Secrets Revealed (Part Two of Three)

Tossing his duffel on his bunk, Jon Phanan took a look around his new environment. The quarters were nothing spectacular. There was one bunk built into a type of "slot" in the wall. Along the back wall there was a set of lockers, and along the wall opposite the bunk was a small table with a chair, and a coat rack. This was considered luxury among Marines. The enlisted men and women (on a ship like this) would sleep in rooms with about 8 people to a room, and would share a communal "head" with about another eight people. The officers enjoyed one or two people per room (depending on rank) and in some cases not sharing a "head" at all. Checking the chronometer above the door, he noticed that the time was coming up on 16:00 hours. Unpacking a few things and arranging his quarters a little, he went to go talk to his men.

"Sir ! First Lieutenant Mark Jenkins sir !" A young Lieutenant saluted Phanan as he entered the room.

"At ease Lieutenant," Phanan replied. He looked around to see what seemed like hundreds of Marines eating their early dinner before drills in the holodecks and free time. "I guess you're one of mine."

"Yes sir. I'm your second in command sir. All four squads are accounted for sir. Your platoon is eating over there." Jenkins pointed to one side of the room where there four second Lieutenants each eating with their enlisted officers.

"Very well," Jon replied. "Do we have a holodeck slot reserved for the platoon ?"

"Yes sir. 20:00 hours till 21:00 hours sir."

"Good. After dinner, have everyone prepare their quarters for inspection. After that, they can have some free time till 19:30 hours. We'll have a mock briefing our training simulation, then they can have free time till 22:30 hours. I want everyone awake for duty tomorrow."

"Understood sir. I'll get right on it."

"Good. Get to it Lieutenant." Jon then turned, and made his way out of the mess hall. The next morning, the assembled Marine officers met in a briefing room, taking their seats in an auditorium like hall. Colonel Smith stepped out onto the "stage" area. "On your feet !"

All of the officer corps rose. Squad and Platoon leaders were present for this briefing, each of them sitting near their respective leaders. "Be seated." Everyone sat back down as Smith walked across the stage to the speaker's podium. He then tapped in a few commands into the podium console, and the large display in back of him activated.

"I've just been handed our orders as to where we will be heading. The Utopia will be departing Utopia Planitia in one hour. We have received orders from Admiral Beard that a Romulan task force is seizing the opportunity to expand into some planets near the neutral zone. We are to go there, and stop them from doing this." Smith turned, and looked at the display. "What you see here are the latest Intel reports on the ground instillation on Zeta Centaur. It is a small base, containing only a barracks, communications and sensor station, and cargo facilities for building materials. This is suspected to become a major supply facility for the Romulan fleet, and a storehouse for what Intel believes may be a silent, but upcoming attack against the Federation." Smith paused to get a sip of water from the glass next to the podium. "The Utopia will arrive in system, and we will send down our Marines, under the cover of darkness, to infiltrate the base, and destroy it. The key point in this mission is to make it look as though Starfleet had nothing to do with this. If so, we can have a major war on our hands which we started. The plan will be carried out as follows." Colonel Smith then went into the particulars of the mission, and what each platoon's job was supposed to be. "Are there any questions ?"

The room was quiet in response."Very well. On your feet." Everyone rose. "Dismissed." With that, the burly Colonel left the room.

"Three to one says we're dead," Frederickson said, as he walked over to where Jon was standing."

"I don't like those odds much." Jon commented, as he picked up the PADD he had set down on the small desk attachment of his seat.

Frederickson lowered his voice. "Don't get me wrong, I don't like the Rommies as much as the next guy. But where do these Intel guys come up with this crap ? They haven't shown any signs of attacking, especially after the Dominion War."

Jon shook his head. "I don't know. All I'm trained to do is say 'Yes sir' and nod my head. If they say we're going to Zeta Centaur, then we're going to Zeta Centaur." Phanan shrugged, and made his way back to his quarters.