Ghosts: Part 3
Nodding his head in the direction of an empty chair next to his desk, Inspector B’ran requested, “Sit and we can begin.”
“All right.” T’Pren replied, not sitting until after the detective had already taken his seat.
“Computer.” B’ran commanded, “Begin recording.” Turning his attention towards the woman seated across from him, the Vulcan investigator began the interview. “When did Larissa sh’ Lannonshin first contact you?”
“I received a subspace message from her ninety-six hours ago.” T’Pren replied.
“While you were on the Perseus?
Nodding her head once, T’Pren answered, “Yes.”
“What was recorded on the message?” B’ran inquired.
“Personal stuff.” T’Pren answered back, her eyes boring into those of her interrogator.
“The material on the message could be pertinent to Dr. sh’ Lannonshin’s murder.” The investigator chided, “As both a Starfleet security officer and a Vulcan, you should understand the illogic in withholding such information.”
“Am I a suspect?” T’Pren countered.
“No.” B’ran answered back. “Your shuttle logs as well as communications with your commanding officer have ruled you out as a possible suspect. You could not have been on Vulcan at the time of Dr. sh’ Lannonshin’s murder. Now, I again ask, was there anything that Dr. Lannonshin say to you in her message that you think could be germane to her murder.”
“There is.” T’Pren reluctantly admitted, adding, “But I’m not sure I can trust you enough to tell you.”
“I see.” B’ran responded and then chided, “I do not understand the logic of your actions. All I can do is promise you, as a Vulcan, that I will only divulge those log entries that I must to close this case and bring Dr. Lannonshin’s murderer or murderers to justice. Further, I must remind you that even though you are obviously vtosh k’tar, you are Vulcan, and you are also a peace officer in your own right. Surely you must see that maintaining your intransigence could only result in your friend’s murderer or murderers escaping unpunished?”
“I do not wish for Larissa’s murderer to escape justice.” T’Pren sighed. “Very well, I will play the message for you—but only under my terms.”
With a slight not of his head, the Vulcan detective indicated for T’Pren to continue.
“We’ll listen to it on my shuttlecraft, in high orbit, and only after I have been assured that we are secure from any and all possible forms of monitoring. You will be permitted to reproduce only those entries that are deemed absolutely necessary—no more.” Her eyes fixed on those of the detective, she added in a firm voice, “These terms are non-negotiable.”
Accepting her terms with a slight nod of his head, the Vulcan investigator replied, “Very well. While you are behaving quite illogically, your terms are not overly onerous. Shall we transport to your shuttlecraft? Once there, I can quickly gain clearance for flight.”
“Let’s go.”
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“I have complied with all your terms.” Detective B’ran, seated next to T’Pren on the passenger’s seat of the shuttlecraft Pegasus, announced to the Vulcan woman seated next to him. “Now, will you honor your terms of our agreement?”
“All right.” T’Pren reluctantly replied as she placed the data rod into its receptacle. “This is the recording I received.”
B’ran watched and listened intently as the message played out. Once it had completed, the detective remarked in a level tone, “Dr. Lannonshin mentioned a ‘smoking gun’ in T’Pol’s diaries. Do you know what she meant?”
“No…” T’Pren shook her head. “I remember when I first met her while I was a cadet that she was working on the diaries of T’Pol…that she was investigating the rise of Syrrannist Surakism and the Vulcan High Command.”
“It does not seem logical for Dr. Lannonshin to be murdered over this.” Detective B’ran mused, “Unless…”
“An immediate descendent—child or grandchild—could be involved.” T’Pren interjected.
“A possibility…but not likely.” B’ran replied. “Even an immediate descendent would have no logical reason to feel guilt—that is an emotional response.”
“Maybe not guilt.” T’Pren persisted. “The intention might be to cover up the involvement of one or more outside entities.”
“Such as?”
“The Romulans.” T’Pren immediately answered. “It has been postulated for years that the High Command had been infiltrated by one or more deep cover Romulan agents.”
“There has never been conclusive proof of such infiltration or interference.” B’ran responded, “But…if Dr. Lannonshin had found or was thought to have found proof of such involvement, then that could conceivably result in interested parties desiring to ensure that such proof never surfaced. If that is the case…” the Vulcan detective remarked in a matter of fact tone, “…then it would appear that those parties have…for the moment at least…succeeded in their goal.”
Noticing a red dot flashing on her console, a slight frown crossed T’Pren’s features. Reacting quickly, hoping that the detective didn’t notice the signal, the younger Vulcan responded jerked her head towards the transporter pad in the rear of the shuttle, indicating non-verbally to the police inspector that their time together had ended.
His face an expressionless mask, B’ran rose from his seat, taking the unspoken hint. “Lieutenant. I trust that should you come across any pertinent information that you will inform the proper authorities.”
“Of course.” T’Pren replied as she activated the transporter. “Live long and prosper.” She added with a mildly sarcastic smile as the detective dematerialized. The transport process completed, the security officer turned her attention back to the console and its waiting message. Taking a deep breath, T’Pren commanded, “Computer...play incoming message.
Gasping as she saw Larissa’s face, her usual smile this time replaced by a worried frown, T’Pren held her breath for several moments as her old lover spoke in a tired and fearful voice. “T’Pren. If you’re receiving this message, then I’m either...” The youthful Andorian visibly gulped before pronouncing the next several words, “...dead...or I’ve been ‘disappeared’ by the people who are after me. The smart thing for you to do would be to delete this message and live what I hope will be a long and happy life, but I have a feeling that if you’re still the T’Pren I knew, that you’re not going to want to do that—that you’re going to want to get to the bottom of this.” Pausing for a moment, an especially grave expression appeared on the Andorian’s face. “Before I continue though, I want you to promise me that you’re going to do this with the right intentions. I don’t want you going on a vengeance quest or anything like that. If I am dead, that will not make me rest any easier, nor will it change the fact that I am gone. Do this so that the record is clear. Bring this into the sunlight because that’s where it should be. Do I have that promise from you?”
After several seconds, Larissa continued with a sigh, “I guess that’ll have to do. Ok, T’Pren. Here’s what I need you to do. Go to the Special Collections wing of the Vulcan Central Library. Ask for the printed bound—not the electronic—edition of Surak’s ‘Meditations on the Katra. Third Edition.’ It has to be the third edition.” Larissa emphasized, “Not the first or second and most definitely not the generally more accepted fourth edition. Read page 874...read it closely...very closely...and what I need you to do will become very clear.” After several moments of silence, Larissa’s lips turned up into a shaky smile, “I guess I better sign off now, T’Pren. Know that I’ve always loved you and that I miss you. Live long and prosper.”
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Shaking her head as she listened to her deceased lover’s instruction, T’Pren slowly exhaled, “What did you get yourself into, Larissa, and what are you getting me into?” Pausing for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, the young Vulcan, after directing the computer to return the shuttlecraft to its assigned berth on the surface, took her place on the transporter pad. “Beam me down to the front lobby of the Vulcan Central Library.”
Materializing at her destination, T’Pren took a nearby lift to the floor containing the special collections section. Knowing in advance that the hologram receptionist would merely refer her to the librarian responsible for the wing, T’Pren ignored the photonic being, taking a beeline path towards the librarian at that moment standing before a monitor behind a traditional v’tran wood counter. Addressing the attendant, T’Pren requested in a polite voice, “I would like to check out the third edition of Surak’s Meditations on the Katra.”
Tilting his head slightly towards the holo-librarian, the Vulcan archivist replied, “The fourth edition is the academic standard. The holo-librarian can assist you with your needs.”
“I don’t want the fourth edition.” T’Pren responded in an icy voice, directing her gaze directly into the eyes of the librarian. “I specifically requested the third. Now, unless there is some specific reason as to why I should not be granted access to it, I would appreciate it very much if you would get it for me and if there is a reason...” she added, her tone now carrying a much sharper edge, “...then I would like to speak to the head archivist of this wing.”
His eyebrow raised at the young Vulcan’s display of pique, the archivist answered back, “There is no specific reason. I will retrieve the volume for you.”
“Thank you.” A triumphant T’Pren replied with just the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Once again appearing to ignore his customer’s emotional reaction, the attendant returned several minutes later with an old, leather bound volume. “This is the third edition. Please place your hand here.” He directed, motioning with his head at a silver metallic plate on the counter. Immediately recognizing the plate as a standard DNA scanner commonly used in libraries and similar places, T’Pren nodded her head as she placed her hand on the plate. Moments later, the archivist handed the volume to the younger Vulcan. Taking the book, T’Pren made her way to a nearby cubicle where she could read the text in privacy. Opening the book to the page number Larissa had mentioned in her message, T’Pren began to read. At first, she didn’t find anything odd—just the usual text, in this case Surak’s meditations on violence, but, remembering her deceased lover’s words to “read closely...very closely...” T’Pren concentrated more on not just the words, but on the page as well. That was when she noticed it...a transparent slip so very small, so slight and so easily missed by even the most observant eye. Carefully, T’Pren removed the transparency, placing it on her comm badge. Carefully closing the book, the young Vulcan returned it to the attendant.
“Here.” T’Pren announced as she handed the volume back to the archivist. “I found what I was looking for.” As she walked out the door, the security officer never noticed the attendant press a small button underneath his counter, nodding his head at a young Vulcan male at a nearby data terminal as he did so. The young male, nodding his head in response, waited until T’Pren had exited the archives before approaching the archivist. “You have done well, A’ten.” The young man declared, “You will find your wife and children safe at home when you return there this evening.” With that promise, the young man walked away in the same footsteps of the woman who had just left.
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Entering the lift that would take her to the library’s lobby, T’Pren spotting a man making his way towards the elevator, quickly pressed the door control button as the man entered the lift, keeping the door open long enough to allow him to enter.
“Thank you.” The young man who had spoken to the archivist after T’Pren responded, “The lifts have been slow lately. It would have cost me valuable time to have waited for the next car.
Glancing out of the corner of her eye, T’Pren made careful, yet unobtrusive note of the features of the man standing next to her. Clean-shaven with the short haircut currently favored by both Vulcan men and women and clad in a tan gray tunic and trousers, the young man would easily meld into any crowd anywhere in the Federation. T’Pren acknowledged his thanks with a slight smile that drew an almost imperceptible raise of the eyebrow from the man.
“Don’ t mention it. Do you frequently come here?” She inquired in a genial voice.
“When my duties require it.” The male replied and further elaborated. “I am a research fellow at the Vulcan Science Institute.”
“Fascinating, I’m sure.” T’Pren replied, slightly tongue-in-cheek as the lift door opened on to the lobby. “Well. I have to go. I have a feeling that I’ll see you later.”
“Perhaps.” The other Vulcan responded, pausing for a moment to allow his fellow lift passenger to leave the elevator before him. After a short delay, the man then proceeded to carefully follow T’Pren as she nonchalantly made her way to the main exit.
Feeling her watcher’s eyes on her as she walked towards the large transparent aluminum double doors, a slight smile crossed T’Pren’s lips. Okay...Mr. Research Fellow...who are you really and who do you work for? Well...she thought as a smirk appeared on her face...let’s see how boring I can make this for you. A grin still on her face, T’Pren walked down the street, taking note of old haunts until her nose caught a welcome whiff of aroma from freshly made plomik soup. T’Pren’s mouth began to water and her tummy rumble as she spotted a familiar kiosk. As she approached the stall, the sarcastic grin on the security officer’s face changed to a genuinely warm smile as she regarded the elderly couple standing behind the counter.
“Greetings, D’Tan...V’Less. How are you?” T’Pren said in a polite, yet kind tone.
“We are well, T’Pren.” The woman, V’Less, replied with a faint note of affection in her voice.
“It has been too long since we have seen you, child.” D’Tan, the elderly man declared in a equally warm, by Vulcan terms, tone.
“I’m sorry.” T’Pren apologized, “But...with the war and after...”
“We understand.” V’Less interjected as she ladled a healthy portion of green plomik soup into a bowl. “You have been very busy. Here, T’Pren....” The elderly woman said as she pushed the bowl of soup towards the younger Vulcan. “Freshly made, just as I remember you liking it.”
“Thank you.” T’Pren replied with a warm smile as she took a spoonful of the soup into her mouth. “It’s as good as I remember.”
Nodding his head in appreciation at her compliment, D’Tan asked, “Have you been home as yet?”
“No.” T’Pren answered back, shaking her head somberly. “I’m still—unwelcome—there as far as mother and father are concerned. Although I think Grandmother is a bit more open to my presence...probably because of Grandfather.”
“That is a most illogical reaction on the part of your mother and father, but also I think that you are perhaps being a little to judgmental as regards your grandmother.” D’Tan commented, adding, “Saliya, while very much steeped in tradition, is at the same time a very broad-minded individual. Remember, she...along with your grandfather...recommended Dr. Julius Lang, the first human to serve as a full research professor at the Vulcan Science Academy.”
“I guess you’re right.” T’Pren sighed, “It’s just that...all right...I’m not looking for their understanding or even their acceptance of the path I’ve chosen. I just want them to see me as I am... not as they want me to be. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I will admit to not understanding why you chose the route you did.” D’Tan replied, “But I am sure that your reasons for doing so were...if you’ll pardon me for saying so...logical.”
Chuckling at the elderly Vulcan’s sly joke, T’Pren responded with a lopsided grin, “Well...let’s just say it made sense at the time, and it still does.”
“If you are content with your choices...” V’Less declared as T’Pren ate her soup, “...then that is all that matters. Infinite Diversity...”
“In Infinite Combinations.” T’Pren completed as she finished her plomik soup. “Thanks.” She answered back with a warm smile to the elderly couple. “I think I needed to hear that.”
“You are welcome here anytime.” V’Less responded.
“Yes.” D’Tan added. “Anytime you wish.” He remarked as the younger woman made ready to leave, “Live long and prosper, T’Pren.”
“And you as well, V’Less and D’Tan.” T’Pren replied as she gave the proper response, “Live long and prosper.” As she walked away from the elderly couple, T’Pren’s smile gave way to a slight frown as she noticed the young man from the library out of the corner of her eye following her from a discreet distance.
Sensing that he had been detected by his quarry, V’Stan nodded his head slightly, his appreciation for T’Pren’s abilities rising a notch. This also logically makes her an even greater threat. He mused as he continued to follow T’Pren as she made her rounds down the city street.
As she continued down the busy avenue, T’Pren maintained a casual, nonchalant pace, keeping her follower within her peripheral vision. Not wanting to spook her tail, at least until she had some idea as to his purpose, T’Pren went in and out the various shops and visited the different stalls in the city’s market district until she reached a public transporter pad. Presenting her ID at the pad, the youthful security officer requested transport.
“Destination?” The Vulcan manning the transporter station inquired.
“My runabout, the Pegasus.” T’Pren immediately replied as she stepped on to the transporter pad.
V’Stan watched as the woman he was following dematerialized. Once her transport had been completed, he approached the transporter operator, showing him an identity disc. “V’Stan...Internal Security Directorate. I need the transport coordinates for the woman you just transported.” Handing him another disk, the security officer added, “This contains my authorization under the T’Ren Protocols to access that information and your cooperation.”
Raising an eyebrow at the mention of the rarely used T’Ren Protocols and after verifying the authenticity of the right of the man standing before him to wield such authority , the transporter operator pointed towards the destination coordinates of his last client.
“Thank you.” V’Stan acknowledged with a nod of his head. “I need you to beam me to this location.” He instructed as he entered in the coordinates into the transporter’s console, “And then wipe both those coordinates and the ones from the woman from your log. Needless to say, you are to mention nothing of this to anyone other than someone wielding this disk.”
“Understood.” The transporter operator responded simply as he operated the controls sending the agent to his destination.
