Posted by Captain Zachariah Cobb (Commanding Officer) in MPT - LS Intel Searches for a Trickster

Posted by Lieutenant Casela Synthi-er (Counsellor / RTF) in MPT - LS Intel Searches for a Trickster
OOC: This is open to anyone on Intel or S31. Or anyone who wants to assist. This is an Intel focused story though, just FYI. For timeline purposes this happens OUTSIDE of Sam’s thread.
IC:
It was a slow shift for Casela that morning. Sandman had wrecked havoc on the crew. Many were still in mourning for Blair, Potter, and Eugene. And many of the away team were still suffering the effects of the psychic trauma including herself. The Betazoid paracortex and had a remarkable ability to heal itself. Casela wasn’t sure that was going to happen this time. The lull in today’s appointments allowed Caseal to sit down and really read the reports that were coming in from her contacts.

Most of it was mundane. Accounts of traders and ‘businessmen’ that had been through the areas. Accounts of how economics were progressing, the ecological health of towns. Evaluations of policing forces and whether or not they were morale people. Occasionally Casela would smile as the reports would provide amusing stories about some of the people. It was all routine and simple, but she kept up with them all. Some of the reports were over a month old, having to take back channels to get routed to her. She got up for her 6th cup of coffee that day and returned to her desk. The last report had a strange tone to the writing. Which wasn’t normal. This report was always guaranteed to make her laugh. She continued reading to the end. Then setting down her cup she leaned forward, closer to the screen and read it again. She sat back contemplating it. After a moment she downloaded the message to a PaDD. She deleted the other transmissions. Let Hampton chew on that for awhile. More secret messages to the evil Counselor. She laughed and headed out the door.

“Watkins, I’ll be on the bridge. I’ll be back later. Page me if you need me.” Watkins nodded from her office as Casela left. She took the turbolift up to the CIC and looked around the bridge and seeing Cobb in his seat she nodded to him. “Cpt. I need to speak to you in your ready room.”
Lt. Synthi-er, CNS

Cobb hated quiet days like this, when the clicks and chirps of terminals and the quiet chatter of surrounding officers was insufficient to drown out his own, miserable thoughts. So the sight of the Counselor on the bridge was nothing short of a blessing. With an eagerness that he made no effort to hide, Zachariah leaped out of his chair with an “Aye, lass”, followed quickly over his shoulder, almost an afterthought, with, “McReady, you have the conn.”

And with that they entered his ready room, the captain not caring on the nature of the distraction but curious enough to ask all the same. “So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure then, Cas?”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

The slight smile that usually crossed Casela’s face these days at the nick name did not appear. Rather she looked more like the woman who had first come aboard: focused, purposeful, and serious. Not one to mince words, Casela got to the point. “I need a shuttle, and” she seems to second guess herself, “a team.”

She paces over to his desk and hands him the PaDD. “The report is about a month old. But what’s being described…seems abnormal.”. The events describe a series of events that at first appear to be practice jokes. What is odd is the complexity of them when the instigator appears to be children of very young ages. The last being a 2 year old orphan walking around the village with her mother, who died in child birth. “These children are…” And Zachariah would understand from her file.
Lt Synthi-er, CNS, always the suspicious.