ftp.ee.pdx.edu/2014.02.ftp.ee.pdx.edu.tar/ftp.ee.pdx.edu/pub/frp/stories/startrek/adv2/turn24

Text File | 1994-09-10 | 35KB | 731 lines

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                           Star Trek: Play by E-Mail
                              The Forbidden Years
                               Campaign Write-up
===============================================================================
                                 Adventure #2
                              A Matter of Policy
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                   Turn #24
                                The Big Meeting
===============================================================================
              Copyright 1994 Jim Vassilakos / All Rights Reserved
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  Cast & Crew
  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ST-PBeM GameMaster       Jim Vassilakos      [e-mail]
  Lt. T'lar                Ronnie Simonds      [e-mail]
  2nd Lt. Morchainte       Brian Chrisman      [e-mail]
  Lt. Cmdr. Duran          Tony Hayes          [e-mail]
  Lt. St. James            John Brengman       [e-mail]
  Lt. Cmdr. de la Sangre   Carlos Jensen       [e-mail]
  Lt. Cmdr. Hawkins        Tony Hayes          [e-mail]


Administrivia:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since the last installment of this long-winded saga, our gallant heroes managed
to serch the ship from stem to stern, from port to starboard, from the warp
drives to the infamous trash compactor (wait, there's no trash compactors in
Star Trek; not *yet*, that is). To make a short story even shorter, they didn't
find any trace of this so-called 3rd chameleon. They've since been called into
a general meeting in order to sort out what they know and decide on a course of
action. Those present are: LeBonk, Nien, Duran, Hawkins, tr'Remas, de la
Sangre, Bellasario, St. James, T'lar, Tsandzia, Dr. O'Neil, and (last but not
least) Commodore Ash. At the point we pick up with the action, they've all been
given a vague synopsis of what's been happening up to now (which is to say,
they all know that Sarin is aboard the Phobos, currently under both armed guard
and a makeshift protonic field set-up by T'lar). One final note: the two
Romulan Warbirds are *still* hanging out making repairs, and as you can
probably guess, neither side is particularly happy about it.


Stardate 6003.27 at 1800 hours: USS Excalibur, Conference Room
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I still think we ought to just blast them," Gunner mutters, still upset over
the loss of his friend.

"And risk triggering an interstellar war?" Ash winces and takes another sip of
tea, feeding a bit to blobby #5.

"Did you really have to bring those things, doctor?"

O'Neil shrugs toward the Captain. "Believe me... it wasn't my idea." He eyes
Tsandzia from across the table. The Calainian princess doesn't notice, however,
watching instead the litter of blobbies as they make their way along the table
surface from one officer to another.

T'lar peers curiously at one of the greenish, translucent blobs of slime.
Curiosity finally breaks her down, and she produces a tricorder and scans a
few, looking for similarities to chameleon-readings. Of course, they do not
produce a positive reading on the chameleon detection program. Nonetheless,
their ability to directly absorb nutrients and so forth makes them rather
unusual. "Fascinating," she murmurs, thinking to herself, 'They toil not,
neither do they spin... but they seem to consume a great deal.' While doing
this, she studiously scans everyone at the table. No chameleons present. None
expected. Security has taken care of that matter.

Then T'lar glances toward Tsandzia who is seated beside her. The Calainian has
her tricorder out now also.

"Great mind think alike," T'lar suggests, just before noticing that Tsandzia's
tricorder is pointed the wrong way.

"Yeah. I'm making sure that _I'm_ not one of those chameleon thingies."

T'lar winces, "I hope you don't find what you're looking for."

Vince, meanwhile, looks the 'blobbies' over with disgust. "Is this some new
type of desert you people have been working on or what?" He points to one of
the semi-sentient blobs on the table, making no attempt to hide the disgust in
his voice.

Tsandzia harrumphs, but remains quiet, deciding that now is not the time for
discussion of the amazing blobby. She looks up, "Funny to think that the
Phobos, in its dismal shape, is the safest place for Sarin."

"I fear it may be so over the long term as well," the Captain states. "Now that
Sarin is presumed dead, and we know that there is still at least one chameleon
on the loose, we don't dare reveal him."

"So what do you suggest?" Gunner looks up from his gloom.

"We have to send the Phobos on an errand. To a repair facility perhaps. It
certainly needs one."

Ash frowns, "Albuquerque Station _is_ a repair facility."

"Then we'll have to devise some excuse as to why it isn't good enough. The
shortfall is that the Phobos is in a prime position to sneak away with Sarin.
We can have it deliver him to his conference and send word to the Klingons
secretly that he will be there, despite the rumors of his demise."

Tsandzia nods, "Okay, so the Phobos is going to take Sarin to Rigel while
pretending to be just on a mission to another repair facility. I would suggest
we move _immediately_, while those two warbirds are still sitting there,
uncloaked and damaged. They don't have any reason to be suspicious of the
Phobos, but just in case they are, it'd be best to be out of here as soon as
possible."

Hawkins looks up, "I agree. If you're gonna do this, you should plan on
departin' soon. The sooner the better, in fact. Y'all won't be able to keep
this hushed up for long, and the longer ya wait the less lead time the Phobos
will have. And don't forget, there's still one of those chameleons runnin'
'round out there somewheres." One of the blobs slithers towards Hawkins. He
leans forward to look at it. He pokes it gently with his finger and grins.
Then he leans over and speaks very softly, "So you're one of those little guys
who can eat through a force field, huh?"

Duran rolls his eyes and suppresses the urge to ask the Captain when the
conference room became a petting zoo. Meanwhile, Vince stares around at the
others, finally meeting eyes with the Commodore. "I agree with the others, sir.
It is a golden opportunity for the Phobos. If we leave right now, we could get
a head start on them, perhaps too large for them to catch up. If we give them
time to repair their ships, they will be able to follow us while cloaked, and I
doubt the Phobos will be able to detect them as the Excalibur did."

Gunner frowns, "Why don't we just bring him aboard the Excalibur. They'd never
dare attack a capital ship."

Vince shakes his head, "If we remain here we allow the chameleon a new shot at
the Ambassador."

"No chameleon is gonna get aboard the Excalibur. Mark my words."

"They'll find a way. Never underestimate the tenacity of the Romulans." He
casts a hard glance at Oein, who has so far remained utterly silent. "The
Phobos is a small ship, unimportant, and utterly beneath their notice. It will
be easy to leave the area without attracting much attention. Then we will be
safe enough, in the heart of space. It's the best chance we have. The Excalibur
is just too big, and attracts to much attention to undertake this mission. The
Ambassador would be a sitting duck."

Tsandzia muses, "Perhaps we should have the Excalibur boarding up and preparing
to leave as well. If the word has leaked 'somehow' that Sarin is still alive,
having the Excalibur leave port might draw some attention away from the Phobos.
It does have rather important testing runs to do, if I remember correctly."

Kris leans back in her chair while looking at a blobby, wondering how Pesty
would react to one. Either her siamese would eat the blobby, or worse, the
blobby might eat the cat.

"Sirs, I kinda hate to be away from Sarin for any longer than I have to.
Despite the fact that his new suite is a transporter null zone, the rest of the
Phobos isn't. During the time of this conference, the third chameleon could
have transported aboard. Since the journey to Rigel will take us further away
from Romulan territory, any attempt by the Romulans to follow us would be
stupid, and while I think the Romulans are many things, stupid is not one of
them. This team of chameleons was expendable, and assuming the last one is
aboard the Phobos, we should take off as soon as possible. Once we have the
ship safely away from the neutral zone, we can catch the intruder more easily."

LeBonk takes a deep breath, "Okay, then it's decided. The Phobos will depart
the starport at the earliest possible convenience." She pauses for a moment,
then looks at T'lar, "How long with that be?"

"Well, we're down to under half crew. And we have a lot of maintenance left to
do just to get her spaceworthy."

LeBonk nods, staring slowly around the table, her eyes finally fixing on Oein.
"Lt. Commander tr'Remas. It might be useful to have someone such as yourself in
command of this expedition."

"I believe regulations dictate that the Phobos, being under Albuquerque
command, can only be offered to an officer under Commodore Ash. Furthermore, I
believe that he should be making the decisions here. Not a committee."

A deathly quiet descends upon the conference table, except for the blobbies who
continue to wiggle and waddle their way from one officer to another.

Finally, Ash nods in acquiescence, "It would be raising too much of a specter
for any of the officers aboard this ship to take command of the mission." He
turns toward LeBonk. "How soon will the Excalibur be leaving port?"

"We will not leave until the Romulans have left."

Ash strokes his chin, "In that case, your engineer can help the Phobos get
ship-shape for it's bon-voyage. Lt. Cmdr. de la Sangre?"

"Sir?"

"I offer you command of the Phobos. As first officer aboard the Graz, I don't
believe that your re-assignment would raise any eyebrows."

"Sir... I..." Vince looks around the room, still stunned. He imagines that most
of the others had been hoping for this position, while he'd simply hoping to
get aboard the ship. "Sir, I am deeply thankful."

Ash winces, "Don't thank me, Commander. Thank Mr. tr'Remas."

Vince nods, unsteadily, "When do I start, sir?"

"Immediately if not sooner. You may pick your command team from those who lack
enough sense to apply." Ash gets up from the table, surveying the ring of
officers with a doubtful stare. "If you are successful, this mission may
scarcely be noticed by the powers that be. If you fail, however, I wouldn't
doubt that your names will be long-remembered." He turns and leaves, perhaps to
get back to his program involving the image of Nien and a hand of poker cards.

Everyone looks toward Vince, wondering if the meeting is finally over. Suddenly
the awkward quiet is broken as Tsandzia gets up from her seat and extends a
gloved hand, "Congratulations, Cmdr. de la Sangre."

"Thank you," he stares about, unsteadily, "I think. In all honestly, I would
have accepted a position as Assistant Latrine Scrubber to get aboard the
Phobos. I imagine that many of you felt the same way. But, as the Commodore
said... there isn't must glory in this, and the downside is steep. We need a
top-notch crew for this mission."

Tsandzia winces, "I think we should go with a minimum of crew alterations." She
sits back down. "Remember, officially speaking, this is a nothing more than a
simple repair mission. Running at half crew is standard procedure in such
circumstances."

Vince walks over to the head of the table where Ash stood just a minute ago. "I
agree, we should minimize the regular crew positions, but I will still need to
get good and reliable officers to lead the crew. Not only do we have to make
the trip, but we have to try and get the Phobos as combat-ready as possible in
the shortest possible time. We can't just hope the Romulans won't follow. I
hope everybody sees that."

"There will be have to be a trade-off between secrecy and preparedness,"
Bellasario chimes in.

"Exactly. Most of you have gotten deeply involved in this case, and I know you
would like to see it through to the end. The problem is we can't attract too
much attention." Vince paces up and down a bit, thinking things over, knowing
it is an important decision he is making. "Lt. Cmdr. Hawkins, we need you on
board. You are the best engineer I have ever seen, and we will need your skill
to keep the Phobos together, and should we be followed... well, let's just say
you're the only person I know to be able to find a cloaked ship." Vince bites
his lip, as he looks to Hawkins. "I'm depending on you. Will you come over?"

Hawkins looks shocked. "Well, I'm honored to say the least, sir. I would be
happy to accept but," he looks at LeBonk, "I would need Capt'n LeBonk's
approval and I would need to know if this is a permanent reassignment or just a
loan for this... trip." He looks expectantly at LeBonk.

LeBonk stares back at him. "We'll be picking up the Laeraloth ev Prax at Beta
Draco. You really want to miss working with the Excalibur's chief architect?"

"I'll catch up."

"Aboard what?"

"Dixie, o' course. Unless you're hoofin' it, it'll catch ya for sure!" He
grins, "How 'bout it, Captain?"

Her mouth twists into a silent frown, "Very well. But try not to get yourself
killed. Your the best engineer I've got."

Hawkins grins, "Aye sir!"

There's a stifled groan from across the table. Tsandzia looks somewhat
distressed. Even a bit angry.

"You had something more to say, Lt. Morchainte?"

Tsandzia frowns, "Sir, you are absolutely right. Cmdr. Hawkins is the best
engineer around. That is exactly the reason he _can't_ be reassigned to the
Phobos. What are we going to tell the engineering section? I can't see them
believing that Chief Hawkins is just going on a routine repair mission aboard
the Phobos... it doesn't hold water... it's just plain stupid." Tsandzia stops
abruptly, realizing that she has once again let her mouth babble on, out of
control. "Umm... I'm sorry, Captain... I didn't mean to..."

LeBonk is about to respond when Hawkins abruptly intercedes. "You may have a
point there, Lieutenant, but not the one you think. Perhaps all of the Science
Department should be transferred. It would look odd for a vessel on its way to
repairs to have a science department. All it needs is Engineering, Security,
Helm, and Navigation. Drop all the others off on the station and have them
reassigned to other ships."

Tsandzia stares back with a look of amused annoyance on her lips. Instead of
defending his assignment, this joker is attacking hers. Interesting tactics.
Not fair. Just interesting. Tsandzia sighs, only semi-impressed. "I was
figuring that I was going to be on the Phobos after it was repaired. I didn't
see any reason why they would need to reassign me. If they did, well, that
would mean they weren't planning on having the Phobos in service for quite some
time."

"Oh, you can bet your garters that the Phobos will return to port after it's
finished transporting the Ambassador. Until then, you might as well just hang
around the Albuquerque. I'm sure you could use the rest."

Tsandzia grits her teeth, "A science crew may not be necessary for a repair
mission, but wherever the Phobos does get sent to for repairs, I'm going to
have to be there anyways when it gets out of spacedock. But instead of changing
the subject and questioning my position, why don't you try to justify your
own."

Hawkins looks toward Vince, as though asking for permission to continue the
discussion, and for once, Vince takes a word of advice from his own Captain.
'If they want a decision, give them one. If they want to argue instead,
let them. But if they want to get bloody about it, just make sure they all see
that you're the one holding the knife when the fight's over.' Vince nods, "Go
ahead, Commander."

"First of all, the Excalibur is in excellent shape, and the Phobos is so bad
off it needs to be moved to a different facility, or so the story will be.
You'll grant me that much?"

"Continue."

"Okay. Who better to oversee the move and subsequent repair than the engineer
responsible for the construction of the newest ship in the fleet not to mention
the future flagship? Especially if we say that we're looking at a redesign that
will dramatically upgrade the old Loknar class to a frigate suitable for
today's fleet. That would explain my presence."

"So you're just going to march around under the guise of the all-purpose refit-
specialist." Tsandzia stares at him, a bit incredulous. "Look, Commander. No
disrespect intended, but let's not give them any more reason to want the Phobos
destroyed. No matter what reason you give, your moving to the Phobos _will_ be
noticed, especially by the Excalibur and it's crew. It's just something that
everybody will know about." Tsandzia looks at Duran and St. James, "Of course,
I'm not really knowledgeable much in the game of security and espionage, as I
have proven well enough before. What do you two think? I was just thinking we
should be as discrete as possible, that means not attracting _any_ attention
for _any_ reason."

T'lar finally stirs. "Anything will draw attention. It's the job of
intelligence forces to be suspicious of everything. It can't be avoided. I
recommend we take who we want and leave as soon as possible. Hundreds if not
thousands of inexplicable transfers occur every year in Star Fleet, let alone
other ship-based professions. I'm sure we've all seen it... the mysterious
promotion, the undeserved reassignment. It's a fact of life."

Tsandzia nods to T'lar and shrugs in hopeless abandon, "Oh well, not likely to
be my life on the line anyways." She stands to leave.

"One moment, Lieutenant." The voice is de la Sangre's. 'Okay, time for that
knife part, Drake was talking about.' He takes a deep breath. "I appreciate
your input. In the future, however, if you have cause to deem one of my
decisions as 'just plain stupid', let me know in private. I prefer not to be
insulted in front of my crew."

"I've already apologized for that!"

"That will be all, Lieutenant. Remain seated."

Tsandzia glares back angrily but slowly resumes her seat, realizing that Vince
is now her commanding officer, whether she likes it or not.

"As for you, Commander Hawkins..."

"Call me JJ."

Vince takes another breath, "As for you, _Commander Hawkins_, I think it would
be best if you attend to Lt. Morchainte's concerns as soon as possible and try
to minimize the disruption to your department aboard the Excalibur. Make up a
good technical excuse that your people will appreciate and understand. Make it
look like simply a case of standard operating procedure taken to a rare but
inevitable extreme."

"Aye sir."

"Now, Commander."

"Aye sir!" Hawkins exits stage left.

The room falls quiet, as everyone sees this side of de la Sangre which they
didn't know existed. Even the blobbies appear appreciative, several of them
piling up like a lectern in front of him. He pushes them over. "And will
somebody please take these vermin to the nearest airlock?"

"I'll get them back to sickbay," O'Neil offers, seizing the first excuse to
escape the conference room and its alternating clutter of anger, despair, and
oppression. "If nobody minds, that is. I have work to do, anyway." He leaves,
and without the wiggling green shapes on the tabletop, the room suddenly seems
even more depressing than before.

"No matter what Hawkins says," Tsandzia finally risks, "it won't be enough."

"It will have to be. Now, as for the rest of you..." Vince paces back and
forth, trying to figure out his next choice. He stops as his eyes meet with
Kristin's. "Lieutenant, am I right in assuming you still want to guard the
ambassador?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, we still have the position of security chief to fill. Think you can
handle it?"

"Sir?" Kris' eyes bulge out a bit. Nobody's ever offered her a department. Her
ancient past just about precluded it.

"It would give you more control, and you could arrange for Sarin's security as
you see most fit. Are you with me?"

"Yes sir." She jumps up from the table. "I'll need to pick up a couple things
on the Typhoon, so I'll talk to the Captain while I'm there. With your
permission, of course, sir."

Vince nods, "Make it quick. I want a security update by the time I arrive on
the Phobos."

"Aye sir," Kris makes a quick exit.

Vince then looks toward Oein. The Romulan, however, seems eager to avoid his
gaze, finally meeting it when it becomes obvious that his full attention is
required. "Though you rejected the offer to become Captain of the ship, I am
hoping you will accept the position of chief science officer. There is a high
probability we will have to fight the Romulans, and I want you along as a
consultant on the matter."

Oein shrugs, "I will serve wherever assigned."

"This mission is a volunteer one. You don't have to accept."

"I must warn you that my knowledge of the Romulan Star Navy is many years
obsolete."

"Nonetheless, you're the best we've got. Do you accept?"

"I would appreciate some time to think this matter over. There is much work
for me to do aboard the Excalibur."

"I need an answer now."

Oein blinks, then frowns. "You are asking me to weigh what may become the
scientific breakthrough of the century against the life of my Kohaeiamus."

"Kohaeiamus?"

"Most respected person," Nien echoes from across the table. "Ambassador Sarin
and Cmdr. tr'Remas go back a ways."

Vince's eyes narrow, "I see. Then all the more reason for you to accept my
offer."

T'lar raises an eyebrow, "Logic dictates that one vulcan's life is not worth
the scientific breakthroughs he could make here, studying the Borg equipment."

"Precisely."

Nien folds her hands together, "Think about this, Oein. Think about how many
lives might be saved by the success of Sarin's mission."

"That is precisely why I wish some time... to talk with Sarin."

"What exactly has he told you, T'lar?" comes an Andorian voice from the back
of the room. Duran fixes his eyes on the Vulcan.

"If I were Sarin, I would doubtless invoke my authority, wave my arms and
intone words indicating that I were not at liberty to inform you of the purpose
of my mission. However, since I'm not privy to the information, I'll simply
tell you that... I don't know."

Gunner snorts in frustration, "This is too much." He gets up from the table.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"My best friend just got killed guarding your precious Sarin! I think that
entitles me to ask a few questions!"

"_My_ precious Sarin?!" T'lar looks as mortally offended as a Vulcan can look.

Gunner just scowls and stares at the ceiling, beginning to mimic the
Ambassador's deeply resonant voice: "Do you think, T'lar, that you are no
longer capable of sharing that part of yourself you used to offer to me so
freely? If so, I see no purpose to this pathetic existence."

She tries not to let her jaw drop too far below her knees, "How? But... Why,
you little! You had a hidden recorder in there!"

"I'm the security chief, T'lar. It's my job to have hidden recorders. I just
didn't have a chance to get to it until a few minutes ago. Now, if you don't
mind, I'm going to go bug your boyfriend, and he _will_ answer _my_ questions."

Vince, though momentarily stunned by the direction the conversation, steps up
to the security chief and grabs him by the upper arm. "Now YOU listen to ME,
lieutenant. You may _be_ security chief on the Excalibur, but the Phobos is way
out of your jurisdiction. The Phobos is under my command and so are it's crew.
If you mess with one of them," Vince says nodding toward T'lar, "you mess with
ME, and I can promise you I don't roll over easily." Regaining his calm, he
releases Gunner's arm again, takes a couple of breaths, and feels the blood
throb through his veins. "I forbid you to plant any bugs or such, conduct any
type of bugging, or even _board_ the Phobos without MY explicit permission. Is
that UNDERSTOOD, Lieutenant?"

Gunner scowls, looking toward LeBonk for some form of support.

"Lt. Commander de la Sangre is correct. The Phobos is outside your
jurisdiction. And, for your sake, I hope you meant that you wanted to 'bother'
Sarin... not 'bug' him."

Gunner scowls again and leaves, not bothering to say "goodbye" much less
acknowledge his orders.

Vince looks back toward the Romulan. "Lt. Cmdr. tr'Remas, you may have an
interview with the ambassador aboard the Phobos if you wish and Sarin allows.
You will not be left alone with him, however. I want St. James and another
guard in there with you."

"A logical precaution," he gets up from the table and faces LeBonk. "Permission
to leave the ship, Captain."

"Granted."

"I will need an answer from you as soon as possible, so make the meeting a
short one." Vince lets himself slide into his seat, feeling old.

After Oein is gone, T'lar makes an audible sigh. "It seems, for the moment,
that the meeting is over. May I go to the ship that was, all too fleetingly, my
command and see that Gunner does not do too much damage?"

Vince buries his face in his hands. Making an enemy out of the Excalibur's
chief of security had never been his intention. Pulling an all-nighter had
never been his intention, either, but he did it, just the same. Sitting down,
he can suddenly feel the fatigue catching up with him.

"Sir?"

"Yes... yes, do so. Once there, I want you to give me a report of the condition
of your department. Indeed, tell the other officers on board that I will be
with them for a general inspection as soon as I talk to Ash, and the captain
here... and have a quick shower." He stifles a yawn, not wanting to appear as
anything less than the model Star Fleet Captain. "Tell them I want all crew
members on board the ship, or close by. Also, tell them that I like to make
surprise inspections at all hours of the day... or night. That should keep them
on their toes."

T'lar nods, "Aye sir," and makes for the exit.

Vincent sighs and stretches in his seat. "I think that will be all." He looks
to LeBonk waiting a confirmation. "Any objections? Anyone? Good, you may all go
about your business. I want all personnel assigned to the Phobos to go to their
posts and help with the preparations. I want this bird flight ready _now_."

The room starts to empty out as Duran walks up to Vincent. The Andorian clears
his throat, "Excuse me, Captains, Commander, if the formal meeting is over, I
request a word with you three." He waits until only Vincent, LeBonk, and Nien
are present.

"What do you have on your mind, Lieutenant?" LeBonk is the first to respond.

"This has been a most unsettling period for me lately, for many reasons.
However, this attack by Romulan operatives in Federation space on such a
notable personage is particularly disturbing."

Vince blinks once or twice, a headache starting to form in the lower recesses
of his cranium. "I hope there's a point to all this, Lieutenant."

Duran clears his throat again and shoots the newly designated Captain of the
Phobos a decidedly apprehensive look. "I would request that I be allowed to be
part of this... adventure."

Vince winces, 'Adventure? More like a bloody nightmare.' He decides that it's
his turn to clear his throat. "I will see if we have need for another security
officer, though I doubt it. I don't want to take any more people than are
absolutely necessary."

Duran nods, "Captain de la Sangre, given the knowledge currently at your
disposal, you might well have little reason to consider me for this voyage, but
there is some information to which Commander Elineva and Captain LeBonk are
privy, information that may well change your feelings." Duran hesitates for a
second. Then takes a deep breath. "My real name is Andron Tarkine Duran, and I
work for Star Fleet Intelligence Command. It is not standard operating
procedure to inform people of our real identities but, through a comedy of
errors, that information has leaked to a number of individuals. Given that, I
made the decision to inform certain select command personnel. I now have
decided that insuring my inclusion on this mission is worth including one
additional person, namely you."

Vince swallows hard. SFIC? Here? He looks toward Nien, then LeBonk, seeking
some form of confirmation. "Is this true?"

"'fraid so," Nien answers.

Vince finally lets out his breath. "Why are you here, then?"

"As Captain LeBonk can tell you, I'm not on a mission per se. I would, however,
be remiss in my duty if I didn't do my best to look after an Ambassador of the
Federation who has been attacked by operatives from a foreign power. Besides,
as an intelligence officer, I want... no, I need to know why they are after him
and what they hope to accomplish. Such intelligence could prove... of
significance."

"I bet it could." Vince relaxes into his chair, letting out a brief sigh. "You
know, the last thing I need is to get tangled up with the SFIC. Since this is
essentially a counter-espionage matter, why can't we just hand Sarin to your
people?"

"I'm a solo. I'm not in a position to call in reinforcements."

"And I assume that you cannot reveal to me the nature of your assignment."

"As I said, I am not on a mission."

"He's on _vacation_," LeBonk explains.

"Vacation?! On the Excalibur?"

Duran swallows hard and looks at each of the officers present, "I have said all
I can... all there is to say."

Vince chews his lower lip, 'This is getting better all the time. Why didn't I
just stay in bed this morning?' He finds himself suddenly struck by the
realization of how fast events have unfolded. "Well, you did catch one of those
chameleons, not to mention saving my life." He gulps, exchanging glances with
the other officers. "I guess I owe you a break. Unfortunately, I've already
assigned the security chief post. How would you like to be the First Officer?"

"First Officer? My cover identity has me down as a 2nd Lieutenant."

Vince nods, "Oh. That's right. That would look rather suspicious. What can you
do, then?"

"Virtually anything involving security."

"Meet me at the ship at 2000 hours, and I'll see what position I can give you."

"Er... at 2000 hours?"

"You have a previous commitment?"

"A poker game," Nien clarifies.

Vince blinks once or twice, looking from the Deltan to the Andorian and back
again. "A poker game?"

Duran shoots Nien a scolding glance, "Thank you, Commander. Your support in
these matters is appreciated." Returning his gaze to Vince, "Actually, the
Commander and I have a date. I was more concerned that we might be *tied-up*."
Duran pauses long enough to cast a devilish grin in the deltan's general
direction. "But I'm sure that Nien and I take care of everything we had planned
to do by that time. As for the infamous poker game, it can wait or be canceled.
Most of the invitees are Phobos crewmembers anyway: T'lar, Tsandzia, and a few
others. Perhaps this isn't the best time to be playing cards."

Vince looks from Nien to Duran and back again. 'A date?' He remembers having to
kick a door down to save her from that lecherous Ferengi pirate, Damon Zar. But
better to have left her with a Ferengi than with some Andorian SFIC agent who
probably specializes in sadomasochistic interrogation techniques.

"Ehhh... Right. On second thought, I think you will be needed aboard the Phobos
right now! You are assigned to the security department for now. Report to Lt.
St. James... immediately!" Vince smiles to himself 'and you'll stay there till
we leave. There will be no dating of Nien if it isn't done by me!' "Right, that
will be all Mr. Khemsa. And inform the others that the poker game is off."

Duran grits his teeth, "Indeed? That is unfortunate. However, I will need to
collect my personal effects before reporting to the Phobos. What exactly is the
crisis that requires my immediate attention, Captain?"

Vince grins. "You do not have clearance for that information. I am sorry, but I
can say no more. St. James will give you further details." Vince beams at
Duran. "Any objections good you're excused," he rattles off.

After they're outside the conference room, Nien regards her andorian admirer
with a slightly worried expression. "Looks like you've got yourself a tyrant."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he doesn't want us going to dinner."

"He doesn't."

Duran stops and regards her with an even stare. "You know that guy from
somewhere?"

"We sort of saved each others lives. Other than that," she slowly shakes her
head.

"What??"

"It was about five years ago... Alpha Cygnus VI. It was really sort of silly.
We got caught with our pants down."

Duran gawks.

"Not literally. We'd gotten captured by some Ferengi slavers. It was a... an
unpleasant experience." She steps toward a turbolift as its doors swish open,
emitting a stream of crewmembers. As they enter and the doors close, isolating
them from the rest of the starship, Duran can see a distant look of fear
somewhere in the glimmering brown tapestry of her eyes.

"You okay?"

She looks up, the memory broken into distant shades. "Uh-huh. I was just..."
she pauses, trying to think of the right thing to say.

"Do you still want to have dinner? We can eat in my room while I get my stuff
together?"

"What about reporting to St. James?"

"I said I would be over after I got my stuff. You know as well as I that there
is no crisis, certainly no classified crisis. That was a lame excuse, and trust
me, I know about making excuses! So what do you say?"

She grins, "I've got a better idea."

"What's that?"

"I'll go to the 'querque and nab us some take-out. Something non-synthesized
for a change. I shouldn't have too much trouble finding you aboard the Phobos."

The doors swish open, and Duran puts his hand over the obstruction sensor to
hold the lift.

"Great!" He grins, "I'll see you on the Phobos then. Er... I don't know where
my quarters will be, so you'll have to call me when you arrive or something."

"I'll just ask where the big blue guy is."

Duran steps out with a smile, "You do that."


                      _   /|        Jim Vassilakos
                      \`o_O'        [e-mail]
                        ( )         [e-mail]
                         U          Riverside, California

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