Notes: Thanks for the compliments so far! And I changed Ortiz's name for
you Shell, thanks for pointing that out!
((Q))
The command crew of the SeaQuest were now deeply concerned for their missing friend. The evidence was stacking up to prove his departure was not done with his sole decision. They just had no idea who was involved, why, or what was really going on. A very frustrating scenario. It was two days after the discovery that the messages were all created at the same time, it was a revelation that Tony was actually a good actor, and it was a puzzle as to why he would fake the messages in the first place.
"Here!" Lucas flew into the room with energy, interrupting the command crews thinking. "I've got the location of where he recorded and sent all the messages, which was a small communications studio in Montego Bay, Jamaica. That's about a days fast travel from here. We could take a shuttle and investigate and be back within three days. Call it a shore leave or something." Bridger blinked at him, as did the rest of the group. The messages must have been made two and a half months before. The chances that anyone would remember anything where slim, though it didn't hurt to try.
"Okay. Ford, take O'Neil, Ortiz.and Lucas. Report back ASAP."
"Aye sir."
(()Q())
"Hallo, welcome to Montego's communication station. I am Elana, how can I help you today?" The woman's friendly voice accented lightly made their entrance to the brightly lit station very welcome indeed. O'Neil almost felt bad that they weren't going to be customer's.
"Hello Elana. I'm Tim O'Neil and this is Ortiz and Lucas. We were wondering if you could spare a moment and answer some questions for us?" She smiled knowingly and nodded.
"But of course, this way please. We'll want to get out of the way for everyone else here." She led them into a room off to the side and closed the door to face them.
"How can I help you UEO boys today?"
"We're looking for a friend, he was here about two and a half months ago-"
"I see." She cut O'Niel off and frowned to herself, her dark eyes focusing on his UEO insignia. It made him slightly uncomfortable. "Your friend, he wasn't very tall was he?"
"Not really, he-"
"Okay." She cut him off again, Lucas looked at Ortiz with raised eyebrows.
"He was blonde.no I think he was a dirty blonde almost brown hair?" They nodded in unison but refrained from saying anything. She snapped her fingers three times in unison and then looked up, smiling slightly.
"Ah, his name was Anthony?"
"No, just Tony. Tony Piccolo." Tim supplied hopefully.
"Ah yes, Mr. Piccolo. Funny man though if you ask me he felt a bit weird.then again most people who are not fully human do that to me." She grinned, her large brown lips splitting softly to show white teeth.
"Not human? How do you feel that? Are you some sort of telepathic?" Lucas asked with interest.
"Simply a highly empathic individual you could say. I sense that you are all very worried about him. I'll tell you he was with three men, they didn't have the nicest aura around them, but Tony.I couldn't read him. He must have some form of telepathic abilities to block his emotions like that." She felt their surprise and blinked. "You didn't know of his abilities? Well, don't let him know I hinted about it, obviously he was hiding it for a reason. Now back to those men. They paid for the communication process, I'll get you the records in a minuet. What else can I tell you.one of them had a rather large tattoo on his shoulder, a spider web about a hands size. He was a bulky man, the other two were slightly smaller but also well built. That is all I can recall for you gentlemen." They stared at her a moment in surprise, she had the memory of an elephant. "Anything else?"
"Actually I was wondering if you noticed any insignia on their clothing, anything to indicate the company or program they worked for?"
"Civilian clothing, although your friend was wearing a blinding lime green shirt. I liked his style." She smiled briefly then frowned. "I hope you find him, I think he could use the friends."
"We'll find him, you can be sure about that. Thank you for your help."
"Not a problem. You are all welcome here at any time." They nodded and herded themselves out into the sweltering heat after receiving a downloaded version of the message records. Tim wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted across the road, a frown marring his features.
"Three men, all well built and one had a spider web tattoo across his shoulder. How the hell are we supposed to find them?"
"A tattoo parlour Tim. Always start at the most obvious." Ford's strong voice cut into the groups dismal moping and he clapped Ortiz on the back as he joined the huddled men. "Is that all you got for a description?" He asked, indicating the conversation he'd overheard as he joined the group.
"Afraid so Commander, as well as these records but I'm not sure what we can find on them that could be useful." Ford nodded, thinking.
"Okay, Lucas I want you to start digging into the method of payment, see if you can figure out a paper trail. You can use this communication post as an uplink to the SeaQuest if you need any extra information." Lucas nodded. "Ortiz, you're going to take Tim here to get his first spider web tattoo. See if you can somehow get records for that type of style. Maybe we can find our muscle man that way. I'm going to hit the local pubs and see whether or not our suspects are regulars. We'll meet back at the shuttle no later than twenty-three hundred hours. Okay?"
"Aye sir." O'Neil replied, the other two nodded and then Ortiz threw his arm over Tim's taller shoulder.
"Come on language man, let's make you a bad boy." Tim simply shook his head in foreboding.
(()Q())
Lying there hurt. It hurt so much that he wasn't sure how to react. He was never sure of exactly how he should react, story of his life, but now he was hurting and it wasn't all physical. The metal table as cold as ice on his naked body was beginning to freeze his insides. He hoped it would freeze his heart so it could stop, and he could stop being here in soul. The problem was that as much as he hated this, the idea of leaving his body here to be mutilated by who knows what and for how long was just as repulsive as being around. So he lay here, face down, arms spread to the side and strapped in place, his naked body on view for the scientist and who knew how many assistants to gaze at and poke at and violate in any way they chose.
It was the same as the last time, with the UEO, though they hadn't felt the need to dunk him in a warm water tank more than once. God that hurt and if he ever had the chance he'd return the favour, only he'd make the water scalding, warm water never bothered regular people. So all in all it was the same as last time, same tests, imprisonment, humiliation, probing and relentlessly curious scientists, small tanks he'd be locked in for days on end. It never ended. And it was the same as last time, so why did he feel so much worse?
He'd had a long time to analyze the emotions he'd been feeling and why they soared to such increased levels. A long time of waiting between tests, of nights when he couldn't sleep and they didn't notice. It was difficult to fool them into thinking you were asleep, with all the monitors attached to him, when they knew he was awake they'd sedate him. It was no good if their lab rat wasn't getting its required dose of REM cycle. He was so sick of drugs and becoming so used to them he occasionally questioned his judgements on his surroundings. Thankfully they'd performed the last drug test the day before, now they were branching into the more molecular part of the study, as if they hadn't been working on it from the beginning. He wanted to spit at them, but his head was pretty much plastered to the metal slab. They didn't like it when he struggled.
So this trip around the lab was worse then the last one for several obvious reasons, but he knew what to expect. After all he'd done it before. Even the first time, the moment he'd been caught he'd known what to expect. He understood people, the way they ticked, their curiosity that made them question and examine everything to death. It would be the death of him if they weren't careful. Knowing his fate had helped him over come it, kept him motivated to live, to get back to the ocean, to freedom.
And in all of his self-reflection he'd finally realized why this hurt so much more than it should. It was difficult to understand at first. He'd had his ocean to motivate him, his animals to talk to, what more motivation could he possibly need. Then he'd remembered that while he had all of that he didn't have what he wanted the most, and that was a friend. As cheesy as it sounded Tony Piccolo (adopted name created in self good taste) wanted somebody that wasn't a fish or whale to talk to. He wanted a human friend, his closest relative in species. And why not? It was lonely patrolling the oceans, and he'd never, ever come across another of his kind. Not at all in the last one hundred and fifty years.
Now, now he had those friends, those human friends. And he missed them, and that was why this was worse than last time, because before when he escaped he had his craved freedom, and no one to share it with. Now he had people to share it with, and they didn't even know that he cared. Wasn't he something? The ringleader of a school of clown fish.
He felt his arms and neck finally release from their bonds, and he pulled his arms under his chest, slowly pushing his body up and swinging his legs over the side. Now with his butt experiencing frostbite he practically growled at an assistant as he carefully handed him a set of those stringy clingy shorts. He stood and slipped them on, not feeling any less naked with the minor coverage it provided.
"Get the swabs to the lab and begin analysis."
"I thought this was the lab." Tony found himself replying offhandedly, a reflex retort from years of practice. He watched as the assistant left with the bag full of individually wrapped q-tip things. They'd gone all out this time, taking skin cell swabs from every part of his body as opposed to one section. He frowned as he watched the man leave. He'd just been in the water for the longest period of time since his arrival, no doubt they were increasing the submersion time to see the different affects. He just hoped they hadn't yet reached the cellular point where his lower body began to rapidly develop skin cells and his fin formed. How much fun would he not have if that happened?
"Very good Tony, I see your time in the water hasn't dulled your perception." The doctor sniped, signing some form on a clipboard.
"Only my complexion I'm afraid. Any trip to some real ultra violet rays in the making? Oh wait, I forgot that this wasn't a vacation. How silly of me, as a prisoner I get confused with the hospitality of this place." The bald doctor gave a snitty grin and simply nodded in response to the guard that was Tony's escort, who subsequently pulled his arms behind his back and placed restraints on him. Tony didn't bother wasting any energy on fighting, he knew he couldn't get out of the complex in this situation.
However today, as he was led out of the sterile lab and away from the table of death, he immediately realized that there was only one guard instead of two. Interesting.
"Hey Tweedle Dee? Where's Tweedle Dumb today?" The man who was dressed entirely in a dark blue and snug jumpsuit complete with a badge on the shoulder glanced at him and kept walking. Tony's bare feet slapped on the ground as he walked beside his guard, he made an effort to be loud. He started humming an extremely off tune version of "You Ain't nothing But a Hound Dog," One of the King's best. Now, considering the irresponsibly long distance it was from the particular lab they just left to the tank section, he managed to get on the man's nerves in under thirty seconds. A new record.
"Quiet."
"Or what? You'll turn me over to science?" He saw the mans jaw set in annoyance but he didn't reply. So they kept walking along the winding corridor and he kept humming off tune. They rounded a corner and he caught the tail end of a man disappearing behind one of the anonymous doors, and it looked like he'd been pushing a wheelbarrow. Tony wrinkled his sensitive nose to the faint but still disgusting odour. Feces. He noticed the guard had stiffened and glared worriedly at the door a moment before resetting his calm and collected façade, not slowing his pace in the slightest.
Tony grinned to himself and continued humming as though he hadn't noticed the man and what he presumed a slip-up. He had never, not once, seen anybody in the halls during these transfer walks, nor had he ever been given any hint of what was behind the doors. Probably because they were afraid he'd learn some information that could lead to his escape. He hummed and shot a glance at the guard, seeing him relaxed. Another point to note, Tweedle Dee was relaxed around him. Good.
They finally reached another door, the guard placed his thumb in the sensor spot and it slipped silently open, revealing a small passageway along the side of a glass tank. Tony glanced into it and frowned. A rock in the centre, some short seaweed patches flowing around it. The dirt covered grown was covered in little glittering rocks illuminated by purposely placed light beams that were probably meant to mimic the sun. He also noticed a current. His frown deepened as they reached its back where stairs led to a platform at the top. There were, of course, three other guards waiting to assist him into the tank. How thoughtful.
"Mr. Minor has some company today. He felt you would provide some decent entertainment." The guard gloated seeing his discomfort. Tony glared at him but refrained from comment.and then he had an idea. Or at least the beginning of one. When the guards began moving towards him, expecting his usual struggle he sighed resignedly and hoped to paste a look of defeat on his face before he simply turned and began trudging up the stairs, by his own accord. For a moment he could sense their shock, and then two of them scrambled up after him. Reaching the top they cautiously removed his restraints, warily waiting for some kind of attack. Instead Tony simply turned and dove elegantly into the tank, heading straight to the bottom where he slouched against the rock and stared morbidly at his feet.
A moment later he felt the slight vibration of the thick glass lid moving into place above him, sealing him in until it was once again removed. He saw the blurry shapes of the guards standing on the other side of the glass, watching him a moment before disappearing. Tony restrained his satisfied grin, knowing that that was the first step in letting them think he'd finally accepted being their prisoner. Now he had time to plot, and a plan of escape began to form.
((Q))
The command crew of the SeaQuest were now deeply concerned for their missing friend. The evidence was stacking up to prove his departure was not done with his sole decision. They just had no idea who was involved, why, or what was really going on. A very frustrating scenario. It was two days after the discovery that the messages were all created at the same time, it was a revelation that Tony was actually a good actor, and it was a puzzle as to why he would fake the messages in the first place.
"Here!" Lucas flew into the room with energy, interrupting the command crews thinking. "I've got the location of where he recorded and sent all the messages, which was a small communications studio in Montego Bay, Jamaica. That's about a days fast travel from here. We could take a shuttle and investigate and be back within three days. Call it a shore leave or something." Bridger blinked at him, as did the rest of the group. The messages must have been made two and a half months before. The chances that anyone would remember anything where slim, though it didn't hurt to try.
"Okay. Ford, take O'Neil, Ortiz.and Lucas. Report back ASAP."
"Aye sir."
(()Q())
"Hallo, welcome to Montego's communication station. I am Elana, how can I help you today?" The woman's friendly voice accented lightly made their entrance to the brightly lit station very welcome indeed. O'Neil almost felt bad that they weren't going to be customer's.
"Hello Elana. I'm Tim O'Neil and this is Ortiz and Lucas. We were wondering if you could spare a moment and answer some questions for us?" She smiled knowingly and nodded.
"But of course, this way please. We'll want to get out of the way for everyone else here." She led them into a room off to the side and closed the door to face them.
"How can I help you UEO boys today?"
"We're looking for a friend, he was here about two and a half months ago-"
"I see." She cut O'Niel off and frowned to herself, her dark eyes focusing on his UEO insignia. It made him slightly uncomfortable. "Your friend, he wasn't very tall was he?"
"Not really, he-"
"Okay." She cut him off again, Lucas looked at Ortiz with raised eyebrows.
"He was blonde.no I think he was a dirty blonde almost brown hair?" They nodded in unison but refrained from saying anything. She snapped her fingers three times in unison and then looked up, smiling slightly.
"Ah, his name was Anthony?"
"No, just Tony. Tony Piccolo." Tim supplied hopefully.
"Ah yes, Mr. Piccolo. Funny man though if you ask me he felt a bit weird.then again most people who are not fully human do that to me." She grinned, her large brown lips splitting softly to show white teeth.
"Not human? How do you feel that? Are you some sort of telepathic?" Lucas asked with interest.
"Simply a highly empathic individual you could say. I sense that you are all very worried about him. I'll tell you he was with three men, they didn't have the nicest aura around them, but Tony.I couldn't read him. He must have some form of telepathic abilities to block his emotions like that." She felt their surprise and blinked. "You didn't know of his abilities? Well, don't let him know I hinted about it, obviously he was hiding it for a reason. Now back to those men. They paid for the communication process, I'll get you the records in a minuet. What else can I tell you.one of them had a rather large tattoo on his shoulder, a spider web about a hands size. He was a bulky man, the other two were slightly smaller but also well built. That is all I can recall for you gentlemen." They stared at her a moment in surprise, she had the memory of an elephant. "Anything else?"
"Actually I was wondering if you noticed any insignia on their clothing, anything to indicate the company or program they worked for?"
"Civilian clothing, although your friend was wearing a blinding lime green shirt. I liked his style." She smiled briefly then frowned. "I hope you find him, I think he could use the friends."
"We'll find him, you can be sure about that. Thank you for your help."
"Not a problem. You are all welcome here at any time." They nodded and herded themselves out into the sweltering heat after receiving a downloaded version of the message records. Tim wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted across the road, a frown marring his features.
"Three men, all well built and one had a spider web tattoo across his shoulder. How the hell are we supposed to find them?"
"A tattoo parlour Tim. Always start at the most obvious." Ford's strong voice cut into the groups dismal moping and he clapped Ortiz on the back as he joined the huddled men. "Is that all you got for a description?" He asked, indicating the conversation he'd overheard as he joined the group.
"Afraid so Commander, as well as these records but I'm not sure what we can find on them that could be useful." Ford nodded, thinking.
"Okay, Lucas I want you to start digging into the method of payment, see if you can figure out a paper trail. You can use this communication post as an uplink to the SeaQuest if you need any extra information." Lucas nodded. "Ortiz, you're going to take Tim here to get his first spider web tattoo. See if you can somehow get records for that type of style. Maybe we can find our muscle man that way. I'm going to hit the local pubs and see whether or not our suspects are regulars. We'll meet back at the shuttle no later than twenty-three hundred hours. Okay?"
"Aye sir." O'Neil replied, the other two nodded and then Ortiz threw his arm over Tim's taller shoulder.
"Come on language man, let's make you a bad boy." Tim simply shook his head in foreboding.
(()Q())
Lying there hurt. It hurt so much that he wasn't sure how to react. He was never sure of exactly how he should react, story of his life, but now he was hurting and it wasn't all physical. The metal table as cold as ice on his naked body was beginning to freeze his insides. He hoped it would freeze his heart so it could stop, and he could stop being here in soul. The problem was that as much as he hated this, the idea of leaving his body here to be mutilated by who knows what and for how long was just as repulsive as being around. So he lay here, face down, arms spread to the side and strapped in place, his naked body on view for the scientist and who knew how many assistants to gaze at and poke at and violate in any way they chose.
It was the same as the last time, with the UEO, though they hadn't felt the need to dunk him in a warm water tank more than once. God that hurt and if he ever had the chance he'd return the favour, only he'd make the water scalding, warm water never bothered regular people. So all in all it was the same as last time, same tests, imprisonment, humiliation, probing and relentlessly curious scientists, small tanks he'd be locked in for days on end. It never ended. And it was the same as last time, so why did he feel so much worse?
He'd had a long time to analyze the emotions he'd been feeling and why they soared to such increased levels. A long time of waiting between tests, of nights when he couldn't sleep and they didn't notice. It was difficult to fool them into thinking you were asleep, with all the monitors attached to him, when they knew he was awake they'd sedate him. It was no good if their lab rat wasn't getting its required dose of REM cycle. He was so sick of drugs and becoming so used to them he occasionally questioned his judgements on his surroundings. Thankfully they'd performed the last drug test the day before, now they were branching into the more molecular part of the study, as if they hadn't been working on it from the beginning. He wanted to spit at them, but his head was pretty much plastered to the metal slab. They didn't like it when he struggled.
So this trip around the lab was worse then the last one for several obvious reasons, but he knew what to expect. After all he'd done it before. Even the first time, the moment he'd been caught he'd known what to expect. He understood people, the way they ticked, their curiosity that made them question and examine everything to death. It would be the death of him if they weren't careful. Knowing his fate had helped him over come it, kept him motivated to live, to get back to the ocean, to freedom.
And in all of his self-reflection he'd finally realized why this hurt so much more than it should. It was difficult to understand at first. He'd had his ocean to motivate him, his animals to talk to, what more motivation could he possibly need. Then he'd remembered that while he had all of that he didn't have what he wanted the most, and that was a friend. As cheesy as it sounded Tony Piccolo (adopted name created in self good taste) wanted somebody that wasn't a fish or whale to talk to. He wanted a human friend, his closest relative in species. And why not? It was lonely patrolling the oceans, and he'd never, ever come across another of his kind. Not at all in the last one hundred and fifty years.
Now, now he had those friends, those human friends. And he missed them, and that was why this was worse than last time, because before when he escaped he had his craved freedom, and no one to share it with. Now he had people to share it with, and they didn't even know that he cared. Wasn't he something? The ringleader of a school of clown fish.
He felt his arms and neck finally release from their bonds, and he pulled his arms under his chest, slowly pushing his body up and swinging his legs over the side. Now with his butt experiencing frostbite he practically growled at an assistant as he carefully handed him a set of those stringy clingy shorts. He stood and slipped them on, not feeling any less naked with the minor coverage it provided.
"Get the swabs to the lab and begin analysis."
"I thought this was the lab." Tony found himself replying offhandedly, a reflex retort from years of practice. He watched as the assistant left with the bag full of individually wrapped q-tip things. They'd gone all out this time, taking skin cell swabs from every part of his body as opposed to one section. He frowned as he watched the man leave. He'd just been in the water for the longest period of time since his arrival, no doubt they were increasing the submersion time to see the different affects. He just hoped they hadn't yet reached the cellular point where his lower body began to rapidly develop skin cells and his fin formed. How much fun would he not have if that happened?
"Very good Tony, I see your time in the water hasn't dulled your perception." The doctor sniped, signing some form on a clipboard.
"Only my complexion I'm afraid. Any trip to some real ultra violet rays in the making? Oh wait, I forgot that this wasn't a vacation. How silly of me, as a prisoner I get confused with the hospitality of this place." The bald doctor gave a snitty grin and simply nodded in response to the guard that was Tony's escort, who subsequently pulled his arms behind his back and placed restraints on him. Tony didn't bother wasting any energy on fighting, he knew he couldn't get out of the complex in this situation.
However today, as he was led out of the sterile lab and away from the table of death, he immediately realized that there was only one guard instead of two. Interesting.
"Hey Tweedle Dee? Where's Tweedle Dumb today?" The man who was dressed entirely in a dark blue and snug jumpsuit complete with a badge on the shoulder glanced at him and kept walking. Tony's bare feet slapped on the ground as he walked beside his guard, he made an effort to be loud. He started humming an extremely off tune version of "You Ain't nothing But a Hound Dog," One of the King's best. Now, considering the irresponsibly long distance it was from the particular lab they just left to the tank section, he managed to get on the man's nerves in under thirty seconds. A new record.
"Quiet."
"Or what? You'll turn me over to science?" He saw the mans jaw set in annoyance but he didn't reply. So they kept walking along the winding corridor and he kept humming off tune. They rounded a corner and he caught the tail end of a man disappearing behind one of the anonymous doors, and it looked like he'd been pushing a wheelbarrow. Tony wrinkled his sensitive nose to the faint but still disgusting odour. Feces. He noticed the guard had stiffened and glared worriedly at the door a moment before resetting his calm and collected façade, not slowing his pace in the slightest.
Tony grinned to himself and continued humming as though he hadn't noticed the man and what he presumed a slip-up. He had never, not once, seen anybody in the halls during these transfer walks, nor had he ever been given any hint of what was behind the doors. Probably because they were afraid he'd learn some information that could lead to his escape. He hummed and shot a glance at the guard, seeing him relaxed. Another point to note, Tweedle Dee was relaxed around him. Good.
They finally reached another door, the guard placed his thumb in the sensor spot and it slipped silently open, revealing a small passageway along the side of a glass tank. Tony glanced into it and frowned. A rock in the centre, some short seaweed patches flowing around it. The dirt covered grown was covered in little glittering rocks illuminated by purposely placed light beams that were probably meant to mimic the sun. He also noticed a current. His frown deepened as they reached its back where stairs led to a platform at the top. There were, of course, three other guards waiting to assist him into the tank. How thoughtful.
"Mr. Minor has some company today. He felt you would provide some decent entertainment." The guard gloated seeing his discomfort. Tony glared at him but refrained from comment.and then he had an idea. Or at least the beginning of one. When the guards began moving towards him, expecting his usual struggle he sighed resignedly and hoped to paste a look of defeat on his face before he simply turned and began trudging up the stairs, by his own accord. For a moment he could sense their shock, and then two of them scrambled up after him. Reaching the top they cautiously removed his restraints, warily waiting for some kind of attack. Instead Tony simply turned and dove elegantly into the tank, heading straight to the bottom where he slouched against the rock and stared morbidly at his feet.
A moment later he felt the slight vibration of the thick glass lid moving into place above him, sealing him in until it was once again removed. He saw the blurry shapes of the guards standing on the other side of the glass, watching him a moment before disappearing. Tony restrained his satisfied grin, knowing that that was the first step in letting them think he'd finally accepted being their prisoner. Now he had time to plot, and a plan of escape began to form.