USS Healy
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Pulling a Few Strings

Posted on 16 Jan 2021 @ 13:31 by Commander Eneas Clio & Admiral Benjamin Bahe

Mission: Prologue: Just Like Planned
Location: Subspace Communication
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 1000

"I hope it's not too early to be bothering you, Clio," Bahe grinned, as she answered his call. It had been years since the two saw each other or even communicated. They'd served together multiple times in the past both aboard his command and in other places within the Special Operations and Intelligence communities. He had been an Engineer that converted to Command and then through missions that landed in his lap moved into that special community and stayed there as he became a flag officer.

Having run from one of the corrals to the house when one of the ranch staff told her she had a call from Starfleet, Clio took a moment to catch her breath and brush her hair back from her eyes. The face on the screen certainly wasn't someone she'd expected to see, but she grinned anyway. "Bejamin Bahe, you know damn well I get up before sunrise. I was out with the horses, or I'd have answered sooner." She paused to gather what context she could from the use of an official frequency and visual cues. And the fact that he'd gone out of his way to find her, since she hadn't notified Starfleet of her new contact details when she moved to the ranch. But Bahe was a crafty fellow and had multiple tricks up his sleeves. "I take it this isn't a social call."

“Not in the slightest,” he said. “I imagine you’ve been following the problems with the Romulans since the break up of the confederation?” He asked, the image broke up a bit and the noise that accompanied it was just verification that there conversation was completely secure.

"Well, considering my only remaining family lives in the Beta quadrant and has regular dealings with the Romulans... yes." Now why would he ask that question, Clio wondered. Certainly no one in Starfleet actually cared about a civilian keeping track of such things. A few pieces of the puzzle started to click into place, and she narrowed her eyes a bit. "What the hell are you up to, Ben?"

“The Healy,” he said. “I’ve managed to get it under my grasps again. And in the guise of Fifth Fleet operations,” he smirked. He was fully aware she’d know exactly what that meant mission wise.

“Needs an Executive Officer and Chief Intelligence Officer,” he explained.

"And you're telling me this because...?" Despite her very neutral tone, Clio couldn't help being just a tiny bit intrigued. She'd briefly joined the Healy's crew a time or two, and she'd always been a bit partial to the Insignia-class. Plus with the hints Bahe kept dropping, she had a pretty good idea where this was going. "You know they barred me from field work, and that's why I stayed at the Academy so long before I retired." Oh, she was interested, but she was going to make him work for it.

“Well as luck would have it you have an old friend who can pull strings,” Bahe said. “You might be a captain one day after all,” he teased. “How does Executive Officer of Healy sound?”

Clio raised an eyebrow at him, considering the offer. It would mean leaving the ranch for an undetermined time, but surely they could figure something out. "You're not worried I've forgotten how to do that? I mean, it has been a long time." Having a friend in the brass was definitely unusual for her, and she had to admit it was kind of nice. There weren't any other admirals she could have this sort of conversation with. And the promise of getting back in the field... "I'll do it, but I'll need to find someone to take care of the ranch and feed the critters. It's just my critters, but I've got four horses here and one of the Anatolians just had a litter of pups. I mean, I have some ranch hands, but none of them can be here early enough for feeding time."

“Well, you forgetting how to run a bridge seems like a problem for the Captain,” he shrugged. “I’m sure the intelligence side you’ll be fine. It’s like riding a bike, I figured it out,” he shrugged. “As for the critters I’m sure I can find a non-rate who likes horses and Anatolians,” he said, seriously. Though he wondered what an Anatolian even was.

Well, she hadn't expected that. The offer left her wordless for just a moment. She wasn't sure if it was a bribe or if Starfleet really needed the help so badly they'd do anything to get some of their retired officers back into the field. "Well. The dogs are a bit territorial, but I've socialized them well so that should work." And a member of Starfleet would know how to contact her on the Healy if they needed any help. "All right, I'll pack a bag and see if my replicator has a uniform pattern. Just one more question... what's the current policy on pets on Starships?"

“Well, I think it’s up to the Captain. I’d say pick your favorite and it maybe not be a horse or something that’ll eat a non-rate,” he shrugged. “When you arrive if someone asks questions drop my name and say it was part of the deal.”

A horse on a starship. Clio giggled at the thought, and that giggle turned into a cackle as Bahe suggested making sure the pet wouldn't eat anyone. "I don't think my cat likes the taste of non-rates," she answered as seriously as possible once she'd gained her composure. "I'll bring her with me. If anyone objects, I'll send her home. And I guess I better go pack so unless you've got something else to discuss I'll let you get back to your duties."

“Meet the ship at Starbase Ten, they just arrived yesterday and will be switching out some modules. Let me know when you’ve arrived,” he said. “Thanks Clio.”

"Be there as quick as I can. And you're welcome. Sir." With a nod and another quick smile, Clio closed the communications channel and scurried off. She had a lot to do and not much time to do it.


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