Chapter 4: Cloak (Part One)
At department meetings that afternoon, Olivia had much on her mind. Too much.
Her thoughts were everywhere but on the matters at hand. Not that she felt the matters at hand were particularly important - mundane things like allocation of resources, staff scheduling, recent developments, and so on. Things she delegated to her assistant - Steve - who was here himself. But still, as chief medical officer, her presence, and unfortunately, her input, was required.
"Dr Hernandez!" Solkan nearly shouted. "Do you have anything to add?"
Oh shoot. Add to what? She realized she'd hardly been paying attention to anything that was going on.
He cleared his throat impatiently.
"No. I have nothing to add." At times, she wondered if he tried to irritate her on purpose.
Solkan and the rest of the blue shirts in the room continued their mindless drawl as Olivia mentally reviewed her plans for the rest of the evening. She was off duty unusually early today, due to these meetings, and she had nearly as much to do as she had on her mind. It was going to be a busy, long day. She needed to speak to T'Kara before her usual run with Thelis, then had a meeting later with Staci LaVena, all three of which she had spent the entire morning preparing herself for. And then, as much as she did not like to, she needed to put a note in Dantarea's file. The biosciences intern had been putting some very promising effort into her research recently ...
Chairs were scraping against the floor, people shuffling around, and everyone around the room began getting up. Finally, she thought, heading for the door as fast as she could.
Someone suddenly touched her shoulder. Startled, she stiffened and turned around, finding Steve. "What do you want?" she asked.
He sighed, looking sad or perhaps disappointed for a brief moment. But he smiled at her, and asked, "I was wondering, when you're off duty tonight, if you'd like to come see a holonovel with me, maybe have dinner afterwards?"
"I have a meeting tonight. I'm not free."
"Oh, well, how about tomorrow?"
The reality of what he had asked slowly sank in ... he was asking her on a date. "I'm busy tomorrow also," she finally said, shaking her head. "Maybe you can find someone else who can go with you?"
Without waiting for any answer, she walked out of the room, leaving Steve standing there speechless.
Late that afternoon, Commander Thelis and Olivia were warming up in the ship's gym for their near-daily run together.
"I think T'Lea and Kareb are avoiding me, Thelis," Olivia told him.
"I can't imagine why," he replied, stretching down to touch his feet.
"We're on the same ship, and I haven't so much as seen them since last night."
He sighed.
"I just don't understand why ..."
He cut her off. "Olivia."
"What?"
"Yes, of course they're avoiding you. Because you keep bugging them after they've declined your offer. Repeatedly. And you sent T'Kara after them, as well."
"With good reason."
"Olivia, just let it go. We'll be to Vulcan tomorrow morning. Then you won't have to worry about them any more."
The doors opened and they started jogging down the corridor.
"I can't just let it go. This is important."
"Olivia, do you even hear yourself? If they refuse, they refuse. That's their right. You can't just keep after them forever!"
"Alright," he said, "enough about that. I doubt I can ever convince you of anything. Just tell me what you were going to tell me about Solkan."
She nodded. "Last night, he and Calais both contacted Hanson again, within an hour of each other."
"Do you know what was said?"
"No, I just know that there was contact. The data stream was encrypted, as usual. I still haven't been able to break through, even though it seems they've used the same group of encryption codes each time."
"That's alright. Just keep at it, Olivia."
"The problem is, I'm a surgeon, not a spy. We need someone good at this on our side."
"Well, I'll try to reconstruct whatever I can from the data logs, see if I can figure anything out."
"It won't work. Solkan wiped everything just minutes after the calls."
"From both him and Calais?"
"Yes. Everything."
"Great. They always have to cover their tracks, don't they? Maybe I should see what the Captain can do. I can have him alerted directly next time they make contact ..."
"You can try, but I think they're using diplomatic encryption codes, so even the Captain's codes won't override them. They know he's on our side."
"Great."
They broke into a full run.
"I think Solkan knows what we're doing," Olivia said between breaths.
"He has for a while." Thelis' antennae relaxed. "Really, you don't make things any better by aggravating him."
"Aggravating him?"
"Not paying attention in department meetings - when you're a department head, Olivia. You should know better."
"How did you find out?"
"It's sort of my job to know these things. Just because I wasn't there doesn't mean I can't find out."
"So he complained?"
"Yeah. To the Captain. Even after three years, he still won't do what he's supposed to and come to me about stuff like that."
"He does not like you." She laughed, panting.
"You'd think a Vulcan wouldn't hold a grudge ... being un-emotional and all." He paused to breathe. "Really, though, you need to pay attention during department meetings, Olivia."
"Do you know what Steve did?"
"Other than show up late? You told me that already."
"I think ... he tried to ask me on a date!"
"Tried to? You think? You didn't turn him down, did you?"
"Of course I did!"
"Wha ... Olivia!" He stopped in his tracks, shaking his head.
She slowed and turned back towards him. "I'm not interested in him, so I turned him down. I'm already taken!"
"By a man who died ten years ago, Olivia! Ten years ago! It's time to move on!"
She turned away, tears inexplicably threatening to come. She squeezed her eyes shut, then sprinted as fast as she could away from Thelis. Away from her problems. Away from everything she still couldn't face.
When she was not far down the hall, her combadge beeped. "LaVena to Hernandez," Staci's voice said.
Not wanting Thelis to catch up to her, she slowed only to a fast jog and answered. "Go ahead, Staci."
"Hey, I've got a question."
"Yes?" She was feeling pretty out of breath now.
"I'm wondering if we can cancel our meeting tonight? I kind of have a date."
"You should not have scheduled recreational activities when you knew you had this meeting coming up."
"It wasn't planned ... Steve just asked me to dinner and a holonovel with him, and I didn't give him an answer yet. I wanted to check with you first, and ... well ... I'd really like to."
Steve ... asked her on a date? She was shocked, she hadn't expected this. "Uh ..." She didn't know what to say. Not only did she hate unexpected changes to her plans, but ... Steve ...
"If - if it's not okay, Dr. Hernandez, I guess I can tell him I can't do it. I don't know if I'd get another chance, but ... you know."
She picked up her pace again, her head now filled with all kinds of unexpected emotions. Strangely, what prevailed was anger towards Steve. "No, I don't know. Just go on your date, we will have our meeting tomorrow."
"Are you sure?" Staci asked. "I mean, you sound a little ..."
This conversation couldn't end soon enough. "If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have said that."
"Oh, well, okay. Thanks, Olivia."
"Whatever. Dr. Hernandez out."
Why was she angry at Steve? And Staci, for that matter? No, she couldn't be falling for him, she decided. All this confusion was simply because she hadn't slept well the past few nights, and she was letting herself get too wrapped up in all these emotions.
After all, she was already taken. And no one could ever take his place. Ever.
Leaving the Operations department meeting in a crowd of people, Ensign Newlin felt like someone was following her.
It was silly, of course, that she would feel that way with so many people leaving at once, and each of them going their own way ... but she still couldn't shake the feeling.
It had been this way ever since she'd been recruited by Section 31. She'd accepted their offer for the action, the excitement, but all she ever did now was look over her shoulder to ensure no one was watching her.
As she rounded the bend by Sickbay, she thought she heard footsteps behind her.
It was quite unlikely, she reasoned, that anyone was truly behind her, because she was taking the long route to her room, taking the turbolift down by senior officers' quarters, going past Sickbay ... they'd have to be taking the same indirect path to wherever they were going, too.
A large, male hand suddenly grasped her shoulder. She gasped, but didn't turn around. She felt the familiar sensation that the being who touched her was at least marginally telepathic.
Commander Solkan, she thought. She finally looked, and found she was right.
"Tommorrow morning, we will arrive at Vulcan," he said, hushed and in a deep voice. "I noticed you are on duty in the transporter room at that time."
"Yes, sir," she said uneasily.
"Our guests, T'Lea and Kareb, will be departing." His volume dropped a few levels, and, one hand still on her shoulder, leaned closer to her face. "I want you to delay them with some 'routine maintenance.'"
"I'll be informed of their departure ahead of time, sir." She fought to keep her voice from wavering. "Any routine maintenance will be expected to wait."
"You will detect a problem in your normal daily scans, something that requires attention before they can transport. It will necessitate the scheduled procedure to not be put off, but be performed immediately. The data logs will support this if anyone cares to question it." He fingered a lock of her hair.
"How long before their departure will this 'problem' appear?"
"One hour."
She could feel his warm breath on her ear.
"The nature of the problem will make itself known to you tomorrow morning," he said. She wondered if he had sensed telepathically what she was about to ask. "It is not necessary for you to know tonight."
She nodded, and just as abruptly as he had come up behind her and grabbed her shoulder, his hand fell back to his side and he walked away, facing straight ahead, as if nothing at all had just happened.
She sighed, having more questions than answers.
Such was life in Section 31.
Exhausted and craving the sleep she had not gotten for the past few nights, Olivia slid under her covers, ready for the warmth to envelop her and let her fall into a peaceful sleep.
But as she turned off the lights, it felt like her mind turned on.
A thousand thoughts, frustrations, and worries rushed at her at once, demanding to be processed by her conscious mind before she could sleep. They just would not wait until REM sleep to surface.
She tried to lay still, to force herself to focus on sleep, but her mind rebelled and her body followed. She was soon tossing, turning, the dull ache of exhaustion making it impossible to get comfortable but demanding a comfortable position all the same.
It had been years since she'd had this much trouble sleeping, she thought. And for more than just one night. It had started the first night T'Lea came aboard. There had been that conversation with Steve, bringing up things better left alone. And their middle-of-the-night meeting with Kareb. What was it about her, about her life, that was drawing her in so bad?
Ah, but there was no time to figure that out now. She needed sleep, and badly. Last time she'd gone without any sleep for days, she'd started having seizures again. And, of course, the powers that be at Starfleet Medical clamped down on her and put her on a 6-month probation from doing any surgeries ... something they would certainly do again if she continued on the course she was on.
Of course, this was something both T'Kara and Steve wouldn't hesitate to remind her about if they knew she wasn't sleeping well. And the readings from her neurocortical monitor were readily available to those charged with her "health," both physical and mental. She sometimes wished she didn't have to work with them every day.
And Steve ... What was he thinking today?! What right had he to ask her out like that? He knew she wasn't interested ...
Or was she?
Olivia pushed that thought back to wherever it came from. She wasn't. She was not interested in Steve.
But that he had the gall to turn right around and ask Staci ...
Then again, hadn't she told him, "Maybe you can find someone else to go with you?"
Why did she even care that he asked Staci? That was great, all the better for them both, right?
Olivia sighed forcefully. Thinking about this wasn't helping her get to sleep.
But Steve ...
She growled and threw the covers off. This was ridiculous. There was no way she'd ever get to sleep if she kept going like this. As much as she hated to, she knew it was time to seek medicinal help.
She glanced at the chronometer on her way out the door, hoping it was late enough that no one would be around to see her wandering through the ship in her pajamas. She didn't like people to see her in her pajamas.
She padded her way through the halls to Sickbay unnoticed. Steve's liable to be there, she thought. Maybe I'd better go to the upper level.
Changing course, Olivia headed for the nearest turbolift that would take her up to deck 6, to the small surgical/intensive care suite. She could sneak in there without Steve seeing her ... she hoped.
She entered her access number into the panel by the door and it opened with a swish. Olivia stepped backwards, even though she knew no one in the main part of Sickbay below could hear through the protective transparent aluminum walls.
The replicator prompted her for an access code and patient name. Reluctantly, she typed in her own name. The empty list of known medications and interactions popped up, along with a single medical condition, described as an "abnormality of the thalamo-cortical loop resulting in infrequent non-convulsive generalized seizures."
The description she had written herself, many years ago, before she had really been comfortable telling anyone in Starfleet that she had epilepsy.
When prompted, she entered the name of the medication and the dose she wanted, and it replicated a small vial filled with the slightly yellow liquid. She found a hypospray in the drawers and snapped the vial into place.
Pressing the tip over her right jugular vein, she pressed the button, and it delivered the contents in a short, mildly painful burst.
She quickly returned the hypospray to its drawer, and put the empty vial back on the replicator to be recycled. She knew from past experience that she had less than ten minutes until it would take effect.
Olivia quietly made her way back to her quarters, where she crawled under the covers, and, after a few minutes finally fell asleep.
Sickbay's doors swished open to reveal the cacophony of five critically ill patients awaiting her attention. She passed from one bed to the next, reading preliminary scan results, taking mental notes. One: ruptured cerebral aneurysm. Still conscious but falling fast. Two: fifty-nine percent burned, third and forth degree. Plasma burns. Degree of airway involvement unknown. Three: just brought in by security. Very aggressive and agitated, cause unknown. Consider psychiatric as well as medical causes. Fourth: impaled through lower lobe of left lung. Hemopneumothorax, cyanotic. Close to shock. Fifth: generalized convulsive seizure, unknown cause. Apparently been seizing since before they were brought in four minutes ago. Should be considered status epilepticus.
Triage, her head told her, but, save for the third, they all needed her equally. It was chaos.
At the first bed, she read the results of the latest scan. Blood was flowing into the subarachnoid space, and her patient had just lost consciousness. Elevated blood pressure and some cardiac arrhythmias. She was showing signs of nuchal rigidity, suggesting initial onset of subarachnoid hemorrhage at six hours prior ...
As she set the curved vascular regenerator on the patient's forehead, Olivia grabbed the patient's thumbnail and squeezed. She opened her eyes and pulled her hand away. Good, Olivia thought. No abnormal posturing. Still comatose, though, GCS 2-1-4.
Making sure the vascular regenerator was doing its job, she turned around to face her next patient.
"Doctor - " he called out in a raspy voice.
She scanned him. Minor respiratory involvement due to breathing super-heated air. Rapid, shallow respirations, tachycardia, hypotension, narrowing pulse pressure. Hypovolemic shock.
A dermal regenerator would do no good for him, as there was little dermis left to regenerate.
Olivia turned suddenly. There was someone there, in the shadows, someone lurking, up to no good. She suppressed a shudder and continued on.
Another doctor came up behind her and began treating the burn patient, so she moved along to the fourth. The third behind her shouted incoherently at the security personnel beside him.
It looked like she had been impaled with a pipe or conduit, perhaps related to the the same incident as her second patient was involved in? Her breathing was very shallow, fast, labored, and she was displaying the signs of the first stages of shock. Every breath was agony. She was very pale, and her lips and nail beds were already very blue.
Olivia walked to the other side of her patient's bed to see the exit wound. She was lucky, the pipe had missed her spinal canal by more than an inch, but the destruction of her left lung was severe, and she had several fractured ribs. Judging by her emotional state, though, her brain was starting to suffer from lack of oxygen.
Just out of sight, that shadowy figure moved closer. What did he want with her, she wondered, with her patients? No one else seemed to pay him any mind.
Olivia scanned her patient. There was no known damage to the aorta or other major blood vessels. Of all her patients, she perhaps had the best chance.
Olivia noted that her fifth patient was still seizing. Damn, she thought. It's been too long ...
The fourth patient started to cough ... coughing up blood. Agony, Olivia thought, and the word repeated itself in her mind. She grabbed a hypospray with bloody hands and realized she wasn't wearing gloves.
Somewhere in the room, a metal object clattered to the floor. Olivia jumped and turned to look, and found the shadowy figure much closer than before. She quickly administered the spray to her patient, then began on the fifth.
Scans on the fifth indicated no infectious diseases, no brain tumors, no traumatic injury, no swelling of the brain, no infarctions, no bleeding, no drug use or abuse ...
What else? she thought. What else can be causing this? She ran another scan, and all blood sugar, electrolyte, and other chemical levels were well within normal range for someone who had been seizing for the past ten minutes. Damn.
She grabbed another hypospray, noted her hands were still bloody, and shot it into his neck. She waited. No response.
Two beds over, her third patient suddenly vomited blood. She cocked her head and ran through a list of possibilities as she administered another dose to her status patient.
The shadow was right behind her, less than a foot. She could hear him breathing.
No response to medication from patient number five. Refractory status epilepticus. Damn, damn, damn ...
Olivia felt something at her neck. She started to whirl around to face the shadow, but suddenly felt very faint, and fell to her knees.
As she stared into her bloodied hands, the rest of the room faded around her, and she was struck with the realization that none of her patients would be saved.
Slowly, she fell backwards towards the floor ...
Olivia found herself awake, staring wide-eyed at the darkness around her. Her heartrate was slightly elevated, but not pounding. She looked around, disquieted, uneasy. She felt like there should be someone waiting, lurking in the shadows. Had what she just experienced been a dream, or reality? Had he brought her here to her quarters before she regained consciousness?
No, she thought. I went to Sickbay earlier, took 5 cc's of dylamazine, came back here ...
One of the side effects of this medication was unusually vivid, strange dreams. And the more nights she had gone without substantial sleep, the more unsettling her dreams naturally were.
"Damn," she said aloud. I wanted to know what was wrong with the third.
Looking around the darkest corners of the room again, she got the distinct feeling that she wasn't looking for just any shady figure, but for a very specific one. Solkan.
Why him? she wondered. He's never tried to keep me from saving anyone. He never even comes in to Sickbay! So why do I think he's the shadow guy?
Forget it. Time to go to sleep.
This section is pictures only. This story *is* designed to be a simstory, with pictures.
To view it as such, assemble the following:
moonlightdragon *dot* freeforums *dot* O-R-G
/chapter-4-cloak-part-one-t859 *dot* html
Else, here is the description.
Original dream from chapter two: 1) she walks in from the hall, 2) finds her fiance dying, 3) kneels down next to him. 4) They carry his body away on an anti-grav thing as she watches in the background.
Second: 1) she walks in from the hall, wearing her wedding dress and carrying a bouquet, 2) finds her fiance bleeding, dying, 3) sits next to him, getting blood on herself and her dress, 4) they take his body away, she watches, wearing her bloody wedding dress.
Third: 1) they stand together in the empty room, she is in her dress, 2) she calmly watches, holding her bouquet, as he is holding a knife, bleeding, 3) she sits on the floor, in her dress, holding his hand, he is bleeding everywhere, like before, 4) they take his body away as she watches
Fourth: 1) she enters the room from the hall, in her regular uniform again, 2) she shoots him with a phaser, 3) she stands over him, holding her phaser, watching as he bleeds out, 4) she watches as they take his body away
Fifth: 1) in uniform, she walks into the Taurus' sickbay, 2) she approaches Steve, who sits on one of the biobeds, blood on the wall behind him, 3) she shoots Steve with a phaser, he is bleeding, 4) up-close of Steve, dead, blood covering him, eyes rolled back in his head.
Olivia screamed. She screamed until she was gasping for breath, shaking, sobbing, nauseous. She rocked herself back and forth, tears streaming down her face, crying "I killed him ... I killed him ... I killed him ..."
T'Kara's words came to mind, words she had told Olivia many times before. She'd said Olivia wasn't responsible for his death, that it was not her fault, that she'd done what she could. But T'Kara, and all the other counselors she'd had to talk to, knew nothing! He was dead because Olivia had failed, because she hadn't seen it coming, because she hadn't been there soon enough, because she couldn't save him!
She was a doctor, damn it, and she hadn't even been able to save her own fiancee!
How many times had she said she loved him? How many times had she assured him he was safe with her? How many? Not enough!
If she had just tried harder, maybe he would have had a fighting chance, maybe he wouldn't have given up!
And now ... Steve ...
She couldn't bear for it to happen again.
What was it that T'Kara had said, about not being able to let go? Why she still could not take off his ring, after ten years? But why should she let go?
Was it so she could be "free" to pursue other men? Was it so she could live a "fuller" life? Was it so she could forget her past and move on?
She would never forget him! He had been the world to her. He had meant everything. To simply ... discard ... his memory so she could continue her life was ... impossible. Even ten years later, he still had her heart, had everything of her. And she would let nothing, no one, take him away from her again.
Exhausted and sweating , she crawled out of bed and collapsed against the side of it on the floor. The nausea from earlier had subsided once she calmed herself down a little. But she still felt drained, empty.
Slowly, she laid down on the floor, and surrendered to the exhaustion. There was really no use fighting now.
Sleep claimed her quickly.
"Sickbay to Dr. Hernandez."
Olivia groaned. Where ...
"Sickbay to Dr. Hernandez."
She groaned again and tried to sit up, but her back complained sharply.
"Dr. Hernandez!"
"What?!"
"Olivia, where are you?" Steve snapped. "Your shift started fifteen minutes ago!"
"Damn!" she exclaimed. "Damn ... damn it!" She looked at the chronometer.
Despite the pain from sleeping on the floor, she jumped up and threw on her uniform as fast as she could. She barely had her shoes on when she ran out the door.
Sickbay's doors opened to Steve, standing arms crossed, waiting for her.
"It's about time."
"I - I'm - "
"You're the Chief Medical Officer, and this is the kind of example you set?"
"I'm never late!"
"Today you are! Twenty minutes!"
"I - "
"We talked about lateness in the department meeting yesterday, Olivia. The meeting that -"
"That, as I recall, you were late to."
"It's the only thing you recall about the meeting, too."
"I was - "
"I know you haven't been having seizures, Olivia, so you have no excuse. You weren't paying any attention at all."
"What business is it of yours what I was doing during the meeting?"
"So I suppose I should follow your example now, huh?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Now, I've had a long night, so I'd be more than grateful if you'd let me get out of here in a timely manner."
"You've had a long night?"
"Yes, I have. I've actually been working, not spending the night wandering around sickbay in my pajamas."
Olivia felt herself blush, and hid her face.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to go get some sleep."
"Go."
"Thank you," he said with more than a touch of sarcasm, and walked out.
"We should be arriving at Vulcan in approximately two hours, Captain."
"Any sign of a message from them yet, Ensign?"
"Negative, sir. Nothing from Vulcan."
"Any sign that their communications may be down, anything?"
"No sir, plenty of activity there. Just ... none for us."
"That's odd."
"Do you think something's wrong, sir?"
"Wrong?" He paused, thinking. "It's as if they aren't expecting us. We bring home two of their diplomats, and you'd think they'd expect us ..."
"Did Starfleet ever inform them that we would be the ones bringing them home?" Solkan asked.
"I - I suppose I don't know."
"Don't worry yourself, then, Captain. Worry is illogical when you don't have all the necessary facts."
"I suppose you're right."
One hour later
"Ensign Newlin to the Captain."
"Go ahead, Ensign."
"Sir, we've had a slight malfunction with the transporters, it'll require a few minor repairs before we can use them again."
"What sort of malfunction?"
The phase transition coils are out of alignment. It should only take an hour or two to fix."
"We're less than an hour away from Vulcan, Ensign. Do what you have to, but make it quick."
"Dropping out of warp for arrival at Vulcan, sir."
"Standard orbit. Alert me if they hail us."
"Yes, sir."
"Ensign Newlin, how's the transporter coming?"
"It's coming, Captain. But it might be another fifteen to thirty minutes."
Andersen sighed. "Solkan, you're coming with me. Thelis, you have the bridge."
Once in the turbolift, Solkan turned to the Captain. "Where, precisely, are we going?"
"You are going down to the transporter room to see what's going on, to help the Ensign if you can. I am going to inform T'Lea and Kareb of our current situation."
Solkan nodded slightly. This was going exactly as planned.
They exited the turbolift on Deck 7, just between Sickbay and Transporter Room 2.
"Captain," he began, "perhaps - "
Thelis' voice interrupted him. "Captain, we're being hailed."
"Good. We're just past sickbay, route it down there. Solkan, you go ahead and talk to T'Lea and Kareb. Apologize to them for me, will you?"
"Yes, Captain." This was going even better than planned.
"Good morning, Doctor."
Olivia barely looked up from her lab work to greet the Captain.
"If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said, "I need to borrow one of your lab screens."
"Go ahead."
Andersen recognized the Vulcan woman that appeared as Admiral T'Rena, one of the Vulcans' top brass. "I apologize for the delay, Admiral," he said.
"It is of no matter, Captain ..."
"Andersen, USS Taurus."
"What can we do for you, Captain Andersen?"
"Do? We're returning your ambassadors - T'Lea and Kareb - "
"I apologize, Captain -" She began, but stopped short. "For the inconvenience. Had it been possible, we would have sent for them ourselves."
"Of course," he said. "It's no problem."
"It is gracious of you to allow me to talk to you before you leave," Solkan said as he stood in the doorway of T'Lea and Kareb's quarters.
T'Lea motioned him towards a chair.
"The Captain and I were a bit ... concerned ... that no one on Vulcan seemed aware of our arrival. It seemed a bit unusual for ambassadors such as yourselves to have such a ... quiet entrance."
"There is no cause for concern, Commander. T'Lea and I are no longer ambassadors, we have retired. We are simple stellar cartographers with a background in diplomatic service. From time to time our knowledge is requested, especially in such 'unofficial' situations as the one on Cirtri."
"Your 'knowledge?'"
"Of diplomatic affairs and communication."
"Or your services?"
"What are you implying, Commander?"
"I am not implying anything, Ambassador. I am simply asking a question."
"We do not have any 'service' that we offer. We bring our knowledge into a situation where it is requested, that is all."
"Then perhaps you would be interested in another 'situation' - "
"I apologize, Commander, but we only operate through regular channels."
" - a sharing of knowledge, as it may be."
"What knowledge would we possibly have, that would interest an individual, a Commander in Starfleet? And what kind of knowledge do you believe we would be interested in from you?"
Under her breath, T'Lea whispered, "A Lieutenant Commander."
"We have a lot in common, you know. There are things we could accomplish ... which could not be done alone."
"We are stellar cartographers and independent consultants. You are a Starfleet officer. What you 'accomplish,' and what we 'accomplish,' are in entirely different realms. What is it that you want from us?"
"What do I want? Information, knowledge, just like you do."
"We could arrange for you to be enrolled in diplomatic services training on Vulcan, if that is your wish."
"You retired eight years ago, yet you still have full access, don't you?"
"Access to what?"
"And you regularly attend sensitive 'diplomatic' meetings and negotiations. You dine with leaders from throughout the quadrant. You -"
"If that were the case, we would not share such confidential information with anyone in Starfleet, especially one so low in the chain of command."
"You have a such a degree of autonomy, that you never had before you retired -"
Solkan's communicator beeped, nearly catching him off guard. "Solkan here."
"Transporter room reports ready, sir," spoke the voice of Ensign Newlin.
"Thank you, Ensign."
Before he could speak again, his combadge sounded a second time. "Solkan here."
"Transporters are back online, no further problems," the Captain said. "Meet me in five minutes?"
"Aye, sir."
"Back online?" Kareb said.
"We had some maintenance that took slightly longer than expected."
"We appreciate having been informed, Commander," he replied, voice dripping with as much sarcasm as his perfect Vulcan demeanor could muster.
Standing in Transporter Room Two, Kareb handed a PADD back to Ensign Newlin, transport coordinates entered.
"Are you sure these are correct, Ambassador?"
"I know my own home planet, Ensign. Those are the correct coordinates." He stepped up onto the pad, and T'Lea followed.
Without the normal formalities expected from a departing Ambassador and the Captain who hosted him, Kareb simply inclined his head towards the Captain and said, "It was agreeable seeing you again, Captain."
T'Lea, having been silent since before they entered the room, finally spoke up. "Give our 'regards' to your parents."
"I will."
Kareb lifted his hand, giving the traditional Vulcan farewell. Then, with a shimmer of light, the couple dematerialized.
"What was their destination?" asked Solkan.
"A small city in the northwestern continent, population approximately -"
"In other words, not the capital city."
"Yes, sir. That is correct. It's not even a major metropolitan area."
"It's where they live, Solkan. They're going to the city where they live. The question is, why? Why is no one waiting for them, expecting their arrival?"
"Perhaps your earlier concerns may have been founded, Captain."