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Hello...is anyone listening?

Posted on Sat Mar 3rd, 2018 @ 2:56pm by Lieutenant Commander Bernadette Freise
Edited on on Thu May 31st, 2018 @ 9:39pm

Mission: Episode 2 - The Enemy Within
Location: Undisclosed location
Timeline: MD005 0745 hrs
Tags: SD 71381.0745



Bernadette couldn’t help but tap her foot. She had sent the message only a few minutes ago but the Bajoran was not known for being patient. She had transmitted the message using codes from almost a year ago. She had been out in the cold on her own for months. At one point she was certain that Stafleet would come looking for her once she hadn’t made contact but no one came. She did the one thing she could think of. She kept doing her job. Learning what she could.

Along with the message she had sent the response frequency for her transdermal cortical audio converter. It would receive the messages on the frequency she sent and translate them to text. She also had a cortical interface transmitter that allowed her to create messages to send via text that was activated by pressing a transdermal implant in her arm. It had been installed three years ago when she had been sent on this mission and other than the diagnostics she ran on it randomly it had never been used.

The Bajoran continued to watch the display in Ops showing the position of the fighters in relation to the Pioneer. She tapped her foot, waiting to hear if anyone would respond.

Joran sat in the dark at his desk in his office, the computer terminal illuminating his face as his eyes pierced the darkness around him. His fingers tapped at the computer, linking his artificial eye to the LCARS database. Though the tragedy of his love being killed was always with him, the loss of his right eye presented a unique opportunity to add a few features to his resume. The ability to wirelessly tap into the LCARS data network and use it in conjunction with the communication relays on the ship enabled him to literally think the words he wants transmitted, which are converted into text before sent via subspace to the destination.

At this time, he was attempting to contact the lost officer amidst the New Maquis. She had been lost for several months now and the rest of Starfleet were on the verge of giving up hope, with many assuming she’d changed her loyalties. He didn’t fault them, it was their job to be skeptical and predict the worst. He thought out a simple message to see if it was received. ”This is Viper. If you receive this, reply immediately.” He tapped his computer and sent out the message using the subspace communications relay on the Pioneer, beaming the message into space towards the probable location of the Maquis lurking out in space.

The implant her in her head and arm worked like a keyhole. Bernadette knew this. She knew that in order for anyone to communicate with her through it they had to know to look for her. She tapped her foot watching the Maquis ship maneuver with practiced ease through the Badlands. Three years she had been undercover and in three years she had never taken a Federation life. While she wasn’t one of the pilots she had executed the order and any lives lost were on her hands. A click sounded in her head, or a perceived sound as the voice of the cortical audio converter read out the message sent to her.

Her heart raced. She wasn’t ready. She was out of practice. “I’m here…” The message processed and sent before she really thought it over. She had panicked. She began to reformulate a message. “This is Shadow, One-One-Oscar-Jack. Ships in bound. Boarding imminent.” She listened to the confirmation click and now the ball was back in Viper’s court.

The reply message she spoke was directly transmitted into text and returned via the same subspace transmitter signal, arriving back at the Pioneer and received wirelessly back into his cortical implant, the text signal sent to the visual cortex where the words printed out in front of his vision. His eyebrows shot up as he didn’t expect a reply so soon. There were a number of reasons why he shouldn’t have expected to get a reply at all, to be honest. She could’ve been killed, moved elsewhere on another Maquis assignment or simply defected as many assumed.

He still had to be cautious, as that might still be the case. Trust had to be earned and right now he was playing a dangerous game. Her transmission did include the warning of an impending attack. That by itself wasn’t a confirmation of good faith. After all, that was an easy thing to say because the ship would detect the fighters in short order. He had to keep her talking. If she was still loyal to Starfleet, she was in great danger and needed an extraction. Her code was confirmed as authentic but that also didn’t mean much at the moment.

“Viper received. Authenticity verification code seven-one-seven-November-two. Confirm status.”

Bernadette cast looks around ops for a moment. Part of her couldn’t reconcile the fact that everyone around her couldn’t hear the words as they were being read out. She pressed the input in her arm and began recording. “Acknowledged. Alive, undiscovered for now.” She knew that they had to be trying to confirm that she was her and that she hadn’t turned. Three years, she had been in the field for three years with radio silence the last ten months. She wracked her brain before it occurred to her. “Modulate scanners to ten dot eight by thirty-seven dot 9. This will compensate for the interference of the Badlands. Please hurry.” With that she sent the message.

Joran started sending signals to the communications array directly, bypassing the “middle-man” ship procedures by shifting the signal modulation to the correct frequency to counteract the interference. After a few moments, he sent a message to the bridge to alert them of the impending attack before replying to Bernadette, “Modulation successful.”

The Bajoran had to suppress the urge to pump her fist and shout in relief. She didn’t know if it was going to make a difference but at least they knew it was coming. Tapping the input once more in her arm. “Acknowledged, starboard ventricle weakness known and planned to be exploited. Plan accordingly.” The chirp of confirmation rang out in her head as she looked at the display. The ship had less that three minutes before Ayala’s fighters would be on them and the cat and mouse game would begin. She just hoped she had done enough soon enough.


A Joint Post By

Bernadette Freise
Guest Star, USS Pioneer


Warrant Officer Joran Thal
Chief Intelligence Officer, USS Pioneer

 

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