<USS Avalon> "The Recruit" Pt. 4 (Conclusion)

From: "Brad Ruder" <groundzero@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: avalon@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Date: Tue, 11 May 2004 14:30:49 -0700

(You may need to go back and read 'The Recruit' Pts. 1-3. They were written in August of 2003. I had waited for the time to finish them.)

“The Recruit” – The Conclusion
by Commander Javan Sierra

The amount of cadets in the room wasn’t a lot, but it was sufficient for a good lesson and a proper spectacle. As time progressed and the search for good operatives became harder and harder it was apparent that times were calling for more drastic measures. Javan couldn’t say he was proud of what he or the Section was doing, but like most things dealing with the ‘chain of command’ and the powers that be: it wasn’t his place to question. However, given the situation, he did feel attached to the young man who had nearly saved his life.

What was about to happen was bad. Javan could see that the tired eyes weren’t going to be fully open until the procedure started, but their eyelid would be forever opened by the shortcomings of one man. Eli Vanneer was going to be a good operative and Javan knew that. Sometimes, Javan surmised, it took more than a pat on the back and pointing to a regulation in a rulebook to quell an incident. Thankfully, the seductress was good at her job. Section 31 wasn’t lacking there.

The doors to the room hissed open and two men, clad in all black uniforms, pulled Eli Vanneer into the room and through him into the chair at the front of the observers. People started to chat with nervousness and several fingers were flicked in Eli’s direction. Javan stood back and away from the chair with his arms folded, his mouth in an obvious frown, and his posture rigid. The recruits didn’t know exactly what was happening, but they knew that something was wrong.

“What is going on?” A young man near the back right corner mentioned above the idle bantering. The boy was sharp as a tack. His instincts were right and Javan saw him rising the ranks quickly – if he could manage to survive The Grounds. The young man stood and made a fledgling movement towards the center of the room, but a girl’s hand shot out and pushed him back into the seat; she knew what she was doing as well. “Why is he restrained in that chair?”

Captain Thaddeus Adam stepped through a side door and moved to the front of the ‘class’ and stared them all into quieting. He had an imposing presence and Javan couldn’t remember a time in which a recruit – anyone for that matter – had stood up to him or questioned him. “Earlier today, or should I say yesterday, you were all given PADDs with highly important information on it. Do you remember that?”

They nodded.

“Do you remember what I told you letting others view that information?”

“Don’t,” a voice called out.

Adams nodded, “exactly. Now, as you know, four people in this room are operatives working for us against you. As you will recall, unless you’re all in a state of mental coma from exhaustion, your job is to find who they are. However, in that pursuit, Eli Vanneer overlooked the obvious tactic. He was sexually seduced and relinquished all of his information to his seducer – who will remain unnamed.”

A hum emanated from the machine and Eli’s face twisted with concern. His eyes searched high and low for the source of the sound, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on what it was. What he didn’t know was that he was about to experience something that was just a taste of what Section 31 could really do. “Wh-what’s going on?”

“You said you wanted to know what happened if your information was found out, Mr. Vanneer, you’re about to find out first hand. And do you remember what I said about that little experience?” Adams’ face became almost a mix of pure evil and pure enjoyment. Little side note about the man: he’d been involved with more tortures than anyone ever.

Eli swallowed, almost gulped, visibly, “you said, and I quote, ‘you don’t want that’. What are you going to do?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

A look of dread and despair passed over people in the crowd as a machine was pulled out from behind the chair in which Eli was restrained. Some people, who had backgrounds in medicine or interrogation, knew what the machine was and what it was used for. For the rest it was just an evil looking machine with an ominous vibrato. Some girls gasped and grabbed at their friends and others just covered their eyes.

“Prepare the patient, Mr. Sierra,” Adams instructed.

Not really wanting to, Javan had to fight to remember his duty and his obligation to providing good agents for the field. If the kid didn’t experience it now it would come back ten fold in the future and the consequences of releasing precious secrets would be disastrous to Starfleet and the Federation. Javan moved over in front of Eli who was shaking and protesting inaudibly.

Eli wasn’t crying as Javan had recalled some others doing before him, but his gaze was steady at the humming machine to the right of the chair. Eli’s eyes shifted to meet Javan’s and Javan’s Betazoid instincts took over. He felt the fear, he felt the horror, but most of all he felt the immense feeling of guilt. Guilt for what, Javan wasn’t certain, but he could only guess that it was letting the information out. “Javan, pl-pl-please don’t do this.”

In all actuality Javan didn’t want to, but he had to. “I’m sorry.” He really wasn’t.

“Mr. Sierra…”

Javan nodded absently and pulled Eli’s shirt from his body and draped it over a crossbar to his right. Javan pulled the machine’s extension out and placed it over Eli’s left arm. Eli tried to break free from his prison, but found it impossible. Javan leaned over and activated the machine and the high-pitched screeching soon followed.

With a slow motion Javan ran the instrument over his left arm. Everywhere the beam hit the skin turned a menacing shade of pink and a soft sizzling could be heard. Within moments of beginning the procedure the smell of burnt flesh could be deciphered in the air. Eli was gritting his teeth as Javan ran it up to his forearm and then onto his shoulder.

“Please! Stop!”

Flowing down his chest and over his left pectoral muscle and onto his stomach, Eli began to jerk and tear at his restraints with increasing passion. People in the crowd were beginning to cover their eyes and mouth obscenities while other’s kept their eyes open. The desensitizing of those select viewers would be easier and, before long, they’d be in Javan’s position.

Eli’s breathing became ragged and he grunted in pain and agony between breaths. Javan went back up the other side of his chest and then down his other arm. His entire upper body was a shade of pink that looked like undercooked hamburger. His lip was quivering, but Eli refused to cry. When the procedure was complete Javan locked the machine back into its position and turned off the humming and the screeching.

“Like I said, Mr. Vanneer,” Adams said as he crossed in front of him, “you wouldn’t want that.”

The entire crowd looked to Adams, their expressions blank.

“Don’t get caught.”

<USS Avalon> "The Recruit" Pt. 4 (Conclusion)

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