<USS Cervantes> One Last Swift Kick

One Last Swift Kick

Saskia Lar
Ashne'e Al Kiara

Saskia finished running the bone regenerator over Mallory's torso. "How's that?" He responded by taking a deep breath. He didn't wince once. "Good. Now I'd go back to my quarters, if I were you. And take it easy for a while."

"Yes, sir." The reply bore traces of Mallory's usual sarcasm, but his body language betrayed his gratefulness. He turned back just as the sickbay doors swished open in front of him. "Join me for some breakfast?"

"No, thanks. I'm not really hungry."

"Suit yourself."

Saskia replaced the tool in a drawer and sighed. Here was the moment she had dreaded for days. There was nothing left to do now except to stand here, alone with her thoughts. She'd rather take the desert. She sat in a nearby chair, her eyes sweeping over Iynx's fine collection of instruments, the calming gray of the walls. She wondered if, when all this was said and done, she would be finding herself back here again.

She decided to go check the sensor readings on the bridge.

The familiar humming of the bridge instruments greeted her as she stepped out of the turbolift. Empty. Good. It felt a bit like a sanctuary, always had, complete with the skylight at the very top of the ceiling through which every crewmember could, should he or she choose, see stars.

Right.

Saskia passed the tactical console. A light was blinking. Cervantes was being hailed by the Andorian ship. Saskia tapped on the comm link. "This is Lieutenant Saskia Lar of the USS Cervantes. To whom am I speaking?"

The visual connection kicked in. The Andorian who appeared before her was obviously angry. His teeth were bared, and his antennae were oscillating back and forth at a ridiculous speed. "What is the meaning of this?! Why is Starfleet interfering in claim rights on behalf of Andoria, as per Section 138567 A forms 82 and 83!"

Saskia's eyebrows raised. She straightened herself to full height and clasped her hands behind her back. "Forgive me, sir, but I was unaware that Andoria had any claim rights in this area. Would you mind giving me the name of the particular claim agreement to which you refer?"

The man seemed to turn a little green. "Are you accusing me of lying?"

"Of course not," Saskia replied, voice slightly raised. "I'm simply wondering if I missed mention of such a claim agreement during my mission briefing."

"How dare you accuse me of lying!" the Andorian protested loudly. His antennae had settled. At least she wasn't dealing with a stupid officer. This one had at least realized by now that, in poker terms, those blue protrusions were a clue to what he was holding. "I demand to know by what rights Starfleet has settled in this system without sending out the proper beacons and alerts! A merchant has no idea what he's traveling into under such conditions! A Starfleet vessel, and running silent nonetheless! I'll have you know we almost ran into you last night, you were putting off so little energy! And when we cut engines dead--you know what that does to the inertial dampeners on a spacecraft! We'll need numerous bars of latinum to fix the damage! And I haven't even mentioned the fact that not one, but two of our workers have back injuries?"

"Sir," Saskia interrupted, growing tired of the man's voice, "you can talk and talk until your face turns bluer. None of your words will negate the fact that Andoria possesses no rights to anything in this system."

The Andorian swelled indignantly. If only an officer could roll her eyes and still appear professional. "Of all the rude things! I am a merchant, not a liar! I am here to make a living, and if Starfleet has a problem with that, then they should discuss it with my superiors! I--" And then, without warning, the other shoe dropped. Saskia stared at the antennaed officer, her eyes the size of oranges focused on one unmistakable object in the corner of the screen.

"What is that?" she demanded, interrupting the officer's tirade.

"What?" There went the antennae, twitching. He knew he was in a corner. "That? Nothing, a present, something I was given by?"

Saskia cut him off again. "Owner of Andorian ship, registry 5014DEF, this is an official order from Starfleet. Pending investigation of legally protected artifacts, you will remain at your current position pending an official search."

"Search! But--"

"Cervantes out." Saskia cut off the transmission with a swift flick of her fingers. She stood in place for a moment, willing her breath to become even. Facts and ideas fell into place and connected as gently but as firmly as snowflakes on a field. This had all she had needed to see. The dead-yet-not-dead eyes of a Khefiraan girl and her lover, entwined in an embrace, staring back at her from the Andorian bridge.

Saskia walked over to the captain's chair, and hit the comm button. "Lar to Al Kiara."

The captain seemed vaguely surprised to hear her. "Yes, Lieutenant. What is it?"

"The other shoe, Captain," she replied. "To use a human expression. I think it may be the last one."












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