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Star Trek: Play by E-Mail
The Forbidden Years
Campaign Write-up
===============================================================================
Adventure #2
A Matter of Policy
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Turn #38
Busted
===============================================================================
Copyright 1994 Jim Vassilakos / All Rights Reserved
*******************************************************************************
Cast & Crew
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
ST-PBeM GameMaster Jim Vassilakos jimv@cs.ucr.edu
Lt. T'lar Ronnie Simonds nicholas@wam.umd.edu
Lt. Morchainte Brian Chrisman incubus@netcom.com
Lt. Cmdr. Duran Tony Hayes hayes@ll.mit.edu
Lt. St. James John Brengman ccjbreng@antelope.wcc.edu
Lt. Cmdr. de la Sangre Carlos Jensen carlosj@ifi.uio.no
Lt. Cmdr. Hawkins Tony Hayes hayes@ll.mit.edu
2nd Lt. Xelha Dave Shue shue@ll.mit.edu
Lt. Cmdr. tr'Remas Dave Shue shue@ll.mit.edu
Dr. Bannister Jason Stripinis m955988@charleston.nadn.navy.mil
Lt. K'tar Steve Mays ranger@cs.ucr.edu
Stardate 6003.28 at 1515 Hours: USS Phobos, Shuttle Bay
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hawkins crawls out from under the shuttle wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"All this work, just for the sake of a shootin' star."
"Getting tired, Chief?"
"Hell no." Hawkins scowls at Tyrone.
"Just a simple question."
Hawkins walks over to the comm panel, hitting it with his fist. He'd much
rather be looking at the cloak right now, but instead he has to turn their next
to only shuttle into a ball of fire for half an hour. Oh joy. "Hawkins to main
engineerin'."
"Woods here."
"Is K'tar making any progress with the cloakin' device?"
"I don't know."
"Well, ask 'im."
"I can't. He left for the bridge."
"He did what? Why?"
"I don't know."
Hawkins fumes, "Alright, thanks," hitting the panel again. Normally long-fused,
fatigue is taking its toll. "Hawkins to K'tar. Hawk to K'tar... is anybody up
there?"
"Sorry, Chief," the voice sounds like Kristin's. We're a bit short of personnel
up here. "You want me to beep K'tar for you?"
"Yeah." Hawkins wonders where Trozena went to. He'd normally be the person to
take care of those minor but necessary details.
Suddenly there's a burst of static. "K'tar here."
"K'tar! What's goin' on? Where are ya?"
The Klingon seems to let out a tired sigh, "I've been ordered to escort three
officers to their quarters."
"What?! Who?"
"Lieutenants Morchainte and T'lar... and Ensign Trozena. It appears that they
were eavesdropping... on the Captain, no less."
"What?! How?"
"I'll explain later. But suffice it to say, escorting them to their quarters is
not a task which I relish."
Hawkins shrugs, "Well, I should think they deserve some form of punishment."
"Precisely. Which is why I'd rather be escorting them to the airlock. And then
opening the other side." K'tar grins at the image of the three disgraced
officers popping open like balloons from explosive decompression.
"K'tar, that's gross."
"Yes." K'tar grins some more, glancing toward his captives. Tsandzia merely
looks around as they walk, peeking in every air vent she can find and cooing in
a soft, high-pitched voice, "Blobby... Blobby...."
Stardate 6003.28 at 1515 Hours: USS Phobos, Bridge
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kris, still at her security station at the back of the bridge, dumps her copy
of Trozena's recording to an isochip of her own. Then she steps over to the
communication's console and patches a line to Soroc's quarters.
"Anybody home?"
"I've been expecting you to call," Soroc says, once he gets to his comm unit.
"I take it you've read my correspondence?"
"Yes," Kris sighs. "I suppose I should congratulate you on gaining control of
the computer. It may actually prove useful in an emergency."
"My thoughts precisely," Soroc states, breathing an inward sigh of relief.
"Of course, I expect that you may get caught rather soon."
"Come again?"
"I'm having Ensign Arloch run a security sweep of the computer. No doubt, he'll
find your break-in."
"Perhaps. It should be amusing nonetheless."
"And necessary. We haven't had such a sweep since the Phobos left port."
"Perhaps... Arloch could use some help."
"Feel free to volunteer. You'll be looking for ANY anomalous use of logins and
passcodes and any hidden files that are not a part of the computer's operating
system."
"Believe me... I _know_ what to look for," Soroc tries hard not to sound
annoyed. "Anything else?"
"Yes, in your security sweep of the computer, do your best to dig up any
information on Lt. Khemsa, aka Agent Duran."
"Agent who?"
"Khemsa is working with SFIC, in what capacity I'm not _entirely_ certain. But
I want to know more about who he is. See what you can do to retrieve any files
he has opened. Download a copy of your work to my directory for examination."
"Of course."
"Oh... and there's one more thing," Kris lowers her voice as Yoshio walks in to
take over the helm post. He looks confused at the sight of an empty bridge.
"What's going on? Where is everyone?"
"It's a long story. Just assume your post for now, Ensign."
He nods and steps over to the helm controls, "Aye sir."
"As you were saying?" Soroc sounds ready to cut the line.
"I have something I want you to listen to. It is extremely important that you
hear it as soon as possible."
"What is it?"
She looks down at the chip, lowering her voice even further, "Just meet me at
my quarters in five minutes. And be alone."
Stardate 6003.28 at 1525 Hours: USS Phobos, Kristin's Quarters
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Kris nears her quarters, she finds Soroc waiting for her, a wary look on the
vulcan's face. She smiles and keys open the door. "Hope I didn't keep you
waiting." She locks the door after he enters.
"Is that really necessary?"
"I don't want some blue guy charging in uninvited," she withdraws the isochip
from her tunic pocket and inserts it into the terminal, "...particularly when
I'm so damn busy."
Suddenly the Tricani's gravelly voice resonates from the wall speaker.
Prisoner: "...me see now. I'm trying to remember. Wait... wait now. I think
it's coming.... Hey, wait a second. I just thought of something. Don't I... you
know... get an attorney or something?"
Duran: "No, but you are entitled to a medic."
(loud smacking noise, followed shortly by swishing noise, probably a door
opening)
Duran: "Quick! Go get a medic! This guy fell and hit his face on the table!
Quick, call Bannister or someone!"
(swishing noise again)
Duran: "You should be more careful, you could've seriously hurt yourself!"
Prisoner: "You stinking Andorian filth!"
Duran: "Oh, I see you want more, eh?"
Prisoner: "I don't talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough
whopper!"
Soroc blinks, pausing the play-back. "What?"
"Some sort of insult," Kris surmises. "Sounds like Duran was smacking him
around a bit." She resumes play.
Duran: "Oh, but you will talk to me. You'll tell me everything I want to know,
quickly, clearly, precisely, and as many times as I want you to."
Prisoner: "Hah! I excrete offensive smelling gaseous matter in your general
direction!"
(smacking noise again, but this time louder)
Duran: "Look my friend, if I don't start getting some cooperation from you,
they'll send Kris in to do the interrogation, and she's not nearly as nice and
forgiving as I am."
"For once we agree," Kris says to nobody in particular.
Prisoner: "You know what you are?!"
Duran: "Why don't you tell me? This should be amusing."
Prisoner: "Your mother was a Horta, and your father smelt of locarbeans!"
Kris can't manage to suppress a giggle.
Duran: "Is that a fact?"
"Yes, it is!" she shouts.
Prisoner: "Don't do it, Agent Duran."
"What?!!"
Kris rewinds a few seconds, scarcely able to believe her ears.
Prisoner: "Don't do it, Agent Duran."
She hits pause, regarding Soroc with a confused expression. "Did I miss
something?"
Soroc simply leans forward and hits the play.
Duran: "Oma eh taliss Andorvia! Who are you and how do you know... my name?"
Prisoner (chuckling): "I told your security chief that I was Admiral P'notto of
the Tricani Star League, as my ship's log will no doubt confirm. That, of
course, was a lie."
Duran: "Go on."
Suddenly there's a beeping noise, and Kris hits the pause again, getting up to
answer the door. Ekstrom and Sorrows are there, and neither of them looks
particularly happy.
"Uh... hi sir." He peeks over her shoulder to see Soroc sitting by the
terminal. "I hope we weren't interrupting anything..."
"I thought you were supposed to be guarding the brig."
"Got a call from Khemsa," Sorrows says the name with a certain level of
distaste.
"And?"
"You're to come with us," Ekstrom looks impatient. "Sorry, chief."
"On who's authority?"
"The Captain's. Believe me... we wouldn't be here otherwise."
Suddenly, Pesty takes the opportunity of an open door to attempt a daring if
unsuccessful escape.
"Meowerrr..."
Kris picks him up, nuzzling the cat behind the ear.
"Sorry about that. I'll take care of him, and I'll be out in a sec."
Ekstrom puts his foot in the doorway out of reflex. It's a standard thing the
guards are trained to do. Don't lose sight of your charge once the "arrest" is
made.
"Do you mind, guys? I be out in a sec."
They look at each other, then let the door slide shut.
Kris turns around and approaches Soroc, nuzzling Pesty some more, and murmuring
"You little lifesaver, you." She gives him to Soroc, who looks at the feline
with a grimace of disdain. Kris then kneels and whispers, "Go through the rest
of this, file your report on it to my directory, then take the chip with you
and destroy it."
"Destroy it? It's evidence."
"Just do as I say."
He puts the cat on the floor, getting up to object, but in another moment, Kris
is out the door, leaving Soroc with the chip, the cat, and orders he'd rather
not have heard.
Stardate 6003.28 at 1530 Hours: USS Phobos, Bridge
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oein enters the bridge, Vince and Duran close on his heals.
"The computer logs should show exactly who did what." He leans over the
security console, checking through the comm logs. "Yes... see here. Trozena
opened a channel first to the security conference room and later to a comm port
on deck 4, and then to your quarters, Captain."
"Humph! A real spy, that Trozena."
"A real amateur," Duran states. "Didn't even bother to erase his trail. What
about that chip?"
"According to these records, he was indeed recording to it... until somebody
at this station issued a command erasing the contents and ceasing the
recording. It's impossible to know with certainty which of them did it,
however."
Duran breathes a sigh of relief, if only for a moment. "What about other
copies?"
"Yes," Vince nods, "it would be preferable to have some hard evidence of what
they actually recorded."
Oein runs a scan of the system, looking for any big sound files postmarked
within the last hour. "Here, let me help," Vince types in the root password. A
few moments later, they find what they're looking for. And the owner of the
file is one Lt. Kristin St. James.
"Oh... perfect." Duran scowls. "She was there too?!"
Oein nods, "I neglected to detain her at the time since I logically thought
that she would not be party to such an action. Do you want me to confine her
to quarters as well?"
"No. Bring her to my ready room instead."
"And the others?"
"Bring them along too, as well as anyone else who might have had anything to
do with this. It's time for me to do the judge and jury bit. I'll need a heat
lamp and a cuban cigar."
Oein blinks, "Uh... aye sir."
Vince starts to leave, then he turns around again. "And have somebody sweep the
room for bugs. And then sweep it again, just in case. And while you're at it,
sweep yourself. You never can be too sure these days." He nods knowingly, like
he actually knows what he's talking about. Then he wanders off, humming to
himself: "Hi-ho, Hi-ho, off to hang we go..."
Stardate 6003.28 at 1540 Hours: USS Phobos, Captain's Ready Room
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The lights are dim, the air hot and sordid with the lingering smoke of Vince's
cuban cigar. It hangs from his lip like a big brown turd, quivering
whenever he tries to breath. Finally he snuffs it on the table, coughing and
rubbing his eyes. "God, I really hate those things," he mutters. "Okay, now
where were we? Oh, right." He studies the officers before him. "There are some
serious charges that have been presented against you."
"I didn't do it," Tsandzia blurts, "and nobody saw me... and even if they did,
you can't prove it."
Vince look at her for a long moment, chewing on the end of his now extinguished
cigar. He finally throws it in the waste basket, wiping his tongue on his
sleeve. "Ahem... well stated, Tsandzia."
"Can I go now?"
"No."
She pouts, looking about nervously as Vince continues to leaf through their
respective records, until it becomes vaguely obvious that she's searching for
Blobby in the corners of the room. She starts quietly humming, "Blobby...
where are yooooou..." but subsides when the door swooshes open, revealing Kris
with Duran.
"It took you long enough," Vince scowls.
She looks around the room. Vince is there behind his big desk, Oein at his
side, and Tsandzia, T'lar, and Trozena are grouped in front of the desk like a
minor herd fit for slaughter. There is, of course, one seat empty. Duran
motions her toward it.
Kris sighs and plops down next to T'lar, not saying a word.
"You all understand," Vince begins, "that I could have you court-martialed for
this, and that since we are on this ship, I am the highest authority until we
reach port. It is within my power to take the steps I deem necessary to ensure
that you are no further threat to the ship, its crew, or the mission. You know
the charges. Have you anything to say in your defense?"
"Defense?" Tsandzia snaps to for about all of a nanosecond. "I don't know if we
have the right picture here. I'm not responsible for proving my innocence of
anything."
"Excuse me, sir," Kris begins. "I don't know the charges. I didn't even know
there were charges."
"You're being charged with... er... with eavesdropping." Vince waves his hands
a bit to clear the smoke.
"Article 16, section 2, subsection 9, paragraph 8." Oein recites from a PADD.
"Members of Fleet shall not engage in such behavior..."
"...which violates the basic rights of privacy of fellow crewmembers," T'lar
finishes for him. "As are proscribed in the aforementioned section except with
regards to the policies contained in section 4.14, which itself is a bundle of
cross-references. Would you like me to recite them?"
Oein looks up, only slightly flustered. "You memorized Star Fleet regulations?"
"Of course. There are so few." She shoots him her patented deadpan stare.
"Are there any regulations about finding lost blobbies?" Tsandzia queries,
taking the opportunity to check her other shoulder, the one opposite where
Blobby is usually perched. He's not there, however, and she lets go an audible
moan.
Vince finally gets fed-up. "If you're looking for that little pest of yours,
you might as well know... it's dead!"
Duran winces.
"What!!!!?!?!" Tsandzia nearly falls from her seat. "What are you talking
about??? Where is he?!?"
"Nowhere! Everywhere! Pest heaven! Who cares?!"
"Huh?"
"Your pet was found in the brig, Tsandzia... on his way to the force-fields no
doubt."
Tsandzia's eyes bulge out, "He made more babies?! Oh my God, I'll be right
back. I have to go find Blobby, er... I mean Blobbies... immediately!"
"You don't understand. He didn't make it. He got..." Vince glaces toward Duran,
"...he got caught in the powerflow and was vaporized."
"Vaporized??!!! The force fields fried my Blobby?!"
"Would I lie?" Vince stares at her solemnly.
Tsandzia harrumphs, "Well, I'm sure you _didn't_ know this, but my blobby ate
the Excalibur force fields for lunch! Are you telling me this old bucket of
bolts has better brig shields than the Excalibur?"
"It's my ship. It better have."
Tsandzia frowns, as if that isn't very much of an explanation. "If you'll
excuse me, I'm going to go observe the power fluctuation on those fields."
"What!?"
"The blobbies are near extinction, as far as we know. We must determine exactly
what caused this... vaporization, if we are to learn to protect Blobbies
elsewhere."
T'lar nods, "Regulation 1.1.3.7 covers the protection of endangered species. If
it would help, I can quote..."
"No thanks." Vince looks somewhat annoyed. 'Why can't I just have a normal
crew like everybody else?' he wonders. "All that 'blobby stuff' will have to
wait. We're in the middle of an inquisition... er... a meeting... a meeting
which may well decide your collective fates!"
Tsandzia moans, "At least let me go to the brig to offer last rites to Blobby,
being that that's where he died."
Vince grits his teeth, "You want to get to the brig real bad, don't you
Lieutenant? Well that can be arranged!"
"Oh goody!" Tsandzia gets up to leave the room, entirely oblivious as to the
underlying implications of the Captain's last statement.
"Whoa, Tsandzia! Just where do you think you're going?"
"The brig," she stares at him as if he must be a retard.
"No need. We can hold the eulogy right here."
"Here???"
Vince nods, the stub of an idea itching at his skull. "In Blobby's memory, I
have composed a eulogy... which I would like to recite."
Tsandzia sits down in a state of infinite rapture.
"Oh... dear Blobby," Vince begins, "How little we knew ye," he lights up
another cigar. "Your life was short... but so very worthwhile." Vince takes a
puff, begins coughing again, and promptly conjures a loogey which he spits on
the table next to the Calainian Princess. "Wait! Look!! I spoke too soon!
Blobby's alive!"
Tsandzia, of course, is jumping for joy... for all of about five seconds, that
is. "Hey, this isn't my Blobby! He's too small. And what was he doing in your
mouth?"
"You know, Tsandzia, that's an excellent question. Perhaps if you put it on
your shoulder and wait long enough, it'll grow into a whole new Blobby."
Tsandzia looks at him with a touch of skepticism.
"Of course, by that time you may be rotting in jail."
"Jail?!"
"In addition to the charges the others face, you're charged with having
indiscriminately given privileged information to the rest of the crew, to have
placed the life of a Federation Ambassador in danger, and with endangering our
mission. Any famous last words?"
"Huh?"
Vince sighs, "On second thought, maybe we should just hang whoever let you into
Star Fleet in the first place." Vince shifts his attention to Kris. "Lt. St.
James, you are the Chief of Security. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I wasn't spying on you, sir. I was gathering info on our friendly SFIC
operative. Since he has been acting outside the chain of command aboard this
ship, I felt steps had to be taken to find out as much about him as possible. I
would've then reported my findings to you. In the meantime, I have discovered
some information that I wish to go over with you, with a limited number of
other people listening. This information should only be heard by the Captain,
the First Officer, Mr. Trozena, and T'Lar."
Duran, who is looking amused by the whole ordeal speaks up, "Captain, if the
information to which Lt. St. James is referring was gotten during the wiretap
on the interrogations of the alien captain, you may indeed want to carefully
restrict who is in that meeting. Further, that information will be provided to
you in full during my briefing with you and Commander tr'Remas. Since it is of
a sensitive nature, I thought it wise to have you decide who should have access
to that data. It's a relatively interesting piece of information, but not
incredibly illuminating in the grand scheme of things."
"Interesting... sensitive... but not illuminating? Explain."
Duran sighs, "It might be easier if you simply reviewed the contents of the
wiretap file yourself, sir. If it would help you to decide, I'll be happy to
provide you with that data immediately."
"Won't be necessary," Vince takes the isochip out of his pocket. "Oein already
provided me with a copy."
"Very well," Duran sneaks a victory-smile toward Kris. "I just didn't want
sensitive data to be spread about carelessly without you fully understanding
what you'd be agreeing to." He looks at Kris. "So you see, Kristin... there is
nothing you can provide to the Captain that I have not already agreed to
provide."
"Since you don't know a damn thing about what information I am going to
divulge, I would suggest that you kindly shut-up and get lost."
"Kris, get a clue. I know exactly what's on that chip. Exactly."
"What is it with you? Do you have trouble hearing through those antennae of
yours, or do you simply not understand Federation Standard?" Kris pauses for a
moment to regain her composure. "Captain, I have obtained information that I
deem for the ears of those I have specified... namely you, Oein, Trozena, and
T'lar. I respectfully request that you excuse Mr. Khemsa and Tsandzia so that I
can relay this information."
Duran continues to smile, "That's Lt. Commander Duran to you, Mr. St. James."
"Captain," Oein finally blurts out, "may we please get on with the purpose of
this meeting?"
"You're right. I'm getting tired of the both of you." Vince stares at Kris and
Duran. "Either you both shut up, or I'll throw you in the brig for
insubordination. I might even consider putting you both in the same cell."
Duran straightens up and wipes the smirk from his face, "Ah... sorry, Sir.
Force of habit."
Vince sighs, "Now St. James, do you have any information more than that which
I'll find on the chip once I go through it?"
"I believe I might."
"Fine, then I will hear you privately. I do not know the nature of your
information, but since it is probably classified, I want only myself and Oein
to be present. I trust that is okay with you?"
"Yes sir."
"Okay, Khemsa. Keep an eye on the rest of them. They are not to leave the
room."
"Aye sir."
A moment later, they're on the bridge. Higashi turns about, and K'tar is there
as well.
"Sir, I've been meaning to speak with you about the cloaking device."
"Later, K'tar. I'm in the middle of something here."
"Sir. I believe the device was misaligned intentionally."
"Intentionally?!" Vince's eyes bulge out. "What makes you think so?"
"Because, sir, there are circuits attached to the device which enable a
'flickering' of the power flow. Normally, such a flickering allows the ship to
disguise itself as a 'ghost-image' if the ship is somehow pinged on scans.
However, the device has its own separate logs which clearly show that it was
flickering for some time before we even spotted it."
"They wanted us to see a ghost-image?"
"They wanted us to notice them, Captain. I am certain of it."
"Intriguing," Oein notes.
Kris sighs, "This ties directly into what I have to tell you, Captain."
"That will be all, K'tar. Thank you for the report. Higashi, give us a few
minutes, will ya?" After they're gone, "Go ahead."
"First of all, sir, I'd like to formally apologize for my actions in this
incident. Once I found out that Mr. Trozena was recording Duran, I had to
balance the value of the information which he might have recovered versus
his sudden status as a peeper. Instead of simply arresting him on the spot, I
decided that the information he might gain for us was worth a few moments of
hesitation."
"Well, it makes little difference really. You acted incorrectly. You should
have arrested them there and then, as Oein did."
Kris nods, "I know, sir. However, I also do not believe that Trozena actually
meant to record YOU, sir."
"That's not the point. It's a criminal offense, and the conversation was
confidential. I am forced to take action."
"But sir..."
"Get to the point, Kris."
She takes a deep breath, "I had an opportunity to examine the recording I made.
It has since been destroyed. However, at the beginning of the tape, the alien
commander at first was acting like your normal prisoner under interrogation.
Then there were sounds of a struggle, and I am assuming that Duran was doing
the majority of the punishment, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that
when Duran threatened to punish the alien some more, he replied with something
along the lines of 'You'd better not do that, Agent Duran.'" She pauses here to
let it sink in.
"He knew the name?"
"Now, why did an alien prisoner who has never met Duran before, as far as we
know, why did he call Duran 'Agent Duran'? It is my belief that we may have
another SFIC agent aboard who was posing as an alien and even worse, an SFIC
agent tailing us while we are supposed to be on a somewhat secret mission.
There may be a connection between this guy and Duran. That's why I didn't want
to say anything in front of him."
"I see," Vince strokes his beard. "That would also explain why he wanted to get
captured... at least according to K'tar."
"Sir, the most direct course of action would be for me to interrogate the
'alien' and extract what information I can from him on what SFIC's intentions
are. I don't think it's a coincidence that we have an SFIC agent aboard this
ship who has proven himself a security risk to our passenger, and then the
captain of our mysterious cloaked pursuer..."
"Hold on, Kris. 'Proven security risk'?"
"Sir, I found Duran together with Sarin."
"Hardly a venal sin."
"Sarin was holding a phaser which had been set on overload, and from the
expression on his face, it looked like he'd just been handed a hot potato. A
*very* hot potato."
"Yes, Ekstrom had already told me this. A rather interesting interrogation
technique, don't you think?"
Kris sighs, "Sir. Our orders were to protect the Ambassador. Duran has put
those orders below his orders... whatever those entail. And I want to know
why."
"So do I. And I intend to find out. But violating regulations is not the way to
do it."
"Sir, there is something else I have to confess. The reason I was selected to
guard the Ambassador in the first place is because... well... let's just say he
helped me out of a very bad situation a while back."
"You owe him a favor."
"Sir, I owe him my life. That's why I had to get any and all information on
Duran, even if it meant letting Trozena continue to make that recording. It
made no difference whether I stopped him while he was recording or
afterwards... and by waiting, I was able to gain more data on Duran. In any
case, about the alien... I need time with him alone. No, now that I think about
it, Lt. Soroc should be there also. But we can't be disturbed by anyone else,
especially not Duran."
Vince sighs, "Well, in light of the current situation, I am unable to grant
your request until I've had time to look into the matter. Besides, your ability
as chief of security has been put under doubt due to the charges."
"I know sir, and as I said... I apologize. But when you owe someone your
life..." she lets it trail off. "In any case, whatever you decide with respect
to the rest of my career in Star Fleet, please consider keeping Duran and the
alien captain separated."
"I'll consider everything, Kris. Now, if you don't mind, may we join the
others?"
They re-enter the ready room after calling Higashi back onto the bridge. All is
in relative quiet, Tsandzia sniffling about her late Blobby and so forth.
"Maybe we could hold a wake."
Vince groans, "Please. Not more on that topic." He looks around the room.
"Okay. Before deciding what I'm going to do about you three... er... four, I
want a straight answer. Who initiated the tap?"
"I did sir," Trozena replies calmly.
"Then explain something to me, will you? What in heaven's name possessed you to
do such a stupid thing in the first place?"
Trozena looks wholly ignorant for a moment, then responds, "I'd heard that all
the Tricani were dead, sir. And this one being an admiral..."
"Personal voyeurism, eh?"
He looks ashamed, "I have no excuses, sir. I just wanted to know what happened
to his people. When Duran... er, I mean Khemsa... started hitting him..."
"That'll be all, Ensign." Vince takes a deep breath, having already made up his
mind in the matter. "As you have nothing to say in your defense, there is
nothing left for me but to decide your sentence."
"Sir?"
"Provisionally, of course. You will have a chance to present your cases anew
with proper council once we reach our destination, where you will all face
court-martial for your actions."
Trozena gulps, "But sir, the others had nothing to do with it. I acted alone."
"Not the way I see it, Ensign. And if you interrupt me again..."
But Trozena does interrupt again, before the Captain can complete his threat.
"Please sir, before you cast judgement... just listen to the chip. This isn't
just about a few careers. The Ambassador's life is at stake. And that Tricani
Admiral... he's not an Admiral at all!"
"Ensign!" Duran yells.
"He's SFIC, just like him!" Trozena points at Duran. "And that's not all, sir!"
Duran grips his hands into fists, but cannot bring himself to strike the young
man in front of so many officers.
"He said his mission was to kill Sarin!"
Tsandzia scowls, "My God... that all fits in." she stares at Duran
incredulously.
Duran, meanwhile, shakes his head and forces himself to laugh out loud,
"Ensign, if you are going to violate even more regulations by indiscriminately
disseminating classified data to uncleared personnel, you could at least do it
accurately. I am assuming the mistake was an honest one. That is, I hope you
aren't intentionally trying to mislead the Captain as a means of justifying
your actions."
Trozena stares in wide-eyed confusion, "What?!"
"Regardless of the outcome, good or ill, your actions were criminal." Without
missing a beat, Duran looks at Vince and continues, "At no point did the
Tricani say that his mission was to kill Sarin. Listen to the recording for
yourself. Further, under Star Fleet Regulations, Article 53, Section 14, any
Star Fleet Vessel is required to provide safe transport to the nearest Star
Fleet facility, as is convenient to their mission, for any SFIC officer who
requests it. That SFIC officer shall be treated in accordance with his rank,
and his safety will be guaranteed by the Captain of that vessel."
Vince turns to the Ensign. "Is it true what you tell me about his mission? Was
it on the recording?"
Trozena nods, "Sir, I wouldn't make something like that up. It's on the chip.
Just take a few minutes..."
"Captain," Duran shakes his head, "This is obviously just an attempt on the
part of these so-called 'officers' to use lies, half-truths, and scare-tactics
to attempt re-direct you from the fact that they've committed a crime. I hope
you will restrict the remainder of this meeting to the charges at hand, not
some fable that this _Ensign_ is concocting."
"Sir, I know what I heard."
"Then either your ears are _shot_, you didn't _listen_ right, or you're lying
through your _crooked_ teeth. Regardless of what you _think_ you heard," Duran
turns back toward the Captain, "the contents of that recording have no bearing
on the charges since none of you knew ahead of time the nature of the
information you would obtain."
"I wouldn't have made a recording at all, if I hadn't heard you beating up your
prisoner!" Trozena lets loose with a shout. He then stops short and looks
apologetically to the Captain.
But Duran isn't done yet. "Then why didn't you contact the Captain to get
authorization? Why didn't you contact _any_ superior officer? You were on the
bridge for Christ's Sake! Oein was right there! Face it, Ensign, you don't have
a case! You don't have a prayer! You are a disgrace to the uniform and this
service, and you'd better hope darn hard that Star Fleet locks you away for a
real long time, because jail is the _only_ place you'll be safe!"
Trozena bites his lip and looks straight ahead, refusing to respond.
But Duran keeps going, now that he's on a roll. "My God! How could any of you
people have made it through the Academy? What ever happened to honor,
integrity, and patriotism?"
"Honor?!" Trozena can't contain himself. "Were you thinking about honor when
you were beating up your prisoner?!"
"You listen to me you little worm. Until you've worked, lived, and breathed
Security, don't you go telling..."
The Captain pounds a fist on the table. "That's enough! I want no more
outbreaks... not from anyone!"
Duran shakes his head, "Then I guess I'd better leave, because I will not stand
here and be lectured by a _communications_ officer, particularly one who's
pulling every last straw in a _vain_ effort to save his own skin." Duran turns
to leave, then stops short, "With your permission, Sir, I will go speak to
Sarin in preparation for our meeting. I assume you have made the needed changes
so that I might enter?"
"No, I haven't. And as for Sarin... I'd rather speak to him myself."
"Sir..." Duran begins to protest.
"Save your breath, Duran." Vince gets to his feet, glancing toward Kris. "I
have a feeling you're going to need it... at least until I get back."
Oein gets up, "Sir. Permission to... tag along."
"Granted."
"What about me???" Tsandzia starts to get up.
"Tsandzia... I'm entrusting you with a very important mission. Stay here, and
do nothing."
"But what about Blobby?"
Vince makes an evil grin, "If you look real careful, you might be able to find
some piece of Blobby still alive. After all, we hardly know anything about his
metabolism. Why, he might even be in this very room." Vince looks at the loogey
still resting on the table, then shoots Tsandzia an eerie glance. "Remember...
Blobby will be alive as long as you _believe_ in him."
"Really?"
Vince nods meaningfully, bursting out in giggles only after the door has closed
behind him. Oein regards him with a skeptical glare. "And Nien thought she was
fit to replace me as Science Chief aboard the Excalibur."
"Nien has a soft spot for blue weirdos."
Oein nods, "So it would seem." He hits a comm-unit, "Lt. K'tar, please report
to the bridge, immediately."
K'tar walks in a moment later, and Oein blinks in surprise.
"When I said immediately, I was only speaking figuratively."
"What are your orders?" the Klingon growls.
"There are several officers in the ready room. They'd been ordered to remain
there until we return."
"See that they do so," Vince advises.
K'tar crosses his arms, flexing his robust biceps, "Do I have permission to use
lethal force, sir?"
"No! Of course, not!"
K'tar sighs, "Pity."
"Uh... right." Vince walks off, Oein right behind him.
Once they are alone in the turbolift, Oein clears his throat. "Captain, if I
may speak frankly..."
"Sure, go ahead. Everybody else does."
"What I am about to say, I would prefer to be kept in confidence."
"Shoot."
Oein takes a deep breath. "Over forty-five years ago, I was forced to leave the
Romulan Star Empire. I was a Secundam aboard the RWB Helevorn, on my way up the
chain of command. Had I remained, I would probably now be the captain of the
Helevorn, and you and I would be bitter enemies."
"Will you please get to the point."
"It's about Sarin."
Vince makes a worried expression, "What about him?"
"He saved my life and convinced me to develop my scientific skills within the
Federation, since returning to the Star Empire would have meant certain death.
I'm telling you this so that you'll know that without Sarin's intervention in
my life, I would not be here right now. Protecting him is more than just an
order from Star Fleet. I will protect him with my own life, if necessary."
"You know something, Oein. For a guy who was nearly assassinated the other day,
Sarin seems to have more friends than I can shake a phaser at."
They come to Sarin's door, and Vince keys in his access code.
_ /| Jim Vassilakos
\`o_O' jimv@cs.ucr.edu
( ) jimv@wizards.com
U Riverside, California
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