Crowd Control

Posted on Jun 22, 2015 @ 3:00pm by Lieutenant Eve Dalziel & Captain Kassandra Thytos & Selyara Chen & Ensign Chaucer
Edited on on Jun 22, 2015 @ 3:00pm

Mission: The Lights of Hyperion

"Crowd Control"
(cont. "Means and Ends")
* * * =/\=* * *

Location: USS PHOENIX
Stardate: 2.14.0620.1752
Scene: Shanty Town

Selyara stepped through the crowd, her mind working quickly. She couldn’t be sure where Savaar would go. Kassandra’s countermeasure plan was straightforward, unsubtle, but effective in its reliance on brute force.

She hadn’t thought Embry would be stupid enough to get taken out in the corridor, but apparently he was. For all his ability at manipulating people, he was not as good a judge at anticipating reactions. Her estimate of Embry’s intelligence had fallen drastically with his ill planned rush of the door, but she would bet dollars to donuts that Savaar had gotten them past the electrified plates, maybe into a maintenance panel? The Marine Commander had magnetically sealed all the entrances into the Jeffries tubes, but Selyara was reasonably sure that the woman hadn’t thought about maintenance conduits, she was, after all, not an engineer, or even a proper Starfleet officer.

This meant that Embry’s cronies could be just about anywhere. So, better to get herself to a computer, get into the security platform, and try to talk some sense into Embry’s programmer. She eyed the mess at the front of the cargobay.

The Marines had detonated the canisters of anesthizine in the hallway directly outside the cargo bay, and people around the entrance were falling like flies. The lithe form of the female Marine twirled at the entrance like a ballerina as she wielded a stun whip with deft, whirling accuracy. Out among the crowd, the enormous male Marine looked like a Japanese rhinoceros beetle, shiny black armor glinting as he used a force field shield mounted on his arm to slam into the oncoming crowd, his free hand tossing and manhandling those around him with precision.

The female Marine was looking for something as she flicked her whip at oncoming refugees. From the way she nudged the bodies at her feet it was probably the Starfleet crew that had been posing as Marines. The female Marine stooped quickly as she cracked the whip just in front of a corpulent Breen, and there was a shimmer of a transporter that confirmed Selyara’s suspicion. Objects of their search found they were whisked away by transporter, no doubt to man the next choke-point.

So, not through the front. She didn’t know where the Jeffries tubes entrances were in the cargo bay, and they were likely sealed anyway. She didn’t have the time nor the inclination to go trying to pry the wall paneling off, and besides, crawling around aimlessly through ship's ducting didn’t really sound like her ideal way to spend the day.

She cast her eyes about, her eyes lighting on an emergency transporter. She grabbed the brawny arm of Jacen Barnes, her odd, and clearly damaged, conspirator cum bodyguard. She felt a certain kinship with him. The first time she’d been in the cargo bay, she’d noticed him acting as Embry’s prime enforcement, and had gone after all the little bits of information she could find about him, watching and re-watching the footage from the Pits just after Kassandra’s fight. He was a deadly machine, and more than a little crazy when the mood took him.

She’d particularly enjoyed watching him kill the slimy Ferengi, Snek. The little worm had served his purpose well and made her connections and money she couldn’t have made otherwise, but she could still feel the touch of his slimy little hands. A disgusting, stupid creature. She delighted seeing the look on his face as Barnes tore his ears off.

Barnes was just as much of a monster as she, the chief difference being that he wanted- he needed- to change, and she found herself coldly indifferent. For one thing, changing meant facing the reality of what one had become, versus what one wanted to be. Why inflict such unnecessary distress on yourself? What gain would she really make even if she did work through all her issues? There was no tangible value to it.

The giant human looked at her questioningly. She pointed at the transporter pad, partially hidden behind the rioting refugees.

“Help me get there. I have an idea on how to fix our little security override problem.” She peeled off her gloves, preparing for what came next. She hated dipping into minds without adequate preparation. You never knew what you’d find there - some people had minds that were no problem to jump in and out of, but mostly people had minds that were sticky - you’d end up bringing little bits of it back with you when you left in a hurry. Sure, you could meditate later; sort out which thoughts and bits were yours, and which you’d picked up from other people, but you never were quite able to get them all out. Hopping in and out of people’s minds to take them out of the riot wasn’t her first choice, second choice, or even third choice, but her Vulcan strength had long ago ceased to be her most valuable self defense asset. This way was safer, quicker.

Besides, even though she could just stand back and let Jacen Barnes shove a path through for her, this way she could help reduce the number of rioters, and she owed that to Michael and his crew, didn’t she?

**You owe them nothing, and you owe HIM nothing. Do you remember those first years in Jaros II? Where you spent your time praying and hoping that he’d come visit you? That he’d be the person to go stand up for you and have your back? That he'd realize the mistake, that the Orions and That Woman had been into your head and rearranged things, that you weren’t in your right mind, and he’d take it to the tribunal for you? That you’d be able to go back home, begin to heal, and fix the mess That Woman left in your head? What do you owe him, what do you owe Starfleet? Nothing. A big fat nothing. If you’re a monster, it’s only because of them. Who in their right mind would choose sanity when they faced the prospect of 170 years or more in prison?**

**Go on, push your abilities to the limit.** Another voice chimed in. **See if you can do it. Think of it as a test. First Embry, then Edgerton. You learned a lot as the Shadow Master. Each caper, each situation you manipulate in your favor you learn what you can do. Go on… You aren’t doing it for them. You’re doing it to prove you’re the best. Do good things for the wrong reasons.**

She sighed, and reached her hands out to touch the Refugees as she passed through them in the wake of Barnes, who shoved, beat, and hammered his way towards the emergency transporter.

Scared minds, doubtful minds, she dragged those fears and doubts to the forefront, and they melted away from the mob, seeking the safety of the far reaches of the cargobay, sufficiently cowed they would offer no more trouble. Troublemaking minds, minds revelling in the violence and eager to cause trouble she shut down, short circuited. It wasn’t permanent. Their minds would reboot eventually, but until then they would wander the cargobay like zombies, unable to process thoughts.

She thought she might catch a stern talking to from Michael if she killed anyone, or even be put into the brig, and that might be tiresome.

She paused to watch Barnes work, admiring the sleek, efficient brutality he inflicted as he took people out of the fight. Rather unfortunately, he didn’t display any of the glorious violent tendencies she’d heard about from Limbo, she had rather wanted to see that in person. But then again, if he wanted to change, well, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

It seemed like it took forever for them to reach the transporter, and by the time they made it, she was beginning to have some trouble focusing. The idle thoughts and high emotions of the refugees nagged and whispered from the edges of her consciousness like a greek chorus.

"Keep people away from me while I work. I need to get us to a computer that's connected to the mainframe. Savaar's likely heading to the bridge but beyond that he could be just about anywhere, there's something like a two hundred miles of conduits on a ship this size. Best bet is for me to intercept his computer guy in the virtual space and either talk him down or freeze him out." Her fingers tripped lightly across the control panel for the transporter. Suddenly the system began to lock down, and she worried that Michael had changed his codes, but then it stopped. Michael must have told whomever was manning security that it was ok, and she had his codes.

Behind her back Jacen Barnes was saying something to someone. She glanced over her shoulder to see who it was. Steiner stood there gesticulating wildly and bellowing about how they were supposed to be leading a charge against the Marines, and he needed Barnes' expertise to figure out how to deal with the booby traps the Marines had set up.

People around had stopped to look, and Steiner was getting close enough that he was interfering with the transporter lock. For a trained operator it might not have mattered, but she was operating it off of hands-on instruction laboratories and classes she'd taken two decades ago. She stepped away from the controls and made her way to Barnes' shoulder.

"Steiner, sweetie, do me a favor?" She said in a treacly sweet voice. He looked at her and began to say something, but she reached out to press her fingers to his lips. "Shut up." She let her mind trickle down her finger, and he fell like a stone. "Moron."

She turned back to the transporter controls and pushed the button. They vanished.

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Computer core 3

The maintenance panel lay on the floor, its edges warped by the patient attentions of Savaar’s prybar. Savaar climbed out first, his cold eyes scanning the area, It was unmanned, like Embry had expected. The PHOENIX crew didn’t have enough manpower to run properly, and its empty halls would only make it easier for Embry’s men to move through the ship.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, Savaar turned and helped Gibb, Harper, and Metcalf climb out of the maintenance access shaft and into the computer core. Bringing up the rear was the Gorn, Chaucer. Despite his size, Chaucer moved well through the shaft, a sign of his years marooned aboard a mostly-human space station with only his engineering skills to sustain him. The Gorn didn’t need Savaar’s help, and slid easily out of the shaft before rising to his full height and looking around.

Savaar didn’t want to waste time; the Gorn could sightsee later. He ordered Harper, Gibb, and Metcalf to stand sentry, then turned to look at Chaucer.

“The console is there,” Savaar said, pointing. Chaucer went over to the console and started down at it, his yellow eyes flicking over the readout screen and the input. Savaar stepped up behind him.

“You are wasting time,” he said. It came out sounding brusque, even for a Vulcan. Chaucer turned to regard him for a moment, and Savaar couldn’t be sure what the look was meant to indicate. The Gorn was unreadable.

Finally, Chaucer turned back to the console and flexed his scaly fingers and began to familiarize himself with the ship's computer systems. This system was new to him, and looked more state-of-the-art than anything he’d seen aboard LIMBO, but computers were computers, They were all logically arranged, which made working with them a bit intuitive. He was making some progress when suddenly his screen froze. A small diagnostic window popped up, and a line of Gornish text appeared.

[[Username: Chaucer. Y/N?]]

Chaucer cocked his head and looked at the computer screen in confusion. This was not in keeping with the design of the computer systems, and besides, this was using a very basic centuries old code that had long ago ceased to be much more than an introductory language used to instill the basics of programming logic. And why would the computer be using Gorn text anyway? He hesitated, then hit a key:

Y.

The cursor blinked slowly for a couple of moments, as though the computer was processing that thought.

[[Are you attempting to override the security protocols? Y/N]]

Chaucer stared at the prompt, which blinked impatiently at him. He couldn’t get back to the screen he was looking for anyway, so he slowly snaked a finger out and hit another key.

Y.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

[[Embry and Savaar are in over their head. They haven’t thought this through. You shouldn’t trust them. Do you still intend to override the security protocol? Y/N]]

Chaucer snorted quickly. This was no computer he was talking to. There was a person on the other end of the text, and it was a person who knew of him. That was the intent of the binary questions.

He didn’t know who this person was, and he didn’t trust them. He did trust Embry. Embry had helped him when he had nothing to gain from it. While most of the refugees had been content to act in their own best interest, Embry had acted in *everyone’s* interests.

The person on the other side didn’t give him time to finish his thoughts, they pushed forward with a frightening intensity, as though reading his answer in the silence.

[[Are you aware that by following your instructions and bypassing security protocols you may cause injury or death to the Refugees? Y/N]]

If Gorn were capable of frowning, he would have frowned. The idea was merely to talk to the Captain and let Embry implore him to help improve the conditions in Shanty Town. How would that cause injury or death to anyone.

N.

He pulled back and stared at the screen.

A short video clip of rioting in the cargo bay flashed across his screen.

[[Please view security Protocol "Last Resort.” Attempts to delete this program by anyone other than Captain Kane or Major Thytos will result in immediate implementation.]]

The screen filled with a security program, still in Gorn. Chaucer hissed under his breath. If the refugees from Shanty Town became enough of a danger to the ship, the Starfleet officers were prepared to seal off the ship, and open the cargo bay doors, leaving everyone to die from decompression. Chaucer couldn’t believe it- he never would have thought that the Starfleet crew would be willing to kill everyone in the cargo bay. Embry didn’t know, couldn’t have known… but his riot might give Starfleet the excuse they needed.

[[I don’t want that to happen. You don’t want that to happen. No one wants it to happen. You can help.]]

Chaucer reached out slowly. WHO ARE YOU? he typed.

The reply blinked back at him a moment later: [[Someone you can trust.]]

That didn’t make Chaucer feel better, but he didn’t see any other option. He leaned over and typed his reply: I WILL HELP.

[[Good. Are you alone?]]

Chaucer faintly turned his head. Savaar was standing nearby, his attention fixed on Chaucer. He wasn’t standing so close that he could see what was on the screen, but it was still too close for comfort.

NO, Chaucer typed.

[[Is Embry with you?]]

NO.

The icon on the screen blinked for a moment. Chaucer shifted uncomfortably as he waited for the reply.

“Have you gained access to the system?” Savaar asked from behind him.

Chaucer turned and shook his head. Savaar quirked an eyebrow at him, and Chaucer turned back to the console. A new message had appeared.

[[Stall.]]

* * *=/\=* * *



Scene: Bridge

Kassandra let out a grunt, and smacked the edge of her console in frustration. The first defense point had folded. Winnifred and Horatio had barely managed to find Lau and Tillman before they were overcome and had to fall back to the next defense point.

“Problem?” Kane’s mismatched eyes stared at her intently.

“Yeah, problem. One of the refugees was a bit brighter than I’d given them credit for- they turned those deck plate electrifiers inta ionizers and neutralized the anethizine. Fortunately, with the number of people that got hit when they first rushed out of the cargobay, those things shouldn’t have much more juice left,” Kassandra clenched and unclenched one hand as she felt the sore spot on her side. Nearly better, but not all better. “Deck 22 is done fer. Horatio and Winnifred have melted the doors shut to the computer core, but they’ve had to fall back to deck 23. They’ve warned the Sheep t’ stay indoors, but they’re going to stay there to head off who they can. They’re getting set up. Rest of them have fallen back to the Marine decks to protect the armory and security.” Kassandra felt useless in her current state, like she should be down in the weeds with her men, rather than stuck up here orchestrating their moves as though they were pieces in a game. “Stacy’s startin’ t’ arm the Engineers, that’ll be our next fallback point. If they take Engineering, then our pooch is royally screwed. They’ve got some good old fashioned thermite sittin’ on our weapons stocks, if the rioters get into the weapons, we’ll just melt the bloody lot a them into a pile of slag. Ain’t so concerned about any of the torpedoes, I already deactivated those to prevent an explosion if one of them Amateratsu things showed up.”

“What’s your analysis, Major?” His eyes bored into the back of her head and she squirmed.

“Not good. My countermeasures got of about 1,000 of them outta the fight, and it looks like there’s about another 1000 still in Cargo Bay 3, but that still leaves about 2000 of them wanderin’ the ship.” She should have thought of the ionizing trick. She should have turned the door to the bay into a heap of slag and beamed her men in and out. She should have thrown a stink fit and insisted they plop the refugees’ ratty, raggedy Limbo asses on the first hunk of rock mostly capable of sustaining life.

She should have just said no when Edgerton had dangled this goddamn job in her face.

“We’re in trouble if they manage to loose the other two cargo bays- those have less people and overall they were quieter, but still…Unless a miracle happens it seems we are running out of luck.” Kane stroked his chin, and Kassandra sagged. He came up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, as though he could hear her inner monologue of self-recrimination. “You did exceptional work, Major. There’s no way you were going to be able to contain them with only seven Marines.”

Kassandra massaged her temple, shook her head and pushed back from her console.

“I know you don’t want us to switch to live fire, but this is lookin’ more and more bleak. There’s still my last resort plan, sir. We can’t wait too long to implement it. I need you to take the Security station if you would, sir. Miss Dalziel, If you’d take my headset and help coordinate them with the Captain, please?” She took her helmet off and handed it to the counselor.

“Where are you going?” Kane asked as he took her place at Tactical.

“Nowhere. In fact, from now on Sir, you aren’t so much as going to the head unless I’m close enough t’ hear you piss. You’re the only indispensable tactical asset, sir. They get to you, it’s gonna be over my cold dead corpse. I’m securing the deck and gettin’ ready for the possible eventuality that they breach the bridge. Eve, ask Private Potter to send me up a Fortification crate, plus some extra armor, whatever will fit the Captain. I’m going to scout out entry points to the bridge. I’ll be within earshot if you need me.”

* * *=/\=* * *

Eve wrestled with her thoughts as she took the headset and assumed control of the security station. With the bridge so woefully understaffed, much like the rest of the ship, and the large chunk of refugees trying to take over, it was difficult not to feel insignificant. She shook it off, trying to summon up as much competency as she could muster.

The Shanty Town inhabitants who had breached the deactivated force field were of primary concern. Arthur Embry’s men seemingly knew just enough to be dangerous. But it was the Amaterasu that occupied the majority of the Counsellor’s mind. She wanted the opportunity to communicate with them before everyone started trying to neutralize them. For that reason alone, failure to stop the refugees was not an option.

It had been a mere 90 seconds since she had assumed responsibility for Kass’ monitoring of the situation, but Eve had managed to eyeball all aspects of what was going on. She began to understand the Marine’s frustration and responsibility. Dalziel herself felt incredibly impatient. Her first instinct had been to run down to the cargo bay with a phaser rifle and knock a few heads together. But as satisfying as that sounded, there were other places where she would be better utilized. So when Major Thytos offered a quick outline of her plans, Eve decided they were sound ideas and chose to help. It didn’t beat hand-to-hand combat, but very few things did, really.

An unintentional smile curved the corners of Eve’s mouth when she realized she had a somewhat private audience with a very captive Captain. When Kass said she wasn’t going to let him out of her sight, she wasn’t bullshitting. Her blunt honesty was one of several things the Cardassian born woman liked about her.

“Are you familiar with the incident on Velara Three… Sir?”

Kane was engrossed in the displays in front of him, falling back into tasks he hadn’t performed in years. Eve could practically hear his thoughts as he stared raptly at the screen. He wanted to know where all the interlopers were on the ship...*his* ship. He didn’t even seem to hear he question at first.

Behind them Martin Potter arrived, an antigrav sledge towed behind him, laden with several crates in the flat matte gunmetal grey that Marines seemed to love so much. Kassandra slung the crates off of the sledge and said something to Potter. Potter beamed and snapped off a salute, to which Kassandra waved one hand with weary dismissal. She opened the boxes and began assembling equipment.

“Sir?” Eve pressed, turning her attention back to the Captain.

“What? Velinda?” he answered with some irritation.

“Velara Three. Have you heard of it?”

Michael Kane shifted in his seat. “This seems like an odd time for a history lesson, Counsellor.”

“Call me an opportunist.” It wasn’t like they were going anywhere.

“You’re an opportunist.”

Eve smiled. She didn’t know the man even had a sense of humor, much less any way to access it.

“Feel better?”She asked dryly. When his only response was an amused-turning-authoritative look in her direction, she continued. “It was a terraforming colony that can be found en route to the Pleiades Cluster. The first phases of the project were successful, but equipment malfunctions caused delays that eventually got the attention of Starfleet, who sent a ship to investigate.”

“If they didn’t finish, that would explain why nobody’s heard of the planet,” Kane commented. His head turned to look as Kassandra let out a sharp profanity and the sound of metal on metal rang out, but he returned his gaze to Eve.

“The servos of their hydraulic probes and laser drills kept breaking down. By the time they realized it wasn’t a random malfunction, one of the crew on the outpost was killed.”

“Killed by sentient machines?”

Eve shook her head. “Not exactly. An energy-based life form had taken over the mechanisms claiming prior attempts to communicate with the humanoids there had been ignored, and that some of their own had been killed by those working on the terraformation.”

“The Amaterasu?”

Eve shook her head. “Not likely, these beings were made up primarily of silicon, germanium, and other substances that naturally created a superconductor array. But similar in that we don’t know if our visitors are trying to convey a message to us or what that message is... similar in that they have caused damage to people and property and we can’t tell if it was accidental or intentional. It’s imperative that we at least try to find out.”

“We have more pressing matters right now, Lieutenant.” His head snapped to the controls and monitoring in front of him, making sure no further encroachment had been achieved since the last time he had checked.

“Let’s be positive and assume we’re going to get through that,” she replied, trying to sound hopeful and coming across as more pragmatic. “The Amaterasu aren’t going anywhere and they’re not going to give us extra time to think about solutions just because we’re under threat of a mutiny.”

The CO looked tired, though whether from lack of sleep or from her’s sudden lecture, she didn’t know. He sighed. “You have a plan?”

“I’d like permission to approach Miss Chen and ask her about possible telepathic communications that could be made to the energy creatures. I’ve studied various melding techniques, but I don’t have the ability. Maybe she can act as a conduit of some kind to minimize the dangers.”

“I didn’t think Vulcans could ‘read’ Cardassians,” Kane said matter-of-factly.

“A primary reason for this is the years of mental training Cardassians employ as part of their upbringing. I was raised by a Human father and a Bajoran mother from the age of six. The only training I have had is in Bajoran meditations and some Vulcan techniques I learned during my time at the Academy. I can even ask Foster about a cocktail of medications that would make my mind more… pliable. But if her abilities are all everyone says they are, I’m not sure that will be necessary.”

“She’s currently in Shanty Town. So, regardless, our priority is cle-”

“Wait a minute- she’s *where*?”

“She asked to go where she thought her abilities would do the most good. I accepted her proposal.” He made it sound like a mundane decision, like picking towels for the guest bathroom. The woman had remarkable power that she had used in the recent past for her benefit only. How could that have changed so quickly?

“How long has she been there?”

“A few days, at least since she asked me, though she might have been down there longer,” he guessed aloud.

That wasn’t much time, but their guest had the capability to do a lot. Then again, with that many people at her disposal, Selyara could have already been well on her way to occupying the center seat if that was truly her wish. Eve had to consider the mutiny was not in any way due to the hybrid woman’s machinations. But there were still concerns in her mind that if Kane ever had in common, he had obviously worked through. “Captain, why do you trust Selyara Chen?”

Kane looked at her as though analyzing her, examining her. She kept her expression was now neutral, erasing her earlier annoyance under a bland mask.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” He tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice and was successful… almost.

“Not at all. I was just hoping you could explain it to me because if I have any chance of trying to work this thing out with the Amaterasu before they get disintegrated, I need to start trusting her myself.”

“I served with Selyara for five years, Lieutenant. She was the counselor on the USS Century when I arrived there after graduating the ACT,” Kane’s eyes didn’t waver from the screen in front of him. “She served as my XO for almost two years. She was-”

Suddenly Kane straightened at the station, his eyes brows furrowing.

“Someone’s trying to access Computer Core 3,” he said sharply, his fingers flying across his panel. Kassandra’s head swiveled around and she practically dove at him, stopping just short of pushing him out of the seat. “They’re accessing- wait- I think Selyara’s in the computer as well.” Kane frowned. “She’s blocking him for the moment and running some sort of minor subroutine. ”

Suddenly a flickering message showed up on the main view screen:

[[Michael. May I introduce Chaucer? I think you two might be a match made in heaven. He’s travelling with Embry, but wants to bring this to a peaceful resolution. Play nicely. I’m on my way up with Mister Barnes -Selyara]]

“Well, Major, I think we might have just been handed our miracle.” Kane leaned back, and looked up at Kassandra, who was hovering next to his shoulder reading the introduction from Chaucer. “With an inside man we should be able to bleed groups off of the main mob of rioters into areas we can shut them into and contain them, whittle down the number before they even get anywhere vital.”

The Major’s face split into a relieved shit-eating-grin, and her body language told Eve that it was all she could do to refrain from catching the Captain up in a celebratory hug and swinging him around the bridge. Instead Kassandra moved towards the door and began to drag the empty crate across the bridge so she could sit next to the Captain.

As Kassandra struggled with the crate, Captain Kane turned and caught Eve’s eye, and said quietly. “This is why I trust Selyara, Counselor.”

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Selyara’s hidey hole near the Auxiliary Computer Controls, deck 30.

Jacen wandered around the small computer junction, waiting for Selyara to finish what she was doing on her computer. She was engrossed in her work, and didn’t even seem to remember he was there. Certainly his questions had gone completely unanswered and she gave no indication she’d even heard him. He looked around the small junction again. A sleeping bag, same issue as the ones the refugees had, untouched, a single pack of rations, untouched, half empty beaker of water.

With a sharp yank she unplugged her display from the computer junction, stuck it into her belt, and stood up.

“Well, Mister Barnes, that’s my role in this sordid little affair taken care of. That Gorn Chaucer has agreed to help coordinate with the bridge. If I know Michael he’ll start bleeding off manageable groups of rioters, and send the Marines in to mop them up, ” she said, donning her gloves again. “Now I’m all yours, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I think we should try to make our way back to the cargo bay to get Embry. He’s the only one who can put this particular genie back in the bottle.” Barnes ignored her flirty, suggestive tone. He might not know much about her, but he knew it was an almost reflexive habit, a deflection to distract from anything of substance that she had to say.

She smiled.

“I would really to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s been outplayed. Not to mention that Savaar. Embry might be the face of this, but I think Savaar is the dangerous one.” She was silent for a long moment. “Do you know he had the nerve to call me a half-caste? As if being pure Vulcan is such a damn achievement.”

* * *=/\=* * *

Brought to you by:

Alix Fowler as:
Selyara Chen
Psychopath temporarily playing on the same team

Marine Captain Kassandra Thytos,
A woefully underpaid woman trying to stop an avalanche with a paperclip

and:

Susan Ledbetter as:
Eve Dalziel
A counselor with a captive patient

and
Shawn Putnam as:
Chaucer
A scaly green double agent.