Finally caught up starting with post# 229, I let my stories get away from me, but I'm glad I've come back. We're starting to get some answers, but my oh my, they're not easy ones.
USS Kestrel - Hunting Grounds
- Thread starter mirandafave
- Start date
Glad to have you back at that milo bloom. And I think that you will find the next instalment you have to read will provide more answers and even less easy ones at that.
Dnoth, thank you for reading. Yes, personal history aboard the Kestrel does seem to have rather messy and complicated consequences for the crew.
More coming soon, when we see just what is happening on the Stallion and following on from the 'Into the Dark' chapter hope for T'Vel's (and the others) best.
Well, then - I await (im)patiently for your next installment. 
Your wish is my command. Here's the next instalment. In a slight revision, I am joining this instalment to the last to make one whole chapter under the title 'Dissenting Voices'.
* * *
Dissenting Voices
Stallion One
“I am not T’Vel.”
Leoni frowned at the Vulcan, deeply troubled at her fierce angry demeanour. “Lt. Commander T’Vel?”
The Vulcan sneered, “I am not T’Vel!” The Vulcan’s speech seemed almost a hiss.
The situation seemed so surreal, Leoni had to look upon the fallen figure of Keren to begin to believe this was really happening. The Trill struggled to process these events as she took in the still Andorian even as her past lives told her this was very real, very dangerous. “I don’t understand.”
“You need not understand. You need only to unclamp the locks and fly this vessel away.” The Vulcan’s eyes bulged manically as she commanded, “Now!”
A sound filled the interior. A transport beam started materialising within. It coalesced into the form of Commander Molly Cartwright with her phaser raised.
The Commander’s face was a mix of concern and anger. “Stop T’Vel.”
But the Vulcan moved swiftly and grabbed the arm of the commander wrenching it back painfully causing Molly to drop the phaser. Before Jex could capitalise on the movement T’Vel stuck her carbine into the side of Cartwright. “Do as I say or the Commander is dead.”
Jex turned and started the de-docking procedures. Molly protested, “Don’t do it Ensign. Ow!” Molly winced visibly as her arm was twisted high up behind.
“She will do it.” T’Vel hissed into the commander’s ear but locked eyes on the ensign.
Keeping her eyes on T’Vel and her hostage, Leoni lowered herself into the pilot seat. She looked from the crazed Vulcan’s face to the pained and defeated Cartwright who tried to shake her head, trying to convince Leoni to not follow through the orders. But Leoni recognised the eyes of a killer. She knew that if she defied T’Vel the Vulcan would not hesitate to kill Commander Cartwright. Leoni knew too that the T’Vel might kill them even if she complied. She could only but hope for time and an opportunity to make sense of the madness. Jex offered a silent, helpless and apologetic shrug to Cartwright as she pulled her knees in under the piloting console and started the engines up.
The Stallion rumbled with the abrupt take off. Molly tried to take the moment of off balance to tackle the Vulcan. The struggle was brief as the Vulcan’s strength subdued Molly easily but brutally. T’Vel’s hand struck the Commander forcibly sending Molly against the bulkhead before she grabbed Molly’s hair roughly in her hand. “I will kill you if you do not comply Cartwright.”
The Stallion suddenly pitched as a blinding light and a momentary flicker of power in the Stallion made it seem as if it dropped out of the sky.
T’Vel threatened, “Try no more tricks.”
Leoni called out frantic as she consulted her console. “It wasn’t me! It was an EM pulse.”
T’Vel paid the answer no heed. “Take us to warp.”
“Wait!” Leoni exclaimed in panic from her pilot seat. “We need to outrun the effects of the rat-trap first.” The Vulcan woman glared at her but took it at face value that the Trill spoke the truth.
The moment allowed Jex to steal her nerves and find her calm. Leoni allowed herself to lean on the symbiont, its mettle, its experiences and memories to bulwark herself. The Trill host was buoyed by the reassurance and the strength she could draw from the symbiont. Now she had to try and think of a means of escape or a means to stop the Lt. Commander.
The Vulcan meantime shoved Molly against the side, pushing her down into one of the seats. Using the straps she tore from the adjacent seat T’Vel tied the commander down and into it. Molly protested the whole while. “T’Vel you can’t do this. Captain McGregor will not allow it. You will not get away with it. You can’t do this. Listen to me T’Vel. McGregor will come after you. He’ll stop you. Where do you think you can escape to? T’Vel! T’Vel, listen to my voice.”
T’Vel swung her arm to slap Molly’s face hard. Very hard. Blood pooled at the corner of Molly’s mouth from the strike. The Commander blinked away stars and her eyes rolled in her head as she reeled from the blow. The Vulcan stood over Molly coldly.
“I will not repeat myself again. I. Am. Not. T’Vel.” She grabbed Molly’s hair, her tight bun now in disarray. Molly winced from the pain that seemed tenfold from the blow. “T’Vel is lost to you. I am T’Kas.”
Jex blurted out, “Who?”
“No one! Just the mad ramblings of...”
T’Vel, now calling herself T’Kas, grasped Molly’s mouth, squeezing it shut, clamping down. “I am no mad rambling. This you know Commander.” She changed her voice to a cloying, slickly taunt. “Molly.” She pushed Molly’s head back sharply, slapping it hard against the neck brace. She turned to face the Trill. “I am the High Priestess T’Kas. My katra has lain trapped within this pathetic and fragile mind. I am now free. Free of the one you call T’Vel. Free and ...” she levelled the carbine towards the Trill, “the one in control.”
T’Vel, T’Kas, then looked upon her hands, twitching her fingers, flexing the muscles of the hands and arms, testing them, probing her control over the body she now possessed fully. A smile spread on her face as a mad look gleamed in her eyes. She flashed a dangerous look at the ensign.
Leoni flinched under the scrutiny. It served to make the madness and smile grow.
Restrained in the seat, Molly goaded T’Kas. “If that mind is so weak and pathetic, then how come she has managed to contain you? How come the fragile T’Vel has managed to lock you up, keep you boxed in? You, the mighty High Priestess T’Kas!”
“You mock? Or do you seek to taunt me? A truly pathetic attempt to bait me, Molly.” She sauntered up to the Commander, her body moved almost seductively. Her mouth came close to Molly’s as her fingers stroked the Commander’s face. “I am above such petty tactics. I am so much more than the one you knew as T’Vel. She did not contain me. She used her precious vials of medicine to suppress me. Without them, she is unable to stop me.”
The console chirped a warning. Leoni’s eyes went wide as she took in the pursuit of another Stallion. The Vulcan’s head whipped round at the alarm and started forwards. Panicking, Jex had to think of a way to stall and distract the Vulcan. She decided to feed into the comments from Cartwright. “Who is T’Kas?”
“I am T’Kas. A High Priestess of Vulcan, you ignorant fool. The commander and the captain seek to protect T’Vel by keeping the truth about me secret. It matters not anymore. I am T’Kas and I am free.”
“Huh. You call yourself a High Priestess and yet you are no Vulcan.” Molly spat a glob of blood and spittle onto the deck.
T’Vel sneered as she looked back at Molly. “More baiting Commander?”
Molly pushed against her restraints, as she leaned forwards to rile the Vulcan. “You claim to be a High Priestess, a true adept, yet you cannot control your emotions. You show no discipline. T’Vel is a hundred times the Vulcan you are.”
Angrily snapping, T’Vel raced forwards and hit Molly with the back of her hand. “You think me weak? I am not constrained by the petty teachings of Surak. My research revealed to me the true might and ability of the Vulcan mind. Our true potential when not tied and bound by strictures. My disciples understood my call. They understood my calling to make the Vulcan character even greater than the shackled people we have become.”
Leoni shook her head. “This makes no sense!”
“It makes no sense Ensign because this woman is a deranged lunatic. A shadow of a Vulcan. A perversion of a Vulcan. She is a maddened witch, send mad by the effects of the Wash, so demented even her ‘disciples’ turned on her, cutting her down.” Molly turned from soeaking to Jex to address T’Vel directly. She spat venomously, “They sliced your belly open and spilled out your putrid guts.”
T’Vel grabbed Molly by the throat, starting to choke the life out of her. T’Vel screamed with her spittle flecking Molly’s reddening face. “DO. NOT. SPEAK. OF. IT.”
“No!” Jex rushed forward, slapping the controls of the Stallion into a mad spin as the Stallion dropped out of warp. The Trill charged at the off balanced Vulcan hitting into her hard. Only for Leoni’s amour did her charge have enough of an impact to dislodge the grip of T’Vel from around Molly’s throat. They fell back in the Stallion as it pirouetted through space.
They scrabbled on the deck but T’Vel’s Vulcan strength quickly started to assert itself over Jex’s struggles. “You fail to understand. You will die. All who will oppose me will die. All will die!”
“Lt. Commander T’Vel! Please! I know you are in there.” Jex pleaded. Molly pushed against her restraints as she watched the two of them wrestle in the wildly careening Stallion. “Listen to me. This T’Kas is ... but .... one ... voice. Your’s ... is ... the voice. You ... can ... control it. You can.”
T’Vel stopped wrestling, pressing down on Jex’s limbs. Her eyes bore into Leoni’s. “You foolish girl. You think to reach T’Vel. She is dead. I am in control.”
“No!” Jex fought back as hard as she could, wriggling from under her hold. “I understand how difficult it can be T’Vel. Not in the same way but in a way. I am Leoni. I am Jex. I am Deodzi. I am all of the others. All of their voices, all of their minds, I can hear in my head. But it is MY mind. MY mind, not theirs. MY life. Not theirs.”
The Vulcan seethed with rage. She slapped Jex harshly. “Shut up! You cannot understand. This mind and this body are mine.”
Jex used the slap to free herself further and kicked the Vulcan in the chest. It served to push the Vulcan loose but she was immediately on top of her again. But Jex kicked out again. Her foot contacting with the Vulcan’s chin. She reared up and fell back heavily as the ship dipped and spiralled. Rolling on to her side, Jex grabbed a seat to steady herself. Then hauling herself by the straps onto her feet, Jex launched herself at T’Vel before she could recover.
Tripping on the body of Keren, they both tumbled over, rolling towards the cockpit. Jex threw her elbow back, smashing it into the Vulcan’s nose. T’Vel’s head snapped back and she fell backwards. Jex got to her feet and brought the Stallion to a stop. Throwing herself atop of T’Vel, Jex grabbed a chain from around her neck by accident, losing her grip and falling away from the Vulcan. The chain pulled at T’Vel’s neck before breaking.
The Vulcan roared and rolled atop of Jex. She clamped her hands down on the Trill’s wrist, bracing them against the deck. The chain in Jex’s grip glimmered in the light catching the Vulcan’s eye. T’Vel stopped suddenly. A voice broke through, that sounded desperate and broken, but more recognisably that of T’Vel’s. “Seleya!” Her voice seemed to grasp on the word and the mad façade seemed to slip for a second.
But the mad witch returned quickly. “You will die!”
“Please! T’Vel. You can control her. You are in control T’Vel.”
“You are wrong.” T’Vel now grabbed Jex and started choking her.
The Trill squeaked out, “T’Vel...”
Molly vainly pushed and pulled at the restraints. She implored, “T’Vel, think of Ronak. Think of your son. Think of him. He is of you. Not this mad woman. Think of him T’Vel. Think of Vulcan. Think of ShiKahr! Think of your home T’Vel.”
“You are wrong!” Her baleful eyes caught sight of the IDIC held on the chain in Jex’s hand. Her features seemed conflicted, twisting from a heinous anger to a despairing struggle. “You are wrong.” She let go off Jex. The Trill coughed for breath. T’Vel twisted from sitting astride the Trill and met Molly’s eyes. “You ... are ... wrong. Kestrel.” She struggled to get the words out, the struggle plain on her face. Pain etched the lines on her face. Perspiration beaded her knotted brow. “Kestrel is my home.”
Molly smiled.
A transporter whine filled the room. T’Vel’s features turned ugly once more, as the forms of McGregor, Zeus and Dexter surrounding her, their weapons trained upon her.
Molly ignored their appearance but appealed to the Vulcan. “T’Vel! Think of your home. Think of Kestrel. Think of Ronak there. Don’t let her win.”
The madness came back to her eyes as T’Vel declared, “You are too late. I will not be suppressed. I will not go away. I am free. You cannot stop me.”
McGregor addressed her with a tight voice simply saying, “Vel.”
T’Vel stood centre in the Stallion. “I am T’Kas.”
Zeus declared using his carbine to underscore his command, “You are ordered to stand down.”
T’Vel cast him a withering scornful look. “You dare to command me.”
“Vel.” Her head whipped round from Zeus to McGregor, her eyes widening in recognition of the man and in venomous hatred.
“McGregor! You know I speak the truth. All will die.”
“Not today Vel. Not today.”
“I am T’Kas! You cannot stop me.” She charged at McGregor roaring murderously, “All will dieeee!”
Without a hesitation, Dexter fired four consecutive bursts from his carbine until he felled the Vulcan. He stepped up to her fallen body and over it said, “Live long and prosper, bitch.”
* * *
Dissenting Voices
Stallion One
“I am not T’Vel.”
Leoni frowned at the Vulcan, deeply troubled at her fierce angry demeanour. “Lt. Commander T’Vel?”
The Vulcan sneered, “I am not T’Vel!” The Vulcan’s speech seemed almost a hiss.
The situation seemed so surreal, Leoni had to look upon the fallen figure of Keren to begin to believe this was really happening. The Trill struggled to process these events as she took in the still Andorian even as her past lives told her this was very real, very dangerous. “I don’t understand.”
“You need not understand. You need only to unclamp the locks and fly this vessel away.” The Vulcan’s eyes bulged manically as she commanded, “Now!”
A sound filled the interior. A transport beam started materialising within. It coalesced into the form of Commander Molly Cartwright with her phaser raised.
The Commander’s face was a mix of concern and anger. “Stop T’Vel.”
But the Vulcan moved swiftly and grabbed the arm of the commander wrenching it back painfully causing Molly to drop the phaser. Before Jex could capitalise on the movement T’Vel stuck her carbine into the side of Cartwright. “Do as I say or the Commander is dead.”
Jex turned and started the de-docking procedures. Molly protested, “Don’t do it Ensign. Ow!” Molly winced visibly as her arm was twisted high up behind.
“She will do it.” T’Vel hissed into the commander’s ear but locked eyes on the ensign.
Keeping her eyes on T’Vel and her hostage, Leoni lowered herself into the pilot seat. She looked from the crazed Vulcan’s face to the pained and defeated Cartwright who tried to shake her head, trying to convince Leoni to not follow through the orders. But Leoni recognised the eyes of a killer. She knew that if she defied T’Vel the Vulcan would not hesitate to kill Commander Cartwright. Leoni knew too that the T’Vel might kill them even if she complied. She could only but hope for time and an opportunity to make sense of the madness. Jex offered a silent, helpless and apologetic shrug to Cartwright as she pulled her knees in under the piloting console and started the engines up.
The Stallion rumbled with the abrupt take off. Molly tried to take the moment of off balance to tackle the Vulcan. The struggle was brief as the Vulcan’s strength subdued Molly easily but brutally. T’Vel’s hand struck the Commander forcibly sending Molly against the bulkhead before she grabbed Molly’s hair roughly in her hand. “I will kill you if you do not comply Cartwright.”
The Stallion suddenly pitched as a blinding light and a momentary flicker of power in the Stallion made it seem as if it dropped out of the sky.
T’Vel threatened, “Try no more tricks.”
Leoni called out frantic as she consulted her console. “It wasn’t me! It was an EM pulse.”
T’Vel paid the answer no heed. “Take us to warp.”
“Wait!” Leoni exclaimed in panic from her pilot seat. “We need to outrun the effects of the rat-trap first.” The Vulcan woman glared at her but took it at face value that the Trill spoke the truth.
The moment allowed Jex to steal her nerves and find her calm. Leoni allowed herself to lean on the symbiont, its mettle, its experiences and memories to bulwark herself. The Trill host was buoyed by the reassurance and the strength she could draw from the symbiont. Now she had to try and think of a means of escape or a means to stop the Lt. Commander.
The Vulcan meantime shoved Molly against the side, pushing her down into one of the seats. Using the straps she tore from the adjacent seat T’Vel tied the commander down and into it. Molly protested the whole while. “T’Vel you can’t do this. Captain McGregor will not allow it. You will not get away with it. You can’t do this. Listen to me T’Vel. McGregor will come after you. He’ll stop you. Where do you think you can escape to? T’Vel! T’Vel, listen to my voice.”
T’Vel swung her arm to slap Molly’s face hard. Very hard. Blood pooled at the corner of Molly’s mouth from the strike. The Commander blinked away stars and her eyes rolled in her head as she reeled from the blow. The Vulcan stood over Molly coldly.
“I will not repeat myself again. I. Am. Not. T’Vel.” She grabbed Molly’s hair, her tight bun now in disarray. Molly winced from the pain that seemed tenfold from the blow. “T’Vel is lost to you. I am T’Kas.”
Jex blurted out, “Who?”
“No one! Just the mad ramblings of...”
T’Vel, now calling herself T’Kas, grasped Molly’s mouth, squeezing it shut, clamping down. “I am no mad rambling. This you know Commander.” She changed her voice to a cloying, slickly taunt. “Molly.” She pushed Molly’s head back sharply, slapping it hard against the neck brace. She turned to face the Trill. “I am the High Priestess T’Kas. My katra has lain trapped within this pathetic and fragile mind. I am now free. Free of the one you call T’Vel. Free and ...” she levelled the carbine towards the Trill, “the one in control.”
T’Vel, T’Kas, then looked upon her hands, twitching her fingers, flexing the muscles of the hands and arms, testing them, probing her control over the body she now possessed fully. A smile spread on her face as a mad look gleamed in her eyes. She flashed a dangerous look at the ensign.
Leoni flinched under the scrutiny. It served to make the madness and smile grow.
Restrained in the seat, Molly goaded T’Kas. “If that mind is so weak and pathetic, then how come she has managed to contain you? How come the fragile T’Vel has managed to lock you up, keep you boxed in? You, the mighty High Priestess T’Kas!”
“You mock? Or do you seek to taunt me? A truly pathetic attempt to bait me, Molly.” She sauntered up to the Commander, her body moved almost seductively. Her mouth came close to Molly’s as her fingers stroked the Commander’s face. “I am above such petty tactics. I am so much more than the one you knew as T’Vel. She did not contain me. She used her precious vials of medicine to suppress me. Without them, she is unable to stop me.”
The console chirped a warning. Leoni’s eyes went wide as she took in the pursuit of another Stallion. The Vulcan’s head whipped round at the alarm and started forwards. Panicking, Jex had to think of a way to stall and distract the Vulcan. She decided to feed into the comments from Cartwright. “Who is T’Kas?”
“I am T’Kas. A High Priestess of Vulcan, you ignorant fool. The commander and the captain seek to protect T’Vel by keeping the truth about me secret. It matters not anymore. I am T’Kas and I am free.”
“Huh. You call yourself a High Priestess and yet you are no Vulcan.” Molly spat a glob of blood and spittle onto the deck.
T’Vel sneered as she looked back at Molly. “More baiting Commander?”
Molly pushed against her restraints, as she leaned forwards to rile the Vulcan. “You claim to be a High Priestess, a true adept, yet you cannot control your emotions. You show no discipline. T’Vel is a hundred times the Vulcan you are.”
Angrily snapping, T’Vel raced forwards and hit Molly with the back of her hand. “You think me weak? I am not constrained by the petty teachings of Surak. My research revealed to me the true might and ability of the Vulcan mind. Our true potential when not tied and bound by strictures. My disciples understood my call. They understood my calling to make the Vulcan character even greater than the shackled people we have become.”
Leoni shook her head. “This makes no sense!”
“It makes no sense Ensign because this woman is a deranged lunatic. A shadow of a Vulcan. A perversion of a Vulcan. She is a maddened witch, send mad by the effects of the Wash, so demented even her ‘disciples’ turned on her, cutting her down.” Molly turned from soeaking to Jex to address T’Vel directly. She spat venomously, “They sliced your belly open and spilled out your putrid guts.”
T’Vel grabbed Molly by the throat, starting to choke the life out of her. T’Vel screamed with her spittle flecking Molly’s reddening face. “DO. NOT. SPEAK. OF. IT.”
“No!” Jex rushed forward, slapping the controls of the Stallion into a mad spin as the Stallion dropped out of warp. The Trill charged at the off balanced Vulcan hitting into her hard. Only for Leoni’s amour did her charge have enough of an impact to dislodge the grip of T’Vel from around Molly’s throat. They fell back in the Stallion as it pirouetted through space.
They scrabbled on the deck but T’Vel’s Vulcan strength quickly started to assert itself over Jex’s struggles. “You fail to understand. You will die. All who will oppose me will die. All will die!”
“Lt. Commander T’Vel! Please! I know you are in there.” Jex pleaded. Molly pushed against her restraints as she watched the two of them wrestle in the wildly careening Stallion. “Listen to me. This T’Kas is ... but .... one ... voice. Your’s ... is ... the voice. You ... can ... control it. You can.”
T’Vel stopped wrestling, pressing down on Jex’s limbs. Her eyes bore into Leoni’s. “You foolish girl. You think to reach T’Vel. She is dead. I am in control.”
“No!” Jex fought back as hard as she could, wriggling from under her hold. “I understand how difficult it can be T’Vel. Not in the same way but in a way. I am Leoni. I am Jex. I am Deodzi. I am all of the others. All of their voices, all of their minds, I can hear in my head. But it is MY mind. MY mind, not theirs. MY life. Not theirs.”
The Vulcan seethed with rage. She slapped Jex harshly. “Shut up! You cannot understand. This mind and this body are mine.”
Jex used the slap to free herself further and kicked the Vulcan in the chest. It served to push the Vulcan loose but she was immediately on top of her again. But Jex kicked out again. Her foot contacting with the Vulcan’s chin. She reared up and fell back heavily as the ship dipped and spiralled. Rolling on to her side, Jex grabbed a seat to steady herself. Then hauling herself by the straps onto her feet, Jex launched herself at T’Vel before she could recover.
Tripping on the body of Keren, they both tumbled over, rolling towards the cockpit. Jex threw her elbow back, smashing it into the Vulcan’s nose. T’Vel’s head snapped back and she fell backwards. Jex got to her feet and brought the Stallion to a stop. Throwing herself atop of T’Vel, Jex grabbed a chain from around her neck by accident, losing her grip and falling away from the Vulcan. The chain pulled at T’Vel’s neck before breaking.
The Vulcan roared and rolled atop of Jex. She clamped her hands down on the Trill’s wrist, bracing them against the deck. The chain in Jex’s grip glimmered in the light catching the Vulcan’s eye. T’Vel stopped suddenly. A voice broke through, that sounded desperate and broken, but more recognisably that of T’Vel’s. “Seleya!” Her voice seemed to grasp on the word and the mad façade seemed to slip for a second.
But the mad witch returned quickly. “You will die!”
“Please! T’Vel. You can control her. You are in control T’Vel.”
“You are wrong.” T’Vel now grabbed Jex and started choking her.
The Trill squeaked out, “T’Vel...”
Molly vainly pushed and pulled at the restraints. She implored, “T’Vel, think of Ronak. Think of your son. Think of him. He is of you. Not this mad woman. Think of him T’Vel. Think of Vulcan. Think of ShiKahr! Think of your home T’Vel.”
“You are wrong!” Her baleful eyes caught sight of the IDIC held on the chain in Jex’s hand. Her features seemed conflicted, twisting from a heinous anger to a despairing struggle. “You are wrong.” She let go off Jex. The Trill coughed for breath. T’Vel twisted from sitting astride the Trill and met Molly’s eyes. “You ... are ... wrong. Kestrel.” She struggled to get the words out, the struggle plain on her face. Pain etched the lines on her face. Perspiration beaded her knotted brow. “Kestrel is my home.”
Molly smiled.
A transporter whine filled the room. T’Vel’s features turned ugly once more, as the forms of McGregor, Zeus and Dexter surrounding her, their weapons trained upon her.
Molly ignored their appearance but appealed to the Vulcan. “T’Vel! Think of your home. Think of Kestrel. Think of Ronak there. Don’t let her win.”
The madness came back to her eyes as T’Vel declared, “You are too late. I will not be suppressed. I will not go away. I am free. You cannot stop me.”
McGregor addressed her with a tight voice simply saying, “Vel.”
T’Vel stood centre in the Stallion. “I am T’Kas.”
Zeus declared using his carbine to underscore his command, “You are ordered to stand down.”
T’Vel cast him a withering scornful look. “You dare to command me.”
“Vel.” Her head whipped round from Zeus to McGregor, her eyes widening in recognition of the man and in venomous hatred.
“McGregor! You know I speak the truth. All will die.”
“Not today Vel. Not today.”
“I am T’Kas! You cannot stop me.” She charged at McGregor roaring murderously, “All will dieeee!”
Without a hesitation, Dexter fired four consecutive bursts from his carbine until he felled the Vulcan. He stepped up to her fallen body and over it said, “Live long and prosper, bitch.”
* * *
Wow! That was brutal! 
Poor T'Vel - even if she rids herself of T'Kas' katra, she will have a hard time dealing with this. At least Jex held things together long enough for McGregor & co. to arrive.
Oh, and “Live long and prosper, bitch” was just cold. Funny, but cold.
Poor T'Vel - even if she rids herself of T'Kas' katra, she will have a hard time dealing with this. At least Jex held things together long enough for McGregor & co. to arrive. Oh, and “Live long and prosper, bitch” was just cold. Funny, but cold.
Yeah it is a bit brutal of Dexter. You are right, for T'Vel the path ahead is going to be very difficult, but she hasn't had an easy life. Thanks for reading.
Wow. Wow, oh wow. Total drama and edge-of-the-seat anxiety with this one. T'Vel wasn't even here, for the most part, and yet I was filled with pity for her ... along with hatred for T'Kas.
I absolutely loved the comparison between Jex and T'Vel/T'Kas as far as having multiple personalities to "manage." They are busy girls! And Molly and McGregor's interactions with the Vulcan duo were great, as well. (Then someone had to step over Keren's body and I remembered how much I liked him. Darn!)
This was such a well-realized chapter. Can't wait for the next installment. Excellent stuff.
I absolutely loved the comparison between Jex and T'Vel/T'Kas as far as having multiple personalities to "manage." They are busy girls! And Molly and McGregor's interactions with the Vulcan duo were great, as well. (Then someone had to step over Keren's body and I remembered how much I liked him. Darn!)
This was such a well-realized chapter. Can't wait for the next installment. Excellent stuff.
Thank you very much kes. Yeah T'Vel and Jex both have a busy mental life. And I do imagine that for a Joined Trill there has to be a lot going on in their head. A whole lot.
Of course, there's a LOT going on for them both. And here especially with T'Vel we have the dire consequences of what has happened. I'm just glad that T'Kas didn't make you lose sight of the pity for T'Vel.
More soon. I hope by the end of the day actually.
And I do imagine that for a Joined Trill there has to be a lot going on in their head. A whole lot. Of course, there's a LOT going on for them both. And here especially with T'Vel we have the dire consequences of what has happened. I'm just glad that T'Kas didn't make you lose sight of the pity for T'Vel.
More soon. I hope by the end of the day actually.
Kestrel: Hunting Grounds - After Care
Main Engineering, USS Kestrel
“Gardner?”
The chief turned round from looking upon the pulsating beating heart of the Kestrel to see the rather grumpy face of McGregor. “Captain? You look like crap.”
“Why thank ye, Eddie. Cheers me up no end. What way is she?” McGregor looked up forlornly at the warp core and patted the intermix reaction chamber. It might have seemed as if he were soothing the ship or petting a favourite pet, or as Eddie guessed, apologising to the ole bird for hitting it with a rat-trap.
Gardner let out a wearied sigh and scratched his beard. “Well I’ve gotten her back up and running. I know it meant abandoning the Sprite to that hack Berkley but I didn’t trust anyone else with starting the Kestrel back up. She’s tinkering fine. The start up was a bit tricky but I gotta hand it to the kid at Ops, he shut things down swiftly but he didn’t do too much of a hatchet job. I’ll consider letting Cutler play that hand of poker after all. Had he screwed the engines up ...” Handing a padd to McGregor for inspection, he filled the captain in on the ship’s status.
“And the Sprite?”
Despite the hack comment, Gardner confidently replied, “Berkley has it in hand. I can spare him a few people now I’m done here.”
“No. Don’t bother. Just secure its systems and environmental controls. We have a cutter en route to meet with us to pick up the refugees and take the crew into custody. I want to be able to take it under tow.” He put his hands on his hips as he planted his feet to ground himself. “Honestly, I want to eject their core and leave Thaddeus to rot in the cold of space. But Molly says otherwise.”
“Yeah?”
McGregor gave him a hard look but Eddie answered with his own hangdog expression. “Yeah. And a whole lot other besides. But Thaddeus’ hand was forced in the matter. He eventually relented to tell us that T’Hos is the operator behind it all.”
“What’ll that mean for Thaddeus?”
“Oh please Eddie, don’t tell me you are going to plead his case. With those sad eyes you make a lousy lawyer.” Gardner shrugged to that. “We’ll see what more information Rah can ‘scare’ from him. If it proves useful it might be enough to get him a more lenient sentence.”
“T’Hos will have him killed.”
“T’Hos will kill him for getting captured in the first place!” More softly he added, “I got on to a few friends, they’re sending people to check his family out.”
Concern laced Gardner’s gravelly voice. “I thought he said they had his family under duress.”
“He did.” McGregor met Gardner’s eyes and the accusing look he held there. “What do you want of me Gardner? It’s not as though Thaddeus isn’t a proven liar.”
Eddie chewed his inner cheek, seeking an answer that might convince his captain. He shrugged. “Just, it’s his family, is all I’m saying.”
Under his breath, McGregor complained. “Damn you to hell Eddie. You don’t think having Molly and Judy as my conscience is enough?”
Shrugging, Eddie demurred giving any eloquent response. “It’s family.”
They locked eyes, staring deep into the soul of the other. The connotations of family ran deep for both men. For McGregor the family he never had and for Eddie the family he screwed up and lost.
McGregor sighed deeply. “I’ve a couple of hours yet. I’ll think of something. I’ve got contacts out and Faraday has to check in on the bigger picture.”
Eddie looked about, lest anyone were listening, before leaning in to ask, “How did things go down?”
“Honestly, I don’t know yet. I haven’t had the time. And I wanted to keep communications silence in order to keep a lid on Thaddeus’ capture. But we served up the competitors to T’Hos and the operations of T’Hos’ organisation to Faraday and Echo Station. The strikes, searches and hauls were coordinated on a mass scale; we even brought in some Fleet to assist. We’ll have made a whole heap of arrests and made a significant dent in the criminal underworld organisation in this sector.” He continued more to himself, “Maybe enough to make a lasting change and difference.”
“Not bad for a day’s work.”
“It ain’t over yet. I might have something for you to do later.” Eddie was intrigued as he saw McGregor was thinking things up. McGregor, however, gave him no pause to ask as he probed of the engineer, “The bomb?”
Walking into his office, Eddie patted a reinforced security silver box. “Neutralised. We removed it from the Sprite. The power cell is dead and it’s been rendered safe. I’ve it in this for safe keeping.” McGregor snapped open the box and stared down at the small cylindrical device. Eddie continued as the captain looked down on the seemingly innocuous cigar sized object. “I was waiting for Mila or Rah to come collect this.” McGregor picked it up, looking at it thoughtfully. “Captain?”
“Huh? Nothing.” He shook his head and set the device back in its secure place. “Just looking. No evidence on it as to who planted it?”
Eddie pouted. “Submino ran some spectral scans, nadda turned up.”
“Just as I expected.”
Gardner’s voice grew grim and quiet, even in the privacy of his disarrayed office with strewn padds, tools, smaller spare parts, and pieces of computer console circuitry. “You think someone from within did this?” A surprised look crossed McGregor’s face. “What? Did you think the rest of us don’t talk among ourselves? That we don’t wonder what the hell is going on too?”
McGregor shook his head sadly. “Eddie.”
“I ain’t asking you to reveal anything. Just try to trust us. Trust me. Trust Molly.” He shrugged again, signalling he was moving off the topic. His new choice of topic was no less awkward. “What went down on the Stallion?”
McGregor looked through his eyebrows at Gardner before reluctantly responding. “Vel’s in sickbay, sedated – heavily sedated. Monroe’s pushed for time with the refugees but that’s the best thing for her apparently. Time will let her blood chemistry rebalance. The hypo for the radiation counter acted her meds and T’Kas reared her ugly head.”
“We got lucky then.”
“That we did. Your ensign, the slug, she did good. Molly was singing her praises. She helped to put a stop to T’Kas. If it hadn’t been for her, things could have been pretty ugly.”
“Yeah. She’s a great engineer.”
McGregor caught the intended barb. “She handled herself in the Op too. Rah gave a good report on her actions. So don’t lecture me Eddie.”
“I wouldn’t presume to.”
“Good, cos I’ve had Molly in one ear and more than enough from Caleb.”
Gardner shrugged. “You can’t expect anything less of him, considering the last time.”
McGregor’s mood was dark. “I don’t expect anything of him, except to do his duty and to show a bit of damned loyalty.”
“You two had a spat?”
McGregor frowned. He absently rubbed the knuckles of his right hand. “You’re not going to get all marriage counsellor on me Eddie are you?”
“Huh. I think me acting as a marriage counsellor would be a little rich. But take it from me, don’t let things fester between you two. Facing down T’Hos you are going to need your head of security.”
“Who said anything about facing down T’Hos?”
Eddie met his eyes with a ‘who are you kidding’ look. “I know you by now McGregor. Well, as best one can know someone like you. But with whatever schemes or plans you got swirling around in that cracked head of yours, remember you’ll need the rest of us to carry it off. Like you said, loyalty, but just remember it cuts both ways.”
Scowling, McGregor gave out. “You know you are right royal pain in my ass Gardner?”
This brought a smirk to Eddie’s sour countenance. “You gotta give me credit for consistency.”
Medical Bay, USS Kestrel
“Will he be ok doctor?” Monroe didn’t look up at Jex as she studied the bruises on the Trill’s torso and felt for any cracked ribs.
The doctor of course knew that she referred to the Andorian laying on his bio-bed being carefully monitored by CH'shan. The Rigellean nurse was being very attentive to the patient. Meanwhile, Keren’s Shen, Mejal, tried to refrain from assisting after Judy had told her to back off.
The Rigellean chief nurse turned to survey the main examination room keeping a close eye on all the personnel and patients. A calm busy air within the medical bay replaced the hectic chaos of the earlier emergency. The calm had been restored thanks to the authoritative airs of Monroe and CH'shan.
Monroe soothingly explained to Jex, “As I said to Mejal, and I’m saying again to you, Keren will be fine. Given a little time. The armour suit protected him from the brunt of the blast.”
“I guess.”Jex couldn’t help but think of their easy, carefree banter before he was gunned down by T’Vel. It seemed like so long ago now. Had that really been the same Leoni that had found herself inadvertently flirting with, inadvertently being attracted to the Andorian?
“You can pull down your tunic. You’re clean.” Monroe took off the latex gloves and tossed them in the bio waste bin. “Sorry ensign it took so long to get to you.”
Jex looked around at the filled medical bay with the thirty odd rescued slaves on drips and under medical surveillance. “That’s perfectly fine. You had your hands full here.” She gave a glance over at the bio-bed where T’Vel lay sedated and under the watchful eyes of a two man security guard.
Judy noticed direction of the concerned look. “Don’t worry about the Lt. Commander. She’ll be fine too, given a little time.” Judy went on to add, “I know it must have been distressing and it must be difficult to understand what happened, but T’Vel will be fine ... and she is a good person.”
The kindness and the concern in the doctor’s voice was clear to hear for Jex. She felt compelled to show a degree of compassion in return. “I can understand some.”
Judy looked up surprised at the response. “You can?”
“I’m a joined Trill. I’ve had lifetimes of experience and so the memories of many lives. I’ve seen lots of things – in this universe and in the lives of others. I balance all that knowledge in my head, within the symbiont, it’s a weird jumbling swirling thing to try and put into words for a non-joined Trill. But I can understand how ... voices can ...”
“T’Kas is no voice.” Molly declared by their side suddenly.
Judy suddenly stiffened defensively. “Molly? You’re back?”
“Checking in.” She looked over at T’Vel’s sleeping form cagily. “I’ve to head back to the bridge. Got an update for the Captain?”
“Mejal?” Monroe got the attention of the distracted medic who flushed a deeper blue. “Would you get the update for the Commander?”
Molly ploughed on speaking to Jex. “T’Kas is no voice. She is the katra of a wicked woman who tried to possess T’Vel’s mind years ago.”
Judy warned in her own quiet manner. “Molly. That’s privileged information.”
Molly’s retort was pointed. “It isn’t privileged information when you’ve been held to gunpoint by said woman, Judy. I think the ensign is well aware that all is not right. Perhaps it might be best if we stopped trying to keep it a secret. If everyone had been in the know, then T’Vel would not have been treated with the hypo by Harris.”
“Let’s not do the blame game Molly.” Judy remained calm but delivered her words clearly. “I am the Chief Medical Officer. If that’s the case, then I’m at fault for not directing Harris so.”
Molly rejoined quickly without thought, “Well perhaps ...” she caught herself in time and changed tone, “no ... you had your hands full.”
Nevertheless, the biting tone and near accusation had cut at Judy. “That I’m fully aware of Commander Cartwright.” She snapped the padd from Mejal and sharply pushed it into the hands of Molly. “Here’s your update.”
Molly went to apologise but Judy didn’t have the time or the inclination for it. “The rescued slaves that have been treated are being housed in temporary accommodation. A number will need to remain here for careful observation. Gunny and Keren are also being kept for further observation and treatment. Ensign Jex is being released, you Commander have been given a clear bill of health and I am keeping Lt. Commander T’Vel sedated until further notice. You can get back to the bridge now. I’ve things to attend to down here. You’re free to go too ensign. Get some food and get some rest.” Judy stalked off to check the vitals of one of the rescued slaves at that and confer with her trusted right hand, CH'shan.
Jex slipped down off the bio-bed, refraining from wincing from the bruises. Monroe did not like to dish out medical cure alls for minor ailments it seemed but liked for the crew to endure a little pain and simple pain relief measures.
Molly was looking between Judy and T’Vel, the concern etched on her face. “You’re excused ensign. You may as well get out of this place.” The two of them fell into step with one another as they walked out of the medical bay.
They both marched in silence. Molly’s silence carried an angered air and Jex walked on silently, unsure of what to say. Finally, she ventured as they neared parting ways. “Commander? About Lt. Commander T’Vel.”
Molly stopped in her tracks. “It’s a long story ensign.”
“I get that. I only wanted to say, I dunno, I guess, well it must be ... it must be hard for her and it must be hard for her friends too, especially, when none can quite understand what she is going through, what she is battling.”
“Ensign ... Leoni, I appreciate that you can have some degree of understanding but...”
Leoni rushed to interrupt, emboldened in the moment. “Well I can. And I know how much I appreciated the friends who stuck by me after I was Joined. I don’t imagine that I changed much after joining with Jex but I guess it is only natural that I would change some, that I would be different. So ... well I had friends who stopped being my friends afterwards. They couldn’t understand it and they couldn’t accept it. Maybe they just didn’t like the changes in me. But the few that stayed friendly with me, I value their friendship for that. And for those, like Noah, who befriended me afterwards, who accepted who I am, even though they don’t quite understand what it is that I am.”
Molly pulled her famous bumblebee chewing face. “You get that you’re an ensign and I’m a commander and that this pep talk is all screwy.”
“I do. And I blame the hundreds year old symbiont in me for being so brazen about it.” Her Trill spots seemed more prominent as she blushed in embarrassment.
Molly’s face fell from the scowl into a reluctant thin smile. “Blaming it on the slug is a handy get out of jail free card.” Jex shrugged innocently. Molly reluctantly continued, “I suppose it has to come with some wisdom. I get what you are saying. It’s all a little raw and a painful reminder of things past. But it’ll be fine. Thanks for the sage advice.”
Jex needled in return, “The ‘slug’ is happy to help.”
“Blame McGregor for the word slip.” Jex’s mouth opened in an understanding ‘O’ shape. “I gotta get back to the bridge. You’ll have a debriefing about the SARAH later today. And then no doubt when everyone has settled down, I’m sure there’ll be a bit of a hoopla as per usual. So get some food and rest as Monroe prescribed. You’ll need it. You’ll only think the bruises hurt till the headache tomorrow. And ensign ... Leoni, it would be remiss of me to not say thank you for everything you did today. You probably saved both our lives and helped to bring back T’Vel too.”
Leoni blushed again. “Thank you.”
Molly nodded her head in dismissal and headed for the stairs. She stopped and called back, “Oh. If, no when, the party starts later tonight, be sure to take your friend Noah for some well deserved drinks. He did good today. No, he damned bloody great.”
“I will.”
“Be sure to. We have to be thankful for our friends after all.” They answered one another with a smile and headed in opposite directions.
After Care
Main Engineering, USS Kestrel
“Gardner?”
The chief turned round from looking upon the pulsating beating heart of the Kestrel to see the rather grumpy face of McGregor. “Captain? You look like crap.”
“Why thank ye, Eddie. Cheers me up no end. What way is she?” McGregor looked up forlornly at the warp core and patted the intermix reaction chamber. It might have seemed as if he were soothing the ship or petting a favourite pet, or as Eddie guessed, apologising to the ole bird for hitting it with a rat-trap.
Gardner let out a wearied sigh and scratched his beard. “Well I’ve gotten her back up and running. I know it meant abandoning the Sprite to that hack Berkley but I didn’t trust anyone else with starting the Kestrel back up. She’s tinkering fine. The start up was a bit tricky but I gotta hand it to the kid at Ops, he shut things down swiftly but he didn’t do too much of a hatchet job. I’ll consider letting Cutler play that hand of poker after all. Had he screwed the engines up ...” Handing a padd to McGregor for inspection, he filled the captain in on the ship’s status.
“And the Sprite?”
Despite the hack comment, Gardner confidently replied, “Berkley has it in hand. I can spare him a few people now I’m done here.”
“No. Don’t bother. Just secure its systems and environmental controls. We have a cutter en route to meet with us to pick up the refugees and take the crew into custody. I want to be able to take it under tow.” He put his hands on his hips as he planted his feet to ground himself. “Honestly, I want to eject their core and leave Thaddeus to rot in the cold of space. But Molly says otherwise.”
“Yeah?”
McGregor gave him a hard look but Eddie answered with his own hangdog expression. “Yeah. And a whole lot other besides. But Thaddeus’ hand was forced in the matter. He eventually relented to tell us that T’Hos is the operator behind it all.”
“What’ll that mean for Thaddeus?”
“Oh please Eddie, don’t tell me you are going to plead his case. With those sad eyes you make a lousy lawyer.” Gardner shrugged to that. “We’ll see what more information Rah can ‘scare’ from him. If it proves useful it might be enough to get him a more lenient sentence.”
“T’Hos will have him killed.”
“T’Hos will kill him for getting captured in the first place!” More softly he added, “I got on to a few friends, they’re sending people to check his family out.”
Concern laced Gardner’s gravelly voice. “I thought he said they had his family under duress.”
“He did.” McGregor met Gardner’s eyes and the accusing look he held there. “What do you want of me Gardner? It’s not as though Thaddeus isn’t a proven liar.”
Eddie chewed his inner cheek, seeking an answer that might convince his captain. He shrugged. “Just, it’s his family, is all I’m saying.”
Under his breath, McGregor complained. “Damn you to hell Eddie. You don’t think having Molly and Judy as my conscience is enough?”
Shrugging, Eddie demurred giving any eloquent response. “It’s family.”
They locked eyes, staring deep into the soul of the other. The connotations of family ran deep for both men. For McGregor the family he never had and for Eddie the family he screwed up and lost.
McGregor sighed deeply. “I’ve a couple of hours yet. I’ll think of something. I’ve got contacts out and Faraday has to check in on the bigger picture.”
Eddie looked about, lest anyone were listening, before leaning in to ask, “How did things go down?”
“Honestly, I don’t know yet. I haven’t had the time. And I wanted to keep communications silence in order to keep a lid on Thaddeus’ capture. But we served up the competitors to T’Hos and the operations of T’Hos’ organisation to Faraday and Echo Station. The strikes, searches and hauls were coordinated on a mass scale; we even brought in some Fleet to assist. We’ll have made a whole heap of arrests and made a significant dent in the criminal underworld organisation in this sector.” He continued more to himself, “Maybe enough to make a lasting change and difference.”
“Not bad for a day’s work.”
“It ain’t over yet. I might have something for you to do later.” Eddie was intrigued as he saw McGregor was thinking things up. McGregor, however, gave him no pause to ask as he probed of the engineer, “The bomb?”
Walking into his office, Eddie patted a reinforced security silver box. “Neutralised. We removed it from the Sprite. The power cell is dead and it’s been rendered safe. I’ve it in this for safe keeping.” McGregor snapped open the box and stared down at the small cylindrical device. Eddie continued as the captain looked down on the seemingly innocuous cigar sized object. “I was waiting for Mila or Rah to come collect this.” McGregor picked it up, looking at it thoughtfully. “Captain?”
“Huh? Nothing.” He shook his head and set the device back in its secure place. “Just looking. No evidence on it as to who planted it?”
Eddie pouted. “Submino ran some spectral scans, nadda turned up.”
“Just as I expected.”
Gardner’s voice grew grim and quiet, even in the privacy of his disarrayed office with strewn padds, tools, smaller spare parts, and pieces of computer console circuitry. “You think someone from within did this?” A surprised look crossed McGregor’s face. “What? Did you think the rest of us don’t talk among ourselves? That we don’t wonder what the hell is going on too?”
McGregor shook his head sadly. “Eddie.”
“I ain’t asking you to reveal anything. Just try to trust us. Trust me. Trust Molly.” He shrugged again, signalling he was moving off the topic. His new choice of topic was no less awkward. “What went down on the Stallion?”
McGregor looked through his eyebrows at Gardner before reluctantly responding. “Vel’s in sickbay, sedated – heavily sedated. Monroe’s pushed for time with the refugees but that’s the best thing for her apparently. Time will let her blood chemistry rebalance. The hypo for the radiation counter acted her meds and T’Kas reared her ugly head.”
“We got lucky then.”
“That we did. Your ensign, the slug, she did good. Molly was singing her praises. She helped to put a stop to T’Kas. If it hadn’t been for her, things could have been pretty ugly.”
“Yeah. She’s a great engineer.”
McGregor caught the intended barb. “She handled herself in the Op too. Rah gave a good report on her actions. So don’t lecture me Eddie.”
“I wouldn’t presume to.”
“Good, cos I’ve had Molly in one ear and more than enough from Caleb.”
Gardner shrugged. “You can’t expect anything less of him, considering the last time.”
McGregor’s mood was dark. “I don’t expect anything of him, except to do his duty and to show a bit of damned loyalty.”
“You two had a spat?”
McGregor frowned. He absently rubbed the knuckles of his right hand. “You’re not going to get all marriage counsellor on me Eddie are you?”
“Huh. I think me acting as a marriage counsellor would be a little rich. But take it from me, don’t let things fester between you two. Facing down T’Hos you are going to need your head of security.”
“Who said anything about facing down T’Hos?”
Eddie met his eyes with a ‘who are you kidding’ look. “I know you by now McGregor. Well, as best one can know someone like you. But with whatever schemes or plans you got swirling around in that cracked head of yours, remember you’ll need the rest of us to carry it off. Like you said, loyalty, but just remember it cuts both ways.”
Scowling, McGregor gave out. “You know you are right royal pain in my ass Gardner?”
This brought a smirk to Eddie’s sour countenance. “You gotta give me credit for consistency.”
* * *
Medical Bay, USS Kestrel
“Will he be ok doctor?” Monroe didn’t look up at Jex as she studied the bruises on the Trill’s torso and felt for any cracked ribs.
The doctor of course knew that she referred to the Andorian laying on his bio-bed being carefully monitored by CH'shan. The Rigellean nurse was being very attentive to the patient. Meanwhile, Keren’s Shen, Mejal, tried to refrain from assisting after Judy had told her to back off.
The Rigellean chief nurse turned to survey the main examination room keeping a close eye on all the personnel and patients. A calm busy air within the medical bay replaced the hectic chaos of the earlier emergency. The calm had been restored thanks to the authoritative airs of Monroe and CH'shan.
Monroe soothingly explained to Jex, “As I said to Mejal, and I’m saying again to you, Keren will be fine. Given a little time. The armour suit protected him from the brunt of the blast.”
“I guess.”Jex couldn’t help but think of their easy, carefree banter before he was gunned down by T’Vel. It seemed like so long ago now. Had that really been the same Leoni that had found herself inadvertently flirting with, inadvertently being attracted to the Andorian?
“You can pull down your tunic. You’re clean.” Monroe took off the latex gloves and tossed them in the bio waste bin. “Sorry ensign it took so long to get to you.”
Jex looked around at the filled medical bay with the thirty odd rescued slaves on drips and under medical surveillance. “That’s perfectly fine. You had your hands full here.” She gave a glance over at the bio-bed where T’Vel lay sedated and under the watchful eyes of a two man security guard.
Judy noticed direction of the concerned look. “Don’t worry about the Lt. Commander. She’ll be fine too, given a little time.” Judy went on to add, “I know it must have been distressing and it must be difficult to understand what happened, but T’Vel will be fine ... and she is a good person.”
The kindness and the concern in the doctor’s voice was clear to hear for Jex. She felt compelled to show a degree of compassion in return. “I can understand some.”
Judy looked up surprised at the response. “You can?”
“I’m a joined Trill. I’ve had lifetimes of experience and so the memories of many lives. I’ve seen lots of things – in this universe and in the lives of others. I balance all that knowledge in my head, within the symbiont, it’s a weird jumbling swirling thing to try and put into words for a non-joined Trill. But I can understand how ... voices can ...”
“T’Kas is no voice.” Molly declared by their side suddenly.
Judy suddenly stiffened defensively. “Molly? You’re back?”
“Checking in.” She looked over at T’Vel’s sleeping form cagily. “I’ve to head back to the bridge. Got an update for the Captain?”
“Mejal?” Monroe got the attention of the distracted medic who flushed a deeper blue. “Would you get the update for the Commander?”
Molly ploughed on speaking to Jex. “T’Kas is no voice. She is the katra of a wicked woman who tried to possess T’Vel’s mind years ago.”
Judy warned in her own quiet manner. “Molly. That’s privileged information.”
Molly’s retort was pointed. “It isn’t privileged information when you’ve been held to gunpoint by said woman, Judy. I think the ensign is well aware that all is not right. Perhaps it might be best if we stopped trying to keep it a secret. If everyone had been in the know, then T’Vel would not have been treated with the hypo by Harris.”
“Let’s not do the blame game Molly.” Judy remained calm but delivered her words clearly. “I am the Chief Medical Officer. If that’s the case, then I’m at fault for not directing Harris so.”
Molly rejoined quickly without thought, “Well perhaps ...” she caught herself in time and changed tone, “no ... you had your hands full.”
Nevertheless, the biting tone and near accusation had cut at Judy. “That I’m fully aware of Commander Cartwright.” She snapped the padd from Mejal and sharply pushed it into the hands of Molly. “Here’s your update.”
Molly went to apologise but Judy didn’t have the time or the inclination for it. “The rescued slaves that have been treated are being housed in temporary accommodation. A number will need to remain here for careful observation. Gunny and Keren are also being kept for further observation and treatment. Ensign Jex is being released, you Commander have been given a clear bill of health and I am keeping Lt. Commander T’Vel sedated until further notice. You can get back to the bridge now. I’ve things to attend to down here. You’re free to go too ensign. Get some food and get some rest.” Judy stalked off to check the vitals of one of the rescued slaves at that and confer with her trusted right hand, CH'shan.
Jex slipped down off the bio-bed, refraining from wincing from the bruises. Monroe did not like to dish out medical cure alls for minor ailments it seemed but liked for the crew to endure a little pain and simple pain relief measures.
Molly was looking between Judy and T’Vel, the concern etched on her face. “You’re excused ensign. You may as well get out of this place.” The two of them fell into step with one another as they walked out of the medical bay.
They both marched in silence. Molly’s silence carried an angered air and Jex walked on silently, unsure of what to say. Finally, she ventured as they neared parting ways. “Commander? About Lt. Commander T’Vel.”
Molly stopped in her tracks. “It’s a long story ensign.”
“I get that. I only wanted to say, I dunno, I guess, well it must be ... it must be hard for her and it must be hard for her friends too, especially, when none can quite understand what she is going through, what she is battling.”
“Ensign ... Leoni, I appreciate that you can have some degree of understanding but...”
Leoni rushed to interrupt, emboldened in the moment. “Well I can. And I know how much I appreciated the friends who stuck by me after I was Joined. I don’t imagine that I changed much after joining with Jex but I guess it is only natural that I would change some, that I would be different. So ... well I had friends who stopped being my friends afterwards. They couldn’t understand it and they couldn’t accept it. Maybe they just didn’t like the changes in me. But the few that stayed friendly with me, I value their friendship for that. And for those, like Noah, who befriended me afterwards, who accepted who I am, even though they don’t quite understand what it is that I am.”
Molly pulled her famous bumblebee chewing face. “You get that you’re an ensign and I’m a commander and that this pep talk is all screwy.”
“I do. And I blame the hundreds year old symbiont in me for being so brazen about it.” Her Trill spots seemed more prominent as she blushed in embarrassment.
Molly’s face fell from the scowl into a reluctant thin smile. “Blaming it on the slug is a handy get out of jail free card.” Jex shrugged innocently. Molly reluctantly continued, “I suppose it has to come with some wisdom. I get what you are saying. It’s all a little raw and a painful reminder of things past. But it’ll be fine. Thanks for the sage advice.”
Jex needled in return, “The ‘slug’ is happy to help.”
“Blame McGregor for the word slip.” Jex’s mouth opened in an understanding ‘O’ shape. “I gotta get back to the bridge. You’ll have a debriefing about the SARAH later today. And then no doubt when everyone has settled down, I’m sure there’ll be a bit of a hoopla as per usual. So get some food and rest as Monroe prescribed. You’ll need it. You’ll only think the bruises hurt till the headache tomorrow. And ensign ... Leoni, it would be remiss of me to not say thank you for everything you did today. You probably saved both our lives and helped to bring back T’Vel too.”
Leoni blushed again. “Thank you.”
Molly nodded her head in dismissal and headed for the stairs. She stopped and called back, “Oh. If, no when, the party starts later tonight, be sure to take your friend Noah for some well deserved drinks. He did good today. No, he damned bloody great.”
“I will.”
“Be sure to. We have to be thankful for our friends after all.” They answered one another with a smile and headed in opposite directions.
* * *
Kestrel: Hunting Grounds - After Care
Security Operations Centre, Deck 7
“Bonjour.” Contessa Ney entered the security operations centre and made her friendly but reserved greetings to her superior officer. Her nose wrinkled as she saw the injury Caleb Dexter sported. “Lt. Commander Dexter?”
Tac looked up at Contessa. As he did so, he set the ice pack that was to his eye onto the computer console. The purple welt was dark and swelled. “Lieutenant.”
“I do not recall the drone feeds showing you receiving such an injury. Do you wish to tell how you came by it?”
“No. I don’t particularly Ney.” He added acidly though immediately regretting his tone. “I don’t need to explain anything to you as your superior officer.”
“That is true. Though you could have Dr. Monroe look at that and she would have it fixed with the wave of a wand.”
“Yeah. She could. But she won’t.” Contessa’s facial response to that statement was clearly intrigued. “Let’s just say, McGregor couched it in no uncertain terms that she was not to treat me.”
She took her seat opposite him at the hexagonal bank of security computers that dominated the security complex. Here was the hub of the ship’s security feeds and sensors internally and externally. The room was also central to the large security complex housed on the port side of deck seven. From here, there was ready access to auxiliary control forward on the same deck. But adjoining the centre was the armoury and brig as well as Caleb Tac Dexter’s security chief offices. Offices he chose not to sit in and hide his injury.
Contessa knew that Dexter was sporting his injury for a reason. “I would doubt that would stop the doctor, however loyal she might be the captain.”
“This is why he went on to explain to her just why he gave me this black eye. Knowing full well Monroe would only but agree with his reaction to my stopping T’Vel. Never mind. McGregor can play his little games.” Caleb waved his hand dismissively. “I’m done with him. I’ve done my time and have enough experience under my belt to get me a better post elsewhere. If I stay with the Border Service I might even be able to score me a command of my own.”
Contessa’s eyes widened in surprise at the statement. “You intend to leave the Kestrel after this tour?”
“Don’t look so shocked Contessa.” Caleb leaned forward, resting his elbows on the computer console. “You opted to serve in the Dogs in order to advance your command career. You think the rest of us didn’t know. You think the rest of us don’t have the same ambitions. I certainly don’t want to be under McGregor’s thumb any longer.”
“It is true. I chose to serve in the Border Patrol Service to help advance my command prospects. It has to be said, life on a border patrol vessel does offer a security officer much more experience. I always rather thought you had ambitions sir, however, I thought that with having grown up on a border planet you were invested in serving the border.”
“I am ... invested. But it strikes me as folly to expect the mainstream culture of Starfleet to change if officers of my ilk continue to serve only in the Border Patrol. There are many misconceptions about the type of officers who serve in the Dogs. Prejudices even. And I intend to change them.”
“I did not realise that you thought like that.”
“Let’s be truthful Contessa. Neither of us has shared much personnel information with one another in our time working together. It has been what, two years that that we have worked together? Yet we are hardly fast friends.”
Contessa took stock of what he was saying and nodded in agreement. “This is true. It is my fault. I purposely put a distance between us after our ... initial meeting.”
“It wasn’t just you Contessa. Relationships between officers are frowned upon for good reason, especially, when the subordinate works directly under you. It was a one-time thing, a one off mistake if you will. We both acted professionally afterwards and made it a professional working relationship. We didn’t let it interfere with the business we had at hand.”
“No but still, there was no reason why we could not have tried to become friends.”
“Water under the bridge now. Or soon will be.”
She added sadly and sympathetically, “That is unfortunate.”
The sentiment seemed to irk Dexter. Blasé, he remarked, “Look at it this way, my moving on will do your promotion and command track ambitions wonders. Whether McGregor puts much stock in my opinion or not, I will be recommending you as my replacement and indicating that I believe you should be promoted to the rank of lieutenant commander.”
“I am deeply honoured by that Lt. Commander. Nevertheless, I would ask that you consider fully your decision. Captain McGregor should not have struck you. It is not befitting a commanding officer.”
Dexter shrugged and allowed McGregor the punch. “It shows that he cares. He’s a bastard. A cunning, vindictive bastard for sure but he cares a damn for his people. I’ll give him that.”
Contessa narrowed her eyes as she studied Dexter. “So why do you chose to leave?”
“Because he doesn’t trust me. I’m not much of a security chief if the captain doesn’t trust me.”
She cocked her head. “Is that why you called me here?”
“Yes.” He inputted commands and data from the recent Op came up on the computer console in front of her. “I want you to study the data from Stallion Two’s SARAH. In particular, I want to know how that bomb got to be on the Sprite.”
Contessa took in the scrolling data and attached footage before looking at Dexter. “I thought you would conduct the review.”
“I am.”
She asked levelly, “Then why are you asking me to do the same?”
“Because McGregor does not trust me. Whatever answers I come up with are going to be viewed as suspect. So an independent set of eyes is required. Besides, when I’m gone, this job and such dirty business will all be your responsibility.”
Armoury, Deck 7
McGregor knocked on the frame of the open door. “Mila.”
Absorbed in her own thoughts, Mila Chomsky looked up a little surprised to see McGregor and a little put out that she had been surprised by his sudden appearance. She had obviously gotten far too caught up in her prayers of thanks to notice her surroundings. “Captain?” She looked down at the box he carried under his arm and now held out to her.
He set the box on the table and slid it across to her. “I want this evidence secured and locked away.”
She stood and looked down upon the box. “This the bomb?”
“Yep.” She went to open the seal but McGregor laid a hand over hers to stop her doing so. “I want it secured and locked away.” He looked at her meaningfully.
She nodded her head. Her stature was such that she towered over the captain but her body language brokered no argument. “Of course Captain.”
“I have something else I want to ask of you.”
Chomsky lifted her eyebrows intrigued. McGregor was serious when usually after a successful SARAH he was in full party mode. The discovery of the slaves of course had dampened everyone’s willingness to celebrate the outcome. “Yes?”
“You’ll be conducting the debriefing of the SARAH later?”
“At 18:00 hours. Ensign Jex will have been discharged and had some rest and I presume Rah will be finished his ... ‘interview’ with Thaddeus at that point.” McGregor confirmed that with a subtle nod. “So yes, we’ll do our usual After Action Report of the Op and how it went down.”
“Good.”
“I know the complications with the slaves and T’Vel notwithstanding, but the SARAH itself was a success. The noobs particularly performed well in my opinion. Ensign Jex turned out to be quite the pilot. And Ensign Templar was a pro, slick, smooth, quick, reactive. ” The C.P.O. gave a moment of consideration before adding, seemingly reluctantly, “And for the record, Lt. Commander T’Vel ran a tight operation ... up until things went south.”
“I know.” He looked about to ensure no one was overhearing. “You’ll be going through the data and footage yourself before hand?”
She clipped off her answer without a moment’s hesitation. “Always.” To do anything else seemed to be an aberration to consider.
“Good. I want you to also look at SARAH 2.”
“Won’t Lt. Commander Dexter be doing that?”
“I’m sure he might. He has his hands full at the moment though. But ... Gunny went down on his watch. Gunny’s a mad S.O.B. but he a dammed fine experienced S.O.B. so it strikes me as odd that he could be taken out so easily. That bomb was also planted in engineering. I want you to see if you can figure out if it was planted before or after the SARAH.”
The full repercussions of her investigation were beginning to dawn on Mila and she took it all in wordlessly. After a moment of absorbing the fact she nodded, “Of course Skipper.”
“I knew I could rely on you Chomsky. Hate to put you in this position but it requires a deft handling and a good pair of eyes. I’d ask Rah but he’s otherwise engaged at the present.”
“That and the fact you think he would eviscerate anyone you suspected.”
“Don’t worry,” McGregor’s voice and face grew deathly serious, “when the time comes, I’ll let him off the leash.”
Security Operations Centre, Deck 7
“Bonjour.” Contessa Ney entered the security operations centre and made her friendly but reserved greetings to her superior officer. Her nose wrinkled as she saw the injury Caleb Dexter sported. “Lt. Commander Dexter?”
Tac looked up at Contessa. As he did so, he set the ice pack that was to his eye onto the computer console. The purple welt was dark and swelled. “Lieutenant.”
“I do not recall the drone feeds showing you receiving such an injury. Do you wish to tell how you came by it?”
“No. I don’t particularly Ney.” He added acidly though immediately regretting his tone. “I don’t need to explain anything to you as your superior officer.”
“That is true. Though you could have Dr. Monroe look at that and she would have it fixed with the wave of a wand.”
“Yeah. She could. But she won’t.” Contessa’s facial response to that statement was clearly intrigued. “Let’s just say, McGregor couched it in no uncertain terms that she was not to treat me.”
She took her seat opposite him at the hexagonal bank of security computers that dominated the security complex. Here was the hub of the ship’s security feeds and sensors internally and externally. The room was also central to the large security complex housed on the port side of deck seven. From here, there was ready access to auxiliary control forward on the same deck. But adjoining the centre was the armoury and brig as well as Caleb Tac Dexter’s security chief offices. Offices he chose not to sit in and hide his injury.
Contessa knew that Dexter was sporting his injury for a reason. “I would doubt that would stop the doctor, however loyal she might be the captain.”
“This is why he went on to explain to her just why he gave me this black eye. Knowing full well Monroe would only but agree with his reaction to my stopping T’Vel. Never mind. McGregor can play his little games.” Caleb waved his hand dismissively. “I’m done with him. I’ve done my time and have enough experience under my belt to get me a better post elsewhere. If I stay with the Border Service I might even be able to score me a command of my own.”
Contessa’s eyes widened in surprise at the statement. “You intend to leave the Kestrel after this tour?”
“Don’t look so shocked Contessa.” Caleb leaned forward, resting his elbows on the computer console. “You opted to serve in the Dogs in order to advance your command career. You think the rest of us didn’t know. You think the rest of us don’t have the same ambitions. I certainly don’t want to be under McGregor’s thumb any longer.”
“It is true. I chose to serve in the Border Patrol Service to help advance my command prospects. It has to be said, life on a border patrol vessel does offer a security officer much more experience. I always rather thought you had ambitions sir, however, I thought that with having grown up on a border planet you were invested in serving the border.”
“I am ... invested. But it strikes me as folly to expect the mainstream culture of Starfleet to change if officers of my ilk continue to serve only in the Border Patrol. There are many misconceptions about the type of officers who serve in the Dogs. Prejudices even. And I intend to change them.”
“I did not realise that you thought like that.”
“Let’s be truthful Contessa. Neither of us has shared much personnel information with one another in our time working together. It has been what, two years that that we have worked together? Yet we are hardly fast friends.”
Contessa took stock of what he was saying and nodded in agreement. “This is true. It is my fault. I purposely put a distance between us after our ... initial meeting.”
“It wasn’t just you Contessa. Relationships between officers are frowned upon for good reason, especially, when the subordinate works directly under you. It was a one-time thing, a one off mistake if you will. We both acted professionally afterwards and made it a professional working relationship. We didn’t let it interfere with the business we had at hand.”
“No but still, there was no reason why we could not have tried to become friends.”
“Water under the bridge now. Or soon will be.”
She added sadly and sympathetically, “That is unfortunate.”
The sentiment seemed to irk Dexter. Blasé, he remarked, “Look at it this way, my moving on will do your promotion and command track ambitions wonders. Whether McGregor puts much stock in my opinion or not, I will be recommending you as my replacement and indicating that I believe you should be promoted to the rank of lieutenant commander.”
“I am deeply honoured by that Lt. Commander. Nevertheless, I would ask that you consider fully your decision. Captain McGregor should not have struck you. It is not befitting a commanding officer.”
Dexter shrugged and allowed McGregor the punch. “It shows that he cares. He’s a bastard. A cunning, vindictive bastard for sure but he cares a damn for his people. I’ll give him that.”
Contessa narrowed her eyes as she studied Dexter. “So why do you chose to leave?”
“Because he doesn’t trust me. I’m not much of a security chief if the captain doesn’t trust me.”
She cocked her head. “Is that why you called me here?”
“Yes.” He inputted commands and data from the recent Op came up on the computer console in front of her. “I want you to study the data from Stallion Two’s SARAH. In particular, I want to know how that bomb got to be on the Sprite.”
Contessa took in the scrolling data and attached footage before looking at Dexter. “I thought you would conduct the review.”
“I am.”
She asked levelly, “Then why are you asking me to do the same?”
“Because McGregor does not trust me. Whatever answers I come up with are going to be viewed as suspect. So an independent set of eyes is required. Besides, when I’m gone, this job and such dirty business will all be your responsibility.”
* * *
Armoury, Deck 7
McGregor knocked on the frame of the open door. “Mila.”
Absorbed in her own thoughts, Mila Chomsky looked up a little surprised to see McGregor and a little put out that she had been surprised by his sudden appearance. She had obviously gotten far too caught up in her prayers of thanks to notice her surroundings. “Captain?” She looked down at the box he carried under his arm and now held out to her.
He set the box on the table and slid it across to her. “I want this evidence secured and locked away.”
She stood and looked down upon the box. “This the bomb?”
“Yep.” She went to open the seal but McGregor laid a hand over hers to stop her doing so. “I want it secured and locked away.” He looked at her meaningfully.
She nodded her head. Her stature was such that she towered over the captain but her body language brokered no argument. “Of course Captain.”
“I have something else I want to ask of you.”
Chomsky lifted her eyebrows intrigued. McGregor was serious when usually after a successful SARAH he was in full party mode. The discovery of the slaves of course had dampened everyone’s willingness to celebrate the outcome. “Yes?”
“You’ll be conducting the debriefing of the SARAH later?”
“At 18:00 hours. Ensign Jex will have been discharged and had some rest and I presume Rah will be finished his ... ‘interview’ with Thaddeus at that point.” McGregor confirmed that with a subtle nod. “So yes, we’ll do our usual After Action Report of the Op and how it went down.”
“Good.”
“I know the complications with the slaves and T’Vel notwithstanding, but the SARAH itself was a success. The noobs particularly performed well in my opinion. Ensign Jex turned out to be quite the pilot. And Ensign Templar was a pro, slick, smooth, quick, reactive. ” The C.P.O. gave a moment of consideration before adding, seemingly reluctantly, “And for the record, Lt. Commander T’Vel ran a tight operation ... up until things went south.”
“I know.” He looked about to ensure no one was overhearing. “You’ll be going through the data and footage yourself before hand?”
She clipped off her answer without a moment’s hesitation. “Always.” To do anything else seemed to be an aberration to consider.
“Good. I want you to also look at SARAH 2.”
“Won’t Lt. Commander Dexter be doing that?”
“I’m sure he might. He has his hands full at the moment though. But ... Gunny went down on his watch. Gunny’s a mad S.O.B. but he a dammed fine experienced S.O.B. so it strikes me as odd that he could be taken out so easily. That bomb was also planted in engineering. I want you to see if you can figure out if it was planted before or after the SARAH.”
The full repercussions of her investigation were beginning to dawn on Mila and she took it all in wordlessly. After a moment of absorbing the fact she nodded, “Of course Skipper.”
“I knew I could rely on you Chomsky. Hate to put you in this position but it requires a deft handling and a good pair of eyes. I’d ask Rah but he’s otherwise engaged at the present.”
“That and the fact you think he would eviscerate anyone you suspected.”
“Don’t worry,” McGregor’s voice and face grew deathly serious, “when the time comes, I’ll let him off the leash.”
* * *
Superb character work with your usual biting, witty dialogue. While events seem to be winding down, the verbal jousting continues. McGregor seems more reserved than usual (not that "reserved" is a good adjective for the Captain) - it seems he's having to process the after-action like everyone else, but as C.O., he has to be both above it all, yet profoundly affected by it all.
Really good stuff!
Really good stuff!
This is honestly probably my favorite chapter you have written so far for this story. I love character work like nothing else, and this chapter delivered it in spades. The interaction between all the various players was just pitch-perfect. Some of it built tension, and some of it relieved it, and it all made for a very satisfying read. I also liked the way you worked descriptive details about the layout and appearance of the Kestrel in there ... very seamless and yet still informational.
Of course, not everything was satisfying (!) ... there are still questions for which we have to wait for answers, like WHO IS THE MOLE?! And however will T'Vel fare after all of this? Can't wait to find out. Keep up the excellent work!
Of course, not everything was satisfying (!) ... there are still questions for which we have to wait for answers, like WHO IS THE MOLE?! And however will T'Vel fare after all of this? Can't wait to find out. Keep up the excellent work!
Thank you for the reviews and the reading. Glad the character stuff is working out. There's a deal of fallout from the SARAH but a lot more fall out to come down the line. Yes, TLR, McGregor is taking stock of things. He isn't exactly the brooding type - but he does when it's people's lives.
kes - thank you so much for that. Your favourite chapter so far? Wow. Does it get a ribbon? I especially like that you liked the description details of the Kestrel herself. That's great.
Yes, tension being relieved all over the place. What they need is to sit down and have a good few drinks to sort things out. And this is the Kestrel so stay tuned for that! How much it will relieve tension is another matter!
more soon. Tomorrow I hope. Caught up trying to do a piece for the monthly challenge that isn't quite coming together.
kes - thank you so much for that. Your favourite chapter so far? Wow. Does it get a ribbon? I especially like that you liked the description details of the Kestrel herself. That's great.
Yes, tension being relieved all over the place. What they need is to sit down and have a good few drinks to sort things out. And this is the Kestrel so stay tuned for that! How much it will relieve tension is another matter!
more soon. Tomorrow I hope. Caught up trying to do a piece for the monthly challenge that isn't quite coming together.
Ok sorry for the delay in posting. Not entirely happy with the next couple of chapters. So going to rework them a little more. Sorry for the delay. Also work is actually going to be a curse this week. So might be hard to squeeze it in but fingers crossed.
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Kestrel - Hunting Grounds
Junior officers’ quarters, Deck 3, USS Kestrel
“A.A.R.?” Leoni Jex leaned against the frame of her doorway in what was actually something habitual of Deodzi, not that the Trill was conscious of this as she queried the caller to her quarters, Sebastian Templar.
Templar turned the padd over and explained to Jex, “After Action Report. No matter the Op or the outcome, the Captain always has a thorough debriefing.” Chomsky had only after summoned and explained it to him. Sebastian recalled the captain’s tour and how McGregor had made mention of it when conducting the tour through the hanger deck and past the various adjoining debriefing rooms.
“I get that,” Leoni rolled her eyes at Sebastian in a good-natured way. She zipped up her uniform jacket before departing her quarters. Templar averted his eyes as suddenly drawn to her breasts by the zipping action. Leoni however, was oblivious to his unconscious wandering eye. They started to walk down the corridor towards their destination. “I’m just surprised at the acronym. After going for a SARAH, I’d supposed there would be a catchier title on it.”
Templar drolly remarked, “Well if you can think of one, you can be sure to bring it up at the debriefing.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to get thinking on it. Ha!” She seemed to take it up as a challenge and Sebastian could only smirk. Jex’s smile and laugh was infectious and Sebastian found himself sharing in the smile before he caught himself doing so. Leoni was thankfully continuing. “I’m glad it’s over though. It was not fun but certainly exciting. Until ... well ... well until. I suppose all things considered, it turned out a whole lot better than it could have.”
“That it did.” The various complications went unsaid by the two of them, though both of them felt a degree of smug satisfaction at partaking in such an eventful SARAH.
Leoni offered her opinion to Sebastian. “From the drone monitors, I saw you performed great. Real wham, bam, thank you mam.”
“Eh, yeah.” Both realised at the same time how awkward the comment was and laughed together. “You know what they say about boarding parties and women, treat them mean and keep them keen.”
Still chuckling Jex said, “Somehow, I don’t think Rah mentioned that in the pre-mission brief.”
“He didn’t say much at all. I guess for him, actions speak louder than words.”
“When it comes to the Kzinti that is their way.” Jex’s voice dipped a little as she drifted in her thoughts. Templar gave her a puzzled and concerned look. Said expression prompted Leoni to say, “Oh don’t mind that, that’s a past lifetime talking. And anyway, when it comes to doing the talking he has Chief Petty Officer Chomsky to do it all for him.”
“Yeah. She’s one ball breaker, that’s for sure.”
“That she is! I was pretty certain she was going to throw me off the mission when she heard I was piloting. I doubt she allows for any fools or mistakes.”
“No. I seriously doubt it.” Templar again smirked. He looked keenly at her twinkling eyes and the excitement that filled them as she talked of flying the Stallion. He wondered whether if the excitement was more on Leoni’s part or the memories of past hosts. Either way, Sebastian breathed happily at her ebullient reaction to the mission. In response to her kind assessment, he felt like providing an equal assessment of Jex/ Sebastian doubted that his own opinion carried much weight with the Trill, which caused his small smile to turn downwards to a frown for a fraction of a second. So he said jovially, “She didn’t say much, but I think Chomsky was impressed by your handling of the Stallion.”
“Oh man!” Jex exclaimed full of herself bouncing around to face Templar. Walking backwards as she enthusiastically declared to Templar, “It was a brute to fly. Really rough and strong and forceful, but I gotta say, it was a lot of fun to fly.”
Sebastian felt a little bemused about how conversational and light he was being with the Trill. He guessed she had a way of making a person feel at ease. “I’ll have to be sure to clock in some hours flying them. Although I’d heard the captain was planning on some Wasp and Killer Bee training.”
A flurry of excitement and familiarity at the mention of the assault vehicles washed over Leoni from the memories of Deodzi. She stopped him by putting her hands out, laying them on his chest to keep Sebastian still. “Where did you hear that?”
Templar was stuck between wanting to breathe out in a nervous sigh and a silly compulsion to swell his toned, muscled chest. “In the mess. Everyone was speculating about the slaves, Thaddeus, and McGregor’s next move. What will McGregor do next? Where are we headed? What drills is he going to run first? And how soon after the party will he hold them?” The sense of accomplishment and the adrenaline from the Op had meant Sebastian had entered the mess more eagerly and friendly. Along with the others from the SARAH, he had gone over the particulars of the mission, as well as the mass of speculations about what had happened to Jex’s Stallion and the situation with T’Vel. The discourse had been as hearty as the eating of the food, with jibing and backslapping all round between the two SARAH teams.
Intrigued, Jex enquired enthusiastically, “Party?”
Sebastian started walking again with Jex happily skipping alongside. “Apparently, there’s always a party after a SARAH. Heck, the mess was in such a buzz despite news of the slaves tempering it that it felt almost like a party already. I’d wager there’s going to be a hell of a knees up by tonight, especially once the rescued slaves are collected. Only, I don’t bet anymore.”
“Oh.”She passed on that titbit which Sebastian was thankful for. “What do people think McGregor is going to do with Thaddeus?”
“Most seemed to expect McGregor to throw Thaddeus out of an air lock. Most assume that the incident aboard Stallion One has altered his plans.”
“I bet.” Sebastian saw Jex wince at her choice of words and surreptitiously scan his face for any reaction. He opted to hold a poker face and pretend to not show any reaction to her innocent mistake. “Rumours abound no doubt.”
“That they do.” Sebastian gave her a careful look sideways when he was thought she was not looking.
“You think I’m going to tell.”
“No.” He added firmly and gruffly. “Honestly, I don’t care much for rumours.” The levity with which he said the words implied clearly his own experience with the rumour mill. The rumours and black marks had followed him around for long enough after his disgrace. “I was only going to say that most of the rumours did mention that you saved the day on that Stallion. After seeing you in action during the SARAH itself, I’m inclined to believe it.”
“Huh!” Leoni felt a little embarrassed and flushed at the remark. “I’d swear that was a compliment from the usually grumpy and stoic Sebastian Templar.”
Sebastian immediately stiffened at that. Immediately Leoni regretted her words and grasped his arm apologetically. He looked down at her contact, surprised.
Jex was apologetic. “I’m sorry. That was foolish of me to say. I guess, and I know it’s wrong in light of the slaves and T’Vel and the bomb in engineering, but I’m just a little buzzed from the general success of the mission.”
Templar broke his frown into a reluctant smile. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty pumped since it too. And yeah, I dare say I have been more than grumpy since I first joined. I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to make friends with people on the Kestrel. I guess it took something like this to build a sense of comradeship.”
“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, it’s about time you got down off that self-imposed mountain.”
He shook his head at the Trill with a ridiculous smile plastered to his face. “Self-imposed mountain? That makes no sense.”
“I must have the expression mixed up.”
“Or totally wrong,” he jibed prodding her with his elbow.
“Ok, maybe that. But you get what I mean. I know you’ve baggage coming to the Kestrel but...”
His good humour quickly evaporated. “But what? I should view the ship as a new start. A chance to start all over. Make a new beginning and try to make amends.”
Jex’s tone however was filled with understanding. “I guess all of that. I guess you’ve heard all of those before. I was just going to say, everyone comes with their own baggage. The thing with baggage is that at some point you have to unpack and unload yourself of it.” The conversation stopped for a moment between the two of them. Jex ventured to break the silent spell. “But what you said was really good too. I wish I had thought of it to say. Nice that you are thinking along those lines for yourself.”
“You are beginning to sound like an agony aunt.”
She shrugged. “Don’t blame me, blame Niesa.”
“Huh?”
Rather than get into Niesa’s mothering and coddling ways, Jex opted for the simpler, “Blame it on the slug.”
Sebastian threw her a querulous look. “Hmph. I suppose. Look, I’m not one for all this ... sharing and caring crap.”
“Oh. Did you go to the McGregor School of Counselling?”
“The one that throws counsellors off the ship?”
“Technically he did not throw her off but sold her off.”
“Yeah. But ... thanks for not being, you know, biased about me on the account of rumours. And for giving me a chance.”
“Hey. We are all ensigns in this together. You, Noah and I need to look out for one another. McGregor and co. are crazy! We’re the only sane ones aboard.” She threw her arm over his shoulders in mock camaraderie.
Sebastian flushed at the close proximity and laughed it off as well as the arm. “Says the one blaming what she says on the slug.”
Leoni shrugged her shoulders. “A good point.”
Sebastian looked at her askance. “What’s with the smile?”
“I just realised how handy a get out clause that is. Seems Commander Cartwright was right. Come on. We’re here.”
As they entered the briefing room, Jude Buchanan flashed Leoni a winning smile and indicated the open seat beside him. “Here’s the hero of the hour by all rumoured accounts.”
Submino declared loudly, spilling the crumbs of a pastry as he exclaimed to the room. “Hey, I had my hands on the bomb. One false move and everyone could have been blown up. Where’s my hero worship?”
“According to Nujinx you had a case of brown pants.” There was a chorus of whoops and laughter from the team members to Jude Buchanan’s remark. “That automatically disqualifies you for hero worship Ole Blue. Or should that be Ole Brown?”
Offended, Submino hollered back with his mouth full, spitting crumbs down the front of his uniform. “Hey! There’s no need to be disgusting.”
Cain Dashiel to one side of the room shook his head. “Heaven forefend Submino.”
Lounging languorously in a chair with his feet up on the briefing table and his eyes half closed, Timmian asked, “Can we get this over with? We’re wasting partying time.”
“You sure you don’t need to hibernate Timmian?” The Denobulan smirked but did not deign to open his eyes to the comment from Buchanan.
“Timmian has a point.” Chomsky announced clearly. “Let’s get this A.A.R. started and over and done with.”
Leoni made a face that did not go unnoticed by the others. Buchanan called her on it. “What’s up Spots? Do you have an issue with participating in an A.A.R. or do you want to simply bask in the hero worship?”
Taking her seat, across from Jude, Jex responded in a similar light tone, “Not at all. I understand the reasoning. It’s just... well the name is a little lame. It’s just that A.A.R. sounds a little too normal for the Kestrel.”
Submino corrected Jex. “That’s cos you ain’t saying it right.”
Taking a seat beside Jex, Sebastian saw how she folded her hands on the table and frowned. He too was puzzled at the answer from Submino. Jex was the one to ask out straight though, “Saying it right? How else can you say it?”
Submino leaned in with Jude, Timmian, Dashiel and the others as they crooned together, “Why do we do A.A.R.s? Because, ‘Aarrgh! We aren’t pirates!!’” They broke down into laughter.
“Oh groan. That’s just so bad.”Leoni shook her head almost disapprovingly while Sebastian found himself stifling a snort.
Mila shook her head too. “You shouldn’t have gotten them started Ensign.”
Sorry for the delay in getting my act together. Here's the next instalment of Kestrel I hope you enjoy.
A.A.R.* * *
Junior officers’ quarters, Deck 3, USS Kestrel
“A.A.R.?” Leoni Jex leaned against the frame of her doorway in what was actually something habitual of Deodzi, not that the Trill was conscious of this as she queried the caller to her quarters, Sebastian Templar.
Templar turned the padd over and explained to Jex, “After Action Report. No matter the Op or the outcome, the Captain always has a thorough debriefing.” Chomsky had only after summoned and explained it to him. Sebastian recalled the captain’s tour and how McGregor had made mention of it when conducting the tour through the hanger deck and past the various adjoining debriefing rooms.
“I get that,” Leoni rolled her eyes at Sebastian in a good-natured way. She zipped up her uniform jacket before departing her quarters. Templar averted his eyes as suddenly drawn to her breasts by the zipping action. Leoni however, was oblivious to his unconscious wandering eye. They started to walk down the corridor towards their destination. “I’m just surprised at the acronym. After going for a SARAH, I’d supposed there would be a catchier title on it.”
Templar drolly remarked, “Well if you can think of one, you can be sure to bring it up at the debriefing.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to get thinking on it. Ha!” She seemed to take it up as a challenge and Sebastian could only smirk. Jex’s smile and laugh was infectious and Sebastian found himself sharing in the smile before he caught himself doing so. Leoni was thankfully continuing. “I’m glad it’s over though. It was not fun but certainly exciting. Until ... well ... well until. I suppose all things considered, it turned out a whole lot better than it could have.”
“That it did.” The various complications went unsaid by the two of them, though both of them felt a degree of smug satisfaction at partaking in such an eventful SARAH.
Leoni offered her opinion to Sebastian. “From the drone monitors, I saw you performed great. Real wham, bam, thank you mam.”
“Eh, yeah.” Both realised at the same time how awkward the comment was and laughed together. “You know what they say about boarding parties and women, treat them mean and keep them keen.”
Still chuckling Jex said, “Somehow, I don’t think Rah mentioned that in the pre-mission brief.”
“He didn’t say much at all. I guess for him, actions speak louder than words.”
“When it comes to the Kzinti that is their way.” Jex’s voice dipped a little as she drifted in her thoughts. Templar gave her a puzzled and concerned look. Said expression prompted Leoni to say, “Oh don’t mind that, that’s a past lifetime talking. And anyway, when it comes to doing the talking he has Chief Petty Officer Chomsky to do it all for him.”
“Yeah. She’s one ball breaker, that’s for sure.”
“That she is! I was pretty certain she was going to throw me off the mission when she heard I was piloting. I doubt she allows for any fools or mistakes.”
“No. I seriously doubt it.” Templar again smirked. He looked keenly at her twinkling eyes and the excitement that filled them as she talked of flying the Stallion. He wondered whether if the excitement was more on Leoni’s part or the memories of past hosts. Either way, Sebastian breathed happily at her ebullient reaction to the mission. In response to her kind assessment, he felt like providing an equal assessment of Jex/ Sebastian doubted that his own opinion carried much weight with the Trill, which caused his small smile to turn downwards to a frown for a fraction of a second. So he said jovially, “She didn’t say much, but I think Chomsky was impressed by your handling of the Stallion.”
“Oh man!” Jex exclaimed full of herself bouncing around to face Templar. Walking backwards as she enthusiastically declared to Templar, “It was a brute to fly. Really rough and strong and forceful, but I gotta say, it was a lot of fun to fly.”
Sebastian felt a little bemused about how conversational and light he was being with the Trill. He guessed she had a way of making a person feel at ease. “I’ll have to be sure to clock in some hours flying them. Although I’d heard the captain was planning on some Wasp and Killer Bee training.”
A flurry of excitement and familiarity at the mention of the assault vehicles washed over Leoni from the memories of Deodzi. She stopped him by putting her hands out, laying them on his chest to keep Sebastian still. “Where did you hear that?”
Templar was stuck between wanting to breathe out in a nervous sigh and a silly compulsion to swell his toned, muscled chest. “In the mess. Everyone was speculating about the slaves, Thaddeus, and McGregor’s next move. What will McGregor do next? Where are we headed? What drills is he going to run first? And how soon after the party will he hold them?” The sense of accomplishment and the adrenaline from the Op had meant Sebastian had entered the mess more eagerly and friendly. Along with the others from the SARAH, he had gone over the particulars of the mission, as well as the mass of speculations about what had happened to Jex’s Stallion and the situation with T’Vel. The discourse had been as hearty as the eating of the food, with jibing and backslapping all round between the two SARAH teams.
Intrigued, Jex enquired enthusiastically, “Party?”
Sebastian started walking again with Jex happily skipping alongside. “Apparently, there’s always a party after a SARAH. Heck, the mess was in such a buzz despite news of the slaves tempering it that it felt almost like a party already. I’d wager there’s going to be a hell of a knees up by tonight, especially once the rescued slaves are collected. Only, I don’t bet anymore.”
“Oh.”She passed on that titbit which Sebastian was thankful for. “What do people think McGregor is going to do with Thaddeus?”
“Most seemed to expect McGregor to throw Thaddeus out of an air lock. Most assume that the incident aboard Stallion One has altered his plans.”
“I bet.” Sebastian saw Jex wince at her choice of words and surreptitiously scan his face for any reaction. He opted to hold a poker face and pretend to not show any reaction to her innocent mistake. “Rumours abound no doubt.”
“That they do.” Sebastian gave her a careful look sideways when he was thought she was not looking.
“You think I’m going to tell.”
“No.” He added firmly and gruffly. “Honestly, I don’t care much for rumours.” The levity with which he said the words implied clearly his own experience with the rumour mill. The rumours and black marks had followed him around for long enough after his disgrace. “I was only going to say that most of the rumours did mention that you saved the day on that Stallion. After seeing you in action during the SARAH itself, I’m inclined to believe it.”
“Huh!” Leoni felt a little embarrassed and flushed at the remark. “I’d swear that was a compliment from the usually grumpy and stoic Sebastian Templar.”
Sebastian immediately stiffened at that. Immediately Leoni regretted her words and grasped his arm apologetically. He looked down at her contact, surprised.
Jex was apologetic. “I’m sorry. That was foolish of me to say. I guess, and I know it’s wrong in light of the slaves and T’Vel and the bomb in engineering, but I’m just a little buzzed from the general success of the mission.”
Templar broke his frown into a reluctant smile. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty pumped since it too. And yeah, I dare say I have been more than grumpy since I first joined. I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to make friends with people on the Kestrel. I guess it took something like this to build a sense of comradeship.”
“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, it’s about time you got down off that self-imposed mountain.”
He shook his head at the Trill with a ridiculous smile plastered to his face. “Self-imposed mountain? That makes no sense.”
“I must have the expression mixed up.”
“Or totally wrong,” he jibed prodding her with his elbow.
“Ok, maybe that. But you get what I mean. I know you’ve baggage coming to the Kestrel but...”
His good humour quickly evaporated. “But what? I should view the ship as a new start. A chance to start all over. Make a new beginning and try to make amends.”
Jex’s tone however was filled with understanding. “I guess all of that. I guess you’ve heard all of those before. I was just going to say, everyone comes with their own baggage. The thing with baggage is that at some point you have to unpack and unload yourself of it.” The conversation stopped for a moment between the two of them. Jex ventured to break the silent spell. “But what you said was really good too. I wish I had thought of it to say. Nice that you are thinking along those lines for yourself.”
“You are beginning to sound like an agony aunt.”
She shrugged. “Don’t blame me, blame Niesa.”
“Huh?”
Rather than get into Niesa’s mothering and coddling ways, Jex opted for the simpler, “Blame it on the slug.”
Sebastian threw her a querulous look. “Hmph. I suppose. Look, I’m not one for all this ... sharing and caring crap.”
“Oh. Did you go to the McGregor School of Counselling?”
“The one that throws counsellors off the ship?”
“Technically he did not throw her off but sold her off.”
“Yeah. But ... thanks for not being, you know, biased about me on the account of rumours. And for giving me a chance.”
“Hey. We are all ensigns in this together. You, Noah and I need to look out for one another. McGregor and co. are crazy! We’re the only sane ones aboard.” She threw her arm over his shoulders in mock camaraderie.
Sebastian flushed at the close proximity and laughed it off as well as the arm. “Says the one blaming what she says on the slug.”
Leoni shrugged her shoulders. “A good point.”
Sebastian looked at her askance. “What’s with the smile?”
“I just realised how handy a get out clause that is. Seems Commander Cartwright was right. Come on. We’re here.”
As they entered the briefing room, Jude Buchanan flashed Leoni a winning smile and indicated the open seat beside him. “Here’s the hero of the hour by all rumoured accounts.”
Submino declared loudly, spilling the crumbs of a pastry as he exclaimed to the room. “Hey, I had my hands on the bomb. One false move and everyone could have been blown up. Where’s my hero worship?”
“According to Nujinx you had a case of brown pants.” There was a chorus of whoops and laughter from the team members to Jude Buchanan’s remark. “That automatically disqualifies you for hero worship Ole Blue. Or should that be Ole Brown?”
Offended, Submino hollered back with his mouth full, spitting crumbs down the front of his uniform. “Hey! There’s no need to be disgusting.”
Cain Dashiel to one side of the room shook his head. “Heaven forefend Submino.”
Lounging languorously in a chair with his feet up on the briefing table and his eyes half closed, Timmian asked, “Can we get this over with? We’re wasting partying time.”
“You sure you don’t need to hibernate Timmian?” The Denobulan smirked but did not deign to open his eyes to the comment from Buchanan.
“Timmian has a point.” Chomsky announced clearly. “Let’s get this A.A.R. started and over and done with.”
Leoni made a face that did not go unnoticed by the others. Buchanan called her on it. “What’s up Spots? Do you have an issue with participating in an A.A.R. or do you want to simply bask in the hero worship?”
Taking her seat, across from Jude, Jex responded in a similar light tone, “Not at all. I understand the reasoning. It’s just... well the name is a little lame. It’s just that A.A.R. sounds a little too normal for the Kestrel.”
Submino corrected Jex. “That’s cos you ain’t saying it right.”
Taking a seat beside Jex, Sebastian saw how she folded her hands on the table and frowned. He too was puzzled at the answer from Submino. Jex was the one to ask out straight though, “Saying it right? How else can you say it?”
Submino leaned in with Jude, Timmian, Dashiel and the others as they crooned together, “Why do we do A.A.R.s? Because, ‘Aarrgh! We aren’t pirates!!’” They broke down into laughter.
“Oh groan. That’s just so bad.”Leoni shook her head almost disapprovingly while Sebastian found himself stifling a snort.
Mila shook her head too. “You shouldn’t have gotten them started Ensign.”
* * *
Kestrel - Hunting Grounds
“Ok. Time to party. It’s been fun Boss.” Timmian bolted out of the briefing room at the conclusion to the review.
Dashiel Cain called after the Denobulan, “Don’t let us hold you up any Timmian.”
“I swear, the only time he runs is when there’s a party or his ass is on fire.” Sebastian Templar gave a puzzled look to Buchanan’s remark. “Oh that’s a whole other story. Which I’ll tell you both on the way to Gordon’s.” He threw his arms around the two ensigns steering them towards the door.
Dashiel laughed at the look on Jex and Templar’s faces at the arm around each of their shoulders as Buchanan ingratiated himself into their company. “Now you see why at the Academy they warned as officers you shouldn’t fraternise with the NCOs. A deplorable lot we are.”
Submino finishing off the last of the pastries spewed more crumbs as he exclaimed, “Hey speak for yourself!”
“Yeah, you are all about the decorum Submino.”
Submino brushed down the front of his uniform. “Come on then you Pips. We’ll show you how to really have a good time.”
“How comes this feels like it could be a bad idea?”
Cain said to Jex, “Oh that it most definitely is, Ensign. But after taking part in a SARAH you have no option. It says it in the rules.”
Jex raised an eyebrow warily at them. Sebastian concurred. “What rules?”
From the front of the briefing room, Mila Chomsky informed, “They are unwritten and subject to change. Just like McGregor’s oft quoted rules of command. But you do have to go and celebrate the SARAH.”
Sebastian asked at the door, “Are you coming C.P.O.?”
“I’ll be along shortly. Go enjoy yourselves. You both did good today. And that was an informative After Action Report too. Thanks for the input. Including Niesa’s input.”
Jex laughed at the interjection from Niesa. “Well blueberry muffins might cut down on the crumbs.”
Submino again declared, “I likes pastries! The flakes are the best part. Right. Let’s get to Gordon’s.”
Buchanan asked them as he led them down the corridor, “What did you make of your first A.A.R.?”
In unison, Jex and Templar declared, “Aarrrgh! We’re not pirates!”
Back in the briefing room, Chomsky shook her head smiling at the call, to which Submino added his voice. Mila said to no-one in particular, “They’re fitting right in.”
It left just Dashiel and Mila behind. “That was a productive A.A.R.. And the ensigns do make a good addition to the team.”
“That they do. So far at least.” She cleared away her padds into a carry case and looked up at Dashiel. “You headed to Gordon’s now? Or do you want to get some food first?”
“Actually, I swapped security shifts with Duwent. He was eager to be a part of the celebrations.”
Chomsky got a little pointed. “What happened to the unwritten rules about celebrating a SARAH?”
He tried a casual tone. “There’ll be other SARAHs. And well, he didn’t exactly want to do a shift in sickbay. I thought I’d help him out.”
“This is nothing to do with helping him out. This is to do with you and her.”
He did not like the tone Mila leant to the ‘her’ in her statement. It amounted to a charge and a slur. Dashiel defended T’Vel and his decision. “T’Vel was hurt. She ...” He stopped, not knowing how to talk about T’Vel’s condition. “She’s going to wake up feeling bad and even a bit afraid. It would be nice for her to see a friendly face when she comes round.”
She dropped the case with the padds onto the table. Chomsky looked up and met Dashiel’s eyes. “And that friendly face has to be yours?”
“Well Ronak sure as hell isn’t going to show his face. The Captain will probably keep his distance. By all accounts, Cartwright is stewing over it. And Tac shot her four times. I guess she’s running low on friendly faces.”
Chomsky rejoined bitterly, “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
He stepped forwards protesting. “She can’t help it. It wasn’t her fault.”
“No. But perhaps we should do something to help it from ever happening again.”
“Mila!” Dashiel threw out his arms entreating for some sort of understanding. “I’m just friends with T’Vel. Why do you have to get like this?”
She leaned her palms on the briefing table and despaired of having this argument. “Because I know you Dashiel. You are getting all mixed up in her personal affairs. It isn’t your place. And you are only going to end up getting hurt in the end.”
“You know what Mila; I’m tired explaining myself away to you. More than that, I’m tired of this stupid jealousy or whatever it is. And considering that you pray to a God that promotes forgiveness, tolerance and understanding, I thought you might actually abide by some of those teachings. I’m due on duty soon. See you later.”
He stormed off leaving Mila furious. ‘проклинати!’ Mila started for the door to chase after Dashiel when she found her way barred by the arrival of Lieutenant Ney.
“Excusez-moi, Chief Chomsky, I do not mean to interrupt but I have something serious I wish to check with you.”
Mila tried to be deferential but it was not an attitude that easily came to her when under pressure. “Can it wait Lieutenant?”
There were few on the crew who matched the fair-skinned Chomsky for height and stature. The dark-skinned and lustrous Contessa Ney was one of the few. “I do not think it would be wise to do so. Lt. Commander Dexter tasked me with examining the data from the Stallion Two team.”
Mila’s surprise was evident. “Really? Captain McGregor asked me to investigate it also.”
“It seems there are a number of deeply troubling security concerns surrounding it.”
“I haven’t been able to make any definitive conclusions about it but I was able to confirm that the bomb had not been there before the team entered the Sprite’s engineering.”
“Then the bomb was planted during the breach, which would appear to firm suspicions that someone from the Kestrel planted it. Further to this, I scanned the armour suit worn by Gunny and found a startling result.” Mila did not outwardly react to this but awaited the security deputy to continue. “He was shot with a Border Patrol issue carbine.”
“So we do have a traitor.”
“It seems increasingly so.”
“Why have you not informed Lt. Commander Dexter?”
Contessa was surprised that Mila had deduced this. “You presume correctly. I have not informed him because as of yet I have found no evidence to prove he is not the traitor. You were a part of the other SARAH party and so you have an alibi that allows me to trust you with this information.”
“And Captain McGregor?”
To this question, Ney was a little less comfortable in answering. “There is nothing that does not prove he is not the traitor.”
“That’s logical enough but logic doesn’t exactly curry favour with me at this moment in time. McGregor is McGregor. He’s not the traitor! He’s the target!”
“I can only base my conclusions on evidence. No evidence proves him not to be.”
“He wasn’t in the engineering compartment when Gunny was shot. How’s that?”
“The shot may have been friendly fire. My investigation is not complete. I can confirm he was hit with a carbine but not the how or why as yet. There is though at present enough troubling aspects to amount to cause.”
“Before you get caught up on cause and evidence, what evidence is there that you are not the traitor?” Contessa stiffened at the accusation. “I only ask as a means to illustrate the need to be careful in this territory. Causing distrust and suspicion among the crew is giving an advantage to T’Hos.”
The French woman had to agree with this statement. “I wanted to ask you however about a past security concern. Several years ago, there was an incident aboard before my posting to the Kestrel. It went unreported in the official channels but suffice to say reading between the lines, the fact that a number of crewmembers were hospitalised in an unaccounted manner.”
Unhappily, Mila informed Contessa, “T’Vel has had incidents in the past.”
“I do not refer to them.”
“Then what? Oh!” Mila sat back to lean against the briefing room conference table as it dawned on her. “Harris.”
“Yes, I am referring to the incident involving Yeoman Harris. It was shortly after she enlisted to the crew. This was after her rescue from slavery. What I can deduce is that Harris attacked the Captain and others in the mess in what appears to have been some sort of psychotic break.”
Mila recalled it and shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. What of it?”
“Harris is still working onboard. Yet she attempted to kill the captain of this vessel.”
Mila could not help getting a little defensive. “It’s the Skipper’s boat, it’s his rules and it’s his crew. If he wants to keep on the crew manifest those who have tried or want to kill him, then it’s his choice. As long as it isn’t the chef.”
“I do not understand why the Captain or anyone within the senior staff would be happy to continue allowing Harris to serve aboard. By rights she should have served time for the attack.”
“That’s because Dr. Monroe was able to decipher that Harris had in fact been the victim of brain washing techniques. Her rescue had been part of a plant. McGregor had been making inroads into T’Hos’ operations and T’Hos decided to strike back.”
Chomsky’s revelation troubled Ney. This information was something of a game changer. “Brainwashing?”
“As much as we were able to discern, T’Hos managed to use Tal Shiar brainwashing techniques to turn Harris into an assassin of sorts. The attempt was bungled and Harris ‘de-programmed’ of the brainwashing.”
“Then if T’Hos has the ability to brainwash we may have a greater threat on our hands. Our traitor may not know they are a traitor. And more than a traitor,” Ney intoned gravely, “they may be an unwitting martyr for T’Hos.”
2/2
Later ...
“Ok. Time to party. It’s been fun Boss.” Timmian bolted out of the briefing room at the conclusion to the review.
Dashiel Cain called after the Denobulan, “Don’t let us hold you up any Timmian.”
“I swear, the only time he runs is when there’s a party or his ass is on fire.” Sebastian Templar gave a puzzled look to Buchanan’s remark. “Oh that’s a whole other story. Which I’ll tell you both on the way to Gordon’s.” He threw his arms around the two ensigns steering them towards the door.
Dashiel laughed at the look on Jex and Templar’s faces at the arm around each of their shoulders as Buchanan ingratiated himself into their company. “Now you see why at the Academy they warned as officers you shouldn’t fraternise with the NCOs. A deplorable lot we are.”
Submino finishing off the last of the pastries spewed more crumbs as he exclaimed, “Hey speak for yourself!”
“Yeah, you are all about the decorum Submino.”
Submino brushed down the front of his uniform. “Come on then you Pips. We’ll show you how to really have a good time.”
“How comes this feels like it could be a bad idea?”
Cain said to Jex, “Oh that it most definitely is, Ensign. But after taking part in a SARAH you have no option. It says it in the rules.”
Jex raised an eyebrow warily at them. Sebastian concurred. “What rules?”
From the front of the briefing room, Mila Chomsky informed, “They are unwritten and subject to change. Just like McGregor’s oft quoted rules of command. But you do have to go and celebrate the SARAH.”
Sebastian asked at the door, “Are you coming C.P.O.?”
“I’ll be along shortly. Go enjoy yourselves. You both did good today. And that was an informative After Action Report too. Thanks for the input. Including Niesa’s input.”
Jex laughed at the interjection from Niesa. “Well blueberry muffins might cut down on the crumbs.”
Submino again declared, “I likes pastries! The flakes are the best part. Right. Let’s get to Gordon’s.”
Buchanan asked them as he led them down the corridor, “What did you make of your first A.A.R.?”
In unison, Jex and Templar declared, “Aarrrgh! We’re not pirates!”
Back in the briefing room, Chomsky shook her head smiling at the call, to which Submino added his voice. Mila said to no-one in particular, “They’re fitting right in.”
It left just Dashiel and Mila behind. “That was a productive A.A.R.. And the ensigns do make a good addition to the team.”
“That they do. So far at least.” She cleared away her padds into a carry case and looked up at Dashiel. “You headed to Gordon’s now? Or do you want to get some food first?”
“Actually, I swapped security shifts with Duwent. He was eager to be a part of the celebrations.”
Chomsky got a little pointed. “What happened to the unwritten rules about celebrating a SARAH?”
He tried a casual tone. “There’ll be other SARAHs. And well, he didn’t exactly want to do a shift in sickbay. I thought I’d help him out.”
“This is nothing to do with helping him out. This is to do with you and her.”
He did not like the tone Mila leant to the ‘her’ in her statement. It amounted to a charge and a slur. Dashiel defended T’Vel and his decision. “T’Vel was hurt. She ...” He stopped, not knowing how to talk about T’Vel’s condition. “She’s going to wake up feeling bad and even a bit afraid. It would be nice for her to see a friendly face when she comes round.”
She dropped the case with the padds onto the table. Chomsky looked up and met Dashiel’s eyes. “And that friendly face has to be yours?”
“Well Ronak sure as hell isn’t going to show his face. The Captain will probably keep his distance. By all accounts, Cartwright is stewing over it. And Tac shot her four times. I guess she’s running low on friendly faces.”
Chomsky rejoined bitterly, “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
He stepped forwards protesting. “She can’t help it. It wasn’t her fault.”
“No. But perhaps we should do something to help it from ever happening again.”
“Mila!” Dashiel threw out his arms entreating for some sort of understanding. “I’m just friends with T’Vel. Why do you have to get like this?”
She leaned her palms on the briefing table and despaired of having this argument. “Because I know you Dashiel. You are getting all mixed up in her personal affairs. It isn’t your place. And you are only going to end up getting hurt in the end.”
“You know what Mila; I’m tired explaining myself away to you. More than that, I’m tired of this stupid jealousy or whatever it is. And considering that you pray to a God that promotes forgiveness, tolerance and understanding, I thought you might actually abide by some of those teachings. I’m due on duty soon. See you later.”
He stormed off leaving Mila furious. ‘проклинати!’ Mila started for the door to chase after Dashiel when she found her way barred by the arrival of Lieutenant Ney.
“Excusez-moi, Chief Chomsky, I do not mean to interrupt but I have something serious I wish to check with you.”
Mila tried to be deferential but it was not an attitude that easily came to her when under pressure. “Can it wait Lieutenant?”
There were few on the crew who matched the fair-skinned Chomsky for height and stature. The dark-skinned and lustrous Contessa Ney was one of the few. “I do not think it would be wise to do so. Lt. Commander Dexter tasked me with examining the data from the Stallion Two team.”
Mila’s surprise was evident. “Really? Captain McGregor asked me to investigate it also.”
“It seems there are a number of deeply troubling security concerns surrounding it.”
“I haven’t been able to make any definitive conclusions about it but I was able to confirm that the bomb had not been there before the team entered the Sprite’s engineering.”
“Then the bomb was planted during the breach, which would appear to firm suspicions that someone from the Kestrel planted it. Further to this, I scanned the armour suit worn by Gunny and found a startling result.” Mila did not outwardly react to this but awaited the security deputy to continue. “He was shot with a Border Patrol issue carbine.”
“So we do have a traitor.”
“It seems increasingly so.”
“Why have you not informed Lt. Commander Dexter?”
Contessa was surprised that Mila had deduced this. “You presume correctly. I have not informed him because as of yet I have found no evidence to prove he is not the traitor. You were a part of the other SARAH party and so you have an alibi that allows me to trust you with this information.”
“And Captain McGregor?”
To this question, Ney was a little less comfortable in answering. “There is nothing that does not prove he is not the traitor.”
“That’s logical enough but logic doesn’t exactly curry favour with me at this moment in time. McGregor is McGregor. He’s not the traitor! He’s the target!”
“I can only base my conclusions on evidence. No evidence proves him not to be.”
“He wasn’t in the engineering compartment when Gunny was shot. How’s that?”
“The shot may have been friendly fire. My investigation is not complete. I can confirm he was hit with a carbine but not the how or why as yet. There is though at present enough troubling aspects to amount to cause.”
“Before you get caught up on cause and evidence, what evidence is there that you are not the traitor?” Contessa stiffened at the accusation. “I only ask as a means to illustrate the need to be careful in this territory. Causing distrust and suspicion among the crew is giving an advantage to T’Hos.”
The French woman had to agree with this statement. “I wanted to ask you however about a past security concern. Several years ago, there was an incident aboard before my posting to the Kestrel. It went unreported in the official channels but suffice to say reading between the lines, the fact that a number of crewmembers were hospitalised in an unaccounted manner.”
Unhappily, Mila informed Contessa, “T’Vel has had incidents in the past.”
“I do not refer to them.”
“Then what? Oh!” Mila sat back to lean against the briefing room conference table as it dawned on her. “Harris.”
“Yes, I am referring to the incident involving Yeoman Harris. It was shortly after she enlisted to the crew. This was after her rescue from slavery. What I can deduce is that Harris attacked the Captain and others in the mess in what appears to have been some sort of psychotic break.”
Mila recalled it and shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. What of it?”
“Harris is still working onboard. Yet she attempted to kill the captain of this vessel.”
Mila could not help getting a little defensive. “It’s the Skipper’s boat, it’s his rules and it’s his crew. If he wants to keep on the crew manifest those who have tried or want to kill him, then it’s his choice. As long as it isn’t the chef.”
“I do not understand why the Captain or anyone within the senior staff would be happy to continue allowing Harris to serve aboard. By rights she should have served time for the attack.”
“That’s because Dr. Monroe was able to decipher that Harris had in fact been the victim of brain washing techniques. Her rescue had been part of a plant. McGregor had been making inroads into T’Hos’ operations and T’Hos decided to strike back.”
Chomsky’s revelation troubled Ney. This information was something of a game changer. “Brainwashing?”
“As much as we were able to discern, T’Hos managed to use Tal Shiar brainwashing techniques to turn Harris into an assassin of sorts. The attempt was bungled and Harris ‘de-programmed’ of the brainwashing.”
“Then if T’Hos has the ability to brainwash we may have a greater threat on our hands. Our traitor may not know they are a traitor. And more than a traitor,” Ney intoned gravely, “they may be an unwitting martyr for T’Hos.”
* * *
Second instalment 1/2
Given the delay in posting I am also putting up this second instalment after A.A.R. in an effort to keep things motoring. I hope I'm not indulging myself too much with the character moments here but they will pay off by story's end. All of which, we are creeping ever closer towards.
Executive Orders
Executive Officer’s Office, Deck 3
Molly Cartwright sat behind the hard wood of her table shifting padds and consulting her console. When she sat behind the impressive desk, she could imagine doing literal paper work upon its polished veneer. The desk gave a sense of authority and stewardship to the room. That sense of stewardship seemed to escape Molly the instant the door chimed and Ensign Noah Cutler announced himself on the other side.
Molly’s stomach lurched for a moment but she tamped down the sensations. The door chimed once more given the delay in her responding. ‘Catch a grip Molly,’ she chided herself before hurrying to bid Noah to enter.
Despite it being her delay, Noah still felt compelled to apologise. “Sorry Commander. I came to present my After Action Report.”
Molly braced herself on the ornate, well-worn, trim of the desk. “Of course Ensign. Very good. Set it here with the others.” She indicated the stack on her desk from the other bridge personnel during the recent mission and another collection from the various heads of departments, save that of T’Vel’s.
Noah did so and stepped back to stand to attention. Molly stopped herself from shaking her head disparagingly. Instead, she said kindly, “You may be at ease Ensign. This may be your first time in my office, but you needn’t fear I’m not the Academy commandant and I don’t bite, unless I have cause to do so.”
She noted Noah’s eyes roam the interior of the office as if trying to decipher the meaning to a riddle. Cartwright recalled doing the same when she first saw a senior officer’s quarters or office. She supposed senior officers were something like an enigma to be solved or worked out by the junior officers. The quicker one fathomed what made a senior officer tick the sooner would get to stay on their good side. Smirking, Molly called him on it. “Like what you see?”
“Huh! Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.”
“It’s only natural to be curious. There’s not much to nosey at. I do keep the office rather Spartan.” Noah noted the lack of personal effects, which stood in contrast to the office of Dr. Monroe. Molly did not wish to get into that so lying, said to Noah, “It gives me greater cause to escape the office for the comfort of my own quarters.”
“Well with the desk there’s not much room for anything else,” Cutler said. He immediately blushed, obviously thinking he had said something inappropriate, but Molly smiled.
“You may have a point Noah. It certainly dominates the room. It’s something of a bygone age. Dare I say it is antiquated and eccentric in this day and age? A bit like McGregor really. Eccentric and surprising antiquated. However, it was a present from McGregor when I first took up my post as his XO. I could hardly refuse.” She patted the strong side of the table affectionately.
“He has his quirks and foibles and that’s putting it mildly but he can show surprising acts of kindness at times.” Molly could not help the small smile that crept into her expression as she recalled the gift from McGregor upon her taking up the post as his first officer.
It seemed strange to think of this small act of kindness on his part amid the greater act of kindness rescuing her from a career behind a desk within Admiralty. McGregor’s words to her rang in her head in the moment. ‘The only desk you will need ever fly Molly, if you accept my proposal.’
“So a desk is what convinced you to become his XO?” Cutler asked a little disbelievingly.
Molly was momentarily stuck for a response as she recalled that moment in her life. The churning memories brought into stark relief with Noah’s presence before her. She shook her head clear of the memories. “Hardly. The desk was actually a surprise. As for deciding to become McGregor’s XO, my choices at the time were rather limited.”
Limited though they were at the time, Molly had still mulled the decision over strongly. Despite the stagnation and the resignation she would have felt serving in a minor capacity within the echelons of Admiralty, Molly had considered it a possibility to reinvent her career, especially given that she would never be able to move forwards in her command career again.
She would never again hold a command of her own, the inquiry had put paid to that. As much as it vindicated Molly, the inquiry equally dammed her and her career. She explained for Noah’s benefit, who was more than a little in the dark about the Commander’s past command. “But limited choices or not, McGregor offered me this chance to serve with him on the Kestrel.”
Taking the posting aboard the Kestrel seemed more like a backward step to Molly. It was a vessel she had served upon years before when she was starting out and eager to make her way up the command ladder. More than that, she would no longer serve as master and commander but as McGregor’s right hand.
McGregor though had convinced her otherwise; had convinced Molly that she could make a difference out on the borderlands. Convinced her that they had a purpose as noble and as important as seeking out new life and new civilisations. In fact, he had convinced her that their mission was one that was much more vital. The gift of the desk had served to convince Molly that McGregor wanted her as his right hand that she was to be no lackey, that it was not a gift of pity offering her the post. McGregor had form taking on pity cases but it seemed never out of pity itself. Instead, he believed somewhere that the person had a function, a duty, a potential to fulfil aboard the Kestrel. Always, it was about serving the Kestrel.
Molly sought to divert the course of the conversation. She was beginning to feel a stirring compulsion to spill the truth to Noah. “Talking about serving the Kestrel, the matter of your A.A.R.. How did things go from your perspective?”
Noah stammered. “It’s all in my report Commander.”
“I’m sure that it is Cutler. I merely wanted to give you the chance to give your impressions of the mission and everything else that ensued. Think of it as your informal A.A.R. to me.”
The thought of doing so seemed to discomfit the ensign. Again, Molly resisted the urge to shake her head at Noah. “Whatever you say is only between you and me. As impressions I only want to get an insight into how things played out that a formal report can miss out.”
Noah gulped nervously. “I’m not sure what else I can say outside of my report.”
“How might you have handled it?”
“Me? I think it would be above my position to give such opinions Commander Cartwright. I’m only an ensign. Captain McGregor has a lot of experience with these types of scenarios.”
“True. Experience is important.” She waved a hand over the padds arranged on her desk. “In these various reports, I have different departmental staff of different ranks and positions offering up their insights in their reports. If their opinions did not matter, I would not have as much paper work to handle. That might be a blessing in itself; however, my experience and learning curve, and that of McGregor’s, would be lesser for it.”
Noah frowned in response to that.
Molly explained, “Given your specialist training with Ops it is a near certainty that your report is going to be pitched from that particular perspective. That can be limiting for your understanding, however, as an objective viewpoint for others to consider, McGregor and myself chiefly, it can offer a valuable input. The challenge of command is to sift through differing opinions and choose the course to take.”
“Sounds difficult.”
Her throat became tickly and dry, catching her words as she started to speak. “It isn’t easy. But it’s a lot easier having choices to choose from than ...” her voice trailed away as she looked at him carefully and yet looked through the ensign too. Molly shook herself from the loss of concentration and began again. “It’s a lot easier having choices to choose from than having no choice at all. From having to make the only choice you can, even if it is the wrong one or the one that ...” Again, her train of thought faltered.
This time, rather than wait for the commander to pick it up again, Noah intruded. “I’m still not sure what value I can bring to the discussion Commander. I’m, well frankly, I think I’m in the wrong place. I never wanted to serve in the Border Patrol Service. Not because I think I am too good for it. Nor is it because I think serving in the Fleet is more important. My Grandfather was actually an NCO who served in the Service.”
Molly’s face blanched at his words, though Noah did not notice it. “This I know.”
“Of course, you would have read my record.” Noah stumbled on his words and seemed a little too worried at the mention of his record.
“Actually,” she tried to start to say but Noah rushed on with his own thoughts.
“I never expected a posting to the Border Service. I think I would have been better suited to a position on a ship in the Fleet, better suited to the missions they carry out.”
Molly’s expression was one of trying to maintain a calm demeanour but her face belied a confusion of reactions to Noah’s words. Her face flushed with a mix of surprise at Noah’s forthrightness and frowned with what might have been disappointment. “Really?” And underneath it all, was deeply troubled.
“Sorry.” Noah almost quivered and felt shocked at how brutally honest he was being. He took a deep breath and then in a massive rush blurted, “I don’t mean to say that the Kestrel or her mission is not important. Honestly, I think the reverse. But I don’t think I fit the Kestrel. I think I am an inappropriate fit to be in the line of business of apprehending criminals. You asked about my impressions and how I felt at the onset of the mission, I was buzzed. I was nervous. I was excited and I was completely scared. Then, everything started happening. And all of my training at the Academy went out the window. I was acting on instinct. By luck and by chance I realised about the subspace sandbar. With the grappling hooks I was petrified I was going to pull either ship apart! Then when the Captain ordered the rat-trap it was some kind of blind panic and race to shut all power down.”
Molly just accepted the outburst when Noah might have sworn she would take strips off him. “Good.”
“Good?”
“It’s good that you are being so frank Ensign. It’s good that you weren’t relying on your Academy training that instinct kicked in. That’s what your training at the Academy was for. It is why they train you monstrously. That’s why you will be drilled throughout your career. So that the training becomes second nature, that you act on instinct, because your instinct will buy you more time and will tap your brain for its knowledge and skills so that you don’t respond by rote.
“At some point you are going to have to realise just how important the mission of the Kestrel and the Border Service is. You are beginning to understand that yes our missions can be rougher and sometimes tougher than those of the Fleet. But we don’t just apprehend criminals. You saw today just how vital those missions can be. We rescued people from a lifetime of slavery. We made a difference. We did it as a crew. All cogs in the machine.”
“I still don’t think my place is here. The Captain would most likely prefer to have someone of his own choosing serving aboard.”
“His own choosing?”
“I heard him after the attack at Starbase 49 stating when he didn’t think I could hear something about how he hadn’t chosen me.”
“You’re right!”
Noah looked startled at the blunt admission from Cartwright. “I am.” Somewhere within him, Noah must have rather hoped he had been mistaken about what he had overheard.
“Yes, you’re right; McGregor did not choose you to serve aboard. I did.”
“You did?!”
“Yes. I pushed McGregor to have you appointed. I went over his head in fact and called in a few favours.”
Noah shook his head completely amazed and confused. “I ... I ... I don’t understand.”
“I had you appointed because ...” Molly stopped short and dropped her eyes to the table. ‘Because I wanted to make amends for causing the death of your grandfather!’ Noah was left hanging on her finishing the sentence. She looked up again and met Noah’s eyes once again before once more continuing, this time her tone had changed. “I pushed to have you appointed because I saw your Academy record and the instructor reviews. I had a background in Ops before I moved on to the command track. I know about the intricacies of the job and know it takes a deft hand. It takes a special kind of officer to do it. Just as it takes a certain kind of officer to be a good security or tactical officer, just as it takes a certain kind of officer to be a good engineer. You are an exemplary operations officer Noah. Today was the proof of that. How you read the subspace sandbar situation alone is testament to your skills. The fact that you responded to not just that emergency but to the rat-trap situation is further proof. Given the lack of time and the lack of information you had that should have been a hatchet job that you performed. But you did not. It’s time you realise that you can do the job. That you are good at the job and that we are damned lucky to have you aboard Ensign.”
“Maybe or maybe I just got lucky. I am grateful for the words Commander but I still want to move on from the Kestrel when this patrol is completed.” Noah breathed a heavy sigh of relief at admitting that aloud. It seemed as though he had shed a burden he had only now become aware of.
Molly seemed to take umbrage at his decision. She stood as if challenging Cutler and crossly pressed, “Your grandfather served in the Service. I would have thought you might have wanted to emulate his career.”
Noah surprisingly defended his position strongly in his quiet tones. “My grandfather died because he served in the Border Service. Respectfully Commander,” he added for propriety as Molly sank into her seat open mouthed as if punched in the gut. Noah fearing he had offended pushed on with his defence, “My mother knows that and now fears that I might also die on tour. If I were in the Fleet I think she would rest easier.”
‘How wrong she would be!’ Instead, Molly found a voice and replied, more than a little distracted. “Of course. It was my mistake then. I am sorry. I just had ... I had wanted ... I ...”
“I’m sorry Commander. I didn’t mean to offend. I am grateful that you saw the potential in me and chose me.” He shrugged as tears threatened to come to his eyes. “However, I have to make the right decision for me.”
Molly seemed to collect herself. Her voice warbled as she tried to answer Noah. “Of course, I’ll, I’ll do what I can to help facilitate a transfer as soon as possible.” ‘How could I have been so wrong? So stupid to think this would work?’
“Thank you. I’m sorry Commander.”
“No. No, not at all. It’s me that’s sorry.” Under her breath, as she shook her head silently, she said, “So very sorry.”
They stayed there frozen in their awkward tableau, Molly deflated in her seat staring at the surface of the desk she gripped tightly and Noah uncomfortably standing before it, for a long moment before Molly cleared her throat and looked up at him. “You may go then Ensign.”
He went towards the door and then stopped to say curiously, “Commander, there was one thing. I did reference it in the report but Lt. Ney was reluctant to discuss it when I brought it to her attention.”
Molly wanted an end to the meeting as quickly as she could now. She was cursing her idiotic decision and thought processes that made her seek Noah’s appointment to the Kestrel. “Go on.”
“When we did the shut down ahead of the rat-trap, there was an odd reading from the senior officers’ lounge.”
“Oh. That would be the forcefield around Kes in the senior officers’ lounge.” Molly voiced knowingly. For the benefit of his puzzled expression she explained, “The bust of a kestrel McGregor keeps in the lounge. He keeps it protected with a forcefield. It uses an independent power source that would have powered down too.”
“Oh. Ok. Why?”
“You want to know why he has a bust of a kestrel?”
“No, why is it behind a forcefield?”
“Mr. Cutler that is a good question.” The door chimed and in came McGregor himself. Noah obviously decided to not chase up the question of the mysterious bust. Molly was only too happy to give him his escape. “You’re dismissed Ensign.”
“Thank you Commander.” Noah neared bowed at her and then to McGregor before he departed. “Captain.”
“Cutler. Oh Ensign.” McGregor stopped Noah in his flight. Noah looked suitably stricken at being called back by the captain. McGregor though surprised him with a simple and quiet, “Good job today. You looked after the Kestrel.”
The red of Cutler’s face was almost scarlet as he bowed and raced away giving his thanks to McGregor.
“You might have made the right choice there after all Molly. He did real good today.”
Molly however was lost in thought as if trying to look through the closing doors of her office at the retreating Cutler.
Kestrel - Hunting Grounds
Cartwright looked up at her captain with hooded eyes and a pursed mouth. To wit expression, he responded. “What? You’ve always enjoyed the paper work end of things Molly. That’s why I allow you to handle it. That and my atrocious grammar.”
“I’m sure.” Molly snapped. She was both shaken by her meeting with Noah and irked by McGregor’s flippant attitude. “What’s the deal McGregor?”
“Ugh. I was rather hoping to avoid round two Molls.”
Resting her elbows on the table and joining her hands in a steeple, Molly stared sternly at McGregor. “Oh I think we know just whom you’ve been going rounds with McGregor. That’s a whole other issue for another time.”
“He deserved it.”
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Molly was exasperated. “McGregor.”
“Molly.”
She did not care for his coy attitude. “I said THAT can wait for another time. In fact, I don’t particularly give a damn about your behaviour or Caleb’s. So long as it doesn’t affect the rest of us. I’m more concerned with that that might affect the rest of us.” She leaned back in her chair and tried to rein in or at least draw in her anger. Anger directed at herself but that she was happy to vent at McGregor too. “Care to explain why it is that I’m after catching Rah aboard the Sprite’s Spittle?”
“That damned cat likes to hunt for mice!” He noted no change in her scowl. “No?”
“I’m serious.” Her hands widened to encompass the work upon the table. “You can see what I have to handle. There’s been enough that’s gone on. So just be straight. What are you planning now? No fudging it, just the plain truth.”
“Were you straight with Cutler there now?”
Molly slapped a palm down on the desk. The sharp crack resounded in the office. “Don’t even go there McGregor! What the hell are you up to?” She angrily demanded.
McGregor flopped down into the leather seat opposite her. “Ok. He’s planting explosives.”
Her eyes rolled to heaven with a look of ‘why did I ask?’ and despair. “Explosives! Pray, why?”
“To explode of course.” McGregor joined his hands in his lap as he lay out in the seat.
“Yes, now would be a good time to be glib with me McGregor. I’m two steps short of transferring myself over with the patients when their transport arrives. So just bloody level with me.”
“I want to haul Thaddeus in for further questioning. However, his family is in danger. So, we’re going to fake his death as well as putting an end to his petty criminal ways.”
She rejoined, sarcastically. “Makes perfect sense.”
“When the cutter arrives to take on the rescued slaves, they’ll also take on a further consignment of ‘patients’ who’ll receive their medical care in the brig.”
“You’re transferring the prisoners over under cover?”
Eagerly he informed Molly, “Yes. Before the cutter arrives we will explode the Sprite and put in place a cover story of rescuing the slaves but destroying Thaddeus’ ship in the process.”
“McGregor, despite the mocking tone of the A.A.R.s we really aren’t pirates.”
“I beg to differ. We are like pirates. I board a ship by force. I loot their cargo. Essentially, I get on someone's boat and don't leave until they give me the booty. Hee, hee."
Molly was unimpressed with the humour. “You’re playing fast and loose with the rules here in order to fabricate a cover story that your mole is going to know anyway.”
“Yes. But it buys time for us and it buys time for Thaddeus’ family. Failing that, I take out Thaddeus’ operation. That in itself is a score. Thaddeus is a petty criminal sure but today we saw that he upped his game. Look Molly, today the Border Patrol was involved in a massive joint effort to destabilise and bring down T’Hos Likk’s network. In order to continue to do so, it would be useful to have T’Hos presume that I have not figured out his other enterprises.”
“It doesn’t change the fact this mole is going to know anyway.”
“Yes but his mole and T’Hos don’t know that I know!”
“Oh bother, McGregor. Really? That’s flaming childish.”
“I rather think it is an astute outflanking move.”
“No it’s god dammed childish. You are forever turning things into a chaotic mess.”
“I am but a slave to the second law of thermodynamics. The universe demands that I move towards disorder.”
Molly’s tone was biting. “Let’s leave the science to the currently unconscious possessed Vulcan in the sick bay.”
“It stalls T’Hos for a time and besides we now have a destination for where Thaddeus was delivering the slaves.”
This did pique Molly’s interest, enough to mollify her tone somewhat. “Where?”
“Lsypien Alpha.”
Molly’s lip curled in distaste. “That hellhole?”
“It’s where Thaddeus was supposed to make the trade.”
Leaning forward over the table, Molly queried, “You really think T’Hos would conduct business there?”
“He hardly cares about the wellbeing of the planet’s inhabitants.”
“That I get. But it is Orion Syndicate territory. He’d hardly dare doing business in their backyard.” She added for McGregor’s benefit though he needed it not. “And it’s not in Federation space either. What’s to say this isn’t a trap?”
“We were going to have to off the prairie during our patrol. I’m simply moving it up the timetable.”
“And continuing to avoid entering the Wash, McGregor.”
“That will come in time Molly. And then ... well then we’ll know all about it.” He clapped his hands to together and broke the spell of his suddenly serious tone. With mock gusto he proclaimed, “So for now we play it dumb. For now we play it fast and loose with the rules.”
“Why should today be any different to any other day?”
second instalment 2/2
McGregor made his way into the office and looked upon the desk with the plethora of padds. “Getting through it Molly?”
Cartwright looked up at her captain with hooded eyes and a pursed mouth. To wit expression, he responded. “What? You’ve always enjoyed the paper work end of things Molly. That’s why I allow you to handle it. That and my atrocious grammar.”
“I’m sure.” Molly snapped. She was both shaken by her meeting with Noah and irked by McGregor’s flippant attitude. “What’s the deal McGregor?”
“Ugh. I was rather hoping to avoid round two Molls.”
Resting her elbows on the table and joining her hands in a steeple, Molly stared sternly at McGregor. “Oh I think we know just whom you’ve been going rounds with McGregor. That’s a whole other issue for another time.”
“He deserved it.”
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Molly was exasperated. “McGregor.”
“Molly.”
She did not care for his coy attitude. “I said THAT can wait for another time. In fact, I don’t particularly give a damn about your behaviour or Caleb’s. So long as it doesn’t affect the rest of us. I’m more concerned with that that might affect the rest of us.” She leaned back in her chair and tried to rein in or at least draw in her anger. Anger directed at herself but that she was happy to vent at McGregor too. “Care to explain why it is that I’m after catching Rah aboard the Sprite’s Spittle?”
“That damned cat likes to hunt for mice!” He noted no change in her scowl. “No?”
“I’m serious.” Her hands widened to encompass the work upon the table. “You can see what I have to handle. There’s been enough that’s gone on. So just be straight. What are you planning now? No fudging it, just the plain truth.”
“Were you straight with Cutler there now?”
Molly slapped a palm down on the desk. The sharp crack resounded in the office. “Don’t even go there McGregor! What the hell are you up to?” She angrily demanded.
McGregor flopped down into the leather seat opposite her. “Ok. He’s planting explosives.”
Her eyes rolled to heaven with a look of ‘why did I ask?’ and despair. “Explosives! Pray, why?”
“To explode of course.” McGregor joined his hands in his lap as he lay out in the seat.
“Yes, now would be a good time to be glib with me McGregor. I’m two steps short of transferring myself over with the patients when their transport arrives. So just bloody level with me.”
“I want to haul Thaddeus in for further questioning. However, his family is in danger. So, we’re going to fake his death as well as putting an end to his petty criminal ways.”
She rejoined, sarcastically. “Makes perfect sense.”
“When the cutter arrives to take on the rescued slaves, they’ll also take on a further consignment of ‘patients’ who’ll receive their medical care in the brig.”
“You’re transferring the prisoners over under cover?”
Eagerly he informed Molly, “Yes. Before the cutter arrives we will explode the Sprite and put in place a cover story of rescuing the slaves but destroying Thaddeus’ ship in the process.”
“McGregor, despite the mocking tone of the A.A.R.s we really aren’t pirates.”
“I beg to differ. We are like pirates. I board a ship by force. I loot their cargo. Essentially, I get on someone's boat and don't leave until they give me the booty. Hee, hee."
Molly was unimpressed with the humour. “You’re playing fast and loose with the rules here in order to fabricate a cover story that your mole is going to know anyway.”
“Yes. But it buys time for us and it buys time for Thaddeus’ family. Failing that, I take out Thaddeus’ operation. That in itself is a score. Thaddeus is a petty criminal sure but today we saw that he upped his game. Look Molly, today the Border Patrol was involved in a massive joint effort to destabilise and bring down T’Hos Likk’s network. In order to continue to do so, it would be useful to have T’Hos presume that I have not figured out his other enterprises.”
“It doesn’t change the fact this mole is going to know anyway.”
“Yes but his mole and T’Hos don’t know that I know!”
“Oh bother, McGregor. Really? That’s flaming childish.”
“I rather think it is an astute outflanking move.”
“No it’s god dammed childish. You are forever turning things into a chaotic mess.”
“I am but a slave to the second law of thermodynamics. The universe demands that I move towards disorder.”
Molly’s tone was biting. “Let’s leave the science to the currently unconscious possessed Vulcan in the sick bay.”
“It stalls T’Hos for a time and besides we now have a destination for where Thaddeus was delivering the slaves.”
This did pique Molly’s interest, enough to mollify her tone somewhat. “Where?”
“Lsypien Alpha.”
Molly’s lip curled in distaste. “That hellhole?”
“It’s where Thaddeus was supposed to make the trade.”
Leaning forward over the table, Molly queried, “You really think T’Hos would conduct business there?”
“He hardly cares about the wellbeing of the planet’s inhabitants.”
“That I get. But it is Orion Syndicate territory. He’d hardly dare doing business in their backyard.” She added for McGregor’s benefit though he needed it not. “And it’s not in Federation space either. What’s to say this isn’t a trap?”
“We were going to have to off the prairie during our patrol. I’m simply moving it up the timetable.”
“And continuing to avoid entering the Wash, McGregor.”
“That will come in time Molly. And then ... well then we’ll know all about it.” He clapped his hands to together and broke the spell of his suddenly serious tone. With mock gusto he proclaimed, “So for now we play it dumb. For now we play it fast and loose with the rules.”
“Why should today be any different to any other day?”
* * *
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
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