"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU COMING TO ME WITH THIS FOR?"
Tom was glad that the room was completely soundproofed. The Director didn't like this at all.
"You are supposed to take things to your direct superiors, Richards!" That was bad - the Director never normally used names in communiques. Tom tried to say something, but couldn't get a word in edge-wise with the Director. "You will take this through the chain of command, Agent! And your superior will hear of this!"
With that, the screen went dead. The communication was terminated.
"Brilliant. The stuck up, son of a-" Tom stopped himself before he broke something, and reduced his door security back to normal levels. Laying on the bed, he tried to think of something to vent his frustration on.
Thomas had left the transporter room as soon as he had arrived onboard. Walking into his quarters, he locked the room with a security code higher than that of a normal Starfleet officer. Only another Intelligence Operative would be able to enter, and to all others, it would appear as if the room was locked down due to malfunctions in the environment controls, or a similar fault.
Computer. Open a secure channel; Protocol Richards-One-Alpha-Indego. Target; Sierra-3-1.
The computer bleeped. "Secure channel open."
A face appeared on the screen, mostly obscured by the shadows of it's room. "Richards. What have you got?"
"I think S31's going to like the toys we brought back, Sir." Thomas said, smiling to one of the heads of Section 31 back on Earth.
Leaving his quarters after recycling a broken lamp in the replicator, Tom decided to wander around the station, to try and cool off.