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They Want You (Chapter One)

Posted on Jul 10, 2018 @ 11:50pm by Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Jul 10, 2018 @ 11:50pm

Mission: Blue Planet

“They Want You - Chapter 1”


Location: EARTH
Scene: SFA - Memorial Garden

It was a strange day, the 8 year old boy thought. Sitting on a stone bench under the San Francisco sun the boy sat on the planet he had been born on but hadn’t been on for a few years. They had come back to EARTH to drop off his older sister, Erika, in New York at drama school. That had taken all morning. It was weird, Ben thought to himself, he was slowly losing siblings. Last year, his brother Gavi went off to Bolarus IX to help with the refugee movement. Now, Erika wanted to be an actress.

Sighing, he kicked back on the stone bench, as he shielded his blue eyes from the sun. Any stop on EARTH meant a stop at SFA; his mom knew a bunch of people here so they always stopped here. Looking over he saw that his sister was over at her father’s stone with their mother. He watched as he his sister walked back over to him while their mother walked in another direction.

“Hey fathead,” Ben said once Dahlia came over.

The Bajoran/Bolian/Human teenager glared as she pushed her brother’s feet aside while sitting down. “Fartface,” she replied.

“Where’s mom?” he asked. When Dahlia looked over he said, “I’m hungry.”

“Again?” Dahlia complained. The teenager rolled her eyes and sighed, “She went to visit Daisy’s plaque. She’ll be back in a minute.”

Ben nodded; he kinda figured as much. At the end of Memorial Gardens was a wall of those who were Missing In Action. “Hey Dee,” he said.

His sister, recognizing the change in name and its indication of something serious, tried to cut him off at the pass. “I’m not taking you to the cafeteria without mom. She’ll freak if something happens to her baby.”

Ben ignored that. “What do you think mom will do when my dad dies?” When Dahlia looked over at him, the boy explained his thinking. “When your dad died, she had the stone put up with the flowers. When Daisy went missing she had the plaque with daisies. But I don’t really see my dad liking flowers. So...a plaque with those spark plugs he had around his quarters?”

Dahlia rubbed her face at that. “There are SO many things wrong with that. They’re divorced first of all,” she muttered.

Ben didn’t blink at that. “They said they still loved each other.”

“Oh-my-gods-and-prophets, they just said that so you’d stop crying,” Dahlia said dramatically as she dropped her head in her hands, conveniently skipping over the fact that she cried too when Xana and Jake divorced. “Asking mom to plan Jake’s hypothetical funeral might be taking it a bit too far, Ben,” Dahlia pointed out. Lifting up her head she said softly, “Besides...we’ve talked about this. You know mom is dying.”

Ben tapped his foot. “Uh-huh.”

“You know what this means,” Dahlia explained slowly.

“I’m not an idiot,” Ben sullenly replied.

“What does it mean,” Dahlia prompted anyway.

Ben looked at his sister. “Mom is really sick. It’s why she has 10 hypos next to her bed that she takes every day.” When his sister just stared at him he said, “I know the order of the hypos too if you want. First is the green hypo, then it’s 2 blue and that’s before breakfast--”

Dahlia sighed (she was always sighing, Ben thought to himself) and interrupted him. “So what does that mean?”

“It means she takes lots of hypos,” Ben pointed out.

“Ben, she’s dying,” Dahlia replied.

The 8 year old boy shook his head. “Mom is going to outlive us all.”


Scene: Venice, Italy - Bonviva Villa

“As one of your constituents, I want to know what’s going on.”

Xana Bonviva sat in a large chair in study of the Bonviva Villa and stared up at the proud, bald, bifurcated Bolian woman standing before her. Folding her hands on the desk, Xana looked every bit the Councilwoman from BOLARUS IX in her smart dark gray suit as she sat behind the desk and and stared at the elder woman across the way. “I’m just waiting for the--” Xana muttered under her breath.

Yanthe Bonviva banged her long ebony walking stick on the floor repeatedly as she glared at her eldest child. “Speak up, girl! I’m a constituent and I demand to know why my Bolian representative is on EARTH!”

“And there we go,” Xana nodded to herself, satisfied at the turn of events. It wouldn’t be meeting with her mother if her mother didn’t start making outrageous demands of her children. “Hello, mother, charming to see you too. Two of your grandchildren are here as well.”

Yanthe rolled her eyes at that. “Stop placating me, I know this,” she sniffed. “Your father is being disgusting; stuffing their faces with chocolate and playing *games* with them.” Waving her hands in the air she said, “Do not worry, later I will straighten them out and mold them into proper Bolian young adults.”

Xana leaned over in her chair, her violet eyes narrowing as she appeared to be studying something. “It’s amazing. I’d think that stick would be further up your--”


Xana Bonviva sighed and gave into the inevitable. Sitting up she explained the reason for her return, the same line that her office was giving out (that her mother could have found on any piece of literature but clearly needed her own briefing for). “The Federation Council is starting to look into relocating back to EARTH. As BOLARUS IX has always had strong relations with EARTH, it made sense that I would volunteer to be part of this group to investigate if EARTH is ready for a Federation government.”

Yanthe gave a look. “I can accept that,” she sniffed. After a moment of tapping her walking stick she said, “Is that all?”

Inhaling, the Bolian Councilwoman looked briefly up to the ceiling hoping for divine intervention, a terrestrial calamity, or something to interfere with the parental interrogation. When nothing appeared to be forthcoming she conceded to the inevitable and confessed to the information that was not publicly available as she looked at her mother. “It’s no secret that I’m dying. Everyone knows this. All we don’t know is when. So be that as it may, I want to die at one of my homes,” Xana said quietly. “I want Dahlia and Benito to be near family when it happens; I want Gavi and Erika to have a base of support if they need it. I don’t know when it will happen but when it does they will all need support.”

Yanthe glared. “You’re not dying.”

“Mother, you’re *not* helping. Benito is having a hard enough time; he says the same thing. He doesn’t need his grandmother saying it too,” Xana pointed out.

The elder Bolian woman gave a rare, small, smile. “I knew that boy took after me.”

Xana opened her mouth to say something to *that* frightening remark but then saw her comm flash with the Council symbol. “I need to take this, Mom.” After her mother wandered out, the Bolian Councilwoman sighed, tapped in her code and saw the Vice President on screen. “Good Afternoon, Vice President.”

{{Councilwoman,}} the Vice President said. {{We need you to head up a delegation during the Council break.}} After a pregnant pause the Vice President said, {{At least that’s what we’re saying it is.}}

Xana tilted her head to the side; she was fairly certain she heard that correctly but it was as if the words were not coming together in her brain. “I thought I was leading the delegation to certify if EARTH was ready for a Federation government?”

The Vice President’s head shook in the negative. {{That will shift to our Deltan representative. We will need you to go ELANDIPOLE.}}

“I need to what now?” Xana asked. Sighing she ran her long blue fingers through her white hair. “And ELANDIPOLE is a Federation protectorate. Why am I leading a delegation there?”

The Vice President appeared to be sipping a steaming beverage while Xana was talking; so it took a moment to put down the mug and respond. {{It’s always in Council’s best interests to visit our protectorates…}}

“I agree. However, I’m not on the planetary oversight committee; nor am I on the committee for--” Xana started off before she was cut off.

{{They asked for you. The delegation is a cover. No one *wants* to send you. Not Starfleet, not the Diplomatic Corp, not Section 31, least of this Executive Branch. But they want *you*,}} the Vice President said, vacillating between confusion and exhaustion.

It was true that the Bolian Councilwoman and the Vice President were from opposite factions, although both did their best to maintain a public façade of cooperating. Private...well there was no holding back.

“I appreciate the candor,” Xana replied dryly. “So who is it that is asking for the Bolian Councilwoman?”

{{It’s not the Bolian Councilwoman; they want *you*. And we don’t know why. Through the usual diplomatic and operative channels we have received requests for you to make contact with Mavia,}} the Vice President said, the words carrying weight.

Xana looked at the screen for a moment. “I take it that name is supposed to mean something to me?” When she got a glare she said, “I’ve served in many roles over the years -- Starfleet, Diplo Corp, Federation Government--”

{{Save me your resume, Bonviva.}}

“I’m just saying I’ve met a lot of people and this name is not ringing a bell,” the Bolian Councilwoman finished off as she leaned in. “Can you tell me a message? Anything else?”

{{They’re asking for *you*. No one else! The entire government has sent other people! No one else will do for some reason,}} came the huffed reply as hands went flying into the air across subspace. {{So go to ELANDIPOLE, find this Mavia, figure out what she or he wants, and report back to me.}}

“I serve at the pleasure of the Bolian people and the Federation government,” Xana replied smoothly. “I’ll report back to you...and the President.”

Eyes darted around, and a fine sheen of perspiration was visible even on the vid. {{I will be handling this matter.}}

Xana leaned back in her chair, already trying figure out how to get a word to the President about this matter; Gods above and below knew she didn’t trust the Vice President and this whole matter was just another bit of fuel for that fire. “I will leave as soon as I can make arrangements.”


Sarah Albertini-Bond
~writing for~
Councilwoman Xana Bonviva

There are things known and things unknown and in between are the doors.
-Jim Morrison


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