[sb118-artemis] Ensign Tho'Bi - For I Have Seen The Great Silver Bird in The Sky

[Tobi]

—————————————

((Deep Space 3 - 238607.02))

Clunk!  Clatter!  He jumped.  The noise of the engineering kit hitting the deck, the tools spilling out across the worn metal decking, had startled him.  He looked down at his model of the Constitution Class Heavy Cruiser, USS Enterprise NCC 1701 (Refit); its port nacelle and pylon had splintered off, resting uneasily to one side, the nacelle lights flickering on and off.  For a moment, he wanted to smash it; but then, he teared up; his deep blue eyes, glazed and shimmer, like Andorian ice catching the light.  He was seldom left alone, but the yeoman watching him had been called to engineering; he didn’t mind, Enterprise needed her Refit-Shakedown.

They’d made it as far as Vulcan, when the door slid open. Swoosh!  His mother entered, carrying a heavy engineering kit and a heavier mood.  She made straight for bathroom, dumping the engineering kit on her way.  Within the moments, the soft, rounded modulation of the sonic shower was purring quietly.  He peaked out from around the door of the walk-in supply closet, made-up to serve as his bedroom.  He spied the tools, spread out across the floor.  The nacelle and pylon went in one hand; the rest in the other, he made his way quietly to the tools.  The sound of the sonic shower had stopped.  He froze.

They were sat on the floor; the tools still strewn around them.  The port warp nacelle pylon had been clamped to the hull; his mother teasing the broken joint with a Laser Welder.  He was slumped up against her; attentive, watching her work.  The joint renewed and left to set, they set about the task of putting the tools back into their flat, gray and clunky box; only now, did his mother speak; explaining she had made a mistake at work, and gone along with something she shouldn’t have, even though she knew better.

He had tried to understand; but he could not grasp, not at that age, the rub that lies between rules and regulations, and your loyalty to your crew mates.

(( Transporter Room 3, Deck 7, USS Artemis-A - Stardate 240204.15))

Ral: Good answer, ensign. Questions?

The dull hum of the transporter system filled the room.  The pads washed the room in a somber glow of dull warm light. 

Tho'Bi: Errmm… ::holds up duffel bag:: where do I…

The Bajoran woman sighed.  The Senior Chief Petty Officer was clearly in a hurry.  She stole the duffel bag from out between the blue of his hands and fingers; making her way towards the weapons lockers, she rattled off instructions.  

Ral: Keep it here, I will lock it into the second locker and set the code to 5-7-8-8-9, so you can pick it up when we come back, ok?

He might have nodded in acknowledgment, he might have not; in either event, the Bajoran’s pace continued unabated. 

Ral: Ok, ensign. It will be simple. We now transport on the planet, where we need to pick up on crewmen who get into trouble. We will visit the detention hall of Risa Security, so there will be no shooting, no danger, and nothing to worry about. Simple pick-up. Don’t speak; look like bored, uninterested Andorian all the time. Keep your distance one step behind me and let me do all the speaking and answering. The important thing, now keep your attention. ::raises the index finger to emphasize the following:: I and only I will sign under anything they gave us to sign, only my name will be on the record. Understood? Everything clear?

The flow of instructions had washed over him; he felt oddly sedated by it, or perhaps it was his Andorian blood, preparing him for the ‘what’s next’.  Meeting new people left him a stuttering, stumbling mess; but actual danger, actual risk, his mind slowed, as though cooled by the lunar glaciers of his parents’ home.  He looked at the Chief calmly.

Tho'Bi: Aye, Aye.

The returning nod, he had expected, but not the smile; Dark brown eyes looked him up and down, world worn, but fierce with fight. 

Ral: Good, ensign; it looks like you got proper phaser handling schooling at Academy. Good to know. Yeah, good to know.

He had; he could build one.  The young ensign barely noticed the Chief adjust the line of his uniform.  Had she stood on her tiptoes to reach his shoulders?  Probably.

Ral: Much better. Ok, time to go.

He watched the Bajoran hustle back to the console; her fingertips skipped across the inputs; coordinates and timer set, she joined him on the transporter pad.  He thought he caught her lips move, as though she were counting; he couldn’t be sure.

(( Outside RSF Headquarters - Risa ))

Tshhhhhh.  Bright sunshine flickered into existence.  A strong scent of flowers caught his nose, and a faint breeze tracked across his face and hands.  His body jolted; and then eased up, they were on Risa.

Ral: Let’s go.

It was in the bright sunlight that he noticed the scars on the Bajoran’s neck; so much dulled and made distant, by the vast dissidence of space; it was here, planet side, where people had nowhere to hide.

He simply nodded in reply; it was already noisy enough, he didn’t need to add to it.

No sooner had his feet carried him up the weather-worn stone steps and into a small flagstone courtyard, when the Chief came to a shuddering halt; so sudden her deceleration, he was forced to sidestep, so as not to run into the back of her.

Ral: ::whispers:: Jev..

The sound of the sonic shower had stopped.  He knew he was not allowed to use the tools.  The warp nacelle and pylon in one hand, the rest in the other, testified to his guilt.  He froze.  The Chief did not; a warm smile spread across her face; she turned around.

Dakora: Ahem. Good afternoon, Chief Ral. ::He checked the Andorian’s collar as he turned.:: Ensign. ::His brow furrowed.:: I sincerely hope this isn’t exactly what it looks like…

Though he had not realized it until now, the young ensign had turned with his Bajoran master.  It did not matter that he did not recognize the voice or face, he recognized the uniform; he recognized the rank. 

Dakora: Who are you, by the way?

His mother’s fingertips moved across the broken connection between hull and pylon; she was crouched in front of him.  Her dark blue eyes shimmered and glazed, like light catching the ice.  She looked at him.

Ral: He’s my escort here, sir. Acting Boatswian’s Mate Tho’Bi. We were on our way to review the arrest of Artemis enlisted for a reported barfight. If it is the case of NJP or ADA, we still don’t know, sir. We were on our way to discover the details.

Had the Lieutenant Commander asked him a question?  The Chief had answered for him, so the Lieutenant Commander must have asked him a question.

Tho'Bi: Ensign Tho’Bi, Sir.  Engineering.  (beat)  Arrived today from the Academy (beat) by way of Starbase 12 (beat) About thirty minutes ago.

It was only when he finished talking, that he looked directly at the Lieutenant Commander.  It was only when he finished talking, that he realized he had started in the first place.  The Lieutenant Commander’s hand was up; would he have gone on talking if it weren’t?  Perhaps, perhaps not. 

Dakora: Wait, hold on. Let me get this straight. ::He pointed a bladed hand at Ral.:: You ordered him ::His hand shifted to the Andorian:: to gear up and accompany you on a prisoner retrieval excursion?

The chief nodded.  Branches of thick, flat leaves overhung the ancient stone walls of the courtyard, swaying the breeze.  The shady, diffused sunlight tracked across the back of the Bajoran’s neck; conjuring a little landscape of shadows, out of the scares it found there.

Vailani: I’d also be interested to know what authorisation you intended to use when you stepped into that building? Or did you think you could just walk in and  flash your combadge and they’d give you a prisoner?

The ensign started and took a step back.  He had not noticed the presence of Lieutenant until now.  She was Bajoran like the Chief; younger, but no less intimating. 

Ral: Not ordered; asked nicely, sir. He’s an officer.

He looked up; between the green of the flat leaves, and deep in the blue, the Artemis hung, like a great silver bird in the sky.  All the adventures he might have had, he felt them coming to an abrupt end. 

Ral: ::gaze at Dakora and turn her eyes on cobblestone a few steps away:: Can I speak to you more privately, sir? 

Dakora: Response

He had always wondered what it was his mother had done, that she shouldn’t done.  Would it help her understand, he wondered.  Would it help her understand, when he turned up, a few weeks from now, busted out of Starfleet.  He smiled a quiet, relaxed smile, one only smiles when faced with certain doom.

Ral: ::whispers:: When I got a report from RSF, I recognized that fake name. That enlisted is not an OPS Yeomen; he’s one of yours.

The Chief had ferried the Lieutenant Commander away from the Lieutenant and himself; the older Bajoran woman was speaking in hushed tones; as though devolving information, only suitable for those of privileged rank; the younger Bajoran woman looked less than impressed by this, and twice as angry.  The Chief continued, either unaware of her fellow Bajoran’s growing disdain, or indifferent; the ensign could not say which.

Ral: ::whispers:: Given that fact, I decided to address it without an immediate paper trail before RSF gets time to think differ and start digging into his real name and all. Keep RSF happy. Iron out the problem down here and pick him up if possible; if so, restrict him to his quarters and report the incident up to the department with a boatswain’s disciplinary recommendation so they can handle it in-house as they see fit.

High above them in orbit, in the weapon’s locker of a transporter room, in a standard-issue Starfleet duffel bag, his model of the Constitution Class Heavy Cruiser, USS Enterprise NCC 1701 (Refit), drifted snuggly in protective wrap; he would want to make sure he got it back, before left for home.

Vailani: I respect your … creativity Chief, but your judgement is way off it might as well be in another galaxy. At no point in this plan, did you think to reach out to Commander Dakora? Lieutenant Silveira, our tactical chief? Myself, your direct superior officer? Or any member of Commander Dakora’s former team? 

He wanted to sit down on the heavy flagstones; feel their sunbaked warmth rise up through him, and watch the grown-ups fight.

Dakora/Ral: Responses

He imagined his mother’s disappointment; it jolted him back to reality.  He squinted through the shifting sunlight; the bustle of people enjoying their vacations filled his ears.  In his absence, the conversation, that had been going on around him, had taken on a more complex dynamic. 

Vailani: So, as you explain it you recognize a name that you believed could be compromised? When and how did you learn of this name, Chief?

He decided it best to remain quiet; not that the young ensign could have really said anything, even if he wanted to; he had not one clue as to what was going on, or, for that matter, who any of these people were.

Dakora/Ral: Response

Vailani: :: to Dakora :: I think I might have heard enough. Whatever you want to do, I will support you?

The smell of cooked food caught his nostrils; all fat spit, bitter charcoal, and oil sweat; he longed for reliable and consistent replicated food, the reassuring hum of a warp reactor, and elongated snug of Jefferies Tubes.  

Dakora/Ral: Response

Vailani: Response

TAG/TBC

————————————

Ensign Tho’Bi

Engineering

USS Artemis-A

A240203T11