Wing And A Prayer

Posted on May 20, 2015 @ 12:33pm by Lieutenant Eve Dalziel
Edited on on May 20, 2015 @ 12:36pm

Mission: The Lights of Hyperion

“Wing and a Prayer”

(Continued from “The Rabble”)

=/\=

“Test a servant while in the discharge of his duty, a relative in difficulty, a friend in adversity, and a wife in misfortune.”

-Chanakya

=/\=

Location: USS PHOENIX
SD: 2.150517.1010

Scene: Shanty Town

Eve kept scanning the cavernous area with her eyes, trying not to look inexperienced. She had drawn Massimo as her partner, and the diminutive Janus VI colonist had immediately tried to entertain her and put her mind at ease.

“...And that’s why I had to take Tactical Combat over in my Junior year at the Academy,” he finished his story with a laugh.

It was beginning to surprise Dalziel that the man had graduated at all, judging by his partying exploits. The corner of Eve’s mouth turned upward in a smirk. “Do you *ever* shut up?” She put her hands up to straighten her uniform and met the unfamiliar Marine armor she was wearing.

“Nah. But usually I’m not the only one talking,” he added pointedly. “Obviously a tall drink of water like you had some interesting times at SFA.”

It was Eve’s turn to laugh. “To be honest with you Joe, I had my nose so far up in a PADD most of the time that you could have thrown a raging kegger in my room and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Oh, one of the quiet ones huh?” Massimo said slyly. “Then I definitely know you have a few stories.”

“Come and ask me when you have higher Intel clearance,” she mused, still looking around for anyone or anything that stood out among the sea of unwashed faces and worried expressions.

“It’s you! Hey!” a man came at the both of them from the left. He didn’t have a weapon or a menacing expression- in fact, he was smiling.

Eve braced herself until she could get a good look at the refugee. He was dressed exactly as he had been in the Sanctum, albeit a bit scruffier and dirtier. She looked to Massimo, waving him off. “He’s okay, Joe. I know him from the station.” It looked like the down-on-his-luck freighter Captain had fallen a bit farther. “The stembolts! I take it they didn’t sell?”

Simon DeWitt folded his arms, his stubbled face still displaying a sheepish grin. “It wasn’t a terrible idea… until the Black Stars began shooting up the place.”

“What about your ship?”

He shook his head. “That’s the thing about debts, milady… someone’s always more than willing to try and collect. The HIGHDIVER was under guard by some, let’s say, “associates” when I headed back that way. I didn’t have enough to pay the note, so I decided to at least save my collective ass.”

“Good to see you’re alright, ass included.”

Simon raked his hands through his hair and stood back, taking in the woman dressed in somewhat ill-fitting Marine issued equipment. “I didn’t take you to be the soldier type.”

Eve shrugged, realizing she had never introduced herself. “I wear a lot of hats. Lieutenant Eve Dalziel, Counsellor, USS PHOENIX,” she said, sticking a hand out.

“Simon DeWitt,” he said in turn, shaking her hand. “Former Argon-class freighter Captain, currently unemployed.”

“I might be able to assist with that. The ship could use a little help with those who have experience, in exchange for better quarters. Surely, you know your way around a helm or a resource report.”

“You’re chock full of good ideas- but I’m warning you, this better be an improvement on the Benzite stembolts. Where do I sign up?”

Eve grinned. “Talk to Arthur Embry. He’s a block leader of sorts and is coordinating efforts. I think a big man named Barnes is helping him.”

Joseph Massimo nudged his newbie. “‘Making rounds’ implies actual movement, Lieutenant. Let’s move this along.”

“The Marine has spoken,” Dalziel said to DeWitt. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Simon watched the two of them continue their monitoring of the mostly cooperative crowd. *For now.*


=/\=

Scene: Counsellor’s Office

Time Index: Later

“I need to be reinstated,” Thomas stated staring at an unprepared Eve Dalziel.

The Cardassian born woman eyeballed him with a slight weariness. “What a pleasant surprise, Mister… Varn?” Her brow furrowed as she remembered. “You’re Miss Warren’s partner, correct?”

“Oh, yes, sorry, Thomas Varn,” He introduced himself a little more properly and sat down across from the Counsellor. “Formerly Lieutenant Commander Thomas Varn. That’s why I’m here.”

Eve accessed the personnel records, trying bring herself up to speed on the man’s request. In the meantime, she decided to be blunt. “I understand you accompanied Solomon Arn down to Limbo, and later discovered he had been killed?”

“Yes,” Thomas answered, squirming a little in his seat. Eve wondered if it was just her imagination that his eyes seemed to cloud over and darken with the memory.

“Why have you decided that now is the time for you to be reinstated?”

The man in the long jacket glanced at his feet, then back up at the Counsellor. “I’ve come to realize I have a lot of people who need me and who are depending on me. The Science department is now a man down. The ship as a whole is many crew members short. I had planned on completing my recovery on EARTH, but plans change. And, Doc Foster just informed me that Sylvia is expecting our child.”

“Congratulations.” Eve acknowledged the good news. She had been reading while Thomas explained. Genetic experimentation. The torture and murder of Captain Harcourt. An extended stay at the former Secretary of Starfleet’s villa. He was nearly discharged. If it hadn’t been for a letter suggesting he be remanded to the custody of Sylvia Warren he probably wouldn’t be sitting in front of her now. Dalziel was only beginning to understand. “You’ve had more than your fair share of traumatic experiences.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be a good officer.”

“Actually, quite the contrary. You have a great respect for the sanctity of life.”

“Then why do I want to wring Sedna’s neck?” Thomas snapped, fists clenched.

“Sedna?” Eve asked, the name not exactly familiar in her ears.

“Our ‘guest’ in the brig. She was an accessory to Arn’s murder, and who knows what else.”

“Do you always go off half-cocked when you feel threatened?” She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. It was an appraising, borderline judgmental look that all Counsellors seemed to have at very opportune moments.

“Well, I…” Varn faltered in his attempt to answer Eve’s question. “I may be guilty in displaying a lack of control.”

“Viktor Frankl once said ‘Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.’ Your ‘space’, so to speak, is smaller than most.”

“I’m not your average Human,” Thomas admitted. He wasn’t sure of Dalziel’s credentials, and how much she knew or could find out.

“Neither am I,” Eve said with a smirk at her own inside joke. “I’d go even farther to say nobody on this ship is average.”

Thomas considered this. But it was irrelevant. “How can I prove to you my fitness for active duty?”

“Limbo wasn’t built in a day,” Dalziel quipped. “Have you ever been physically scanned or monitored while in a state of extreme stress or anger?” Perhaps there was a medical component that could be controlled. Screwing with genetics was always an unknown quantity.

Random visions of his wild behavior flashed through his mind. “I’m not exactly thinking about that when it’s happening. I’m not sure I’m thinking at all. It’s instinctive.”

Eve stood up and felt the slightest weakness in her legs. It was time to send Varn on his way to recovery (well the first step anyway) and time for her to get some sleep. “Okay then, we start with physical conditioning. I want you to spar with the Marines. Kass has several recruits from Shanty Town that need to be put through their paces. Maybe when her sensor nets are fixed you can have a go with her as well. But you better watch out, she’s not as sweet-tempered as me.”

“I don’t understand. The problem’s up here,” he said, gesturing to his head.

Eve raised her hand, another smirk raising the corners of her mouth. “Hey- you said it, I didn’t”.

“Very funny,” Thomas replied. “But I’m serious. How is this going to help?”

“You need discipline. And I’m not talking about punishment. I’m talking about the kind of physical control that comes with combat drills and some good, honest sweat. I’d be willing to bet at least a couple of bars of that stolen latinum in the hold that there’s a physiological component to this as well due to your ‘enhancements’. Perhaps those can be mitigated with better attention to your physical well being. I suggest regular meditation as well. I can show you some Bajoran techniques if you’re interested.”

“Then what? What now?” Thomas asked as they walked to the door.

Eve rubbed the back of her neck. “Right now, Mister Varn, I have six hours to get some sleep before I’m supposed to report anywhere, and I’m going to take it while I can.”

He nodded. With all the excitement in Sickbay, sleep had been all but forgotten. “Of course,” Thomas said apologetically.

“And as for the rest, report back to me. But try to give it a few days first, will you?”

"If it helps any, if I had it my way Counsellor, I'd never have to see you again."


=/\=

NRPG: Susan was having issues with her e-mail and asked that I send this out for her.


Susan Ledbetter

currently writing for

Lieutenant Eve Dalziel

a tall drink of water