Lt. JG Natasha Cole - Timing Tells
Natasha Schell
Natasha’s fingers stayed light on the controls, but her attention sharpened. Bureaucracy she could tolerate. Bureaucracy with timing like this felt more like friction with intent.
Cole: They’re taking too long for this to be routine. I don’t know what that means yet, but I don’t like it.
Storm: What’s taking them so long? My creds are valid.
Jaran: Response
Betazed Planetary Control: =/\= Ms. Antares, you are cleared to dock. Please proceed to Station Alpha, Berth Delta-7.=/\=
Storm: =/\= Acknowledged, Planetary Control. =/\= Nat, take us in.
Cole: Gladly. I’m ready to stop negotiating with orbit.
Jaran: Response
Turning to the two of them, Alex crossed her arms over her chest.
Storm: I’ve had a thought. If I introduced you to Nila, what would you think about splitting up. I’m going to be hard pressed to get to the funeral on time as it is. Maybe the two of you could talk to Nila and see what you can find out, and I can attend the funeral - or what’s left of it.
Natasha glanced at Alex, then at Jaran, weighing the shape of the risk against the shape of the time they no longer had. She didn’t like dividing resources, but she liked wasted opportunities less.
Cole: It’s not ideal, but it makes sense. You’re the one who needs to be seen there. We’re the ones who can afford to go digging. ::beat:: with one condition: the second something feels off, you tell us.
Storm: I don’t think anything’s going to happen to me here, Nat, but if I get a tickle or an ache in the wrong place, I’ll comm you the very second something feels … off.
Jaran: Response
The protective part of her still wanted the simple version of this: find Kona, get Cassie back, end the problem. But the investigator in her had already started circling the details that didn’t fit. Too many stops. Too quick a departure. Too much effort spent leaving before the funeral even began.
Cole: I’m less interested in where he said he was going than in why he chose to leave now. Timing usually tells on people before destinations do.
Storm: He always got along better with his father than with his mother. It’s possible the two of them quarreled. It’s also possible that he found out I was on my way.
Jaran: Response
Cole: You go be family. We’ll go be inconvenient. ::wink::
Storm: How long until we have boots on the ground, Nat?
Natasha checked their speed and ran the numbers.
Jaran: Response
Alex stood. She flexed her fingers clenching and reopening several times in quick succession.
Storm: Well, crap! I know why we were held up!
Cole: We should touch down in twelve minutes. What did you figure out?
Jaran: Response
Alex’s hand came up to cover her mouth.
Storm: Kona was on one of those outbound ships.
Natasha’s jaw tightened. Annoyance burned off almost instantly, leaving something colder behind. Bureaucracy she could work around. Deliberate delay was a different animal.
Cole: That explains the stall. We weren’t being processed. We were being managed.
Jaran: Response
Storm: I felt …
Alex sighed out loud.
Storm: I felt him.
Alex turned to face her and Jaran before she continued.
The protective part of her wanted to curse orbital control, Kona, and timing itself. The investigator in her filed the feeling away and reached for the detail instead.
Storm: I didn’t know it was him. It was just … a familiar presence trying not to be noticed. It had to be Kona.
Cole: Then you didn’t miss him. You caught a piece of him without knowing what you were looking at. That still counts.
Jaran/Storm: Response
Cole: Then our first stop stays the same. Spaceport, records, and anyone who thought holding us in orbit was ordinary.
Natasha’s mind was already moving ahead of the shuttle: orbital delay, outbound ships, a familiar presence trying not to be noticed, and a man who had apparently decided getting gone mattered more than attending his own father’s funeral.
Jaran/Storm: Response
She adjusted their approach vector by a fraction, eyes fixed on the controls even as her mind moved three steps ahead.
Cole: Funny thing about clever exits, they usually depend on at least one person assuming no one will look too closely. I’m in the mood to disappoint somebody.
Jaran/Storm: Response
Tags/TBC
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Lt. JG Natasha Cole
Security Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205NC4