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More Risk, More Reward... And More Complications

Posted Nov. 10, 2022, 10:23 p.m. by Civilian Kodek Vonn (Clandestine Associate) (James Sinclair)

It was completely quiet and pitch black. Inside the heavily customized space suit the Breen wore, Kodek Vonn waited.

The shuttle was not unlike any of the hundreds ferrying individuals and cargo back and forth from the orbital facilities above Oed V; a constant stream of the old and new going from hundreds of different vessels to the planet… to the platforms in orbit… or preparing for their departure. The vessel made several stops, loading and unloading, working its way across the space traffic that was Oed V.

An hour or so into its journey, it came within three kilometers of a truly impressive vessel: the USS Thresher, a Star Fleet Intelligence ship. The proximity wasn’t unexpected, indeed the shuttle wasn’t even the closest small vessel passing the Thresher at that moment. But, 7nlike any of the other shuttles and runabout, this one did have a singular difference.

That difference was small, well hidden compartment just large enough for a Breen in a heavily modified spacesuit to stand in. As the shuttle passed, a small iris opened on the underside of the ship and an almost invisible object was ejected out…

Kodek Vonn.

As soon as the flat black suit was exposed to the vacuum of space, the inside of the suit came to life. HID interface on the inside of the helmets black visor showed a trajectory and flight path towards the Thresher. Systems diagnostics scrolled past the eyes of the suits occupant and small thrusters of compressed gas oriented the lone figure to align with their desired course. A small ion engine on the suits back flared once and the figure shot forward, the gas thrusters moving the Breen this way and that as they sped to the vessel.

Inside the shuttle, a comm message was sent to a private communicator. “Now.” was all it said.

On the Thresher, a small alert activated. A known comm signal was in use. And the crew of the Thresher wanted that message, so they flew into action.

Less than two minutes after the message had been sent, the flat-black spacesuit-ed Breen activated the magnetic boots on the suits and slowly glided to land gently on the outer hull of the Thresher. They had landed mere steps away from a small, non-critical or classified object on the ship’s hull: an external communication jack used by repair technicians the galaxy over to communicate with crews on the inside during repairs. Useless unless someone was listening on the inside, and useless as a communications port to hack any signals going to or from the ship.

But it was useful as a door in which to slip an uninvited guest. That guest was a piece of code that was housed on an isolinear chip that Vonn deftly and deliberately slid into the dormant chip reader next to the communications port. The program powered up the port for a split second and then slid its way into the communications network, then the security system, and then the Computer Core. It didn’t cause an alarm, because it wasn’t there to stop or hinder the investigation of the comm signal causing such a stir in anyway, or even cause damage. It simply gathered all files created over the past 2 weeks, copied them, and packaged them up in a nice little bow. The code then moved the duplicate files to the comm system and waited… all in under ten seconds.

Vonn, however, did not wait. As soon as the chip had been inserted, the Breen counted to five and pulled the chip and threw it off into space. The mag-boots were deactivated and the Breen pushed off the Thresher and drifted away, the suit making them appear as nothing more than a bit of debris to scanners.

Vonn drifted for over an hour. In that time, a comm had gone to the surface of the planet. Along with the encrypted message was a single burst transmission. That was flagged in the comm logs of the Thresher, but the crew was preoccupied and the notification sat. The burst of data went to the 19th Precinct of the Oed Police, and the desk of one Sergeant Mendo. The good Sergeant popped in an optical disk, pulled the data, and dropped the disk in his pocket. He then went to lunch and the computer station in his desk suddenly went blank.

Mendo walked across the street and bought a sandwich from a food truck. The disk was put into a napkin and wadded up. Mendo asked the Vulcan in the truck if she would throw something away for him. She took the napkin and gave Mendo his sandwich.

Far above the beginnings of the convoluted journey the chip was embarking on, Vonn drifted over six kilometers before a luxury yacht experienced a small mechanical issue with their pool and had to stop… right next to Vonn. Ten minutes later, the Breen was encased in their regular armor and visored helmet; and they were on their way back to the surface.

Vonn, CIA


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