The Ministry of Saint Anthony

Posted on Aug 29, 2014 @ 1:06pm by Captain Siobhan Reardon & Thomas Varn & Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Aug 29, 2014 @ 1:06pm

Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave

“The Ministry of Saint Anthony”
(Continued from “14-9”)


=/\=

“Who can distinguish darkness from the soul?”
-William Butler Yeats

=/\=

Location: EARTH
Scene: Villa Bonviva, Garden
SD: [2.14]0824.1145

Thomas had retreated to a shaded, secluded area of the backyard paradise, but the sound of unfamiliar voices had roused his interest enough to investigate from the haven of his hiding place. He cautiously peered out of the foliage. First, he saw Dahlia and Benito playing in the garden. But they were soon joined by a tall young man with seafoam colored skin, who looked to be somewhere between sixteen and twenty years of age. He was grinning and laughing with the two much younger children, at times picking one or the other of them up as they ran around. He was curious as to the nationality of the older youth; he didn’t recognize the race immediately.

Farther away, he saw two women sitting under a shallow portico. One of them was clearly Xana, but the other woman he didn’t recognize. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a caftan, and a length of unruly red hair fell down her back.

Reardon had called first to make sure it was okay to visit the family, but Sio and Xana had spoken very little since her actual arrival at the villa with Drey in tow. While the former Secretary of Starfleet was fine with more guests, she didn’t think that Siobhan would have been one of them anytime soon. The Bolian/Human woman’s hospitality gene had kicked in full force, but the antipasto platter and sparkling wine she had prepared were largely untouched by her adult guest.

She gave a sideways glance at the Instructor turned DLO turned question mark. Dark sunglasses obscured a good portion of her face, and the hat blocked any of the afternoon sun from touching her porcelain complexion. The tan caftan had almost no shape, and looked as if it were swallowing her. She had tucked her legs underneath her, seemingly in an effort to look as small as possible. It wasn’t like her to be withdrawn, but that’s exactly how she was behaving.

“Are we going to talk about this, or are you just going to sit here and not eat anything?”

Siobhan took off the sunglasses, playing with them idly in her hand. She, of all people, knew that no matter how far one ran, their problems always came along for the ride. “When I’m ready.”

“Did it not work out with the PANDORA?” Xana probed.

“No, that was great,” Sio enthused. “It was all I expected and more.”

Xana shrugged. The ship hadn’t returned, only Sio and Drey. “So, what happened?”

Sio sighed and relented. “I was ordered back to Earth. The position of Diplomatic Liaison Officer was deemed superfluous by Starfleet Command and the current Chief of Staff.”

“Admiral Edgerton?” Xana queried.

Sio nodded. “And something’s not right about it, but I’m in no position to debate it. So all I can do is put in my intention to serve on a ship somewhere and hope for the best.”

“This is my fault,” the azure-skinned woman proclaimed after a sip of wine.

“Don’t even think that,” Siobhan said in response. “I don’t want to hear it again, either.”

“If I hadn’t resigned, Edgerton would have very little he could do to undo any decisions I had a hand in.”

“You’re one woman,” Sio protested.

Xana said nothing. It was a true statement, she was only one woman, but that was both the pride and the downfall of Starfleet officers and politicians (and occasionally the truth) -- they were only one person who thought they could do it all. She thought she could have handled Edgerton, put him in his place. She knew more, or at least suspected more, about his motives than anyone else. She knew what he could do, she knew what she could do, what pieces she could move to stop him if only she had the time and...

The sound of laughter floated on the breeze as Xana turned her head; she watched her children having a grand time. Benito’s semi-constant nightmares of being taken “by the bad guys” were receding; Dahila’s near constant need to be by her or Jake was waning. Those were good things but Xana knew they could crop up at anytime again so she wasn’t going to put her children in a position where they’d be subjected to that, or worse, because of her.

There would be other people to stop Edgerton; this Xana had to believe. There would be no other mother to her children; this she knew.

So instead she smiled at Sio. “You sound like my husband,” she deflected.

Sio narrowed her eyes, then suddenly a small smile played on her lips but never fully came out in force. She leaned over for the first time and took a piece of mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto, popping that in her mouth. Studying Xana, the Human woman sat back in her chair, tapping a finger on her chin.

The Bolian/Human woman shifted a bit and looked around her garden. “I feel like a damn Ensign again,” she muttered.

“You’re not,” Sio pointed out.

“I’m not,” Xana agreed. Drumming her fingers along the arm of the chair Xana stared back at Sio.

The Human woman simply tapped a finger on her chin, studying Xana.

“You know that doesn’t intimidate me anymore,” the azure woman replied. “I’m not some fresh faced SFA graduate who has to prove herself.”

“No, you’re not,” Reardon replied affably.

Xana inhaled slowly and looked back at Sio; she was going to open up her mouth to say something else when she heard a rustle behind her. Whipping her head around she saw Thomas pick up his art supplies from a few feet away as he moved to shuffle off with the light.

Turning back around she smiled brilliantly at Sio.

“What?” the Human woman asked.

“Did I mention I have a houseguest now?” Xana asked sweetly.

“You’re deflecting again,” Sio pointed out.

“I can’t help it, I’m a retired politician, it’s our second nature.”

“What’s your first nature?”

“Boastful. However, I’m sure there’s a 12-step program I can enroll in to help me stop with that affliction of deflection.”

“What about boastful?” Sio asked teasingly.

“Well I can’t cure that because then I’d be perfect, thus insufferable, and would have no friends. In the meantime, let me introduce the two of you,” Xana replied. Twisting around in her chair, she called out, “Thomas!”

Thomas shot Xana a baleful look making it clear he was not up for being a winged Human deflection shield.

“I’m providing free room and board, not to mention I’ve yet to be too probing into your issues. Now either say hello to my friend--”

“Or leave?” Thomas asked darkly.

Xana made a face. “That would be rude. And I am an unfailingly gracious hostess.” Pausing for a moment she said, “I will, however, return those calls I got from your crewmates. But instead of calling Lt. Cmdr. Jos, was it? No instead of starting with him--”

“Don’t say it, Xana,” Thomas warned.

“I’ll start with Phia,” she finished off.

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have it in you.”

“She’s my cousin, and while odious, it’s not that hard to remember that we’re related. She’s staying with Cade Foster so you can have her and him checking up on you. They both can come over,” Xana replied. “Jake *loves* Cade.” Now that was a stretch. Tolerate, definitely maybe. Possibly on days he was drunk, Jake could muster up something distantly resembling affection for the older grumpy doctor. Love though was a stretch.

“Jake does not love Cade,” Thomas replied succinctly. “No one loves Cade.”

Xana gave him a look. “Are you married to Jake?” Motioning with her head she said, “Sio doesn’t bite.” Looking back at Sio she asked, “Do you?”

While it could have been in her to make a cheeky remark, the redhead could see the pain in the man’s eyes. “No,” she said softly, “I do not bite.”

“You’re safe,” Xana replied. Waving a hand to the woman she said, “Siobhan Reardon meet Thomas Varn. Thomas Varn meet Siobhan Reardon. Neither of you are biters, one is a recluse, the other has accused me rightly so of deflecting. Are we all good now? Fantastico.”

Thomas merely stared at Xana before wondering if coming here was a good idea. Sighing he gained a cordial smile before slightly tipping his head, "it's a pleasure to meet you and I don't mean to be rude but if you'll excuse me I must find shade to continue my work as Xana knows this coat doesn't breath well."

Sio examined the man ruefully as he moved with purpose to another part of the garden. “Okay Xana, you win,” she said softly at the supremely deflective move, standing to get a closer look. Now that he mentioned it, it was much too warm outside for a coat. “Then why are you wearing it?” she called after him, but he either couldn’t hear her or was ignoring her.

She tossed her hat on the chaise she had been sitting on, and the baggy caftan soon followed. The goldenrod yellow dress she was wearing underneath was much more typical of her style, and her usual disposition for that matter.

“Well played,” she said turning to Xana. “You know I have to follow him, right?”

Bonviva said nothing, only offering a graceful smile as Sio began to explore. It was only when the redhead was out of earshot that she allowed herself to comment. “I’m counting on it.”

Siobhan touched a piece of waxy emerald ivy, taking in all the plants and flowers seemingly native to the Veneto province, but also wondering if there was anything in the mix that wasn’t. While it was no longer in the heat of the day, the sky was still mostly a clear blue, only the faintest tint of amber streaking the horizon. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay frustrated and resentful in such a beautiful place. Besides, that man was in trouble. It wasn’t the kind of trouble that was obvious, but it was something that spoke to Sio’s keen emotional sensibilities.

The kids were playing off to the left, still frolicking, still giggling, so she suspected the mysterious Thomas Varn would be heading towards the right and worked her way in that direction. There were more trees and undergrowth on that side of the garden anyway.

A wild, sort of neglected series of trellised vines bordered a tree-filled area, and Sio realized there were some grapes, small but growing. She tasted one and found it was more bitter than she’d hoped.

This area of the garden provided somewhat of a canopy, with dappled spots of sunlight filtering through tree boughs and limbs to the grasses below. She wanted to call out to Thomas, but she knew he wanted no business with her, or anyone else for that matter. Xana mentioned his ‘crewmates’ along with several names that were not familiar to her. Jos. Phia. Cade. All people that likely cared about him. And yet he was here, rooming with Xana Bonviva. And even that seemed like an accident or an afterthought.

Siobhan leaned against some kind of indigenous pine tree, realizing what a good unobstructed view of the garden proper there was from here, and Dahlia and Ben. It looked like Drey was getting worn down by the two of them. He was sitting cross-legged, letting the kids hang off him like a jungle gym. Dahlia was a bit too tall to get as much fun out of it as Benito, and eventually she sat next to them and let the little boy pretend he was some kind of superhero, at least that was what Sio guessed, with Drey’s arms providing the necessary lift. “Angelo bello,” Dahlia said to her little brother with the same inflection that her mother would have used. Funny, that was a strange name for a comic book warrior.

Siobhan felt something small brush her shoulder and hit the ground, and instinctively she looked down. The tender grass at first provided cover, but eventually she picked up a charcoal pencil, the kind artists use. It was practically worn down to the nub.

Knowing full well there was no such thing as a charcoal pencil tree, she looked up and into the apprehensive face of Thomas Varn. He was about twelve or fourteen feet up, where the tree forked into two strong branches that provided a secure foothold and crow’s nest of sorts. “Thomas?” she asked, not even sure if that was what he liked to be called.

Even in the shade, his eyes were a stunning mix of blue and green, something she hadn’t noticed in their brief introduction. His mouth was agape, his jaw set in defiance. “What exactly is a Siobhan Reardon?” he found himself asking in a voice barely above a whisper.

She hung her head for a moment; she really wasn’t sure anymore. But it really wasn’t germane to the conversation. “One of Xana’s friends… which I assume you are as well?”

“I guess so,” he admitted.

“So we have that in common… isn’t that a good start?” she said cheerfully.

Thomas looked down at the older woman, first seeing her smile, it was obviously genuine. He felt a glimmer of contentment wash over him. Then, as a cloud temporarily obstructed part of the sunlight, the shadow slowly manipulated the image in his mind into something more sinister. He saw the cadaverous remains of Rose Harcourt, worms crawling through her grayed flesh, most of which had been stripped away by a laser scalpel. One eye was dangling from its socket, the other staring blankly at him, a visage frozen in horror. Varn shuddered.

“Thomas?” Sio asked, as his face filled with unspeakable misery.

But it wasn’t Siobhan’s voice he heard. It was instead the dulcet tones of Sylvia Warren, lying down at the base of the tree in a pool of blood. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” she asked, reaching a near fleshless arm up towards him in vain. “All I wanted was you… but you have forsaken me. You did not try hard enough to save me. You have failed.” Her arm dropped and she began to convulse. More blood swirled about the tree’s roots, far more than what could have come from one body.

“S-Sylvia, please-” The brown-haired man pleaded with his daymare, a confused Sio looking on as Varn’s eyes grew dark.

“Thomas, who is Sylvia?”

But Thomas did not answer. He blinked again and this time it was his own mangled body which presented itself below him. He was strung up on the sturdy limb by heavy chains, his feet had been unceremoniously chopped off, and his wings lay on the ground below, also having been removed by an unknown brute force. And then there was still more blood. “All angels must fall from grace,” the disembodied voice of Phia stated malevolently. “Even you.”

“Thomas, what is it? What are you seeing?” His eyes were the color of jet now with a crimson halo, and he almost looked catatonic.

His only answer was in a primal scream as he threw his head back. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The next several seconds played out almost in slow motion, when in reality they were rather rapid and fluid. The paper and pencils Varn had been sketching with tumbled to the ground like the autumn leaves. His jacket soon followed. And then he ascended on two downy, snowy wings, soaring far above Villa Bonviva and the images that haunted him.

“What the hell?” Sio breathed.


=/\=

A Joint Post by

Sarah Albertini-Bond
as
Xana Bonviva

Justin K. Owens
Lt. Cmdr. Thomas Varn
Science Officer
Starfleet

Susan Ledbetter
as
Captain Siobhan Reardon
Currently Unassigned