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Police Chief's Office - Getting New Orders (TAG XO)

Posted Oct. 22, 2018, 3:08 p.m. by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Station Police Chief) (James Sinclair)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Omni (2 of 13) (Executive Officer) in Police Chief’s Office - Getting New Orders (TAG XO)

Posted by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Station Police Chief) in Police Chief’s Office - Getting New Orders (TAG XO)

Posted by Captain Michael Stout (CO) in Police Chief’s Office - Getting New Orders (TAG XO)
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
As the old Marine sat behind his desk, his comms chirped. =/\=Command Deck to Chief of Police. You have an incoming transmission from Earth. =/\= came the voice of the Ensign assigned to station communications.

=/\=Patch it through.=/\= came the gruff response.

“What now?” he grumbled to himself as he waited for the call to come in.

Pikelsimer, CoP

A face Pikelsimer hadn’t seen in quite some time came into view. She looked at the screen, held up one finger, and the screen flickered and then stabilized. “There. Now we have some privacy.” came a sultry voice and a smile. “How are you doing, Micah?” Pikelsimer looked at the face, and he could feel his heart beat quicken. “Mase. I’m good. How are you? Didn’t think I would be hearing from you.”

“Oh? And why is that? Maybe because I asked you to marry me and you said no?” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Micah, that was five years ago. And Drake and I quite happy. You remember Drake?” she asked innocently.

The frown on Pikelsimer’s face spoke volumes. “Yep. I remember him.” was all the grizzled Marine said in reply. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, broken by the woman on the other end of the line.

“Well.” she said said and looked away a moment. “That was about as much fun as I thought it would be.” she said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “You just have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Me?” came a quick and loud response from the Police Chief. “Hun, you might to take a breath and reevaluate the circumstances here. YOU called ME. I had exactly piss and all to do with this.”

The woman on the other end jabbed a finger at the screen. “Just like you to try and make this my fault, you old cyborg!” she said, a shrillness creeping into her voice that probably wasn’t intended.

“Maybe in the past, sure. But THIS time? This is all you, baby.” he said, his metal hand clenching into a fist.

DON’T you ‘baby’ me, you ass! You gave up the right to call me that when you left!”

Pikelsimer actually stood up and yelled at the screen. “LEFT? The Agency sent me to Vulcan for three months and when I came back you and ‘Drake‘ were all lovey-dovey! And don’t give me any bull about how you pined away for me. I’m a Federation Security Agent. I checked. You two were and item two weeks after I left.”

“Really?” she replied with the same standing and yelling. “You are FedSec? Oh, wow. I didn’t know. Except that I am your freakin’ BOSS, you hard-headed jackass! And I proposed, you said no, and then hopped on a transport the next day! You didn’t even say goodbye!”

YOU KNEW I WAS LEAVING! YOU SENT ME! And I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t think it WAS goodbye! I was just going on assignment. I thought we could talk it through, but noooooo… you had to hop in the sack with ‘drake’ a week after I was gone!” he yelled, his face turning red and the veins in his forehead throbbing. Then suddenly, he just collapsed back into his chair. Mase was silent, her mouth hanging slightly open, a look of confusion and shock on her face. “But… I thought…”

Pikelsimer grunted out a soft dismissive chuckle. “No, Mase. You didn’t. You did like you normally do… you reacted without all the facts. You went with your gut and, like I always told you, your gut is pretty f-ing stupid. You should use your head more.” he said with a look out the window. Pikelsimer was a hard man, but there was one point that would always be a chink in his otherwise impregnable armor… Mase Conrad, Assistant Director. Federation Security Covert Operations.

Shaking his head, Pikelsimer forced himself to look at the screen. “What do you want, Mase? I’m on assignment from the Director. So he must have told you where I was. Why call?”

Mase shook her head and said “Oh my god. You don’t know, do you?” Pikelsimer’s face clouded and he leaned closer to the screen. “What, Mase? What’s happened?” Mase’s hard exterior cracked for a moment, and a single tear fell from her eye. “Denoub.” she said softly, saying the name of the Director of Federation Security and one of Pikelsimer’s closest friends. “He was killed two days ago. Poisoned. We suspect it was internal to the Federation. Maybe Star Fleet, because that is who he had been meeting with.” She tapped some commands off screen and said “Sent you the file. We think it may have something to do with Star Fleet’s Inspector General. And I saw he was heading your way. Look into it, Gunny. And if you find any definitive proof of treason… proof that will hold up in court, Micah…” she stressed, “… then I want you to deal with it. Permanently.” Pikelsimer looked at her, stunned and hurt. But her words came through the wave of memories and loss that had washed over Pikelsimer, and he found his focus. “Mase, I can only take an order like that from Den-… from the Director. Who is taking over for him?” Another long pause and Mase said “I’m acting Director until the new appointee is named. So… you have your orders. We clear, Agent?”

“Crystal, Ma’am. I’m on it. Send my kit, will you?” he said flatly. “Already on it’s way. Only ship headed there was the Interror. It’s on there, labeled ‘Personal Effects’ for you. Had to sell it, so it’s everything I had of yours left in my apartment.” Pikelsimer didn’t visibly, but knowing she still had some of his things five years on left a lump in his throat. “Copy. Anything else?” Mase shook her head. “No. But be careful. Whoever got to Denoub is crafty. We never saw it coming.” she replied. “Roger that. I’ve got rounds to make. I’ll send updates every seventy-two hours station time. Copy confirm.” he said, all business. “Confirmed, Agent. Ops out.” and the screen cut off.

Pikelsimer leaned back in his chair, his hands clenched into fists. “I’ll find ‘em, my friend. Promise.” he said to the newest ghost to haunt his dreams…

Pikelsimer, Police Chief

After a few minutes, Pikelsimer tapped the comms. =/\= CHief of Police to Station XO. Please come to my office ASAP. =/\=

Pikelsimer, PC

OOC: Not going to lie, that was fascinating to read!

IC:
=^=Understood, Chief. On my way.=^=

As usual, the response was expressionless and curt, a matter of disposition for the idiosyncratic woman who held position as the XO of this equally peculiar station. A single thought crossed her mind upon his request to join him in his office, but she did not choose to verbally voice the single sentence of: ’What happened?’ There seemed no use to wonder this aloud, knowing the Chief was not exactly a man of publication to anyone beyond the person he requested to speak with.

Ever since their last meeting, she had begun to view the Police Chief in an alternative light, seeing his once arrogance as a confidence that led towards his viability in the work force. He was brash and unadulterated, at times, but that expressed a deadpan honesty about the man, which a vast majority of the people in Starfleet did not possess. Thus, it was not only a difference the ex-Borg could bind relation to, but also a quality worthy of consideration and reverence for his perhaps chaotic method of organization in his work.

Rounding the corner, the click of her boots offered an omninous air to the near silence of the hallway, only a few people joining her in the cacophony of noises that soon became a composition of the base, if only for a few seconds. Her feet, now recalling the path to his office, did not bother stopping; offering a nod of acknowledgement to anyone who cast a glance her way, she did not speak, better yet, offer much expression to them, unless they were endeavoring something imbecilic or inappropriate.

Once standing vertical to the door, she rose a willowy hand to the chime, its slightly discolored pigmentation a perhaps characteristic notion of her inhuman nature. Silently, she waited.

Lt. Cmdr. Omni

“Yeah, yeah. Come in!” came the familiar gruff voice from behind the door and it slid open.

Without a response, Omni stepped into the room, making her way to where he happened to be seated.

Seated behind the desk, Pikelsimer looked up at the XO and, without taking eyes off of her, reached down and brought up a PaDD and tossed it across the table. “Transcript of a transmission I just got. Ignore the personal drama and pay attention to the end. We have a problem.”

Pikelsimer, PC

“Very well,” Omni nodded, retrieving the PaDD. Instead of bothering to sit down, she chose to run over what the transcript happened to be conveying. Drama was never an issue, as it could have been easily ignored, she was more focused in the indication of possible issues.

Lt. Cmdr. Omni
XO

Pikelsimer watched the woman as she took in the communication. “So. What are your thoughts, Commander?”

Pikelsimer, Police Chief

“Treachery?” Omni inquired, raising an eyebrow over at the man, as she considered what she had just heard, ebbing away at the drama to leave behind strictly what needed to be known: the heart of the issue. “It seems as if whoever killed this man wasn’t a fool. Either they had inside information, or were working on the inside. After all, it is expectionally difficult to kill someone of such a rank, without having at least the faintest bit of knowledge about him or his whereabouts.” Omni agreed to the idea of treason, “I would assume you’re going to start by looking into those closest to the director?”

Omni
XO

“Waiting on the file with his last month’s agenda. Cross referencing with anyone listed as on board the Interror. I’ll have a suspect list if anyone pings. If not, I’m gonna have the CMO and CSO go over the autopsy report… name redacted, of course. Not like they’d know him anyway, but just to be safe. See if anything comes from there. Speaking of which… I may need you to give them a nudge with helping me, if you don’t mind. And…” and he looked down and shook his head and then said “… if you want to let the Skipper know what’s happening, I’m ok with it. Potential assassin on board might be something he’d want a head’s up on. Just keep the particulars to yourself, if you can.”

Pikelsimer, Police Chief


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