Observe and Honor

       "By order of Starfleet Command, as of this date, both the crew of starship Atlantis and the MACO unit commanded by Major Balthazar Edison have been ordered to the following coordinates located along the border between space held and defended by the Coalition of Planets and her member worlds and that recognized as being claimed by the Romulan Star Empire. We are to proceed to said coordinates at maximum warp as permitted by the engine systems of this vessel upon departure from drydock and further such orders and instructions as to the nature of our mission assignment will be revealed en route. Signed, Admiral Gardner, Starfleet Command."

       Greene handed the padd back to Commander Frederick who tucked it beneath his left armpit with a slight nod of his head. The Captain cleared his throat and returned his attention to the crisply-attired and polished MACOs lined before him on the deckplates.

       "We have been given our orders. Those are to locate and destroy an automated sensor beacon that the Romulans have deployed within Coalition space, one that they appear to be using to direct their vessels to targets. The Armstrong was lost in that vicinity just two solar weeks ago with the loss of all hands aboard. Two Earth Cargo Authority freighters carrying medical and food supplies have been ambushed and wiped out in that same vicinity. Gentlemen, the time has come for the killing in that sector to stop. The Romulans have a beacon that's letting their ships find ours and well within our own territorial boundaries. Were we not already at war this would be more than enough provocation to declare one."

       Edison's jaw tightened every so slightly. "Permission to speak, Captain?"

       Greene pursed his lips. "Granted, Major. Go ahead."

        "Sir, the rumors my men and I heard before we came aboard your ship is that there is a large armed presence along the frontier and that we'd be facing crewed vessels, not just a sensor beacon. With all due respect to Admiral Gardner and the brass at Starfleet Command, isn't this overkill to find and disable one device?"

       Commander Frederick interjected himself into the exchange. "Major Edison, would you mind defining the term 'overkill' in this scenario?"

        "Sir, Atlantis is one of five NX-class starships in service. They're the fastest, most sophisticated and most heavily-armed space vessels ever constructed by human hands. We're currently carrying the best weapons systems that R&D has to offer. Photonic torpedoes. Spatial torpedoes with variable-yield fusion warheads in the megaton-range. Pulsed phase cannons that can rip half the surface off an asteroid with just one volley. The most advanced sensors in the fleet. We're carrying almost 100 people not counting myself and my men. And they need ALL of this....just to blow up some damn beacon floating in the void of space?"

          Private Cantoran chimed in as Edison feared he might, and with the characteristic vigor that he'd come to dread in certain social settings. "The Major makes a good point, Captain. We're soldiers. We've been trained for direct combat with the enemy, not sit behind some control console or stand at the back of a bridge and watch as somebody else plays target practice with an inanimate object. We're soldiers. Trained to fight. It's our job. Let us do that, or else we have no purpose on this mission! We'd be more useful just sitting around in our barracks down on Earth!"

           Edison glanced to his side, catching and locking a steely gaze with Cantoran that he hoped would prevent his overly ebullient comrade-in-arms from getting them all locked in the brig or booted off the ship for direct insubordination. But he couldn't really find fault with what the Private had just said. "Mr. Cantoran has a habit of speaking when he should remain quiet and listen, Captain....but he's right."

       Commander Frederick shot a glance at his Captain that could have jumbled the nerves of the most argumentative Tellarite. "Sir..."

       Greene raised a hand to stop his first officer from saying what he knew he was about to say.  Ever since Atlantis launched Ben Frederick had been his right-hand man and his friend, but a source of frequently ill-timed personal opinions that did little to soothe a troublesome situation and quite often made them demonstrably more sensitive and difficult to solve or correct. This time, he'd take care of it himself. "Well? Go ahead and say what you want to say. I'm listening, Major."

       Balthazar swallowed hard and pursed his lips, locking his gaze with that of Jack Greene and hoping that he wasn't about to get his entire unit kicked off the ship for inciting an unfortunate verbal or even physical confrontation with the two highest-ranking officers of this vessel. "Captain, we're not going to win this war by expending all this time and all these resources to gradually pick off one small target after the next. Now somewhere out there....wherever they're hiding....are these Romulans. They are the targets we should be going after, not probes or sensor beacons or random pieces of space junk. We can hit all the beacons we want but that will still leave their warships and their commanders and their Star Empire intact and an existential threat to Earth and to our allies in the Coalition. We NEED to hunt down the Romulans themselves, sir. And kill as many of them as we can before they can do the same to us!"

       Greene cast his eyes down at the deckplates as his facial muscles contorted, his mind considering the argument he'd just heard. "You're preaching to the choir, Major. There's very little you just said which I would disagree with. The Romulans themselves....are the ultimate threat. We know these sensor beacons and other remote targets aren't sentient beings that give the orders that get our people killed....but they ARE important targets if we're going to win this war. Starfleet understands that, Major. Whether you and your rigid military mindset do or not."