ON: [[Bridge, USS Minoru, 1245 MD-1]]

Starfleet had a long history of regulations that prevented a starship's commanding officer from gallivanting off with away teams, on the theory that they were rather difficult to replace, particularly in a crisis situation, and that their deaths provoked a disproportionate amount of bureaucratic problems. Starfleet also had a long history of COs blatantly ignoring those regulations, for reasons that Ash was rapidly coming to understand. Sitting in orbit with no idea of what was going on was easily one of the most aggravating experiences he'd ever gone through. Granted, it wasn't much different than being in engineering while someone shot at the ship, but there he could keep his hands busy without looking silly.

"Signal from the landing party," the tactical officer reported. "Commander Anderson is beaming back aboard, sir."

"Finally," Ash said, all but jumping from his chair. "Have the transporter chief direct him to my ready room for debriefing. Lieutenant Commander, you have the bridge."

He went into the ready room and sat down at his desk, then took a few deep breaths. He wanted to appear calm. Captainly. Not a caffeine-addled maniac.

Mark hadn't been the least bit surprised when the transporter chief had informed him that the captain wished to speak with him immediately. Away mission restrictions were one of the few things that he did not envy the commanding officer of any starship or station. It was well known, especially amongst executive officers, that the commanding officer was to accompany as few away missions as possible...preferably none. At the same time, Mark understood that the captain was just as much a Starfleet officer as the rest of them. There was no doubt in his mind that being restricted to the ship while others were out exploring or investigating a situation must have seemed constrictive and distancing.

Emerging from the turbolift, Mark nodded once to the officer on duty before turning and making his way across the bridge. He approached the doors to the captain's ready room and pressed the door chime to signal his arrival.

"Come in," Ash said. He gestured for Anderson to take a seat and asked, "Find any Romulan invasion force? Marauding space pirates? Anything at all?"

"No...no Romulan invasion force, no marauding pirates," Mark replied as he took the offered seat, "Come to think of it, there really doesn't seem to be any visible rationale for the distress call we received."

Ash frowned slightly. "I'm guessing that its not just a malfunction, though."

"Well, that's where it get's interesting," Mark said, "Ordinarily, I'd say that a visit from an archaeological wouldn't be something worth getting all worked up about, but these people seem to be genuinely upset over it. They seem to believe that the archaeological team presents some sort of threat to the colony. In fact, there are some amongst them who believe that it was the archaeologists that sent the message to frame the colony."

"That... seems like a remarkably petty thing to do," Ash said. "What would be the point? It'd earn the colonial leaders a harsh lecture about sending false emergency signals." He paused a moment, thinking about his own home, then conceded, "But then, petty hardly means impossible. Did you look into the claim?"

Mark nodded slowly. "We found one isolinear chip that appeared to have been reprogrammed," he replied, placing the chip on the captain's desk as he spoke, "It seems as if someone knew the colony's communications system well enough to enter the building, plant this chip, and get out without being detected. In fact, the colonial administrators were telling us the truth when they said they didn't realize the message had been sent until we arrived."

Ash picked the chip up and studied it. "It looks like a non-standard size to me, not something you'd find in spare parts on a civilian ship. Have someone do a molecular analysis and check for isotope ratios and replication patterns. It might tell us where it came from, which would at least narrow down the suspect list and give us a little leverage with whomever made it." He put the chip back down. "Did they say why a few scientists dropping in is such a problem?"

Thinking back to what Anselm (NPC) had told him about the current situation, Mark did his best to summarize the concerns as he had heard them. "They are extremely suspicious of the archaeology team," he explained, "One of the colony administrators mentioned that the archaeologists were planning on bringing a lawsuit against the colony for restricting their operations. For all intents and purposes, I would have to say that the colonists seem to be viewing the scientists as intruders on their way of life. They definitely do not like having them around...but you're right, it doesn't seem to be adding up."

"I suppose you don't move all the way out to the edge of known space if you get along with the rest of society. Then again, it might not just be a matter of outraged sensibilities," Ash said. He shook his head ruefully. "We need to find out more before making any judgments. We're not that far off our planned route and we can watch this part of space just as well from here as anywhere else. We'll remain in orbit for a few days and see what we can turn up. If nothing does, then it becomes a circuit judge's problem."

Mark knew that they wouldn't be able to stick around indefinitely and that they would need to determine the cause of this conflict or hand over jurisdiction to the circuit judge. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel as if there was some part of the picture they were missing. He hadn't had the opportunity to check in with the other team members yet, but even with the limited encounter he had experienced, he wasn't ready to write this off as a simple misunderstanding or desire to remain isolated.

"I'd like to see what the other members of the team come up with," he said, "I have a feeling that we're going to end up with more questions than answers."

"Well, I remember my philosophy of science professor telling me that for every answer you discover, you end up with two more questions," Ash said. "Granted, I think he was talking about the deep 'meaning of life' sort of thing, not local politics, but that's life for you. We'll hear what the other away team members turn up, talk with the leaders some more, and maybe turn the science department loose to see if there's a biological cause - pollen, disease, the usual. If nothing else, this will be a good practical exercise for everyone."

"Agreed," Mark replied. It seemed as if his briefing with the captain was coming to a close and, despite that he was now back aboard the Minoru, he still had members of his team on the surface that he was to be coordinating. "Will that be all, sir," he asked.

"It is. Keep tabs on the away team and start digging into our databanks to see if we have any information that might be useful, and let me know if anything unusual turns up. Dismissed."

Rising from his chair, Mark nodded once in affirmation of the captain's orders before starting for the door. The captain seemed to have things on the bridge well-enough under control, which meant that Mark didn't need to be immediately on hand at the moment. He decided that it might be easier for him to do his research and analysis from his own office...or perhaps one of the labs. Entering the turbolift, he took one last look at the image of the planet on the viewscreen before the doors closed and he felt the turbolift car begin to descend.

Ash returned to the bridge and settled back into his chair, considerably more at ease. Still... no reason to be too confident in their safety. It would be best to maintain a ready posture for a few more hours, at least until the end of the shift. He pushed a key on his chair arm. "All hands, this is the captain. Stand down to yellow alert."

OFF

A JP by

Commander Ashton Griffith
Commanding Officer
USS Minoru

and