Anyone Call An Uber?
Posted on Wed Nov 19th, 2025 @ 7:23am by Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trellis & Petty Officer 2nd Class Sofia Cipriani & Commander Rhupert Tyree
Edited on on Wed Nov 19th, 2025 @ 10:36am
2,088 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: Quatral Prime, Beta Quadrant.
Timeline: MD001 1230 hrs
The handshake from the incoming runabouts comm system lit up Adelaide’s comm’s suite and Rhu fed back specifics for the rendezvous, including the approach which would limit the crafts time in system. The Cardassians would still take notice of it as they were likely keeping closer tabs, but it couldn’t be helped. Rhu had changed from a ship suit to a dark black on black business suit. He had a bag over one shoulder and his ak’ai was in a pocket. He doubted he’d need a weapon, so he mostly only went armed with his good looks and charm.
Mostly.
With one last look around the Adelaide’s transporter room, he turned his attention to the display screen and watched as the intel plug-in within the comm’s suite reached out with the IFF handshake, was suitably recognized. Once the runabout loGret hove to, Rhu focused the signals laser and said, “This is Commander Tyree. One to beam up.”
[IoGet]
The console chimed softly, and attention immediately shifted to the incoming communication. A handshake request—rendezvous coordinates, presumably. He'd been wondering when they'd get specific information about their actual destination.
"Looks like we have our coordinates," Lieutenant Trellis' said, his hands moving across the helm controls as he pulled up the rendezvous specifications. His eyes scanned the approach vector, noting the efficiency of the route—designed to minimize their time in-system. Someone wanted this meeting to be quick and discreet.
"Receiving approach vectors now," Lieutenant Trellis' reported, more to fill the silence than because Nyx needed a play-by-play. His fingers danced across the navigation console—not Percy, despite her suggestion—inputting the coordinates and adjusting their course accordingly.
Nyx leaned forward in the co-pilot’s chair as the console chimed, the blue-green of her eyes flicking between displays. “So this is the part where we don’t explode. Always my favourite part,” she said lightly, though her hands were already moving over auxiliary systems, syncing the runabout’s stealth protocols to the approach vector.
The ship’s hum dropped to a whisper. Hull polarity shifted, sensor echo faded. She watched the readings level off, then sat back with a satisfied grin. “Running dark. Not even a gossiping Ferengi could pick us up now.”
She glanced sideways at Galen, one boot propped against the console leg. “You ever notice how the universe only goes quiet right before the weird part starts? Just sayin’.”
When the directed comm laser pinged their system, Nyx’s grin widened. “Well, look at that—company. Guess this is where we earn the secret handshake.”
She toggled the beam routing. “Channel locked. Commander Tyree, right? Man with the teashop name?” Her tone softened just enough to thread professionalism under the mischief. “Runabout loGret, one to beam up—coordinates received and standing by.”
She flicked a final switch, muttering under her breath as the transporter hummed to life. “Alright, Rhupert Earl Grey, let’s see what kinda crazy you’re pouring today.”
A Commander... Galen thought to himself. That certain changed the calculus of the entire operation.
He glanced at Nyx, noting how quickly she'd synced the stealth protocols without being asked—professional work, executed with practiced ease.
Rhu felt the familiar yet still unsettling grasp of the transporter as he was plucked from Adelaide's transporter pad to an even smaller one aboard a Fleet runabout. Glancing about, he caught sight of two ensigns, wait. An Ensign and a JG, he ammended mentally, regarding him and his mouth quirked slightly, "Permission to come aboard."
"Commander Tyree," Trellis said with a crisp nod. "Welcome aboard the loGret. I'm Lieutenant Trellis. We'll have you underway momentarily." He kept his voice professional, respectful of rank, and deliberately free of questions. Whatever operation this was, he was clearly just the driver.
"Right," Rhu said, "That would make you Ms. Calder. This is very unorthodox, I understand but welcome aboard the Valiant. And in this particular instance, aboard the freighter SS. Adelaide. Right now the rest of the command staff is involved in a attempting to help the colony here with a medical issue that's making them sick. You'll be assuming my caretaker duties aboard the Adelaide, though without having her completely turned over to your command. Support the away team as best you can and report to the XO as soon as she returns aboard."
"Any questions?," Rhu asked meeting Calder's eyes before he added, "We have a moment, but I also don't want to have the loGretin system any longer than necessary given there is a Cardassian Gil monitoring things from afar, supposedly."
Lieutenant Trellis' expression remained neutral as Commander Tyree explained the situation. But internally, pieces were clicking into place—and he didn't like the picture they were forming.
The Valiant. The freighter SS Adelaide. A medical crisis on a colony. An away team. And somewhere out there, a Cardassian Gil watching everything.
Being monitored by a Cardassian.
Dorian's instincts flared hot and immediate—the Marine's memories of being hunted during covert operations on Betazed, of Cardassian surveillance networks tracking resistance movements, of never being able to trust that you weren't being watched by the enemy. Galen forced the reaction down, but he couldn't quite suppress the tension that crept into his shoulders.
"Sir," Galen said carefully, his tone professional but edged with concern, "just to clarify—we're operating under observation by Cardassian military intelligence while conducting what sounds like a classified handoff of command responsibilities for a civilian freighter?"
He didn't phrase it as a complaint, exactly, but the question hung in the air. This wasn't a simple taxi run anymore. This was an operation with moving parts he didn't understand, involving ships he'd never heard of, personnel he didn't know, and—most troubling—a Cardassian officer monitoring their activities.
"I'm not questioning your orders, Commander," Galen added quickly, "but I'd appreciate understanding what I'm flying into. If there's a Cardassian watching us, I need to know if that's expected surveillance or if we're operating in potentially hostile territory. It affects flight protocols and emergency procedures."
Shifting his eyes to the Trill, Rhu said "Well I'm glad you cleared up that you weren't questioning orders, Lieutenant. I only know that this is Cardassian space and I was warned off, fairly typically, by a Cardassian Gil. Now if she claims any sort of intelligence, I can't really say. Nor am I overly worried about it. Since this mission is need to know, you unfortunately are only going to get crumbs. All of which you are to compartmentalize and keep absolutely to yourself unless otherwise cleared to share through code-word clearance."
Then Rhu smiled, "Just as unfortunately, that code word you also do not have enough of a clearance to know. I'll give you enough of a story to use that will get you past any curious inquiries. Besides, you'll be safer not knowing." Rhu felt some back pressure in his mind from the two junior officers, which was normal. He also didn't need telepathy to see the JG get his hackles up at the mention of Cardassians.
Galen felt the familiar weight of frustration settle in his chest, but he forced it down with the practiced discipline of someone who'd learned—the hard way—that some battles weren't worth fighting.
Compartmentalization. Need-to-know basis. Operational security. It was all perfectly standard intelligence protocol. Everything Dorian's memories recognized from working with classified Marine operations during the war. Everything Galen had encountered enough times in his short Starfleet career to know that pushing for answers would get him nowhere.
He was the driver. Nothing more. And Commander Tyree had made that abundantly clear.
"Aye, sir" Lieutenant Trellis said as he turned his attention back to the helm, fingers moving across the controls with mechanical precision. The loGret hummed quietly around them, oblivious to the uncomfortable conversation taking place in its small cockpit. He was a Lieutenant JG. This was clearly an intelligence operation. And no amount of questions or concerns would change the fact that he wasn't going to get satisfactory answers.
Nyx had stayed quiet through most of it — a rare miracle by anyone’s standards — but her expression had gone from her usual playful grin to something sharper, more alert. She’d caught the words Cardassian, classified, and need-to-know, and none of them were exactly the sort of vocabulary that promised an easy day.
When Commander Tyree finished, she gave a low whistle. “So, let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” she said, leaning forward a little, elbows braced on her knees. “I’m stepping onto a freighter under cover, filling in for the commander of a ship that technically doesn’t exist, helping with a medical crisis in Cardassian space — and if anything goes wrong, no one knows I was ever born.”
She tilted her head, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Just checking we’re all working off the same definition of fun, sir.”
But there wasn’t mockery in her tone — just that easy, crooked grin she used when the stakes went up. Her gaze flicked between the two men, blue-green eyes bright. “No questions from me on the why. I’m guessing the when is now and the how is quietly. Just tell me which name I’m answering to down there.”
She tapped two fingers to the side of her head, expression finally settling into something that looked almost like discipline. “And if our Gul friend gets too nosey, I can keep things tidy until the XO gets back. Don’t worry — I can play nice with Cardassians. Mostly.”
Rhu smiled slightly, noting the eagerness he might have once shared. "You pick a name. One you can easily answer to and we'll convert that to a non-official cover for you. Think about it and the background will match something close to your own, sans the fleet influence." Shifting his dunnage to one side, he said and "YOU will not engage with the Cardassians. If they reach out, get ahold of the XO and she will. If they decide to board the Adelaide, tell the computer to engage Sampson Option Four, then offer no resistance. Leave any Fleet and identifying gear you brought with you on loGret. That includes weapons. I doubt things will get that hairy. They already think I sent information off to the Fleet. I'm guessing that will keep them hands off, unless something really interesting is going on here. You getting the idea, Ms. Calder?"
Nyx blinked once as Tyree mentioned picking a name — then let out a soft, amused scoff.
“Oh! Right. Yeah. Already done, sir.” She tapped her temple with two fingers. “Chief Calhoun gave me the rundown before we shipped out. I’m Kestrel Voss now — at least when the universe needs me to be.”
A quick grin tugged at her mouth. “So no need for me to get creative. Probably for the best. You do not want to see what happens when I start naming things under pressure.”
The grin faded into something smaller, more serious beneath the edges.
“And don’t worry, Commander — I remember the rest. No weapons. No badges. No Fleet fingerprints. No conversations with scary Cardassians unless they initiate and the XO gives the nod. If it gets messy, I hit Sampson Option Four and make myself the most cooperative innocent freighter girl you’ve ever met.”
She leaned back, fingers drumming lightly on her knee.
“Kestrel Voss goes where you point her, sir. And she keeps her head down unless you say otherwise.”
Smiling, Rhu pointed downward and said, "Very well. I look forward to knowing you better...later, Ensign. Go poke around the Adelaide. I think there's cake still in the refer and we'll get to going."
Glancing to the JG, he said, "Then we can get on our way, Mr. Trellis.
A Cross Sim Post By:
Commander Rhupert Tyree
Master And Commander, USS Valiant
Ensign Nyx Calder
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Valiant
Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trelis
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer
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