Roble nods and says, "Very well. I'll have a word with the Arboretum officer, ma'am. The Captain may have an opinion on the subject, too - in fact, I'd be very surprised if she didn't."
Cheverez says, "We should able to begin beaming up people immediately, I'd say, Mr. Onn. We won't be 100% ready for them, not just yet, but we'll be ready enough, and time is of course of the essence." The others concur.
Graham takes his station at Security and draws a deep breath. Maybe I'm over-thinking this, but when we're down to life-or-death I don't see a lottery turning out well. How the hell are people--how are parents--supposed to stomach their kids dying because of a roll of the dice?
He sets as his recipients all shipboard Security personnel and thinks things through. After a moment, he writes, All Security personnel to emergency standby. Everyone is to be ready for deployment on five minutes' notice. Duty tactical team of six equipped for crowd control and riots to Transporter Room 1. Patrol officers on duty or on deck, take stations at each transporter room. We may have distraught people coming up. We may have
He pauses. Controlling transporter room controls is a lifeline, for Nikolai, Marala or anyone else. He deletes the last three words and writes,
Transporter room controls are life or death for people on the surface. Any anomalous beam-ups are to be reported directly to me on the double. GRAHAM.
He sends the text and then wonders, And now--what the hell do I do?
h/t good guidance from EH
Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 29 Jul 2019 at 11:05 AM.
Reason: ital added
Back around one corner and out of sight, Rangin can hear the faint sounds of a door open and the sound of Kylah stepping in. Something seems wrong. If it is Alvarez, why did she look so nervous, well there is only one way to find out.
While pulling out his datapad, he can see that he has little time remaining and indeed should be heading back to the bridge. He stands for a moment frustrated, but unwilling to choose between the two options of staying or leaving, before realising there is little he could do here. If she is telling the truth, he will look an untrusting fool and if she is trying to cover for something, then it would be just as bad.
Rangin looks up details of compartment 7B41 to see who or what is contained within. It seems familiar somehow, something tells him he should know who is in that compartment, he just cannot place where he has seen that detail before.
Acknowledging Bennett's update with a nod, Nia feels a little ripple of anxiety before responding to the department chiefs. "That's excellent, Cmdr. Cheverez, just what we needed. And everyone: we're just heading into orbit. As I suggested earlier to Lt. Kendin, if you haven't yet, make your own suggestions or requests regarding whatever we might utilize from Novy Rostov."
The planet looms very large in the viewscreen. "I'm very sorry to hear it has even less time left than we thought," she says softly, a sudden sense of grief stabbing at her. Watching Novy Rostov evokes the painful memory of watching her own doomed planet recede from the viewscreen of the Starfleet ship that took Nia to her new life.
She clears her throat. "Thanks to all of you. Until the Captain relieves me I'll still be here, of course, but if I don't get to say it later... I'm very grateful for your guidance, and everything you and your crew teams have achieved."
If there aren't any other questions or comments, Nia will thank them again and ask Kendin to stay on the communication while Patel closes the channels to the others.
"Kendin, we're getting into a synchronous orbit; you can work with Leventhal and Bennett to coordinate velocity and altitude/distance."
While she speaks, she pulls out her communicator and types a quick note.
RANGIN, ENS. - Just heard your proposal has been approved and is in use by the lottery program. Wanted to send my congratulations and gratitude.
Also, I've recced you for inclusion in any team observing/implementing the lottery, w/captain's permission. You might be needed dirtside. Suggest you finish prepping your quarters for our extra guests so you'll be ready for transport ASAP. Many thanks. -- NIA
Sending it off, Nia sighs and relaxes her tightened muscles.
Last edited by SidonianGal; 29 Jul 2019 at 05:20 PM.
Even Ferguson's voice makes Kylah cringe. When the door whooshes open, she remains in the corridor, afraid to enter. Her gaze ignores him to scan anxiously around the deck near his desk. "Ex--excuse me." The words are forced. "I must... I dropped my communicator." She does not see it, but realizes that she can see only a small portion of his cabin from where she stands.
He stares at her, then breaks into a pleased grin. "Uh-huh. Or are you here to make an early start on our time in the sack together?"
Do not react to his vile words. It is what he expects. "I wish to retrieve my communicator," she mutters. "I cannot... perform the task we discussed... without it."
As anxious as she is, Kylah has a vague sensation that she is being watched--not just by Ferguson's insinuating stare. She glances back in the corridor, but... no. Her fear is making her paranoid, she realizes when returning to glare at Ferguson.
"You knew I would return. You must have seen me drop it when you...." She flushes but lifts her chin, girding herself. "Give it to me."
He says, "Don't they teach you Communications types how to hang onto your communicators better? Sorry, but I don't have it, princess."
If she had a defense against his insult, she would feel better. But he is right. By now she has lost track of how many of her communicators have been stolen or destroyed.
But his denial makes her angry. Though wary of being alone with him, Kylah pushes away her caution in favor of her need to retrieve her device. She hesitates only for a second before walking inside, letting the door shut behind her.
Rangin sees that those particular quarters are assigned to two Engineering personnel: Lt. JG Mark Ferguson, a transporter specialist, and Lt. Hans Meyer, a shuttlecraft maintenance crew chief. Just then, his communicator vibrates.
Roble, Cheverez and Villa sign off with their thanks to Onn. Kendin decides, after speaking to Leventhal and Bennett, to have the Sarafina also assume a synchronous orbit, over the colony but 20 km aft of the Yorktown. Both ships settle into their orbits.
"Shall I notify the Captain that we've returned, ma'am?" Patel asks Onn.
"By all means, Mr. Patel," Nia says. Then a thought strikes her and she swiftly turns to the Security station. "Oh! Boo--Graham," she amends, "The captain told me she wanted a Security team to beam down once we arrived. I'm sorry, did I tell you? I don't recall." Her fingers rub her eyes for a second while she shrugs sheepishly. "Lotta balls in the air. Maybe you've already arranged it, but if you want to go dirtside to be with your--uh, your team--go right ahead."
Graham's momentarily surprised that it sounds like Nia was about to use Marala's old term of endearment, but recovers and clears this throat. He exhales a deep breath. "Damned hard to say whether its better to be dirtside in touch with things moment to moment or up here, just in case things go south."
What do I say--or do--if I run into Marala or Nikolai?
He scowls. "Better to try and stop that from happening on the front lines," he says half to himself and half to Nia. Graham types a careful order: I'll lead a team of 5 plus myself to the Colony. Phaser I's only. Uniforms spotless and creased--change on your way to meet me in Transporter Room 2 if you need to. We're going to give radiating calm, professionalism, and compassion as a good a go as we can under these circumstances. He cc's Nia and nods to take his leave from the Bridge after noting that someone will need to take his place.
Nia thinks back and winces when only now she remembers Singh's exact words. Damn, I shouldn't be this flaky yet. What time is it? She's not due for her regular infusion for hours. Must be stress.
"Graham--let's just have the team stand ready to beam down at once. She didn't say it directly, but I think the Captain doesn't want an armed force there right from the start. If she judges it necessary, though, you guys'll need to be there ASAP." She tries to catch his eye to send an apologetic smile.
Patel notifies the Captain, who immediately asks to be beamed up to the Yorktown with the landing party and one other person. "Senior officers and members of the original landing party to meet in Conference Room 1 in ten minutes, if you please, Mr. Onn," she says.
Now inside Ferguson's quarters, Kylah keeps her distance--getting only as close as is necessary to see the area where he grabbed her. "I had my communicator in here," she says in a low, steady voice. "But when I left, I did not. So search beneath your desk. Or chair. It is mine. And you cannot get what you wish without it."
Ferguson laughs, shakes his head, and then makes a show of looking around him, and standing up and looking at the chair in which he was just sitting. Then he peeks up each uniform shirt sleeve, lips pursed, mock-seriously. "Nope, no communicator here!"
Rage bubbles over. Kylah stalks closer to his desk, still warily remaining perhaps a meter away from him.
"Move back! I will look for it!" Her darting gaze takes in the deck beneath him, the tops of his desk, dresser and night table--and even those of his cabinmate, whoever that may be.
"Whatever you say, princess," he says.
At each location she chooses, she extends her psi sense towards his mind to see if he is lying, or if he reacts in any suspicious way when her attention moves to any particular direction.
The overwhelming impression she gets from Ferguson is contemptuous amusement. He crosses his arms and stands there, making no move towards her, faintly smiling.
Kylah jerks her head toward him. "Do you not wish your money? I do not understand--why are you doing this?" No longer caring about his privacy or her own quaint sense of propriety, she yanks open any drawer she can get her hands on to rummage inside. "It must be here, there is nowhere else!"
"Oh, for chrissakes," he says angrily. "Stay out of my stuff, would you?" He goes to his bedside table and pulls out a communicator. "Here, this is a spare. Just take it and get the hell out of here, would you?"
Kylah stares at the device in his hand. "But--I want my own." Even to herself, she sounds like a child deprived of a toy.
He may think what he likes of her--she certainly has no control over that. But this is no mere whim. Her device stores far too much incriminating data, including today's messages from Aldaan and Ruth. It is encrypted, but she knows any code other than a one-time pad can be cracked.
"Please, Lieutenant. Of what use is it to you?" She pauses, thinking, then steps closer with her hand out. "I will use yours now, if you cannot be reasoned with. But afterward I want my communicator."
Kylah cradles the device in her palms, as if Lt. Ferguson just handed her a pearl. For the first time she believes she might have an advantage. She steps backwards again but does not follow his command to leave. Instead, she opens the communicator.
"I must make sure you have given me a working device." Her fingers tap away. "You are now in such a curious hurry. Do you not remember I was meant to send you a deposit?" Kylah glances up at him with a wry look. "I did not realize 8,000 credits meant so little to you, your highness."
With the last sarcastic words she presses the button to send the empty message she just composed to her own device--which may, she hopes, trigger its notification tone and reveal its location.
Rangin shakes his head in deep disappointment. So Kylah is lying about who she is currently visiting, and it seems she is in even deeper than he thought.
Ferguson? Well he had been someone Kylah had mentioned a long while ago and then chewed Rangin out about not that long ago at Fujishiro’s funeral. He remembered looking up details on the transport engineer after his and Kylah's first... outing.
At the funeral, it was a case of how much she hated Ferguson and Zweller, and now here she is walking into the former's quarters, a proverbial lion's den if ever there was one. What is she playing at? Is she being two-faced and in reality, she's been hooking up with him?
But she certainly isn't acting like it. Far more that he must have had some hold over her, for some reason. Is it something to do with what she had said earlier about bad news, someone important close to her maybe dying or perhaps some other matter?
Rangin wonders if Graham knows about this little sojourn of Kylah’s. Perhaps he could take two birds with one stone. Graham, being the over-protective, controlling idiot that he is, may not take kindly to Kylah in this situation, and there is little doubt that Ferguson would not be pleased if the ACOS is snooping around him. A pair of LTs fighting over a princess...
His thoughts are interrupted and then lightened somewhat by the second message from Lt. Onn. A massive sense of relief washes over him as the first piece of news filters in, that more than expected should be saved. The first bit of good news since this entire thing started.
The second part where he is being recommended forward to assist with the lottery is unexpected, although welcome indeed. If only to make sure they do it properly. But he has little time now, this diversion with Kylah has taken too long and he needs to get back to the bridge.
Looking at the message again as if to confirm to himself it is real, he notices that Lt Onn has signed it as Nia. There is a small disconnect in Rangin's thinking at the sudden informality. He shrugs, perhaps it's the privilege of rank, but perhaps she is sticking to her word, after all.
As for Kylah, Rangin wonders if he can decipher what is going on, because it is obvious she is unlikely to tell him. Perhaps he can nudge her somewhat and sends a brief message to her communicator:
“Kylah - I guess the communicator isn’t the only thing that is lost. When did Alvarez begin with an F? -- Velir”
Message sent, he heads back to the Bridge, to see where he is going to be needed first.
Nia unconsciously sits at the edge of the captain's chair, now ambivalent about whether she'll be glad to relinquish it or not. "Yes ma'am," she says briskly, curious about the addition to Singh's party.
"Patel, please contact all senior officers and tell them to convene in CR 1 in ten minutes. Also..." She totes up a mental list of the group who went planetside this morning. "Uh, Lt. Graham *, Lt. Coimbra, Ens. St. Croix, Dr. Bennett--" He'll have to take a break from the Sarafina, I'm sure he'll be crushed--"Ens. Rangin and Ens. Kylah."
She pauses. As a pro tem captain, Kendin should probably be in on this, but there's so much work to do on that little ship that it seems a waste to interrupt him for a meeting. She'll wait to ask Singh if she needs Kendin, but decides to be prepared. "Also, please open a channel to the Sarafina and let Lt. Kendin be aware that we might be patching him in for a meeting in ten."
Catching Patel's gaze, she nods her gratitude and adds a meaningful, "If I could only give out stripes, Mr. Patel, your uniform would be a little more flashy."
Kylah's new communicator shows that her message was sent, but she does not hear any telltale beep in Ferguson's quarters.
Ferguson is clearly annoyed. He comes forward as if to grab her and force her from his quarters.
The young man from India smiles. "Thank you, Lieutenant, but it's no problem, really," he says, and begins sending the messages.
Graham gets on the turbolift, leaving the Bridge.
Rangin and the others from the original landing party, except Kylah, each get a text on their communicators: By order of the Captain, please report to Conference Room 1 in ten minutes. PATEL, Duty Communications Officer.
Nothing? Kylah's mind whirls with confusion and disbelief as she stares at the foreign device in her hands. How can this be? What can he have done with her communicator? And why?
She nearly attempts a second message, but Ferguson's aggressive advance releases her from her near-paralysis. "No!" she cries, moving away. "I--I will go, I will go." Even as she promises this and backs farther away, her eyes dart around the quarters in hopes of finding the elusive device.
Her backward steps pause before the door can open. "Just tell me." The words barely make it past her tightening throat. "Do you truly mean to help me? Not just me, but my friends? They have done nothing to you. Do not let your animus toward me prevent you from saving their lives." She swallows. "I must know. Please, sir, will you still follow through on our deal?"
"Of course I will, princess," Ferguson says, taking another step closer. "A deal's a deal, after all, and you're paying me very well. For all my many faults, I think you'll find that I never go back on my word." He grins crookedly. "But if you stick around another second, I'll just have to assume you want to make an early start on our time in bed...?"
On the Bridge, Onn is notified that the landing party has beamed up from Novy Rostov. The Captain calls from Transporter Room 1: "Mr. Onn, thank you, you are relieved. Please report to Conference Room 1. Mr. Bennett, you have the Bridge."
Rangin is just about to get into the turbolift when he gets the message to report to Conference Room One.
Ten minutes, that is more time than he is expecting, which leaves only one course of action to take. A quick diversion before he gets there to grab a coffee and then find a seat at the far end of the table from the important people.
Perhaps he will be able to find out if his name is mentioned with the lottery changes and in that case, if Lt Onn is there, thank her personally.
He thinks about the message he receives from the planet from someone desperate, but until he knows how the lottery is set up, he is not going to give anyone any false hope regardless of their actions.
"Aye aye, ma'am," Nia says automatically, rising from the chair.
She gives a general look of 'thanks and so long' to the crew that's helped corral and commandeer the Sarafina, provided the information and assessments needed, all while maintaining their regular tasks. And smiles at Cece for good luck.
Heading to the turbolift, Nia speculates on how lucky she was that Singh left her with these particular officers. Replace just about any one of them with certain of their peers might've made this whole watch a rockier journey.
Even Thalen helped get rid of the dead weight, Nia thinks, admittedly uncharitably.
She decides that in the few minutes before the meeting, she'll head to the nearest rec room to grab some lemon tea, then hasten to CR1. Normally she'd go straight there, but Nia prefers to procrastinate joining what is bound to be a pretty grim confab.
Ferguson is too close, but at first Kylah refuses to move until she has heard his promise to assist her. She exhales in relief--and not a little surprise--when he claims to be a man of his word.
But that is a double-edged sword, considering his revolting warning. Her lips had already parted to thank him just before Ferguson made his threat, but instead of replying she inhales sharply. Face aflame, Kylah turns and flees like a rabbit from a wolf.
She cannot even think of their deal. Only her missing communicator matters right now. He must have powered it down, or turned off notifications altogether: these are the only explanations she can imagine for its silence after pinging it.
But why? Why, what does he expect to find?
She turns a corner and stops in place, her mind churning so frantically she cannot even walk. Is it greed? Does he hope to find her the identity of her 'friend'? Perhaps to get additional money? Kylah is uneasy about that prospect, but her fear is far, far worse when she remembers exactly what Mark Ferguson now has in his possession.
Almost everything incriminating is on that device: her messages from her guardian, the interaction with Ruth Soeryadjaya, several encrypted messages that--even if they are unreadable--are certainly suspicious simply for being kept hidden.
A cold river of sweat runs down the small of her back. She cannot allow this. And right now she is so terrified she cannot even recall whether she has a prayer of retrieving that data. How else will she be able to contact her uncle's friend? She could go to the terminal in her room, but...
Kylah's heart rises to her throat when she remembers that this information no longer exists on the Yorktown's system: she bleached it specifically so it could not be retrieved.
She shuts her eyes, unable to bear the onslaught of despair. She keeps breathing deeply. Do not panic. Do not. There must be a way...
No: She needs her communicator, that is all. A device she cannot access. A device that Ferguson now has in his possession.
Her eyes open. Panic has shut her mind to any real solutions. She cannot remember if her communicator will be locatable even if it is off. She cannot even remember if she can retrieve information from a terminal--either alone, or with yet another person's help.
Kylah runs through the names of her Communications colleagues. Not Lt. Thalen. He is generous and patient, but surely her loss of yet another communicator, and causing more work during such a crisis will anger even the good-natured Andorian. Patel is on the Bridge, of course. Kylah knows nothing about Lt. JG Gallaya.
At last she alights on Garcia. An awkward choice. His mistake on OCIII contributed to her being left alone to face a potentially deadly enemy. Even if it was then-Lt. JG Kjaerstad's malicious decision.
Then again... aside from that, he is a good choice. He is a wonder at retrieving data. And indeed, his failure to protect her on OCIII might make him ideal; he might think he owes her. Kylah is reluctant to bring that up, but hopefully he will think of this on his own.
She lifts Ferguson's communicator.
GARCIA, LT. JG: Sir, I am afraid I cannot find my communicator. Unfortunately I believe it has been powered down. Can you locate it nevertheless?
And is there a way to lock and temporarily deny access to it for anyone but me? I am ashamed that I cannot recall the answers to these questions. Please, I need your help. -- KYLAH, ENS.
Once done, she limps--her gait is better now--to her quarters as fast as she can. Her terminal might be of use.
Lt. Cecilia Bennett rises from Nav, smiles and nods to Onn. "Thank you, ma'am. Good luck with the meeting." From the slight catch in her voice, I think you'll need it is clearly her unspoken afterthought. Patel also smiles encouragingly as Onn passes him. As the turbolift doors close, Onn sees Bennett take the big chair.
Graham receives a followup text: By order of the Captain, please report to Transporter Room 1, not Conference Room 1, immediately. PATEL.
Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 08 Aug 2019 at 12:35 PM.
Garcia replies, Hi, Kylah. I'm in the Communications Center and just ran a search for your communicator. No sign of it, sorry. Without a link, I don't know of any way to lock it or temporarily deny access. Where and when did you last see it? Did you want to report the loss to Security? GARCIA.
Onn is able to get some lemon tea with a little time to spare.
Dr. Bennett gets another text: Please acknowledge earlier message as to Conference Room 1. Urgent. PATEL.
Graham arrives in Transporter Room 1. Chief Nguyen is behind the control console, and the First Officer is standing nearby, talking to Marala, who looks tense.
Several Elasian curses, and a few Klingon ones, rush through Kylah's mind as she slows down slightly to read Garcia's message. The curses are aimed at herself. She is the one who lost control of her device. She should never, ever have let it go.
Having now also lost her bearings, she looks up to see if she is in the correct corridor leading to her quarters--7C12, not very far from Ferguson's, 7B41, which is a discovery she really should have made by now.
Garcia's query about alerting Security makes Kylah shake her head vehemently. "No, no, he must not" she whispers, in horror at imagining Lt. Graham or, worse, Cmdr. Vargas, finding out. She is safe for today--surely Security has much more important things on its plate over the next few days. But soon someone must review security requests, and it is quite likely the ACoS.
Lt. Graham would not be fobbed off with a pathetic lie, such as the one she is about to write to Lt. Garcia.
GARCIA, LT. - Thank you, sir, I would not wish to waste Security's time with such a minor incident, not during a real crisis. I must have forgotten it somewhere. In fact, I was in the Mess earlier. It is probably there.
Kylah is not finished, but she starts walking with determined but slower pace. Is Lt. Garcia curious as to whose device she is using? If so, he would not have to wonder very long: Presumably it has been assigned to Ferguson.
Why does he have two? I should be the one with multiple spares, she thinks bitterly.
At least three times--four, now--she has been unable to use her communicator when she most needed it. In a luxury spa lying underneath a near-stranger, her purse with the device long since tossed to one side beneath her clothes. On Anubis, lying broken and bleeding and staring at the smashed communicator beside her.
And in her quarters, in Darren Zweller's arms, her second replacement melted by whatever weapon Zweller and Ferguson concocted to paralyze her.
She would have died, back on Anubis. A dangerously injured woman hidden in a warehouse in a large city on an unfamiliar planet, without a communicator to cry for help or--even more important--to assist the Yorktown in finding her? She was badly wounded and concussed. If Velir had not remembered to focus scans on her unique Elasian zither...
Before she had fallen unconscious, Kylah had believed herself utterly, hopelessly alone, her belongings and body physically searched and thrown away like garbage. Ferguson has now replicated this helpless situation. Sure enough, the same growing sense of vulnerability, of violation, squeezes her chest tight. She cannot breathe naturally without reminding herself.
Is this why Ferguson took her communicator? To leave her alone and untraceable? Or at least, unidentifiable?
If so, Kylah thinks in a desperate attempt at rationality, her vulnerability would be a mere side benefit for him. Why would he bother? He has already forced that repulsive agreement from her.
No, right now it is likely her data he wishes to plunder. Regardless, both possibilities must be rectified.
Would you do me another favor? One of the engineers lent me this spare device. Could you please reassign it to me temporarily? I must be able to be located and receive communications as soon as possible. I would do it myself but am not yet at my terminal, and will need to concentrate on the data. Please?
Once she sends her messages, her pace increases until she finds her quarters.
Last edited by choie; 13 Aug 2019 at 04:46 AM.
Reason: changed 'quiely' to 'likely'
The warm tea soothes Nia, who sips while walking and makes sure she doesn't spill a drop. Normally her tastes are drawn to cold, even icy beverages--despite all these years from home, she has yet to take such treats for granted. But right now she wants the familiar, homey comfort of heat.
Heading out to the conference room, she suddenly wonders: why is she invited? Presumably for an update, but that's nothing Singh couldn't get from Roble, Cheverez and other department heads. Well, she's not gonna complain. As difficult a situation as this is, Nia wants to be involved, and is grateful for the chance to hear whatever's happening planetside.
With a sigh of relief, Kylah types out a quick message of gratitude and finds her quarters. She uses her palm on the scanner to identify herself before the door opens and she can finally rush to her terminal.
Logging into her Starfleet account and then the external network, she races to change her passwords anywhere she can. Her first destination is her message account, then the private storage account shared by her and Aldaan.
But, of course, Ferguson has had several minutes of unhindered access to her communicator. Kylah does not dare to believe he has not, at the very least, checked her personal message history. Her attempts to protect her most confidential data may be far too late.
She shakes her head and tries to push that fear from her mind. There are two jobs to accomplish. First, she needs to get the message Ferguson sent her with his bank information. She did not have time to bleach that, so it should be available to her via her regular inbox. If it is, she will make the transfer of 8,000 credits from her account to his. And will exhale in relief that this job, at least, is completed.
A thought crosses her, and at once she looks back into her sent-messages folder. Has Ferguson sent anything from her account yet? He might have tried to get in contact with Ms. Soeryadjaya himself.
Kylah no longer has the woman's contact information, since she was so careful to erase its history on her Starfleet account. Perhaps if Ferguson made contact, she can grab it from her synchronized sent-mail folder. That is one small gain.
Reaching Conference Room 1, Nia hesitates for a moment. She wonders if it's okay to enter a little early, or if others are in there speaking privately. Well, she decides, if they wanted privacy they probably wouldn't be hanging around in a semi-public space.
She enters* and takes a look around.
* Or, if it's better protocol, she'll hit the door panel to trigger the chime.
Cmdr. Vargas seems not to notice anything amiss. He says, "Ah, Mr. Graham! Good. I hope all went well with the Sarafina intercept? You remember Mrs. Gromov, I see. She's been appointed as our liaison by Gov. Voronko to see that the, er, lottery process goes smoothly and fairly. Please escort her to Lt. Dosmukhambetov, the Chief Computer Officer, on Deck 7 so that he can explain the programming. When you're both done with that, please bring her to Conference Room 1 to join the discussion there." Vargas gives a courtly nod to Marala, says, "If you'll excuse me, please, Mrs. Gromov," and leaves.
Onn sees that Yorktown's main conference room is already filling up. The Captain is in her accustomed chair, already talking quietly with the Chief Engineer and Science Officer. She nods pleasantly to Onn as the Sidonian officer enters. Dr. Villa, Lt. Thalen and others come in and take their seats.
Teeth pulling at her lower lip, Kylah exhales as mixed emotions battle each other in her mind. First, relief that Lt. Ferguson has not contacted Ms. Soeryadjaya.
...At least, not through her account. She blinks at her foolishness in forgetting a simple fact: He could have used the contact info on Kylah's communicator to send the woman a message via his own.
She can do nothing about that. Meanwhile she finishes transferring the credits to Ferguson's bank, assuming there are no problems in the process.
Distractedly she glances at her balance and sees she is actually running low. But unlike the mess on Anubis, she can easily tell her uncle about this. No, not can... she must, in order to get Lt. Ferguson his two million.
Now fear, more intense an emotion than her fleeting relief, floods her with adrenaline. She must find a way to get in touch with Ruth Soeryadjaya.
Nia returns the Captain's nod and moves behind the seat nearest Thalen, greeting him while letting her eyes scan the room again. No Booker? Weird; he had a few minutes' head start on her.
Probably he's grabbing a drink or a bite to eat, or needed to visit the head, or... any number of things, really. Nia shrugs it off. She wonders if she should go up to Singh, who's likely to want a report. If she wanted me there, she'd've made it clear, she reasons, and sits down.
"Thanks for your help," she murmurs to the Andorian beside her. "Your crew was really put through the wringer with all those distress calls. I appreciate your sending Patel in, too. Always knew he was talented but he anticipated my needs and reacted fast to my orders. Who could ask for anything more?"
Now why does that suddenly put a melody in her head? Ajay, she realizes with a smile, remembering the time Johnson tried to teach her to
.
Then she sobers up, fast. Now isn't the time for sentiment or amusement. "The captain seems calm enough," she says, still low. "But that's her style. Wouldn't dare play against her in a poker game."
Thoughts still in a whirl, Rangin stops just outside the Briefing Room and takes a couple of deep breaths unsure of what awaits him inside. He straightens his uniform to give the best impression and casually plasters a friendly, but weary smile across his face and heads through the doors.
Seeing all the officers in there makes him very glad indeed he is just slightly ahead of time. He finds a seat slightly off to one side, out of the way where all good ensigns should be.
If any of the officers did wish to speak to him, he would be open to discussion, but at this time, there is little more he can do other than let the officers in charge decide what is going to happen next.
He flicks his datapad open and looks over the report he sent out, from the bullet point points to the greater details on his suggestion, if only to answer any questions if he is to be asked again. Other than that, there is little to do but wait.
Kylah's subspace transfer to Ferguson's bank seems to go through without a hitch, and she gets an automatic receipt.
"That's true," Thalen says quietly to Onn, nodding. "And as to Mr. Patel, I was glad to help. He's one of my up-and-comers; there's nothing he can't handle."
Dr. Bennett, having beamed over from the Sarafina, enters the conference room and sits down, joining Ens. Rangin, Lt. Coimbra and Ens. St. Croix in chairs along the rear bulkhead. One chair in that row remains empty.
Cmdr. Vargas then enters and looks around. He crosses over to Thalen and asks in a voice low enough not to carry, "Where is Mr. Kylah? Other than Mr. Graham, who is escorting our NR liaison at the moment, she's the only member of the original landing party who's not here."
The Andorian frowns. "She asked for a break from Bridge duty some time ago, sir. I haven't seen her lately. Would you like me to find her, sir?"
The First Officer is clearly displeased. "Yes. Step outside and page her, if you would, please, Mr. Thalen. I don't want to keep the Captain waiting."
"Of course, sir." Thalen leaves.
Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 13 Aug 2019 at 03:19 PM.
The sight of the bank deposit receipt in her inbox releases only a tiny part of the anxiety gripping Kylah in its fist. She closes the notification window and returns to the bigger problem. The solution is both insecure and risky. She must access her regular comms. screen as if on duty, and open a channel to the planet to contact Ms. Soeryadjaya.
Of course, there is no duty-based reason for her to contact this woman, and anyone examining the incoming or outgoing transmissions will see this curiosity.
But there is no other option. She has no time to hop through several levels of private networks, false IPs and darknet paths she and her uncle have long set up for emergencies like this. Kylah taps her way into her official comms. screen and, fingers a blur, enters a command to open a channel to the Novy Rostov colony, specifically to Ruth Soeryadjaya.
While waiting for the confirmation that the colonist is able to receive, she composes a message. Of course she must warn Ms. Soeryadjaya not to accept any contacts from Ferguson.
Her draft reads:
RS:
Tentative arrangements are in place for you and your assistant. (Who must be included, and whom you should refer to as a relative. I will explain later.) Remain together and send the additional name. If there is any change in your location or status, tell me at once.
Second:
Out of necessity a crew member has been engaged to assist. Do not trust any communication that does not include a reference to my family's House as seen on our standard: House of the Silver Weeping Tree. If contacted by someone without that reference, do not accept. I have not permitted such contact.
Meanwhile, stand by. Do not contact me unless in emergency.
-- K, House of Silver Weeping Tree
She leans back in her chair, every muscle grateful for the opportunity to relax. Now all she can do is pray that she gets through to the colony, and that during the onslaught of activity right now, this open channel will pass by undetected. Later, when she has more time, Kylah will do her best to hide the transmission. If she has not already been caught. It is inevitable: eventually someone will read the communication log. Unless it is my assignment to do so, she thinks with a dark laugh. No, life is too hard for such good fortune.
Her mouth tightens into a grim line. It does not matter. She has resigned herself to being discovered. As long as Ruth Soeryadjaya is safe onboard, Kylah will have done her family duty.
Far better to suffer Starfleet's punishment--or even Ferguson's--than face the future her Guardian has in mind for her if she fails.
Nia's eyes widen slightly with pride when she hears that Booker's been assigned to greet the representative. Sweet, they think of him as more than just muscle. As well they should. And maybe this will help, at least for a little while, take his mind off the agony of knowing his old friend and her child are in danger. Gotta think of something to help them, she vows.
Wait, what did Vargas just say? Kylah's not here--and now Thalen says that Kylah was the one to initiate her departure from the Bridge?
Nia blinks again in surprise. Why did she assume Thalen made the personnel switch? Because she should've asked me.
It was puzzling that Patel had appeared out of nowhere. Kinda hard to notice where all the chess pieces are when they jump all over by themselves--and I'm busy running the Bridge.
So now the Captain, First Officer, department chiefs, Kylah's own direct superior and her fellow landing party members are waiting on the ensign. How many times is that girl gonna get herself lost?
Nia has plenty of sympathy for what Kylah's been through, especially since she opened up to Nia last night. But...
Sighing, Nia can't help it--her eyes shift toward Rangin with a questioning arched eyebrow. He went out not long after Kylah, as far as she can recall. Her expression is non-accusatory: Did you see where she went?
After a minute or so, Kylah has her reply from Soeryadjaya: I must admit I'm pleased by neither this change of plans nor these conditions, but I understand and will comply - unless it becomes obvious that you have failed me. Please advise ASAP when I will be evacuated..
"Mr. Graham," says Chief Nguyen gravely.
Marala takes Graham's arm with a bemused expression and they leave the transporter room together.
With a long sigh, Kylah leans back further. She has not realized until now just how exhausted she is. She takes a few seconds' rest during which she extends her gratitude for this one thing, one thing, that has gone well.
Again she must repeat the process from this morning: transfer the conversation to Ferguson's--no, her--communicator and her private text message account.
...Which means she has flouted Starfleet's regulations at least four times in a single day. Not since her attempt to run away from both her uncle and the Yorktown has she been so disobedient.
The brief job done, Kylah can now reply to the latest message from her communicator--and more specifically, her private, personal account.
My apologies for being curt, ma'am. I only restrict the terms to protect the venture. The crewmember assisting us is skillful and risking much. Accordingly I have offered him a significant reward at great expense to me
A sudden wave of nausea rolls over her. She presses her hand over her mouth and stands, the other hand clutching the edge of her desk in a white-knuckled grip. A few steadying breaths and, though her skin feels clammy, she is safe enough to sit down, editing the last few words.
...significant reward at great expense. But he is not above asking for more. I do not wish you to be exposed. As for timing, I believe the plan will proceed within the hour. It is best that I not share precise details yet, for they may change and there must be no miscommunication or confusion.
Please, madam, what is your associate's name, and can you ensure that you are together?
Kylah frowns, then adds:
Note that there must be two of you. Families have precedence and will be less suspicious than one single person. Please let me know immediately.
A lie, of course--at least, as she understands things from Velir's description. But Kylah does not trust Ms. Soeryadjaya to make an effort on her employee's behalf. The other woman's callous disregard for her assistant earlier has, paradoxically, made Kylah even more determined to save him. Or her.
After signing the note solely with the name of her family's House to prove her identity, Kylah is satisfied. She presses SEND.
Last edited by choie; 14 Aug 2019 at 11:44 AM.
Reason: forgot the dang tree
Rangin greets the others as they arrive and sit near him and exchanges a few pleasantries even given the situation. He sees Cmdr Vargas talking to the other senior officers and wonders what the kerfuffle is between the senior officers. It's probably something important. After their little chat and the glance at the empty chair, Rangin beings to wonder who is missing. But then again, if it was the same people who attended the meeting earlier, then where the hell was Lt Graham? No wonder Vargas looks so annoyed, let down by his ACoS. Although if Lt Onn didn't know, there was no way he did.
When Lt Onn looks across at him as if he might know something, he nods to her in acknowledgement and then heads across as the other senior officers have moved on.
"Ma'am. I'm sorry, but I have no idea where Mr Graham is", Rangin says quietly lowering his voice for just her, "that is who we are waiting for, isn't it?"
At first, Nia is taken aback by the thought that anyone would think Booker capable of this kind of irresponsibility.
Then: Oh, right. The Rangin/Booker feud. Ugh, men.
She maintains her steady, meaningful gaze and slowly shakes her head. C'mon, Ensign, put aside that hate-fest between you and Graham. Why would I be asking you about Booker?
Of course, she could just say "No, dummy, it's Kylah, who else?" But atypically, Vargas didn't make his query to anyone but Thalen, displaying more tact than usual when pissed off at an officer. So discretion prohibits her from being specific.
Rangin's smart enough: Once his brain catches onto the fact that Thalen--Communications Officer, hello--left the room, he'll put two and two together. To help, she tilts her head slightly toward Thalen’s chair beside her.
Last edited by SidonianGal; 14 Aug 2019 at 12:39 PM.
Kylah soon has this text response: My assistant's name is Martin Yarrow. He's in another room at this hotel, and we can meet on a few minutes' notice. I'll tell him to pack and be ready to leave at any time, as I already am.
Rangin notices Lt Onn's nod towards Thalen's chair and lets out a low quiet whistle.
"It must be serious, if Cmdr Vargas is asking Lt. Thalen to find Lt. Graham. I guess if anyone can find him it would be our Comms chief. I'm surprised, I didn't think he would skip this meeting if he is going to be arranging any of the security. I know he didn't like my proposals at the last meeting, but I can't think why he wouldn't be here at this one. Everyone else from that meeting is present."
Confused, Rangin sits back slightly in the chair and glances round the room and then back to Lt Onn. He knows Kylah is capable of getting into plenty of trouble, but missing a Captain's meeting, well Graham is certainly one-upping her.
"Only thing I can think of is..." he tails off as he thinks of at least one reason for Graham's absence and Rangin had met her in the colony. Raising her presence now would really not be a good idea with Lt Onn, especially given the ...togetherness... between her and Graham.
Nia looks from side to side, wondering if anyone else is catching Rangin's words--he's speaking quietly (even more than usual). But if others are paying attention they'll probably wonder the same thing she is: is this guy still foggy from his oxygen deprivation during his skydiving accident?
She waits until no one seems to be watching her, then shakes her head yet again with an exasperated sideways twist of her mouth.
Hunting for a way to describe Kylah without naming her, she alights on one facet of the girl that most men would recognize.
Lifting her hands slightly, Nia uses them to outline an hourglass figure.
Last edited by SidonianGal; 15 Aug 2019 at 05:11 PM.
Kylah's stomach is still somewhat queasy and her heart is palpitating.She presses one hand flat against her chest, which helps ground her when she is in panic-attack mode; she senses one coming on now.
As she gets up for some water, she attempts to reassure herself: But it is all right, she gave me the name, she will not be fooled by that revolting man. Everything will all work--
The communicator startles her. Wary, she lifts the device and opens it.
"Ens. Kylah? This is Lt. Thalen. Didn't you receive the earlier message for the meeting in Conference Room 1?" He doesn't sound angry, but she has never heard him so... clipped. Urgent. "The Captain is meeting with senior officers and the members of the original NR landing party. Cmdr. Vargas just asked about you. Report to Conference Room 1 on the double."
Something within Kylah shrinks back at hearing Lt. Thalen. He has always been so sympathetic and friendly to her. But what does he mean, what meeting? What message?
Heat blooms on her cheeks. "I did not--"
She cuts herself off. Ferguson. The message must have come during the time she left her communicator behind at Ferguson's quarters, but before Kylah was able to ask Mr. Garcia to transfer her details to the new device.
Still, the unread message should have been waiting for her once she opened the newly reassigned communicator ten minutes ago, or the terminal for that matter. Why had it not shown up?
Again an answer springs to mind: Because Ferguson deleted it. And not just from her communicator, but her main account--something one could easily do remotely. Just out of maliciousness.
All this flies through her consciousness in a few seconds. She does not explain to Lt. Thalen. No point in excuses. Having lost yet another communicator is not better than not checking her messages.
"I-I am very sorry, sir. I will be there at once." Her voice is breathy and uneven as her heart races faster. Even as she speaks, she hurries to her sink to help counteract the rising panic.
Posting rules
Reply with quote