loki
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:54 GMT
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Post by loki on Jan 16, 2007 22:04:30 GMT
The boys disentangled themselves from one another on the floor and scrambled to their feet. Lex gave them a disapproving look as she stepped around them towards the others. Danny straightened up his clothes and scoffed at Steve. Danny and Steve. Now there was something Lex hadn’t envisaged seeing on this little trip to Earth. The last few days she had spent checking herself every time her gaze had wondered over Steve’s muscular frame, and now here she was with Daniel, and after last night…
Her thoughts were interrupted as Melain rushed passed her to David’s aid. It looked like they had been in quite some bother. Maybe it was best not to mention they fact that they had spent the night in a hotel and the day sitting in an office being served tea. The group fumbled around for a few minutes getting their bearings and greeting one another. It was Hannah that finally brought up the levelling question.
“Where is Harrias?” She asked quietly. A silence dropped over the group.
“We…uhm…we’re not really…haven’t um…seen him in a while.” Frek stammered at a loss for words.
“How long a while?” The first officer asked quickly.
“Well, it’d be nearly, twenty four hours now…” Frek did a quick calculation and looked at Lex to check for agreement. She shrugged. Math had never been her strong point.
“Perhaps we should start with an exchange of information?” Steve interrupted calmly. Frek agreed, and with Lex’s help began to update the others with an outline about what had happened over the last two days. A brief mention of café’s, hotels, newspaper reporters and Paris later and the entire group was nice and confused.
"We've got just under 3 days then" Lucy said suddenly. Hannah looked at her with mild anticipation.
"Yes, but to do what?"
"Get to Paris" Lorre replied without looking up. As they all spoke Lex’s gaze darted from one person to another, and Danny’s did the same. She still hadn’t had a lot of time to brief him on who any of these people were, but perhaps now was not the time. She thought it was more important for them to collate their information, and hoped that he realised that too.
It was Lucy that spoke again. "Umm, how long does it take to get there? I've only been to Earth once before so..."
"Not long at all. But travel time isn't the issue. It's travelling undetected." Lorre said sensibly.
"And then working out what to do when we get there." Frek added into an uncomfortable silence.
At this point Steve held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, Ok. Time out. I suggest we all move back ‘inside’ and tell our respective stories in, um, a little more detail.” He added, leading the way. There was a general consensus of agreement from the others, and although none of them very much wanted to spend another night inside the creepy burial chamber, it was pretty much a given that another nights sleep would do them the world of good before they made for Paris.
“Ok so basically you trailed Smith to a café and he lead you to this Glet woman…” Hannah repeated, trying to get events in order now that they were all inside. Melain nodded so she carried on. “Then you trailed her to an apartment block where you overheard something about a ‘Shadow Conglomerate’, whatever that is…and something about Paris.”
“Yes. That about sums up day one.” Lorre took over. “Then we went to the hotel, and as you know Harrias never showed. In the morning we went to the Gazette office – that’s where Danny came in – and did some digging around.”
“Which is when you found out about the Presidents address?” Steve confirmed.
“From the tea lady…” Frek said absently. Melain and Lex gave him a hard stare.
“Anyway…the tea lady said something about a conglomerate Glet’s been going on about, and that she would be going to Paris to cover the story…” Lex finished, shaking her head a little. “So that’s where we figured we should be headed…”
“Makes sense to me.” Steve said with a nod. “Although I suggest we do so discretely. Three days you said right?” he asked looking to Lucy. She nodded. “Not that I am keen on the idea, but I think we ought to split up again. Travel in twos and threes over the next few days. We’d be easily spotted going as one group.” He explained his reasoning.
“A masterful plan.” Said an approving, but ragged and stretched voice from the gloom. Eight heads pivoted to watch Harrias appear from the darkness.
“What kept you?” A clipped reply; portraying impatience mixed with worry.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2007 5:11:21 GMT
Melain had tended to David’s leg as best she could given the fact she was limited to a civilian medkit, and her own ingenuity. The result was not about to win any beauty awards and would probably land any medical cadet a failing grade, but it would work. She hoped. The young Ops officer quite his complaining as soon as she gave him a decent dose of rexaline, this allowed Melain to participate fully in the sharing of details and debate of “what-to-do” without being bombarded by cries of pain in the other.
She liked the idea of travelling in groups, this way if one was captured their efforts were not all for nothing. That did leave one problem though: she was sick and tired of not being able to check in with the others regularly. Commbadges, she never knew how badly she relied on them until this past week. She was about to suggest they find a way to communicate when a very tired, very familiar voice resounded in the crypt. As if scolded Frek (who had been standing with his hand tenderly on her shoulder) leapt about two meters to the right, cursing as he collided with the wall.
“What kept you?” Melain demanded, as she began to stand. Before Harrias could answer and she could fully right herself, Melain was forced back down by the ecstasy of a certain Lt Commander Ramsey who had used her as a counter weight for his own ascension.
“Commodore Jira!” The human exclaimed, hobbling over to the Trill Captain. Melain gave an exasperated sigh as her hard work came apart, in his eagerness to “report in” David had neglected to watch his leg.
Quick introductions were made and Melain realised with a start that David had never met Harrias, in fact the young officer had never really met her officially, or Frek, or Alexis. He joined the crew in the worst possible time, during an evacuation. He probably never even had an opportunity to unpack his things before being piled into an escape pod.
Once they had all settled down again Melain posed her question once more. “You were supposed to meet us at the hotel, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
“Somehow I doubt that doctor.” Harrias replied, casting a somewhat disapproving smile in Frek’s direction. “I was a little... caught up.”
“....With what?”
”I followed Captain... yes Captain... Smith back to his home. I was going to go to the hotel, when I saw an open window.” Harrias explained. “It was far too good an opportunity to ignore, so I squeezed in. The window led to the cellar you see, he seems to be quite the wine connoisseur.... anyway from there I tried to get to the main part of the house, but that door was locked and well locked I must say. So I poked around the cellar...”
“Enjoyed a few samples.” Frek whispered under his breath. Melain gave him a sharp nudge to the diaphragm with her elbow and nodded for Harrias to continue. It was a slightly well known fact that the Captain was known to... indulge... occasionally. She had thought of lecturing him about it on a few occasions, but since it had no effect of his abilities as a leader, she let it slide.
“I heard that Mr Thelev, and I must say that 2378 was a very bad year. But that is beside the point. There was another room connected to the cellar, this one had an open door and was much more interesting. It seems Captain Smith enjoys to tinker. There were all sorts of old antic equipment in there, and some new. Most of it was in pieces, but not all. I dug around and found little of real interest. Although there was some blueprints for something he was working on, an implant of some sort. I looked for it, but apparently it was given a new home. Before I knew it My chronometer read that it was well past midnight. I had already booked the hotel rooms while Smith had been... occupied... so I knew that all of you would be holed up for the night. I was tired and feeling rather disheartened at my lack of discovery, so I made my way back to the window.” At this Harrias paused and grimaced as if recalling a horrid memory. “It was locked.”
“Locked?” The rest of the crew asked in chorus.
Harrias nodded solemnly “Yes, I suspect a brisk wind is to blame. Either way I was trapped. I tried to force it open, and failed. I tried to force the other door open, and failed. So I went back to the room of gadgets and... tinkered. I am not an Engineer, and even if I was the ancient things I had to work with, and the dim light made my job difficult. Twice I had to seek shelter. Once when a household servant cae down for a bottle of ice wine and a second time when Mr Smith brought a few guests down to show off his hobby. Thankfully the security in the place left much to be desired, no internal sensors, cameras, nothing.”
“How did you get out?” Lucy asked.
“I managed to create a single use transporter out of a replicator, several old gel packs, what was left of a transporter from the over a hundred years ago and a few other odds and ends. It was a harrowing journey and to be honest I was surprised to find myself on the other side in one piece.” Harrias replied.
“Why didn't you just break the window and climb out?” Danny asked. “Make it look like the robbery, take some the more expensive bottles, mess the place up a bit.”
Harrias’s mouth gapped open like a gold fish. “I... I assumed it was unbreakable or there was some sort of force field. I never even tried.
“Sometimes I think Starfleet over trains.” Danny commented. “So you did not bring any wine?”
“No, but I did bring these.” Harrias emptied the contents of his pockets onto a sarcophagi in the middle of the room> “They are ancient I know, but they should work.”
“Won’t the circuitry have degraded?” Lucy asked, picking up one of the devices.
“Nope, Captain Smith kept them in perfect order. I would have died for one of these as a kid.” Harrias grinned, flipping one of them open. “Just like in the days of Kirk.”
They where communicators, old flip style communicators.
(114853/23714)
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loki
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:54 GMT
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Post by loki on Jan 19, 2007 22:58:05 GMT
“So…to Paris then?” Lex asked after a few moments silence in which they were all overawed by the production of the communicators. It would certainly make things a lot easier for them all getting to Paris. The group all looked at each other for a few moments, nobody really wanting to be the one to speak. Eventually it was the Captain that took up his role as decision maker.
“Personally I think Steve’s idea is a good one. We have got three days. We should head over in two’s and three’s spread over that time, and arrange somewhere to meet up on the other end. The communicators will make that a lot easier though…” He added with the corners of his mouth turning up.
“Quite.” Said Steve promptly. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
Harrias nodded. “Ok, so, Frek and Lorre, you make the perfect couple. Youngsters off on a romantic weekend…” He said, handing the doctor a communicator. Frek and Lorre were not disappointed. Lex would have hated to see what they would have done to Harrias if he had tried to separate them.
“Might I suggest you take the trans Atlantic metro?” Steve added with a glint in his eye. “I hear it’s the kinda thing they go in for these days…” Frek looked like he was about to punch him, so Harrias quickly interrupted.
“Lex and…Danny?” He said, noticing the new civilian properly for the first time.
“I don’t think so…” Danny said unexpectedly. He turned to Lex. “Sorry, but I think –”
“That they’ll be keeping an eye on you, and know our connection. I already thought of that.” She said, not really minding at all. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go with him, but the time apart would give her some space to think. Danny shrugged. That had been exactly what he was going to say.
“Alright then…” Harrias continued, getting back to business. “Girls?” He suggested, pairing up Lex, Lucy and Hannah with his eyes. The civilian nodded instantly, and Lex remembered her comment about only having been to Earth once before.
“Can we take the Metro?” Lex jumped in suddenly. The trans-Atlantic metro was always something worth seeing. She thought Lucy would like that.
Harrias and Steve considered for a minute. “Yes, that would be good, it takes at least half a day to cross the ocean in the tube…that’d be good.” Lex couldn’t help grinning as she got their communicator: she loved the underwater tube.
“I guess that just leaves us boys…” Steve stated, looking at the other three men in the vicinity.
“We’re on a jolly to France, picking up as much intoxicating liquor on the way as possible?” David suggested. It was finally agreed upon, with the last two communicators remained with the boys, who would be taking the transporter in pairs over the next couple of days.
A look of contemplation spread across Harrias's face, and then he spoke again. "No, no, I think we should split up like this. Hannah, you will go with Frek and Melain. No complaining Mr Thelev, I need someone to keep your group focused. You are group one and you will take a shuttle. Lex, you will go with David and Lucy. You're group two and you will be on the Metro. Steve, Danny and I will travel together. We're group 3."
“I guess that’s settled then.” Harrias concluded. “I suggest we spend the remainder of the night here…again..” he said with a little shiver in his voice, “and split up come morning.”
Lex slept less than peacefully, as Danny was using her as a cushion. She didn’t really mind, she had been used to it in her youth, but tonight she was tired, and wouldn’t have minded a cushion of her own. As a tiny speckle of light crept in through the crack under the door Lex finally dropped off to sleep, only to be shaken awoke moments later by Hannah and Lucy.
“Time to go” Hannah said sleepily. Lex grunted. She liked the tube very much, but she liked sleep more. Together the other two girls coaxed her to her feet. Everyone else was still sleeping, except for Steve, who was monitoring the groups as they left. Lex wondered why she had to be in the first group. She was sure they could have gone in the afternoon. But the order had been decided for them. The three girls first, taking the metro. Then two of the boys would follow up in the afternoon. Same thing again the next morning, Frek and Lorre taking a shuttle while the boys used a transport point.
With the other two practically out the door already, Lex bent down and lightly kissed Danny on the forehead, trying to avoid catching Steve’s eye as she came up. She was glad she had never been the clingy type. It was much easier to do things like this when you were more distant.
They set off back into the town, and boarded the regular metro to get them to the travel office. David went inside to sort out the details and funds for their trip, while Lex and Lucy waited outside.
“So this, metro, we’re going on. Is it the same as that one?” Lucy asked, pointing at the disappearing car they had recently stepped off. Lex, who had been thinking about Danny and Steve again, blinked a few times.
“Oh yeah, just like that…” She replied quietly. Lucy didn’t look convinced.
“Well…except that its in a massive enclosed tube…and travels under the sea to Europe…” Lex added once Lucy’s question had finally sunk in. The girl’s face became a mixture of excitement and worry. The science officer smiled.
“You’ll like it, its fun. And its not all under the sea...it starts on land, cos we're actually facing the wrong way...”
Thankfully David reappeared at that moment, brandishing small chips which Lex supposed were their passes and also thrust some cards at her.
“A list of possible places to stay once we get there.” David explained. “Thought it might give us something to look at on the journey.”
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davidramsey
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by davidramsey on Jan 20, 2007 6:53:20 GMT
David sat in his corner, mindlessly playing with his flip communicator and waiting for his partner in crime to return to consciousness. He had slept for roughly three hours and the rather persistent pain in his leg had managed to keep him awake better than any coffee he'd ever had the pleasure of tasting. He flicked the communicator open and smiled at the clickity click it made then closing it with exaggerated care before flicking it open again and snickering.
"Please, for the love of all things extraterrestrial, Stop That!"
David froze mid clickety.
"Sorry, sir," David said gruffly putting the communicator in his pocket with what could have been called a "guilty" expression on his face.
The commodore's face appeared out of the gloom with an expression bordering on homicidal exhaustion.
"Thank you, lieutenant," the trill replied as he pulled himself up onto his feet, "Are you going to have issues traveling? With that leg?"
"I doubt it, sir," David replied, "The good doctor managed to ... er ... 'forget' some pain meds in my jacket pocket. I doubt she'll miss them ... much ... "
"Stealing from your crewmates, Mr. Ramsey?" Harrias asked plainly.
"No, sir! I would never steal from my crewmates, sir!" David answered sharply and then after a short pause, "Borrowing ... yes, I believe borrowing is the technical term for it, sir."
Harrias made a sound that could have been a laugh, but sounded a fair bit like a snort.
"So ... Paris ... sounds like fun ... " David mused as he limped off on his own, wincing occasionally, "I've got family in Paris, strangely enough. My uncle works as a museum curator there ... not sure which museum ... not really that close to that particular uncle, but my mother is always talking about visiting him."
David suddenly realized he wasn't talking to anyone but himself. He shrugged and wondered just how many days without a full nights rest it was going to take to bring out the real psychosis in him.
Although well written and fun to read, the groups for this section of the mission were alterd after it was posted and therefore it is no longer accurate. Kudos for such an excellent post though! (Melain)
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fthelev
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by fthelev on Jan 22, 2007 19:33:48 GMT
For those unfortunate enough to have experienced the particular delights of shuttle ports know that you are more likely to have a good time sharing some chickens with a voodoo priestess in the city morgue. The shuttle port was located on a convenient distance from one of Earth’s largest space ports, allowing travellers from all over the quadrant ‘easy’ transfer to their desired location on this little blue planet. One look at the crowded departure hall and the travellers from all over the quadrant and Frek was quite sure he would rather be a toothpaste salesman advertising his goods after sundown at a vampire’s lair. Though air-conditioning and air-refreshing were working at top speed, you could still easily smell the melange of several species’ peculiar musk, hygiene that leaves much to be desired about and the sweat from parents running after their over-active children in search of more sugar.
One of them bumped into him, hitting him in the same spot Melain’s elbow penetrated his side a day earlier. Frek shot her a sour look at the thought. He was quite sure that must have caused some critical damage to some internal organs at the very least in caused a bit of a bruise, though Melain insisted it was hardly there. Well, so far for that oath named after that ancient Earth guy. What was it again, that bit about not hurting other people?
“Come on,” she urged and looked up to him as she pulled his sleeve. One glance in those clear blue eyes and it was impossible to think anything but nice things about her. Almost immediately he forgot about his earlier hardships. She tucked at his sleeve again and directed them towards a queue halfway down the hall. At this moment he would follow her anywhere. Well, apart from a salad-bar perhaps. Or a gym.
Hannah Stevenson already standing in line waved as she spotted her two shipmates approaching. It seemed she had hardly moved since they had left for a sandwich. “What took you so long?” It would be a downright lie to say she sounded or looked pleased, and that despite the rather mouth-watering looking sandwich they brought her. “No thanks,” she said sourly as Frek offered it to her. “I lost my appetite.”
You didn’t need to be a telepathic counsellor to see why, even an over-aged cross-eyed parrot with a severe case of cataract would be able to determine the reason. A small kid, with what looked like a severe case of dwarfism, tried to climb up her leg. Not totally unlike a monkey climbing a palm reaching for the banana at the top. He got about as far as her knee when she shook him off, the kid landing on the floor. The mother of the being in question picked up her offspring, giving Hannah a furious look that seemed to say ‘how dare you touch my annoying progeny’. Although without the annoying part.
Standing close behind her was a large and even for their species’ standards very hairy Tellarite. He was wearing a white suite of unknown design that showed big yellowish sweat stains on places you really don’t want a Tellarite to perspire. He was holding a medium sized briefcase in matching colours. Matching the stains, not the suit. ‘Shampoo Samples’ That’s what it said on the side. Perhaps he sold it. One look at his copiously available hair and you could quite easily deduct he either wasn’t a big fan of his own product, or that the product was of dubious quality. Either way, it could do with a cleaning.
His deep set eyes locked-on to the sandwich in Frek’s hand. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled amidst a series of huffs and puffs. “I’ll take it.” Frek gave the object in his hand sad look. There was no way he could eat it now. Sure, he could have told the Tellarite he couldn’t have it, but did he really want to now? Perspiration wasn’t only bodily fluid problem he had. He talked with some consumption, and in this case ‘some’ meant he could do a fairly good imitation of a sprinkler system, showering the object he was looking at. Which at that moment was Frek’s hand and in it the item of the Tellarit’s affection.
Emerging from the restroom Frek joined his two female companions standing in quiet corner at a respectable distance from anything minor or Tellarite. Outside their transport across the Atlantic was already waiting, it would only be a matter of minutes now before boarding started. “Flight time is ninety minutes,” Hannah stated somewhat dreamily, staring out of the windows. “You got disinfected?” Frek nodded. “Yeah.”
She was right. Sub-orbital and orbital flight was possibly the fastest method of moving around on a planet, not taking in account transporters. They would be the first to arrive. The fake identity cards held up quite well, although it has to be said they were hardly looked at, if at all. It would give them the chance to arrange for accommodation for the group, and perhaps they a first look at matters at hand. With a little look they might be able to locate Glet, or Smith who no doubt would find his way to the city in the coming days.
Around eleven that evening, Jira had said, for those who made it to the city holding the Federation President’s office they would meet on the Place de La Concorde. It would be central, easy to find and in a city that never sleeps, crowded with tourists, locals and for all they knew, murderers.
[26758/145185/2]
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2007 4:53:17 GMT
Melain was getting rather tired of standing. Why was it that in a crowded shuttle port people became selfish and placed the needs of their baggage above their fellow passengers. She glared at a women who was taking up two chairs with her luggage in addition to her own. The women was oblivious.
=W= “Shuttle 292 leaving for Paris France, now boards rows 9 through 12”=W=
Melain looked down eagerly at her ticket, Row 2, she sighed and rested more of her weight on Frek, who stumbled. “Oh, sorry hon” Melain gushed, righting herself in an instant, Frek took slightly longer. She glanced over at Hannah, who was pretending not to have noticed and staring out the window. She had not spoken to the First Officer for awhile, but ever since the events in the O’Ryan system conversation with the human women had been subdued.
“Do you think we will ever get a ship again?” Hannah asked airily, it seemed to Melain that this had been on the women’s mind a fair bit recently. As for herself, she had other things to occupy her thoughts.
“I... I haven’t given it much thought.” Melain replied honestly. “I don’t think StarFleet command takes kindly on crews who lose their ship. Besides, based on the response we got during our hearings, we will be lucky if we are not piloting orbital shuttles, shuffling paper work and....” Melain paused, there was a great deal of places she could be placed and feel punished. “I don’t care where they put us, as long as we are together.” she clasped Frek’s hand tightly and ignored the grimace that flew across Hannah’s face. Melain realised she had been saying a lot of.... gag-worthy things recently, but if that was how she felt, then why not be honest?
=W= “Shuttle 292 leaving for Paris France, now boards rows 1 through 4”=W=
“Whatever happened to rows 5 through 8?” Frek wondered aloud.
“Who cares, let’s go get our seats.” Melain urged, as the line they where standing in surged forward.
They found their seats with little difficulty There was a short debate on who should get the window view, which was solved when a look at their tickets showed them sitting in order “Frek, Hannah, Melain. Hannah was willing to switch with Frek, giving her the window and him the seat beside Melain. Across the aisle the women with the small child who had been treating Hannah like a playground was finding her seat, beside her the rude women with all the luggage. Melain could not help but feel there was a little bit of karma based justice going on.
Once all the passengers were seated the flight assistance, (formerly called stewardesses until a brief revolt in the name of political correctness changed many things) ran through the safety drill. Melain listened half interested, before realising everything they where says was common sense anyway. Frek was already fidgeting in his seat trying to get comfortable, Hannah had her forehead rested against the window. The shuttle began to take off. Frek halted his fidgeting long enough to make a somewhat bitter comment about the pilot’s skills, and Melain was half tempted to propose he take the controls when the attendant came taking meal orders. Melain had not even looked at the menu.
“What will you have dear?” The attendant asked, a rather forced smile on her face which Melain suspected was due to the fact she had just dealt with Mommy Dearest and the luggage queen.
“Ummm... The number one looked good.” Melain replied, not really knowing what the number one was and dearly hoping it was not gagh.
“Certainly, and you sir?” The attendant replied, her attention now directed at Frek.
Melain tuned out the rest of the ordering to focus on the view screen that had been installed in the seat back in front of her. It was a news report, and interview with the new President that was being replayed. It was dated the day after the election.
President Zahara was a middle aged Zakdorn women who had taken care to look professional and dignified in all settings. She spoke carefully and clearly, not entirely unlike speaking with a small child. Melain found this rather annoying, of course she found political figures using elevated language for no reason apart from sounding intelligent also very annoying. By the sounds of it the new President was progressive, she had made a lot of promises and did not sound as though breaking any of them was on her agenda. Melain could see why such a person could invite the wrath of a long standing organisation, but of course any politician could do that.
As Melain watched the interview she noticed Zahara continually rubbing her neck, it was obviously an unconscious action, perhaps betraying how nervous and under pressure the new president was. It did not inspire confidence.
(115672/24533)
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fthelev
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Post by fthelev on Jan 30, 2007 23:58:55 GMT
It was amazing. Even after four-hundred years food on planetary flights still tasted like processed plastics. The fact that by now they came out of a simple replicator instead out of a simple microwave didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Why would they hand out stuff like this on these short flights anyway? He took another bite and shoved the tray away. He could get a croissant or some other form of other French bread once they arrived. Besides, it had been less than an hour since he consumed the sandwich on the shuttle port. “What do you think?” Hannah asked with a nod to the screen in front of them. Like Melain and Frek she had been watching the interview. Frek sniffed. “As a president or possible target?” he asked. “She looks a bit nervous and fidgety; you think she knows something is going to happen?” “No.” Melain shook her head. “She’s plausible enough as a target, but so are so many other. If she is the one they are after I doubt she’ll know about it. The Shadow Conglomerate doesn’t seem like the kind of organization that lets such information leak.” “Unless they want to,” Hannah added. “To get people on the wrong trail?”
She had a point there, but on the other hand, would an organization like that really risk exposure by trying to get people on the wrong track? They did try to confuse them, but that was more likely to get them into a position to get rid of them. Long term.
The three Starfleet officers clad in casual disembarked the shuttle after it touched down on the appropriate landing pad. So here they finally were. Paris. The city with its enigmatic and old Eiffel tower. Its picturesque Montmartre and all the small alleys with small restaurants hidden behind the busy avenues that ran through the city. People say it is the city of love and romance, and with all its qualities perhaps they are right. The ‘City of Light’ they say. Well, in the coming three days someone was definitely going to try to put some of those lights out, and with a little luck theirs wasn’t one of them.
The coming few days this was also going be the city of dark intrigues, and murder conspiracies. If they could only find out who and why, perhaps they would be able to stop it. To be reasonable the trail they had was unreasonably frail. A lot had to be uncovered and they had so little time. About two and a half day left by now. Would that be enough?
As much as Frek loved to have a candlelit dinner in some small restaurant located at some quiet courtyard with Melain, it didn’t seem a distinct possibility. Unless of course the Conglomerate decided to invite them for a meal there, pick up the bill and leave as long-time friends. No, with them supper was most likely to be spiced with some sort of exotic poison and to be sure the night would probably end in an involuntary dive of the Arc de Triomphe.
It didn’t take them long to find the hotel Jira had booked for them from San Francisco. It was positioned centrally and close to the Place de la Concorde where they were bound to meet later that day. The hotel looked like an expensive place and it probably was. It would make quite some impact on their available credits when they checked out. But think of it, did it actually matter? If they didn’t succeed they would be either dead, and dead people are quite incapable of paying bills when they check out most of the time, or they would find themselves in a nice Federation prison. In that case they would probably be charged with such a wide array of felonies that an additional one of being a defaulter wouldn’t make much of a difference.
“The plan,” Hannah said repeating what she had discussed with Jira, “is simple.” She straightened up and took in her surroundings. “We do a preliminary survey of the possible locations of the assassination. That’s the Chamber of Federation Representatives and Versailles.” “We should quite easily be able to access both sites posing as tourists,” Frek said looking after a group of Betazoid of the very profession he was talking about.
What was it with those Betazoids anyway? You seem to find them at every sight worth seeing within the Federation always in groups chatting excitingly waving and taking pictures with their home-grown holo-cameras. “We should get one of those,” Melain pointed out, “We would fit in perfectly and can make pictures of everything without looking suspicious.”
She was right they could gather more detailed information and review it later. Perhaps they could even discover some weak spots in the security of both places. Something the Conglomerate might take advantage off, though it was more likely they were too well prepared and influential enough not to have to rely on that sort of thing. But it still was something they could use for their own gain.
The holo-camera was purchased easily enough, and with the Paris city plan loaded in a PADD they made their way to the Chamber of Federation Representatives. It wasn’t far from where they were standing. A kilometre and half to the south-east, past the Louvre. They would have to cross the river Seine at the Pont Neuf, passing the Notre Dame. From there on it would be straight ahead for another kilometre and a half. Even without a map it would be easy to find. There were road signs everywhere and if you can’t read just follow the crowds of Betazoid tourists snapping away happily at everything they thought was even remotely interesting. Not to mention the fact the building was clearly visible reaching over the old roofs helped as well.
“This is it,” Frek said. He looked up to the tall building. It was old, perhaps two-hundred years, but that would still make it a lot younger than some of the surrounding buildings. “Como on,” he told Hannah, “You take a picture of us.” Frek grabbed Melain and posed before the famous entrance, standing behind her with his hands around her waist, resting with his cheek against the side of her head. “Is that really necessary?” Hannah sighed a bit annoyed. “We do have…” “…have a cover to hold up,” Frek quickly intervened, “It’ll only take a second.”
[27837/146264/3]
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loki
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by loki on Feb 2, 2007 22:51:58 GMT
The leaflet for ‘Le Pritania Republique’ was becoming more and more dog-eared as Lex played it around in her fingers. She had read through the three-sided spread innumerable times, stalling at the slight translational faux pas on page one that stated they served polo-mints on the lunchtime menu. The other accommodation adds were far less interesting, and she had quickly passed them over to David and chosen this one to fiddle with. For a moment or two, back in the comfort of the crypt, she had been excited about a trip on the underwater metro, after all, it was always a fascinating journey, but what they could be looking forward to on the other end made her less enthusiastic than usual.
“Finally.” David grunted, heaving himself up from the bench as their carriage rolled in. They had spent almost twenty minutes sitting on the dingy interim platform having travelled across land to Philadelphia, awaiting the car that would finally take them into the water off the east coast of the city.
David lead the way into the carriage, practically shoving other people out of the way as he headed for a group of empty seats near the back. Lucy was wearing a similar expression to the other two, having found their high-speed, trans-state crossing less than enthralling. Lex wished she had known more about where they were going, but most of the time even she had to read the information scrolling across the screen to find out where they were. She felt a little guilty for not being able to give Lucy the guided tour, but being in the business that she was, she had spent most of her teenage years either haunting some science lab with Danny, or hooliganising the streets of San Francisco with...well…Danny.
“Ooh…” Lucy cooed as the metro car dropped into the tube that fed it several score feet beneath the ocean. Tense as their situation was, Lex just couldn’t help herself once they were actually under the sea. She was very quickly leaning across the back of the seat, pressing her hands against the holographic window and staring as closely as the forcefield as she could.
Of course, there wasn’t really all that much to see; the further down they went, the darker their surroundings became. But still, watching the water slide by seemed the most productive way to pass the time.
The tube was fast, but not as fast as a shuttle. Luckily, they didn’t have to change again, the line they were on lead right into the centre of Paris. Lex found this rather invaluable, as she had never actually been to France in her life at all. She was doing better than Lucy, at least she had been born on this planet, but other than that, they all seemed to be pretty much in the same boat with regards to French etiquette. They clambered off onto the platform and ventured out into the city.
“Ok, so where now?” David asked, looking around the street of fast-moving people. Lex shrugged, while getting bumped into by several rushed Frenchmen going about their lunchtime business.
“Maybe we should ask somebody for directions to the hotel?” Lucy suggested, already getting into a little window shopping on the busy street.
“Yeah, good idea.” David agreed, and they both started at Lex.
The science officer halted and raised her eyebrows innocently. “What?” she stammered, feeling self-conscious.
David gave her the ‘isnt-it-obvious’ face. “Well, you’re the linguist. Ask someone.”
“I don’t speak French.” Lex replied plainly. David looked as though she had just made some horrific revelation.
“You’re a linguist, and you don’t speak French?” He asked, astounded.
“No, I don’t speak French…” Lex rounded on him pointedly. “I do however know how to speak Russian, Romanian, Aramaic, Hebrew, Arabic, Akkadian, Sumerian and some Polynesian, Ancient Egyptian, of course, Vulcan, Gylych, Ilseyian, Acamarian, Xenexian and can pronounce some of the ancient script language of the Cordonians.”
“Codonains? Never heard of them.” David stated.
“You wouldn’t have. They’re way ancient.” Lex retorted after she had caught her breath.
“Sorry to interrupt…” Lucy said ensuing the slightest hint of sarcasm, “But I think its this way.” And without another word set off up the street taking in the landmarks as she went past. David and Lex jogged to catch up, and caught sight of the map on the back of one of the leaflets. Now why didn’t I think of that? Lex wondered numbly, following in Lucy’s footsteps. They walked several blocks according to the map, and the shops died away with surprising speed. That left hotels. Lots and lots of hotel. The trio stared down the long line of high-rise French public abodes.
“I guess now would be the time where we find a dark alley and dig out that communicator?” David suggested.
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Deleted
Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:54 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2007 1:56:13 GMT
The camera flashed and Melain gave Frek a quick peck on the cheek before stepping away from the entrance. “Appearances Commander.” she smiled as an annoyed look flashed across Hannah’s face. “This is a beautiful city isn’t it. I can really see why the Federation has made it’s home here. It’s so odd to hear another language, I guess I just got used to the universal translators.” She had switched into Federation standard easily once her comm badge was removed. Melain usually spoke Bajoran on the Nevada, but being raised on Earth made her fluent in both. Thankfully the rest of the crew also spoke Standard, Melain was not sure what she would do if Frek started spouting Andorian at her.
“Yeah, Melain why don’t you take a few pictures, I am going to scout around for a bit.” Hannah decided, most likely with the idea to give the two aliens some time alone. She held out the camera as a large crowd of Betazoid tourists surged past without regard to the smaller group.
Betazoids made Melain a little nervous. Normally she did not mind the telepaths, but they were trying to hide something and could not afford to be found out. Melain felt herself pushed into Frek, to busy trying to clear her mind to pay any attention to what else was going on. Hannah’s cry broke her concentration.
“Hey! Hey! Thief Thief!” Hannah hollered. “crocheteur!” she tried again in French. A few tourists turned to look, grasping their belongings protectively. A solitary figure broke from the Betazoid group and ducked into a street. “He’s got the camera!”
Without a second though Melain broke into a run, with Hannah on her heals and Frek keeping a decent pace behind. They veered into the street and wound their way through the throngs of people. The thief had a rather bright yellow jacket on that made him somewhat easy to keep track of. He was not a large man, human from what Melain could tell, with tawny coloured wavy hair. The thief looked back, eyes wide in surprise that his victim’s were catching up, and then ducked into an alley.
“I’m going around!” Hannah panted, cutting off and heading into a nearby shop. Melain assumed the First Officer was hoping for a back door. She closed in on the alley and entered into the dark.
They where in luck, the alley as closed at one end by a parked vehicle, the thief was cornered, but no where to be seen. “Look, I know you are in here!” Melain yelled. “I am not going to hurt you or turn you in I just want back what is mine.”
There was no response. Melain felt Frek arrive beside her, and place a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Don’t do something stupid love, it’s just a camera, we can get another one.”
He was right, Melain had to admit that. It was not like the man had stolen their IDs. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.” She took a deep breath, not ready to break off the hunt. She was never one to get very aggressive, none of this was like her. It could be the stress, yes that was it.
Melain started at the sound of a cough behind them. “My my my, for Star Fleet Officers you are a gullible pair.” She turned slowly and saw the thief step into view. How he had hidden himself she could not imagine, but whoever he was, he was much more then a petty criminal. He held a phaser lose in one hand.
“What?” Melain asked, feigning ignorance. “I think you have the wrong people. Look please just let us go.” she hung on to Frek’s arm and let her eyes go wide with not completly fake fear.
“Ha! Look Doctor, I don’t get the wrong people.” He raised the phaser and sneered. Melain now had a better view of him and to her horror saw that he was not human, but a Bajoran. “Now, I get to decide if I am just going to shoot you, or if I am going to play with you first.”
“Such cold blooded murder will deny you a place in the celestial temple.” She warned.
“Don’t lecture me about The Prophets, you have not been to a temple in ages! Look at you clinging to that Andorian, where is your faith?” The man barked. Melain realised she had hit a nerve, perhaps she could use this to her advantage.
“You, you don’t even wear an earring? You worship the Pagh Wraith’s don’t you? No true believer would hold a phaser to another!”
“Your father killed others in the resistance, and your mother too. Oh yes, she was not simply a nurse. I know more about you then you could possibly imagine. You have killed, don’t deny it. What makes your lives any different to me then an enemy on the field of battle or a siege on a Cardassian compound?” The thief countered, Melain noticed the grip on his phaser loosen.
“Neither of us is armed. This is murder, I have only killed in defines.” Melain replied, she spotted a movement behind him, it was Hannah. Thankfully she had not found a back door.
“What is your caste.” Melain asked, trying to keep the Bajorans mind off his phaser and allow Hannah to move into position. The human women moved with a grace Melain had not seen in her before. His eyes moved upward and to the left in thought, an opportunity Melain used to shift herself and Frek over and out of his aim. When Hannah struck Melain would throw herself from Frek, letting her own momentum push him out of danger.
“The caste system was dropped aged ago, I..” Hannah struck him across the head with her fist, and he dropped. His finger tightened on the trigger letting out a stream of fire that hit the nearby wall and streaked across the ground were Melain had fallen. Melain felt a hard force to her lower back which shoved her inches to the left, and the phaser fire cut across where her hand had been only moments ago. The phaser dropped from the Bajoran man’s hand and the alley grew silent.
Melain let herself lay on the ground for awhile, eyes closed, trying to calm down. Her pulse was racing, her back sore and her clothes filthy from landing on the wet muddy ground. She could Hear Hannah talking, something about keeping the phaser and checking the man’s ID.
“It won’t be real, he’s from the Conglomerate,” Frek’s voice broke in. “I’ll bet he’s been tracking us ever since we... Melain!?” Moments later Melain felt his hand under her shoulders lifting her up. “I didn’t hit you too hard did I?”
Melain opened her eye slowly. “A bruise, just a bruise. I was enjoying the feel of Parisian mud seeping through my new sweater. That was close, these guys mean business.” She sat up on her own. “What have we got ourselves into?”
“More then an assassination by the looks of things. Let’s get moving, the police will be here soon and even if all that was in self defence that is one hassle we don’t need.” Hannah explained.
“What do we do with him?” Melain asked, gesturing to the stunned form of the hit man.
“Leave him, The hit I gave him will do it’s job for awhile. If we are lucky he will be too stunned when he wakes up to know who he is, let alone chase us down again.” Hannah replied.
Melain glanced at her chronometer. “We should get going, we have more places to scout and only an hour before we meet the others.”
(116962/25823)
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lucykanz
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by lucykanz on Feb 8, 2007 20:17:57 GMT
The prospect of travelling to Paris was very exciting. Another part of Earth to tick off on her "Places to vist" list. The list was actually getting longer rather than shorter, as people kept recommending places to go. She had no idea how she was going to ever get to visit any of these places. Especially if Starfleet security kept her under surveillence on earth.
The tube underwater was unlike anything she'd experienced before. If she'd managed to miss out on adventures like this in the last 18 years then she really did need to see more of the universe.
She had sort of hoped that splitting into a smaller group would allow her to get to know her travelling companions a little better. After all, any friend on the planet would be a good one. But the little conversation that there was seemed to be mostly focussed on the task at hand. Lucy decided, after thinking about it, that this was probably for the best given the circumstances.
It was strange when they started walking through the streets of Paris. Like a completely different place yet with definite similarities. She was sure that the more places she visited the more normal things like this would seem, but spending the first 15 years of her life on one planet would stay with her for at least a while longer.
With the help of the maps they managed to find their way round the city fairly easily. Now the only question was whether the others would have things go that well.
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joshreo
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by joshreo on Feb 9, 2007 16:30:51 GMT
The flight from New York had been uneventful. As the shuttle landed in Paris, Josh stepped out into the early morning sun. He quickly scanned the area around the landing pad. Seeing that all seemed to be in order, he turned to face back into the shuttle. He nodded and stepped out of the doorway. A few seconds later, a tall, slender blonde stepped out onto the landing pad.
Josh lead the way to the terminal. They were followed by some of the best security officers that Starfleet had to offer. He had been proud to be chosen to be the lead officer of the personnel designated to protect the UFP President. Except for the fact that there were some fugitives in the area, this was going to be a breeze.
They arrived on a Monday, but the President’s speech wasn’t until Friday. She wanted to make a couple public appearances before then. All week long was uneventful. A couple of times, Josh thought that he recognized a couple of faces, they faces he thought he saw were those of the senior staff of the recently destroyed Nevada, but he wasn’t sure. He knew that those officers were probably in disguised.
The day before her first official speech as President, Ms. Zahara wanted to go see the Notre Dom cathedral. While there, Josh was keeping an eye out as usual. He saw one of the faces that he thought he recognized as Lt. Commander Ramsey.
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davidramsey
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by davidramsey on Feb 11, 2007 5:07:55 GMT
David looked from the linguist to the hacker and sniggered.
"*Vous êtes un linguiste qui ne parle pas français ? Quelle parodie!" he exclaimed, "**Laissez-moi faire parler, amours."
A few hours later ... in their hotel room
After a bit of rest, David was surprised to find himself feeling much better than he had in several days. The girls were both still asleep, so David decided to see what he could find out about the President's plans. It was likely that she would have several public appearances, all of which were a potential point at which some jerk with a phaser could make headlines. He logged onto the local mainframe and did a general search. Sure enough, the president was expected to view 'Ze Cathedral de Notre Dame at '***quatorze cent heures'.
He heard a few covers rustle and suddenly Lex materialized over his shoulder. He turned toward her and sighed.
"What do you think? We could scope out her security," he asked with a shrug, "Chances are they are going to be incognito during the speech we should get a good look at them before hand. At least, that would be my first consideration. Lorre said we should follow up on her security detail and report back, right?"
<Tag Alex>
"Right, so ... we're going ... wake Lucy?"
"You get to do it."
"Awww ... "
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Five hours later outside the Cathedral
David craned his neck as he glared around the corner at the entrance of the massive church. Several uniformed security officers were posted around the entrance and the marked presidential conveyance was just barely noticable on the side street.
"Ok, so ... do we press our luck and go inside?" David asked Lex, who strangely enough, just happened to be hanging over him like the blade of a guillotine.
"Well, I don't see how we're gonna get a good look at the security detail if we don't," she replied, "We'll go in as singles ... me first, then Lucy, and then you."
"Why do I have to go last?"
"'Cause you're the guy ... and Lucy may not go at all if she's left here alone ... "
"Hey! I resent that!"
"Sorry, Luce."
*You're a linguist that doesn't speak French? What a travesty! **Leave it to me, loves. ***Fourteen hundred hours.
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fthelev
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by fthelev on Feb 12, 2007 22:32:25 GMT
The chase had not taken very long, a few minutes at most. It was not quite possible to say what distance they crossed in that short run, but it couldn’t have been much. The more surprising it was to see how the surroundings could change so quickly. From the streets lined with baroque and renaissance styled buildings packed with tourist and locals alike to a shabby alley as the one they found themselves in now. It was hardly likely they covered more than a few hundreds metres at most. Looking back on it now, Frek even claimed you could hear the masses’ buzz in the nearby more popular streets. But here you would see no tourists, only those unfortunate enough to be lured here by a Shadow Conglomerate operative, if that was what he was.
Hannah Stevenson, the shipless first officer, knelt down besides the Bajoran character, clearly belonging to the nasty kind, and quickly went through his pockets. She turned her hand palms to the sky and shook her head. “Nothing?” Frek asked confirming the gesture. He was still holding Melain by her arm, almost as if he was afraid she would fall down again if he let go. He could feel her tremble slightly under his touch. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the thrill of the chase, the fact she has been nearly shot or a combination of both or something completely different.
Hannah got back on her feet and held up the camera and the phaser she had taken from the not-so-nice killer. “Apart from this nothing on him,” she informed her companions, “No ID, nothing.” “So he won’t be much of a lead to go on,” Frek muttered and held out his hand to the phaser. “Can I see that?”
He inspected the particle weapon, it was of simple design, non-Federation by the looks of it, or at least that was what he thought. Frek was no expert on the matter, but it was clearly not a Starfleet weapon and looked unfamiliar in its design. It had a trigger and a small display with two buttons that allowed changing the settings. Its current one purposely set with intent to kill and make three very dead Starfleet officers out of them. He reset the weapon to heavy stun. Clearly the Bajoran hadn’t been out to give them a good tickling and really, that just can’t be good to encourage tourism as well. Dead bodies floating down the Seine simply don’t go very well with tourists. Not counting the Klingon ones. Or Betazoids, they would probably collectively snap away with those holo-cams of theirs. They say some people look quite adorable when they are asleep. Frek nodded towards the unconscious Bajoran hitman. A little trail of yellowish or beige drool trailed down the corner of his mouth finding its way past his chin before gathering in a little pool on the pavement. It made that particular muddy patch of French soil even muddier. “You think we can get anything out of him?” Frek asked staring at the figure lying in the mud. Melain shook her head. “I very much doubt that,” she said with a resolute voice, “From what we have seen the Conglomerate doesn’t employ people who talk easily. And even if he did, it would take more time than we have.” She looked around slightly nervous. “Besides we need to go.” “I agree,” Hannah agreed. The insentient murderer groaned as if he concurred as well.
The two women and Frek froze, staring at the man lying in the dirt. He stirred slightly and emitted another sound that could be taken as a sign of return to life. “I thought you said he would be out for hours?” Frek wondered with a raised brow. Hannah scratched the back of her head. “He ought to be,” she said slightly dismayed, “I mean, I did gave him quite a pow on his coconut.” The object of their attention groaned again with something that resembled a gurgling sound. With the stream running out the corner of his mouth that was hardly surprising. Really, it would make a fully grown glacier in spring jealous, and just like one it seemed to take down everything in its path. A drowsy eye opened and peered into the world as he struggled to get up. He made it about half way.
“Frek?” “Hmm?” “The phaser…” “Oh.” The first thing he noticed when he fired the phaser was something he had missed during the short high paced events when the other guy fired it while being knocked out by Hannah. With a thumb the Bajoran man slumped back down again, hitting the ground for the second time. The beam had hit him square on the chest, and with the weapon set on heavy stun, this time, he would be out for a while. Normally this would go accompanied by a somewhat high-pitched sound, and perhaps occasionally submitted by the person getting shot, though it was normally made by the phaser itself. This one seemed to make hardly more then a soft whistle.
“Come on!” Melain urged, “We need to get out of here before we are seen with him.” She gestured at the slumped body. It was a valid point, with most law enforcement officers this would require some explanation, and the one they had was unlikely to be believed. Not until the newly installed president would be killed anyway, and that was what they were trying to prevent. With big steps they hurried away from the alley towards the relative safety of the crowds swarming the streets. In one last act to try to reduce the chance the Bajoran man being found, Hannah quickly had removed his bright yellow jacket and had thrown it over a fence out of sight. As Frek remarked it stood out like a Ferengi canary in a cage of Alvarian crows. It didn’t take long before the buzzing noise of the people on the streets became clearly audible and soon they found themselves surrounded by the wide variety of beings you would find on Earth and in cities like Paris.
“You think he took that camera to lure us into a trap?” Melain asked as the walked along. It was almost time to meet up with the rest of their comrades. Hannah shrugged. “Perhaps, but how would he now we would follow him into that alley,” she argued, “We might have given up the chase or lost him in the crowd.” “Lost him?” Frek grinned, “With that jacket on?” Even a cross-eyed Vorta would have managed, and they are known for bad eyesight. He scraped his throat. “I think he was following us from the moment we arrived,” he mused, “They might be better informed than we think, and why did he take the camera after we took a picture with it?”
They walked along in silence for a while, making their way back to the Place de la Concorde. This time taking a different route, choosing to follow the Boulevard Saint-Germain and crossing the river at the Chispitas. Had they walked back the same way they came, taking Pont Neuf within half a kilometre of the Notre Dame they might have ran into Ramsey, Loki and Lucy, but as it was they didn’t.
Melain tapped on the holo-camera carried by Hannah. “You think we snapped a shot of something they don’t want us to see?” she asked. “We only took one picture,” Hannah admitted, “but it could be.” “It’s worth checking,” Frek pointed out, “It’ll only take a minute.” They walked of the bridge at the north side of the river. The square was lying straight in front of them, as if it had been waiting for them to arrive all along. It was slightly over eleven in the evening, if everything went as planned Jira, Steve and Danny should already be waiting for them, together with Ramsey, Loki and Lucy. “We’ll take a look together with the others,” Hannah decided, “I think I can already see Jira standing there.” She pointed in the global direction of the fountain on the north end of the square. She either had terrific eyesight or she was imagining things, Frek couldn’t distinguish anyone.
“Ah, there they are,” Frek said once they got a bit closer. Seems like Hannah was right after all. A few minutes later they joined the three men. “You’re late,” Jira greeted kind of surly. “We ran into some trouble,” Frek replied sourly.
In short and clear terms Melain started to explain what had happened to them. When she was done she looked around. “Where are Ramsey and the rest,” she asked slightly worried, not seeing them. Jira didn’t look too happy as well. “Perhaps they ran into similar distractions as yourselves,” he said. The commodore handed over the paper bag he was holding to Frek and reached out for the holo-camera. “Hold that, will you? Is that the camera? Let’s see what we got here.”
That was just about the same thought that went through Frek’s head as he peeked into the bag Jira had given to him. A fresh croissant. It looked lovely. Frek took in the smell as Jira tinkered with the camera to project a miniature version of the holographic picture taken. “Got it!” he said triumphantly. A crystal clear image of the entrance of the Federation Hall of Representatives was displayed hanging in the air, about ten centimetres above the camera. Frek said just about the same thing mentally as the croissant hovered about ten centimetres in front of his mouth. Jira frowned as he noticed Melain’s and Frek’s pose in front of the camera. “Can’t the two of you…” he started with sigh looking from the picture to the duo in question. Just like Jira Frek had started on something. The croissant. “Mr Thelev, I told you to hold it.” Jira clearly not in his most pleased state, “Not to eat it!” “Sowwy suw,” he tried with his mouth full. By the pressure provided by the bite the jam it had in between was forcefully ejected from the opposite side. A dollop of the sticky stuff landed on Jira’s shoe. Bright and red. “Eww, what’s that?” Melain wanted to know. Jira sighed. “Strawberry jam,” he told her and looked down to his shoe, “With whole chunks of strawberry.”
“Hey guys?” Steve tried to get the attention of his distracted friends, “What’s that?” He pointed at a corner of the three dimensional image. “Where?” Jira turned around sharply, back into focus. “There,” Steve pointed again, “Zoom in on that part.” Even for a cheapish piece of electronics the camera’s resolution was quite decent and it had not trouble bringing the requested part of the hologram to the foreground. The six men and women stood gathered around the device, staring at the enlarged area. “The security guard, I’ve seen that guy before,” Steve commented. “Me too,” Jira said thoughtfully, “In that clubhouse, he’s one of Smith’s men.” “Shift the image to the right a bit and rotate thirty degrees clockwise,” Frek asked. Jira complied and the image shifted as specified. Barely visible a blue figure became visible, mostly hidden behind a door post and some tourists. It was a female and a bald one. “Glet!” Danny, Hannah and Melain recognized simultaneously.
They were definitely on the right track here. Glet was here, talking, of all things, to a security guard belonging to a private firm, they positively identified as one of Smith’s people. It seemed like they found the lead they were so desperately looking for. “I didn’t know they used private security companies to deal with security on Federation governmental affairs,” Frek said with his antennas bobbing softly. Steve was the one to explain. “It’s not that uncommon,” he told them, “Especially on such large events it is often easier to use private companies to provide for the security details. Usually they always use the same, and they are heavily screened by the Starfleet Intelligence before being admitted.” He paused, long enough for Frek to comment. “So if Smith, or better said the Conglomerate is using one of those companies as a base for infiltration and survives intense screening, what the hell does the say about them?” There was a sense of helplessness creeping into him. Was there no limit to what these people could do? A smile played around Steve’s mouth, but it was absent in his eyes. “It means they are very good and have assets deeply rooted in seemingly every level of the Federation and Starfleet.” His tone was dead serious. “Right…” Jira thought for a second. “Right now our best option seems to be to track down the local office of that security firm and see what we can find there. If some of all operatives are part of the Shadow Conglomerate, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on them and identify as many of them as we can.”
The group stood silently together, trying to match that new piece of the puzzle. Clearly, this had to be about more than just assassinating a Federation president or some high-placed diplomat. Frek’s hand crept towards Melain’s and when he found it their eyes met. He could see his own sense of despair reflected in her eyes.
[30058/148485/1]
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joshreo
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by joshreo on Feb 13, 2007 14:54:40 GMT
The President wanted to go inside the Cathedral, so Josh sent most of his team in, to secure the inside. After they reported that it was clear, Josh lead the way inside. After they were in, Josh stationed himself near the front door.
People soon began to filter in, most of them wanted to meet the president. She didn't mind the attention, so Josh allowed it.
He thought that there might be at least one of the 'Nevada Fugitives,' as SF security were calling them, in the area. However, he never would have known for sure, until a female civilian call a male, 'David'.
Josh's head about snapped off as he looked in the direction that he heard the three voices, one a human male and the other two females, one human and the other Vulcan. He saw that he was the closest officer, so he went to the door, where two more security personnel were screening people coming in. He told one of them to follow him as he went to question the three.
They went over to ask them a few questions. As they approached, the three talked nervously among themselves. When Josh got next to them, Josh asked, "Excuse me. But would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"
The male tried to explain that he was a French Nationalist, but the officer that came with Josh wasn't convinced.
"Excuse me sir, but I recognize him as a prisoner that escaped in San Francisco. His name is David Ramsey. He looks a little different, but I was assigned to watch him and escort him everywhere. So I reccognize his voice and facial structure," the officer said.
OCC: Sorry David, I hope this works out better...
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davidramsey
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by davidramsey on Feb 15, 2007 14:19:46 GMT
"*C'est un outrage ! J'exige de parler avec un mandataire, vous n'avez aucun droit de me détenir !" David exclaimed as he was ushered into a room alone with a commander and a lieutenant commander that looked very much like they meant business.
He hoped against hope that Lucy and Lex had managed to get away. If not they may well try to play each of them against one another. David once more cursed his own bloody curiousity that had landed him in this predicament. Next time he would get right to the point and not ask the president stupid questions like, "So ... Ms. President ... who do you like to win the Parrises Squares Championship?"
He looked up at the commander as he was seated in the little room behind a little table with a light overhead. This looked like just about every interrogation room he'd ever been in except ... there were no cameras, there was no two way glass, there was just the table, the chair and the light. His stomach started to quiver when it dawned on him that just about anything could happen in this room and no one would be the wiser. It was at about that time he recognized the lieutenant commander. He'd seen that face, dimly lit outside the former intelligence officer's home when he'd discovered that he was being charged with murder. It was one of the Intelligence officers that had been hot on their trail only a few nights ago. There was a look on the man's face that said, quite plainly, that he was well aware of what could and could not happen in that room. David's face went pale as he looked up at the commander. Could he be in on it too?
*This is an outrage! I demand to speak with an attorney, you have no right to detain me!
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Deleted
Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:54 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Feb 16, 2007 22:05:55 GMT
Melain let her eyes break away from Frek’s, accepting that they had to deal with the issue at hand. ‘So, what do we do?” she asked, not expecting an immediate answer, they where in over their heads. Hell, they where so in over their heads that swimming to the surface would give them the bends.
There was an awkward silence that was broken when two harried looking figures joined them. It was Lex and Lucy, there eyes wide in concern. “They got David.” Lex explained rapidly. “Some body guard of the president recognised him. We managed to get away, but with that leg of his... he didn’t stand a chance.”
Multi language curses rained coursed through the group, and then they all grew silent. What would happen to Lieutenant Ramsey? From what they had seen from the Conglomerate so far... Melain shuddered. She had not known him for long, but he was a fine officer, a good man. “This has to end, now.” she whispered. “We need to act.” she added louder.
“The doctor is right, we’ve gone too far to turn back now.” Frek added his support. “Jira’s idea is a good one. That rent-a-cop place must have headquarters somewhere right? Let’s go find it, play some eavesdropping. That’s worked for us so far, why not again?”
“We are running out of time, we have less then a day and a half now.” Hannah cautioned.
“Maybe so, but we can’t stop what is happening if we don’t know what’s going on.” Melain insisted. ”We don’t even know who is pulling the trigger, when they pull the trigger or what the trigger even looks like.” She took a deep breath. “Come on, let’s go find a directory.”
The group moved with funeral dirge like energy toward an information centre. Occasionally looking back over their shoulder as if expecting some Shadow Conglomerate assassin to attack at any moment. This anxiety was not good for their mental health, but then again landing on the wrong side of an evil organisation was not good for the health either.
The security rental company had it’s main centre not far from the square, in fact it would be about a twenty minute walk. The night was beginning to descend, but the streets where no less crowded then they where during the day. The Betazoid tourists had out their camera’s away and settled in various cantinas where they watched the sunset. The Star Fleet officers and two hapless civilians headed from the Trocadero square North west in silence. Melain grasped Frek’s hands as if letting it go would cause them to drift apart. Jira had taken the lead with Hannah close at hand, they alternated backward glances at Melain and Frek. Lucy was tailing Hannah and Jira, with Lex and Danny nearly treading on Melain and Frek’s toes. Melain never glanced back, but she was relatively certain that the two archaeologists had locked fingers as well. Steve was taking the rear and seemed to be muttering quietly to himself.
It was a quiet journey, apart from Steve, each was lost in their own thoughts, pondering what was to come and what they had done to deserve being placed in such desperate circumstances. The streets grew darker and the roadside lamps lit up automatically. Laughter spilled out from open doorways followed by festive lights and distant music. It seemed like the entire city was relaxed and at peace, but for the small group of eight.
The building they where searching for appeared as they turned a final corner. It was a new building, although Melain suspected that the security company was not its first tenants. It had the look of a bank more then anything else and the sign marking it as “Anderson Security Force lmt.” was even newer then the rest of the structure. They ducked into an alley to discuss their next move.
“Eight is too many, we need a few volunteers to stake it out, find an open window, a balcony, something.” Jira explained. “Anyone who thinks they can do that without attracting too much attention.”
Melain glanced over at Frek, “We’ll go.” she volunteered, a couple holding hands and admiring the stars was less likely to attract attention then a Trill sneaking around. “You guys keep watch, call us on those comm units if you need to warn us.”
Jira looked as though he as about to protest, then nodded as if seeing the logic in Melain’s proposal. Melain grabbed Frek’s hand and led him across the abandoned street. They slipped through a gap in the gate and pressed up against the building. There they paused briefly.
“Melain, what’s got into you?” Frek asked breathlessly. “There’s a fire in your eyes I have never seen before. It would be terrifying if it was not so.... “ he smiled cheekily, “hot. I thought you where a pacifist?”
“I.... I ....” Melain began. “Later, shh.” she gestured up with her eyes to where a window was being opened. Voices emerged, then dissipated as whoever it was moved deeper into the building. Melain grabbed Frek’s hand once more and they moved around the building to the back. “I was never a pacifist, most of my people believe there is a time for everything, even violence. I just.. it takes a little bit more encouragement to get me riled up then the average person. This Shadow Whatever has crossed that line Frek, they crossed it ages ago and they need to be stopped.”
“Yeah.” Frek replied. “I think I understand, just as long as I never land myself the target of your encouraged rage.”
Melain smiled. “You, never.” There was another noise overhead as a second window was opened, this time the voices grew louder.
“Jared, what the hell are you doing?” a voice bellowed.
“It’s too bloody hot in here, when are those guys coming to fix the environmental controls?” Jared countered.
“Tomorrow, close the windows you idiot, who knows who could be listening?” The bellower insisted.
“Shush man, the buildings on either side are vacant we are fine. Sit down both of you so we can get started.” This was a familiar voice, it was Glet.
“Klen is late.” Jared spoke. “He was supposed to be here hours ago. This is ridiculous, we ned to go find him.”
“He knew the risks of his mission, sit down before I take those fat legs out from underneath you!” Melain was pretty sure this voice was Captain Smith’s. All of them in one place, they had just landed in the jackpot of eavesdropping. She would hazard a guess that Klen was laying in an alley about a twenty minute walk away stunned by his own weapon.
“Quiet all of you. Focus is what we need now.” This fifth voice was deeper then the others, more commanding, more controlled.
“He’s right, everything is in place, now we need to concentrate.” The bellowers voice had calmed down. “Drinks anyone?” This was followed by a round of orders.
“What about the Nevada crew?” Glet asked.
“They know nothing. The message would have made no sense to them without the codes our ships all have, everyone of them is now in position waiting for the signal. The President is already implanted and Klen will have dealt with them by now anyway. The only one’s who know enough to stop with are sitting in this room. They are an annoying inconvenience, nothing more.” Captain Smith replied. “Have you received confirmation from the fleets?”
“All but one, but they should be sending me the message any hour now. They are ready and waiting.” The deep voice replied.
“Glet, you know your job. I don’t care where you are as long as you get a clear view of what is going on, get in on air as quickly as possible and say what we tell you.” Smith instructed. “Mr Lincoln, you’ve told you men where we want them, none of them are to interfere, I expect general chaos when the President goes down, it’s their job to keep that reasonably contained.”
“They know nothing but to expect a riot.” The bellowing voice replied. Melain suspected that this was the head of the security company, possibly the man from the holocam. “And Jared, Klen was supposed to have this job, but you are his second. Here is the control, you know when to use it. Make sure you don’t leave any trace of your own. This needs to be flawless and any mess up you make will ruin everything.” There was a pause.
”I assure you, I will make no mistakes.” The calm voice replied. “I helped you design this Captain, I know how to use it, while the rest of us our putting things in motion, what are you planning on doing?”
“Sitting hear and watch our hard work makes it’s impact. I have done enough already, don’t you dare accuse me of otherwise.” Smith growled.
“Frek, Help me up, I need to get a look at who is in there.” Melain hissed.
“Are you mad?” Frek hissed back. ‘They’ll see you.”
“No, they won’t, help me up.” Melain insisted again
“No, no I am not going to put you in that kind of danger.” Frek insisted as he grabbed Melain’s tricorder from her belt and scanned. “One Bolian, three humans and a male Rigellian, that must be him.”
“What about...” Before Melain could protest Frek pulled her away from the window, and back around the building . “Frek, that Rigellion could have been Jared, or Lincoln."
“Unlikely, both those are human names.” Frek replied, taking her in her arms, she protested momentarily. “I don’t want to lose you Melain.”
“I... okay.. okay you are right.” Melain gave in.
(118600/27461/2)
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davidramsey
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by davidramsey on Feb 20, 2007 21:02:54 GMT
When the security officers surrounded David and "escorted" him out of the room, Lex grabbed Lucy by the arm and made the quickest and most subtle get away possible. Unfortunately, it wasn't subtle enough.
"There, get them!" a security officer called out when it became apparent that David had had company.
Lex tightened her grip on Lucy and darted into and around the crowd that had amassed around the doorway of the church to watch this bit of street theater in action. Lucy lagged a little behind, of course, Lex could only expect so much from her so she had to make a decision. They could either keep running or find a hiding spot. From the looks of things, that wasn't going to be easy. Two members of the security detail were in hot pursuit. Lex darted down a side alley and noticed the edge of a dumpster-esque thing near the end and around the next corner. She cringed at the thought, but decided it was better to be trash than actually trashed. As they rounded the corner, Lex threw open the lid and threw Lucy into the container. She heard the footfalls of the security officers coming around the bend as she shut the lid over herself. Quietly, they listened as the two men came thundering toward them ... and continued on down the adjacent lane.
Lex waited several minutes before popping the dumpster lid open just enough so that she could see the outside area.
"It's clear," she said as she turned back to Lucy in the dimly lit container.
The expression on the hacker's face spoke volumes as she attempted to get to her feet and heave the lid up and off the top.
"Yes, and what a wonderful smell you've discovered, Lieutenant," she replied sourly.
"Well, you're alive aren't you?" Lex countered as she too got to her feet.
"Yes, along with the countless entities that now reside in my clothing and on my skin, I am ... alive," the hacker said coldly as she climbed out of the trash bin.
Lex simply grunted in response as she crawled over the edge and sidled up next to Lucy. She fumbled into her pocket and then patted herself down with a panicked expression on her smudged face.
"Oh, don't tell me," Lucy continued, "you dropped the communicator ... in there?"
Lex flashed her a look of pure distaste.
"oh, don't worry, your majesty, I'll get it ... "
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A few moments later, the rather soiled communicator was back in the science officer's possession along with a used banana peel, several bits of rusted or dirty metal, and what appeared to be a rather intimate part of a Klingon male's mating apparell. Lex flipped the communicator open and sighed as she gingerly put her face close to it. She had wanted to be more poetic and intrepid; however, it's awfully hard to be intrepid while holding a used banana peel so she simply asked the important question.
=^=Lex to Lorre, David has been captured, I repeat, David has been captured, what do you suggest we do?=^=
<Tag Lorre or Frek>
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fthelev
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Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by fthelev on Feb 22, 2007 20:45:57 GMT
Nervously Frek quickly glanced around afraid anyone might have heard their slightly raised voices, but there was no reaction. The corners of his mouth rose a little bit in what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. It might actually have helped some cattle on their way to a slaughterhouse, but it has to be said there was little doubt it would be much help to anyone else. This was the first time they actually heard them say they wanted the Nevada officers dead. To be killed quite definitely and it seemed they wanted the newly elected Federation president to follow that example. Tomorrow. Zahara Vrened seemed to be an ambitious woman with a lot on her sleeve for the years to come. It’s a generally accepted fact that being killed is not the best career move to make. At the very least it does put a certain end to things. Life for example.
Softly he let his hand stroke over the back of Melain’s head. “Come on,” he said, an insisting tone in his voice. With a gentle push he ushered her back around the corner. “It doesn’t seem their meeting is over yet, let’s get back there.” He glanced down the street in the direction where Jira and the rest of them were strategically posted and waved to let them know they were alright. They resumed their post underneath the window. This time no distinct voices made their way through the window, it was more of a blur as they all seemed to be talking at the same time. There was some sort of flicker of light in the room and the voices died down. What was happening up there? Someone new came in? They didn’t see anyone entering the building, nor did they receive the warning signal Jira and co was supposed to give them if someone was coming their way.
“What’s happening? Melain whispered dying to see what was happening inside. If she satisfied her curiosity that would be a distinct possibility. Frek shrugged and pulled out the tri-corder again. He stared at the device for a moment and shook his head. “No new life-signs,” he answered softly. And yet there was a new voice. A clear baritone, somewhat nasal with a distinct accent that neither of the two officers could immediately place.
“You made your preparations?” The Voice asked. He was clearly audible as he was the only one speaking in the quiet room. There was a little shuffle in the room. With some imagination one could argue it was a nervous one. “Yes sir, everything’s set,” Smith answered. There was a clear trace of respect and subservience in his voice. Could it be the big boss he was talking to? “Good.” A little pause. “Let’s go through it.” “Again? We just did so…” That was Glet. “Again” The Voice said sharply. “Do I have to remind you of what we are doing here, what’s at stake?”
It was unmistakably a rhetorical question and no-one answered. Yet the voice kept going. “This will be a turning point in history. They might condemn us for our actions tomorrow, but in ten years we will be the heroes that saved the Federation from going down at the hands of its own decadence. The Federation keeps allowing new worlds entering amongst our midst. Worlds that barely developed Warp-technology worth noticing, worlds that have nothing to offer, except that they spread thin our resources. They are receiving, yet they are not giving and still they want more. Since the Dominion war we have seen a rising trend amongst them, a dangerous one. A trend that shows they want to take power away from the core worlds, the worlds that have made the Federation to what it is and fought for it since it came into existence. And now with their organized protests they form a powerful block within the Federation that we cannot allow.”
The Voice paused, and the silence seemed to be more profound than ever before. It seemed there wasn’t a single sound. No murmur from the close by river or traffic. The soft breeze that had been blowing over the city earlier seemed to have ceased and had made place for an oppressive atmosphere. A storm was about to break loose soon. Frek could feel a chill run down his spine as he exchanged a look with Melain, and this time not because of his attraction to her. There was an odd anxious glance in her eyes, and he could imagine his look wasn’t much better either. “Who is that?” Melain whispered, there was a trembling in her voice, hardly distinguishable, but it was there. “What the hell’s going on?” All he could do was shake his head, he didn’t know. To be honest this was the kind of thing that if you are not already in the middle of it, you simply don’t want to know about.
“For almost two decades we have been preparing and organizing our movement. We have infiltrated every organization of importance within the Federation and in some cases even beyond. We have our people in key positions and ready to come into action. For a long time we have been a shadow, a shadow living in the dark, in places not seen within the Federation, quietly. Quietly working behind the scenes to influence the course of politics subtly to ensure the enduring strength of this alliance, this federation of planets for years and our success has only be proved to be partial. However, our influence over the years proved to be enough to steer things in a direction that will ensure a most favourable outcome for us. Now we are finally ready to move and with our anticipated coming to power of Zahara Vrened and her political ideology the time has never been riper to put our years of hard work into motion. It has given us a deadline, a date where everything will come together. And that will be tomorrow.” Your part in events is crucial, the, uh, definite retirement of president Zahara Vrened will be the starting signal. Without that the rest of the plan will be of no use. So I don’t want to hear any complaints. Is that clear?” The Voice seemed to be taking a deep breath. A few metres away, outside standing below the window Frek did just about the same. Inside there was a murmur of assent.
“Good,” The Voice said. “The capsule containing the micro-explosive and poison, is it implanted?” “Yes sir,” Klen’s back-up, possibly Lincoln or Jared, replied. “I will take over from Klen. Posed as one of the security guards I will easily be able to get into range and detonate the device at the specified moment.” “Being?” “The moment the President makes her opening statement.” Though Melain and Frek couldn’t see what was happening it wasn’t hard to imagine. The Voice had shifted his attention to the reporter. “Glet?” The journalist sighed, but replied compliantly. “I’ll be there broadcasting the event. As soon as the charge goes off I’ll focus the image on Jared disguised as an Evora fleeing the scene. A suggestive report of events will convince the public the separatist movement of the newer worlds are behind it, stating Vrened’s efforts would not be enough to keep them in the Federation.” “Lincoln?” “The detonation device operated by Jared will be found outside, sporting traces of DNA belonging to the aide of the Evoran ambassador. The aide herself will be found dead, shot trying to escape. Evidence pointing to the separatist movement will be placed on her before Starfleet security arrives,” Lincoln boomed. “Excellent.” The Voice sounded pleased. “Inocram, the countdown still going according to plan?” It was a tightly orchestrated sequence of events, all parties and ships under the Shadow Conglomerate’s control needed to be at the right time at the right place. “In place sir,” the Rigellian claimed, “Point Zero will coincide with the death of Vrened. The news of her assassination will be the final and definitive starting signal, once that is given there will be no turning back.”
There was a moment of silence, but Frek could imagine the man with the voice was nodding in satisfaction. Although he still wasn’t quite sure where this would end, he had this subconscious feeling it couldn’t be good. “And the Nevada? They managed to pick it up. Under no circumstances are they allowed to find out what it means and live. It could put everything in danger.” “The Nevada…” Smith started. “The Nevada should have been taken care of a long time ago,” The Voice interrupted. “They are being dealt with, they’ll pose no thread to us,” Smith assured him. “Good, it better be. I will hold you responsible,” The Voice said, “All our assets have been orchestrated into position. Vrened’s assassination will be first in the series of events that will point towards a rebellion among the outer worlds. There is no need for you to know all the details, but if all goes well, tomorrow…”
Mentally Frek could almost see the man grin. “With a little luck, tomorrow the Federation will find itself at the start of a civil war. The weaker outer worlds on the one side and the strong inner worlds on the other. The core planets will prevail and shed the burden we have been carrying for decades of our shoulders. What will remain is a more compact but stronger Federation that will be ready to stand against the forces it will meet in the future. A Federation that will…” he stopped mid-sentence.
“What was that? Go take a look!” Frek and Melain heard him say sharply. Frek swore softly and cursed the damned communicator as it beeped. Frantically he tried to find the off-switch, but you know how it goes with unfamiliar and ancient technology, he couldn’t find it. With a desperate look in his eyes he looked at Melain, as if asking what to do. She shrugged indicating she didn’t know either. There was only one solution. He stretched out his arm and flung it over the fence, hopefully outside hearing distance. The footsteps above their head almost reached the window. Frek glanced towards the safety of the street; they would never make it in time. If the ran they would immediately now something was wrong. He could only think of a single other thing to do. Maintain their cover.
He grabbed Melain, put his arms around her and pressed her against his body. His mouth finding a way to hers and soon they found themselves in a passionate kiss. For a moment the world around him seemed to fade out and he almost forgot where he was, drawn in by the taste of Melain’s sweet lips. He had to focus to maintain a sense of what was happening around him. Vaguely he was aware that by now someone must be looking down on them from above. “It’s nothing,” a voice above their heads they recognized as belonging to Jared said. “Just some Andorian bloke and a Bajoran chick making out.” “An Andorian and a…” A moment of silence. “Didn’t you say that Klen…?” All this hardly took more than a second as the Shadow Conglomerate conspirators realised who they had listening in on them. “Kill them!” The order was given in a sharp tone. Short and direct with no opportunity for misinterpretation.
A phaser blast hardly missed them by an inch. So much for their cover. “Run!” they both realised at around the same time. There was no time for them come up with a plan to get away, they just had to go now, or else they would have all eternity to think about that. And really, by then it would be too late. They broke into a wild run. First around the building and then down the street where Jira was waiting. Behind them a door flung open with a bang. There was the sound of another phaser being fired, but fortunately it came nowhere near. They managed to put enough distance between them and their pursuers to make a good shot impossible. There something of a bewildered look on Jira’s face as he saw the two charging towards him. Frek couldn’t see the others, but he assumed they were close. He didn’t slow down getting closer to the Captain, not to let the guys behind them know they were here as well. “Hide!” he yelled as soon as was in hearing range. He flung the tri-corder towards the astounded man and hoped it wasn’t seen by the Shadow operatives. The readings could be important proof later on. “Meet us back at the fountain!” There was no time to say anything else as he rushed by, followed closely by Melain.
They were nearing the Seine again. Unfortunately for them it wasn’t as busy they wanted it to be. In the crowd they would relatively safe, but now they could be easily spotted and they were. Melain and Frek found themselves on the middle of one of the seemingly hundreds of bridges Paris seemed to have connecting the two river banks, when Frek suddenly stopped in tracks grabbing Melain by her arm, stopping her effectively as well. “Why are you stopping? What’s wrong?” Melain panted. Frek nodded towards the other end of the bridge. A Rigellian and a Human were standing side by side staring straight at them. Both sported what one could describe as a triumphant and unpleasant smile. Sure, they could have been innocent tourists taking a walk on this sultry evening. But really, do you need a phaser doing that? This wasn’t Tammeron. They were both carrying one, the same type Hannah took of their little friend Klen. Melain flung around and tucked at his sleeve. On the other side of the bridge, behind them, stood another familiar figure. A blue one, in the shape of Glet and beside her a somewhat corpulent Human male. Despite his formidable size he must have been able to develop quite some speed if he was able to keep up the pace of the chase, and in all fairness he didn’t look half as knackered as Frek felt.
”Et a vous droite la Tour Eiffel. C’est construi dans l’ans... ” The voice came from the water. One of those fancy boats on which you could have a nice romantic dinner was just about to emerge from on the right side of the bridge. “Over the side!” Frek hissed, pulling her towards the edge. “You mean…” “Yeah, jump!” It was not like they had much choice; it was either that or get shot. Frek knew what he preferred and he had the idea Melain shared the preference.
They landed on the boat around the same as the starters. “L’Hors d’ouvres,” the waiter said proudly to a young couple sitting on the aft deck and held the silver plate over the table in order to put it down. “Oh, doesn’t it look nice?” the young woman said to her companion.
Frek crashed down on it with, well, a crash. “Oww,” he groaned. A probably fresh baked baguette was launched not entirely un-rocketwise in the general direction of the bridge they were just leaving behind. “That’s quite an entry,” he agreed as he slit of the table. A man, presumably Jared, standing at the side basically got it thrown in his arms. With a spiteful look on his face he broke it in half and threw it into the water as he stared after them. Melain landed safely as well. Frek spotted her rolling of the salad bar. She had taken a dive into the healthy. “Who do you think that guy in the room was?” she asked, “He seemed to be in charge.” “I don’t know,” Frek said plucking a lettuce leave out of her hair, ignoring the furious waiter. “He didn’t register as a life-sign. Perhaps a holographic projection transmitted from another location.” “We have to stop the assassination,” Melain said quietly. Frek nodded.
[32733/151160/2]
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Deleted
Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:54 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Feb 24, 2007 0:32:56 GMT
Excusez moi!” The waiter bellowed banging his tray down on a nearby table, and action which spilt that rather expensive looking wine it held. He continued to holler in French. His eyes grew bloodshot, spit showered from his lisping mouth, it would appear that he was rather upset.
‘Umm, Parles un Standard?” Melain tried vainly, inching away from the irate man towards the edge of the boat. She tugged Frek back with her. “Bajoran? No, how about Andorian? Okay then, have a nice day.” With that she took a backwards leap onto a nearby dock, Frek stumbled awkwardly after. He landed with one foot on the dock, the other up to the knee in water. Melain pulled him up by the shirt stifling a laugh. Why was it when someone escaped from a near death situation they felt like laughing?
“You could have warned me.” Frek grumbled, wringing out his pant leg.
“There was no time. Where are we? We need to find the other.” Melain looked around. They where in an older, but obviously not touristy area of the city. “We need a map. Did you download a map?”
“Of course.” Frek replied, pulling out a PaDD. They huddled around it and got their bearings. The fountain was not actually that far away, a twenty minute walk maybe. Of course that was twenty less minutes they had to stop what was going on. Nothing made you value time more then a pending assassination and civil war. They headed out in silence, Melain still picking lettuce, spinach and other leafy greens out of her hair. It could have been worse, she could have landed on the hot entrees.
As they walked Frek’s hand slipped into hers, a small comfort in a desperate time. One ay she would like to visit Paris with him again, some time when they were not the targets of evildoers and wanted by the Federation.
As they neared the fountain Melain could see that the others where waiting. Jira and Steve where seated on the edge. Jira was running his fingers through the water looking thoughtful while Steve was staring off down the street. Melain sat down by Steve without a word, Frek continued to stand.
“We where getting worried.” Jira cut the silence. “Lex and Lucy called, David’s been captured.”
“I thought we already knew that.” Melain replied. “Never mind. We need to move out, this whole thing is even bigger then we thought.”
“Even bigger, what do you mean?” Steve asked. “How much bigger can it get?”
“Civil war, something that has been being planned for years.” Frek began. “To put it simply and quickly, the president’s assassination is the sign for a bunch of Shadow Conglomerate members to start a war. Evidence will be planted to make it look like an Evoran aid...”
“Evoran, they just joined the Federation, a fringe world right?” Harrias asked.
“Yeah, the Shadow Conglomerate is not too happy about these tiny little world being taken in and given resources. This whole thing is designed to start a war that will put the big worlds with them, and naturally end in their defeat. The assassin is going to be disguised as one, DNA will be planted, all sorts of things.”
“An Evoran, there can’t be many of them there right? It should be easy enough to spot him.” Steve explained as he jumped down from the fountain in a ‘lets go get them’ manner.
“Her, he’s being disguised as a female aid.” Melain corrected. “Yeah it will be, but we are wanted fugitives, and despite these disguises Security is still going to be rather suspicious. How are we going to get in there?”
“Not through the front door.” Frek added. “Through the kitchen.” he pointed to a store front sign across the street Isabella’s Restaurant et Service Traiteur.
“Why does everything come down to food with you?” Jira sighed.
“No, no he’s right. The catering company has access to the inauguration. We can get in with little difficulty, and then move about where ever we want as long as it looks like we are working. It’s perfect.” Melain gave Frek a big hug, there was a genius there that sometimes decided to make an appearance. “So who is doing the catering?”
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Les Bon Bonne was doing the catering, and finding this out had been rather easy. It seemed that in payment for their services the company had requested a great deal of publicity. The uniforms where, to put it mildly, grotesque. Designed, it would seem, by a colour blind Vorta. They where paisley, with odd cut angles and ridiculous hats. It would be very easy for them to find caterers whose uniforms they could “borrow” it would be quite another to look at each other and speak seriously.
The group made their way to the back of the Federation building where the catering company had parked their vehicles and where busy moving pre-made food into the facility’s kitchen. There was a group of caterers, presumably on a break, making small talk and sucking on toxic sticks in a dark corner away from the others. With the few phasers they had set to stun the Nevada crew soon incapacitated the men, and removed the torturous clothing from them. There was a quick debate about what uniform would fit who, which ended in Melain having to roll up the sleeves and pants of one smelling badly of fish. Jira had found one that fit decently, and Steve was tugging at his which was uncomfortably tight in the collar. Frek was making odd movements in a hopeless attempt to make himself smaller. Apart from being terribly ugly, the uniforms where also very itchy.
“Right, let’s go.” Jira ordered, adjusting his cap.
“Wait, we don’t even know what an Evoran looks like.” Melain pointed out. A silence followed.
“There those short fellows with the high collars, sort of stubby with knobbly heads and bluish speckles, oh and funny tentacle things off the side of their cheeks.” Frek replied after some time. “I had one in one of my classes back at the Academy, it’s not a look you easily forget.”
”Right, hey I think I remember him, dropped out in second year right?” Melain replied.
“Not now, come on.” Jira interrupted as he led the way into the kitchen.
They each grabbed a tray of appetisers and headed towards the main banquet. ‘Hey, when is the President’s speech going to happen?” Melain asked, suddenly realising the importance of this information.
“First thing, they debated putting it last so everyone would stay for the boring diplomats do their thing, but then she insisted on being first.” A nearby caterer replied, obviously oblivious to the impostors. “Where are you going with those, left side of the hall is already being served. I don’t know why they put the new folks on a job like this. Follow me.”
He lead them to another door which, when opened revealed a world of luxury and beurocrats. “Stay sharp, the security guards and journalists will pick off the trays if you aren’t looking.” The caterer warned as he turned to head back into the kitchen, leaving the Nevada crew alone, surrounded by hungry politicians.
“I don’t see an Evoran.” Melain hissed, standing up on the tips of her toes an an attempt to see above the crowd. “Frek, your tall, do you see...don’t put so much food in your mouth at one.
“Mr Thelev, if you keep that up you’ll ruin our cover.” Jira warned.
“But it’s bean almost a day since I had a decent...” Frek paused mid-bite “Oh there, I think I just saw them on the other side of the hall.”
Moving a meter was like trying to swim through concrete, making their way across the entire hall would take the entire night.
(119908/28769/3)
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fthelev
Guest
Registered: Apr 27, 2024 2:06:55 GMT
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Post by fthelev on Feb 28, 2007 0:01:10 GMT
Crowded it was indeed, a full house. The hall was divided in several sections, though concentric rings around the main stage might be a better description. Closest to the stage on the first ring you would find the Federation officials. Ministers, parliament, followed by the invited guests; dignitaries and ambassadors and whatever other form of diplomats from all over the member worlds and other friendly powers that may be in the Alpha quadrant. Higher up and more to the back and on the balustrades one would find the hordes of reporters from all imaginable media services you could possibly think of. From there they would have a great view of all events, and if they were unable to stop the assassination the events would certainly have a turn for the spectacular. Only a select few had received the honour to move amidst the politicians. At the far end one could find those regular citizens with an interest in the events and lucky enough to get in.
And even though they were doing the catering, or at least supposed to, for those select few journalists and the politicians still numbered in the hundreds, if not more. A snack in his mouth and standing tip-toed Frek peered over the heads, but it was impossible to see anything or eat for that matter. People were still walking around, looking for their seats, or just chatting and mingling with each other. A few times Frek thought he saw something blue with something hover over it. Possibly Glet followed by one of those cameras, computer controlled and fitted with an anti-gravity unit. Always a clear view, and very mobile.
“See anything yet?” Melain asked impatiently. Frek shook his head, it was impossible to find one specific person in these crowds, let alone if you don’t know what they look like. That specifically goes for Evorans, they all look the same. The only thing that stood out was the elevated stage, giving everyone a good view of it. Any moment now people could be summoned to take their seats and would the fresh President of the United Federation of Planets take the stage, and promptly fall down on it as soon as she opened her mouth. They had to find the killer before that.
“We’ll have to split up and search,” Frek suggested, “Hope we are in time.” Jira sighed, clearly he wasn’t to keen on the idea. “Have you seen the amount of people here? By the time we found the Evoran delegation it’s too late.” There was a brief moment of silence. “No,” Lucy said all of a sudden. Most of the time since David’s capture she hadn’t said much, but now her voice sounded sharp and resolute. It came as a surprise to the others. She looked at Frek and Melain. “Listen, you heard the plan right? The aide, or her look-a-like, pulls the trigger and runs. Outside the body of the real aide will be found with her DNA on the detonation device…” “That’s, in short, what we heard them say, yes,” Frek agreed slowly speaking. “So?” “How do they know the fake won’t be caught?” Lucy continued, “He still has to make it out in one piece. They must have set up a pre-planned escape-route!”
It was almost as if she was connecting connection points on a circuit board, looking around for the most optimal route. Straight and analytical thinking, that what she was good at. “Still…so?” Frek said, still not getting the entire picture though he did get hold of another stuffed egg. It was pink. The young woman took a deep breath. “Whatever route he takes to get out, some points will be guarded, like exit points. He needs to take a route where the guards form no thread.” The coin fell with the rest of the group.
“You’re saying our killer will flee following a path only guarded by the Shadow controlled security firm!” Hannah said excitedly. Lucy beamed a wide smile and nodded. “We need to locate the Anderson Security guys,” Lex said following up on Lucy, “Connect them and they seemingly will form a line pointing towards the seats assigned to the Evoran party, is that what you’re saying?” “Humph, security, more a death-squad,” Frek mumbled under his breath consuming another stuffed egg, spilling some of the filling as he spoke. Melain sighed and tucked at his collar. “Really, after we fixed you clothes we need to take a look at your eating manners.” “You sound like my mom.” “Shut up you two,” Jira hissed. Frek opened his mouth to say something but Jira warningly lifted his finger. “And he sounds like you dad?” Lucy dared to fill in.
They all craned their heads to spot the guards, while it wasn’t too hard to spot them occasionally, from their perspective it was impossible to see the line in it. They were at the wrong spot. “We need to go up,” Frek said looking in the said direction. From the balcony or at least the upper end in the back they would look down on the inner half circle containing all the important people and themselves. Although nobody there was aware of it, they might just be the most important people around at that day, at that time. “How much time do we have left?” Hannah asked, “Anyone seen the programme?” Loki picked a leaflet from a table, containing some sort of agenda. “About fifteen minutes, max. We never make it up and back down in time.” “Then how…?”
With time running out options were getting less and less, the chance of the President’s survival was not something you wanted to place a bet on. They needed a solution and fast. “Split up!” Jira suddenly ordered quite resolute and abruptly. “Hannah, take Lucy and one of the remaining communications devices. Get up there and tell us where to go. Hurry! Frek, you still have that phaser?” Almost automatically his hand moved towards his pocket, hidden under the hideous catering uniform. It was a good thing Starfleet used a different supplier. “Yeah,” he nodded. Jira stared after his First Officer and the wiz kid as they disappeared in the masses, making the best time one could possible make in these masses. “Melain, you go with him. Wait for Hannah to tell us which exit the killer will take and get to the outside. Perhaps the Evoran aide, the real one, will be killed here and is still alive. If so, keep her that way.” Jira took a deep breath, and blew it all out again with a sharp hiss. A bit like a puncture tire. “Okay, and if me and Loki fail, and that Jared guy does get away…stop him. At least we’ll have the killer.”
Jira watched as the other two of his officers go as well. Miraculously enough Hannah and Lucy made it to the balustrades in almost less than five minutes. From that position the private security people dressed in black uniforms with ‘ASF Ltd.’ printed in yellow on the back and the front pocket were easily to spot. “Exit gate beta-4,” she reported, her voice sounded a bit distorted. Could be the device, or else perhaps the tension. They all felt it. “The Evoran delegacy is moving towards VIP-compartment delta-7. Front-left stage. Hurry!”
It was needless for her to say that, the stage was already being cleared. Everything was set. On the back of the stage some burly individuals clad in black suits emerged and took their place in front of the red drapery hanging down from the ceiling. On strategic places and barely in sight one could see some occasional yellow from the regular Starfleet security people as well. An introduction music seemingly came up from the ground and floated up, soon it would be replaced by the Federation anthem and the President would take the stage, to make her opening speech. They had until then.
”Come on!” Jira urged pushing Loki forward. He looked for a sign of Steve and Loki’s friend Danny. Steve thought he might have a chance convincing some of his former intelligence buddies, but so far no sign of him. Honestly he didn’t expect much from it, but desperate situations demanded desperate actions. Delta-7, Jira peered around looking for something that would identify the area. Loki pointed out. “There it is!” Her voice was somewhat shrill with excitement. Jira followed her out-stretched arm. In the produced part of the time followed by her arm he saw what they were looking for; The Evoran diplomats. The intro fade into and outro which in turn made place for the Federation anthem. It would give them just about three-and-a-half more minutes.
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Meanwhile Melain and Frek hurried themselves towards the exit marked beta-4. Indeed there was a man of indistinct age and origin dressed in the Anderson uniform. He was looking towards the podium, or was it more to the left of it? The guard looked away from the stage and his eyes glided quickly over Frek and somewhat slower over Melain. “Where do you think you are going?” he asked somewhat sternly. “Hey, are those snacks?” The guard grabbed one of the stuffed eggs of the tray Frek was still holding. “Yeah,” Melain nodded putting an arm through Frek’s, “We need to get some fresh air. He isn’t feeling very well.” “But I…” “Shh…darling, you’ll be fine in a moment,” Melain quickly interrupted and tapped him gently on the arm. “He looks a bit off,” the guard agreed, sounding a bit friendlier and took a bite of the egg. “What’s wrong with him?” Melain pointed at the half finished egg. “He ate about a dozen of those,” she replied. The guard grimaced. “Ugh,” he ughed and dropped the egg back on the plate, “Get him out before he throws up over my shoes.” Melain smiled and hurried him along. “That was easy,” she grinned, “If they’re all so gullible…” “Yeah,” Frek agreed, “There’s nothing wrong with those eggs.”
The corridor of a few metres ended in the hallway surrounding the main hall, in one end ending in the foyer, the other end the emergency exits. No chance someone would be killed in the middle of the foyer. Frek nodded towards the right. “The fire exit!” He disposed of the tray with the eggs in the pot of a decoration Aubergenian eggplant, followed by the catering jacket. It would only obstruct him in his movement. Something resembling a muffled cry emerged from the other end of the door. Normally it would have been locked from the inside, but the electronic lock indicated differently. It was not hard to guess who arranged for that. As if by magic the stealthy phaser appeared in Frek’s hand and he gave Melain a nod. At this point no words were needed for communication. Melain hit the ‘open’ button as the door immediately slit aside. An obese human male looked up, a startled expression on his face. At his feet an Evoran female lay on the ground eyes big with fear. It was not hard to understand why. The phaser in his hand said it all.
Both Starfleet officers recognized the man at once. “Don’t!” Frek warned as the phaser moved up towards them. The phaser hovered in the air, pointing at the ground somewhere between his intended victim and the Starfleet officers. “Give it up Lincoln,” Melain said calmly, “The game is up.” “Humph,” the fat man let out. For a moment it actually looked he was going to put down his weapon, but then it flew upward again at an amazing speed. But it wasn’t fast enough, not quick enough to beat a phaser already aimed, and with that much surface area it was hard to miss. With a groan the man sagged unto the ground as Melain knelt besides the Evoran lady. Softly uttering words of comfort Melain helped the aide inside while Frek put the phaser back in his pocket and followed at distance, struggling with the corpulent unconscious body of Lincoln. “Is she alright?” he shouted after them, half turning around. But then his eyes grew big with fear, his mouth suddenly dry as your average Vulcan desert.
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Jira and Loki reached the box assigned to the Evoran adversaries. They all sat comfortably in their chairs, waiting excitedly for the President to take the stage. Whoever disguised Jared knew what he was doing; he was unrecognisable amongst the other Evorans. “Which one is it?” Loki asked anxiously, “They all look so much bloody alike. I can’t even tell the boys from the girls!” “I know!” Jira hissed, he was damned well aware of the situation and he didn’t need to have it rubbed in, but he knew she was right. They could hardly stun the entire party, although for a moment he did consider it. The final tones of the anthem set in. Soon, only a few seconds away president Zahara Vrened would walk on there and not walk off again. The last tones died away and there was some bustling activity behind the curtain. “Captain!” “I know!”
Elatedly the Evoran watched what was happening, munching on their snacks. The drapery parted and the Federation President appeared under rounds of loud applause. Zahara Vrened smiled and bowed lightly in all direction, scratched the back of her neck and motioned the people in the house to calm down and sit down again. The applause died out as she walked up to the stand and the microphones. The Evorans sat down again and continued eating, seemingly something they enjoyed doing.
Suddenly Lex stiffened and grabbed Commodore Jira by the arm. “Look!” She spoke quickly with a somewhat hoarse voice. “The one not eating all the flowers! That’s him!” The Evorans had a peculiar liking for flowers, they didn’t like them because of their colours, or fresh scent, they simply liked eating them. All of them. Except one.
Accelerating as fast as they could Loki and Jira leaped forward. Jira had already pulled out his phaser, ready to shoot as soon as he would get a clean shot. He didn’t have to wait long for that chance, and that was a good thing for the President about to address the inter-planetary community. A ‘hey!’ from one he violently pushed and he got his shot. He aimed quickly. The bright orange beam shot out of the front of the phaser, hitting the assassin in the side. Harrias Jira had taken no risk, and set the phaser on the heaviest stun setting it sported. Several people around him started to scream as the would-be killer slumped to one side unto the lap of his neighbour. Behind them one of the Anderson Security agents stared bewildered at what was happening, not quite certain what to do. This was definitely not according to plan. If someone had paid attention to him they would be able to see his lips move and ask for instructions, but as it was no-one saw him draw back and disappear.
“Murder!” someone yelled as Starfleet security officers came rushing in from all sides. Internal sensors had already picked up the phaser discharge. On the stage the President was whisked away by the men dressed in black. Jira turned to look at Loki and smiled briefly, dropping the phaser. Their work was done. Whatever happened now was out of their hands. From no on this would be a matter for Starfleet Security, Intelligence or whatever Federation government body was supposed to deal with these sorts of things. Lucy K’anz and Hannah Stevenson had made their way back to their colleagues. The time for running was over. They would be arrested and brought in for questioning, but now it didn’t matter anymore. This and the evidence the collected would prove their innocence. So they might as well be brought in together.
A circle of security people formed around them, not giving them a chance to escape. Some recognized them as the Nevada officers on the loose, others giving them quizzing looks. But one thing they had in common. A don’t-mess-with-me attitude. “Harrias!” There was a motion and the circle suddenly was roughly broken by someone, or better said some people forcing their way in. David Ramsey followed by a young officer clad in the yellow of the Starfleet security uniform was the first. Soon Steve and Danny followed. “You made it?” It was more of a statement than a real question. Jira nodded. “So did you,” he said with a nod to the officer at his side. The officer smiled and extended a hand. “Reo, Josh Reo is the name,” he said, “When we caught him he told the wildest stories. We didn’t believe him at first, thought he’d gone barmy.” He nodded at Steve and Daniel. “Then they came along, with the same insane story. We couldn’t take the risk and decided to come and check it out.” Jira laughed sourly. “You could have tried to come a bit earlier,” he said cynically, “It was awfully close.” “Perhaps,” Reo replied, “But by the looks of it you handled it just fine yourself.” He looked around. “By the way, where are the other two?”
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In horror Frek stared at the figure standing in front of the door leading back to the large conference hall. It was Smith. He was wearing his Starfleet uniform. Captain’s pips on his collar. His face was ugly, twisted in pure hatred, his eyes flaming with fury. It went without saying he was clearly not amused. Not at all to be precise. “You!” he spat out like venom, “For years I worked on this plan. Years you understand! It was my destiny in life, to safe the Federation from these evil threads from inside. But now…” His voice had dropped to a hissing whisper, it only resulted him sounding darker than ever, diabolical. “But now the chance has been ruined, destroyed by…by…unworthy crawlers that deserved to be crushed!”
Melain had slowly raised to her feet, the Evoran woman sitting at her feet on the floor. When she turned around to see Frek he could see the fear in her eyes. It sent a chill down his spine a hollow feeling forming inside of him. This man was beyond reason and he knew what was coming and there was nothing he could do about it. “My superiors will have my head for failing,” he hissed like a trapped serpent, “But I’ll have yours first, and when you die, remember, you may have foiled this, but the Shadow Conglomerate will live on until it has made their proclamation known and put those words into reality!” He let out a gruff laugh. “But for you it ends here!” Slowly and deliberately Smith aimed the phaser he was holding, he took take his time. There was no way any of them could reach him before he killed them both. “The pretty lady first, and…” “Nooo!” Frek caught the insane glistering in his eyes, in one horrid moment he knew it was over. Melain, the woman he loved, would be killed right here before his eyes. He would see her perish before his own death and there was nothing he could do.
He knew he would be too late, but he had to try. Had to try to safe her. He stormed towards her as fast as he could, with a speed he never thought possible he could develop. Time seemed to slow down to a fraction of its normal speed. His was vision a blur and on the background the insane chuckling of Smith getting his final satisfaction. Frek slammed into Melain around the same time Smith fired the phaser. The sound of the phaser blast, a thumb, or was it the other way around. The bright light of the phaser abruptly died away as they reached the ground, Melain hitting the floor first, Frek falling on top of her. The collision had knocked the breath right out of him. He groaned and shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He was still alive. Melain! Had he been in time? With some effort he pushed himself away from her. She was breathing. No phaser wound. Then she opened her eyes, the senses coming backing to her, and smiled at him.
Behind them someone let out very deep sigh. Frek rolled of the Doctor and looked up. “Can’t the two of for once just wait until you are in your hotel room?” a sarcastic voice said. Both of them looked up to stare into the smiling face of Commodore Harrias Jira. In his hand he held a silver tray he picked up from the Aubergenian eggplant pot. It had a big dent in it, one that fitted the back of the head of a certain Captain Smith nicely. The captain in question was lying on the floor, unconscious. He would wake up in a nice cell with an enormous bump and a concussion. The rest of the team came in the wake of Jira. “You two alright?” Hannah inquired. “Yeah,” Frek said with a hand on his stomach, “But I think there’s something wrong with those eggs.”
[36264/154691/3]
Okay, I guess this is it for this missions. If someone feels like doing back posting, you have till we start the next mission. Probably around the beginning of next week.
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