By Jack Elmlinger and Christina Moore
_____
Personal
log, Vice-Admiral Tattok…
The Veritas and the Trident have returned
to Sanctuary. The Pericles was
damaged, so I’ve ordered her to Starbase 375 for repairs. I must admit some
concern regarding Gul Evek and the resurgence of the True Way movement.
Originally I thought that this assignment would simply entail bringing needed
supplies to the Cardassian people.
Instead, I
feel lost. I feel unsure of myself.
Counselor
DeMarco of the Veritas suggested counseling. Though I dislike
having to discuss my feelings with anyone other than Telka, I might just follow
his advice. Rkasi Cen was more than a friend—he was like a brother to me. I’ve
known him for twenty-three years, since I commanded the Lusitania.
I feel I
have failed him...
<>
The Veritas
led the way, maneuvering close to one of Sanctuary's upper pylons while the Trident moved to another. Tattok walked
onto the bridge, the doors to his ready room closing behind him. Everyone
seemed to be ready for his next command as they either sat or stood at their
stations.
“Report,” Tattok said as he moved towards the center
of the bridge.
“We're receiving docking clearance from Ops,” Buchanan
reported from the first officer's position. “And the Triumph has returned from their escort mission, just a few minutes
ahead of us.”
“Maneuvering to dock now, Admiral,” the pilot
announced from the helm.
Tattok merely nodded and looked at Buchanan. “I will
be on the station,” he said, turning toward the back of the bridge. The Roylan
was going to speak again but he didn't, escaping into the aft starboard
turbolift.
Rkasi Cen was escorted through the corridor, closely
guarded by a trio of Starfleet security officers. The Bolian barely looked up
except to avoid hitting anything while he moved. There was a lot of regret in
his heart and his sessions with Counselor Roijiana where helping, though there
was still one person that he needed to have forgive him.
His left arm still ached where Tattok had severed it
but it itched more after the medics had reattached it.
Cen looked up and saw that they had finally arrived at
the airlock. He turned to face fellow Bolian Dilik Zram, who stood with his
arms crossed.
“Your new accommodations are on Garon II. You might
like the place, Cen. All you do is sweat there and—”
“I've been to Garon II before, Chief Zram, and I don't
need you to spell it out for me,” he said, lowering his head again. “I know
that I'm going to die in prison.”
“If you had committed your crimes against one of my
people,” Dal Eton Kirek said, walking up from the opposite side of the
corridor, “then you would be dead already, Bolian.”
“What are you doing here?” Zram asked.
“Captain Natale asked me to—” The Cardassian was too
swift when he drew his phaser and fired it point-blank at Zram. Zram stumbled
and fell as Kirek fired at Cen's guards.
Cen looked at Kirek and said,” Why?”
“You have friends in the Maquis, brother,” the
Cardassian said before he tapped a device on his belt. The image of Dal Kirek
disappeared and a human in civilian clothes replaced him. He took another
device from his belt and pressed it to the Bolian's chest. “And you don't
deserve what the Federation has in store for you.”
They disappeared in a haze of transporter energy.
<>
“Zram to Natale,”
a groggy voice said over the Orion's communicator.
Synnove Natale tapped the commbadge on her nightstand,
raising her head up. “Go... go for Natale,” she said, fighting sleep
for consciousness.
“Cen, he... he's
escaped, ma’am.”
“What the hell happened?” she asked, fully alert now
and already getting out of bed.
“Ki-Kirek... he
shot me, Meyers and Albano outside the... the docking bay dur-during the...
“
“Chief, are you all right?”
“Med-medics to
Run…about Pad E. Secur-security alert,” the Bolian said before he went
silent.
Natale swore before tapping her commbadge again. “Natale
to Ops!”
“Lieutenant
Drakomavitch here,” the Gamma-Shift Officer-in-Charge answered her.
“Drako, shut down all departures and lock down the
station! We've just had a breakout!”
<>
It was getting late, but Jordan didn’t care. He’d stayed
up this long because he was waiting for the Trident
to return from their impromptu trip with the Veritas. He’d seen the reports and he knew everything was fine—they
just needed some dock time for repairs. No one had even been too seriously
injured.
But he couldn’t shake the anxiety, and that disturbed
him. He was a defense man, and his fear that Rogan had been hurt—despite
knowing otherwise—continued to linger, making him feel defenseless. Vulnerable.
It reminded him yet again that he hadn’t taken that last step, hadn’t told the
Bajoran that he had feelings for him that went beyond friendship. He’d wanted
to. But because Rogan was the first man in a very long time that he’d had these
kinds of feelings for, he was damn scared. Nobody liked being rejected, and
he’d been through it so profoundly that he’d sworn off relationships. It wasn’t
worth getting your heart cut out with a dull spoon.
He’d begun to think he was never going to fall for
anyone again, and as bittersweet as that was, he’d come to accept it. It was
better that way anyhow, because if he didn’t fall, he couldn’t break like he
had before. He’d discovered over the years that when he felt the urge, the need
for a physical release, there were those who were willing to provide the
no-strings-attached companionship he demanded—and when there was no one living,
there were always holograms.
Yet here he was, sitting at his desk in his quarters,
waiting for the Trident and the Veritas to return. He could have called
before now—they’d been gone for three days, after all. But like a freaking
teenager he’d waited because he didn’t want to seem too eager, didn’t want to
seem too forward. Now, though, they were on approach to the station and were
preparing to dock, and he figured the timing had to be right. He just hoped he
didn’t wake him up as he keyed the monitor on and opened a comm channel,
swallowing heavily when Enek appeared on the screen a few moments later without
his shirt on.
“Damn, I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“Not at all,” Rogan said, waving his words off. “I’ve
always been a late to bed, early to rise kind of guy. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing really,” Jordan said, hoping his shrug was as
nonchalant as he’d wanted it to be. He was looking at Rogan and seeing he was
fine—that was a relief. But seeing him shirtless was doing things to him he was
hard-pressed to control, and he swallowed again as he tried to tamp down on his
stirring libido.
“I just thought I’d check in, see how things were
holding up,” he said. “I heard you guys took fire protecting the Pericles and that civilian freighter.”
“The Sally Mae,
yeah,” Rogan said with a nod. “Repairs are coming along, thanks in no small
part to Yraxis, our engineer. I’m beginning to think that girl loves the engines
just a little too much—you shoulda seen how pissed she was.”
Kelley laughed, but before he could reply, the red
alert klaxon sounded. “What the hell?”
Rogan uttered the same words simultaneously, and
Jordan watched him enter commands into his computer. “We’re being ordered away
from the dock.”
Kat Drako’s voice came over the intercom—one of the
few things Grafydd had managed to keep in working order—and he heard her
declaring General Quarters.
“Shit,” he said, standing. “Sorry to cut this short
man, but I gotta go.”
“Me too,” Rogan said with a nod. “Hey Kelley—”
“Yeah?” he said, raising his eyebrow at the face on
the computer screen.
“Be safe.”
Kelley nodded. “You too, Rogan,” he said, then reached
down and switched the computer off. Then he tapped his commbadge. “Kelley to
Natale.”
“Natale here,
Commander. I need to you take a tricorder down to Runabout Pad E. Scan for
transporter residuals and Cardassian DNA. When you’re done, meet me at Eton
Kirek’s quarters.”
If he hadn’t been curious before, he sure as heck was
now. But he didn’t ask questions, he just acknowledged, and grabbing a
tricorder from a drawer, he set off to do as she’d ordered.
<>
Tired and hungry, Tattok stepped off the transporter
pad in Ops, yawning his fatigue. He hadn't slept or ate in the last three days
since the Veritas's first mission
under his command because it was the Season of Fralene. Wishing that tomorrow
would come sooner so he could partake of a feast, he suddenly perked up when
the red alert klaxon sounded.
“Report!” he shouted over the instant chaos. He had
beamed aboard the station alone, letting his staff settle any last minute
details involving the Veritas and its
crew.
“Oh, Admiral, I almost didn't see you!” the El-Aurian
watch officer exclaimed, looking up from the 'pool table'. Her eyes returned to
the display before her as she spoke, her Russian accent thick but
understandable. “We just got a report that Rkasi Cen escaped during the
prisoner transfer to one of the runabouts. Chief Zram reported that Dal Kirek
helped him escape.”
“Impossible!” one of the Cardassian officers said with
surprise. “The Dal—”
“Maintain your station,” the admiral said sternly,
walking down to the middle of the room. “Where is Captain Natale?”
“She's here, sir,” came her voice as she walked out of
the still-rising turbolift. “Report, Drako.”
“We've locked down all docking bays as well as the
upper and lower pylons, and Security is en route to cover each of them,” the
watch officer reported as the captain joined them. “Veritas and Trident have
been alerted and they've discontinued their docking procedures.”
“Ok, let's sweep the station with the internal sensors
and—”
“Internal sensors are still down,” Grafydd reported,
walking out of the turbolift on the opposite side of Ops. He had been awakened,
too, by the sudden red alert. “Don't you read my progress reports? That damned
saboteur's been at work again!”
“Saboteur?” queried Tattok.
“Admiral, that's something to talk about—”
“—now,” the admiral said, finishing her sentence.
“I gave the latest report to Captain Buchanan and—”
“Cen has escaped and there is a saboteur on the
station? You didn’t report this!”
Natale’s expression hardened as she looked down at the
Roylan. “Yes,” she said forcefully, “I
did. I turned in my report to your
new Chief of Staff, sir. I cannot be held accountable if she did not make you
aware of it immediately, as was her responsibility.”
“I have a ship leaving from Docking Bay 9!” Grafydd
said, checking over the external sensors.
Natale looked over at Drakomavitch. “I thought the
docking bays were locked down?”
“They were, Captain!” the El-Aurian declared. “He must
have undocked before the lockdown.”
“It's a Denobulan civvie freighter but it looks like
it's been fitted with weapons and—its firing!” Grafydd called out.
Tattok closed his eyes waiting for the station to
shake from the blow, but it didn't. “Where did they strike?” he asked the
four-armed Terellian engineer, turning to face him.
Grafydd tried to put an exterior image on the
viewscreen, but found that, once again, that part of the sensor system was
down. At least he was still able to get a conclusive sensor scan. “It hit the Triumph—if she’s knocked off her
moorings…”
“Tattok to Triumph,
report!”
<>
“Engineering reports a direct hit to the port nacelle,”
Lt. Lorynathka reported as the Defiant-class starship shook violently. “Damage
to the primary plasma conduits and the matter injectors.”
“Are we still moored? Has there been any damage to the
docking port or the airlock?” called out Captain Brian Wallace as he stepped
onto the bridge.
“Amazingly, sir, we’re still tethered, although there
is minor structural damage to the station’s docking port, as well as
microfractures in the hull where we’re connected,” Lory replied.
“Deploy damage control teams,” Lt. Commander Colin
Milligan ordered as he stood and vacated the command chair for his captain.
Wallace looked over at the tactical station as he took
his seat and Milligan stepped aside. “What hit us, Ensign?” the Scotsman asked
the young lady sitting at the station.
“The energy pattern resembles Klingon disruptors,” the
gamma-shift tactical officer reported. “Thank goodness for deflector shields.”
“Tattok to
Triumph, report!” Admiral Tattok's
voice came over the intercom.
“Triumph
here, Admiral. This is Captain Wallace.”
“What is your
status, Captain?”
Wallace looked at Lory and nodded.
“We took some structural damage in the way of
microfractures on our hull, sir,” the operations officer said. “Warp drive is
down, but then our core was at minimal power since we’re docked. There was also
some damage to plasma conduits and matter injectors in our port nacelle. Our
sensors are reporting damage to the station-side docking port, but it’s
minimal. We’re still tethered and environmental integrity has not been
compromised.”
“Lieutenant Haro will be so pleased to have more work
to do,” Wallace joked, though his tone belied his relief that the damage was not
more extensive.
“Coordinate with
the Veritas if you require assistance.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Any injuries to
your crew?”
Triumph’s captain looked once again toward
Tactical, where Milligan and the Gamma shift officer were checking their
readouts. The Human security chief straightened and shook his head. “No reports
yet, sir,” he said.
“I’m pleased to
hear it. Tattok out.”
Wallace sighed as he tapped some commands into one of
the consoles next to his command chair. “Alright, Mr. Milligan... Get me a full
damage report. Let’s see what that bugger did to my ship.”
A moment later the captain bolted out of his
chair. “I’ll be on the station,” he said. “Have someone bring me the report.”
Aielle Tam, Triumph’s
first officer, stepped onto the bridge then. “My apologies for being tardy. Are
we alright?” she asked.
Wallace nodded. “Commander Milligan can update you.
I’m headed over to the station to find out what just happened. You have the
ship, Ms. Tam.”
Tam nodded. “Aye, sir,” she replied, stepping over to
the command chair as Wallace left.
As he headed toward the transporter room on Deck 1,
Wallace tapped his commbadge. “Wallace to Natale.”
He waited through the few seconds of lag as first his
comm channel was patched through the ship’s internal systems, then from the
ship to the station. He sighed audibly when he heard her voice as he was
walking into the transporter room.
“Natale here.
Brian, where are you?”
“About to transport over to find out what the bloody
hell is going on,” Wallace replied to his long-time friend.
“Bring Lieutenant Haro
with you,” Sanctuary’s commander said, and he paused as he was entering
commands into the control console. Her words, her tone of voice, had him
immediately concerned.
“What happened?”
“Her uncle was
attacked. He’s going to be alright, but I thought—”
“Say no more, we’ll be there. Wallace out.” Triumph’s captain tapped his commbadge
to end the transmission, then tapped it again to open another channel. “Wallace
to Haro.”
“Haro here, Captain.
Looks like the damage isn’t as severe as the sensors made them out to be.
Nothing a couple hours and a little bit of elbow grease can’t fix.”
Relief that they hadn’t suffered major damage spread
through him. “Aye, that’s good news. Means your people can spare you. Standby
for transport,” he told her.
“Captain?”
Haro queried.
“It’ll be explained once we get there, Lieutenant,”
Wallace returned, keying more commands into the console to locate Haro—she was
indeed in Engineering—and setting it to transport the both of them to Ops.
“Aye, sir,”
the young Bolian replied.
The Scotsman tapped the last few keys, setting the
transporter for a five second delay, and hurried over to the transport pad. Ten
seconds later, he appeared next to Falora Haro on the pad in Sanctuary’s
control center.
“Captain Wallace, I am pleased that your ship and crew
fared well,” said Admiral Tattok as soon as the beam had dissolved around them.
Wallace nodded as he stepped down off the platform. “Thank
you, Admiral.”
“Triumph
will have to undock in order for my team and Commander Grafydd’s to repair the
external damage to the ship and station, though scans showed it should only be
about two hours’ work. Maybe less,” Haro reported.
Tattok nodded.
Natale stepped up to them then. “Lieutenant, Commander
Grafydd is going to beam you directly to Medbay.”
Haro frowned. “Medbay? You mean the Infirmary?” she
asked, not familiar with the new name Sanctuary’s doctor had given their
medical facility. Then her face fell. “My uncle? Is he alright?”
The Orion put a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Dr.
Garcia said it looks like he’s going to be alright—it was only a phaser stun.
But he did hit his head when he fell. I thought you should know he’d been hurt.”
Without a word the engineer stepped back up on the
transporter platform. Natale turned to Grafydd, who entered the commands to
beam her down to the hospital to see her uncle.
After she’d disappeared, Wallace looked between Natale
and Tattok. “Now would somebody please tell me what is going on? Why was my
ship fired on?” he asked. “And by whom?”
Natale glanced down at Tattok. “Someone helped Rkasi
Cen escape custody as he was being led to Runabout Pad E for transport to Garon
II. When Zram contacted me, he claimed it was Kirek.”
Before even the Cardassian who’d protested before
could speak again, Brian Wallace scoffed. “No way,” he said. “I know, I’m
hardly the man’s biggest fan, and I’m well aware of how he and Zram feel about
one another. But helping a Maquis operative escape? Even one that tried to kill
a three-star Starfleet admiral? Where’s the benefit? What’s his motive? It
doesn’t make sense.”
“He is right,” a large Cardassian security officer by
the name of Pavet spoke up. “I have worked with Dal Kirek for several years—he
would never assist a Maquis dog.”
The little Roylan admiral began to tremble, and Natale
could tell that, despite Cen’s betrayal, he didn’t much care for his being
referred to as a dog. She placed a calming hand on the admiral’s shoulder,
turning to Pavet to say, “Thank you, Dalin Pavet. I will take your opinion into
consideration.”
The way the dalin snorted told her he believed
otherwise, but he did not speak again and turned back to his console.
“Where is Kirek now?” Wallace asked.
“Confined to quarters,” Tattok replied.
“And chomping at the bit, no doubt,” mumbled Grafydd.
“Synnove?” the Triumph's
captain queried.
She turned to him. “When Zram told me Kirek attacked
him and the two security officers who were escorting Cen to the runabout, I
ordered a lockdown on his quarters, including a communications blackout. He’s
no doubt wondering what’s going on, why he can’t talk to anyone, and why he
can’t walk out the door. Commander Kelley is conducting detailed scans of the
airlock for evidence as we speak, though he should be finished by the time we
get to Kirek’s quarters to question him. He’ll meet us there.”
“And I take it Cen is the one who fired on the Triumph, then?”
Natale nodded, though it was Tattok who said, “Cen, or
the one who helped him escape.”
“Either way, Cen is gone and the Denobulan freighter
he escaped in had gone to warp before we had a chance to react. We alerted all
ships in the vicinity to keep a watch out for it,” the Orion went on. “The Veritas and the Trident took damage during the Pericles
affair and both ships need time to make repairs and catch a breather, or we’d
have sent one of those after him.”
“I agree.” Tattok stopped and looked up at Wallace. “It’s
unfortunate that the Triumph was also
damaged during Cen’s escape. You could have gone after them.”
“Yes,” the Scotsman said gruffly. “I’d like to get my
hands on him for damaging my ship and causing my engineer heartache.”
“We will catch him,” Tattok said determinedly. “But
first, we need to speak to Kirek.”
Natale nodded and gestured toward the turbolift. “Lead
the way, sir,” she said, following behind the Roylan with Brian Wallace falling
in last.
<>
On the way to Kirek’s quarters, Tattok questioned
Natale again about the saboteur. She reiterated what she’d told him earlier,
that she’d delivered a PADD with an updated report to Captain Buchanan when
she’d arrived—that she had, in fact, been making regular reports to Cen since
the incidents began. Cen had assured her Admiral Tattok was aware of the
situation and wanted her to keep him apprised.
Tattok emitted what sounded very much like a growl. “Cen
did not tell me about the sabotage,” he said. “His offenses are grievous indeed.”
When the three of them arrived at Eton Kirek’s
quarters, they found Commander Kelley already waiting outside the door. The two
Starfleet security guards she’d ordered posted stood at attention at the sight
of the diminutive admiral.
“Mr. Kelley, report,” Natale said.
“Well, you’re one for two, Captain,” Kelley replied. “I
scanned that airlock and the corridor leading to it in both directions. I did
pick up a residual transporter signature, but no Cardassian DNA—at least none
less than three hours old. I also picked up recent traces of Bolian and Human
DNA, the latter of which were three different samples. I’ve already checked
them against the medical database, and two of them are ours.”
“Means Kirek couldn’t have been the one to attack Zram
and the others,” Wallace observed. “Whoever helped Cen escape was Human.”
“It would appear so,” Tattok agreed. “But Chief Zram
said he was the one who attacked them. We must still speak to him.”
“Even Zram can’t hate him that much, to accuse him if
he’s innocent,” Kelley pointed out. “He had to have seen something.”
Natale shook her head. “I’m inclined to agree with
you, Commander. Even knowing him as I have come to these last few months, I
just don’t see Zram accusing an innocent man of anything, even one he hates.
It’s against his moral code. It would be nice if the damn internal sensors were
working, because then we’d have a visual record to show us for sure what went
down. Thank you, Mr. Saboteur.”
With a sigh, the dark orange Orion stepped up to the doors to Kirek’s
quarters. Nodding to the security guard by the key pad, she waited while he
turned and keyed in the override code that would allow them to open the door.
She braced herself in those few seconds, knowing that an angry Cardassian was
capable of just about anything.
She suspected he would shoot first and ask questions
later, for surely he had a weapon on him—he always carried one.
It wasn’t a phaser or disrupter blast that came flying
at her head, thank goodness, but what did come through the door could have done
nearly as much damage. Natale barely ducked in time to miss being hit by the
chair he let fly as soon as the doors were parted enough. The security guards
moved in to restrain him, followed closely by Brian Wallace and Jordan Kelley.
Tattok walked in at her side, and they found Kirek down on his knees, being
restrained by the two guards.
“You are lucky I am in no mood to go on trial for
murder, Orion,” Eton Kirek snapped
savagely, spitting out the last word as if it burned his lips to speak it. “Otherwise
your blood would be spilling all over that corridor right now.”
Natale caught sight of a muscle in Brian’s jaw
twitching out of the corner of her eye, and he took a step forward. He was
stopped by Commander Kelley, who laid a restraining hand on his arm. “And
you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to charge you with attempted assault on a
superior officer, Kirek,” she returned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Very
mature for a man of your age to be tossing furniture about in a fit of pique.”
“Try a fit of rage!” he bellowed. “By what flakking
right to you keep me prisoner in my own quarters?!”
Tattok seemed content, for the moment, to give her the
lead, and so she took it. “You were accused of assaulting three Starfleet
officers during the escape of Rkasi Cen, that’s what right.”
Kirek laughed bitterly. “Whoever uttered that lie
ought to be shot.”
“As a matter of fact, he was shot,” Natale snapped
back, her temper flaring. “Dilik Zram, Jake Meyers, and Kobe Albano are in the
hospital wing right now, being treated for phaser stuns. Chief Zram also hit
his head when he fell and developed a concussion.”
“And I suppose you’ve come to tell me that psychotic
Bolian has accused me of shooting him?” Kirek snorted. “Believe me when I tell
you that if I were going to shoot him, I wouldn’t have set my weapon on stun.
The concussion alone ought to tell you that the idiot was seeing things that
weren’t there.”
“Where have you been for the last thirty minutes?”
“Here in my quarters,” he snarled. “And yes, I was
alone. Of course, if we had internal sensors you’d know that already.”
Natale let the dig about the sensors slide. “I do
already know that, or at least I already know that you weren’t anywhere near
Pad E when Rkasi was transported away by someone who apparently did a damn good
job of impersonating you. Any idea why someone would want to impersonate you,
Dal Kirek, while helping an admitted Maquis terrorist escape custody?”
“It is obvious that whoever helped that dog wanted to
throw suspicion onto me, to keep you here wasting your time questioning me
rather than going after him,” Kirek replied snidely. “I am suddenly amused by
how well you fell for his ploy. Bravo for proving yourselves as gullible as he
thought you would be.”
“Enough, Dal Kirek,” Tattok spoke up, in a tone that
brooked no argument. “You have been cleared by Commander Kelley’s scans.
Officers, release him.”
The two crewmen holding Kirek’s arms behind his back looked
reluctant to do so, but nonetheless complied. The Cardassian shrugged them off
angrily as he got to his feet.
“I want justice for this,” he demanded.
“Justice for what, Kirek?” Natale asked.
“I have been falsely accused and unlawfully detained,
that is what,” her first officer spat.
“You’re wrong about that, Kirek,” said Tattok. “Though
it wasn’t actually you, you are the person Chief Zram saw. It is standard
procedure to detain a suspect until questioning.”
Kirek snorted derisively. “You can believe this is not
over. I will not stand for—”
“Kirek, let it go,” Brian Wallace said. “You’ve been
cleared of any wrongdoing, and I’m certain Synnove will make sure Zram is aware
of that.”
“If I may, what we need to be concerned with now,
besides recapturing Cen, is finding out just how his liberator impersonated
you,” added Kelley. “I should think you’d be a lot angrier with that guy for
getting you accused in the first place, for daring to insult your honor as a
Cardassian by even suggesting that you would aid a Maquis prisoner’s escape.”
“He’s right, Dal Kirek,” agreed Tattok. “With him you should be angry, not Dilik Zram.”
For a moment Kirek glared angrily. When he replied it
was only to say, “I’d like you all to leave now.”
Natale nodded and gestured for the security officers
to go. They nodded and walked out without a word. As she was leaving with
Kelley, Wallace, and Tattok, she spied the chair Kirek had thrown still lying on
its side in the corridor. She picked it up and carried it to the closed door,
then rang the buzzer.
“What the hell do you want now?” Kirek snapped when he
opened the door to find her standing there.
She gestured to the chair. “Thought you might want
this back,” she said. “Be glad I didn’t throw it at you—I wouldn’t have missed.”
“You can be sure, Captain Natale, that next time…” he
began, then leaned closer. “…neither will I.”
<>
“He didn’t even ask for an update,” Kelley observed as
they left at last.
Natale shrugged. “He’s probably too pissed off to care
right now.”
“I don’t like that threat he made against you,
Synnove,” Wallace said. “Perhaps you ought to consider having a bodyguard
around you for a while.”
“Captain Wallace,” she replied, purposely using formality,
“thank you for your concern, but I can handle Kirek.”
Wallace stopped, and though he controlled it quickly,
she hadn’t missed the look of hurt that flashed through his eyes. “I’m aware of
how skilled a fighter you are, seeing as I’ve known you for nearly twenty
years. But Cardassians are like elephants—they never forget, and that man has a
serious grudge against you.”
“I know the man despises me, Captain. Doesn’t mean I
need to start acting paranoid, and I certainly don’t need a bodyguard.”
Natale dismissed the subject by turning to Admiral
Tattok. “What would you like to do about Cen, sir?”
“Unsure,” Tattok confessed as they started walking
again. “My feelings on the matter are questionable. I would be most unreliable
to chase after Cen.”
At that moment, Natale’s commbadge chirped. “Grafydd to Natale.”
She tapped her badge, answering, “Yes, Commander?”
“I’ve got some
good news for you, Admiral Tattok, and Captain Wallace, ma’am,” her
engineer replied. “We just got word from
the Columbia that they came across a
Denobulan freighter on their long-range sensors. Captain Regan said given their
trajectory, it has to be the same one what took off from here, so they’re
giving chase.”
Jordan Kelley grinned. “No way that old freighter can
out-run a Nebula-class starship.”
“Indeed, Mr. Kelley. Thank you for the update,
Grafydd, that is good news. Natale out.”
“Good news indeed,” Tattok said as they continued down
the hall. A turbolift was at the end and he entered it. Natale and the others
did not follow the diminutive man.
He turned to Natale with a dissatisfied frown. “You
must find the saboteur. Sanctuary must
be defendable, inside and out. Vigilance must be constant, Captain.”
“Of course, Admiral. We’ll catch him,” Kelley said
before his CO could answer.
“Try not to be overconfident, Commander. Now you must
excuse me”
The turbolift swallowed him then, leaving them to
carry out their orders.
=/\=
Cardassians have such 'tude... Must be all that neck cartilage...
ReplyDeleteHehehe... Eton Kirek is a man full of bottled up emotions, most of which is self-righteous indignation. When i get back to writing Trek one of these days, I've plans to soften the relationship between him and Natale. There will always be some sniping and attitude, but they will come to respect each other eventually.
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