Diplomatic But Problematic 2 - Briefing Boogaloo

Posted on Mon Jul 7th, 2025 @ 9:42pm by Ensign Wrenleigh Reed & Lieutenant Ryan Keel

2,780 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Gone, Without Ever Knowing the Way
Location: USS Astrea Diplomatic Department Briefing Room
Timeline: Backpost

::ON::

Ensign Wrenleigh Reed had made her exit, allowing Keel to reflect on their recent interaction. She was up herself, but he could work with her, he decided. Her ambition would likely result in good work done aboard, rather than the undermining of his own position. Though she said she was uninterested in advancing up the ranks in Starfleet, he considered he needed a reliable deputy, and resolved to approach her for it, based on evidence of good work to back up her talk, of course.

A meeting appointment warbled through to his desk terminal. In ten minutes, Wrenleigh wanted him to pop over to the briefing room as agreed. That gave him a little time to whizz up some drinks and snacks for the both of them. She may not drink caffeine, but she might not be above a glass of juice and some Rigelian mud-cookies.

As he powered over, tray in both hands and PADD tucked under the elbow, Keel was glad to get into the swing of his work.

Even though she had said for the Lieutenant to meet her in one of the offices in ten minutes, Wren was still trying to get everything ready to present to him. There were the data pads that had reports from the Ataran issues, along with the current Nausicaan and Breen issues, and all were spread out into her own organised way, but she also understood if it would be confusing to him.

Sitting behind the desk, she looked up as he walked into the office and smiled. "Glad you could make it, sir."

Keel smiled pleasantly, 'I'm just glad I managed to navigate my way here.' He put the tray down on a spare part of the desktop. Seeing the disorganised padds scattered across the place, Keel made a face internally. It wasn't great to see a disorganised mind at work, and he thought he might have to downgrade his estimates of her. 'I brought some juice and chocolate cookies. Rigelian, they were my favourite growing up. No pressure though.'

Her eyes lit up at the mention of food and drink. "I'll never complain about someone bringing chocolate or cookies to a meeting, just saying." Wren said with a laugh as she sat back and watched him take a seat after putting everything on the table. It wasn't polite to just go and take something straight away, so she waited a bit. "I know it looks like a mess here, but I promise there is definitely some organisation to all of this."

Chuckling, Keel shook his head, 'honestly, you could have fooled me.' He pushed the plate toward her, 'please don't wait on ceremony - food is meant to be shared, at least that's how we were brought up back home.' Looking over the collection of padds, he gave a low whistle, 'you weren't kidding when you said there was a lot of work around.'

"To be fair, this," Wren pointed to the stack of four data padds to the left of her, "I've been advised the Ataran situation has been rectified now so we don't have to worry about anything else coming out of it, but this is all the data I'd been given from Chief Kayto before he left, if you wanted to get some background about the previous mission." She then pointed to another little pile, "This is what Lieutenants Cyn and Fulvia have been able to gather so far on the current Nausicaan and Breen situation, with more to come apparently."

"Obviously we only get a portion of the information that Intelligence gets, but it's all pertinant to us being able to handle any diplomatic crises, don't you think?" Taking one of the cookies, Wren bit into it and savored the taste as she chewed it, "These are actually really nice. The chocolate tastes different to what I've had before though."

'We've made good business in growing our own coffee and cacao beans,' Keel replied. 'But modifying them to the specific conditions on the planet has changed the flavour somewhat - arabica beans in particular are stronger and more bitter in their flavour than more traditional Earth varieties. If you don't like your coffee strong and dark, I'd steer clear.' He held up a cookie, 'our chocolate though ... creamier and a little sweeter than the Earth version.'

"Yep," Wren nodded her head. "I can definitely taste the sweetness to it. But it fascinating to know that over time, something that was traditionally an Earth delicacy has been adapted to suit different conditions." She reached over and poured a juice, "Do you want one? Or would you prefer a coffee before we get started?"

Trying to catch up with the flash briefing, Keel smiled and said, 'I'll need a raktajino, if you don't mind.' He picked up his own biscuit and placed it on a spare plate. 'Could we begin with the Ataran situation - I've heard a few brief mentions, but not a proper in-depth briefing about it.' He sighed, 'things that often seem closed off can often come unstuck again.'

"Well," Wren started as she handed him one of the pads, "here's hoping they don't because it was a messy situation with the Atarans. According to our records, we managed to revive 137 adults twenty-one and over, and 23 children and adolescents, including Brunel and Jheva, who are staying with us with the former being adopted by Commander Winters. The slavers wanted part of the society that we awoke when we came across their ship to be the colony that will inhabit the planet, and presumably anyone not wanting to assimilate into said society would not be welcomed. Our primary objective was to free the slaves away from their captors and work on rehabilitating them and providing them with services and education to allow them to lead independent and stable lives going forward."

Taking up her cup and drinking from it, Wren added, "Instead of taking people out of stasis who knew how to run the ship, who maybe could have landed them somewhere safe, when power became at issue there was an algorithm, and to save power the computer decided who the Atarans would need for a new colony. I mean, what kind of society picks and chooses who gets to live and who gets to die?" The whole situation made her angry and it reflected in the tone she tried to keep level.

'One that runs on a different value system than ours, I'd guess,' Keel replied neutrally, trying to not let his feelings get in the way of the briefing. Truly it sounded an appalling way to run a civilisation. 'And the remaining Atarans, those not adopted by a member of the crew, have they been rehomed and re-integrated?'

"I've been keeping in touch with a couple of them, especially a teenager named Muriel, and she's reported that the majority have settled nicely into their new surroundings and roles but there are a few that are still having a bit of trouble with the integration. Thankfully though, there have been policies and procedures put in place with Starfleet Medical to help with that." Wren took another sip of her drink and placed it down again. "No one is willing to branch out yet and do their own individual thing, but that's something to work on in the future. I've spent quite a bit of time talking to Muriel and she likes the concept of Starfleet, so that's promising."

'That's very promising indeed,' Keel replied, impressed despite himself. 'If you'd be willing, if you get any updates from Muriel, or any other Atarans, I'd like a report on it, just so we can monitor their progress over the long term, particularly the ones that are struggling. Don't want any of them going off the deep end.'

"Of course," Wren nodded. "I think monitoring and letting Medical know our ongoing involvement from a distance would be beneficial to everyone involved. I mean, if I was in that kind of situation, I wouldn't want to be liberated or rescued by Starfleet and then just have them disappear without at least following up in some form or another."

'Exactly - they need to see and understand that Starfleet, and the Federation, are in their corner. Even if their own people weren't all those years ago,' Keel replied eagerly, fervently believing his own words. 'What's next on the docket?' he asked, taking a long swallow of his drink.

"The current situation." Wren replied curtly as she took a bite of the biscuit and picked up a padd to hand to him. "Background story is the USS Dalton went missing in 2380, while studying the Vaulteran Nebula in Bolian Space. However, information has come in that a trader on Freecloud has information about where the Dalton is located. Traders have set up shop on Freecloud and the Pakleds have already expressed their interest and may have made an offer for it but we intercepted it."

"The Nausicaans and the Kzinti have already expressed their interest as well, and our interception of their trade deals have currently ended in disaster with Ensign Cha'joga discharging her weapon at the wrong time and now Major McEntyre is seeing red over it." She paused a moment to finish off her drink before adding, "And you were in the briefing, so you know as much if not more than I do about it, if I'm being honest."

'Entertain my curiosity,' Keel replied quickly. 'I'm still hazy on the actual geo-politics of it all. The discharging weapon ... well. I can understand a Marine wanting to go after the person responsible, but chain of command is clear. Starfleet personnel ultimately answer to their Captain, not the Marine Commanding Officer.'

"I don't know what the outcome is going to be with her, unfortunately, but I would assume there's going to be some sort of reprimand at the end of it all." Wren shrugged. "I mean, there's got to be, right? Anyway, moving on. The Major's mission was a failure, and it remains to be seen how it's going to be salvaged without compromising the integrity of Starfleet in general."

'The Dalton was carrying something exceptional? Or just the ramifications in general about losing a Starfleet vessel to adversarial states?' Keel was still somewhat hazy on what the stakes were, his briefing notes had been vague on the matter so far. Understandable really, but he didn't want to depend too much on his ambitious deputy.

Wren looked from her notes in front of her and back up to Keel, "The ramifications in general. Someone's head is gonna roll when all this is over, and I'm hoping that the Astrea will come out unscathed and smelling like daisies."

'Right. Hence our chasing down this lead through a godsforsaken part of the Quadrant,' Keel sighed as he set his PADD down, having skimmed the notes Reed had provided him. 'I take it then, we haven't had any major leads since the Major's mission went south.'

"Unfortunately, if there are any leads, I don't have that information." Wren replied with a shake of the head. "I'm afraid you'll have to go to Intel and see Lieutenant Cyn if there are." She hated not having all the answers.

He nodded his understanding. 'That's fine - it can't be helped. I remember plenty of times where we were deployed as Marines without knowing the fully picture. Just broad strokes or the immediate goal, and nothing in between.' Keel smiled, a genuine one this time, 'only having bits and pieces is sometimes necessary, but I won't deny it's frustrating.'

Was that a real smile from him?! It threw Wren off slightly but she continued in her mostly professional tone anyway, "Um, yes. I agree 100% with that. I find it frustrating too. I think we should potentially tee something up with Intelligence so everyone is on the same pages across the board. What do you think?"

'I fully agree,' Keel replied with a firm nod. 'Get us all on the same page, know what the desired outcomes are, and work from there. Perhaps there are some diplomatic channels we can work from our end to make things a little easier for us all.' Shrugging, he concluded. 'Might be a long shot with some of the people we're dealing with, but every avenue should be pursued.'

"I do know of the one diplomatic channel we can get guaranteed help from, if that's what you're referring to?" Wren questioned.

'That is what I'm referring to,' Keel responded, folding his hands together on the tabletop. 'Please elaborate.'

"My father." Wren said simply. "He has more knowledge than anyone I know about Nausicaans, Pakleds, you name it. He'd be more than happy to help out, more surprised if I'm the one reaching out to him about it too."

'He'd be surprised that you reached out?' Keel sounded dubious at her statement. He didn't want their one sure route to information to be a dead end because of some fraught relationship. He mulled it over a moment and followed up his question with a, 'he'd be surprised because you want to make your own name, right? Not be dependent on him?'

She nodded in response, "Correct. Is it bad that when meeting people, I want them to see the accomplishments I've made first before they learn I'm the daughter of Ambassador Reed? Because that's happened, you know."

Keel shrugged, he'd never had that problem in all honesty. When your parents were hippies and you were in a military-adjacent organisation, you sank or swam based on your own skills. 'It's a shame that that's happened to you.' He looked her in the eye and smiled, 'I'm firmly of the belief that we should be judged on our abilities and results alone.'

"Much like what you've been doing with me this entire meeting, if I'm guessing correctly?" Wren raised an eyebrow and grinned. While she appreciated the sentiment he was offering, she agreed with what Keel was saying about judgement.

'Exactly,' Keel offered with a nod. 'If you weren't up to scratch, you'd soon have known it - we'd have had it out by now.'

"I would much rather 'have it out' with a person while we're off duty and them not be my boss, if I'm allowed to be that direct." Wren liked his attitude towards things. "But getting back to the task on hand, I'll place a call when necessary to my father and he can give us what we need."

'That sounds reasonable,' Keel replied, appreciating her honesty. Now if only she could stop looking down her nose at people, they'd get along famously, he reckoned. 'Anything else you feel the need to brief me on right now?'

"That's all I've got, Boss." Wren shook her head. "More to come as we continue on our current path, but that's it for now. Is there anything you'd want to add to it?"

'No - you've done an excellent job bringing me up to speed.' Despite his instincts to reward a crewmember too soon, Keel finished up with a, 'I'll note it in the reports for the week how well you did, and how I appreciate it. Hopefully we can keep this going.'

Wren pushed out the chair and stood up, an appreciative smile on her face. "Thank you, I appreciate it. Unless there is something else we need to discuss, I'll go and get on with my own thing and leave you to go about your day as well?" Her plan for the rest of the day involved perusing a digital archive full of historical conflicts but she was open to other suggestions too.

'Thanks - just have a report of what you're working on, and what you intend to work on, over the next few weeks so we can plot out any time that needs to be taken up by anything Command thinks is more urgent than the day-to-day stuff,' Keel smiled and nodded, 'I don't intend to micro-manage you if you can manage a daily rundown of work.'

"Any time you want that, all you need to do is ask." Wren shifted her weight onto one foot and then scratched her wrist while still watching Keel, "I'll see you around at some point." And with that, she walked out of the room.


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Lieutenant Ryan Keel
Chief Diplomatic Officer
USS Astrea

Ensign Wrenleigh Reed
Diplomatic Officer
USS Astrea

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