Mission 7.3 - sectorg.org

USS Caledonia
And
StarBase BoB
Season 7
Episode 3
The Resurrection Casket
Perfect Evil
=/\= USS Caledonia - CO's Ready Room =/\=
"Captain Myers. I have a mission which might be of interest to you."
"Meaning, no-one else can be spared?" Chess said, interested but
unamused. The call from Admiral Chris Bishops had been less of a
surprise, and more of an acceptance by now.
"Meaning, Captain, that the powers-that-be have seen fit to assign the
Caledonia to a specific task," Bishops said more forcefully.
"I'm listening."
"I am just sending you new co-ordinates. You'll need to change course and
proceed to Scavenger's Hub. It's a small, barely M-class planetoid the
other side of Kaus Borealis. Very inhospitable world, not fully occupied
at all."
"But the natives are friendly?" Chess put in.
"Yes and no. It's not, exactly, a Federation world although it falls
within our territory. A few centuries ago it was claimed under some
probably dubious arrangement by a man called Ned Jackson. The Jackson
family - or rather, their descendants - own it to this day. It gets it
name from it's trade. There is only one area of civilisation, a colony
city, although it's ramshackle by anyone's standards. In fact, it's less
of a city and more of a shanty town."
"I see. And it's full of...scavengers?" Chess arched an eyebrow.
"In a manner of speaking. It was once, allegedly, a haunt of space
pirates, back in olden times. Nowadays the town, Jackson's Whole,
comprises of bars, trading posts, repair companies, and more bars. The
clientele aren't necessarily all outlaws, but they're on the sharp edge
of legal, if you see what I mean."
"Mm. I know the sort of place." Chess could see it in her mind. Grey,
cloudy skies, a jumble of pre-fab buildings, some transported dura-perm
units, some probably made from native materials. Busy skyports, the
bustle of rough hard-bitten people, hustling to make a living, paying for
dubious services, heavy drinking... "And the Caledonia is to visit this
location why, precisely?"
Chris Bishops leant back in his chair and laced his fingers together.
"This is the crux of the matter. Have you ever heard of an artefact
called the Casket of Eternal Life, sometimes called the Resurrection
Casket?"
"No," said Chess flatly. "I've heard of a lot of hocus-pocus in my time,
but not that one. I take it that this must be a fraud, or a scam?"
Bishops didn't reply directly. "It's come to our attention that such an
artefact has surfaced on Scavengers Hub, and is being toted for sale.
It's nothing on our official radar, in fact there's very few references
to it and most of them are filed under ancient legends. But in certain
sections of the underworld it's causing a ripple of interest."
"So you want us to go there and check it out?" Chess still wasn't sure
where this was leading.
"Yes. And if possible, bring it back with you."
"The Caledonia is being entrusted with the Secret of Eternal life? Isn't
that a bit odd?"
Chris Bishops laughed, "Believe me, Captain, there's really no truth in
the legend. I believe it was originally used as a propaganda newsbyte for
a crew of particularly nefarious pirates about a hundred years ago. Scare
the opposition with a rumour that they could never die. I'll send what
little we have, anyway, and you can peruse it on your way there."
"Alright, so if it isn't real, and it isn't even confirmed as being
there, why are we being sent there? How can it matter?"
Bishops sighed, "Rumour is a powerful tool, Captain. Suppose that some
artefact did exist, even if it didn't have any more power than an empty
wooden box. Which is all it would be, of course. It only takes one
species of less than noble intent to get ahold of it, before another
species wants it. It's nearest neighbours are the Ferengi and the
Breen...plus a few smaller races that are probably settlers from way
back. None of those are what we would really call reliable."
"So there might be trouble over a fake artefact?"
"Not officially, no. Governments wouldn't have anything to do with it.
But amongst the more insalubrious groups we might expect to see
escalations in piracy, random attacks and general trouble and strife.
This area of space doesn't need it, we've got quite enough trouble with
random Orion attacks. It's a big, dangerous area and we're thinly
stretched. We prefer to head off trouble before anyone has a chance to
cause it."
"Right," Chess nodded briskly. "So what are our orders, specifically? Are
we to go there simply as Starfleet Officers and make official enquiries?"
Bishops rocked his hand side to side, palm down. "Maybe, maybe not. I
think I'll leave that to your own judgement."
"Is this a covert operation?"
Again the rocked hand, "Not exactly, no. It's official and sanctioned.
I'd just call it using your best discretion."
"I'd call it passing the buck," Chess muttered.
"However you want to see it, that's orders, Captain. Get down there, make
enquiries, and if it turns out that there is physically an artefact
alleging to be this Resurrection Casket, then find a way to bring it back
with you."
"I'll talk with the crew and we'll come up with a plan of action. It'll
take us a few days to travel there anyway." Chess paused, "What, exactly,
does this casket *do*? I presume it just brings people back from the
dead?"
"No-one knows," Chris Bishops gave an urbane smile. "That's the legend,
certainly, but no-one has any details of how it was supposed to work. No
that it matters, of course."
"Of course," Chess agreed dryly. "I'd better get us going, then."
"I'm sure you'll manage to either prove the rumour about it's existence
false, or bring it back with you where it can be officially debunked,"
Bishops said encouragingly.
"Thank you Admiral," Chess didn't confirm or deny what they would do.
With the commlink closed, she drew up the data that Bishops had sent to
her commconsole. As he'd indicated, there was very little there. She'd
read through it, and then brief the crew the next day.
Tapping her commbadge she said crisply, "Lieutenant Lamarr, set us on a
new course according to the following co-ordinates..."
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
Mulder was watching the body language happening all around her, and it
was intriguing.
Lupha seemed to be brimming with some hidden excitement still, whilst
Morrie... Morrie was a mass of conflicting emotions. It was quite a
puzzle.
She knew if she asked she *might* be told, but it was more intriguing to
wonder.
But whilst that had it's interest, there was work to do, and reports to
sign off. She looked over to the various work stations. It was all still
so remarkably peaceful. She could only wonder how long it would all last.
"Hey Babe!" Baxter said coming up to her. "I mean, Hey Babe Sir! What's
cooking?"
He handed her a giant piece of chocolate. "Got a minute?" he asked.
"I think I can oblige my favourite security officer," Mulder grinned, as
she placed the chocolate on the seat behind her, where it was promptly
pounced upon and swallowed whole by Sherlock. "Bad dog! No, not you,
Commander. Come along into the conference room, we can talk there."
She led the way into the small office that had long since been bagged as
a briefing room. "Have a seat," she sat down herself and placed her
coffee mug on the table. "What's up?"
Baxter sat and tossed Mulder a Cadbury egg direct from Earth and the
highways of Birmingham going north.
"I'd like to take a test," Baxter said.
"A...test?" Mulder looked baffled. "What sort of test?"
"Nothing too important," Baxter muttered, which was unlike him.
"Must be something important or you wouldn't be asking me," Mulder
mumbled through a mouthful of incredibly sweet and totally delicious
fondant and chocolate. She wondered where Baxter had aquired these. As
far as she knew, Cadburys still refused to export outside the Sol System.
She decided it would be sensible not to ask. "What test are we talking
about?"
"Oh, just the command proficiency course," he said under his breath.
"What do you think? Can I do it?"
"Of course you can," Mulder smiled. "I think you're very brave to go for
it. I'll be happy to endorse your application. I take it you're going to
do the long-distance one?"
"Yes, Babe Sir," he said. "I don't think Yus would like me to be gone for
a long time around all those fancy lady engineers out there."
"Good. I don't think I'd quite stretch to granting you permission to go
back to Earth to take it. Look what happenend when Sergeant DeZusa tried
to go back to Earth a few years back. I don't think we could manage
without you for nine months," she grinned.
Baxter grinned. "You'd be lost without me, Sir," he said. "What would you
do without chocolate? By the way, want some more eggs?" He tossed some to
her.
"Sure. So apply, and ping me the paperwork, and I'll do the rest," Mulder
licked her fingers. "Anything else new on the radar? Lieutenant Vega
mentioned some trouble with Crewman Gomez and a rather unpleasant marine
earlier today.."
"Well, Babe Sir, that's a bit of a problem," Baxter said. "They seem to
hate each other. We're going to do a little talking with the major.
Nothing that can't be sorted out, I'm sure. You know how women are ... er
... not women, I mean ... well ... you know how people can get
sometimes."
He sat there grinning wildly.
Mulder gave him a basilisk stare and just blinked once.
"Stuck my foot in it, didn't I?" he asked.
"Only you chocolate contributions saved your hide there, Commander."
Mulder gave him a reproving look, hiding her grin. "So, as we were
saying..."
"Well, Sir, I'll get that papework turned in right away. Thank you
letting me give this a try. Who knows, you might just need a secretary
some day and I can step in."
"Somehow, I think a twinset and pearls might not *quite* suit you," she
batted him lightly on the shoulder. "Go on then. I know you'll do just
fine. And you do have my full approval to speak with the Major about that
vile little marine. I know she's guilty, too. Whatever the charge, she'd
be guilty," Mulder judiciously declared as they left the room.
Sherlock looked at first hopeful, and then disappointed, that there were
no more chocolate treats for him today.
-=-Earth, 37 Acacia Avenue....high summer -=“You little monster,” Dhillon roared before laughing to grab Suraj as the
boy sprinted past across the lawn. The grass had somehow retained his
emerald sheen as the sun beat down on it. The summer had bloomed like a
wild orchid and the days were lazy and long.
“Not monster, your son, remember,” Suraj cackled back as he was inverted
like a bottle. “There *is* a difference.” The last few days had been
magical. This week it was Arihanas’ turn to entertain him over the
holidays. His father had come to pick him, only for some contacts to keep
him town for a few days.
“Can still feed you to your Granny Payal, you know,” Dhillon tickled his
son. “She still got her own teeth.”
“You will do no such thing, Dhillon. Not if I have anything to do with
it. En garde.”
Dhillon and Suraj both closed their eyes as they were both showered by a
hose. The burst was refreshing and much appreciated. They were drenched,
the pair of them. Was nothing to worry about, the sun would soon dry the
clothes to feel heavy and like cardboard.
Suraj looked at his father with raised brows, as though asking what he
was about to do about the spontaneous aqueous attack. The boy was righted
again, still wondering what was going to happen.
Dhillon arched his brows back. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Son?” he
asked, putting his hands in his pockets a moment.
Arihana frowned, looking at them both. “No, you don’t.....”there was that
vague panic in her voice as she dropped the hose and hot footed it away.
Dhillon and Suraj were both coming towards her.
“I got it, daddy, got the hose.” Suraj squealed jumping up and down,
holding the hose.
“You can run, Dharma,” Dhillon felt his feet squelch as he ran. “But you
cannae hide,” he added, reaching out to grab Arihana as she ran.
“Get her! Get mummy,” Suraj was a little excited to aim the hose towards
his parents.
“This is abuse,” Arihana managed before toppling over, the hose knocking
her over in tandem with Dhillon.
*** Arihana sneezed, wiping her nose with her forearm as she washed up.
Lasagne appeared to be welded on. Suraj had left piles of peppers,
Dhillon had picked out courgettes.
“We got an early start tomorrow, so please go to sleep,” Dhillon pulled
the pyjama top over the boys’ head as he sat on the cleared dining table.
“Dontvantgoback,” Suraj muffled, his hair finally becoming visible as he
poked his head through.
“Your mother only has this week off,” Dhillon sighed as he whispered. “So
tough.” He added sternly. “We’ve had this conversation, Suraj,” Dhillon
looked at Arihana a moment, before looking back at Suraj. “Not this
Christmas, not any Christmas. Son, you’re living a dream world. Nick.
Remember.”
Arihana didn’t appear to be listening as she clunked some crockery on the
drainer.
“C’mon, spud,” Dhillon picked up his son, “Bed,” he added as Suraj
wrapped himself around his father.
“Night,” Arihana pulled the plug to drain the sink, blowing a kiss and
suds towards the kid.
*** “Dunno about you, Arihana,” Dhillon yawned to enter the kitchen,
rubbing his eyes. “But I need a coffee.”
“I was ten, I didn’t know a kumquat from a clementine,” Dhillon laughed
shaking his head. “Was young, innocent and naïve,” he added poking out
his tongue to plant the mug on the table.
Arihana shrugged. “Hindsight is beautiful thing,” she replied, draining
her own hot chocolate.
“It is, yeah,” he yawned to stand, putting his mug into the sink. “I’m
gonna hit the sack. Gonna be a long drive back. Going bed....”with a
sigh, he edged towards the hall.
“Dhill?”
He hadn’t heard that in a while. He stopped, half aware of what was about
to follow.
“Wait for me.”
Turning slowly, he found that Arihana was on her tip toes and wrapped
firmly around him. He couldn’t argue back. Was rude to talk with your
mouth full.
*** This was strange, but not strange at the same time. Not like this
hadn’t been done before. Inhaling to wake, there was that scent. A
mixture of vanilla and peonies. Dhillon smiled as though he was in a daze
to uncurl himself from around her. He didn’t want to. But he had to. Lest
this was all a dream. But not a particularly bad one.
As far as he could remember, everything was still where he had left
it.She hadn’t changed, but become a little more polished in all the right
places.
Padding towards the bathroom, Dhillon attempted to process it all.
Looking at his reflection, at his wide eyes. He wondered.
“What on earth just happened?” he asked himself. “Ex-wife remember. The
married ex-wife.” He sighed to hold onto the basin. “or is she? Where is
Nick, Timbuktu?”
*** In the second draw down of the bedside table, the facts were there. A
decree nisi and the other an absolute. Dissolution of marriage on grounds
of infidelity. Guilty party, one Arihana Dharma. ***
Dhillon blinked, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. “She hasn’t
said, remember. Doesn’t wear her wedding ring, and he’s not here to jump
out of a closet. Christmas is not about to come early. Not for me, not
for Suraj. Not for anyone. Just about over Des. This would be coming full
circle. She could just be playing you. "
“I’m not. Honest,” was the reply from the doorframe behind him.
Dhillon closed his eyes in a wince to turn around and face her, still
holding onto the basin. “Arihana, I-”
He was unable to finish his sentence as she planted a finger delicately
to his lips. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered. “Not a single word,”
Arihana had the look of frightened rabbit as she put her head on his
chest, and arms around his waist. It was hard work this. Being a
philanderer.
Dhillon remained silent, just holding her before she ended up in a puddle
on the floor. He wasn’t sure as to what had just happened, or what was
going to happen next. He was confused and unsure.
Had been a moment of madness, Arihana told herself silently. But it was
done. Que sera and all that jazz. Poor Dhillon. This wasn’t going to
last. Not really.
=/\= SB BoB - Outside Docking Bay =/\=
Mulder let 'Greased Lightening' idle as she sat in the little fighter
vessel, waiting for Jyan Chera to take his own ship out.
The last round of checks had gone smoothly, and she had approved all the
tweaks he'd made in accordance with her directions. Now, as promised, she
was going to monitor a run-out for the final sign-off. She'd been telling
the simple truth when she'd said that she wanted to take Greased
Lightening out as well, it was time the sleek little alien vessel was
given an airing. Besides, she enjoyed it. The trip out to the Caledonia a
few days ago had merely whetted her appetite for more.
Jyan Chera was keeping a close eye on Mulder. She was a good pilot as far
as he could tell, but she rubbed him the wrong way. Too official. Too in
command. Too bad. She was quite a good looker when you came down to it.
Mulder opened her comm, "We'll fly on the co-ordinates I'm sending out
now. They go down the mouth of the pass towards occupied space, on the
Sayl'reth side. There shouldn't be much traffic as the border around here
is pretty quiet, the Sayl'reth don't venture out much. And there's no
traffic booked for incoming this morning on this route, so we should have
a clear run."
"As you wish, my Captain," Jyan said. "Is this all necessary?"
"If you want to get your licence clear then yes. Otherwise we can just
turn right around and go back now," Mulder said breezily.
"As you wish," he said again and sighed. "Sure you don't want to come
aboard?"
"I'll monitor your engine's performance from here, I've got a link
stablished," she touched some of the controls, having long got used to
the alien inscriptions. She had no idea what language they were in, or
even where the ship had originally come from. Once it had been owned by
the former CSEC of the Caledonia, who'd lost it in a poker game to the
former CNAV of the Caledonia, who'd become the CO of BoB, who'd left it
to her (although he didn't know it) when he'd gone AWOL many years ago.
But she'd flown Greased Lightening in serious combat, several times, and
was as familiar with the ship as she was with her own computer. It was
hers now, and she always loved the feel of it's quiet, powerful engines
thrumming through the hull, waiting to be opened up and fly impossible
feats. Part of her knew, deep down, that the life of a pilot as a
permanent occupation was probably not for her, she'd get bored after a
while. But as a part-time occupation, it was exhilerating.
"Course laid in?"
"Aye, Captain," Jyan said.
"Then let's go," Mulder smiled in satisfaction as GL's engines responded
with quiet intensity, smoothly taking the little fighter onto it's
course. "Steady as she goes at first, I'll give the word as to when we
can open up engines."
Jyan continued on the course, steadily, no little fun things - just plain
and simply flying. He didn't want Mulder to see or think this was
anything but a lumbering merchant vessel with a flashy exterior.
As they flew, Mulder kept careful check of the incoming data. She was
relieved to see everything checked out, as really, spending too much time
with the decidedly fishy Mister Chera was not her idea of a good time.
But if it gave her the opportunity to fly for a few hours, it could be
tolerated.
Jyan had checked everything over three times. He knew his ship and he
knew Mulder wouldn't find anything amiss.
"Ready to open up the engines now Captain?" he asked." Think your little
ship can keep up?"
He couldn't help himself really.
Mulder smirked, "I let my ship speak for itself. Go."
"As you wish, Sir," he said, and opened up the throttle. The engine
purred and zoomed off into open space. He was disappointed to see her
right beside him.
"Now what was the question again?"
"Maybe I should fix my engines more," he muttered.
"Pointless," Mulder said brightly. "But go ahead, knock yourself out."
"Captain, I already am," he added.
Mulder's day was actually getting better. Wiping the smile off someone's
face was fast becoming a pleasant hobby. After a few moments, though, she
looked at her console and frowned. "Are you getting a reading?"
He probably was but Mulder had irked him so much he wasn't paying
attention. "Not that I noticed," he said.
"Ahead mark five point three even," she hesitated, then decided to go for
it. "Follow me. We might as well check this out."
There it was, right where she said. Dang. He'd missed it. That woman was
getting to him. "Right on your bu ... tail, Captain," he stated.
For ten minutes they flew in silence, as the mark came closer. "Well,
what have we here?" Mulder slowed her engines down.
Ahead, moving slowly and deliberately through space, was a small cruiser,
roughly the size of a Defiant-class runabout. "Run scans," Mulder said
briskly. "Independant of my own systems. See what you get."
Jyan had already been scanning. He wasn't going to be caught off guard
agian. "No life signs," he said. "Nothing I can pin down - origin
unknown. I'm not getting a reading on defensive and offensive weaponry.
Things must be shut down over there. Your orders, Sir?"
"I'm not getting anything either," Mulder murmured. "And they aren't
exactly racing anywhere. Maybe it's just a ..probe ship of some kind. Who
knows... out here, it could be *anything*." She studied the markings,
such as they were, and couldn't see anything at all that gave any clues
as to the origins of the strange vessel.
"Let's move in closer," he suggested. This could present Jyan with some
new cargo.
"Mmmm...no," Mulder said decisively. "It could be booby-trapped. Or
contain a wildly contagious disease. Or be construed as an act of war by
some vastly aggressive race we've never even heard of. I think we'll just
leave it alone. We're too far out to get assistance in time if things
went pear-shaped. Trust me on this - I've worked in this sector long
enough to know when to be curious and when not to tempt fate."
"As you wish," Jyan said. He thought she was getting pretty bossy. He
wasn't one of her uniformed little minions. He'd remember where the ship
was and come back later. Wait, she was talking ..
"We'll set a marker here so it can be investigated by a ship with fifty
times the firepower, and call it in. It doesn't look immediately
dangerous. Turn around - we're setting a course back to BoB."
"Aye, Captain," Jyan said begrudgingly. It would be too hot to get to for
awhile.
Mulder span GL neatly on its axis and started off, taking her time to set
the right co-ordinates and send out the appropriate notification signals
for their border patrol ships.
Ten minutes later, she noticed something odd and commed Chera. "Is it my
imagination, or has that off ship changed course and is following us?"
Jyan who had been making sure the location of the mystery ship was
recorded in his computers, looked up surprised. He checked. "It's
definitely following us, Capt. Mulder."
"Yeah... that's what I thought." She frowned at her instruments. "Set a
new course on my mark, full speed ahead, then double back. We'll see if
it's coincidence or not."
"Might be a waste of fuel," he said with a shrug. He followed her
instructions.
The two ships bolted forwards, and after another ten minutes were back in
their original position. "Damn. It *is* following us." The ship loomed in
their sights. "I really really don't need this. Picking up waifs and
strays generally leads to nothing but trouble," Mulder grumbled.
"I beg to differ, Captain," Jyan said. "It's picking us up, not the other
way around. What next?"
"We'll get back to BoB at full speed by different routes. That ought to
confuse it a little, at least," Mulder gave a grim smile. "Here's what
we'll do...." she explained the circuitous routes they would be
following. "Now, let's go..."
"Got it," Jyan said.
Without looking behind, Mulder took off on her own trail, satisfied to
see that - for now - nothing appeared to be following them.
Jyan followed the exact course Mulder had given him and muttered about
being hen-pecked the entire time. He did, however, keep a close watch on
ships nearby. There were none. So far, so good.
Thirty minutes later, BoB was in sight, and Mulder gave a small sigh of
relief. "Seems to clear."
"What took you so long?" Jyan laughed, although it was obvious he'd come
in just after her and from the opposite direction. "I think it's gone off
somewhere."
"I hope that's the last we've seen of it," Mulder murmured. "Hopefully it
was too confused to follow us *both* and just... carried on doing
whatever it was supposed to be doing."
"So am I certified?" Jyan asked, not caring much about the unknown ship
at the moment.
"Yes, your ship flies smoothly enough, I'll confirm it fit for business,"
Mulder was *almost* in a good mood, mainly be default, knowing the ship
was no longer around."
"Thank you, Captain," he said. "By the way, I wouldn't mind cargo rights
on that ship if it does prove to be available ..."
"You'll keep your grubby hands off things that don't belong to you,"
Mulder said firmly. "This station needs proceeds from salvage sales far
more than you do."
"You're a very difficult woman, Captain, " Jyan said.
"It's probably because I'm allergic to people named Mister Chera."
"I mean that as a compliment," he added. "Okay to dock?"
"Do. It's like to say it's been a pleasure. I'd *like* to, but as we both
know that would be a complete and utter lie I'll simply say goodbye, and
I hope our paths don't cross any more than is necessary."
"Well, if you're ever lonely, you know where to find me," Jyan stated as
he pulled into his berth.
"I would, but it would be a complete waste of make-up," Mulder said
tartly. "Besides, on my list of things to do, spending time with you is
right at the bottom."
She closed the comm before she said anything *really* rude. Some people
ere just *so* irritating.
After checking over GL, she patted the hull affectionately and set off to
get changed out of her flight suit. It was a mystery where that odd,
slow, strange ship had come from but hopefully their signals had reached
whoever was nearest in the area by now, and it was being properly looked
in to.
Mulder had long since learned that unnecessary interference with
potentially troublesome objects was like volunteering in the military only done by the clinically insane and those with a Death Wish.
* * * * * *
Out in space, closer than Mulder might have liked, the alien ship flew
solidly onwards.
Slow but sure, it had made a few false starts and followed a few false
trails, but it's systems had now corrected itself.
It had found it's target again and picked up the ion trail with all the
dedication of an expert tracker dog.
Locking firmly onto the trace left behind, it was heading along the same
path that Greased Lightening had taken some hours ago.
Slowly and silently, it was heading towards BoB.
=^= Infirmary =^=
The Doctor was starting to feel the effect of all the over time he put
for the physicals. He was in the last straigth, he had done most of them.
He wondered if he would have the energy to go after those that didn't
show up, he wanted everyone to have a complete file in case of emergency.
The more he tough about it , the more his research was taking the hit for
the lack of time. Hopefully after this he would be able to give it more
time. He was also thinking about Caz, her lips, he eye, she was a
beautiful woman. He stop, look at the PADD in front of him, the next
patient was Baxter wife or wife to be, he couldn't remember.
Since he came on board he notice that the files he read in the transport
ship was...inacurate or very old. He shook his head, he potantially had
three women interested plus all the civilians and the ultimate challenge,
Caz. Even if two got maired, move and other was Baxter wife's, it didn't
change the fact that he had a good thing going....if it's was going
anywhere. His reflection were stop by a woman walking in.
He got up and walked toward the new arrival. "Good morning, can I help
you with anything?"
Yus smiled. "Yep, I'm here for my annual physical. I don't recall seeing
you before... Doctor?" she enquired.
"I am new here, I came in just before Doctor Alleir left." He smile
warmly
"Ah," she nodded. "Are you French?"
"Guilty as charged." He bowed. "You're the the chief engineer, correct?"
"That's right," Yus Omar-Mattingly said. "And how did you know?"
"I have a super human mind," he winked.
As he was turning a technician came by "here is the schedule for physical
you left on your desk 2 min. ago"
"Or maybe not, just well informed about who left for their physical" He
started laughing.
"Yeah, that super-human mind line didn't completely convince me," Yus
grinned.
"A man has the right to try." He started laughing.
"So what will this physical comprise of?" Yus asked.
"Taking some readings and then a blood sample, nothing too extensive or
painful. You must have done those before?"
"To be completely honest, I have managed to avoid getting my physical
examination on this ship so far. This would be my first time."
"Your first time?" The doctor look at his PADD. "But here I have reports
of your previous physical" Showing the PADD to his patient.
"Ignore the previous entries," Yus advised, "I managed to bribe Ensign
Peters to enter the data of my last physical."
"Ha...Pretty ingenious, no wounder you're chief engineer. Mr. Baxter is
very lucky to have you as his lady." He grin.
"I don't know about that," she replied, flattered. "I'm sure he regrets
marrying me on a regular basis."
"Well if he make you happy that what's improtant"
"Well, he's an excellent chocolate supplier." She smiled, just thinking
of Baxter.
"Chocolate seem very important for him" No wanting to go into the health
consequences.
"Oh yes, it's a matter of life and death. And with good reason too." She
winked.
Still looking at his tricorder " you seem in goode shape, anything to
report? Not that anyone does but I have to ask the question." He smirk.
"Apart from chocolate overdose? No." She grinned at him.
"Here come the hypospray, you're sure you have nothing to declare, last
chance" He started laughing.
She gave him a flirtatious look. "Do me in," she invited saucily.
He grin " Well, lucky guy that baxter"
"Not that way," she amended, embarrassed that he had understood her
cheeky meaning.
He started laughing trying to make her more confortable.
"Well if you don't have any questions, I would say we're finish unless
your blood test reveals anything" he started laughing.
"I'm sure it won't" He wink.
"I doubt it will, even if it is chocolate saturated," Yus assured him.
"Ok then, we're all done." He took a couple a step back and put the
tricorder back into is pocket.
"Thank you very much, doctor," Yus managed, "It wasn't as painful as I'd
expected it to be..."
"I'm always delicate with the ladies" as he look a her leave.
Another done, he was happy to meet her she seem.... interesting...Lucky
baxter, lucky baxter...
=^= Security check =^=
Baxter Mattingly looked over the sleep black ship that had just returned
to its berth. Chera had been out getting checked over by Mulder. For a
moment Baxter was jealous. Why hadn't Mulder ever checked him out?
Then he grinned at his joke. He suspect the CO didn't think all that
highly of Mr. Chera. Baxter didn't either. He thought about Striker
McLaren, the last civilian pilot to settle here for business and there
was simply no comparison. He wished Striker was back and Chera was off
somewhere, way off somewhere.
Baxter and Chera were like water and oil - one desert born, one water
born. One on the side of the law; one not. That's what bothered Baxter
really - he KNEW Chera was up to no good. He just couldn't prove it.
As Chera stepped out of the ship, Baxter approached. "Inspection," he
said.
"Oh really Commander," Jyan stated. "Your captain of the lovely
personality and a cold fish she is, has already done everything but dust
my toilet. She didn't find a thing. I'm officially certified to fly out
of here. All signed and ready to go."
Baxter ignored him. "Regulations and shipping code 90348393283kmce38ss
state that I am required to do periodic inspections of all flying vessels
docked permanently on BoB."
"You can hardly call me permanent," Jyan said. "I just got here."
"But you're certified," Baxter said. "Now you're permanent. Open up."
Jyan did and then he sat on the dock and watched the outside of his ship.
Let Mattingly search all he wanted to.
Two hours later, Baxter was flustered. He hadn't found a thing AGAIN. He
still knew there was something in here somewhere. He decided to contact a
few ship manufacturers and see what they thought. Baxter hadn't been able
to locate any manufacturer serial numbers. That was odd. Although it
wasn't odd for a smuggler's ship. He made a few notes on some of the
clues he found and then emerged from the vessel.
"You're clear, Mr. Chera," Baxter said. "I will warn you there will be
inspections at an increasing rate. You'll want to keep your nose clean."
"It's always clean," Jyan said without concern. "By the way, I've decided
to rename my ship in honor of my new home."
"And what woudldthat be?" Baxter asked.
"The Captain Mulder," he said.
Baxter almost choked.
"You see, I didn't dishonor her by not including her title, her race
being sensitive to last names without title," Jyan stated.
"She won't like it," Baxter said.
"Don't care," Jyan said, getting up and walking away. "Besides, that's
the general idea."
Baxter watched him go and sighed. How was it going to look on his reports
now? "Well, today I checked out Captain Mulder. Captain Mulder's engines
are running good. Oh, and did you notice the sleek lines of Captain
Mulder?"
"She's NOT going to like this," Baxter stated. Then the humor of the
situation descended on him and he laughed his way back to the office.
=/\=SB BoB - Outside Counselling Office =/\=
Gigi clenched her fists, and resisted the urge to punch a wall. Ever
since the vandalising of her room, she'd been building up rage inside
her, and her natural fiery temper had been close to boiling point.
It wasn't good, and she hated feeling like that, so she thought she'd try
out the new counsellor, the Puppet Man.
She tended to give people nicknames like that. The Major was Il Hombre,
of course. Baxter was Chocolate Boy or Boss Man depending on how
respectful she felt. The former counsellor had been Bat Girl - for
obvious reasons. And now, Mort was Puppet Man.
She hit the doorchime hard, and waited.
Mort was sitting at his desk, fumbling with a pile of junk trying to
create a prototype dummy, one that could be easily replicated and
distributed to his patients. He heard the chime, and activated a few
buttons to open the doors to the office. "Come on in, I'm not with
anyone," he yelled.
"Hey there," Gigi sashayed into the room. "I'm Gigi, and I want to kill
someone."
Mort looked up at the woman entering the office. "You must be looking for
Major Vaughn. The marines are three decks up. Your in luck, I hear
they're recruiting."
At the mention of the word 'marines' Gigi's hackles rose and she glared
at the room in general. "I wouldn't join the marines if Il Hombre himself
asked me whilst swinging in through my window wearing only a pair of
Speedos and singing the theme tune to Love Island." Though that was
probably not quite true, a wicked little thought popped into her mind. If
Il Hombre *did* swing in.... she blinked the delicious image away and
reverted to her complaint. "I don't wanna kill *with* someone else, I
wanna kill someone else, period."
Mort was quietly amused at the Il Hombre references, presumably meaning
the good Major. "You mean, you want to kill someone not in the line of
duty? Anyone in particular?"
"A Marine. Singular. Just the one."
Mort raised his eyebrows. "Sorry I brought up the marines, then. So, you
want to string him up?"
"String *her* up, actually. A female she-dog. And how? Any old way, I
don't care how I do it, so long as it's painful. Stab, shoot, string up,
slice, it's all good to me," she growled. "But it's bad for my career
prospects, so I want you to stop me. That's what you do, right?"
"Given I just started here, it would be pretty bad for my career
prospects if I couldn't stop you." Mort motioned to the chair in front of
his desk. "Please have a seat...Miss...?"
"Gomez, Crewman Gigi Gomez, Security." Gigi plonked herself down in the
chair.
The presence of a female security person brought back a twinge of sad
memories of Savannah McAlister, but Mort suppressed them quickly.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm acting Lieutenant Feldman,
temporary counselor. Just call me Mort."
Gigi didn't mention her private name for him and just nodded, "Mort,
sure. Nice ta meet you."
"And you as well, crewman." Mort shoved the debris pile to one side of
the desktop so he and Gigi could see each other. "Tell me a little bit
more about the trouble."
"Like I said, it's this marine woman, Lance Corporal Angel Frost. She an'
me, we met up when the snowmen were invading. We had the argument, I was
trying to save her sorry ass - wish I hadn't bothered - and she got all
snitty with me. Like I was getting in her way. man, she was *cornered*,"
Gigi was waving her arms about in agitation. "Like, overpowered.
Outnumbered. And we came along and sorted things. And did we get thanks?
No, we didn't Got told to stop interfering," Gigi scowled.
"Well, some people *are* very protective of what they see as their
'turf'. Go on."
"Yeah, well, we went
quarters, and - it's
broken my ornaments.
lip trembled. "I was
our ways, and then a few nights ago I get back to my
horrible. She'd been in there. Trashed my things.
Spray-painted the walls. Ripped my couch." Gigi's
upset, like *real* upset."
Morts expression turned to one of concern. "Oh, my. That does sound
serious. Are you sure it was this Frost person?"
"I had a sleep, and then I investigated," Gigi's head came up defiantly.
"And I found evidence, and I took it to the Boss man - Commander
Mattingly. And he believed me, and he said we'll go and see Major Vaughan
sometime soon, and report it."
"And in the meantime, I gather you fell a bit like handling the
situation, uh, personally."
Gigi's fists curled, "Right now, I'm angry - *real* angry. I don't know
if Il Hombre will do anything, anyway. Nothing could be too bad for her.
I wanna go down there and smack her about. I wanna kick her. I wanna
shoot her..."
Mort put his hands up in front of him. "Okay, lets hold back a little. It
sounds like you have every reason to be angry. It also sounds like this
marine is going to get what's coming to her via Vaughn and Mattingly.
She's in hot water--do you really feel the need to beat her up too?
"I want to do it. It would make me feel good. But I *don't* want to do it
either, coz that would put *me* in the wrong. So no, I guess I don't
wanna do it, really," Gigi sighed.
"I didn't think so. Your response to the situation proves you have better
judgement than that. Instead of doing what you felt like doing, you came
here."
"You meant like I'm chicken? Like I can't go kick marine ass?" Gigi
flared up again.
"No, I mean it, that's a good sign. Its one thing to have a temper, its
another to let it overwhelm your judgement."
"Suppose so," Gigi slumped in her chair. "I don't wanna ruin my job here.
Hey, I'm good. I'm real good." A beat. Then, "Okay, so I'm not *that*
good or I wouldn't be working here. But I'm not *bad*. And I like it
here. It works, you know? But this woman.....she really didn't wanna do
that."
"Have you had any problems with her type in the past?"
"And I always thought marines were okay before," Gigi grumbled. "I useta
stand up for them, you know? Like, if anyone badmouthed them. But now, I
don't think they're family any more. I guess it's up to Il Hombre, see
what he does."
"I'm sure the Major will come down on her pretty hard."
"But I got this rage, Mort. See my fists?" Gigi held out her hands.
"Every time I think of my trashed room, I get this urge to go punch
something. What do I gotta do to stop feeling it, eh?"
A thought struck Mort. "Listen, I got an idea. Go to the holodeck. Make a
hologram of this marine--if her personel file is in the computer it
should be no problem. Then...have at it. It can be a fair fight, or you
can just pummel the crap out of her. Either way, you'll feel better and
no harm done. Call it the rage-away workout."
"We-e-e-elll... we're not supposed to create exact hologram replicas of
other crewmembers, it's against the rules," Gigi said with some regret.
"But...there's nothing to stop me creating a blonde marine that *might*
just look a *bit* like her, is there?"
"Sure, just add some warts are something," Mort replied, grinning.
Gigi was warming to the idea, "And maybe I re-create my ruined room, and
I come in and find her, and kick her ass the way I'd have liked to if I'd
have caught her at the time, yeah?"
"Yes, that's the idea."
"I'm gonna smack the living snot out of her!" Gigi declared. "But suppose
it doesn't work?"
"If you don't feel better afterwards just come back and tell me. But my
guess is you'll feel at least a little better."
"Okay. I'll let you know. I can really get into this therapy, I reckon,"
she gave a wolfish grin.
"Wonderful." Mort stood up from his chair. "I'll be anxious to hear how
the 'fight' turns out."
"Oh, I'll tell you. Blow by blow," Gigi said with relish. "Maybe even
bring a holo-vid of the fight. We can watch it. With popcorn. or
something." She gave a shamefaced grin. "I'm not always so fight-hungry.
But this woman, she got to me. But yes, you shall hear all about it. And
if I wanna vent, I'll stop by, if that's okay?"
"Good. Come back anytime. And later, if you want to say 'hi' more
informally you are welcome at the Sing a Ding Ding club. I own the
place."
"Ohh yeah, I remember now. That place down on the Lower Promenade. That's
yours? Cool. We can get drunk and have a laugh. It's cool to know bar
owners," Gigi was hoping for a few free drinks, maybe. "If Counsellors
are allowed to drink?"
"Well, alcohol isn't normally an accepted part of the starfleet
counseling procedure but it does loosen the tounge a bit. Ta Ta!"
"Bye, Mister Mort," Gigi gave a wave. "Now I gotta get me some holodeck
time. And soon me and Boss Man will see the major, and then I'll let you
know how that goes too." She bounded out of the office, feeling a lot
more positive than when she'd entered.
=^= holodeck and beyond =^=
Keiko was running along the grass chasing a ball and laughing in delight.
Alexi was watching the door for Ann anxiously, hoping she hadn't been
pressed into further duty. In the meantime, he'd set up a big checkered
tablecloth on the grass and had brought a huge picnic basket over toward
it. A grill stood nearby ready for the meat he was going to cook.
He looked up as the scene shimmered slightly to allow Ann access.
"Come on in," he called to her. "Keiko is out running somewhere. Did you
have a good day?"
"Hello Alexi, it's good to see you again. Yes, thanks, I've had a
surprisingly peaceful day. She looked around at the setting. As this was
BoB, the air didn't *exactly* smell of green fields, but the images were
good and clear, so if she just looked, it was quite believeable.
She'd dressed casually, a pair of comfortable denim jeans and a cheerful
cerise t-shirt which set off her fair colouring. This time, she'd brushed
her hair into a simply pony-tail. She'd realised that a man like Alexi
didn't need outward fussiness on display, he was more the sort of person
who was interested in the person as a whole - which made him very high on
her list of current favourite people.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.
"Ah..." she hesitated and brought a bottle of mineral ater out of her
tote bag. "I should have thought to say... it's a little awkward, but my
body has a slight intolerance of photonic food and drink. It really
doesn't agree with me. I envisaged a simple hamper of picnic foods from
Pigs or something like that...." she trailed off, looking a little
embarassed.
Alexi laughed. "Ann," he said. "I've got real food. I'm actually cooking
it and only the scenery is holodeck style. I wanted to impress you with
my talents."
He motioned for her to sit down. "I hope that will be okay."
"Well, that's good, I'm sure that will be fine." She sat down and
unbottled her own water. "Now, do I get to meet that delightful daughter
of yours? After hearing so much about her, I'm looking forward to seeing
her."
"Keiko!" Alexi called.
In reply, Keiko came running through the grass. She was dressed in khaki
shorts and a small, very small marine T-shirt.
"Keiko, this is Ann," Alexi said.
"Hullo Keiko," Ann smiled. "You look lovely today. Quite the grown-up.
How old are you?"
"Six, Ma'am," Keiko replied sweetly, her black eyes smiling at Ann. "I
like the way you're wearing your hair. Do you have any children?"
"I don't have a little girl, but I do have a little boy," she laughed,
"Actually, he's not so little, He's twenty years old and as tall as I am.
But he's still my little boy to me. You'll be as tall as your father one
day, too, I expect."
Keiko grinned, pleased at the thought.
"I hope she doesn't get that tall," Alexi said. "She'll eat me out of
house and home."
"And what do you plan to be when you grow up?" Ann asked.
"A marine," Keiko said simply.
Alexi winked at Ann. "She has a collection of marine dolls," he said,
pointing to a tree where six marine dolls stood at attention.
"They're on manyovers," Keiko said.
"Maneuvers," Alexi mouthed.
"If you have a son," Keiko said, "then you must know how to play ball.
Would you play with me while Daddy cooks?"
Ann laughed as she jumped to her feet, "I'm an expert at fotball, can do
a reasonable rugby tackle - though that may be due to crewing on the
Enforcer more than childhood games - I can swing a bat at rounders and
manage tennis. But just don't ask me to play cricket as I'd rather watch
paint dry. I think football would be best, if your father approves," she
added with a teasing grin.
"Go ahead, Ann," he said. "I'll put the steaks on."
He began the processes of cooking as he watched Keiko take Ann's hand and
show her to the ball. It was a nice size for a child to handle. Keiko
picked it up and tossed it to Ann.
"Do you really work on one of those big ships?" she asked.
"I do," Ann dropped the ball to her feet, did a little keepy-up, and set
off, dribbling it slowly, "Come alongside me, Keiko, and then I'll pass
it to you. Yes, the USS Enforcer. You'll recognise it by the huge red
dragon painted on the front. Many of the crew are Welsh, including the
Captain, and we did that as a sort of tribute. The Red Dragon is the
emblem of Wales. It's only a pity I can't see it whilst I'm at my
console. It's quite fun."
"To you," Ann slid the ball over to Keiko's feet as they continued a slow
run.
"What does your son do all day when you're at work?" she asked.
"Morrie works the same sort of department I do - he's an Operations
crewman right here on Starbase BoB. And what do you do during the day?"
"I go to school," Keiko said. "I've made some new friends here and we're
going to have a tea party tomorrow."
"That all sounds very civilised and grown-up," Ann recieved the ball
back, "Are you looking forward to it?"
"We don't like tea though," she said. "We're having hot chocolate."
"And why not, indeed, if you want hot chocolate that sounds like a very
good plan to me," Ann gave the ball a little side-kick back to Keiko as
they'd run rearly a full circle
The game of football progressed until Alexi announced lunch was served.
The meal was fairly gobbled by Keiko who suddenly jumped up as voices
were heard. In came five girls her age. There was the chaos of giggling
and chatting and then the girls ran off with the ball.
Alexi sighed. "I invited Keiko's friends so we'd have time alone. Selfish
do you think?"
"Not at all," Ann replied promptly. "Children that age can only get so
much from adult company. They need to be able to mingle with their own
peers too. I think you're a very thoughtful father indeed."
"How's everything taste?" he asked.
"The sandwiches are excellent, I always enjoy take-outs from Pigs. So
fresh," Ann smiled. "And I believe the pastries were from D'Eath's
bakery?"
"How'd you know that?" he asked.
"Ahh, it doesn't take long on BoB to find out where the best places to
get food are. I can tell a D'Eath's pastry blindfold," Ann grinned. She'd
only taken the smallest pieces of meat, as photonic cooking didn't quite
agree with her either, but hadn't wanted to refuse the food altogether
since Alexi had gone to so much trouble.
"I'm sorry about the cooking," he said. "Next time, real food only."
"The meat is delicious, you're clearly an excellent cook, but it's the
photoic barbeque, I find that it gives the food a little edge that
doesn't quite go down so well. I don't know *why* I have this wretched
intolerance, just one of those annoying little quirks of nature, I
guess," Ann gave a philosophical shrug. "I would have mentioned it
earlier, but you'd said picnic." She gave a quiet laugh, "This is a
picnic," she pointed to the basket, "And that is a Barbeque," she pointed
to the grill. "I think there's a bit of miscommunication here, as I
wouldn't normally expect the two combined, you see."
"Not anymore so than when Americans and Britons got together hundreds of
years ago," Alexi laughed. "American combine the two. It's rather
confusing, isn't it?"
"The beauty of of multi-cultural mingling," she laughed. "Don't worry,
I'm sure you're not trying to poison me. Yet..." she winked.
"Ann," he said, "the last thing I want to do is poison you, especially
before you've tried my peach cobbler."
He passed a plate to her.
"So tell me a little more about yourself, Alexi," Ann sat back,
pleasantly full from the picnic food. "I have the feeling that you and I
share a lot of common values, but have a lot of differences too. I find
it fascinating. I find *you* fascinating, if you don't my saying so," she
gave a demure smile.
"I'm delighted to hear you say so," he said, "because I'm finding you
equally delightful. However, you're expecting me to talk about myself and
I don't do that very well. Let me give it a try, though."
He looked toward the little girls to make sure they were playing sweetly
and turned back to her. "I like to be outdoors. I enjoy hiking, walking,
being in the woods and the wilds. And I like animals. There's something
about nature that's always been appealing to me and it's sometimes
difficult to be in space so much. How about you?"
"I agree, "Ann smiled. "Fresh air on a planet - especially after the
rigours of ship duty for a length of time - is the most marvellous scent
on earth. Especially by the sea. My family still live in a little
villiage called Corfe, in the shadow of the ruins of Corfe castle, in
Dorset. It's only a couple of miles to Studland Beach, and hearing the
waves crash onto the sand is soothing, relxaing, and invigorating at the
same time."
She enjoyed some of the peach cobbler, "That's me, then. Now more about
you."
"Let's see, I can also be mean," he said. "I'm a stickler for the rules
and I'll see that they're enforced. It's not because I'm harsh, but
because some of those rules, maybe all of them, in the military are
designed to save lives - lives of soldiers, lives of those around them.
I'm tough that way. Has that scared you off?"
"After serving under Captain cadwallader these last few years?" Ann
laughed. "Nothing scares me. She's laid back on the surface but she rules
that ship with a look of iron if anyone crosses her. And out XO,
Commander ap Williams, is - I believe - ex Marine himself, way way back.
Before he saw the light, he tells us," she chuckled. "It's a very quirky
ship, but thwne the chips are down, it's to regulations and chain of
command every inch of the way. It keeps us ordered and it keeps us safe.
There's comfort in that, despite the fact that the universe might be
disintegrating around us. You know what I mean?"
"Yes, I do," he said. "It's a comforting routine. One that allows for the
most efficiency when working together."
"I thought you'd understand. That's our life-raft, it frees our minds so
we can concentrate on solving problems and coming up with solutions." She
put her empty plate down. "Now that was a treat, too. Where did you learn
to cook?"
"In the marines," he laughed. "I discovered I enjoyed it. Once on a very
boring chunk of rock I even cooked weekly dinners for the marines
stationed there. Do you cook?"
"I'm not the best cook in the world," she cheerfully admitted. "I can do
a few special dishes, and I can fix meals - assemble things - remarkably
well. I'm told I do great snack lunches. But I don't have the patience to
be chopping things and blending things. I do enjoy home-cooked though, so
long as it isn't always me that has to cook it."
"Then you'd be in luck with me," he said boldly.
"And what other talents do you have, Alexi," she grinned. "You're a man
of many surprises, I'm thinking."
"Well, there is one talent I'd like to try out, but you'll have to be the
judge of whether or not I'm truly any good at it," he said as he leaned
closer to her and gently kissed her.
Ann kissed him back just as lightly, more out of surprise than anything
else, then chuckled quietly. "Now that's what I call a definite talent
worth working at."
"Perhaps I should work on it," he stated.
Ann looked down demurely, then gave him a cheeky look and said directly,
"I'd be delighted to give you an appraisal any time."
"Ann," he said, "I know this is awkward, with you serving on a ship and
me attached to Gamma Fleet and wandering here and there, but, I'd like to
keep seeing you as much as possible. I've never met anyone like you
before and I'm not willing to let you disappear into space. What do you
think?"
It didn't take her more than a heartbeat to nod, "I'd like that too.
We're both independant people, but I think we've really connected, and
I'd love to find out more about you, spend more time with you, and
just...be a part of your life, and see where it goes. I can't think of
anything I'd like more."
"Agreed," he said with marine crispness and then caught himself and
smiled. "Sorry, at least I didn't expect you to salute." He grinned.
"I guess...we ought to be packing up," Ann gave a regretful sigh. "I have
some prep to do tomorrow as we're shipping out in the morning - only
routine patrol though, so we'll be scheduled back here in a couple of
months at the most, maybe less."
"So soon," Alexi said. "I was hoping for a couple more days."
She turned a smiling face towards him, "Somehow, I think we'll manage to
keep in touch just fine. Lots of people do. Isn't that what long-range
communications channels were invented for?"
"Yes, but how will I practice?" he asked, looking to see that the girls
were still playing.
"With difficulty," Ann chuckled. "But I'm not *quite* gone yet...."
"I'll just have to try one more time now then," he added, bringing her
closer again and kissing her in a fashion to show he was indeed
interested and wasn't kissing his sister.
From behind them they heard . "Euuuuwuwww."
Alexi turned and saw the girls lined up in a row watching them. "Someday
your prince will come," he told the girls.
Ann just laughed quietly, "Make the most of it, Alexi. Before you know
it, she'll be doing the same, and then it'll be *you* complaining - and I
expect you'll find that no-one is quite good enough for your little girl.
No-one ever is.."
Alexi agreed. "Yes, I know you're right. She'll be dating marines, which
will be even worse."
"They always grow up too fast," Ann stretched and got to her feet. "Much
as I hate to say it, it's really time to be going."
"Okay, everyone help gather up the loot," he said. "We'll stop and get
ice cream on the way home."
The girls turned in a wonderful workforce.
"Ann," he said. "Can I see you tonight before you leave?"
"Why not?" she gave a relxaed, beaming smile. "Like I mentioned before life can be all too unexpectedly short in this service, and the only way
to stay sane is to enjoy the moments as they come, when they come. Let's
have a wonderful time, and make the most of every minute."
"Shall I pick you up?" he asked.
"I'll meet you there, I'll try to get away on time, but if I'm late,
forgive me. I should make it though. Knowing I have the pleasure of your
company this evening will be an excellent incentive to work twice as
fast."
"Wonderful," he said. "Instead of here though, meet me on the promenade
by Pigs. I'll wait there."
"Until tonight, Alexi," she held his hand warmly for a moment. "Goodbye
girls, it was lovely meeting you. Keiko, you have a future as a
footballer if you ever change your mind about being a marine."
"See you soon," Keiko waved, eager for ice cream. "Are we adding her to
the family Daddy," she added as Ann left.
Alexi grinned. "You never know, Keiko," he said. "It's a little early to
tell yet."
The girls giggled and Alexi herded them out for ice cream.
=^= Capt. Mulder's office =^=
Jyan Chera was dressed about as fishy as you could and still walk on
land. He knew it would drive Capt. Mulder nuts. That was becoming Jyan's
hobby. The officer didn't like him. It was like a magnet to him. Of
course, Lt. Cdr. Mattingly didn't like him either, but he wasn't nearly
as much fun.
Thus, Jyan arrived at the CO's office for an appointment he'd made to
complain about the security department's rough handling of himself. The
fact that he had to sit and wait for her didn't bother him in the least.
He read a video magazine about deep sea exploration. He laughed through
most of it.
Mulder wasn't in her office at that moment. She'd taken a trip down the
stairs and along the Promenade to get a snack.
Walking back up the stairs, she gave an inward sigh at the sight of Jyan
Chera sitting on the walkway outside her office door.
"I suppose you want to see me? Or maybe you just like sitting on metal
floors?" she didn't hide her impatience. "And I also suppose you'd better
come in. She opened the door and walked through.
"I have a complaint, Captain," Jyan said sitting down without being
asked. "I won't take up much of your time."
"That's right, you won't. What is it?"
"As lovely as BoB is," he said, ignoring her comment, "your security
department seems to have plenty of time to harrass civilians."
"Good. Remind me to give Mister Mattingly a raise." Mulder smirked. "And
what is the nature of the complaint, exactly?"
"I'm subjected to constant inspections and I haven't gone anywhere at
all," Jyan continued. "Every time I get on or off Captain Mulder, I get
searched."
Mulder just blinked, then a low growl was heard. It *might* have been
Sherlock from the corner.. but then again, it might not....
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" he asked. "I've renamed my vessel. I thought it
was quite appropriate."
Mulder's eyes narrowed, "You know, you're a classic example of the
inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain."
Jyan's eyes narrowed. "Indeed," he said. "Captain, I assure you the size
of all my body parts are normal, except one, which is larger than most."
He paused. "My ego, that is, but irregardless of what you think, I plan
to have a christening ceremony soon. Want to come?" he asked.
Mulder drew her phaser, levelled it at him, and then regretfully reholstered it. "Fortunately for you, vaporization without representation
is against the Federation Constitution."
Jyan didn't even blink. "Yes, it's most fortunate for me, unfortunate for
you." He looked around her office with no worries and continued. "As I
was saying, Mattingly is a royal pain and my rights of a free-moving
civilian are being threatened," Jyan said. "There is no evidence that I
have ever or am now engaging in anything illegal. I demand fair
treatment, or is that something that isn't found on BoB. Something to do
with my race perhaps?"
"I doubt it, he's not Jaz'Aarian," Mulder said haughtily. "He does,
however, have a innate sense of knowing when someone is a no-good
scuzzball."
"I shall take that as a compliment, shall I?" he smiled. "You cannot deny
though that you are prejudiced because of my race and that you dislike
me."
"Of course I dislike you because of your race. I dislike *everyone*
because of their race. It's in my genes," Mulder said with absolute
sincerity. "I'm not good in social groups... It's difficult to work in a
group when you're vastly superior. But I make the effort. All races are
equally inferior, but some are less inferior than others," she finished
with a mangled paraphrase.
"So because I'm what I am, I am more inferior in the total line-up of
inferior races you deal with every day?" he asked.
"Ah, You're improving," Mulder smirked.
"Therefore," he said, again ignoring her comment, "you despise me, my
race and everyone in the universe who isn't from your own very special
race."
"Yes. Your mind is beginning to work. It's entirely due to my influence,
of course, you must not take any credit."
"Want to bet?" he asked sweetly. "The fact is Captain that people have
certain rights in the Gamma Fleet world and if this harrassment doesn't
stop I shall contact Gamma Fleet's legal department and make it stop. Do
you understand?"
"Try it," she said blithely. "You don't want to know the sort of thing
our command team has already got official reprimands for. And we don't
worry overmuch about adding to them. Run and cry that everyone hates you
if you like. You won't last long here if you do." Her voice went cold,
"And the reason you'e not trusted is because you've got an attitude, and
more importantly my Security Chief doesn't trust you. That's plenty good
enough for me. If *he* doesn't trust you, it means you're up to no good."
"Until I break the law, Captain, you had best keep your security hound
off my tail," Jyan stated. "And I've had it with you as well. You and
your race aren't superior, you just think you are. It's time you pulled
your head out of the sand and looked around. Races are different, but
none is truly superior. I, for instance, could beat you at anything."
"Anything? No, you couldn't," Mulder said calmly. "You could only beat me
at things you were more skilled at. Did you have something in mind?"
"Tennis," he said.
"Quite likely. I don't play tennis. Would it help massaage your fragile
male ego to prove it?"
"Now," he said.
"No thanks."
"Chicken?" he asked.
"No. Not Interested. If it helps your feelings, assume that you would
have won." Mulder smirked, "There's a knack of being successful. Pick
your battles wisely. Don't get into irrelevant fights that you can't win.
Accept that there are some skills that others will surpass you at, and
only attempt them if you can be bothered. I save my energy for picking
fights with the Big Boys - for the Big Reasons."
She switched on her console. Chera was becoming exceedingly tiresome. But
maybe if he was here for longer, he'd understand how things happened. How
most of the time people were so busy trying to stay alive that petty
gripes didn't even matter any more.
"And what was your idea for a prize? A star interview and photoshoot for
Starfleet Strange & Unusual?"
"No, for lunch afterward," he stated. "There's a special at Pigs."
"How ghastly," she said lightly. "Not lunch at Pigs, but the thought of
lunch with someone so disrespectful." Suddenly her arguments with Vaughan
seemed almost poetic by comparison, then she realised why. He always
respected the chain of command - at least openly - even when he was at
his most agressive. Chera had insulted her race, and that put him right
at the bottom of the pile in her opinion now. The fact that she had by
default insulted his species didn't count, in her mind, because she
considered herself an Equal Opportunities Insulter.
"So, have you done complaining?"
Jyan sat there smiling and then he stood up. slowly, pushing his gills
out so she could see them.
"Yes, Captain, I do believe I have finished this enlightening
conversation in which you displayed so much warmth and understanding to a
simple merchant. You shall no longer hear any complaints from me. Thank
you so kindly for your time. And I bid you a good day."
~It'll be a better day once you walk out of the door~ Mulder silently
thought, but just gave him a patently insincere smile.
Jyan continued to smile, made his way to the door and then left. Outside
he said to no one in particular, "I won't be complaining, Captain. I'll
be doing something about it. Don't want to be a whiner, after all."
He headed off to talk to the merchants organization ....
=^= BoB - Promenade =^=
"Unbelievable," the fat merchant said leaning back in his chair. "She
actually said that to you."
"Yes," Jyan Chera stated truthfully for once. "And, of course, you can
check the records of the times I've been searched."
"Within the law," the green-skinned trader stated. "Commander Mattingly
is always within the law."
"Yes, of course," Jyan said. "It's just, gentlemen, that if they can do
this to me, what's to stop them from doing it to you? I'm sure most of
you have, occasionally, had some little thing you'd like to bring in and
avoid the taxes. It happens. You're doing someone a favor. That kind of
thing. It's not really unlawful, but you'd rather people didn't know. If
things get more strict here, business will go down the sewer."
There was some mumbling of agreement in the background.
"What should we do?" one asked.
"Let me tell you," Jyan said. "Let me tell you."
******
Outside on the promenade, shops were closed, shipping came to a halt and
various merchants of assorted sizes and colors, began to walk up and down
carrying signs of protest. "Security over-zealous" - "Mulder unfair to
merchants" - "Don't blame us if prices go up, blame the establishment."
They were attracting a lot of attention. They attracted the attention of
Baxter Mattingly who had to send in extra security personnel to keep
things quiet. They had a parade license. He couldn't stop them.
"Babe Sir," Baxter said over the comm. "Something smells fishy on the
promenade. I think you might want to take a look."
Mulder gave a huge sigh. Fishy. Right. She didn't have to ask any more.
"I'm on my way."
***
Jyan Chera was not holding up a sign. He was sitting at a cafe watching
the general chaos the merchants' meeting was creating. He raised a glass
of iced tea and said, "This one's for you, Captain."
"Oh dear. Bad, bad move, Mister Chera," Mulder wasn't looking very
concerned, which should have been a worrying sign to anyone who knew her.
"Your doing, I take it?"
"I just mentioned a little troubled I'd been having with shipments," Jyan
said.
"I'm not sure what you hope to achieve here, besides causing bad
feeling."
"Well Captain, I'm sure you can handle a little bad feeling," he said.
"Nono, you misunderstand me. Bad feeling for *you*," she gave a knowing
smile.
"For me?" Jiyan asked.
Baxter wandered over smiling. Several young women were now joining the
merchants with the signs.
"Ah, Commander Mattingly," Mulder gave Baxter a chirpy smile. "I was just
about to explain to Mister Chera here why interfering in BoB's usually
quiet, well-ordered running of things wasn't such a good idea. It fact,
it's such a Not-Good idea that it will backfire."
"Naturally," Baxter said.
"I don't mind if you arrest him, or do whatever you want with him. You're
the Security Chief, it's your call," she remained vastly unperturbed.
"But I suggest we let the rabble disperse first."
"Oh, I don't think I'll need to arrest him," Baxter said. "I think we can
just let things take a natural course. Strictly speaking code 94338
allows civilians to protest with license. He has license."
"Watch and learn, Mister Chera," Mulder stood back, and let the people
who had been slowly advancing be seen. "BoB takes care of its own
business."
Mrs Comfort waddled towards them, majestic in her garish finery, with an
even more majestic wooden spoon in her hand. Behind her, the diminutive
Mr Comfort seemed several feet taller due to the large meat cleaver he
was holding in a practised way.
"You!" Mrs Comfort boomed at a surprised merchant. "You want to disrupt
our business? If you don't stop this nonsense right away, that's the last
trade you'll get from *my* establishment. There's couriers begging for
work in this sector...want to be one of them?" she slapped the wooden
spoon against the palm of her hand.
The merchant was appalled. "Mrs. Comfort," he began to his best customer.
"I didn't mean to cause your business any discomfort. I, well." He tossed
the sign away. "See, it's all settled now."
From across the way, Mr Casket appeared in his shop doorway, looking at
the group - and Chera in particular - whilst holding a large tape measure
with meaningful intent.
Tottering down on her high heels came Miss Celeste Starr, the proprietor
of Heavenly Bodies Beauty Salon, wielding a pair of curling tongs that
had a disturbingly glowing red tip.
A hiss was heard as Sybil the Sayl'reth, her spikes at the back of her
head fully extended - a terrifying sight in itself, even without the pair
of garden shears she was holding with menace. "You have trouble, lady
captain? Sssayl'reth do not like trouble...on promenade. Esssspecially
when deliveriesss are late.." the sharp implements pointed in the
direction of another merchant, who was quite beginning to get the point,
although he hoped not literally.
"Late?" the merchant beside her said. "Didn't I deliver your shipment
yet? Oh my. I'll just go get it now." He hurried off.
Around the quad merchants with signs were dropping like flies. They fled.
It was one thing to have freedom from searching. It was quite another
thing to have one's customers upset and threatening to go elsewhere,
after all, Mr. Chera was new. In less than 15 minutes the protest was no
more. Security officers picked up the signs.
Jyan Chera was amazed. He now knew the reason why BoB was at it was.
"My apologies, Captain, Mr. Mattingly," he said. "However, you have been
pressuring me."
"But not out of legal bounds," Baxter said. "If you want war, Mr. Chera
..."
"No," Jyan said, "not war. Amusement perhaps, but not war. Please, let me
buy you both a drink. Hot chocolate? Tea?"
Baxter looked at Mulder. "Sir?"
"You can if you wish, Commander," Mulder was happy to let Baxter have a
quiet word with Chera. The point had been made. Her Security Chief could
hammer it home in his own way. "I've got work to do."
"Come on Captain," Jyan said. "Be a good sport."
Mulder leaned in to him and said very quietly, "BoB sticks together,
Mister Chera. That's how we survive. The irony is, we're probably all
bigger lawbreakers than you could ever be in your hottest dreams. But
there's a reason why it works for us and not for you. And when you've
figured out why.... then - and only then - you'll be a BoBer too."
She moved away, gave an almost imperceptible a wink in Baxters direction,
and left them to it.
=Hadrian's Wall - USS Caledonia=
"That's twelve barstools then?" Harlan tagged the item of his list when
Bill nodded.
The Security Officer surveyed the room with critical eye. The raid on the
Abode had definitely improved the looks of the place. Even though a table
football had been impossible to find, Harlan had managed to get a Pro
Dart board and several sets of darts in one of the shops on the promenade
before the Caly left. He was quite satisfied with how things had worked
out on this particular issue. Chess had given permission, Bills
programming was pretty much done and working, and the place looked...
good. Dim lightning, pool table, large bar, just grand to get decently
hammered.
A tall rangy figure appeared in the doorway in a cloud of smoke from the
cheroot hanging from her lips. "Well lookee here, all done an' sorted,
an' I didn't even git ta lend a hand...."
Harlan turned to Jinti and blushed. "Oh crap. Jin, I completely
forgot..." he mumbled, annoyed with himself. And he meant it. With
everything that happened the days before departure, his appointment with
her had completely slipped through the cracks of his memory.
"Ya stood me up, bud," she took a smoke. "An' I wuz all ready ta roll on
yer scavenger hunt. Wassup? Changed yer mind 'bout me?"
"No. I just... I had... There's been... stuff" he said rather lamely. "I
got permission from Myers." he added. As if that would have anything to
do with anything.
"Stuff?" Jinti wasn't letting him off the hook *that* easily. "Stuff?
Musta been pretty serious stuff..."
"A woman, if you must know" Harlan replied, blushing and turning to face
Bill, who was simply grinning, apparently enjoying the situation. "Don't
you have stuff to do?" Harlan growled, feeling slightly cornered.
"Sure, sure" Bill replied smirking and turned to Jinti. "What can I get
you today?" he said, winking and placing an empty long glass on the
counter. "On your tab, I s'pose?" he sideglanced at Harlan, grinning
wide.
"Screw you." Harlan replied, but had to grin against his will. "Yeah. On
my tab." he then added.
"Ta, that'll help," Jinti took her drink before anyone could change their
mind. "So ya got wimmin trouble? How'd ya manage that? We were only there
a few weeks an' ya didn't have wimmin trouble afore we landed. Ya bin out
tom-cattin', ya randy devil?"
Harlan shrugged. He wasn't too eager to go into details, but gave in
nonetheless. "I would hardly call it tom-catting. Haven't done any tomcatting in ages. Beats me why..." his voice trailed off and fell into the
small, half filled shot glass in front of him.
"Eh, plenty of folks go tom-cattin' around when they'z on shore leave,"
Jinti shrugged. "Well, *some* do. Take that ol' Dezza, fer instance. I
heard things, ya know.." she tapped the side of her nose knowingly.
"There's bin some talk in the joints I hang out in." Which was true - the
sort of dark bars Jinti frequented were a hotbed of low-life gossip.
"Apparently, she's bin gettin' laid like it wuz an Olympic Sport. If
screwing were an official entry, an' she'd have bin our representative,
then the Caly woulda had it's first Gold Medal."
Harlan remained in stung silence. Of course he knew that Des had been...
living the night, to brand it somehow. Tols visit, her attitude at the
bar with that guy. But Jinti was wrong. What she saw as screwing for the
fun of it had been an act of desperation. It had been a loss of control,
a cry for help, call it what you will. Definitely not tom-catting. He
knew it. She had told him without words. He had felt it.
Jinti carried on oblivious, "I guess it's always the quiet ones ya gotta
watch. Droopy-drawers Des, thass whut she is. One helluva way ta
celebrate yer freedom from Starfleet, huh?"
"You've no idea..." Harlan finally replied quizzically, a flame of
annoyance creeping up inside him.
"So whut about you, bud? Who you been tom-cattin' with, and why's ya all
in a tizzy over it, huh?" Jinti held her glass out hopefully.
Harlan looked down into his glass, then smiled at Jin. It wasn't a nice
smile, more of the sort Sheydra would show to the crew, where she not
genetically modified and in a spaceship lightyears away from her natural
habitat.
"Incidentally, with the gold medal herself." he said mirthlessly,
throwing a sharp glance at the Pilot before turning to Bill. "Fill it up,
willya?" He pointed at both glasses.
Even though she'd already finished her drink, Jinti still spluttered in
astonishment. "Ya had a go there too? Blimey O'Reilly, an' that's how ya
got wimmin troubles?"
Harlan nodded slowly. "Yep. That's how it is." he replied with increasing
annoyance.
"Whut did ya do? Take a number an' wait in line?" Jinti looked at him,
still totally bemused. "So whuts the problem anyways? A farewell f .....fling ain't the end o'the world, is it? T'ain't like yer an item or
anythin'. If'n someone's handin' it out on a plate, then ya cain't blame
yerself fer grabbin' a free bite to eat. Ya don't gotta feel guilty 'bout
it."
"Has it ever occurred to you that things are not always what they look
like?" Harlan countered sharply. Jin surely had not meant ill, but he
wasn't in the mood to let her off the hook that quickly.
"Things often ain't whut they look like, but I ain't no head-shrink, so I
don't go guessin' whut things *might* be, I jist says things the way they
happen, an' how they happen'." Jinti gave a cheerful shrug."An' that's
the facts of whut happened. Ya mean there's more to it than that?"
"If you really wanna know..." A tiny, tiny
Harlan turned to Jin with a sigh and began
detail what had happened. He left out Tols
purpose, not wanting to give Jin more food
impossible though to hide at least part of
had provoked in him.
bit soothed by her enquiry,
to explain without too much
visit and his reason for it on
for the rumourmill. It was
the turmoil of feelings she
Jinti took a hefty slug of her drink, still surprised at Harlan's
involvement. "So lemme get this straight, ya bin havin' a crush on Dezza
fer a while now? An' when ya found her drunk in a bar, ya got cozy with
her? An' then ya went an' copped off with her? An' now ya miss her?"
Jinti wanted to make sure she'd got the whole tale straight in her mind.
Harlan... who'd have thought it?
"It's not like that at all, mind
caught himself. Why was her talk
knew nothing about anything, saw
had to admit, from anywhere else
that.
you." Harlan retorted angrily, then
making him angry in the first place? She
things from another perspective. And he
but him and Des.., crap, it looked like
"I had no intention of getting "cozy", as you so bluntly put it. She
needed a friend, and I... I listened to her. And she needed me, even if
it was for just a moment. The rest just sorta... happened. But what would
you know about it anyway?" he said with bitterness.
"You've seem to forget how you felt when your precious Eddie left without
as much as a bloody note..." he bit his tongue on the last sentence, but
then looked defiantly at Jinti. She wasn't precisely being soft either,
so she might as well cope with it.
"Eh? Sure, I was all tore up. At first. But me an' Edie wuz a couple,
proper an' all. He jist decided ta bugger off without tellin' me, coz he
wuz a cowardly ratfink. So that wuz diff'rent. It ain't got nuthin' ta do
with that."
"It's got everything to do. That's what happened to her as well. And I...
I... I did what I thought was right. So what if I had a crush on her? She
hadn't. Period. End of story. In the end of the day, she felt much better
when she left. Liberated almost, I think. I made it easier for her.
That's all that matters." he replied, heatedly at first, then slowly
ebbing away, until he muttered the last words into his glass.
"All that matters." he repeated grumbling and downed his drink.
Jinti just looked at him, then just shook her head very slowly. "Bud, ya
shore surprised me, an' that's the truth. Ya don't seem the sort ta chase
skirt, leastaways, not yer crewmates. But she's gone, right? An' so yer
gonna haveta get over her, aintcha?"
Harlan raised his shoulders and grumbled. "I don't have to do bollocks.
There's nothing to get over really. It's not like she dumped me or
anything. We were friends, even then. Besides" he stood up and leant
against the bar and surveyed the room with an intensity worthy of a
mesmerizer during his show.
"I don't see why everything's got to be all peachy all the time. Don't
you ever feel like you wanna hit something, cuz nothing you do seems to
go right?" Harlan said angrily without looking at her. Angry at himself
for acting like a child who didn't get his favorite toy for christmas.
Come to think of it, he was acting like a kid a lot lately.
"Well, I wuz broke up when Eddie walked out last year, an' *I* didn't
even get a goin'-away present... but ya know, shit happens, an' if'n they
don't wanna stay then they don't wanna stay." That was the nearest to
philosophy Jinti could get. "Best ya works through it."
"Yeah" Harlan grumbled, looking at his fingers. "Question is, how?"
"Getting drunk and gettin' in a fight usually works fer me.." she said
brightly.
Harlan shook his head. "Nah. Don't feel like it. Only makes me think
more. I just want something good to happen for a change, you know?
Without it being ruined by twice as much bad things following up
immediately. Is that too much to ask for?" he turned to Jinti with a
helpless look on his face.
Jinti scratched her head, "Ya sure ain't a happy bunny. In fact, ya ain't
as happy as ya useta be. Whut's up? I mean, it ain't never much fun when
someone walks out on ya, but that's *their* loss, whens alls said an'
done. An' sure, we got loads of bad times, but they ain't always bad.
last time wuz even more of a success, leasaways, by *our* standards it
wuz a success. We didn't even haveta kill anybody." She thought hard for
a moment. "Mebbe it's jist you," was all she could come up with.
"I didn't used to be like this, you know?" Harlan muttered. "I used to
give a shit about all of this. Had cash in my pocket and a good time all
around. Didn't care about all those morons running behind their
responsibilities, only having the next promotion and keeping their nose
clean and deep enough in their superiors arses. I had women whenever I
wanted however I wanted, and I didn't give a rats ass about what anyone
thought about me. What the feck happened then?" he sighed.
"You know, these days I'd just love to tell everyone to stick it, take my
gear and bugger off to somewhere new. Dunno, maybe renting a ship and
start smuggling or something like that. Be my own boss. Instead, here I
am, wondering why a women I felt something for left, wondering how the
hell I ended up in a command team, waiting for disaster to strike and
show everyone what a wuss I've turned to be." Harlan had forgotten Jintis
presence alltogether, and grew angrier with every word, hitting the wall
with his fist with the final word.
For a moment he said nothing, just watching the scratched and blackening
knuckles.
Jinti knew well enough to recognise when someone just...needed to say
something. Out loud. She jerked her head towards Bill, indicating that he
should refill their glasses, pronto.
"Ya feel better fer gettin' it of yer chest?"
Harlan swirled around, acknowledging Jintis presence. He was about to
snap back, but instead he sagged into the stool and nodded. "I guess" he
grumbled.
"Mebbe youz changin'," Jinti said thoughtfully. "Like, things ain't the
same as they wuz before. An' youz goin' down a diff'rent path. An' that
can be right scary."
"Horsecrap" Harlan muttered stubbornly. "It's not me changing. It's
everything else that doesn't stay like it should."
"Well, thingz is changin' all the time fer ya," Jinti said, still
thinking hard. "Like, youz survived ole Friday, even though it near broke
ya. Thass gotta be a sign o'someone comin' through the fire. Ya didn't
run away. Ya stayed and rode it hard. An' now youz a proper officer, an'
you ain't never bin one of them before. Thass sumthin' new fer ya too.
Yeah, youz mebbe gettin'...stronger an' better. That's a *real* scary
notion, ain't it?"
Harlan felt strangely soothed by Jintis words. Apart from feeding his
ego, there was a tiny bit of truth in them. He had survived Friday and
stuck around. And he had never before made it to full lieutenant, let
alone be more then a simple department assistant. Still, that wasn't
really it, it was more like... circumstantial. Fact is, whatever he
seemed to try, went wrong. Which would've been really bad, not only for
him, but for everyone around him if he weren't that damn lucky at times.
His face hardened again.
"Is you scared to be happy?" Jinti asked out of the blue, not really
knowing what she was saying, but some instinct deep inside her prompting
it. "I meanz, are ya hidin' behind the thoughts that sumthin' awful is
gonna happen, coz thataways ya don't haveta think that right now,
*mostly* good stuff is happenin'..."
Harlan growled and turned away. "What's good stuff for you?" he then
grumbled. "I can't seem to do two things right in a row. I ain't got Des,
and I most certainly ain't got the post and promo for the right reasons.
Just 'cuz I give a crap about rules and Myers seems to have the delusion
that that'll work right for this ship."
"Pffft... Dezza Schmezza...if'n someone don't wanna stick around then
they ain't right for ya an' it ain't no loss ta lose someone whut ain't
right for ya," Jinti waved his heart away. "An' the Cap'n wouldn't be a
Cap'n if'n she always got things wrong, so mebbe she got it right an' yer
too scared ta see it that way. Either way, you ain't helpin' yerself by
whinin' like a baby 'bout life."
Harlan looked up angrily. No one had ever call him a whiner. He had
thrown away a lot and never regretted it. He had been on the right and
wrong side of the law and never regret it. He had been in countless
fights, with or without uniform and never run away from it. And she was
calling him a whiner??
"I beg your pardon" He hissed with a tone that made a cryogenic chamber
look like an average day in the heart of the Sahara.
Jinti stared him out. If he wanted a face-down, then he could have it.
"Ya heard, baby," she shot back at him. "Call yerself a rufty-tufy
security chief? Yer a jist scaredy-cat l'il whiner."
"I. don't. whine" Harlan replied hissing, clenching his fists. "I've
kicked peoples butt for much less then that, pilot."
"Ohhh right, so I called ya out an' ya gotta thump me now, yeah?" Jinti's
fists clenched too. "Ya wanna ruck, bud, ya got it. Only don't ya go
*whinin'* when I kick yer ass right back. I don't even get a name now?
I'z jist scum, is I?"
"What the bleeding hell are you talking about, pilot?" Harlan hissed,
taking a couple of furious steps towards Jinti.
She met him and they stood almost nose to nose, "You sez we're mates
again, then when I sez things ya don't like, ya threatens ta punch me
out. I'z jist 'pilot' ta you, yeah? I ain't a person, I'z jist a *thing*
to you. Sumthin' ya don't like, so ya can just punch it away? Yeah? Thass
whut you said."
Harlan's eyes opened wide with her words. Fucking hell. She was right. He
had said that. Everything of it. He was buried so deep in self pity he
hadn't realized. His hands relaxed and so did his face. He sat down in
silence and took the shot glass from the counter. He looked at it for a
second, shrugged and threw the content down his throat.
"Can... Can you give me a minute, Jin?" he finally muttered.
Her face unreadable, she shrugged and downed her own drink. "Glad ya got
yer memory back," she said after a heavy pause. There was no anger in her
tone any more, the words were almost said sympathetically. "I'z gotta go
anyways. See ya around."
She stuck her hands in her pockets and mooched off towards the exit.
"Jin?" he said when she reached the door. ""Thanks, mate" he said,
attempting a grin, which only half succeeded in appearing.
She gave a very similar quirky half-smile back. "Ain't no thing," she
raised a hand in farewell, and left Harlan to his own thoughts.
When the doors closed behind Jinti, Harlan turned to Bill. "I's shore
changed, hasn't I?" he said, to which Bill just shrugged.
"I wouldn't know, Leftenant" he replied evenly and took Jintis empty
glass, placing it on the replicator tray.
"No, no you wouldn't" Harlan sighed. He needed some serious thinking to
do. And probably a good nights sleep. And things had to change. Really
change.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Briefing Room =/\=
Chess had called the senior staff for a meeting the next day as planned,
to discuss a plan of action for the strange events that were going to
befall them at Scavengers Hub. She'd spent the night before studying the
information - what there was of it - supplied by Admiral Bishops, and had
a reasonable picture in her head of what they were looking at.
Zerin walked in, still a little queasy. She didn't feel like an XO, but
she was an XO. And Harlan was a 2XO. And they had another mission.
Mike was nervous, he wasn't ready, why did he have to go? He decided to
get there, shut up and listen and go back to the infirmary.
Jinti bounded in, feeling chipper. She was puzzling over the change of
course, but hadn't thought it her place to ask why. Now she'd find out.
She unconsciously touched the new pip at her collar and grinned to
herself. Although it was still only a junior officer, it felt cool. "Yo,"
she offered her usual greeting around the table as she slid into a
rickety seat.
Harlan walked silently into the room, glancing around and realizing that
he was the last one to arrive. Screw that, he thought. I've never been
the first one, bloody second or not. He strolled to his chair under the
watchful glance of the Captain and let himself fall into it with a dull
thump and an ominous creak. Dammit, why do we have to have this junk on
my ship? he wondered to himself, slightly stung, as the chair creaked
unpleasantly once more, as he leaned forward.
Good morning, "Chess began as they were all assembled. "You'll have
noticed by now that we laid in a new course last night. This is in
accordance with mission orders I received, and we need to decide how
we're going to go about this."
She brought up a schematic on a cracked screen. "Scavengers Hub, a small
planetoid, that is our destination. It came into ownership of the Jackson
family back a hundred and twenty-five years ago, and is still owned by
their descendants to this day. The single trading town, Jackson's Whole,
is where we shall be beaming down to."
She then went of to describe the legend of the Resurrection Casket, as
related to her by Admiral Bishops. She added some information of her own
that she'd researched. "Although the legends are scarce, there was
definitely a strong understanding one hundred years ago that this device
existed. The Jackson clan were very much into piracy, some said it was
what they'd funded the purchase of the planetoid with, and one branch of
their family owned a space-frigate that terrorised the skyways around
that area. The pirate leader, Jeb Torso, was aid to have been killed many
times, and always returned to life...." she gave a little blink, "And so
the legend prospered, and then fell into decline."
"What of the present-day Jacksons?" Zerin asked her. "Who runs day-to-day
operations there, and can they be trusted?"
"Good question," Chess turned to Zerin. "According to the records, which
might not be complete, there are indeed descendants of the Jacksons
living just on the outskirts of the town. Drel Jackson is the de facto
manager of Jackson's Whole, but little is known about the rest of the
family, if indeed there are any others."
She consulted her Padd, "And as for if they can be trusted, we simply
don't have that information. I think it's something we'll have to find
out for ourselves. We shall definitely have to make contact with Drel
Jackson at some point - presumably he will know what's happening on his
own territory. Or be involved in it," she finished significantly.
"Being to life when you're not really dead is possible, in a sense he
could play his on death to make his rumors and fear grow in the eye of
others. What type of technology did they have access too?" The rest of
the people could easily see that Mike was surprised about his own remark.
"Well, that's an interesting point," Chess nodded. "If there *was* an
actual artefact that existed, then as you say, there could be technology
involved that was very advanced - at the time - and so played upon a
superstitious angle. If that was the case, then we'll need to identify
that technology. Almost certainly, it will have been obtained illegally."
"Or how 'bout it comes from the future?" Jinti put in.
"Possible, indeed, but I sincerely hope not," Chess raised an eyebrow.
"That would involve the DTI and really, those people are most difficult
to deal with. But I think we can rule out future technology, or the DTI
themselves would be investigating, or at least have a handle on things. I
believe that whatever it was, must have been stolen or otherwise obtained
from a race we don't know of yet."
Harlan cleared his throat, while playing unconsciously with the PADD in
front of him. "There's a lot of artefacts from ancient religions that
supposedly bring people back from the dead. There's hundreds of thousands
of legends in about every known culture. Maybe this is just one of those
that happens to be still functional. Some sort of ancient technology,
like the Bajoran Orbs. DTI would have little concern about something like
that in that case." he commented.
"Anyway, the point, I s'pose, is not whether it's real or not, the point
is to get our hands on that thing and take it to somebody who cares,
without the fleet getting their hands dirty. Right?" he added calmly. Why
else would they send us? he almost concluded, but felt it too harsh for
the time being.
"That is where we come in." Chess then explained the point of their
mission, to either disprove the existence of any artefact purporting to
be the Casket, or to identify it and obtain it. She also explained why it
was necessary to do this, to prevent further escalations of the already
troubled and dangerous area they patrolled. "Any questions?"
"I think we may need to travel in cognito at some point," Zerin replied.
"We're not going to be too popular if we're in uniform."
Harlan simply nodded, his eyes gleaming. It was a mission that was almost
tailored to his needs at that moment. No uniform, no rules. Back on
memory lane to his days before the fleet, before the Planetary Defense
Service and even later on, parts of his life during the Archer...
"Exactly. And I have a plan in mind..." Chess gave a quick smile. "They
say the easiest lie to maintain is the one that nearest resembles the
truth. So, we can't hide out Starfleet ship but we *can* explain it."
She sat back, "We could be a group of merchant mariners, some of us exStarfleet, trading as solo hauliers. We pooled our resources, and bought
an old decommissioned ship from Starfleet." She gave a wry look, "I think
the Caledonia certainly fits the appearance of a decommissioned ship, and
that will explain all Starfleet signatures."
"Ain't that the truth," Jinti chipped in. "I hate ta admit it, but from
the outside, she shore looks kinda scruffy."
Chess continued, "We will dress as civilians, and let it be known we do
occasional commissions for Starfleet, which makes us legal. We are there
to buy and barter for spare parts. I think anyone scanning our ship will
find more than enough reasons for us to *need* spare parts. And then, we
also make it known that we don't *always* stick to strictly legal
trading. That will give us a lead-in."
Harlan grinned humorless. "That, Captain, oh Captain, wont be too hard.
The problem will be when our invented rep is put to test. I suggest
finding a couple of tough guys and get into a fight, if possible, win it.
That'll give us the kind of hard support we're gonna need. I've never
known any smugglers that don't love a decent bar brawl."
Chess considered the idea, then nodded, "That's one way, yes. A little
drastic, but I think it fits the bill. Establish our credentials swiftly,
and we'll be talked about for all the right reasons. How would you
propose going about it?"
"Well, Harlan leaned forward, ignoring the creaking chair this time and
tapped on the desk. "I would take Derlith, possibly Jinti as well and get
on a bar tour. Find the right place, the right guys and smack the crap
out of them. It'll work, I'm sure."
"Yo! Count me *in*!" Jinti was unable to contain herself. "I'm *great* at
bar brawls," she caught herself, "Well afore Starfleet days, that is."
Chess gave the helmswoman a quick look, which might or might not have
held a hint of amusement. "That's settled then. Any more ideas?"
"I would like to access all information, with you're permission, on
resuscitation technology and learn a bit more on their culture and the
rumors involving people coming back from the dead," Mike said.
"Feel free to do as much research as you wish," Chess replied. "The
people of Scavengers Hub are mostly human - at least, the Jacksons are,
and so are plenty of others there. As for the transients and other
traders, doubtless we'll find *all* sorts of races and species. It's a
place where most pass through, and a small core live and work. It's the
small core we need to be looking at. Nothing happens in a place like that
without the locals getting wind of it."
"Shall I see if'n we c'n get there a bit faster?" Jinti was on a roll.
"Very well. Warp factor three authorised. I don't want to strain the
engines though," Chess held up a warning hand. "These people don't life
by any particular code except that of survival. If we need to make a fast
getaway, then I want everything running smoothly."
"Ya got it," Jinti assured her.
"Then that concludes this meeting," Chess looked around the table. "I
suggest you take the time to study further what information there is, and
put together some suitable civilian clothes that will fit with our cover
story. We'll meet again on arrival - which I estimate will be two days
time - and finalise the details then. We'll all be going down to the
surface in small groups, at various times, to make our presence known and
try different approaches. If you've any further ideas you wish to
discuss, you know where to find me."
She rose from her seat. Thank you. Dismissed."
=/\= SB BoB Command Centre =/\=
Things seemed quiet and efficient. No console had broken down for at
least an hour, and the replicators were producing brown beverages that if you didn't think about it too hard - actually tasted like tea or
coffee.
All in all, it was a day just waiting for something to go wrong.
Which, of course, was the cue for something to indeed go wrong.
And it did.
"Captain, we've got an unidentified ship on sensors, coming in slowly,
not registered, and not responding to our hails." Lupha had drawn the
lucky short straw that day.
"Unidentified ships always mean trouble," Mulder said resignedly. "Put it
on screen.
As the picture came to life, Mulder groaned. "It followed us home after
all."
"Ma'am?"
"That ship. I came across it yesterday when I was out flying with that
dreadful oik Mister Chera. It started to follow us, so we had to shake it
off. At least, I *thought* we'd shaken it off. Now it seems to have made
like an abandoned puppy and followed us home."
"Is it...dangerous?"
Mulder shrugged, "It didn't *seem* dangerous at the time. But you never
can tell. Around here it's always best to assume the worst. What's it
doing now?"
Lupha consulted her screen, "It's drawing up alongside...it's found a
docking port...it's trying to lock on. Shall I let it?"
"No way." Mulder shook her head. "How very odd, though. Try hailing it
again."
Ten minutes later they still had an apparently deserted ship trying to
nuzzle up to the docking ring, still unresponsive to their hails.
"I suppose we'll have to check it out. It's either that or blast it out
of the sky. Frankly, the later option is tempting, but it's a little
beyond protocol for me to get away with."
She stood up, "Ops, carry on scanning. I'm not letting anyone set foot on
that ship until we're certain there's nothing life-threatening waiting to
jump out at us. Get the Boff Squad to analyse the results, too. Scan for
bodies, life-signs, pathogens in their air system, well - see if there
*is* any air first. Check for livestock, bugs, diseases and explosives.
Especially check for explosives."
Lupha was nodding as she was getting it all down.
"Captain to Security. Commander Mattingly, we've got an unidentified ship
that we need to investigate later. The details are in my flight logs, but
you can always ask Mister Chera. It's actually all his fault anyway. Send
a security team to the public docking ring on level forty-seven, beta
section. Just keep that clear, allow no public access for now. It
shouldn't be a problem, there's nothing incoming on that level anyway
today. But I don't want anyone getting too close."
She closed the comm. If everything checked out, she would investigate it
herself, and take Baxter with her. Actually, it might be a good idea to
take Dr Bonnenfant too, in case there was any urgent medical treatment
required. And maybe..maybe Mort, too, just in *case* there was any first
contact of a friendly nature.
She'd comm them later, once she had the results back from Ops and the
Boff Squad. No point in interrupting the day any further.
She made a note to tell Vaughan about it too - just before she checked it
out. That way, if anything did spring a nasty surprise, he could take
care of business, and rescue them. She would do the same if the situation
were reversed, of course. It was just that Vaughan would do it with much
more ordnance and put on a better light show. Everybody wins.
"I'll be in my office if you need me, I'd better get a report started on
this," she told Lupha as she slipped out of the door.
=^= Le Lost French =^=
Doctor did see the last few days, did he sleep? He couldn’t remember, the
opening of the shop, the physical finishing up with the marine commander
today. He was working on ordering, negotiating and building his new shop.
Actually he didn’t see anybody that wasn’t tied with his routine. He had
a hard time even staying commited to the aboretum and his research but
like in the past his love for his reasearch was indestructable.
The message room was now complete. He had the too benches he wanted, they
we’re call the bed of paradise, after getting on it someone could
understand why. If you didn’t fell asleep because of the chair the
message would probably get you. He had put proper lightning that would
imitate the Boreal up north with Celtic relaxing music, fountains and
other sensorial effects.
He looks at the card he was holding in his hand. It had the name of the
shop and symbol on one side and the other it said free message. He never
forgot what the captain had said. And he could see that might be a lady
thing. Since let’s be honest every women he knew like messages.
Walking thought the rest of the shop he could see that his office with
the found statue we’re almost complete, the washroom was being fix and
that the main shop was getting there. Everyone was so great, they we’re
working as a unit. For once in his life he felt like love, hope and
positive energy was joint together to make this shop come alive.
He went out of his shop hoping to see the captain walking down the
promenade but it couldn’t be that easy. He heard about the little march
earlier and heard about the owner not appreciated the way it was acting
up.
He realise he was in front of Sybil flower shop at his point, why did he
venture so far away. He smile he knew why, was he trying to lie to
himself? He looks at the cards, good move or not...He went in the flower
shop bougth some roses...he had a plan.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Crew Quarters Corridor =/\=
Jinti closed the door to her quarters behind her and set off at a
leisurely stroll. With Richards taking his turn at the helm, she was
going to spend a few hours having a little tidy-up of the secret still.
As she heard a door open behind her she turned around, a look of
curiosity on her face as she saw an unfamiliar face.
"Hey bud, you the new guy?"
Mike froze, he wasn't expecting anyone to ask him that question, feel
even embarrassed since he was already thinking about his bed."Yes I am"
he manage a quick answer.
"Yeah, I heard 'bout ya arrivin'. I saw the BoB CO's fighter come up
alongside, an' the Cap'n mentioned it yesterday. I'm Jinti," she stuck
out a hand. "I fly this ship," she grinned.
"I am Mike and I try to keep people alive and well" He smile
"Good ta meet ya, Mike. Ya come from BoB, then? Crazy place, huh?"
He didn't know if that was meant as a insult or a compliment, but he
agree that it was a special at Bob " Well it different that for sure"
"It's jist as crazy here. We gets all the mad stuff happen ta us. How
long ya gonna be here for?"
"I think for at least a few months, time you get some medical officer"
Hoping it wouldn't be longer, he was already missing his friend.
"Uh-huh," Jinti looked at him. He seemed like he might be a drinking man,
but there was only one way to find out. "Ya wanna have a drink or
sumthin'?"
"Sure" he regretted the quick answer but beer was beer..."You'll have to
led the way since I don't know where we're going"
"Ya wouldn't find it anyways," she assured him. "It's a secret, but
everyone knows about it. So it's prob'ly not *exactly* a secret, but
sorta a secret-elect. Well, 'cept the Cap'n. She don't know about it.
Except she prob'ly *does* cuz she knows most things, but if'n she does
she ain't said," Jinti's ramblings led them along the corridor and into
the turbolift.
"You've been serving on this ship for long?" He was trying to keep up
with Jinti.
"More than two years," she said with some pride. "She's a right mad ole
ship, but she rocks." They stepped out of the turbolift and walked down
another corridor. "Now, ya gotta remember the way, cuz it's all hidden,
right?"
"heu, sure" he felt like a mouse in a glass labyrinth
Jinti led the way to an old store-room and walked to a bulkhead panel,
which she slid to one side. She then walked down the narrow gap of a
corridor this led to, and finally into the room that was her secret
still.
A rough counter with various mugs and glasses stood at one end, and at
the back several big wooden and metal barrels were arranged, the smell of
alcohol deliciously strong.
A few rickety tables and comfy, battered old armchairs were dotted about
the small room, and in one corner there was an old mattress on the floor.
The lights were low, and Jinti always smiled when she saw her little
domain. "Here we are!"
Mike started to walk around and took a look at the room "Wow, that's
really awesome, what type of drinks do you have here?"
"Well, we got three sorts of home brewed hooch here," She pointed to the
barrels. "The first came with the ship. It wuz made by long-gone crew.
The other is hooch that came off'n the Mirror Universe version of the
Caledonia. They didn't know they had it, but I guessed, so I
kinda....borrowed it. The last ones is the newest. That's hooch that the
giants had on their ship, them Lytozians whut came back with us last
month. Only three sorts, but it'll knock yer socks off."
"Well, it remain to be seen" he started to laugh "when do we know when
it's open?"
"It's easy, there ain't no openin' hours or closin' hours. If'n ya wants
a drink an' somewhere quiet ta chill, ya c'n come here any time. Ya helps
yerself to a mug, and puts the cash in this Honesty Box here." She
indicated a box on the bar counter. It's jist one strip of latinum fer a
mugfull. Thass all there is to it. Ya wanna try some? On the House!"
"Sure, but I'll give a donation anyway, when in Rome do like the Romans"
Mike got closer to the boxe and drop a strip.
"So, any advice for the new guy on the block, people to avoid before
their coffee type of thing" He made himself comfortable after taking the
mug from his new crewmate. He took a sip and let it sit in his mouth for
a few second. Making the taste explore in his mouth "It's really good,
witch one's was it?"
"That wuz my latest find, the stuff from the Lytozians. Yeah, it's more
mellow than the others, but a cheeky l'il brew all the same," Jinti
grinned, pouring herself a mugful. "So whut's it like on BoB these days?"
"On bob...the doctor not really a moody person. The only one I saw that
was a bit rough on the hedge was some lady in the security department and
another in the marines. But let's be honest who want to go to the
infirmary? Your force to go by the pain or by you're superior officer."
As he took another sip.
"Yeah, I guess so. We gets our fair share of bumps an' bruises," Jinti
said, "So ya better have yer first aid box handy. As fer the folks here,
there ain't no-one who's trouble, really. The Cap'n keeps herself to
herself, she's a canny one, never quite know whuts goin' on in her head.
But she ain't been mean ta me or anyone, which is all good by me."
"Pretty much like our captain, well like Bob captain should I say "
"Then we got Harlan, he's the security chief, an' he runs a bar too. The
official bar, that is, an' he's jist decoratin' it an' gettin' it changed
round. Ya oughtta meet with him, he'll show ya a good drinkin' time too.
An' there's Zerin, she's the Ops Queen. Dunno if'n she drinks much, but
she keeps bunnies - I gotta rabbit as a pet too," Jinti went off apropos
of nothing.
"I'm not a animal fan personally, but it seem interesting that some of
you have pets" Still thinking about the last goldfish he over feed and
died.
"Well yeah, plenty of animals around here. We gpt Sheydra, the ship's
iger. She bin here longer than anyone. But she don't bite, so yer safe.
An' there's this dang cat, called Suicide cat, coz it's always trying ta
get itself killed. An' there's my rabbit, and Zerin's... an' I s'pect
there's more only we haven't found 'em yet. Ya never know *whut* yer
gonna find on this ship," she finished her drink.
A suicidal cat, a tiger, he tough he migth had finally found some place
as crazy as BoB."Well i'll make sure to let you know if I find a elephant
or something" he wink "You have a boyfriend or husband, kids??" Trying to
stay away from the pet conversation...He vast memory of a goldfish
floating upside down came back in his mind.
"ME?" Jinti laughed, "Nope, I ain't got caught thataway once. I useta
have a fella but he upped an' went. I have more fun as a single gal
anyway. Time enuff fer that settlin' down stuff when I'z old. How 'bout
you, bud? Ya gotta girl back on BoB?"
"Me, nooooo, no women could stand me for more than a few hours, I even
surprise that you're still hear.."he smile "My best weapon for dating was
beer, the more they drank the more funny they found me" he took a deep
breath " no, really i'm not the popular type kind of guy"
"Ya whut? They gotta be nuts. Youz a cool guy," Jinti also privately
thought he was a good-looking guy too, but that was that. She never got
involved with her crewmates, she knew that always led to trouble. "Ya
never know, mebbe you'll find someone on this crazy ship, or when ya gets
back to BoB, or mebbe a sweetie alien gal - we meets lotsa aliens."
"Ho, don't worry, I don't plan any relationship at this point. Beer is
the woman of my life today. Aliens or not they must be interesting".
"Well, the last aliens wuz about fifty feet high, so that mighta bin a
problem, dating one. Depends if'n ya likes gals taller that you," Jinti
chuckled.
"Wow, let's just say that it's huge entertainment " he laugh, he wasn't a
really funny guy.
"I hopes you have a good time here, bud," Jinti gave him a friendly thump
on the arm. "We don't bite - much. An' everyone's sorta mates - mostly.
An' we *always* survive - just about."
"Good, hopefully will all live and then I won't have anything to do
except small intervention." He was still concern that he wasn't a full
doctor.
"Welll.. I wouldn't say ya won't need quite a lot of stuff with you all
the time, cuz we don't mess about," Jinti was being completely honest.
"You'll be treatin' lots and lots of things, I reckon. But you'll do jist
fine, I know." She stifled a yawn, "Hey, s'cuse me. I'm a bit sleepy
now."
"Well, I would like to say thank you for your hospitality and to say I
appreciate you showing me this secret sanctum." He was getting up.
"Youz welcome anytime, now ya knows it's here," she rose with him. "Time
fer some shut-eye, I reckons."
"You're rigth but I should go back to sickbay, I trying to figure out
where everything is..." he smirk as he was going toward the door.
"Heh, I'll walk with ya, my quarters is that way anyway," Jinti closed
the door behind them. "Say, I gotta tell ya about the time that I helped
rescue an Away Team by playing Britney Spears over the loudspeakers...."
her voice faded as they walked along the corridor and into the turbolift.
=/\= SB BoB Promenade - The Goth Detective Agency =/\=
"Money, my young friend, is the root of all evil," Russ Brand declared.
"And right now we really really really *need* some evil," Noel Fielding
said glumly. "The money that woman's father paid you to stay away from
her won't last forever. We're poor, like *really* poor. I might have to
sell one of my pairs of leather trousers."
"Tush, tush," Russ was probably one of the few people who could actually
say that and not sound pretentious enough to be stabbed. "Do not despair.
We are...the Goth Detectives."
"But no-one wants us to detect anything."
"Ah, yes, what a mind you have. That, my friend, is the fatal flaw in our
business so far.," Russ nodded wisely.
"We were going to steal a pet, then we could get it back and earn vast
riches and high recommendations," someone Noel never managed to sound so
grandiose as Russ. He usually just sounded dim.
"And so we shall..." Russ rubbed his hands together. "We need to plan.
It's all in the planning. Come, let us gaze upon the promenade and decide
on our victim."
Noel ambled over to join him. "Or we could just start begging, I
suppose."
"Goth Detectives do not beg. They scheme and connive,"
the passers-by. "Now..hmmm..... the captain has a dog.
little foxhound? A captain will be very wealthy. And a
from a captain will give us access to the good and the
station."
Russ was scanning
See that excellent
recommendation
great on this
"The Captain is also Jaz'Aarian and could read our body language in a
flash, and she'd know we were lying to her," Noel imparted some gossip
he'd picked up. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not get throw
into jail around here."
"Although that *would* mean free food..." Russ was stroking his chin.
"But no, let us not over-tax ourselves."
"The Chief Security officer has got a ...something.." Noel offered.
"Have you *seen* that brute?" Russ spluttered. "I prefer to keep all my
appendages about me, thank you. Besides, he's Security. He'd smell a rat.
He's supposed to be quite sharp, y'know."
"But... he does like his pet," having gotten a hold of an idea, Noel was
reluctant to let it go. "It might be worth it. Hang on, though.,.. even
better... did you know his wife has an identical..thing?"
Russ blinked, "What a strange couple."
"Nah, seriously. They've got matching ones. Things. Pets. If we dognapped
*hers* she'd be really upset, see, and then we'd offer to help her
*husband* out and let him take all the credit for finding it. So she'd be
grateful, and pay us, and he'd be grateful, and pay us too. And neither
of them would know."
"Hmmmmm... I like your style, young man," Russ was stroking his small
goatee beard. "I like it indeed. Complex, compelling, and bringing us in
double the cash."
Noel gave a modest goofy grin.
"But, the security element remains dangerous," Russ sighed. "What we need
is a dog that's got style, a powerful owner, and cash...."
They looked at each other. "Major Vaughan's dog!" they exclaimed
simultaneously.
"Perfect, perfect," Russ rubbed his hands together. "It's well known that
a marine is a bear of very little brain. An yet, he does seem
inordinately attached to that dog. How simple. How effective. Catch the
dog, offer our services to the second most powerful officer on the
station, and solve the case for him. He'll give us a reward, and we'll be
able to use him on all our advertisements as a recommendation."
"Hmmmm..." Noel started to look dubious. "If it's a marine dog, maybe
it's had marine training. It looks like it could give a nasty bite."
"Not if we're clever. We'll muzzle it. I think I found something in the
back room a few days ago," Russ turned to rummage. "Left by the previous
owners. Ah, here we are. A silk stocking."
"How long have to had that?"
"None of your business."
"It's got a few holes in..."
"*Definately* none of your business."
"I just dunno. I still think we ought to go for the engineer woman's dogthing," Noel was determined to keep his idea going.
"I say the marine dog," Russ could be just as stubborn.
"Why not *both* dogs?" Noel clicked his fingers.
"Best not to over-reach ourselves," Russ looked thoughtful. "But maybe in
time, both dogs, indeed."
"Are we going to toss a coin for it?"
"No, not quite. We shall observe, first. Watch, follow, observe the
patterns of their daily movements, and then we shall strike, at whoever
is the easiest target," Russ announced, as if that was the last word on
the subject.
Noel knew when he had to fall into line. "Right. Watch. Wait. Catch. Get
rich."
"Absolutely, my young friend, absolutely," Russ clapped him on the
shoulder. "Now..let us draw up stools, sit in the doorway, and begin our
task..."
=/\= Sickbay =/\=
He'd put it off long enough. Actually, to Cade's thinking, a physical
wasn't something to put off, it was a waste of time as Dr. Alleir had
just treated him a few weeks ago. But, he'd noticed on the list that he
was about the last one to respond to the 'request.' Normally, that would
have found it's way to his circular file, but since Mulder had encouraged
it, there probably wasn't much chance of getting out of it.
Cade walked through the main doors and smiled at first nurse he saw. "Dr.
Bonnenfant?"
"In the Chief's office, Major."
"Thank you." Cade walked down the hallway, thinking that maybe this
wouldn't be too bad. ~A doctor with Marine training could definitely be a
useful commodity.~ He got the office and knocked on the jamb. "Dr.
Bonnenfant?"
The doctor look up and saw a man standing in the doorway, he quickly got
up "Good morning "
Cade stepped in and held out his hand. "Major Cade Vaughan. Acting
Executive Officer of the station and CO of Marine Detachment Nomad."
"ah, I was looking forward to meet you, I meet miss Frost, she was.."
looking for the appropriate word " interesting to know".
"She's a pain in the ass, but a good Marine." He paused for a second.
"She didn't give you a hard time, did she?"
"No, everything went fine" Smiling. "You're probably here because of the
useless physical that you had a while ago, right" he smirk.
"I've never had a useless physical, Doctor," Cade said with a trace of
annoyance in his voice. "I've had long ones and short ones and under the
previous administration there was nothing but first rate treatment."
"No worries , I'll make it fast and productive." He signal to take a seat
on the bed in his office as he took out his tricorder.
Cade sat down, watching the young doctor intently. If Dr. Bonenfant was
going to make a habit out of running down other doctor's skills, he'd
find little support with the station XO.
Seeing the XO reaction he knew he made a grammar mistake, he wasn't at
ease in english." I think my english need some work, I probably didn't
express myself properly, I meant you came in recently didn't you? that
will make this physical easier.." he decided to leave it at that
"I understand that you went through the Marine Basic Course, Doctor. What
made you go to the Fleet rather than be a combat medic?"
"To be honest, I could gone both ways, became fleet because of I wanted
to do a bit more research, I started five years ago and just never stop,
I do miss the training and adrenaline rush..." he did miss that surge of
energy.
Cade's face was noncommittal. "Well, you'll get some practice on this
station at combat and trauma medicine. This bucket of bolts seems to
attract a disproportionate share of trouble."
"Well, remember me if you need medical services, always ready to help
out, sir!"
"As a courtesy to your predecessor, Dr. Alleir, when things got out of
hand in Sickbay, I'd have my medics take shifts here. With your consent,
I'd like to continue that practice." Cade rolled up a sleeve so that
Bonenfant could get his blood sample. "Helps you out and gives my
troopers experience at something other than a sucking chest wound."
"Not a problem, I even have a proposition for you, i'm opening a shop to
finance and restructure the infirmary and the secondary infirmary. If you
wanted we could post them in the secondary and I could supervise them. I
would redirect cases to them, so they can experience different things,
but it's your decision"
"It wouldn't be on a permanent basis, Doctor, but whenever you needed
help, just let me know. I'll send them either here or to the secondary;
wherever they're needed most." He smiled faintly. "The Marine way."
"How many medics do you have? If I may ask?" Taking the blood out of the
XO arm.
"Four. They're split up among several of the operational teams, which is
why I don't want to send them down here on a permanent basis. They need
to be with those teams training as much as possible. Sergeant Kam Drexer
is the ranking medic and is on my own team. The rest are Corporals. And a
few of my other troopers have been through the Basic Combat Lifesaving
course and can slap on a bandage in a pinch."
"I'll make sure to send you a few open shifts so they can go when you
fell it's right"
Cade glanced at his arm, amazed every time by the technology that allowed
the drawing of blood without leaving a mark. "Well, Doctor, am I fit for
duty?"
"I would had been surprise if you would had anything showing up, marines
tend to stay fit on average it's the "activities" they do that normally
bring them back here." smiling and thinking of the type of training and
mission they had.
"Very true," Cade said with a smirk. "We usually try to handle things inhouse, but more extensive facilities," he said gesturing the Sickbay
around him, "do become necessary from time to time."
"Well I'm all done here sir," He waited a few second " Sir, with all do
respect, would you mind if I went to your divison once in while? I miss
the adrenaline rush, the extensive training, I wouldn't be in your way,
we're speaking limited time."
Cade nodded his head. "Speak with Master Gunnery Sergeant Gideon
Canowicakte. He's the First Sergeant for the Nomads and also the head of
training." He thought for a moment. "Depending on how you score on the
firing range and obstacle course, we might be able to get your combat
status reinstated, if you're interested."
He did know if he wanted but did want to close the option for now "Will
see how I do in training first"
He smiled. "Always happy to have another Shooter 'N' Looter in the fold.
Not to mention that it would chafe Captain Mulder more than a little bit
for me to steal away one of her staff every once in a while."
The doctor smile since he didn't want to put himself into a situation, he
cared to much about her.
Cade held up a hand. "You'd be blameless, Doctor. I'm the XO in addition
to being the CO of the Nomads. Personnel issues fall into my purview
usually."
"Good, I wouldn't want to become something to figth about" He wink
Vaughan slid off the bed and rolled his sleeve back down before shaking
Bonenfant's hand. "Good to meet you, Doctor. Welcome to the ass end of
nowhere," he said with a smile as he headed for the door.
"Thanks" He look at Vaughan heading for the exit, still thinking if he
had what it takes to be both, fleet and marine.
-=-...Paddington....earth -=Arihana hummed quietly to herself as she left the building. She just
wanted to get home, only that meant diving into drive time traffic as it
crawled up the Thames Estuary. Wouldn't be pleasant, and given the day
she had, she was likely to cut someone up and dangerously.
There was flash of lights as the car was unlocked. She deposited her
jacket in the back, would make driving easier. The briefcase was chucked
into the boot, landing on top of her baseball bat and a crowbar that she
had no idea she even had.
Finally getting into the car, the engine started to turn over. Arihana
smiled to put her foot down, and make the gear change. For the evening,
she could forget. Forget about the imbeciles who in having an attitude
problem were playing Jenga with the security services.
There was a steady stream travelling down river. Vehicles travelled on
the passing tide of grid lock. She'd missed the traffic carnage that was
a hallmark of London. Fiddling with the music system, Arihana watched the
speedo increase slowly. She just wanted to go home. Gear changes were
easy to make, with speed it was about natural progression. To low a gear
and the engine would rattle something chronic. Would wear it down. Not in
this case, Arihana loved this car too much to wantonly abuse it.
The estuary was coming to a bottle neck, as she glanced down at the
national speed limit. The music continued as she was pressing the brake
frantically. No matter how hard she pressed, the vehicle was not slowing
down. The bottle neck was getting closer, and she was about career into
the cars coming into the other direction.
Thank goodness for power steering. The front end of the car impacted into
another, before careering over the edge of the gangway. This was the time
for jokes about women drivers, as Arihana had her hands clamped at ten to
two on the wheel. With a silent splash, the Flying Spur impacted into the
water. It was sinking down into the wash like a lead weight.
Flashing before her eyes, in silence, was her life. All twenty nine years
of it. the belt was undone as the car made its descent.The doors were
stuck. Arihana pulled and she pushed. It was stuck fast. Leaning back,
she realised this called for drastic measures. Lifting a leg, she kicked
at the glass windows. Toughened, it was designed to protect against
bullets, never mind her boots. She must have tried ten times to kick it
through. It just wasn't happening.
=/\= London, Scotland Yard =/\=
The agent pushed open the door to the women's locker room and glanced
around briefly. "Doctor?" She walked inside with her tote and came around
the corner to find Arihana. "Ah, there you are."
"I am, yes." She was in a filthy mood as she rung out wet hair. Picking
out something leafy that indicated a healthy level of plant life in the
Thames.
The Spook handed her the tote. "Some dry clothes for you. They might be a
little big, but it was the best I could find."
"Thanks, hope it aint fancy dress or anything,"Arihana took the tote the
detective handed her. "Lovely," she added seeing the sweats from the
Metropolitan Police Academy.
While the doctor changed, the short agent sat down on one of the benches.
"You realize, of course, that your car was sabotaged? Most likely by the
same man you've been chasing with Special Branch? Or his organization."
"Top of the class, genius," Arihana was more than a little disgruntled.
Her car was in the bottom of the Thames Estuary, and the insurance pay
out didn't bear thinking about. "Would you like a gold star?"
The agent smiled wryly and leaned back a little. "I was told you had a
mouth on you."
"Yep, a big one, and size matters," Arihana spat out, she really was in a
mood to hit someone.
The woman smiled back at Arihana, but ignored the comment. "We're going
to insist that you go into protective custody until this group is brought
to heel." She held up a hand to stop the doctor's comments immediately.
"No, you don't have a choice in the matter. If you want us or not, you've
got us. Accept it, and it will be easier on all parties involved."
"Accept it?" Arihana blinked, now fully dressed. "Er, no," she added
coiling her damp hair into a knot.
The woman smirked and leaned forward on the bench. "I don't think you
understand the situation."
"I really don't give a brass monkeys' about what you think, or what your
superiors think. I do not need to be wrapped up in cotton wool, thank you
very much." Arihana rolled up the sleeves to baggy top, only to have them
descend again.
"You'd be dead, Doctor, if the agents tailing you home hadn't seen you go
over the edge and dive in after your car." The agent's eyes narrowed in a
cross of annoyance and concern. "Do you have any concept of the danger
that you're in, now?"
"Danger," Arihana scoffed. "Try living on a starbase on the edge of no
where for week or two. You'll soon appreciate that danger has many
degrees of severity. This is a stroll in the park compared to six foot
lizards and ice monsters."
"Somehow, Doctor, you need to understand that what we're up against here
is much more dangerous and insidious than any of Snookums' poorly
dispostioned relatives."
"What would you know about Snookums?" Arihana arched a brow. Was BoB that
well reknowned? Part of her wondered about subscribing to SS&U just for
some light reading. There were ways of getting your hands on it.
"I made a few calls and got some background information on you and your
former posting. In fact, I was told that if you didn't cooperate, I was
to take your bat away." The smirk returned in all it's infuriating form.
"Oh, yeah?" Arihana asked with a tut. "You and who's army? My bat and I
are not easily parted, Detective. Usually involves a battle of wills, and
dodgy stains in the carpet." She gave a shallow shrug to stick her hands
in the pockets of the baggy sweats.
"Him That Shall Not Be Named wants you to cooperate with me, Doctor." She
paused, letting the words sink in. "My ex-husband was emphatic about
using that term to get you to listen to me."
Eh, what, woah. Him That Shall Not Be Named. Arihana blinked. "I'm not
exactly a groupie. So why would the man, the legend, the superhero have
any bearing on as to how I conduct myself?"she mused with alarm bells
ringing in her head.
The agent stood and walked over to Arihana, holding out her hand. "I
guess I probably should have introduced myself when I first came in. Tara
Vaughan of His Majesty's Security Service. I know, normally after divorce
it's customary to revert to the maiden name, but a British name has it's
advantages."
"The infatigueable former Missis Vaughan," Arihana couldn't help but
laugh as she shook the proffered hand. " A pleasure to finally make your
acquaintance. There is so much that now makes sense."
"Really? I would have thought that realization made me a pariah to his
friends," Tara said with a smile.
"Makes you a goldmine of potentially useful information," Arihana was
thinking of all sorts of random questions about the lives, loves and bad
habits of Cade Vaughan, as she took her hand back. "He's probably the one
person I know nothing about," she tutted, as though rueing her luck at
the many lost opportunities.
Tara's smile was still genuine as she sat back down. "I think you're
selling yourself short, Doctor. From what he's said, I think you probably
know him better than just about any of the others he serves with." She
shrugged. "Well, with one or two exceptions. But, I'd be happy to fill in
any blanks on him that you'd like."
"As interesting as it would be achieving an insight. I'm still not going
into protective custody," Arihana replied with vague defiance. "As that
would mean doing as I'm told. You may want to confirm that with Him That
Shall Not Be Named. The whole don't take direction thing."
"He told me that you're pretty stubborn and that you'd say something like
that. I hate to repeat myself, but unfortunately, this is going to happen
whether you like it or not."
"Don't wanna go into protective custody," she muttered heading for the
door out of the locker room. "Seeing as this place, this investigation,
is a quadrant away from Him That Shall Not Be Named and his remit of
juristiction. Nope. Not gonna be swaddled. I'm sorry."
Tara's mien changed to one of utter seriousness. "They won't stop until
you're dead, Doctor. And my ex-husband's fingers are reaching out to this
because of the people now involved."
"I'm *not* dead. I did *not* drown. I bounced." Arihana sighed deeply.
"So no one gotta give Suraj the 'sorry son but yer mothers dead' spiel."
She blinked to look straight at Tara. "Now. Please, Missis Vaughan,"
there was that added edge that indicated antangonism. "I have a job to
do. You gotta job to do. Get out my way."
Tara stood and blocked her way to the door. "You are my job, Doctor. I've
been tasked to see that you survive the course of this investigation."
Now she smirked again. "Cade asked that I look into this personally and
was able to pull a couple of favours still owed him."
How she wanted to reach for her baseball bat and swing. Only it was
probably still in the back of her car. Arihana looked up and cursed,
closing her eyes. "Him That Shall Not Be Named. Listen, I pride myself on
being one of what," there was some quick mental arithemetic with thought,
"A handful of women, who have never had any reason to get into his
boxers. You can have my bat, with pleasure, and stick-" she stopped mid
flow to look back at Tara. There was a lunatic on the loose. This was
expending otherwise useful energy.
Tara just gave her a single raised eyebrow, daring Arihana to tell the
veteran agent where to stick the bat.
Counting silently to nine point nine recurring, Arihana simply smiled.
"Fine. Do your thing, hang around like the smell of week old lasagne. But
I mean it about the bat. You can shove it," she added in a sing song
tone. "You do the whole Copper Confucious thing, and I'll just cover the
Freudian slips."
"Think of me as a shadow that you can bounce ideas off of, Doctor." Tara
started walking and breezed by her. "Although not in your league, I do
have a degree in Abnormal Psychology." As she neared the door, she waved
her hand up, showing the set of car keys. "I'll bring the car around to
the side door. Constable Clarke will escort you to it. We'll go to your
house, which is under surveillance right now, collect a few of your
things and go to the safe house."
"Fine," Arihana muttered back, slipping her feet into damp shoes. "Just
tell me to jump, and I'll ask how high," there was that horrible squelch.
"But I might get you to take a dip first...."
Tara stopped at the door and turned her head, ignoring Arihana's
comments. "You've got five minutes to finish getting ready or I'll have
Inspector Vaughan's team escort you in chains." She winked. "Like I said,
you've got me whether you want coverage or not."
"Lucky me," Arihana rolled her eyes and turned to follow Tara out. "You
and Him That Shall Not Be Named. What happened, forget to take out the
trash or something?"
**** Arihana was plotting. This doing as she was told lark, it really
wasn’t her. Thinking, she looked at the door over her shoulder, twirling
her wedding ring. She had no idea why she still wore it. Deciding what
she was going to do, she walked towards the window of the first storey of
the safe house. There was that horrible noise of stuck paint as the
window raised. Was a dodgy sash window, it was easy to tinker with it.
Putting a booted foot onto the sill, Arihana clambered out and shimmied
down a drain pipe. Tara was just doing her job. Shame she had taken her
eye of the ball.
The curtains fluttered into the reflection cast on the mirror on the
dresser. There were words written across it in raspberry frost lipstick.
Two ex-husbands couldn’t keep her in one place. Neither would the
security service.
=^= BoB - Outside the command centre =^=
He had flowers in one hand and cards in the other. He was prepared, equip
and ready for action, lock and load like they say in the marine. The
flowers weren't in a bouquet but each rose was in a individual packing.
He took a big breath and walk in. The first face he recognize was Lupha,
he gently started walking towards her.
" He crewman beautiful, how are you?" making sure he didn't speak too
loundly so only her could her him.
"Doctor Bonnenfant!" Lupha grew flustered, rsisting the urge to simper
and giggle, which would have made her feel very foolish, especially since
Morrie was trying to catch her eye and looking very knowing. "What lovely
flowers...who are they for?"
"Flowers? where?" Looking around him " Hooo, those, one for you and it's
goes with a card" giving her a card at the same time.
"Oh my goodness..." she breathed in delight. "This is lovely. Why,
though? I mean, why flowers? I haven't done anything..."
"A woman doesn't deserve a reason since she is a reason herself...Une
femme est une fleur qui ne cesse de s'épanouir et d'émerveiller" he smile
Lupha felt all soppy and she just grinned madly, knowing that Morrie
would tease her unmercifully afterwards. "You're a charmer, sure enough.
I said so right at the start, didn't I? You sure know how to brighten up
a working day."
"Thank you, so do you..." He wink wondering why lupha was acting in that
strange matter. " Is she in?"
"She? Oh, the Captain, yes, she's around.." Lupha realised that the other
flower must be for Mulder. Ah, well, she couldn't expect a guy like
Francois to look at her and her alone. "She's in the conference room,"
Lupha pointed to a small door leading off from the main command centre.
"Ok thanks, I need to speak to her " he started walking toward the door
whistling.
* * * * Mulder was plotting the recent flight path she'd taken, marking
where the strange ship had first appeared and trying to extrapolate it's
possible origin.
She looked up as the door opened, "Doctor Bonnenfant. It's good to see
you - I hope. Is everything okay?"
He smile "One day, I swear i'll be able to surprise you! In the meanwhile
here some flowers and a little card" He wink.
Mulder have a little exclamation of surprise and pleasure. "Goodness me,
that's delightful. I think I shall have to suggest that *every* caller
does this. It'll make the whole business of being the CO so much more
pleasant."
She wondered about his actions, fleetingly. This was the second time he'd
given her flowers. But then again, he was French, and they had a
reputation for being chivalrous, so maybe it was just a custom amongst
his people. She then wondered why *all* races couldn't be so charming.
maybe he ought to give Mister Chera charm lessons. If anyone needed it,
that strange being certainly did.
"Have a seat, do, and tell me what's up."
"So, what you're doing? You'll laugh but I came here to escape my
madness!"
"Your madness? Things are stressful, are they?"
"Well, not stressful but it's not managing a little sickbay somewhere on
a ship that will never encounter anything except empty space. But
everything seem to be rolling according to plan"
"I'm glad to hear it's all under control," Mulder smiled. "As for me, I'm
just trying to solve a puzzle," she indicated the viewscreen.
"Puzzle, I love a challenge" he look at the viewscreen " wo...that not
what I had in mind"
"Actually, it *is* something you'll ned to know about, as you'll be
accompanying me later on an investigation," she switched into
professional mode.
The adraneline started to kick in, he felt like the 21st centuries
heroes, where the change into their costume to go and save the worl, he
smirk."Always ready captain, but what happen exactly?"
"Well, it all started yesterday...." Mulder recounted the tale of finding
the ship, of how it started to follow them, and how they thought they'd
shaken it off, until it had appeared outside BoB that morning.
"Wow, good story" he scratched his head " you probably tried to
communicate with it, rigth?"
"Of course. But it didn't want to communicate back," Mulder said wryly.
"Either because it couldn't - oir wouldn't. I don't know which is the
most alarming."
He look at the form " Computer, does it form match any known vessel?" The
computer was looking at the datbase. he look into her eyes "wild guess!"
She look tense...
"No, it doesn't.. we've already checked - many times," Mulder put in
gently. "I'm trying to work out a possible route for it at the moment,"
she indicated her star charts, but the range is so vast, it really
doesn't give us much at the moment. It could have even come from a
different galaxy, for all we know. That's why we'll have to check it
out."
"Permission to get kill sir?" he was going to try something, something
you didn't try without technique, you had to be train to face the
fierciest of dragons...
"To get killed? Certainly not!" Mulder laughed quietly. "You're the only
doctor we have. It's your job to stop *us* from being killed. Why did you
want to get killed?"
He got up, "alrigth then, remember i'm a friend not a punching bag." He
went behind he and put his tumb behind her high back and push trying to
relaxe he very tense muscle and ready to avoid any attack.
"Attack by massage, now that's different," Mulder had initially tensed,
as unexpected contact made her instinctively want to shoot something, but
she knew that Francois was trying to be helpful, so let herself relax a
little under his ministrations. "Doctor, some warning in advancve would
be nice," she advised.
"Well the punching bag line was about the best I could do" Seing her
relaxing he put more pressure on his finger.
"No problem, and I'm sure it'll be very helpful." She gave a small smile.
"Now all we have to hope is this mystery ship doesn't cause problems or
you'll have to do a lot more than just massage on everyone."
"Well i'm prepared for everything, surgery and everything but hopefully
it won't come to that"
"Maybe it won't come to that," she said calmly. "Later on, if it all
checks out, we shall let the ship dock and go aboard, see what there is
to see. We might have been worrying for absolutely nothing, then I shall
feel a bit silly."
"Never feel silly for doing something, prevention is the best of cure" He
smirk
"Well, that is the thing...mostly around here we don't worry for nothing.
Usually there's *always* something to worry about," Mulder sighed, "But
we wouldn't have it any other way. How does it compare to your last
posting, doctor? I expect it was a lot more quiet than this?"
"Quiet is such a big word" he grin " Let's just say the action was
different, making life depending surgery, birth delivery, making trouble
for myself with certain people...I was....busy".
"You probably won't have to worry overmuch about births around here,"
Mulder mused. "I think we're all too busy, or too sensible, to start
having children..." she went quiet for a moment then continued.
"Whatever, it's a different lifestyle altogether here. Thank you for the
massage, I think that'll do the trick. I really need to go and check on
the results from Ops now."
He stop "True, just call me if you need my services" He walk back.
"By the way, are all the physicals done now?"
"Yes they are, all of them, can you imagine, the report should be
completed soon, the crew is in good condition".
"Good, good. Any problems or anything I should know about?" Mulder stood
up.
He tough, a guy with a puppet, another one addicted to chocolat, one fear
doctors like nothing else, gills, food moving still, flirt, alien flu.
"No, nothing that you need to concern yourself. Little thing here and
there"
Mulder gave a knowing grin, "It'll all seem perfectly normal once you've
been here for a few more months."
"I let you to your alien, I'll be in the infirmary if you need me" He
walk across the door "Don't forget to read the card" he wink and came
back down.
Mulder gave a quiet smile, and indeed read the card. Now why couldn't all
doctors get a degree from charm school like that?
Then she remembered something else she'd meant to say. But no matter,
she'd catch him later for a pleasant word. For now, it was time to see
what progress was being made on the scans.
********
Francois walked toward Lupha "Well princess I have to go back to my
infirmary, hopefully you'll have a good day"
"I'm sure I will, doctor. I'm sure I will."
After he'd gone, Morrie gave a sly grin, "Popular, aren't you? Are you
blushing, Lupha?"
"You can be quiet," she retorted. "No-one has ever brought me flowers
before. I could get to like this."
Morrie gave a roll of his eyes and went back to work. "Better have
something to tell the Captain, or the only pink you'll be seeing round
here is a pink slip when you get fired."
Lupha stuck out her tongue at him, but immediately busied herself at the
console again.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge =/\=
"Y'okay, listen up guys," Jinti bounded over to the helm console where
her two pilots were keeping things rolling. "I jist had a meetin' an' I
knows why we changed course now."
"Cool," Richards stretched lazily. "What's up?"
Jinti bagged a spare seat and related the tale that Chess had outlined
earlier. "You guys ever heard of anythin' like this Ressyrecshum Casket?"
"There's a few stories similar where I come from," Jadi said, "Well,
things about magic and bringing people back to life. Near where my family
come from, there's caves set into the rocks, really ancient. And once, it
was said that a holy man guarded the entrance to one of them. Ill and
dying people - even dead people - could be put inside the cave, and they
had to stay there the night, and if the sacred snake of the gods touched
them, then they'd be alive or well again the next morning."
"Neat," said Jinti. "Did it work? I mean, did they get many come back to
life?"
"Erm, no. Most of them got bitten by the snake and died. It wasn't very
popular."
"Thass a right rip-off," Jinti declared as Richards chuckled to himself.
"An' did they kick the crap outta the holy man fer lyin' to 'em?"
"Well, no. Because he said that only the *worthy* would be cured, so if
they got bitten it was because they weren't worthy," Jadi shrugged.
"So do they still do it?" Richards smirked.
"Not any more. In fact, something *did* happen once," Jadi grinned. "A
really really fat man was taken into the cave with a bad leg. The story
was that his family hated him and wanted him out of the way, so they
hoped the snake would bite him. He was too big to move without help especially with a broken leg. But the next morning.. he was alive and
well, and limped out of the caves."
"So there mighta bin sumthin' true about the story?" Jinti perked up.
"That's what the villagers thought. Right up until the holy man came out
yelling and stamping his feet, holding a very flat dead snake carcass.
Seems the overweight man had rolled over and squashed it. That was really
the end of that."
"Well, that ain't much good," Jinti snorted. "But yeah, I get yer point.
Prob'ly a load of old tosh, this latest one, as well. Now, how're we
gonna get down and dirty with the folks in the town? I'm gonna be goin'
alonga Harlan an' we're gonna be gettin' into a fight," Jinti beamed.
"That'll suit you, Chief," Richards grinned. "I'm sure me and Jadi can
come up with something, too."
Jadi waved her hand in the air, "How about...if I go as a slave girl and
Richards is my pimp? He can be trying to sell me." She held her hands
out, "I'm green-skinned enough to pass for an Orion, *they* wouldn't know
the difference."
"Zellers, have you bin on the hooch or sumthin'?" Jinti's eyes were wide.
"Thass a bit brazen, comin' from you."
"Hey, it could work, Chief," Richards piped up. "I could just let on I
was looking for a buyer, but not *actually* sell her, of course."
"You'd be darn well flyin' double shifts if'n ya *did*," Jinti warned
him. But she conceded, "It'd prob'ly work. An' you could sorta sniff out
any other illegal people-trade. Jist make enquiries like."
"I'll need to find something suitable to wear," Richards stroked his
chin.
"Yeah, ya ain't gonna look the real-deal if'n ya strut around in yer
Armani suits," Jinti pinged an empty coffee cup at him.
"I could get the replicators to make me a designer suit. That way, it'll
look really fake."
"Yeah, that'll work."
"I shan't need to wear anything much at *all*, " Jadi giggled.
"Now I *knows* yer bin on the hooch," Jinti muttered.
"How about names? Do we need to think up false names?" Richards was
getting into the swing of things.
"Nah," Jinti shook her head. "That'd only make it easier ta get caught
out, and we'd haveta remember lots of news names. Ain't worth botherin'.
We'll jist keep our own names. Keep it simple."
"I think this is going to be fun," Jadi was still enthusiastic.
Richards sat flexing his muscles, trying to perfect a 'pimp' sneer.
"I hope you guyz is takin' this seriously.." Jinti grumbled, before going
off to get a strong cup of coffee.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge =/\=
Chess looked with mild amusement at the helm crew as they plotted their
mission involvement. She didn't expect orthodox - she knew well enough by
now that orthodox didn't happen here.
All she hoped for was something that worked, no matter how off-the-wall.
Wanting solitude, she wandered back to her ready room. The ship was
making good time, and in two days they would be arriving in orbit over
Scavengers Hub.
It reminded her, in a way, of a mission she'd been on some years ago,
when the USS Enforcer had been present, and she and Stefan... but that
was a long time ago, and such thoughts weren't helpful right now.
Her disciplined mind was able to push them firmly away, and she began to
draw up a selection of locations for the crew to target.
For a start, the present owner/manager of the place - the latest
descendant of the Jackson Clan - lived in a mansion on the outskirts of
the Jackson's Whole. He would definitely be worthy of a visit, to present
their credentials if nothing else.
But she suspected that someone who had descended from such a long line of
toughened survivors must know *something* of the business happening
around the town. The only question was - as Zerin Fell had wondered
earlier - what was the level of his involvement?
Further into the town, there were two main bars that doubled as hotels
and lodging houses. The first, the bizarrely named 'Frog & Nightgown' was
at the north end of the main street. Some of them could take lodgings
there, as it was better to be amongst the locals, and become an accepted
presence.
The other, further towards the south end of town, revelled in the name of
"The Duck & Pizzle". She didn't want to enquire too hard into the origins
of either name.
In between were all manner of low-life bars, many situated down side
alleys leading off the main thoroughfare.
Further out, was the spaceport where smaller vessels landed, and their
crews poured into the towns, to do business, seek customers, make deals
and trade illicit items.
All sorts of trading posts were marked on the plan of Jackson's Whole. It
was going to be quite a task to sort through them - but maybe they would
get leads sooner rather than later.
Warehouses ringed the town, temporary and long-term storage
and *if* this so-called Resurrection Casket existed, it was
it was stored in one of them - they were the sort of places
out a key with no questions asked so long as the rental was
facilities,
likely that
that hired
paid.
The rest of the planetoid was a wasteland - allegedly. Although even
then, there could be unknown caves and hidden underground storage
houses...maybe they would have to take their investigations out of the
township, and then they would be in unprotected territory. That could be
difficult.
With a sigh, she turned to the legend of the pirates. Jed Torso has
apparently terrorised the spaceways with a robot crew - automatons, or
droids, re-calibrated to be killing machines. That might go some way to
explaining their invincibility. Oddly, there were no legends of buried
treasure, which would be the usual. Even more oddly, there were no real
records on file of how the pirates had been tamed, or met their end.
Maybe the answer to that, too, lay on Scavenger's Hub.
=/\= England, Earth - a few months into the future =/\=
The wind bit with Siberian bitterness through her thin top, as Mulder
trudged through the darkness.
Ahead of her, Spaghetti Juntion loomed, it's stream of traffic making
golden flashes that streamed along the multi layers of the freeway.
Orderly rows of hovercars flew past, their laser-locks glowing a dull red
as they were auto-guided towards their homewards destinations.
~How did it all come to this?~ she wondered rhetorically? ~When did it
all start?~
"Step one you say we need to talk He walks you say sit down it's just a
talk He smiles politely back at you"
But she knew, deep inside when it had started. Her mind just didn't want
to dwell on it.
"You stare politely right on through Some sort of window to your right As
he goes left and you stay right"
~Damn him to Hell and back ~ There was the irony. It was to Hell and back
they were all heading - all of her friends, her officers. Scattered
throughout the Sol System, their individual tasks a race against time, no
way to contact them.
"Between the lines of fear and blame And you begin to wonder why you
came"
But this part was hers alone, and it was her responsibility, she couldn't
ask anyone to take this cup from her. It was always going to be this way.
A debt she didn't owe, that had to be repaid.
"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness"
She turned underneath the freeway, into the dark jaw of the service
tunnels, where the wind whistled ever more fierce.
Kicking through the trash, she made her way to the spot she'd settled
earlier, against a grimy dumpster, Huddling down into it's side, trying
to ignore the stink of urine and rotting waste, she pulled sheets of
cardboard around her in vain effort to keep out the cold.
"And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a
life"
The hard concrete iced into her back. She could have eked out her
resources to take a room, but stubborness kept her here. That, and hoping
that whoever was watching her - and she thought it likely someone was would have to spend an equally uncomfortable night.
They wouldn't move until she had the information she needed. And that
wouldn't happen until tomorrow.
Was it going to be too late, though? The thought tortured her. ~If I'd
done things differently. If I'd trusted my own instincts, and not trusted
his. I should have stayed closer...been more vigilant...
"Let him know that you know best Cause after all you do know best Try to
slip past his defense Without granting innocence"
Along the underpass, a vagrant shuffled, muttering to himself, turning
over pieces of debris, looking for gold.
They were all looking for something. She leaned her head back against the
unyeilding cinderblocks, and let her mind wander, far away.
She
for
was
His
saw the laboratory on Luna, with Francois breaking in and searching
that elusive shred of evidence. Suppose he was caught? This wasn't
he'd joined Starfleet for - and yet, he hadn't hesitated, not once.
faith was warming, even so far away.
Had she been right to assign Mort to the skyskrapers of New York, where
somewhere, the man who knew enough was hiding out? This had been his home
ground, centuries ago, and there were enough preserved buildings and
landmarks to make him feel at home - she hoped. If he was a native New
Yorker, he would survive. She *had* to believe that.
And Baxter... with his security team, undercover at the shipbuilding
yards at Utopia Planitia...this was the sort of work they excelled in,
but it was so dangerous. One slip, and they were beyond help. She
believed in them - belief was all that kept her going.
She shouldn't
insight, knew
Even the fact
their favour.
their need.
have involved Dharma, and yet with a kind of karmic
that it had been inevitable, as so much of this had been.
that the former counsellor lived on Earth now had worked in
Maybe somehow, some way, the Ethiks of Fate had forseen
Sleep.. she would give anything to sleep, warm and safe. How long since
she had last slept? She chided herself, there was too much at stake here
to sleep. But there would come a reckoning, after all this was done..
"Lay down a list of what is wrong The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you And pray to God he hears you"
Her thoughts reached out, she sent them flying through the dank, foggy
air, trying to believe it was all going to work. It always had before.
Why, then, did she feel so uncertain this time?
"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a
life"
Because she was out of her depth, and she knew it. Her crazy crew, loyal
beyond all reason, could only know a part of this. He owed them, she owed
them, and this must be the last time, the very last time they had to lay
their lives on the line so far from home.
"As he begins to raise his voice You lower yours and grant him one last
choice Drive until you lose the road Or break with the ones you've
followed"
She ached for home - for BoB. It was safe, and in good hands, as far as
she knew. She wanted things back the way they were, back to the security
of how things had been. Before...
He will do one of two things He will admit to everything Or he'll say
he's just not the same And you'll begin to wonder why you came
"No more!" she shouted aloud, sending the vagrant scurrying back along
his pathway. She sounded as wild and feral as she looked. "It ends here."
It had been building too long. It would consume them all, if they didn't
end it here. This planet was their final battleground. If they lost here,
they would never be able to return to their home battleground.
Too much still to do.
"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a
life"
=/\= Docking Level 47 =/\=
The area was deserted, and Mulder walked quickly along, her footsteps
echoing on the iron gratings. "Commander Mattingly, meet me outside the
docking ring, we're going in."
"Aye, aye, Babe Sir," Baxter said. "What's the latest?"
"We've been given the all-clear, as far as we know it, by the Ops
department. Time to open that tin can up and see what's in there."
She made secondary calls, first to Francois, telling him it was time, and
secondly to Mort, giving him a brief synopsis of the events so far, and
asking them both to report to the docking level right away.
Mort was surprised to hear the Captain's request. He vaguely remembered
counselors being on hand for first contact events, so Mulder must be
reckoning on the possibility the ship carried intelligent life. He
arrived outside the docking bay and nodded to the others who had already
assembled their. Underneath his uniform he carried the phaser that had
been issued to him during the MU invasion, just in case. He also had a
souped up universal translator, though he had no idea how to work it.
François was looking at a report when he was call to the docking ring, to
be honest he knew what it was about and had brought gear for some
situation. the marine had left him several belts and other resources. He
was still dress in uniform but with the belts he seem and felt more like
a all purpose doctor ready for any situation, even combat. He saw the
captain with Baxter waiting as he came to the door.
"Hey Doc," Baxter said with a grin.
"Hey Baxt, how is everything..."
* * * *
Mulder drew her phaser - since both she and Baxter were routinely armed,
she hadn't told Mort or Francois to get themselves issued with a sidearm.
If she and Baxter couldn't cope with whatever was in there, then the
station was in more trouble than it knew.
"Mulder to Ops, let the ship commence docking," she closed the comm.
They watched as the ship, seemingly fully automated, attached itself
almost hungrily to the docking portals. Eventually it was done and Mulder
looked at the hatch, "Time to go in."
Mort's heart started beating faster, but was relieved when Baxter made it
clear Mort was not going to be shoved in first.
Baxter stepped forward and around the captain.
"Whatever happened to 'ladies first'?" she chuckled, poking Baxter in the
ribs. "Go on then."
Baxter maintained his grin. "You know the old story," he told them. "Men
are expendable, captains aren't."
Francois looked at Mort "Forget the lady first, what happen to the
official 1,2,3 go!"
"I never did have much go," Baxter said. "Guess that's why I'm here."
"Guess that's why we're all here!" he smirked.
He moved toward the door.
The door slid open with a few judders and they entered the alien craft.
They seemed to have walked right into an operations room. It was empty,
except for deceptively low-key machinery panels along the walls that
hummed quietly with life. But apart from that, nothing.
Mort squinted to see through the darkness. It reminded him of sneaking
through his great-aunt Clara's parlor after dark as a kid.
François took his tricorder out, trying to see what kind of reading he
could find making sure he stayed with the group.
"Quite a place," Baxter muttered keeping his phaser ready.
"Keep running scans all the way. I know it's *supposed* to be safe,
but.." Mulder was always sceptical.
Walking through to the next room, it was as deserted as the others. Zip.
Zilch. Just more wall panels, flashing with muted sequences. The silence
was almost overpowering.
"Who's running this operation?" Baxter asked. "Shouldn't something be
greeting us?"
"You'd think..." Mulder muttered.
"Bunnies, that would be funny and none aggressive" Francois smile at his
little joke, then thought if he could actually be funny on mission like
that.
Their boots sounded unnaturally loud on the metal stairwell as they
descended further into the ship. Mulder's hand must have brushed a
control, or maybe their presence triggered something off, because the
semi-darkness lifted, and the lights brightened, revealing the shocking
contents of the room...
"Great Ethiks," breathed Mulder.."What the HELL have we got here?"
A sparsely functional room was illuminated before them. The side walls
contained the same ubiquitous flat console panels. On either side of the
room were four bio beds.
It was the contents of the bio beds that had caused the surprise.
On each of the eight biobeds was a body. A human body, looking
particularly dead.
Along one side were four males. Alongside the other, four females. Each
looked to be human, adult, and unmarked. They were dressed in a simple
white tunic, and looked perfectly healthy - apart from the fact that not
one was breathing.
"Doctor - report," Mulder nodded to Francois to go forward with his
tricorder. "Commander Mattingly, have a quick scout round. *Someone* must
be piloting this thing. Lieutenant Feldman, check the consoles, see if
there's anything you can translate, and clues as to where they've come
from - or who they are."
François came close to the bodies, the tricorder gave the same reading
for all of them, they we're dead. Why did they died was also strange
because he couldn't define what kill them. Stasis was out of question
because the were no residues or link to any fields. They we're frozen
either, well of what he could see. He walk at the women try to figure out
why the we're decompose since any body after a few hours start showing
signs.
"Captain, you won't believe me but the only way I could say their dead is
that they have no pulse, the body are in perfect conditions, no sign of
death. I can prove that it's been a while become of the tissue molecular
structure but except from that...." he pause " You that what happen when
you use to product to look so ever so young, you died and you don't even
show for it." He winked then try to get some more readings.
"How bizarre," Mulder stared at the lifeless, perfectly preserved forms
on the slabs.
Mort did as the Captain asked and wandered over to one of the panels (the
one furthest away from the bodies, as they were creeping Mort out). There
seemed to be electronic life in them, but he couldn't make any sense of
the patterns of lights. There weren't any obvious buttons or other
controls, and pressing at the panel randomly did nothing. Other panels in
the room looked very similar.
"Captain, I can't make head nor tails of these panels." He should have
brought Sammy along, he thought. Sammy's the one with the technical mind.
"You and me both," Mulder sighed. "Maybe with more time, we can pull
things apart. *Someone* must be missing these people, unless it's some
bizarre sort of burial ritual." But that didn't explain why the bodies
hadn't decomposed.
Baxter's preliminary scout round hadn't evealed anything out of the
ordinary either, and so far no other signs of life - or death.
"Okay, we're out of here," Mulder came to a decision. "Doctor Bonnenfant,
I don't want these bodies moved just yet - and I definitely don't want
them in the infirmary until everything has been checked out. Over the
next few days, run tests, try and find out what their physiological
situation really is. You could also share your findings with the Boff
Squad in the science department, see if any ideas surface."
"Commander Mattingly, come back here with a small search party. I want
you to go through this ship from top to bottom, see if there *is* any
signs of life, or anyone hiding out. Go through every bulkhead panel if
needs be, leave no stone unturned. If there's any secrets in the ship, I
want them found."
She turned to Mort, "I'd like you to start some research, Lieutenant. Go
through all the computer databanks, see if there's any record of anything
like this showing up anywhere else. It's a big galaxy, it might take you
some time. Cross-check with any other sightings, and see what other races
have this style of burial - if that's what it is. Somewhere, there must
be some information."
She tapped her commbadge, "Mulder to Lieutenant Vega. I want a twentyfour seven guard put on this level. No-one unauthorised is to come in
here. We don't know enough yet to risk access. It's a quiet level, so
there shouldn't be many sightseers. Let's keep this area contained until
we know what we're looking at.
As she led the team back out of the ship and back onto the corridors of
BoB, Mulder was already sending the report for Vaughan's attention.
Fortunately, the dead don't rise and start shooting. Except if they're
killer mutant zombies, which didn't appear to be the problem here.
It was a mystery, certainly, but nothing too apparently dangerous.
In that last statement, she was of course completely wrong, as they would
all find out as the weeks passed...
-= Main Security =Alicia was sitting in her chair looking at the screens, running a routine
look at the security tapes. She had been a little worried about the ship
that had suddenly decided to park itself at BoB, but she knew the captain
Bax were on top of that. As she was sitting there she heard the captain
on her comm; "Mulder to Lieutenant Vega. I want a twenty-four seven guard
put on this level. No-one unauthorised is to come in here. We don't know
enough yet to risk access. It's a quiet level, so there shouldn't be many
sightseers. Let's keep this area contained until we know what we're
looking at."
"10-4." She turned to her roster to see who was on duty. There were four
patrols being run at the moment, two men in the armory, and three at the
brig, which had seen an influx in detainments recently. She sent a
message to four of them and split them up, sending them to the ship.
THen she went and grabbed a phaser, she was going to go down there
herself and help out. Not one to leave it to the enlisted men to do
things by themselves.
She was the first one there, minus one science crewman who seemed like he
had nothing better to do. "Crewman, this location is closed right now."
"Yes, I know, but I didn't have anything to do. Figured I'd see what the
commotion was around here."
"Ah yes. Everyone wants to lollygag." She straightened up her face. "Well
I'm not asking you to leave crewman. Remember, gold trumps stripes."
"Aye ma'am."
Vega stood there, waiting for the rest to arrive. But she was getting
impatient, and she also wanted to go inside. Againsts her better
judgement, she did so. "Wow..."
=^= the ship =^=
"Commander Mattingly, come back here with a small search party. I want
you to go through this ship from top to bottom, see if there *is* any
signs of life, or anyone hiding out. Go through every bulkhead panel if
needs be, leave no stone unturned. If there's any secrets in the ship, I
want them found."
Those words echoed in Baxter's head as he conducted the search. Top to
bottom. Ye gads. Bulkhead panel? That's where they were now. There was
simply nothing tangible to be found - nothing more than he'd already
seen, but he felt, well, he had that feeling that someone was watching
him.
"I can't understand it," the Klingon said. "There aren't even any
personal effects. Don't they wear pjamas or brush their teeth?"
The female with them giggled. "Do Klingons wear pjamas?" she asked.
"Of course not," was the reply.
"Okay," Baxter said, "we're going back to the hold and search again.
There has got to be something."
An hour later, there still wasn't anything and Baxter was becoming
cranky. "I wonder if Vega has come up with anything." He called her; she
hadn't.
The team continued to search. They went over everything twice, eventually
returning where the security computer expert was banging her head against
a panel.
"I take it no luck," Baxter said.
"None, Sir," she said. "This computer just won't interface with BoB's.
I've tried everything. I have discovered a couple of odd markings here on
the panel. No clue what they are, and I'm certainly not going to go
pushing everything I see to find out. I was hoping I could find an
explanation. They don't even have a manual. Big mystery."
"Keep trying," Baxter said. "Get some help."
Baxter sat down and called Mulder. "Captain Babe, no signs stowaways or
personal belongings. I'm going to bring in the fish to see if there's
some kind of secret compartment."
And he did so. Jyan Chera found himself with an entire security team at
his disposal. He went back over the ship, slowly, carefully, determined
to find something that Baxter had missed, determined to find something he
could loot. Even more determined to find something to put that Captain
Mulder in her place - at home, barefoot in the kitchen.
He pushed things, he pressed panels, he kicked stuff. Nothing. Nada.
Zilch. Parknora. Nothing.
"Well what the heck?" he said.
The security group shrugged.
Much later Baxter and Jyan sat by the computer expert who was pulling her
hair out and tried to come to some conclusion. "No one travels like
this," Jyan said. "Every culture has stuff. It's as if something just
sucked up all the clues."
"Yes," Baxter said. "And I have that eerie feeling I get when I see you."
"A good feeling then," Jyan said.
"Not exactly," Baxter replied.
Jyan got up and looked over the computer expert's shoulder. "Hmmm," he
said.
"I'm getting some coffee," she said getting up. "It's all yours."
"No," Baxter said, just a little too late.
Jyan pushed a sequence of keys and numbers. The computer screen
brightened, flashed and produced a lovely text message. It looked like
scribbles.
"What have you done?" the computer expert said coming closer. "Yes, this
is good. You can tell. It's some kind of language."
"It looks like nothing," Jyan said.
Baxter came closer. "Can you translate it?" he asked.
"I'll try, Sir, but it will take some time," she said. "What did you
push?"
Jyan shrugged and pointed out the keys. Then he and Baxter settled down
to watch. "I'd better call Mulder," Baxter said.
"Let me do it, Commander," Jyan said taking the comm. "Captain Mulder,"
he said firmly. "We've just found empty space, a lot like in your heart.
However, the security department has gotten the computer to reveal some
chicken scratches which they think they can read. If you ask me, their
IQs will have to enlarge somewhat to make that possible."
Baxter grabbed the communicator back. "We're working on a translation
Captain. Still nothing to report, as you heard. Please order Mr. Chera to
walk the plank."
=^= holodeck =^=
The wind swirled the sand in dangerous circles and obscured the view of
the large tent that was just ahead. The giant camel-like creature plodded
on toward its goal. At its feet, two tamars nimbly picked their way along
the sand.
The two figures riding were wrapped up in long white garments that
covered them from head to toe.
"Mfmfmds,fs,fd," the one in front said.
"Would you like to run that by me again?" Yus Omar-Mattingly yelled. The
wind was trying to outhowl her.
Baxter Mattingly lowered the cloth that covered his mouth. "I said, it's
just ahead of us, Yus," he replied. "I tried to redo the program on this
but it either rained or had the sandstorm. I decided to go with the
sandstorm."
"Wise choice," she replied grimly.
"It'll be worth it," he said. "Our mini vacation trip. Just you, me and
the tamars for two days. You're not still mad at me that I took away your
communicator so engineering can't find you, are you?"
"Just a little," Mrs Mattingly replied rather calmly.
He suspected she had another means of contact, but he didn't want to
search his wife, well not yet, anyway.
Yus was certain Baxter wouldn't find the DX177, regardless of how hard he
tried. Heck, he had no reason to even KNOW about it, so there was nothing
to worry about.
"There it is," he shouted over the wind. "Our secluded tent. Just like my
ancestors used to live in way back when. You'll love it. It even has
indoor plumbing. Ouch. I think there's a sand beetle in here with me. I
can't find it." He squirmed.
She grinned. "Are these garments really necessary?" she asked Baxter.
"They're supposed to keep the wind off and let you breathe," he stated.
"I think they're not a bad idea, at least until we get inside. Then you
can reveal your skimpy belly-dance outfit."
"My what?" She looked incredulous.
"Oh, you didn't bring one?" he asked.
"I would have, had I known what it looks like."
Just then the tamars loped ahead and disppeared into the tent. Baxter
shouted a command and the camel-creature dropped down in the sand. Baxter
slid off and helped Yus.
Then they made their way into the tent. It was lovely. Bright colors,
silk, cushions carpet, anything a person could need or want, all inside
the tent. Only the flap kept out the outside world.
The tamars had already settled down in the middle of the carpet. Baxter
tripped over McDougal. "Oof," he said. "I think it's time these things
came off. I can't see a thing. Maybe I could help you?"
He reached for Yus.
"I'm stuck," she admitted. Her garments had gotten tangled between her
arms and neck. "Damn thing won't come off."
"Here, I'll just pull it," he said, giving the material a yank.
"OWW!!" she yelled.
"Sorry," he replied. "I think it unwraps this way. Let me try again."
Baxter fumbled with the large garment that concealed the small Yus.
"There," he said.
She was finally free of the garment. Mrs Mattingly looked around in a
daze. "Where's your sand beetle, anyway?" she enquired politely.
"There," Baxter said watching a large beetle crawl toward the carpet edge
of the tent.
He ignored it and went toward his wife. "You know Yus," he said. "We're
all alone with nothing to do out here. Just you and me."
The tamars looked up.
"And them," Yus offered.
"We can do whatever we want without the fear of interruption," he said.
"Really? Anything?" She grinned.
"Anything, he replied.
Hidden, the DX177 was flashing. Outside the tent, two engineers were
making their way through the sand. "Why didn't she answer?" one asked.
"Keep walking. It can't be that far," the other replied.
Baxter gathered Yus into his arms. "How about a kiss Babe?" he asked.
"For what?" Yus asked pertinently.
"What do you mean for what?" he asked. "For the pure fun of it. So we can
start getting in the mood ..."
"Have you heard of this old retro song, 'Sk8er boi'?"
"What?" he asked. "No, it sounds weird."
"It just keeps playing in my head."
"Yus," Baxter said, "I wish a love song was playing in your head. What's
it about?"
"It's about this girl who refused to go out with a punk because she
thought she was too high for him. He went on to be a superstar and then
she regretted it."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Baxter asked.
"I'm glad I married you, that's all," she smiled impishly.
"I'm glad you married me, too," he said. "Speaking of which, did you
think you were too high for this punk?"
"Certainly not," she replied.
"You are, you know," he said. "I don't deserve you."
"Of course you do." She spied a whole basket of chocolate eggs which
Baxter had brought and selected one.
"I wouldn't trade you," he said. "I've never been happier."
"Me too," Yus agreed. "These chocolate eggs are really lovely."
"Well, if we had children," he stated.
"What about them, Baxter?" She was being seduced and she knew it, but
those damned chocolates were getting the best of her.
"You know, little engineers to fix the toilets," he said grinning.
"You're awful, Bax," she grinned back.
He smiled and unwrapped an egg for her. "Not that awful," he said. "It's
just that I've been having these marvelous dreams of a little Yus
following me around the quarters and calling me 'Daddy'. Nothing says
we'd be successful right away," he added. "We could just keep trying.
Like now ..."
Yus thought for a moment and smiled. "You do know that having a little
Yus following you around and calling you, 'Daddy' would be nothing but
trouble?"
"How so?" he asked.
"For instance, I just know that she will have you completely wrapped
around her little finger. Little girls tend to do that to their daddies,"
Yus warned knowingly.
"I can handle it Yus," he said with confidence of the uninitiated. "How
hard can it be to say no to a kid?"
She tried not to smirk. Fatherhood would teach him some lessons, she
supposed.
He kissed her neck. "Want some more chocolate?" he asked.
"Certainly," Yus accepted, "But what happens later will be completely at
your own risk."
"There's a perfectly nice bed over there," he added.
Yus laughed. "So there is."
Somewhere outside the engineers had taken a wrong turn and were being
chased by 12 camel riding bandits.
"Nothing is going to disturb us today," Baxter stated. "I have security."
"What do you mean, security?" Yus mumbled distractedly.
"Oh, just some wild bandits of the desert," he replied trying to get his
hand under her robe. "They're on patrol. You know, in case some of your
people wanted to find you."
"What makes you think they'd be looking for me?" Yus asked mildly.
"Engineers are like that," Baxter said. "I also had some special wiring
put in."
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"
Outside the holodeck an engineer said, "Ouch" as a panel zapped his
finger.
"Now my little Cadbury Easter egg," Baxter said moving closer. "The night
is young. Romance is in the air. Let's .... EAT! I'm starved."
Yus couldn't help herself. She laughed. "Okay, Baxter. What do we have?"
Baxter got up and walked over to a huge table set close to the floor.
Bunches of pillow were piled around it.
"Come on over Yus and take a pillow," he said. "We have galmora eyes,
brestian intestines cooked in lime sauce ..." He stopped, seeing her
look. "We have roast beef, vegetable lasagna, pizza, fried chicken,
potato salad and lots of chocolate desserts. I went to the bakery and
loaded up on them. Look, I even have apples and wine."
He grinned at her.
"You know how to spoil a woman, Bax," she chided him lovingly.
"I know I've said this before," he continued as he served her, "but you
are the best wife in the universe. I really don't know how you put up
with me. Now what do you really think about starting a family? Is it too
soon?"
"I don't think the world is ready for a combination of you and me, to be
honest. How do you feel about starting a family?"
"Well, I'm ready," he added.
"Then I'm ready as I'll ever be," Yus grinned at him.
Baxter lunged at Yus, missed and landed in an odd position on top of the
pillows. "Perhaps I'm not quite ready," he said, but his hand reached
over and moved her even closer.
"You could work on those tackling skills some," Yus murmured.
"Want to snuggle now?" he asked, kissing her neck.
She gave him a 'come hither' look.
"I thought so," he said. The tent went dark.
Outside the engineers were tied up in front of a fire surrounded by
bandits. All was well on BoB.
=^=Inirmary=^=
He was sitting in the research lab, waiting for the results of many tests
he had done on the bodies found on that strange alien ship. His first
mission, his first investigation. He was excited like a five year old
that receive his first bike. He remember when he was on the vineyard and
his babysitter was hidding bone of various form and he had to make a
excavation and tell her what dinosaur he had found. He smile alone as he
remember those mini dinosaur beside his bed.
"Test completed" the computer was finish and he got up quickly to go and
view the results on a bigger screen. The lab was now like a scene of
investigation with PADD , different liquids and other boards and various
material for his mystery.
"Computer, did you do anything special on these?" He ask because
something was strange, he couldn't define the cause of death and the dna
was all over the place.
"The perimeter were as program" said the computer
That's when he needed Mike, he was the expert on making him think outside
the box. Hopefully everything was going as plan on the Caledonia, He knew
mike was nervous but he was a social guy. "Redo the test with these
sample"
"define new perimeter"
"Try to isolate the 5 and 15 composite of the dna, locate the source of
these anomalies and compare them with normal human tissue"
"Define normal human tissue" Said the computer, it seem almost happy to
ask that question.
"Compare to all DNA sample taken during the physicals and compare on the
different levels"
"Some are none human" responded the computer
"Look are trying to make my life miserable for cryinf out loud, compare
to all DNA"
"Test started"
That's the part he hated the waiting and not knowing. Also he would need
to go back on the ship he needed more information on the bodies to see if
he could know what they die of...
He remember the class he had of Sherlock Holmes, all he needed now his a
hat...
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's office =/\=
Mort Feldman sat at his desk pondering the strange puzzle of the ship
with the bodies in it. Mulder had asked him to look into the possibility
of this being part of a burial ritual.
Of course, there was the well-known burial rite of the Vikings, burying
their chieftans with longships.
Mort wondered if this was the 25th century equivalent...interring your
dead in ships then setting them adrift in space. But then, this ship
wasn't exactly adrift, was it? According to the captain, it had actually
followed her to the starbase and attempted to dock itself. As if the
intellegence that had programmed it wanted somebody to find the ship's
ghoulish contents.
Then, there were the bodies themselves--dead, but not decomposing. And
not in stasis either, just...there. It struck Mort that all those
centuries he was frozen in a glacier he was in much the same state. He
imagined that Dr. Bonnenfant was examining them at this very moment.
Mort punched a few buttons on his console and prepared for a long day of
searching through the federation archives.
=/\= SB BoB - Infirmary =/\=
As she pored over the scant reports already gleaned from the mystery
ship, Mulder realised there was something she had neglected to do, from
her personnel caseload.
Tapping her commbadge, she said briskly, "Doctor Bonnenfant, report to
the CO's office at once, if you please."
Francois was in the middle of reading reports of the new mystery of the
ship that dock not so long ago. He needed to find answers actually he was
having the time of his life just being involved. " On my way" He got up
and went out of the infirmary. He walk by his new shop still in
construction and took a couple of roses from Sybil on his way up. He push
the chime next to the door.
"Come in, " Mulder was expecting him. Then she saw the flowers, "Doctor,
you're spoiling me, I'm sure I don't deserve all this attention."
He smile "Everyone need positive attention"
Mulder took them from him with a smile and said half-joking, "People will
think you're bribing me. It's a lovely treat, but don't feel obliged to
bring gifts. Just having a good worker on the station is gift enough for
me." She patted him on the shoulder, "Now, have a seat, there's something
I want to discuss with you."
"The action I make are by choice not because I feel I have too, what's
wrong?" He sat on the chair in front of her.
Mulder sat down herself and drew up something on her commconsole. "You've
been extra busy since you came here. I see you've taken - and passed both the medical refresher exam and the counselling basic."
"Yes, even brush up on my marine basic training, I'm starting to train
again with them. Just to stay in good shape and combat ready." He winked
"Just in case the dead wanted something..."
"And how did you find them? Useful?"
"I curious by nature, every information is good information, but to be
honest I think my career is as a doctor not a councillor," he scratched
his head. "Let's just say I would be too much in touch with their
emotion"
"Too involved, you mean? Yes, I understand. Emotions and work aren't
usually soul mates," Mulder spoke as if from some near but distant
memory. "No, best keep personal involvements far away from professional
life," she finished almost too quietly to hear.
"So what can I do for you, captain, I'm sure you didn't call me here for
a massage" He started laughing " As for the results of my research of the
beings on the ship, I'll have to come back I still searching for answers"
"That's fine, there's no mad urgent rush - at least, I hope not. I'd like
to get this mystery solved as soon as possible, so's we can send it to
wherever it needs to go, and give those dead bodies a proper burial,"
Mulder spoke with some mild distaste. As a Jaz'Aarian, it was customary
to dispose of corpses at the first available opportunity, and it always
seemed very unhygienic to have dead bodies around. But, at least, they
didn't seem to be causing any ill-health.
"No, I called you here to discuss your future," she said, back to the
business at hand.
"My future?, I'm planning on staying here ma'am" He was a bit on the
defensive, he didn't know what to expect from the woman in front of him.
"I've seen the start you've made with the Infirmary, and the way you've
put ideas in motion to improve and upgrade things. I do have the capacity
to appoint you upwards a grade, to Deputy Chief Medical Officer. It'll
mean you have exactly the same job as before, of course," she smiled.
"But at least you'll have a title and a slight upgrade in pay to go with
it."
"OH, well thank you captain, I'll do my best not to disappoint you! I
don't really care for the pay but will gladly try to make this station
the leading medical facility in this region" he smirked knowing they were
alone in this region.
"There's more," Mulder gave another smile. "On your feet, if you please."
He got up as he said "More, must be Christmas ahead of time"
She walked around the desk and pinned a small black rank pip on his
collar. "I think a promotion to Lieutenant Junior Grade will match your
new position quite nicely, don't you think?"
"I think so too...now I have to learn how to manage to promotion and
still my feet on the floor" He move closer " In France with give la bise
when a occasion like that happen , that's a warning!" he grin as he took
her hand and got closer for the two kisses one on each cheek.
Mulder looked faintly astonished, "I've experienced many different
reactions from crew over the years when I've promoted them - but *that's*
a new one, for sure," she blinked. "I'm glad that I didn't promote you in
public, I'm not sure what people would think."
"No worries, I'll make sure no one start rumours"
"They'd better not," she gave a mock glare. "Right then, Lieutenant
Bonnenfant. Time I let you get back to your duties and your research."
She nodded, "I think you'll do very well indeed in the position. When I
have more time, we can discuss further officer training for you. But
right now, I think it's all attention on this wretched weird ship."
"I agree, and thank you again for the vote of confidence" He got up and
walk toward the door. Before he left he turn and look at her and turn
back like he forgot to say something, but decided the time wasn't right.
Mulder gave him a half curious look, but didn't query him on it. For now,
there was too much to do, and too many puzzles to unravel in the working
world, without worrying about problems in the personal world.
She entered up the details of the promotion on her computer, and made it
official. There ere definitely parts of a CO's job that she wouldn't swap
for anything.
=^= BoB Infirmary =^=
François was looking at the four walls of his office, he had alot to do
but no motivation to do it. He felt like one of those days, where he
wanted fun , energy and the chance to be spontaneous.
A nurse walk in and seem surprise and even nervous that the doctor wasn't
pludge into his work and followed her with his bleu eyes. She made a
quick exit , that what made him decide he had to leave. He call viviane
in and told her he had to go back to his quarter. Without more
explanation he left.
The fisrt step was done, now for the spontaneous part, what could he do?
He wanted some cuddling, he would have to forget the captain for that
one, two other name pop up..Gigi the spanish queen and Lupha the blue
princess. Two choice, two at the time? The last meeting Gigi and Lupha
was interesting...But he saw how Lupha reacted to him in the op room.
He push his comm signal
"Bonnenfant to Lupha"
"Hello Doctor," Lupha's surprised voice came back over. "How can I help
you?"
"Busy? I would need some help with some wine..."
"Then it's lucky for you I'm off-duty," came the flustered reply.
* * * *
Making haste to tidy her hair and pull on a fresh top, Lupha darted
through the corridors to Francois' quarters, her mind in a whirl.
She hit the doorchime, and noticed that the door was open anyway...
He smile as the door to his quarter open...
"Um, I'm here.." Lupha looked both excited and shy. "I'm flattered you
wanted company and thought of me."
He took her by the arm and escorted her to his couch. The candles were
open and the ligth was keep to a minimum. " A beautiful princess
shouldn't stay hidden in her quarter."
"I wasn't hiding," Lupha protested. "I was about to go for a drink with
some of my co-workers. But your offer sounded more interesting.." She
didn't mention that her friends weren't as good-looking as Francois,
either.
He went and took another flute and fill it up with the a bleu liquid.
"Here, let's toast to candles, wine and fun!" He gave her the flute.
"Umm.. this is lovely," she gave a cautious smile, "But...why me?"
The doctor made a sign to sit down and sat beside her "Two years ago I
would had said because you we're lucky" His face was serious now " Things
change, we evolve, I mature, I've been running from my emotion since I
was a kid. Dating every women I knew, I saw, trying to loose myself in
another way of life." he paused " You never meet him, you are here
tonight because I wanted to see you, with no intetion just have wine" he
smiled.
Lupha nodded understandingly, and with real appreciation for his honesty.
"I think I know what you mean, and it makes you even more special in my
eyes."
All a sudden he became aware that she might have more feeling for him
then expected "Special?"
Lupha looked down at her drink, and then decided to be honest back with
him. "I've not really had much experience with boyfriends. My early life
back on my homeworld wasn't easy - I have *hair*, for goodness sakes.
Bolians don't *have* hair, not normal ones, anyway. I was always an odd
one out, a genetic accident, and I think even my parents were embarassed
at times. It made life hard, with people always staring and whispering."
"But I wouldn't see you without it, it make you so ....so...so princess
like" he wonk
"That's the thing," Lupha lifted her head defiantly, "I never thought to
get rid of it. It's *me* - it's who I am, and I don't ever want to be
ashamed of who I am. There have been one or two boyfriends, a long time
ago, but they never stayed around for long. I think I was a novelty to
them, but not the sort of girl that they'd marry, or become serious
about."
"yes, people espacially guys tend to be like that, life always as a way
to give you someone, don't worry it's not your time yet. Hair, no hair, I
seen enough species to be honest that it doesn't matter, but everyone as
a heart and emotion"
"Here, it's different," Lupha said slowly. "I can be who I am, because
everybody else is a little strange, or not quite usual. No-one even
thinks I'm anything strange, here. It's a wonderful feeling. And you you make me feel extra special," she gave a shy smile.
"Well I try too because you're extra special, I been here for a short
time and this crew as been more than welcoming to me, I just hope to make
better for everyone, you included" he poo more wine in his glass.
"I'll be even more honest, I think you're very attractive," Lupha said
boldly. "I know I couldn't have a relationship with you, even if I wanted
to, or even if you wanted to - because of the rank thing. But that's
okay. I can enjoy your company, and be a real friend to you. And you can
confide in me all you want, because whatever you say, will be in
confidence, and I'll never ruin our friendship by telling other people
what you've said," she gave a warm smile.
He almost choke on his wine, he wasn't expecting here to be so blunt
about it. "I apologize, I tough you we're more shy than that, but I
appreciate the honesty. I appreciate you alot, and be assure that I would
never bretray you either."
Lupha gave a quiet grin, "Oh, I'm blunt sure enough. You only have to ask
anyone I work with about *that*. But usually I get all tongue-tied when
it's something personal, not professional. I'm trying to cure myself of
it, and I think I just made my first breakthrough." She was glad she'd
ben honest. Now they knew where they stood, she couold openly enjoy his
presence without worrying about the protocols.
"I really enjoy being with you, I can be myself and leave the doctor at
the door, witch is nice once in a while..." He got up, "computer, play
track bonnefant 3" Some music started to play. "Care for a dance?" he put
his hand forward.
"And why not?" she took a quick fortyfying sip from her drink and placed
it carefully on the table as she stood up. "This is nice music - what is
it?"
"Venician valse, just relax and let you guide" He took a postion and made
her take a similar posture. "Now close you're eye and relax"
"I'll remember that." She let the music drift through the room as they
slowly danced. "This is nice," she said, content, as she drifted along
with the music. "You a a very impulsive person, aren't you? And I mean
that in a very nice way."
"My emotion guide my life, and emotion are very ...impulsive!" he started
to laugh. "I believe that if you're heart guide you, you'll always be
truth to yourself and that is what i'm interested in, be myself"
"I think you've made quite a exciting start," Lupha laughed. "Refreshing,
that's what it is. Another crazy guy to add to our already crazy crew.
Gotta love this place, and the people in it."
He made he spin like she was a leaf being guided by the wind. The music
was accelarating and so did his every move " hang on! " he started to
turn and tun and move, the sensation was quiet unique.
"Whoa..." Lupha wasn't ready for quite such a quick turn, and stumbled,
"That's me knocked out of Celebrity Come Dancing."
He put kind of drop her on the couch and fell beside her still laughing
"ok, I still need some pratice" he winked.
"I think we both do," she cheerfully agreed. "But it's okay. Dancing
should be about fun, not technique." She picked up her glass again.
"Here's to friendship," she clinked her glass against his.
"To friendship!!!" he raise his glass
"And to fun," she clinked again.
"And too fun!!"
"And to..." Lupha ran out of ideas. "Anything else we ought to have a
toast to?"
"Too promotions...yes you're looking at the new Lieutenant junior grade
and assistant chief of the infirmary!" He grin, wanted to keep it a
secret but couldn't stop himself in the moment "Don't tell anyone,
please"
Lupha did a little doible-take, then clapped her hands in delight,
"Congratulations. I'll let you be the one to let your staff know, of
course I will. That's wonderful news. To success," another toast.
"And too love, and emotions, and too strange crew!" he was really
starting to have no more ideas...
"To all that...." she did the final toast, and set her empty glass down.
"And now, I think I've had way too much to drink, so maybe a cup of
coffee...." she grinned as she wove a slightly unsteady path to the
replicator.
Parties were good. Getting to work without a hangover the next day was
even better.
=^= Starbase BoB - Outside ' Pigs in Space' =^=
Alexi Oliverez looked at himself in the reflection of the window by Pigs.
There were a lot of rumblings going on inside about stupid transport
merchants and Alexi had been listening. There also were glowing praises
about security and Captain Mulder.
His mind, however, was not on work. He'd discovered a concert for the
evening and then he planned a real-food meal for Ann and perhaps dancing.
Any time he could manage to squeeze out of the evening would be squeezed.
He looked up sensing her nearness.
"Ann," he said, "I'm glad you're here. I should have told you we're going
to a concert. It's about to start. Care to jog?"
Ann looked down at her feet, "It's a good job I'm not the type of woman
who totters around in high heels," she chuckled. She dressed very simply
for the occasion - low heeled black court shoes and a smart tailored
black dress, livened by a fresh flower she'd obtained from Blooming
Lovely. "Race you there!"
Startled, Alexi took off after her. Catching up, he said, "When I lose,
do I have to give you a prize?
"I can't win, actually, because I don't know what level we're supposed to
be going to," she laughed.
He laughed. "Two up from here," he said.
Slightly breathless, she leaned against the wall of the turbolift, "It
might be a little late to apologise for being late in the first place,"
she ginned. "You've no idea how quickly I shovelled Padds today. I swear
the wretched things were multiplying right in front of me."
"You're not all that late," he said. "Besides, you're worth waiting for."
He leaned close and kissed her cheek, as the lift doors opened and they
went in.
"So, this concert - who's playing?" she asked brightly.
A voice behind them attached to teens with purple hair said, "The Outer
Echoes from BiPark 4. They have the best music! You can't even hear your
neighbor."
The doors opened and the teens disembarked followed by Ann and Alexi.
"Actually," he said, "our concert is just around the corner and it's by
Mozart's Twins. I understand they do classical music with humor. I hope
you won't find it too old fashioned."
"Sounds...different." she nodded approvingly. "I don't usually make a
point of listening to classical, well, except background noise of course,
but I'm always up for something a little different. I once watched
'Second Shakespeare', a sort of parody of all his comedies, and it was
brilliant. So I don't think the classics are sacred like some might. I
shall probably enjoy it immensely."
Alexi smiled. "If it's too boring, we can move on to Phase 2 of our
mission - dinner," he added.
"Not at all, I *know* I'm going to enjoy it. After a manic day like I've
had, to be able to sit down and listen to some soothing music will be
absolutely wonderful," Ann gave a happy little sigh. "Where do you
suggest we eat afterwards?"
"I've arranged a reservation at the exclusive Ben's Diner where they
specialize in grease - hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries and all the
American diner food you could want. They even have milkshakes - all real
food. I checked."
"Oh, perfect. From classical sophistication to home-grown junk food," Ann
chuckled. "I love the simplicity of it. Yes, that will do fine," she
nodded.
"Also on the agenda, if you feel up to it, is an art gallery exhibition
and a little dancing," he inserted casually.
"Oh....woah....I'm not sure..." Ann looked a little tired suddenly, faced
with the onslaught of choices. "Alexi, the Art Gallery we had on the
station closed down at the end of last year - the Finn Gallery, that is.
As far as I'm aware it was never replaced, at least not on any worthwhile
scale. And you know me - after eating, dancing isn't totally my favourite
occupation. Maybe we could just go for a stroll after dinner, and then
see how we feel. A stroll, a nightcap in some little bar, and maybe a
dance or two then, when my meal's digested?"
"Do you have a bed time?" he asked.
Ann laughed out loud, "That's very forward of you, Alexi."
Alexi blushed. "I mean, well, that is to say, a time you need to get home
by. I don't want your son to send out the security department."
"I know what you meant," she chuckled, "Excuse me, it's bridge humour. We
always pick up the most salacious points we can. And the only bedtime I
have is the one I chose for myself. Not *too* late tonight, true, but I
don't have to answer to my son."
"How does he feel about us or hasn't the subject come up again?" Alexi
asked.
"Honestly? I haven't really discussed it with him, but I intend to. We're
family, and he's not only curious but a little wary, which I can
understand. Normally he and I would do something together my last night
here," it was a measure of her growing regard for Alexi that she had
decided to spend her last evening with him. "But, I've arrange to meet my
son for breakfast tomorrow, so we have a little family time before I
leave, and I shall tell him then," she nodded comfortably. Life had it's
little complications, but nothing she couldn't handle.
They entered the concert hall and Alexi produced his tickets. They were
escorted toward the second row. Unlike some concert halls, this one had
plush, comfortable seats. They sank into them.
"How was work?" he asked as they waited for the concert to begin.
Ann was busy trying to find a comfortable spot to sit in. It might have
had plush seats but this *was* BoB, and the seats were a little lumpy in
places - getting a comfortable one was a bit of a lottery. It didn't tilt
sideways like some of the patron's seats, although she thought she
detected a *slight* cant to the left.
Firmly wriggling until she got comfortable, she picked up on the
conversation, "Work? Hectic. And that was on my day off.. technically.
Just the usual prep for a departure, as we're due to be out for a couple
of months. Not difficult work, just lots of it. How about you?"
"I think a spring has come through this cushion and is poking me in the,
er, lower extremities," Alexi said. "Oh, about me? I've been studying
BoB's security department by joining a patrol. My feet hurt. They seemed
reluctant to stop for doughnuts."
"It must be an interesting job, travelling from place to place, building
up a portfolio of ideas," Ann mused.
"It is," Alexi said. "I'm enjoying the chance to see other departments at
work. It's amazing how each security chief follows the same rules but
does so with such a different outlook. Very interesting to see what works
and what doesn't."
At that moment the lights dimmed, and Ann leaned back in her seat, "Here
we go. I can now let my mind relax. What a glorious prospect," she
reached for Alexi's hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Thank you... for
choosing something that's exactly what I need."
"I'd hoped you'd enjoy yourself," he said, not removing his hand from
hers.
Ann smiled in the dim light, "I can tell I'm going to enjoy this
already."
"I've been enjoying this since you arrived," he stated. "Here we go."
^Diner^
The concert was both funny and musically good. They ended up, after the
standing ovation, by walking to the diner. Alexi holding Ann's hand like
a school boy.
The diner itself was out of 1950s earth with rock and roll music blaring
away. A gum chewing waitress, plopped menus in front of them along with
two glasses of ice water.
"I'm more hungry than I realised, and this is the perfect solution," Ann
sniffed the air delicately. "What is it with the smell of frying onions?
Utterly mouth-watering!"
"Frying everything," Alexi laughed. "I think the health inspectors must
be having fits."
"What'll it be?" the waitress asked smiling.
"I should like...hamburger with onions, a small portion of chips, or
fries, whatever you call them, and a side-salad and coleslaw. Coke to
drink, please - in a bottle, with a straw, if you serve it like that,"
Ann grinned. "Might as well do it right, huh? The only way to eat food
like this is absolutely without worrying about the calories."
"In that case," Alexi said, "I'll take the double hamburger with tomato
and onions, those same fries/chips, baked beans, potato salad and a huge
piece of your apple pie. Make my drink a coke, too, please."
"Coke comes from the soda fountain in a glass with a straw," the waitress
said. "I'll play a tune for you."
She went off and the next minute, "Baby I'm yours," began to play through
the diner.
"A classic," Alexi said, "Baby I'm yours until the stars no longer shine.
A good Russian song." He winked at Ann. "It's a family joke. My Russian
grandmother always insisted everything was done first, sung first and
made first in Russia.. Let's dance."
He stood up and held out his hand.
Ann was already on her feet before she realised, "There isn't a dance
floor..."
"We don't need a dance floor," he said.
"Right," she chuckled, "We'll dance here...and we're grown-ups so they
can't stop us." She leant her head on Alexi's shoulder, enjoying the
moment of happy cosiness, then ventured out into something more up-tempo.
They danced in the small part of the diner that was available for two
people to move about. The waitress watched them grinning. "I knew they
were that way," she told the cook with the rolled up sleeves and grease
on his apron.
"Sure Mavis, sure," he said. "Just don't get any ideas about tonight. I'm
tired."
Alexi held Ann closely. "You make me feel like a teen," he said. "Maybe I
should go syphon some gas out of the car ..."
Ann's merry, infectious laugh filled the air, "You are such fun, Alexi.
Was that the sort of thinking that keeps you a top security advisor?"
"Probably not," he said. "It's more like my unwavering determination to
get to the bottom of things. But if we were to be caught being kids, how
would you escape?"
"I'm alright, I can make a getaway on a fast ship.. you might have some
explaining to do, however..." she was still laughing. "And... just to
save you from your wicked ways, here's dinner."
"Ah, now my little chickadee you have escaped my clutches," he said.
"Food is always good to distract the wicked."
Ann slid back into her seat and took a drink of coke. "I can't understand
the notion that you have to get drunk to have a good time. With good
food, and good company, soft drinks are just as full of fizz as
champagne." She clinked her bottle with Alexi's.
"I'm not much of a drinker myself," Alexi said. "I'm not in favor of
anything that dulls the senses. Are you sure you can eat all that?"
"I'm more than ready for this," she was already reaching for the
condiments. "I like mayo to dunk my chips into. And brown sauce..." she
dotted the said items on her plate. "And of course, salt and vinegar on
the chips - gotta happen," she was sprinkling as she spoke.
Alexi laughed. "I never realized sandwiches and fries could be approached
so differently. Your English background and my American one have done
some diverging along food lines. I feel, actually, quite content about
it. I'll stick to my ketchup, but you know, I just might try that mayo
..."
For a moment, there was contented silence as they tucked in to the savory
aromatic piles of food. Ann was nearly half-way through her own plateful
before she re-surfaced. "I think I was hungrier than I realised," she
said with comical surprise.
"You forgot to be hungry," Alexi said. "It's the thrill of dancing in a
diner."
"I could forget about a lot of things in your company, Alexi," she gave a
cheeky grin. "Like being sensible, for one thing. Has anyone ever told
you what a wicked sense of fun you have?"
"It's not something the marines or my officers now have ever mentioned,"
Alexi said. "I think, Ann, it might just be you who brings it out. I seem
to enjoy everything with you. What about dessert?"
Ann was looking through the menu, "I'm not really one for sweet pies, but
I'm a sucker for ice-cream. Cherry..and chocolate. Now *that* would be
just heavenly.."
"Bring it on," Alexi told Mavis.
Ann's bowl of ice-cream was demolished as quickly as her main meal. "You
know, I don't think I've eaten since.. the last time," she chuckled. "I
have a very healthy appetite. Lucky I'm always on my feet running around
or the inches would creep on."
"It does seem to help you keep your figure," Alexi joked. "However,
wouldn't it be nice not to have to dash about wildly?"
"Ah, but is there such a thing as a 'quiet job', around these parts?" she
laughed, "I think not, somehow."
"I have to agree," he said. "I'd grow bored I'm afraid."
Leaning back in her seat, pleasantly full and content, Ann sighed, "Thank
you so much, that was absolutely wonderful. If I sit here now I'll
probably fall asleep already. How about a stroll? Somewhere pleasant we
can sit and chat. Have you tried BoB's arboretum yet?"
"A stroll sounds very nice," Alexi said. "And, no, I haven't seen the
arboretum. Shall we?"
He paid the bill and offered her his arm. The stroll was slow and the
eventual arrival at the arboretum increased the slowness. Hand-in-hand
they walked and looked, hardly talking. Alexi felt well satisfied.
Coming to a particularly beautiful spot, he came to a halt and turned to
Ann.
"I hope you don't mind, Ann," he said, "but as your son wasn't here to
warn me off, I'd very much like to kiss you."
He put his arms around her waist and held her closely. His lips found
hers.
Prepared for the romance of the situation this time, Ann responded
enthusiastically, knowing that something very special was happening in
her life, and wanting to enjoy the moment as long as she could.
Eventually, slowly, they drew apart, their smiles quietly shining in the
half-light of the sweetly scented setting. "That will be something to
remember when I disappear back into space tomorrow," Ann said with mixed
contentment and regret.
"I'd be very disappointed, Ann, if you ever disappeared from my life," he
said. "Consider yourself warned that my intentions, although honorable,
are undimished by further acquaintance."
A quiet laugh, "That sounds very definite - although a little
complicated."
"I mean, of course, that you make my heart sing," he said. "You will be
careful out there, right?"
She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, "I'm always careful.
Remember, I'm a mother as well as a Starfleet Officer. I have a son to
come back for, so I don't take foolish risks." She lifted her head and
gently touched his cheek, "And now I have someone else - someone special
- to come back for as well."
"Good," he said. "Now I'd better get you home. You have a full day
tomorrow. I'll be there to see you off."
"Yes,,," she sighed, "We leave at 1030 hours. Not too bad, it'll give me
time for breakfast with Morrie, and then I'll need to be on duty by 0830
for prep. So, if we meet at 0815 it'll just give us time to say hello and
goodbye. Or at least - goodbye for now," this time it was Ann who
initiated the kiss. "Just for luck," she whispered. "now, we'd better get
back, before I'm tempted to go AWOL."
Very reluctantly, Alexi escorted her back to her ship. The guards were
treated to another view of a kiss. And again, he watched until she
vanished from sight.
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
Tapping her latest logs into the processor, Mulder wondered how her teams
were doing. She didn't have to wait long for the first report.
"Commander Mattingly," she recognised the security chief's dulcet tones.
"How goes it?"
"Captain Babe, no signs stowaways or personal belongings. I'm going to
bring in the fish to see if there's some kind of secret compartment."
"The fish? Oh...oh, right..." she gave a dubious little growl. "Very
well. It takes one to know one, I guess. Go ahead, and let me know what
you find."
She tapped her fingers along the panel of her chair. It was so...odd.
Just plain odd. Still, in this part of space, odd was normal, but all the
same...
"Any luck with the scans?" she turned to Lupha, more to pass the time
than expecting any real answer.
Lupha realised this, and just smiled calmly. "No change. We're running
cyclic scans on everything inside, and if there's even the slightest
change in atmospheric density, or anything unidentifiable escaping into
the air, we'll know and will sound the alarm. So far, there's.. nothing."
"Yeah. That's what bothers me," Mulder frowned. "There ought to be
*something*. Those bodies.. ought to be decomposing, for a start. It's
not natural."
She wondered wistfully if she could get away with just shunting the ship
away and accidentally on purpose blowing it up. But, there were rules,
and unless it was obviously hostile, then she couldn't get away with
doing that. Yet.
An hour later, she heard the comm crackle into life again, and this time
frowned as she recognised the *new* voice.
Jyan said taking the comm. "Captain Mulder," he said firmly. "We've just
found empty space, a lot like in your heart. However, the security
department has gotten the computer to reveal some chicken scratches which
they think they can read. If you ask me, their IQs will have to enlarge
somewhat to make that possible."
Baxter grabbed the communicator back. "We're working on a translation
Captain. Still nothing to report, as you heard. Please order Mr. Chera to
walk the plank."
She gave a long intake of breath. The Chera man was an utter and complete
pain in the ass. She really would have to get Badger Gamble on his
case...
"It's an order I'm happy to give, Commander. You can make him walk the
plank, keelhaul him, or any other nautical nastiness you care to imagine.
I believe the modern day equivalent is to shove him out of an airlock."
~Wouldn't be the first time that's happened around here~ she thought with
grim satisfaction.
"Send the text over. We'll work on it this end as well," she pulled the
one small nugget of satisfaction from the conversation.
As the text rolled in she looked at Lupha and Morrie. "Get busy then, you
two. Run comparisons against everything we've got in the database, and
see if you can thump the UT into some sort of deciphering programme."
Although, she gloomily predicted, it would probably turn out to be some
funeral ditty, or an alien version of SS&U...
=/\= USS Caledonia - Jadi's Quarters =/\=
"So what d'you think?" the little green Anarian pilot did a twirl.
Richard's jaw dropped. "Blimey, that's... quite eye-popping."
Jadi just grinned. "But it works, right?"
"Holy hell, yeah it works. How am I supposed to resist selling you
dressed like *that*? I'd be crazy to refuse the money I'm going to be
offered..."
"I'll take that as a compliment..." she sat down on the small couch.
Richards could only nod, and stare. "Don't tell me you've been hiding
that outfit all this time?"
"Oh, it's just part of my national dress.." she started, then burst into
laughter. "Actually, it's what I used to wear when I took an exotic
dancing course. I flunked because I couldn't wiggle in all the right
places."
"Sometimes, you just floor me. God only knows what the Chief will say."
Jadi sat there smugly, pleased at being able to surprise him. The usually
quiet Anarian was resplendent in an approximation of a belly-dancer
costume - short, low-cut, very tight top with beads and sparkly edgings,
and volumous see-through gauzy pants, likewise edged with little beads
and bells. Her feet were thrust into more substantial boots, though.
"And I thought I'd wear a long thick cloak over the top, and just reveal
it for business purposes," she was continuing.
"That'll work. And you keep the cloak on until I say otherwise, okay?"
Richards was still looking dubious. "Else we might start a riot."
"What about you," Jadi tilted her head, "What are you wearing?"
"Wait right there," he held up a hand. "Give me two minutes."
He was actually gone five minutes, but re-appeared changed into his own
'disguise' outfit.
"Mmmmm yep, I think that will do it. You look.. flashy, but cheap," Jadi
nodded enthusiastically.
"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or horrified," Richards normal
surfer-dude elegance had gone out of the window. He was wearing a suit
made of cheap, shiny fabric. He, too, had no-nonsense working boots on
his feet, and slung around his waist was a holster with a variety of
weapons - most of which didn't work, but they looked good. He had a thick
leather jacket over the top and gave the general impression of someone
who has a toehold on what fashion is supposed to be, but keeps slipping
way beyond help.
"Oh, it works just fine for what we're supposed to be doing," Jadi was
seriously into the business of being quasi-undercover.
"Yeah...." Richards had also brought a couple of beers with him and
popped the tabs, handing one to Jadi. "You'd better get in practice. I
reckon that's all we'll be drinking down there."
"It's a hard life," she grinned, taking hers and also taking a hefty
swing. "So what d'you make of all this then? Seriously?"
"Seriously? I dunno," Richards flumped into an easy-chair and stretched
out. "It could be dangerous, let's not kid ourselves here. The type of
people that work there are dregs, tough as old boots and would slit your
throat for a strip of latinum."
"I mean, about this resurrection casket, or whatever it's supposed to be.
*Could* it be real?"
"Doubt it," Richards shrugged. "But the thing is, if people *think* it's
real, then it's probably as dangerous as if it were genuine."
"Good job I'm just the merchandise, then," Jadi grinned.
Richards shook his head and laughed quietly, "Don't you go crazy down
there. I mean it. We're there to get information, and that's that. I
don't want us to come back a pilot short."
"Instead of which you'll come back with a short pilot," Jadi couldn't
resist, even though Richards flicked beer at her.
"You better get changed back," he drained his can and stood up. "Don't go
giving everyone eyestrain before we leave."
"You don't think I could get away with wearing it on the bridge?" Jadi
feigned innocence.
"I think the Chief would probably kick your butt if you did."
"Mm yeah. Better not," she stood up, "Well clear off out then. I'm not
*really* for sale," she shooed him away.
"Jadi, you're priceless.." Richards chuckled as he left the room.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Captain's Quarters =/\=
At the same time as Jadi and Richards were having their conversation,
Chess was also trying out an outfit, only this time with an immediate
mission purpose.
Coming into the sector that was home to Scavenger's hub, she'd noticed a
few distant signals as they went, confirming that ships were busy in the
area.
Now she sat in a low-lit quarters, wearing a vaguely military jacket
almost incongruous with the scarf wound round her hair.
Uncharacteristically for her, she was smoking a cigarette as she flicked
through the various channels on her commconsole.
Eventually, a ship came past their radar close enough to warrant a hail,
which she did.
It was answered quickly enough, by a short, thickset Calamarian. "What
d'you want?"
She leaned back and gave a laconic smile. "Greetings to you, too. This is
the freetrader ship Caledonia, trying to pick your brains."
"Looks like a Starfleet ship to me.." he sniffed, then laughed, "Although
I don't think Starfleet ships have quite such interesting decorations on
their hulls these days."
"Heh, yeah, give the man a biscuit. It's ex-Starfleet, we bought her a
few years ago. She was going to be decommissioned but there's life left
in her yet."
The other ship had clearly been running scans, since the captain laughed
again, "Life? I'd say she's more on life support."
"Hey, she's good," Chess let indignation creep into her voice. "But yeah,
she does need a few repairs."
"We don't have anything to trade. Not right now," came back the reply,
which suggested that they *might*, if the price was right.
""Not asking for trade. I'm asking for information. There's supposed to
be a place called Scavenger's Hub around here. I hope I'm not on some
blasted wild goose chase." She let out a stream of smoke from her lips,
trickling slowly to fog up the picture.
"It's here. We've just come from there," the Calamarian admitted readily
enough. "Sure, you'll probably be able to pick up stuff. What's your line
of business anyway?"
"Whatever comes our way," Chess shrugged. "We'll take on commissions if
the price is right." he managed to look both smug and sly at the same
time. "Was hoping to combine a bit of trade and business at the same
time."
"Oh, you'll probably find both," the Calamarian gave a knowing smile.
"Good luck."
"Yeah. Thanks." She closed the comm, and stubbed out the cigarette
immediately, whilst freeing her hair with the other hand.
There was no doubt that the Calamarian would be on the comm back to
Scavenger's Hub right away - information was a currency too.
But that was fine. Let it be known that there were new marks heading in.
Better that their arrival was semi-expected, as familiarity, even secondhand, took the sharp edge off suspicion.
People would start to wonder what they could sell - or buy. And maybe,
just maybe, wonder if they were trading for more valuable goods.
She stood up, peeling off the jacket. Maybe another call tomorrow, if
there was a suitable ship passing.
Perhaps even now on Scavengers Hub there was someone looking to see what
use they might be. Someone with *very* valuable merchandise to sell...
Somehow, she didn't think it would be that easy. But it was a start.
=^= Infirmary =^=
François was in his quarter, wake up in the middle of the night in sweat.
Did he have a nightmare or was it just the wine he had with Lupha? No it
was deeper than that, he didn’t have empathic powers like his mother but
he had like a gut feeling, something was going to happen. He got up and
walks to go see the stars and was now awake. Was it the promotion or the
new duties, he was never promoted before or put “in charge” maybe that
was the issue. How could he direct people when he didn’t know what he was
looking for?
He looks at his work desk, what a mess. With the mystery ship, the
research, the new shop and his duties as doctor he had barely the time to
clean his quarter. He decided that now wasn’t the time, he would some
perspective in his life, some structure. But then again was he the type
of man to do that. Like he discuss with Lupha, he was lead by his
emotions, never knowing where to go until something told him, something
from his heart, the brain just gave him the logic and the tools to get
there. He was indeed an emotional guy, he was always scared to embrace
what he felt to the fullest.
His dad always said to him that he needs to control himself to get the
better of things. He always seem so in control, so prepared. Each time an
emergency was happening he smiled, he knew what to ask, what to do, what
to say. His mother in the other hand was always in touch with her
emotion, being a Betazoid it was natural to her. But again she was in
control, she knew where and when to show her emotions. He was the not
like them, his emotion was straightforward, never disguise, never
control. He reacted to them like a relationship between what he wanted
and what he could do. But now that he was the deputy chief medical
officer, he would need to hide this side of him. He would need to show
that he could stay calm in any situation and be open-minded. That he knew
was vital, too many leader he knew didn’t listen, didn’t care.
Going back to the star he didn’t know what the future was holding for
him, was he destine to better things or did he reach is full potential?
He look at his messon the desk, decide to clean it up anyway, enough
thinking. Here, in his quarter he could be what ever he wanted, witch
mean he couldn’t be what he’d hope, a control lieutenant junior grade
full of potential that would finish a career of success with a reputation
that would last long after his death. Here, he was Frank, the medical
officer with nothing to lose, nothing to gain, except the respect of his
coworkers and the love of a woman that will never know how he feels.
On that he said "Cheers!" and took the shot that was left on his table.
=/\= SB BoB - 0730 hours - Pigs In Space =/\=
"I guess, if it makes you happy, that's all that counts," Morrie fiddled
with his coffee cup."
Ann gave a slow smile, "Alexi does make me happy, but your happiness
matters to me more than I can say. I know it must be strange for you.."
"Mum, don't... I reckon you've earned a bit of happiness, you've always
been there for me..and I don't want to be a jerk about this," he reached
over and took his mother's hand. "Sorry, if that's how it's sounded. I
hope it works out for you. Really, I do."
She patted his hand, and returned to the remnants of her breakfast.
"That's settled then. Maybe next time we're on stopover - if Alexi is
around, we can all meet up, for a meal or something."
Morrie gave a bashful smile, "Now that's even more weird, but yeah, I'd
like that. Got to give him the once-over and seal of approval, haven't I?
It's a son's duty after all."
"Cheeky young wretch," Ann chuckled. "Alright, I'll hold you to that."
She checked her chronometer, "I'd better get going. I said I'd meet Alexi
to say goodbye just before departure."
"And I'm due back on duty. But first, I need to take a trip to the alien
ship," Morrie picked up his Padd as Ann paid the bill. "I want to see the
writing they discovered in it's original setting. I don't know if that'll
help, but we're stumped right now."
"I heard about that," they walked out of the cafe. "Would you like me to
take a look, too?" Ann offered after a moment's thought. "I could
download some of the writing, and run it through our own systems if I get
a minute. Maybe there's something in there that might hit onto a
translation. Although I doubt it, it's worth a try, maybe?"
"Sure," Morrie agreed, "Though access is very restricted. I'd need to
ask... the captain!" he broke off and did a quick about turn. He'd
spotted Mulder just coming down the steps from her office to pick up a
hot drink from Pigs.
"Captain...may I have a word?"
Mulder turned round as they approached. She smiled, it was always a
pleasant surprise to be accosted by agreeable people. "Good morning
Crewman. Lieutenant Bowers," she smiled at Ann. "You're shipping out
soon, I understand?"
"In a few hours, yes," Ann replied, then explained why Morrie had called
her.
"I don't see why not.." Mulder said, after considering the offer. "The
more people we have looking at the problem, the sooner someone might come
up with a lead. Sure, permission granted." She collected her cup of tea
from Shazza. "Have a good trip."
* * * * *
Approaching the docking portal ten minutes later, Morrie explained to the
security guard on duty why they'd come, and gave him the CO's
authorisation. They were let through without a hitch.
Entering the strange ship, Ann was looking around almost as wide-eyed as
Morrie. "Well, this is a strange situation, sure enough. Now where are
the - oh my goodness..." they'd entered the room with the bodies. "That's
just plain creepy," she declared.
"Isn't it just?" Morrie was already crossing over to the panel with the
alien text on. "I don't know why I thought this would help," he sighed.
"It's just..scribble."
"We'll see," Ann downloaded enough of it on her own Padd to store. "Isn't
there anything at all yet?"
"Nope. Nothing - and I mean nothing - corresponds to it. The algorithms
are just freaked out," Morrie shook his head.
"If only you people could talk," Ann paused over the nearest body, a
perfectly healthy looking male in his mid thirties, as far as she could
tell. "It's quite amazing. There's not a single mark on them."
"Yeah..." Morrie didn't want to get too close. "I don't like this room,"
he suddenly announced. "I feel like they're.. watching us."
"That's a bit fanciful, isn't it?" Ann chuckled, although now he'd
mentioned it, there *was* something eerie about the place. But then
again, eight dead bodies - especially such strange ones - were not
something that was helpful to ease of mind.
"I've got all I need, any way," Morrie walked quickly towards the exit.
Ann followed him, and felt a slight sense of relief to be back on the
scruffy corridors of BoB. As they left the area, she took a step towards
the turbolift. "I'm catching this one - then straight on board. Alexi is
meeting me at the entrance."
Not *quite* wanting to witness a fond farewell, Morrie simply enveloped
his mother in a bear hug. "You take care out there, okay?"
"I always do, son. I always do," she ruffled his hair. "All being well,
I'll see you in a couple of months time."
"Yeah. Let me know if anything happens with that translation your end."
"Sure I will. And likewise," she gave him one last affectionate hug
before they parted ways. "Don't get the station blown up or anything."
As if.."
"Hey, I know what this place is like. Oh, and try and be here and not in
some other universe, too.."
On a note of cheerful joshing, they went their separate ways.
=^= Infirmay =^=
François had more than one hundred results, all more complicated than the
other, every details , every possibility had been check and tested. He
had finally came up with a some answers, at least the start of answers.
The tip of the iceberg like his mother use to say, and once you see it
it's a question of time before you solve it. He had some issues with
algebra and logic, guess it came from being so emotional all the time. He
still had a bit of a dry mouth and headaque from the night with Lupha. It
went to pefection, he really enjoy being with her and also he finally
discover that she had a cruch on him, he would need to be more sensible
now, he didn't want to hurt her. She mention that the rank stood between
them, he knew the rule but he never quite understood it, if two people
love each other a stupid rank wouldn't stop them. That comment he would
keep to himself. "anyway back to work !" he said to himself. He needed a
second opinion, he heard of a couple of scientist but didn't remember
their location or their name all he had was the BOFF squad,
"Computer identify Boff squad"
"data unknown"
"Find scientist on this station"
The screen open up and some names appeared , but witch name was correct.
"Computer take those name and find those had any relation with doctor
Alleir and Captain mulder" The list shorten to a couple of name.
"Computer locate the first three". They were walking on the promenade.
"Doctor Bonnenfant to Tom, Richard or Harry"
"This is one of them," Tom chimed poking a slice of sauteed squid over a
hypo bunsen.
"Could you meet me in the infrimary please, I need to speak to you" He
really didn't know what to expect. Two clown are two really fancy
scientist on Bob you never knew.
"Certainly, we shall be there shortly," Tom replied. "Ladies," he stated
to the his fellow Boffs. "We have been called into play.
The doctor was aiting for the Boff team to come in,Viviane was suppose to
lead them to the research Lab. As he was looking at the presentation he
did for them the door open.
"Good afternoon gentlemen" As he walk toward them to shake their hand
"Nice to meet you, a pleasure, finally a fellow blue coat" Twittered Tom,
Dick and Harry.
"Please to meet you, sorry to have disturb you, but I would like you're
opinion! You're the boff team, rigth?" The doctor seem very involve in
the research.
"We es, yesss," Harry nodded.
"How, pray, may we help you, Doctor?" Tom enquired.
François realize did use his normal etiquette, he knew he was getting a
bit too much involve in his research. "Sorry about the lack of etiquette,
you need anything to drink, cofee, tea, water?"
"We shall worry about sustanence later," Tom answered with a smile. "You
require our assistance, and we are more than happy to help.
"We are," Dick nodded. "It's been such a while. We've been counting
amoeba far too long, was getting a bit weary."
"I've prepare a little presentation for you and was hoping that
afterwards we could discuss me theory and brainstrom to see if it correct
or if I miss something" He showed the chairs in front of the huge screen.
"Please take a seat and feel free to interupt me as much as you want"
"Certainly," was the chorus from the triumverate as they took the
proffered seats.
"Computer show presentation Bonnefant 1" He realize that he migth look
amateur to have call his prensentation #1 but it was the truth it was the
first one he ever did on the station.
Dick and Harry pulled out a padd and stylus as piece. Waiting in eager
anticipation.
"The intro will give you the big picture, we found 8 bodies, 4 female and
4 male. Like you can see here they're in perfect conditions and have no
mark of cause of death or decompositions" He said while pointing at the
image.
"Yall bey dowin' a powst mor-tem, then?" Harry enquired, champing at the
bit. "To find out what kelled them. Biological bases and all that. Look
at the organic material, de bodies. Den cor-alate wid the area..." He
hope his Irish brouge didn't confuse matters.
"I did, no decoloration, no injuries, organs seem fine. No fluid that
wasn't normal, all seem intact and ready to go"He handed his PADD with a
in depth description of the test he did.
"I would suggest that you take apart the location," Tom uttered as
spokesman. "To determine a Status Quo. May help to answer all your
questions, Doctor. Just to put it all in context."
François to his desk and was putting aside PAdd and other material "Their
is all the finding for the location, enviroment and other specifics. The
ship was in perfect shape, they seem almost place their in a perfect way.
The ship was empty and everything seem in good shape, in page three you
can see the panel and the inside of what we could consider the infirmary"
"With the biological chemistry," Started Dick, "You'll be looking into
that off course. Ingestion, both interms of active and passive. Poisons
and contangions, as a precaution."
"That's what become interesting, the didn't ingest anything that I could
detect but when I check closely to the blood sample, the DNA is wrong.
The 5, 15 and 23 line are not comperable to anything we know. They're not
human even if it seem that way, they are human like. He skip a few slide
and showed them the dna results."
There was a collective tilt of the head from all three in unison.
"Dey scene hast to be pro-cessed, and qweckly," Harry nodded. "Dey seem
pray-served, purr-fectly. But the area, way need to pull et apart en case
it fawls apart. Ets all very pecture purr-fect.
"that was my first impression, where they place there or was it plan by
them, because anything else would had leave a trace. Brutalty, force,
agression, you name it.So to resume, to toxin, poison or anything else,
the ship doesn't give us much, all I have is that DNA results, now I'm
open to any speculation you have" AS he put the slides on automatic.
"One would have to consider an exploration of the genetics databases,"
Tom stated. "Extrapolate the closet chromsomal match, perhaps?" He added.
"If you want we can go to the ship and you could see it for yourselves"
Trying to accomomate them as much as possible
The three boffs looked at one another, as though silently debating via
outlawed telepathy.
"That would be desirable, yes," Tom nodded. "We are ready when you are,
Doctor," he stated smiling.
-=- Earth, 37 Acaccia Avenue -="It's like you're a drug, like a demon I can't confront," Arihana sang
rather loudly as she walked on the treadmill. Yes, walked. Most people
ran.
Only she was having a leisurely walk, flicking through the BoB boys
calender that had accompanied her on journey to Earth.
"...running from you all the time, and I know, I gave you..."she trailed
off, arriving at one Baxter Mattingly, the would be matinee idol. "Time
to smell the cocoa," she mused to hop of the machinery and removing the
buds in her ears.
A few moments later, Arihana was the other side of the cellar and in her
study. Showered and changed, she tapped at few buttons. "Hello, BoB, or
Ops, rather. This is Arihana Dharma Reynolds, no hyphen. I'd like to
speak to Mrs.Mattingly, please, if it was possible," she stated with a
smile.
On the other side, someone summoned Yus. She appeared a moment later.
"Hey woman," Omar-Mattingly greeted irreverently.
"Mrs.Mattingly," Arihana greeted with wink. "Looking well, my lovely.
Still keeping our Bax in fresh chocolate?" she asked laughing.
"The other way round, actually," Yus replied. "So it's now
Dharma-Reynolds, huh?"
"No hyphen as it is a typographical error," Arihana shrugged. "That and I
quite like my name. Shall soon be corrected."
"Fair enough," Yus replied, questions forming in her head. "Anything I
can offer you?"
"Well, you see," she waved the calender on screen. "I was hoping to pinch
your brains. We have a situation."
"Talk to me." Yusrina Omar-Mattingly was all ears.
"First of all," Arihana bit her lip. "Promise me something?"
Yus paused and thought for a moment. "Yes?" she ventured.
"That this stays between me, you and the crank who has tapped this
channel," Arihana stated. "If the CO asks, I rang to borrow sugar."
"Sugar it is, Counsellor Dharma," Yus replied.
"'Kay," Arihana nodded. "Brace yerself."
"Spill."
"I had an affair. Two, actually." It came out in rapid succesion. "And my
husband has walked. Well. He's not longer around, put it that a-way."
"Oh my," Yus replied. "Nick? Would you like to talk about it?"
Arihana simply looked at the engineer. Somewhat unsure of whether or not
to continue.
"I'm guessing that's why you've contacted me."
"Yep," Arihana nodded. "I just wanted to check in with reality. That I
may have failed in actually saying my vows and meaning them. There were
still folks around who kept their word."
"Marriage isn't exactly easy. In fact, I recall you telling me that
once." Yus cocked her head slightly.
"I don't think marriage agrees with me," Arihana sat back in her seat a
little. "Or I don't agree with marriage. For my next trick, I'm gonna
live in sin. Shack up with some bloke."
"Some random soul?" Yus looked mystified. Arihana had the habit of doing
that to her.
"Not just some random bloke, Madam Mattingly," Arihana laughed out loud.
"Someone I know too well to not know any better."
"Oh dear," Yus interjected. "Who?" Somehow she had the feeling it was
going to be ...
"I'm going full circle. I'm a creature of habit. That Dhillon is
something of a bad habit," Arihana replied.
.... Dhillon Havane.
No prizes for guessing.
"Are you sure this is wise?" Yus wondered aloud.
"Why not?" Arihana asked in return, gesticulating like a Yiddish
matriarch. "Been there, done that, literally. Looks good in a T-shirt.
Also happens to be the father of my son. Your move."
"But you love Dhillon..?"
"What's love gotta do with it?" Arihana blinked with a sigh. "That word
makes my skin crawl."
"Oh really?" Yus raised an eyebrow.
"I made a mistake, Yusrina," Arihana looked straight at the engineer. "I
had a little piece of heaven, and I blew it. Baked my cake, iced it and
then failed to keep it. It was way too perfect, and that just aint me."
"So Nick is just another toyboy in your pursuit of exercise-in-the-sack?"
"Don't get me wrong, I will always love Nick. I married him for a
reason." She sighed deeply, to pick up a mug of tea from the side. "He is
not a notch on my bed post. Was the real deal, but true to form, I boobooed big style."
"Right. I'm missing something here, Ari. Enlighten me - you're not
together anymore because he's a lovely guy?"
"He was lovely, *too* lovely, I’m not gonna slander the poor guy,"
Arihana pulled a disconsolate face. "Too much of a good thing, and I
couldn't handle it. Good guys are good, but bad guys are better."
"I still think my sex slave would be regarded as a good guy altogether,"
Yus mused, not convinced that bad boys were the rage.
"Your Bax is a legend," Arihana poked out her tongue, "and taken, so no
problem there."
"A legend?" Yus smiled mischiveously. "For signing a legal certificate
agreeing to be my personal and permanent toy-boy?"
"Hey, you make me sound like a certifiable nympho with loose knicker
elastic," Arihana nearly choked on her tea.
"I *know* what you meant," Yus replied, rolling her eyes affectionately
at the unpredictable Arihana Dharma. "Was just teasing you."
Arihana chuckled quietly. "Just stick it on BoBs' Billboards."
"Certainly," Yus concurred. "And was it brown or white, by the way?"
"Sorry?" Arihana blinked again, sipping her tea.
"The sugar you were supposed to be borrowing.." Yus reminded, her eyes
twinkling.
"Oh, yes," she started with nod. "Brown. Unrefined molasses. Sweet but a
bit rough 'round the edges."
"Are we talking about sugar or the male species?" Yus grinned, very
amused.
"Did you call?" There were thundering footsteps down the stairs into the
study. "Only I'm brown, sweet and a bit rough around the edges...."The
Yorkshire vernacular had hardened since Dhillon had gone back to Pudsey.
He peered around the screen to wave at Yus. "BoBs' brightest blonde
Bombshell. Hi, bye," he waved with a grin. He was passing through for the
sixth time this month.
Yus waved in greeting. "Hey Dhillon."
"You mind?" Arihana looked above the image of the engineer and at
Dhillon. "Flip off, Dhil. I'm busy. Go wax Gerty mark ten or
something...."her eyes narrowed in slight annoyance.
Dhillon simply poked his tongue out, before grinning back at Yus. "Miss
Whiplash is the mother of my son. The poor kid is doomed." He winked
before thundering back up the stairs.
"Undoubtedly," Yus agreed.
"Ahem," Arihana shook her head. "Shall beat him with a stick later. But
yes. Sugar," she added with a nod.
"Let's not get into that," Yus suggested. "You just rang to borrow brown
sugar and I didn't have any."
"Take care, Yus. And thank you," she smiled alittle. "For listening."
"Don't mention it, Ari," Yus replied.
"I could send you a cheque for chocolate... that reminds me....."Arihana
tapped a couple of buttons. "These are design schematics for a photon
fuelled diagnostics centre. Catch...."
Yus sprang into action. "Where did you get them?" she asked.
"Daddy Darling produced one too many, and sent me one," Arihana shrugged
as though she would never know which end worked or didn't. "It's
apparently quite good. Runs Spec analysis and carries out Positron
emission tomography at quick speed..."her eyes glazed over. "Want it?
It's only taking up space in the potting shed until Dhillon ships it
someplace useful."
"Do I want it? Do I want to breathe? Please!"
"All yours, with a cherry on top. No charge." Arihana grinned with
relief.
"Thanks, girlfriend. I owe you one," Yus was delighted.
"Love to all, Yus," Arihana waved. "Tatty bye for now!"
"Get your ass back here as soon as you can, Arihana Dharma."
=/\= BoB - Lower Depths =/\=
"Why do I have to carry the smelly stuff?" Noel Fielding complained,
lugging the heavy back-pack along with him.
"Because, my young friend, you are the apprentice," Russ grandly
explained. "Now, let us track our quarry... be sneaky, be invisible,
blend into the scenery."
Since the scenery in question was the dingy halls of BoB, and the two
Goth Detectives were wearing a combination (between them) of purple
frock-coat, black leather jeans, leopard-skin jacket and red leather
jeans, this was not as simple as task as it should have been.
Having noted that the Chief Engineer took her tamar for walks along the
more quiet byways of BoB, they were tracking her.
"So, we follow her... and lure the dog away?" Noel wanted to get the
details right.
"It's a tamar, not a dog. Wait for her to let it off it's leash, and then
we cunningly pounce, set a trail, it disappears, and we 'discover' the
distressed lady looking for her pet. We offer our services - for a modest
fee of course - then after a few hours, return the pet safe and sound. It
couldn't be easier..." Russ gave a satisfied smirk.
"Here she comes..." Noel warned, and they popped their heads back around
the corner.
Yus tugged gently at Nameless' leash. Her tamar had the habit of
wandering aimlessly and sniffing every corner.
"Here, girl!" she said firmly. Nameless followed sulkily, if it was
possible for a tamar to look sulky.
Tip-toeing along behind them, Russ nudged Noel. "Meat, big and juicy,
ready to throw..."
"Ewwww...." Noel fished out a soggy lump of steak-a-like. "Alright, here
goes...." he threw it down on the floor with a soft plop so the scent
would reach the tamar.
Nameless had paused at the corridor. She had caught a scent of MacDougal,
who had obviously been marking territory. Looking up, she noted her
mistress, a few yards ahead of her had stopped to read a notice on the
board.
It wouldn't hurt to dally a little, Nameless figured to her doggy self.
After all, her mistress had released her from the leash and couldn't
smack her if she didn't heel to immediately.
At that moment, she heard a soft plop. Her ears pricked up cautiously as
she tried to locate the source of the sound. Then the smell overtook her.
She took a step nearer.
Baxter used to feed her and MacDougal with random little pieces if both
the two tamars were smart enough to wander around the kitchen when he was
cooking.
She sniffed at the morsel. It smelt a little strong, but she licked it
anyway.
It didn't taste too bad so she chewed it. And swallowed it. She looked
up.
"More, more.." Noel exhorted himself, as he threw little gobbets down
along the corridor.
Nameless was hungry. She was usually fed after Yus took her for her walk,
and today, she was famished. Baxter was busy and she didn't receive her
normal ration of tidbits which he usually offered her and MacDougal.
And Yus, being Yus, believed in giving tamars only square, nutritious
meal a day as per the tamar manual.
So Nameless pounced on the morsels, oblivious that each morsel was taking
her further from her mistress and onto a premeditated path.
"Ready the hatch," Russ opened a large chute covering that he'd unscrewed
earlier in the day. "When that animal shows up, throw the rest through
the hatch, and get ready to run."
Nameless looked expectantly at her seemingly benevolent meat-donors. They
seemed to have an endless supply so she moved hungrily in their
direction.
Seeing the animal bounding towards them, Noel threw the rest of the
dubious meat through the hatch, and as soon as the tamar bounded through,
slammed it shut. All they could hear was the gobbling of a hungry animal
as it devoured it's prey.
"Now...get behind the next corner, and see if she's noticed it's missing
yet," Russ hissed, and the two wanna-be conmen scarpered quickly.
Yus had finished reading a notice on baby-sitting services. She broodily
wondered how to select the right person to care for her child if she had
Baxter decided to have one sometime in the not so near future.
She didn't know if the base allowed children to follow their parents to
work. She'd have to talk to Captain Mulder one day.
Come to think of it, there were quite a few things she'd need to discuss
with the woman. Some requisitions hadn't arrived yet. It was probably
wise to check out a report or two before she headed back to her quarters,
she figured.
She looked around and whistled for Nameless. Expecting a bounding
creature hurling itself at her, she was surprised for a moment.
Then she whistled again. Frowning, she traced her steps. That tamar
certainly liked to take her own time. Turning round the corner, she was
alarmed to see no sign of the animal.
"Nameless!" she called, her voice mixed with alarm and annoyance. "Heel,
girl!"
There was no response. A stray paper rustled on the ground. She kicked it
absently and walked on.
She wondered if she should call Baxter.
Hidden around the corner, Russ nudged Noel. "Plan B," he whispered. "And
leave the talking to me!"
"Uhhh yeah..." Noel nodded vigorously, not at all sure how this bit was
supposed to go.
Swinging around the corner, Russ spotted Yus and made a flamboyant bow in
her direction. "Good day to you, madam. A fine morning, I must say."
She must have headed to the Promenade, Yus deduced, still thinking of
Nameless. "Uh yeah, good day," she replied distractedly.
Reaching sideways with one hand Russ grabbed Noel's collar and yanked him
into view, so he popped into sight like a jack-in-the-box. "Allow me to
present my friend and colleague, madam. Out taking a stroll before
breakfast. We are...the station-renowned Goth Detectives," he announced
as if everyone knew their name.
Yus rubbed her aching forehead. "Pleased to mee-" she began absently
before collecting herself. "Renowned? I've never heard of you boys."
"Oh? You haven't? No matter, madam, we're quite new to business here. But
I am stopping you from continuing your business," Russ pretended to be
politely distressed. "I'm sure a charming and, dare I say, intelligent
young woman such as yourself would never find herself in need of
detectives."
"I don't know," Yus muttered, her mind still far away.
Noel opened his mouth as if to speak, but caught Russ's elbow to his
ribs, so he just spluttered instead. "We investigate...everything.." Russ
said grandly."One of our main specialities, for those unfortunates who
lose a beloved pet, is...pet detection. Yes, indeed, we are also...pet
detectives."
"So if you ever lose a pet, then we're the people to call," Noel
succeeded in putting in.
"Pet?" Yus jerked her head. "It just happens that I lost a pet today."
She was unbelievably suspicious.
"Really?" Russ feigned surprise. "You have? How very, very fortunate you
met us, madam. I'm sure we can clear this business up for you within..."
he pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to make a prediction.
"...within twenty-four hours. Yes, indeed. We shall return your lost pet
to you. For a modest fee, sign here please..." Russ whisked out a form
from under his jacket. "Standard rate. Terms and conditions apply...."
Yus raised her eyebrows. Who walked around the base with a contract for
recovering lost pets? "What on earth?" she interjected rather shrilly.
At that moment, Nameless heard the voice of her mistress.
What might have happened next will never be known, as from the depths of
the bulkheads, came a sudden barking, growling sound - unmistakable to
anyone who knew as a tamar.
"That. That noise. What's that?" The Chief Engineer was getting quite
agitated. She was fairly certain her tamar was close by but why didn't it
come when she called? "Nameless!"
Russ tried to cough loudly, "Noise? What noise? I didn't hear
anything..."
"THAT NOISE," Yus bellowed. "That was Nameless!"
Noel burst into a tuneless 'Lalalalalalalaaaaa lovely moriniiiiing,"
whilst Russ made a great show of stamping his feet - loudly - and
declaring "how COLD IT IS TODAY." The barking got louder too.
"Sorry?" Russ cupped a hand behind his ear. "I can't hear you?"
"What have you done with my tamar, you fools!" Yus yelled, loud enough to
wake the dead.
There was an instant silence. Even Nameless was quiet. Russ tried to look
hugely innocent, "Tamar? Your tamar? Done with it? Us? What tamar? Where
tamar?"
"Would you like to pick up the scattered fragments of your skull, boy?"
Yus menaced toward them with gritted teeth. Her threat certainly jogged
his memory.
"Ah, yes, *that* tamar. The one you were just about to hire us to
find..." Russ could sense his cunning plan slipping horribly away by the
minute. "Umm.. what was that about a tamar again?" he desperately tried,
but at that moment Nameless uttered a furious volley of barks.
Russ and Noel looked at each other with shifty eyes. "Ahhhh now that
sounds, yeah, like a tamar..." Russ gloomily admitted.
"Find it."
"We could try looking along here," Noel was a bit scared of the angry
young engineer, and wanted it over and done. "It's an old station. Um.
Yeah. Sometimes animals get...trapped."
"By accident," Russ hastily added. "Yes, by accident."
"By accident, I'm sure," Yus retorted icily.
"Aha!" Noel's cry of 'surprise' sounded pathetically false even to his
own ears. "Well, well, well.... look here, a panel..that isn't quite on
straight.." he gave it a pull, exactly the reverse of how he'd closed it.
There was a resounding woof as Nameless bounded out and straight to Yus.
The Goth Detectives sighed.
Yus almost fell over as Nameless hurled herself on her mistress. "You're
safe now, girl," she soothed, rubbing her tamar.
Looking up at the two 'rescuers', she said sarcastically, "Thank you for
the help and good day." It was pointless to accuse them of something she
couldn't prove, but it wouldn't be the last they heard of her, she vowed
to herself.
Nameless cast them both a baleful glare.
"Ahh yes, so glad to have been of assistance," Russ resorted to false
gallantry. "Stay safe out there. have a nice day. So long, Farewell, Auf
Wiedersehen, good byeee...."
"Come on, Nameless," she set off with her tamar safely on a leash.
They both waved limply as Yus departed.
"Uhh, that went well.." Noel began, but was stopped by a withering glare
from Russ. "Okay, it could have been better."
Undeterred, his natural idiotic optimism rising to the fore, Russ gave a
contented smile. "We learn, my friend. We learn and perfect our art. Next
time.. it will be different."
"You mean..next time....?"
"Yes. Next time - we set our sights higher. The XO's dog it shall be."
Whistling merrily albeit tunelessly, they walked back to their premises
on the main Promenade.
=^= Sickbay =^=
Mike was at the door of sickbay, he had to go in and give a report to his
troops. The fact is , he didn't know how! He didn't even grasp the
mission yet, he knew he had to go to the surface and make sure to like
the locals and get some informations. He had also to find that device
that made people "eternal" if it existed. He took a big breath and went
in, as he did he felt the eyes of Carol and Tol looking at him.
"Good afternoon, lady and gentleman" He smile
"Good morning !" said Tol in a happy voice
"Good morning" Carol said in a dry voice.
"Could I talk to you for a few minutes, I'm back from the briefing eith
the captain" He didn't want to mention the senior officers, he was far
from senior. He took a seat and try to look relax.
"what going on Mike" said Tol, he was starting to have a good
relationship with the medical officer from Starbase Bob. They had a few
chances to get together and speak about other things then medicine.
"Well we're going toward a place call Scavengers Hub and it's own by a
family, the jackson if I recall. It as a single city Jackson whole"
"Charming" said the head nurse in a serious tone.
"The a casket that supposedly ressurect people. The Jackson family were
and still think they're pirates, Legend says that that's how they bought
the place. The leader Jeb Torso seem to have died many time but came back
to life."
"Nice legend, are you sure it's true" Said carol in a doubtful tone.
"Well the captain think so, It might be advanced technology that was
steal from another race" he clear his voice "At this point we don't know,
that's why we're going."
"So what can we do for you" Tol was looking at Carol when he said *we*.
"Well I think we would like to know everything there is on resurections,
in different culture and technology. How it happen and why. Also we need
to be able to know what type of technology , energy or else would be
needed for that type of artefact."
"Wouldn't that be a engineer place" said carol.
Mike tough at that point think neede to be clearer between him and the
staff " Look Carol, i'm new here that's true, you have the rigth to doubt
me, shit, you have the rigth to even hate me, but I think it would be
easier if we work together as a team and trusted each other, don't answer
now , just think about it"
"I'll see first what you can do" respond Carol
"Good enough but for now could you stop questioning my every word,
please"
"Yes" Carol gave a short and dry answer
"Ok people, let's get to work and I'll need some clothing to fit in that
place, anyone have ideas?"
Carol smile " I'll take care of it"
Mike saw her smile, he didn't know what she had plan but knew the only
way to have her trust was in return to trust her. "Excellent, I leave my
faith into you're hands.
=/\= SB BoB - 'Pigs in Space' Cafe =/\=
"Crew cutbacks? I should say. Did you hear about the USS Sparta? They've
been reduced to 300. How the hell you can manage a galaxy class with so
few, I really don't know," Captain Cadwallader stirred her coffee.
"Don't know that ship," Mulder flipped back, "Never will. It couldn't be
worse than the Caledonia. Still running on barely two dozen. Now *that's*
cutbacks."
"She's not from this sector," Caddie shrugged, "But an old Academy pal of
mine serves there."
The two CO's were having their now customary pre-departure coffee and
gossip session that morning.
"So what's new on board?" Mulder asked. "It's so peaceful here right now,
it's like we're waiting for a storm to break."
"You mean, apart from the alien ship with the unidentified dead bodies in
it?" Caddie chuckled.
"Well, yeah, apart from *that*..." Mulder grinned. "I was talking more
personal-wise. It's hard to imagine, last year we had two weddings and
several funerals."
"How are all the newly-weds?"
"Commander Mattingly and Lieutenant Omar Mattingly are happy and
settled," Mulder replied. "And of course Counsellor Dharma moved to Earth
after she married the former Gamma Fleet CO. So I doubt I'll ever see her
again."
"Never say never..." Caddie warned. "And speaking of romance, I've got
one I bet you don't know about. This Gamma Fleet Security Advisor that's
here right now..."
"Commander Oliverez?" Mulder's ears perked up. "What's he done? Or doing?
And to who?"
"My Ops Chief," Caddie replied smugly. "Lieutenant Ann Bowers."
"Bowers? Yes, I know her," Mulder clicked her fingers, "She's the mother
of one of my young Ops Crewmen. Well, well, well.... I think they ought
to issue a warning at Starbase Raven." She laughed quietly. "Be Aware,
visiting Starbase BoB can seriously affect your relationship status."
"Or your sanity," Caddie murmured irreverently.
"Hey, we don't do so bad," Mulder protested. "Okay, so the Former GFCO
had his memory erased for a month, and the Security Advisor nearly got
frozen to death by the alien ice creatures, but they all survived."
"Riiiight," Caddie smirked, then looked serious, "That memory loss
episode you just mentioned - the Colsus caused that, didn't they? Did
anyone ever get their memory back?"
"Nope,' Mulder shook her head emphatically. "I'm sure everyone behaved
themselves admirably, though, even though they didn't know who the heck
they were or why they were here. True Starfleet traditions and all that."
he tried to keep a straight face.
"In a pigs ear," Caddie snorted. "What about *you*? Any snippets ever
come back?"
"Well.. yes and no and maybe.." Mulder slowly replied. "For the first few
weeks afterwards, I kept getting..impressions. Maybe a word, or a scent,
or just being somewhere I felt I'd been before with someone else.." she
frowned in concentration. "And sometimes in my quarters, I had the odd
feeling that something...was missing." ~Someone was missing~ she silently
told herself. ~Be honest, you felt that some*one* was missing. And when
he....~. But, that wasn't a road she planned to go down. Not now, not
ever, if she could help it.
"And now?" Caddie was still talking.
"No.. not so much, if at all..." Mulder said honest bafflement. "It's
faded away, for the most part." She knew that there were still deep
impressions buried inside her, but.. "No, hardly anything," she replied
more firmly.
Caddie gave her a knowing look, but said no more on the subject. "I ought
to get going," she finished her coffee and stretched. "I hope you people
will stay out of trouble - we're going to be ought for a month or two
now. I've got a big border patrol exercise planned in a few weeks time,
and everyone is clocking their routes pretty quick right now. In fact, I
don't think we've got any ships slated to cover BoB for several weeks."
"We've always managed just fine before," Mulder flicked a few cake crumbs
at her friend.
"Sure you have..." Caddie snickered. "Where would you be without us?"
"Probably invading Sayl'reth Prime, just for kicks," came the flippant
reply.
Caddie rolled her eyes and laughed as she stood up. "Right. The scary
thing is, that isn't so far from the truth, I'll bet."
"Hope you don't have any more trouble with the Orion Cartel that's
operating in this area," Mulder spoke more seriously now as she wandered
towards the turbolift with Caddie. "You know what they did to the new
cartel that tried to move in. Grisly."
"Yeah, I saw something about that." Caddie waited for the doors to open.
"But we're not worried. After Brownwen's death last year, we introduced
newer procedures." her face was grim. "I pity the idiots that try and
mess with us next."
Mulder bit back the comment she was going to make, and just nodded, "Give
'em hell," as she raised a hand in farewell.
She walked slowly back to her office, wishing that she hadn't been
reminded of things she'd never remember.
* * * * * *
"All systems check," Captain Cadwallader slid into her seat on the bridge
of the Enforcer. "Helm, take us out."
"Aye ma'am." Craig MacDonald piloted the ship out into clear space.
"Cadwallader to USS Scramasax, Thunderbolt and London. Move your asses
and get into formation. We're away."
Around BoB, the three ships loosened their moorings and fell in behind
their Border Patrol Lead Ship, majestic with it's huge red Welsh Dragon
painted on the hull .
The USS Enforcer slipped to warp as the others followed, on the first leg
of their next patrol. Caddie glanced around the bridge. Ann Bowers was
looking a little flushed and smiling to herself. Caddie smiled back, a
knowing smile that caused the Ops Chief to blush even more.
"We'll be back before you know it," she announced to no-one in
particular. "I don't think anything dangerous is going to happen to them
while we're away."
"Now you've jinxed it," Michael ap Williams threw up his hands in mock
despair. "And it's Stardate 240704.13 - and a Friday to boot. You know
what they say about Friday the Thirteenth..."
"I'm going to ask SFHQ for a more optimistic XO," Caddie chuckled. "Now,
let's get the arrangements sorted for the exercise manoeuvres... "
=/\= SB BoB =/\=
Mort fiddled with his PADD in his office. After almost a year, he was
finally getting the hang of using the thing.
He was finished with his research findings, and wanted to show the
captain. As it turned out, there were quite a few alien races with
unusual burial practices, so it took a while to sort through them. Not
very many involved putting corpses on spaceships, however.
Mort activated his comm badge. "Feldman to Captain Mulder, come in
please."
"I'm here, Lieutenant. How are things?"
"Fine, thanks. I wanted to share with you some of my findings, I have
been looking into unusual burial practices as you requested. Care to meet
at Pigs in Space?"
"Good call," Mulder smiled at the other end of the comm. "I like your
style. I'll be there in five. Tea break anyway. What shall I order you?"
"How bout that thing named after me? Been meaning to try that. Oh, and an
ice tea."
"Right," Mulder closed the comm and leapt down the metal stairway,
swinging into Pigs. "Table for two, somewhere at the back please," she
called cheerfully to Shazza.
"Right this way, Captain," Shazza let her to a quiet table. Fortunately,
the cafe was only half-full as they were between shift changes. "Meeting,
is it?"
"I'm making a habit of this, aren't I?' Mulder chuckled. "Yes, it is, as
it happens." She gave their order and waited for Mort.
"Hello Captain, my Captain," Mort said as he approached the table. "How
is the life a of CO?"
"Somewhat less stressful than usual, which is rather scary in it's
portent," Mulder grinned as she waved him to a seat, "I keep getting the
feeling that something will go horribly wrong any minute. I'll have to
see you some time about this bout of pessimism."
Mort sat down. "So what's the latest on our eight ghoulish friends?"
"Nothing more, at the moment. I think everyone is working on the problem
in their own way. Maybe the pieces will start to fit together eventually.
If Doctor Bonnenfant can get some physical clues, that will probably be
our starting point." Mulder sat back to allow Shazza to deliver their
order.
"I imagine the good doctor is having a field day. Does Bonnenfant have
any idea what we are dealing with?"
"Nothing at all yet. But he's smart, he'll find..something," Mulder was
indeed feeling surprisingly unstressed about the whole thing. A nice
juicy puzzle that engaged their brains without screaming danger. "So how
about you?"
"Well, I've been doing some digging around myself. Here, take this." Mort
handed Mulder his PADD. "I started with unusual burial practices in human
and humanoid cultures, focusing on those that might including internment
in a ship or vessel of some kind."
"Okay," Mulder took a sip of tea. "I'm listening - fire away."
"Well, sir everybody knows about the famous example of the Vikings. We
all saw in our school textbooks, at least those of us educated on earth,
about the Vikings and their habit of burying longships along with their
dead cheiftans. A vessel they could use on their journey to the
hereafter."
Mulder nodded, "I'm vaguely familiar with the mythology. Of coure, many
ancient deity systems have now been proved to be based on visitations by
advanced spacefaring races, long before the Prime Directive was ever
invented. So the Norse Mythology might have been based on an alien craft
burning up in the atmosphere, translating in their untutored minds to
mean that was the way to the afterlife."
She took a drink of tea, "But then again, the system depended on the
vessel being destroyed. Maybe a malfunction in an auto-destruct
sequence?" she was hypothesising aloud. "I don't suppose this ritual is
exclusive to Earth though?" she gave Mort a questioning look.
"According to the Federation databanks, there are approximately 1258
known cultures that engage in similar practices. However, only a dozen or
so of those involve spacecraft. More than likely, by the time they
advanced to space travel such primitive rites had been abandoned. Of
course, there is also the expense involved in burying or otherwise
sacrificing a perfectly good spaceship."
"Quite," Mulder nodded, "So they'd have to be both adcanced and wealthy,
as a species. And, presumeably, able to track their funeral systems, I
would suppose. If that *were* the case, it would be odd that no-one has
come looking for their errant ship. "*If* that's the case? Have you been
able to narrow it down?"
Mort had. "In fact, only one culture is known to actually put their dead
into spaceships and then launch them into space. The ships would be sent
on autopilot, to take the daparted to their version of Valhalla. However,
as you can see by the picture on my PADD, these creatures are far from
humanoid. Additionally, their ships have distict design features that
differ greatly from the ship that docked itself with BoB, that's shown on
the next few images."
Picking up the Padd and studying the images, Mulder sighed, "Yeah, that's
way too far off the mark. Our bodies are definately humanoid, and the
ship is too different in every aspect to be even a hybrid or
developmental effort." She placed the Padd slowly back on the table.
"So...?"
"So I'm afraid I've drawn a blank as to who or what put into motion the
chain of events leading to the docking of the alien ship onto BoB."
"Ah well, you've done your best," Mulder gave a fatalistic shrug. "If it
isn't in there, then it isn't in there. So much is still unknown about
the millions of dirrerent beings in this galaxy, it's possibly just that
we haven't come across them yet. Odd though... very odd."
Tapping the table thoughtfully, she then said, "Maybe the next stage is
to search databanks for anything from our side of the fence. If that's
all the known alien cultures covered, let's look for unexplained
instances reported by Starfleet, or any affiliated Federation races. Even
if they were never identified or explained, maybe someone else,
somewhere, has come across something similar."
Mort nodded. "Yes, that would be worth looking into."
A moment of silence followed as both officers tried their food. "Captain,
one thing is bothering me."
Mulder looked at him, "In what way?"
"Well, the bodies appear to be deceased. Normally decomposition would be
occuring, unless they were put in a stasis field or otherwise preserved.
But they are not in stasis. So what if they're...uh...not dead?
"Not dead?" she schoed, "They *appear* dead. I know that isn't neccessarily - a very definitive term these days. But all medical signs
show complete lack of brain activity or respiration, and after this
long.. it's unlikely.." she knew that they had to consider all
possibilities, though. "What are you thinking?"
"What I mean is, maybe they are like that not because of anything
physical, but because they've...lost...their souls."
At that moment the lights of the cafe flickered a bit.
Even Mulder blinked a little, then laughed self-consciously, "If we'd had
a clap of thunder as well, I'd be shooting stuff by now." She toyed with
her food. "Souls... if you mean in a metaphysical sense, I wouldn't buy
it. Although, if we're talking about a higher consciousness that's not
deity-related, but genetic, then that's a possible theory, yes..."
"What I mean to say, is that maybe the bodies are perfectly inacte, yet
lack the life-force, the spark, whatever you want to call it."
"Well, we might find out sooner or later," a grim look crosed Mulder's
face. "I've given Doctor Bonnenfant permission to perform an autopsy on
one of the bodies. So if they aren't properly dead yet, they soon will
be."
Mort was surprised. "I assumed the doctor could examine them in non
invasive ways. I hope cutting them up is not a mistake." Mort added,
toying with his food.
"Hmph, serve them right for turning up unannounced and dead on our
doorstep," Mulder muttered darkly. "Although...bouncing off what you just
said, there's something that's been bothering me, too..."
Mort looked up from his plate. "What's that?"
"What do they want?" she asked with seeming juxtaposition. "I mean, did
they come here by accident? I'm beginning to wonder. They latched onto my
ship's signals when I was out flying, and tried to follow me. Then, even
though I made every effort to shake them, they still followed here. It's
like they need us for something, or want us to do something, if you flip
it on it's head and look at it from that angle."
"Hmmm, so it wasn't just a navigational accident that brought the ship
here." Mort thought a moment. "I wonder if...well, this sounds
perpostrus. But perhaps it was programmed to home in on some signal,
something to lead it to paradise. Although its laughable that anything
could confuse BoB with heaven." Mort smiled at the thought. "On the other
hand, maybe some aliens found eight dead humanoids, and programmed one of
their ships to carry the corpses and contact the first humanoid life
forms it encountered so they could get a proper burial."
Mulder was chuckling quietly at the thought of BoB being mistaken for
paradise. "I must admit, it'd be a strange day for humanity if BoB was
revealed to be Heaven after all. That would make the headlines in
Starfleet Strange & Unusual, for sure."
She considered his second suggestion. "It's possible that they were
hoping someone else would finish of the job for them - maybe there *are*
instructions in there somewhere, maybe something malfunctioned which is
why they aren't readable."
She pushed her empty plate aside, "Or maybe...they're the result of some
sort of crime, some multiple murder, and someone tried to bury the
evidence, and it wouldn't stay hidden..." she gave a wry smile. "So many
theories."
"Has engineering examined the propulsion system on the ship? Maybe it
left some sort of trail behind we could use to track its point of
origin."
"I'm getting Lieutenant Omar to do that. She and her team can do some
exploring in the direction," Mulder nodded. "I did some basic
extrapolation myself, but the search parameters are mind-bogglingly wide.
But yes, if she can detect any mechanics that have a known signature sort of engineering forensics - then it might add to the clues."
"Indeed." Mort finished and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Mulder indicated that Shazza should put the bill on her account. "I think
I'd better get back to the office," she smiled. "I'll leave you to do
some research now to see if there's anything similar happened to anyone
else, anywhere."
"I'll get on it. And thanks for the snack. So how long should I look back
for?"
She considered, "Maybe..in the last twenty years. That's rather broad, I
know, but start there. If nothing shows, we might have to go back even
further."
"Check!" Mort answered. Shazza had just approached the table, became
confused and tried to hand the bill to Mort, who urgently waved it off.
Mulder motioned to give it to her.
"Thank you, Lieutenant, for your theories. I have a feeling we have even
more questions than answers now, but we'll get there in the end. We
*will* solve this, sooner or later," she smiled.
"I'm sure we will," Mort replied, and got up from the table to return to
his office.
=/\= SB BoB - Mulder's Quarters =/\=
Packages from home were always good, although Mulder's initial pleasure
dimmed when she saw the contents.
Her father had sent her the latest, hot off the press, holodisc release
of 'The Greatest Sacrifice'.
"The greatest war story ever told. Re-made and re-mastered. They died to
save the galaxy - no price was too high to pay."
"Yeah. Right. And nearly blew the station up when they made it," Mulder
muttered, somewhat ungenerously. But the events of last year, when the
Hollywood film crew had descended on BoB, were still raw in her mind, for
many reasons.
That had brought The Patriots to the station. And nearly killed all of
them. For a crime they hadn't even committed.
She studied the cover of the casing - in the background, Starbase Sigma
did indeed now have a BoB-ish look to it. The design artist must have
studied views of the station. They'd airbrushed out all the rust,
though...
Taking centre stage on the cover were actors Rosalind Rafferty and
Douglas Quinn playing the real-life heroes of the illl-fated Starbase
Sigma, and around them in shadows were hordes of marines - definitely a
few familiar faces there - with a couple of fallen Breen to stamp the
'action' premise on the film.
She took out the holo-vid chip and weighed in it her hand, pondering. The
thought of The Patriots still had the power to bring a tight, sick knot
to her stomach, and she sighed as she replaced in and laid the case down
on the table.
Maybe another day.
For tonight, she'd have a flip through the channels and see what SFN were
showing. Activating the commconsole screen and flicking onto the
StarFleet Network channel she saw it was Crime Cycle night.
"That'll do, won't it?" she asked Sherlock. The little foxhound gave a
snuffle of 'anything works, where's the popcorn?' as she settled next to
him on the couch.
"Oh no..." First showing was 'SSIB:Blue' - the fictional adventures of a
team of investigators working for the Sol System Investigation Bureau.
Ever since she'd fallen foul of the real SSIB last year - and that was
The patriots' fault too - she'd never been able to watch the series with
quite the same enjoyment. 'SSIB: Black and blue' would have been more to
her liking...
Choices...choices. On another channel was CSI:Jupiter. The original
franchise had stood the test of time well. Bill Bressom the lead
criminalist - vaguely hot in an older-man sort of way - led his team of
assorted criminalists which included several unfeasibly thin women who
wore unnecessarily bright lipstick.
Maybe not. She tried the next showing - CSI:Venus. "Mmmm..dunno..." If
there was a small child in the opening sequence, it was a dead cert that
something gruesome would happen to any or all of it's immediate family,
and the Crime Lab chief would show a surprising and sensitive
understanding of how to relate to small children.
"Kids. Bah," she muttered, seeing a small Andorian child running around a
garden. "Nope."
She noticed, not for the first time, how the casts were almost
interchangeable. Strong leading male, with 'interesting' background,
usually a native of the planet the series was set in, plus a couple of
other natives for good measure. Often a Terran, usually for the nice
accent. A chirpy Saturnalian and a token Martian, plus occasional Alpha
Centaurians and Lunans for a bit of added diversity.
The only remaining option was CSI: Pluto. "Yeah, that's more like it."
CSI:Pluto was darker and grittier and the characters didn't smile quite
so often. An added bonus was the leading man was definitely hotter than
the rest, even if in the show he was a former Starfleet marine. Mulder
decided she wouldn't hold that against him.
"Okay, okay... popcorn," she wandered over to the replicator.
Sherlock gave another snuffle of contentment. He didn't care what they
watched as long as it came with popcorn.
The commconsole flickered as the opening credits rolled, and Mulder sat
back, enjoying the brief respite, watching a world where everything was
always tied up neatly by the end credits.
If only real life were so simple...
=^= BoB Promenade, flower shop =^=
François was walking on the promenade, he just left Le Lost French, thing
were going well and in a few weeks the shop could organise it's grand
opening. He was still stiff from the meeting with the boff squad. He was
debating on going to see the captain now or wait tomorrow when he would
be more energize and more incline to be a gentlemen and answer all the
captain questions.
As he walk the flower shop he saw Sybil, he realize that he bought alot
of flowers there and never took the time to have a conversation with her.
He saw Snookums everyday and sometimes had seen her talk to him but it
never came to mind to do more than introduce himself. Now that was
something that he could do, more relaxing then answering a million
questions, even if it meant being with the woman of his life.
He walk toward her as she was putting fresh flowers in the front of the
shop "Hi Sybil, how are you this afternoon?"
"Missster Doctor.." the female Sayl'reth hissed with pleasure. "My besst
cusstomer, I think."
"Am I?" Half shock by the statement, "are you busy?"
"Issss a good time. I am going to drink tea," she beckoned him into the
shop. Through to the back, there was a small room with a little kettle
and burner underneath it, exactly the same as Snookums always kept in the
arboretum. It was clear where Sybil got her tea-drinking habits from.
"You would like a cup? Busssy man, I know."
He followed her behind the stoor " For sure, seem like Snookums gave you
the love for tea" he wink, not knowing if her species winked.
Sybil just smiled, "Snookums is a good man. He teaches me many things
about how to enjoy life."
"So, you own this place for long? I'm actually opening a little shop near
, Le Lost French, it's a relaxing and couple store. Massages, oil,
encents, music..." As he look at her pouring tea.
"You will be a trader too? That isss good news," Sybil handed him a cup
and took a seat on the extra large bench that Snookums had built for her.
She took a sip and then answered his question. "I have had store for a
year now. Wanted to be independent, earn money. Life used to be bad, very
bad..."
"How come, don't want to be to personal...if you want to drop the subject
it's not a problem" He gave her a warm smile
"I am refugee, Misster Doctor. I wass born in what you call the Mirror
Universe. Two years ago, they came here, in ship, when they needed help
to fight Sssspecies 8472 in that Universe. I wass slave. In my universe,
the Sayl'reth were captured race. People here freed me, hid me, and I
sstayed with Snookums. I love growing things, and ssso does he. I work
with him in Arboretum, but wanted to earn for myself too. Sssso Captain
Mulder let me rent shop, and now I sell what I grow in Hydronics Bay.
Isss a good life. A very good life," she smiled, content with her world.
"Well you have a great talent with flowers, they're wonderful. That's why
I buy so many" He took a sip of his tea.
"You cannot possibly put them all in your quarters, or they will have
more flowers than the shop," Sybil laughed. "Iss there a lucky lady in
your life? Or for patients in the Infirmary?"
"I buy them for people I like, I don't really need a occasion. I do have
a person in particular I tend to buy some more, but I don't think she
notice and it's better that way." He blush a bit. He didn't know why he
felt more comfortable with his lizard friends then normal humans.
"Ahhhh.. I sssee," Sybil gave him a sympathetic look. "Do you want to
tell me about it?"
"If I tell you, I'll have to..." he stop not knowing if she knew the
earth slang " I f you promise not to tell, it's the lady captain" he
blush but knew she must had a doubt.
Sybil reached over and patted his hand, "Do not worry, Mister Doctor. I
shall not tell anyone. Secret is safe with me." She gave him a little
look, "Does she know?"
"I don't think so, I really hope not, do you think she knows" He said
curious to know if she knew more then him.
"No, I expect not," Sybil gave a little smile. "She is very wise when it
comes to seeing what people think, but I have noticed in my life...people
only see what they expect. If she does not expect you to have feelings
for her, then she will not look for it, and so she will not see. I expect
your secret is safe from her, too."
"Good, that would be better for her" he smile as he put the cup to his
lips.
"Other men have been in love with her, although she never knew. Some...do
not know themselves yet..." Sybil quickly recovered from her musings, "I
mean, she has power and that is attractive to some men. Tell me doctor,
what iss it you admire so about her?"
"Most men would say, her beauty, leadership, determination. I dated women
with all those combinations and never felt that way. She has those
quality that sure but I feel like a bond with her, something like a link
to her. A emotion so strong that it remind me of how I feel about her
every second. "
"You have fallen hard, young doctor," Sybil's eyes were wise and knowing.
"Love is like that. Sometimes it creeps up on you, sometimes it hit's you
so fast it leaves you dizzy."
"Also, my mother a betazoid, they are a race that are telepathic and
emphatic, I don't any powers but I fell like the gene are still making
this link stronger, more easy for my heart...I don't know, it's hard to
explain."
Sybil held up a hand in warning, "Advice for you. Do not, ever, mention
that your mother is Betazoid. I know this much about Lady captain - she
isss Jaz'Arian, and her race hates telepaths. Very. very much. If you
were a proper telepath yoursself, you would not be here. Very, very bad
thing to be a telepath where Lady captain is concerned."
"Good to know, I'll make sure to avoid the subject with even if she
probably read my file and know I'm half betazoid. But how do you know
this?"
"I know thisss because Snookums once explained to me. He tells me all
about people on the station. It iss good to know, I will not make
mistakes with people that way," Sybil took another drink of tea. "You
see, Jaz'Aarians read body language with their eyes. It is like a sixth
sense. So thoughts are not private amongst their people. Words are spoken
and echoed by body language. Hard to keep secrets, hard to have private
thoughts. Amongst her people it is polite for them to look away when a
person isss distressed, and wants privacy. So, you see, being a telepath
takes away their only private means. Telepaths read emotions too, so they
intrude in sacred personal thoughts. It is criminal, for Jaz'Aarians. So
be careful, young doctor, else she might avoid you."
"I don't have any powers like my mother, the only thing left that
remotely betazoid is the emotions, I started to accept that, that I'm
very emotional."
"If you have no real telepathic ability, that is a good thing," Sybil
nodded firmly.
"For once in my life I'm glad I'm not" he smile. "Hopefully things will
go for the best and she'll be happy, that's what important" he smirk
"You are generous of heart, young doctor. I hope you find what you need
most...whatever that turns out to be," Sybil said enigmatically.
"Well I'll leave you to your flowers and get back to my report and
patients. thank you for the talk, you were very helpful and
understanding" He did a small bow.
"I only listen," Sybil said gently. "And you, you will talk to me
whenever you want? Sometimes, just talking about someone helps, for a
while."
"Indeed, for a while, At one point things will have to be forgotten or
move forward in either case it going to be hard. Love is strange!"
"It issss better to be able to love, no matter how much it hurts, than to
not feel love, or to love badly," Sybil smiled gently. "Tell me, doctor,
it is worth it, isn't it? Even though it is painful sometimes, it still
makes you happy?"
"Very...It's like having a rose that broken and have it suddenly retake
and bloom. The only fear would be to take to much wind and break
again..." He was happy but he couldn't hide the fear of Cas knowing about
his feelings. The chance of rejection were sure .
He started to walk toward the exit, then stop. "I was wondering if you
took contracts? I was wondering that maybe you could have some plants or
little trees for the infirmary, and you might be able to take a few hours
every week to take care of them. We would pay you of course. I'm also
creating a foundation that will help the family and children in need.
That foundation will be finance by donation and my shop, maybe we could
have some children make some deliveries for you have the tips would go to
them...Anyway those ideas are just brainstorms , you can choose to do
what ever you want."
"How interesting...." Sybil considered the idea. "Although... I do some
small amount of free supplying already. I provide fresh flowers to the
senior officer's desks, and the floral displays you see in the
Infirmary... are mine," she looked charmingly self-effacing. "I alwaysss
send flowers to badly injured patients and put nice flowers around for
staff to enjoy."
"But shrubs, plants and trees.. yesss... I can do that happily. Shall
have to consult with Snookums. he knows what will work, and last well,
and not irritate any allergies," she was thinking already.
He realise something, Sybil was attentionate and in business. He got
closer to her " How would you like to be the CEO of the foundation? No
pressure I would still be involve as the owner but I think you have
everything it take to be the candidate. You love to listen, know the
station, have a big heart, in business, and know almost everybody. What
do you think?" He was now very excited.
"Me?" she hissed with pleasure. "No, not alone. But you and me together,
doctor, could do much. Snookums will help. He already made station nicer,
he puts all trees and displays on the Promenade so people will enjoy
them. He isss kind, knows that flowers make people happy."
"I'm sure you the perfect choice, How a bout this you and Snookums could
be the CEO's and I would be owner, with the three of us I'm sure we could
handle it until we get people involve."
"We should get Captain's permission..." Sybil gave him an amused look.
"You would have to ask her..."
" Yes.." he blush, "I'll do it at the same time as my report. In the
meanwhile talk to Snookums and let me know what he thinks of it" He smile
and look at the time.
"I shall, and we will plan what will work bessst, and have suggestionsss
for you," Sybil placed th cups in the replicator. "Good plan, will make
us all very happy."
"I really have to go, but I'll talk to you as soon as it confirm with
Captain" as he was going toward the door.
"I shall look forward to it, young doctor," Sybil walked with him as far
as the door. As he waled away, she reflected that life was very
complicated for humans on this station.
A bit like the flowers and shrubs that she and Snookums grew. On the
surface, they were bold, vibrant and blooming - or not, as the case might
be. But it was underneath the ground, the parts that no-one could see,
that was where the true tangles lay. Which roots were strong, and which
were needing water? Which roots were tangled together in a way no-one
could guess from just looking at them?
She smiled to herself - she was becoming as bad as Snookums at turning
life into a botanical metaphor. Although, she had to admit, often they
were the most accurate analogies in the end.
=/\= USS Caledonia =/\=
Chess had called the senior officers together for a briefing, and to run
over their allocated destinations. There was no reason for them to be
cautious about going down there - their brief was to act their parts:
traders happy to make landfall, eager to catch up with some drinking and
gossip, and start haggling for what they needed.
Dressed in a pair of dark cargo pants and heavy knee-length boots, and
with a quasi-military jacket slung over an uncharacteristically tight tshirt, Chess had a phaser of unknown origin slung at her waist. Her
usually neat blonde bobbed hair had been gelled so it slicked right back,
and the chameleon-like change was surprising - and looked very
appropriate.
Jinti swung into the room, only she was wearing her usual everyday offduty clothing - battered black leather pants, kick-ass boots, grubby
white t-shirt and bashed black bikers jacket. "Yo, reckoned I'd do as I
wuz," she grinned. Zerin had on a simple t-shirt, a hoodie, and khakis.
She figured she'd look pretty inconspicuous, even as she made a mental
note to visit BoBoutique some time on off-duty and, uh...
She looked up at Carsin. "Why are you wearing that Tinkerbell tracksuit?"
she asked, dismay creeping into her voice.
"It's the only off-duty clothing I have," he replied.
"Maybe you could take off the Tinkerbell jacket," she suggested.
"It could get chilly."
"CARSIN...Look, ask Sandrik if he's got an extra jacket. Nobody on my ops
crew is wearing a Tinkerbell jacket on a mission."
Mike
this
were
look
came in, with black jeans and a red t-shirt that said "if you read
back off". He had cowboy boot and a black cowboy hat. His shades
also slightly red. He was uncomfortable, but decided to go for the
Carol had choosen.
"Thank you for making the effort," Chess had looked over everyone as they
entered. "You all look absolutely the part. This is a good start."
Jinti wondered if she ought to mention the *very* little that Jadi Z'El
was wearing, but decided to say nothing.
"I'd like to run over our individual and team objectives," Chess looked
around to open the floor.
"Well," Zerin explained, "the ops crew and I are going to try for the
place's entertainment establishments--the clubs and the bars with live
music. We're going to pretend we're, uh..."
*Don't say we're going to pretend we're a rock band. PLEASE,* Carsin
thought.
"We're going to be a musical group," Zerin said. "Two percussionists and
a guitar player."
"I do not know how to play percussion or guitar," Sandrik said. This
cover story was news to him.
"You and Carsin are going to just shake tambourines and maracas," Zerin
replied helpfully. "If we can't get a paying gig, we'll just busk. You
know, play on the sidewalk."
"Interesting," Chess nodded approvingly. "That's very innovative. People
who listen to music usually drink when they do it - and drink loosens the
tongue. A good place to pick up gossip." She wondered why musical ability
wasn't on Zerin's CV. Maybe this wasn't the time to enquire to closely
about their level of musical talent...
Zerin handed padds to her ops crew. "These are song lyrics, guys. Prepare
to memorize them," she explained.
Sandrik grimaced. "What kind of a song title is 'I Wanna Be Your Dog'?"
"It's an easy song to learn," Zerin sighed. "Look, we can do 'Beat on the
Brat' if you prefer."
Chess gave a wry half-smile. "I believe that in the sort of
establishments we'll be visiting, anything which touches on excessive
alcohol, women as she-devils with large assets, and mornful animal
references will probably go down well." Again she almost quirked a smile,
"Although if you go retro, may I suggest avoiding Michael Bolton. We wish
to elicit information, not incite to murder."
Right now, though, a demonstration might well be so *not* in order, that
she hastily added, "Moving on - Lieutenant Lamarr. As discussed earlier,
you'll be in Lieutenant de Carabas' team. What about your other pilots?"
Jinti had been about to suggest that Britney Spears had been very
efficacious in the music line a few years ago, but caught the look on
Chess's face and scrapped that notion. "Uhhh, well, y'see, they'z got a
bit of a scam goin' Zellers is going to be Orion an' Richards is gonna
pretend he's lookin' fer a buyer..." she coughed apologetically. "They'll
do it jist fine, I reckons," she tried to sound confident.
"Indeed.." Chess raised an eyebrow. "Well, so long as no sale takes
place, I suppose that's alright.."
"Hell yeah, I tole 'em proper. No sellin'," Jinti added emphatically.
"Mm. Good. So..who's next?" Chess looked around the table.
"Me and my crew will be looking at getting hired as mercenary killers
that get things blow up, hi ya!" He smile waiting for the reaction of the
rest of the crew. "I always wanted to say that, sorry for the bad joke,
but we'll try to get hire as medical staff in exchange for some medical
material. Hopefully will be able to use their device to get some
reading." He look at the others, proud of his cowboy look!
Chess was starting to get the distinct feeling that, whatever else could
be said about Caledonia crew, they were not shy of going the whole hog in
a mission. It was brash and fairly insane, but somehow she suspected that
they would blend in perfectly with the hard-bitten, colourful denizens on
Scavengers Hub.
"I think that's another very good inroad," she gave another nod of
approval. "There is a medical post outside the main spaceport on the
surface, and another medical centre in the town of Jackson's Whole
itself. Try in the town centre first - and take careful note of any
injuries that come in, listen for gossip, especially if there have been
any fights. Information is a commodity, and people like that will take it
any way they can."
"Now, logistics," Chess brought up a screen and showed them an overview
plan of the town. "We'll be docking at their skyport, which stays in
synchronous orbit about Jackson's Whole. I'm going to leave a skeleton
staff here at all times. The engineering noncomms will keep the engines
warmed up, in case we have to make a fast getaway, and Transporter chief
Dennis Erendin will stay on standby in case we need an emergency beamout." She turned to Jinti, "I'd also like at least one pilot on the ship
at any time."
"Y'okay, Cap'n," Jinti agreed. "I c'n take it in turns with my two.
Someone will allways be here."
"Good." Chess returned to the general briefing. "There's no reason why we
shouldn't beam down en-masse. We're long-range hauliers of the freetrader
Caledonia, and we've been ship-bound for months. It's natural we'd want
some shore leave along with our neccessary business. There's two main
hostels, and we'll take rooms in both to cover all bases. Take your pick
from the Frog & Nightgown, or the Duck & Pizzle," she arched one eyebrow
slightly at the odd names.
" Our team will stay at the Frog & Nightgown" Mike said. "For some reason
it's seem more of a place where people would be darker, where things were
less *clean*.
"We'll hang at the Duck an' Pizzle," Jinti noted the name.
"Good. The rest can decide and spplit up when they get there," Chess
turned back to the logistics. "Wear your commbadges, but keep them
concealed. Use them if you need to. Should anyone comment, then we say
they came as part of the deal, as they're tuned to the ship's computer.
It's quite reasonable, and pefectly believable to match our story of this
being an ex-Starfleet ship." Chess thought that even their commbadges
looked tatty and chipped enough to fit the cover version.
"Yes ma'am" Mike had his in one of his cowboy boot, Tol had build a
little compartment for it.
"No probs," Jinti didn't want to surmise whereabouts Jadi would be able
to store her commbadge...
Chess was still speaking. "Let's keep the story as simple as possible.
Some of us can be ex-Starfleet. We don't have to give away much detail.
Imply that your discharge was less than honourable. Insist that we do
business on the right side of legal, but give the impression that we're
not averse to anything illicit - if the price is right."
"Sounds cool, I c'n do that," Jinti beamed.
Ches summed up, "When we get there, we'll dock at the skyport and
register. You can all beam down to their main transporter station,
situation at the ground spacedock for smaller ships that are able to make
landing. There doesn't have to be any particular order of arrival, just
make it natural. Book rooms, spy out the land, get yourselves out and
about. We'll play it by ear for now and see what happens."
She stood up, a sign the meeting was at an end. "We should be docking
late this evening. For now, brief your own teams again with these final
details, perfect your cover stories, run all basic systems checks to
ensure that your departments are functioning smoothly and efficiently, I
don't want any breakages or repairs to have to do if we get stuck." She
gave them all an encouraging look, "That's all for now. You may return to
your duty stations."
As they filed out, she updated the details of their plans onto her
notepad. It had been a long time since she'd been on an away team
herself, probably the best part of a year. It would be good to get back
into business again.
She was enjoying the thought so much that she didn't even swear when she
tripped over the tiger on the way out.
=^= On way to unknown vessel =^=
François was impress by the three muskeeter of science. They were very
helpful and very nice. He tried to remember a crewe that wasn't on their
first meeting. Vega was a bit more crude but still accepted a diner in
his quarter, that must prove something. The three gentlemen seem in
perfect unison, they must had been working with each other for a long
period of time. They were also very logic people, well so far, very
precise in the way of analysis. He was glad to be working with them.
"Gentlemen, Have you been working together for long?" As he was leading
them toward the docking bay.
" We've been together a number of years," Tom nodded. "Eleven at the last
count of Venus."
"Wow, that's interesting, do you have different specialities ?"
"Tom es the Bio Phez-e-cest," Harry replied pointed a thumb towards their
master and commander. "Eye'm the Chem-est and Four-ensic science whezzked and Rech-erd, he's the fella with brains for gunpowder."
Tom tutted, whilst Dick chuckled. "I'm the behavioural mechanics expert,"
he clarified.
He was surprise to see such a varied group " Interesting combination"
" It is," Dick confirmed. "The chief counsellor thought so before she
left. Managed to sweet talk the Captain in making us a bona fide
Forensics science unit."
"Here we are, ready to go onboard?" He smile, he was hoping it was as
exciting for them than it's was for him.
"We are" Tom replied in the affirmative. "Like the batterries, Doctor,"
he smirked to twirl a pair of tweezers, "We are Ever Ready."
The doctor started to laugh, "good one" Finally someone was doing
analogies like him, except they seem to have more experience at it.
"Wey are royt bayhind you, Doc," Harry chirruped as the group followed.
"Alright then let's go" the door open, the ship was the same way at it
was when he first came in, empty and cold. He made his way trough some
corridors and rooms to finally stop in what could be described as the
infirmary.
"Thes reminds of me Mad-am Tow-swords...."Harry commented surveying the
corridors. "Anee men-ut know the ghost of Tom Jones es gonna come out
from da wall senging der grain grain grass of home...."
"This is it! on your left the male on your rigth the female. I have
brougth some tool to make a local autopsy, hopefully will get some
answers". As he walk toward one of the male and open his case.
"I shall observe, and aid," Tom followed quickly, snatching on some latex
gloves, "If you permit," he added his eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"Of course, please do!" as he open the case.
"Oim going to go play at Croime sane invest-tee gator...."Harry shrilled,
waving his kit. "Des place don't look like it got anything gowin for
it...not so much as shred of dust...."
Richard stood at the doorway, clutching a padd, he entered data.
"That what we notice also, very strange that a abandon ship is that
clean" As he look for something in the case
"Behavioural mechanics, Doctor. Tom can see first hand, with yourself,
what the dead guys are up to. Harry is processing the scene. I'm playing
at Risk. You know, plotting positions."
"Good" The doctor made a note of how professional they were.
Harry hummed the 1912 overture as he ran a finger across a surface. "Am
Eye de only one who don't like dust bunnies...."
"So fellas what shall we sing....."Richard took a few measurements,
stepping behind the doctor to measure his shoulder span. "They look
human, like you...."
"Bretney Spears, het me baby wun more time?" Harry offered head inside a
storage unit.
"Britney won't, but since you asked." Richard cackled, to launch a laser
stick at his haunched rear.
"Ouch, you pleb," Harry cursed, rubbing his rear.
"You like music as you work " he ask as he put glove on.
"We find that sometimes, a musical rendition of a popular musical ditty
helps us to achieve our aims a little easier," Tom told the Doctor.
"True, it's seem motivating" He wink
"Setting in der dock of der bay...waysting toimmmmeeeee!"Harry did a
quick shoe shuffle to slide across the infirmary.
The doctor didn't understand a word, he smile and went back to teh case
"Street life, is the only I know...Street life....."Richard was starting
to give his utmost as he positioned motion sensors.
" Que je t'aime, que je t'aime, que t'es yeux sont ..." The doctor
decided to put a bit of his french song in the mix.
"Mister Boom-bastic, Mister tel-fon-tastic....Mister ro-roromantic....."Harry hopped, skipped and jumped scooping samples into a
petridish.
The doctor took the laser scapel "Here we go" as he look at Tom. As the
scapel touch the patient a energy surge went up the doctor arm. François
was push off his feet into the nearest wall. He bearly touch the ground
as the surge was powerful. The doctor was now bleeding from his lower
lips and was shaking his head since he was obviously shaken. He stayed on
the ground half conscious.
"Are you alright, dear boy?" Tom crouched over the Doctor. "Is this the
bit where one aids you with a cold compress?"
Still shaking his head to try to gain his reason the only word he could
say " maudit colisse de corps batard , je vais vous c une bruler ma gang
colisse de batard!" He seem his ego was more hurt than his body.
"I have no idea what you just said," Richard grimaced, "But it didn't
sound too pretty."
=^= On way to unknown vessel =^=
"At the risk of sounding like a pedant," Tom helped the doctor up. "The
electrical activity as one would expect from a living
organism...indicates," he shrugged, "That they are still with us. That
they are still in existence and that a post mortem would be moot."
The doctor still putting his finge to his lips to see if it stop bleeding
" maybe"
Richard wandered over towards the bodies, waving what looked like a
circuit tester. "One moment ladies, hypothesis test," he stated pressing
it to a male temple. "Just want to see...."
It's the first time he was call a lady, but in this context he enjoy
feeling part of the team. "wha..." he stop and look around
Looking at this readings, Richard frowned. "It's like a glorified
encephelogramme. The alpha waves are there in spurts. Beta is flatlining.
There it is.The charge that sent the Doc flying."
He doctor was not paying any attention " What, yes..no, are you sure?"
"It's a small matter of debate, Doctor,"Richard tapped a scan again.
"Delta cerebral waves. Thought by many to be the link between the mind
and the soul. The glue that binds it. It's here, and in buckets. We got
brains," he added. "But not alot else. The Delta waves stopped you from
making the incision."
The doctor went to the door and took a look around " Did anyone here that
or is it just me " the rub his sore shoulder "probably the impact with
the wall"
" Just us three girls, and you, doctor," Richard answered re-assuringly.
"Sorry about that, you seem more advance in this science than me, so
explain it again in english" he wink as he sat near one of the corpse. He
slowly touch him to see if he would get a shock again but nothing.
"There is something that is acting as a preventative barrier. An ethenama
type effect that prevents any form of interference whilst the bodies are
in some form of suspended motion," Tom reeled off.
" I see, so the *soul* would be around this ship? or could it be in
another location? and the field would be generated by the link correct?"
"Certainly. What we have are cognitive vessels, entities in their own
right, but suspended in being," Richard answered. "I'd like to monitor
their cerebral activity," Richard told the doctor. "See if we can get
into it. There are a number of pieces of kit that could be used. To see
if cognitions still exist as pictures and things...."
Harry slammed shut his analysis kit. "I've got me bets and bobs, enough
of nothing to take back to BoB and play wid it."
"What we have is plenty. Enough to run simulations and hypotheses tests,"
tom stated at last in something of a analytic tone. Perhaps we ought to
return back, Doctor. Prepare something for the Captain on our return for
a de-brief of some sort."
"Ok, let's set up in my research lab, you'll have all the equipment and
the resources their and will be able to coordinate our efforts. " He
close his kit "I'll go debrief the captain on our hypothesis tommorow" As
he came out, he look at corpse one last time he was sure he was not alone
in that place...Or the shock of hitting the wall was more serious then he
tough. LTJG François Bonnenfant DCMO Starbase BOB
=^= Walking to Quarters =^=
Frank was exhausted after a very interesting meeting with Sybil and being
thrown around by dead bodies. He had also set up the BOFF team into his
research lab, witch was kind of nice. It wouldn’t be so empty, so cold,
seeing scientist use every inch of space to work or experimented put life
into a environment that was so fundamentally cold. He was also getting
involved way over his head, but his heart felt like he hadn’t done
enough.
The foundation was now ready to exist, helping families and children on
the station to have access to better services, to a better way of living.
Helping those who as nowhere to go, nothing to do, that think life is
over. It’s a warm body that give you a hug when you need it, tell you
that everything will be ok when you think life is about to end. It’s also
bringing new families to BoB, those that like her crew want a second
chance, wants another start. A mentor of his told him once, if you don’t
have the skills or the ability beat them with numbers. Bob wasn’t
recognise for being the best of stations, but if it became a place of
hope and had the feeling of belonging, it would be a place known of the
people. The people that one point would speak up and let them know how
Bob change their life.
Who were * them*, they were the people that didn’t care, that judge and
let people in their misery. Starfleet and the federation were against
this, but ignorance and stupidity couldn’t be erase, a lot of high class
people will still look down and judge what they call the inferior. He saw
it to often on banquet his parents had, he heard them, and he saw them.
For once in his life he was what they talk about, what the laugh about.
He was ordinary, he was a man, just a man. That made him fell good, he
didn’t why, but he felt part of a bigger group, bigger crowd.
He head hurt, a sign that his emotions were again taking him in a journey
he knew could only bring him fatigue, headache and trouble. I’m but a
simple man, trying to make a simple life...right keep thinking that! Was
he? Was he trying to prove something, to whom? No, he wasn’t trying to
prove shit, he was following his heart, for once in his life he did what
he think was right, not what was appropriate. Opening a shop to fund the
infirmary and the foundation was the right thing to do. He would not gain
money or fame but instead people would gain services and pleasure. Things
were becoming clearer when most people said emotion brought confusion.
Even with the women around him he was starting to be able to let go of
the barriers. With Lupha, he was knew her feeling and was still able to
respect her. He had no intention of sleeping with her even if it could be
possibility. He was in love even if the woman he had feeling for could
never know. Strange, was in it? Of all the hundreds of women he
experience the feeling of lust, he had to fall in love with the one he
couldn’t have. He read stories in book about it, thinking it couldn’t
happen, no women could be impossible, not for him. But life had again
show him that expects the unexpected.
He finally came into his sanctum, drop on the couch, tomorrow he had to
deliver a report to the captain. Then again why not do it in his quarter
during breakfast. That was a idea she couldn’t refuse..well hopefully. At
the same time they would be in more personal environment and she might be
more open and actually talk about herself. Either way, she would be good
company.
-=- Present time.37 Acacia Avenue, Birmingham B1 7SF Earth -=Dhillons battered Ford Prefect was parked crookedly on the drive. Words
would be had, as hers were actually somewhere underneath the gravel drive
housed in the underground parking that was lovingly termed the Bat Cave.
Arihana peeled off her jacket to hang it in the cloakroom. Having taken
the scenic route home from Eleven Brindley place, she was late, and it
was her turn to cook. Turning up her sleeves, she undid the azure blue
cuff links that fastened the starched sleeves. Washing her hands in the
sink, she looked out the window at the lawn.
Suraj was standing over the ball, in full football kit, ready to take
aim. There was a horrible muddy brown streak across his backside from
sliding across the mud. One football sock drooped almost wearily around
his ankle.
Where would he shoot? Arihana asked herself. Top left, or scoot one to
the side on the right.
Suraj looked to the left post. That was where most people would shoot.
Slam it into the top left, curl it in. Only these boots were new, and it
would hurt to smack it in.
Stop me, oh, stop me Stop me if you think that you've Heard this one
before
Dhillon was standing between the goal posts as he looked up. Smiling, he
acknowledged the fact that she was home.
This was all very strange, but cosy all the same. He hadn’t asked for a
key, well, access. He had always rang the doorbell, awaited Lucien to
come to the door with the usual hello Mister Havane, Master Havane. These
days, Lucien the valet stayed below stairs, lurking in the study that he
was forbidden to enter unless asked. Otherwise, he and Suraj came and
went as they pleased, no questions asked.
He was so sure that he had been here before.
Suraj grinned. His mother had her uses. Daddy was distracted.
Dhillon blinked as the football whizzed past his right. Ricocheting off
the cross bar, it propelled into the top left corner of the net.
The windows buffered her laughter. Standing at the sink peeling potatoes,
Arihana was doubling over laughing.
Suraj jumped up and down on the spot before running around with his shirt
pulled over his head. You’d think he’d just scored for England.
Stop me, oh, stop me Stop me if you think that you've heard this one
before
Nothing's changed I still love you, oh, I still love you ...Only
slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love
Cheesey mash potatoes, with a crust of grilled Red Leicester. Creamed
with warm butter and seasoned with freshly cracked black pepper. Sweet
red onions and an herby tomato sauce swimming around tender minced lamb
with crushed dried mint.
This wasn’t just food. This was –cooked from scratch, screw the
replicator and chip your manicured nails and smell garlic under them for
days - food.
Suraj looked wide eyed at The Shepherds pie that made its way slowly out
towards the patio. The dusk air was mingled with the jasmine that was
bedded around the lawn and the smell of the food.
Dhillon simply smiled. If he didn’t know Arihana better, he was sure she
was after something.
Oh, who said I'd lied ? - because I never, I never Who said I'd lied ? because I never
In the back of her head, it wasn’t Dhillon who was here. It was Nick. Was
like a form of self flagellation, an attempt to punish herself. If she
could imagine it, perhaps she could hang onto it.
Dhillon was there, Nick wasn’t.
One bloke was a good as the next. Technically, Nick had been better. But
she wasn’t going to argue the toss as she took off the oven gloves to
rest the dish on the wooden table.
He thought it was curious. He had pawned their wedding rings after they
had split in something of a hissy fit. Yet, she still wore hers. From
what he knew, she had done the dirty. Grabbing a fork, Dhillon filed away
the mental enquiry. He had never been able to make sense of her before,
he wasn’t about to try now.
Oh, so I drank one It became four And when I fell on the floor ... ...I
drank more
The bottle of wine was wedged firmly between her knees as she wound down
the corkscrew. A gift from a well heeled client was a vintage white that
had lived in the cellar two doors down from her study waiting for the
right time to be uncorked.
Dhillon refilled his sons’ drink, before popping the cap on his own.
Suraj was off school for a week, he could spend some quality time with
his mother whilst his other parent sorted out parts for his shuttle
fleet. Birmingham was a trading city, had been since it received its
charter.
The Bullring had been the epicentre of trade, commerce and commercial
activity since then. The cradle of Watts, Boulton and Chamberlain. Middle
England gave London a run for its money. Legend had it; the whistles
blown on the Titanic were forged here in the Midlands. It was also home
to the Bourneville Chocolate Factory, the place that kept dentists here
to Pluto in clean scrubs.
There was the soft splash of colombard chardonnay into a stout wine
glass.
“Cheers,” Suraj squealed to clink his glass against his mothers glass,
and his dads’ bottle.
Stop me, oh, stop me Stop me if you think that you've Heard this one
before Stop me, oh, stop me Stop me if you think that you've heard this
one before
Dhillon stirred awake, looking at his watch he found that he just after a
quarter past two in the morning. His head throbbed. Dehydrated from the
three bottles of premium lager that he had downed and also the sun that
had set late in the evening.
Turning over in a daze, he pulled the sheet back over that had been
kicked off. Curled up, she looked at peace. Only when she slept did she
look that way, as though she was away with the faeries.
He was right. She had been after something. If only she hadn’t called him
Nick in the final throes, he could have slept a better man.
He was as jealous as hell, but had got fed.
He wasn’t going to hold a grudge. A better man would have.
Nothing's changed I still love you, oh, I still love you ...Only
slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love
-=- BoB Turbo lift shaft moorings -=“Shut yer cake holes and get in,” the imperative was barked as the mob of
dark trench coats trundled in. “Wipe your feet, damnit, this is hallowed
ground.”
A few groaned, some even removed duty boots to crawl in through the
grate. The shaft was temporarily out of order for the next half an hour.
One member was an Ops crewer with a penchant for dossing. Someone had
rigged up a sound system to play the fan club theme, and it droned at a
low level in the background.
I want you for myself, I don't want nobody else To try to intervene or
come between you and me 'Cause we got a good thing
The walls of the shaft were plastered with images. Her in Charge in dress
uniform. Her in Charge in that outfit for the Mattingly wedding. Her in
Charge at the Security party. Her in Charge as the woman from Mister and
Missis Smith. Her in Charge looking a bit stunned after the memory loss
thing. Her in Charge on a bear skin rug and not a lot else. Propped up in
the corner was what was left of the Venus de Mulder.
I want you for myself, I don't want nobody else To try to intervene or
come between you and me 'Cause we got a good thing
“We convene here today to redress the appreciation of Her In Charge. Our
leader, our figurehead, the lady enchantress at the helm and CO elect.”
There were murmurs of agreement, as one trench coat dropped to his knees
and proceeded to rock back and forwards.
“Her in Charge is to quote Chesney Hawkes, the one and only. Dozens have
clicked their heels and swayed their child bearing hips towards us, but
nothing, not one single set of 36 double dees can compare with the
dignity personified in Her in Charge.”
“The poise, the grace, the courage under fire...the marine as her right
hand man.”
There were collective groans and spit clinked some place.
“A mere speed bump in the grand scheme of things,” the voice added
reassuringly. “For, if one believes the scurrilous rumours, the man in
green has vested interests. He may be blind to our cause, but we share a
mutual appreciation of Her in Charge.”
“So we tip our hats to the Major. We thank him for being there. For being
the cotton wool around our Cas.”
A few whooped in appreciation.
“We thank him for being the one that has to take the bullets or seven, as
we are too busy filing away our stamps. We salute him for his sobriety,
in doing what he is told and not asking why. He knows his place.”
Why should I play the field when it's you that I want? I'm not the
jealous type but I ain't gonna front We should just settle down and stop
fooling around 'Cause we both feel for each other so why should there be
those other lovers?
“We acknowledge his unwavering allegiance. His inability to tell her
where to stick it when she tells him to risk his life. A clap for the
major.”
In this case there was resounding silence.
“Her In Charge. The last line of defence. The stalwart of BoB, the
guardian of this here rust bucket. The object of our adoration. Madam
CO.”
A cackle of whoops followed, stamping feet and cat calls.
*I know what love is so I know That my feelings are true 'cause I feel
for you But sometimes I feel hurt 'cause I play the fool So if loving you
is wrong I don't wanna be right
“Woman want to be you, men want to do you. Madam CO you have a special
place in out hearts, this station. Not to mention a whole host of other
place. Her In Charge, who was the green goddess during the inspectorate.
A beacon of light and virtue during the filming. A doyenne of duty. We
salute you!”
Let's get intimate and concentrate on us So when we're intimate our love
is based on trust Love is so good when there is just two people involved
Just me and you 'Cause the thought of you with someone else just makes me
crazy baby
-=- USS Industrious -=Devon ignored the beep at first. Continuing instead with crew evaluations
that were due in weeks ago. With the second beep, he looked up.
“Minutes of “Suede or leather....”he read to smirk. “ the Her In Charge
appreciations society.”
Sitting back, Devon closed the evaluations to read what he had been
missing.
-=- Bowels of BoB -=“We are now in session,” a voice quilted from the ether. “Let us now
collectively swoon, lust and pine after, the one the only. The man, the
legend....”and so the proclamation continued
“The resolution has yet to be fulfilled. The man, woman or hamster who
manages to lay finger or paw on a pair of his boxers will be in receipt
of what was it....”there was a brief silence of anticipation, “Three
crates of anti-wrinkle cream. Should one actually manage to snare the
man, the legend, then its four crates and a bottle of Bollinger.”
“One must remember, the man, the legend is exactly what it says on the
tin. A being. A sentient one at that, albeit with a rather nice tu...anyways, that means should we get our hands on him, he is a being and
not a piece of steak.”
“BoB is a community. We share him.”
There was some low level sniggering by a coven close to the inner
sanctum.
“That means, we take and ticket and wait our turn?” asked a squeak.
There was a clap of something. A boom of falling pads. “DO NOT MOCK THE
MAN, THE LEGEND!”
“He is not a bag of sweeties that we dip into out and then out of. He is
not a bag of dolly mixture where you have to take out the liquorice. We
all have an equal chance.”
“We revere the pedestal ‘pon which he has been placed.” A spot light fell
on a three legged stool on the side of the platform.
“All hail, the man the legend...” the proclamation started again.
“But we have no proof he wears his boxers on the outside of his fatigues.
How does that make him a superhero?” someone squawked to another.
“The fun is in the finding out, though. Innit.”
“That reminds me, the calendar. Still need to get it laminated.”
“Husband threatened to burn it.”
“Cade Vaughan, the man who makes husbands jealous....”
“Final fantasy ten.....”
“Eleven.”
“Twelve.”
“One Hundred!”
“And let this be my lesson to you,” a sense of solemnity entered the
disembodied voice. “Unless directed through mutual direction on part of
Him That Shall Not Be Named. No one, absolutely no one makes a pass. If
they do, they run the risk of being filleted like a kipper by Her In
Charge, not to mention destroying this cohort of appreciation. That is
the convenent. We adore from afar. The man, the legend is deified thus.”
The cohort started to file out as a gavel sounded the end of the session.
“I plan to gatecrash the barracks,” one twittered. “A friend knows a
someone who knows someone who knows someone else who thinks they can get
that chap Drexer drunk.”
“Maybe we could arrange a ménage a trois with the Frost woman....work our
way to the top.”
“Heard he’s a whiskey drinker...wonder if we should bootleg some.”
“Ponteen. He’s Welsh, try the Celtic angle.”
The shadowy finger wandered out slowly. Arriving at their bolt hole,
minutes to the meeting were sent out to the appropriate parties.
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue. Earth-=Arihana was sitting at her desk, trying to work out how much the stock in
Cadburys had risen since Easter Sunday. “Nice. Maybe we can afford that
place in Milan after all.”
There were indeed sales particulars dotted around her study. Something
she and Dhillon had discussed about tax dodging, and putting a property
in their son’s name.
Her console beeped, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin. “Now
what, more junk? Don’t want ‘enlargements’.” she turned to look at the
screen, squinting as she looked at the screen. “Minutes for ‘The Cade
Vaughan Appreciation Society Est.Way back when’ meeting. Psychopathic
barmpots. What’s that got to do with me? Pressing delete, otherwise
engaged, thank you....”
Thinking about it a second. Arihana turned back to retrieve it. A girl
could change her mind.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Scavenger's Hub Orbital Docking Platform =/\=
The bridge of the Caledonia looked even more seedy than usual, if that
were possible.
Chess lounged in the captain's chair, whilst the other officers tended
their stations, all dressed in the civvie clothing that matched their new
personas.
"Coming up ta dockin' Cap'n... Can I call ya cap'n, cap'n?" Jinti
whispered urgently.
"Yes, you can," Chess murmured back. "We won't be using ranks any more,
for obvious reasons, but even a civilian captain can still be called
'captain'. So use that if you want, or just Chess will do for this
mission."
"Uh, I'll stick with cap'n," Jinti had her own bounds of propriety.
Before she could say any more, a gruff male voice cut through their comm.
"Caledonia, this is Scavenger's Hub Docking Master. State your business."
Chess signalled for them to be put on screen. "Yeah, hi. This is the
freetrader Caledonia, requesting permission to stopover. We're running
low on supplies and need some fixing - and touting for business. You can
handle that?"
"Yup, I reckon so. Always room for one more at the Hub," the Dockmaster
was clearly scanning them as he spoke. "Hell, you've got some fixings to
do. I don't know if there's enough spare parts on the surface to cope
with that lot," he guffawed.
"Hey, she isn't so bad," Chess flung back. She gets the job done."
"Yeah, well, my brother-in-law runs a warp coil fixing business, I can
give you directions."
"Send them over. Always happy to take recommendations," Chess said
casually. "Can we dock now?"
"Level six. Be my guest. Register your crew before disembarking. Make
your way to transporter platform one, they'll beam you down to the
surface. Welcome to Jackson's Whole. Note no bombs, bazookas or bullets.
Blades and personal weapons only," he rattled off as formula.
Chess privately mused that *that* really set the tone for the mission to
come. "Sure," she drawled. "No problem."
Jinti was manoeuvring the ship into the allocated docking space. "We'z
in," she slapped the console. "Now I wanna go get drunk," she glanced at
the open comm.
"Go on then, the lot of you. Go get some downtime in, then get your asses
back here and start scouting for spares," Chess kept her characterisation
going.
The comm channel closed, Chess opened the internal comms. "This is the
captain. We're now ready to start beaming away teams to the surface.
Everyone down there in the next twenty-four hours, and start establishing
yourselves. Ensign LeBeau, you'll stay on duty with the engineering crew,
and Lieutenant de Carabas - I want one security guard here on duty at all
times. Lock down your stations, people. Let's do this thing."
She realised that there was a slight overspill of character there, but no
matter. She made her way carefully to her ready-room. It had been quite a
long time since she'd been on an away mission. Hopefully the town wasn't
*too* full of things to trip over..
=^= SB BoB - François quarter =^=
François got up this morning and in a very good mood. As he watch himself
in the mirror, he could see his cut on his lower lip. He would need to
fix that in the infirmary. That didn't matter, the talk with Sybil was
very interesting and motivating and he was exciting about the future
project with her and Snookums.
He felt energise but he still had a obstacle. He had prepare the night
before his quarter, white cloth on the table, fresh flowers, a bit of
encent.
This morning he plan to invite the captain for breakfast, one he would
cook himself, now all he had to know is if the captain would accept. He
had cut fresh herbs from the aboretum, herbs he had grown himself thanks
to Snookums help. He look at the star as he press on the starfleet comm.
"Bonnenfant to Captain Mulder" she migth be jogging, he remembered she
like to do it before her shift.
"This is the Captain," jogging steadily along the lower decks with
Sherlock at her heel, Mulder wondered what was so important at this time
of the morning. She hoped it wasn't trouble. "Go ahead."
"I was wondering if I could steal you for a report on the bodies of the
ship and at the same time I was wondering if you wanted to taste my
famous Oeuf benedictine?" He became silent, he could hear his heart beat
faster now
"Ooof?" the puzzlement was clear in her voice. "Benedictine? I don't
drink *this* early in a morning, I can assure you, doctor." She jogged
on. "I got the bit about the report...but the rest? In English, s'il vous
plait."
"It's breakfast, it's a type of egg, really good but no alcohol." He
smile as he put the champagne back to it's original place.
"Ahhh right," she chuckled. "That sounds extremely civilized. I'll be
there in ten."
"Excellent" He was still surprise of how fast everything went and that
she agreed.
* * * * *
True to her word, Mulder pressed the entrychime to Francois quarters at
exactly nine and a half minutes later.
François putting the herb in his patatoes as he heard the chime, he made
sure that his uniform was well place and move to the door to greed her.
She jogged the last few paces into the room, and stopped to catch breath.
As usual, she was earing only a tight cropped black t-shirt and black
shorts. "I swear you've seen me in less clothing than anyone on the
station this year," she laughed easily. "But it's okay, you're a doctor."
He started to laugh " Don't worry their no dress code here" well the only
one might be butt naked but that he would leave for *special* guests.
"Just as well," she smiled. "And I'm certainly hungry. I brought mt dog
with me, I hope that's okay?"
He walk toward the table and pull a chair for her "What your dog name ?
You can leave him loose nothing to worry," as he but a few bacon strip on
the ground and wink at the dog.
"He's called Sherlock," she looked at her dog, "And he was already named
when I got him - although, it does seem to suit him extremely well."
Sherlock didn't comment, being too busy wolfing down the scraps with
great enjoyment.
He walk back to the small kitchen, the smell of fresh herb, patatoes,
bacon could be easy smell as the french cook started to prepare the eggs.
" So ready for that wonderful report, it even included drama, suspence
and a love scene" He started laughing.
"Oh my goodness - all that before breakfast?" Mulder rested her elbows on
the table and cupped her chin in her hands. "Please do tell."
"Well, first their not human, maybe humanlike but their DNA differ from
anything we have on the station, we're trying to determine to witch race
known it's could be link. But so far nothing..." As he crack a egg.
"It was a bit of a long shot anyway," Mulder shrugged. "Of all the
billions of life forms in the galaxy, we only have information on a
fraction of them. Just our luck to get the ones that aren't known yet.
So, what else?"
"Secondly, when I try to make my small autopsy, I had a meeting with the
wall, a energy surge push me against the wall. I try a few cruising line
but they didn't seem interested by my bleu eyes" He wink.
Now Mulder did look startled. "An energy surge? To stop you from cutting
into them?" Some of Mort's suggestions filtered into her mind. Maybe
there was much more to this than met the eye after all. "So..we don't
know what's making them tick, but ticking they definately sre. Right. Go
on."
"Now here's the part you will hate" he raise a eyebrow " that's a warning
by the way" he smile " I know you..." choosing his words "telepath and
empath are not your favorite people, but you must had read my mother was
a telepath but I have no powers..."he said quickly.
Mulder stiffened slightly, but just gave a sharp nod. "I am aware," she
said with a touch of collness in her voice. "I don't hold it against you,
since you have no powers to speak of."
"Well, it's seem the bodies were there with me when I was making my visit
with the BOFF team. I wasn't alone, well I think and yes I know the BOFF
team was there also" he smile.
She relented to give a small smile back. "It's interesting you should say
that. I was talking to Crewman Bowers in the Command centre yesterday,
after he'd been onto the ship. He said something similar. And when I was
on there myself, I could see some of the others...being uneasy. More so
than the situation warranted. Only fractionally, but I could read their
body language. And...I sensed something too."
"You did? Can you describ what happen?" He stop for a moment then
continued with the egg process.
"I can't explain it exactly," she said quietly. "I have no sense of
telepathy at all, but I *do* have a very well developed sense of danger.
Call it a Warrior Sense. Something was slightly 'off' there." She
sighed," i don't know where that leaves us."
"Well, leaves us...with alot of quetions" he laugh
"But I do know one thing.. I'm hungry," she brightened and grinned.
"It's coming , in a few minutes, you seem very eager to eat!" he smile
"I have an odd metabolism," Mulder gave a wry smile. "Jaz'Aarians eat
often to keep their bodies in good working order. I process energy very
quickly. So I get to enjoy lots of great food and don't put any weight
on. Gotta love it."
"Excellent, I'll make sure you have the appropriate portion." He started
to prepared the plates "You must be the envy of all the women on the
station" he smirk.
"As big a plateful as you like," she rubbed her hands together. "I'm
looking forward to this!"
He put the plate in front of her. The edge was made of silver and the
presentation was very nice, having fruit done in flower shapes. "We don't
want to forget you" Talking to the dog as he put down a little plate.
"This looks wonderful," she exclaimed in genuine pleasure. "And I'm sure
that Sherlock thinks so too." She lifted a forkful to her lips.
He didn't eat before she taste the dish. "So you like?" as soon has she
swallowed her first bite.
"It tastes as wonderful as it looks," she grinned as she began eating
with enthusiasm. "I could get used to a life like this. You spoil me."
"I had another project to discuss with you, I finally have my things in
order. First the shop, it's almost ready to go, the people were extremly
involve. I'm really happy. Then the infirmary will is under evaluation
for the renovation, another thing that going almost according to plan.
But here is the portion, a foundation, Foundation BoB!"
"Foundation...BoB?" she paused her fork mid-air.
"The foundation would be finance also by the shop, so the profit would be
split between the two. The CEO are also perfect, Sybil and Snookums. We
would collect donation from different shop that wanted too and would use
the resources to provide support to families, youth and people in need.
We would also promote the station to families that wanted a second
chance. Most of the crew here had it because of the structure, also
because of you" he smile at her. She was beautiful even in the morning,
he blink and continue. "See this as a chance to give a better quality of
life to those who choose to stay here or move here. A chance for children
to have proper activity and services." He stop being almost out of
breath.
Mulder was finishing up her meal as she listened to the wealth of
information. Giving herself a moment to think, she pushed her plate
aside.
"Doctor," she began, "You have a kind heart, and I admire your efforts. I
will give you support in this, but there have to be limitations."
The doctor look at her with attention.
She gave a small smile. "First, I don't want us to promote this station
as a refuge. I can't do that - it wouldn't be right, or fair. This is a
very dangerous place. We are hopelessly understaffed and always will be.
We can barely cope when there is a disaster or emergency as it is. More
civilians mean more responsibilities, and if we know we can't protect
them all, then the only thing we can do is keep them away as much as we
can. I hope you can understand that?"
"I do, but My ntention is not to become a refuge camp neither to promote
the station as being the salvation of any race."
"That's good. You see, this starbase was first built over thirty years
ago as a first line defence against the Sayl'reth. But they never came.
And yet - they still might. One day they're going to stop fighting
amongst themselves and turn their attention to the rest of the galaxy
again. And when that day comes, we're right at the sharp end." Her voice
was quiet and meaningful.
The doctor stood silent letting her speak her mind before answering.
"Right now, we take in as many traders as wish to come here. It gives us
all recreation, so far from civilisation. And we're busy, with so many
ships using this place as a long-range stopover. Sometimes, we get
transients who stay - people who have nowhere else to go, and those are
the ones you're talking about and want to help. And I approve of that,"
she nodded.
He smile but again choose to let her continu.
"The only thing is, those people have the basics of life, they get low
grade quarters at low rentals, and they can pick up casual work to help
supplement their basic rations. But that's all there is," she gave him an
intense look. "If we encourage more, then we won't be able to provide for
the ones we have here already. So let's do some good for those we can,
but keep it a low profile," she smiled gently.
The doctor straigthen his posture, this was a professional discution
something he wanted to avoid. " I undstand your point and understand your
position. I will start by saying that you're the captain and that I
respect you more then I have anybody." he pause " The first thing people
said when I spoke about BoB is that only rats lived here, that it was a
dump. I came anyway what I found was that people here found a home, found
a way of becoming something they dream of, but people here look down on
themselve almost the same as the exterior people. This is not a dump, we
have the rigth to expect more, we have to expect more. The best way to
have more officer is change that image. To change that image we must help
those who choose to live here and make this place a place of quality and
good living. Let stop thinking this is a place of broken dreams and see
it as a dream."
Mulder shook her head slowly as she smiled and said softly, "You're both
right and wrong. If we change our image, the officers that will get sent
here will be what 'they' consider good officers. But they won't be to
supplement us - they'll be to replace us. There will always have to be a
dumping ground for the ones that Starfleet wants to forget about. This is
it, and this is how we must keep it."
"Otherwise," she toyed with her fork, "The likes of you and me and
everyone else who got sent here will be just sent somewhere else. And I
don't want that. This is home for us. You see?"
He didn't seen that side of it, but now better understood the way of BoB
"I see, strange way to approach the situation, but still very logic"
"And as to thinking this place is for broken dreams - the only people
that think that are the people that haven't been here yet. We don't see
it like that. But it sure as hell is fun managing to beat the odds
whenever we can. The stuffy top brass can never quite work that one out,"
she chuckled to herself.
"I understand your point, war may come, war has come to others. Civilian
were there, that's a choice they made when they choose it. You're the
captain and I will follow your experience and judgement that I can
promise" he look at her in her eye and gave her a warm smile"
"Good," she said brightly. "Now, dare I ask if there's any of that
excellent breakfast left? I'm sure I could manage another bit more before
I go on duty."
"For sure" He got up took her plate and went to give her another portion.
Thinking she could actually sleep here and always have a breakfast in the
morning, he smile.
"I shall have to re-name you as my personal physician at this rate.
Keeping me healthy before I go to work. This is luxury," she grinned.
"And Sherlock thinks it's his lucky day, too!"
He started laughing " Anytime, just let me know, I think eating with
someone is always better anyway, it's even better when it's with someone
you like" He wanted to say love, but manage to control himself.
"Absolutely. Good friends and good food, can't beat it."
"So how are you doing? I mean I talk about my adventures with the ship
but how about you anything interesting?" He gently drop the plate in
front of her.
"Interesting is a subjective word," she smiled her thanks and began
eating. "Theories, many theories. We can't get inside them, but we're
pretty sure they want something from us. Only trouble is, they can't
communicate it. Or maybe they won't.." she frowned slightly.
"I think they're trying to communicated, the method they use may not be
the best one."
"I'm wondering, Doctor, if you could keep on trying to do an autopsy. It
might force their hand - or trigger something, to give us more
information. But you'd have to be careful."
"Yes, being thrown on walls is not part of my extremes sports, beside
those energy pulse are not good for my brain function" He smirk " Could
give my some leave, you know going to the beach or something" he wink.
"Hm, we'll have to see about *that*," she grinned. "It might not even be
successful, but let's examine their responses, see if we can identify a
trigger reaction. See if they really are dead, or there is something
sentient still in there." She'd already neatly finished her breakfast.
" True but I think I'll use different methods to see what can be
accomplish" looking surprise that she'd already finish.
Mulder stood up. "That was absolutely delicious. I'm sure I shan't need
to eat again for a few hours now," she grinned.
"Pleasure, come back anytime you want" He look at her walking toward the
door. He was now her friend...it was a start.
-=- Jackson’s Whole....The Frog and Nightgown Boozer -=“Ets a long long way to tiper-rareee!” A couple of drunks caroused as
they daisy doed around a table.Jigs and reels made the air thick with
profanities, smoke and the smell of beer. “I say et’s a long long way...”
“Gev us a point of ol’speckled hen well yer, Burke,” Shadrach Barnes
propped himself upon the bar. “Deres a floi in dis here point.”
“So there is, Shadrach,” Burke put down a grubby bar towel to pour
another well diluted pint. “End he eppears to bey doin’ der backstroke,
on der house.”
“Well, bless yer britches, Burke,” Shadrach grinned as the yellowing foam
cascaded down the side of the water whitened pint glass.
“You keep drinking, Shadrach,” Burke nodded to serve someone else.
“Me and my gal need a room, Burke,” A rough and ready looking hop
smuggler had rolled into the saloon. An oyster wench cooed as she sat in
the crook of his arm “You’ll do well to sort me out,” his cheeks were the
same colour as Bramleys, given how much cider was swimming around his
system. “I sat on the warm cider whilst you named your price, you own me.
“Same rate per usual, Creb-apple,”Burke responded, holding out a palm.
The woman blinked, as though feigning some out of world innocence.
“Yow want to make use of ma establish-ment, missy, I’ll need raynumeration,” Burke gave a click of the fingers. “I don’t do credit.”
The hussy rolled her eyes, before lifting up a clutch of skirts. There
were a couple of wolf whistles as a grubby garter was revealed. Attached
to which was a silk purse.
“Eleven, twelve,” Burked smiled to see the slips land on the bar.
A fight was about to break out between the dancers who had only
momentarily danced together.
“En case youse all missed it,” The woman pulled up a barstool, before
planting her derriere onto the bar. “Ma name es Havelock Burke, and thes
es ma bar. So the choice is yours. Ma roof,” her hand went for the belt
that hung over the waist of the weary brown trews that had seen better
days. “Ma rooles,” she stated with a glint to aim the barrel up towards
the ceiling. “So eff youse don’t take too kindly to that,” with a well
placed finger trigger something bullet shaped hit the ceiling. “Scram.”
-=- Painted lady tattoo parlour, Hazel street, Birmingham. A week next
Tuesday -=
There was that horrible buzzing sound that ordinarily one would associate
with the dentists’ chair. Whilst there was a chair involved, thankfully
there were sadist dentists in this little venture. Dhillon was wincing
behind a copy of a three month old edition of Tatz.
“OWWWWWW.....HOLLLLLEEEEE MOTHER OF......”
“No one told you to have another one,” Dhillon was just about audible
over the menacing buzz.
“Why...fch...are you are...fch...here again?”Arihana asked through
gritted teeth.
“To hold your hand, believe it or not,” Dhillon replied. “Don’t know why,
I’m just the father of your son. Which, incidentally, means that if you
can go through labour, this should be a doddle.” He stood placing the
magazine down to have a good look at the reason why he had been dragged
half way across town to this sore on the face of Birmingham.
“Just keep talking, or I shall stand up and smack you.”
“No, thanks, I prefer my mug the way it is....”Frowning, Dhillon tried to
make sense of what was being drawn under the skin of his ex-wifes’ left
shoulder blade. “That and if you stand up at this stage, you can’t sue.”
“Tell me something interesting, before I pass out.” Arihanas’ knuckles
were blanching white on a rest next to her head as she refused to look,
“Einstein never wore socks,” Dhillon offered, still following the flow of
the ink.
“Not funny,” was the muffled reply.
“But you’re still awake. So it must have been interesting,” he really
didn’t care.
“You’re done,” the tattooist replied with a drone.
“Lovely,” Arihana grimaced at the horrible sensation that was going
through her shoulder as she moved. “Mirror?”
“There,” the tattooist nodded towards one that hung on the wall.
It was something of a difficult task, craning her neck to see the fuller
picture. “Not bad, I quite like it.” There was an angry red patch around
the baseball bat and cricket bat emblem.
“Well, I don’t,” Dhillon shook his head to look away. “And no, I’m not
gonna kiss it better.”
“Bet you will.”
“I won’t.”
“Then you’re sleeping on the sofa.”
“You paying for this?” The tattooist enquired before a full scale
domestic ensued.
There was a time and a place for batting ones’ eyelashes.
“No, you don’t,” Dhillon edged backwards. “I’m not going to, and you
can’t make me.”
Stepping forwards, Arihana whispered something into his ear.
The tattooist did his best to mind his own business, only he did lip read
something about a choice between a lumpy sofa and silk sheets.
Stiffening a little, Dhillon stepped forwards. “Fine, this one is on me,”
he stated having being backed into a corner. “What’s the damage?” he
asked retrieving the wallet.
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
"Mulder to engineering. Lieutenant Omar Mattingly - I have a job for
you."
"You always do, Sir," Yus Mattingly observed casually.
"Bit of a strange one," Mulder grinned. "That alien ship needs a bit of a
forensic engineering investigation. Can you take a team over there and
give in a thorough going-over. It's okay, there aren't any bad guys
waiting to jump out. Your esteemed husband has already gone through it
from top to toe."
"Ah, the only traces of chocolate would be from the wrappers then," she
concluded resignedly. "Would like me to look through their system?"
"Yeah, just...see if you can work out their propulsion system, and poke
around the components, see if there's anything recognisable there. If you
can identify the source of anything, then it'll give us a starting point
of where they might have originated from."
"Just one problem, it will be lunch time by then," Yus winked.
"Is that bribery, lieutenant?" Mulder chuckled. "You can report and
findings to me at Pigs. My treat. How's that for work incentive?"
"Pretty competitive, I'd say. For some light years and beyond," she
retorted. "Do I get some hot and latest news, too?"
"Yes.. gossip too," Mulder rolled her eyes and laughed. "But you'll have
to give me some findings worth my while."
"But of course," she agreed, laughing.
=/\= Aboard the alien ship=/\=
"Funky," Yus commented as she leaned against a bulkhead and surveyed the
particular section.
"No doubt about it," Vadai confirmed, "they're from a long way."
Lt Mattingly frowned as she read the marks on the isolinear spanner.
"This component could possible have originated from ..."
".. the Delta Quadrant." Marcella Vadai finished for her.
"What'll I tell Mulder?"
"Dinosaurs have landed."
"Come on." Yus rolled her eyes.
"T-Rex is here to stay."
Even Yus had to laugh at that. The components, much less the ship, did
not look all that intimidating.
=/\= Several hours later - Pigs In Space =/\=
"Actually, what I may have overlooked, is that the ship may not be as old
as it looks simply because it's travelled a long way," Yus admitted to
Mulder.
"How far is your best guesstimate?" Mulder had already ordered, and they
sat at a quiet table towards the back of Pigs.
"The Delta Q." Yus made a face.
"Ahhh, that might explain a lot. They're all weird in the Delta
Quadrant," Mulder nodded. "But all the same - what a journey they've had.
That's just plain nuts - maybe they *did* have a definite destination in
mind, but something malfunctioned, and they went off track."
"Way off track, I'd say," Yus pointed out.
"...yes, and maybe we're the nearest thing to what they were looking
for," Mulder finished. "I don't suppose it's any good trying to track
their origin much more, I mean, we're talking millions of light-years
here, must be. More important now, I guess, is what do they want and how
do we give it to them."
"Huh?" Omar Mattingly looked bewildered for a moment.
"A more tactful way of saying, 'how the hell do we get rid of them'"
Mulder chuckled. "Is there anything else you noticed?"
"They had a lot of ports for plug-ins. I can't for the life of me figure
out why they needed so many," Omar Mattingly rolled her eyes.
"This might seem an odd question, but did you feel that you were being
watched, in there?" Mulder shot in out of the blue. "It's just...there's
been a few reports of people feeling...uneasy, uncomfortable in there. I
admit I got a strange sense of something not being quite right myself. I
was just wondering if you'd felt it too?"
"Can't say I did," Yus admitted. "Then again we weren't in there for too
long."
"Meh, it's not vital," Mulder shrugged. "Maybe it's more to do with the
environment than the actual aliens themselves."
"What do you suspect is wrong with that ship?" Yus asked.
"Everything," Mulder growled. "And yet, for the life of me, I can't
figure out what or why. The bodies are resistant to autopsy, and we're at
a dead end right now. Do me a favour - yes another one - and cross-check
everything you've catalogued with the database. Even though there aren't
any records of the species themselves, maybe further investigation might
show a match, somewhere, so's we can narrow it down. It's a long shot, I
know."
Yus leaned back and regarded the situation with mild interest.
"Definitely. A more thorough check will reveal much more than I can
report right now."
"So, that's business," Mulder was happy to attack her cake now. "What's
new on the gossip front? I can tell you one I've got - did you know that
young Crewman Bowers' mother is dating the Gamma Fleet Security Advisor?
What is it with this place?"
"It's turned into Romance Central," Yus grinned and rolled her eyes.
"Well since she's from the Enforcer, then *technically* it's not a BoB
romance, but it's as near as dammit," Mulder grinned. "After the romance
with Counsellor Dharma and former Admiral Reynolds last year...." she
broke off, "But it's your turn now, Lieutenant." Her sharp eyes had been
watching Yus. "Any news for me?" she asked ever so casually.
"About the good Counsellor Dharma?" Yus Mattingly asked innocently. "What
makes you think I have any news about her?"
"Because of the way your body shifted when I mentioned her and the former
Admiral. And the fact that I asked about generic news in a generic and
you immediately thought I was asking about the Counsellor... your own
brain made a connection that you already knew about. That, and I'm just a
smartass about stuff like that," Mulder cheerfully admitted.
"Darn," Yus smiled sheepishly. "I wish I didn't give myself away so
easily. Dharma's back with Havane," she announced without warning.
Mulder's mouthful of tea made a startling re-appearance and nearly shot
the hat off a passing Bolian. "What the cocking heck??!!??" she
spluttered, coughing and trying to catch her breath. "Alright, Miss
Clever Clogs, I'll call that a definite return hit. You can't be serious
though? Are you?" She checked the body language again then said with
dismay, "Oh good grief, you weren't joking were you? It's true."
"Yep. Old Dhillon. Genetic contributor to Suraj, the weird child," Yus
confirmed.
"There's something *definitely* strange about that child, for sure,"
Mulder agreed. "But what the hell does she see in him? The man's a GradeA scuzzball. A bully, a wife-beater, a con-man, and spiv..." Mulder ran
out of shady descriptive terms.
"I dunno. She seems to have a yen for him, methinks."
"It's being away from BoB," Mulder declared. "It gives you insights into
reality which are a bit scary. So you return to your natural state of
being with the father of your child just because it's the 'sensible'
thing to do. That's reality for you.. awful dreadful state of mind. She
needs a dose of healthy insanity, but so far from BoB, I think she's
doomed."
"That bad?" Omar Mattingly's eyebrows rose laughingly.
"It's almost enough to put me off my tea and cake. Almost, but not
quite," Mulder grinned. "But I shall have to bust up her party at some
point. It's my duty as an interfering CO." Mulder quickly snagged the
last-but-one cake from the plate. "CO's privilege," she said with fake
innocence.
"Damn you," Yus replied with envy. "Does that mean a trip to Earth?"
"No, I'm only joking. Probably," Mulder shot Yus a curious look, "Are you
hankering for the green, green grass of home or something? You sounded as
if you'd have enjoyed a home visit."
"Oh," Yus shrugged. "I haven't been back for awhile."
"Now, tell me something soothing to my nerves," Mulder picked up her cup
of tea. "How is life treating you personally, Mrs Omar Mattingly.
Everything going well?"
"I'd say reasonably well, except my tamar got stuck inside a bulkhead in
Corridor 23, in Section 5." She said no more but her expression indicated
there was more to it than that.
"Hmmm... Okay.... let's hear it all...." Mulder knew that this was going
to be a tale worth hearing.
"Well, for a second I thought Nameless had just wandered off. So I
scoured the adjacent corridors in search of her," Yus began.
"You tamar is quite well-trained - and has the sense to know this isn't a
safe place to wander around in," Mulder commented. "Yeah, that sounds
odd."
"At that moment, two dodgy types turn up all convenient-like and claim to
be pet detectives, specialising in retrieving lost pets at that. I
thought it was a little too unlikely to be mere coincidence."
"Ahhhhh.... the pieces begin to fall into place," Mulder nodded. "A
couple of hustlers, I'm guessing? Did you have to pay them?"
"Nameless picked the right moment to howl," Lt Mattingly recounted. "As I
headed toward the sound, I ran into a bulkhead. Now there is no way in
Delta Quadrant or the blasted beyond that Nameless could have gotten in
there on her own."
"Quite. Looks like you managed to avoid being fleeced there." Mulder
sighed, shaking her head. "The things we have to put up with. Lucky for
them they didn't try Sherlock. Or I'd have had to send them off to the
Infirmary. Did you get their names? What did they look like?"
Mattingly frowned. "Skinheads? No... it was gothic something.."
"Oh! The Goth detectives..." Mulder clicked her fingers. "Yes - they've
got a store here on the Promenade, not that many people ever go in there.
It's where Pisces Delight used to be, so I expect people are a little
wary anyway. I reckon you ought to get your husband to have a word with
them - he'll put the fear of BoB into them, sure enough."
"I certainly will," Mattingly assured her. "They can expect a visit from
him when I get round to telling him, he's been so busy I couldn't find
time to mention it."
"I'll keep an eye out myself, too, maybe drop by just to...look...and
make my presence felt," Mulder gave a wicked grin. "And talking of making
my presence felt, I ought to show my face in the command centre now. Have
you got any more gossip to keep me here? You can always make some up to
give me an excuse not to go back to work," Mulder laughed, knowing she
really had to get her ass back on duty.
"Well, even if I had any gossip, *I* have to get back to work," she
replied mournfully.
"Guess so," Mulder signalled for the waitress and sighed off for the
drinks and snacks. "Got a lot of work on at the moment? Silly question
around here, I know..."
"Yeah, maintenance work is keeping us busy this week," Yus Mattingly
informed her.
"Isn't it always," Mulder gave a rueful smile. "One of these days, I keep
telling myself, they'll come and fit a whole new energy core, and then
you'll be able to put your feet up all day."
On that note of wildly improbable optimism, they made heir farewells and
departed back to respective duty stations.
-= BoB, Promenade =Vega walked slowly. She was watching, waiting, eventually knowing that
something would go wrong. Not by any emotional instinct, but just for the
1 established fact that was the essence of BoB: if you aren't being
attacked, frozen, or kidnapped, then something is wrong on BoB. She
looked around, no problems from the klingons, not even a peep out of
them.
As the captain had warned, she kept popping in on Chera. But he didn't
know that she was popping in, or she was security. She'd always manage to
bump into him and keep going, giving him enough time to wonder who she
is, and not enough time to ask. He was on her list of people to watch, a
pretty long list considering her living situation. She was to keep an eye
on the entire base, and that wasn't such an easy job.
As she was walking she heard a little commotion from one of the shops.
She looked and saw the green marine corps collars and the teal navy
collars. It was probably another argument. THey tended to do that from
time to time. She slowly walked up and observed the situation.
One of the Marines, a big guy, was in an argument with a particularly
smaller Naval enlistedman. "First of all, you'll show me some respect
dude. I'm a Marine. All marines get respect."
"Oh joy! An egotistical Marine. And I thought this day would be slow."
She thought. She waited to see the reaction.
"Excuse me. I don't have to respect that uniform. I've been in Starfleet
for ten years and I've known you for ten minutes. You think that just
becuase you're a Marine you deserve respect from everyone?"
"Yes."
"Well don't think you'll get it from me. I'll respect your rank, but I'll
be damned if I'm to respect you because you're a Marine. Now kid, you've
ruined my day." He tried to walk past but the Marine got in his path.
"You'll respect this," as he was moving to raise his hand, he received a
slight shock to his torso in the form of Lt Vega's phaser. Angrily he
turned around. "Hey you stupid twit! What's the big deal?"
Vega moved into his face. "You're on your way to the brig. Shut your
mouth before I add more charges."
"Under who's authority?"
"Captain Mulder. She's the one that made me a security L-T. Now move your
ass." She didn't wait for him to give anymore lip. She just grabbed the
guy and started out of the bar. "Everyone go about their business as
usual."
She smiled, at least she'd be able to throw someone inside the brig.
-=- Some time ago...Birmingham New Street Transporter Hub...-=Arihana was in a world of her own as she walked out onto the platform.
There were two reasons for being here. To get to work and see that chap
who was breaking up her marriage without realising it. In her ears, the
song started to hum. The bass drum was thudding, the electro pop and
sultry warbling made her smile.
Sipping her well brewed English Breakfast tea from the Polystyrene cup
from Nero she looked to the side. The smile suddenly got that much
brighter.
It was safe to presume she had a thing about suits and boots. Arihana
could spot a well cut one from a mile of. That and shoes. High shine,
four pairs of eyelets and a well worn heel. Only there was probably more
to the guy than what he was wearing.
To think she was about to find out. Three stops down, somewhere between
Henley in Arden and Stratford. Slap bang in the middle of nowhere.
Entering the one end, the carriage doors closed behind her. This the hard
bit. Threading through the rest of the pedestrians all shoved in like
sardines.
Head buried in the morning copy of the Financial times, he threaded his
way through. She would be here. He knew she would be. He’d hear her boots
clip close across the concrete platform every morning. Deep mahogany
coloured. Italian premium leather and re-heeled twice to make them last
longer.
Cadburys’ had lost point three on their season stock. Hamleys were
discontinuing stuffed teddies as some rich kid had complained about a
squeak. The Gherkin in the City of London was full to the rafters.
Business was booming. Plasma generators were a good thing at the moment.
It all seemed a little fuzzy around the edges. His sister had goaded him.
Have your hand read, go on, it’ll be fun. Sipping his hot chocolate, he
scanned the review of the Price Waterhouse Cooper. She’ll be like a
passing storm, the mystic had said. She’ll come in and out of your life
like a passing train. Don’t try to catch her, she’s like the wind. You
cannot contain her.
Three weeks. Yet the going was still good.
Obscene and explicit. He knew that it was wrong. She was married. Not
like she hid the wedding ring.
Soft and silent. That’s what it was. Just like the wind.
Arihana moved towards the centre carriage, the cup chucked some place
convenient.
One hand anchoring him above, he moved slowly. He hadn’t slept well. All
he could do was think of her.
There was that screeching sound with the carriage stopping. People still
paid to ride the train. Was an archaic throwback when all you had to do
was transport in a flash.
He was going to trip, not looking where he was going.
This was a contortionist’s dream, something made her stick palm out
before he landed butt over briefcase on chewing gum stained carpet.
An arched brow with the thought of a man throwing himself at her.
A nod to say thanks, but a thought to whether her heart was as cold as
her hand.
They both looked up at the announcement. This was their stop.
****
Precision. Why on earth did the blouse get placed gently on the back of
chair and not ripped of? The buttons were there for the undoing, but not
to be pulled off. Slowly. As though this was a gift.
The taste of skin. Salt and sweat. The acrid taste of her perfume that
started at her right shoulder, travelled across her back and down towards
her left hip.
Tactical. We both know what we want and how to get it. Take aim and
enjoy.
Hurt. The scratches on his back that never get to heal. The sting each
time he showers as he doesn’t want to let go.
Breathless. To give me a moment to catch our breath. This train may not
stop here anymore.
A game to play. A set of bad feelings. A match not meant to be.
Anyone in? It’s housekeeping.
To kiss and caress. This is coming to an end.
Can’t do this anymore. She has to come clean.
Takes up the blouse, fastens her cuff links too. Azure blue, his fantasy
tears in two.
Curls up her hair, and still he can taste the peonies and vanilla on her
neck.
Game over. This train don’t stop here no more.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Scavengers Hub =/\=
"No, Zellers, ya gotta stay behind fer now," Jinti tried to ignore the
puppy eyes and grumbles coming from the green-skinned pilot. "Ya c'n go
down there laters. First, me and Richards gotta check out the place."
"Awwww..." Jadi shrugged.
"The capn' sez so, anyways. Gotta leave a pilot on duty," Jinti neatly
passed the buck.
"Mmmmf...."
Jinti rolled her eyes and strolled towards the turbolift. "I'll send ya a
postcard."
The turbolift doors closed just in time to thwump against the coffee cup
that Jadi lobbed at her chief.
-= Orbital Docking Startion =Richards looked around as he and Jinti exited the Caledonia and stepped
out into the shabby reception offices of Scavengers Hub. "The Caly fits
in just fine here," he murmured.
"Shore does, spivvy," Jinti grinned.
"What d'you call me?"
"Spivvy. Cuz ya looks like a spiv. Or a pimp. An' I don't wanna call ya
Pimpy," the logic was madly irrefuteable.
Richards looked with some dismay at his shiny-grey suit with pink tie,
artfully decorated with a few spoldges of ketchup. His thick boots
thumped solid on the grubby metal floor, "And here I was hoping for a bit
of muted sartorial elegance..."
"Ya failed. But ya looks great fer low-life," came the bright reply.
"You look like a two-eyed Leela," he flung back.
"A *whut*, now?"
"I don't suppose you ever watched 'Futerama' where you come from."
Jinti scratched her head, "Cain't say I ever did. So I dunno if'n it's a
compliment or an insult. An' don't tell me coz if it ain't the first one
then I might haveta punch ya. Jist to keep in character, ya understand."
Richards just chuckled as they went up to the reception desk.
"We'x from the freetrader Caledonia," Jinti announced. "C'n we get down
to the town and get some beers?"
"Sure. One moment," the Caitian clerk waved a scanner in their general
direction. Now detecting anything other than standard sidearms, he waved
them towards the transporter platform. "Spend lots, fight little."
"Now that's what I call a welcome," Richards muttered as the clerk
activated the transporter..
=/\= Jackson's Whole =/\=
They rematerialised on an outside transporter platform on the edge of the
ground spacedock, for smaller vessels that could land easily. Around them
loomed huge warehouses, and ahead of them lay the main street of
Jackson's Whole.
As there was no-one to check them in or out, they stepped off and started
walking.
The street merged after only a few steps, and was alive with aliens of
all races. They could see roads branching off from the main throughfare
at several intervals, and the general impression was of crowded commerce.
"Whooo... wonder if it's always like this?" Jinti moved smartly out of
the way as a Tellarite guided a loaded hovercart a bit too close for
comfort.
"I expect so," Richards was wishing he'd brought a jacket as the air was
quite chill. "It's the only place for several sectors to re-stock."
"Sorta like a downgraded version of Starbase BoB?"
"How in the heck can you get a *down*graded version of BoB?"
"Yeah, ya ain't wrong. But the folks here don't wash as often," Jinti
wrinkled her nose.
"After a few beers you won't tell the difference," Richards assured her.
"Let's find a bar or something. Start to get in with the locals."
"Bar. I likes that word."
"I like beer even more."
"Hey, ain't that one o'the places the cap'n mentioned?" Jinti pointed to
a large double-fronted building. "The Dog an' Pizzle. Weird name fer a
bar. Whut's a pizzle. hang on, there's one o'them traditional-like pub
signs on the wall. It's got pictures on..."
There was a small silence.
"So *that's* whut a pizzle is. Jeez.. Thass jist plain rude."
Richards snorted with laughter. "The beer is probably good though."
"How d'ya reckon?"
"There's two drunks being sick on the sidewalk outside. Means they must
have drunk lots to start out with," Richards could do Jinti-esque logic
too when neccessary.
"Ewwww...." Jinti styepped round them. "If'n ya gets thataway I ain't
carryin' ya back," she warned him.
"Would dream of it, chief," Richards grinned as they stepped into a dark,
fuggy room. "Are you buying the first round?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Jinti glared at him. "Whut ya havin'?"
"There's a list of the bers on the board there," Richards started
reading.
"Bishop's Finger. Old Peculiar. Bazen's Black Pig. Hadrian Centurian.
Wolf Straw Dog. Tipsy Wombat Rauchbier Moronic Cletus Old Ale Barney's
Achin' Porpoise Extra Special Bitter Ocelot-Robot Altbier Cunning Flying
Squirrel"
"Okays, I reckon I'm gonna have a pint of Achin' Porpoise," Jinti waved a
few strips of latinum in the air the catch the bartender's eye.
"I reckon I'll have the same."
"Two pints of Achin' Porpoise, please, barkeep. An' one fer yourself,"
Jinti slid the latinum across the bar.
"Drinkin' on the firm's time. Gotta love it," she mumured as their pints
arrived. "Cheers!"
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue, Birmingham, Earth -=“The way I see it, Mr.Havane, it should take a year, may be two to recoup
the start up costs,” the suit indicated handing over the pads. “With the
level of backing you have, and the start up costs that you have mapped
out in your business plan. Your investors should be looking at a healthy
return and you a nice pad in the middle of Italy.”
“All looks very straight forward,” Dhillon nodded. “The market is there,
commercial flights are always popular as is long distance haulage.”
“You retained your qualification?” the suit asked. “Having flown before,”
he looked up from a professional indemnity checklist.
“Yep,” Dhillon nodded. “Used to fly with Starfleet as a flight
lieutenant, so I guess it still counts for civilians. And don’t worry,
those that are gonna be part of the shuttle fleet are largely above board
too.”
Arihana pulled into Acacia avenue. Since her Flying Spur had landed
bonnet first into the thames. She had to make to do with a Mini Cooper S.
Was flame red, had racing stripes and a Union Jack on the roof. All very
swish, but not half as good as the Bentley. She was still waiting on the
insurance cheque.
Stepping out, she saw the battered blue Ford Prefect that was now
starting to give the neighbours a cause for concern. Then there was the
other vehicle.
“Woah,”Arihana stood for a moment. To take in the view.A Chrysler Cruiser
and sitting outside her house. She had to resist removing a hair pin and
trying to hotwire it.
“Glad to hear it,” the suit nodded. “I’m only the fiscal adviser, but you
don’t need a lawyer twisting the knife in too.”
“No,” Dhillon laughed. “But that’s what cooperate indemnity is there for.
Got that covered.”
“Hello, anyone in, Dhil, Suraj?” Arihana called out closing the behind
her, tossing her keys in a bowl of pot pourri like normal.
“I’m in here,” Dhillon called back. “Front room,” he added, surveying
further documents.
“Hey, Dhil, where’s Su-”Arihana poked her head around the door.
The suit looked up to the door to see the azure blue cufflinks and the
rest.
“I’m just passing through, brought the accountant by for a.....”
The suit was still looking. As was Arihana. Was an amazingly small world.
Very small.
“..a chat about the shuttles, and will you please stop looking at him
like that.” Dhillon frowned to look at the suit and then at Arihana.
“Sorry, but do you know Jay or something?”
“Jay?”Arihana snatched her gaze back at Dhillon, more than in shock. “Er,
no. Nice to meet you...Jay. Hi. Bye.” And with that, she pegged it down
the corridor trying to stop her cheeks burning scarlet.
Jay looked at the door, wishing the ghost was still there. “That, that
Missis Havane?” he asked to return back to his client.
“Used to be. Became Mrs.Reynolds, but that’s a longer story still.”
Dhillon laughed as he signed something. “It’s all a very long, windy,
couldn’t be written by a nut case, type of story.”
“Right, ahem,” Jay exhaled deeply, “Shall have
some..vague...figures...”he stood to scoop up padds, though he was all
fingers and thumbs. His heart was racing.
“Are you all right?” Dhillon was rather concerned, especially as this guy
was his accountant. “You sure you don’t know Ari-”
“NO. But, Yes, I’m fine thank you,” Jay replied, “I should be leaving.”
He added to walk towards the door and look down the corridor and into the
kitchen.
She could see him from the corner of her eye and see the lost puppy look
on hs face. Arihana was leaning against the sink, having slung back two
fingers of neat scotch.
“Well, thank you for popping by,” Dhillon smiled to put out his hand.
Arihana turned away, slamming the tumbler into the sink and look out the
window.
“A pleasure. Shall see you soon,” Jay replied back edging towards the
door.
“Not too soon, you’re an accountant.” Dhillon cheerily waved him off.
*** Dhillon had left, eventually. The house was hers again. She was
sitting in front of the box watching some cop show that irritated the
hell out of her as they mis-used forensic psychologists. The half a
bottle of wine numbed a multitude of grievances.
There was an electronic ringing on the console the other side of the
lounge, Was probably just Dhillon ringing to say he was home. Three
rings, and he’d hang up.
Four rings. Five rings. Six rings.
“Fer the love of jose,” Arihana hauled herself off the couch to answer.
“Hello, Arihana Dharma. Can I help?”
There was a silence.
“Hello?” she asked again.
“It’s me.”
“I’m sorry,” Arihana bit her lip. “You’ve got the wrong number,” she
wanted to scream. “Please don’t call here again, not for me, anyway.” and
with that, she cut him off.
=/\=USS Caledonia, Scavengers Hub=/\=
The air reeked of stale beer and stale smoke and, occasionally, urine. It
was filled with the sounds of chattering and cries of "Slob! Use the
bathroom! Yuck!" And through it all, the atmosphere surrounding this dank
little corner, the cacaphony of repeated guitar chords, off-beat
tambourine playing, and somewhat off-key singing cut through it all. It
was impossible not to notice Scavenger's Hub's newest musical act, which
had taken up residence on the sidewalk.
Sandrik Celax was nervously shaking away at his instrument and sneaking a
few glares at Evar Carsin, who'd somehow managed to get out of
performing. The Ops Queen, meanwhile, was strumming the same three to
four chords. She had admitted before landing that she was "kinda out of
practice." Kinda? That was an understatement.
Zerin was sticking to the easy stuff, like "Beat on the Brat" and "Oh
Bondage! Up Yours!" She actually wasn't a powerful singer, and the guitar
drowned out her voice. Which was probably a good thing, she thought. Oh
well. Next on the set list were some oldies from her teenage rock band
years.
Sandrik was so looking forward to that. Except not.
The plan was that eventually they would be hired as performing musicians
in a bar. Evar Carsin had managed, somehow to convince the Ops Queen that
every musical group needed a manager, and he could pose very credibly as
their manager. In the meantime, he kept an eye on the guitar case in
front of Zerin and Sandrik. Mysteriously, some people had left money
there.
A scantily clad Orion walked up to them. Carsin felt his knees grow week.
He'd seen her standing on a street corner. He knew what she was. He knew
what she did. And yet he still desired her. She looked very cross. He was
about to suggest they go somewhere...private, when she pulled a coin out
of her pocket, waved it in front of him, and flung it into the guitar
case.
"THERE!" she yelled over the guitar noise. "If I give you money, will you
people PLEASE go? You're driving away my clientele!"
"Can't hear you," Carsin replied.
"I said, YOU'RE DRIVING THE CLIENTS AWAY!"
"Still can't hear you!"
"YOU SUCK! YOUR PLAYING SUCKS! THAT NOISE IS DRIVING PEOPLE AWAY! YOU'RE
RUINING BUSINESS FOR EVERYONE ELSE! GO AWAY!"
Carsin and the Orion looked at Zerin and Sandrik. They were in the middle
of "Anarchy in the U.K." Zerin was really getting into it, too. Carsin
shrugged. The Orion threw up her arms and stomped away.
Now, Evar Carsin was feeling annoyed. The Ops Queen and Sandrik had
ruined his chances with a lady. As soon as they'd finished, he raised his
hand.
"Ma'am," he told Zerin, "I'm in the mood for a break."
"Break?" she replied. "Why now?"
How could he politely explain that this wasn't working? "Ma'am, I think
we should broaden our scope a bit. If we go into a bar and hang for a
bit, maybe we'll catch up on gossip." He pointed to a bar marked
JACKSON'S WHOLE--OPEN MIKE NIGHT TONITE!
"Open. Mike. Night." Zerin grinned. "Carsin, you're a genius. Sandrik,
you and me are going to play open mike night. Maybe we'll pick something
up in there."
Sandrik's eyes met Carsin's. If looks could kill, Carsin would be in the
Caly's morgue right now.
Carsin smiled back. This was better than nothing, right?
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue - Earth -=There was a crack in the ceiling. She had been staring at it for the last
two hours as she tried to go to sleep. The fact that there was a snoring
great lummox next to her, that also contributed to an ability to go to
sleep. Jabbing a foot out, a swift kick was delivered.
There was a groan and a grunt as Dhillon sunk deeper into the eiderdown.
With Dhillon now silenced and slumbering, Arihana mumbled and muttered
something about a conscience as she lumbered out of bed. Grabbing a
dressing grown she threaded her way down the stairs into the hall, and
then down another flight and into her study.
Was the middle of the night, the dead of night. Her head hurt from trying
to flip the coin. Who would she run into the sunset with this week?
Sinking into her high backed checked, she tapped the second button on the
speed dial. The Star Wars theme hummed. "This is Her Excellency Arihana
Dharma Governor Designate of the Urean Colony seeking an audience with
the Right Honourable Captain Mulder," she told the perplexed Yeoman. Most
people just called her Dharma. An odd title to use, but that was the way
she was feeling. Odd.
"Please hold."
It was unfortunate that Dharma's call arrived in the earpiece of Crewman
Daphne Winterbottom, who was hard of hearing and about to retire any year
soon. She commed Mulder, "Captain, I've got someone who says they're Sexy
Flea Dharma, the dizzy mate of the Urine Colony..."
"Put her through," Mulder had caught the word Dharma and tuned the rest
out, as she often did with Daphne's strange relays. She checked the
chronometer, and reached for her coffee. "Good morning, Counsellor."
"Good Morning, Ma'am, having elevenses, are we?" Arihana yawned with
laboured fatigue.
"It seems as good a time as any," came the dry reply, and bearing in mind
the recent bombshell dropped by Yus recently, this call was possibly not
a coincidence. "You don't look very wide awake."
"Trouble sleeping, actually," Dharma replied.
"Oh, what time is it there? No, doesn't matter," inter-galactic timezomes weren't Mulder's forte. "So what do I owe the pleasure of this
call?"
"I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Just like BoB," Arihana
stated wearily. "and I just need something familiar to help me through."
"Yeah," the quiet acknowledgement was understanding. "I had an
interesting chat with a certain Chief Engineer the other day. Things are
a little... turbulent at the moment, I gather?"
Arihana smiled. "I knew Yus wouldn't keep it to herself. My favourite
Blonde that one," she sat back, putting her feet up. Red monster feet
with furry talons.
"I don't understand it and I don't pretend to," Mulder stated plainly.
"You got married with the whole shebang, and whisked off into the sunset
for a happy-ever-after with wealthy distinguished man. And now you're
knocking off a scuzzball ex. They say that ex-sex is supposed to be the
best, but frankly, did you have to put it to the test? What were you
*thinking*?"
"Go on, I'm listening. On stand by for bollocking in the first
degree,"another yawn as she fiddled with her dressing gown.
Mulder threw up her hands, "I can't live your life for you, Counsellor.
And I don't have the right to tell you what to do. You're the counsellor,
you know more about mind warps than me. And you know full well that
infidelity doesn't exactly help a new marriage."
"Dhillon, all credit it to him, had nothing to do with the marriage break
up," she replied. "He's the rock, and the pebble is on the other
line....two seconds...."
"Arihana, I know you're there. Just...just give me a chance to get things
straight." Jays' tones were slurred and laboured. "Does he know, know
that you played-"
Pressing reject, Arihana turned back to Mulder. "Do you really want to
know?" she asked untucking her hair from her collar.
"No," Mulder rolled her eyes. "If it's a harem it's too early in the
morning for me to cope. No, go on anyway. How many are you fooling around
with? No, scrub that. I don't want to know." The CO took a large drink of
coffee and wished she had something stronger in it.
"God my man radar is screwed up," Dharma groaned putting her hands to her
face. "I swear, if Cade Vaughan was standing here in nothing but a towel,
would do nothing for me. "
Mulder's head tilted fractionally sideways and one eyebrow rose slightly
in that look of bemused perplexity that comedians had tried to perfect
for centuries. Her eyes then flickered to the calendar on the wall and
she realised she really must change it from February....
"I can only hope that it's never put to the test," she said faintly.
"Not that it would anyway, there are rules from his fan club that say
hands off, and besides," she rolled her weary eyes, "You'd fillet anyone
who tried, like a kipper."
Mulder half-choked on her coffee. This was the second time in as many
days that Dharma-related things had caused coffee-object interface. Was
the counsellor trying to finish her off in some discreetly fiendish way?
"Other people's affairs are none of my business," she replied primly.
"Now...your marriage," she swiftly changed the subject before she
smirked.
"Yes, the marriage. Tell you what, give me starter for ten, and boil a
kettle. I have all night."
"The marriage." Mulder put her coffee out of reach. It was safer that
way. "Alright, let me guess. Too perfect?"
"Way too perfect," Arihana nodded. " A whole new level of saccharine,
sweetness and something else beginning with S that is best left unsaid."
"It's a fact *not* universally acknowledged that relationships don't
travel well outside of the station. We're probably all interbred now. Or
inter-something. Away from the bright lights of BoB, the fairytale dies
or gets so unbelievably sappy that both parties become stabbable. Here,
you're always on the edge. Happiness is taken when it comes as there
might not be another day to enjoy it. But away from danger..."
"Was just me, him and this mushroom cloud of niceness," Arihana curled a
stray lock, "Craved something dangerous..."
"Yeah. It's like there's nothing to concentrate on except the
relationship. And then the cracks start to show. And temptations happen.
Who wants perfection, anyway? Perfection stagnates a person, stagnates
the soul."
"Temptations was nice,"Arihana was still nodding. "Very nice, times
two...."
"You should probably never have left BoB," Mulder was in a prosaic mood.
"It might have survived then. I wouldn't bet the farm on it, but it would
have stood a fighting chance. Once you left the rarefied atmosphere of
insanity, it was doomed before you'd even crossed the threshold."
"I do miss it. The go out to work, may be not come home 'cause there's a
rabid ferengi on the loose," Arihana said with some melancholy. "All I
have to worry about now are parking tickets and eejits messing with the
security services."
"Security services?" Mulder cut in. "Have you been committing crimes on
the side now? I hope you aren't going to tell me you've met a hunky cop
or something as *well*... "
"Well, I've met the former missis Vaughan," Dharma replied. "That was
interesting," she added smirking.
Mulder's hands clenched and she knew that moving her coffee out of range
had been a *very* sensible move. "Really?" she said with a thin smile. "I
haven't had the pleasure. Except for her evil sadistic perverted deviant
MU double, of course. Blew her head clean off her shoulders. That was
good. What's this one like?"
"She's a very nice lady, enough said," Arihana stated. "I'm not going to
say anything that I will regret later."
Mulder felt she was sliding towards a minor precipice here and didn't
know how to put the brakes on. "How long did you meet her for? What were
the circumstances? What's happening down there? Or maybe it's best I
don't know..." she conceded whilst trying to think up more questions.
"But enough about the one woman who knows what makes the Major
tick,"Arihana quickly snatched the topic back. "Dhillon may be a toad,
but he's my toad. Like I told Yus, good guys are nice, bad boys are
better. Can you see my logic, oh wonderful CO lady?"
"I wouldn't know," Mulder said airily and possibly untruthfully. "But so
long as you feel okay about it, so long as it fulfils you, then I guess
that's all that matters."
"I feel normal, as though I'm not pretending," she sighed deeply. "As
though I can scream and shout and I will get a reaction, rather than some
insipid niceness and pleasantries."
"Yeah. I guess I can understand," Mulder gave a slow smile. "I think I'd
go loopy without someone to bounce off of."
"Honestly, I've never been so frustrated in all my life," Dharma clawed
her hands in the air.
"That might not be the exact term to use.. or maybe it's *exactly* the
term to use.." Mulder murmured.
"Oi, where you gone?" There was a shaft of light that poured down the
stairs as Dhillon opened the door, but knew better than to enter. "Kind
getting lonely at the top...."
"There's more to this ex-sex you know, Ma'am," Arihana shrugged. "You
know when you need someone but you don't know why. So you do all you can
to hold onto them, and come hell or high water, you don't let go."
There was a fractional pause. Mulder did know, somewhere deep inside, in
some part of her mind that she wouldn't dare acknowledge. Yes, she
understood. "So, what next?"
"I'm gonna go find out what his problem is, maybe pick a fight with him,
'cause I can," she laughed a little. "Then I have an excuse to make up
and you don't need to know about that," Arihana winked.
"No. I don't," Mulder said firmly.
"Speak wi' you soon," Arihana smiled to wave.
"Hey.... you take care down there. And you damn well call me again. Any
time. You hear?" Mulder gave a lopsided smile. "Miss you, you troublemaking wretch. Goodnight."
As the comm closed, Mulder gingerly reached for her coffee again, only to
find it had gone cold.
Damn. Her mind was full of things she didn't want to think about now.
~Concentrate, concentrate~ she warned herself. ~Work now. Alien ship
needs attention. Think later~
She would have to go down to Pigs and get a fresh cup of coffee. Clear
her mind. Forget things she refused to remember. Yeah. Coffee. The last
refuge of a CO.
=/\= Starbase Raven, Promenade =/\=
It had been about a week since the surgery, and all was going well as far
as Shinandra could tell - and she made sure to check, and check in with
Striker's physical therapist and the Doctors. She was persistent as a
doctor when she had a patient, and she was twice as bad when it was
someone she loved.
The pair were walking down the Promenade one afternoon and found a nice
cafe that they decided to stop by. After sitting down and ordering, she
looked across the table at him with a small smile. "I talked to your
physical therapist this morning and he says that you're making a lot of
progress," she commented.
"I'd have made more progress if you and that nurse had let me have
pizza," Striker pouted. "Am I progressing at a good rate?"
She nodded. "Everything seems to be on schedule," she added. "I like
Raven, and being on this sort of vacation, but I must admit that I'm
looking forward to getting back on duty."
"It's getting pretty busy in here," Striker said. "Looks like we were
lucky to get this table. That's a pretty long line."
Glancing in that direction, Nandra blinked. "Oh my," she commented.
"That's a very pregnant lady," Striker said nodding in the direction of a
young woman. "We've got an extra seat here. Why don't you see if she'd
like to join us while I figure out what I want? It might come better from
a lady."
Smiling, she got up and kissed him on top of the head. "You're such a
sweet man," she said before walking off.
Striker put his nose in the menu looking for something big.
It was several minutes later when Shinandra returned to the table with
the 'very pregnant lady' - having no idea of who she was. "I'm Shinandra
and this is my fiancee, Striker," she introduced themselves to the woman.
Striker stood up carefully, taking things easy. "Welcome," he said.
"Please have a seat."
Sadie had been surprised for the offer, but at about four years pregnant,
she was rather glad for it. She was dressed in Civilian wear today, since
it was a day off for her, and these two seemed to not know her - she
could sense it. The offer was genuine kindness. Most people didn't
recognize her in civ wear and with her hair down anyways, and she liked
that. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I appreciate your very kind
offer. My name is Sadie."
"A pleasure," Striker said.
Both women sat down then. "I don't believe I've seen you much around the
base. Are you posted here, or just passing through?" Sadie asked in a
friendly manner as she sipped her decaffienated tea and longed for the
raktajino her doctors had forbade her.
Once Striker sank back into his chair, he said, "We're from BoB. And the
answer is we're just passing through. I'm part of an experimental getthe-injured-pilot back to work program and Nandra has been posted to the
Artemis. Actually, that's where I'm to go, too, as part of the test
program. Do you live here?"
Sadie smiled and nodded. "I do," she replied. "I've been here for a
little while now."
The waitress appeared and Striker said, "I don't know about the girls,
but I'll take the giant mega burger with everything and the twice baked
potato with lots of cheese. Top that off with a tossed salad the size of
the Enterprise and that'll do for me. Ladies?"
Shinandra looked up. "I'd like a caesar salad with grilled chicken," she
ordered with a light smile.
"I'll have a roast beef sandwich," Sadie took her turn next. The doctor
had told her to get more protein in her diet, and as a carnivore by
nature, that wasn't hard.
"Sadie," Striker said once their orders were taken. "Do you know of a
good place here to buy a wedding dress?"
To this, Sadie blinked and laughed softly. "I don't know. I had mine done
on Risa, actually. That's where I got married. I'm sure there's plenty of
nice places around here, though. It's a big station." A pause. "So, you
two have a date set pretty soon?"
"Aye," Shinandra replied, looking at Striker and then laughing softly.
"Although, we don't yet have anyone to actually marry us."
"Since we are just passing through, we haven't had a chance to find
anyone," Striker added. "We want someone special, but we don't know
anyone."
Sadie laughed quietly. "Well, that would be a problem," she agreed.
"You've not found anyone on board the station here? Since you're between
posts, you could probably have anyone do it - civilian, or just an
officer of high enough rank."
"Well, I did ask one minister I ran into, but he was rather odd ...
wanted us to paint our skin blue," Striker said with a shrug. "Can you
suggest someone?"
"Hmm," Sadie said, feeling in a good mood and sensing such genuine
kindness from these two, and affection for each other, that she was
possessed to make what offer she could. "I may know a Rear Admiral who
could marry you."
Nandra's dark eyes widened slightly. "A Rear Admiral? Why would a Rear
Admiral want to marry two people they've not met..."
Giving a light shrug, Sadie smiled. "She's not a bad sort, doesn't mind
helping out when she can."
"But would she have time?" Striker asked. "I hear they're rather busy those rear admirals."
"Immediately, hell, after lunch, if you like," Sadie replied.
"How do you know?" Nandra asked in return, tilting her head curiously and
eyeing the other woman. Suddenly, a suspicion was coming to her...
Sadie smiled and held out her hand. "Rear Admiral Sadie-marie Stanton,
Gamma Fleet Commanding Officer," she introduced herself again. "I think I
probably have enough qualifications to wed you, if you wished, and I
happen to have the day off."
Striker looked stunned. "You... Admiral... I... Yikes," he said. "You'd
do it?"
Sadie smiled. "Sure," she replied easily.
"Nandra, what do you think?" Striker asked.
Looking between Sadie... Admiral Stanton... and Striker, she gave a
slightly nervous laugh and then shrugged. "I can't see why not, if the
Admiral is nice enough to offer and on such short notice."
"I'd say having such a nice admiral marry us is the perfect answer," he
said.
"Then it's set," Sadie said. "How about we finish lunch, and then you two
can take care of whatever you need to. We can meet at the GFCO's office,
so I can take care of your paperwork for you, and I'll marry you then. Do
you have anyone who'll be attending?"
"No one," Striker said. "My family plans to meet us here before we take
off, but they haven't arrived yet."
Nandra shook her head. "None for me," she said.
"This is very kind of you," Striker said to Sadie.
Sadie smiled. "It's just nice to do something nice once in a while," she
replied, thinking that she mostly did the less enjoyable side of this job
- so this was a nice change.
"Thank you very much, Admiral," Nandra said, then glanced at Striker.
"Nandra, we have to do some fast shopping," he said.
She laughed softly. "Looks like," she agreed.
As they turned to leave, Striker whispered to Sadie, "Can you arrange for
some flowers and a little music? I want to surprise her, make this
special, but she'll be with me and I can't be too sneaky."
"I think that I can manage something," Sadie replied, nodding and smiling
a little.
He looked at Nandra. "Just asking about pink tuxedoes," he said.
Nandra laughed. "You're terrible," she said, gently swatting Striker in
the arm. She glanced back at Sadie. "I guess we'll see in you a while,"
she said, suddenly surprised at how this was all going. So fast, but...
felt right.
****
Striker emerged from the dressing cubicle in a stylish black tuxedo,
white shirt, black tie and what looked like pink walking shoes.
"Well?" he asked.
Folding her arms over her chest, Shinandra giggled and pointed at the
shoes. "I'm not quite sure it matches..."
He grinned as he looked at his feet. "Oh," he said and disappeared,
returning a few seconds later in black dress shoes. "Better?" he asked.
"Much," she agreed.
"Now let's see about what you're wearing ..." He led the way to the next
shop, found a chair, yawned and sat down. He now represented men
everywhere on a shopping trip.
Not paying much attention to him, she started wandering through the
selection of the small shop.
"How about that one?" Striker asked as Nandra touched a lace number with
a neckline so low it could hardly be called a neckline.
She gave him a dry look. "I'd like there to be more fabric than skin
showing," she commented, continuing along. She went through several
dresses, mentally weighing the possibilities of each until she found a
simple, strapless one in a cream color. "This is pretty."
Striker answered behind her. "Nice," he said. "It'll show your shoulders,
which are very well sculpted."
He reached into the rack and held out another cream-colored dress. "This
one has a slit up the side all the way to New London," he laughed. "I
like your choice. And I think it will go good with these..."
Striker produced a box and handed it to her. Inside was a pearl necklace.
"Will that work?" he asked, kissing her neck.
"We'll have none of that in this store, young man," the clerk, an older
woman said, but she was smiling.
Nandra smiled shyly. "I think they're beautiful. Will go wonderful."
"Shoes?" he asked.
"Shoes are good," she said with a soft laugh, walking through the store
to the shoes where she chose a simple pair of heels.
Next, Striker headed them to a jeweler. "I think we need to have rings,"
he said, "unless you want me to run around flying loose."
She nodded. "Rings would be good, though you'll have to be careful when
wearing it. You don't want it to get caught while you're working on the
planes," she went on thoughtfully, a doctor to the end.
They were shown several options. "Simple or fancy?" Striker asked.
"Simple," she said easily. "It's to be a symbol of our being married,
which means that being too fancy will distract from that."
"Then one of these?" he asked. He placed two simple gold bands in front
of her; two simple silver bands, two rings of silver with leaves etched
in them, still very simple; and two rings with a copper look, also plain.
"Delpirium," the jeweler said. "Very durable."
Shinandra looked them over, and looked at Striker. "I like the plain
silver ones," she said softly. "Silver is big in my family, and New
Babel." She really was a different person than who she used to be. Not
too long ago, she would have shied away from anything related New Babel,
but she was starting to embrace her heritage a little more these days.
"We'll take them," Striker said.
Then he kissed Nandra again. This clerk, used to such things, just
smiled.
****
The couple arrived at the appointed spot, the Admiral's office, to fill
out the paperwork. Striker had even found time to be more sneaky. The
office was filled with flowers and soft music. Sadie was in there
somewhere.
As they moved toward the door, a hand reached out and Striker took a
bouqet and handed it to Nandra. He grinned.
"I've been plotting," he said. "Admiral are you in there among the
flowers?"
"Aye, somewhere," Sadie laughed, wandering out
that we'll need to clean these out right after
be a lovely edition to my office if they could
the two of them. "Good to see you. Shopping go
from the back. "Too bad
things, because it would
stay." She walked up to
well?"
"Very well, Admiral," Striker said. "I even got shoes." He smiled.
Sadie nodded. "Good, good," she said, then handed them both padds. "I
figure you can each handle one. Just fill out the necessary information
and then give your thumb print for the signature. Then you can get
dressed and we'll proceed."
"Thank you," Nandra said quietly, taking her padd. The Yeoman stepped in
and guided them in to the front office where there were a pair of chairs
and a table that they could sit. "Forms, fun," she said lightly as they
sat down.
"But in this case," Striker said, "it's for a good cause."
He reached over and squeezed Nandra's hand. Then they got to work on the
forms. Striker spent the first few minutes just looking at the padds.
Then he looked at Nandra. "I can't remember my name," he joked. "I feel
like I'm flying for the first time time and left a door open somewhere."
"It's fine," she reassured him. "You're Lennon McLaren," she reminded him
with a light-hearted smile.
Finally he managed to fill in all the blanks. "This one about family..."
Striker said. "Are you filling in your royals?"
"Well, as much I'd to like to forget them at times, I think I kind of
have to mention them..."
"Might as well," he said. "My mother knows she's the queen of the family
so we can have two."
Shinandra laughed softly.
A little while later, Striker, having looked over everything twice said,
"You done, my beautiful bride?"
She nodded. "I think so," she replied. Getting to their feet, the Yeoman
walked over and took them with a polite smile, saying she'd process them.
There were restrooms just down the corridor where they could change.
Standing outside the door, Nandra gave a small excited smile. "Certainly
a unique way to go about things, but that seems to fit us."
"We're not traditional," he said. "Last one back has to buy the wedding
cake. I love you."
"Yeah," she said, laughing softly. She kissed his cheek. "See you in a
few in the office..."
Striker watched her go inside and then hurried to the nearest
communication post. He'd forgotten the cake. Then he all but ran to the
restroom and hurried into his tuxedo and black shoes. "Socks," he
muttered, removing the shoes and putting on his socks. He stepped
outside. "Shoes," he said and went back in.
Eventually he returned to the office.
Looking up, Sadie saw Striker walk in. She smiled. "You look very
handsome, Mister MacLaren," she said. "I'm sure your fiancee will just be
a few more minutes. Even women of the most simple or casual tastes take
their time on this day," she added, walking around. "How're you feeling?
Nervous at all?"
"Nervous, Admiral?" he asked. "Why I..." He grinned. "I forgot to put on
my socks and then I forgot to put on my shoes. I'd say I was darned
nervous now that you mention it. I just hope this is what she wants. I
don't mean getting married, but not having a fancy church wedding. As we
mentioned, we just want to get married before we get to our assignment,
but that doesn't mean I don't want it to be a very special day for her.
You're helping to make it that, you know."
Sadie smiled. "I'm sure she's fine with it, and I'm glad to help out
however I can," she replied.
"We don't know many Admirals," he said.
She laughed softly. She really didn't *feel* like an Admiral anyways...
Striker turned to see Nandra coming into the room. The music changed to a
wedding march from her planet (he'd worked hard on this one). He was
grinning. "You look good enough to marry," he joked.
"I'd better!" she joked back as they came to stand in front of Admiral
Stanton.
Sadie smiled.
that I get to
I'm very glad
you face each
"It's one of the rare honors of being at the Command level
perform such happy tasks as the marrying of two people, but
and honored to be able to perform such a task today. Would
other?"
Striker turned to face Nandra. He could hardly keep his eyes off her.
Taking in a breath, Shinandra couldn't believe she was actually *here*...
getting married!! She turned to face him, biting down on her bottom lip
but she smiled.
"Lennon McLaren," Sadie said, looking at him. "Do you take Shinandra
Alleir to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for better
and for worse, in all moments and occasions, until death do you part?"
"I do," he said softly.
Next, she turned to Shinandra. "Shinandra Alleir,"
"Shinandra Innendoah Nassotavia Alleit Alleir," Nandra corrected with a
small, sheepish smile. She might not cling to her heritage enough to take
the throne, but in many ways, she was proud of where she came from...
just not her own family.
"Shinandra Innendoah Nassotavia Alleit Alleir," Sadie managed to recite
with a smile. "Do you take Lennon McLaren to be your lawfully wedded
husband? To have and to hold, for better and for worse, in all moments
and occasions, until death do you part?"
With another small but excited smile, Nandra took a breath and said, "I
do."
"Do you have the rings?" Sadie asked next.
"Yes, Admiral," Striker said taking them out of his pocket.
"If you would each take the one for the other," Sadie directed. "Lennon,
if you'd repeat after me and place the ring on her finger... This ring is
a symbol of our love and of the vow we take today. It is unending,
eternal. With this ring, I thee wed."
Striker repeated the words and slipped the ring onto her finger. It
looked perfect there.
"Shinandra, repeat after me and place the ring on his finger... This ring
is a symbol of our love and of the vow we take today. It is unending,
eternal. With this ring, I thee wed."
Taking a moment to recall all the words and in the proper words. She
repeated, sliding the ring on to his hand and giving it a squeeze before
they returned to their original positions."
Sadie took a moment to smile at them both. "With the power vested in my
by the United Federation of Planets and Gamma Fleet, I pronounce you
husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
"You're sure?" he asked Sadie, but didn't wait for an answer. He put his
arms around Nandra's waist and drew her close. His lips found hers for a
gentle kiss followed by one with a great deal of feeling.
When he pulled back, he said, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
He was grinning.
"Not so bad at all," she replied.
Suddenly two teenage girls appeared in the office and threw rice on the
couple. Striker just looked at Sadie and winked.
"I thought this was rather traditional," he said as rice rained down.
Shinandra laughed. After a short while, the girls were shooed away once
Nandra had more rice in her hair than was needed. "You're a lunatic," she
whispered to Striker, smiling. "But I love you."
"And I love you," he said. "Since we were getting married without family
and friends around, I wanted you to have as many traditions as I could
round up. The problem was, I didn't know what the traditions on your
planet were, so you got a mix. I did ignore the Klingon Kra'Fra eating
tradition."
"This is a good thing!"
After having given the couple a moment, Sadie smiled again and glanced at
them. "You two are married now, so I'm guessing you'd probably like to go
off and enjoy the rest of your time before you have to head to your new
post. Go enjoy your honeymoon!"
"Thank you, Admiral," Striker said. "We'll name our first baby after
you... Admiral McLaren. Sounds good..."
Then Striker did the unthinkable. He kissed Sadie on the cheek. "You're
the best."
"I'm glad to help," Sadie replied, smiling warmly. "I wish you two all
the best with your lives together and your new posting."
Striker held out his hand to Nandra. "Shall we go find passion or at
least cake?" he asked. "I have a reservation at a small restaurant
complete with wedding cake waiting for us. Admiral, we'd love to have you
join us for the meal if you've time?"
Sadie shook her head. "That's sweet, but I've plans here shortly with my
husband and my son, besides, you two should be alone." Another smile.
"Now, I have to supervise the cleaning of my office." She winked. "You
two get out of here, have fun! Enjoy your lives together!"
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's office =/\=
Mort lounged in his office chair but for once he wasn't just killing
time.
He was actually waiting for a call to be returned, from Vulcan of all
places.
It all started with an exhaustive search of Federation and non-Federation
news sources. Mort had found a snippet of news from the Ferengi about a
ship similar to the one that was now docked with BoB. There were dead (or
apparently dead) beings on that ship as well, however the vessel had been
sold off to the Klingons. The bodies had presumably been dealt with too.
And, to get the information, he had to trade any number of things he
didn't have.
The Klingon defense force only admited to blowing the ship out of space,
but gave no further details. Only that the ship had been destroyed, and
to refer all further questions to Vulcan authorities. And it was like
pulling teeth just to get that far. Mort had at least been optimistic
that if the Vulcans were involved, things might have been investigated to
the point where it all made sense. But no dice.
The Vulcans had been, surprisingly, even less cooperative. All he got was
a promise of a return call from a designated representative of the Vulcan
Science Academy. Just to be referred to them took over an hour of sorting
through various bureaucratic channels.
Mort waited, and wondered if they would ever get to the bottom of the
mystery.
=^= On their way to the Frog & Nightgown =^=
After walking a few minutes Mike regretted having cowboy boots, he kept
looking over at Carol dress with leather pants and jacket to see if she
was smiling. Did she make him suffer purposely or did she tough he would
blend in easily.
Tol on the other hand was dress loosely with a jacket that reminded him
of a era on earth "the hippies". Walking in those street was less that
easy, each movement from the crowd almost made him jump.
Carol seem at ease, he didn't know how she could be so calm, he even saw
her winking a guy that smile at her. She was almost enjoying herself. Tol
look almost to relax to notice anything. He said hello to most people
that look into his direction and seem like he was born their.
He was....he was miserable, the boots was probably making his feet bleed
by now and the glasses made him almost blind when the light was right on
him. In a alley, they stop..
"We're lost, admit it!" said carol in her strict voice.
"no, no, it's suppose to be on the next right" said Tol
"You said THAT to alley's ago!"
" So what, we're getting information on the place, was that not the plan
mike?" looking at Mike for a defense.
Mike was not getting into this "Let's keep walking and let's find the
place" looking around.
"Would you stop that , you're a merc so act like one, are you afraid?"
said carol seeing that he was uneasy.
"I'm not scare Carol, let's move" trying to avoid yet another subject, he
wanted to get to the *hotel*.
She look at him for a few second " Let's ask those guys" pointing a three
men that just entered the alley.
Mike almost had a heart attack "no, let's walk"
"Yo man, we're kinda here for parts man, was wondering were the frog
thing was.." Tol took the initiative.
Mike almost hit him, he was way to much in character. He was now looking
if they would have any sign of weapons.
"Nexxxxxt rigthhhh" one said, "yaaaaaa" the other added, they were drunk.
"That what I told the chick man, but she didn't believe me" He smile at
Carol witch answer with daggers in her eyes.
"heyyyyyy babbbyyyyy...want someeeee s'funnnnn..." he smile as his friend
fell on the ground.
"She mind!" Mike step in front of her and made himself as big as he could
" have a problem with that?"
Carol froze , so did Tol, they didn't expect mike to step up, neither did
he.
"two of them look at him " yeeeeeeaahh writtttghhtttt"
At that point mike didn't know what to do, one was on the ground two were
beside each other and the fourth was behind them. It's wasn't the right
time to fight. He put his arm around her neck " she's my girl"
Carol almost put him back but couldn't if they wanted to get threw this.
"He's my hunk" she responded
The walked and pass them as soon as they turn the corner . carol push
Mike arm off and look at him with defiant eyes " What the hell was that?"
"Girlfriend, boyfriend, Mike love Carol" Tol was saying while rubbing two
fingers and laughing with didn't help the situation.
"Remember the trust issue Carol, I reacted and found a way out of it" he
look at her seriously. "I didn't mean any disrespect"
"Next time be gay" looking at tol, who stop laughing after the comment.
As they saw the hotel, Mike was trying to figure a way of surviving with
the two of them, it would be interesting that's for sure. They entered
the establishment, it was full of drunk, singing people. Some were just
there for the show.
They walk to the bar as Mike was getting a room, Tol was ordering some
beers. Carol was looking around. They sat and drank before heading up.
They didn't want to look suspicious and the fact his they would have
enough night to get drunk...
=/\= USS Caledonia - Jackson's Whole =/\=
Chess followed the same route that Jinti and the others had already
taken, only instead of heading straight into the town, she loitered by
the warehouses flanking the ground spacedock.
Giving them a scrutinising look, she knew it wouldn't be long before
someone came touting for business, and she was right.
"Can I help yer? Looking to rent?" a gruff voice came from behind her.
"Might be. Depends on the price," she only turned casually round once
she'd finished speaking.
The humanoid male in front of her was fiftyish and grizzled, strong
muscles showing through scruffy plaid work shirt. "You're from that ship
just put in, aintcha?"
"News travels fast," she said calmly.
"Got to keep up with what's what," he shrugged. "Ex-Starfleet, ain't
she?"
"Yep."
He gave her a matching scrutiny, "I'm guessing that you've got a bit of
Starfleet about you, too."
She wondered if it was that obvious or he was just taking a random guess.
"Yeah. I was once. Me and Starfleet went our separate ways." She implied
that the parting hadn't been exactly amicable.
"But I hear you still do business for Starfleet? Didn't know they was
hiring ex-cons," he guffawed.
Chess stepped forward so she was right in his face. "I don't have a
criminal record. Right?" The subtext here saying clearly 'they couldn't
ever prove a thing.'
"Okay, whatever, doesn't matter to me," he stepped back, and she knew
she'd won that small round. "Anyways, Benn Sotos, at yer service."
"Chess Myers," she took the proffered gnarled hand and shook it. "Don't
know about storage space. It depends on the sort of cargo we pick up
here," she said blandly.
"Looking for anything special?"
"Right now, rooms and a meal and some drink. It's been a long few months.
And then, I'll ask around, I expect. See what's on offer."
He didn't reply outright, just nodded slightly.
"Know of any good bargains?" she asked, feeling that was the next move.
"Plenty of whatever you like to be had here. Depends on what you can
pay."
"We do okay," she shrugged. "There's always deals to be done, give a bit,
take a bit, you know?"
"Some things, there isn't any deals that can be done."
"Sounds interesting," she trod this dance carefully. "Any
recommendations?"
Now it was Benn's turn to shrug, "You ask around enough, folks will
offer. Try the Frog & Nightgown. People there always know what's on offer
around here."
"Yeah, thanks, I will." She waved a hand in farewell and set off along
the main throughfare. She'd been planning on going to the place he'd
mentioned anyway, and since she hadn't seen any of the crew since they'd
gone down to surface, it was likely that they'd already set up camp
there, which was good.
As she walked, she mulled over the conversation she'd just had. Was it
cryptic and significant, or just generic business speak? Some little
inkling told her it might be the former.
Maybe the Resurrection Casket *was* somewhere on Scavenger's Hub after
all.
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue -=“...and so this dragon is sat there in the middle of Jerusalem, blowing
out smoke rings,” Arihana was stood on a brick wall, spinning a yarn to a
captive audience. “And this was before the days of a smoking ban, so it
was perfectly okay.”
“Waiting,” She was almost skipping up and down the wall. “Waiting for
this random guy, let’s call him George for the sake of argument.”
“Now, George, George was something of a gap year student,” Arihana
continued, hopping of the wall. At her waist was the scarlet sheath that
normally hung in her study above the fireplace. “Just finished his Round
table level of education, the one that won him his spurs and of he went
leaving Englands’ greenest hill. That and he had to earn some money to
pay off his tuition fees.”
“So he gets off a boat,” she re-counted sitting down on the lawn, “ and
is wandering down this bazaar with snake charmers and donkeys for sale,
and he sees a group of blokes, sitting there arguing.”
“No, he hears one say, ‘eet es got peenk wings and green breath’,”
Arihana twittered to the children. “ ‘you es mistaken’, some other said,
‘et is bright green and et breathes flames,” arihana crossed her legs.
“And they carried on, and our George, Gawd love him, went over to
investigate, nosey twonk that he was,” Arihana laughed. “Excuse me, Guv,
he asked, but what you lot on about, nothing I know about that has green
breath, other than me Aunty Mertyl but she’s just barmy.”
“So the chaps tell him. Tell him about this great creature, a huge
monster that dances in the skies,” Arihana got to her feet, and started
to lumber around. “Told him about the flames and the awful screaming.”
“Now, George, Gawd love him, is a bit intringued. So he asks them, 'lads,
anyone actually tried to take this beastie on?, you know, poke it
something, ask it to leave, what have you....'" he asked them.
"'Tek it on, poke it?!' They asked in shock", Arihana pulled a face that
was a cross between shock and disgust. "'Oh, no'", they told our George,
shaking their heads. We just look up and put up."
“So, George, he has a moment, thinks about. Asks, you know if there was a
reward,” Arihana paused reflectively. “Three groats and a turnip, one
tells him. No to mention the hand marriage of the good Lady Marmalade,
daughter of the Orange Grove owner.”
“So his eyes light up, three groats and a turnip,” Arihana laughed, “he
needs the money and he was always hungry.”
“And of he wanders, the fellas tell him, ‘in the middle of Jerusalem, in
a cave’, of goes George. Wandering around Jerusalem, picking up taffy
apples and shortbread for the trek. Wearisome task this, finding a
dragon.”
“He ambles in and out of nooks and crannies, asking folk, where was this
thing, had he been fed, what was he looking for. Some people just looked
at him like he was mad, as though he needed his head examined. Others
fell at his feet and begged him to stick a spike into the heart of the
devil spawned beastie” she described graphically, causing a few
tiddlywinks to whimper.
“But he was all right, our George, not a bad kid. He’d heard about the
nasties, read all about Lancelot and The Grail, Arthur and Guinevere.
That and no one could be as bad as his Aunty Mertyl.”
“George comes to the middle of Jerusalem, it’s a bit a windy that that
and there is smoke billowing all over the place, as though some fool put
out the barbeque...” Trading softly across the lawn, arihana put a safe
distance between and the clutch of children that were Suraj and his
little band of class mates.
“But to cut a long story short,” Arihana retrieved an apple from her
pocket to toss it into the air, there was the cold unsheathing of the
blade. “The dragon, it turned up,” she took a coupled of swings, before
catching the six slices of apple.
Tossing the apple slices towards the kids. “it was a horrible fight,” she
continued, slicing thin air. “Bits of toe, scales, a little bit of tail,
all over Jerusalem. Folks thought it was raining blood,” she grimaced
realising that the kids were probably never coming around here again, and
she already had a reputation as a soccer mom.
“The dragon was forced to no longer exist. Georgie, he sat on a rock, a
bit weary, really wanting his three groats and a turnip. The girl sounded
good too,” Arihana chuckled to dig the tip of her blade into the lawn.
“But anyways, the moral of the story being....”she stated to pull the
sword out, having impaled a worm. “No matter how big and ugly something
is, even the smallest, cockiest of folk, like George, can over come. Can
make a meal of disaster and turn it into a triumph. And here endeth the
lesson,” the sword was returned to it’s sheath. “C'mon folks, let's go
in, it's gonna rain.I suddenly fancy apple pie....”
=^= quarters of Jyan Chera =^=
He saw her coming toward him carrying a bowl of grapes. Her movements
were graceful and she was wearing one of those white gowns so often seen
on Greek statues. It was also the style of garments preferred by his
people's women for centuries.
She was so beautiful and she was all his. He called her Mulder even now
that they were married. In fact, he wasn't really sure if she had a first
name. What did that matter. She was his woman and it was her duty to do
as he wanted. Oh, he knew she hated it, but he loved it and that's all
that mattered.
He leaned back against Alicia Vega, running a hand through her hair. Yes,
she was perhaps his favorite wife even if she had begun her career in
security. Now she was one of the best smugglers he had.
"Darling," he said to Alicia, "I do hope you won't be too long fetching
that shipment. I thought perhaps we'd go out dancing and then to one of
the sword fights. I love to see your muscles ripple when you battle your
opponents. Mulder can watch the children. They're all swimming now."
He put his head on Alicia's lap as Mulder dropped grapes into his mouth.
She seemed to be so docile at the moment. Perhaps her training had
finally taken.
The children, all 23 of them, ran and swam and giggled. They were all
like him. They had gills and lungs. They were just perfect children. This
was indeed the life. He'd never felt so good before.
"Kiss me, Mulder," he said and her lips complied.
Suddenly Jyan's eyes popped open. He was in his bed and a Klingon was
glarling at him.
"You were moaning," he said.
"Drat," Jyan stated. "I was dreaming."
"Let's get to work," the Klingon said.
Jyan stretched. "Go ahead, I'll catch up to you."
He watched his partner leave their quarters. "If I just close my eyes,
maybe I can get back that last kiss," he thought. However, he got up
anyway, dressed and went on down the hall.
"Who is the Sam Hill is Alicia Vega anyway?" he thought. "Wasn't she on
that list of security goons? Still, she sure was quite a looker ..."
He whistled and headed for his ship. Maybe he could get a nap later and
see how she kissed.
-= Vega's Quarters =Vega was standing in front of the crowd. She saw them all, Mulder,
Mattingly, all the security hotheads. They were older now, but much
happier. She looked up at the president of the Federation as he finished
adressing the crowd. Everyone was at attention, the sun was shining upon
her as she let her hair down.
The wind was nothing to her. It just made everything even better. Then
she felt her right hand raise. It was almost unreal to her. She looked at
them, all the men and women wearing the uniform, the marines and the
navy. They were all there.
And the many repititions, uphold the duties of the office to the best of
my abilities. She felt herself saying all of this. Then she saw the
President. He picked up two metal bars with five small dots inside. She
felt them as the man put them on her collar.
"And now I present, the new Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet, Admiral
Alicia Vega!"
She smiled. She couldn't believe that she'd gone from BoB to Starfleet
Command. It seemed to be the best feeling in the world. Looking over at
Captain Mattingly and Admiral Mulder, she knew that she'd been taught by
the best. The best she'd ever know.
But as she moved towards the podium she heard the ringing. It was loud
and she realized that she was waking up. She tried to fight it but you
can't fight sleep. She got up from under her covers and smiled. "Gonna
have a good day today."
She got dressed and got ready for work.
=/\= SB BoB - Mulder's Quarters =/\=
It felt so real.
Mulder looked out of the window on her homeword of Jaz'Aaria and smiled
at the twin moons, their icy grey-blue light illuminating the driveway of
the whitestone house on the edge of Aarius Prime, their capital city.
She saw the hovercar speeding up the drive and the smile turned warmer,
as she moved away from the window.
She ought to have got changed. The reflection in the full length mirror
showed a trim figure dressed in the austere black uniform of the Ba'ax,
the Jaz'Aarian Law Enforcement service. On her collar was the rank tab of
Detective-Captain.
Savoury smells filtered through from the kitchens at the back of the
house, and she decided there wasn't time to change anyway. Besides, she
was back on duty later that night.
Her mind began to fill with the case details, and she felt invigorated.
She would solve this, she knew.
Her musings were interrupted by a rush of small feet behind her, and two
small strong arms grabbing her legs from behind. "Got you, mummy."
"Little monkey," she turned round, laughing. A pair of mischievous blueblack eyes stared up at her, the skin not as pale as her own but still
with a hint of Jaz'Aarian ancestry. "You father will be home any minute.
I hope you've done your homework."
"How d'you know?"
"Mothers know these things," she tapped the side of her nose, and pulled
a face which made him giggle. "Come here," she swept him up in her arms.
Small sturdy arms clasped round her neck as a sloppy kiss was placed on
her cheek. "Love you, mum."
"Love you too, son," she gazed into his adorable baby face. No, not a
baby any more, and yet always her baby. The eyes, so knowing already,
twinkled into hers, then both heads turned at the sound of the door
opening.
The little boy wriggled and she set him down, watching him fly towards
the door. "Daddy!"
She leaned back against the wall, her heart full of the most complete
happiness as she saw him being scooped up for the second time in as many
minutes.
"That's good timing," she said, moving towards them both, father and son.
His face was hidden by the body of his son, and all she could see was the
close-cut dark hair. He set the boy down and began to straighten up, so
she would be able to look into those dark eyes and hear him speak....
The moment of waking often happens unnoticed, and Mulder frowned as she
felt the sheet over her, and her mind was telling her that she'd been
dreaming.
She closed her eyes again, willing herself to go back to sleep, to
recapture the sheer joy of the dream.
But, as it always is with waking up, she became more and more aware of
being awake and the dream became harder and harder to hold on to.
She turned over and curled up again, firmly keeping her eyes closed. Then
the alarm sounded. "Just five more minutes..." she muttered.
In fact, it was a full fifteen minutes before she reluctantly sat upright
with a sigh. If only she could go back to bed, back to sleep, maybe she
could get back into her happy dream.
With another sigh, she climbed out of bed, realising that it was probably
too late for a run now. She'd take Sherlock down to the Arboretum later,
he could run there. Slowly making her way to the Command Centre, her mind
kept wandering back to her dream.
Maybe she could catch a short power-nap in her office later on...
=^= François quarter =^=
François was young again, three or four year of age running in the
vineyard that was producing the nicest champagne. Behind him was his
nounou, anabelle, she was gorgeous but it's her warm hugs that made all
his little scraps diseapear that felt the nicest. He was on her lap now
swinging hoping to touch the big blue sky. Has he blink his eye he
realise that he was still on the swing but a little boy sat on his lap.
His son was smilling at him and ask to go higher. His emotion were
running strong, the sensation of seeing himself as a dad was
overwhelming. Has he turn around he was his house, simple and magnificent
everything he'd wish in his dreams. He saw a little girl run out of the
backdoor screaming "Daddy, Daddy my turn" .He had a daugther, something
caugth his eye, she look alot like Cas with her eyes and long hair. Has
he ran toward her and lift her up someone was calling them inside. The
early summer temperature was almost addictive but he decided to follow
them in.
The inside was even more majestic, the wooden floors, the fireplace, he
remembered he had left some work in his office. As he entered his
confortable chair was turn toward the window, he stop to take the news
paper on his desk, the cover page had is photo and talk about how he was
using the earth and other planet natural enviroment to cure diseases. He
had to look twice to see at the woman by it side on the photo. The
captain look as beautiful , she wasn't in uniform witch was strange but
if she came to support it would be only natural for her to gt dress in
that type of dress.
He heard his wife calling him again, he couldn't remember her face for
some strange reason only her parfum. He follow it until he got to the
little den they had. Their she was reading a book feet up on the couch
with his children on the ground playing game. His one love, Caz Mulder.
She look at him and smile " You OK babe?"
He almost ran toward her. " Ya, just tired what are you reading?" Getting
closer.
He two children were playing a kind of puzzle, it wasn't a earth game he
culd read some of the words.
"Some police adventure book" she grin.
He turn to kiss her forehead as the light got into his eye the image was
kind of lost and his room was now around him. The coldnest of space was
back into his life. He turn quickly and tried to go back to sleep but
without any success. He was now very grumpy, he had eveything he wanted
in his dream, ecerything he wish for....
He got up thinking that he would probably try to have a snooze in the
aboretum near his plant.
=/\= Planetoid T-E-326 =/\=
Cade waved toward the door of the shuttle and the EVA-suited pilot once
he'd surveyed the area. As the door closed, he looked around again. The
shuttle had set down only meters from the array's control column, which
was itself almost twice as big as the shuttle. The light was somewhere
between dim and nonexistant depending on the angle of the slowly rotating
rock in relation to the distant stars. "Alpha Team, Bravo Team, security
perimeter on the site. Charlie Team, start setting up some worklights so
we can tell our asses from a hole in the ground. Delta, start fixing the
damn thing."
"Aye sir," Angel Frost was, predictably, the first to jump to her feet or at least, move as swiftly as possible due to lack of real gravity.
"Tennant, Ecclestone, Pertwee - you heard the Major. Collect the gear,
move out."
Her three subordinates pushed themselves over to the storage pile and
started extracting various pieces of equipment, lifting them easily, to
start providing the right illumination for the task Delta Team faced.
"There ain't any bombs on here are there?" Tennant quirked a grin behind
his faceplate.
"Dunno, what with the Sarge being here," Ecclestone grinned back. "Bomber
DeZusa. Eh, good bloke to have in a situation, yeh?"
Angel Frost's face looked like she'd been sucking on a lemon. "Less
chatter, more action," she snapped. It was extremely galling that DeZusa
had been lauded as the hero of the hour for just tinkering with a few
wires last year. Very galling indeed. "Ready, Alpha Team?"
"Ready, Corporal," Pertwee cut in before the other more mouthy pair could
say anything else to irritate her. 'Gentleman' Jonno Pertwee didn't know
the cause of the friction between Frost and DeZusa and didn't really
care. he just wanted a stress-free mission.
"Then let's get started," Frost bounced and bobbed towards the exit ramp,
her three amigos in tow.
As Charlie Team moved out, William DeZusa turned to his team. "Goodspeed,
Zatok; calibrate the equipment for zero-g." he nodded to two of his men.
"Teresa, come with me." The woman followed him, hopping slowly towards
the Array. The others in the group called her by her first name, Mother,
but William found it to be somewhat morbid that a 5'6" girl named after a
saint was a notoriously trained killing machine. Early on he had decided
to stick to Teresa, as it didn't make him associate the same way.
Getting to the Array DeZusa brought up his flashlight to have a rough
look at it. "Teresa, you've read up on the Mark 15 Supra Conductor?" he
asked the female soldier, whom he knew was a great engineer. "Yup, Sarge.
I have." she said, bobbing over to his position and taking a look at the
part he had indicated. "They're quite similar to the Mark 17." William
nodded at that, being familiar with the latter model he should then be
able to understand this one. They resumed surveying the chassis while
Charlie Team started setting up lights.
* * * * *
The pilot drummed her hands on the control board and stretched, smiling.
A flash of dark hair against pale skin showed in the dimly-lit interior.
Mulder having fun.
She'd been a little surprised at Vaughan's request for a lift out to the
Expanse, but it made sense. With no Flight Commander on the station and
only civilian pilots, she supposed she was a natural choice as fly-girl.
Besides, her battered, clunky, extremely solid runababout ASV Knightmare
was more than large enough to carry the party of marines in spartan but
reliable fashion out to the planetoid.
So, leaving Baxter to run the station for a few days with the help of the
other senior officers - and expecting no real trouble from the mystery
ship that was occupying their investigations - she'd bagged an away
mission for herself.
Running a quick diagnostic - she didn't believe in taking any chances in
such an inhospitable atmosphere - she saw with satisfaction that the
former asteroid-racer was running just fine.
Maybe she'd try and stand up, maybe move around a little. It had been a
*long* time since she'd done any kind of space-walking.
* * * *
"Omega, on me." Cade tried to stride purposefully, but it was nearly an
impossible feat in a micro-gravity environment. He stopped near the
sensor controls, but stayed far enough away so as not to interfere with
DeZusa's repair team. "Right here," he said and pointed to the ground
with his free hand.
Corporal Dawkins let his equipment bundle float to the ground and then
knelt down to start deploying the portable command and control set that
they'd brought. Sergeant Drexer sat on a large rock to recheck his
medical kit, not that there was much he could do in an oxygen-free
environment other than slap a seal over a damaged combat suit. Corporal
B'trall simply stood by, surveying the scene and tapping her gloved
fingers on the heavy phaser slung across the chest of her suit. Cade
smiled behind the facemask of his helmet as he watched the other nineteen
marines around him moving with purpose; soldiers on a mission.
Frost did a quick survey of the territory and a quick calculation. Four
main tripod floodlights, and several portable spotlights. She'd deploy
the four floodlights first, in a rough square, and then see where they
needed extra illumination closer to the apparatus.
Taking one set of tripods from Ecclestone she pointed, "Ten yards from
the main array, North, East, South, West," she pointed to them each in
turn leaving herself as 'west'. "Go."
They all moved with eerie fluidity on the barren surface, their wrist
tricorders measuring distance. Frost herself checked they were all in the
right position, waving to Tennant to go a little to the left, and when
she was satisfied as to the precision of the placings she gave the order
to commence.
Tripod stands were assembled, thickly gloved hands moving slowly and
purposefully, and the lighting heads were affixed. Power packs checked
and switched on, the scene was suddenly lit in sharp, bright contrasts
making the outer edges seem darker than ever.
"Good," Frost said briskly. "Now, portables. Move in and liaise with
Delta team, see where they need any focus of light."
DeZusa looked at the soldiers moving the portable lights. He made a sign
to call them over and pointed out three spots where he wanted the lights
placed. Despite his dislike towards Corporal Frost he had to admit that
she was good at her job. Well, at least he didn't have to admit it
loudly. And he sure as hell didn't have to make her life any easier
because of it. "Corporal Frost," he said over the intercom, using her
rank only to remind her that he outranked her. "The west tripod is
standing right where I need the generator. Could you move it two metres
to the left, please?" his tone made it clear that it was an order,
despite the politeness that he knew would only piss her off more.
"Of course, Sergeant DeZusa," Angel replied in a voice so dripping with
sweetness it could have stripped duranium plating off a Galaxy-class.
Glad that the helmet hid her scowls she said sharply to her team. "You
heard the ..sergeant. Two meters left. Move."
As the men duly moved the equipment she pulled faces in DeZusa's general
direction. Sergeant - ha. He was still a jumped up engineer from a
clapped out ship and a disgrace to the uniform. She despaired of what the
Corps was coming to these days.
* * * * *
In the Knightmare, Mulder made her decision - spacewalking would be fun.
She left the confines of the pilot's chair, unsnapping her harness, and
tried to stand. "Whooooo...." she almost giggled. It was a very strange
sensation, but not unpleasant.
Making her way carefully to the exit ramp, she looked around at the ironcold barren environment. It was raw, real, and rather exciting in an odd
way. ~Damn, I've lived the soft life for too long~ she told herself.
She started down the ramp, bouncing her steps and relishing the sensation
of near weightlessness. "I believe I can fly... I believe I can touch the
sky..." she sang to herself.
The bouncing got higher and higher and she wondered if she would start
turning somersaults and playing with space-dust, thus getting yelled at
for arsing about on a serious mission. It made her chuckle again, and
with a wobble and a little whoop she landed on the surface.
As Zatok and Goodspeed reported that the calibration was complete, Delta
Team proceeded to get the equipment out, starting with the generator.
DeZusa took great pleasure in placing it right where Frost's tripod had
stood at first. He also liked seeing Mulder hopping about, obviously
enjoying herself. It was to him a clear sign that there was nothing weird
going on, of which he had had enough for a while.
When all the tools were powered up they started the diagnostics. Teresa
checked the Supra Conductor first, then moved on to check the power
supply and wiring. Goodspeed did the bug search and update of the
software and Zatok and DeZusa did all the other little things.
Mulder watched the scene with detached interest. This was nothing she
could help with or be a part of, and the sheer release of responsibility
was like a gift. Not wanting to stray too far from the shuttle, she
continued to bounce around and look at the stars. There was a channel
open in her helmet but she kept it on minimal volume. If there was an
emergency someone would surely bellow in a very marine-like voice and
she'd hear *that* sure enough.
Angel and her team were all but done with their task, although the
lighting equipment was for the most part reliable, she was punctilious
enough to keep a careful monitor, sometimes sending Tennant or one of the
others to adjust the settings so the brightness remained constant.
Mulder wasn't overly bothered about seeing Frost there, although she did
spend some minutes pondering happily as to how far Frost would float if
she pushed her off the planetoid...
Finally tiring of bobbing around and singing happily to herself, she
returned to the shuttle and leaned against the side, turning up her
volume a little to listen on all channels to what was happening.
"Sarge, I think I got it." Zatok said after about an hour of searching.
"The motherboard in the Sensor Grid is fried." he held up the part for
all to see. William bobbed over to have a look. "Good work. I'll take
care of that. Resume the diagnostics. Might be something else wrong,
too."
Zatok moved aside and continued his work elsewhere while DeZusa worked on
repairing the motherboard.
William looked at the piece closely, trying to figure out what had made
it burn. To see it properly he had to walk closer to one of the portable
lights. As he looked at it and formed a theory, he understood that
something was amiss. With a sigh he opened the channel to Omega Team.
"Delta Leader to Omega. Major, could you please come over here and have a
look at this?"
"On my way, Delta," Cade said as he surveyed the (relatively) short
distance to the planetoid's horizon. A tap to his glove turned off the
magnification on his face shield and he started to turn away, giving the
rock formation 3 kilometers away one last look. He bounded over to
DeZusa's position and came to a stop amid a small poof of dust. "What do
you have, Staff?"
DeZusa showed him the motherboard in the best light he could find. "It's
burnt here." he pointed to a part that had definitely seen better days.
"Nothing weird about that. Just overloaded. But." he tilted his head and
made a face that showed just how little he liked to add that word. "This
part here is strangely intact." he pointed to another section of the
piece.
"Okay," Cade said, obviously not understanding where the more technically
adept Marine was going. "I get the feeling that you're going to tell me
that it wasn't a power surge..."
"Well, if there was a power surge - which is entirely likely - this part
would indeed be damaged." he pointed to the burnt part again. "But
because this circuit here has a lower tolerance, that too should have
been fried." he explained. "In most cases anyway. I'll check the power
log and the secondary couplings just to be sure, but something tells me
that something is wrong." he gave Major Vaughan a questioning look,
hoping that he would receive some orders that cleared up any confusion on
his own part.
"Before we start thinking sabotage, investigate all possibilities, no
matter how bizarre," Cade ordered with a tone that belied his own
beliefs. His mind was made up that the array had been tampered with.
With a nod DeZusa turned to his men and gave them new tasks. "Zatok and
Teresa, can you check the power logs to see if there was a spike?
Goodspeed, I want you to check the secondary couplings for traces of a
burn." They all acknowledged the orders. William himself went on to back
trace the burn, looking for other weak spots.
Cade took a few steps away from where Delta was hard at work and studied
the surroundings again. "All teams, go ThreatCon Baker. Able Team dig in
the heavies. Bravo, prep the perimeter. Charlie, break out the scanning
equipment. I want a deep search on the surrounding area. Move it with a
purpose, people."
Listening to the exchange, Mulder had moved closer to Vaughan. "You're
expecting trouble?"
He glanced at his CO, glad that she couldn't see his face behind the
opaque shield of his helmet. "Gut feeling," he said softly as he looked
over to where Gideon's team was excavating two gun pits with sonic
shovels and then passed them to where Bravo had split up into pairs and
was placing plasma mines.
She let out a soft breath and instinctively looked around, although there
was nothing to see except the marines, moving with added urgency. Her own
street-smarts were of little use here, she knew full well. Thinking back
to a recent conversation she'd had about her abilities with the Ops crew,
she knew she was a warrior of crowded places and visual senses, the
slightest signals she could see being transferred subconsciously into
warnings.
Here, where even familiar body language was masked and muffled by the
cumbersome suits, she had nothing to go on. But she trusted Vaughan's
instincts every bit as much as she trusted her own. If he thought there
was reason to be wary, then it was so. Simple as that. "I'll best get
back to the shuttle then."
He turned to face her. "Yeah, get the Knightmare warmed up in case we
have to hot extract, Captain."
At Alpha's position, Canowicakte stood watch over his two diggers,
holding the massive machine-phaser at his hip like an actor in a bad
action movie. Normally, the weapon was too heavy to hold like that for
long, but the reduced gravity turned the crew-served phaser into a
shoulder weapon. "Done, Master Guns!" He glanced down to where the firing
positions had been made to a depth of three feet. Not perfect, but they'd
do in a pinch. He handed the weapon down and tapped his glove. "Alpha
Leader to Omega. Weapons emplacements are ready. ROE?"
Cade thought for a moment. The Rules of Engagement that he set would also
set the tone for all the Marines. "Weapons free," he announced and
noticed a slight hiccup in the pattern of work of a couple of his younger
troopers. Well, they should get used to rapid combat preparation sooner
rather than later, anyway.
Angel had started moving almost before Vaughan had given the order for
Charlie Team to start scanning. With her team hard on her footsteps
they'd reached the pile of equipment and started retrieving various
scanning devices.
"Tennant, at 3 o'clock, Pertwee, Six, Ecclestone nine. I'll take twelve.
Start moving." They all three activated and moved slowly outwards, eyes
fixed on the readouts, scanning everything within their perimeter slowly
and thoroughly.
Angel was calm as ever, but a spark of anticipation was growing inside
her. repairs were humdrum work. This was *real* marine work - the
unexpected. She hoped, deep down, that they would find something.
Mulder had immediately moved back to the Knightmare and started up the
engines. In a way she felt distinctly irritated that her freedom and day
trip should be curtailed like this. ~It's never easy, is it? Even the
most innocuous job can end in danger out here~
But she knew, also, that she wasn't feeling as surprised as she ought to.
Maybe it was all these years of being around Vaughan. Or maybe it was a
subconscious wish for action, no matter how much she said she longed for
the quiet life.
She went through the checks swiftly but methodically, and powered the
engines to a gentle turning over. At this level she could lift off
immediately, or swing around and use the big solid runabaout as an
impromptu weapon.
Then she did gently lift off, merely a few inches, and slowly span the
ship so that it's opening was no longer facing the main arena of work. If
a retreat was needed, then it would still make for easy access, but would
also give cover. She studied her own sensors, but could see nothing in
space. Nothing at all. Which in it's own way gave her a prickle of
unease.
The Knightmare was not a vessel built for subtlety. It had shields as
thick as any Galaxy-class, and blasters that could smash asteroids - as
that had been it's original function - but the sensors were designed to
pick up immediate huge chucks of space rock, not tuned for delicate
scanning. So, she waited, making sure her phaser was to hand.
Mother Teresa reported anomalies in the logs that could be a sign of
tampering. At that William only nodded. Hitting the intercom he relayed
the discovery to Vaughn, who seemed less than surprised at this stage.
"Zatok and Teresa, get all the diagnostics equipment back to the
Knightmare. Everything we don't need for the repair. Goodspeed, tell me
what you've got when you're ready, then help me to repair this."
Out under the harsh lighting of the repair arena, Angel kept moving
although she imperceptibly slowed her pace as something flickered to life
on her screen. Carefully she called, "Anything?" to her team.
The answers were all in the negative, but Angel knew that she had found
something herself. Her pale blue eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on
the direction the readings were coming from. There was a rock formation
some three kilometers away, and she was now definitely picking up strange
heat signatures. This should have been impossible - there was no warmth,
no natural indigenous life on the barren oxygen-free surface. And yet...
"Major," she called sharply but quietly. "I have something." She didn't
stop moving, as every instinct told her she might be watched. "Sending
the readings to you now. Heat signatures. Sir, I believe they are life
forms - human..oid." She couldn't commit herself more than that. "If I'm
deducting right, then they are cloaked in some way, but not quite well
enough. I think we have company."
DeZusa and his team heard the call over the comm. William turned to his
soldiers and gave a nod, which was enough of a signal for them to get
their weapons ready and take position around him. The repair was what
they were there for, and they intended to cover him if needed until he
could finish it.
Cade reached up and slid the field glasses down from the top of his
helmet to rest on the visor and keyed it for maximum magnification. Using
the telemetry link, Frost's readings were superimposed on the inside of
his visor. There they were. "I make out a squad-sized force."
"Concur, skipper," came the voice of Canowicakte.
"Master Guns, send them a shot across their nose. Let's see what their
intentions are."
"Aye, aye, Major." Gideon turned to his gun crews and ordered them to
make minor corrections on their aiming. "Crews ready."
"Fire when ready, Master Guns."
The micro-torpedo launcher fired first, sending out a starburst of four
shells from it's rotary barrels. The plasma cannon fired next with a shot
that hug the ground and left a glassy trail in it's wake. The torpedoes
detonated short of the massif, erupting in a dazzling display of light.
Without atmosphere, there was no concussive force, but the heat from the
explosions cracked the rocks used to the deep cold of space. The plasma
round splashed into the base of the rock, briefly liquifying everything
that it touched until it's energy was expended.
Cade grinned as he pushed the field glasses up and turned to look at the
gun crews. "Christ almighty, Top, I said across their nose, not up it."
"Semantics, skipper." Gideon glanced down to the gun pits on either side
of him. "Crews ready for second volley."
"Standby." Cade was all business again and studied what he saw as the
enemy position. "Frost, any reaction?"
"No sir," Angel's voice was puzzled. "And that's not right, I'd have
thought - " she got no further as the sound started. They all heard it.
The rumbling started from deep within the planetoid's rocky crust. The
vibrations transmitted their way up through the rock and sand and into
the soles of the exo-suits. Cade brought his rifle up and scanned the
area. There. A small dimple in the surface that wasn't there five minutes
ago. He hugged the rifle into his shoulder . "Marines........"
He didn't get a chance to finish the order as the dimple turned into a
massive pit, sucking down loose debris and sand into it's depths. The
vibrations stopped for a moment, only to be replaced by a massive volley
of phaser fire as enemy infantry stormed up out of the hole.
"Cunning sonsa - " Chris Ecclestone dropped to the ground, taking aim.
"Stay tight," Angel warned unnecessarily as she dropped to one knee.
"Target our section, fire at will."
"Jolly unsporting of them," the laid-back Pertwee muttered.
"Ah, it's not a biggie," the irrepressible Tennant chirped in. "After
shooting a T-Rex, this is a cake-walk."
Angel said nothing, her efforts focussed and concentrating completely on
the battle in hand. The enemy were swarming out of their hideout like
killer ants. Her phaser rifle spat lancing beams of death towards them.
Goodspeed winced at the number of enemies coming at them. He was about to
fire a volley into the nearest couple, but stopped himself as Mother
moved in front of him. "Mother! Move!" he yelled at her, annoyed at the
fact that he had almost shot a comrade.
DeZusa glanced in their direction as he heard the communication, but
quickly turned back to his repairs with renewed focus as he realised how
little time they had.
Teresa saw her mistake and quickly rolled out of the way, but they had
lost valuable seconds. The first enemy fire was generally towards
William, as he was doing the repairs, and Zatok was just in time to lift
a panel up as a shield to protect him. At the same time both Goodspeed
and Teresa were firing with full auto into the enemy bunch.
Cade dropped to a knee and took his place in the line. In close fighting,
he was more valuable as an extra rifle than as a tactician. And he
trusted Mulder to be the eye in the sky to watch the big picture. He
sited carefully before pulling the trigger; the burst of compressed
phaser fire doubled over the attacker and propelled the armored soldier
back into the artificial cavern.
* * * * * Mulder had done a little double-take as the enemy appeared.
Being slightly off the ground, she'd missed the vibrations at first, and
now swung the ship around 360 degrees, trying to establish that there
were no more coming from the rear.
She knew how vital it was to keep the ship intact and uncaptured, and
wondered what she would do, in the enemy's position.
At an angle away from the main assault, she looked out of the main
viewscreen, and saw nothing.
But....even in nothing, there is something.
She knew *how* a combatant moves, and her brain was seeing what her eyes
could not distinguish.
There were patches of nothingness that were more than nothing, and less
than nothing at the same time. And she knew...
Checking the firing mechanisms, it was with grim amusement that she
realised she'd never fired the clunky meteor-blaster controls. The fact
that it had been ore-owned by rich-kid boy racers from an unremembered
species maybe accounted for the description of the firing strengths.
Large. Extra-large. Who's the Daddy.
"Let's give it some large," she muttered, stabbing the control.
A blast of fireball escaped in a 'whumph' from the front, and she could
see but not hear the screams as the still-cloaked assault team were
engulfed in flames, their shieldings down, their space-suits ripped open,
the oxygen snuffed out along with their lives. She gave it large again,
and knew that was enough.
Whilst she'd been concentrating on that, she'd come lower until she was
only a few inches off the ground, and behind her, there was still
nothing.
But the hairs on the back of her neck rose.
Setting the controls to hold, she grabbed two phasers and spun round in
her seat, twisting and standing upright, firing with both hands.
As the guns spat out their message, she tried to take cover from the
returning fire that came out of nothingness. Even a small hit could prove
fatal if it ripped her space-suit, and then she would have failed the
whole lot of them.
She heard more cries and saw bodies fall in the unerring hail of fire,
and swinging back she dropped her weapons crossways into her lap and
lifted the ship higher off the ground. Preserve the getaway vehicle at
all costs.
Checked the scanners, nothing else incoming. Swing the ship higher, keep
low enough to pick up the injured, if possible. Allow for retreat if
needed. Lend a helping hand with firing.
The Knightmare tilted upwards and she aimed again. "Extra large"
Twin fireballs shot out this time, and into a cluster of the swarming
enemy. She could see fragments of green skin amongst the floating biodebris that started to stick to the windscreen.
This wasn't her territory, and she had already unconsciously allowed
Vaughan to take the lead in deciding when to stay and when to retreat.
For now, she was cover, and a second pair of eyes. She trusted him, in
his own territory.
The Knightmare banked again and came in low. More green skinned enemy
died.
* * * * *
Teresa and Goodspeed had joined the line, whilst Zatok was staying close
to their Sergeant. "Sarge, we need to take cover!" he yelled over the
intercom as another disruptor blast hit the panel that he used for
shielding. It wouldn't take much more.
"I know." William said, sounding every bit as calm as an ice cube. The
only reason he could manage to sound that collected was of course that
every bit of his mind was focussed either on the repair or the repeating
mantra "shit, shit, shit, we're all gonna die," leaving no space for
handling a conversation.
They kept coming. There were more soldiers rushing them than would be
normal for an isolated pirate base. The part of Cade's mind that was
still thinking about revenge revelled in the fact that this must be a
fairly important installation for the cartel. He fired again and again
into the cavern's maw, keeping the Orions at bay while Gideon redirected
his heavy weapon section.
The ready light flickered on the HUD on the inside of his helmet. "DOWN!"
All of the troopers on either side of him dropped to prone firing
positions. He noticed with pride that his veterans kept up their fire
during the position change. As soon as everyone was out of the direct
path of the heavies, Canowicakte gave the order to fire. Microtorpedoes
flashed barely a meter over the heads of the infantry.
It was almost amusing to watch as the AI systems kicked in on the 25th
Century smart-weapons. As they reached the opening, the warheads
playfully spun and dropped down to follow the contour of the floor. All
firing paused for a second and there was a collective holding of the
Marines' breath while they waited for a detonation.
When it came, it shook them all. Cade and a couple of others that were
close to the cave entrance bounced off the ground a few centimeters.
There was another long pause while they all waited to see what the Orions
did. Cade rolled onto his back and looked around. "Teams Report."
"Able all present and ready for action," Gideon immediately replied.
"Bravo all present and ready for action. One minor wound," Sergeant Cash
reported.
"Charlie all present and prepped for action, sir," Angel's voice came
swiftly back. "No casualties."
The repair had just been finished, and the explosions gave DeZusa and
Zatok the breathing time they needed to get themselves into the line with
the rest of Delta. William looked over his team, counting the nods he
received. "Delta all present and ready for action," he reported smartly,
taking his own rifle off his back and seeing that it had taken a hit that
would have burnt his spine had he been less fortunate. That hit had
resulted in making the weapon useless, however.
Goodspeed heard his muted swearing over the comm and handed him his own
backup weapon. William drew his own backup and looked at the soldier
questioningly. Goodspeed shrugged. "Two phasers are better than one,
right?"
"Your cab's arrived and the meter is running," Mulder's laconic voice
came over the comm.
"Good to hear." Cade checked to either side of him quickly and added to
the count, "Omega all present and ready for action." For the benefit of
the combat recorder in his helmet, he added, "Estimated enemy strength as
a reinforced platoon formation."
He got to his feet and scanned the area again. "Frost, start running the
scans again. DeZusa, pack your shit. All teams prep for dust off."
"Got it." DeZusa answered quickly. The array would soon be destroyed
after they left, which was a bit annoying, but that also meant the Major
had decided it was expendable. "Goodspeed, Teresa, the generator." he
said, knowing that they would know what he meant. "Zatok, the repair
equipment. I'll take scanners." He also intended to take two modules from
the Array that would only take a few seconds each to release, and were
small enough to throw in one of the scanner cases.
"But sir," Angel, irritating as always, felt she had to be voice of
correctness. "What about the relay? We've only just fixed it. Suppose
they damage it as soon as we're gone?"
"Oh crap," Mulder muttered in his other ear. "I really *really* don't
want hassle from the DTI..."
Cade glanced up at the hovering shuttle. "DTI relay or not, my intention
is to break to orbit and then nuke this sunofabitching rock until it
screams for mercy."
Despite his intentions, the rumbling started again. This time, it was
much shorter and hole formed directly under Cade. One second he was
staring at a gray, pocked landscape and the next he was floating backward
and downward in a shaft.
Mulder was more attuned to the situation by now, and she sensed, rather
than felt the rumbling. About to spin the shuttle back, she watched in
horror as the ground started to open up, almost in slow motion.
Looking back, she couldn't remember consciously doing anything, but some
part of her former training kicked in as she span the shuttle
automatically, diving it down, other hand reaching for the tractor beam
and locking on.
She caught Vaughan in mid-air, and jerked the shuttle upright again,
pulling him out of the chasm with nothing more than a sharp exhalation of
relief.
"I've got a 'who's the daddy' blaster I've not used in a former meteorsmashing shuttle and an itchy trigger finger," she told him sharply. "Are
you going to recall the troops so I can play with my new toy or not?"
Cade was about to give a sharp retort when a close blast rocked the
shuttle, sending him skittering back towards the ramp. "Sunuva.........,"
was all that was heard as he went over the edge. The light gravity was
still enough to pull him down and he crashed back into the surface.
"Thank you for flying Mulder Airways," came her sardonic mutter over his
headpiece, but the tone couldn't quite disguise the relief she felt.
"Please fasten your seat belts."
"Triple damned....." He stood up and started to dust himself off before
remembering where he was. The Marines were redoubling their fire at the
newest breach that was big enough to fly a frigate through. Instead of a
frigate, though, a pair of small Orion raiders screamed out and didn't
stick around for the fight.
Caught almost unawares, Mulder fired a few shots at their retreating
paths, and although she winged one, they both got away, much to her
annoyance. "Looks like we're just too much for them to handle," she said,
puzzled at the quick capitulation.
Now, Cade did dust off his suit and walked toward the edge of the
precipice. He looked down when it was apparent that there was no more
enemy fire coming from it. Gideon joined him and glanced down. "Why do I
think that was too easy?"
Cade looked around quickly. "CAPTAIN! GET THAT SHUTTLE DOWN HERE!"
"ON IT ALREADY!" She reacted instinctively, almost nosediving the
Knightmare back to the surface, barely touching down. "GO!"
"EVERYONE EVAC NOW, NOW, NOW!"
Angel's head snapped round as she and her team were peering into the
abyss, similarly wondering where their enemy had retreated to. "You heard
the man," she snapped. "Move it!"
They didn't need telling twice. Grabbing any spare bits of equipment that
were within arm's reach, they piled towards the ramp and charged up it,
moving as quickly as physically possible to clear the space for the
others pounding after them.
Cade pushed the last few towards the loading ramp and grabbed a couple of
DeZusa's cases, heaving them through the non-atmosphere to the Staff
Sergeant. As soon as he had one foot on the ramp, he turned the comm
channel to Mulder back on. "GO! Get this bird out of here!"
"You got it," she didn't look round, satisfied that Vaughan had the
troops aboard. She was no longer the Captain, she was a pilot again, and
this was her job now, get away and get away quick - although she wasn't
sure why the mad urgency, she didn't question it. "Hold on tight," she
lifted the Knightmare clear of the planetoid's surface and swung the
strong little ship towards the heading for home. There was some pull as
they forced up through the disturbed gravitational drag, but the ship was
strong and her piloting steady. "We're through.." now she could take a
look around for Vaughan.
He slipped through the crowd of his troopers that were still trying to
find places to sit or stand and reached the cockpit. Cade crashed down on
the flight engineer's seat behind Mulder. "When was the last time you
ever heard of Orions abandoning a base at the first sign of trouble?" He
took a pause to catch his breath. "A base like that represents a huge
capital investment for them. They wouldn't just bug out unless there was
a good reason for it."
"Yeah, I was wondering.." Mulder checked her instruments. She took off
her helmet, now the cabin was re-oxygenated, breathing in the stale but
welcome air."We could have gone in and taken whatever we wanted, their
equipment, their records, and...." she broke off, then finished urgently,
"Unless that's what they wanted us to do. Unless it was a trap..."
Cade spun in the chair. "Sergeant DeZusa! You're next to the viewscreen.
Bring up the aft camera."
Angel tried to push herself to the front as DeZusa was doing so, but was
thwarted by other bodies just as determined to see the final act.
All eyes were riveted on the screen for several seconds before they
detected anything out of the ordinary. It started with a faint glow from
deep within the escape shaft the Orion ships had used. In a flash, the
planetoid split apart, devoured from the inside by rock-consuming fire
that was fed by the last reserves of oxygen from the base.
"Fekking HELL!" Mulder's cry of alarm was only partly triggered by the
sight of the disintegrating planetoid - and more by the shock-wave that
was rolling towards them. "HANG ON! IT'S GOING TO GET BUMPY - " was as
far as she got.
"Bloody hell," Cade murmured as he grabbed for the shoulder restraints on
the seat.
Angel cursed under her breath as she tried to fasten herself in, roughly
swatting away the hands of her team who might have helped her. Stubborn
pride resulted in several more bruises than she needed to have.
Canowicakte smiled serenely and calmly grabbed onto one of the overhead
hand-holds, ignoring the chaos of Marines scrambling around him. With his
free hand, he pulled a pack of smokes from a cargo pocket and popped one
in his mouth.
The shockwave engulfed the ship, tossing it as effortlessly as a bottle
in a raging ocean. Mulder slammed up the shields. "Don't worry," she
called back. "This used to be an asteroid racer. Strongest shields this
side of a Galaxy-class. At least that's what they said when they sold
it..."
Cade, not quite quick enough with the restraints, slammed forward into
the bulkhead, his face narrowly missing a storage compartment. "Believe
everything you're told, do you, Captain?"
Mulder fought her instinct to push through the shockwave, and
concentrated on rolling with it to minimise the stress on the hull. The
inertial dampeners were holding - but weren't top quality. She could hear
thuds and crashes coming from behind her.
Sensors were almost indistinguishable as huge chunks of rock smashed into
the shields, slamming them every which way, sparks flying as the shields
held and fought back.
Mulder blinked through the sweat that was beading down her forehead and
into her eyes, but her concentration never wavered. She was piloting on
manual, and let her senses guide her through the tumbles, dodging and
weaving through the worst of the debris, knowing when to roll and when to
fly face-on.
After one final cresting and plummet, she did a final check and said
quietly and calmly, "Now, I think it's time to let this baby do the job
she was built for, and see.. who's the daddy.." she hit the forward
blaster. A searing jet of flame and compressed air shot out, engulfing
the debris and smashing it into a million small pieces. Again and again
she fired, steering the ship according to her natural instincts.
Three long minutes later came the most welcome sight in the world clear, free space, far away from the epicentre of the blast, marked by
just a few lazy swirls of tiny rocks. The only change in her posture was
a slight relaxing of her shoulders. Tendrils of hair had escaped from her
neat plait and were plastered in damp strands to her neck. Without
looking round at Cade she said with a tiny smile, "Clear skies, skipper."
"Everyone still in one piece?" Cade dusted himself and plopped back down
into the chair as a chorus of "Yessirs" and "Aye-ayes" responded. "I do
believe that you're the senior officer in this boat, Captain Mulder. As
such, I should be calling you, Skipper."
"Mm? I'm just the pilot right now. This is - *was* - your mission." She
tilted her head, "Although, maybe not a proper pilot since I don't have a
poncey call-sign. And I'm not looking for one, either," she warned with a
dark chuckle.
"How 'bout 'Slow Ride' for a call-sign," Gideon mumbled from around the
cigarette that he managed to light during the roller-coaster ride. He
stared hard at a couple of the Marines near him that started to chuckle.
"What? I like that song, dipshit."
Cade chuckled and leaned his head back into the seat. "I think you just
got tagged, Captain."
"Hmm.... she gave a dubious little murmur and shot the totally
unrepentant Canowicakte a reproving look which lacked any measure of
severity whatsoever. "Now I'll have to kill myself. Damn. Anyway, I
reckon it's time I got you folks home, yeah?"
"Steady as she goes, Slow Ride," he replied with a wink towards his First
Sergeant and then closed his eyes.
Mulder gave him an arch look, struggling to hide the grin that was
forming. "After all that's happened today and you *still* have a death
wish?"
Cade didn't hear the response as he was already fast asleep.
Mulder smiled quietly to herself.
=^= Security =^=
Baxter Mattingly was snoring. He'd had a big lunch and he'd gone back to
his desk afterward to have a look at the reports that were piling up. His
eyes had gotten heavy and his head had just happened to rest back on his
chair. Then he was out like a light. It was all that work trying to make
a family .... he was smiling.
"Baxter!" a familiar voice shouted to him. "Get up and see if the baby's
wet."
Baxter grumbled and crawled out of bed, bare-chested, wearing only pajama
bottoms, he staggered toward the three cradles. "Which one Yus?" he
asked.
"All of them," she replied.
The triplets were sleeping in a row. The one in the middle was wailing.
"It's you," he said, picking her up and taking her over to the changing
table. That simple move was a signal for the others. A new wail was heard
from.
"Yus," Baxter said. "You can't be sleeping."
"I can too," she said.
"It's Wisteria. She's awake now," he said.
"You have Wisteria," Yus said, begrudingly getting out of bed. "That's
Cadbury."
"No, he's still asleep," Baxter stated. "I know my son's wail. It's more
masculine."
"Oh bother," Yus said. "Then it has to be Piston. She's louder than the
rest."
Yus reached the cradles and snatched both of the remaining children into
her arms.
"Wet, every single one wet," she said.
"Yes, but isn't it lovely?" he asked.
Passing the dry baby to her and taking a wet one.
"No," she said. "I should never have agreed to your little scheme to have
a family. One little baby you said in the holodeck. Just one. You know it
sounded rather nice then."
Baxter grinned. "It was certainly fun planning," he stated.
"Humph," she replied, as she passed the final wet child to him. "It was
fun, I admit it. Then there was labor."
"I'm innocent," Baxter said.
"You are not," Yus replied, "but I love you anyway."
There was a muffled woof at their feet as a tired-looking MacDougal
plopped down at the foot of the cradles. Behind him Nameless and 15
puppies wandered into the room. Nameless looked amazingly vibrant.
Everyone looked at her and groaned.
"I don't see how she does it," Baxter said.
The couple placed the babies in the cradles and gently rocked them to
sleep. Nameless got a snack and then herded her family, MacDougal
included, back to bed.
Left alone, Baxter placed an arm around his wife. "This is the best
evening of my life ..."
She leaned against him.
Baxter's head shot up as someone came into the office. The Klingon left a
report and went out. Sleepy still, Baxter was grinning. That was a very,
very, good dream. He wanted more. It felt so good.
He picked up a report, looked at it and decided to go see Yus. He
wouldn't say anything about the dream, but maybe she'd up for a quickie
in her closet.
He hummed his way down the hall.
=/\= SB BoB - Mulder's Quarters =/\=
The shower spray hissed as it sent out streams of warm water. Mulder
tilted her head back so it trickled over her face, smoothing back her
long dark hair.
She'd worked well into the night after they'd arrived back from the Orion
encounter on the Planetoid - checking over the Knightmare, doing minor
adjustments and repairs - although the sturdy little runabout was
surprisingly sound still. Or just as battered as it had been before,
whichever was more accurate.
Exhausted, she'd fallen into a deep dreamless sleep, only jolted awale by
the sound of the alarm.
She reflected as she dried herself off, firstly on the situation they'd
encountered and secondly on the fact that she hadn't dreamt at all that
night. The latter gave her feelings of vague longing, the former definate
feelings of unease.
-= Command Centre ="Morrie, what's the matter with you? You look as if you're in a trance,"
Lupha complained after she'd asked the crewman for a diagnostic for the
third time.
"What? Oh, yeah, right, sorry Luph," Morrie flushed slightly as he turned
his attention to his work.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," he shurugged. "Just wished I could have a little sleep, is
all."
Lupha looked at him as if he was nuts. "If you're not getting enough
sleep maybe you ought to see the doctor."
Now it was Morrie's turn to score, "How about you? Seen the doctor
recently?"
"Don;t you be cheeky," Lupha poked him in the ribs. "Hey, look out,
Captain on deck. Look lively."
"Uh-huh," Morrie sighed. "I can't wait for shift to end. I'm going to
crawl into bed," a smile spread over his face.
"A young thing like you?" Lupha laughed. "I'm nearly old enough to be
your mother, and *I'm* going out tonight. A mate of mine in engineering
has got a new ice skating holodeck programme we're going to try out. Not
that either of us have ever skated before. We're going to have a few
cocktails at Pigs afterwards - I reckon we'll need them by then."
Morrie looked at her curiously, "Don't you ever wish that - "
"Good morning," Mulder's voice cut across whatever he was going to say.
"Morning' Captain," Lupha smiled. "I understand you had a rocky ride with
the marines?"
"Not half. It was mad," Mulder shook her head. "One minute we were just
doing some repairs to a DTI array, next minute all hell broke loose and
Orions were everywhere. I swear, you can't go anywhere around here with
trouble."
"But everyone was okay?"
"As far as I'm aware, yes. Doubtless a few bumps and bruises," Mulder
chuckled, "But other than that - at least, I think so. Everyone was too
wiped out afterwards to sort much out on the way back. I just dropped the
boys off and saw to my ship."
"But the array got destroyed?" Lupha asked.
"Yeah. Completely. Oh hell, I'll have to tell the DTI at some point," she
pulled a face.
"Ouch," Lupha was sympathetic. "Bet they won't like that."
"Serve them right for building arrays where any Tom Dick or Orion can get
at them," Mulder said blithely. "Now, what's new today?"
"Ha, where do you want to start?" Lupha picked up a pile of Padds. "These
are the reports for the last twenty-four hours. For some reason people
leave them here. But, there's plenty more in your office, I expect."
"Oh joy," Mulder groaned.
"We could always swap places - no, only joking," Lupha finished hastily.
"I was an Ensign once," Mulder said apropos of nothing. "It was good. No
responsibilities. Just being a pain in the neck to command officers."
"Now you're going to be a pain in the neck to DTI officers."
"Ohhhh did you *have* to remind me?"
* * * * *
The rest of the morning passed quickly enough. Mulder caught up on
reports, and managed to convince herself that calling the DTI wasn't
*that* urgent. Lupha finished her work and wondered what to wear for her
ice-skating evening. Morrie thought back to the dream he'd had the night
before. It had been so real, it was worth going to bed early that night,
just to see if it happened again.
He did consider telling Lupha, but decided against it. He knew it would
just sound silly. Besides, it was his secret.
=^= Infirmary =^=
The lieutenant Junior was finishing some report about a bruise he had to
treat earlier. His dream came back into his mind, he try to focus on the
scene in the den, the one with the children and Mulder. He could feel his
hearth pumping faster, he never experience a dream so real, so wonderful.
He got up and walk back into a empty room for patient, well actually it
was is sanctum in the infirmary. He knew nobody would disturb him their
except in case of emergency. He got on the biobed and try to close his
eyes. He try to fall asleep again. He could feel himself going slowly,
going back to his he dream life...
He was in front of what seem to ba a vineyard, he back hurt from being
bent so much, as he got up he heard a voice.
"Having trouble old man" Said a younger voice.
As he turn he saw a twenty something man in from of him, he reconise him
as being the older version of his son in the previous dream. "Not that
old that I can't take you on, little man"
The younger man started to laugh " Well we know for a fact that the
Bonnenfant gene make us stronger and Mom gene make us smarter"
"He smile at his son, he got closer at took him in his arm " How about a
beer young man"
"Good idea!" as he walk beside his father.
The walk along majestic trail to come back to the same house he saw
previously, but now flowers and other beautiful trees were in full bloom.
"I love your roses this year, they're exeptional" said the son to the
father
"Roses are like women, you have to give them the attention they deserve
but also know when to make them wait." he smile
"Is that how you got mom" He ask curious to hear the story again.
"She was different, like making a rose bloom in the desert, like getting
close to a sun without being burn" he still remember Snookums analogy.
They got up the stairs and as the open the door a little girl scream "
Papou!!" as he rush toward him.
François smile " How are you Krisst'in" The name was choosen so it
reflected the Jaz'Aarian and the human culture. He was so proud to be a
grand father.
Caz was sitting with a lemonade in front of her and a child story book.
His son wife sitting near her. He walk toward his daugther in law " How's
my favorite Daugther in law" A joke he said everytime.
Caz look at them " You're not tired to say the same old joke" as she
smile at him. "I'm also getting old, dear, but you look always as young
as the time at BoB" he wink.
"Stop trying to be the french gentleman I know you too well now for that
to work" said Mulder.
"Yes admiral" he smirk.
He sat down and the little girl rush to his knees, the pain was almost
welcome, to see her reading her book and be so close to him. That's when
it happen he body felt pain all over. His eyes open to see the floor up
close. He had fell of the biobed. The dream was over, but was it a dream
or a vision? He was confuse now, he was now wishing that his futur could
be as nice as his dream...
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue, Earth. Some time soon -=She felt like death warmed up as she lumbered up the stairs. Arihana felt
sick, as though her gut was on a spin cycle. This would the last time
Dhillon cooked. That or the plonk was off. That was actually starting to
bug her; she’d never been much of a drinker. Perhaps this was her body
telling her to stop and grow up. That there was more to life than downing
a half a bottle every now and again.
“You know, if I have food poisoning,” slowly she lumbered into bed. “I’m
blaming you,” Arihana muttered sinking into the covers.
“Goodnight, missis, sleep tight,” Dhillon was not going to argue. He had
made the effort and that was enough to float his boat.
So he slept, or tried to, for a couple of hours. Was a bit difficult when
she wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Fed up, Dhillon sat up.
“Will you stop fidgeting, woman,” he poked a shoulder, hoping she would.
“I’m trying to sleep.” Dhillon braced himself for something
argumentative. “Hello, if I’m awake...talking to you...”
Still nothing. As though she couldn’t hear him.
“You finally asleep?” Dhillon frowned, now fairly awake himself. “All
right for some, but not fair,” he grumbled to sink back down, sliding
closer. Only something wasn’t right.
Something definitely wasn’t right. She was cold. Very cold.
“Arihana?”Dhillon muffled into a shoulder, bringing his hand up from
under the covers. “Bloody Nora...”he blinked to look at his hand, was
about right as he flung the covers back. Blood. Lots of it.
“Don’t panic, don’t panic,” He was. Panicking. Panicking as he leapt out
to hot foot it out to around the other side. There were smudges of red
streaked on his legs “Wake up will you,” Dhillon could feel his heart
race, pulling back the covers to flip Arihana over. Her heart was still
beating, he found that much in checking her pulse. She was cold and
clammy, and losing a lot of blood.
“This is not funny, woman, wake up,” He was confused as the chaos running
through his head. No idea why she would be lying there lifeless. “Help,
paramedics, anything...”Letting go of her hand so that it lolled off the
edge of the bed lifeless, he tripped over his feet towards the console in
the corner. Hitting the blue button, he waited for the emergency channel
to open. “I need help, this is an emergency. Medical Transport from 37
Acacia Avenue, Central Birmingham.”
“Male or female, age, past medical conditions?” a voice chimed.
“Female. Twenty nine, resolved history of substance abuse” Dhillon
replied looking over his shoulder.
“Present state?”
“Bleeding, out cold...blood...lots of blood...”he choked out.
“We setting the co-ordinates. Dharma residence?”
“Yeah, hurry,” he nodded to return back. Still she was out cloud. There
were beads of sweat across her forehead. “You’re gonna be fine. Dodgy
curry, that’s all. Nothing major,” he stammered shaking as he sat her up
to hold her.
Was a matter of moments, as the crew appeared. Dhillon ran his hands
through his hair, getting himself dressed. Then, he had to wake Suraj.
“Daddy, what happening,” Suraj grizzled as he was hoiked out of his bed.
“Dunno, Son, but it aint pretty,” Dhillon hushed his son letting the
medics tend to what was left of his ex-wife.
“Dharma, Arihana. Twenty nine.” The medic stated to a colleague. “Appears
to be uterine haemorrhaging. Pulse is slow, and breathing shallow. Let’s
get her out of here.”
-=- Queen Elizabeth II Hospital, Birmingham -=Dhillon was just staring at the wall. Not wanting to blink. Suraj was
across his lap, sleeping, unaware of the exact nature of what was going
on. Looking up, he saw the clock ticking. Three hours she’d been in
there. His hands were shaking as he sipped the acrid tar that was
hospital coffee. It made him feel worse, not better. It had all been so
quick. Amid the chaos and confusion, he had told them what he could.
He would never cook again, that was all could think about. If this was
what it did to her, he would stay well away from the kitchen.
In operating theatre seven, there was the steady noise of emergency
surgery. “Now that is a botched job if I ever saw one,” the surgeon
glanced on screen as the tissues scars came on screen, magnified a couple
of hundred types. “Swabs and suction, there is far too much blood here.
Anything in her notes about a termination, this is about a year old.”
“Can’t see anything, Mister Fairbrass,” a nurse replied. “Notes from the
Starfleet place, trying to decipher them.”
“Very well, keep at it...now let’s see...ruptured fallopian tube, suction
please,” he raised his hands at the work area was cleared. “Kidney dish,
please, the ovary is not viable in this environment. What a waste,” he
stated, “Scalpel,” a gloved hand extended out.
Slowly he proceeded to loosen the ovary from the muscle and tissue.
“Always such a shame to interfere with Mother Nature,” he blinked to
hydrate his dry eyes, passing his third lid over the yellow iris.
“Are we preserving this?” the assisting asked as the organic matter
thudded into the metallic dish. “There is nothing in the notes about
reproductive preservations. Do we hold on, or send it down to histology
for analysis?”
“Stick it into nitrogen for the moment,
malformed embryo, suction,” the scalpel
decision once we get her out of here. I
Appalling post operative care. Anything
of asking?” Fairbrass looked up again.
there is a lot of debris from the
was handed over. “That is her
really don’t like those scars.
in her notes, for the second time
“Just interventions for dislocated knees and ligaments, cat scratches, a
physical by the medic on the installation. Nothing about a termination,
though, private procedure perhaps?” the nurse twittered.
“Private and no doubt illegal,” Fairbrass tutted. “Last time I checked,
military personnel do not fall pregnant, and have abortions, but we shall
not judge. More suction, please, and enhance the plasma infusion for more
o neg. I will not have my patient run dry like the Elan Valley.”
“Do we need to tell her partner, Mister Fairbrass? He wants to know
what’s keeping her,” the nurse stated coming off a comm. call.
“Yes, but I shall do it personally,” Fairbrass passed a laser across the
tip of the womb to nick off the remnants of the imploded fallopian tube.
“These colonials don’t take too kindly to be treating like the lumpen
preliterate,” a trite comment as his patient had arrived here like Joe
public. “That should do that bit....”
There was an erratic beeping that shattered the sound of Ella Fitzgerald.
The o2 compressors gave a hiss of struggle.
“Her pressures dropping, we have a bleed. Haemoscan,” Fairbrass took the
probes to assess the damage. “The uterine artery, scars have ruptured.
Oh, it gets better....”
“She’s open already, full scale hysterectomy?” a junior registrar chimed,
this would be his first on the gynae rotation.
“Yes, but this is not a smash and grab, young Cuthbert the ninth,”
Fairbrass twitched his nose as his brow was mopped. “She’s young, and
able. Has her whole life ahead of her, not to mention a live in lover and
a nice bank balance. We take it out, and replace it. We swear an oath to
preserve capability and ability. So we will. That and her cheque is not
likely to bounce.”
***
Another three hours later, Cornel Fairbrass sighed a deep sigh of relief.
Exiting the operating theatre, he put his half moon glasses to the bridge
of his scaly nose as his tail swished side to side behind him as it poked
out of his scrubs.
“Well, what happened?” Dhillon slowly slithered Suraj across the seat and
stood up.
“Mister Havane, I presume, the governor’s partner?” Fairbrass arched a
brow to make sure.
“Yes, no, kinda,” Dhillon rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m the only one of her
harem that’s here, if that’s what you mean.”
“Not a problem,” fairbrass replied back in something of a reassuring
tone, “let is walk a moment, wouldn’t want to disturb the young sir,” he
led Dhillon away slighty, “There will be a nurse a long shortly. Come
with me, and we shall go down to post operative care.”
There was visible change in the corridors, as they moved from the public
section of post operative care towards the private and paid for.
“An ectopic pregnancy, Mister Havane,” fairbrass twittered, “has been the
cause of all this hullabaloo. I doubt very much the governor would have
been aware, we did find that her internal mechanisms were in something of
a state...”
“Abortion, last year,” Dhillon replied elliptically almost, his gaze
fixed on Arihana the other side of the glass.
“Would make an awful lot of sense, wasn’t in her notes,” the surgeon
continued, recounting what had occurred in theatre.
“Isn't it any notes. Can I see her?” Dhillon asked, still very much
bewildered. “Only for a minute,” he gulped, still thinking this was down
to him and his dodgy culinary skills.
“Certainly,” Fairbrass gave a reptilian smile to press the button to the
door. “She’s a bit high, the morphine you see...”he nodded towards the
door to let Dhillon enter.
-=- Queen Elizabeth II Hospital, Birmingham -=Dhillon pulled the chair from next to wall. It made a muted scraping
sound as it was dragged across thick carpet that looked something out of
place. He sat for a moment, just looking. Just trying to make sense of
this whole situation.
“Feuries,” was the almost nonsense language that was coming out from her
mouth as she came around. “I see faeries,” Arihana giggled to remove the
oxygen mask. “There,” she raised a hand slowly to the door. “Lots of
little faeries.”
Dhillon laughed quietly to shake his head. “You really are high aren’t
you. What colour are they?” he asked to stand briefly. “Arihana, what
colours are they?” he had this horrible knot in his gut as he sat on the
edge of her bed.
“Blue, pink,” Arihana smiled, “that one, that one there is green,” she
tried to grab something in her palm.
“They pretty?” Dhillon gulped, trying to remain stoic.
“Very pretty, flying around....”Arihana turned her head to look at him.
“Lot’s of little faeries.”
Dhillon took her hand in his, twirling the bands that she still wore.
“You know, this has nothing to do with me being a bad cook...”
Arihana giggled. “Aww, poor Dhillon, a bad cook always blames the recipe,
well it was your mothers, and I know I can’t stand the woman....”
Dhillon hmphed quietly to himself, bowing his head a little. “I really
need to tell you what happened, why you have ended up here, seeing
faeries.....”
“I feel all giggly,” She couldn’ t help it, she giggled still. “Haven’t
felt like this in years, all light headed and giggly. Great fun.”
“That would be the painkillers. It’s gonna hurt when then down the
dosage,” Dhillon did his best to compose himself. “See, thing is,
something happened. That’s why you were out cold, you lost a lot of blood
and they had you in surgery for hours....”
“Dhil, faeries, all sorts of colours,” Arihana was still in her a world
of her own.
“There was an ectopic pregnancy,” Dhillon choked it out. “They had to
take away the fallopian tube....”
“Pretty faeries, lots of little faeries....”
“Then they saw the scars from the ab-something about an artery and scar
tissue. Artery was caught in the middle of it all, but to cut a long
story short...”
“Dhil, think I could catch one. Just the one, and keep it in a jam jar,”
she smiled and laughed still.
“The artery was re-routed, or so Fairbrass said, had to do a hyster-but
you got a new one.”
Then there was that silence as Dhillon just looked at her. She looked at
him with that look that told him she wanted to be alone.
Arihana exhaled deeply as he left. She hadn’t wanted to hear it. Didn’t
reduce the amount it hurt. So she closed her eyes, and let the tears run
down her face. The morphine could only ever get you so high, and there
was no precedent for seeing faeries. This hurt and would do for a very
long time.
Closing the door, Dhillon watched through the glass. Never again wanting
to have anything to do with curry.
=/\= Promenade, XO's Office =/\=
Cade had taken a page from Mulder's book and installed himself in an
office on the upper level of the Main Promenade. He could count on one
hand the number of times he'd actually used it, but in times like this,
it was useful.
Baxter Mattingly strolled into the office in his usual casual manner, a
far cry from marine stance, a far cry from anything but hobo stealing a
pie from a window stance.
"Hey, Sir!" he said.
Cade smiled wryly and looked up. "Come on in and have a seat." He waited
until Baxter had done so before continuing. "Lieutenant Commander
Mattingly, we are the same rank, effectively, as far as the pay scales
are concerned, but as XO of the station, I'm placed in a supervisory
position over you." He picked up a padd with a distasteful look on his
face. "Which brings us to this. Part of my job is to do everyone's
personnel evaluations, and I figured since no one here has had one done
in about three years, I better get cracking on them."
"There's a reason they haven't been done in three years," Baxter said.
"Things keep trying to kill us and that makes better reading than
personnel files."
He grinned again and pushed the padd across to Baxter. "You just need to
read and initial at the bottom. By initialing, you are not agreeing to
anything that I wrote, just that you are acknowledging receipt of it. And
don't worry, I didn't write anything bad."
"That's not much fun, then Sir," Baxter said. "Why wouldn't you be
tempted to add one of those little tidbit things I do. You know, like the
giant chocolate bar that melted a corner on your desk?"
Cade winked at the other officer. "Because, Baxter, if you get promoted
before me, then you will outrank me outright and then maybe you'll have
to be the XO and I can go back to my Marines full time."
"Ah," Baxter said. "And do you really think I'm that dumb to do something
so noticeable that I would become the XO? Oh, no, marine boss, I have no
craziness in this body. I'm not going to do one thing better than you for
your entire career. Just might as well settle in to this XO stuff."
"In that case," Cade growled, "I'm going to change your evaluation to
'Needs Improvement.'"
"So, what do you suggest I do to improve myself?" Baxter asked. "That is
within my department and not for a rise to greater glorly."
Cade grinned for a moment. "Baxter, you've done wonders with very little
resources. I've never been in Security, so I'm not going to presume to
tell you how to do your job. In my opinion, you're doing a terrific job."
He shrugged. "So, that's out of the way. Anything for me?"
"Got any advice on how to deal with an assistant girlie?" Baxter asked.
"Especially one that gets packages addressed to her from movie stars who
can't get her rank right. She's an admiral today, I think."
The XO furrowed his brow slightly. "I'm probably not the best person to
look for in the advice on women department. My track record with the
female of the species usually involves either bedding them or pissing
them off, and occassionally, both."
"Well, I was thinking, Sir, you have to deal with a captain girlie. How
does that work out?" Baxter asked.
"Not well," he replied sarcastically. He sat back into his chair. "She
does her thing and I do mine and we stay out of each other's way.
Probably won't work with you and Vega, though..."
"Speaking of Mulder, do you think the new doctor has a crush on her?" he
asked out of the blue.
"What?" Cade furrowed his brow at Baxter. Having a conversation with the
Chief of Security was like trying herd cats.
"Oh, it just seems like it," he said.
"Well, then, I hope for his sake that he doesn't act on the impulse."
"Why's that?" Baxter asked curiously, sending out another "cat".
"Because Her That's In Charge will break him in half with her bare hands
if he does." Cade got a mischievous grin on his face. "Sorry, I guess I
was channeling my inner counselor there for a moment."
"You sound, Sir, like a person who's had experience," Baxter said, but he
dropped the subject abruptly. "I'll keep your advice on hand."
Cade waved a finger at the padd. "Anyway, back to the eval. Any issues
currently on your threat radar?"
"Well there's one," Baxter said. "Lt. Cdr. Alexi Oliverez, Gamma Fleet
Security Advisor - here to look me over up and down and communicate with
me. Have you met him?"
"No, not yet." Cade smirked. "So far, I've done a pretty good job of
avoiding him."
"Seems nice enough," Baxter said. "I'm trying to corrupt him. I mean, I'm
trying to show him that BoB is a great place. It seems to be taking."
"Then godspeed on that mission. The more brass we have on our side, the
better the chances of our requests actually being honoured." The Marine
made a mental note that he should follow through on his own words and
meet with Oliverez. "Anything else?"
"Otherwise, there's one Jyan Chera, a civilian pilot with Klingon and a
big, fancy ship. Says he's a merchant transport. He's more like a
smuggler. I'll be keeping an eye on him. He's just small beans though in
the stew. Got anyone you want checked out?"
"None right now," he replied with a shake of his head. "Ever since the
film crew left here, there's been a dearth of shady characters. I'm kind
of beginning to miss it."
"They appear in phases, Sir," Baxter grinned. "Trust me. We'll never be
bored."
"Well, Lieutenant Commander Mattingly, I don't have anything else. I
wanted to keep this short and to the point since your time is just as
valuable as mine is. If you've no objections, I'll log your evaluation
with Gamma Fleet and we can get on with our business of stomping on
anyone that tries to stomp on us first."
"Thank you, Sir," he said. "I"ll just head out then and see what my
assistant girlie is up to."
With a salute, Baxter was gone. As soon as the door closed behind him, he
bit into a Cadbury bar.
=^= Infirmary =^=
The doctor had the time right? Time to take a little nap, he push the
PADD away and got comfortable on his desk and fell asleep in matter of
seconds...He wake up in is ready room, the door chime was being heard.
"Enter" while he tried to fix his hair.
"You ok Capt.?" Said the XO.
"Yes, just reading to many reports, you have a update on the border?"
"no, nothing knew except that warship seen"
"It's going to be something going back to BoB " he said touching his pin
on the collar.
" That true you we're the CMO on bob for a number of years" The XO said,
she was younger.
"Yes, they we're good times, it's just strange now that the USS Dracolich
is going to protect it" he smile.
" Yes, well it's not a sure thing that the attacks were for that reason"
she tried to comfort him.
"That's nice to say, but our ship is good for a number of things and
investigation is not one of them. Not with that number of fighters and
marine on board,"
"True, but at least it recent not like the starbase" he smirk
"Don't be fool by the outside, that base can whoop ass, and with the
captain she has it a pretty dangerous combination." he still remember
captain Mulder, how he still love her but now he has one of the newest
ship of starfleet love was not part of the deal.
"Well let's go to the bridge" as he walk outside his ready room, he heard
"Captain on deck"
"At ease people, let's focus on the task at hand and do what we do best,
let's be alert!" He look at the screen .
"Open a channel to captain mulder" he smile.
"Mulder here" she was as beautiful as before
"Hi captain Mulder I'm here to get rid of the mosquitoes that are buzzing
around" he wink
"Red look good on you mister Bonnenfant" she said.
"Thanks, I do like the blue occasionally" he laugh. "will be in orbit for
a few days, if their anything else let me know"
"We will, welcome back" she smile and then she disappear.
He sat in his chair looking at the members of his crew being busy
analyzing everything that could possibly relate to the ships. He remember
when he use to be the one giving option. He remember being a first
officer and being nervous on his first away mission. Those we're good
times.
"Something on long range scan" A male voice said.
"anyone knows who they are?"
"Not friendly" the first officer said in a exciting voice as she almost
scream "Shield up"
"Take us into a interception course Mr. grikons" he open comm "This is
you're Captain Every fighters pilots and marines report to you're
station, this is not a exercise, everyone at you're station."
That's what he like adrenaline, he was charging, he was running toward
danger. "Report" as he was looking at the ships coming toward him.
"They're powering weapons and shields"
"give the ok for the fighters, let's blow those shit disturbers" he smile
as he saw the fighters appearing on his view screen. He was going to be
another kill or be kill scenario. Another we would win....
"Sir, Sir , SIRRRR!!"
He open his eyes, Vivianne was in front of him "yes, Vivianne?"
"You're patient still waiting for you're results, sir" looking at him
disturb that he wasn't on the ball.
"Oh yes, sorry I am exhausted" he found a excuse.
"You should delegate more Sir, the shop,. foundation and infirmary is
maybe to much..."
"No, it won't happen again, umm.., what was the result again?"
=/\= Somewhere in Mort's subconcious =/\=
It was the same dream...but this time with more clarity, more apparent
emotion. Not just a dream, but a memory--at least at the core.
The spring wind danced through the olive trees...Mort joins the crown in
the square surrounded by sights and sounds.
Mort takes
in between
once again
dimension.
universe.
the young lady by the hand. The crowd laughs as her heel slips
two cobblestones and Mort catches her...they grin and Mort is
sucked into those deep black eyes transported to a new
The music starts as they spin and whirl into their own
The pair find themselves floating on a cloud of cotton, the young comic
leans in and...
Mork awoke with a start. He looked around, blinking the sleep from his
eyes. He was in his quarters, in bed, but feeling a curious sense of
happiness and elation.
After a few seconds, he realized what had awoken him. His comm panel was
chiming--it was the long awaited return call from Vulcan. Great, from the
wonderous to the bizzare...
=^= Security training =^=
"Move it people," Baxter yelled as he ran along beside the security team.
"Look at Vega. You can beat here. She's just a girlie."
There were several moans as Lt. Vega was well ahead of them.
"Move it. Move it," Baxter continued sounding like a drill sergeant in
the hated marines. "You're all wimps. Even I can run faster than you and
I eat tons of chocolate every day."
They eyed the security chief. They sped up. Baxter run along, not even
out of breath.
"Chocolate is healthy," he added.
Then they came to an obstacle. "Hit the mud!" he yelled.
The team did just that. Mud flew all over the holodeck and Baxter knew
he'd be getting a cleaning bill from engineering. His wife would see to
that.
"Sir, this is terrible," one said.
"Look at Vega," Baxter said. "She'll be in the showers before you get
out."
Several of the males thought the idea of Vega in the shower was pretty
interesting, so they hurried a little faster.
The next part of the training involved marksmanship. There were large
figures and small figures of Baxter scattered about the area. Baxter
holding chocolate was not to be hit, Baxter holding a phaser was. The
shooting began.
Suddenly a zaps ran out and every single Baxter with chocolate was
destroy into vapor.
"Hey," Baxter said turning.
Mulder stood there smoking phaser in hand. Beside her was his beloved
wife, Yus.
"I haven't gotten my chocolate today," Mulder said.
"I have gotten my ..." Yus began, but Baxter cut her short.
"Training's over. Everyone hit the showers," he said. "I'll take care of
both of you now."
There was a loud, "ahem" noise that caused Baxter to open his eyes. The
entire security team was standing in front of him.
"We're waiting for our orders, Sir," one said."You just kind of dozed
off."
Baxter yawned. "Not enough sleep at night," he stated.
There were giggles from the girls, quickly stifled when he glared.
"Okay," he said, "here's what you do ..."
All the time he passed out orders he was hoping he could get another half
hour's sleep.
=^= The Mulder =^=
Jyan Chera moved through the enemy vessel as passengers screamed. Several
crew had been killed as they foolishly tried to defend the cargo. Jyan
never killed passengers unless they interfered. If they just kept quiet,
they'd be fine. Unlike fellow villains in the same trade, Jyan didn't
deal in slavery, didn't allow his crew to take their pleasure with
captives. He had his morales, you know. The only time anyone got hurt was
if Jyan needed to know information and no one would talk or if anyone put
up a fight.
Right now the captives were all in the ballroom. This was a space liner a big, beautiful vessel that wouldn't ever have allowed Jyan to come
aboard as a passenger even if he had the money. They were snobs. His crew
mocked the rich people and had a few laughs. Jyan enjoyed that as well.
He had no love for this type of blight on the universe. They did,
however, provide him with a living.
He watched as his men/women brought out bundles of rich clothing, jewels,
credits and tidbits. There wer other things that the shipping company
owned that left, too - paintings, china, silverware - all gone, all
loaded into Jyan's three ships. It was the biggest haul of his career.
He had to thank Mulder for letting him stay on BoB. The ships that came
by were fat and rich. They didn't think anyone was out there except the
stupid BoBers. With a little travel time, he could have them and go to
his favorite terminal to sell off the supplies.
He looked around as they left the ship. "I really would have liked to
have kept it," he said.
His Klingon partner grunted. "It's the three pools," he said. "You never
can resist a pool."
They two laughed.
"Captain," a snarl said in his ear. "What are you doing?"
Jyan opened his eyes, his head still fuzzy. "What?" he asked.
"You were supposed to start the engine 20 minutes ago?" the Klingon said.
"We were testing it, remember?"
"Right," Jyan said. "Sorry."
"You were asleep," he said.
"Just tired," Jyan said, shaking his head.
"This isn't like you," the Klingon replied.
"Nonsense," Jyan said. "Go back down to engineering. I'll start things
now."
He watched the Klingon go and yawned. That had been a great sleep.
=/\= England, Earth - the present =/\=
Detective Inspector Kate Ellis tried to keep her face impassive as she
stared through the one-way glass panel into the interview room. The man
inside - clean, bland and yet repellent at the same time - knew she was
watching.
He turned his head slightly and looked straight at her, even though he
couldn't see her. He knew she was there. His thin lips curved slightly
into a sneer.
She clenched her fists. Her CID team were all toughened professionals,
but some crimes still had the power to evoke the primeval urge for pure
revenge.
She'd already had to re-assign Sergeant Wesley Pattersen, the proud
father of a new baby girl, to other duties. For his own protection, if he
wanted to keep his job.
This was the twenty-fourth century, for God's sake! Childhood diseases
had been eradicated. Infant mortality was practically zero. Child poverty
was mostly a thing consigned to the history books. All parents ought to
have to worry about was whether their children were driving too fast in
their landcruisers, or playing hookey from school.
But human nature never changed. Some things lasted throughout the
centuries.
On other worlds, other species would have sent in a telepath to rip a
confession out of his mind. And then, depending on what they found, they
would either medically reconstruct his neural pathways to make sure he
never again wanted to offend in that way, or dispose if him like the
garbage he was.
But this was Earth. The jewel of the Sol System. Prisoners had rights and
telepathic evidence was inadmissible in court. Sure, she'd had Inspector
M'rana sit in on an interview, and the half-Betazoid had told them the
man was guilty.
But without those little bodies, how could they prove it? Forensics were
good - almost too good these days. Any criminal knew the pitfalls, and
this one knew more than most.
Proof. Bodies. Guilt.
Kate sighed quietly to herself and turned away. It had been a long shift,
and she was starting to feel the particular bone-weariness that comes
from too much caffeine, too much adrenaline, too much frustration.
The Police Investigation Centre at Marblin Road was new and boasted all
modern facilities. She wondered when law enforcement had changed from
cops in a police station to criminal investigation experts working out of
a 'centre'. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like in the
old days.
She worked her shoulders round to help ease the knots of tension out,
rubbing the back of her neck. Her honey-blonde hair was starting to
escape from it's neat bun, and she knew her face was tired, etched with
the trauma of the investigation.
The images had been bad enough. He'd sworn they'd been planted in his
commconsole. Yeahright. But finding those mutilated, abused little bodies
was the only way to prove his guilt. And the only way for the distraught,
devastated parents to get any scrap of closure, or at least a fresh start
to the nightmare they were condemned to live through for the rest of
their lives.
The psychologist that was due to arrive came well recommended, amongst
Kate's many contacts in the Met. She'd reserve judgement until she'd seem
her in action. Right now, she was willing to try anything.
"Cuppa tea, boss?" Tim Henshaw, the newest DC to her team, appeared at
her elbow with a cup of hot steaming liquid.
"Yeah. Thanks." She took a sip and grimaced automatically. Why did the
replicators in the building still turn out stuff that was practically
undrinkable, and yet addictive too? "Seen the shrink arrive yet?"
"Not yet, you want her sent right in?"
"Yes. As soon as she gets here," Kate turned away and walked back to her
office. Even standing in a different room to the criminal left her
feeling tainted.
* * *
Secretary was wittering in her ear as the hovercar pulled into the yard.
Arihana listened in a placid silence absorbing the case history and
information. She felt physically sick as the details were given. Was an
abomination. A carbuncle on the face of civilized society. Secretarys'
voiced filtered away. Pulling on her jacket, Arihana left her car.
Entering Marblin Road, she pulled her shirt sleeves down. Azure blue
cufflinks glinted. She was not happy. Not one bit.
DC Henshaw had stopped to talk with Harry Brentwood on the main desk, and
muttered, "Aye aye, that's a shrink."
"How d'you know, then?" Harry smirked. "Second sight?"
"Nope. Just know the type," Tim grinned. He didn't mention that he'd
checked out Doctor Dharma's profile before loitering with intent around
the main entrance. Tim was keen and ambitious, in a good methodical way.
"Doctor Dharma I presume?"
"Correct," Arihana nodded with a muted smile. Somewhere in her internal
recesses, her bowels were churning. Part to do with missing breakfast,
and partly to do with the case history.
"Welcome to the madhouse. Come on through, the DI is waiting for you," he
signed her in and issued her with an electronic tag. "How's life down in
the smoke, then?"
"Smokey," was her elliptical response as she took the tag. "All fog and
fumes, but it's home."
"Yeah, thought you were a native, of sorts," he gave an easy smile. "I
warn you now, this is a lousy one. You've been briefed?"
"To a degree," Arihana replied, putting her hands in her pockets. "My
assistant has given me the version that is all neatly tied up. Only I'm
more interested in the stuff that didn't make it to the final edit."
"Interested? Yeah," Tim Henshaw decided that it wasn't the word he'd use.
"There's plenty more we kept out of the news, for decency's sake. The DI
can fill you in when you meet her."
"Where is he?" Arihanas' gaze threaded towards a door.
Tim hesitated, DI Ellis had said to bring the shrink straight to her, but
they were passing the interview room anyway, so it couldn't hurt. "In
here," he said abruptly, leading Dharma into the viewing room.
"He's a performer all right," she wandered over to the one way glass.
"C'mon, mate, step up to the plate," she jumped a little to face to face.
"Ugly little thing aint he?" Arihana frowned to trace a smiley face on
the glass.
"Ugly inside and out," Tim shrugged. "But kids...they don't see that.
They see their favourite uncle." He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Until it's too late."
"Start from the top, please, DC Henshaw...."She mirrored the suspects
face as it contorted in taunt. "I'm intrigued."
"Eh? Where d'you want to begin? With the assaults? The abductions? The
investigation? What the team had for lunch?" he was being deliberately
flippant. The whole business was sucking at his professionalism, and he
knew it. They all felt like that, to a degree, and he also knew they were
all fighting to snap out of it.
"With all respect," she started as she removed her jacket, still fixed on
the glass. "Cut the crap. Background behavioural analysis and
investigational data." Handing over the jacket, Arihana undid her
cufflinks and rolled up her sleeves. "Only I mean business."
"He's already been worked over. In the most professional sense," Tim
smirked. "What you going to do? Bash him with a briefcase of Shrink
Journals?"
"Give over," She smiled to look at Henshaw. "You'll have read my
background, and pulled recommendations. Not only do I know how to suck
eggs, I can beat, boil and poach 'em too," she added tapping the
observational glass.
"The only method I'd like to see is scrambled. In pieces," Tim added
darkly.
"If you start with interviewing him, as per normal,I'll watch." Arihana
replied. "Only I'll be the flea in your ear. Then if we still get
nothing.."Arihana smiled. "I shall come in, and perhaps we can both get
him to play ball."
"This isn't a game of catch.." Tim started.
"Trust me, Henshaw," Arihana smirked. "You'll have heard about the
baseball bat."
"No?" he gave her an odd look.
not me doing the interviewing.
to the team a few months back.
that's where we're supposed to
open meaningfully.
"And I don't think I want to. Anyway, it's
I'm just a lowly DC. Only been transferred
It's DI Ellis who's running the show, and
be heading right now," he held the door
"Kay," Arihana nodded looking at the door. "What she like, this DI Ellis.
Any good?" she asked, aware that this was a situation to test the best of
blessed saints.
"Ellis? She's good. Experienced. No kids of her own, so is keeping a
better emotional distance than the rest of us. Or maybe she's just hiding
it better," Tim pushed the button on the lift to take them up to Kate's
office. "She'll give you what you need to know." ~Probably~ he added
silently to himself.
"Hope so," Arihana replied, "For all our sakes."
Tim rapped on the door, "Boss? Visitor."
Kate walked to the door herself, and dismissed Tim with a muted smile and
mutter of thanks. "So, Doctor Dharma, is it? Or should I call you
counsellor? I understand you're ex-Starfleet."
Arihana laughed quietly. "Can call me what you like," she started.
"There's not a lot in a name. Yes. An ex-counsellor, but always as mad as
a hatter."
"Is this much different, your present line of work, I mean?" Kate
indicated they should sit, as she pulled up a file and slid the largescreen Padd over to Dharma's side of the desk.
Arihana shrugged to take a seat. "No matter where you are, there are
fruit loops aplenty for everyone. You ever head in the stratosphere?"
"I don't go into space much," Kate shrugged. "Work keeps me here, plenty
busy. First off, I need to explain the jurisdiction," knowing that Dharma
was a recent civilian, Kate decided to lay out their lines of play. "The
Sol System Investigation Bureau covers most major crimes within the
system on an interplanetary basis. But something like this, vile though
it is, isn't usually within the SSIB's remit, unless it scans different
Sol System planets and had a wider ranging impact. Single-world criminals
fall to the local Planetary Law Enforcement precincts, and this is just
one of them covering this country. We're along the route now as far as
our investigations as regards forensics can take us. We know he's guilty.
He knows we know he's guilty. And we can't prove it. Stalemate." She
placed her hands flat on the desktop. "That's where you come in."
"Okay," Arihana nodded. "I guess it's about re-organising the pawns, and
arranging cover from the rooks. We have the evidence as the silent
witness. Not to mention the bodies. All blatantly obvious."
"If we had the bodies, then they would indeed be silent witnesses. But
until we do...we have no case," Kate's lips compressed in tiredness and
frustration.
Rising from her seat, the Detective Inspector began to pace. "This has
been going on for a long time. We started to see the pattern, but it was
too vague to be certain, and I'm sure he knew that. But his MO meant that
we could narrow down possible victims, but never with any useful
surety.."
She moved behind Dharma and tapped the Padd forcefully. "Two years and
three months ago, an eight year old girl, on holiday here from a small
town in North America that sits right on the US/Canada border,
disappeared. How could a child just disappear in this day and age? There
were all sorts of theories, and all trails went cold. Gone. One year and
eleven months ago, another eight year old girl vanished, separate part of
the country, on holiday here from Australia. No leads. No sightings. One
year and six months ago, another case, this time nine years old, this
time on holiday with family from Brazil. You're seeing the pattern here?"
"He's playing geographic hop, skip and jump," Arihana replied nodding.
"Moves across time, location and population to achieve some sense of
ecological validity. No doubt he has a lovely nickname."
"The Continent Killer. Not particularly clever or catchy, no. But we
knew, when the next child that was abducted, one year and two months ago,
was Russian. We'd had North America, South America, Australia, Asia..."
Kate wandered to her coffee machine, then changed her mind. She was too
wired on caffeine as it was. Nine months ago, a seven year old girl from
Nairobi, Africa. We knew the net was closing - closer to home. I was
brought in with Victim Number Four, and worked my ass off to make damn
sure there wasn't a number five - but there was, the little African
girl."
Arihana shook her head. "I can't believe you were counting."
"We thought we had only Europe to worry about. Didn't realise he was
planning on moving even closer to home." Kate rubbed her forehead.
"Victim number six. A nine year old from Warrington, Cheshire. It was
shortly after her abduction that we first got an anonymous tipoff...about images on someone's computer..."
"A bit too close for comfort that...."Arihana mentally did the maths.
Warrington was not too far from Pudsey, but Suraj was a boy. All victims
so far were female.
Kate swiftly ran through the technicalities of the case from that point,
leading to the cautioning and questioning of the man in custody. "And the
worst thing, was having to try and identify the bodies," she didn't try
to hide the anguish in her voice.
She projected onto the wall, images of six small bodies in back view
close-up. Using their backs as a canvas, the killer had etched out with a
knife or scalpel a map of their home continent. "Complete with details,
and writing, that he added using some basic tattoo needle," Kate said
quietly. "Maps. In detail. Etched into living, tender young flesh. And
the only images we got, were these. The back view..."
Arihana looked at the images, suppressing the urge to be sick.
"We tried to get family members to identify the images, but the only
people really who would know, even from that awful sight, were the
mothers. And all these little girls had mothers. I know. I had to escort
them to the viewings," Kate's voice grew even more subdued. "Can you
imagine, seeing a mother's heart ripped out as she looks at the
mutilation, trying to see if that little bodies is the baby she held in
her arms, the child she held to cuddle, the sweet baby she loved and
vowed to protect...."
"I could see their minds melting with agony. How much did this hurt? Did
their babies cry for their mothers? How could they understand why their
mums didn't save them? Were they dead already, and was that a mercy? Or
were they still alive, undergoing unimaginable torture every day?" Kate's
arms were clasped around her waist, tight, as if holding in her fury.
"Questions like that are why I have a job to do."
Two of the mothers are still receiving psychiatric support," Kate's voice
was now clipped and toneless. "One is dead, along with her two year old
remaining daughter. She was the one who made the most positive ID. She
knew her daughter was dead. She wanted to join her - or at least, get to
a place where she didn't have to see the images in her head any more.
Taking her other daughter with her was a way of making sure she never had
to go through that."
"The victims," Arihana was thinking. "Dead, alive?" she asked, hoping
somewhat naively that it would be positive.
"We think they're dead, of course we do. Maybe it's best if...." she
didn't finish. Maybe it was best if they were, rather than life through a
life with a mind destroyed by fear and pain. But no, she wouldn't say
that aloud.
"I wanna talk to him," Arihana stated tilting her head. "Wanna see what
makes the vile creature tick," she looked straight at Ellis.
"That's why I brought you here. I understand you have a knack of getting
inside their head. Seeing things through their eyes," Kate say down
again, hands clasped around a cold coffee mug.
"To him, this is game. A passage on waters he has charted in his head all
too well. His victims were necessary and contingent. The fact that
parents would be aggrieved, he's not too fussed. His brain is not wired
for altruism."
"I don't know about that..." Kate said slowly. "About parents not being
the targets. Dharma, I sat with every one of those mothers, and fathers.
The images - the uncertainty, the imaginings they must have had, were
almost worst than a clean-cut statement of a quick death. It's weird. I
just don't know... why he went global. He doesn't give anything away."
"He's a crafty son of a bachelor who has got you lot wrapped around...a
finger," she tilted her head reading the padd. "You try to tie him in
knots, only he's got you lot crocheted all over the shop.
"And you can unravel that?" Kate asked bluntly. "Why do you think you
can?"
"You see, most people call me Dharma. Patients call me Doctor." Arihana
could hear a crescendo rise in her ears as her gaze concentrated. "My
son, he calls me mum."
"I see. A mother knows? I don't want to sound sceptical, but - "
Arihana stood, rubbing her hands together. "Someone tried to abduct him
once," she wiggled her nose to plant her hands in her pockets.
"And?" Kate knew when to let someone speak - at least when they *wanted*
to speak.
"I got there in time, doled out some justice. But I never forgot, and I
don't plan to. I got to my son, can still hear his voice when I come
home. However," she glanced at the padd. "Some folks will forever hanging
onto home movies."
"Yeah. That's all they have left. At least if we found the bodies, we
could lay them to rest. Bring them home. That's all the parents can hope
for now.," Kate's voice was soft.
"Children are painful little blighters," the former counsellor rolled her
sleeves tighter. "You birth them, bathe their cuts and take pictures of
them in their school uniform. They so much as get a stitch and you go
running towards them. Push and pull you to the nth degree."
"Wouldn't know personally," Kate pulled back into emotion-free
professionalism.
"Fact is, Ellis, you love them more than your heart will let you, then
bastards like this...."Arihana nodded towards the padd, "Like that
gobshite come along. It's a though your heart gets ripped clean out."
"I've seen it happen," Kate said shortly. "And we have to make sure it
never happens again. Not this way. Not this one."
"So yes," Arihana sighed deeply. "Lemme at him."
Wordlessly, Kate stood up and led them out, back along the corridors of
the station and down to the interview room. With no warning, she flung
the door open and walked in, pulled out a chair without waiting for
Dharma to do the same and switched on the tape in one fluid motion.
No real eye contact, no real interest, just detached. That was her tack,
and she played it through. This time, if he wanted an audience, he would
have every reason to focus on Dharma. Double whammy - talk, and get the
attention of the uninterested cop plus the interest of the shrink. Could
he resist it?
As the recording light started, Kate intoned, "Interview with Rod
Sampson, 1430 hours. Present are Detective Inspector Katherine Ellis and
Consultant psychologist Doctor Arihana Dharma."
The formalities complete, she said as if vastly unimpressed and bored
with his performance thus far, "Right then Rod, the doctor is going to
ask you a few questions. See if there's any intelligence in that thick
head of yours. Don't waste our time now. If it's all too complicated for
you, just say you're too stupid to understand."
Hello, Rod,"Arihana sat back in her seat to look straight at him. "You
okay, this lot been treating you all right? Hate to hear if they used and
abused you." How she wanted to smack him sideways and hand him a rear
view mirror. Only that wasn't up to her but the fellow inmates that he
would see in prison.
He gave her a contemptuous look, "Yeah. Police brutality. Might have to
say summat about that in court. Mebbe I won't sue you, too, if you wanna
help."
"Oh, I'm sorry, you confuse me with someone who actually gives flying
feck about you." Arihana replied, putting out her hand to leaf through
evidence images. "'cause trust me. I don't."
He gave a short bark of laughter, "Yeah yeah, you'll be sorry you said
that once I'm free. Justice, y'know? I've done nothing wrong."
"Everyone's innocent, Rod, I know, and all Defence lawyers are on the
take, and this is a stitch up," Arihana shuffled the images. "I'm here
only for the cucumber sandwiches and Earl Grey, even if it does taste
like crap."
He looked away as if bored.
"Did they cry?" She flicked across an image. "As to pressed the flesh and
drew. Did they scream at you to stop. 'Cause that's all I'm hearing.
Their screams. Their sobs to stop."
"Did they? I don't know. You tell me. You've got all the answers," he
didn't bother to look.
"You lulled them in," Arihana looked up, tilting her head. "What was it?
Cotton candy, a doll. Sweeties, was it vimto lollies, 'cause even I like
them."
"Lollies. Sweet sweet lollies," he parodied a child's voice.
"Was lollies, wasn't it. Vimto lollies." Arihana concentrated her gaze,
to look straight through him. "You got lollies for me. Or am I too old
for you."
"Sweetie, you're too old for *anyone* who isn't drawing a pension." He
gave her a dismissive look.
"So you admit you like little ones?" Her lips curled into a smirk. "All
wide eyed and innocent."
"I didn't say that."
"Got you recorded, sunshine. so don't be backing up." she nodded towards
the recording light.
"I'd like to see you prove it," he spun round in a sharp movement, "In
court. You've got to prove it. And I'm innocent."
"See," sitting forwards, Arihana rested her elbows onto the desktop. "You
cerebral fantasist with a taste for ankle socks and checked gingham. Me,
a mother in the real world who wants you hung drawn and quartered. Fancy
it?"
"Ahh a mother that cares," he mocked her. "That makes you different, does
it? A mother that cares? Rare breed, mothers that care," he mumbled.
"Where are they, Rod?" She asked peering straight into his eyes. "Where
did you lay them to rest, cause I know it's doing my head head. Not to
mention everyone else' Like their parents, for instance."
"Parents? You mean mothers, don't you?" His eyes glittered. "Wouldn't it
be awful if the little girls thought their mummies didn't love them any
more."
"Would be a tragedy," she replied, fingers twitching.
"Hypothetical, sweetie lolly lady," he smirked. "Supposing whoever did
this was warped enough to - for example - tell them that this is what
their mothers wanted him to do to them? Supposing that when they cried,
he told them their mummies were watching and laughing? Suppose when they
sobbed and screamed for their mummies he told them their mummies were
never ever coming because they didn't love them?"
"Guessing yours was a barrel of laughs," Arihana really didn't like that
cold absence in his eyes. "A whole new meaning to service station. Bit
neglected, were we, bet you wet the bet til you were ten. Made you feel
disgusting, like the vile creature you grew up to be."
"Not everyone has mothers that care," his voice was low and dangerous.
"Suppose someone thought that it was time others learned that. Yeah...
suppose..."
"Fount of all knowledge you, aint you, want to write the practical guide
to parenting, or something?"
He sat back lazily, "Interesting hypothesis though. For all I know it
might even be true. But since they're all dead, you'd never be able to
prove it."
Kate Ellis gritted her teeth, knowing with every ounce of copper's
instinct that he was telling the truth. She wanted to be sick. But he
hadn't *actually* admitted anything yet. He was indeed playing games with
them, and the sick bastard was enjoying it.>
Slapping her palms down, Arihana stood up. "You're wasting my time, Rod.
I don't wanna play no more. No more games. I'm done in. Don't wanna play
more. Game over."
"Is it now.. is it really.." the smile was nauseating in it's
knowingness.
"No wanna play." Arihana turned to Ellis. "Would you give Rod and I a
minute, please?" she asked. "I'd like to review the rules with the
Grandmaster."
Kate gave her a sharp look, "That's not entirely by the book."
"Ellis. I said please. I asked nicely," Arihana turned back to Rod.
"Didn't I, Rod. I asked nicely."
Rob just shrugged.
Kate let our a short breath and stood up, "Be careful," she muttered.
"This is probably our last chance before his lawyer yanks him out of
here."
Waiting til Ellis had left the room, Arihana dragged her chair around
towards the low flying scuzzball that was shredding her nerves shorter by
the second.
"I don't like you," Arihana propped her elbow on the desktop, to cradle
her chin. "I really don't, not one little bit. I would love, it would
give me great pleasure, to smack you sideways."
"More police brutality?" he gave an affected sigh. "But then you're a
mummy, too, aren't you? All mummies are brutal. Cruel. Unkind. Mothers
don't know how to love." He smirked, "And I shall say that in court. When
they prove me innocent. I shall tell all the mummies listening about my
little hypothesis. How their little girls *might* have died at some
unknown person's hands, believing that their mummies didn't love them any
more, and, in the end, hating their mummies for abandoning them. Yeah. I
will."
She just stared. Stared into the murky depths of the eyes of a killer. An
abuser. A sick bastard who really needed his head examined.
"And then they can sort out how much compensation to pay me..." he
whistled innocently. "Buy me a nice holiday, that will."
Arihana wasn't listening. She really didn't care, pushing her seat back,
she rolled her sleeves up. "I'm bored of this game. Let's play another,"
she stated walking around the back of his seat.
He tensed but still smirked.
Reaching out for his collar, this was something very brave or very
stupid. With a heavy thud, he landed against the wall.
He let out a grunt as the air was knocked out of him, but said nothing,
just turned around and gave her a mocking stare.
Was an entirely different side to Counsellor Dharma. The ugly annoyed one
that very rarely reared its head. "Ever had a hernia?" she asked curling
her fingers into a fist to double him over.
He grunted again as the blow landed, gripping his stomach instinctively.
His eyes flickered to the one-way mirror, where he knew They were
watching.
In the darkened viewing room, Kate Ellis was standing rigid stiff,
watching this unfold. Beside her, Tim Henshaw shifted uncomfortably.
"We've got to stop it, boss. We've got to."
Kate pretended not to hear him, torn between the desire to see Rod
pummelled to pulp, and knowing that their credibility, and case, were
fast disappearing down the pan.
Ignoring the throb of her hand, Dharma pushed him back by the shoulders.
Slumped and bowed, she could look him in the eyes again. "Tell me what
you did, did it hurt as much as this?"Arihana twisted anatomy that if
this guy got to prison, he wouldn't need to worry about too much.
He shouted out in pain, and then gasped, "What do you want me to say?"
"The flesh was weak, but the mind willing, that right? You're twisted,
sick mind." Letting go, she swung another fist.
He cried out again, "I don't care what I say. I'll say anything. Anything
you want, to make you stop punching me," he shouted the last words
clearly.
"Oh, shut up, you're squealing like a girl," again she pulled him up.
Half his size and body weight, anger did strange things to her.
"Fuck it," Kate slammed a fist against the wall. "That's it. Too far."
Tim was already halfway to the door, "Boss. We gotta get her out of there
ourselves. I don't think she's going to come willingly."
Inside, Rod was curled up into a ball, whimpering and sobbing, "You're
hurting me.. you're hurting me.."
"I'm not hurting you, I couldn't," her eyes were wide and furied as she
gripped her fingers tight around his neck. "Not me, a weak, lily livered
girl." she could feel the bulge of his pulse, time right, it would go
through the roof like a rocket then stop.
The door crashed open, "Doctor Dharma. A word outside," Kate shouted.
"Die," Arihana whispered into an ear. "Die, see if I care," she let go to
step back. Letting him gag and sink down the wall.
"Outside. NOW!" Kate snapped as Tim Henshaw advanced into the room,
almost putting a barrier between Dharma and Rod.
Rolling down sleeves, Arihana left the interview room. "Someone get that
man the forensic medical examiner," she told an officer. "He's a Category
A Self Harmer," she lied doing up her cuff links.
Kate jerked a head at Tim, who started radioing for the FME, and advanced
on Dharma. "And just what the fuck were you playing at?" she hissed. "If
I'd wanted him beaten senseless I could have done it myself, smarter and
without it being recorded on video and tape."
"Man, than felt good," Arihana gave what could almost be described as a
hearty smile. "Knocks spots off going to the gym,"she added, her heart
beating fit to burst.
"He'll walk, now." Kate's lips were almost white with compression. "His
solicitor will have him out of here before the day's out."
"Dead men,Ellis," Arihana started, "Don't walk," she added ad infinitum
putting her jacket on. "Not bad, nice day at the office that. Very
satisfying."
From inside the room they could hear the mumbled but eerily triumphant
call of "Police Brutality. I'm going to sue."
"Dead? He's far too alive for my liking," Kate Ellis spat out.
At that moment there was a flurry of movement as people approached. The
FME burst through them, and behind him Rod's solicitor, giving hostile
glances all round and doubtless reckoning up his fee at the same time.
Kate turned away. "Christ, I need a drink," she muttered. "Tim, escort
Doctor Dharma out of the station. NOW."
* * * TWO DAYS LATER * * *
The crowds of journalists outside the court building surged forwards,
camera-bots hovering.
The facially battered figure of Rod Sampson limped down the steps in the
protective custody of his solicitor, and began his press conference.
"Justice has been done, although there are some within the system who
would try to convict an innocent man. I am now going to take a short
vacation, and will be in negotiation regarding the full story, and also
be drafting a case against the Criminal Investigation Service..."
Leaning against a pillar at the top of the steps, Kate Ellis looked on in
disgust.
"Okay, boss?" Tim Henshaw came up beside her. "You, uh, want to come for
a drink with the team? Get the taste of this jerk out of our system?"
"No. Thank you. I'd better be getting back to the office." She shot a
last disgusted glance at the criminal, as he continued to lap up press
attention. "That bastard is going to get away now, out of our
jurisdiction, and start all over again, on another world."
Tim just scuffed the stone steps moodily, knowing she was right.
"You go on, Tim. Have one or three for me. I'm going back to the office.
Reports to write, she paused. "Calls to make."
She patted him on the shoulder and slipped away behind the crowds.
=/\= EPILOGUE: LUNA COLONY - THREE DAYS LATER =/\=
The two crater-skaters paused to catch their breath. Behind them the glow
of the domed city on Earth's moon shone brightly, other cities dotting
the horizon.
In front lay their favourite crater, and they positioned their anti-grav
boards ready to plummet.
"And...gooooo...." they yelped with delight, their adrenalin shrieks
echoing in each other's earpieces of the lightweight oxygenated suits
they wore.
Scuffling to a halt at the bottom of the crater, one nudged the other.
"Man, do you see that?" He pointed to a silhouette a few yards in front
of them.
"Yeah. What the...." the other approached. "Jesus! That's sick... get on
the comm...."
Within half an hour the crater was sealed off as the Lunan Law
Enforcement team arrived.
Doctor Rays'r leaned over the body. "Adult male, Terran."
"Yeah, I guessed that," the laconic voice of Inspector Carnie Facere came
over his comm. "It's the rest I ain't so sure about..."
The naked body was laid face down, weighted to stop it floating away in
the low gravity of the moon's surface. On his back was carved, in
exquisite detail, a map of the moon. Every crater and township etched out
with a laser, deep and raw.
"Turn him over," Facere ordered.
It was clear he hadn't died easy. His face was set in a rictus of pain.
There were mutterings from the team but Facere spoke again. "I recognise
that face. Got a bulletin about it a few days ago. Unless I'm mistaken
this is one Rod Sampson, alleged child killer from Earth. He walked a few
days ago, they reckoned he might try again. We've been keeping a watch
out for him. But I sure didn't get any reports he'd arrived here."
"That's not all," Doctor Rays'r said. "Look," he shone his flashlight
over the dead man's stomach.
Also laser etched, this time there were words.
They read simply, "Where others fail, The Patriots will protect."
=/\=USS Caledonia, Scavenger's Hub=/\=
Zerin, Carsin, and Sandrik stood at the doorway of the Big Bar. They knew
it was a big bar because it had a cavernous interior and was about half
full, which gave the illusion of being bigger than it really was. Zerin
had never seen a more wretched hive of thrums and off-key melody. Yes,
this place had an open mike night, and an overly earnest folk singer was
taking advantage of it to sing a protest song about saving targs.
Mike, Tol and Carol were sitting in a corner to make sure to be able to
see the full bar. They were drinking beer and after a nigth of foot
messages mike was finally getting more confortable with the boots. Tol
was looking at the had that said open mike but didn't think it was in
Mike plan and would probably get kill by Carol if he mention anything
relatively close to singing. Carol saw the Xo in the doorway and nudge
the elbow of the MO that almost fell chin first on the table. Mike didn't
want to wave at them thinking it would probably bring to much attention.
He got up and walk with the half crow to their location.
"Hey lady want a drink?" with a huge grin, making sure she understood it
was a Joke.
Zerin smiled back and was going to say something when the folk singer
began pleading with the audience to remember the targs' suffering and
someone began passing out pamphlets to everyone, including Zerin, Mike,
Tol, Carsin, Sandrik, and Carol.
Zerin had to read these pamphlets. Apparently the targs were being
sacrificed in Klingon rituals. Among other things. She stuffed the
pamphlet back in her pocket, then wrote her name down for the open mike.
Carsin was afraid of this.
Mike read about the sacrifice and wasn't impress but some culture still
did it so when in rome do like the romans. "You plan on singing?" as he
saw the Xo filling up the paper.
Zerin said, "We believe it is a way to attract people and maybe gather
information." Carsin and Sandrik nodded haplessly. It looked like Sandrik
was stuck with tambourine duty.
"I see, you braver than me and probably have more talent" he grin. "Want
to sit with us we're in the corner on the rigth"
Fell probably had more talent. Oh boy. Sandrik didn't have the heart to
tell him. Luckily, there were three more acts ahead of them.
A tall Bajoran in a trench coat stepped up to the stage. "Looks like the
audience here's got a FEEEEEE-VAH!" he declared.
"Oh no," Zerin muttered. "I don't like where this is going."
"And I've got the prescription--MORE COWBELL!" The Bajoran whipped a
drumstick and cowbell out of his trench coat. Under the coat, he was
wearing jockey shorts and a belt that said, THE NAKED VEDEK.
Mike was making his way to the table when the Bajoran was speaking. But
when he saw Carol face almost drop to ground he had the instinct to turn
his head toward the stage, decision he regretted almost instantly. " What
in gods name..."
Tol smile "That's what i'm talking about, stupid entertainment, yah!"
His voice was drowned out by a banging cowbell and half-shouted, halfsung vocals. Nobody did much talking for the next minute or so because
nobody could hear anybody over the cowbell.
Mike almost threw the beer mug in front of him but decided against.
Zerin had to cover her ears. Wasn't anyone going to hook this guy? The
answer was, "clearly not."
Mike manage to sit beside the Carol almost deaf.
"Aaaaaaaaaand next up, Caroline England!"
" What a bunch of stupid acts" Said Carol
"Their awesome, what are you talking about, a bunch of idiots thinking
their the next best thing" Tol started to laugh.
" The Xo is next" was the answer from Mike. Tol smile change into a
concern look.
"Ohhh..." Carol turn silent.
"Yeah" was the only answer that Mike could give them.
"She can't be that bad, can she?" As he look at the two other confused.
Nobody answer as they decided to see first.
Zerin cleared her throat and looked over at Sandrik. And they began to
play a Zerin Fell original, something called "Lucy in the Sky with
Tribbles." A piece written for guitar, voice, and tambourine.
The look on the medical team told all. "I least their trying" said Tol.
"Well...they're the best group so far" answer back Mike.
"Would you shut up! Have a bit of respect" Carol said annoy about the
comments.
Tol and Mike look at each other, asking themself silently if she enjoy
the group that much?
Surprisingly enough, Zerin and Sandrik's performance attracted people
from outside. Mostly people saying, "Those are the same buskers I saw an
hour ago. Isn't there a way to keep these musicians off Scavenger's Hub?"
"They ain't got that swing," said the Naked Vedek.
"You think? They're attracting people" said Carol. Mike was looking at
her hoping she wouldn't say anything they would regret.
"You gonna go up there?" the Naked Vedek asked.
"Us, nooo, we're here for the beer and to admire the great talent of this
place" said Tol trying to resist to laugh.
"You're been performing here for long?" Ask Mike
"I've been playin' Scavenger Hub for a long time," the Vedek replied.
"This lady here took my favorite curb site, though." He pointed at Zerin.
"I see" looking at Zerin. Did he have any information as Mike debate if
he needed to respond.
"You go girl!" Tol screamed as he was dancing with a woman nobody even
saw.
Carol seem more furious than ever to see Tol acting this way. "Would you
sit down!" she said not happy of his initiative.
Sandrik continued his rudimentary tambourine banging. He'd never imagined
the Ops Queen's guitar playing would inspire dancing, but still, he
noticed that the bar had more people since the cowbell player had left
the stage. What was wrong with Nurse Ingrams, anyway?
Tol was still dancing when a drunk came closer to Carol and ask her "Hey
lucky babe want to be with this nice piece of meat?"
Carol look at him as she raise her hand, Mike at the speed of ligth
caugth her hand and got up while saying " She was on her way with me"
"You prefer him, too bad for you " the drunk said before going.
It was twice now that the men in question laught about Mike being a man,
was he that small. But he wasn't prepare at all for what happen next.
"Thanks" Carol was now looking directly at Mike.
"No problem" He smile and let go of her arm.
" No, you told him you would dance" as she wink.
Mike was shock not able to say anything he followed her and starting
dancing. They expression on Tol face was undescribtable.
Evar Carsin was feeling kind of grumpy. Where was the female
companionship in this place, anyway?
And then Zerin and Sandrik's song--thankfully--ended. There was some
half-enthused clapping, and then some lady got up to read poetry.
"Anybody learned anything so far?" Zerin asked them.
"Only that you're more popular then the naked guy" said Mike.
"You we're good" said Tol "even made a girlfriend" that when Carol gave
him a nudge.
"Any luck on you're side?"
Zerin shook her head. "I wish. At least we got some spare change out of
all this."
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's quarters =/\=
The pleasant face of a youngish Vulcan woman appeared on Mort's
viewscreen.
"Lieutenant Feldman?" she inquired.
"Yes..." Mort answered, fumbling while putting on his bathrobe. "Yes,
that's right. I assume you are responding to my request?"
"Indeed, we have received your inquiries. You are most persistant."
Mort took it as a compliment. "Thank you."
I am the personal assistant of the head of the Xenoathropology division,
S'tork cha'Stellen. He has been looking into the incident you referred
to. I must say, he has been...personally affected by it. He can only give
you a moment of his time. He has not been himself, you see."
Even through the cool words Mort sensed a strong feeling of
protectiveness in the woman. "I appreciate any help he can give."
The woman's face left the screen and in a moment was replaced by an
ancient Vulcan male, his face brown and wrinkled, weathered by two
centuries of his planet's arid heat.
His frazzled white hair looked as though it had been styled by a small
explosion.
"I'm Doctor S'tork, head of the Xenoanthropology division of the Vulcan
Academy of Sciences. Now what can I do for you?"
Mort was puzzled. He never knew Vulcans to try to play coy before. "I
think you know doctor."
S'tork blinked but remained silent.
"Ok, I'll spell it out for you. I'm looking for information. As you have
undoubtably been told, WE have found a ship that made its way to our
starbase, containing eight humanoid life forms. At least they were alive.
They appear deceased, but are in a state of total preservation. Sound
familiar?"
"Yes I have been made familiar with your circumstances."
"What I meant was, I understand that a similiar incident happened here
and that you have been looking into it? A complete report about what
happened with the ship in question would really help us."
"It is not our policy to comment on research projects as they are
undertaken. All I can say is our investigation is ongoing."
Mort noticed the academician turned a bit red as he said this last bit,
as if he was doing something that caused him extreme distaste. "Doctor, I
must insist. This is a federation matter. All our attempts to locate the
source of the ship or bodies has failed, but something is preserving them
and protecting them. We were unable to perform autopsies, for example."
"Our initial attempts were equally futile," S'tork intoned.
At last, some information, Mort thought. He studied the elderly Vulcan a
moment, and was shocked to see a twinge of a grin starting to form. It
was suppressed just as quickly. "If we could share what you know with us,
and vice versa, we might get somewhere with this."
"You don't understand. There is nothing to be done!" S'tork had lost
patience much quicker than a normal Vulcan. He pointed a menacing finger,
and shook it wildly. "You...you..."
Mort held up his hand. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're not going to
say "you are all dead men" or something stupid like that, are you? I'm on
starbase Bob, buddy. Been there done that."
His wild eyes flashed. "Dead? No, NO! Far worse than that!" The Vulcan
was on the verge of losing complete control.
"Worse!?" Mort exclaimed.
The S'tork suddenly dissolved in a fit of mad laughter. Even Mort was
shocked at such behavior from a Vulcan. So was, apparently, his
assistant, who intervened immediately.
Stork was moved uncerimoniously out of camera view, and was replaced with
the worried visage of the assistant. "I'm Sorry, Mr. Feldman. That's all
the time the doctor can give to you."
S'torks laughing fit could still be heard in the background.
"I...I'm sorry if I upset him..." Mort stammered.
"Its all right, like I said, he has not been himself lately. His sleep
patterns..." She looked like she wanted to say more, but needed to hold
back for some reason. "Goodbye Mr. Feldman."
And with that, the comm ended.
Well, how do you like that? Mort thought that was just about the
strangest communication he ever had, professionally. And he hadn't
learned all that much more.
Mort yawned. Funny, he had just been asleep and yet was feeling tired
again. The comic lay back down and was snoozing peacefully within
seconds.
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue...earth -=She had made it back. Just about. Was amazing what flirting with a work
experience student at the transporter centre could do. Acacia Avenue was
bathed in the ochre light of dusk as she walked up the drive. All very
sedate and suburban. All very unsuspecting.
Rifling through her pockets, she realised was locked out. Tara and Clarke
had waited so patiently in letting her grab somethings, but it had all
been a waste.Picking up a pebble, Arihana aimed for the window of her
basement study. The noise of the shattering would cause a few curtains to
twitch, and later Mrs. Wyndom-Smyth from number thirty would ring and see
what the fuss was all about.
Clearing away the glass, Arihana lowered herself feet first into the
house. The alarms were going off, flashing red and black. "Oww," her
ankle buckled as she landed on the carpet.
In sparkle of transporter light, a Marine in full combat gear appeared in
the hallway. The visor of the helmet slid up as the rifle took aim,
revealing a familiar face. Cade Vaughan's face twisted in a snarl. "Yo
picked tha wrong house ta burgle, innit. I'll give yo all of 10 seconds
to get yo pasty ass back outta that winda before I make yo look like a
vera ugla lump'a Swiss cheese."
"To think this is the one place that hasn't been robbed lately."Hobbling
over to her desk, Arihana disabled the alarm. "Only I do need to annoy
the Real McCoy."
As she hit the controls, the holographic Cade Vaughan disappeared in
another sparkle of fake transporter effect. Was a perk of being a member
of the appreciation society, even if accent was way off target.
Next to a picture of Suraj was the panel of speed dials. The first and
foremost was labelled M.Trouble. An index finger, complete with chipped
nail pressed the button to make the call. The room was filled with the
James Bond theme tune. How she had laboured to find the right one, had
been a play off between this and Indiana Jones at Surajs' behest. The one
for the CO, that involved Star Wars. Could have been worse, Suraj had
suggested the Sugar Plum fairy for some strange reason.
"C'mon, Major," Arihana sat back to flick away chips of glass from her
shoulders. "Hope you're not using your spine, as I need to pick a bone
with you."
Back on BoB, Cade cracked an eye open as his personal comm screen blinked
at him. It must be something important to get him up at... He glanced at
the clock and rotated himself upward so that he was sitting on the edge
of his bed. He scratched his head and yawned before tapping the 'ACCEPT
CALL' button. "To what do I owe the honour at three o'clock in the
morning?"
"Major Vaughan, the man, the legend, the superhero," Arihana arched a
brow. "Howyer doing?" she asked, supressing a smirk.
"Sleeping," he said, still trying to comprehend the image of Arihana on
the screen. "What's wrong?"
"Don't know whether to kiss you, or kill you, Cade. Your Ex-wife is
delightful," she stated sardonicly.
Now, he chuckled. "Ahh. I was suspecting this call. I thought the two of
you would get along well enough."
"Didn't realise how well you know me," shuffling in her seat, Arihana
sighed deeply. "I'm dying to know what my favourite colour is."
"It's Marine green," he said matter-of-factly. "Why do I think that you
didn't call me at this ungodly hour to discuss my ex?"
"Like I got nothing better to do than stalk you," Arihana shook her head.
"If this has disturbed your beauty sleep, Taff, my profuse apologies."
"Out with it, luv. You may not be in my command anymore, but you're still
a friend, and I'll help you if it's within my power."
"Hmph, help," Arihana tutted. "I'm being babysat by the Infatigueable
former Missis Vaughan. I'm gonna go mad. That or slap her one."
Cade grinned at her attitude. "I wouldn't suggest the latter. She hits
back rather hard.... A feat that I can most assuredly attest to." He
stopped smiling. "So, what trouble are you in that requires my ex-wife's
not inconsiderable talents?"
"Some random odd job who keeps messing around with the security services
and now reckons I'm fair game, but anyway," Arihana waved a hand. "Back
to your Tara...."
"Not mine anymore, Arihana. We ended that a long time ago."
"Still uses your surname, so still yours. Ammunition, if you would be so
kind," she arched a brow to grin.
"I don't think that would necessarily be the right thing to do in this
situation, Oh Great and Esteemed Formor Counselor." He winked at the
screen. "She knows where I live."
"Fairs fair, Major," Arihana poked out her tongue. "She knows enough
about me 'cause you primed her enough to know what my bank account number
is. I know nothing about her, other than her being the recipitant of a
palimony cheque every now and again."
"Actually, I don't pay her anything... She was always the more marketable
of the pair." He smiled at Dharma's consternation. "And, yes, I did tell
her a few odd bits and parts to help her deal with you because, as we
both know, you're not exactly the easiest to deal with when it comes to
authority figures."
"Please, please, please," Arihana squinted. "Something, anything, dirt of
some description. Tell me something vaguely viable and the Cade Vaughan
Appreciation Society will leave you alone for a week."
"The what?!?!?!"
"There is a hit out on your boxers, long story," she replied shrugging.
"So please, spill."
Cade faked pressing a button on a personal recorder. "Note to self:
booby-trap underwear drawer with claymore mine." He stared at Arihana.
"What exactly are you looking for? About the worst thing I can say about
her is that her choice in men is apparently lacking considerably if you
look at who she married. And now you're telling me that there's a secret
society at work on the station?"
"I am." Arihana grinned back. "According to the CVAS code of conduct,
that's allowed."
~What is this place coming to?~ A slight smile came to his lips. "Her
biggest weakness is the same as mine, and that's the only hint that I'll
give you."
"Cryptic Cade," Arihana rolled her eyes, "Master of intrigue. A crate of
Johnny Walker, then. You're giving me nothing concrete. I have no insight
into your mindset, so that makes me toothless in trying to understand
her. All I'm asking for is an inch, then I can take a mile."
"Think of her as a mother bear, Arihana. You know those nature shows? The
moronic guy with the camera gets between the mother and her cubs and
nearly gets ripped limb from limb because he's a potential threat to the
offspring?" He smiled and waggled his eyebrows slightly. "You're one of
her cubs now, Arihana, and she'll give up her life to save yours if it
becomes necessary."
"Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," Arihana smiled back. "Knowing
that you have extended your long arm across the universe to safeguard my
well being in the form of one Tara Vaughan."
"I don't have that many friends, kiddo. I would prefer that the few
remaining ones aren't liquidated by knuckleheads trying in vain to change
the face of the universe."
"Appreciate you giving me nothing to go on, so much so..."looking to the
side, Arihana pulled up the minutes from the CVAS meeting. "Now, who do
we betray? The man, the legend, the superhero. Or his shady fan club."
"At least if I've got a fan club, it's a shady one." He leaned toward the
screen for a moment and narrowed his eyes at her. "And why are you in the
know about this secret society?"
"I am member for purely professional reasons," her gaze flickered down
the minutes. "They want your body. I want your brain," she was trying to
decide what she should divulge without having to refund her membership
fees.
Knowing that he was falling directly into the line of conversation that
she wanted, he demanded anyway, "Details on this 'Fan Club' forthwith,
dear Dharma."
Sitting back, Arihana crossed her arms to look at Cade again. "You can
look after yourself," she smirked, rather enjoying this. "You really
don't want to know what the CVAS got planned for their Godhead. Like I
care if your boxers go missing. Like I care if they lace your Johnny
Walker with bootleg potato ponteen."
"Booby trap the sideboard with a plasma grenade as well, then, I
suppose." He shook his head, wondering how much of the conversation
Arihana had pulled out of her lovely posterior.
"I appreciate you pulling strings for me, Cade," Arihana stopped smiling.
"Not many would. Anyways, we've had this conversation. The one where if
you ever needed rescuing, I'm number ninety-two on those one hundred that
would come running. But the boxers. Next time you do your laundry. Count
them."
"Gonna have to stop sending it out to be done," he murmurred. "And what
other brands of nefarious activity are planned?"
"Well, they plan to nab a pair of red ones, stick em on a flag pole on
the promenade with the words 'game over' on them.Crap..."she winced and
closed her eyes. "I really shouldn't have told you that."
"No, you probably shouldn't have." He arched a single eyebrow in her
direction. "But, you're dying to tell me more," he added in his best
Jedi-Mind-Trick voice.
"I am member for purely professional reasons," her gaze flickered down
the minutes. "They want your body. I want your brain," she was trying to
decide what she should divulge without having to refund her membership
fees.
Knowing that he was falling directly into the line of conversation that
she wanted, he demanded anyway, "Details on this 'Fan Club' forthwith,
dear Dharma."
Sitting back, Arihana crossed her arms to look at Cade again. "You can
look after yourself," she smirked, rather enjoying this. "You really
don't want to know what the CVAS got planned for their Godhead. Like I
care if your boxers go missing. Like I care if they lace your Johnny
Walker with bootleg potato ponteen."
"Booby trap the sideboard with a plasma grenade as well, then, I
suppose." He shook his head, wondering how much of the conversation
Arihana had pulled out of her lovely posterior.
"I appreciate you pulling strings for me, Cade," Arihana stopped smiling.
"Not many would. Anyways, we've had this conversation. The one where if
you ever needed rescuing, I'm number ninety-two on those one hundred that
would come running. But the boxers. Next time you do your laundry. Count
them."
"Gonna have to stop sending it out to be done," he murmurred. "And what
other brands of nefarious activity are planned?"
"Well, they plan to nab a pair of red ones, stick em on a flag pole on
the promenade with the words 'game over' on them.Crap..."she winced and
closed her eyes. "I really shouldn't have told you that."
"No, you probably shouldn't have." He arched a single eyebrow in her
direction. "But, you're dying to tell me more," he added in his best
Jedi-Mind-Trick voice.
"I know nothing," in something of a blind panic, random buttons were
pressed on the console." ...and I just sent you the back issues of the
minutes...."there was a tirade of profanities under her breath. "See, I
will never learn. Why do I always tell you stuff I shouldn't?" Sitting
back, she was more than annoyed at herself.
"Because, luv, confession is good for the soul." ~Thank St. David that I
don't take my own advice.~ He glanced at the data packet she'd sent him
by accident. "This should make some interesting bed time reading."
"You just go back to sleep," Arihana replied. "In the morning, this will
all just be a bad dream," she crossed her fingers in hope.
He glanced at the clock. "It's already morning and I shan't be heading
back to dreamland anytime soon."
"Go.To.Sleep. Just. A. Dream. A.Bad.One."
"Don't work on me, Counselor. I'm immune, remember?" He smiled and reaced
for the control panel. "Good day to you, Arihana. Stay in one piece for
me, yeah?"
"Night, Major, sleep tight and hope the fan club don't bite," she grinned
to close the channel. "You'll need a rabies shot."
"Got the booster during my annual physical," he said as the screen went
blank. He shook his head and fell backward onto the bed, debating with
whether or not to get another 90 minutes of sleep or just start working.
The decision was made for him when the comm channel started bleeping
again. He sat back up and tapped the panel. "Yeah?"
"Is that how you answer your communications now, darling?"
Cade smiled wryly and then hung his head for a moment. "So, either this
is a hell of a coincidence, which neither of us believe in, or you tapped
Dr. Dharma's communication panel."
Tara shrugged with a noncommittal look on her face. "Ahh, guilty as
charged, Your Honour. I didn't listen in, though, when I saw who she was
calling."
"Before you ask, she was looking for dirt on you, m'dear." It was his
turn to shrug. "I gave her nothing."
"I figured that." She paused for a long moment. "You're playing a
dangerous game, Cade. Be careful."
He grimaced at the warning. "I'm only doing what I have to do. And it's
no more than what we've both done in past."
"You're playing both sides against the middle, and it's not going to end
well if there's any sort of a slip up." The look of concern grew on her
face. "You have no room for error."
"I rarely have, dear."
She sighed deeply. "I know. It's just...."
He smirked. "Yeah." His eyes softened a little. "How's Dylan?" From
there, the conversation ran the gamut from family and friends to each of
their work. Two hours later, he closed the channel and glanced at his
clock. "I guess confession is good for the soul. I'm not completely full
of shit," he said to no one in particular as he stood up and padded
across the room towards the shower.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Scavengers Hub - "The Dog & Pizzle" =/\=
Jinti was happy. Happy in a many-pints-later sort of way, topped off with
a fine foaming head of "good-business-opportunity" type of way.
She and Richards had sunk a goodly quantity of Achin' Porpoise, before
discovering to their delight that the beer was unique, brewed only on
Jackson's Whole.
"Yar. We got more if you likes," the grizzled barkeep had informed them.
"I'll try whatever's goin'," Jinti gave a little hiccup.
"Yeah. What the chief said," Richards gave a muzzy smile as he slammed
his empty pint down on the counter-top.
The barkeep duly filled up their pint mugs, "Frickin Flying Altbeir," he
announced.
Jinti wasn't sure if it was a name or an expleteive, but it tasted fine.
"A cheeky li'l brew," she giggled.
"Yesh," was Richards contribution.
"This one's got some bite to it, yar," the barkeep rpoudly poured a new
round. "Finnigan and Buddha's Wobbly Brown Ale."
"MmmHmm.. yeah, the clue's in the title," Jinti was definately a bit
wobbly on her feet by then.
"Oh yeah," Richards had got the giggles now, and grabbed the bartop hard
in an attempt to stay upright.
The mugs were agin drained and Jinti's mug was waved around somewhat
dangerously for those in the immediate vicinity, "What's next, barkeep?
Keep 'em comin' We gotta thirst on us."
"This one's a bit dry, but some swear by it," the barkeep poured from a
drawn jug. "Beige Craptacular Barrel Extra Special Bitter. The old-timers
here drink it by the barrelful."
"Craptacular spectacular," Richards slurred into his mug, rivulets of the
ale dribbling down him chin. "Oh *yeah*."
"More," Jinti slammed her mug on the top. "One more fer the road."
"The finest bew, nutty and well matured in casks of bam-wood," the
barkeep was happy to keep supplying them. "Ancient Shlong Dubble. Brewed
on Jacksons Whole for over a hundred years."
Jinti and Richards just made appreciative 'arghle flumple' noises.
-= Two hours later =Jinti raised her head off the table. "Wuz I asleep?" she looked around,
bewildered.
"Wha? Huh? Mm? Yeah. Probably," Richards stared bleary-eyed around him.
"Chief, I don't even *remember* sitting down. "
"Nor me. Jeez, whut wuz that last brew? Scholg Dubble? Darn dangerous
stuff. I'd love some fer the secret still..."
"Can we afford it?" Richards could feel the start of a headache thumping
at the back of his eyeballs. "Remember we're supposed to be gathering
information first."
"Naaaaah, we gotta lay down our cover furst, establish ourselves, sorta,"
Jinti didn't want to shake her head in case it fell off.
"MMmph..." the conversation was in danger of becoming very monosyballic
again. "I suppose, yes."
"I dunno if'n we needs to pay," Jinti's eyes lit up. "I reckon barter
might be the way ta go..."
Three hours later, they set off from the Dog & Pizzle escorting a very
wobbly anti-grav sled, upon which was balanced a barrel of Craptacular
Extra Special Bitter and a barrel of Ancient Shlong Dubble.
The deal had ben struck in exchange for just one barrel of the Lytozians
home-brewed hooch.
"That was one heck of a story you told about the giant aliens," Richards
laughed quietly. "Quite an adventure. And you didn't even blow our cover
once."
"Prolly coz ya kept kickin' my shins every time I nearly slipped up,"
Jinti grumbled. "But yeah, I figgured once they knew how rare it wuz, the
barkeep would do good biznizz if'n he had some. These guys, they're
conny-sorz, see."
"Yeah, not bad for an evenings work," the sled weaved it's way alongside
the two unsteady Starfleeters. "So what now?"
"We gets this back ta the ship, stows it away, brings 'em back a barrel
of hooch, and then gets some shut-eye. We c'n start again tomorrow, and
mebbe ask a few questions at the same time."
"Sounds like a plan," Richards blinked in the falling dusk. "You know
that Jadi is going to be complaining that we're smelling of beer?"
"Hey, I brought her a mug of Wobbly Buddha," Jinti waved said mug around.
"If'n she's *really8 lucky I ain't gonna have gone an' drunk it by the
time we gets back...."
=^= Quarter =^=
Strangely enough François had alot of sleep lately, he got full
confidence that the staff took thing into their own hand. He didn't think
that his work would impact his health that much. He slept everywhere it
was almost embarrassing, but once again the staff understood and even
sent him back to his quarter. Once in it he immediately went to bed to
wake up after a few hours. He had the idea to bring hypospray into his
quarter in case the sleep came to persistent but up to now sleep was
good. talking about sleep it was 7 p.m. time for bed. He got comfortable
and didn't put the alarm since he didn't have anything important the next
morning. As his eye close his dream began again.
He was in front of a crowd, he could here some questions he finally
realize he was in front of the podium with a plaque in his hand.
"Thank you, thank you very much. I would like to thanks the station,
Starfleet and all my family for the support" He could see his parent ,
his mom crying.
Someone stood up " How does it feel to have your project save lives?"
"Well the fact that it saves lives is fantastic"
Another almost scream " Were did the idea came from?"
"From trips in Africa and the believe that plant and earth could and will
heal itself and others"
"can you comment on your goal now?"
He look at the journalist " Vacation" everyone laugh with him " I plan
trying to modify DNA of other species to save other but I'll keep the
secret for now"
"Being so isolated in that station, was it beneficial?"
"the station had the expertise and the flexibility to help me with the
research"
"Do you think that the new investment of startfleet to make the station
*up to date* for defense and research will be welcome"
"Of course I think that Starfleet need that type of station" He smile
knowing that the captain would be please to have only Starfleet and
marine personnel on the station.
"Will you be returning to the station?"
"I don't know, I'm looking at all the options and will take my decision
shortly, thank you" And was on his way to leave the stage.
When he came down behind the red curtain he never seen so many top
official in a room. They were clamping hand, he smile it was different
but still impressive. One admiral shook his hand and the doctor nodded as
he pass by. Another gave him champagne and they toast to the success.
A admiral came closer "Did you think to me offer"
"I did, do you really think I'm the man for the job"
"You have the rank, you have the experience and the qualification."
"The experience, I never had a starship under my command before?"
"It's just like running a project, you have the military background, the
scientific background and the leadership son, take it" the admiral smile
"It's huge, a nebula class, for defense and exploration...I mean you
could have a better captain right now" he was hesitant
"If we choose you, it's because we trust that you can do what you did at
the station, make a impact"
He look into the admiral eye " Then you better prepare the paperwork, but
I choose my staff, agreed?"
"Agreed" The admiral walk in the middle of the room " Attention, your
attention please, after talking to commander bonne.....
His eye open, "no" he missed the best part, he didn't see the ship. He
look at the clock, the alarm was off, how come? he needed to go see is
plant, that's the only way to succeed and have his own starship, that was
only a dream he said to himself. He got up and got dress not knowing his
he preferred this life to the captain life of a nebula class.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"Captain... Captain! Are you okay?"
"Mm? What?" Mulder raised her head off her arms and looked bemused.
Surely she'd only dozed off for a few minutes. "Yes? Who is it?"
"Yeoman Wagstaff, ma'am. I've been ringing your doorchime for the last
five minutes. Sorry."
"Oh. Right. Enter," Mulder shook her head to clear it.
Damn. It had been such a wonderful dream, too. The Federation had just
opted to adopt the Jaz'Aarian legal system. Right at that moment, all
telepaths were being rounded up and returned to their own homeworld. No
more mind-meddlers to catch the unwary out with their mental invasions.
It was wonderful.
"Like *that's* going to happen.." she sighed.
"Pardon?" the yeoman stood in the doorway, confused.
"Come along in," Mulder said sharply. "What did you want?"
Unused to such a tone from the normally laid-back CO, Wagstaff approached
hesitantly. "Just the afternoon's duty logs to sign off. And I've filed a
copy of Commander Mattingly's personnel review. And there was an autoreminder in your schedule about contacting the DTI."
"Screw them," Mulder muttered. The Yeoman had interrupted her dream for
*that*? "Okay, reports. Hand them over."
She practically snatched the Padd out of the poor woman's hand, and
scrolled through quickly, just speed-reading and signing as she went.
"There. Done."
"Thanks," the Yeoman's eyes flickered towards the door. "Is that all,
ma'am?"
"Yes. Go.. go..." Mulder waved her away.
After Wagstaff had scurried out, Mulder laid her head back down on her
folded arms. Just a few more minutes. Bloody hell, she worked hard enough
around here. She could take a little nap and escape into dreamland for
once, couldn't she?
Struggling back upright she gave a heavy sigh. Probably
through the rest of the workload. Then she could have a
It was admittedly a little odd that she was dreaming so
but since her dreams were the stuff of magical delight,
well go with the flow.
better get
nice early night.
often these days,
then might as
It beat the nightmare of everyday living, that was for sure.
She remembered that she needed to check with Mort to see what, if
anything, his further investigations had brought. Also with Yus. And as
for the bodies themselves.. she wondered if she was denying Dr Bonnenfant
the chance to properly examine them by keeping them on the ship.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to transfer a couple of the bodies to the lab in
the Infirmary, where he could examine them with his full range of
equipment.
She tapped her commbadge. "Mulder to the Infirmary. Doctor Bonnenfant, I
think it's safe to transport a couple of the alien bodies into the
Infirmary. Take just one male and one female - and set them up where you
can examine them more fully. I'll probably be along tomorrow, and check
on them. Keep them isolated from the rest of the Infirmary for now, but I
don't think they're poisonous or anything. Should be okay. Mulder out."
She closed the comm. That was enough work for now. She'd earned another
little sleep after that.
Closing her eyes again, she was soon enjoying the delights of a telepathfree universe...
=^= Infirmary =^=
"Mulder to the Infirmary. Doctor Bonnenfant, I think it's safe to
transport a couple of the alien bodies into the Infirmary. Take just one
male and one female - and set them up where you can examine them more
fully. I'll probably be along tomorrow, and check on them. Keep them
isolated from the rest of the Infirmary for now, but I don't think
they're poisonous or anything. Should be okay. Mulder out." That was what
wake him up, finally something to get him going, he had a hard time to
get up and running, sleep was always so attractive, nothing beat being a
captain and married to the one he love. He decided to go look for a room
for the new resident of the infirmary.
The more he though about it, the more she seem tired on the comm, she
should start sleeping like he does it would be a matter. Still searching
for a perfect place for the bodies , he finally came to a empty room with
two bio bed. this part of the infirmary was going to become private rooms
in the new plans he had draw and was being finance by his shop. He mad
sure to clean and disinfect the room appropriately so that nothing could
damage the bodies. He then ask the nurse to quarantine the room and to
stop anyone except him and the captain to gain access to the room.
He then decided to bring any piece of equipment , monitors and devices he
had, no chance to take and no time to be running around once they arrive.
He wanted everything close and accessible since he plan not to let anyone
close to them except maybe the BOFF team if need be. Their also the
captain, she would come for a report tomorrow probably, that meant to get
everything in order and ready to go before she came.
He remember how he flew on the wall when he tried a bio, he was now
trying to elaborate a plan not to get thrown like a piece of paper lost
in a gust of wind. Maybe he would try to talk to them, it's not like
nobody else would be there to judge him. Maybe they wanted to be ask
permission, he would if he was in the same scenario. He shook his head,
he was really going crazy, speak to dead bodies because you felt like
some spirits were flying around the room. It was more a movie scenario
than reality, but he would keep that in mind for plan Z in case
everything fail he would have his last resort.
After plugging and fixing all the devices and monitors the room seem
really smaller but still had that little welcome environment, he was
please about that part. If they were alive but outside their body they
would see that his trying to make them comfortable, maybe they would let
him explore a bit more before throwing him against the closest wall. It's
at that point he realize that incident really affected him, he referred
to it at least three times up to now, but how often his your doctor
thrown on the wall, he should be expecting that on the field, he should
had been more prepared he tough. Did it matter? probably, the story would
unfold and he would have more information to deal with it.
He sent the request for a transport at the location. He sat down, he had
time for a quick snooze before they came anyway.
=^= Security office -^=
Lt. Cdr. Baxter Mattingly was needing a nap. So far today, he'd managed
to sleep about five times and it was only 1000. In a few minutes he was
going to call Snell and put him to work following Jyan. Baxter just
didn't have the strength today. He wanted sleep. And he wanted those
dreams. They were becoming so vivid and entertaining. They were almost,
but not quite, as good as Yus for entertainment.
He pulled a report closer to him. It was dull. He sighed and picked up
some chocolate. It tasted so good. His last dream had been of being in a
chocolate factory. He could still smell it, still taste it. He closed his
eyes.
"Sir," a voice said in his ear. "Can you check out the file on that
civilian who painted the walls of the women's bathroom black yesterday?"
"Huh?" Baxter asked jerking awake. "Sure. You get it. It's right over
there."
"You okay Sir?" she asked.
"Yes, but I think I'll take a little walk to clear my head," Baxter said.
He got up and went down the hall. He continued until he came to his
favorite chocolate stash. It was dark and cozy. He pulled out some
chocolate and leaned against a crate. His eyes closed. He was in a jungle
with Aztecs. They were explaining to him how much chocolate they
harvested every week and Baxter was telling them how to do it faster and
better. They were about to hand him a sample when ...
"Sir!" a Klingon said in his ear. "I need you to initial these release
forms."
"Huh?" Baxter asked reluctantly waking up. "Sure."
He initialed without reading them. "I'm going to do a little patroling,"
he said. "Let me know if there's any trouble."
Baxter walked away. The Klingon watched him and shook his head.
It was about 10 minutes later that Baxter sat down in what he thought was
a quiet spot in the arboretum. The scent of the flowers drifted to him.
He yawned. He was sleepy again. He hadn't really gotten very far. He'd
just close his eyes.... He was back in the jungle and the Aztecs had
decided he was a white god. They were bringing him tons of chocolate dark, light, white, milk - they were keeping it coming and coming. He
began to drool.
"Sir," a voice said, "we need you to talk to that little girl who's lost.
She keeps biting me. Can you do that?"
"Huh?" Baxter asked shaking his head. "Sure, where is she?"
"Right outside, Sir," she said.
Baxter got up, yawned and went to talk to the girl. A few minutes later
she was with her mother and Baxter was headng back to his office. Maybe
he could get some sleep there. Would the day never end?
He punched the communicator to contact Snell.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Jackson's Whole =/\=
The bar of the Frog & Nightgown was humming with life, and overlaid with
the sweaty smell of unwashed labourers. A fog of tobacco smoke hung over
the room, and Chess shouldered her duffle bag as she approached the bar.
"Got rooms?" she asked bluntly.
The skinny serving girl gave a smile which displayed very bad teeth.
"Sure. Single? Double?"
"Double. Who knows?" Chess smirked.
The girl took the payment for a week's rental and offered food. Chess
decided that anything the place served up would probably be filling but
awful, and was pleasantly surprised when a plate of cold cuts of meat,
tangy pickle and fresh-baked bread arrived. "Looks good," she commented
briefly before taking a bite.
The girl hovered, "Yeah. We do okay here. Mister Jackson says it's no
good serving rubbish."
"Jackson? As in Jackson of Jackson's Whole?" Chess looked casually
interested. "He owns this place then?"
"Not really, no. Havelock Burke owns the place. But Mister Jackson, he
oversees everything, got a reputation to keep up, see. It's his
heritage," the girl announced with pride.
"Oh right, yeah," Chess feigned disinterest. "I guess he knows everything
that goes on around here?"
"Nothing happens without him knowing, so they say." The girl gave a smug
smile. "I know that you're the captain of the civilian freetrader ship
that docked recently. Words gets around."
"Does it now..." Chess toyed with a piece of meat. This was interesting.
Their arrival had been noted all the way to the top. "So what's the
custom around here? Should I go and say hello to this Jackson guy or
something?"
The girl shrugged, "Depends. He lives just on the edge of town. You can't
miss it. Big old mansion, some say it's been here for hundreds of years.
Right back to when his family first built it."
"And does Mister Jackson do much trading himself these days?" Chess
decided to push forward a little. "Like, important stuff?"
The girl took a step backwards, "Dunno," she cast a nervous glance over
her shoulder. "Dunno about that. Maybe Havelock might know, or you could
visit Mister Jackson himself. I don't know about stuff, me. I'm just the
hired help."
"And very helpful you've been, too," Chess said dryly, throwing her a
slip of latinum. "Thanks. I'll call you if I need anything else."
As the girl scurried off, Chess's sharp eyesight caught a few looks being
cast her way. She turned with a smirk and raised her mug of beer in the
direction of the two men, who promptly turned away.
Let it unfold, she told herself. She could sense an undercurrent now, and
wondered if the rest of the crew were getting thin trails also.
Finishing her lunch, she pushed the plate away and stood up. Next stop,
checking into her room, and then maybe a few chats. Havelock Burke.
Mister Jackson. Stroll around town. Check out the warehouses again.
And subtly pick up the thread of the Resurrection casket, if it existed.
She was becoming more certain that *something* was going on...
-= Vega's Office =It was much more wonderful than what she'd thought it could be. Sitting
in her office, signing her reports, getting everything done. She was
ashamed that she didn't have anyone here to share it with. Men just
weren't the way to get to the top. So she'd moved them along, though some
would have been a most wonderful catch.
So now she looked at the men and women as they watched her do her job and
smiled. She was the first female, and the youngest at 40, to ever become
CinC. It was amazing, gettign that captainship after saving that admiral
from certain impalement while on BoB. And now she was here, six years
later.
"Warrant Officer Domingeus to Lt Vega..."
She woke up. And she immediately wanted back to sleep. SHe had even
locked her doors this time. "Go ahead."
"I've got a fight on the promenade. Could you be of assistance?"
"Now what's the rest fo the department going to think if I handle all the
calls," she said. She wanted to help him, but sleep was even better.
"Handle it and send me a report tonight."
"Yes ma'am. Are you all right ma'am?"
"Don't worry about me," she was getting irratated. "Just do as I said."
"Aye sir."
She got up and looked at the reports that were coming into her comm.
"Computer, stop all incoming calls to myself until further notice. If
anyone asks tell them I'm on an investigation."
[All incoming calls to Lt Vega have been halted.]
She smiled. Sleep....
And there she was again, back in her office.
=/\= B BoB - Mulder's quarters =/\=
"Go away! Stoppit!" Mulder groaned as a small wet nose pushed into her
chin. "Sherlock.. not now. Walkies later. I promise..."
She turned over, pulling the bedcover over her head. Damn dog. That dream
had been *incredible*.. and it had ended just a few damn moments too
early....
Sherlock bounded up onto the bed and started pawing at the bedcover.
"Oh for feks sake..." she hissed through gritted teeth. Why couldn't they
all just leave her *alone*? Surely she deserved a little peace and quiet.
"Right. I'm taking you to Uncle Snookums for the day," she patted his
head quickly. He was a lovely dog, but he didn't seem to understand that
sleep meant sleep.
She checked the time - she should have been on duty half an hour ago, but
it wasn't as if there was anything urgent on the agenda. Getting dressed
she wandered along to the arboretum and handed Sherlock over to Snookums.
If the big lizard was surprised by the Captain's absent-minded air, he
didn't comment.
Entering her office, she groaned at the sight of the Padds piling up.
She'd only clocked off an hour early yesterday, for goodness sakes.
Didn't people have anything better to do?
Within minutes, there was a tentative push of the entry-chime, and Yeoman
Wagstaff entered. "Captain, I was going to call to see if you were
okay.." she began.
Mulder gave her a cool stare.
"It's just that you're a bit later, later than usual I mean," the woman
looked tongue-tied.
"Oh, nothing to worry about," Mulder waved a hand airily. "I just had
some business in another part of the station. A CO's work is never done,
y'know?"
"Right," Wagstaff gave a hesitant smile. "Would you like to go through
those reports now? I can take them and file them right away.."
Mulder bit back a gfroan. This was getting insane - but it wouldn't do to
let Wagstaff know she wanted to sleep. She was the CO after all - had to
keep up appearances.
"Not right now, I'm expecting a few calls from Starbase Raven," she lied
expertly. "Come back in a few hours, we'll sort them out then, okay?"
"Sure thing, Captain," Wagstaff took herself off.
Mulder let out a little sigh of relief, and crossed the room to the
padded bench on the other side, where a few comfortable chairs were
arranged around a small table. That would give her an hour to take a
short nap, and then she'd do the reports.
Laying herself out, she grabbed a cushion to make a pillow. This was
easy, and this was the way it should be. Somewhere in the back of her
mind was the thought that she needed to speak with Francois, and with
Mort, and with Yus.... but that could wait a while.
Later. She'd sort it later.
Smothering a yawn, she closed her eyes, willing herself into dreamland,
drifting off to sleep with a smile on her face.
=^= Infirmary , Special room =^-=
He open one eyes in the middle of his dream to see that the bodies had
already arrive on the biobed. His first reaction was to close back his
eye and then jump on his feet realizing what just happen. "Wake up, wake
up, wake up". Sleeping on the job seem harder and harder to control. He
pass his hand through his hair to try to wake him up and yawn deeply.
"Hey, hello guys" talking to dead bodies was his plan Z he realize but
seem more fun then just plugging a bunch of machine on their body.
"So Monique, can I call you Mon, alrigth then" He started to put the
different device always reluctant to get to close to the bodies in case
of a discharge. "Come on Monique , don't be like that, you don't want
your special doctor on a wall with broken bones do you?"
After installing the biofunctional monitor, even if they didn't have a
pulse, you never know the spirits may decide to come and cruise him, he
must have a effect on Monique spirit "Beau gosse" he told himself
smilling. Then he put the K3 indicator, the had no pain that for sure,
well after hearing him say stupidities for a while they wish they
could...
Neurocortical moniter, electron resonance scanner , hyperencephalogram
and other equipment. He realise that the body was covered with different
monitor or piece of equipment but they'll all register nothing. "Well
your dead Monique but you're pretty looking babe, Mike migth had a kick
on you" Maybe a little flirt would make a difference but nothing happen.
Before going to do the male, he decide to take a little break, he sat on
his chair, cross his hand and close his eyes. He got into that dream of
where he was in that beautiful vineyard...
=^= A few hours later =^=
He open his eyes because a sound, he had drop his tricorder that he was
holding, he should had put it in his pocket like he habitually do. He got
up and move toward the male body. "Well, Well John how the bed?
Confortable?" He started to put the same type of equipment with the same
result. He decided it might be time to call the captain for her report.
Report that would say nothing except that they were actually dead. He
lower the ligth and went back to his chair. She was probably busy with
reports so he wouldn't disturb her.
He press his comm abdge "Nurse Viviane"
"Yes doctor"
"Make sure I'm not disturb, I want to prepare this for the captain and I
need time"
"Not a problem" That was strange the doctor never gave her that type of
order before, he must had been really concentrated on the bodies.
François back on his chair making sure he wasn't holding anything and let
his dream start back....
=^= BoB - Francois' Quarters =^=
The doctor decide to have a bit of social since he seem to be sleeping
most of his free time. He needed once and for all to say openly to
someone that he loved captain Mulder. Snookums and Sybil's were good
lisentner but were to phylosophical about the hole thing. He value their
opinions but needed something more for some reason, someone to say do or
don't, he was still uncomfortable with his emotion toward the captain.
That when he remember his last meeting with Lupha, he knew she love him
but also was the closest thing to a best friend on this station. So he
decided to try to talk to her about it.
"Bonnefant to Lupha" he wanted to call her bleu princess but decided
against.
"Hello doctor," came the immediate response. "And what can I do for you?"
"Would you mind comming for a visit?" he said calmly.
"Sure," if she was puzzled, she didn't question it. "Whereabouts? The
infirmary or your quarters?"
"My quarters...it's more comfortable" he laugh.
"Okay. I'm off duty in an hour, I'll be along then," she hesitated, about
to say more but decided not to. "See you then."
"Aright see you then.." he smile not that showed in the conversation.
-= Command Centre ="Another date?" Morrie yawned.
"Not a date, no," Lupha said sharply, giving him an odd look. "Why the
heck are you so tired today?"
"I'm not tired," he said defensively. "I just enjoy getting a lot of
sleep, is all."
"Yeah riight," she sounded very dubious. But no-one else in the room was
looking drowsy, so it couldn't be the air conditioning or anything weird.
"I might mention it to the doctor," she added.
"No!" Morrie snapped awake. "No, it'll go on my report or something. I'm
fine, Lupha. Just..a growing lad, I guess. I'm busy, I play a lot of
holodeck sport, and so, it's natural I should want to sleep."
Lupha didn't look at all convinced by this, but decided not to press the
matter. It wasn't any of her business, really. And he was doing his job
okay, and there wasn't any emergency happening at the moment or any
thing. And...and.... she shrugged. Best to let it be, and look forward to
her meeting with Francois.
*********************************
François was nervous, How would he approach this with her, god, it felt
like he was going to tell the captain about his emotion. He walk around
and started to calm down when he heard the chime.
"Come in miss" as the door open.
"Thank you, doctor," Lupha had made time to change, of course.
"How are you? Thanks for coming" he smiled and he give her the usual
French kisses on each cheek
"How charming," she gave a shy smile. "It's good to see you, too," she
knew he would understand what she meant. "Now, what's this all about?
" Just you're company, you know talking, sharing stuff" he wink trying to
contain his nerves.
Lupha gave a quiet laugh, "This might just be for the pleasure of my
company, but you've got a look about you. Like you want to share
something. It's okay if you don't, but I do pick up on things, you know."
She patted his arm. "We're friends, remember? We tell each other what's
up."
"Sit down, you're going to have a hearth attack" he started pacing again.
"I can assure you I'm just fine," Lupha grinned as she sat down anyway
and made herself comfortable. "Now..let's hear it."
At this point he had two choices, the diplomatic one and the straight in
your face answer. He didn't want to be to direct. "I'm in love...I'm in
love with her" not able to say her name. He realize that she couldn't
understand who *she* was if he didn't tell her.
Lupha gave a sharp intake of breath, part of her feeling devastated, the
other part of her feeling a rush of sympathy and understanding. "You're
in love with who? Someone here? On the station?"
"I'm in love with Caz.." he drop himself on the couch, he seem
discourage.
"For a moment Lupha looked totally bewildered, "Who? I don't know anyone
called that."
He gather his strength "Mulder "
"OH!" her hand flew to her mouth. "The *Captain*?"
"Yes, the captain..." now he was back on his feet walking around
"But.. but... does she know? Are you two.. involved? Does she love you
back?" the questions fired thick and fast.
"No, No and I don't know because she doesn't know" She could feel how
lost he was.
Lupha sighed, "Oh dear. Are you going to tell her?"
"I want to keep it from her as long as possible, she would never love me
and even if she did, she's my superior officer and strict on rule." he
took his breath "Not a chance"
""This is true," Lupha paused, then suddenly gave a quiet laugh. "What a
situation. Look at us, sitting here...isn't it ironic?"
"Yes, indeed, life as a way of working in a weird sense" he shook his
head
She looked straight at him, "Here I am, with feelings for you. I know how
the situation is, and I respect it, but it doesn't stop me feeling this
way. And there you are, feeling something similar, for someone you can
never have... what a pair we make!"
He started to laugh "Only on Bob can it happen"
She chuckled quietly, "Indeed. What a hopeless tangle. I can see why you
wanted to share this. At least you hide it well."
"To be honest I'm glad I can tell you, it like taking something of my
chest, but I know myself and I will have to tell her eventually and
eventually I'll be hit by a big disappointment" he smirk. " Then will see
where I stand after".
Lupha sat quietly for a moment. She'd seen things over the past few years
and wondered about things, but it wasn't her business to speculate or ask
questions. She began tentatively, "I don't want to encourage you to tell
her if it means a disappointment. But at the same time I don't want to
hold you back if that's what you feel you must do. I know I felt better
for telling you how I felt..."
"As for you my dear, I'm sorry about your situation but I can be a very
good friend " he pass his hand in her hair.
"I know. I'll work through this," she gave a small smile. "At least it's
the Captain - someone I respect. If you'd been after some trollop, I
think I would have felt insulted!"
He smile "You don't need to worry"
"I know, and I think you've got good taste, don't worry," she stroked his
arm. "It's a difficult situation. I don't know what the captain feels,
she's very good at hiding her emotions - the serious ones. I know she's
been through a lot, but.. who knows?" There was still some doubt in
Lupha's mind as to how to advise Francois best. But then again, only he
could decide what he needed to do.
She look strange, like trying to think of something " At this point I
believe life will guide me, it did up to now and I gain a good friend" he
smile at her " If my heart as to feel rejection then it's a chance I have
to take but I don't believe the time is right"
"Absolutely. If the time is ever right, then you'll know it," she
believed he'd taken the right line of thinking.
"Let's talk about something more interesting, like food, hungry?" As he
took out a pan. "Oh, I'm sure I could manage a bite to eat," she smiled,
relieved in a way that the conversation was veering away from difficult
subjects. "What's on the menu?"
"Considering what I got and what I'm able to do, we have option of
mandarine and estragon chicken breast or my favorite my djjon / Montréal
spices steak both could be serve with vegetable....or not..." he wink
"I think the mustard and steak thing sounds wonderful," she declared.
Even if she couldn't have Francois all to herself in the way she'd like,
this was the next best thing, and it wasn't everyone on the station who
had a handsome doctor cook for them. "So yes please, with whatever you
think works."
"So how op recently? anything fun happening?"
"No, nothing much at all," she shrugged. "I know I shouldn't wish for
emergencies, but it seems like it's too quiet. My assistant Morrie is
bored, he spends all his time waiting for shift to end." She debated with
herself about mentioning Morrie's strange sleep patterns but decided not
to mention it - it wasn't any of her business anyway.
So she switched tack, "And how about the infirmary? Anything interesting
there?"
"Nothing abnormal , the staff are well organise" he didn't want to
mention all the little break he took and how he was now the captain of
the USS Dracolich.
"What about your shop? Aren't we due for a grand opening sometime?" she
grinned.
"Almost!" he almost scream it. "We're working hard, as soon as the alien
ship goes we'll make it happen" he wink "Will have a hell of massage
room..."
"Massage always was your forte," she smirked. "How does a person get to
be on the client list?"
"I'll be doing a few clients choosen" He wink "just call me and I'll
organize a extra hour for you".
"Sounds like an offer I can't refuse," she leaned back. "Maybe you ought
to invite the Captain for a massage," she couldn't help but add
mischievously. "Or maybe not..."
"You think" surprise that Lupha brought the subject back.
"It depends what type of mood she's in, I guess," Lupha grinned. "Maybe
that might be a bit too obvious though. Tell me, does anyone else know
about this? I mean, about the way you feel for her?"
"Well my lizard friends, Snookums and Sybils but I know they won't say a
thing. We didn't go into any long deep conversation about it.
"Snooukms is supposed to be very wise, plus he's know the Captain longer
than any of us," Lupha mused. "What did he tell you?"
"Well, they were a bit to phylosophical about it, Snookums made a analogy
with the sun, saying that if I got to close I would get burn..Sybils
listen and didn't much to give me. Really I think I'm looking to get
hurt, honestly it's like being a mouse and trying to get the cheese
without letting trap go SNAP! on you." He flip the steaks and started to
put spice on it.
Lupha had to laugh, "I think that's a very good analogy. And the trap is
well set - it's called military protocol. The Captain...well, she's a
fiend for protocol in some things. But then again, she can be pretty
headstrong too, when she wants to be. But I think Snookums is right too.
It's a dangerous game, loving someone so out of reach."
"Ya, let's just say I like making my life complicated, but for the first
time I didn't choose the challenge. It's like my destiny or hearth or
whatever out there choose this..." He smile "Maybe if I knew her better I
could make it easier for me.
Lupha pondered, "I don't think any of us *know* her that well, come to
think of it. We see her every day, we follow her orders, we get to hear
little bits of gossip, but we respect her too much to ask questions. I've
seen her father when he came for a visit a couple of years ago, and seen
her mother, too last year. I know she gets on very well with her family,
they always seem very happy to see each other. I don't think she's got
any brothers or sisters, at least, she's never mentioned."
"Well, I know her well enough to know that she won't volunteer any
information. She mention a relationship..but I don't have alot of
information"
"She did have a relationship with Doctor Jerillion, but that ended over a
year ago," Lupha confirmed. "They were the same rank when they came here,
and they both moved up to command at the same time, so that was okay, I
guess. But since Doctor Ron there hasn't been anyone official...that I
know of..." she didn't add that occasionally, just occasionally, she'd
wondered if things were heading in a certain direction, but she wouldn't
voice those thoughts. She wouldn't dare. "But then again, I guess it's
none of my business,really," she finished.
"Rank and protocol, it's funny how everything concerning a emotion come
back to ruling and regulation. You can't love her because she's a
captain." as he put the Dijon mustard. "How's the smell" Hoping it wasn't
to strong for her.
"Something smells very good indeed," Lupha sniffed the air
appreciatively. "Is that a recipe you invented, or is it a family one?"
"Well a bit of both" he laugh "What I like about cooking is the
experimentation part. You'll never eat exactly the same thing so you can
say that this dish is unique".
"Like two people," Lupha said quietly, reflectively. "They can love the
same, but it's still totally unique."
He finished the meal and brought the plate to the table " Tah Dah!" as he
put the meal in front of her.
"That's what friends are for," Lupha laughed, as she picked up her knife
and fork.
=^= Infirmary =^=
He open his eyes, the sun was smooth and warm, he felt some weight on his
shoulder as he turn toward her, the smell was divine. She was sleeping on
his shoulder with a little smile. Her black hair falling on her back, she
was gorgeous. The silk sheets were light and comfortable. A little breeze
was coming for their window where a humming bird was feeding. He felt her
move, he turn his head, her eyes were starting to open.
"Good morning princess" he smile at her pointing to the window.
She turn her head slightly and saw the bird before letting her head drop
on his chess, she seem content to stay there and look at the bird. He was
playing in her hair and messaging her neck slowly. He could see how relax
she was and how she seem happy.
"What do you think of this place?" he ask still smiling
"Best vacation ever" she didn't have to say more. The bird was almost
stopping for a moment just so the view could be eternal.
"Think the kids heard us last night?"
"No, They were sleeping well, even snoring. You're horseback riding
probably took the last drop of energy htey had" she smile "How did you
sleep?"
"Well except the crack ribs, the dislocated shoulder and the bloody lips,
it was ok" he answered half laughing.
"I didn't move that much, did I" as she wink.
"oh we're speaking about the actual sleeping part..." that's when he had
to cover his face as she grab the pillow.
They started a pillow fights , laughing and screaming as the door bang
open. Alexis and Dezan rush in the room and jump on the bed trying to
avoid the small blows from their mother. One rip open and all the
feathers were in the air witch by no mean stop the fighting. François
took all of them in his arm and with a big voice yell "bear hug". As they
were stuck inside his arm Dezan decided to tickle him witch was more
painful than pleasant. That's when both kids ask Caz "Mom did you fight
with dad again?"
Their mother seem a bit embarrassed a that time " Yes, and mom won again"
she look at François and laugh. François just shook his head " My damage
was more intellectual" as he tried to defend himself. That when Alexis
answer "Mom told us that's a excuse for losing" François smile " Well
your mother doesn't lose often but when she does she make sure that she
use her intellectual excuse too".
Mulder start to get up knowing they were in hot water if they let them go
on with the question period. "Who's up for breakfast"
The kids didn't take long to follow their mother they were still quarter
Jaz'Aarian / Betazoid and half human. He just tough that no one realize
that these kids were a bridge between a anti-telepath race and telepath
genes. He would never bring this up to anyone but it make him feel unique
to have peace and unity in his family . Life was unique and ready to make
peace in anyway it could.
He close his eyes to fell the sun again when he open them up gain he saw
two dead bodies on biobeds.
=^= Scavanger Hub The Frog & Nightgown "
Mike wake up with a heavy head that was still spinning from all the beer
the nigth before. Carol and Tol were already up getting prepare for the
day.
"Hi there, Sir!" making dure the last part was almost screamed.
"Let the poor man alone Tol, is not the strong type" Carol replied with a
smile.
He had a headache now "thanks for the vote of confidence" As he get up.
He look at himself in the mirror "At least I'm already dress"
Tol laugh " thanks to us..." he left it at that and mike was too mess up
to ask otherwise.
As he open the door of the hotel and walk outside the sun was like
lightning, he had to put his shade just to keep his head from exploding.
At that point Carol took out a hypospray and shoot him in the back with
no warning.
"thanks" he smile
"Get your priorities straigth next time" with a serious look.
he reply "Thanks "
She seem annoy by the second comment.
They started walking toward what Mike drunken partner told him after 3 or
4 pitcher, he couldn't remember. At this point he didn't care as long as
it had a roof. As they enter the facility they realise the cleanlyness of
the facility. The little hall was leading to a small hall that had
multiples doors. A women was standing in front.
"broken bones or cut limb..."she ask calmly.
"For you baby anything" responded Tol witch was hit from behind by Carol.
"No we're here to propose our services, we're a medical crew from a ship
that just arrive here and are looking for extra cash. Said Mike trying to
smile but still in much pain.
"Oh, the federation ship"
"The ex-federatino ship" they answered in unison almost blowing they're
cover.
"Ok" she smile and left moving toward a door.
"She wasn't hire for her intelligence" said Tol
"Stop this at once" Carol said punching him again.
"Would you stop this!" said Mike feeling he had to teenager in the back
seat.
A huge man came out, he was easily seven feet tall and had big muscles.
He was dress in white. "Can I help you, I'm in charge of this facility"
he ask in a deep voice.
"We're looking for work while our ship here, we're the medical team of
the new ship" he didn't feel like saying more since it seem everybosy new
about the ship anyway.
"How much are looking for?" he said looking at Carol and Tol from head to
toe.
"Maybe you could seduce him, his you're type, cold and big" Tol whisper
to Carol. Carol decided not to move but promise to kill him once back to
the hotel.
"Well give us food and beverage and some small change to spend here and
we're your!" He said putting his hand forward.
The man look at his hand and said while turning around "Follow me"
Mike feeling a bit stupid put his arm back to his side. They entered a
room with basic equipment and commodities. The man spoke again "Use what
you need when you need it. No extras, understand?"
"Yes" Mike said moving around the room.
"You screw me, you're all dead, understand?"
They all answer quickly "yes"
The man left with no more explanation. As the door close completly the
gathered in the middle of the room.
"I'm a stupide big moron, understan?" said Tol trying to copy the deep
voice of their new employer.
Mike smile so did Carol. As they decided to get to work they realise they
didn't have many patient. Then he came back in, the huge man pointed to
them and said emergency come with me. As the went to the back of the hall
the double door kept hidden another small complex that seem to be were
surgery happen. Three or four man were screaming in pain. The team went
to work immediatly, the approach the first man who had multiple fracture,
he ask for a sedutive as he was about to get the hypospray close to the
man, a huge hand stop him.
"Not necessary, he'll live" as he turn back is attention to another
patient. Mike look at Carol with big eyes, and made a sign to hold the
patient while he put the bone back in is place. The man scream like crazy
but the end product was that the leg was now fix.
They attended the other patient with the same technics as they watch the
other medics do the same. They we're brutal but very effecient, every
patient we're save and brougth to good level of health , the techniques
were....cold.
As they walk back to the hotel for a few hours before the night shift
they realise hw civilise the federation was. Fixing a man and making him
confortable here was not the same, the cost made a diffence , one that
Mike and the other had a hard time understanding.
=/\= Jackson's Whole - Frog and Nightgown =/\=
"Yaya yippee, yippee yippee yay," Havelock daisey doed around her dancing
partner on top of a table. "Am never too old to bey doein the hot shoe
shuffle," she commented to jump off and land in layers of tumble weed.
"That and thes es ma gen joynt, and eye makes the rules."
Righting a three legged barstool, Havelock lifted the plank across the
bar to ensconce herself firmly in her layer. "Enough with the good times,
gals gotta make a livin' too," she peeled off the large brown oilskin
trench, whirling it above her head head before it floated across the
saloon to land on a shrunken head below a flaming torch.
"Order up fellas, there's ale to be sold and supped," she declared, a
glint in eyes, and a smarmy grin across her chops.
Leaning against the wall in the shadows, Chess gave a grim smile. This
must be Havelock Burke - someone she ought to speak with.
Making her way lazily through the crowds she leaned against the bar.
"Hey, a pint of your best," she rapped her latinum on the table.
"You'd do better wi' me worst," Havelock replied, pulling the requested
beverage from the pump. "There be less vermin in the bottom of the
barrel," she added, her sleeves were rolled up to elbow. Decorated with
various tattoos and images. Havelock was a well travelled woman, the body
art a testament to the many voyages to rival that of Sinbad.
"And you're Havelock Burke. So we're even," Chess smirked. "I understand
you've got your finger on the pulse of what's what around here."
"Then you understand well," Havlock nodded, taking in various orders,
pausing briefly to slide a bowl of scatchings down the bar. "Ent so much
a pulse, as a throb. And et ent so much a finger, but a whole fist of
fives."
Deciding to cut straight to the point, Chess lowered her voice. "Someone
told me that you're a woman who knows things. Me, I'm an honest
freetrader trying to make a living. And if that includes a few of the
more unusual things this galaxy has to offer, so be it. Legality is a
guideline, not a rule, in my book."
"Aye don't do books, libraries neither," Havelock returned, wiping her
hands on a rather grubby, damp and fraying bar towel. "You after
something, pilgrim, or just schmoozing for free hops, 'cause I got
glassware to smash."
"Not sure exactly," Chess gave her a look that indicated she knew exactly
what she wanted, but didn't want to say it aloud. "Depends on who's
around, what's on ofer... what's unusual, what's priceless, if you get my
drift."
"Frog caters for awll sorts," Havelock shrugged. "But they all have a
tarriff, sugar, kent get summat for nuthing, we all got rackets to
churn."
"And you're a lady who churns faster than anyone else," Chess gave a
quirky smile
"Aye em a lay-git-e-mut businesswoman," Burke grinned, raising her hands.
"What you got to say to me, you say here. In ma bar, and in the open. No
one sees the back of ma house, sweetie. Et's private and gonna stay that
way."
Chess looked around, and studied Havelock for a minute, then came to a
quick decision. The woman was in control of her own bar, that was clear,
and if she wanted information she would play it her way. Decided, she
gave a slow nod. "There's a few things in the wind I've heard of..."
"I like your face, et looks pretty. Round here, may not stay that way for
long." Havlock turned to raise the entry plank. "Step into ma parlour,"
she stated, nodding toward a quiter corner. "No difference between
priests, prof-ets and kengs, so I listen to one and all. All have the
same price. Go on tek a seat," she smiled to set up some stools.
Chess sat herself down, still not entirely trusting, but extremely
interested to hear what was going to be divulged. "I'm after a relic.
Something I heard on the grapevine - might be for sale," she said,
sailing as close to the wind as she dared.
"Do eye look as though I dael in ann-tiques?" Havlock arched a brow.
There was something about this conversation that unnerved her somewhat.
"Pray-cious com-oddities gen'rally come with a a price t-ag."
Chess looked directly at her. "We're not rich, but we do have a lot more
to offer than most. If the price is right, we'd offer a quick sale. If
there's someone we could discuss a price with - depending on what they
had to sell, of course, we'd be happy to offer a finder's fee' she gave
Havelocke a pointed look.
"Fine-ders fay is one thing, pilgrim," Havelock returned. "But you know
what they say, sugar. Fine-ders capers and lowsers waypers. Around here,
wapying comes from reading someone elses hand at the poker tay-ble. "
"And you keep your cards close to your chest," Chess commented.
"Aye kent be tawkin' en reddles all night, sugar," Havelock sat back and
twirled her fingers. "Et may have es-cap'd yer atten-shun. But thes here
bar, don't run by etself or on empty neither."
"Right," Chess shifted into business mode. "I think you know what I'm
after."
"Got a vague eye-dea," her lips twisted in intrigue, "of what you want,
what you want to git your durrty degits on."
"And can you help?"
"You see, sweetie," Havelock sat forward a moment, steepling her hands on
beer stained table top. "Aye'm only the doorbell. You reng me to get
further entry, and that, ma dey-ar, es gonna cost you."
"Ahh right. So you know someone who knows something," Chess had been
expecting to have to pay for information. She only hoped she'd be able to
claim it all back off expenses when they got back. Talk was certainly not
cheap in Jackson's Whole. "If it's worth it, I'll make it worth your
while."
Havelock smirked, "Show me your tru colours, girlie, and way'll see if
they ken be nailed to the post. I don't jack daw for anyone, and for
nothing at that. Aye already told you that fer free."
"How much?" Chess asked directly.
"Two square grand," Havelock bit at a hang nail, before spitting it out.
"Half that."
"Eleven hundred squat."
"Less twenty per cent," Chess was doing rapid maths in her head.
"Twelve, the beer goes quick round here."
"Ten"
"Elle-aven, and I can afford to get some crame fer me cawffee."
"Done. When d'you want the money, and when do I get the info?" she
rattled out.
"When you've done wi' yer busking, and when you need it," Havelock
replied, her nose contorting with a sniff.
Chess put her hand inside her jacket and pullet out a wallet, opening it
to reveal a selection of thin pressed latinum slips. Skimming out the
required number she placed it on the bar. "I think you'll find it's all
there."
"Would app-ear, youse got a deal," Burke grinned. "Oid shake yers hand,
but I don't know wheres et been," she added with a smirk.
"I'd shake yours but I can probably guess where it's been," Chess
countered, matching the grin. "When and where?"
Havelock stood, dusting off her already grubby trousers. "Shell sees yer,
when I sees yer. Not like eddur of es got a secretary or nothing."
"I'll be back tor\morrow morning," Chess stood up. "Have it arranged by
then, if you please," she placed a hand over the money momentarily. "Easy
come, easy go..." the lightly veiled warning was left hanging in the air
as she walked out of the bar.
As the bargain hunter left, Havelock played with a beermat. She was
thinking. Thinking of what to do next. "Aspadistra, honey," she called
out to a runty looking barmaid, "Five minutes, and I'll be back," she
stated raising the plank across the bar. "but in the mean time, the
brawler es yawrs. All broken bones must be paid for."
The door to the back was nothing but a curtain of wicker as Havelock
skirted through it. The torn read leather on the seat creaked as she
planted her backside on it. "Jackson, this is Havelock," her lips
uttered. "Sweetie. We have a problem."
=USS Caledonia, Scavenger's Hub=
The Naked Vedek had become Zerin, Carsin, and Sandrik's semi-official
tour guide, giving them a tour of assorted watering holes, public
buildings, graffiti-covered buildings, and, finally, places to sleep.
They stopped in front of a building that screamed "nondescript hole in
the wall that nobody would notice." In front of two glass doors that
seemed to have been borrowed from a supermarket was a sign that said
VIMES.
Zerin looked at the Vedek. "Are you sure this is a hotel?" she asked him.
"It's the Hub's best-kept secret," the Naked Vedek told her. He opened
the door and ushered them in. "Hey Vimes! You there?"
A balding man poked his head up from the desk and tried to hide the
dismay on his face. "Why Vedek. Your cowbell act is an orchestra now?" he
asked.
"Not quite. We gots some visitors here," the vedek said, pointing at
Zerin and the ops crew.
"Oh, hello. I'm Sam Vimes and this is my inn," Vimes said. "I take it you
are traveling musicians?"
"We're travelers," Zerin said. "We've been touring this area, trying to
get the whole Scavenger's Hub experience." Sandrik and Carsin nodded
helpfully.
"I see," Vimes replied. "We have nice, comfortable rooms and a bar in the
back. Alas, we don't have any open mike nights or musical entertainment,
if that's what you're seeking."
"Oh, that's fine!" Carsin said. "I think we all need to rest our vocal
cords and maybe take a nap!" He didn't notice Zerin glaring at him as
Vimes turned around and led them upstairs to their rooms.
Zerin noted a sign on the wall: THIS IS A QUIET ZONE! NO MUSIC BEYOND
THIS POINT (ESPECIALLY LOUD PERCUSSION INSTRUMENTS)! Vimes was friendly
enough. She made a note that guitar practice would have to wait for some
other time.
Her room was a powdery lavender color. An amateurishly painted Risa
seascape hung on the wall. She lay down on her bed. It was comfortable
enough. All in all, an average inn. So far, so good. She wondered how the
rest of the Caly crew was faring.
=USS Caledonia, Scavenger's Hub=
Zerin noted a sign on the wall: THIS IS A QUIET ZONE! NO MUSIC BEYOND
THIS POINT (ESPECIALLY LOUD PERCUSSION INSTRUMENTS)! Vimes was friendly
enough. She made a note that guitar practice would have to wait for some
other time.
Her room was a powdery lavender color. An amateurishly painted Risa
seascape hung on the wall. She lay down on her bed. It was comfortable
enough. All in all, an average inn. So far, so good. She wondered how the
rest of the Caly crew was faring.
Two hours later...
They'd all taken naps before going downstairs for dinner. Sheez, could
Vimes' inn be any more functional and nondescript? It had tables and
chairs--all of which were filled. There would be a wait. Carsin was
dismayed.
"I'm in the mood for a drink before dinner," Zerin explained. "Let's
visit the bar.
"I'm hungry," Carsin added.
"They're serving pretzels," Zerin replied. "C'mon, let's see if there's
any local gossip."
Sandrik didn't have the heart to mention to the Ops Queen that they
hadn't discovered or accomplished anything since they got here. Okay,
that wasn't totally true. They'd earned some money playing "Lucy in the
Sky with Tribbles." Anyway they all went over to the bar.
Zerin ordered a wine spritzer. Carsin ordered a hurricane. Sandrik
ordered a beer.
Out of the corner of her eye, Zerin watched the tables, as she chatted up
the rest of the guests and some people who looked to be locals. The
tables remained full. She helped herself to peanuts. Meanwhile, Carsin
slurped down his hurricane and ordered another.
Zerin took a sip of the spritzer when she heard a SHHHWWWLLLUUURRRRRP!
Carsin had finished off his second hurricane.
"Careful. We haven't eaten yet," she told him.
"I'm fine, ma'am. These things taste just like snow cones," Carsin
crowed, shoveling peanuts into his mouth.
Some time later, Zerin, Sandrik, and a tipsy Carsin were escorted over to
a table. "We wanna have a pitcher 'a beer," Carsin said.
"We do NOT," Zerin replied. "Carsin, eat a roll, will you?"
The menu consisted of standard diner food. Zerin and Sandrik kept an eye
on Carsin. Zerin remembered the Ale of Enlightenment. Carsin and
alcoholic beverages just did not mix.
A waitress walked up to them. "Are you ready to order?" she asked.
"Sher. I'll haffa sanwish," Carsin slurred. "Gimme sanwish with mustard."
"Carsin, are you okay?" Zerin asked.
"W'n I gedda sanwish, Iiiiiieeeee, uh..."
"CARSIN. Sandrik, take him to his room, will you?"
"Weeeeesh lookin' for a casket," Carsin added. "A tisket a tasket, we're
lookin' for a casket...Say, I shidda sung. I godda song in me..."
"Vimes hates music," the waitress told him. "At least the music that's
popular at the Hub. Anyway, I heard rumors of a casket."
"Where where where where where?" Zerin asked.
"Why do you wanna know?" the waittress asked.
"I've heard it's a big tourist attraction," Zerin told her, grasping for
a valid excuse.
"A casket as a tourist attraction?" The waitress wrinkled her nose.
"Anyway, I heard some rumor of someone selling a casket in a few days."
"Where would this be?" Zerin asked.
"Got me. If I'd known, I'd be working at a funeral parlor, not Vimes'.
Can I take your order?"
=/\=Snell's Quarters, Junior Officers Area, Starbase BoB=/\=
"C'mere you flea ridden mongrel!" Snell hollered at the black furry
malting meteor that was tearing around his quarters. The sound of a
running tap and Snell not naked only meant one thing, It was time for the
cats bath. The cat looked back at Snell momentarily with a look on its
face which pronounced its intentions of going into the bath being the
human equivelant answer "Like hell!" and she bolted to the other end of
the room.
Robbie the box robot dog looked out from its cavern in the closet. Its
prostidroid vocal algorithms sensually commented "Oh sexy do it like
this, oh yeah!". In an amazing display of psychology and mathematics the
cat ran around Snell and as soon as it sighted the sexually possessed
robot dog bolted into the bathroom. Robbie gave chase and cornered the
cat.
"You can be such a show off Robbie." Snell rolled his eyes and followed.
Robbie jolted back and forth as it judged the cats movements. The water
glistening in the bathroom. The cat arched her back and curled out its
nails, fur falling off all over the place. Robbie excitedly shouted "Grab
her now! Take her there now! Oh baby! Now! Now!" Snell lurched forward
and grabbed the cat quickly turned to the water. She howled and screamed
and hissed at her owner. She attempted to swipe Snell with her claws.
Spitefully her claws caught him and in a moment in time she felt herself
fly, light and airy. A feline meteor with a tail of cat hair in its wake.
Then came the feeling of her nightmares. The feeling of being wet.
Covered in that cold miserable feeling she thrashed around before
scambling out of the tub and scrabbling to the ground. Slipping all over
the place Snell tried to grab the cat before landing on his backside in a
pool of water. Robbie engaged its traction control and chased the cat
down again.
Baxter Mattingly yawned and called Snell. Maybe he could get some sleep
if he could just get rid of this problem. "Snell, come in, Snell."
Snell rolled onto his stomach and watched as the cat ran into the lounge
dripping all over the floor and a following Robbie robot screaming "Come
back Baby, You know I got what you need!" on its four rubber wheels. As
the water and plentiful cat hair seeped into his clothes and soaked his
shirt Snell tapped his communicator to respond. Baxter could hear over
the comms what appeared to be a woman with a scratchy voice screaming in
extacy "Oh stop! Stop! I cant take much more! Your draining my batteries
you bad cat!"
"Snell, are you busy?" Baxter asked.
Snell shouted "Shut up Robbie, No sir I'm not busy at the moment."
"It sounds like you're busy. It sounds like you're having more fun than
you're supposed to. Is some woman calling a cat?"
"Its just my little cleaning bot. trying to round up my pussy. I cant
cause the dripping bloody thing left the floor all wet, its like a a day
at an oily skating rink."
"Listen Snell, I've got some reports to do so I want you to keep an eye
on a civilian for me - one Jyan Chera. His ship is the Mulder. Don't make
any comments. He makes plenty about that. He has a Klingon partner. They
say they're setting up import-export business or shipping, but you know,
Snell, I think they're smugglers. I'd like you to make contact with him
and ooze your way into his good graces."
Robbie rounded up the cat again in the lounge yelling in orgasmic
excitement "Oh yes! Oh YES! YES! Right there! Right THERE!" As it
attempted to chase it into the cage. The cat, petrified by this metallic
sex fiend, bolted into its cage and knocked the door closed in the
process. Snell sighed in relief. At least that was a once a year job over
with. He attempted to answer Baxter while getting up. "I'm just about to
get read... ooomph!" Snell lost his balance and lay on his front again on
the floor. It was no good he was going to have to penguin slide to the
door.
"Snell, are you still there? It sounds like someone is getting overly
excited. Are you sure you aren't busy?"
"Na! I'm good sir," Snell said over the intercom as he dug his toes into
the floor and tried to push off. Using his hands as turn tables to guide
his body across the floor. At first he was unsucessful but slowly built
up momentum as he slowly slid his way out to the lounge room door. "Whats
the deal with this Jyan Chera? Where do i find him?" Snell had momentary
images of a giant Captain Mulder majectically gliding through space with
momentary flashes of rocket flames eminating from her feet. Shaking the
images out of his head he almost missed Baxter's reply.
"To continue, Snell, you can find him at the pool. He swims a lot,"
Baxter said. "Take the entire day and don't bother me. Reports, you know.
Let me know what you find out tomorrow."
Baxter closed the communication and shook his head. Well, he'd take a
little nap before he'd do the reports ....
Meanwhile, Jyan Chera was swimming back and forth across the station's
pool. He loved this pool. It was the best part of BoB. No holodeck pool
had this feel. He thought he saw movement so popped up out of the water
and looked into the face of someone staring at him.
"You lost?" Jyan asked.
"Hello me ol' potato," Snell replied in his best old British accent
wearing a tight tweed pair of pants and a frilly shirt. "I'm just paying
a quiet old visit to me ol' favourite watering 'ole if you don't mind the
moniker but I'm a just a little curious who would be asking me a daft old
thing like that." Snell loved playing undercover policeman. It was so
much fun to mess with the civillians. He was also wearing a bio skin
George Clooney mask made to look real as part of his disguise.
"Just wondered. This is a pool. You're supposed to take your clothes
off," Jyan explained. "And did you know you're covered in cat hair?"
Snell grinned and brushed himself off deliberately letting cat hair fall
into the pool. He noticed the agitation of the the civilian. "I've just
been over hearing d'at you have been the cap'n of the famous ship
here'abouts now. The one thats been all over the sector and also heard
you'd be the chappy who'd be able to solve me little problem, word is
that your into the shipping and distribution game."
Jyan knew his patience was going to be stretched with this guy. "Famous,
no I don't think so. The person my ship is named after is far more famous
than I. But to answer your question, I do provide shipping and
distribution services for a price."
"Well now me ol' celery stick. I'd be asking of a favour of sorts. Seems
that theres a lot of need on this station and Im the gentleman who has
his finger on the pulse so to speak, yet since the new brilliant and
fantastic security man by the name of Snell came to town all my liddl'ns
have been too afraid to do my bidding. So I need a new supplier..." he
looked directly into Chera's eyes "...the thing is I need to know your
sound."
"Really?" Jyan asked. "I've heard this Snell person is a bit of a flake.
However, I'm perfectly, sound, as you put it. I have all my licenses in a
row, like ducks."
Snell was wondering if he was over playing at this game. "Well my beef
stock buddy, I'd be looking for a partner who'd be interested in
importing goods, sensitive goods. I don't care how you get it but so long
as you can keep your nose from the pigs trough long enough to keep the
horses in the yard we'll be laughing all the way to the Kilross hostess's
back room if you catch my donkey." The most serious face was predominant
in this conversation. "Because if you can't then I can take my handsome
little loot to someone else in the trade complex. Someone who has the
gilly gads for making some real money."
"I think, Mr. ... what was your name?" Jyan asked, "we might be able to
do business. I'm very careful with sensitive and breakable items. I've
never lost one. All of my shipping is done with the best quality
protection. However, if by sensitive, you are referring to shady deals or
illegal import/export, you've come to the wrong place. I never break the
law. Perhaps I can offer you something of interest that I already have?
"What have you got then?" Snell asked pretending mild amusement as if he
still didn't trust Jyan fully.
"I have some statues from Beta Gamma IV," Jyan said. "They're of ancient
years and high quality at bargain prices. They reached the market shortly
before that supply was cut off. They are perfectly legal though and have
papers that say so. If you'd like to come to my shop, although it's in
something of a mess right now, you can see them. What about it?"
Not wanting to be a prude Snell nodded in approval. He wanted to see just
how much it was possible to push this civilian.
Jyan got out of the pool and watched as the filtering system sucked up
the cat hair.
"You really do need to do something about your cat," he said. "Shall we
go?"
Jyan reached for his robe.
Holding for a minute Snell couldn't resist shaking his frills over the
water and letting some more cat hair fall into the pool. With any luck it
might have blocked the filters.
=/\= Promenade =/\=
"...and, so, we went for a walk afterwards in the arboretum. Come around
a corner of the path, and BLAM! Right there in a bed of wildflowers was
Mattingly! Fast asleep! I couldn't hardly...."
Cade paused in sipping his tea and watched the backs of the two women as
they walked down the Promenade. ~Baxter? Asleep in the Arboretum?~ He
shook his head and began his daily rounds of the merchant block. ~There's
a few thousand people on this station. Bound to be a couple others with
that last name.~ He glanced behind him. "Fenris!"
The dog loped up to him after reluctantly leaving the group of kids on
their way to school. Ears scratched and head petted was a great way to
begin the day. There was a chorus of "Awwwws" from the kids, but Cade
turned and waved at them. "Same time tomorrow. I promise." And away the
kids went, satisfied, because if any of the staff on their station was
going to keep their word, it was the Major.
Their first stop this morning was at De'ath's Bakery. "Top o' the
mornin', Major."
"How's business?"
"Fine. Fine. No complaints here at all. Well, maybe just that the Captain
doesn't come in anymore," said the woman behind the register. "She hasn't
been in... oh, it's been at least a week."
"A week without refilling her Jaffa Cake stash?"
The woman nodded. "She's not been feeling ill, has she? Oh, dear. We
should send flowers."
"Not ill that I know of." Cade made a few other points of small talk
before leaving with a growing nagging in the back of his head. "Fenris!"
With a poochie grumble that only a dog who's salivating over the crullers
in the window case can do, the four-legged Nomad turned to join his CO.
Cade pitched his empty tea cup into the waste basket as a pair of med
techs walked by.
"...and he just locked himself in the office for close to an entire day.
Said something about running tests on the bodies and wanted his report to
the Captain to be thorough. Then, even stranger..."
Cade stopped and since Fenris was busy looking at a female Alsatian, he
bumped into the back of Cade's legs. He looked down at the dog and shook
his head at him. "Looks like you're adapting to Marine life well." He
then turned and looked at the med techs for a moment. ~Bonnenfant, now?
This is odd even by BoB standards.~
When the rounds were finished, the nag in the back of Cade's head had
gotten bigger. "Start at the beginning," he pronounced to Fenris and led
the Lance Corporal to the turbolifts.
=/\= Arboretum =/\=
They'd barely gotten inside when a furry bullet flew at them. Fenris'
hackles rose and he snarled deeply like his lupine ancestors as he moved
in front of Cade. Sherlock abruptly stopped and stared at the pair, head
tilted slightly to the side. "S'okay Fenris," Cade said as he patted the
bigger dog's head. Fenris smoothed his fur back down, but kept an eye on
Sherlock just the same.
"Okay, Sherlock. Let's go see your owner." When the dog didn't move, he
added, "Go to Mulder."
Sherlock sat down and yawned.
"She's not here?"
Sherlock's tail thumped against the stones of the walking path.
"Okay." Cade took a step and stopped. "Well, that was a Lassie moment.
Good thing Timmy isn't down the well again." He started walking, now with
two dogs trailing him. Rather, Sherlock was attempting to follow, but
Fenris kept crowding him off the path. "Behave, boys."
They rounded a corner and a pair of Security officers were coming the
other way on their rounds. The groups nodded to each other as they
passed. Cade stopped and looked around, remembering something. "Chief?"
The Chief Petty Officer turned around. "Sir?"
"Isn't Lieutenant Vega supposed to be walking this beat?"
The man's face flushed a little. "She said she was busy with something in
her office, sir. Had to make do without her at a fight a couple of days
ago, too."
"Okay, Chief. Carry on." Cade walked around for a little while longer
before heading back to the Promenade.
=/\= XO's Office =/\=
"...and this one needs your signature as well, Major."
Cade looked at the padd and paused before grabbing the stylus from Yeoman
Winters. "Isn't this Captain Mulder's report to Gamma HQ?"
"Yessir."
"Then, why am I signing it?"
"Because she kicked Wagstaff out of her office and they haven't gone over
any of the standard reports for the last few days."
Cade slammed his hand on his desk, causing the Yeoman to jump slightly.
"Damn it! What the hell is going on around here?"
Winters shrugged. "Scuttlebutt around our office is that there's either a
super-virus going around or that the senior officers are involved in a
secret conspiracy." She stopped, realizing that she was speaking far too
much. Too late now, and she was an incurable gossip. "But, you're still
out and about with your normal schedule, so I guess we can eliminate the
latter theory."
"Yes, I think," Cade said slightly amused and for a brief moment,
envisioning the small cubicle farm that the yeoman's used as a hive of
gossip and information sharing. The smile disappeared when he realized
that they probably knew more about what was happening on the station than
he did. "I would hope that I would be aware of any secret cabals
operating on the station. Unless, of course, I was their target."
Winters' eyes got large. "Oh, sir, I'm sure that's not the case!"
Cade suppressed the smirk and reached for the stylus. That should keep
them in new material for a few days. "Anything else?"
"NosirIthinkthatwasallofthereports," Winters said quickly as she gathered
the padd's and rushed out of the door.
Cade sat back in his chair after she left and wondered what was going on
with the other officers.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
Rubbing her eyes, Mulder shook her head. Work..work... such a nuisance,
but she had to do *something* or someone would only start complaining.
Mort. That would work, Mort was very easy going and pleasant to talk to.
He wouldn't mind if she wanted to keep the meeting short and sweet.
"Captain to Lieutenant Feldman."
Mort, sleeping soundly and have a very pleasant dream, barely registered
the sound of his commbadge.
Mort stirred more seriously as the hail was repeated. It registered in
his cloudy mind that it was the Captain.
"Ca...Captain. Hello." The comic's cobwebs gradually cleared from his
brain. "Good day to you, Sir." Mort wondered as he said what time of day
it was exactly.
"Good day to you. How did your research go? Anything from anyone else in
the galaxy?"
"There were a couple of incidents similar to ours. Not much by the way of
details, but I'll be happy to share what I've learned." Mort stretched
and yawned. Looking at his PADD, he couldn't believe it was almost noon.
He was supposed to be in the counseling office hours ago.
"You did? Good. I'd love to hear it." She checked the chronometer, nearly
lunch time already. Maybe if she had a quick coffee she'd be able to stay
awake long enough to have a meeting, and then she could justify a short
nap. "The usual place?" she grinned.
"Sounds good."
"See you there."
-= Pigs in Space ="Double espresso, please," Mulder stifled a yawn as she smiled at Shazza.
"You're looking a bit tired, Captain."
"Work, work, work, no end to it," Mulder's lies were coming quicker and
easier than ever. "Extra strong espresso should give me a jolt."
"They say too much caffeine is bad for you, but it's certainly good for
business," Shazza smiled as she filled a cup.
Mort lumbered along into the cafe.
Mulder had already spotted Mort, "Lieutenant, care to join me in a
coffee?"
"Sure...I'd love a cup...or maybe three." Mort nodded to Shazza and sat
down. "Good to see you again, Shazza."
"Hello Mister Mort," Shazza waved the coffee pot over the table, "And a
large cup for you? No problem. I think coffee is the latest designer
drink of senior officers?" she gave a laugh.
"Oh?" Mulder looked at her curiously. "Why's that?"
Shazza grinned, "Must be the new blend we've got in. Suddenly all the
senior officers want to drink strong coffee. Even you, captain, you
haven't had a cup of tea for ages now."
"Yeah, maybe you're right. Great blend of coffee," Mulder said sharply,
waving Shazza away. It was no-ones business what she drank. Maybe she
needed to cut down on caffeine, though. It wouldn't do to make people get
suspicious. Back to tea, perhaps. She'd sleep more easily, but that had
to be a good thing anyway. "I suppose they've nothing better to do," she
said dismissively about Shazza.
Mort was a bit surprised, the Captain seemed to be in an unusual mood
today.
"So, then, what have you got for me?" Mulder took a deep drink of her
espresso, savouring the caffeine reviving her senses to keep her
focussed, at least. "You were saying something about a couple of
incidents?""
Mort took a deep draught of his coffee and began to wake up. "Yes, sir.
There were a couple of incidents reported in the past. One report from
the Ferengi and one from the Klingons. The Klingons apparently simply
destroyed the ship. No further information available. The Ferengi, as
they are wont to do, sold the ship. Not sure what happened to the bodies
inside. Probably sold to some museum of the bizarre."
"Ha, I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe we ought to auction the whole ship on
Fleet-bay," Mulder gave a wicked grin. "Complete with bodies. Collectors
item. But seriously, that doesn't sound as if there's any information to
be had there."
"Then there is the Vulcans..."
"Oh? I can't imagine *them* letting something of scientific curiosity
pass by without strtingent examination. Did they give you reams of
information that'll take days to decipher?"
"Actually, no. You would think they would be helpful, but not in this
case." Mort took another gulp of coffee. "You see, there is a researcher
at the Vulcan Science Academy in charge of the investigation but he
was...less than helpful, shall we say."
Mulder's attention was focussed completely now. "Less than helpful? In
what way?"
"Well, I talked to this Doctor S'tork, odd sort. At least he behaved
oddly, for a Vulcan. He did let me know that he was investigating
something similar to our ship, but getting any details from him was like
pulling teeth. In the end, his secretary stormed in and put an end the
interview. Very strange."
"Do you think it's information tyat's too inmportant to share? Or
something more sinister?"
"Part of what he told me seemed to be a warning. We never got around to
the whats or hows. At the end, he broke into a fit of sinister laughter."
"Now that *is* odd, for Vulcans." Mulder knew she ought to be more
worried about this, but some part of her mind was nagging her to ignore
it. "Well, I suppose there's always one or two odd people that aren't
typical of their species.." she said doubtfully. "What was your opinion
of his attitude, professionally speaking?"
"It seemed like he wanted to help, but something was holding him back.
Perhaps orders from higher-ups. Perhaps...something else." Mort perked up
a bit as the caffeine finally began to take hold. "Captain, his secretary
mentioned something about S'tork not being himself...not sleeping right.
I wonder what that is all about." The cobwebs still in Mort's mind
prevented him from putting 2 and 2 together.
"Hmmmm.. how odd..." Mulder decided it couldn't be anything pertinant,
after all, *she* was sleeping extremely well - better than ever before,
in fact. "I can't say I've noticed any trouble in sleeping around this
station, quite the reverse," she dropped in casually. "I think we're all
sleeping easier in our beds these days. No problems there, is there?"
"Oh, no, I'm sleeping like a baby." A baby with narcolepsy, Mort left
unsaid. "But the secretary didn't say if it was too much sleep or not
enough." Just the mention of sleep was starting to cancel out the coffee.
Mulder was still torn, wanting partly to press the matter further, and
partly to leave it well alone. In the end, some semblance of duty won
out. Maybe it might be worth going back to him, when you have time. No
rush," she waved a hand casually. "Perhaps he was just having an off day
or something," again, she knew it wasn't totally convincing, but then
again, she was starting to wonder when she could find time to sleep
again, so it didn't seem that imnportant.
Mort was also pondering beddy-bye. "That's probaly all it was," Mort
replied, stifling a yawn. "But that leaves us no closer to figuring out
the mystery of the ghost ship."
"No, I suppose not..." Mulder knew she ought to try and muster more of a
sense of urgency, but somehow it all; seemed like too much trouble.
'Yeah, whenever you' ve got a minute, see if the Vulcan chap is available
again," she said half-heartedly.
Mort was tuning the Captain out. Dreams, ahhhh, sweet dreams.
There was a small silence as they both drifted off into their own
thoughts. Mulder brought herself back with some effort, "Lieutenant, are
you okay there?" It was probably a bit off to accuse him of being
distracted when she knew she wasn't totally on the ball herself.
"Captain, if you don't mind I just remembered an appointment in
counseling." Maybe after a quick nap anyway.
"Oh, sure, no problem," she smiled as they both stood up. "I've got to be
getting back myself anyway." ~ File this report and have a short sleep
before the next person claims my time~ she silently added, as they made
their farewells.
=/\= SB BoB Science =/\=
Tom was curled up in the corner. All he wanted to do was sleep. Just one
more moment. One more second of this nirvana. Tom wasn’t too bothered
about the pads piling up. Nor did it worry him that he had spec analyses
to run, a photo chrome unit to fix. He had better things to look at. Like
the back of his eyelids.
Just a few moments more. The sweet smell, the warm embrace.
Tom smiled in a state of delirium.
Even geeks were allowed to dream.
** ‘With England one nil down, it really doesn’t look good. They have
eleven minutes, eleven minutes to equalise and book their place in next
summers’ finals. Only the French are back on the run. The bench really
has to do something. What is McClown playing at? Moules takes a run
through the centre. That’s a nice pass, a long one to Deschamps, Desaille
is waiting in the box.
The Bench is looking nervy, this is typical England. Back against the
wall, and they aint making it easy for themselves. And Beauchamp hooks in
a volley.....
And it’s saved. Donal parries. England are clear for the moment. A good
clearance by Adams sends it back up field. C’mon, McClown what you
playin’at? Nine minutes and counting. Fresh legs are needed.
You know, if the French win, it’s goodbye Vienna. A point is good, and a
win better. But this England. Scarppy tussle in midfield.
Oh, here we go. Movement on the bench. That’s better, McClown.
Ha ha ha, bless your soul, that’s better than nothing. The only option.
But like anyone wants to play for England these days. The fourth official
is looking over. Number nine coming on for seven. A midfielder for a
midfielder. Let’s see if this makes any difference.’
Arihana hugged her pillow that much tighter. A decent nights sleep for
once. Had come home early, been fed and watered. Was nice this domestic
bliss stuff for once.
“Well don’t just stand there, woman. Go cause a ruckus, we need the
points.”
She was on. On the pitch. Her strip was two sizes to big. Still had grass
stains on from the previous occupant. The socks were her own, though. As
were the boots.
“Dharma. To Jessop. To Martins. Creol creeping but Dharma manages to a
decent tackle. A cross to the far post, Martin collects, Dharma is back
at the D. An inswinger into the box......”
“I SCOREDD!!!!!!!!!!!!” Arihana had jolted awake, a leg had gone out and
aimed at something. Her hand was held above her head as though she had
stripped and was twirling an imaginary shirt around her head in
celebration.
“Fchthelufogfod”Dhillon looked at her with a pained expression. Why did
she have to kick him? He'd been attacking the cross trainer lately as he
hated the way she would caress his stomach like a football. This did not
help matters. He couldn't help the fact that he was happy. “You what?” he
asked.
“Was playing for England, they were about to get whooped. I scored,” she
squealed rather too excitedly. “They went through....”
“Oh,” Dhillon shook his head. “That’s nice. I glad someone did.” He
really wasn’t in the mood as he settled back to sleep.
“Was playing for England....”Arihana pouted, as though Dhillon had poked
a safety pin into her bubble of disillusion.
“Fifth generation Scot, like I care.” Dhillon mumbled. Only to get
tackled from behind and curse loud enough to be heard in Dundee.
=^= Scavanger hub =^=
Another day in the sun for the medical team as they walk toward the
medical facility. It's been a few days now that they work in the under
equip and under staff medical centre. For Mike nothing was too different
from Bob, since they had nothing anyway. What they could notice is that
everyone there were very qualified, they diagnose in question of minutes
and were on top of things very quickly. The place was also very busy with
bruises, broken bones all the way to surgery depending of where they were
standing when the cargo fell.
They entered their "room" where they treated all their patient attach to
it was a secondary room where the patients could stay if the were under
observation.
"Hi there Gorgeous!" Tol said seeing the blond receptionist.
"Hi there sexy" she answered back smiling.
Mike had some issue with that girl. She gave a long, very long private
tour to Tol, none of the other personel had that chance. From their Tol
always had some time to have private conversation with her. He said it
was to get some information that he was playing his macho facade.
The entered the room , didn't need to open the lights since it was sunny
outside and the windows gave a good source of ligth. They could open more
ligth if a emergency came in. Carol was already preparing the little
amount of material they had and Tol was trying to stay awake from the
party he ahd the nigth before.
A man came in on a bed, the medic barely push him enough for him to enter
then turn and left. As he rool down Carol and Tol got to work, looking at
pulse and other vital informations.
"He's very hot, probably from infection." Said Carol.
"I can't find any wounds, will ahve to turn him" said Tol quickly.
"Talk to me people, pulse?, blood pressure?" Said mike while put gloves
and his robe.
"We have found the problem" Said Tol his gloves full of blood.
"MUufhnffCaasswwquut" scream the man.
"Shut him up " said mike trying to get a better look at the problem.
"It's ok sir, we're looking at the problem, everything fine" Said Carol.
Mike started to treat the man with burns and different wounds. After a
hour the man was stable and the team to take something to drink and
relax. Tol and Carol was the first schedule to go to lunch as they were
walking out the man seem to move but Mike made a head sign that he was on
top of it.
"casssss" said the man.
"It's ok, would be better tommorow" said Mike trying to use a soft voice.
"cassssqueettt....eternal casquuu"
Mike cut him off " Eternal casquet, the jackson casquet?"
The man answered by moving his head up and down.
"Where is it?" getting closer to the man....
"Tommorrrroowwww" he took his breath "elsewherreeeee"
"Ok" answered Mike, he would stay beside that man until he was better,
the information he had was too precious...
=/\= SB BoB - Infirmary =/\=
Armed with the odd news about the Vulcans, courtesy of Mort, Mulder
decided she really must make time for the Infirmary, and see what
francois was making of the bodies they'd transferred.
The Doctor told his staff that he would be in the *special room* next to
the mortuary since he wanted a special area for the tests he was doing
and beside didn't want anyone to hear him speak to dead bodies. He would
probably be sent to see Mort.
******************
Slipping in through the main doors she enquired of Large Marge as to the
Doc's whereabouts, and was directed to the mortuary/autopsy room at the
back.
"Good day to you, doctor. Did they get transferred okay?"
"Good Day Captain" he smile again, his sun back. "Yes, it was fine,
they're in the other room want to see them?"
"Sure. Let's visit, lead the way," she moved towards the door. "How have
your preliminary scans gone with your equipment here?"
"I didn't find anything, on the other hand wasn't sent flying on the
wall"
"Ah, well, can't be too bad," she shrugged with a smile. "I'm wondering
about their neural pathways, if there's any chance of tapping into any
cellular activity. Because we must assume, now, that they probably aren't
*dead*, as such. Since there's all that stuff with the forcefields and so
on. I'm tending to assume some really deep coma now. What do you think?"
"I must agree to your hypothesis" He smile.
"Are there any tests that you could run?"
" Some , I'm just hoping that they'll let me" he pause " maybe we could
use the biofunction monitor as base and than link it to a medical
tricorder to take the mesurements" he stop thinking about his idea.
Mulder just looked a bit bemused as medical science wasn't exactly her
forte. "That might help," she cautiously agreed.
"We
got
his
I'm
could, also attach some sensors to help the tricorder. The problem I
is that it seem deeper then my medical equipment can go" he scrath
head " I would need to almost access the brain directly that's when
wondering if they would let me".
"Why not ask them?" she said softly.
"Well Monique and John are not the speaking type but WE might as well"
stop realizing he name them in front of the captain.
Mulder looked at the two bodies on the bed and felt a sense of belonging.
"I think they want to communicate with us," she said quietly. "They
look... so peaceful."
"That they are.." looking at her move toward the beds.
She moved to the male figure and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a
stifled gasp as she felt a warm current shoot through her arm. "I
think...they know we're here..."
He got closer to monique and touch her hand. As he did he smile and close
his eye feeling the warth "I think so too..."
Mulder stood quietly for a few moments, feeling a physical and
metaphysical link. Somewhere in the recess of her mind she was screaming
at the mental intrusion, so wrong for a Jaz'Aarian, but on another level
she was welcoming the feeling of peace and joy.
François tried something his mother shown him. He wasn't telpathic or
anything but could sometimes perceive emotions easily. He open his
emotions, he tried to build a link between what he flet and what the body
was sending him. It felt like he was communicating with different level
of love, hapiness, lust, sef esteem. Changing from one emotion to the
rest with different levels.
He open his eyes and look at th captain "We've communicated with our
emotions" at that point he felt to the floor. It flet like he lost so
many good emotions, like he was empty and tired.
Snapping out of her reverie, Mulder darted towards him. "Doctor! Doctor
Bonnenfant! Are you okay? What happened?"
He heard her but her but he was still in chock, where was those wonderful
emotions...
She called throught the door, "Medic! The doctor is ill..."
Diving back, she tried to make him comfortable, "Doctor? Can you hear
me?"
He open his eye and saw her in front of him " I'm ok capt, just a little
weak in the legs" He smile "This was unique, I communicated with emotions
like love, joy.." He stop and smile at her "and love"
"I think they have a lot of love to give, or share," she smiled back.
"Are you feeling better now?" She leant to help him.
He got up with the help of the captain " I didn't get a message, well no
word message but the feeling they transmited was like a dialect of
emotions" Still taking his breath.
"It's all very strange," she sighed. "I wonder if this *is* the way to
communicate with them? But it seems it's too strong for us to handle."
She paused, "Maybe...maybe we ought to just sleep on it. Absorb what
happened, yes?"
"Good point" he needed sleep after is adventure.
"Yes, maybe everything will become clearer in the morning," She patted
his arm, "You need time to recover from that nerve shock, or whatever it
was. Maybe whe our emotions aren't so edgy from being close to them,
we'll see things more clearly. I definately want to sleep on it," she had
a strong conviction now, and didn't know where it came from.
"Hopefully" he look at the captain going out of the room. He was now
confuse about what brougth him more pleasure the communication or his
dream. He would sleep on it and decided tommorow.
=^= Scavenger hub =^=
The sun got hotter and in the right angle to get Mike in his eyes. It was
morning and Mike had stayed all the day before close to his patient that
seem to have information on the casquet. Actually the team had decided to
pull a double so they could keep a eye on the old man. As he look around,
he saw Tol sleeping on the surgery table, witch in a sense didn't
surprise him even if the powerful light was open on top of him. Carol on
the other hand had her head on the desk sleeping quietly.
His view became clearer and he decide to go and check on his patient in
the other room. As he open the door, he felt a cold breeze and then his
heart stop beating. The man had disappeared, as he look up he could see
the window open. He moved toward the bed to see a paper floating in the
wind. As he approach it, the wind brought it almost into his hand.
The letter said: Good doctor, Thanks for the help, I had to leave it
wasn't safe even with your supervision. I have more information on what
your inquiring, meet me tonight at 22:00 behind the place you spoke to me
about.
Thanks again...the old man... Mike had spoken to him of the location
where they slept but never imagine that type of scenario. What could
happen that was so dangerous that the man decided to risk his life to run
away. The casquet was maybe a reality or had more to it then originally
tough. Mike decided to inform the others of the situation. As he walk
back into the room ,Carol was already waking up.
Mike drop the paper in front of her " What that?" she ask. "A letter from
our patient" he said with a smile. As Carol was reading the letter Tol
wake up and got up immediately "Got morning sunshine" looking at Mike.
"Slept well?" pointing at the letter "Like a baby" as he move closer to
the letter and started to read it. They both pose for a few seconds and
look at each other. "What now" ask Tol "What do you think" said Carol
looking at him with a severe look. " We have to go!" she finished. Mike
look at them "We'll need to be really careful, I feel like we're getting
into something allot bigger then we plan in the beginning"
Carol look at him agreeing "True, will have to prepare ourselves"
Tol smile "Don't worry I'll be there to protect you"
Carol started to laugh "protect me, your not even able to protect
yourself!" Tol replied faking pain " That was low...."
"Enough people let's get to the hotel and get prepare" as he grab his
glasses.
=^= Promenade =^=
Lt. Cdr. Alexi Oliverez had just finished dropping his daughter, Keiko,
off at school and was sitting on a bench eating a doughnut and drinking a
very milky and sugary cup of coffee. He was thinking about Ann. He'd be
calling her that evening. It had become a regular part of his life and he
enjoyed hearing her voice, seeing her face. It was rather nice that no
one was going to tell a Gamma Fleet advisor to stop.
He looked up to see a man purposefully headed toward him.
Cade had actually been heading purposefully towards his morning cuppa
when he realized who was sitting outside of his favorite shop. ~Ah, to
hell with it. Avoided the man long enough.~ He smiled and nodded toward
Oliverez and stepped up to the counter. "The usual, to go this time, if
you please."
A half minute later, Cade walked over to the bench. "Commander Oliverez?
Major Cade Vaughan. I don't think I've had the pleasure, yet. My fault,
to be sure."
Alexi stood up. "A pleasure to meet you Major," he said. "Yes, I'm
Oliverez. I was planning on looking you up before I left BoB. Rather odd
things happen here to distract you I've found out."
Cade smirked and pointed at the bench. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"I don't mind at all, in fact, I'd love the company," he said, sitting
down.
The Marine settled down onto the wooden seat. "You know, I love this time
of morning on the Promenade. It's peaceful. Well, usually. A new dawn
filled with promise and hope."
"Yes, I agree with you. It's very quiet," Alexi said. "A good time for
security to have a doughnut in ancient Earth tradition. Tell me, Major,
do you have any problems with your security department?"
"Other than the fact that the only Security Officer within eyesight is
trying to ruin a perfectly good morning by talking business," Cade asked
with a smirk.
"I'm talking shop, I know," he said, "but a casual chat is much more
relaxing than sitting in an office. What would you like to see different
in BoB security?"
Cade thought for a moment. "More of them," he said honestly. "They do a
good job, but they're far too understaffed. My Marine Detachment has to
supplement the Security Department during crises, not because of poor
personnel, but because of not enough of them. More crew in the SD would
free up the detachment for more traditional Marine missions."
"What do you like best about that department?" he asked.
Cade smirked again. "Their ingenuity. Those people could make a diamond
out of a turd."
"What about Mr. Mattingly?" Alexi asked curiously. "Do you two get along?
I understand he doesn't always think highly of marines. It's, ah, in his
file."
"Mr. Mattingly and I have agreed to disagree... at times." Cade shrugged.
"We generally stay out of each other's way. His job is hard enough
without me looking over his shoulder and being the stubborn bastard that
I am, I'll brook no interference with my detachment." He paused and
studied Alexi for a moment before continuing. "We work together well when
the chips are down. We both agree that we each have different strengths
when it comes to protecting this station. And, most importantly, I trust
that the safety of the station and it's inhabitants are paramount to
him." Cade smiled again. "Excepting chocolate, of course."
"Ah chocolate," Alexi said. "His passion."
"We all have our obsessions, Commander. Some more than others," he added
in an undertone.
"Do you have an obsession?" Alexi asked.
"My son, my family, fine tobacco, smooth brandies and ports, dangerous
women, and my collection of antique weapons." He winked at the Security
man. "In that order. And yours?"
"My daughter Keiko and, actually, I've added a new one to my list - a
woman I met from the Caledonia. Them and making sure Gamma Fleet security
teams have what they need to function safely and efficiently. I think,
Major, we might be on the same side. Have you tried one of these
doughnuts? Have one."
Alexi passed the plate toward Cade.
"I'm sorry I went into business," he continued. "That's one of my faults
- all work. I used to be a Marine, in case you didn't check me out."
"Guilty as charged," he said with a slightly abashed expression. "An
impressive record before you went to work for the other side." Cade took
a bite of the offered pastry. "Mmm. You're right. These are good. Damned
addictive, as well," he added as he finished the donut off.
"Is you family on base with you?" Alexi asked.
"No. Detachment Nomad is considered a hardship posting due to our rapidresponse nature, so no families for any the Marines." He took a sip of
his tea. "I won't lie, though. It is hard being away from Dylan for so
long."
"How old is your son?" he continued, curious about the family.
"He's nine now, going on thirty. Decided he wants to follow in my
mother's footsteps and be a doctor." Cade shrugged. "Of course, two weeks
ago, he thought being a professional race car driver would be the
pinnacle of human achievement....."
"Keiko insists she wants to be a marine when she grows up," Alexi stated.
"All of her dolls are in the military and they go on training missions. I
don't know how I happened to have a marine in a small girl's body, but
that's the way it's turning out."
"It's a calling. Some people hear the voice earlier than others." Cade
tapped himself on the temple. "I didn't get in until well into my
twenties, but the voice was right. It's where I belong."
"People think I brought the Marines with me to the Navy," Alexi said.
"They're probably right. It must be difficult without your family."
"I thought of requesting an exception to the rules so that I could have
my son out here with me, but it would be selfish. There's little for a
child to do on this station." He smiled. "At least your daughter is
normally on an honest-to-God planet. Best place to raise a child. And
besides, my ex-wife is a terrific mother and he's near a great deal of my
family, so I've no worries about his upbringing."
"Keiko only has me, I'm afraid," Alexi said. "I adopted her. She seems
content with that. Perhaps I should say she adopted me."
"How long are you planning to stay with us," Cade asked by way of
changing the subject. He didn't know Oliverez all that well yet and
didn't feel like disclosing his family history. Maybe sometime in the
future, but not now.
"A while yet," Alexi said. "I want to look into Caledonia's security a
little further. Your Mr. Mattingly intrigues me, too. He has some very
unorthodox ideas that actually work. I understand you once had a donut
around the base?"
"He calls it a donut, but...." Cade shrugged and smiled slightly. "It
actually looked like a giant prophylactic, in my opinion."
"Interesting," Alexi said. "I wonder where he gets all that stuff."
"Although it exposes my ignorance, may I ask what exactly your job as the
Fleet Security Advisor entails? Do you visit all of the duty stations
like this, or are we a special project since we're so far out on the
fringe?"
"My plan is to visit all the duty stations and meet their security
teams," Alexi said. "I started here and I haven't budged. Someone told me
BoB was dangerous in that people don't want to leave. However, my job is
to actually advise my boss on security matters and for that I need to be
on Raven. To do that, I figured I'd better know what I'm talking about.
That's why I'm on the field trip - finding out what security needs or
doesn't need, finding out what works best in each place and if someone
else has an idea that could help someone else. That kind of thing. Do you
like it here, Major?"
"It's not Wales, but it's acceptable." The Marine sat back onto the
bench. "Truth be told, I'm more at home with my troopers than I am
anywhere else." It was entirely true, but it was pretty damned close.
"Are the Marines second-chancers, too?" Alexi asked. "I think that one
more time, give it a try idea here actually succeeds."
"Most of them are. The rest are borderline psych discharges, too violent
for the rest of the Fleet Marine Force, or, a very few, were brought here
by me on my request."
"I didn't know you could make requests here," Alexi laughed. "What are
they like?"
"The ones I requested have certain skills that make it possible to
complete our various missions." Cade eyed the Security man for a moment
before continuing. "My First Sergeant, for example, is an accomplished
trainer and a wizard with logistics. I've got a few others that fill
specialties that always come in handy."
"Sounds like you have things well in hand," Alexi said.
Cade glanced at his watch. "I hate to cut and run, Commander, but duty
must call." He stood up. "I've got a training exercise to oversee and
then I've got to out-tough the rest of my kids during this afternoon's
close-quarters drill."
"Sounds better than my day," Alexi said. "Reports."
"You should join us sometime." Cade winked at him. "Once a Marine, always
a Marine. Even if you're wearing a different uniform now."
"How about this afternoon?" Alexi said, eager to take part. "I'd like to
try my hand at the out-toughing your kids. I'll take you up on that
offer. Now, I'd best get back to those reports."
Alexi stood up. "It's been enjoyable, Major. Until later then."
Cade turned and walked backwards. "Bring your game face, Lieutenant
Commander. My Nomads are barbarians that eat their young." He winked and
turned back around, whistling the Rifle's Quick March.
A smile on his face, Alexi headed off happily. He had a marine day to
look forward to.
=/\= SB BoB - Mulder's Quarters =/\=
This time it was different.
It was still so real - more vivid than ever before, but this time the
setting was new, and Mulder could only watch the scene in front of her
with quiet joy.
Around her the high mountains of the Ra'amtaps, Jaz'Aaria's central
range, reached to the pale wintry skies. She was standing on the front
porch of a slate cabin, large and luxurious yet retaining a rustic charm.
Inside she could see the fire flickering, keeping out the icy chills.
Dressed in a warm fur-lined coat, her hands were clasped around a glass
of hot mulled wine, it's rich spices inviting her to drink.
And in front of her...
On the solid frozen lake her husband and son were skating, playing a
terran game called ice hockey. Her husband was teaching her son how to
strike the small puck, sending it skittering across the ice to the
makeshift goalposts. Their shouts of laughter were the sweetest backdrop
to the scene she could imagine.
Here was true happiness, and she knew that they had two whole days of
vacation before their work took them back to the city. Tonight they'd eat
and drink more wine, and after young Pa'atrick Dylan had gone to bed
they'd curl up by the fireside together, and enjoy each other's company.
Bliss. Perfection.
She took a sip of her mulled wine, the strong spirits warming her, and
sighed in purest contentment.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" The voice came from just behind her.
She turned, and the fist thing she almost said was, "Aren't you cold?"
The human standing there was wearing only a simple white tunic, yet he
looked perfectly at ease. Then it dawned that she recognised him.
"Yes. You know who I am," he gave a small incline of the head.
"You're...one of the dead bodies. At least, not dead, obviously.
But..what.." she trailed off. She knew she was dreaming, of course. So
why had this apparition slipped into her mind.
"I am. And I am here, but not here. We really are having this
conversation, you know. It's a dream but not a dream. I'm sorry, that's
very confusing," he gave a warm, apologetic smile.
Mulder leaned against the wooden railing, and took another sip of wine.
The pair on the ice hadn't seemed to notice the stranger, and so she was
willing to listen. "So who are you?"
"My name is Rema Dareem, of the planet Verola. As your crew have so
cleverly worked out, my people - the Verolians - come from the Delta
Quadrant, through a wormhole that opens just inside the Typhon Expanse.
We have travelled a long way, and we found such wonderful people on your
starbase."
"But...what do you want? How can we help you?"
"It's more a question of how we can help *you*, Captain," Dareem smiled
again. "We are the Ascended. For millennia now, our people have been able
to achieve this state. In our ascensions, all our dreams come true. We
live our lives as they are supposed to be lived, along with all those we
love and care for."
Mulder wondered why it all sounded so completely rational.
Dareem continued speaking, "Every couple of centuries, some of us make a
pilgrimage to the outside world, to invite a chosen few to join us."
"How?" Mulder's curiosity surfaced. "If you are in a comatose state, how
do you...get on board a ship, for instance."
"Now all of our people achieve this state," Dareem smiled gently. "Some
are ascendants in waiting. They tend the chosen majority, ensure our
peace and comfort, and when necessary, send us on our pilgrimages. They
await their turn, and the good and pure will surely one day reach this
state."
"What about.. when you die?" a small spark of irreverence surfaced. "How
do they know?"
"They know. Our bodies can endure life for many centuries in this state,
but all good things must end, eventually. Our shells break down, and are
removed from the various sleep sanctuaries. But what a life we have
lived!" his eyes shone, and Mulder found it hard not to be thrilled by
his fervency. "Imagine, every day perfection. or not, if you wish for a
challenge. But you can make everything right. Most beings live just one
lifetime, but we - we can live hundreds of lives, all the variations you
ever dared imagine, ever secret desire and wish you could never otherwise
achieve."
"Magical.. but.. we have lives, and families.." Mulder could feel herself
being seduced by his visions.
"All of whom you can bring with you. Some will ascend, some will be
sentient, and yet all will be linked. No more disease, terror, or
death..."
"I see.. what do we have to do, to...be ascended?" Mulder sensed she was
playing with fire, but it was so..tempting.
"Come with us. When the time is right, come onto our ship and stay. We
will slip away, and you will be one of us. You will be ascended
immediately, I promise."
"I..don't know.." she breathed. "Could she? Would she? This utter
perfection...
"Take your time. We shall rest here a while yet.." Dareem raised a hand
in warning, "But a word of caution. Not all are chosen. Not all would
understand. Some might try and stop you. It is best..if you keep our talk
private, for now."
"Of course," Mulder nodded. "Am I the only one?" It didn't seem fair to
have all this and not let the others share it.
"No, not at all. There are others, I promise. But they, too, will
exercise caution. When the right times comes, you will work together, and
escape this sad life you all life. But for now.. think on what I have
said, Captain. See for yourself what bliss can be had."
"I will..."
"Good. I shall return again, and we shall talk more. But for now.." he
waved a hand at the scene in front of her, "For now.. enjoy."
He was gone. Just, faded out of her consciousness. She tried to make
sense of all she'd been told, but the shouts from the lake were coming
closer, and a young boy was running towards her, ducking and laughing as
snowballs were thrown.
She held out her arms to him, and behind him a tall, masculine male
appeared, those eyes, so familiar, so mischievous, sparkling as he threw
a snowball straight at her...
"No!" she laughed and ducked, and wondered what had happened as she
appeared to be tangled up in something.
Then she groaned as the familiar outlines of her sleeping quarters swam
into view.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to make sense of what she'd seen and
heard. How much of that had been real? Was it true? It had to be...
Maybe she'd visit the Verolians again, see if she could communicate some
more. She wondered who else was chosen, but she wouldn't ask.... now, if
she put off her appointment with Yeoman Wagstaff, she could even have an
extra hour's sleep.
She owed someone a snowball fight...
=/\= Birmingham, England, Earth =/\=
Dropping her shades down, Arihana was walking home. The weather was
suprisingly good, hadn't rained for days. Slinging her jacket over her
briefcase, she walked completely lost in her own world. She would go
home, pour a glass of plonk, and channel flick on the holobox. Only her
thoughts were interrupted by the chug of an engine. Not an ordinary chug,
but a smooth chug that was like the purr of a kitten. Turning to walk
backwards, her curiousty was piqued.
Tara smiled as she pulled to the side of the road and waved at Arihana
through the windshield of the replicated DBS. It was probably a little
cliche for a spook to be driving an Aston-Martin, but you couldn't argue
with a company that made such a fine looking car. And for all his overthe-top heroics, James Bond had made the right choice.
Starting at the back
did at a Chippendale
engineering, and how
back into its grubby
bumper, Arihana looked at the car in same way one
on ladies night. Was a fine piece of mechanical
the British economy has grinned when it had returned
little hands. "Hello..."the doctor stumbled out at
the former Mrs.Vaughan. "Nice car," she added in tones of wanting and
longing.
The former Mrs. Vaughan grinned ferally and stomped on the accelerator.
The engine would have revved loudly if it had been internal combustion.
Part of Tara's mind sighed, wishing for a moment that she'd put the V-8
in instead of the modern fusion bottle engine. All thoughts along that
strain were banished, though, as she screeched around the corner. She
spotted an unwelcome visitor to their party.
"Note to self," Arihana watched as it whizzed away. "I want one, and
soon." The car was however was moving swiftly.
Tara spun the wheel and jammed on the brakes, sending the DBS into a
sideways slide. As it came to a stop, the driver's window came down and
her arm came out holding a pistol. Four shots from the phaser sent the
would-be assassin scrambling for cover. "GET IN THE DAMN CAR, DOCTOR!"
"Wanna say please?"Arihana frowned, like manners mattered at a moment
like this.
Tara fired twice more, catching the assassin in the arm with the second
one. He dropped his own pistol and turned to run, but another shot from
the spook transected his spine and he fell in a heap. "Get in the car
unless you want to stick around to see where the shooter's support team
is hiding."
"No, thanks," Arihana winced to open the passenger side door and trundle
in. "Bloody Nora, who in the name of Jose was that?" she asked
Tara gunned the car forward again before answering; after she she was
satisfied that they weren't being tailed. "Five'll get you ten that the
bloke I downed was the one that cut your brake lines."
"Son of a...nice shot," Arihana stated glancing into the rear view
mirror.
Tara smiled and picked up her mobile. Tapping a speed dial button, she
brought it up to her ear. "It's me. Need a clean up." She gave the
intersection of the assassination attempt and hung up. "Now, Miss, maybe
you'll give me a little less attitude regarding a protection detail."
"Suppose I haven't got a choice really," Arihana replied, flicking open
her briefcase. "You're a Scary Vaughan by proxy, so fine," she tapped
away at the keys of the concealed console. "Yes, Ma'am, no, Ma'am, three
bags full, Ma'am."
Tara stole a glance at the briefcase before returning her attention to
the road. "The Great Dharma is not giving up, is she?"
"Yes, this is me rolling over, do what you like." The former counsellor
deleted the communication that told her a case had been blown due to her
rather heavy handed behaviour in the interview room. Throwing a strop had
never really been her forte.
She had let her feelings as a parent get in the way and damned the
consequences. The way Arihana saw it, any other parent would have gone a
whole lot further so as to prevent the feckwits' ability to breathe. She
had suddeny developed a sense of impartial justice and unwavering faith
in the crown prosecution service. That, however, was a cogitation for
another day.
"Really? Interesting development," Tara said amusedly.
"Did the Major not tell you?" she turned briefly to face Tara. "I'm all
talk and no trousers. Give up easily when it comes to you Vaughans.
"I'm glad you said that, Arihana, because I'm not the only one that
you're going to be dealing with." She twisted her head slightly and
winked at her passenger. "This family is like a mafia in miniature. Once
you're in, you're in. And they do treat the Security Service like it's an
extended member."
Arihana smiled a little, thoughts of the Welsh mafia armed with leeks and
potatoes running through her head. "So, you carry on with the whole
protective custody thing," she turned back to the console, snapping the
briefcase shut. "and maybe there'll be a nice drop of scotch in it for
you, should I stay alive."
"Oh, you'll stay alive, Doctor." Tara shifted into a higher gear and shot
the car up the ramp and onto the A5. "There's just a place that we can go
to lay low for a while so that Special Branch can get some of these
tossers sorted."
"Fine," Arihana crossed her arms over the briefcase to look at the
blurring of life through the window, "Like I said, not really gonna
argue..."
"My next call," she said matter-of-factly as she picked her phone up from
the console. There was a pause as she waited for the channel to connect.
"Greetings, dearest former sister-in-law." Pause. "Yes." Tara was quiet
for another few moments. "Yes again. We're on our way out of town."
Pause. "Precisely what I was thinking." She rolled her eyes slightly. "Of
course, dear Inspector." Now she grinned slightly. "I'll tell 'im you
said so. Ta-ta." She clicked off and set the phone back down.
"How pleasant, you didn't call her anything nasty...."
Tara's smile was from the thrill of opening up the engine on her car. She
bobbed through the sparse traffic as the speedo flirted with the number
180. "We're going somewhere safe, my dear assassination magnet." She
glanced quickly at Arihana. "I hope you like the beach."
"Assassination magnet," Arihana rolled her eyes, "Like I go 'round asking
for trouble. Kinda just finds me," she shrugged to finally remove the
shades. "Don't mind the beach, " she glanced out the window a moment,
hoping to get a better idea where they were headed. "You know, it always
rains in Wales. It's not so much sand, as quagmire."
"It rains everywhere, Arihana." Tara was continuously checking the
mirrors and changing lanes at random intervals to check for a tail. "But,
it's quiet there."
"There are more sheep per square mile, than there are people, so it aint
quiet, Tara," Arihana shook her head. "It's deader than a dodo."
"So, is your dislike of the Welsh deep-seated or did my wonderful former
husband bring it upon you?"
"I have nothing against the Welsh, I just don't like the rain," Arihana
held her hands up in surrender. "Get enough of that in England.Just don't
get me started on snow."
"I won't." Tara glanced at her. "Besides, who said we were going to
Wales?"
Arihana shrugged. "One of my finest qualities. Being presumptuous, just
ask the Major. Just figured we would be heading towards Sheep Shearing
Central."
The Spook nodded her head. "And that's the problem. It's what these
bloody bastards would think I would do. Especially as I have a home in
Tenby." She watched the mirror for a moment again. "So, that is precisely
where we're not going. And I've already got Dylan to as safe place there
is, which leaves me with no proscriptions on where to take you."
"Listen, magical mystery tours went out with The Beatles," she replied to
turning to Tara. "Don't make me do a Suraj and keep asking if we're there
yet. Where are we going?" Arihana did her best not to sound like her son.
Tara sighed. "It would ruin the surprise, Arihana." She smirked and
glanced at the Doctor. "There is a gentleman who owns a lovely villa near
Malaga, Spain, and he would be absolutely delighted to have us as his
guests for a few days."
"A gentleman, and on the Costa del Con?" Arihana laughed, "This just got
interesting, how did you swing that then?"she asked more than intrigued.
"You'll find out anyway, so there's no harm in telling, I suppose."
Tara's eyes narrowed as she watched the mirror again. "He was my rebound
after the divorce. I moved on. He hasn't." Her attention shifted
slightly, so she was more free with information than she normally was. "I
used to feel guilty about using him, but I drank a bottle of 18 year old
Glenfidditch and got over it."
"Rebounds and alcohol," Arihana wrinkled up her nose to shake her head.
"Never really a good combination. But the booze does take the edge off
ones conscience."
"Conscience usually just gets in the way in my profession," Tara said in
a barely audible tone.
"No man has ever driven me to drink, not yet," she replied. "Just into to
the arms of another. Could be worse. Could give 'em up all together, get
some bother boots, a pair of dodgy dungerees and bat for the other side."
Realising where her train of thought had disembarked, Arihana grimaced.
"Or maybe not. Quite like my dress sense."
Tara said nothing, letting Arihana's stream-of-consciousness carry the
conversation. Besides, she was fairly certain that they were being
followed.
"I really am intrigued," Arihana was grinning as she tapped a drumroll on
the brief case that lay across her lap. "The Major gets ditched in a
divorce, and you find this guy....hmm....interesting....." There was that
horrible tone in her voice that better associated with tabloid hacks and
gossip columnists.
"Ditched," was all Tara said with a questioning tone.
"Oh, c'mon, Tara, you were married to Cade Vaughan. The would be
Ferrari," Already Arihana was formulating. "Keeping with car anology,I'm
trying to establish whether you upgraded to a Burgatti, or whatever they
are called, or downgraded."
Tara smirked slightly as she reached for her phone again. "I'll let you
make the decision for yourself. So, my beloved ex-husband is a Ferrari,
eh?"
"Counselling Straw poll on BoB, Vaughan's the Ferarri. The views
represented were not mine but those of women who don't often see the
light of day." Arihana was feeling decidedly evil. "I abstained my own
vote on the grounds of being attached at the time."
"I'm sure," the Spook said dryly. "Excuse me for a moment." The channel
connected. "Me again. Yeah. Two sedans. Blue Vauxhall and a green
Citroen." She hung up. "Sorry, Arihana, you were saying..."
"Yeah, the whole Cade Vaughan Appreciation society that is really just a
polite by word for psychopathic stalking...."
"Ahh, right. So," Tara said before pausing for a moment. She decided that
she had to ask. "So, how many have taken the Ferrari for a test drive?"
"Well, I'm not about to speculate about the exact numbers," Arihana
wasn't about to violate the client clinician privlidge that occasionally
meant something. Once upon a time, the CVAS group therapy session had
been the highlight of Thursday mornings. "But let's just say yer mans'
popular, but no one insane woman has yet to get with in an inch-"
Tara held up a hand cutting her off. "You know what? Never mind. I don't
want or need to know. Not my business anymore." She moved her attention
to the mirror and smiled. "Right on time."
Half a kilometer behind, the cars she'd spotted were being stopped by
five marked police cars and a heavy air speeder filled with soldiers
whose demeanor screamed SAS. The two occupants from each car were being
brought out at gunpoint. The rest of the scene disappeared from view as
they rounded a corner.
She turned her eyes back to Arihana. "I love it when a plan comes
together." She sighed contentedly. "Alright, Ms. Doctor Counselor. You
and the ex-wife of Him That Shall Not Be Named are going to go catch some
rays on the Mediterranean coast and stay out of the way of the bad people
with big guns for a little while."
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue, Earth-="I'd look after it. I pwomise." Suraj declared, his chubby fingers
crossed behind his back. "Feed it. Clean it. Makes sure it stayed warm,"
he told his parents in that sickly sweet childish tone that all four year
olds had down pat.
Arihana listened carefully, weighing it all up.
"Don't have to be a big one. Or a small one," Suraj continued. "But
somthing to play with. Gets boring being an only child, and since Nick
and Clementine went. I'm sad and lonely," he knew that was resonate.
His mother rolled her eyes.
"A pet, anything in particular?" Dhillon asked scratching the back of his
neck as he leant against the fireplace. "The lizard phase, what happened
to that?" he asked with arched brows.
"Amadaeus," Suraj nodded. "Could do with a lizard. Please, Mummy, ask Sybel Snookums, please, please," the boy pleaded.
"Er, no," Arihana scoffed, to sit on the chaise opposite. "Reckon it's
that easy? Hello, Sybil, just checking, love. You got any spare nieces or
nephews that my son can borrow. Dream on, Sunshine. Sooner get you a
goldfish."
Suraj pulled a face. Goldfish didn't exactly rock his world. Come to
think of it, did goldfish rock anyones' world?
Dhilllon chuckled. "You could, but when it expires, bet you can't chuck
it down the toilet bowl," he teased to sit next to her.
"No, just grab some batter, and deep fry it." Arihana threw an elbow to
laugh, "Go nice with some King Edwards. Splash of malt vinegar. Lovely."
Suraj was getting worried. "No," he said shaking his head, "Don't want no
phisee in der toilet....poor phisee. Wabbit?" he ventured.
"No," his mother tutted. "There's a a reason why you're only child."
"Yeah, and don't I know it," Suraj replied. "Ger-bil?" he tried again.
"You gonna replace the skirting boards when they got holes in them?"
Arihana crossed her arms.
Dhillon was chewing his lip, "You, cynic, you. He's four, your one and
only child. Your son. Your heir. Grow a heart." He sighed deeply to
wonder how on earth she slept at night. "Just 'cause your granny battered
your carrot stick, don't take it out on him.Two words. Parental divorce."
Arihana shrugged. "You got on well with Clem, didn't you?" she asked,
softening a little.
Suraj nodded, again in that childish way that pulled at heart strings. He
also pouted and made his eyes bigger.
"Oh, no, not the eyes," Dhillon groaned, passing his hands over his face.
"Get him a pet, woman, he's killing me."
"We'll see," Arihana stood putting her hands in her pockets. "Need to go
make a call. But we'll see," she added leaving the lounge.
Dhillon gave his son a re-assuring nod. "Don't you worry. Sheep dog or
tea cup terrier?"
Later that afternoon...
"You are not driving," Arihana argued with Dhillon over the bonnet of the
new hover car. "Last time you drove my car, you wrote the damn thing off.
*You* can navigate. The GPS hasn't been synced yet." A padd was tossed
across containing a map.
"*That* was years ago," Dhillon replied, going slightly red. "Was only a
minor dent. I mean, could have got fixed.Was too much throttle, Aston
Martin my left-"
"Minor?!" Arihana choked. "Thirty grands worth of-Suraj!"she shouted to
see where he had got to. "You got them wellies on yet?"
"At least I didn't put my car in the bottom of the Thames," Dhillon
volleyed back.
"Swear, one day, I will marry you again, then you'll be sorry," Arihana
opened the back passengers door as her son hopped in.
"No, please, don't," Suraj piped up. "Won't *ever* get out of therapy."
"You and me both, Son." Dhillon dodged a flat palm to take his seat.
***
"Shrewsbury, Shropshire," Dhillon blustered, "Same thing, man, middle of
nowhere, it's all green," he tapped the padd a few times.
"Shropshire," Arihana didn't take her eyes off the road, but putting out
her hand turned the padd the right way around. "We need the *Shropshire*
boarder, you uneducated, geographically inept lemon."
"You mind," Dhillon looked up. "Child in the back, don't be talkin'
dirty. Take a left at the cross road."
Like Suraj was listening. Well, not to them, he was listening to some
gansta rap. Occasionally screaming something about dollar bills and
bling.
"Mummmy, we there yet?"
"Two seconds," his mother replied as the Chelsea Tractor hovered into
what looked like a farmyard. "You stay with your parent for a minute,"
getting out, she bundled her son out to hand him a carrot. "Go find
Hercules, apparently he likes kids."
"C'mon you,"Dhillon wearing a knowing smile took his sons' hand.
"'Erc-ules?" Suraj tried his best to keep up with his parent. Something
of a mission in his huge wellies.
"Yeah, like that fella from the stories, but with four legs," Dhillon
replied taking the carrot and snapping it in half. Would buy them a
little time whilst Arihana went and sorted out the offical stuff.
As they approached a chestnut nags head was visible over the top of a
stable door, buried in a nosebag.
"Hello, 'Erc-ules," Suraj greeted all very wide eyed, "'ere, have carrot
stick," he had to tip toe as he waved the carrot stick.
Soon the carrot stick had been chomped up, and Suraj was starting to
question the number of farmyard smells that were bouncing around the air.
"Ooh, Jemima puddle-duck," the boy hopped out the way as a gaggle of
ducks, two parents and their brood waddled across the concrete and straw.
"Met Hercules then?" Arihana was back, and ruffled her sons hair. "Down
to the nitty gritty then. Out the way, Red Rum," she tugged out the
bridle to lead the horse out the way. Before hoiking Suraj up by his
shoulders. "Fore," she laughed to haul him over the stable door.
Suraj just looked at her. Confused.
"Over there," she nodded towards a bale or two of hay. "Don't worry about
which you want. *They* will tell *you*."
Suraj frowned and tentatively looked around the stable. "You best not
'bandon me, mother...."
"Like I would even try," Arihana rolled her eyes, to lean over the door.
"Go on, move."
There was some indistinct yapping in the corner. Muted growls and yips.
Amassed around a checked red and black blanket were a clutch of six week
old border collie puppies. Some would be working dogs, others would be
homed for a quiet life.
"Hello?" Suraj wandered unsure still, "Anyone there, anything there?" his
wellies squeaked as the horse snorted.
Dhillon watched, as did Arihana, as though they were watching a penalty
shoot out.
"Listen, I want a pet, and mummy dragged me here, pwomising me one,"
Suraj ventured towards the mass of white and black. "Looks like," he
grinned to look over his shoulder. "Hello...."
"One, two, three, four, five..."he counted. "But I don't need that many.
Which one should I go for."
The rabble seemed to ignore him as they bounced around the bales. Apart
from one. First one round glossy eye opened, peeking from under a tutfy
white ear.
"I'm clean living," Suraj told his not so captive audience. "Got good
manners, can eat the right way with a knife and fork *and* I know what a
Ferengi looks like."
The larger than the youngest, but smaller still than the oldest bundle,
opened both eyes, and secreted out of the cubby hole in the bale that had
kept it warm.
"I can count to twenty, spell pugnacious, and my name too" Suraj
continued.
Completely oblivious, the pint sized pooched wagged a stumpy tail to padd
across the straw. The being looked alright. Talked the tail end of a
horse, but looked harmless. Just a bit odd though.
"Hey." Suraj sat down to pat the dogs ears. "Suraj Havane, nice to meet
you."
***
"Kumquat." Arihana stated, changing gear to creep forwards into a country
lane.
"Amadaeus," Suraj returned back, the dog asleep next to him on the seat.
Dhillon said nothing for the moment, just listening.
"You can't call him that, might as well call him Beethoven."
"Kumquat too much like Clem-en-tine," Suraj replied. "Me miss him too,
but that not good. Git over it."
Dhillon chuckled. "He's right. What's with the fruit theme anyway?" he
asked turning to face her. "Tangerines, orange blossom. Never got it
anyway."
Arihana shrugged, still concentrating.
"Call him, Papaya, Lychee, Apple." Dhillon laughed. "Or Guava, or I know.
let's got antipodean. Kiwi. Everyone likes a Kiwi."
There was a yip from the back. Dhillon turned around.
"Dhillon, say that again," Arihana arched a brow to cut up another four
by four.
"What, Kiwi?" Dhillon repeated.
The dog looked up from its poors, tilting it's patchwork head.
"Kiwi. You want to be called Kiwi?" Dhillon asked the dog.
"Rrrufff." The newly christened Kiwi replied.
"Enough said," Dhillon turned back around shaking his head. "Kiwi.
Welcome to the family."
=^= Security Office closet =^=
Baxter Mattingly was sleeping in his closet. He'd gotten a big blanket
and a fluffy pillow from supply and had installed them in said closet,
turning it into a delicious place to sleep. No one knew he was there. He
had his milk, his chocolate and his sack time.
Baxter was snoring softly.
chocolate. It was so good.
part. He loved to hear the
chocolate and Yus. Yus and
In his dream, he was bathing in a tub of
Yus was there talking to him about some engine
sound of her voice. That was his ideal dream chocolate. Yus covered in chocolate.
"Yus," he said, "come on in."
She raised an eyebrow, but he couldn't see her clearly. Someone was
standing in front of her.
"Let's make a deal," the figure said.
"I'm not talking to you," Baxter said. "You're one of those undead goons
I saw. I recognize that tattoo you have on your arm."
"Let me explain ..." the voice said.
Baxter listened, Okay, so Baxter didn't listen very well. He was too busy
smelling chocolate and trying to get a look at Yus. He wondered if she
was still wearing that low-cut dress he liked to ...
"Ascend to what?" Baxter asked as the voice stopped.
"Weren't you listening?" the man asked.
"I was," Baxter said, "but I'm not ready for that type of thing. I'd have
to know my wife would be as involved as I am."
"We cannot guarantee ..." the man said.
"Sounds to me like you want me to sell my soul," Baxter stated.
"Just think about what I've said," the voice answered. "Just think."
Baxter blinked and the man was gone. Yus was gone. He was awake.
"You ruined my dream, you vanilla lover," Baxter yelled in the closet.
Then he sat there in the dark for a moment. It did sound glorious. What a
life it would be to have everything you could dream of - to have your
family and friends alive and healthy, always young, always willing to do
what you wanted. Baxter closed his eyes.
Outside in the office, the Klingon said, "I'm sure he's here somewhere.
He was here just a half hour ago. Ma'am, if you'll just ..."
Baxter got up, stretched and opened the closet door. He stepped out.
"There is he now," the Klingon said, startled. "Just coming out of the
closet."
"That's a very old joke," the woman stated.
"Joke?" the Klingon asked. "What joke?"
Baxter ignored the civilian and looked at the Klingon. "Talked to anyone
strange today?" he asked, eyeing him closely and winking.
"Got something wrong with your eye Sir?" the Klingon asked.
Baxter sighed.
"Okay," he said. "Ma'am, I'm on an important mission. Snell will take
care of you."
Baxter nodded politely and went out and down the hall.
The Klingon just stared.
=^= Promenade =^=
François was eating thinking about his dreams and also about the unique
experience he had with Monique bodies, she was in a deep coma and
probably not human but the fact that he gave her a name was more for his
own comfort that anything else. He was looking at his soup and wondering
if his own life would be at one point a reflection of his dream. His
immediate answer was *No* , he knew that the happy ever after only happen
in movies or people that have enough money to built a life that resemble
one of a dream. In reality both were facades to a more common life.
He decided to leave the soup there, got up and went back to the room in
the infirmary. He had to relive the experience, see it through the end.
When he came in, he did even speak to the staff. They where aware now
that the past days he was almost obsess by the bodies living all other
task to his staff. In reality he was dreaming, sleeping to his other
life. AS he enter the room he took a deep breath, walk closer to the body
and put his hand into her. The emotions started coming, stronger and
stronger. He felt his body becoming lighter as one knee touch the ground.
The emotions were too strong now, his life was so beautiful now so
joyful. Then black....
As he open his eyes he had
but also saw Caz front the
the place, and as his wife
pregnant of his child, the
a box in his hand. He could see the vineyard,
back she was caring stuff too. He just bought
turn she had a beautiful belly. She was
emotion at that point was running high.
"You shouldn't be carrying that" he said.
"Come on now, I'm not disable, just pregnant, so let me be" she answered
smiling.
He let her enter the house, he saw not so far a long chair under a maple
tree. As he sat down he look at the vines starting to grow.
"You love her don't you" A voice came from behind him.
He turn rapidly, Monique was standing , smiling in her white dress. "Your
in a coma"
"And your dreaming..." she answered still smiling.
"And it's my dream, one I cherish allot, but how did you enter my mind?"
"that's something we're able to do" he sat beside him. "I'm Veria Terru,
a Verolian and I'm here because you're chosen."
"Chosen? Chosen to do what, save the universe?" he smirk. She smile "
You're chosen to ascend to this reality, this life" The doctor was now
very confuse "Ascend? what do you mean?" "Our people have the ability to
become something greater than ourselves and live in a dream created by
us" He look around "And you would be able to do the same"
"Why me? Did you travel all the way here to make me ascend?" He was now
doubting what she was saying. She took he's had "Some of us are sent from
our home world to give the chance to others out of our culture ascend,
when we came here we look and felt all of you choose some to be
candidate".
"So I'm not alone, they're others" He said feeling relieve he was alone
"Yes, but it's personal journey and can't be discuss openly or share with
anyone, you understand" "Yes, I do" he look at Caz taking another box "
What do you mean exactly by ascend? will I become in a coma too?" "It's a
state not coma, and in our homeland the ones that are not chosen takes
cares of us." "do you die?" he doctor part was now taking over... "Yes,
all dream finishes sometimes, but we live longer because of our state"
"live in this dream, live here for the rest of my life, wow!" he smile
"She would love you..." she left it at that and starting fading. Seeing
that is only answer was "I need time" He needed to think about this, but
in the mean time had to move in with the love of his life.....
-= Earth =Vega sat in her office reading the reports. It all felt so good watching
everythign happen and enjoying the fun. She liked this safe assignment
alot better. As she was sitting there reading the reports she saw a
figure appear. It was stoic, just watching. She looked up.
"Hi. Can I help you?" She said.
"No. But I can help." He came towards her and sat down.
Alicia was feeling great and smiling as she looked at the man. "Oh
really? Nothing could be better than these dreams."
He nodded, "Yes. That's why I'm here. What if I told you that you, and
your family could have these dreams forever?"
She looked up. "That'd be good. But come on, you're just a dream."
"No. You don't recognize who I am?" He looked at her.
"Sir. In BoB we have so many odd people I could tell a turtle from the
captain. Now can I help you?"
"I'm from Verola. I can help you acheive this state forever. No pain, no
death. Just bliss."
She looked up. Smiling but still wondering, "I don't think it'd be good.
The captain needs me on the base."
"You can bring them all along." He said, looking at her some more.
"Well, I'd need to have notice. And What am I supposed to do?"
"When the time is right you'll know."
Her dream was cut very short. "Lt Vega."
She still felt herself in the office. "I don't know. Let me think about
it."
"Lt. Vega?"
The man looked at her. "Of course."
And with that she was awakened, at her desk feeling very sloppy. "Why do
you people keep disturbing me?"
She got up and started to leave. Wondering more and more.
-= Chief Engineer's Office =Yus stretched her neck in her office. A couple more hours and she'd be
back in the quarters she and Baxter shared. Perhaps she could convince
him to give her a good rub down.
After the re-examination of the alien ship, she felt strangely high
strung, like she should be expecting something. Mulder was right, she did
feel something creepy about the darn ship. Either that or her nerves were
getting the better of her.
She picked up a couple of PADDs and set to work. Life at BoB never seemed
to slow, but if there was ever a lull, this was it.
Her eyelids drooped. She checked her time. Why was she sleepy at this
moment, she wondered to herself. Perhaps it was just overwork.
She lay her head on the table for just a teensy moment.
"Certainly, my dear", Baxter replied. "Right after I get Nameless and her
brood settled."
Yus rocked the squalling baby, who refused to be pacified. "She just
won't calm down," she hollered at Baxter who promptly reappeared. He took
the baby and in a couple of minutes, the damn critter was contentedly
sucking her thumb.
Lieutenant Omar-Mattingly glared at her daughter. "You traitor," she
mouthed.
"Like some chocolate?" Baxter offered.
Yus accepted and munched happily. "It was uneventful at the office
today," she remarked. "If only all my days were like these."
Baxter grunted. "The security girlie, Vega, is taking all my tasks quite
nicely, leaving me to sort out the smuggling issues," he was pleased.
Yus leaned against Baxter as all their favourite TV shows appeared.
"Wanna take a walk in the Promenade?" Yus suggested. They carried the
baby with them. The Promenade was decorated beautifully and there weren't
too many people milling around. They met a few of their friends, and
exchanged pleasantries.
"Is it completed?" One of them asked.
"What?" Yus asked, befuddled.
"The report," Marcella Vadai repeated, "Is it completed?"
Yus jerked her head up, embarrassed to be caught sleeping. "Sorry, I was
exhausted," she muttered by way of explanation. "Yeah, it's done, you can
have it," she gave the report to Vadai.
She looked at her time. Hopefully, she'd be back soon to get some proper
rest and perhaps the same type of dream....
=/\= A few months from now =/\=
=/\= Birmingham New Street Public Transporter Terminal. England. Earth
=/\=
The latest batch of commuters poured off the platforms from their homes
all over the globe, and streamed out through the various turbolifts.
Amongst them a lone figure moved slowly, head bowed, pale features hidden
by the oversized hoodie.
Mulder trailed in the middle of a crowd, until she stepped out into the
fresh air. Choosing a spot carefully against a flat wall, she sat down on
the concrete, automatically forgotten by the crowds of suits and
briefcases that marched smartly past.
She pulled out a grubby ballcap and placed it on the ground in front of
her, with her other hand chewing on a piece of cold pizza she'd rescued
from a dumpster outside a fast-food joint.
"Out here in the fields I fight for my meals I get my back into my
living"
The initial rush over, the crowds thinned so she could see across the
main concourse.
Was he coming? He had to be here. He? Maybe it was a she. The message
hadn't been specific. Of course it might be a she. Fifty-fifty. She
decided not to bet. Suppose they didn't come? Would she have to start
again from scratch? Was there time?
No. She knew there wasn't today was her last chance. She was fighting for
so much, and this was right. This *had* to be right.
"I don't need to fight To prove I'm right I don't need to be forgiven"
She felt more tired than she could ever have believed possible. Sleeping
rough, and stress, had taken it's toll. She didn't dare think of... of
what might be happening now.
The dam threatened to burst, and a lone tear rolled down her face. To
anyone that bothered to look, she was just a lost member of the human
race. Not worth bothering about. Not worth stopping for.
"Don't cry Don't raise your eye It's only teenage wasteland"
This was the twenty-fourth century, and no-one had to starve or be
homeless. And yet it happened. Those that slipped through the system.
Those that chose to live rough rather than conform. Those that were lost
and didn't want to be found.
Her senses, not completely dulled yet, suddenly sharpened. A pair of feet
approached, and she blinked the tears away furiously, her eyesight
blurred.
"Spare some change?" she croaked.
A fumble in a pocket, barely slowing down, a handful of smallest
denomination slips carelessly tossed into the cap.
And something else.
Something she could see, glittering where a shaft of wintry sunlight hit
it, half-hidden under the dull leaden strips. A microchip.
She had the information she needed. Now she could move. Now they could
make the final assault.
Now...
"Put out the fire Don't look past my shoulder The exodus is here"
Soon, she could move soon, but not too soon. If she was being watched, it
would betray her.
Another couple of vagrants joined her, sitting down and starting at the
giant solid brass bull, the glossy ancient symbol of the area. Wealth.
Commerce.
Hold your nerve. Stay still. Sit amongst the debris and the forgotten
ones. Those that were lost. Stare at the bull, eyes far away, keep up the
pretence. If it even was pretence any more.
The old man who searched for gold joined them, wandering and muttering.
From the recesses of the underpasses and the dark back streets, they came
into the daylight to exist for another day.
Hooverville for the twenty-fourth century.
"Teenage wasteland It's only teenage wasteland Teenage wasteland They're
all wasted "
=/\= Bullring, Birmingham. Earth -="Secretary, will you just do as you are told," Arihana lowered her tone
as she walked through pedestrians. "Send the money back to the treasury.
Ask for a medal instead. I'm sure the King won't mind. Goodbye."
Across the other side of the bullring, Mulder was debating whether to
move. She was itching to examine the information, but knew that too hasty
a move could ruin everything. Her stomach grumbling in protest at days of
starvation, she sat, feeling the cold seeping into every bone in her
body.
Arihana carried on walking through the hustle and bustle, tapping away at
her communicator again. There was a low hum of 'walk on the wild side.
"Hello, Dhil, It's me..."She wasn't looking directly at the vagrant
crouched on the side. "I'm actually gonna be late tonight,counsultancy
review." Digging around in her pockets, she knew there was some loose
slips. "I swear, I am not lying. I am gonna be late. Lying, my left foot.
You are not my husband, remember.."
Mulder stiffened slightly as her sharp ears caught a familiar voice
through the crowds. She didn't look up, and even as decided the best
course of action was to keep her head down, she found her hand reaching
out. Irrepressible mischief in the face of danger? maybe. It was her
trademark, after all. At least, it had been - back when things were
different.
"Spare some change, lady?" her voice was roughened, disguising the normal
clear British accent. Maybe it was a test, she told herself. Poke fate in
the eye and see if it blinks.
Crouching to find a handful of change, she pressed it into a pale palm.
She blinked realised who it was. "Dhil, keep an eye on the kids. Pick up
Suraj later, and Corey needs a...bye."
Mulder raised her head now, and quickly looked away again. "Thanks. That
ought to get me a coffee."
"Latte?" Arihana whispered.
"If you're buying." The die was cast. The decision was made. Dharma was a
fiend, she knew that latte was her weak spot. "Where?"
"Nero, turn right at the bull," she stated nodding at the brass bull that
was the iconic mark of Birmingham as Englands' second city.
"Cafe Nero? Yeah. Know it. Walked past it. Tried to lick the window."
Mulder's sense of humour made a muted return to the fore. All it took was
one crazy BoBer to make the winter sun shine a little more warmly.
"I'll get the drinks in, perhaps some cake too.." Arihanas' right knee
went click as she stood depart. "Dark chocolate and truffle. In a bit,"
she added over her shoulder.
After she'd gone, Mulder stretched and sat for another ten minutes. Then
she stretched and yawned, picked up her cap to inspect the meagre
takings, and stuffed the contents into an inner pocket.
She had to walk past the bull anyway and stood for a moment to admire it.
From one angle it might almost look playful, cuddly, until you looked
carefully, then the raw power of the beast was brilliantly embodied.
Solid, squat hind quarters splayed into the ground, long tail whisking
angrily in mid-air. One mighty foreleg raised off the ground, the massive
front quarters turned to face you. The beast has seen it's victim, and
was changing direction, it's shaggy head ready to lower and impale it's
prey on the wide, thick horns. It was mesmerising.
With a backward glance, she turned and trudged away through the crowds.
=/\= Cafe Nero =/\=
The open fronted cafe on the upper level was busy, but not over-crowded.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee was so delicious it made her want to
bite the air.
She hesitated in the entrance, her eyes scanning right and left. In front
of her the counter, with it's hissing espresso machines and chiller
cabinets full of cakes so creamily edible she wanted to throw a brick
through the glass and dive face-first into the edibles.
To the left, the coffee room ran the length of the building, it's far
windows looking down over the town. No, don't sit there. Too open.
To the right, the benches and banquettes ran along the far back wall, and
she spotted her. Slouching over, Mulder slid onto the bench, giving her a
solid wall at her back, and a clear view of the entrance. To her left
now, running behind the service counter, were washrooms and the staff
entrance to provide her with a second escape route if she needed it.
"Ethiks, I need this," she grabbed the steaming mug and almost buried her
face in the thick foamy topping, drinking through the scalding creamy
latte. "Thanks," she added belatedly, wiping the foam off her upper lip.
"No problem,"Arihana broke off a piece of biscotti dunking it into her
own beverage. As usual, a well stewed cup of Darjeeling. "Take it easy
though, don't want that caffeine goin' straight to your head..cake," she
picked up a piece of plastic cutlery to slice down into the rather
dangerous looking slice of dark chocolate and truffle cheescake.
"It's a bit rich and expensive. Like I used to be," Mulder gave a dry
laugh through cracked lips. "Will it bust the budget?"
"You will eat it, woman, Arihana crunched on the biscotti. "It's called
expenses, Long live the King!" she laughed, trying not to choke.
"Mmmyeah.." Mulder was already slicing off a creamy morsel of chocolate
cheesecake and trying not to cram it into her mouth too fast. The
chocolate hit was even more powerful than the caffeine, and the two
combined were heaven melting in her mouth.
"So?"Arihana lifted her mug, azure blue cufflinks glinting. "I shall ask
you no questions, and you will tell me no lies. Is that still the case?"
"Yup," Mulder dived back into the chocolate truffle.
"I have ways of making you talk, Madam CO," Arihana stated arching a
brow. "With the exception of the Mikado Man, I am everyone's favourite
Counsellor."
"Who? Yeah," Mulder agreed if only to prevent further questions, knowing
that she shouldn't be eating such rich food on an empty stomach, but not
caring anyway. Although all the time her eyes were scanning to shopfront
as she slouched further down the bench, head down, hoping not to be in
sightline of anyone that was trailing her.
"Ham and emmanthal paninni?" beeped a bot, hovering close.
"Yep, mine,"Arihana took the plate to put it down between them, tearing
in half. "Ouch," she fumed, her fingers burning.
"And speaking of yours," Mulder pushed the empty plate away with a
regretful look, "What about that baby in your house? Dare I ask?"
"No, Corey isn't mine, not technically." Arihana picked up a serviette.
"Don't change the subject. Long, windy story that involves Dhillon and a
blue eyed blonde."
"I'm not sure I do want to know.." Mulder muttered. "And I thought *my*
life was complicated..."
"Try being a Bollywood, it's like living in a soap opera," the former
counsellor replied.
Something suddenly alerted her, the fatigue not dulling her survival
senses, and she sent a covert glance towards the shopfront, where an
undistinguished figure in a dark coat was ostensibly studying the menu.
She knew.
"I have to go."
"Where?"Arihana dropped the panini on the plate.She couldn't read body
language, but it didn't take a genius to see the sudden change in Mulder.
"What, why?" Arihana sounded each word directly.
"I don't know," she flickered her eyes towards the figure again, taking
his time scanning the interior. "I don't who's on which side any more.
Hell, I don't even know which side *I'm* on now...the lines keep blurring
and I can't tell which is right and which is wrong," she pushed a hand
through tangled hair.
Arihana slowly shook her head. "Right. Such is the game of life. Madam
CO." Screwing up the serviette to abandon the food, she looked straight
at the woman opposite. "I'm not about to cut you loose and not give a
brass monkey about it. What d'yer want me to do? And I *will* do what I
can. No messin', Ma'am. Still feels like a chain of command, this. "
A pale, grubby hand shot across the table and gripped Dharma's. "Help me,
if you can. Contact the others..." she rattled off a list of the names of
her officers and where they were. "Contact them, you're probably the only
person left I can trust to do this."
Glancing briefly at the pallid hand, Arihana nodded. "Ma'am. And where'd
I go from there?" she asked.
"When you talk with them.. you'll know. I can't stay any longer. I might
already have put you in too much danger as it is," Mulder slipped out of
the bench, and gauged the distance between there and the door to the
kitchen entrance.
In a swift movement the half-eaten panini was also whisked away by the
same pale grubby hand and disappeared into a pocket. Mulder winked at
Dharma with a glimmer of her old jaunty self, before darting through the
kitchens and out the staff exit.
"Ta'ra for now," Arihana waved, and sipped her Darjeeling, wondering why
on earth it tasted of bananas. That, however was the least of her
worries. Former Lieutenant Dharma had calls to make.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge =/\=
"It ain't no use yer sulkin', Zellers. Ya ain't sellin' yerself. Yer a
pilot, an; if'n ya sell yerself that means ya ain't a pilot any more, yer
a prostitute. An' whut will *that* say ablout the helm department then,
huh?"
Jadi Z'El still sulked.
Jinti rolled her eyes. "You tell her, Richards. It ain't that sorta
place."
"It's true," Richards tried to place peacemaker. "I'm sure they do have
women who, erm, make a prfit from their own sales. But although the place
is rough and ready, there is a certain air of law and order down there."
"But I've got my costume all sorted," Jadi did a twirl in her eyepoppingly revealing slave-girl outfit - an abbreviated combo that would
have made Princess Leia (if she'd existed) feel hopelessly overdresed.
"And besides, you said I could."
"That wuz afore I went down there an' seen it fer myself," Jinti
declared.
"The Chief is right, Jadi." Richards again tried to reason with the
Anarian pilot. "I expect there is a designated Street of Negotiable
Affection somewhere, and they probably don't like freelancers."
"Yeah, ya start undercuttin' the local population an' they'll be cutting
youz, full stop." Jinti knew about these things. She'd hung around her
stepfathers docking ports often enough as a teenager.
"Well... can I still wear it? And not get offered for sale?" Jadi had her
stuborn head on.
"I dunno...." Jinti looked decidedly dubious.
"Maybe if you wear a coat," Richards tried to be helpful.
"Now you sound like my dad."
"Zellers!" Jinti was getting exasperated. "Lookee here, this is biznizz,
right? We'z on a mission, right? An' we gotta fit in with the local
yokels, yeah? It ain't gonna be any good if'n ya jist tart around an' we
has ta rescue ya. That sorta thing is all.. Starfleet-ish," she wrinkled
her nose. "An' we don't want them ta think we'z peachy-keen 'fleeters."
Richards snorted with laughter, "I don't think that *we* would ever be
mistaken for peachy-keen, never in a million years."
Ya knows whut I mean," Jinti grumbled.
"But.. you haven't even *got* any information yet," Jadi folded her arms.
"Thass right, thass cuz we'z sorta undercover, an' ya don't jist walk in
an' *ask* fer whut ya wants, else they'll get weird about it. Ya hasta
establish yer credentials first."
"And I think we've certainly done *that*," Richards smirked.
"Buying beer. And coming back with a hangover," Jadi gave him a
disapproving look.
"Ya ain't normally such a goody-two-shoes, Zellers, wassup?"
"*I* have ben stuck here, being bored, while *you were having fun," Jadi
sighed. "I was looking forward to doing my bit. And all you came back
with was beer."
"Yeah, but ya gotta think ahead," Jinti grinned. "Once all this is over,
we ain't never gonna be comin' back here, I don't expect..."
"The way our missions usually, go, we'll probably be barred from anywhere
within several light years," Richards muttered.
"...an' then we'll have a souvineer, like," Jinti ignored the
interruption. "Sumthin' ta drink as we tell our tales, an' stuff."
"Allriiiight," Jadi knew that Jinti could out-stubborn her, as well as
out-rank her, any time she chose. "I'll wear a cloak, okay?"
"Good," Richards clapped his hands together. "And you can still be my
property, and you can still chat guys up, but that's as far as it goes,
alright?"
"I guess..."
"Go an' get yer coat then, Zellers," Jinti gave her a little shove.
"I"ve got it here," Jadi lifted it off the back of her seat.
Jinti gave her a suspicious look. Richards did likewise.
"What? I knew you'd probably pull the plug," she gave a cheeky grin. "So
I prepared in advance."
"I'm gonna charge you double at the bar," Jinti glared at her.
"I'm probably going to sell you after all," Richards muttered.
"No-one's gonna sell nobody," Jinti said firmly. "Now you two get yer
asses down there an' don't be too long."
"What are you going to do, Chief? Get bored?"
"Nope. I'm gonna work in the still. Set my new booze up, that sorta
thing. Might as well make the most of it. Then I'll git on down there
again as soon as you two gets back."
"Right." Richards paused. "Do you think we could actually start asking a
few questions now?"
"Don't see why not," Jinti considered. "The guys in the Dog an' Pizzle
knows ya by now. Ya c'n start chattin' and Zellers can start wigglin' her
tush and distractin' 'em."
"Sure," Richards stretched. "Come on then, let's go have some fun." He
caught Jinti's eye, "I mean, do some work."
Jinti folded her arms. "Eight hours. An' then ya gets back here,
whuever."
With a wave, the ersatz pimp and his property departed the bridge.
Jinti fiddled with the diagnostics for ten minutes, then once she could
see Richards and Jadi were safely on the surface, went to start
organising her latest find.
=/\= Scavengers Hub - outside the main town =/\=
The directions to Jackson's house had been delivered by the same skinny
bar-girl that had served Chess before, and she wasted no time in setting
off, through the township and out towards the edges.
She turned a corner and could see her destination ahead - an imposing
stone-built house set away from the main community. It made her think of
an old American plantation house. Imposing, prosperous and aloof...would
the owner be the same?
As she walked up the driveway, she could see that her arrival would not
be completely casual. Two large, uniformed guards with very obvious
holsters were standing in the porch, watching her suspiciously.
She smiled at them, a cocky, calm smile that indicated she wasn't at all
cowed. "Cap'n Myers of the freetrader Caledonia," she announced. "I
believe your Mister Jackson is expecting me."
She believed right as the two men moved. One held the door open whilst
the other was already striding through the hallway in search of the
master of the house.
"In your own time," she smirked.
They asked her to wait in the hallway until Mister Jackson had time to
see her. So it seemed only polite, she thought, to wait until they had
gone before she wandered off to explore the house.
She wouldn't go far. Just a quick shufti round to get her bearings, form
an opinion of Jackson from the property and the furnishings.
The first room she looked into was as grand an impressive as the hallway.
Mid-colonial furnishings, pastel paint-job, nice carpet. Above the stone
fireplace was a portrait so darkened with age it was hard to tell whether
it was male or female. She'd look closer at that later.
The next room was smaller and more functional. It was dominated by a
polished wooden desk, with pens and paper arranged neatly on a side
table. Evidently work was actually done here.
Under the desk, almost out of sight, was a wooden chest. Bound with metal
straps and held shut by a padlock it looked rather like an old sea-chest,
Chess thought. She tested the padlock, giving it a good tug, and felt the
metal bracket give slightly. More for show than security, she decided - a
good pull would wrench the thing open.
She did wonder what was in it - papers relating to a sale, details of the
casket... but now was not the time to find out. Moving back she retraced
her steps to explore further.
Across the other side of the hallway, the first door Chess tried led into
a long gallery full of glass-fronted display cases. "Okay - now this is
more like it." she murmured and peered into the first of the cabinets.
It contained a model of a spaceship. The sleek, matt-black hull and
sophisticated (for it's time) phaser-cannon ports along the side seemed
out of place in the cabinet. A handwritten label described the ship as:
'Scavenger - the Feared Battle Cruiser of Notorious Space Pirate Ned
Jackson'. In smaller print it announced that the model had been built
from the original blueprints and colour charts supplied by the Orion
Spaceship Corporation. The final line on the card said: 'Present
Whereabouts Unknown'.
The next case included bits of bent metal that were apparently from the
cruise liner Spacefarer, which was destroyed in an attack by Jackson
after refusing to surrender. In pride of place were several charred pages
from the ship's log, and a misshapen isolinear chip that purported to be
part of the main life-support system.
There was something at the back of the case that Chess couldn't quite
make out. A picture, but faint like a watermark. Was it on the backcloth?
A face? She looked closer, her nose almost touching the glass.
Funny - when she moved it seemed to disappear. And when she leaned away
it came back. Almost like a reflection...
"Ah," she said in embarrassed realisation, and turned to smile
apologetically at the man standing behind her. "Mister Jackson, I
presume?"
"You do presume. But yes, I'm Jackson. And you must be Captain Myers."
"Yes. I must. Nice collection, by the way," Chess waved a hand casually.
"Sorry to let myself in. Couldn't resist. Splendid stuff you've got
here."
"Thank you." Jackson was a tall, thin man but with a deep voice. His hair
was steel-grey although he only looked to be in his mid-thirties. "I
thought I knew all the ships and crews that visit these parts, but no
matter. Let me show you around, Captain."
"Thanks. I'd like that. I'm really into history." Chess fell in beside
him, appearing relaxed, but every sense was alert. "That's very kind."
"And you can tell me just why you're here. And why I've never heard of
you."
=^= Scavenger hub =^=
The room was quiet as everybody was getting prepare for the evening
meeting. Mike had a small phaser given by the doctor at the medical
facility. He said it was in case of major emergency, Mike really thought
he would never see the use of it but in this place on this terms he
didn't know. He was making sure it was visible when he saw Tol get out of
a smaller room.
"Stop playing with it" said Tol "Well I'm trying to hide it properly"
reply Mike with a nervous look. "It's hidden, people won't look in your
short for god sake" he smile. "Shut up Tol" look at him seriously. The
next scene would change Mike vision of Carol for the rest of his life.
She came in dress in a suit that left little to the imagination. Tol and
Mike had their mouth open uncertain of what comment to give. Even Tol was
searching for the correct word without any sound getting out of his
mouth. As he got the courage to start speaking she got out a American
knuckle or what other call brass knuckle. The small object was put in the
fingers and cover the knuckle with a brass and spikes. Tol immediately
move back and look at Mike for a order, witch never came.
"Stop looking at me like that, I'm not a piece of meat" she said with her
usual aggressive tone. "Meat with a purpose" pointing at the brass on her
hand. "Will you hide that" said Mike concern that he would pass unnoticed
to the rest of the costume. "Of course" as she put it between her rounded
upper body. "Wow!" said Tol trying to avoid to stare. Mike was just amaze
she had room there. "Hey guys! Up here, Im up here" pointing at her eyes.
"Right but it's much more pleasant down there..." answer Tol. "I'm going
to kill you Tol" as she walk toward him. "Guys! that's enough! we have to
go , and beside she's...she's...playing the part" trying to find
something to say about her new suit.
The three of them made it down the hotel, it was still fill with people
and drunks. As they went out, the made sure not to be followed and made
sure to walk around before getting around to the back of the hotel. As
they did, they saw a body on the small dark alley. The closer they came ,
the closer they saw the old man that had the information. They started
immediately to perform the first care but it was to late , the stab wound
were to deep , to serious. As Mike scream for help , security came along.
"Hi there sugar" said one man to Carol. "A man was kill and all you have
to say is sugar!" said Carol "Hey relax babe or you'll be the one in
trouble" he answer with a smile At that point Mike took control of the
situation. "He was stab to death" "What do you mean" said the guard Tol
look at Mike with a smirk " Meaning a knife entered he's body at multiple
time and he died because of it" The guard smile "You were there?" "No, we
just passing but we're from the medical facility and wondered" said Mike
"Well brawls between drunks happen often and things happen" said the
guard turning around " I'll call it in and they'll clean it up"
"He was murdered" said Mike "Do you know something I don't?" said the
guard Mike knew it was a trick question " he was in the medical facility
and got out in perfect health" "Bar brawls tend to do that to your
health" pointing at the dead man. "thank you sir" said Carol pushing the
group forward. After being far away they decided to inform the
captain....
-=- The Frog and Nightgown, Jacksons’ Whole -=Righting a bar stool, Havelock wiped down the grimy surface of the well
weathered table. Beer mats were tossed out like a good hand of poker,
awaiting the next batch of unruly but beer slugging patrons. There was
something in the air. It made the quicksilver fillings in her teeth hum
with unease. There was something that made her feel as though she had to
watch her step.
The saloon was starting to throng. A few burly, sizzled fish wives had
taken some darts into their side of beef hands and were now baiting each
other at the oche. The lounge was starting to fill like the left
ventricle of the heart of a weathered gunslinger Slowly by surely, patron
were starting to fill.
Taking the bundle of reeds from behind the bar, Havelock made a good
lackey. Sweeping away stale saw dust that soaked up the many by products
of bar brawls. It was cheaper than kitty litter, and far easier to come
by.
She had no airs or graces, Havelock had most certainly been round the
block and helped keep it standing. Owning the place was one thing,
getting stuck in was another. It kept her sane.
The bundle of
more saw dust
to the pumps,
time. Keeping
system.
reeds were tossed back over the bar, as she threw out some
as though it was chicken feed. A smile, a grin. All hands
this was the mid morning rush. Havelock was biding her
a lid on things. All she had to do was to keep playing the
She could polish glasses in her sleep, pour pints too, she had been doing
this that long. So she stood for a moment, a pint of blackberry wine in
her gnarled and beleaguered hands.
The saloon doors creaked and swung open. The one nodded, as though
indicating some par for the course. She had to smile, and nodded towards
the reeded curtain that covered the heavy door to the back room.
Ensuring that Aspidistra had the bases of the bar covered, Havelock in
the company of two would be goons secreted into the backroom. The staff,
they knew. If they asked no questions, they would get no lies.
Aspidistra watched in the temporary lull, intrigued but clueless as to
what was going on behind the closed door. When it opened, she nearly
fumbled the tumbler that she had been polishing for the last few moments.
Havelock shepherded the two out. It was short and sweet. A smile and wave
to wish them on their way. She suddenly felt so much better as the saloon
doors once again swung open.
=/\= Scavengers Hub - 'Dog & Pizzle' =/\=
The bar was full, throaty shouts rumbling over and under the fug of
tobacco smoke, as Richards and Jadi edged their way into a corner seat.
Equipped with a pint each of 'Craptacular Spectacular' they looked
casually around them.
"So then, this is where it's all at?" Jadi sounded disappointed.
"Stop complaining," Richards took a deep drink of his beer. "You were
eager to come. I told you, it's routine stuff now. What did you expect?
James Bond type car chases and rooftop leaps or something?"
"Mmph," Jadi took a swig of beer and arranged herself to sprawl over the
bench, accidentally-on-purpose bumping into a couple of swarthy sea-dog
types with black beards who were occupying the next bench.
Richards tried not to groan as their heads turned - the two were almost
caricatures for extras from a pirate movie, although the sidearms and
blades they were wearing looked extremely un-prop like.
"Sorry dears," Jadi gave a winning smile.
"S'okay, li'l lady," one of them leered, then sized up Richards who was
doing his best to look possessive. "Yours?"
"Yeah," he answered shortly.
"For sale?"
Jadi shot him a 'told you so' look, while Richards shook his head. "Nope.
I keep what's mine - legal bought and paid for," he hesitated, might as
well go for it now he was embroiled. "But I sometimes barter. If the
prize is right."
"Prize, eh?" the other one took up. "Now what sort of prize might you be
talking about?"
"Anything long-lasting, if you get my drift," Richards hedged.
The two piratical drinkers looked at each other, then back to Jadi and
Richards. "Well now.. we hear all sorts of stories, but some of them
aren't right to share in a place like this. How about we make some sort
of private deal?"
"If the information is right, and not before," Richards hoped things
weren't moving too far, too fast.
"Listen up, laddie..." one snickered and leaned forwards, "There's a
place just out of town...."
* * * * *
An hour later, Jadi and Richards were trudging their way along a desolate
dirt track, the lights of the township fading into the distance behind
them.
"Y'know.. I can't help wondering if that wasn't a bit *too* easy.."
Richards shot a suspicious look behind them.
"My feet hurt," Jadi grumbled.
"Shouldn't be too much longer now. See that rockface over there?"
Richards pointed through the gathering dusk, "By that stunted tree,
there's a rockfall. They said to wait for them there, against the
rockface, and they'd bring a map."
"See, we'll get directions to the Casket and sort it all out, quick as
anything," Jadi gave a smug smile.
"Yeah. Maybe," Richards didn't sound convinced. The more he thought about
it, the more it seemed.. too much of a coincidence that the first people
they'd spoken to knew exactly what they wanted.
He sighed, "I'm going to call it in," as he tapped his commbadge.
"Yup, wassup?" Jinti's voice came through the darkening air.
"Chief, we might need you to watch out backs," Richards explained what
had happened and where they were going.
"Y'okay. Comm me if'n ya need help. I'll get Dennis here ta keep a
transporter lock on you and - " she broke off as someone was speaking in
the background, "Oh, right, he sez he can't do that - outside the town
there's a sorta forcefield whut blocks transport. Kinda makes sense,
stops folks from bringin' in illegal stuff. But that don't help you guys.
Ya be careful, ya hear?"
"We will. We're almost here now. We'll comm if we need help, at least,"
Richards assured her.
Night had almost completely fallen as they reached the edge of the
rockface, it loomed up above them into the inky blackness. The stunted
tree gave scant shelter, but at least they could see anything and anyone
heading their way from the town, and with the solid rock at their backs
felt somewhat reassured.
"What happens now?" Jadi was impatient to solve the case and be home in
time for tea and medals.
"We wait," Richards settled his back to the rockface. "You watch that
direction, I'll watch this way. And keep your phaser drawn. We can't
trust these people - not an inch."
Jadi, for once, did as she was told and leant against the rockface beside
him. "Getting cold, isn't it?"
"Shhhh.." Richards ears were straining for sounds. "I thought I heard
something."
They both listened, but couldn't hear anything like voices, just a few
trickles of pebbles and stone.
"Ow," Jadi brushed her shoulder, "Stop throwing things."
"I'm not," Richards snapped back. "What's..."
He got no further, as a shower of pebbles hit his shoulders and he looked
up, as everything seemed to freeze and then move in slow motion.
A huge boulder was falling down towards them, bumping against the face as
it smashed it's way downwards.
"MOVE!" Richards gave Jadi a mighty shove, sending her flying, out of
it's path.
He dived himself, hardly daring to breathe, in a desperate scrabble.
The boulder finally hit the ground, crashing into the tree, completely
destroying it, breaking off into several pieces.
"JADI..." Richards called. "Are you okay."
There was silence, then a small, shocked voice said, "I think so..."
"Thank Christ for that," he dived around the rock, now embedded firmly
into the ground. "Where are you?"
"Here. I think... I've twisted my ankle," the voice came back.
Jadi was lying on the ground, and Richards knelt down beside her, "Can
you move?"
"I don't know. I think I'm more shaken than anything," she passed a hand
over her face. "And my head is bleeding, I reckon. I felt some shards of
rock hit me."
"Okay...." he helped her upright, Her ankle was indeed showing signs of
swelling, but after some painful manipulation, it didn't seem broken.
"Wait here," he tapped his commbadge again, "Chief... we've had a
problem.."
After Richards had explained, and Jinti had cursed, and Jadi had had to
assure her personally she was okay, Jinti gave orders. "Get back to the
town as soon as you can. Good job Jadi is a little 'un, you'll probably
have to carry her. Mike and the medic crews are workin' in a medical
centre in town, so link up with them. He can treat Zellers, and you can
hang together fer tonight."
"It was a set-up, wasn't it, Chief?" Richards said quietly.
"Yup, it shore sounds like it," Jinti gloomily confirmed. "Reckon someone
don't want us ta find whut we're after. An' they wuz quite happy ta
squish ya both ta keep ya out of the way permanently."
"On the other hand, that does kind of prove that there *is* something to
be found," Richards tried to look on the bright side. "Reckon we ought to
tell the Captain."
"I'll tell her," Jinti said, "She's gone ta see that Jackson chap, so I
ain't gonna comm her 'till she checks in again. I'll fill her in an' see
whut she wants us ta do next."
"Sure," Richards was hoisting Jadi to her feet.
"In the meantime, get to the medical centre. And fer goodness sakes,
don't let yerselves get jumped on the way back."
Jinti closed the commlink and quickly tapped in a duty report for Chess.
Damn. The first action and she'd been sitting it out. She went to console
herself with a pint of Ancient Schlong Dubble.
=/\= Scavenger's Hub - Jackson Residence =/\=
The sixth display case was empty. Or maybe it was the seventh. Chess
stifled a yawn and pointed at the emptiness, "Don't tell me, Jackson's
Invisibility Cloak, right? Or is this reserved for certain lost
treasure?"
"Very amusing, captain," Jackson said without trace of a smile. "By all
accounts *certain* treasure wouldn't fit in there."
"And the invisibility cloak?" Chess was trying to keep things light and
amusing.
"Is hardly plausible." Not so amused.
"Well, there's so much romance and fiction about these days, almost
anything seems possible."
"You mean the Resurrection casket?"
Chess blinked, taken off-guard that Jackson had brought it into the
equation so abruptly. She nodded casually, "What else? Yes, that's
exactly what I mean. Of course."
"No, Captain, this case contained some impressive artefacts which came
into my possession recently and are currently being restored."
"Ah, right." Chess wondered if she ought to follow up on the casket, but
decided to let Jackson play it his way for now.
They moved along and Jackson pointed to another display case which was
definitely not empty.
It was a screaming man. Or rather, it was a stylised metal sculpture of a
man. He seemed to be covered in some viscous liquid that had poured over
him and was now dripping and sliding down and off his body. The features
were blurred and distorted, but the ,mouth was open and the eyes wide in
unmistakeable terror.
"It's by Grunhardt," Jackson said, as if that explained everything.
"Depicting the death of Captain Galandel. His ship, the Wayfarer, held
out against my ancestor Jackson for almost seventeen hours. That was his
reward, according to the story. Covered in boiling lead as he tried to
get to the escape pods."
"Nasty," Chess said quietly.
"You think so?" Jackson leaned forward as if to consider her opinion. "I
rather like it."
"I meant it was nasty what happened to Galandel," Chess explained. "The
sculpture is...extraordinary. Though I don't think I could say I liked
it."
"Well, that's a shame. But art comes down to personal taste, doesn't it?
Now, let me see you out," Jackson guided Chess towards the door.
Chess tried to look back over her shoulder, along the length of the
display room still unexplored. "But there's so much more," she mildly
protested, wondering how to bring up the Resurrection Casket again.
Or was there something that Jackson didn't want her to see?
"Another time, Captain. I'm a busy man."
Chess decided it was time to push the issue, "We were talking about
certain lost treasure - that I might be interested in purchasing," she
said with a significant look.
"Let me give you my card. You can call me for a longer appointment and I
can show you the rest of my collection whilst we discuss..possible
business."
"Oh, I'm free most of the time," Chess gave a shrug. "At least, until the
Caledonia has to set off again. Business is business."
Jackson just handed her a card.
"Thanks," Chess didn't look at it, just stuffed it into her jacket
pocket. "That's really useful. Although I do know where you live."
Jackson gave a thin smile and guided her towards the door. "Until next
time, Captain."
Chess found herself back out on the porch, looking at Goon Number One.
"Such a pleasant man," she murmured neutrally.
The Goon simply moved his hand closer to his holster, to indicate that
she really ought to be moving along.
"Nice meeting you, too," she murmured as she strode back down the
driveway.
On the way back into town she turned the odd meeting over in her mind.
The most significant discovery had been that something called the
Resurrection Casket did, apparently exist. But whether Jackson owned it
to sell, or was trying to acquire it for his own collection of ancestral
memorabilia, was as yet undetermined.
She would definitely want to pay Jackson another visit, only maybe next
time it would be more surreptitious. And she definitely wasn't going
alone.
She'd let the dust settle for a day, check in with the others so they
could pool information, and then maybe it was time they executed a raid
on the premises.
The figure of the man in molten lead strayed into her mind, though. Had
that been a subtle warning?
=^= Infirmary =^=
The rocking chair wasn't the most comfortable but it did nicely. The big
windows gave him a good view on the vineyard and the lake. The baby in
his arm, sleeping and often smiling. What could she dream about, was she
even aware that her dad had her, probably, the body heat is something the
babies identify very well. He hear his wife turning and slow down hoping
she didn't wake up, she needed the sleep. As he look at her, she was
gorgeous, she gave birth like a pro, he was so proud of her. So proud
that his life was exactly on track.
The sun was making the room look majestic, the wooden floor and ceiling
gave it a relaxing look. He was surprise to see all the flowers blooming
and even see a few deer with their young eating the grass. The view was
disturb by a voice.
"What's her name?" It was her again, the unconscious Verolian.
"We're still under negotiation, not wanting to reveal it.
"Congrats for the baby" she said smiling
"Thanks" now it wasn't the same, he knew he was dreaming. He had the
feeling of deception but soon enough the joy of being a father came back.
"Did you think about what we talk about" she said sitting near the
window.
"Not so loud, you'll wake her up" pointing at Caz.
"Sorry..." lowering her voice.
"Yes, but didn't make a decision yet, I'll need more time" he said
looking at his baby.
"Sorry to disturb you again" she said smiling as she left by the door
this time.
As she did, Caz open her eyes " You ok Hon?"
"I'm fine, go back to sleep..." smirking at her. As he rock back he wake
up suddenly. Vivianne was in front of him.
"Yes, Vivianne" annoy that she wake him up.
"Sir, your sleeping"
"Yes, it was a long night with the tests" he answered.
"The staff is starting to ask allot of questions , witch I don't have
answer too. You spend so much time here, reports are late, the shop is
disorganize and patient are complaining!" The anger could be seen.
"Look Vivianne , I'm sorry about this but a ship with unconscious body
inside is kind of a priority. The captain ask me to work on it and I'm
working as fast as I can. Tell them I'm busy and that I'll make it up to
them once my research is finish" He smile and grab he hand." Please"
"Alrigth but they're concern, I'm concern, come back to us quickly as
possible and in good health" she turn and walk out of the office.
He smile, they were concern that nice. He relax again and close his eyes.
-=- SB BoB Science -=Tom sunk into his seat behind his desk, hugging the pads close....
...’Looking for some hot stuff, baby, tonight....’ The music was heavy in
the air, as the disco ball span producing the sparkly effect of retro
movies in the roller rink.
Tom was doing his best to keep upright as his gold medallion glinted as
it nestled next to the one chest hair. He was about to go flying, head
first into the advertising hoardings around the rink.
“Weeer...ow....woooahhhhhhhhhh,” he found himself rollers over rear,
doing a somersault over the barriers. “Ow, my arse.....”he stood
confused, rubbing his derriere under the purple moleskin suit. “That
hurt....”
“Not too much, I trust?” was the enquiry from a rather soothing and
gentle voice.
“One shall get over it,” Tom replied looking up with a rather pained
expression.
The figure smiled serenely to nod.
“I do beg your pardon, but you ring bells,” Tom tried his best to think
so as to prevent concussion. “The ship, aren’t you one of the would
ceased to exist, in a state of suspended motion, people?” he asked.
“A correct assignation,” the figure returned. “ From the planet Verola.
As your crew have so cleverly worked out. my We are the Verolians. From
the Delta Quadrant, through a wormhole that opens just inside the Typhon
Expanse. We have come a long way, to have chanced upon this base.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Tom looked the figure up and down. “Without
sounding like a counsellor with an attitude problem. This is *my* dream,
in my head. What, pray, are you doing in it?” he asked with an arched
brow.
The figure retained the serene, at peace smile. “This is a state of
ascension,” he went on to describe the state. “And in chancing upon this
base, we feel there may be a select group who may be of appropriate stock
to be a part of it.”
“ A state of Utopia,” Tom mused, re-arranging his flap like collar. “
Perfection embodied, as yet not countered in the known, empirical and
positivist world. That would be a marvel in itself.”
“A marvellous marvel,” the figure nodded. “To be enjoyed and savoured,
Mister Katt.”
Tom was intrigued as Earth, Wind and fire filled the air. Albeit not all
at once.
“Savour it, Scientist......”
With that, Tom vaulted over the hoardings,more than ready to shake his
thang......
......or at least in his dream, as he curled up under his desk.
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue, Birmingham, Earth -=Kiwi sat with his head on his paws, looking at the large imposing door.
He was waiting for the aborted throttle of the Chelsea tractor followed
by the crunch of size five boots on the gravel. Only the dog had been
waiting for a while now, and would be appear to be waiting for some time
yet.
“Suraj!” Dhillon came out into the hall, “Kiwi, man, she’s late, deal
with it. I have to.” he stepped over the dog to stand on the stairs. “Oi,
Sprog. Come down, I am not heating that spag bol up again.Damned
replicators,”Dhillon muttered under his breath.
Hopping over the fluffed up all black, with a few splodges of white,
bundle, Dhillon reareated into the lounge.
Kiwi cocked his head, hearing something roar into Acacia Avenue. His paws
padded gently across the carpet to poke his wet nose under the door. It
wasn’t her. Whimpering, Kiwi returned back to his post.
“’Lo, Kiwi,” Suraj bounded down the stairs, complete with light sabre
that had been a present from the Secret Santa on BoB. “You want feeding?”
he scratched the skew whiff white ear. “Don’t tell mummy it’s from de
replicator...”
“Rrruf,” Kiwi agreed in conspiracy.
Dhillon was flicking the holobox, to glance the at the clock above the
fireplace. She hadn’t even taken the car, choosing to walk into the
Mental Health Trust in Brindley Place. Half past six, she should have
been back an hour ago.
“Clock watching, Daddy?” Suraj slurped in a spaghetti strand, it smacking
across his face.
“Yip, She’s too late. Wonder where she went.” His father nodded. “Gonna
see if Secretary knows.” Keeping his eye on the football ticker tape that
told him that Birmingham city were three nil down in Kuala Lumpur, he
tapped the comm. Unit in the corner. “Suraj, go in the other room, will
you....”
Suraj shrugged to crawl off the sofa and depart.
“Doctor Dharmas office, James Fairchild, can I help?” James did his best
not to sound annoyed. He was on his own way home, having done some rather
unnecessary but requested overtime. The doctor swanned off when the fancy
took her, leaving him to deal with the office.
“Secretary, it's Dhillon Havane. Was wondering if-”
“No, she’s not here, screwing me,” James cut him off. “If she was, do you
think I’d answer your call?” he immediately kicked himself. That was
still a sore subject. “I’m sorry,” he continued clearing his throat.
“Doctor Dharma left sometime ago.”
“Right,” Dhillon replied, somewhat put out by the response. “Thank you,
and I’ll see to it you get fired when she gets back.”
“If you would, with a months notice and full pay.” James returned, “Only
I really don’t like you.”
“Bye, Secretary.” Dhillon cut off the channel. He thought about it a
moment. Jay.Nah. she wouldn’t. Would she? Oh, she would....
“Jay, you in?” Dhillon asked opening the next channel to get hold of his
accountant.
“I am, what can I do you for?” Jay answered, flicking through various
fiscal reports. “Only, I’m in the middle of something.
“My ex-wife. Not happening to be in the middle of that, would you?”
Dhillon really wasn’t any good at barely concealed jealousy.
Thinking about it a moment, Jay considered his reply. “No, and that’s
probably the one thing I could never bill you for. She ended it a long
time ago.”
“Fair enough, had to ask. VAT forms?” Dhillon asked, as though that was
important.
“Next week, good bye, Dhillon.”
With those to bases covered, he still wasn’t happy. Leaving the lounge,
he found himself looking at the door next to the cupboard under the
stairs. The heavy oak panelled door that lead to stairs into the doctors
study. The study into to which he was forbidden to enter at all costs.
So much so, that Kiwi had scrambled across to stand between him and the
door. There wasn’t much to Kiwi as of yet. He was only a young scrap of a
Collie. Yet he did his best, giving a gnarled look, baring pink gums and
puppy teeth. Arihana had gone to great lengths to condition this
response.
“Like that gonna work,” Dhillon shook his head. “Here, fetch,” reaching
into the kitchen, he tossed a biscuit towards the front door.
“Ruuuuf,” Kiwi bounded after it, more than distracted.
Standing back, Dhillon was about to kick the door down.
“Daddy, nooooooo!”was the very Bollywood movie response from Suraj who
had bounded out of the other lounge and towards his parent. “You can’t,
can’t go in dere,” he wiped away tomato sauce to plead.
“I can, and I will. Go finish your lunch.” Dhillon dismissed his son, to
send the door off it’s hinges.
Suraj did as he was told, retreating slowly into the other lounge.
Dhillon ambled slowly down the stairs.
“INTRUDER ALERT. SECURITY BREACH. INTRUDER ALERT. SYSTEM LOCKDOWN.”
Dhillon seemed impervious to the red and black klaxons as he threaded
down the stairs. There was a sudden thudding sound as the door above
seemed to snap back to its hinges. He stopped and turned, the door had
closed.
“CHAMBER SEALED. INITIALISING SECURITY SEQUENCE.”
Still, it did nothing to perturb him, as he continued down the stairs. He
took a precursory glance around. Looked fairly innocuous. A couch, a
bookcase. Her desk, the portrait of Ryan Giggs on the wall. Dhillon crept
forwards towards the desk.
Only to come face to face with the security sequence. Or part of it. The
spit of *that* Major from BoB. The one, who in tandem with the King
BoBCat, had once upon a time proceeded to kick seven shades of yellow at
him.
“Oh, that is funny,” his lips curled into a smirk. “Nick, I can deal
with. She will never get over *him*. You, on the other hand...” Dhillon
shook his head to pass his hand through the hologram. “Of all the people
to hero worship.”
The hologram was wittering on about something. Response something,
security unit, yada yada was all Dhillon heard.
“Like I care,” Dhillon threaded through the image and towards the desk.
The one and only time he would survive an altercation with a marine.
Well, *that* marine. Sitting in the high back checked, he looked for the
de-activation panel. “Now let’s see...”
“This is Lucien Jerome,” The screen of the console had come alive. “This
is a category A security breach, and a rapid response unit is being
scrambled....”Lucien, the colonial valet, stopped to squint. “Mister
Havane, is that you?” he asked.
“Yes, and how do I make Taff over there,” he nodded towards the image now
holding an AK47, “stop? Just looking for Arihanas’ MOT Certificate,” he
lied. “I wrote her car off again.”
Lucien chuckled on screen. “I’ll do it from this end. Remote access, you
see.”
“Make him stop, will you, makes my pride hurt.” Dhillon rifled around the
desk.
“As you wish,” Lucien tapped a few keys, as the image in the study
disappeared. “For future reference, it’s the co-ordinates for the New
Colonial site around the corner from Jupiter.”
“Thanks, Lucien, goodbye,” Dhillon switched the screen off, leaving
Lucien somewhat bemused.
“Now, there has to be something. Case histories,” piles of padds were
being moved. “Kinsey and Sexual Behaviour in the Human Male, what
happened to porn? Journal of Military something, Command Bolero Theory in
its second edition. Revised for Flagships....Sales particulars, Surajs’
birth certificate for deeds....CVAS Minutes.”
A stack was picked up and launched towards the portrait of the one time
Welsh Winger on the wall. Sliding his hands across the table, Dhillon
cleared the desk. Console included. In this case, therapy so did not
work.
Cradling his chin in his hand as he rested his elbows on the desk,
Dhillon could hear that nagging doubt in his head. That voice he hadn’t
heard in a while. Sitting back, he found there were drawers to be rifled
through. Pulling them out, one by one, three were emptied onto the desk.
“I need to know where the hell she went, ”Dhillons’ mind were racing.
“Nick should have known better, I’d have told, him. All he had to do was
ask. Once a slapper, always a slapper.” There was a melee of things
piling high on the desk.
“Lecture notes, third year crime, first year child developmental. Footie
programes.”That voice was still going, still nagging. “Share
certificates, plan of action for CVAS, Map? Branches of, what is the
soddin’ CVAS,” Dhillon asked out loud, “What’s it gotta do with you?”
Again, the debris was shoved off the desk. Dhillon stood and walked
around the desk towards the book case and the portrait. “What you hiding,
Mister Giggs?” he asked to put his hands on the frame to pull it from the
wall.
“Hmmm, lookee here,” there was that smile on his face to see the secure
panel. Another panel for a code. “Lets see...one five oh four two three
seven eight....”the panel clicked open. The smile on his face got slight
more macabre as he looked inside. Small arms, a stiletto. A small shoe
box.
“Looks like a treasure hunt.” Dhillon rubbed his palms together to
retrieve the black box.
Moving towards the couch, he walked over the contents of the desk. The
lid was taken off and tossed over shoulder as he proceeded to take a seat
on the deep cranberry couch. Putting his feet on the coffee table,
Dhillon had a good nose in the box.
First there was piece of paper. Dog eared, and tear stained. The ink was
starting to run.”You say mult-eye, I say multi....”Dhillon read in an
almost furtive whisper, turning them over to see more words. “For richer,
for poorer. Wedding vows,” he sighed slowly. “The ones you broke.”
A watch, a broken one. “You cheapskate, a broken watch,” the mechanism
was stuck at midnight, or close to mid day. There was receipt too, dated
the thirteenth of February. “Ah, valentines. You strange woman.”
Jewellery. “Pretty, orange blossom,” Dhillon took it the pendant in his
palm. The clasp on the chain was broken. “Easily fixed,” he determined,
putting it into a pocket. She still wore her wedding band and engagement
ring. He just never asked why. Two constants as well as the watch she
always wore. The silver bezel and scratched glass face that had once
belonged to her mother. The strap would be replaced from time to time.
Brown leather and nine holes.
A photograph of her and Nick, scorched around the edges. Torn in half,
but repaired with sticky tape. Flipping it over, he saw that it was taken
in Rio.
These were all nick nacks. Momentos. What intrigued him was the journal.
A leather bound tome with a lock. Putting the box to one side, Dhillon
took it into his hands, tugging at the lock, trying to get it open. Only
it wasn’t happening.
Stiletto. Dhillon remembered there was
the safe, he retrieved it. The leather
Especially ones who were called Shambo
Hindu Temples in Wales. Only in Wales.
one in the safe. Bundling over to
was tough, just like any old cow.
and were worshipped as deities in
Nice people them, The Welsh.
The blade scratched at the lock, fraying the leather strap. “Open
sesame,” He shuffled back over to the couch to settle himself again.
"Let's have a look," Dhillon crossed his legs at the ankles. "'How to
deal with Cade Vaughan and not get thrown into the brig'" He had to bite
his tongue, before tearing the leaves out. "What is with the girls of BoB
and this fascination with Cade Vaughan? What's he got that us others
haven't. Honestly, you'd think the guy was Superman."
He flicked forwards a couple of pages.
'The CVAS has operatives all over the place. Infilitrated the BoB Branch.
They are all well and truly off their rockers. They all want a piece of
Cade Vaughan. Lord only knows why. Well, I can guess, actually. There are
two reasons why I've joined. First of all. His brain. I'm not leaving
this station til I have half a temporal lobe in my grubby mitts. They
want his body, I want his brain.
Second of all. This is Cade Vaughan. He goes around rescuing most things
in a skirt. Whilst I'm happy, and no longer a damsel in distress, one day
I can perhaps return the favour. Third party risk trumps everything. If
he knew half of what they had planned, he may be able to stop sleeping
with one eye open. Heard something downright freaky today. Boxers. Why on
earth would you want his boxers?'
More tearing as the pages were screwed up into a ball and tossed away. He
continued reading. Following the copper plate penmanship made the voice
in his head louder and more pertinent.
'I've blown it. It's over. All over with Nick. Let's look at this way.
Cars. Suraj has this thing where he pretends he has a garage full of
them.
First of all, we have all wanted to test drive the Ferarri, but not
actually been able to go through with it. Okay, so most of the girls on
BoB have this innate urge where they swoon, pine, lust after it. The man,
the legend, the Superhero. Cade Vaughan is the target of enough
unrequited obsession to sink a small ship. It's great fun taking the
mickey. I shall hold my hands up here, though. Once upon a time, yes,
would have quite happily swooned, pined and lusted. Well, I supressed
that reflex some time ago now. The bottles of Johnny walker saw to that.
Now, it's hilariously funny. It would also be hideously painful picking a
fight with Her in charge. I am not *that* stupid.
The Mercedes Benz.....my darling Nicholas Reynolds. I wrote that off
pretty damn quick didn't I, and I will be kicking myself for the rest of
my life. The one man who I didn't have to fight. The one man who only had
to smile and it was suddenly all right. Nicholas Reynolds, the brass. The
one that got away. I hope he's happy, where ever he is. I do think of
him. Generally, when Dhillon's pressed the appropriate buttons, but I
like to think he doesn't hear. Who am I kidding? Dhillon knows.
The battered old Ford Prefect....'
Dhillon re-read that introduction.
'...Dhillon. Fords are great cars. Made to last, reliable and fairly good
going. Nothing is made to last with Dhillon. Reliable in that we've come
full circle. But good going? I know that it won't take much for him to
snap. I've only got to look at an male mannaquin and I'm a dead woman.
Bad as he is. He's mine. That's all that matters. After all that is said
and done. He's here. No one else is.'
Moving a few pages on, he came to a more recent entry.
'This is gonna kill me. Five weeks. It will kill me, if I do nothing
about it. I know it will. My body is far too messed up for anything to
survive and for the duration. My head is all over the place. It's not
Nicks. I can say that quite categorically. Nick and I were over well
before this happened. That leaves Dhillon and Jay. Jay. I hope to heaven
this is nothing to do with him. He was a fling. A very quick fling as I
went on the rebound. Morals and Alley cat was always too good a calling
card. Dhillon. This would make him snap and then some.
This baby will not go full term. I know it won't, but I won't be having
an abortion either. Not again. My head won't be able to cope. Dhillon
would run and quickly. Would take Suraj with him, and I can't let that
happen. Not again. So I'm waiting. It's gonna hurt, and yes, this is the
twenty fourth century. We have all the medical advances that you could
wish for. Only that will never ever compensate for the torrid affair that
is human nature. Scars rupture all the time. Doctors know what they have
to do. I've told them.
I'm waiting. Waiting for it to go away.'
Dhillon closed the diary, letting it settle in his head. Standing, he
tucked it into a pocket to return back up the stairs. The study was a
mess. But it didn't matter. He didn't really care. She could deal with it
when she came back.
In his head, a fantasy evolved.......
Dhillon hauled open the trunk of the battered Ford Prefect. "Stop
struggling, struggle, and you only make it harder for yourself, Arihana.
I said stop..."It was easy, easy to unleash a back hand. The sedative was
starting to wear off. The demons in his head wanted this so badly. He was
far too stoned and high to think straight anymore.
"Just you, me and in the middle of no where. You and me, Arihana.How
romantic...." There was that horrible evil in his eyes, better reserved
for a lunatic asylum.
Slamming the trunk down, he dragged her.
By her hair with one hand, the blue crowbar in the other.
Her ankles were bleeding as she was dragged liked a sack. Snaking over
the grass and towards the deserted outbuilding. Her hands were bound, but
she tried to claw at him nonetheless.
Suraj was with his grandparents. For the weekend, whilst his parents got
away for a bit. An overblown romantic gesture that Arihana hadn't thought
twice about.
"And here we are. Our own little love nest," his eyes were glistening
with menace as he hauled her up to a post. "Thought romance was dead.
Well, pretty soon you will be then, but that don't matter. Shall move on
pretty quickly."
The gag had slipped, she would scream. Only for him to clamp his hand
over her mouth. "You can scream all you want. No one coming. They can't
hear you in space." His eyes were as wide as hers. Only difference being,
she was scared. He was stoned.
"No Cade Vaughan and his white charger. No Nicholas Reynolds and the
patience of a saint. Arihana Dharma. You are well and truly screwed."
...the human imagination was a fascinating toy. Was amazing what you
could think about, what you could plot. Fortunately for Dhillon, no one
was about to call the thought police.
He closed the door to the study once he got to the top. He'd burn the
journal. Every last page.
Was all just a fantasy.
Wasn't it?
^=^ Small cubby hole near chocolate stash ^=^
Baxter Mattingly was standing by a cauldron. Three women with long
straggly hair were dropping different types of chocolate into the pot and
stirring it over a low fire.
"Double, bubble, toil and trouble," they said.
"What's that mean?" Baxter asked. "And I don't think you have that quite
right."
"Oh shut up," one witch said. She looked amazingly like Yus. "We're
getting your fondue ready just like you wanted."
"But can't you go any faster?" he asked.
The one who looked like Mulder seemed about ready to spit into the
chocolate. "We've been at this for hours, you cad," she said.
"I don't understand it at all," said the third, one of his cousins. "You
just need to agree with what these people want and we can be providing
you chocolate like this for the rest of eternity. Why are you fighting
it?"
"I'm not fighting it," Baxter said. "It's just that it's too easy. It
isn't real,"
"It will be real," his cousin said.
"No, it can't be real," Baxter said. "I don't think my brain is up to
this discussion. Mulder just pass me a cup of chocolate."
"But we haven't added the eye of newt," Yus stated.
"You toad me you would," Baxter said.
The women glared at him. Baxter, quickly grabbed a jug of chocolate and
ran off. The women spat in the pot in preparation for his return.
Baxter ... his head hit the wall near his chair and he jerked awake. He
was safe. He was right by his favorite chocolate of which he took a large
bite. He yawned. He really should finish those reports. Just one more nap
though.
He touched the communications panel. "Snell, finish my reports, will you?
I'll give you a new cat."
Then without waiting for a reply, Baxter went to sleep.
=/\= Jackson's Whole - Medical centre =/\=
Richards was feeling decidedly irritable by the time he'd carried Jadi
most of the way back into town.
Several wrong turns and incomprehensible instructions later, they made it
to the medical centre, and he placed Jadi down on the ground. "Can you
hop?"
"I expect," she snipped back, less than happy with the whole outcome.
"Can I help you people?" a stern-faced nurse approached, looking
harassed.
"Yeah, please. One of our crewers is moonlighting here," Richards turned
on the charm. "We were seeing a bit of nightlife and had a bit of an
accident. I reckon we could use his expertise. Can you call him?"
"Oh yeah, that'll be Mike," she nodded. "Hang on there. I'll go find
him."
"Much obliged," Richards gave his trademark boyish grin, getting a little
smile in return.
* * * *
Mike was busy as Carol and Tol had to be sent to the surgery department.
He was finishing treating a gentleman that decide to fix a plasma conduit
while it was running, thinking it wouldn't be that difficult and burn
himself. He was really not looking forward at this day since his informer
was assassinated yesterday.
Then the receptionist came in "You have visitors"
"Visitors?" he ask surprise.
"People from your ship" she answer and smile.
"Let them in" he reply wondering what could have happen to them.
"He's in here" she pointed at the door of the room Mike was in. He could
hear her through the door.
"Thanks," Richards helped Jadi hop the last few meters into the room.
"Hey Mike, how you doing?"
"Very good, It's seem your not so lucky" looking at Jadi.
"Ah, Miss Clumsy here took a tumble," Richards kept his voice clear - not
loud, but certainly audible to anyone listening outside, if anyone had
decided to snoop on them. "We were just exploring a bit outside the
township area, a bit of a walk on the wild side you might say, and Jadi
fell amongst some rocks."
Mike made a sign with his head signalling the door still open. "I see..."
Richards gave Mike a look and tilted his head slightly towards the door.
"I'll just close the door a sec, it's not very warm in here is it?" he
casually strolled over and did exactly as he'd said he would.
"Hello? Can I get some treatment?" Jadi gave a tired grin. "My ankle is
twice it's size, I reckon."
"I'll see what I can do" he smile " you may feel a bit of discomfort,
thing here are a bit different then on our ship"
"No probs, I'm always getting injured," Jadi gave a wry smile. "Usually
worse than this, so I can't complain really." She sat down and stuck out
her leg to let Mike do his thing.
Has the ankle was going down in size and color, Mike was making sure
nobody was near "I need to speak to the captain, it's important"
"You and me both, bud," Richards said quietly. "What's your story?"
"Well, an informant of ours was kill last night" he seem concern a this
point As a large boom was here on the door. Everyone could hear Tol
behind cursing the person who lock the door and Carol laughing deeply.
"It makes the Caledonia seem almost sane, doesn't it?" Richards laughed,
then got back to the tale. "An informant killed? How did it happen?
Accident... or worse...?"
"Worse, he was stab at least seven times" He look at the door as Tol open
it "The guard was aware of it but prefer to call it a bar brawl with
consequences."
As Tol came in with a nose bleed "Hey guys" said Tol holding is head
forward. "Next time could you not lock the door, thank you"
"Come here" said Carol as she relock the door "I'll fix you up"
"So then," Richards was pondering, "What d'you make of it? Did they know
you were meeting him?"
Mike started to speak again " I'm not sure if they made the link between
us and the body. We had to treat him the night before." Said mike
ignoring the presence of Tol and Carol.
Jadi looked up, "He was a patient of yours? That's how you made contact
with him?"
"He mention the casquet multiple time and left a letter to give us a
rendez-vous to give us more info then we find him dead in the alley." At
that point Carol knew what they were referring to and made sure to put
the chair of Tol against the door.
Jadi and Richards exchanged looks, "I think there's a bigger problem than
we might have thought," Richards began.
"Yes...this injury was caused deliberately," Jadi piped up, "I think it
was *us* they were trying to kill."
At that point Mike look very concern " hopefully they didn't wait for us
to arrive on the scene"
Richards took up the story, "We made contact in a bar with some guys who
seemed to know what we were after."
"*I* made contact," Jadi reminded him.
"Yeah, okay, Jadi tarted them a bit," Richards grinned. "They told us to
meet them out of town..." he recounted their adventures. "So, I reckon
they'd gone there ahead of us, and waited until we were in position, then
tried to flatten us with that boulder."
"Wow, dead by boulder, that would had been a first" he tried to put a bit
of humour in the context.
"Maybe there's tons of people after the casket and they're trying to see
off the opposition," Jadi suggested.
"Dunno," Richards shrugged. "But things are getting dangerous."
"I agree, I think it's better to report to the captain before anyone else
get the attention we had."
"I reckon that's best. I told the Chief about what had happened to us, so
she'll be keeping watch out for the Captain anyway to fill her in from
our side of things. But she won't know about your escapade yet, of
course." Richards nodded.
"I'll try to contact her tonight...Want to join us?"
"I'm ready to go" Jadi said fervently.
"Okay," Richards helped Jadi up. "We'll get back to our rooms in town,
and leave you to contact the Captain - unless she contacts you first," he
grinned. "Let us know and we'll meet wherever we have to."
Jadi hobbled out of the room, "I need a drink..."
=/\= Lt Ann Bowers Quarters - USS Enforcer =/\=
Ann Bowers was deliberating between an early night, and a little more
research on the alien text she'd downloaded from the ship that had docked
at BoB several weeks ago.
She'd made little progress on the basic algorithms, and now was losing
interest. The doorchime sounded to break her reverie.
"Come in," she called out, and hastily jumped to her feet when she saw
who her visitor was. "Captain. Is everything alright?"
"It's fine.." Captain Cadwallader strolled in. "I just thought I'd stop
by. How are you?"
A loaded question. Ann gave a guilty start, knowing that outright
rebuttal was futile in the face of Welsh determination.
"I'm..fine, thank you Ma'am," she said cautiously.
Caddie perched on the edge of an armchair. "Ann, you and I have worked
together many years now, and you're one of my best officers. But I can't
help noticing that of late you've been a little out of sorts. And before
you say anything, it isn't just me that's noticed, either."
Ann sighed, then sat back down herself. She should have guessed this was
coming. "It's just...personal matters, I guess."
"Is your son okay?" a flash of concern showed in Caddie's dark eyes.
"Oh, Morrie, yes, he's fine..I spoke to him briefly last week. No
problems there."
"And how about other aspects of your life?" Caddie gave a small smile.
"From what I picked up on the scuttlebutt, things seemed to be going
rather well there."
"Alexi," Ann flushed slightly. "I suppose.. in a way... Captain, I don't
even know how to explain properly. It sounds really stupid..."
Caddie held up a hand, "That's why I came here, Ann, and didn't ask you
to come to my office. This is off the record, and if we can find a way
forward, it'll stay just between the two of us, okay?"
Ann nodded. In a way it would be a relief to speak about it. "As soon as
we left BoB, I started having dreams..."
"Nightmares?"
"No, quite the opposite. Wonderful dreams, about me, and Alexi...and
Morrie, all being a happy family..."
"I suppose that's only natural, a new romance can do that for you,"
Caddie smiled, but still looked puzzled. "But..."
"But..that's the thing, captain. I kept wanting to enjoy my dreams so
much I started turning up late for shifts, and calling in sick.."
"I know," caddie said quietly. "And yet you never visited sickbay, so you
obviously weren't that sick."
"I feel so stupid," Ann gave another sigh. "Acting like a dizzy teenager
with her first romance. I knew what I was doing, but I just wanted to be
happy."
"That much I can understand - sort of, but lately you've not seemed happy
at all."
"Because the dreams have stopped," Ann drooped slightly. "As the weeks
went on, they didn't happen any more, and I missed them so much. I'd try
to sleep, but never dreamt like that again. I snapped at colleagues and
made a few mistakes on duty, it was almost like withdrawal symptoms."
"Mmm, you've got the love-bug bad," Caddie wasn't sure what to make of
it, but then again, matters of the heart were different for everyone.
"And have you mentioned this to Alexi?"
"No!" Ann looked up, startled. "No, and I don't intend to, either. If he
knew how idiotic I was, I'd never be able to look him in the eye again.
No, he mustn't know."
"Okay, okay," Caddie made a placating gesture, "He doesn't have to know,
of course not." She thought for a moment. "I don't think you've spoken
about this to anyone, really, have you?"
"No.. at first I had my dreams so I didn't want to tell anyone, and now I
don't dream, I've been feeling too cranky."
"Then let me make a suggestion. It's not an order, just a suggestion,
from a friend. Why not go and speak with Counsellor K'Sharak, and just
get it off your chest. I'm sure he'll be able to help you put things into
perspective, and you'll probably feel better for it. Yes?"
Ann knew full well that although it might not be an order, it was as near
as dammit. But then again, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. She was
feeling wretched enough for neglecting her duty. "I will, Captain. I
promise."
"Good. Then we'll leave things like that. Maybe I'll stop by again next
week to see how things are going," Caddie smiled and stood up, satisfied.
"And I'll get my act together," Ann gave a slow smile in return. "How
long until we get back to BoB, anyway?"
"That might help, indeed," Caddie chuckled. "We'll be another week
heading out, we'll rendezvous with the USS Gallifrey at the edge of our
sector, and then - if all is quiet - make our way back, retracing this
patrol route. I'd say three, maybe four weeks, and we'll be back at BoB
to resupply."
"I think I can hold out that long" Ann laughed. "I do feel silly. I'm a
grown woman, for goodness sakes."
"It hits us all in different ways," Caddie moved to the door. "I'm glad
we've been able to talk. I'll wish you good night."
After the Captain had gone, Ann pondered for a while. Maybe it was good
that she wasn't dreaming these days - although things had seemed
beautiful, she wanted to experience the reality, with all it's trials and
tribulations.
With a determined look on her face, she crossed to her commconsole to
book an appointment with K'Sharak. It would be good to talk about Alexi
out loud. And she was looking forward to their next long-distance chat as
well, this time with a clear conscience.
"Counsellor's office," the night duty clerk's voice chirped. "How can I
help?"
"I want an appointment with your boss," Ann smiled. "Tell him Lieutenant
Bowers needs a friendly ear..."
-= Verolian Ship=The dreams were as vivid as ever and Vega didn't think she could take it
anymore. She had left security to Esn Snell and decided that best thing
to do would be to go to the ships, where the dreams would probably be a
little better.
She entered the ship and found a seat. She looked around and then smiled,
heading back into the lovely dreamstate....
She found herself next to the four greatest captains of all time.
Janeway, Picard, Kirk, and Sisko. Things were looking very good until she
saw the Verolian. He came over to her as they were chatting and stole her
away.
"I thought you might come back here." He smiled, "Have you decided what
you want to do?"
"Not yet. I mean, there are people here that need me. What about them?"
He gave another smile, so calm, so sweet. "You aren't the only one with
this offer. You can all come with us. We'll make sure you're taken care
forever."
"Somehow I don't really know about that. How come I've never heard about
you people before?"
"We like to keep to ourselves. But every so often we have to come out.
Find new people who we want to join."
"Well let me dream some more and I'll think about it."
"Sure."
Vega went back and started talking to them. They all had interesting
things to say and she just ate them up. There was no greater feeling than
being there and knowing that all was well. BUt the dreams weren't going
to last.
She soon found herself coming out if it. And she didn't feel happy about.
With her not being able to get back to sleep, she decided to go to the
promenade. Maybe she'd find answers there.
=/\= SB BoB - Guard Duty outside docking level =/\=
"So what d'you reckon? Want to take a peek inside?" Barry Trotter gave
Gigi Gomez a nudge. "Go on, you know you want to..."
"Ugh, no thanks," Gigi looked along the corridor. "Anyway, it's offlimits. All they got in there is dead bodies. Who wants to see that, for
goodness sakes?"
"Not me," Jetta Pascoe, a cheerful chubby Lunan finished paying Crewman
Sodov to go off on the morning pastry run. "I don't even like being out
here. Creeps me out, ya know?"
"Yeah...." Gigi knew exactly what she meant.
Barry Trotter was still playing Devil's Advocate, "Come on.. it's not
like Commander Mattingly is going to find out, is it? He's never around
much these days anyway..." he tailed off, perhaps not wanting to have
said it quite so bluntly.
Gigi and Jetta exchanged involuntary glances. The matter of the
disappearing security chief had been noticed, but not commented on
between them. Somehow, it felt wrong... but then again, quite a lot felt
'wrong' these days, and crew were begiining to get confused and more than
a little concerned.
Gigi felt like she was treading on eggshalls. "I know..." she
slowly, "He's probably really busy right now. He was supposed
taking me to see Major Vaughan about that business with Frost
room, but he..isn't around much." She lamely echoed Trotter's
statement.
began
to be
trashing my
earlier
Jetta gave her an odd look, "Maybe Lieutenant Vega could help remind
him," she, too, was feeling her way into the conversation.
"She's...not around much, either," Gigi conceded.
Even thich-as-a-housebrick Trotter couldn't fail to pick up on the
atmosphere in the careful remarks. "Well, if they're busy, it might be
worth having a word with the Captain. She doesn't like that particular
marine much, rumour has it. So she might help out?"
Gigi and Jetta exchanged glances again, "I don't see the Captain around
as much as usual," Gigi hated admitting that. It felt disloyal, but it
was indupitably true.
There was an uneasy silence as they wondered what to say next. Jetta
tried to change the subject. "So hows that holodeck therapy going, Gomez?
Where that counsellor guy told you to go beat up on a hologram of Frosty
the Marine. Do you have to report back to him how it's going or
anything?"
"I tried," Gigi looked stricken, "I hear he's not doing much in the way
of consultations recently." There, they were right back onto the subject.
Jetta winced and tried another tack, "So how's it going with that hot hot
hot doctor? You and him were mates, yeah?" she gave a salacious wink.
Gigi looked glum, "I went into the Infirmary yesterday. His staff said he
was locked away doing research or tests or something. They said.. he
spends a lot of time like that, these days."
Trotter shoved his hands in his pockets. "I got a mate in main
engineering who says that Lieutenant Omar doesn't supervise as much as
she used to. She's usually locked away in her office.. or something..."
"Dammit, what the hell is happening around here?" Gigi burst out. "We're
not going crazy, are we?"
"Don't think so," Jetta muttered. "Don't know what's happening."
"Maybe it's a test..." Gigi was grasping at straws. "Maybe they're doing
it to see how far we go before we say something?"
Barry Trotter, at least, gave the idea serious consideration. "Might
be... I suppose..."
Jetta was more sceptical, "Nah. That'd be nuts. I mean, if we did make a
complaint then - " she broke off, "Actually, who would we complain *to*?
And what would we say, exactly? That our bosses are always busy? That
really does sound nuts. This is BoB, there's always something
happening.."
"Not now, there isn't," Trotter said meaningfully. "And I hope there
isn't anything either, I mean, how can we trust - "
"Enough!" Gigi could feel herself on dangerous ground. "No more talk like
that. You know what I think? I think we're all suffering from too much
safety. No-one is trying to kill us right now, so we're imagining stuff
where it doesn't exist. I don't want to hear any more, alright?"
Since Gigi was the senior crewman on the guard detail, the others
deferred to her decision and nodded. But they all, privately, knew that
they were right. Something *was* weird...
"Grubs up!" respite came with the small, scraggly figure of Crewman Sodov
walking back down the corridor, bearing their morning snacks from
D'Eath's Bakery.
"Custard Slice for you, Gomez," he handed it over. "Cream Horn for
Pascoe," Jetta took her cake.
"Sorry, Barry, they didn't have any Eccles Cake, so I got you a piece of
Bread & Butter Pudding instead, alright?"
"Yeah, cheers, that'll do fine. What you got for yourself?"
"A nice piece of Lardy Cake," Sodov sighed in happy anticipation as he
took the still warm, greasy slab from the bag.
Silence descended for a while. It was hard to worry about anything from
inside the comforts of a Custard Slice.
=^= Dream =^=
François was fixing the vines that was damage while he could see His
lovely wife playing with Kris'tin and Nicolas. The day was sunny and the
wind was warm. He could see some sailing boats on the lake witch was very
spectacular. He decided he had enough and walk toward the rest of the
familly.
"What you playing my love?" The kids look at their father with a bit a
disgust, they did appreciate their mom being call "love" in front of
them. He smile at their reaction
"I'm trying to teach them some basic swordfighting moves," Mulder was
never one for soppy games.
He smile "Make sure not to teach them much, you'll still beat them while
I'll be the one with the bruise, had any plans for today?"
"It's too lovely a day to do anything else except enjoy the scenery," she
slipped her arm through his. "How is our vintage crop coming along?"
"Well if I was a expert I would say great but with my limited knowledge I
would it's coming aliong" he didn't care, he had her and his beautiful
children. " Really they're the most important thing rigth now" pointing
at their children.
"Indeed they are," she smiled fondly at him. "We've been so lucky."
"I can't believe how this life is so perfect" referring to the deal he
could make with the Velonians.
"This life?" Mulder looked puzzled for a moment. "But what other life do
we have, dearest?"
He was caught by her question "None..this one is perfect"
There was a quiet chuckle, "This is the only life I've ever known, isn't
it? Unless we've all slipped into another dimension or something. I think
you've been out in the heat too much, my dear, you're having such
fanciful ideas."
He started to laugh " Me, having ideas, we know who the creative one"
"Now, let's talk about more important things - such as where to go for
our next holiday," she squeezed his arm. "Any ideas?"
"I have good sugestions but we have to think about the budget too..." As
he enjoy her being so close to him. He took her in his arm with the hope
that the moment would last forever.
Again that enchanting laugh, "With the money we both have, we can afford
to go almost anywhere in the universe. You choose," she stroked his
cheek, "You always have the most wonderful taste in places to go."
"How about a trip to africa, I think the kids would appreciate the exotic
wildlife or maybe you're homeworld., it's been a while." He look into her
beautiful eye and kiss her on the cheek.
"Mmm," she snuggled into him, "Either is fine by me. Although Africa is a
bit hot, you know.. us Jaz'Aarians prefer cooler climates. But I'll be
happy to go where you want to go - as long as you're there, then
everything will be perfect anyway."
He couldn't imagine his life without her " Did you know I love you?" he
thought that was a lame sentence to say but that how he felt.
"Every day you tell me," she smiled, "And I never want you to stop.
You'er right, this is perfection. With you in my world, everything will
always work out right."
After her answer he fell like he needed to choose her home planet. " What
about we go home for a few weeks" hoping she would get the subtle
message.
Mulder smiled and wrapped her arms around him, "Home. Yes... it'll be so
good. And I think my mother will want to see me...especially now..."
He turn to look at her " what do you mean?"
Leaning forward, she whispered mischeviously in his ear, "So we can tell
her in person that she's going to have another grand-child."
"Why did you tell me" he was now trying to contain himself from crying.
"I only found out today. I was going to tell you later, but now seemed
the perfect time." She gave a contented sigh, "Do you think you can
manage another addition to the family?"
"Of course" he took her in his arm and lift her. "I love you!"
"I don't know if it'll be a boy or a girl this time.. let's not ask them
to tell us, we'll have a surprise this time," she rubbed her back. "I
think he or she is already starting to make their presence felt."
He put his hand over her's. "just like his mom, energitic!"
"And I'm hungry again. Why don't we round up the children and go see what
the chef has on the menu for dinner tonight?" She linked her arm through
his, "And then we'll sit out on the porch and enjoy the evening - just
you and me, together."
As they walk to toward their house and that the two children ran past
them he feel a small shock in the head. As he blink he was back into the
room with the bodies. For once in his life he wanted to abandon his
medicine for something else....
=/\= SB BoB - Marine Deck =/\=
Gigi trailed after Baxter, hoping fervently that the hated Angel Frost
wouldn't be on guard duty. She didn't want her to be tipped off in
advance.
She was also relieved to be actually facing up to it now - what with
Baxter being so oddly absent from duty so much recently, she was starting
to think he'd forgotten about it. But now all seemed well - at least, he
hadn't yawned much on the way there, though she got the impression that
he hadn't liked being disturbed. But Baxter was a good guy, he did what
was right by her, so she didn't mention anything about her recent
suspicions.
"Ya know, Boss Man, I did kind of think about taking revenge the quiet
way," she said. "You know, go to her quarters and do the same to her. But
I didn't think we'd make it past the guards." She meant herself, Trotter
and Sodov, all of whom had enthusiastically volunteered to go on a
revenge spree if she'd asked them to.
"Not likely," Baxter said.
"And then if we were caught, you'd have had to chew me out. So I guess
this is the best way..." she didn't sound too convinced.
"It's the only way," Baxter agreed, although he smiled. "You know how
upset I get chewing people out and then I'd eat chocolate and gain 40
pounds."
"I just hope Il Hombre is in a good mood," Gigi murmured, with a feeling
that whatever mood he was in now, he wouldn't be in such a good one after
she'd finished.
"We'll ruin it," Baxter agreed.
They approached two guards and Baxter identified themselves and stated,
"We're here to see Major Vaughan. Security business."
The Corporal holding the scanner nodded his head. "Identities confirmed.
Welcome to Camp Nomad, Lieutenant Commander, Crewman. I'll announce you
and Private Wolfe will take you to the skipper's office." The Corporal
turned his head and whistled loudly, causing Fenris to lope over to the
group. He sat down in front of Baxter and gave him the cocked head look
that only dogs can do.
The Corporal looked down at Fenris with a grin. "Go see Major Vaughan,
Fenris." The dog got up and immediately started walking across the Parade
Ground towards the bank of offices on the far side.
Making their way across the Marine Bay, Gigi kept a wary eye out for
Angel. But there was no sign of her, which came as something of a relief.
She couldn't help smiling at the dog, though. She wondered if Vega's dogs
were similarly well trained.
"There's the office," Baxter said. "I thought they'd have everything
painted greenish."
Approaching, he said, "Major, got a minute?"
Cade tossed a treat through the air for Fenris and dismissed him as if he
was any one of his other troopers. "Mr. Mattingly, Crewman Gomez, come on
in and have a seat. What can the Marines do for the Security Department?"
Now the time had come, Gigi was more nervous than she cared to admit, and
looked anxiously at Baxter for reassurance.
Baxter gave her a warm smile and winked at her. He moved his lips to
whisper, "It'll be just fine."
Once they were settled in front of the major, Baxter explained the
situation. "Things seem to point to one of your marines, Sir," he said.
"That's why we're here. It's a rather uncomfortable situation."
"Uncomfortable is not the adjective that I'd use, Commander," Cade said
with obvious ire in his voice. The anger, though, was not directed at
either of the gold shirts in front of him. "These are serious
allegations. Who do you suspect and why?"
Gigi swallowed hard then said in almost a whisper, "Lance Corporal Frost,
sir." She gave a little couch to clear her throat, and explained what had
happened between them to spark off the bad blood, finishing with "I know
it was her, sir."
Cade sat, stunned for a moment. But, deep down in his mind, he knew he
shouldn't be. "Frost," he whispered. He thought he'd made progress with
her, but obviously, the rumours he'd been hearing were true. She was
settling into her old patterns. He shook his head as if the movement
would clear the thoughts. "Go on."
Gigi opened her tricorder, giving evidence she felt on firmer ground. "I
did a full forensic sweep of the room, sir," she didn't add that she'd
had to get the manual out to check exactly what had to be done. "I found
most of a footprint mark in some of the paint where it had spilled onto
the floor in one place. I uploaded the image, and it came back as a
marine-issue boot, not Starfleet navy. And going by the dimensions, it
confirmed it was a size seven. There are several female marines in the
personnel database registered as that size, and Frost is one of them. So
that was part of it."
She continued, "I did a sweep of the corridor outside, as well," she
could imagine the scene in her mind's eye. "Part of the way along, I
found a long blonde hair. This is just conjecture, but *if* someone had
come in wearing a hood of some kind to stop hairs falling onto the scene,
then when they were a few steps away outside, they'd take it off so's not
to attract attention, and then one could have fallen out. There wasn't a
root so I couldn't get a DNA trace off it, but if studied, the
composition would match Frost's, I bet."
Moving to the last piece of evidence she then said, "In my bathroom, I
got a partial fingerprint from some of my broken cosmetic bottles, where
someone must have swept them away. Nothing else had been touched by hand,
maybe it was an afterthought. I ran it through the computer, and although
it was only a partial, several pointers are a complete match to Frost's.
Put it this way, Major, everything adds up, and if I had more time I'm
sure I could do more to prove it in hard evidence. But she's the only one
with motive to do such a thing, and I'm sure we could prove opportunity
too"
Vaughan listened to all the evidence that Gomez had accumulated. "Sounds
like a slam-dunk case, forensically speaking." He looked at Baxter. "Am I
correct in that assumption?"
"Yes, Major," Baxter said quietly. "I thought it was pretty evident."
Cade nodded his head and stabbed his finger on the intercom button.
"Master Guns, where's Frost right now?"
+Training simulation in the holodeck,+ came the slightly tinny, but
immediate, reply.
"End the cycle and bring her to my office, personally."
+Aye, aye, sir.+
Cade took a deep breath, stood, and walked around to stand in front of
Gigi. "Crewman, you have my most sincere apologies for this incident." He
glanced from her face to Baxter's and back again. "Rest assured, young
lady, that I will make this right."
Gigi was glad she was sitting down, because she might have sunk to the
floor anyway - Il Hombre was apologising to *her*. Her eyes shone with
hero-worship and she breathed, "That's fine, sir. I know you will."
Angelina Frost grumbled to herself as she had to stop midway through the
holo-training programme. She'd been doing so well.... but maybe Vaughan
had something more important for her than just training.
She didn't like the way she was escorted by Gideon, though, and a small
seed of unease was planted.
This got worse when she entered the office and saw Gigi. ~Little bitch,
Nasty, tell-tale little cow~ she glared, but tried a casual. "You wanted
to see me, Major?" and gave a casual, superior look towards Gigi. "What's
*she* doing here?"
"What she's doing here, Corporal, is telling me a very disturbing tale,"
he said icily. "And also showing me some rather damning evidence." He
stopped and stared at her for a moment. "YOU WILL STAND AT ATTENTION IN
THE PRESENCE OF COMMISSIONED OFFICERS," he thundered, causing an echo in
the small office.
Angel gave a gasp as she snapped to attention. It was true, then. She'd
been ratted out. How? She'd been so careful. She kept rigid, her mind
frantically turning over options. Lie? Confess? Put the blame on someone
else?
Gigi nearly jumped to attention herself when Vaughan shouted, and only
just caught herself from rising and making a fool of herself. Suddenly,
she was very, very glad she wasn't on the wrong side of the Major. She
just sat, quiet and wide-eyed, wondering what was going to happen.
Before anything went further, Baxter spoke as if to not one. He didn't
look at the corporal, at the major or at Gigi. "We have a lot of good
natured rivalry between the marines and security," he said. "I even cause
a lot of it. It keeps both groups on the top of their game and can
provide some fun. It should never be supposed, however, that we are not
two departments who are a team. I just wanted to say that, Major, so
these two would know. Sorry to interrupt."
"Quite right, Mr. Mattingly. Quite right." Cade gave a barely perceptible
nod to Baxter before turning a steely gaze onto his Marine. "Lance
Corporal Frost, did you enter Crewman Gomez's quarters without
authorization for the purpose of committing malicious destruction of
private property, or was the destruction an afterthought to your act of
burglary?"
After barely a second's thought, Angel decided to play for time, until
she knew what evidence they had, "With respect, sir, that accusation
assumes that I did enter the premises. Unless that can be substantiated,
I - "
Cade held up a hand and stopped her. "Lance, I... We have forensic
evidence that points conclusively to your involvement. As far as I'm
concerned, your guilt has already been established. Besides your actions,
my greatest concern is that this festering pocket of cancer around you
has started to spread." He stabbed a finger on the intercom. "Bring them
in, Gideon."
Heads swivelled as the door opened and Canowicakte marched PFC's
Ecclestone, Pertwee, and Tennant into the room. Cade looked at them for a
moment before speaking. "Was I wrong? Did I make an error in judgement in
giving Lance Corporal Frost leadership of a team?" The questions were
obviously directed at the three Privates.
Ecclestone, after a quick glance at the others, spoke firmly, "I would
never assume that a senior officer's judgement was wrong. Sir." There
might have been a touch of defiance there.
Jonno Pertwee said mildly, "No sir, Lance Corporal Frost has always shown
good leadership qualities."
Davy Tennant stuck out his lower lip in thought and blew upwards sharply
before adding, "Learnt a lot from the Lance, sir."
Cade nodded his head and sat back onto the edge of his desk. He looked up
at Baxter and Gigi. "Could you two excuse us for a moment. Although you
represent the injured party in this case, I would prefer not to air my
unit's dirty laundry in front of you."
Giving Baxter a quick glance that said, 'let's get out of here', Gigi was
already scrambling to her feet. Il Hombre was magnificent and terrifying,
to her mind. Much as she wanted to see Frost torn to shreds, she knew
that this was as far as she could watch. After Baxter made a formal
thanks and farewell, Gigi paused before they exited the room. "I
understand, Major. And I respect that. A lot."
"Thank you." He waited until the door had shut before he turned on the
three Privates again, leaving Frost braced at attention and ignored for
the moment. "Did you three know about this?"
"Don't know what you mean, sir?" Ecclestone was at his most bullish.
Cade stepped forward, staring him in the eye. "You're lying, Ecclestone."
There was a moment's silence. Ecclestone didn't look left or right, but
came to his own decision. There was no point in lying blankly, the Major
knew and they were all toast now anyway. In an attempt to lessen the
damage he said flatly, "Just some surveillance, sir. For training
purposes. On Ensign Snell and Crewman Gomez. Academic exercise, sir."
Cade turned on Pertwee. "Surveillance? On a respected officer of this
station as well as Crewman Gomez? Did you participate?"
Since Ecclestone had caved somewhat, Pertwee saw that this wasn't the
time to prevaricate. Not daring to look at Angel, he said quietly, "As
Ecclestone says, sir, a training effort."
"What was your role in this, Tennant?"
A muscle twitched at the side of Tennant's mouth, and he did look at his
co-accused, looked down, then looked up again. "Harmless surveillance
sir. According to the handbook. Subjects knew nothing about it. No harm
done, sir."
Cade backed off and returned to his desk. He sat down, leaving the room
in silence for more than a minute. When he moved again, it was to pop up
his computer screen and glance at Canowicakte. "Ecclestone, pack your
gear and report to the Master Gunnery Sergeant at 1600 for outprocessing.
You're out of the Marines. Pertwee, Tenant, turn in your rank tabs.
You're back to unrated Privates and will be reassigned to supply duty."
"NO!" the word burst from Angel before she could evn think about it. "No.
Stay where you are," she gave Cade a despairing look. "Sir...."
Ecclestone, Pertwee and Tennant were caught mid-step. They froze. Vaughan
was the boss. What he said went. But Angel was their team leader and they
responded instinctively to the note of authority in her voice. But if
Vaughan said go, then they should go. Their faces were a study in 'oh
crap what do we do?' looks.
Cade suppressed the rage enough so that it didn't manifest itself in his
face. The result was a serene sternness that was even more fearsome for
those that knew his moods. Canowicakte made a point to the others by
taking a step back towards the wall. "Master Guns. Did a Lance Corporal
just countermand a Major's order?"
"Yes, sir."
"I thought so." The full weight of Vaughan's hardened eyes turned on
Frost. "Explain yourself in the next sixty seconds, Frost, or by God,
I'll have you thrown out of an airlock for mutiny."
Angel was not a coward. She was spiteful, arrogant, devious and
malicious, but not a coward. She said clearly, "Sir, I take full and
absolute responsibility for the actions of my team. They were following
my orders. They had no notion of any plans. They were innocent parties to
this. The blame is mine and mine alone."
"By their own admission, they took part in surveillance on respected
members of the Security Department. That makes them anything but
innocent, Frost."
She knew she'd not told the whole truth, and she knew they all knew it.
But even Vaughan couldn't prove that she'd told her three team members
what she intended to do, so she pressed that home. "Any penalty should be
mine to bear, sir. I repeat, my team are innocent of anything but some
rather unorthodox surveillance, without any knowledge of what I intended
to use the information for."
The three privates looked at her, their faces not daring to show any
emotion. They understood what she was saying was professional suicide,
and she knew it too. But it had to be said. Even in her nasty little
sense of morality, she could not bear to let a fellow marine suffer for
her actions. She seethed with hatred for Gomez and all the security
department, but she would do anything to protect her own.
"It's all my fault, sir," she repeated into the silence. "I'm to blame.
Completely."
Cade sighed heavily, clearing his mind and then glanced at Gideon. He
nodded his head imperceptibly. The Nomads' first sergeant stepped forward
and tore the rank tabs from Ecclestone's, Pertwee's, and Tennant's
collars. As he finished, he whispered to Tennant, "You disappoint me,
boy." Gideon stepped back.
Vaughan looked at them. "What do I do now? I have a team leader insisting
that illegal actions were all her own. This is backed up by her team,
which means that they are either lying to a senior officer, a courtmartial offense, or they are too stupid to have divined what their
leader's plan was, which is an even greater crime in this unit." He sat
back in his chair. "In the absence of other evidence, I am forced to
conclude that the team had no knowledge of Lance Corproral Frost's
actions, which makes them too ignorant to keep on the line."
Jono Pertwee gave a silent sigh - he'd been doing so well recently, and
this was a bed, bad situation. Ecclestone looked bullish - he'd been up
and down the rank chain, and the pecking order, so much in his inglorious
career he should have known it was too good to last. Tennant looked
crestfallen, and his usual chiry demeanour was completely wiped. He
didn't see any way out of this. But they all kept silent. They knew that
Angel had, at least, done what she could to repay the damage she'd caused
them. Life sucked, but at least it sounded like they'd still be in the
Nomads.
Cade leaned back forward activated his computer screen. "As of this date,
Privates First Class Ecclestone, Pertwee, and Tenant are reduced in rank
to Private. Their security clearances are immediately revoked and their
assignment to the infiltration team is rescinded. Until such time as they
either re-enter the Fleet Marine Force or are discharged from the Corps,
they are re-assigned... Computer, pause transcription." He looked at his
First Sergeant. "Are there three that have performed well enough to
rejoin the line teams?"
Gideon nodded his head immediately. "Browning, Tzrketz, Vindaruu."
Cade knew the three names and nodded his head as well at Gideon's choice.
"Computer, resume transcription. Privates Ecclestone, Pertwee, and
Tennant are reassigned to Team Theta under Master Gunnery Sergeant
Canowicakte. End transcription."
The three demoted Marines knew that the loss of rank and pay wasn't the
worst of their punishment. Theta was Canowicakte's team. The Marines
there were the hard-luck cases, screwballs, and dregs that weren't
allowed on any of the combat teams. They were variously known as Gideon's
Kids, Double-D's (for Dumb as Dogshit), or simply, Them. Until they
completed their service in the Nomad version of Purgatory, they were the
Master Gunnery Sergeant's personal projects, given the absolute worst
jobs and punishments allowable by the Marines.
Gideon stepped towards his new charges. "Pertwee, report to Sergeant
Drexer to count medical supplies. Tennant, Sergeant Cash needs someone to
clean the emmitters on all of the Detachment's compression rifles.
Ecclestone," he said with a smile and produced a toothbrush which he
pushed into the Private's hand, "start cleaning the Parade Ground." He
didn't give them a moment to consider their new hardships. "MOVE IT!"
They jumped at his voice and scarpered, none of them daring to look at
Angel, who stared resolutely ahead. The only sign of emotion was a slight
compression of the lips. Still, she felt suitably martyred, she'd
sacrificed herself to the greater good, which meant she was A Good
Marine.
Gideon, as calm as ever, turned back to his CO. "Major?"
"That will be all, Master Guns." He waited until he was gone, leaving
himself and Frost in the room. "Now, then, Private Frost, what am I to do
with you?"
She winced as the implication of her own demotion struck home, but held
out some hope that Vaughan had appreciated her sacrifice. "If you give me
another chance, sir.." she began in what she hoped was a suitably
contrite tone.
He got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of her and folded
his arms across his chest. "Oh, there's no chance of you being even a
sub-team leader in any command of mine, Private. In fact, it will be a
cold day in Hell before I see you return to a combat team. What I should
do with you, Private, is have you arrested, held for court-martial, and
do my best to get you Dishonourably Discharged from my Corps."
Now she dared to give him a flicker of a direct glance. "But...you aren't
going to do that, sir?"
Cade smiled slightly, but it wasn't friendly. It was much more
reminiscent of a cat toying with a mouse before killing it. "No, Frost,
you're going to stick around here. You see, this is an opportunity for me
as well as you. You get to stay in the Corps, but I own you. And you're
going to do everything that I say, or I'll make sure that a Dishonourable
Discharge is the nicest thing that happens to you."
A cold prickle ran down her spine at his words. What the hell did he
mean, he 'owned' her? Any other officer she might have thought... but no,
Vaughan wasn't the sort to effect any sort of...impropriety. If rumour
were true he never had any problems at all in *that* department.
So...what, then? The confusion showed clear in her face.
"You're confused. That's good," he said in a malevolent tone before
adding, "But you're also scared. Which is even better." He hadn't moved
and continued to stare into her eyes. "You're transferred to Omega Team,
Private. And you will follow every command that I give you or I swear by
all that is holy, it will be the last mistake you make in this life."
"I'll...do everything you say, sir," she stated flatly, trying to supress
the niggle of fear that wouldn't go away. For all her personal faults,
Frost wasn't stupid professionally, she was a good infiltrator and by
default a good observor. She'd noticed - in the back of her mind several small, ambiguous things that somewhere didn't add up. It was
nothing she could verbalise or even begin to rationalise, she just knew
something, somewhere, was out of kilter.
But Vaughan was a straight officer, wasn't he? So maybe...maybe he was
offering her deeper cover than before. Maybe that was it. She stole
another covert glance at him. Or maybe not. His quiet, intense
implacability left her in no doubt of his supressed fury. She decided it
was safer to say nothing, just to nod - and be thankful.
Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than being kicked out of the Corps.
Cade continued to watch her for a moment longer. She was perfect for what
he needed. A desperate loner that would do anything to save what was left
of her career. The perfect sleeper. He smiled again as he turned around
to walk back to his chair.
For some strange reason, she suddenly thought of Jacob Boone. Boone, many
years dead, the only man to have ever gotten anywhere close to her. If
Boone were still alive, she'd have had someone to turn to - and that was
a huge admission for the stubborn, selfish Angel. Boone would have bawled
her out for being an idiot, told her in no uncertain terms how she should
have done it so she didn't get caught, bawled her out some more, then
shoved a few pints down her and devised some training to re-focus her.
She missed him, and she realised with horror her misery showed in her
face.
It was all the fault of those bastard 'fleeters from the Caledonia, that
had sent Boone on that disastrous mission. Always the fault of 'fleeters.
And now instead of a reward she was demoted and...worse. She missed Boone
more than she ever wanted to admit. But she straightened her expression
and stared stoically ahead. Nothing would bring Boone back.
"Collect your things from your old quarters. Move them to Omega's squad
bay. Since Corporal Sita was able to get himself transferred to the 10th
Mechanized Division, you'll take his spot. Sita was an expert at what he
did. You will have large boots to fill."
Her brain was almost too numb to think straight at this point. She dimly
recalled the man, thuggish and surly, one of the Razors that had recently
been transferred in - or that Vaughan had had transferred in, if rumour
was true. They were the outcasts, the *real* outcasts. She couldn't begin
to imagine what her role would be there.
One of Vaughan's Black Praetorians, as the erudite Pertwee had nicknamed
them. And now she was to join them. Maybe it was no coincidence that they
were 'Omega'. Trying to fish for information, and not having the nerve to
ask outright, she said quietly, "You'll be instructing me in more detail
as to my new duties, sir?"
He sat down and looked her up and down, knowing full well that it would
make her uncomfortable. "We're going to get to know each other better
than either of us ever wanted, Frost."
Angel hardly dared to breathe, only the widening of her pupils showing
her confusion and dread. Had she been wrong? Did Vaughan have...tastes
that weren't compatible with the females on the station? Was she to be
his sexual lab rat...? That was insane - it had to be insane. Her
breathing became shallow as she dug her nails into her palms, feeling
that everything was spinning so far off-kilter she wasn't even sure where
'normal' was any more.
Was that, then, the price she would have to pay? She swallowed hard,
"I...am at your disposal, sir."
Cade laughed maliciously. "Frost, you have nothing that I want or need.
Right now. But, you do have the potential to fill a needed role. If you
can do that, fine. If not," he shrugged, "this is an old station. Airlock
malfunctions happen all the time."
Her breath caught as she could almost feel an icy hand closing around her
throat. The look in his eyes was pure hardened duranium and the air
seemed to become laden with unspoken danger. Vaughan very seldom made
idle threats. And yet, it was a reprieve. His interest and use for her
wasn't personal - at least, not in *that* sense. So why did she feel that
what he had planned was a thousand times worse and more unimaginable. She
swallowed hard and tried to make a neutral reply, "I suppose when your
times up, then it's up, sir."
"How much time does any of us have," he asked rhetorically. "Get your ass
out of my office and stay out of my sight until I come looking for you."
"Yes, sir," she turned with almost undue haste to escape the office and
the chokingly opressive atmosphere.
"Frost?"
She paused, almost flinched, wondering if she was to be tormented
further. "Yessir?"
"If you go anywhere near Crewman Gomez ever again, I'll deliver you to
the Security Department personally. Leave and say nothing." He hadn't
looked up from his computer screen during the last exchange.
She took that literally, and gave a silent nod as she exited. Walking
back, she was aware of curious stares but kept her gaze straight ahead.
Time to contemplate later. Right now, her head was spinning with the
sudden turnof events, and her consciousness was mercifully blanking out
the worst, until she could allow herself time to think.
Although, if thoughts could give rise to action, then Gigi Gomez would
have been a bloody smear over several constellations at that point...
=/\= USS Caledonia =/\=
Jinti finished dusting off the glasses on the counter and looked around
her in satisfaction.
The secret still was looking extremely well-stocked, with no less that
five unique brands of home-brewed booze. The two ales from Jackson's
Whole, and the hooch - because any other word defied description - from
the giants, the MU ship, and the original brew, still going strong.
"Reckon I'm gonna haveta charge double fer the original now," she
murmured. "Acoz you ain't gonna last ferever."
The room was at it's dingy best, and she wondered if she could also do
some trading for a few more cushoins or some throws or... "Shaddap, ya
daft mare," she said out loud. "Whuat ya sayin'? Ya sound like some
feckin' doolally designer. This ain't one o'them makeover shows. It's fer
folks ta get good an' hammered."
She threw the duster down in disgust at herself, and returned to the
bridge.
Just in time, too, as Chess chose that minute to make contact.
"How goes it, Lieutenant? Any news for me?"
"Cap'n. Yeah, I got a report from my pilotz. They had a bit o'bother down
there..."
As Jinti related ther tale, Chess frowned in concentration. "I see. Well,
I've had a small adventure myself, although nothing so dangerous as that.
It's time to recall people, I feel We'll pool information and then plan
the next stage."
"We gotta plan? Cool?"
"We have indeed," Chess smirked. "Recall the others to the ship. I think
it'll be easier to talk in private there."
"Ya got it, Cap'n." Jinti set to work rounding up the rest of the crew.
Whatever the plan was, she hoped she'd be a part of it. It wasn't fair
that her two associates had all the fun down there...
=USS Caledonia, Scavenger's Hub=
MARIE ANTOINETTE'S BATH & BEAUTY read the old wooden sign. Zerin and
Sandrik had dressed to look inconspicuous. Now they were standing in
front of a cotton candy-pink warehouse with blue sparkly bubbles painted
on it. The Naked Vedek put his hands on his hips. "Yep. That's what
m'source said. The casket can be found here. Say, how's yer friend,
Carsin?"
"We left him sleeping off his hangover," Zerin replied. In fact, she and
Sandrik had dragged him back to his room and plopped him on his bed as
blathered through an umpteenth recital of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."
Zerin could still remember Carsin's blathering. "I saw th' best minds of
my generation...reassigned to the Caledonia...HOOOWWWWL..." Was that
really how the poem went?
Anyway..."Why would a casket be in a pink warehouse full of bubble bath
and soap?" Zerin asked.
"You got me," the Naked Vedek replied. He opened the door. "Ladies
first."
Zerin drew her phaser and crept in. One thing became very obvious: Marie
Antoinette's top scent was..
"PATCHOULI!" Zerin snorted. "Who uses patchouli anymore?" Other smells
assaulted her nose: pine, sea breeze, urine...
Okay, who manufactured urine-scented bath products? Zerin turned around
and shone her flashlight on Sandrik, who was standing in a corner,
unleashing a stream of the stuff on the ground.
"Sandrik, that is GROSS!" she yelled. "Will you zip up? PLEASE?"
"I had to go, ma'am," Sandrik replied matter-of-factly.
"Couldn't you have gone before we left the hotel?" she asked.
"I did." Sandrik didn't bother to mention the four raktojinos he had
guzzled before coming here. She wouldn't like that.
"Just keep the tricorder on," Zerin told him. "If you spot anything that
looks like a casket, let me know."
They prowled past a bunch of Marie Antoinette floor displays. One said,
"Marie Antoinette--You'll lose your head over our new shampoos!"
Zerin picked up one bottle of shampoo and sniffed. Wow. It was coconut.
Zerin loved coconut. She was getting covered with dust prowling around in
this warehouse. She looked down at the shampoo bottle. Nobody was
looking. She stuck the bottle in her bag. Then she explored the soap
section, picking out the coconut-scented soap. Then on to the bubble
bath, the skin cleanser, the shower gel, the body spray...
Finally, she had discovered the boxes of bath oil. Sure, she hadn't found
the casket so far, but at least she had a line of bath products that
smelled a lot nicer than the crappy Starfleet soap that smelled like
detergent.
From the bath oil came the smell of burning. Oh, great.
In fact, several boxes were aflame. They were all labeled COCONUT.
No no no NOOOOOOOO! Zerin searched for a fire extinguisher. Surely she
could save the bath oil!
No extinguisher.
CRAP!!!
"Sandrik! Vedek! We're getting out of here!" Zerin shouted. Sandrik and
the Naked Vedek poked their heads out from behind a crate. Their faces
were covered with shaving cream. She wasn't going to ask.
They raced for the door as the fire spread and ran and ran and ran up the
hill. Just as they stopped to pant for breath, FOOM! The warehouse
exploded.
Zerin looked at Sandrik and the Vedek, and then back at a bulging
fireball where the warehouse had been.
Sandrik began wiping shaving cream off his face while Zerin said, "I
really, REALLY think we should get out of here. It wasn't just bath oil
that caused that explosion."
"You think someone set up a trap?" the Vedek asked.
"WHO was your source?" Zerin demanded.
"Some dude I met outside the hotel," the Vedek replied.
"Name?"
"Dunno. I was drunk. I didn't ask."
"What did he look like?"
"I was out an' it was night, like. I was doin' my thing with the cowbell
an' he comes up an' tells me to come with him, and..."
"You went into a dark alley and there he told you where to find the
casket. It was too dark for you to know what he looked like."
"How'd you guess?"
Zerin said, "Dude, you're coming with us. Whoever tried to off us had no
trouble getting rid of you as well."
"Do I have to sleep in the same room with that drunk guy?"
"No, but I think for now, you're under Starfleet protection."
"Starfleet? COOL!" the Vedek told her.
Of course it was cool. Zerin rolled her eyes.
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's quarters =/\=
Mort really kinda resented having his dream interrupted.
He was in the middle of judging the 1930 Miss America contest in Atlantic
City, and Miss Delaware had just "Sharon Stoned" him during her talent
dance routine.
Then, zap...the Verolian introduced himself, and explained what had been
happening. The pageant was put on hold in the meantime.
Mort was too upset and bewildered to really pay much attention. A far
distant planet in the Delta Quadrant, blah blah, blissful state of
Ascension, yada yada yada.
Oh, the ship...that's what the wierd alien ship was all about. And when
the offer came for Mort to join them in their enlightenment, he didn't
know what to say. "Come back tomorrow?" he had stammered. To his
surprise, the Verolion went away, but Mort was sadly unable to continue
the dream from the same place.
Mort had awoken and resolved to take some nondream time to consult with
his pal Sammy. Now if he could remember where he put the poor sod...
=/\= DTI Office Starbase Raven =/\=
"Call from Starbase BoB, Captain," the yeoman announced.
Immersed in the latest sector temporal analysis reports, Cordelia gave a
vague look. "Hm? BoB? Oh - *BoB*. *That* place," she rolled her eyes.
"What do they want?"
"Something about a repair to a listening array, ma'am," the Yeoman put
the call through right away, knowing too well Cordelia's penchant for
dissecting conversations before they'd happened. "It's Captain Mulder for
you."
The commconsole screen flicked into life, and Mulder gave a sleepy smile
in the direction of the DTI officer. "Captain Naismith, we meet again. I
think."
Cordelia remembered the many fruitless conversation they'd had in the
past. "Indeed. What can the DTI do for you? My yeoman said something
about a listening array?"
"Yes.." Mulder wondered if it had been some sort of mistake. "You wanted
us to repair a listening array, or rather, you asked the Nomads if their
engineers could take care of it."
Something was ringing bells in the back of Cordelia's mind. "Actually...
yes, I believe I do recall the array you mean. But the request didn't
come from me. It would have been issued by Commander Drake, my associate.
He takes care of the day-to-day issues like that. It was some time ago, I
believe..."
"We've been busy. Attack of alien ice creatures and so on. We only just
got round to it," Mulder wanted to sleep, but at least this was one task
she could cross off the list now.
"So, you repaired the relay? Good. That's all we need to know."
"Actually.. not quite. We *did* sort of repair it but..."
Cordelia hated 'buts' and raised an eyebrow.
"But we blew it up."
Cordelia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You blew it
up?" she repeated faintly.
"Well, to be precise, it blew itself up. But I suppose we triggered it."
"Destruction of DTI property is not something to be taken lightly."
Cordelia looked stern. "You should have taken more care."
Mulder gave her an evil glare, "If you'd bothered to tell us about the
several hundred Orion pirates that had made a base on the planetoid, then
we might have been able to do a better job of it."
"Orions?" Cordelia had a faint sense of the conversation taking one of
those turns marked 'Road Ahead Closed. Danger'. "Captain, I don't know
anything *about* Orions. You'd better start from the beginning."
"Right." Mulder could see she wasn't going to get a nap any time soon
now. "It all started well. I piloted a runabout with several teams from
the Nomads under the command of Major Vaughan, out to the planetoid. They
were making good progress with the repair, and had nearly finished, when
we discovered that we weren't alone out there..."
=/\= Marine Deck SB BoB =/\=
"Major? Call for you from Raven."
Cade glanced up at Yeoman Winters and furrowed his brow. "Who is it? That
new Marine Advisor chap?"
"No, sir. Commander Cameron Drake of DTI," she said with a distinct trace
of intrigue in her voice.
He shook his head. "Tell him I'm busy. I'm not in the mood to be bitched
at for their array getting reduced to it's molecular components by the
Orions."
* * * * *
"I'm sorry, Commander, but the Major is in the middle of a conference
right now. Can I take a message for him?"
On the other side of the screen, Drake snorted softly through his nose.
"Yeoman, are you really trying to tell me that you had to leave me on
hold for five minutes to find out that your boss was in a meeting? You're
either the sector's worst aide or you're lying for him. Now, despite
BoB's reputation, I'm inclined to believe the latter."
Winters said nothing, which spoke volumes.
Cameron smiled sweetly at her. "Now, Yeoman, go tell him to pick up the
damn comm channel or I'm going to go back in time and erase both of your
family lines."
* * * * *
"....and no sooner had Major Vaughan ordered an alert, than all hell
broke loose," Mulder continued the story.
"Orions," Cordelia said flatly. "I find it very strange, but not, I
suppose altogether out of the question."
Mulder just gave her a 'you what?' look. "I can assure you it was most
real," she growled. "They were cloaked so at first we couldn't tell
anything about numbers, it was just fighting blind. Then we started to
rip into them, and I got some shots off from my runabaout, while prepping
for hot extraction. And not a moment too soon... a chasm opened up,
nearly took some of our people with it."
"Captain, I must confess that ariel combat is not an issue of great
import to me. I shall read the details in the report. What of the array?
That is my primary concern."
"Oh, yeah, well..." Mulder gathered her thoughts. "It got knackered, to
put it bluntly. We pulled all marines off, and the Orions retreated -
fast. We soon fouind out why, they'd booby-trapped the entire planetoid,
or sabotaged it, and the whole lot disintegrated.
Cordelia sighed, "Too bad. That was a useful listening post."
"It was strange, though..." Mulder reflected, "That we should end up
there." She gave a small ironic shrug, "Sent to do a simple repair job
and end up wiping out a vipers nest of Orions. What are the chances of
that happening, eh?"
* * * * * *
"Threatening my yeoman is not a good way to get on my good side, Drake,"
Cade said with a heavy voice as the screen popped up with the DTI
officer's face.
"Commander Drake, Major, unless you've forgotten protocol."
"You're DTI, asshole, which means you're outside the protocol." Cade
turned a baleful eye onto Cameron.
Drake grinned, knowing that he'd gotten under Vaughan's skin. "What did
you do to my array?"
"I didn't do shit to it. It was the two hundred Orions that you forgot to
tell me about, which, by the way, thank you for that stupendous bit of
intel." Cade snorted. "Platoon-sized listening post, my ass. Remind me to
return the favor."
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Vaughan, you didn't lose anybody and
you got to take out more than a couple of the green bastards." Cameron
shrugged as if it was already forgotten. "I have another issue to discuss
with you, though."
* * * * * *
Cordelia was looking somewhat pained, "I can only assume that the Orions
were trying to link onto our listening equipment somehow."
"Would it matter?" Mulder wanted to know.
"In theory, no," Cordelia shook her head emphatically. "The listening
array simply monitored temporal signals and relayed them back to our
deciphering equipment here on the Osiris. Unless anyone out there had a
degree in temporal mechanics, plus the correct equipment to translate
what they were icking up, then it would mean nothing at all to them. It's
very perplexing."
Mulder shrugged, as far as she was concerned, thay'd done all they could
and that was that. "Well, then, I guess that's it. The written report
will be on it's way to you shortly." Maybe after she'd had a sleep, and
enjoyed some more of those enchanting dreams, which were much more
enjoyable than work. Plus, there was the Verolians offer to consider...
"Captain? Are you still there?"
Aware that she'd zoned out for a bit, Mulder snapped back to reality.
"Yes. Fine. So... eh, that's it."
"Indeed," Cordelia wasn't sure what to make of it, but said a brief
farewell. She'd have to talk to Cameron about this. How the hell could
they have missed a pirate base on their listening post?
* * * * * *
"So, what does that tidbit cost me?"
Cameron shook his head. "Not a thing. I was told to pass it on to you by
our mutual benefactor. He thought it would be useful to your crusade."
"Indeed," the Marine said dryly. "I'll evaluate it and make a decision."
"Do with it as you wish." Cameron shrugged. "I was just the messenger in
this case." He glanced over his shoulder. "Should wrap this up. Your
Captain and my partner won't be chatting much longer. Send your afteraction report on the mission."
Cade tapped a button. "On the way. Good day to you, Commander."
"And to you, Major."
As Cade closed the channel, he murmurred, "Pompous ass."
As Cameron shut down his panel, he mumbled, "Psychotic asshole."
* * * * * *
Mulder and Cordelia's farewells were finalised by the mutterings of
"Uptight science geek" and "Insolent hoyden," respectively.
Cordelia rose and swept out of her office, telling her yeoman to direct
all calls to the Osiris until she returned. The issue of a new listening
array was something she would have to delegate to cameron. Obtusely, she
blamed him for the whole escapade, as he'd been the instigator of the
repair.
She was not feeling reasonable.
* * * * * *
Cameron walked out of his room on the Osiris, head down as he read a
padd. "Hey, Red, I just talked with the head Jarhead out on Starbase BoB
and he sent me an after-action report. You won't believe what happened to
the temporal monitoring array on the near-side of the Typhon expanse..."
"You mean the one that's currently reduced to a million particles of
space dust?"
He looked up at her and arched an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe you would
believe it."
"I just spoke with captain Mulder from BoB," she sighed. "I know the
whole story. Then she did a little double-take, "Red? Did you call me
Red?"
"Your face is a cute shade of red when you get flustered." Cameron smiled
and winked at her before turning and walking back into the depths of the
Osiris. As he disappeared, the whistled tune of 'Sweet Home Alabama'
could be heard echoing in the hall.
Cordelia's only response was a flinty-eyed glare and a Marge Simpson-eque
growl.
* * * * *
Mulder debated telling Vaughan about the conversation, but it was too
much hassle to go and see him. Besides, she could justify a shorpt nap
now, having cleared that unsalubrious task. She contented herself with
sending him a short, one-liner note that it was sorted.
* * * * *
Cade's computer bleeped at him that he had a new message. His eyes
drifted towards the sender's name. "Hmmph," he mumbled before deleting it
without reading the message. If it was important, she'd have called him.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
Stretched out on the padded bench in the corner, Mulder was deeply
asleep, her dreams returning her to the mountain lodge in the Ra'amtaps
on Jaz'Aarian.
Relaxed, one hand trailing to the floor, her long hair spilling out over
the bench, she was convinced that this dream - for she knew it was just a
dream - was the best yet.
Part of her consciousness heard the insistent sound of the doorchime, but
she ignored it. If they didn't get and answer, they'd go away and come
back later.
Back into dreamland, she sat on a white fur rug in front of a roaring
fire, and felt strong warm hands on her shoulders, then a glass of wine
being passed to her.
She smiled and reached up to him...
"You want to watch where you're grabbing, Captain?"
She gave a throaty chuckle, "I know exactly where I'm grabbing, my dear,"
as she twined her hands around his neck. He felt so real, so warm, and
nothing else in her office mattered...
...her *office*?
She blinked, all thoughts of the mountain cabin vanished as she realised,
belatedly, where she was - and this wasn't part of her dream. Hastily
untangling her arms from around him - and noting with some embarrassment
that her hands were, in reality, no-where *near* his *neck* - she
scootled upright, eyes wide now.
"Crap. I.... must have thought you were someone else. I was just..." she
waved her hands ineffectually, defences mechanism kicking in. "Don't you
know the old saying, Let Sleeping CO's lie?"
Cade's normal smile didn't appear. "Want to explain why you're asleep in
the middle of the day and neglecting your duties?"
"Neglecting my duties?" she glared, "What an absurd thing to say! How can
you even think such a thing?"
Cade's face darkened significantly. "Only because I've had to take on
half of your responsibilities. What the hell happened to Jaz'Aarians only
needing a couple of hours of sleep per day? The computer says you've been
locked in here for nigh onto eight."
Inside, alarm bells sounded. He knew her far too well - this could be
dangerous. She tried to be disingenuous, "Goodness sakes, you're
complaining about a little bit of paperwork? I'm at it all day, every
day." She stood up and indicated her desk, "This station doesn't run
itself, you know. I sometimes work all the way through the night and so I
catch a few winks of sleep during the day. What's so wrong with that?"
"What isn't wrong with that? You know as well, if not better, that the
reason the CO works the Alpha shift is because that is when there is the
most traffic, the most civilian complaints, and the most business on the
Promenade." He folded his arms across his chest. "So, I ask again, care
to explain why you're asleep on duty?"
Her eyes narrowed, "I don't think it's your place to question me,
*Major*. If you didn't spend most of your time closeted down on your
marine deck, you'd know that up here we *work* for a living. So now
you've seen just how relentless things are. That's what we get for
enjoying a break from emergencies. The paperwork soon piles up."
"If you weren't the CO....," he said ominously.
"But I am," she said with quiet vehemence, "And don't you forget it."
He leaned toward her slightly. "You got that first shot, Captain. Don't
ever imply that I don't carry my weight around here again, or we will
have a very serious disagreement." He straightened and produced a padd.
"Now, then, Captain, can you offer a plausible explanation to me why I've
been getting sketchy reports about aberrant behaviour not only in
yourself but also in Mr. Mattingly and Dr. Bonnenfant, among others? Or
do I need to contact Gamma HQ for a..... ah, consultation?"
She gave a short derisory laugh, "I
with those muppets at Gamma Command
saying something. Besides, I didn't
to mummy to fight their battles for
think we both know that your credit
is even less than mine - and that's
think big tough marines went running
them.."
"No, but we do know how to make someone's life miserable when we think a
change in command is in order," he said icily.
She hardly listened to his reply, as something he said struck a chord. If
others like Francois and Baxter were...maybe...dreaming too, then they
might be some of the 'others' that Dareem had told her about. But what
about Vaughan? It seemed he wasn't one of the chosen ones. Why not?
Maybe...maybe it was down to her to show him the way. But carefully. She
might be wrong.
She took a deep breath and made herself relax, giving him a pleasant
smile. "I don't want to argue with you, Major. I think you're overreacting, is all. Look, this place usually runs on such high adrenaline
that we never have time to do more than the basics. And recently..it's
been so quiet that I think we're all a little wrong-footed by it all.".
He said nothing, but the look on his face conveyed that he wasn't buying
any part of that explanation.
She made a deprecatory little gesture, "Maybe I *have* been a little less
diligent than usual. Maybe I operate better under pressure. I'll just
have to try and get back into the groove. And I'll have a word with the
others, too." Oh yes, she would certainly be having a word.
Cade nodded his head reluctantly, somewhat mollified by her admission.
"Okay," he said simply. "Then, that's all I've got."
Mulder smiled and moved a little closer to him, "You know, I think
perhaps those aliens have got it right. The Verolians are so relaxed, so
restful in their hibernate state. Why don't you go and visit them? I
swear a little time spent in contemplation around them soothes the soul."
"My soul is just..." The hair on the back of his neck prickled slightly,
so he took a step back away from Mulder without even thinking about it.
"Contemplation? Around comatose bodies? And since when have you
identified their race?"
"They... " Mulder began, but hesitated. Was it her imagination, or could
she see the figure of Dareem standing behind Vaughan, smiling and putting
a finger to his lips. "They, the Ops people, made some small progress in
the deciphering," she finished.
She took another tiny step forward, her smile as placid as the Verolians.
"Trust me. I only want what's best for everyone. It'll be alright, you'll
see."
He took another step back and his right hand strayed to the holstered
pistol on his hip by instinct. "Captain, I don't know what's going on,
but you know me. And I will get to the bottom of this, no matter if it
kills me. Or anyone else for that matter."
Out of the corner of her eye she could see - or imagine - Dareem shaking
his head sadly. She held out a hand, "Violence never solves anything,
Major," her voice was soft and soothing. "Just relax, and let me take
care of everything." She gave another modest little smile, "And now I
must shoo you away, if I'm to catch up on all this work.."
"Good bye, Captain." Cade hastily made his exit, wondering what about the
woman was making him feel so uncomfortable all of the sudden. Normally,
there was a familiar comfort when they spoke, but that was gone. It was
like talking to a different person. Then, his thoughts started to run
amok.
Mulder's thoughts were also in a turmoil.
how things could be. If he tried it, he'd
Verolians were offering - pure happiness.
Maybe her words had planted some train of
She had to get Vaughan to see
be happy. That was what the
Didn't they all deserve that?
reason inside him, she hoped.
It was probably as well she couldn't read his actual thoughts at that
moment...
-= Corridor outside =The Dominion tried to conquer by using shapeshifters. The Federation had
fought through a near civil war when symbiotes tried to take over key
personnel in the government and military. The Vanguard Insurrection had
nearly ripped Starfleet apart with it's cancerous beliefs. Was he seeing
the beginning of the next crisis? Big problems never start that way. They
get to be big because someone either ignored the small problem or didn't
recognize the threat.
Cade glanced over his shoulder at the door to the CO's office. He needed
to find someone to bounce these thoughts off of, and he needed to find
someone to investigate the Verolians. He had a feeling that time was
running short on him.
-=- 37 Acacia Avenue, Birmingham -=According to popular Psychology, anger involved the descent of a red
mist. As Dhillon bounded up the stair case, veins were narrowing.
Capillaries were pulsating under high pressure as fury unrefined raged.
He was not going to be made a fool off. Not again. Things were just
returning to an even keel. Yet, she was at it again. What was it Arihana
Dharma and a sudden propensity towards loose knicker elastic.
Okay, so he had no proof. Or so he told himself to enter her bedroom, in
her house.
He hated it but enjoyed it nonetheless. Being the live in lover. For the
moment, there were no strings. She was yet to find out about the
inebriated blonde back in Pudsey. The one he had accidentally bumped into
as he tried to get over Des. The one that now was allegedly carrying his
kid. Dhillon had pushed that to the back of his mind.
Not like he had been the only one. Simply one of many, it had been a long
night. He may as well have taken a ticket and waited his turn. He
shuddered to think of how he had dodged the blues and twos of the police
vehicles.
Twirling the scissors in his hands, he pulled open closets. He only had
the one quarry. He just had to find the right one.
Doors were flung open as he proceeded to root around. Suits, a fair few
of them. Tow from Saville Row. Didn’t get worn very often. Were for board
meetings and parent days. Three from BoB, apparently made by the resident
hookers before they left. He had to smile, chancing on the carrier at the
back.
Counsellor teal. Complete with Pips.
Only he was on a mission of sorts.
Shoes, lots of them. Red ones, blue ones. Black patent with well worn
heels.
They all descended out and onto the floor.
Continuing to root, he found it.
Was also in a carrier. Taking it from the closet it unwrapped it quickly.
Was off pink, three petticoats and boned at the bodice. There was the
whiff of vanilla and peonies that anyone who knew would associate with
her. The infused combination Cocoa butter and Stella perfume.
There was that cold metallic rasping sound as the scissors unhinged.
It had no doubt cost the earth. Little did it bother Dhillon as he turned
the wedding dress into rags.
-= Starbase BoB =Elise finally struggled off the ship, tired and aggravated. The trip that
was supposed to have taken three weeks had dragged on, first do to a
minor engine malfunction that left them limping to the next station that
could help them and then an actual stay at the aforementioned station
while the engine was being repaired.
When they finally docked at BoB it was a relief. Elise never could settle
in on trips, no matter how long. Permanent locations, even if they were
ships were always different. An extended trip of this sort, where weeks
were spent doing nothing on some backwater repair station were even worse
than usual, the added hassle and stress frayed her nerves. Alyssa did not
help, since her idea of settling in was to spread her things everywhere.
Clutter, chaos, travel, and schedule disruptions did nothing for Elise's
mood. Being able to finally pack her things and herd most of Alyssa's
clutter together into suitcases was a great relief.
Her relief evaporated with her first good look at the station. She'd
expected primitive, but this was far more run-down and abused looking
than she'd bargained for. For once she was glad she'd lobbied enough
funds to make sure that she had all new equipment to bring with her. She
wondered briefly if she'd need to supply furniture for the lab as well.
Alyssa stepped up next to her, shifting the strap of her messenger bag on
her shoulder. "Are you sure we're in the right place, Mom? This place
doesn't exactly look very...Starfleet."
"I was just wondering the same thing myself. I was told the station
wasn't state of the art...but I still wasn't expecting this."
Behind them the transport ship's captain was exiting through the hatch.
Elise looked at him over her shoulder, "Is this BoB?" She half-expected
to hear that they'd had to stop for another repair.
"I'm afraid it is, ma'am. She's not much to look at, but from what I hear
this place takes quite a bit of abuse and is still standing...so to
speak."
"My god, what have we gotten ourselves into?" Elise murmured quietly.
"You think we could just tell them it's a mistake and leave?" Alyssa
asked hopefully, still wanting to just go back to Earth and her real
life.
"No, this is where I need to be in order to work, I have a feeling we're
going to have to stick it out for a bit. I know you don't want to be
here, but please, make do. I'm sure there has to be at least one other
person your age her, they do have a school after all."
"Yeah, but is it one room where I have to share with 11 other grades?
It's probably me and some 5 year old," Alyssa said glumly.
Elise extracted a PADD from her bag, "We'd better find our quarters and
then I need to check in and make sure everything gets unloaded and set up
correctly."
"I am so going to hate it here," Alyssa groaned, trailing along after her
mother.
Silently Elise wondered if she ought to agree with the teenager.
=/\= Transport Ship Watson =/\=
“...the 1800 transport to Belle Terre is boarding now. Please have all
documents at hand. Attention all passengers the...”
Bree shifted the strap of his duffel bag so it was across his chest and
stepped through the airlock and into the Watson ahead of everyone else. A
little jostling and pointing to his uniform and padd had gotten him to
the front of the queue. He still couldn’t believe that he had on a
civilian ship. He would have thought someone like him would have at least
gotten the loan of a runabout or something, but apparently ‘Fleet HQ
disagreed. If he was technically on leave in-between assignments then he
was going to have to make his own way home.
He strolled to the front of the passenger compartment and slid into the
window seat. Bree didn’t even really want to go home. It was just a big
waste of time as far as he was concerned. His time would be better spent
getting on with his work but as things stood he had no fixed address. No
fixed address equaled no lab, so it was back home, at least until he got
word of his reassignment. He was hoping for somewhere like the McKinley
Station or the Daystrom Institute so his skills could be put to use. His
last CO said he was going to be sent somewhere befitting of his abilities
so Bree was quietly confident, despite the fuss that had followed his
transfer. After all great spirits have always encountered opposition from
mediocre minds.
“This seat taken?”
Bree was shocked out of his musing by a lanky young man who was pointing
to the empty seat next to him.
Bree scowled, his face creasing up, “Can you see someone sitting there?”
“Well...no...” The man scratched behind an ear nervously.
“Well then it’s not taken.” Bree snorted and turned back to the view from
the window. Honestly...
The young man blinked, shocked, and then set about hefting the various
bags and containers he had into the overhead compartment. Occasionally
one would fall and bounce off the seat next to Bree.
“Oh...I...if you could just give me a hand...mister? Please?” The young
man had a shoulder pressed against a stack of bags as he struggled to
keep them all in the compartment.
With an audible ‘tut’ Bree rose and squeezed next to him. He started
rearranging the chaotically placed luggage none too gently. “Look..”
“Steve...I’m Steve.”
Bree continued stuffing things into place, “Whatever. Look, this isn’t
brain surgery. In fact it’s not even rocket science. I’ve baby nephews
that know putting a square peg in a round hole doesn’t work, and they
spend half their time babbling nonsense and the rest of the time
dribbling.” On the last word Bree gave pulled the compartment hatch down,
shot the guy a dirty look and then threw himself back down in his seat.
“Sorry I...” the young man eased himself into the seat, wiggling from
side to side as he tried to get comfortable. The long haul seats weren’t
made for tall people. Steve’s knees were almost by his ears. “I’ve just
never really traveled on my own before. Its so weird, y’know? All the
documents and times and bookings, and then all that queuing! Normally my
parents sort all that kinda’ thing out and...” Steve paused for a quick
breath before pushing on, “I’m not really good with times. I’m just happy
I made it to the right place at the right time. I’ll be even happier to
get back home. Last stop Belle Terre!”
Bree visibly slumped in his seat. Why him? He turned and looked at the
flustered youth flashing Steve a strained smile, “Would you like some
travel tips? I’m a seasoned traveler after all.”
“Really? Oh thanks that’d be great! I mean, I loved the trip and I wanna’
do it again sometime. While I was over at Starbase 404 I saw...”
“Right, first rule!” Bree clicked his fingers at Steve whilst staring
resolutely away from him. “Don’t talk to fellow passengers, unless they
talk to you.”
Steve screwed his eyes up as he tried to process this, “Why’s that?”
Bree’s body shook with his sigh, “The universe is a complex place. A big
place. And it’s full of danger and nasty people. What if the person
you’re talking to is...say a murderer? Or a slaver? Or a spy undercover?
What if they don’t appreciate all the questions? What if you blow their
cover?” He poked Steve in the chest to emphasize each question. “One
moment you’re asking how someone is, next moment you’re waking up as they
shove you into a torpedo tube.”
At this point a whimper actually escaped Steve’s lips. The poor guy was
actually starting to tear up a little. After a minute or two of silence
he asked quietly, “And the second rule?”
Bree growled, “The first rule is all you need. Now start practicing it.”
He pulled a padd of research papers out of his bag and started to read.
“Practicing?” “Yes, by being quiet.” Bree shot Steve one last glare that
could melt deck plating and returned to his reading.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Meeting Room =/\=
Chess was glad she'd suggested they all returned to the Caledonia for the
meeting. Looking at the crew, she gathered that there had been some wild
adventures going on.
She began herself, "Thanks for all your work so far. I thought it would
be a good idea to share what we've learned, and then we have something
important to do. More of that later. First of all, here's what I've got
so far..."
She sat back, "I made a deal with a barkeeper who seemed to be in the
know with Jackson, and went along to his house - very posh, I might add for Jackson's Whole standards."
"Jackson himself is an odd man. He seems obsessed with his ancestors
pirate history, and has many artefacts in his home museum, some quite
grisly. He mentioned the Casket outright, but wouldn't be drawn on it. I
intend to go back...and that's where you come in," she looked around the
table. "But as I said, more on that later. For now, I'd like to hear what
you've all been up to down there, and what happened. In full detail,
please."
Mike look around then decided to speak about his adventure "We got work
at the medical facility. The facility itself is understaff and not equip
properly". he stop trying to think about how to put it. "A man came in
with extreme temperatures and spoke about the casket. After treating him
he ran and give us rendez-vous at the back of the Frog & Nigthgown. The
problem is we found him dead on arrival. The guard wanted us to believe
it was a brawl, I do believe that if we had been there earlier we would
be attack also."
He look at everybody "I do think some of us are being watch or monitor
very closely".
Zerin smelled faintly like coconut. She said, "We've been asking around
at bars, cafes, and hotels. It has not been easy to come by information
about this casket." She didn't mention the ops crews' assorted
misadventures in too much detail. Carsin was still whining about his
hangover. "There is some talk of a casket and a sale. People aren't
always too forthcoming, though."
How was she going go explain this to Chess? "One of the locals has been
exceptionally helpful, though. And it has been at great cost to his
safety. We nearly got killed following a lead that some mysterious
stranger provided him." Zerin imagined Marie Antoinette Bath and Beauty
wasn't going to be too happy about it, either. "Anyway, I've decided that
this local is--temporarily--under our protection. He's temporarily in
Carsin's quarters."
Chess gave her a little look. "Commander Fell, most people who bring back
holiday souvineers manage to stop short of actually bringing back the
local population. But if you feel he needs temporary refugee status, then
I shall trust your decision. Just be sure he doesn't go wandering off or
touching things he shouldn't. Things break easily enough as it is," She
turned to Jinti. "Moving on, I believe your own department had a mishap
also?"
Jinti then added her department's tale. "Richards an' Zellers thought
they had a lead, but turned out is wuz a trap. Some guys ambushed 'em and
tried to flatten 'em with a big rock. I reckon there's hot competition
fer this Ressyreckshun Casket thing."
Chess had been reading the individual reports anyway as the offers were
speaking, and so was fully briefed.
"It does seem as though people will go to any lengths to stop rivals from
getting their hands on it. Whether or not it actually does have an
special properties is still unknown, but it's imperative now that we find
it - one way or another."
She continued, "When I was at Jackson's house, there was a locked chest
in his study. He seemed pretty keen to keep me away from that room, away
from the whole house, come to think of it. I'm wondering... I know it's a
long shot.. but I'm wondering if there might be information inside it,
that relates to the Casket."
"It doesn't sound like a long shot to me," Zerin added. "You think anyone
else might be after this particular casket?" She thought about the Naked
Vedek's "mysterious stranger."
Chess said thoughtfully, "I believe that Jackson doesn't, in fact, have
the actual casket but is desparate to get his hands on it. As I mentioned
before, he collects memorabilia from his ancestors pirate days and this
would be the perfect centrepiece."
"It might be more than just coincidence that people are being disposed of
to stop them talking - and Jackson is the one person on this Hub that has
the power to do that. As to where the casket actually is, or who's got
it, I have no idea. That's a mystery to be solved after we raid Jackson's
house."
"Raid," Chess said firmly. "We need to break in under cover of darkness
and break open that chest. It's pretty much illegal work we're doing
here, so we're going to have to be very careful not to get caught. Now,
here's a schematic of the layout of the house, and the room with the
chest in it is marked," Chess brought up a colour 3-D representation. Any
ideas?"
"Raid..."Mike look at Zerin as he reacted the same way and waited for her
to end "What I meant is...this going to be a plan rigth? Nothing against
going to steal a pirate but I would like to had that we are watch
carefully so we need some way to get in without being notice." He started
thinking "like minor facial adjustment and other clothes."
"I see what you mean," Chess said slowly, "But in this case, if we get
caught, then no amount of disguide will help us. I believe we'd be killed
whatever. And I don't plan to get caught.." she added firmly.
"What i was
I'm the one
right spot.
Lamarr, and
thinking, was that I shall lead the Away Team this time, as
who's actually been inside the place and can lead you to the
Commander Fell, you'll be along also, as will you Lieutenant
you, Patrowski," she nodded to Mike.
"Cool," Jinti piped up. "But whut about Harlan. Ain't he comin' along?"
"Not this phase, no," Chess shook her head. "He's dug in well in the town
and has quite as lot of contacts there now. If the worst happens and we
get into trouble I'd prefer an experienced security officer on the
outside trying to rescue us, than stuck on the inside with us as a
prisoner. I think it would be a good idea for your teams to be recalled
to the ship also, for the duration."
"How long ya reckon it's gonna be, Cap'n?" Jinti asked.
"I suggest we go down there tonight, and break in under cover of
darkness. The whole raid should take less than an hour if we do it right.
get in, get to the chest, bust it open, see what information is inside,
and get the hell out again."
"Sound like a plan, but I must insist that I should be arm properly, you
know phaser... or maybe phasers.." making sure the *S* was well heard as
he grin, for once he flet like a fighter.
"We really, REALLY should be sure that the place isn't booby-trapped,"
Zerin said. "If he's behind these attempts to off us, he could have all
sorts of ways to keep other people's hands off that chest.
"I don't believe that there's much security apart from various goons
patrolling. Certainly nothing that looks like high-tech uintruder
alarms," Chess tried to remember her on-the-ground assessment. "Commander
Fell, can you bring along sufficient equipment to block any signals from
motion detection equipment?"
"I certainly could. For that, I'd have to bring along Carsin. He's the
specialist in detection equipment." Even if he was completely hungover.
"I still would feel a lot more comfortable bringing tricorders that can
scan for hidden alarms or traps."
"Very well, Carsin comes too, along with whatever tricorder equipment you
think neccessary. And Patrowski, you'll need to bring a small portable
medical kit - just in case of any cuts or injuries in the break-in."
"You can count on me capt!" he said smilling the feeling of stress now
under control.
"An' whut about me, Cap'n?" Jinti realised she hadn't been given a
specified task. "Whut do I do?"
"A pilots sense of direction, and your natural sense of danger, which I
believe you have in abundance," there was a tiny twinkle in Chess's eye.
"Plus, I believe you throw a very good punch."
"I shore do, Cap'n" Jinti beamed. "Ya can trust me ta deck 'em if'n
anyone tries ta mess with us."
Excellent," Chess stood up to indicate the meeting was over. "We'll
depart at 2100 hours, meet in the transporter room and get down to the
surface. By the time we reach Jackson's mansion it'll be 22oo hours, and
fully dark down there. In the meantime, grap an hours sleep if you need
it, recall your people from the surface - casually - and prepare whatever
equipment you need to take."
She gave them a quick smile, "I'll see you all later. Dismissed."
=/\= USS Caledonia =/\=
By rights, Chess should have been surprised when a Ferengi she'd never
seen before poked his head around the door of her ready-room.
But this was the Caledonia, and nothing really surprised her about the
ship or it's crew any more. It was just one of those odd facts of life
that the weird and irregular usually has a perfectly normal explanation
in caly-ville.
The fact that the Ferengi in question was a name she recgonised from the
manifest did help. "Doctor Zim, I presume?"
Zim tottered into the ready room and did his best to hide the waves of
nausea that he was being battered by. He’d been laid out for a long time
with whatever it was he had. He had tried to memorize the technical term
for it but Zim felt that ‘really ill’ would suffice.
“Well not a Doctor exactly, but a Doctoring type.” Zim swallowed before
carrying on. He was getting an all too familiar and all too unpleasant
feeling at the back of his throat. “I mean, I try, and I can have a go at
you know blood tests, inoculations, amputations and so on....anyway, I’m
reporting for duty.”
He snapped sluggishly to attention.
"Easy, easy," Chess waved him to a seat. "I don't want you collapsing
again." Aware of her own piratical outfit she said musingly, "Either
you're completely up to date with what's going on, or it's quite normal
on the Caledonia to see senior officers dressed as brigands.."
Gratefully Zim sunk into the seat. He was starting to think that maybe he
wasn't as recovered as he had thought he was.
"I wouldn't say it was normal, but..I've been on the Caly a while now.
Odd get ups aren't that odd anymore. Like..." Zim trailed off into a
hasty cough. It probably wasn't the best idea to start picking on certain
crew member's dress sense.
"So, the brigandry sir?"
"It's quite a tale," Chess leaned back, tipping her chair so that it
immediately caught the dodgy castor and nearly sent her flying backwards.
She grabbed the edge of the desk just in time. "Right then, we're
currently orbiting somewhere called Scavengers Hub, and our mission is to
locate something called the Resurrection Casket..."
Zim eyed Chess's almost fall and wondered how many times she'd visited
sickbay while he'd been laid out with the flu. "Resurrection Casket? That
doesn't sound like a very safe thing to be looking for. It sounds a bit
Indiana Jones."
He had a soft spot for Indiana Jones and the various tomb raiding he did.
It struck a very Ferengi chord in him. Damn the sanctity and historical
importance of the site, get in and get out with the treasure.
Chess told the tale as concisely as possible, filling him in on all the
details right up to the various attempts on the crews lives, and the raid
she was planning on Jackson's mansion. "I presume you're too ill to brave
any assasination attempts down in the Jackson's Whole township?"
"I'm probably too ill to brave anything too dangerous. I mean I'd love to
an' everything, I even had all my life insurance in order just in case,
but I don't think I could manage it." Zim shrugged his padded shoulders a
little, "Plus you've seen the holo-vids. There's always someone who
sneezes or coughs at the wrong point. I'd hate to be the one."
Chess gave a brief half-smile, "That's usually my speciality. Maybe
having two of us competing for the title isn't such a good thing on a
mission like that. So how best to utilise you, is what we need to
decide."
Zim tilted his head questioningly. Though it was actually to combat the
odd light headed feeling he was getting. "I could manage staying behind
and keeping an eye on things. I can sneeze all I want then."
"Actually, That's not such a bad idea," Chess nodded. "I'll be taking
Fell, Lamarr and Patrowski with me, and de Carabas will be covering us on
the ground. But in case... in case we need a quick getaway, or extra
assistance, it's probably best to have an officer manning the ship too."
"Manning the entire ship?" Zim suddenly had images of him running up and
down the ship pressing buttons and racing against the clock. "Erm, what
exactly would I have to do sir?"
"Oh, just sit in the Captain's chair and keep monitoring us," Chess
nodded, "I hope we'll be in and out very quickly, and back up here with
whatever information we have. Then...if we get a lead, we'll be on the
trail of this mysterious Casket."
Zim grinned, the sick feeling wavering for a second, "Now that I think I
can manage. Anything in particular I should keep a lobe out for whilst
I'm monitoring?"
Chess raised an eyebrow, "Basically, just listen out for any screams or
shots and do your best to break through the planetary shield to rescue us
from certain death .." she gave another tiny quirky grin. "No, I'm not
seriously expecting trouble, not this time. Just monitor us, and also any
traffic in the area and any chatter on the airwaves and tip us off if you
think there's any trouble brewing. But hopefully we'll be in and out too
quick for them to even notice."
"Yes sir." Zim rose, a little steadier than normal, "Have fun down
there."
"I hope so, Lieutenant," she nodded by way of dismissal. "By the way it's a pleasure to meet you at last."
=^= Infirmary =^=
Vivianne was moving out from doctor Bonnenfant office when she saw a
small group of assistant and patient discussing in a corner. As she move
closer she heard a few voice complaining about something they were too
soft for her to make out the words. They were purposely talking in a low
voice like to hide a secret. As she move behind a assistant she took the
situation to use a loud voice.
"Can I know what happening here?" With a serious face
All their face became red, half shy and half ashamed. One took the chance
to answer "we were talking about mr.Bonnefant"
"You meant Doctor Bonennfant" she replied knowing where that was going.
"Well, is not very doctor like recently" one patient answered.
"Mr. Connally how that knee that the doctor fix , I see your walking on
it" she said very sharply.
"Yeah...well...yeah" he move in the back of the pack.
"What we mean, is that the doctor making us do all the work while his
with the dead bodies" Another nurse said.
"And did we cover your time off when you were having that separation
issue, As I recall the doctor gave you time off and he took the slack.
You telling me that now you have concern because you can give back the
favor while his conducting Starfleet investigation.. is that it?" now she
was angry, he eyes were throwing knife. The nurse didn't answer, she
couldn't, she knew better.
She moved forward and raise her voice " This man came in a few months ago
with big shoes to fill, Doctor Dharma was someone we admire and he had to
get us to trust him. I think he accomplish that with all of us, giving us
a chance to learn and experience new things and give the best patient
treatment I ever saw. Now Starfleet his giving is first mission on Bob
and he doesn't want to screw it up, let's stop complaining and prove him
that the team is behind him!"
The response was overwhelming, patient started to tell what he did for
them and the team started to applause. Vivianne was relief to see the
team loyalty. They were a family and they would follow him into hell.
Witch, she taught, wasn't too far away if he didn't wake up....
=^= Quarter =^=
Mike was feeling nervous, he had done some expedition and missions before
with the federation when he was assign to colonies. Breaking and entering
was not part of experiences he had live before and the fact that he still
had the picture of the old man lying there in the alley with blood
everywhere wasn't helping. He had ask for phasers but knew that wasn't
part of the plan and that agility and stealth would be the first
objective. He also knew little of the other officers he would be going
with, the captain was still a mystery and the commander had giving little
except her musical performance. Jinti, well he knew her a bit more but
still they were willing to trust him without any explanation. He would be
the one that might be potentially saving their live.
He was starting to think of what to wear for the mission when the chime
was heard. "Come in"
The door open and Carol and Tol came in "So ready for the adventure" as
Tol mock him diving around different objects. Carol was looking at him
shaking her head.
"Kinda" he answered smiling at Tol stupid act.
"You'll do fine" said Carol with her hand on his shoulder. That was the
second time she had open up to him. Not knowing what to do he smile, as
she became aware of her action her face came back to the serious look and
she took the hand off his shoulder.
"Your not kissing him got luck" Tol said laughing referring to her sudden
closeness.
"Tol" said Mike, was enough for him to calm down and drop the matter
without having a kick from Carol.
"We have gifts for you" said Carol.
"I'm coming back I'll let you know" with a huge grin.
"We know, it's just to say thanks for the nice time on the surface"
answer Tol as he push his gift in front of him.
"Thanks guys!" as he took the present and started to unwrap it. the box
was hard to open but ad he took it out he could see a marine type outfit
for night camouflage with a pair of black jean and leather jacket. Mike
at that point was confuse about the second pair of clothing.
Seeing the confusion in
purpose " The jeans and
so nobody think your up
BOOM, you change and go
Mike face Tol went forward and explain the
leather jacket goes on top of the camouflage suit
to no good, after your close to your objective ,
marine mode!"
Mike started to laugh "Alrigth thanks man"
"What funny it's super for the type of mission" he seem flustered.
"No, no, it's perfect just laughing of your explanation" he corrected
himself quickly.
"oh...yeah I'm just energetic" Tol answered as he sat back down.
Carol put hear on the table, the box was smaller. As Mike open it he saw
the American brass knuckles she had the days before on the mission. He
was touch by the gesture and could only say "Thanks"
"your welcome" was all she answered.
"That's all, that's dry, thanks...your welcome, you could cry or
kiss..."Tol added but stop when he saw the two looking at each other,
this was a moment to be quiet and was smart enough to let it be.
"Well we'll be on are way, letting you prepare for the big mission" As
both got up and started to walk toward the door.
"Thanks for the support" As he escorted them to the door.
As Tol turn the corner, Carol quickly kiss him on his cheek and said
"good luck". He didn't even have time to acknowledge the kiss before she
ran beside Tol and walk away.
Mike still amaze by the situation went back to try the outfit and the
knuckle...he would kick ass or save some but some ass would be involve!
-=- SB BoB Derelict store room -=“THIS IS AN ABOMINATION!” A voice boomed.
There were a few murmurs of agreement in the darkened room. A clutch of
bodies stood in a make shift mosh pit, looking up to a lectern made from
orange boxes.
“One of our number has betrayed us. Has made Him who shall not be named
aware of our being, of our actions. An act of treachery, or
defiance.....”
The audience groaned, discontent filled the air.
“The laundry service has stopped dropping loose Y fronts. The plan to
bootleg ponteen has gone awry. The very foundations of this cohort are
crumbling. We demand action. We shall have action.”
There was a clamour of voices. All wanting to have a go.
“I’ll do it. I’ll find her, I’ll scratch her bleedin’ eyes out.”
“Forget that for a laugh, is she married, shall do the bloke. Who done
it?”
“Family, innit. So much for a sisterhood, got a brother has she?”
“SILENCE!!” The boom sounded over a gavel. The dissenting voices mulled
down rapidly.
“We know. We know our Judas.” The voice continued. The black wall behind
the lectern was illuminated in a flash.
There was a collective gasp as an image of former counsellor Dharma was
flicked up.
Oblivious to the conversation, Arihana was searching through a stall
selling knock off designer gear in Malaga. She stuck out like a sort
thumb with the suit. When she returned to the Villa and found her
briefcase. She’d be pleasantly amused by message left for her.
“Hey, Doctor Dharma. Leave yer name, number and psychological problem
after the beep. I’ll get back to you. Ta. That’s the Beep.”
“...’Rihana, et’s me, Avril. Sorry, hun, but you’ve been busted. Found
out about you telling Him who shall not be named. Okay, so they aint the
SAS. But they will find you. When they do. Hang onto your knicker
elastic. This gonna get dirty. Thought you’d never hear this. But three
words that the CVAS is all about. Screw Cade Vaughan. Deny everything,
and burn it too.
This was meant to harmless fun. Only....they’re mad, bad and dangerous to
know. A lot like Him, I guess.A bunch of girls, all obsessed with the man
in green. That’s trouble and you know it. Dharma. You need help and for
once, hiding behind him aint an option.”
-=- SB BoB Derelict Store room -=Avril was cowering in a corner. “Please, don’t. I don’t know where she
is. All I know is that she’s only in it for the kicks.” She was telling
the truth, she had been one of the counselling bodies, part of the admin
staff when counsellor Dharma had been here. “We all plot for a piece of
flesh; she’s in it for the lobes.”
“She had a husband, didn’t she?” The voice was always disembodied; it
came from out the shadows. “Two in fact, one was as nice as pie. The
other not so?”
Avril nodded, “Yep, the nice one got away. Or said some random from
Engineering. She’s back with the Evil one. Made her walk into a door
once...and we know the rest....”
“The other rumours, the ones where she had an affair....or two....?” The
voice was starting to curl in tone.
“AAHHHHHCHHHCHHHH...yeah, all right....”Avril stammered. Chemicals were
being rapidly infused, and it hurt. “Yeah, all right. I get it. There
were pictures. We knew someone who knew someone. The assistant...and then
the accountant. She’s a tramp with loose knicker elastic. Unfaithful.
Unfaithful to the cause.”
“Indeed. Unfaithful. Now we can’t have that, now can we......”The voice
let the sentence hang as Avril screamed.Hot acid was the best for a quick
clean result.
Meanwhile, outside 37 Acacia Avenue, a beast of Ducati had roared into
the street. The engine was rumbling with red diesel, you could hear it
turn over in Timbuktu as the courier turned the throttle.
I didn't hear what you were saying. I live on raw emotion baby I answer
questions never maybe And I'm not kind if you betray me. So who the hell
are you to save me I never would have made it babe.
Kiwi watched the parcel drop through the letterbox. It landed with a thud
on the welcome mat as he padded over. Scrawled across it were the words
‘Mister’ Dharma. Earning his keep, Kiwi wrapped his jaws around it to
pick the bundle up.
Dhillon was in the kitchen. There was a dirty table cloth laid out, bits
of Gerty littered it. “Kiwi, since when have you been a Labrador. What
you got?” he asked wiping grease off his hands. “’Mister Dharma’, now
that’s plain stupid,” Dhillon shook his head to look at the envelope.
“But I do answer to most things, no matter how impolite.”
Kiwi watched with baited breath. Hoping that there would be a tasty treat
or something for him.
“The brazen hussy....”Dhillon muttered. The images were grainy, but the
message was clear. That was one Arihana Dharma in a very compromising
position. Actually, several compromising positions that would make a nun
blush. Or anyone clean living, for that matter.
He knew that tattoo anywhere. Both of them. The one was from when Suraj
was a newborn. A flared sun totem in the small of her back “Good lord,
Dharma the tramp....”Dhillon flicked through the batch.
The image drifted to the floor, as he saw the next one. The second
tattoo.
If you needed love
Well then ask for love
Could have given love
Now I'm taking love
And it's not my fault
'Cause you both deserve
What's coming now
So don't say a word
These were recent. He figured that. The second tat was a give a way.
Someone had lied. Saying that it was over a long time ago. More pictures.
Somewhere else, the clock was different. The penny dropped slowly.
Different times, different places. Knickers had been dropped across
different time zones, but always with the same person.
Wake up call Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed Don't
you care about me anymore? Don't you care about me? I don't think so. Six
foot tall Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead He won't come
around here anymore Come around here? I don't think so.
Dhillon looked up as the last picture cascaded out of his fingers and
onto the rest that littered the floor by his feet. There was only one way
to remedy this situation. Looking down he gathered up the images. The
testament of the whole sordid shindig that had resulted in the ectopic
pregnancy, he had done the maths.
“Suraj, I’m popping out for a minute, your own yer own,” he called out,
pulling the door to the one holy sanctum. No longer pure with his second
entrance. There had been small arms in there. He knew that much.
Rooting around the safe, he found what he was looking for. Was an
automatic, slick and easy to use. Fully loaded. It was his weapon of
choice. Bundling it into his pocket he slammed the study door behind him.
“Kiwi, move....”he had to step over the barking dog as he hurried out the
door.
Kiwi knew, knew that something bad was about to occur.
Would have bled to make you happy You didn't need to treat me that way
And now you beat me at my own game And now I'm finally sleeping soundly
And your lover's screaming loudly I hear a sound and hit the ground
He just couldn’t take it. Not again. He really didn’t care where the
images had come from. Or who had sent them. It was proof. That was all
that mattered. Starting up his Ford Prefect, he snatched down the
handbrake and put his foot down.
If you needed love Well then ask for love Could have given love Now I'm
taking love And it's not my fault 'Cause you both deserve What's coming
now So don't say a word
“I need to see my accountant,” Dhillon shoved the door open into the
office. “And no, don’t have an appointment,” he added, the barrel peeking
from under his jacket.
“Dhillon, just a sec,” Jay looked up to cancel the call. “What can I-”
He was cut off. But the bullet hit him straight between his eyes, and
travelled through his brain. It was all so quick.
I'm so sorry darling Did I do the wrong thing? Oh, what was I thinking?
Is his heart still beating?
Woah oh ohh
He was in a world of his own as he drove back. Out of the corner of his
eye, he could see it. See the barrel, the trigger. He had to get rid, and
quickly. Birmingham blurred past him as he drove the battered Ford
Prefect. Canals. Birmingham had more canals then Venice. Stepping into
fifth gear, he headed towards Canon hill.
I don't feel so bad
(Wake up call)
I don't feel so bad
(Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed)
I don't feel so bad
(Don't you care about me anymore?)
Care about me?
I don't feel so bad.
Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don't you care about me anymore?
Dhillon was driving on adrenaline, and not a lot else. The window on the
passenger side whizzed down as the car corralled along side the canal.
Reaching over, he took it into his palm again. Then, without thinking
twice, he flicked his wrist to launch it.
With a soft splash, the pistol went to sleep with the fishes.
=^= Mattingly quarters =^=
Baxter Mattingly, owner of Cadbury's in Birmingham, was munching on a
chocolate egg with creamy white and yellow filling when an odd looking
figure approached.
"It is almost time," the man said. "Have you decided?"
"I don't need my dreams," Baxter said.
"Oh really?" the man said. "They need you. They miss you. Think of how
good it feels. Think of how much you want and don't have. It can all be
yours."
Baxter felt his dream shift. All the things he'd ever wanted began to
drift past him. Yus was there. Chocolate was there. He was captain of
BoB. No he was on Raven and he as an admiral. It was so cool. His desk
was filled with chocolate - white, dark, milk.
Nuts. "Nuts," Baxter said. "You know. It does sound like a good idea."
"I knew you would come around," the man said.
"Still ..." Baxter said.
"Just let it sink in," the man said. "Sink in. Sink in. Sink in."
The pounding startled Baxter and he got up off the sofa and opened the
door. Crewman Prang stood there with MacDougal.
"Sir, you left the dog out," he said. "And you didn't go to see Mrs.
Wesley. She's been biting my ear off for two hours because of it. Not
only that, you said you'd be in your office and you're here."
"Don't use that tone to me," Baxter said as MacDougal gave him the cold
shoulder and went into the bedroom.
"I don't care, Sir," Prang stated. "I really don't. I'm tired. I've been
working a double shift. You and Vega are harder to find than dew on the
bottom of a leprechaun and I'm darned if I don't prefer to rest in the
brig than do one more thing today."
"Prang," Baxter said. "I'm just taking one little break from a very busy
day. You're not the only one. And what do you mean you can't find Vega?
Just look harder and don't bother me for the rest of the day. See Vega."
Baxter closed the door and heard Prang swear.
"That little ..." Baxter yawned. "Well, I'll just take one more nap
before I look for what's her name, girlie girl."
He went over to the sofa and went to sleep.
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's quarters =/\=
Mort finally found Sammy under a pile of dirty clothes on his couch. Mort
grabbed him, placed him on his arm, and the dummy came to life.
"Aaaaaaarrrrrghhhh!"
"Sammy! Calm down!"
"Calm down!?" the puppet shrieked. "I've been under your dirty clothes
pile for a week!"
"We have to talk. I have some news to share."
"News?"
"I've received an...offer." Mort was deliberately vague.
"Offer? They're not kicking you off the starbase, are they?"
"No, this comes from...off the base."
"A new job? I don't believe it. Who would want you, anyway?" Come clean,
what is this all about?"
"I'm really not supposed to say. I'l leaning toward accepting, but I have
to make sure that everyone is able to live with that..."
"I'm sure we'll all just have to pick up the pieces," the dummy drolled.
"Wait! Does this mean you aren't taking me with you?!"
"Well, that really isn't possible I'm afraid..." Mort heard a chime at
the door, and quickly shoved Sammy back under the clothes pile.
"Come in!"
=/\= SB BoB - Lower Promenade =/\=
Gigi toyed with her Chicken Fettucine, waiting for Lupha to join her.
The tables in Risotorante Caruso were fairly empty, as the main shift
changeover hadn't happened yet. The wise ones knew to get in early to the
cheerful, clean little Italian cafe tucked away on the lower promenade.
Lupha brought her own plate of Pizza Margharita with raddicio salad over,
and slid into the booth seat opposite Gigi. "So..what happened? I heard
there was trouble."
"Trouble? Ha, trouble don't even cover it," Gigi waved her fork about.
"Man, Il Hombre, he ripped her to pieces! Like, shouting and stern, I
almost fell off my seat," her eyes sparkled with an atavistic memory of
fear and thrill.
"The word is, she got demoted," Lupha started cutting her pizza up. "Good
job too, if you ask me."
"Yeah, I heard that, too. Serve her right," Gigi declared. "Il Hombre was
like.. magnificent," she gave a dreamy sigh and a laugh. "But Madre de
Dios, he's scary when he's angry."
"I'll stick with working under the Captain, I think," Lupha tucked in
with a grin.
"Too right. And I'll stick with Baxter. At least I don't have to jump to
attention when he's around. I'll save Il Hombre for dream-time," Gigi
gave a cheeky wink.
"Yeah, that reminds me, is he around much these days?" Lupha tried to ask
casually. "It's just I haven't seen him much around the Cooand centre
recently..."
Gigi busied herself with her food. "Dunno," she mumbled. "Yeah, he's
probably busy."
Lupha gave her a quizzical look, but said nothing, just speared a
mouthful of piza.
Vivianne try to enjoy her lunch time since it was the only time she could
leave the infirmary. As she took a sandwich and soup she notice Lupha and
Gigi at a table. She decided to see walk over, talking about something
else that medicine would only make her lunch better. "Hi , can I join
you?"
"Hello Vivienne," Lupha recognised the nurse from the infirmary. "Sure,
come on over."
Gigi didn't know the other woman, but smiled in welcome, "Hi there. I'm
Gigi - I work security."
"I'm Vivianne, the doctor assistant while Mike is away on the Caly" She
grin.
"Ah right, one of the dishy doctor's handmaidens," Gigi chuckled. "How's
things in the infirmary these days?"
She smile knowing full well about the rumor of the doctors conquests.
"Busy, the doctor as been extra careful with the bodies of the unknown
ship" She didn't want to reveal to much information.
"Yeah. Weird business," Gigi said cautiously.
"And you ladies?" As Vivienne sat down.
Lupha put down her fork. "I'm going to be honest here," she looked over
her shoulder to make sure no-one else was listening. " I think something
odd is going on. The Captain...isn't around much these days. One of my
assistants skives off work as much as he can. Hardly any of the senior
officers check their duty stations in the command centre any more. I
don't know what to make of it." She picked up her fork again to start
hastily eating.
This gave Gigi the impetus to speak. "It's like that in security too,"
she kept her voice low. "It's not just me that's noticed it. Baxter stays
in his office whenever he can, and vega is always vanishing off
somewhere. They don't say why, they just... stay away. It's not like
they're being horrible or over-straict or anything. They just don't seem
to care any more."
"Same here, the
up to standars,
captain but..."
for her. " It's
decide to relax
smirk.
staff are working almost double shift to keep everything
I know is busy with the bodies and want to impress the
Not knowing if any of them knew about the feeling he had
strange that all the seniors officers at the same time
or they're just having parties and we're not invited" she
"Not...all of them," Gigi said quickly.
"Really?" Lupha swallowed another mouthful. "Who's still staying sharp
then?"
"Il Hombre," Gigi smirked. "Major Vaughan," she translated for Vivienne's
benefit. "I tell you, there's nothing relaxed about him. When I saw him
the other day he was firing on all cylinders. And how!" she gave a goofy
grin. "Yeah, he's right on the ball. Which makes it even more odd."
"Yeah," Lupha agreed. "I mean, if it was the Major and the Captain, well,
they're usually in the thick of things together, but if it's just one and
not the other... then it's plain crazy."
"Yeoman Wagstaff said she saw him coming out of the captain's office the
other day, and he didn't look pleased at *all*." Now the floodgates had
opened, Gigi was into a full show-and-tell.
"Uh-oh..." Lupha looked worried. "I don't like the sound of this at
*all.*."
"We don't see Mr. Vaughan often, he came once since the doctor here, but
a marine is a marine. Hopefully he will maybe get some answers that we
can't have. Sometimes I would love to be a fly to hear what their saying
to each other.."
Gigi and Lupha excganged glances, having know the command team for
several years now. Gigi laughed quietly, "They're either two souls made
of the same ether, or fighting like cat and dog. Either way, it's
probably X-rated."
Lupha laughed too, then sobered up, "Except right now, they aren't even
fighting. They're just...apart."
"That's bad. Like the Tower of London's Ravens," Gigi said obscurely.
"Maybe you ought to speak to one of them?" Lupha said hesitently.
"No. No way, not my place. besides, I don't think Il Hombre would want me
bringing him *more* trouble," Gigi said firmly. "What about you,
Vivienne? Have you tried talking to Doctor Bonnenfant about him being so
absent?"
"Yes, I did, the reason was less than acceptable. The bodies seem to be
his first priority. But knowing him it can be is only one, he multitask
so well before that I found it hard to believe he only has time for the
bodies. When I confront him, he said it was alot of work and alot of
tests... Maybe he as other ... more personal business... he is somewhat
popular with some ladies but again he hardly get out of the room."
"I sure don't think it's romantic business, for *any* of them," Lupha
sighed. "Even for Doctor Bonnenfant."
"Did any of you had something strange happening to them, hopefully it's
not a disease that spreading, I suggest we keep in contact and make our
own little investigation..." She smile.
"Strange? Nope. Nothing," Gigi shrugged. "It's been
Quieter than I've ever known it to be. Well, except
course. But if it was something contagious we'd all
anyway. Yeah, maybe try and put the pieces together
can."
really quiet here.
for the bodies of
be infected by now
ourselves. If we
"I think it would be a good course of action since all our senior staff
except mister marine seem to be affected. I wonder if it's physical or
mental. Because the doctor seem exhauted for some reason, he seem to be
sleeping alot and pulling long shift. Migth be happening at later
hours.."
"Like, midnight raids?" Lupha asked.
Gigi had finished her meal by now. "You mean, we follow them?
Individually? Or all together and choose just one to follow?"
"Following the doctor wouldn't be hard, he's always in that room, maybe
if we could tap into the sytem and see what he's doing in there" looking
around to make sure nobody could here her. "our we could follow someone
else. Mind you that the captain migth by also a good way to start."
"It's better than just sitting about worrying," Lupha nodded.
"Sure. I'm in. How about we meet up later, after shift, and see who's
around, and who's the best target?" Gigi said.
"Sounds like a plan, How about we meet here?" As she finished her soup.
"I'm in," Lupha pushed her empty plate away and stood up.
"Me too," Gigi smirked. "Until...midnight."
-=- SB BoB Science -=Tom checked the door again. Locked. To keep him in, and everyone else
out. He had much to think about. In particular the offer made by the
‘bodies’. It was all so intriguing but also unsettling. All at the same
time. He was giving the offer some serious consideration.
The door was checked again. Third time for luck. He didn’t want to be
disturbed.
Meanwhile, in the Arboretum, Harry and Richard were taking soil samples
from around a Venus fly trap.
“Now, be caping yer trap shut,” Harry poked a clothes peg around the
venus. “Well bay just a men-ute. You got too much acid in yer roots.”
“Tom’s been acting very strange, you know,” Richard commented. “has
hijacked the labs, and it’s all a bit dodgy. Won’t be letting anyone in.”
“I know,” Harry returned. “I ded troi and ask em, but all I gots were a
loada abuse. Dat man nades hes head examined. Et’s them bodies, I tells
yer.”
Tom drained a conical flask of tea. It kept him awake. All he wanted to
do was sleep. So far he had scored for England, and roller skated with
three non-blondes. He was trying. Trying to decide.
“You know, Deck, heys bean awful aloof,” Harry thwacked the trap lightly
before he lost a finger.
“I’ll say. Then again, who hasn’t?” Richard asked. “Security has ground
down. Her holiness the beautiful blonde of Engineering, can’t get within
an inch to run a spec analysis.”
“Too true, den, den dere is the cap’n.” Harry tutted, another thwack for
the plant. “Shey be dossin’ too, you know.”
Tom settled into the bean bag in the corner of the lab. He would. He
would join them.
“Thing is, Harry,” Richard paused to untie a root from his boot. “With
Her in Charge bit absent. You know what that means....”
“Aye do. When shays a bit off colour, and way knows that don’t happen dat
often.....et’s a case of ‘Cowabunga, Dude’, with the fella in green.”
“Aint it just,” Richard snipped a piece of Xylem and some more phloem to
whistle a random Bond theme tune. “Can’t just imagine the sort of things
in his war chest. Martinis, girls and guns. Some fellas have all the
luck.”
“I’ll say. Wouldn’t git in his way,” Harry shook his head vehemently,
“Not if you paid me.”
“Heard about his fan club?” Richard sealed his samples. “Nutters, I tell
you. At least we aint got that problem. Suede or Leather, sweetness and
joy...”he gave a saccharine smile.
“Too true,” Harry chuckled quietly. “Madam Mulder,” he swooned.
-= Mulder's Office - Starbase BoB =Elise stood outside Captain Mulder's office and ran the chime for the
third time. The computer had told her the Captain was in...and yet...no
response. She was beginning to wonder if she ought to fetch help when she
finally received a response.
Mulder blinked away the remains of the dream she'd been having and
sighed. Life was a constant stream of interruptions. In case it was
vaughan come back to plague her she sat up straight, arranged the Padds
on her desk so it looked like she was working and called briskly, "Come
along in."
Brushing an imginary wrinkle from her skirt Elise stepped through the
door. Having taken the opportunity to shower and change she was feeling
far more put together than she had an hour ago. She knew she looked it
too in a tailored black skirt and burgundy silk blouse. "Captain Mulder?"
"Yes?" Mulder looked at the smartly dressed, intelligent looking older
woman who had appeared - definately nothing Starfleet about her, so
probably not replacement crew. "And you are?"
Elise shifted a PADD from right hand to left and extended her hand, "Dr.
Elise Lansing, I was actually supposed to be here several weeks ago, I've
got a contract to lease part of your science facility."
"You have?" Mulder shook the proffered hand, looking slightly bemused. "A
scientist? Ah...well..." It was probably somewhere on her computer but
since she'd not really bothered reading messages that didn't have a red
urgent sticker on them, she wouldn't have seen it. "Right. Do take a
seat. I'll have a look," she waved to a chair and sank thankfully back
into her own. "Communication between the outside world and here isn't
always what it should be."
Elise gave the Captain a wry look at she took a seat, "Considering the
ship I arrived on, I'm somehow not surprised by that."
Mulder was skimming through the backlong of messages, and even she felt a
pang of guilt as she looked at the pages and pages of unopened cyber
mail. "Why don't you tell me briefly what the score is, whilst I look for
it?"
"Okay. My specialty is in spatial phenomena. Particularly those that
involve plasma. I did some work in the Badlands for my thesis and spent a
few years in deep space recently studying some relatively unstudied
phenomena. The work I did there gave me enough of a springboard that I
was able to secure funding for a two-year study of the Typhon Expanse.
Starfleet is hoping my findings can be used to help build a navigation
system that is safer to use in that region so they offered to help my
funding by letting me use this as a base." Elise plunged ahead with her
explanation, despite the fact that Mulder's face resembled that of her
first year Astrophysics students when she'd been teaching.
"Right," Mulder was nodding, taking in about 75 per cent of what Elise
was saying. "Hang on, yes, here's the official communique. So, you're
assigned to help out on an as-and-when basis, in return for research
space. That seems reasonable."
"That's correct, I have mostly my own equipment and a small ship if I
need to get out and plant equipment near the Expanse. I also have two
graduate students on Earth that are going to be doing some long-distance
assistant work as needed. I will have some downtime though and when the
base is in high alert most of my studies would need to be suspended
anyway. I've worked as a civilian on military ships before, so I am
familiar with most of the procedures." Elise crossed her legs an forced
herself to keep her hands still, resisting the urge to figit with her
hair, a bad habit she'd picked up from Alyssa.
Mulder reached for a cup of coffee. It had gone cold but she couldn't be
bothered to go and get a fresh cup. The strong black liquid gave her a
minor caffeine rush and she felt a bit more awake. "The situation here is
that we have science levels technically on decks 13 through to 30. In
reality, we only use deck 13 as frankly there's not enough people even to
begin to man most of them."
"Deck 13 has three large laboratories. One is the general station
activity centre. It's manned by shifts on enlisted crew, and takes care
of all our day to day diagnostics and incoming data. The second lab is
reserved for use by visiting starfleet ships. Our border patrol ships
aren't really set up with spacious science facilities, and there aren't
any specific science vessels assigned to this sector. So, the science
crews tend to book space when they stopover to do larger scale research
and projects. Now, the third lab is currently unused - maybe you would
like to take that on for your own research? You can set up all your
equipment in there and it'll give you some degree of privacy too." Mulder
didn't add that it would also lessen the chances of anyone stealing
Elise's equipment..
"That sounds more than adequate. I do have a small ship as well, mostly
large sensor arrray with enough room for a single operator. I plan to use
it to place some sensor bubbles that I've had designed. I may also need
it later for taking more detailed readings or maintenance on the bubbles.
Having a space in a shuttlebay would help as well," Elise said, making a
quick notation regarding the science decks.
"You'd be better off using one of the upper shuttlebays, rather than the
lower ones," Mulder said after a moment's thought. "They're all but
empty, and nearer to the science labs anyway. If you see an empty deck
with just two craft on it - a funky black fighter vessel and a big ugly
solid runabout, they're both mine. Park on thedeck below - people know
better than to put their grubby paws on the goods in that area," Mulder
gave a grin. "Anything else I can help you with?"
"I was also told that the station had a school or educational facility.
Is there somewhere that I can get information on that?" Elise inquired.
"You want to teach, too?"
"No," Elise clarified, "I've spent time teaching and haven't missed it a
bit since I left. I do, however, have my teenage daughter with me, she'll
be the one attending."
"I see. Yes, we do have a small but quite adequate school system here. In
fact, come to think of it, I believe the grades are higher than expected,
coming out of BoB," Mulder tried to remember something she'd vaguely
skimmed over a few weeks ago. "Probably because there isn't any escape
from studies. Or maybe the students are afraid that if they don't study
hard, they'll end up here on a permanent basis..."
"Considering my daughter's reaction when I told her we were coming here,
that could be a very good deterrent indeed."
"There's several children of the generic teenage description around,
though most of them seem to be very Goth, for some reason," Mulder
thought of Shazza Comfort, and found herself taken aback, "At least, most
of them were teenagers when I started here. They're young adults now.
Damn. I feel old. But there's still a few around. They combine studies
with part-time jobs. Several work for the Underatakers on the main
promenade. I believe it suits their gothic ethos.."
"Is there anything we need to do for accomodations?" It wasn't only the
first time she'd worked on a base versus a ship, but it was also the
first time she'd brought Alyssa with her, it created a slight
unfamiliarity.
"Accomodation, you can sort for yourself. We're not exactly cramped
here," Mulder gave a quiet laugh. "The habitat levels are on decks
eighty-one to eighty-eight, so simply find somewhere you like - I believe
an apartment comes with the deal anyway - and register yourself with the
administration offices, on the other side of this walkway, when you get
the chance. If you ask the computer about schooling it'll give you
directions and times and contacts, you can check it out."
"That sounds acceptable. Anything else?"
"Be aware though, that basic accomodation is very sparse, you might have
to go on a scavenger hunt for extra furniture," Mulder added the
statutory advice. "You're also entitled to basic replicator ration
allowance included in the accomodation, but the good news is there's
plenty of cafes and restaurants on the station - a surprisingly large
number, to cater to all tastes and incomes, so in that, at least, we are
very well provided for."
"That's excellent, I've never been a fan of replicators, despite their
somewhat common use. There's something to be said for food that someone's
spent time and energy on," she offered the Captain a easy smile.
"Absolutely," Mulder agreed. "Most people will be happy to give you
reccomendations, too. This station isn't exactly conventional, but it
does have it's good points."
"I suppose if that's it then, I'll let you get back to your work. I know
the captain of the transport ship we came on wants to depart soon so I
really ought to get this information to him before he takes off with all
my equipment."
"That's fine. And feel free to make yourself known to the various key
officers in the team too. I'd especially reccomend Doctor Bonnenfant, as
medical and science tend to work closely together during emergencies. And
remember, my door is always open for any questions you might have."
Elise gave Mulder another smile and a nod, "I'm sure I'll see you around
then. I appreciate your help."
"You're most welcome," Mulder walked with her to the door. "Welcome to
BoB, and I hope your stay here is as rewarding as you'd like it to be."
But after she'd gone, Mulder had to wonder just exactly how long she
herself would be around, if she took up the Verolians offer. Maybe she
needed to make a final decision soon. One way or another, things couldn't
go on the way they were...
=/\= SB BoB, Mort Feldman's quarters =/\=
"Come in!" Mort said, stuffing Sammy underneath the pile of dirty clothes
again.
It was like clowns piling out of a volkswagen at the circus. There was
Flo, S'haft, and Westin from the club, plus Schenider Harrington.
Folloowing them were several people he didn't recognize.
flo took the lead. "So *there* you are! We've been wondering what's
happened to you!"
Mort turned a bit red. "Nothing...I mean...nowhere."
Westin pushed forward. "This is an intervention! At least, I think it is.
Its drugs, isn't it? So, what are you hooked on, boss? Martian
slimeballs? Andevian coklesnorts? Orion oraljets? Felusian Fizzbangers?
Oooh, I bet its Felusian Fizzbangers, am I right!?"
We're here for you, boss," Scheider added. "But remember, only you can
help you."
"I am NOT hooked on drugs, I just..." Mort began to explain.
"We demand an explaination!," interuppted a large, rotund woman who
stepped forward from the back of the pack. "I am Matilda Matlock, and
have been waiting in the counseling office for you to show up for my
appointment!"
Several other ladies also stepped forward with stern looks on their
faces. Matilda pointed to one of them. "Mrs. Methusela here has been
living in your waiting room for days! Think of the hardship you have put
her through!"
"Well, twasnt really all that bad..." mumbled Mrs. Methusela.
But Matilda continued anabated. "And the other ladies here have alos been
stood up for appointments. What kind of couselor are you? At least the
odd blue one kept appointments!"
S'haft then added his two cents. "Logic suggests, that when a previously
responsible person begins to act irresponibly, somthing must be the
cause."
Flo finally spoke again. "Sugar, what we are all wantin to know his, what
has happened to you? Why the awol routine for the last two weeks?"
Mort remained silient for a few moments, and then opened his mouth to
speak. But Sammy got there first.
The dummy burst out from underneath the clothes pile. "I know! I KNOW!"
-= Lt Vega's Office =Vega was pacing her office. She wanted to know who knew what and how long
they'd known about it. She had been a little tired lately, actually,
she'd slept in her office for nearly fourteen hours. It had been a great
sleep though. Then she noticed that her padds had started to pile from
the floor. She looked at it and saw that some of them were for Baxter.
Then she became angry. His non-workingness had even disrupted some of her
sleep.
She went out into main security and looked around. "Anyone seen Baxter?"
"He's ordered us not to disturb him ma'am. We take those orders to
heart." said one of the officers.
"Well, I'm not under that order." She walked over to his office and
pressed the chime. And kept pressing.... and did so some more. "OPEN UP!"
Baxter was snoring. He didn't usually snore, but he was this time. He was
in a bathtub of chocolate and Yus was with him. He was just about to
touch her ...
"What the heck is that racket?" he growled opening his eyes. "Blast and
double blast."
He got up and slipped the lock off his office door. It slid open to
reveal Vega.
"Finally." She said as she looked at him. "What are you doing commander?"
"I'm going over reports," he said. "What are you doing? I've been trying
to find you for hours."
"That's a lie and you know it commander." She said, looking at him
defiantly.
"Right," Baxter said. "Hurry up and report. I want to get a nap in. I've
been up too long. Not getting enough sleep."
"Well you haven't been doing your reports sir! You really haven't and
it's been landing on my desk!"
"Say, did you check out that fish guy civilian?" Baxter remembered. If he
could get her to check something out, he could go back to sleep.
"Fish guy... nah.. didn't have enough time. Can't even catch a few z's
without you ordering me to do something. Now explain why you're dumping
all your work on me!"
"I've been tired lately," Baxter said. "I need my beauty rest."
"You don't need sleep. Eat chocolate!" She said.
"Good idea," he said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out chocolate
kisses. He passed some to Vega. "I thought you liked reports. Besides,
I've been giving the really hard work to Snell. He needs experience."
"Sure." She took a seat. "What's really been going on?"
"You know, Vega, I've been having these really wonderful dreams," he
said. "Chocolate everywhere. When you dream, what do you usually see?"
"Dreams....mine have been wonderful as well. I've been an admiral working
at Starfleet command, and then the Vorelian man showed up...."
Baxter looked surprised. He raised an eyebrow.
"You've seen him as well?"
"Yep," he said. "So what do you think?"
She looked at him, seeing his starry eyes. "I don't like it. I really
want to go but it doesn't seem right. There's always something fishy. I
mean, I've never even heard of his species before, and I'm pretty good at
learning about species."
"I hated the idea at first," Baxter admitted. "But now, I'm thinking it's
a pretty good deal. I'm about ready to go for it."
He yawned.
"I'm guessing you'd like to sleep." She said. "I think it's time to go to
the captain. Maybe she'd be able to help us."
"I somehow hate to bother her," Baxter said. "In fact, I don't have the
energy. But I guess you're right. Can we take a nap first?"
In the end, the two of them headed to see Mulder.
=/\=Deck 38, outer ring Counsellor Arihana Dharma’s office....two years
ago... =/\=
There was a sign on the office door, which reads:
Having a crisis. Leave me alone. Go annoy Parvis. Ta much. ADH.
Arihana was sitting at her desk, elbows resting on the tabletop, her head
in hands. The Counsellor sniffed, wiping away the tears that had streamed
down her face with her teal sleeve. Placing the tip of her tongue on her
lip, she could feel the gash. There was some swelling too. Arihana
couldn’t be asked to find the doctor, or find a medikit to do it herself.
This was between her and Dhillon. Dhillon and her.
Arihana wiped away more tears. It didn’t make sense. He had no reason to
question her, to question her fidelity. She was shaken; feeling quite
abused, and had no idea what she was going to do about it.
She would soon go into shock. Arihana was already shaking, dazed and
confused. Her brain was flashing red and yellow neon signs that told her
to go get drunk. Only that was probably not the wisest thing to do.
Randomly shuffling pads on her desk, she came across a padd that had been
pushed back for some reason. Tapping it, she read her own ramblings. An
organisation of some sorts. A fan club, in layman terms. Arihana
continued to read. Not much of it made sense. There a cohort of
individuals, mainly women. All with a common cause.
Standing, Arihana wiped her nose nosily. Do you need a hero, a legend,
her own handwriting asked her. Notes from a group therapy session. Are
you looking for a man that with a flick of his wrist can start Apocalypse
now and actually save the world?
Were random questions. Leaving her office, she headed into a lift.
According the notes, this groups met regularly.
That, and she needed superhero.
A derelict store room, was what Arihana discovered. This being BoB, there
were a fair few off them. This one was tucked away from grasping hands.
Her security clearance was in league with a dead gnat, but on being
entered into the panel on the side. Let her in.
Scanning around the room, it was dark. As though she was standing in a
chapter of an Ann Rice novel. There were candles burning, Arihana had to
wrinkle her nose up at the horrible scent of roses.
“Hello?” she called out. A thudding sound, caused a light to implode on.
The room was bathed in a deep glow.
“Welcome,” a disembodied voice told her. “ A new recruit, I believe. Who
has come without any persuasion.”
“Who are you?” Arihana asked, rubbing her eyes. “More to the point, where
are you?” she squinted to look around. “Fer the love of Jose....”
The exclamation was a quaint one. But warranted. The room was full of
paraphernalia. A welsh flag, dog eared and worn, hung across a wall like
bunting. There was rather badly proportioned wax work figure in the
corner, completer with papier mache Kevlar body armour and helmet. There
was plethora of other goodies.
“Your questions shall be answered soon enough. But you are here for the
moment. Looking for a man. The legend, the superhero.”
Arihana frowned, wincing to catch the gash on her lip. “I’m here, ‘cause
I’m paid to look for fruitloops. What, who, I mean, eh?” she mused.
“The Cade Vaughan appreciation Society, established way back when,” was
the reply. “You’ll have seen us in your notes. We hoped you would come
find us.”
Arihana rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m in the middle of crisis,” she turned
to leave. “Can’t be doing with adolescent girls who have a hero worship
complex, I’m going.”
“Brains.”
Arihana stopped.
“Brains. Those of Cade Vaughan. Want them?”
=^= Oliverez quarters =^=
Alexi Oliverez paced around his quarters like a trapped panther. He was
waiting for an inter-space message to go through to the Enforcer. He was
waiting to see a pretty face and a bright smile. This was not good at all
- she was on patrol; he was at BoB. He hadn't thought it would bother him
like this. It had bothered him so much, he'd even snapped at the
communications officer who had said, "Is this a priority, Commander?"
He'd admitted it wasn't; maybe not for the fleet, but it certainly was a
priority for him.
"Commander, the connection has been made," a voice said.
Alexi hurried to the screen.
"Ann?" he asked watching the picture flicker for a moment.
=/\= USS Enforcer =/\=
"Alexi!" Ann paused mid-way to her commconsole, wondering what the
urgency was. "I saw there was a priority message - is everything okay?"
Alexi looked concerned. He didn't want her to worry. "Everything's fine,"
he said. "I told the communications officer it wasn't a work priority.
She must have assumed it was still priority."
Aware of her crewmates looks around her, she gave a self-conscious laugh,
"That's what happens when you pull rank. Someone somewhere must have
thought it was urgent."
"It was urgent," he said. "Urgent that I see you and hear your voice."
Ann blushed prettily, "You're very kind. I wish *all* emergencies were
this pleasant. But I'm on the bridge of the Enforcer right now so...."
Captain Cadwallader was unashamedly listening in, and she stood up with a
grin. "Go on, you're due off-duty soon anyway. Shoo. You're making the
MacDonald Brothers blush."
At the helm, the two totally unembarrassed Scottish brothers laughed.
"If that's okay?" Ann didn't want to be seen as shirking her duty,
especially in light of the past few weeks.
"Perfectly," Caddie assured her. "I can easily cover for you. Now go, and
say hello to you handsome fella for me."
"Well, there we have it, Captain's Orders," Ann told Alexi with a grin.
"Give me five minutes to get to my quarters, and I'll transfer the call."
"I'll be waiting," he said.
-= Ann's Quarters ="So...." Ann sat herself down and smiled at Alexi. "This is unexpected and extremely nice. How are you? How's things at BoB? Same old madhouse?"
"It's the same old madhouse," he agreed. "BoB is much as it usually is,
although I don't think anything's trying to eat anyone just now. There's
some odd things going on, but it could be perfectly normal. I don't know.
Just a feeling I've gotten. I did spend some time with the marines lately
on one of their exercises."
Ann gave a chuckle, "And how did you get on with BoB's Bad Boys?"
"I survived," he said. "Barely."
"Well I hope you survived intact. Otherwise I shall have to have words
with them," Ann gave him a cheeky wink. "Can't have them damaging someone
special. But how are you generally? It's been so long since I saw you at least, it feels that way."
"As to how I am," Alexi said, "that's the problem. I miss you, Ann. I
miss our talks, our walks and evenings out. I'm sorry though that I
interrupted your shift. I don't regret it though since I can't tell you
how good I felt hearing your voice."
"That's such a wonderful thing to say," Ann softly replied. "You don't
know what a wonderful compliment you've paid me. And how about your
daughter? I hope she's doing okay too?"
"I almost forgot, Keiko says hello and wonders if you know how to braid
hair. She's decided a nice braid down her back would be marine. The
problem is, her hair isn't that long yet. I think she's planning ahead,"
he said.
"Braid hair?" Ann grinned, "Maybe there's a touch of the little girl
coming out there after all, even if she says it's for marine-purposes.
I'll have to spend some time with her when I get back, maybe help her to
see that it's possible to be feminine *and* a tough-gal too."
"What's been going on with you?" he asked.
Ann gave a short laugh, "This is the Enforcer. What *isn't* going on.
This ship is a trouble-magnet. I blame the Red Dragon on the front. It's
like a target. But no, nothing too serious so far." She began ticking
items off on her fingers. "We have one Ferengi transport ship breakdown
to attend to. Plus one civilian tour ship breakdown - and I swear the
civilians were more cranky than the Ferengi..."
"Any fighting or fear thereof?" he asked, concerned.
"We had a bit of a skirmish with a couple of suspected border raiders
from out of Breen space. We think there's a bit of smuggling going on
across the borders, and so we fired a few shots to send them back into
their own space. Chances are they'll be out and about again by the time
we're out of range, though," she sighed philosophically.
"That's usually the case since we can't be everywhere at every time in
space," Alexi mused.
"We also saw a new nebula when we made a detour to re-supply a tiny
scientific research outpost. I got some holovids shots of it to show you
when we get back. Truly awesome sight."
"I can't wait to see them," he said, not adding, "and you."
"Ann smiled, "I did have this idea that involved you and me, a bottle of
excellent wine, and my work snaps on the holo-recorder." She gave him an
inviting look, "I know that might sound terribly dull, but I've been
looking forward to seeing you again so much, doing quiet things together
so we can just...be together, if that makes sense?"
"I was just thinking the same thing, so I have to say it makes perfect
sense," Alexi admitted. "That sounds like a grand date - our first one
when you return. I'll warn you now, it will be one of many. I intend to
squeeze in as many as possible before you ship out again. Besides, if you
can braid, you're a definite asset. Ann, seriously, I miss you more than
I'd miss my favorite phaser if I lost it. And that is the best security
compliment I can think of."
Ann threw back her head and laughed, "Indeed, it's a grand compliment to
pay a lady."
"It wasn't generally romantic though, was it?" he said smiling.
"Depends on your definition of romantic," she cupped her chin in her hand
as she rested her elbow on the table. "It sure sounded sweet to me. Being
so far away from everyone that matters in my personal life, it's very
heart-warming to know I'm missed."
"How's your son?" he asked.
"Fine, as far as I know," Ann looked slightly puzzled. "I spoke to him
only a few days ago - why?"
"I'm just curious, does he have a lady in his life?" Alexi wondered.
"He does, yes..." Ann gave a quizzical look. "I haven't had the pleasure
of meeting her yet, although he keeps promising me he'll introduce her
when I'm next around. he's been promising *that* for the last three
months now. I think he's afraid I'll disapprove. Apparently she's a Goth,
called Matilda, although she goes by the name of Morticia and works parttime in Clive's caskets, of all places. It all sounds a little strange,
but if he's happy, who am I to complain? I understand she's doing well in
her finals, so she's intelligent. According to Morrie, anyway," she
rolled her eyes.
"I'm happy to say my daughter has yet to reach the age of concern," Alexi
laughed. "I imagine I'll be quite a formidable father-figure when dating
boys appear on the scene. I also suspect they'll be wearing marine
green."
"And *I* always imagined Morrie would settle for some nice conventional
girl-next-door type," Ann warned him, "But it only goes to show that they
can sometimes go for completely the opposite to what you expect."
"I suppose she could surprise me with some long-haired artist type," he
smiled. "That might even relieve me somewhat."
"Oh, goodness, the last long-haired artist on the station was that Raoul
Wainscoting chap. A fully fledged womaniser if ever there was one."
"She'd be able to knock his block off if she needed to," he stated.
"I'm sure she would - if her father didn't get to him first," Ann
chuckled.
"There isn't some big burly male in your life who'd knock my block off if
I got out of line is there?" he joked.
"No," she said firmly. "Not at all. It's been at least a year since I
last dated anyone, and that wasn't serious." She smiled, "Like I
mentioned once, I haven't usually found much time in my life for personal
pleasures. This... has come as a surprise.."
"You can't be anymore surprised than I am," Alexi said. "Wasn't even
thinking of going out with anyone other than a dinner with a friend."
"I think that's the secret, though, isn't it? If you're not looking for
something, it usually appears anyway. I believe in fate, when the time is
right, the time is right. And I think fate has been very kind to me
recently."
"And to me, although I prefer to call fate, God," he said. "Whatever has
brought us together, I give a great deal of thanks to."
"I suppose I ought to be asking you the same question though..."
"Indeed?" he asked, smiling. "And which question is that?"
"About ladies in your life," she gave an impish grin. "Will I have to
borrow Stefan Nowack's arsenal of weaponry to fight off any other
admirers? I think I ought to know if I need to go into battle for you..."
"There is a complete dearth of females waiting to compete with you, Ann,
so you can put your weaponry aside. The only one is a short, adorable
Japanese marine in training and you only need to worry about her if she
puts on her fatigues," he laughed. "The last woman I dated was not at all
amused when I adopted Keiko. I discovered she was not only selfish but
excessively prejudiced and not the kind of woman I wanted to bring home
to mother. It hadn't been anything very serious to start with, but she
made me so angry, I just gave up trying anymore. That is until now ..."
"I think we met at the right time, right place," Ann happily agreed. "And
if your daughter is happy as well, that's rather the icing on the cake."
"Well, you have the Keiko seal of approval," he said. "She talks about
you a lot. Seems she's been observing us together and I thought she
wasn't quite sure what was going on. I'm going to have to be very careful
what I say around that little information sponge."
"I agree. Children do take things to heart very much. I was always very
discreet in my relationships when Morrie was growing up," Ann said
thoughtfully. "I didn't want him to see men in and out of my life, here
today gone tomorrow. It can be very unsettling for a child."
"Do you feel uncomfortable that I have a child?" he asked. "I know that
sounds like a stupid question since you have a son, but he's grown and
Keiko still has a long way to go. I think I know the answer, but I want
to come out and ask you. I know it's difficult to get to know someone and
a child as well. Children seem to hold a lot of the cards in these
things."
"The straight answer is no,
said with prompt frankness.
more." She paused, "I think
hope you'll understand what
it doesn't bother me in the slightest," Ann
"In fact, it's a good thing...and there's
we can both appreciate honesty here, so I
I'm going to say next."
"I'm sure I will, Ann," Alexi said. "Something to do with children?"
Ann nodded, "The fact that Keiko is adopted does make it easier. If she
were your own child by another woman, ex partner or wife, then it might
be more difficult for her - and us. Children do tend to see a missing
parent as someone they want back - want their parents back together, I
mean. That sometimes causes stress and obstacles. Since that's not the
case in this situation, then I'm hoping that Keiko can judge me without
comparison. Easier for her, and easier for us. If you see what I mean?"
"Yes, I understand. It's probably why I do so well with her. She doesn't
remember anything about her parents. I have the feeling she may have been
stolen when she was a baby. I've tried to find out more, but just meet
dead ends."
"And there's another factor," Ann gave a shy grin. "Although I'm only in
my early forties, and have probably another five or six childbearing
years left, it's not something I have any plans to go for. To put it
bluntly, I don't want any more children - I don't want to go through
pregnancy again. Despite how the novelists sometimes romanticise it, it's
not a barrel of laughs. It's uncomfortable and draining, and giving birth
is bloody brutal. I say this honestly, and please don't misunderstand me,
if I had to go through it all again to get a wonderful son like Morrie, I
would in a heartbeat. But I've done my bit for reproduction and I want to
enjoy life now!"
"One was enough?" he asked. "You wouldn't have been tempted for a second
time?"
"Oh, if we'd had time after Morrie was born then yes, I'd have had
another child back then quite happily. I always thought two would be
nice, and since I already had the son I'd always wanted, I wouldn't have
minded either way if I'd had a boy or a girl. But our jobs, and then...
then my husband dying so young, meant that it simply didn't happen. So I
think that families are wonderful, if the timing is right."
"We don't always have things go smoothly in the universe, that's for
certain," he replied.
"So what I'm saying here, is that your situation is perfect, and the fact
that you have a child is a bonus, not a hurdle," Ann smiled.
Alexi smiled. "You know, Ann, I never thought of myself as a father. I
didn't think I had the patience or the time. I liked the single life married to the service, free to go where they send me without having to
move a family and free to move without leaving a family to worry about
me. In the back of my thoughts, I admit I've wanted a son of my own, a
daughter to protect. However, the crucial ingredient - a woman I wanted
to spend my life with - didn't come along. Now, I've found family is very
important. I wouldn't mind another child with that longed-for wife at my
side. It wouldn't, however, have to be my natural child. There are so
many children like Keiko in the world. Well, I'm sure you understand
that. Besides, that kind of thing would have to be determined with my
partner. What do you think of adoption, Ann?"
"I think it's wonderful, and more people should do it," she assured him.
"So many children, just wanting to know a loving hug and a kind word, so
much love to give. It's heartbreaking to think of the ones that get left
behind, that no-one can find a home for, even in this day and age."
She smiled, "Children give so much, and ask for so little, really. There
is no greater pleasure than telling you child how much they are loved,
how smart they are, or funny, or wonderful, and to see the look on their
faces when they know that you think they're special. Making a child feel
confident and happy and cherished is the greatest feeling in the world."
She looked up, "But then again, giving a child security is so important
too. If I was younger, I might adopt myself, but not now - just so
there's never any misunderstanding. Absent parents are not a good thing.
If I couldn't be with a child as they were growing up, then I wouldn't be
a very good mother. And a border patrol ship is no place for a child,
that much is for certain. I've been lucky with Morrie, and this present
situation is just perfect. You're doing the right thing to keep Keiko
close by you - she'll appreciate it so much when she's older, and you'll
have such a wonderful bond."
Alexi listened and thought how nice it would be to be able to hold her
and kiss her. How pleasant to sit and watch a movie with her, to talk to
her in person.
"I miss you, Ann," he said again. "More than I can tell you."
"I miss you too, dear Alexi," she smiled fondly at him. "But it won't be
for too much longer. The captain says it'll be about three weeks and the
Enforcer will be back. So long as there aren't any emergencies on the
way, of course. And you can always call again - only preferably when I'm
off-duty, as I don't think the captain will be so understanding *every*
time," she chuckled.
"I'll be more careful and less anxious," he said. "I should have checked
the shifts. However, my excuse is Keiko is not at my elbow and I could
talk to you alone. Perhaps I'll send the captain flowers. Is she the type
to be swayed by flowers?"
Ann laughed, "The last time she was swayed by flowers, she received an
entire roomful of daffodils. But unless the sender is Welsh, then I doubt
she'd be impressed at all by anything even more elaborate. So no, really
not recommended. She appreciates respect, punctuality, and a war-cry that
can freeze the blood of a Klingon from a mile away. Maybe you ought to
work on the latter," she winked.
"How about you, Ann? Flowers?" he grinned.
"That's sweet of you, but I'm not much for elaborate displays. To my
mind, a single beautiful bloom given with affection is far more precious
than a big bouquet. I did warn you I was an individually-minded madam."
She quickly checked the time. "I'd better be off, much as I hate to say
goodbye for now. I've got a department heads meeting scheduled later. And
it's no good you asking the captain to excuse me," she wagged a finger at
him.
"I'll be good. I'd better be going now before the communication officers
reminds me she only allotted me so much time and I've already gone over
it. You be very careful, Ann, or I'll call out the marines."
She gave a merry peal of laughter, "I think you would mortally offend our
security chief if you implied he wasn't up to a bit of dash and rescue.
You just take care of yourself likewise, on that crazy station anything
can happen - and usually does!"
"I'll call again in a few days," he said. "I'll be dreaming of you."
Hearing that phrase, a quick flicker of unease crossed her face, gone in
an instant before he could notice. The dreams she'd had when they first
left BoB had faded now, and much as she enjoyed meeting Alexi in dreams,
she didn't want them to start up again. Not after the effect it had on
her attention to duty. "I hope all your dreams are pleasant ones.
Goodbye, dear Alexi. I'll speak to you again soon."
She closed the comm and sat back with a smile lightening her face. Dreams
were all well and good, but it was far more pleasant to enjoy real
conversation. With a reluctant sigh, she began to prepare for her
meeting.
He watched her image fade. Odd how she'd slipped right into his life and
into what he hoped would become a permanent berth. It all seemed to
right. He'd been wrong before, but somehow this time he didn't think he
was.
He went looking for a cold beer.
=^= BoB - Promenade =^=
The large Klingon was looking quizzically at the large announcement
board. One of his eyes narrowed as he attempted to make some sense out of
the direction-finder. K'Ral, Jyan Chera's navigator and partner, found
humans confusing and he found their directions even more confusing. He'd
have to find someone he could ask.
He turned, this mountain of a man, and almost walked into a woman
officer. She looked familiar. Yes, the commander of this place. He'd had
no contact with her, but Jyan had her image on the control panel of the
Mulder. K'Ral found it unnerving. Her eyes seemed to follow him
everywhere.
"Excuse me, Captain," he said, taking a step back for he'd almost trod on
her toes. He opened up his large hand and displayed the small gadget he
was holding. "Can you tell me where I might find someone who can fix this
old compass?"
Mulder knew who he was, having seen him with the pestiferous Chera, but
forebore to judge him on the merits of the company he kept. "A compass?"
she looked at it. "It looks more like an antique to me."
"It is very old," he said. "From Earth, I believe."
"Quite possibly," she studied it. "Good craftsmanship, at any rate. " She
then looked back at him, "You work with Mister Chera, yes?"
"I am K'Ral," he said. He held out his free hand to shake hers wondering
if that was her custom. Confused by that kind of thing as well.
"Ah," she shook the hand, being comfortable with Terran greeting styles
all her life. "Is that your only name? Jaz'Aarians prefer to use a title
and/or a Second Name. But if you only have one name, then that will be
acceptable."
K'Ral actually smiled and it was a warm smile at that. "I go by K'Ral,"
he said. "The rest of it is Tai K'YaRT'ash. The last being my family
name.Tai is my status. You may use whichever you wish, Captain. I use
K'Ral as it is easier for those I meet. You do not strike me as a person
who chooses the easy path."
"Heh, anything I ever did worth doing I caught Hell for," Mulder smirked.
"As it happens, it is perfectly proper for me to call you K'Ral, as it
falls into the category of 'nickname'. Since Jaz'Aarians do not have
'nicknames', and since they are not official Given names, there is no
impropriety in using them."
She smiled, "But I digress. You were asking about your compass?"
"This compass," he said, "has been in my hands for some time. I have been
meaning to find someone to repair it, but it will take an expert. Can you
recommend someone here who knows antiques?"
She shot him a quick look, "As a matter of fact, I can suggest someone
that might help. But be aware...our traders are in the main very honest
people. If they know who you are, they might enquire closely about its
provenance.."
He knew, or thought he knew, her opinion of Jyan, but that wasn't what
caused him to explain. "This was given to one of my family long ago by a
human captain. It has been greatly treasured over the years and was given
to me when I left home. A gift I value greatly."
Mulder inclined her head, "I believe you. I also believe I would know if
you were lying. So that is settled. The repair person I would recommend
is Mister Lynch. He owns a property called The Magic Box on the lower
promenade - he invents and tinkers and is very experienced with all kinds
of unusual machinery. He'd certainly take a look at it for you."
At that moment Shazza wandered by. "Ready to order, Captain?"
"I delay your lunch no doubt," K'Ral said. "Perhaps you would join me?
Human food also confuses me. It does not move."
Mulder raised an eyebrow, "Thankfully, no it does not."
"An odd way to eat," he said.
"Odd is relative." Mulder decided she was hungry enough to tolerate
company, and a person - even a Klingon - who appreciated fine antiques
couldn't be all that bad. "I'm going to order. You're welcome to join
me?"
They were soon seated at Pigs.
"You do not like my partner very much, do you, Captain?" K'Ral asked as
he read the menu.
"I do not."
"May I ask why?" he said.
"He is a scoundrel, but not the type of scoundrel I appreciate," she said
frankly. "He is not honest, but only dishonest for his personal gain. I
have known... people.. be dishonest for the greater good. I've even
stepped well over the line myself in the past - to protect my crew, or
other people I care about. But never for profit or personal gain."
"He does not possess your high standards," K'Ral said. He ordered an
entire cherry pie with ice cream and a cup of the strongest coffee they
had. "If I am lucky, the fruit will roll on the plate and remind me of
home."
"I thought it was called Qu'onos, not Planet Cherry Jiggle," Mulder said
whimsically. "But anyway, you asked about your associate, and I
answered." She studied the menu and made her choice.
Klingons really didn't care what anyone thought of them, but K'Ral asked
anyway. "And what of me?" he stated. "I fly with him, so do I fall under
the same umbrella?"
"Yes and no. I think you must be a bit mad to hang out with a jerk like
that, but possibly not entirely bad in yourself, because I don't know you
personally. But certainly, I question your taste in friends," she said
with cheerful frankness.
"Captain, you are a wonder," he said. "Few would tell a Klingon to his
face what they thought be it good or bad. You are a warrior yourself."
"More by accident than design, but yes. I've killed in the heat of battle
more times than I can count - or want to remember."
He nodded with approval.
"And that's another reason I dislike Mister Chera. I just can't imagine
him doing anything noble or selfless, or risk his own life for a cause or
a person. Unless it brought him a large pile of cash. He seems to me the
sort of person who'd sell his own grandmother for an antique clock and a
stash of French porn."
K'Ral did not defend Jyan. There were perhaps reasons he was as he was,
but it was not for him to say. Even as his partner for a year now, K'Ral
knew little about him and his past. He did not ask. That was not the
Klingon way either.
"He has renamed the ship after you," K'Ral said, finding it amusing.
"There is even a picture of you on the bridge. That is how I knew who you
were. You watch me work."
"I heard," she frowned slightly, "I do not approve, but I do not care
enough to make an issue of it."
"Are your people warriors?" he asked her as their food arrived. "I have
not heard of them, but for Klingons there are Klingons and no one else,
you understand?"
"We're the same, basically. Except no, we're not warriors - not at all.
We have a lovely corner of the universe and we aren't interested in
sharing it. We don't bother to go out and conquer other worlds or poke
our noses into other people's lives if we can help it. But not being
warriors doesn't mean we're unprepared." Her voice took on a steely ring.
"Being prepared is being a warrior," K'Ral said.
Mulder nodded in agreement. "We have the best defensive-offensive arsenal
in our part of the universe. Our star navy and our weaponry are advanced
beyond anything Starfleet or any comparable fleet can imagine. We let
people know what we've got, and we let them know that if they ever try
and fek around with us, they'll find out first hand how devastating it
can be."
K'Ral smiled again. Something he didn't do very often. "I was correct,"
he said. "You are warriors, but you do not lead the lifestyle until
necessary. Some races to not enjoy the glory and danger like my people
do. Others are hidden warriors. They are the ones you must watch as they
come out of the blue. My people have learned that. Those who are not open
warriors can be just as deadly."
"Exactly," Mulder was surprised at how similar their opinions ran. "Apart
from that, we leave other people alone and expect them to leave us alone.
Some people say we're arrogant. They would be correct. But we're also
quite a happy people - surprisingly to some."
"I will remember not to attack your people," he said solemnly.
K'Ral actually used a fork and didn't even reach for his weapon to heat
the pie more. He'd done that the last time and everyone had run out
screaming.
"Is the pie good?" she switched to normal topics.
"It is good," he said. "What food do you eat here that you like? I will
try it next time."
Mulder gave a quiet chuckle, "You ought to try the Dharma Chicken Karma.
It's quite an experience."
He moved the compass over a bit to avoid cherry juice on it.
Mulder followed his movement and looked again at the item. "I'm
interested in your compass, you mentioned that it came to your family
many years ago. Is there an interesting story there?"
"Perhaps," he said. "It was during the time when the humans and the
Klingons battled for that area of space that separates our empires. Many
from both sides were colonizing the habitable planets, some close
together. Sometimes they wanted the same one and there was little trust
or happiness when that happened. But you know your history, I am sure. My
ancestor was involved in a battle with an Earth vessel when a different
warship entered our space. It fired on both the Klingon and Earth vessel
and then concentrated on the humans. It was a blessing as my ancestor had
just lost his shields. However, this new enemy was not known to him. They
had disabled the Earth ship and were moving in for the kill, when my
ancestor opened fire. It is a family story that he could never explain
why he helped the humans. After much battle, the enemy moved away. They
had not communicated a word and still to this day the markings of the
ship have never been seen again by us."
He paused and ate his last bite of pie. "They were both listing badly in
space. My ancestor and the human captain decided to talk. They berated
each other and then worked together to repair their ships enough to reach
their first safe port. Without that cooperation, they would not have made
it. During that time, the captains learned to respect each other and
exchanged gifts at their parting - my ancestor gave a family blade of
honor; the Earth captain gave the compass. It had been on an ancient ship
one of his ancestors had sailed on Earth's seas. It was a great honor."
"I do not know how the human captain fared when he got home, but my
ancestor did not reveal his shame of working with the enemy to anyone but
his family. But there was no shame there, was there Captain? Warriors do
not always have to kill to win. Some day perhaps that man's descendent
will not kill me because of the memory of that event or perhaps a child
of mine will work with a human to cure some disease that afflicts us all.
Sometimes when the blade is held back, good comes of it. Other times
there is no choice, but to kill just to kill is not good."
"K'Ral, you surprise me," Mulder gave a genuine smile. "For one thing, I
didn't believe that a Klingon could hold such..independent points of
view. And for another, I find myself in agreement with your thoughts."
She picked up her drink and took a sip, "Being half human, I do have a
great fondness for the species. I have worked many times with a...human
of my acquaintance. He's saved my life - and I've saved his sorry ass
more times than we both can remember. There *is* a time and a place for
meetings of kindred spirits, and sometimes even opposites are stronger
together than apart. Yes, indeed, I believe I understand exactly what you
are saying."
His dark brown eyes looked into hers. "May we talk again, Captain?" he
asked. "I have not met anyone so interesting in many planets."
"Thank you for the compliment. I must admit, this place is a constant
round of surprises, especially like-minded people where I least expect
them," she tilted her glass towards his in acknowledgement of their
mutual respect. "I should be happy to talk more with you, when time
allows."
She took a drink, "Your path must have been a long one, to end up here,
in such a job as you have. I'm sure it can't be the normal way of things
for a Klingon?"
"I enjoy wandering," he said. "I served in the Klingon navy, with honor,
but I did not want to take the path my family planned for me. It did not
involve the service of war. I left my home then to find my own way. When
I decide to return, if I do, I will have much to make up for. How is it
you came to be here, so far from home, Captain?"
"Ohhh, that's a long, long story," she chuckled. "But it's not a state
secret or anything. If you're genuinely interested in collecting tales of
strange twists and turns, I'd be happy to fill you in. Right now, I ought
to be getting back to work, but maybe we could catch up some other time
for a drink and a chat?"
"That would be of much interest," K'Ral said, standing up as she did. "I
shall communicate with you as to your schedule soon."
"Please do," she gave a little smile and moved away. How odd that the
obnoxious Chera should have an assistant that was interesting and
agreeable to talk to. Although...she knew deep down that there might not
be chance to talk again, if she took up the Verolians offer.
But that would be for the future. Still part of her wanted to stay, and
yet everyu time she thought she might decline, it seemed her brain was
flushed with memories of her dreams, urging her to leave. It was a pity
she couldn't talk to Vaughan about it. Of all people, his opinion
mattered most to her. But Dareem had advised not to - and she had seen
for herself his attitude when they'd spoken the other day.
In pursuit of happiness, some things - and people - would have to be left
behind. She needed to commune with the Verolians again. It was the only
way to find peace of mind.
She gave K'Ral one last smile as she hurried off.
He watched her leave. The humor of the situation did not escape him. Jyan
Chera would be furious. K'Ral found Captain Mulder to be very pleasant,
not the monster Jyan painted when he talked of her. Some people had no
taste. He feared Jyan Chera was one of them.
He paid for the food and went to have his compass evaluated.
=^= BoB - Infirmary =^=
Vivianne was going over reports in the doctor office, she knew he
wouldn't be in there anyway since he was probably to busy with the
bodies. She even left one PADD concerning the shop he was about to open,
it's was almost ready to open and he had little to do with it.
She was still going over in her mind what could affect the senior staff
so badly, in all the time she was on BoB they had issues, problems and
obstacles but rarely the senior staff seem so soft and unorganized. She
sign the last one and was now ready to leave the infirmary to get change
and meet the other gals for their mission.
As she got out the door she felt really bad about going behind everyone
back to get at the bottom of the problem. Especially the doctor who had
shown her alot and gave her the opportunity to get more experience, even
if at this point she was doing everything.
She started walking towards her quarter and decided to get some practice
by trying to follow some random people without them noticing the fact
that they was follow. she was turning corners quickly and keeping herself
low key. After a while she realize that the game was childish and that
she was less then good at the evasion act.
As she enter her quarter, she didn't lose any time to get change and eat,
the night might be long and she wanted to be able to keep up. She didn't
know Lupha and Gigi that much, well the reality is that she didn't know
them at all. Lupha was seen having a few visit with the doctor but then
again every women visited the doctor quarter. Gigi was a total mystery ,
she seem fun and straight forward, she should have any problem getting
along with them.
She look at the time and decided it was time to leave, as she walk toward
the promenade, she kept turning her head making sure she wasn't followed.
Hopefully they would have some answers of the behavior of the captain.
* * * * *
Lupha had taken a quick meal in her quarters, and now dressed in casual
civilian clothing, ready for their escapade. The more she thought about
it, the more uncertain she became. Following the Captain? It seemed
completely disloyal. But then again, they weren't imagining the odd
atmosphere that was creeping through the very fibre of the station.
At best, they might find a perfectly reasonable explanation. She
remembered the time over a year ago when that top secret peace conference
had taken place on BoB. They'd had to keep that quiet from not only the
civilians but also those awful Starfleet Inspectors. Maybe there was
something similar happening on BoB right now - something so sensitive
that even the junior ranks couldn't be told.
With that idea to consider, she felt better about things. Sure, they
mustn't tell anyone what they found out, but at least things would be
okay.
Slipping out of her quarters, she made her way to Ristorante Caruso to
met up with the others.
* * * * *
Gigi was also making preparations. After her shift finished, she'd not
checked in her phaser to the armoury like she should have done.
Not that Baxter or Vega were going to notice, since they hardly took any
interest in what was going on these days. She dressed quickly in jeans,
running shoes and a dark top, tucking her phaser out of sight into her
waistband. Her own thoughts were running similar to Lupha's - maybe there
was something so secret happening that they couldn't know about it. But
her thoughts were more directed - she had a feeling it must be something
to do with the alien ship. Things had only started getting weird *after*
it had arrived.
So, maybe the ship was more than they were letting on. Perhaps they were
indeed in communication with the occupants and trying to help them in
some way. It was a very flimsy explanation but it was the best she could
come up with. She, too, make her way quickly to the meeting place.
-= Lower promenade - Ristorante Caruso =Lupha arrived first and ordered a coffee. There was no point in going out
thirsty, and she needed something to occupy herself while she was
waiting.
Gigi arrived a few minutes later, and nodded to Lupha as if it was a
casual meeting, also ordering a coffee as she sat down at the same table.
Vivianne was the last to arrive, as she saw them taking coffee she
regretted taking so many during the day and choose water instead as she
sat with them. "Do we know where she is?" she ask a bit nervously.
"No idea," Lupha took a sip of her coffee.
"She usually walks her dog after shift," Gigi put in. "At least, she
always used to. Maybe that doesn't happen any more. I hear Sherlock
spends most of his time in the arboretum these days."
Lupha looked sad and shook her head, "I think...maybe there *is* more
going on here than meets the eye. I tried to tell myself it was something
like a secret mission, but the Captain wouldn't abandon her dog, just for
some business on the station."
"I wish I'd spoken to Il Hombre," Gigi said pensively. "But it's too late
now. We have to try and see what we see." "We need to know where she is
first...did we check her office, maybe finishing reports? I think this
situation is more urgent then I initialy led to believe" As Vivienne took
a sip of water.
"Come on," Gigi stood up deciseively. "Lets go do this thing."
"Yeah," Lupha took a deep breath and stood up likewise.
"Alrigth then.." she look around and followed the two others.
* * * * * *
Mulder had wandered out of her office after the promenade had closed
down, and walked almost at random, deep in thought. Yes, she needed to
visit the Verolians, to calm her thoughts and show the way more clearly.
Almost on autopilot she took the turbolift to the docking level, and
walked past the security crewers on duty. They knew that senior officers
had access, and nodded politely as she passed.
As she disappeared into the ship, Jetta Pascoe shook her head, "Still no
nearer the solutioon. I wonder what they do in there?"
Barry Trotter shrugged, "Ours not to reason why," he said stoically.
* * * * * *
After half an hour wandering aimlessly - and finding no trace of the
Captain, Gigiu said quietly, "I'm going to make a call. Something..
bothering me.. about that ship. Hang on." She tapped her commbadge and
spoke to jetta, who she knew had pulled late shift that day. "Hey amigo.
Long shot, you seen El Capitan tonight?"
"Eh? Yeah, sure I have.." Jetta looked puzzled. "She went onto the ship a
few minutes ago."
"Right. Thanks," Gigi looked at her two co-conspirators. "Let's go. I
think we need to get onto the alien ship."
"Can we actually do that? How much trouble are we in if we get caught?"
she seem not so sure anymore.
"Of course we can," Lupha looked at Vivienne. "Gigi here can get us past
- can't you?" she turned to the security officer.
"Yeah, I reckon. I know the guys on duty right now. I'm sure we can,"
Gigi said with a determined note in her voice. "We can try, at least."
She set off with the others, and a few minutes later they were
approaching the guard post. "Jetta, I've got to ask a favour," Gigi said
urgently.
"Sure..I think.." Jetta looked dubiously at the three of them. 'What
d'you want?"
"We need to get on that ship," Gigi said. "We need to see.. what's going
on."
Jetta and Trotter exchanged looks. "This something to do with what we
were talking about a few days ago?" jetta asked cautiously.
"Yes. Yes, I'm afraid I think it is. I hope I'm wrong. Maybe I will be
wrong and that'll be that. I'll take full responsibility, okay?"
"Okay," Jetta said firmly. "Come on, Trotter, we need to stroll up the
corridor a bit," she walked away, a puzzled Trotter following her.
"wow, your have alot of influence" ivianne said with admiration as she
quickly made her way inside.
"They're friends," Her hand loosely on her phaser, Gigi jerked her head
towards the docking ring, "Ready?"
"Lets do this," Lupha said nervously.
* * * * *
Inside, Mulder was standing, asleep on her feet. She was enjoying a
relaxing, lovely dream, and wasn't at all surprised when Dareem appeared.
"I was hoping you'd show up," she smiled. "I have some questions for
you."
"Ask away, captain. Anything to help your decision, I - " he broke off,
and sighed. "I fear we might not be alone."
* * * * *
Gigi stopped suddenly and held up a hand. They'd only just stepped inside
the alien ship, and she didn't really know what direction to go in next.
"Something's wrong," she murmured.
"wrong, what do you mean wrong?" as she started to look everywhere.
"What d'you think it iss?" Lupha looked back over her shoulder.
"A forcefield," Gigi said uncertainly.
"I can't see anything," Lupha stared ahead.
"That's the point of a forcefuiled," Gigi rolled her eyes. "I'm trained
in this sort of thing, remember? There's just..something..." she
cautiously stretched out a hand, and flinched as sparks shot through her
fingertips.
"Can we leave?" Vivienne was more and more looking at the exit.
"Oh yeah, definately a forcefield," Lupha muttered.
"I don't know what to do next," Gigi sighed. "I *could* try and break it
down, but...then the Captain and anyone else here would notice, and we'd
be caught. I don't think we can take that risk."
"Maybe if we just wait here, see what we can see?" Lupha suggested
ineffectually.
"I've got a better idea," Gigi said. "I think we should leave, and leave
now. This place is just plain creepy."
"I agree, it like the ship doesn't want us here or someone else..."
Vivienne said almost as a question.
"At the very least, we can hang out with the security guards, and see how
long she's in there, or if she brings anything out," Lupha suggested.
"Yes, but let's make it subtle so she doesn't think we're following her
around" Vivienne answered.
Gigi sent a last look into the ship's interior, then led the way back out
quickly, giving Jetta and Trotter a quick wave. "It's okay, false alarm<'
she said with forced cheerfulness.
Jetta looked as if she was going to ask, but didn't. She shook her head
and returned to their thankless duty.
* * * * *
"Have they gone?" Mulder wanted to know. "Who was it?"
"People that don't understand," was dareem's gentle reply. "Don't worry,
they lost interest."
"Okay..." Mulder sighed. "I'm.. distracted now. My mind isn't as easy as
it was when I came in here," she wondered who had dared to try and
interrupt her.
"Leave now, rest, and dream. Come back later," Dareem urged her. "All
will be clear then."
Mulder nodded, then turned and walked out slowly, almost sleepwalking.
She didn't even acknowledge the security crew as she passed by.
* * * * *
Further up the corridor, Gigi made a swift motion with her hand, "Here
she comes," she whispered.
"What do we do?" Lupha knew she definately wasn't cut out for this kind
of work.
"Let's speak to her," Gigi said in a moment of inspiration.
"speak to her? why would we do that?" she ask confuse about the plan
"Why not?" Gigi shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that. She's the
captain, we're her crew, walking along a corridor. It's perfectly
natural."
Lupha thought that *nothing* was natural any more, but nevertheless
nodded. "You do it then."
"By me you meant Gigi, rigth?" taking a step back.
Mulder approached, her eyes gl;azed and her mind a million light years
away. Already a new dream was forming and she put one foot after the
other on instinct.
"Good evening, Captain," Gigi said as she walked by.
Mulder's eyes flickered but the dream was taking hold and she barely
registered the voice.
Gigi took a step after her, nudging Lupha hard. "Erm.. hello captain. How
are you?" Lupha's voice came out as a squeak.
Mulder's head almost turned, but now the dreamland state was gripping her
and she didn't want to speak with reality, so she kept on walking.
"Vivianne seeing the result came forward and raise her voice " Captain I
need to discuss a emergency with you"
But Mulder carried on walking, slowly, one foot after the other, until
she turned the corner out of sight.
Gigi slumped back against the wall, "What the *hell* was that all about?
Did you see her face? She was like a zombie, in a trance...Is she ill?"
She looked to Vivienne for advice.
"The problem is not physical, but she seem in another world just like the
doctor the last time I spoke well saw him..."
"This is too weird," Lupha twisted her hands together. "Maybe we ought to
call it off? Go back and have a drink somewhere?"
"No, maybe not," Gigi said with determination. "How about we wait here,
and see if anyone else comes by, huh?
"Sure, not like I have to do anything else... " Vivienne looked at Lupha.
"Might as well, I suppose," Lupha agreed reluctantly. "But if no-one else
comes by in the next hour, we call it a night, okay?"
"One hour, Gigi agreed. "Now, let's find somewhere comfortable to sit.
There's a bench along here..."
* * * * * Mulder reached her quarters, and wandered over to her bedroom,
laying down still in a daze. Who had tried to get onto the ship? She
needed to increase security now. No-one must interfere with this lifechanging situation.
Tomorrow. She'd sort it out tomorrow. But now, she would dream.
=^= Infirmary =^=
The doctor was slowly waking up from another amazing dream but keep
waking up. He had run test on him before and after each test and anyone
smart enough to get in when he was sound asleep could read his journal.
Nobody would defy him openly and come in the room when instructed
otherwise. He was still debating the deal the Veronians made him. Was he
to live asleep in that paradise for years to come or be stuck in this
station in the middle of nowhere. Here he could fail and failing was part
of reality. Here he would never taste the sweet lips of his love, but was
she really like that? Did it matter?
So many questions so many answers so much debate. He felt like a kid that
had to choose between two ice cream savour and had his parent behind him
pushing to choose quickly. What was the effect, they answer all his
questions perfectly but never quite talk about the long term care and
side effect of the dreams. He was debating between dream children and
true children, everything was so perfect.
"ahhhhhhh!" as he pull his hair. What was he suppose to do? They said not
to speak to anyone but the pressure was to strong. How could he take a
decision without considering his love ones, the real ones. Would his
parent ever die in his dream? Probably but the sense of accomplishment
would be stronger than the pain of losing his father and mother. That was
unreal, for a brief second he wanted to feel pain, he was here because of
it...was that a good thing. Being on BoB? I mean it's not like he was
transfer on the leading facility or ship he was put in the corner on BoB
with someone he love and couldn't have. Was that what he wanted, to be
deceived, to be sad, to be limited, a no name.
He needed to walk for once he got out of the room and left the infirmary
as everyone look at him, strangely Vivianne was there. He went on the
promenade, already he miss the dream, the love and his family....
=/\= USS Caledonia - Transporter Room =/\=
Jinti bounded into the room, giving Dennis Erendin a cheery wave. She was
wearing her usually civilian kit, and looking forward to the adventure
ahead. If she'd understood Chess right, then she was to be the 'muscle'
of the party, which suited her just fine.
"I ain't been in a ruck fer ages," she grinned. "Hope I get ta punch
someone. It'll be kinda cool."
Dennis just raised an eyebrow and gave a quiet chuckle.
Mike came in dress in black from boots to the hat. He had put all the
equipment he needed in pouches and other compartment making sure the
American knuckles were well hidden.
Zerin turned around. Sure enough, Carsin was trailing right behind her.
He was wearing one of two civilian outfits he owned--jeans, a t-shirt,
and a denim jacket with the Jack Daniel's logo on the back. Zerin didn't
want to ask where he got that ensemble. She was just glad that he had all
the equipment they'd need for this mission. She herself wore stretch
pants and a long-sleeved tunic.
"The Naked Vedek is setting in very nicely, just so you know," Carsin
said.
Chess was the last to arrive, and she came bearing gifts. "Good evening.
Thank you all for being on time. I decided we should be armed going down
there. Please take a phaser each," she placed the weans on top of the
transporter console.
"We get ta shoot as well?" Jinti beamed. "It gets better an' better."
"I hope we don't need them," Chess said calmly. "But if we find trouble,
then it's pretty obvious we can't expect any conventional treatment. I
suspect we'll be killed outright. So we need to be prepared. "
Mike just nodded at this point, he knew full well he had never shot
anyone in his lifetime. "hopefully not" was the only thing he could say.
"I'm sure they'll be prepared to kill us; still, I think we should set
our phasers no higher than 'open a can of whup ass and knock 'em upside
the head.' What do you think?" Zerin asked?
"Awww you're no fun," Jinti murmured with a grin.
"I think Heavy Stun would be appropriate," Chess decided. "We can't
afford to take any chances."
Chess led the way to the transporter platform and took her place on one
of the Padds. "Lieutenant Zim is minding the ship and monitoring us
whilst we're down there. Lieutenant de Carabas is out and about in town
and standing by in case we need assistance on the ground. I think all
bases are covered. Luckily, we've been up and down quite frequently from
the ship over the last few weeks, so a party of us going out on the town
for the night isn't going to attract any comment. Act relaxed and
casual."
She nodded to Dennis, "Energise."
=/\= Jackson's Whole =/\=
Having made it down to the surface without any bother at all, Chess led
the way out of the warehouse compound and into the town. "I don't want to
go directly to the mansion as I'm sure we can be seen coming. However,
there is some sort of scrubby wasteland behind the house, with plenty of
stunted trees - I think there might have been an orchard there once, when
the ground was still properly irrigated. So we'll take a roundabout way
and come from behind. Then it's just a matter of breaking in
successfully...
"Do we know where in particular will come in, like the bedroom or the
kitchen or are we picking the place with the less amount of attention"
still trying to prep himself to shot with the phaser.
"The less noise and the less time getting in, the better," Zerin advised.
She remembered someone had broken into her family's household by
pretending to be a masseuse. "How about some of us go in there in
disguise?"
Chess considered the suggestion, but shook her head, "As it's so late at
night, I think any diversion might possible wake more people than we
would like. I'd rather we weren;t noticed at all. I have no doubt there
is a lot of suspicion around the town right now."
She then replied to Mike's question, "This comes out around the back.
It's a huge old house, and we should be able to get up to the kitchen
side under cover. We'll try and get in that way, and then once we find
the main hallway I can lead you directly to the chest in the study."
Jinti cracked her knuckles by way of reply.
Mike look at her as he got close " I'm staying close to you, you'll be my
arms" as he grin.
Twenty minutes later, after circumventing various rowdy bars with noise
and beery shouts coming from inside, they made their way through the
scrubland until they were on the perimeter, where they could see the back
of the mansion a short distance away.
"Commander Fell - I want you to check that there aren't any sensors
between here and the house. Disable anything you find."
Evar Carsin drew his tricorder, which he'd modified to detect sensors.
"I'm not picking up anything," he told them. He swept the tricorder in a
180-degree arc, narrowly missing Zerin's head. "Still nothing.
They emerged outside a large window. From the absolute blackness inside,
it was clear that no-one was up or about. Chess looked to Zerin again,
"Check there's no intruder alarms here."
Zerin's turn. She held up her own tricorder. "Apparently there is nothing
there. Of course, they could have locks up the wazoo, and inside we
should watch for heat sensors."
Mike stop moving and started to look everywhere "I heard footsteps, I
heard footsteps" trying to keep it low voice.
"Down," Chess hissed, as they all sank into the prickly bushes.
"Crap," Jinti muttered as she snagged her arm on a particularly spiky
branch, drawing blood.
RIP. Carsin felt a tear on the sleeve of his tracksuit. Zerin unhooked it
from a thorn.
Mike was now more control he was trying to signal Jinti *are you ok* as
he had a feeling she might had some bruise from the bushes as himself got
a branch at the only place he that was almost impossible to scream.
The two goons that had been on duty when Chess visited the mansion
appeared round the corner. They were chatting and joking together,
swigging from a bottle passed between them - but the size of them both,
not to mention the two heavy-duty disruptors slung from their waists, was
not to be taken lightly.
They didn't appear to notice anything amiss, and wandered back around the
other side of the house without a pause.
Chess allowed a few moments to pass, then cautiously stood up. "I think
we need to move fast," she murmured. "Everyone okay?"
"Cut my arm, Cap'n," Jinti reluctantly spoke. "It ain't too bad but it
sure is bleeding a lot."
"I don't want us to leave a blood trail," Chess said briskly. "Patrowski,
fix it, if you please."
Mike had some problem walking for a few seconds then went to work "Stand
still, this going to sting" since he use a fast and unusual way to fix
the bleeding. A trick he had lean at the medical facility. After a few
seconds only he had stop the bleeding.
"That's better," Jinti flexed her arm. "Now, how we gonna get in there?"
"Either the window is not locked, in which case we're lucky, or it is
locked, in which case we try to pick the lock, or it's not pickable, in
which case we break the window," Chess rattled off the options. "I
suspect this is one of those mansions where someone's usually present and
will notice if you break a window," Zerin replied. "I still wonder if we
could get inside by pretending to be...bill collectors? Salespeople?
Pizza delivery? It might be cleaner. This man hasn't seen Carsin and Me.
And he hasn't seen Lamarr and Mike, has he?"
" Well on some colonies I was the sewer system was big enough to go in it
and every house had some access for maintenance. I don't know if this hub
have similar systems." Said mike trying to give some options.
"While they were talking Chess was extracting some items from her
rucksack. "I don't think we'll have any luck getting inside by just
turning up - it's nearly eleven o'clock, no-one would let any salespeople
in at that hour. And believe me, we'd be watched every step of the way,
besides waking up people we wanted to stay asleep. It's a good idea, but
I don't think it'd work this time." She gave a quick smile in the
darkness, "and if we can't break in here, maybe the sewer system is an
option - but let's give this a try first."
"Whut ya got there, cap'n?" Jinti was intrigued.
"Equipment," Chess said shortly. She produced a large sucker that she
placed on the window, and then a small tool. "Diamond cutter. I cut
around the edge of the sucker like this," she did so. "And the glass is
held in place by the suction," she showed them, "And removed in one
piece." She pulled it away.
"The place is very old and only has traditional locks, so I *should* be
able to slip my hand inside and.... yes, Got it."
There was an audible click, and Chess opened the old-fashioned sash
window. "Quick, inside, get onto the floor. The shrubs will hide this
hole from anyone passing outside."
Mike ran as fast has he could before falling head first in the bush.
"Where are we?" Jinti's voice came from the darkness.
"I'm not sure," Chess admitted. "Come on, let's find out."
The darkness was punctuated by muffled curses as they bumped shins on
various unseen objects.
Jinti rubbed her shin and risked kneeling up wards, and let out a muffled
shriek, "Crapola, whassat??"
"Shhhh!" Chess hissed, and drew out her flashlight. In the thin beam,
they all saw it - the horrific figure of a man covered in molten lead,
dying a terrifying death.
"Ugly thing..." still looking at the figure.
"I've seen it before," Chess whispered. "This is the gallery room, where
Jackson keeps his mementoes. That's the fate of someone that tried to
avoid his pirate ancestors centuries ago, he told me. I can't help but
think he'd probably do the same to us if he caught us."
"Where do we go from here?" Jinti whispered back.
"The study is just across the hall. Quietly now," Chess eased the door
open. "Straight across, and into that room. Fell - check for interior
alarms. We daren't risk getting caught now."
Zerin knelt down. There was an alarm all right--one of those antique
things that went ding-ding-ding. There was a very good way to disable it.
She took out some tools and unscrewed the thing. Meanwhile, Carsin took
out a handkerchief and threw it over the view camera.
"This is a little too easy," Zerin whispered. "This alarm system could be
de-activated by my rabbit."
The door to the study was unlocked, and Chess closed the door after them.
"We can't risk putting the light on, but the chest is over here." She
shone her flashlight briefly. "Lamarr, stay by the door and warn us if we
have company. The rest of you, come with me. We need to break open that
chest without anyone knowing, if we can" She shone the light quickly onto
the floor where the wooden chest lay. "Anyone any good at picking locks?
He did know if he had to say. He would wait to see if Zerin would say
something before venturing forward. "I'm able captain, being a long time
but if have a few minutes I'll try.." taking some picks from a pocket.
"Go ahead, Patrowski," Chess nodded. "Make it as quick as you can."
Mike went to work at first it seem he wouldn't make it but after a bit of
swearing the lock finally open.
"Now, let's see what's in there," Chess risked her flashlight again as
the chest opened smoothly.
Inside, lay a piece of parchment, carefully folded up, and Chess
carefully picked it up and opened it out, shining the light briefly on
it.
"A map," she said, clearly puzzled. "There's the town marked, and
there's..something outside the perimeter." She came to a quick decision,
"Fell, make a recording of this map, I want us to study it back on the
ship."
Zerin had a camera on hand and stepped back a few spaces so she could
capture a finely detailed image of this map. It had the obligatory X's
and dotted lines on it. For a while there, she felt like she was on a
treasure hunt. Maybe they'd find a pot of gold and she could retire from
Starfleet. Uh huh. Right.
CLICK. She looked at the image capture and showed it to Chess. "How does
this look?" she asked.
"Looks fine, we'll have to try and decipher it later," Chess nodded,
"Good work, now we're going to put it back and re-lock the chest. That
way, they won't know we've ever seen it."
"Relock...hummm first time I have to do that.." he smile but after a few
second relock the chess.
From the door, Jinti cleared her throat, "Whut about the hole in the
window?"
"We can't do anything about that. Yes, they'll know someone has been
inside but they'll never be able to prove who. And if they chest is still
locked, they'll never know why. I hope." Chess said briskly as she stood
up. "Now let's get out of here."
On impulse, Zerin pulled out a phaser. Something was still just not
right. She sniffed something. Something familiar.
She tiptoed over to a table and opened it. Inside was a small jar,
labelled MARIE ANTOINETTE AROMATHERAPY OIL--PATCHOULI.
So this guy was a Marie Antoinette Bath and Beauty connoisseur. It could
be a coincidence--right?
"What is it?" Chess's voice came through the gloom.
"Looks like Jackson shops from the same retailer where we almost got
blown up," Zerin whispered. "And he likes patchouli. Phew. Stinky."
"Really? A link, then. Jackson is in this deeper than we thought." Chess
crossed the room and quietly opened the door, "All clear. Back across the
hall, into the display gallery, and wait by the window. So far, so good."
"Piece of cake" Mike couldn't believe this was going so easy.
Like many would-be detectives, Zerin thought it might be a good idea to
look through the trash and hope there was nothing gross there. She shone
a flashlight into a wastebasket. There was a yellow paper bag with the
Marie Antoinette logo. And a receipt. Yup, it was from Marie Antoinette
and it said SPECIAL BULK DISCOUNT PLAN.
Special bulk discount plan. For patchouli aromatherapy oil? She
shuddered. Okay, this guy was a frequent customer. Frequent enough for
them to give him the keys to their warehouse?
Maybe they should investigate this business further.
Jinti went last, following hard on Chess's heels as they closed the door
behind them and disappeared into the gallery to where the other two were
waiting.
Carefully opening the window, Chess listened, but the night air was still
and silent. She pushed the window up higher. "Everyone out."
Mike just jump out hoping he would land on his feet which didn't happen
having his face first in some bush.
Zerin stuffed the receipt into her pocket and slipped out, Carsin
following her.
After Jinti climbed out, Chess clambered after her and closed the window
carefully. Their raid would be discovered soon enough, once someone came
into the study, but they should have at least six or seven hours to get
clear.
"Cap'n, we got company.." Jinti urgently whispered.
"Down, keep down," Chess ordered, as the footsteps of the guard patrol
sounded on the gravel path.
Mike dive to the ground and at the same time close is eye hoping that if
he didn't see the guard, they would see him.
Once the guards had rounded the corner, Chess stood up carefully. "We
can't afford to stay here any longer. Let's move out."
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later they were clear of the thicket and back on the road
leading into town. Only then did Chess relax a little. "I think we made
it. Now all we have to do is get back to the ship, and we can see just
what's so special about that map."
* * * * * *
The Fates were on their side, for once, and they made it back to the ship
without being stopped, and without any alarms being raised.
As they stepped off the transporter pads, Chess gave them a brief,
appreciative smile. "Well done. That was excellent work by all of you.
Now, I want you to get a meal and some rest, and also to brief your
departments on what we've found."
"We gonna look at that map, cap'n?" Jinti was very curious.
"Yes. As soon as everyone has refreshed themselves, we'll meet again and
see if we can work out what it's about. Every instinct I have tells me
it's directly linked to the Resurrection Casket - and for better or worse
my instincts aren't usually wrong..." She gave another brief smile.
"Dismissed."
=^= On way to sickbay =^=
Mike was still thinking about is previous meeting with his two coworker,
he had heard when he came back that the regular medical officer was back
on his feet and was starting to get back to work slowly. That meant he
was probably back to the infirmary on Bob witch he didn't have any news
from. He was hoping that they wouldn't forget about him but also sad to
leave the ship. He was starting to have a home here but no matter, it was
probaly a good thing to meet the regular guy of sickbay.
Wrapped firmly in his bed sheets Zim had shuffled from his quarters along
to Sickbay. On any other ship Zim would probably have been stopped by
various people asking questions as to why he was wrapped up but by now
this had become pretty typically behaviour by him. Considering he'd spent
time working in the medical department he was was not good at actually
dealing with illness.
******************
As Mike cross a ferengi in the corridor he stop "Zim?" he ask as he walk
by.
Zim paused, wrinkled his nose, and then gave a little sneeze before
answering. "Sorry....thats me." He wrapped the quilt around him and took
in the new face. He'd been laid out for some time so wasn't too suprised
by the new face.
"Hi, I'm Mike the one taking care of your sickbay while you were not
feeling too well" he put he's hadn forward and gave him a warm smile.
"Ah! Hello..." Zim quickly rubbed his sweaty palm on himself before
taking Mike's hand. "Thanks for taking care of things. How has sickbay
been? Have the staff been behaving themselves?"
"Sickbay and it staff are fine, they're very nice people to work with"
Hoping to say the rigth things.
Zim snorted snottily, "Don't let Tol and Ingrams here that. It'll get to
their heads."
"Anything I can help you with before I go to other duties, you seem in a
not so good condition" he started to take out his tricorder.
"I'm fine..." Zim shivered slightly, "Just a bit of Ferengi flu. I'll be
over it eventually. I've been resting lots but I'm still not fit to go
back to full duty and..." he sneezed, "Not really ready to work in
sickbay properly. So...if you could carry on with things? I'm just going
to be monitoring things from the bridge."
"Not a problem hopefully you'll be up and running well soon but don't
worry I'll make sure everything is like it was when you left" He put the
tricorder back into his pocket.
Zim flashed a toothy grin before wrapping the sheets tightly around him,
"Thanks, good luck with the away mission."
"Thanks, talk to you later" as he started to walk back toward the
infirmary.
=^= Mike quarter =^=
Mike was almost sleeping in his chair, he was in his quarter, no ducking,
no jumping or other non sees, peaceful time with his chair. He was a
medical officer not really away mission material, he had learn quite alot
for the first time, simply that he was not the best a hiding. He had too
many bruise to count and he tough this had been a quiet mission. He could
only imagine the number of bone he'll hear crack on the next one. He
tough of a shower but then that would mean getting up witch at this point
wasn't a option. He said before leaving he would kick ass he tough it was
fair to say the ass kick him. The captain didn't mention anything to him
so he must had done something right he would still need to be alot better
on the next one. He also had a hard time thinking about killing someone
or even worse being kill.
Would he speak if torture, would he be able to sustain the pain. He was
Russian and they had the reputation to be tough, well he had a plan b,
drugs! He would drug himself solid to a point of unconscious, maybe they
would let him alone or kill him while sleeping into lala land. The pain
brought him back to reality, all the muscles in his body shouting in pain
and him just exhausted. The chime rang, rang again and again, who cared
he was dying slowly. He wanted peace, wanted to be left alone...
The door open as Carol came in "You ok"
"Let me alone to die..." answering in a low voice.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad, at least sit straight" she said annoyed
by the complaint.
he made a effort but the pain was too high "Can't"
She came along and took off his boots, jacket and at that point saw the
bruise "Were you with the group?"
"Yes, what type of question is that?" he ask frustrated.
"Well, your so bruise compare to everybody else, I heard Jinti had a
little scratch but look at you..."
"shuuuu...don't just don't..." annoyed by the comments
she smile "first time?"
"yop" he said trying to get up properly but fail once more.
"you did fine I'm sure" she smile again trying to treat the man.
"It's not necessary, I'll take a shower then I have a meeting..maybe
sleep would be nice" he said finally getting up.
"alrigth, take care, let me know if you need me" she said as she exited.
The thing is he didn't need anyone, he needed his bed...as he felt right
on it.
=^= Quarter =^=
François was furious that he wasn't able to talk to the Veronians on
their ship, he badly wanted even needed to accept the deal. He needed to
be happy, needed to be accepted by those he love. AS he enter he didn't
lose anytime to get into bed. As soon as he shut his eyes he enter his
world of paradise, the world were he was the best. As he open his eyes
again he was on his sailing boat not to far from the vineyard. He could
barely see his pregnant wife and his two children when a voice disturb
him.
"Sorry about what we did but you were followed" said the women again.
"That's ok, just wanted to talk to you" he answer calmly.
"Then talk away" she laugh.
"How will you get my body on the ship?" he started.
"No worries , we'll manage" she answer without having a doubt in her
voice.
"hummm...ok" he said still a bit nervous.
"Don't worry we've done this more time then you can count" she smile
"Ok then, how do I get going, I'm ready to stay here for ever!" he smirk
"Well first you'll need to get ready for the journey" she answer.
"How's that?" he was a bit anxious to get it over with
"Well you'll need to depart from the other world by seeing if other want
to join this worlds" she got up and came closer.
"Here in my dream?" he was confuse.
"No silly, in this type of life"
"ohh, was I not suppose to stay quiet?" turning the wheel of the boat.
"Yes, but now your moving into another steps, this transition is not a
easy one, think of it as a goodbye" she avoided the mast changing side.
"I see, I'll try my best" he started to think of who he could talk too..
"I have to leave now" he again disappear in the sunlight
He wake up a few minutes later. He needed to talk to the captain first
hopefully she would join him. As he left is quarter he had to restrain
himself from running to her office.
=^= Mulder's office -=^=
Baxter yawned and looked at Vega. "Hold me up, girlie girl," he said. "I
need that nap. Do you think Mulder's in? Ring that chime again."
"Stop yawning sir. She'll know what's up." She said as she rung the
chimes.
"Hey boss babe, open up. We've got important matters to attend to here!"
he shouted.
From behind them an amused voice said crisply, "What's all that hammering
on my door?" Mulder appeared at the top of the stairwell. "Can't a CO pop
out for a cup of coffee without the barbarian hordes amassing?"
Baxter looked around and grinned. "Oh, you mean us," he said. "Is there
chocolate in that coffee?"
He looked at her. "If not, then who exactly is the barbarian here,
anyway, Babe Sir?"
"Tcha, Cappuccino is the only civilised drink at this time of day, you
ruffian," she drawled.
Vega smiled. "You're addicted ma'am. Now, we must see you." She
said.Wondering if she was in her right mind. It was 12:00 PM, too early
to need coffee in her opinion. But as a good officer, she kept it to
herself.
"Come along in then," she unlocked her door and led the way inside. "Now,
what's so important?"
Baxter waved his hand in salute and sank into the nearest chair.
"Vega had this idea, Boss Babe," he said. "Thought we should talk to you
It seems we're both getting these weird dreams and some dude wants us to
go away to a dream world with him. Think we're nuts?"
Mulder just blinked in surprise. But then again, Dareem had said there
were others who were also chosen. So this must be the start. "I don't
think you're nuts at all," she said slowly. "What are these dreams like?"
"Thing is," Baxter said. "The dreams are just what we dream of ... you
know, everything we've always wanted and more."
"I know," she nodded and said softly. "I've dreamed also. And I've met a
Verolian. I believe we are the ones they've chosen to offer a chance of a
new life to. And now, we have to decide whether we want to go or not."
It seemed at that moment that the air became softer and more pure, with a
slight shimmering around the eyes of their peripheral vision. It was like
being cocooned in a special, secret place. And everything seemed
absolutely right.
Baxter relaxed suddenly. He really wasn't naturally a person who wanted
to escape from things. It just all seemed so good all of a sudden. He
didn't care as long as Yus and the tamars were along for the ride.
"Do you suppose they take tamars?" he asked.
"I don't see why not," Mulder said softly. "I think they might, yes. We'd
have to ask them."
He breathed deeply. "Are you going to say yes, Babe Sir?"
She nodded slowly, feeling completely at peace in the moment. "I think I
will. After all, don't we deserve some happiness, all of us, after
everything we've been through, all our lives? They're offering us a gift
beyond words. I think we ought to take it."
Vega closed her eyes. Inside she saw everything, everything that she
wanted and nothing she didn't. But her thoughts were thinking something
different. She felt a small piece tell her not to do so. That BoB was
better than the aliens. But she couldn't help it. "I think I'll take it
as well."
Baxter still wasn't exactly sold either, but the dream world was without
pain and disappointment. He'd had plenty of that. That was life. "I'm
in," he said, "as long as tamars and wife come too."
"I think we need to speak with the Verolians, and ask them what we must
do next," Mulder said, almost as if being prompted by some unseen guide.
"And we must find out who else will be making this journey with us."
"Means we go to their ship?" Baxter asked. "I have security clearance. We
can use our ship, Captain."
"Use my ship?" Mulder looked puzzled. "No, we can just walk onto their
ship, any time we like. But first we need to go there and converse with
them."
"But then people would see us," Baxter muttered, but added. "Vega, no
shooting, okay?" Baxter said grinning at her.
She smiled. "Only if we get what we want.:"
"Let's go ladies," he said. "I want to hear more."
Mulder led the way along to the docking level, and nodded to the security
crewers on duty as the three of them strolled past.
Once inside, the atmosphere became laden with anticipation as they stood
looking at the six remaining bodies at their peaceful rests.
"We have come to discuss our decision," Mulder said quietly and clearly,
and looked at the other two for them to add their request.
"I'm in," Baxter said.
"Better now than never. I'm ready." Vega looked at the empty room and
silent went through her decision.
The figure of Dareen shimmered into existence. "I am so happy you have
decided to join us. I promise you will not regret this, you have nothing
but bliss and joy to look forward to."
"So what, exactly, do we have to do?" Mulder asked.
Dareem smiled, "You must co-ordinate, my dear captain. You three are the
first to make this decision, but there will be others, I hope. Now is the
time to contact them, find them - kindred souls will speak to each other.
When all are assembled here, we shall give you final instructions as to
how to make this journey with us."
"Can't you just tell us who we're looking for?" Baxter asked. "Or at
least how many?"
Dareem shook his head slowly and smiled at them, "It's not that simple,
my friends. For some this is a very very personal experience. They need
to become comfortable in themselves before they speak of it to others.
For example, how long have you all been dreaming, and how long has it
taken you to confide in each other about your experiences?"
"Yeah, I see your point," Mulder nodded. "I didn't say anything to anyone
at all for weeks, mainly because.. well, you know..."
"It seems to feel like such a private thing," Baxter muttered.
"Yea. It's not really good thinking to tell people you've been blowing
them off for the wonderful alien dreams."
"So....." Dareem nodded at them, "Be careful, and be tactful. You will
probably know by now deep within yourselves. But do not try to persuade
those who do not wish to join us. We only want your happiness, but you
have to *want* that happiness, you see?"
*Does any of us really want this happiness?* Said the little bird in the
back of Vega's mind.
Dareem held out his arms to them, "Only the willing should come. If it
bothers you, stay behind. Your ordinary lives are yours to live."
"Ordinary is no fun," Mulder said firmly.
"But I'm not ordinary," Baxter said under his breath. "Not in the least."
More loudly, he continued, "We'll see who we can find,"
"Of course sir." She looked around, "I mean, all we have to do is find
the person that is sleepy."
"Then go, seek out your fellow travellers, and bring them here. Together,
we will give you the final instructions, and then, everything you ever
dreamed of will be yours. But time grows short now. Once we leave we
shall never be able to offer this again. So be careful, but be swift," he
faded from view.
"Okay," Baxter said. "We'll do some checking, but I still want to know
more. I can wait a bit, I guess."
"As can I." Said Vega.
"Then let's go, and find the others," Mulder gave a peaceful smile, so
reminiscent of Dareem's. Her mind felt buzzing, addicted to the drug of
dreams. "Let's go," she repeated as she led them out of the ship. "Be
discreet, be careful, and let's make this happen."
=^= BoB - Corridor =^=
François decided to get some answers even if they would be more
encouragment then anything else, he wanted them to say it was the rigth
decision, the rigth thing to do. She would be his forever and ever. As he
walk toward the ship he was in a trance trying to connect to the
dreamland and give notice of his decision. He was walking faster now
hoping nobody would stop him.
********
Vivianne was about to ask to drop the waiting game as he eye saw someone
coming toward them. It was the Doctor he seem almost asleep and running.
"Girls , it's François" AS she pointed toward him.
Lupha's head swivelled round, "So it is." She looked at Gigi what do we
do?
"Wait and watch," Gigi's face was grim. "Don't show ourselves yet. See
where he goes."
* * * * *
François was really anxious to get into the ship, as he wander arund the
corridor not even paying attention to anyone. He cross the guard without
showing any I.D. or saying anything. The matter is he wanted to talk with
the Velonian and no one else.
* * * * *
"Do we try and follow him?" Lupha didn't really want to know the answer.
"Yes," Gigi said flatly.
"yes let's go" as she tried to follow him
They approached the security team and Jetta placed herself in front of
them. "Don't tell me - you want to go in there *again*?"
"Jetta, it's important," Gigi said earnestly. "We - we're trying to find
out if there's any link between that ship and the weird things going on
around here."
"You've just been in there once," Jetta pointed out. "If you didn't see
anything then, why should it be any different this time? And what about
the captain? Did she see you? And now Doctor Bonnenfant is in there
too... what if you get caught? I don't know, Gigi..."
"*Please*," Gigi insisted. "We didn't get caught, and we won't this time
either. We just need to see.. if things are the same this time."
Jetta looked at them for a long moment, then decided. "Fine. I don't want
anything to do with it. Just go, and if you get caught, I'll say you held
a phaser to my head or something."
"You do that, gal," Gigi gave a small grin and patted her on the
shoulder. "Let's go."
"A Phaser was that not a bit drastic?" Vivianne was impress by the
negociation of security.
Lupha scurried behind them, and with a horrible sense of Deja-Vu stepped
back onto the alien ship.
* * * * *
François came in with a purpose, to say he was accepting they're
proposition. As he was about to enter into a dream enviroment he heard a
voice inside his head. "Wait we're not alone" said the deep voice.
"But I need to speak to you" he answered forcefully.
"I know" it pause " get back into your dream from your regular place and
will talk" the voice was nicer at this point.
"Fine" he answer as he turn away.
* * * * *
"Just about... here.." this time they were quicker than before, and had
seen Francois disappear into the ship only moments before. "The
forcefiled should be just about... here..." Gigi sprang back as the
sparks flew again. "Yup. Exactly the same as before."
"But.. are the officers putting the forcefield up?" Lupha looked baffled.
"Maybe there *is* something secret going on here?"
"Someone coming, quick!" she said nervously as she was about to run.
"Out, out," Gigi almost pushed the others in her haste. "Back to where we
saw the captain when she came out. Quick!"
The group ran pass the two guards barely saying thank you one after the
other. François followed a few moments later in the same trance the
captain was a few hours earlier.
"I don't know what happening but the ship is responsable for it!"
Vivianne said while catching her breath.
"The ship, or something on the ship," Gigi said, a flicker of fear in her
eyes.
Lupha had been watching Francois, and something inside her spurred her on
to action. Breaking away from the others, she darted after him. "Doctor
Bonnenfant," she called, but not shouted.
He continued on his way in a some trance mix with anger.
"Doctor Bonnenfant - Francois!" Lupha called desperately. "It's me,
Lupha..."
He came in the turbolift, he was now almost asleep, his eyes barely open.
Lupha stared after the closed doors, then turned and trailed back to the
others. "He's in a trance. But... he isn't like that on duty, is he,
Vivienne?"
"Well, we don't see him at all, and when we do his sleeping..."she answer
honestly.
"So what causes it?" Gigi muttered, "Why do they go into the ship and
come out..like that?"
"Can we get away from here?" Lupha said suddenly. "I don't like being
here. It's creepy."
"Well, from now on every place is creepy, since is clear now that they're
affected by the ship no matter where they are." Vivienne held he head
with both hands having a hard time getting everything in perpective.
"Okay," Gigi nodded, "Let's get back to the coffee shop. Damn, I need
something to warm me up. I feel chilled to the bone standing here. But
it's not cold - it's just... horrible."
"I need a beer or something strong..everyone is so strange..." shaking
her head.
"I agree with Vivienne," Lupha said with feeling. "Let's go."
* * * * *
Later on, seated back in Ristorante Caruso, they drank their beers in
silence.
Gigi was the first to speak, "Now we've found out something, what the
hell do we do about it?"
"Who do we tell?" Lupha sighed. "We can't tell the captain. We can't tell
Commander Mattingly. And I don't expect it's any good trying to tell
Doctor Bonnenfant now."
"What about your Il Hombre..."she ask afraid of what he migth do.
"Maybe I could tell the Major," Gigi clicked her fingers. "I don't
*think* he's affected yet. But I'd have to be sure first."
"At least they aren't doing anything dangerous," Lupha said quietly.
"But it can't go on like this," Gigi added.
"I agree, it's like they don't care anymore about the things they were
fond of..." Vivienne was still thinking about the shop.
"Then the Major it will be," Gigi decided the call.
"When could we meet with him? I don't know how he'll react to see a nurse
and two crewman at his door?" Vivienne smirked.
"Maybe we don't all go together," Gigi
don't go on the Marine deck - too many
reckon." In fact, there was only *one*
could think of, but she didn't want to
said slowly. "And we definately
people with grudges there, I
person with a grudge that she
talk about that now.
"I'll wait until he's in his office on the promenade," she continued,
"And try and have a quiet word then. At least we have time on our side,
it's not like anyone's doing anything really dangerous at the moment.
She signalled to the waiter, "I think we all deserve another beer."
=/\= Belle Terre Main Docking Station =/\=
“Papers?” The security guard at customs took hold of the padd and gave it
a quick glance. First time tourist...normal security clearance. “That’s
fine thank you. Papers?”
Bree handed over his padd and took in his surroundings. Last time he had
been here had been about a decade ago. He wasn’t really one for family
reunions so he had steered clear of Belle Terre. A lot had changed since
his last visit. Before the main docking station had just been a
collection of shacks and towers for the orbital craft to dock with, now
it actually had the look of a respectable interplanetary travel hub. It
had at least tripled in size and was filled with various boutiques. Bree
had no need for a new set of ties or a travel wash kit though and
wouldn’t be hanging around.
The guard flicked through the details. Belle Terre native...”Ah, so how
are you? Visiting home?”
“Fine. Yes...obviously. Are my papers in order?” Bree sighed and held out
his hand for the padd.
The guard frowned and handed the padd back, “Yes its all fine. Enjoy your
stay.”
Dropping the padd in his bag and without even looking at the guard Bree
walked off, “I imagine it’ll be tolerable.” Bree had to push his way
through a large crowd of people waiting for family and friends to
disembark before finally getting free of the hustle and bustle. He
stepped out into the rain and hailed one of the many cabs competing for
business. He had no where to stay, and no real funds to help him find
somewhere. He would have to stay with his family.
=/\= The Conley Residence =/\=
Bree expected he should feel excited or something but when it really came
down to it he just felt a little empty as he stepped into the large
garden of his parent’s house. This hadn’t been home for him for a long
time, even when he had been living here all those years ago. His parents
had always been out working or with each other. So even when they had
been in the house Bree had felt like they weren’t really there. His view
of things might have been distorted by years away but the house had
always felt like an oversized nursery, with him as the nanny.
Even the garden that he made his way through now was a reminded of how
engrossed his parents, his father in this case, had been with their work.
It was filled with various plants and trees that his father had
cultivated. The ‘Belle Terre Rose’ and the ‘NiNi Shrubery’ probably
having seen more of his father when he’d been first developing them than
Bree had that summer.
He paused for a moment and gently cupped one of the newer, more exotic
looking flowers. Well, newer was a bit of a misleading label. Anything
that had been planted here in the past decade could be considered new by
Bree. It had been a long time. The heady aroma from the flower head was
quite pleasing. A cross between papaya and peach. One of his fathers more
successful cuttings obviously.
“Is ...Bree is that you?” the gasp from behind him took Bree by surprise
and he spun quickly on the spot, his fleet issue shoes tearing some of
the soft turf up.
“Mother...” The corner’s of Bree’s mouth curled up into an almost smile.
Khali, his mother, didn’t notice and instead rushed towards him and
hugged him. He was a little slow to respond so for a brief moment his
seventy year old mother was hanging from his shoulders.
“I’ve missed you B...” Khali released her grip a little now Bree was
hugging back. Bree winced a little at her words.
“Yeah...”
His mother pulled away from him and smiled, “Come on. Its must have been
quite a trip, I’ll fix something to eat and you can tell me about it.
Your Dad’ll be home soon too.” She grabbed a hold of Bree’s free hand and
dragged him towards the house like he was a toddler again.
“Great.” Said Bree neutrally, as he left a trail of crushed flower petals
from his other hand behind him.
=/\= The Conley Residence =/\=
Khali occasionally ducked under the work tops around the fairly vast
kitchen and popped back up with a stack of pots and pans. When the
Conley’s had first started living on Belle Terre the family had been
small. Just Khali, Padraig and then eventually Bree. Over the years
though it had expanded to such a size that everything about the house had
to be changed. More bedrooms added, an extra bathroom here and there and
a huge kitchen to feed all the growing mouths. With some bitterness Bree
recalled that for a few years he had been the family member most
acquainted with this particular room. He was wasn’t a great cook for it,
but he knew how to cook in batches. With all his younger siblings it had
been like running an army kitchen.
“The garden has been great for cooking this year! Your father has managed
to get a bumper crop out of it...and the chili’s! I think we’ll soon has
some to rival the old Earth strains.” Khali went on almost absent
mindedly as he threw bits and pieces into one of the large pans. “It
makes a lovely change to be able to come back to some real food after a
shift at the hospital. Honestly, some of the stuff they try to sell in
the cafeteria there.”
Bree dropped his bag by the breakfast bar and slid onto one of the
stools. “Anything you need me to...”
Khali was already on her way with a chopping board and some bizarre
looking vegetables. “You can start slicing these.”
“What’s this?” Bree frowned and held up one of the ugliest vegetables
he’d ever seen.
“It’s a type of tuber. Its very tasty...trust me.”
Bree raised an eyebrow at that but started cutting the odd shaped veg. He
was secretly quite fond of replicators. You got a lot of people
complaining that things didn’t taste as good from them, or that you
didn’t get to have the fun of creating the dish, but as far as Bree was
concerned that was for the better. They were quick, easy and didn’t
involve any unpleasant skinning, cutting or dicing. He was a doctor, not
a cook.
While he was lost in his thoughts the knife slipped and an irregular
shaped lump of tuber flew off. His mother looked up from the fish she was
filleting and frowned, “Ah, I see you still have the hands of a surgeon.”
Bree returned the scowl ten-fold, “I normally have assistants to do
this.” He got up and retrieved the offending piece of veg. “I’m normally
too busy in the lab sorting things out.”
“Really? And how that going?” asked Khali, “You’ve not mentioned anything
about your work so far.”
That’s because you’ve not let me get a word in edgeways!, though Bree. He
managed to censor himself though. “Well I was getting close to a
breakthrough. There was this one strain of retrovirus that was looking
particularly interesting....” He had stopped cutting and was now trying
to create the shape of the virus in the air with his hands, “....it was
able to bind onto the cells lining the....”
Khali cut across him, “I always told you that you’d be better on the
frontline of medicine. Actually helping people. It’s not a case of
breakthrough’s there, its simple. You treat, you help, you make a
difference.” “That’s not my style,” snorted Bree, “I like to be on the
cutting edge of science, not by someone’s bedside helping them get over a
case of the sniffles. Half the time people don’t need doctors, just some
common sense and a bit of composure.” He put the knife down again and put
on a whiney squeaky voice, “Oh Doctor, I was playing tennis and my
shoulder started hurting. What should I do?” Bree rolled his eyes and
carried on as normal, “Stop playing tennis.”
“Its not quite that simple.” Khali sighed.
Bree commenced cutting again, though this time with some venom, “Yes it
is. It’s cause and effect for the most part. People should be able to
work that out with me holding their hand and mopping their brow. And as
for counseling...” He paused to whistle through his teeth, “I’ve seen
sheep less woolly than counseling.”
Khali came over and took the chopping board away from Bree, “You could be
a brilliant Doctor, if you just changed your attitude. I don’t know where
you get it from.”
He glowered at her. Not from you, he thought, you would have actually had
to have been around for that thought Bree. Very difficult to pick things
up from your Mother when she spends 16 hours a day working in a clinic
the other side of the planet.
His mother dropped all the ingredients to the pan and then smiled at
Bree, oblivious to the tension radiating off him. “Anyway, you didn’t say
how long you’d be staying.”
Bree slid off his stool and picked up his bag, “I’m not sure. I’m in
between assignments so just until they let me know where they want me.”
“Wonderful.” Khali clasped her hands together excitedly, “You can stay
here with us. You can even have your old room.”
For the first time since arriving Bree actually felt a little happy, “My
old room? You’ve left it like it was before?”
Khali’s laughter echoed round the huge kitchen, “Oh no don’t be silly.
Your father’s converted it into an extra sort of plant storage area. It’s
still got a bed in so you’ll be fine there.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will.” Bree’s shoulders had slumped ever so slightly at
the news, “Me and the Triffids will get on just fine.”
=/\= SB BoB, Mort's quarters =/\=
"I know! I know!" Sammy yelled as he popped out from underneath the
clothes pile. The dummy pointed an accusatory finger at the comic.
"Chuckles here is abandoning us on this God-forsaken starbase and taking
a job elsewhere!"
The two groups were stunned but for slightly different reasons. The club
employees couldn't believe Mort would sell the club and leave. The
counseling patients were incredulous that Mort would pull out a dummy and
start talking with it in the middle of a serious conversation.
"Boss, it this true?" Westin demanded.
"No, of course not! There is no thing off the base...uh...job
anyway...well...its complicated..." Mort stammered, realizing he could
not devulge the details of the Verolian's offer.
"You wouldn't abandon us'all at the club now would ya?" Flo asked.
"Or us in counseling!?" Matilda added.
"No, I've just been vusy recently. I've been in a meditative mood. Now,
everybody out!"
Mort corralled the group of intruders and urged them toward the door.
"I still think its drugs." Westin said, by now out in the hallway.
"Am not!" Mort yelled as he finished shooing everyone out of his
quarters. This was more trouble than it was worth, he thought.
The dream-obsessed comic was getting ever closer to accepting the
Verolians offer.
=^=SB BoB - Pigs =^=
Jyan Chera was not overly fond of dreams, nor did he believe they came
true. If he had been more predisposed to such things, he might have
noticed Shazza Comfort as something more than a fixture at Pigs, but he
really hadn't even noticed her. That is, not until he tipped his drink
over and it spilled on her ... and him.
Jyan jumped up, further complicating the issue, by bumping into her.
"Why didn't I order a hot drink?" he asked the world in general. "Are you
okay?" he asked his hand automatically going toward her to test the
dampness.
"Back off, Mister," Shazza swatted his hand away, "Sit down and don't get
any wetter. I'll get a cloth."
"My chair's wet," he complained and remained standing, watching her.
She grabbed a cloth off the nearest table where she'd been cleaning and
started to dab at her short black pinafore dress, before wiping off the
studded wristbands she wore. "I don't want the metal to go rusty," she
said sardonically. "Here," she flipped the cloth in his direction. "Dry
off."
He took the towel and wiped off his clothing and then the chair. "You
could always oil them," he said, almost seriously.
"Oil them?" she waved her hands, long fingers flexing as if she'd like to
flip his ears. "Yeah, I could. And then watch all the dishes slip out all
over the floor. Bright spark, aren't you."
"Sorry about the bath," Jyan said. "I'll be happy to pay for your dress
to be cleaned."
"Mmmm... no need," she was somewhat mollified. "It'll wash out. I have
ways with bleach you wouldn't like to know about. But thanks for the
offer anyway."
"Believe me, I'm not always this nice," he said. "But it was my fault."
"Yeah. It was," she decided. "So... you going to sit there or order?"
"Can I have another drink?" he asked changing the subject. She didn't
seem all that special to him - just another waitress with an attitude.
"What do you suggest?"
"Try the specials menu," she indicated the board. "Soft drink or
cocktail? We don't do beer or spirits straight. The Martini Mulder is
good if you like something perfect, crisp and dry. The DeZusa Cruiser is
good if you want something to blow your head off. But id you want a soft
drink then a Pepsi Bax usually does the trick."
"The Mulder drink seems to fit the good captain perfectly, but not me,"
Jyan said. "I'll take Pepsi Bax. That's named for the security chief,
isn't it? Not one of my best friends, but I like to experiment."
"Something you don't like is often good for the soul," Shazza gave a
wicked smile. "But yeah, Pepsi Bax coming up."
"How about food?" he asked. "What's your favorite?"
Shazza shrugged, "It's all really good. My dad is the chef, and he's ace.
Take your pick. The Venison Vaughan is very popular is you want to get
stuck into something really substantial. Otherwise the Big BoB Burger for
a good snack."
"When do you get off work?" he asked out of the blue.
"Why?" Shazza gave him a suspicious look.
"I thought I might offer to buy you a drink somewhere when you're done
here," he said.
"Ha! Ohh no you don't," Shazza flipped one of her jet black pigtails back
over her shoulder. "Trying to distract me, hm? Won't work."
"Why would I distract you?" he asked. "Do you think I can't pay my bill?"
He put a pile of currency in several planetary denominations on the table
with a clunk. "Take your pick."
"I'm new here," he continued. "I just thought you might be interesting to
talk to you if you could get rid of that chip on your shoulder."
"Hell*o*? Busy girl trying to work here?" Shazza rolled her eyes. "It's a
self-activating chip that has an inbuilt BS meter. It roars into action
at the first signs."
"Do you dance?" he asked.
"No," her expression clearly showed what she thought of that. "Have you
*looked* at people when they dance? They wiggle one bit here and one bit
there, and fling a limb out here and another out there, trying to keep in
time to music. I mean, dancing is one of the most un-cool things an adult
can do."
"That just shows how much you know, little girl," Jyan said, but not in
an unfriendly fashion. "Dancing is great exercise and is very graceful.
The problem is you haven't seen anyone who can really dance. People dance
for several reasons: to show off, to stay fit and to enjoy themselves. I
dance for all of those reasons. I could even teach you, that is, if I
felt like it. What do you do for fun then?"
"That's very presumptuous," Shazza wondered why it was her bad luck to be
hit on by an ignoramus. "You have no idea what sort of people dancing
I've seen. You just can't accept that some people might find it dumb."
"Dumb?" Jyan asked. "Dancing is classic."
"There's several sorts of dancers," she smirked. "The Dance-Like-Your-Dad
contenders, that's just plain embarrassing. Then there's the Epileptic
Spider dancers, that's amusing to watch if you're stoned but no-one with
any sense of decency would ever do it. And then there's the Lounge Lizard
dancers, who think that because they can make their bodies all oily and
slithery instead of jerky that they're hot. They aren't, they're just
creepy." Flicking the table clean she finished, "That's the world
according to Shazza. If you don't like it, go boil your head."
"Nice," Jyan said. "So you don't dance. What do you do?"
"What do I do for fun..." a wicked smile appeared. "I go to my favourite
nightclub. Demonicas, on the second lower promenade," she waggled her
fingers, "It's dark and spooky in there." She didn't add that the music
was played loud enough to make your ears bleed.
"Never been there," he said. "You like spooky?"
Shazza gave him an ironic look and wordlessly gestured to her attire. Her
shoulder-length black hair was tied in two bunches either side of her
head. A black leather studded dog collar necklace was her only jewellery.
She wore a short black pinafore dress with thick black tights and long
clunky leather boots. "Silly question," she flipped at him.
"Do you have a dark nature, Miss?" he enquired.
"Darker that you would dare imagine," she wiggled her eyebrows at him.
"Are you into vampires? Werewolves? Gothic spires and hidden secrets?"
Jyan asked.
"Well, *duh*," she gave him an obtuse look. "And I'm not the only one.
All the regulars at Demonicas share the same tastes. There's more of us
dark legions that you think."
"Take me there, will you?" he asked.
"Nooo," she looked at him as if he'd asked her to spacewalk without an
oxygen cylinder. "I've got my reputation to think of. You want to go, you
go there yourself. If I see you there, you can buy me a drink."
"I thought maybe you'd buy me a drink," Jyan said, finding this
conversation humorous, "but if you insist."
"Oh, and I'd suggest you wear something less...square," she nodded to his
clothes. "If you embarrass me I won't talk to you."
"What's wrong with how I dress?" he asked, looking down at his ship
captain's casual. He sighed. "So I need black, shiny and that sort of
thing ..."
"Keep it simple. Don't try too hard. If you aren't really into Goth
you'll only look like a wannabe. Just...be cool," she made a pacifying
movement with her hands.
"Cool?" he asked. "How am I supposed to know what's cool? You've already
hinted I leave something to be desired."
"You're a newbie. Not
make a show, it isn't
you're going. No need
yourself. Chill," she
a natural Goth," she pointed out. "Don't try and
natural. Just be yourself, and think of where
to try and be something you aren't, just be
looked up as a diner was trying to attract her
attention. "I gotta go. We're going to get busy now it's shift changeover."
Jyan stood up. "Do you have a name?" he asked.
"Shazza," she was tempted to make up something outrageous, but refrained
from teasing any more.
He seemed like a fun guy, even though he was a bit full of himself. But
then again, BoB was famous for it's eccentrics, so that wasn't unusual,
not around here.
She moved off to her new customer, "And what can we do for you today...?"
=/\= USS Enforcer - Counsellor's Office =/\=
"So you don't think I'm crazy, then?" Ann Bowers smiled.
"Absolutely not," K'Sharak unfolded his long legs from the edge of the
armchair and sat up. "I'm glad you came to me."
"It was the Captain's idea," Ann admitted. "But now the dreams have
stopped, and I'm talking to Alexi by comm, everything seems a bit..silly.
I mean *I* feel a bit silly."
"A new relationship can be a major cause of stress, especially when it's
unexpected, and - in our line of work - uncertain," K'Sharak said
reassuringly. "But...I wonder... do you think it might be a good idea to
see Doctor Darcy, just to make sure there's no underlying physical
cause?"
"What do you mean?" Ann was instantly concerned.
"Nothing serious, I can assure you. But the physical symptoms - might
have been triggered by something else, something you ate, a food
intolerance or something, and were aggravated by your emotional state,
Can't hurt," K'Sharak smiled.
"Maybe not. It *was* kind of weird. Alright, I'll go check in. I'm
overdue my annual physical anyway," Ann grinned. "He'll think it's a
miracle."
=/\= Sickbay =/\=
True to her word, Ann walked straight to sickbay and entered, looking
around for the CMO.
She heard a movement behind her and Tom Darcy appeared, throwing himself
against the doors, "Now you're here you're not getting out without a
fight, missy," he gave a wicked grin.
"No fighting, I promise you," she chuckled. "I just...decided to stop by
for my physical, without having to be dragged here."
"Wise move, madam. very wise move," he gestured to a bio bed, "Hop up
there and I'll zip through this so fast you'll wonder why you ever put it
off."
Thirty minutes later, Tom was examining the results the various readouts.
"All the normal baseline tests are fine. Unless there's anything been
bothering you, then I'm happy to sign you off for another year's
slavery."
"There's nothing wrong at all?" there was a definite query in Ann's
voice.
"No," Tom looked shrewdly at her. "Why, were you expecting there to be?"
"It's just..." she hesitated, "It's just that I didn't *exactly* come
here just for a physical. In fact, K'Sharak suggested it, and it was the
captain who sent me to him.." she told Tom everything. The dreams, so
vivid, the constant wanting to sleep and dream some more, and the
crankiness when the dreams stopped happening. She was honest about her
new relationship, and asked if it was anything to do with that.
"I see..." Tom looked thoughtful. "Well, let me do a few more in-depth
checks."
Ann nodded as he brought the diagnostic cage down and started to operate
it's various analysis systems.
At length, he stood back and removed the cage, helping her to sit up.
"There is something.. nothing serious, but the brain scan picked up
increased dopamine levels in your cerebral cortex, and it seems they have
been much higher only recently."
"Um, what's that mean? In layman's terms."
"Okay, Dopamine is a phenethylamine naturally produced by the human body.
In the brain, dopamine functions as a neurotransmitter, activating the
five types of dopamine receptor, and their variants."
"Doctor Darcy," Ann complained, "I said, in layman's terms."
"Hm? Sorry, okay," he grinned. Well, Dopamine is commonly associated with
the pleasure system of the brain, providing feelings of enjoyment and
reinforcement to motivate a person proactively to perform certain
activities. Dopamine is released by naturally rewarding experiences such
as food, sex, use of certain drugs and neutral stimuli that become
associated with them."
Ann had been trying to follow this. "But I eat a balanced diet, I
haven't.. I mean, our relationship isn't physical in that way yet - we've
only just met, for goodness sakes, and I *never* take drugs. Ever."
"I hear you, and I believe you," Tom was quick to reassure her.
"Basically, increased dopamine levels can be triggered by so many
different things in different people. Even chocolate can produce it. Or
something like playing a video game or particularly exciting holodeck
programme."
"So, I'm addicted to Alexi? I really don't like the sound of that.. not
in this context," Ann frowned.
"No, no, nothing like that." Tom thought for a moment. "One *possible*
hypothesis, is that you ate something that stimulated mild dopamine
levels, and then, quite naturally, you were dwelling on your new
relationship. Quite possible it was a round-robin cause and effect, the
dreams becoming the 'fix' you needed. And like any high, you weren't too
happy when that stopped happening."
Ann nodded slowly, "So, it might have been a food that triggered it after
all."
"It's possible," Tom spread his hands. "This still isn't an exact
science, so yes, it is possible."
"I can live with that," Ann gave a dry laugh.
"If you want, we could have a go at trying to isolate what food triggered
it?" Tom offered. "That way, you would have some measure of control. All
I'd ask you to do is keep a food diary, and supply you with a list of
various foodgroups to eat every day. Then, if the symptoms re-occur, we
can identify them much more easily."
"Sounds reasonable," Ann slid off the bed and stood up.
"Good. And with your permission, I'd like to let the captain know, so
she's aware that the cause was probably some food reaction, and nothing
at all to do with emotional state."
After a moments hesitation, Ann nodded. "Yes, that's fine. Go ahead."
"Sorted," Tom was downloading information and handed Ann a Padd. "Here
you are, this is the prescribed test programme. Enjoy, and let me know
right away if you notice any recurrence, okay?"
"I will, thanks," Ann said with some relief. She was *definitely* not
going to tell Alexi about this. How crazy it sounded. She chuckled
quietly to herself as she left sickbay.
=/\= USS Caledonia/Scavengers Hub - Jackson's Whole =/\=
Jackson sat at his desk in the study, staring thoughtfully.
It was 0700 hours, and he was an early riser. Drumming his fingers on the
desk, he started to reach for the chest under his desk when a figure
appeared at the door.
"Miss Burke is here to see you."
"Good timing," he crossed the room and followed the goon out to the
hallway. "I'll see her now."
"Eye want in, and eye want eit now," Havelock clamoured, awaiting entry.
"Come through here." Jackson's tone was clipped. "There's something you
should see." He led the way into the exhibition gallery.
"Holee beetroot, you bayn taking pot shots, or something?" Havelock
asked. "Unfriendly fire?"
"Yes. It seems we've had uninvited guests." He, too stared at the hole in
the window.
"Eny-thang gone walkies?"
"Nothing has been taken from *here*," he gestured to the large room, with
it's esoteric exhibits. "I was just about to check our most valuable
item, though. Come." He led the way back out, across the hallway and into
his study.
Reaching back town, he pulled the chest out, and brought out a simple
old-fashioned key from his waistcoat pocket. He and Havelock exchanged
glances as he turned the lock and opened the lid.
"It's still there," he said, relief mixed with puzzlement.
"Et es, yes...."Havelock stated, frowning.
"If not this, then what did they come for?" he frowned. Then, he looked
closer. "Ahhh... see... neatly done, but not quite neat enough." He
indicated a few faint scratches around the keyhole.
"They got en?" Havelock blew away a burr.
"So we must assume they've seen it, and most likely copied it," he
breathed. Then he gave a thin, nasty smile. "But it could work in our
favour."
"Oh, really," Havelock grinned. "Smells like a plan, Jackson."
"Yes. Maybe they will work it out, and if so we'll be ready for them. You
can cover all the possible locations?" he gave Havelock a significant
look. "Make sure they don't escape our notice when they return?"
"For you, sugar," She grinned that evil grin, whilst twirling a lock of
lank greasy hair, "I'd do anything. But if they come back?"A concerned
and wary edge came to her tone.
"Oh, they'll return. If they work out...the location, they'll return," he
said grimly.
"But how do we play this?" Havelock mused.
"Just let me know," he stood up. "And then we'll act." He hesitated, "How
many people can you trust?"
"I have a small, select clutch," Havelock replied.
"Believe me, if they do their job properly, then there will be riches for
all. I've been waiting all my life for this..." his eye twitched. "The
final piece of glory for my collection. It belongs to me. It's my
birthright."
Havelock was starting to feel wary. "How long before the swing around
again, all this could go all very pear shaped...."
"I don't know how long they'll be. Depends on how long it takes them to
work it out. And they'll act quickly, so we must be ready."
"Right you are, Jackson," Havelock clicked her heels. "On yer marks, eh,
Jackson," she added giving a mock salute.
"Indeed. Get set - go," he gave another sinister smile, as he escorted
her out.
=/\= SB BoB security -=Avril pulled the baseball cap lower on to her dirty blonde hair. She
could just about see from beneath the peak, and her eyes were still a
little sore. Three days in a darkened room had blighted her senses
somewhat. The cap was also good hat hiding the lacerations on her face.
She was sore in more ways that one.
"Hello, anyone in?" she called to wander into Security. "Only I need to
speak to some one," she added stepping out the way of a tipsy Ferengi..
Gigi was just finishing up a snakc in the security crewers mess room the shabby but comfortable off-duty area with it's eclectic collection of
battered armchairs, mis-matched tables and well-used replicators.
Since there wasn't anyone else around, she figured it was her call.
"Yeah, come on in," she waved lazily.
"Hiyer," Avril didn't look up, simply doffing her cap. "You security,
proper, or just on work experience or something?" she asked, gaze fixed
on the floor.
"Ha, it's *all* work experience here, and the experience isn't always one
you want to remember," Gigi snickered. "Sure, I'm qualified. You gotta
problem, want to see qualifications or something, lady?"
"Meant no offence, missis," Avril gave a nervous laugh. "Just got to be
careful round these parts, you know, fair few psychos out loose."
"Psychos are okay. It's the so-called normal people that are the weird
ones," Gigi said with feeling. "Right, there's just yoiu and me,
sonorita. What's up?"
"Canvassing. Canvasing for membership,"reaching into a pocket, Avril
handed over an manilla tinged flyer."Rumour has it, you had some set to
with Ca-the fella in green."
"The fella in green?" Gigi took the flyer and her eyes widened in
surprise. "Il Hombre! There's a fan club for Il Hombre?" She gave a peal
of laughter. "Madre de Dios... now I've heard it all. And yeah, I had
dealing with the Major. He's good people, you know? Proper officer," she
nodded. "And you think I oughta join a *club*?"
"Anywhere we can talk?" Avrill looked up, glassy blue eyes peeking
temporarily from beneath the peak. "Only, I think you may be interested.
*Very* interested."
Gigi was intrigued, and besides, it took her mind off all the other
problems that were happening on the station. "Sure, I'll listen. I don't
know about joining. I don't do fan clubs usually." She looked at the
door, no-one was in sight. "Come and sit down," she indicated a far
table. "We can talk in private here."
"The Cade Vaughan Appreciation Society. Established way back when. It
started out as fan club," Avril tucked a stray lock behind her ear as she
took the proffered seat. "A bunch of hormonal groupies who hung on the
guys' every word, know what I mean?" A quick grin was flashed.
"Hey, I know the guy is popular," Gigi smirked. "That's a bit crazy
though, eh? Who joins this sort of thing?"
"Oldest memeber is one hundred and something not out," Avril commented.
"The youngest batch are in the school. It's a conveyor belt type thing."
"Ayeayeaye, now that's gotta be weird. Just when I thought things
couldn't be any weirder around here. So what's the mystery? Why you come
creeping in here like you on a spy mission or something?"
"See, thing is, the Orchestrator. She heard. About you....and sent me
over." Avril shrugged a little. "New blood and that."
"Orchestrator? Eh, hope she isn't anything like the Facilitator," Gigi
gave a shudder at the memory of Captain Mulder's evil Mirror Universe
twin. "So this swoon-eyes senora thinks I'd want to join a bunch of lusty
ladies eh? Ha..." she laughed again.
"That's one part of the mission. Gigi," was the dual layered reply.
"And the rest?" Gigi gave her an odd look.
"Lemme show you something," she proceeded to take off her cap. Revealing
half her face to be nothing more than a lacerated, red raw mess. Acid
burns, gauze and dressings "Thing is, Gigi. They're all nutters. The lot
of them. This gotta stop, and I need your help."
"Santa Maria!" Gigi nearly jumped up. "They did that to you??"
"Ye-owww," Avril winced to nod.
"Why?" Gigi stared at the injuries. "You spilt ketchup on a poster of Il
Hombre or something?"
"I wish," Avril returned her cap. "Would take great pleasure in licking
it off," she added tucking hair back. "No, ratted someone out. This
weren't to scare me. But her. Only they extend beyond this place, so
where ever she is. Lord help her."
"They sound worse than crazy, they sound dangerous. You wanna make an
official complaint about that? I can arrest 'em easy enough," Gigi tapped
her phaser. "If you know who they are - who did this?"
"I could tell you straight, make it all very easy." Avril sighed. "But
this isn't about racking up collars."
"What you mean?" Gigi fiddled with her phaser. "Why not round the carzy
hussies up right now?"
"Gigi, you join, you get an inside track. Get enough on them, you can
take it to the Captain," Avrill suggested. "There is a member in most
departments, why should security be any different. You'd be helping shut
them down."
"Eh, maybe..." Gigi said slowly. If this was a large-scale sting she'd
have to get baxter's permission and help, not to mention the Captain. And
neither of them were particularly communicative at the moment. maybe
testing the waters first wasn't such a bad idea. Then something else
ocurred to her. "You said you ratted someone out? Who's the victim?"
"Gigi, listen," Avril sighed deeply. "It was Dharma. They want to warn
Dharma. The woman who used to be 3XO."
"*She's* a member of this society too?" Gigi's jaw dropped. "Madre de
Dios, she's playing with fire." Gigi knew all the gossip, spoken and
unspoken, all the undercurrents and all the speculation now nad past and she suspected things she didn't really want to ever talk about. "Hell
yeah, playing with fire," the repeated amid many undertones.
"I took persuading," Avril gave a heavy sigh. "I played her mole whilst
she played chief counsellor in exhange for basic Psych training, and now
she naffed off. I was her contact, keeping her informed. Ony she told Cathe fella in green about us, and well, the rest is like water toture. We
need help, Gigi, before they actually do something proper."
"Okay, you sold it, I'll play along," Gigi came to the decision. It would
definatel;y be best to find out what was going on, and then.. when
everything was back to normal, she could make a proper report. With
confidence borne of long experience, she told herself that everything
*would* be okay, eventually. Besides which, if she messed it up now, it
could cause the Major some embarassment, and that was something she
wanted to avoid at all costs. "So, what do I have to do?"
Avril gave a discreet but pained smile. "In half an hour. There's a
gathering," she started, standing to leave. "They want here about how you
got the fella in green to tear a new one from that Frost girl."
......Deserted storage unit.....
The room was badly lit. There was upturned crate in the middle of the
room. Covered with a checked red and white cloth, there was what appeared
to be a severed head sat on it. Was in fact a third year art project. The
sibject being the man, the legend, the superhero. The eyes were a bit
close together, the hair a bit like spaghetti strands. The nose was best
described as something out of cryano de begerac. In this case, not only
was love blind, but also the artiste.
Avril gestured to Gigi to creep in. Keeping her back befoe the vultures
took their prey. "I got her, Gigi Gomez. She's here."
Gigi's eyes were flickering around the room, hatrdly able to believe what
she was seeing. A shrine, that's what this was. It creeped her out more
than she wanted to admit. Gamely trying to play the part she gave a shy
smile, trying to keep in with the general image of being new and
overawed.
"We have a new member," Wirh a flash of light a disembodied voice boomed
out over a tannoy. "Step forwards, let us see you and hear you...."
Avril tapped Gigi on the elbow. "Just tell 'em, make it sound dramatic,
macdreamy with bells on," she whispered.
Gigi swallowed hard, and stepped forward as asked. "My name is Gigi, and
I admire the major," she stated. Then her natural latino fire took over
and she began her story, embellishing it with as much drama as she
couldm, reciting the events of the Major's defence of her. "And then..."
she warmed up for her grand finale, he looks straight into my eyes, and
he says...."Crewman, you have my most sincere apologies for this
incident." She took a deep breath and finished in ringing tones, "Rest
assured, young lady, that I will make this right." She gave a theatrical
sigh and clasped her hands together in assumed hero-worship.
There was gasps of astonishment, swoons and even a couple of shrieks best
reserved for a lunatic asylum.
Avril rolled her eyes. "Reckon you found your hero, the legend and
superhero," her eyes were wide, hoping Gigi got the gist. "A suitable
target for swooning, pining and general lusting after?"
"The man, the legend," Gigi repeated automatically, hoping she'd done
enough to pass muster in the eyes of the lust-crazed lunatic ladies.
"You may be of some use, Miss Gomez. Whilst we appreciate the on going
turf war between the marines and security, you may be a worthy asset.
Welcome."
"Thank you," Gigi tried to smile.
"Accoutrements, ladies...."the voice demanded.
On cue, three fair nymphs danced forwards to hand Gigi a poster of one
Major Vaughan..."To be adored and deified...." A padd of rules of
engagement, swiped from someone who would in this instance remain
anonymous, and a miniture of Johnny walker in the case of emergancies.
"Um. That's very kind," Gigi looked at the picture. "Is there anything
special, I mean, any ritual that I need to follow or anything?"
"Thing not of these as weapons, dear Gigi. But tools," the voice stated
calmy. "Tools to carry out the task of appreciation.
"I see," Gigi gave a rspectful nod. "I'll...guard it with my life."
"Onwards and upwards, Gigi," the voice sounded remarkably chipper. "And
welcome. Welcome to the CVAS." And with that, the light clicked off, and
the voice departed.
"Is that it?" Gigi whispered. "No initiation ritres or anything?"
"Blimey," Avril was somewhat surprised. "You got spared the three hour
lecture and trumpets. You made an impression, darling."
"Good." Gigi didn't want to even *start* to imagine what their initiation
ceremonies might be, otherwise. "Can we get out of here anytime soon?"
"Well, we still have to get his boxers, stick em on a flag pole outside
the pigs" Avril the groupie replied. "Get him hammered, and this seduce
him. Best of luck with that, love, apparently that requires some bottle,"
she laughed nodding at the short measure.
"Ri-i-i-i-ght..." Gigi sincerely hoped that Avril was just keeping up
conversation for appearances sake.
Other members started to file out, smiling and nodding towards Gigi. A
couple waved and giggled excitedly.
"The plan, Gigi, is this," Avril once again took a conspiritors tone.
"Third party risk trumps everything. The Major, he knows. But he don't
know how mad, bad and dangerous to know this lot are. His ignorance was
our bliss. Now listen.....
The one woman on this base who isnt part of this, is the Captain," Avil
took a sneaky look around. "She would only be pleasantly amused to hear
she might run the shop and voice commands. We listen to her, but don't
hear her. We're all to busy ogling her lieutenant. Can't be having the
major having more pull than a captain now can we.....?"
Gigi sank down onto a seat. "Avril, they're symbiotic. And yes, I can
spell that too. The captain and the major, they're a team. She don't care
any more for the rank of the thing than he does, I reckon. I've seen them
together, they just...make things happen, together or apart." Gigi buried
her head in her hands. "I gotta go, Avril. I gotta write a report and
keep it safe, and start to try and put this thing together in my head.
You know where to find me when you want me next, okay?"
She walked slowly out. This was far worse than she'd imagined. These
women were crazy, really crazy. And she wasn't going to let them embarass
the major, not now, not ever. But she didn't have a clue what to do. She
couldn't tell the Captain, and she couldn't tell the Major, yet. besides,
she neded to let him know about the weird way the captain and the Doctor
were acting around the alien ship.
She gave a quiet groan. There were times when a good solid invasion of
homicidal aliens seemed a positive walk in the park compared to the
tangled, weird situation they were all drowning in right now..
=/\= Starbase BoB, Deck 157 =/\=
Cade stepped off of the turbolift and walked into the corridor quietly,
carefully listening for any sound of movement echoing from the bare
walls. He paused at the first junction and waited for over a minute.
Satisfied that he was alone, he walked deeper into the deck labelled as a
'Maintenance Level.'
As I sit here, and slowly close my eyes, I take another deep breath and
feel the wind pass through my body. I'm the one in your soul, reflecting
inner light. Protect the ones who hold you, cradling your inner child.
He stopped again at the door to Storage Unit 157-Alpha-5-22. It was a
door that looked just like all of the others in Corridor 5 of the Alpha
quadrant of the deck. He brought his hand up and pressed on a rusty
panel. The pressure switch popped and the metal hinged upward revealing
state-of-the-art electronics that were severely out of place on the deck.
Cade keyed in a code on the small panel and a small shield irised open.
Putting his eye up to it, a short burst of infrared light scanned his
retina. A faint click signalled that the door was now unlocked.
I need serenity, in a place where I can hide. I need serenity, nothing
changes, days go by.
As soon as he pushed the door open, Cade was faced with the operational
end of a pair of compression phasers. The two Marines holding them
immediately returned the pistols to their holsters without a sound and
went back to their work at the benches lining the left and far walls.
Where do we go when we just don't know, and how do we relight the flame
when it's cold? Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing and when
will we learn to control?
These two were great finds. Corporal Dennis Brody had jumped at the offer
to join the Nomads after being approached by Cade. The blonde-haired,
blue-eyed, boy-next-door probably would have become a serial killer if
the Marines hadn't gotten their hooks in him first and tranformed that
lust for violence to something more useful. His life was turned upside
down when Orion pirates attacked the commercial liner his parents were
vacationing on. Deemed too old for the slave markets, they'd been left on
the drifting hulk to die of exposure. When the bitter soldier had been
offered the chance to hunt down 'enemies of the Federation,' he hadn't
hesitated to accept the transfer.
Tragic visions slowly stole my life. Tore away everything, cheating me
out of my time. I'm the one who loves you, no matter wrong or right. And
every day I hold you, I hold you with my inner child.
First Corporal Avi Richter had taken a little more convincing. A member
of the New Galilee Colonial Defense Force, Richter had been an artist in
his former life with a wife and three daughters. That life had ended when
Orion raiders had descended on the desert world. His family dead in the
rubble of a bunker that was supposed to protect them, he'd wandered the
streets for days, guilt-stricken that he hadn't protected them. Grief had
nearly driven him crazy before he found his way into a CDF recruiting
station. He hadn't believed what Cade was offering at first, but once he
believed, he signed the paperwork agreeing to the exchange program that
would allow him to serve in the Nomads.
I need serenity, in a place where I can hide. I need serenity, nothing
changes, days go by.
Cade stopped before reaching Brody's workstation. The wall was papered
with photos. Friends and family of the troopers of Omega Team, taken from
the Marines by a common enemy. If Mulder ever did any digging into the
Nomad personnel files, she'd find out that nearly every single of the
'Black Praetorians' had an axe to grind with the Orions. He'd heard most
of the nicknames that the rest of the Nomads had come up with for Omega,
but he like that one best. It had become an unofficial unit motto. He
slowly trailed his fingers over the picture of Bronwen he'd put up there;
taken on their near idyllic holiday at the beach.
I need serenity, in a place where I can hide. I need serenity, nothing
changes, days go by.
Cade watched Brody work for a moment. The trained armoury tech was
responsible for the weapons that they were using for their own brand of
justice. The pistol he was working on right now was a variant of Klingon
disruptor technology. Racked on the wall were a pair of Breen assault
rifles and a Cardassian phaser pistol. The weapons all had distinct
enough energy signatures to keep any investigators running in circles for
months, if not longer. He clapped a hand on Brody's shoulder wordlessly
and moved on.
Where do we go when we just don't know, and how do we relight the flame
when it's cold? Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing, and when
will we learn to control?
As he reached the Sabra, the soldier turned on his stool to display his
latest creation. It was barely recognizable as a modern combat helmet. A
dull bronze, the exact replica of a Roman legionary's helmet had one nod
to the era in which it was created; the matte black face plate that
covered the front opening. This model had a broad transverse horsehair
crest in a purple and black striped pattern. Cade smiled grimly and
nodded his head. Richter smiled in return and went back to work creating
the new uniforms.
I need serenity, in a place where I can hide. I need serenity, nothing
changes, days go by
Cade sat down at his own station, helping out the other two by sorting
parts and going through the bins still labelled, 'Rupert Velvet
Productions' to see what else the film crew had 'left behind' that was
useful for their own little crusade.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Meeting Room =/\=
Chess arrived early and set up the display, an enlarged view of the map
that Zerin had copied at the midnight raid.
It was quite basic in it's layout. Clearly showing part of Scavengers
Hub, the township of Jackson's Whole was marked roughly to one side.
On the other side, was the wasteland area that covered the rest of the
small hub, and it didn't help that there were no scale designations to
say whether they were looking at miles, kilometers, tens or hundreds.
However, a range of low mountains did seem to be shown, and some writing
next to them.
It said:
Lost and found. Taken for the good of all. Never disturb, never seek
again. Written my hand this day of...
- and there the writing faded out.
Chess looked at it as if hoping for more words to materialise as she
awaited the others. She'd summoned Zerin, Jinti and Mike as the original
members of the away team and also Zim, if the Ferengi was well enough to
join them. It figured that where treasure was possibly involved, a
Ferengi might have insights.
Jinti bounded into the room first. "Yo, Cap'n. Whut ya got there? That
it?"
"That's it," Chess indicated she could sit.
"There ain't much to go on, is there?" Jinti frowned at the display.
"They mighta bin more helpful."
"It's all we've got," Chess shrugged. "And if we put our heads together,
we might make something of it. It's the only chance we're going to get
now."
Dragging his now customary veil of bedsheets behind him Zim entered the
room, announcing his presence with a small dry cough. "Hey..." He looked
across at Jinti and wrinkled his nose. It wrinkled a little further as he
let out a tiny pathetic sounding sneeze.
"Yo, short stuff," Jinti gave him a laconic wave. She hoped his recovery
hadn't so far stretched to investigating the new contents of the still.
If he tried to claim back profits there was going to be one hell of a
ruck. She cracked her knuckles and tried to look angelic.
"Thats an impressive map." said Zim as he flopped into a seat.
"It would be," replied Chess, "If we had any idea of what we were dealing
with, and what the dimensions were."
"No scale?" Zim asked as he brought his feet up on his seat, making a
sort of bed sheet ball. "Could the mountains or something be used for
scale?"
Jinti was frowning as she tried to recollect something. "Yeah, he might
have a point. Cap'n, c'n I go get a report, I reckon there's sumthin' I
saw from my guys that might help there."
"Go ahead," Chess slid a fresh Padd her way. "Access it from here."
Jinti noded and set about trying to find the item she was thinking of
whilst the others were arriving.
Mike arrive in no better shape then before the shower and beauty sleep.
He was moving slowly and every move seem to cause alot of pain " Hi
everyone" he said sitting near the table.
"Do we know exactly where it is ?" he ask before even studing the map.
"We're trying to work that out, that'll be our priority," Chess told him.
"Lieutenant Lamarr thinks she might find some reference," she looked
across at Jinti who was absorbed in her task. "Lieutenant Zim had the
idea of using the mountains as a starting point for determining scale."
Zerin entered and took a seat. "I suggest we ask the Naked Vedek for tips
on the area. As long as he's here and under our protection, he's going to
need something to do." She did not mention the tambourine-and-cowbell
duets Sandrik and the Naked Vedek had been composing together.
"We can ask him, certainly," Chess nodded.
"I got it,!" Jinti looked up. "See, when my guys were at those cliffs
outta town and nearly got mashed, they did make a proper report. An' I
think them mountains is the place they were at. Sounds like it from the
description."
"Bring up the sketch," Chess said quickly, and they were all able to see.
"Yes, I believe you're right. In that case, we know where we're heading.
But if we're after the right thing, that's another question
altogether..."
Zim absent mindedly started rubbing at the top of his lobes. There was
tingling...tingling equaled profit. "Those words...you know, 'Lost and
found' and so on, thats got to be treasure talk." He looked around at
everyone as he explained, "Like the riddles you get by the doors on tombs
or on pirate maps. Like..." He screwed his face up in thought, "Indiana
Jones IX, where Harrison Ford parts the vegetation with his zimmer frame
and finds the riddle that leads him to a pot of gold."
"I'm going to check with the Naked Vedek to see what he knows about the
area, any caves, any other passages. And, of course, for any boulders
that might accidentally squish us," Zerin said. "Sandrik and I will set
the tricorders to scan the caves for any additional traps."
Ches looked around the table. "We seem to have a plan, people. Now, the
away mission will be dangerous. I'm looking for volunteers..
"There will be booby traps and assorted other attempts to off us," Zerin
explained. "I'd like to prepare a preliminary topographical map of the
area and I also think we should take one or two security personnel for
extra precautions. Harlan wouldn't mind."
"I'm in." Zim shrugged his little shoulders, "My lobes are tingling, that
means good things on the treasure front, I'm sure of it. They've never
let me down. Well, 'cept for that time with the whole 'Your are our gods'
buisiness but..." Zim shook his head, "Anyways, I reckon I'd be more use
helping you find stuff down there than just coughing and sneezing up
here."
"An' I gotta go too.. coz...I'm good with directions an' I can slug
people," Jinti didn't have a really brilliant reason, she just knew she
wanted to go."
Chess gave a brief smile, "Very well. This will be the away team. I'm not
sure about extra security people, I'd rather we kept this small - and
kept some people in reserve. We might need rescuing," she added with a
significant look.
"Jist one thing, Cap'n," Jinti raised her hand. "If'n this is a map of
where that casket is hid, how come Jackson hisself didn't go get it?"
"Good question, Lieutenant," Chess said slowly. "You'd think he'd do that
straight away. Unless.. unless he hasn't had time yet. Yes,..." she felt
she'd hit on the right answers. "Suppose that the *map* was the thing for
sale, not the casket itself? And Jackson bought the map, it's only
recently come on the market, as the rumours only started in the last few
months. Maybe he hasn't worked out where yet - or maybe he has, and he
wanted to wait untill the fuss died down so he could get it without the
risk of being jumped for it."
That was the most likely explanation - and now they had to pull of the
heist underneath his nose, on his own home turf. "I like a challenge,"
Chess said lightly. "Now, it's 1300 hours - I suggest we wait until it's
dark, and depart at 2300 hours tonight."
She stood up, "So get some rest today, and make your preparations. If any
of you need to go down into the township, do so but be careful. Don't
attract too much attention, just be natural. We'll assemble in
transporter room one at 2230 hours for final briefing. Any questions
before then, you know where to find me." She nodded to them, "Dismissed."
=/\= Zim's Quarters =/\=
The doors swished open and the lights grudgingly flickered on. For the
first time in weeks Zim was in the right state of mind to apprieciate
just how much of a tip his quarters had become. Now the weeks of chugging
back slug flavoured cough medicine were over he was aware of the fact
very little washing or cleaning had been done.
Piles of clothes, with various tube grub and ready meal stains, were
placed strategically around the room, looking like fabric termite hills.
Next to them were stacks of greasy plates and cutlery that tottered when
the air conditioning was on too high. Zim had been oblivious to it all.
He'd spent most of his time wrapped up tightly on his bed, venturing out
to eat and top up on various potions and ointments to relive the pain.
Zim decided he would tidy up quickly after a shower.
"Ah...", a quick check of the bathroom reminded Zim that he hadn't
managed to control some of the bouts of nausea. Maybe he'd just shower
and tidy later. After all it wasn't urgent that his quarters be spick and
span, and he was only going to get all sweaty and grubby on the away
mission anyway.
Zim rubbed his stomach, "Mmmm, grubby." He still wasn't feeling 100% but
he was starting to get his appetite back. A quick snack and then he'd
start getting ready. As Zim approached the tube grub burrow the
inhabitants seem unconcerned. His illness meant the periodic cullings
from the 'orange beast' had ceased and so the tube grubs had become
complacent. After Zim had thrown a couple of the squirming grubs into his
mouth the others stampeded back into the relative safety of the deepest
burrow caverns.
Right, treasuring hunting equipment. Zim was sure he had some appropriate
attire and knick knacks hidden around the place. No good Ferengi went far
without them. He could still remember his first 'Ferengi Joe Plunderer
Kit'. It had come with a swag sack and crow bar that he'd been quite
proud of as a child.
Zim rifled through his wardrobe, throwing items of clothing and various
small boxes out as he looked. It was in a small sort of Ark/casket
thingy..."Aha!" With a cry of triumph, followed by a small sneeze, Zim
pulled out a small wooden casket and walked over to his desk with it. He
quickly opened it and pulled out a dishevelled looking tan Fedora hat.
"Just what you need for treasure hunting." Zim grinned and placed it on
his head, in what he considered to be a jaunty angle. He rummaged further
and discovered he kit contained an oversized bull whip, a shrunken and
battered leather jacket that would just fit him at a squeeze and a small
'decoy' bag of sand; handy for disabling traps. There was also a satchel,
already containing various devices like old fashioned compasses, a
Ferengi divinator (guarenteed to detect latinum at 10 paces!) and
minature tools like ice picks and trowels.
Zim grabbed the bag and stuffed a couple of vials of his medicine in
before swinging the tight leather jacket on. He gathered a tricorder that
he hoped worked too. He decided to leave the whip, what with it being
over twice the length of him and being hugely impractical. Zim had no
idea why that would be part of any self respecting treasure hunter's kit.
It'd make him look like he was compensating for something.
"More or less ready. Just one or two things to a...a....ATCHOO!" Zim
sniffed, "..attend to."
=^=infirmary =^=
François didn't stay on the ship very long since he wanted to save
himself from explaining who is love one was. How explain to his captain
that in his dream she was the mother of his child that he actually
received everything he needed from her. No, it was clear now, he had what
he wanted without having to feel rejected or to go through the hassle of
federation law. There, it didn't matter, actually in his future it didn't
matter. He had to get is stuff ready that meant delegating the shop, the
association and the infirmary. He was sure that Vivianne would love the
shop. Mike, once the mission on Caly over could take control of the
infirmary and Sybil love the station enough to get the association on
it's way.
He came in his office with passion and almost anger, no dream meant a
boring life witch meant no love and no priceless moment. The staff look
at him almost amaze that he was back to work so energetic. The first
thing was to get the bodies beam back on their ship, second starting to
fill the reports, Vivianne haven't done a third of them, what was she
paid for anyway. As he took a large coffee and started to work.
"Good to have you back doctor" one nurse said passing by.
What the hell was she implying, he was here all along. He realise he
would have alot to deal with in four days. He needed to delegate, needed
for everyone to get working a bit extra time. Vivianne came in with a
smile...
"Vivianne call a staff meeting, we need to organise ourselves" not
raising his head.
"Yes sir" she felt almost happy to hear him take charge again.
As she gather everyone around, he took a few sips of coffee and got into
the main infirmary. As he started his speech he was serious and his tone
was stressful. Witch was quite a