and he slid the Medal of Honor across the table to Colter. “And unless I am mistaken, secret compartments are standard in those things. So I would have to imagine that whomever put it there wanted to make sure it was somewhere that wouldn’t get just thrown away after a time.”

“I’m going to have to check my own medals now. See if there are secret slots on those.”

It took the computer a moment to read the disc, but then the screen appeared and the swirling Intel logo showed on the screen… except it wasn’t the current icon. It was old… almost a hundred years.

Sinclair, CTO

“Wow,” Colter began. “Most definitely old. This insignia hasn’t been used in about at least 90, maybe 100 years. The plot thickens, my friend.

DaVinci cracked his knuckles and flexed his fingers before typing his Intel access codes. “Hopefully, I can get in, otherwise I’ll have to do some searching see if I need to break old codes. With this being that old, codes were much simpler, so with the advances in tech over the last 100 years, this shouldn’t be a problem. . . .’shouldn’t’ being the key word here. . . . “

Colter (XO/CIO)

Even with the advances in tech over the last 100 years, it was still difficult. Very difficult. But eventually… not impossible. Thirty minutes and the code finally gave way and out spilled a plethora of old documents, scans, After-Action reports, interviews, testimonials, and vid capture… all relating to something called ‘Operation Fair-Game’. And there was a lot of information. Almost six terabytes of it. Enough that it could potentially be everything related, even tangentially, to the operation.

Sinclair looked over Colter’s shoulder and let out a low whistle. “Thats… that’s a lot of information. I mean, I’ve only been privy to a few Intel files. But that seems rather… excessive… isn’t it?” he asked.

Sinclair


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