Loose Ends

Posted on Oct 19, 2017 @ 7:07pm by Lieutenant Tomas' Vukovic

Mission: Fear Itself

"Loose Ends"
(continues from "Close Enounters")

=/\=

USS PHOENIX
Star Date: 2.17.1019.1232
Location: Bridge

Holy, mother-freakin' crap! Tomas' shouted in his head. Maximum Warp ... Raise shields or we're all dead! ... or ... FULL STOP!!!

There didn't seem much middle ground on the PHOENIX. It was beginning to get to him, he admitted to himself. Missions could be tough. It wasn't like he hadn't been in the thick of battle before. Section 31 dragged its operatives through all kinds of stuff, but at least there he didn't have a ship and crew to worry about while he was dodging incoming fire. This was a whole different thing. He hadn't seen this kind of blithering nonsense since the GATE and the Dominion War. He needed some down time to regenerate, first off.

Right on cue, a small screen that normally showed thrust capacities of the maneuvering jets fritzed and went blank. Then the number "4" appeared. It was Section 31's calling card, for him at least. Three plus one equals four. He had three separate members in his particular cell, and he was the "plus one." Thirty-one. Surreptitiously he made a connection with his BORG tech, felt the flash download into his neural net, and he disconnected. It was the first time he'd been contacted by Section since boarding the PHOENIX, and the particular messaging system he'd just used told him something he really didn't want to know. It meant there was another Section officer on board. The messaging system was extremely short range to avoid detection. With the PHOENIX still in deep Romulan space, there was no one else anywhere close enough to do it. This contact could be one of his own cell, or it could be a lone operative. Or it could be one of the Romulan legislators.

He played the message internally and grimaced.

"Mr. Vukovic," Kane snapped.

"Sir?"

"Wool-gathering, Mister?"

"Sorry, sir. Just ... a little dazed."

"Aren't we all," Kane grunted. "I'm sending you along to escort your personal Tribune back to her ship. Make sure she doesn't take any Federation tech with her, please. That would be unfortunate."

"Yes, sir."

Tomas' locked out the station and turned it over as the Helm One A, a pilot Tomas' still hadn't met formally yet, slid into the seat and brought the panel back up.

"I relieve you," he said.

"That's a relief," Tomas' muttered under his breath.

The pilot half-smiled, but didn't look away. Good man, Tomas' thought.

He collected Jemasun Tor, from the officer lounge under security's watchful eye. She was not exactly pleased to see him. And the feeling was mutual.

"Just so we're clear," he said, "your philosophy sucks."

"Clear, is it?" the Tribune frowned. "Or just discourteous?"

"Oh, definitely discourteous. D'era may be all kittens and puppies for you," he said, intentionally opaque in his colloquialism, "but we take a dim view of people who want to stomp on our throats. We tend to get up and stomp right back."

"Well," she smiled her very sharp smile, "that makes it all the sweeter."

He offered his hand to her as she stepped up onto the transporter pad, his face a mask. For a moment she seemed surprised, and when she took his hand, and found the small item he'd secreted there, her face also became a mask.

She stepped away, and he said curtly "Energize!"

She was gone.

And with it an encrypted message from Section 31. He had no idea what it said. He might never know that. To be honest, he really didn't want to know what it said. He hoped it said: "Bite me! Yours truly, Section 31." But he really didn't think that was the message.

=/\=

Scene: Counselor's Office

"How are you faring, Lieutenant?" Eve Dalziel asked, leaning slightly forward in the chair at her desk.

"Just swell, Counselor," Tomas' replied. "Fine as frog's hair."

Eve sat back in her chair, tapping her lips with a stylus. Lieutenant Tomas' Vukovic had just appeared in the outer office and asked to see her. He'd used the excuse that he hadn't stopped in for his mandatory counseling session upon boarding, but it was clear something else was on his mind. And also clear that he wasn't interested in talking about it. Like that never happened, she smiled to herself.

"Been hectic the past few days," she offered.

Vukovic nodded and shrugged almost comically. He seemed to think that was understatement.

"We do seem to leap where angels fear to tread," she said.

He was agitated. Really agitated.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked, standing suddenly. "You want a drink?"

"It's a little early for me," Eve replied, but she gestured to the replicator in the wall. "However, help yourself."

He got up and paced directly to the replicator.

"Water, thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit," he ordered, then snatched the glass that materialized and drank it down in one gulp. "Repeat." He drank this one down more slowly and brought a third back to his chair.

"Thirsty?" she asked him.

"I'm due to regenerate soon," he explained. "Body processing is losing precision."

"You're getting hungry?" Eve asked.

"In a sense," he nodded.

"Maybe we can get something more to your taste in the Vulgar Tribble," she suggested.

He looked at her oddly, as if seeing her for the first time. Then he shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

=/\=

Scene: Vulgar Tribble

Which was how they found themselves at the bar in the Vulgar Tribble, listening as Kane and Chef Bonviva interacted about the recent change in decor. Tomas' was wolfing cheese puffs and asparagus tarts, his eyes lancing across the room. Eve, as usual, was impressed at Iffie's ingenuity.

"Slow down there, Cy," the blue-skinned chef grinned at the BORG lieutenant. "You're going to get a stitch. And you want to taste those."

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly. "I'm ..."

His hand began to shake. He slumped against the bar.

Even jumped forward, kept him from hitting his head on the way to the floor.

Kane was there immediately.

"How long since he regenerated last?" he wanted to know.

Iffie and Even shrugged.

He started to call for an emergency medical team, but Iffie stopped him.

"I've got what he needs back in the kitchen," she explained.

Kane hefted the helmsman over his shoulder with Eve's help, and they followed Iffie to a small corner space out of the way of the rest of the kitchen. They stood him into an alcove, and heard it come thrumming to life as it locked onto his implants. His body went rigid, then relaxed.

"A good host is always prepared for what a guest needs," she smiled at Kane and Eve. "I'll watch him."

Kane nodded to them and turned away. Eve lingered a bit, then smiled.

"Something's bothering him," she told Iffie. "Something important."

Iffie nodded. When Eve finally left them alone, Iffie reached up and touched the man's cheek ... gently.

"What's wrong, Cy?" she asked sotto voce. "What kept you from regenerating long enough that you collapsed?"

Tomas' didn't answer.

=/\=

But something did.

=/\=

NRPG: Sorry for my absence, folks. Real life just all-consuming. But finally, I got some play time, and the chance to advance a personal subplot or two.


Kenneth Field
the voice of Lieutenant Tomas' Vukovic
Helm One
USS PHOENIX