<USS Avalon> "Perfect"

Perfect
 
 
 
        He found the file he was looking for, and  began to read. The rumors 
must have some merit, he mused, noting that  beyond her psychological profile 
(which was always eyes-only for counselors,  CMO's, CO's and XO's, as well as 
the individual in question), there were two  sections that had been classified 
by Starfleet Command. Most interesting of the  two was her entire medical 
history, and he wondered just what it was about the  girl that would prompt 
Starfleet to take such action. The other classified piece  was the official 
transcript of her arrest and subsequent  court-martial.
        No worries. Using appropriated access codes,  he deftly pressed a few 
keys, and the information became immediately  available.
        Ah. Now this was very interesting... 
        In fact, it was perfect.
 
*****
        He sat alone in the bar, watching his quarry  with a mildly 
disinterested look on his face. No one knew, of course, that he  was there to 
watch 
anyone. That was the point.
        For a fraction of a second, he was startled  when a small device 
attached to his hip began to vibrate. It almost never did,  at least not while 
he 
was working. He was skilled enough that his superiors  saved contact for 
sending him out, and the only time he contacted them was to  file his reports 
or to 
request assistance, the latter of which happened so  rarely as to be almost 
never. The sudden vibration of his  communicator was out of place enough to 
have rattled him.
        But only for a second.
        He got up from the bar, finishing his own  drink in one large 
swallow. The subject would stay for hours, he knew---it was  his habit---so he 
felt 
no worry that leaving would be a problem. 
        He waited until he was alone back in his  hotel room and had scanned 
the room for any listening devices before raising his  communicator to his 
lips.
        "Chameleon."
        "Chameleon, we've another assignment for  you. You are to immediately 
report to..."
        The one called Chameleon listened intently,  filing the information 
he was being given away in his mind. 
        "Full details have been sent to your  terminal. Your current 
assignment will be placed in another's charge. Good  luck."
        Replacing the communicator on his belt, he  walked over to the table 
and switched on the portable terminal he had brought  with him. 
        Read the file. 
        Packed up his things. 
        And left.

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