<USS Avalon> Protected and informed...or not...

From: Rowanna Darkwolf <rowannadarkwolf@xxxxxxxxx>
To: avalon@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Date: Thu, 19 Mar 2009 13:22:29 -0700 (PDT)
T’Leara followed Chapman as directed, though she remained wary just in case he 
was another one of Taggert’s people. 
 
Humans were too good at dissembling. She reminded herself yet again. Words 
alone aren’t enough to guarantee safety. 
 
"Did you hear that?" Chapman asked when the youth’s voice sounded in his head. 
T’Leara shook her head. She did not and never would. Even so, she could deduce 
what it was Chapman, and very likely all of the others, had heard. The children 
were, no doubt, warning them away.
 
When the comms went crazy, she pulled hers out instinctively and crushed it in 
her hand. Chapman held his hand out for the shattered earpiece, his expression 
one of amusement. "You couldn’t just turn it off?" he asked, his voice tinged 
with humor. 
 
"It would have been the more prudent choice, no doubt." T’Leara agreed, handing 
over the remnants of what had been a somewhat valuable piece of equipment. "My 
apologies."
 
"S’okay," Chapman grinned, readying his phaser rifle and continuing forward. 
"What’s it that Vulcan’s say? The cause was sufficient?"
 
"Indeed," She responded, her brow arching in amusement. 
 
"No offense, but how is it you don’t hear these voices when it seems like 
everyone else does?" Chapman asked as he continued to lead them forward. "I 
thought Vulcan’s were like closet telepaths or something. I’d have thought one 
of you would hear them easier."
 
"I am an anomaly among my people," T’Leara responded simply, choosing not to 
elaborate further.
 
Chapman just nodded. He could respect that. "Okay, we’re approaching the 
clearing. Stay behind me, but stay….shit…wait here," he ordered, preparing to 
rush to the Majors defense. Before he could so much as step forward, though, 
something far worse happened to his attackers than anything he could have 
imagined doing. "Fuck..me…" he whispered as he watched. "What the hell was 
that?" he demanded even as he tried to sheild the nightmare sight from the 
Vulcan woman’s view.
 
"Given what we just witnessed, I would assume it was Sariah and Tiata, 
respectively." T’Leara answered simply, moving to step past him. 
 
"Uh-uh," He said, blocking her way. "You stay behind me. I don’t know what what 
you just said meant, but I do know it’s dangerous over there. If you think I’m 
letting you take one step in that direction without protection you’ve lost your 
pointy-eared Vulcan mind. Got it?"
 
"How would you propose to protect me from what you just witnessed?" T’Leara 
asked seriously. "Indeed, how would you protect yourself from it?"
 
Chapman looked at her, flabbergasted. "Hell if I know, but I'm pretty sure that 
just walking out there with my hands in my pockets probably ain’t the 
best idea."
 
"Actually," T’Leara countered calmly. "It might be the best idea yet." 
 
Before he could counter,  the comm reinitialized, and Duarte’s voice sounded in 
Chapman’s ear. "Duarte to teams two and three. Proceed to rendezvous point. We 
have casualties, repeat we have casualties. Proceed quickly to rendezvous site. 
Per Major Phillips, everything is under control. No need to be tense or 
worried. Just get there. Thieves are handled. Move in to secure weapons. Duarte 
out."
 
Chapman relayed the message incredulously. 
 
"Are you always this straightforward with your troops, Major Phillips?" T’Leara 
asked seriously as they stepped into the clearing to join him.
 
"I’d kinda like to know the answer to that one myself," Chapman growled, his 
eyes filled with worry. "Cause that sure don't fit with what we just saw at 
all."
<USS Avalon> Protected and informed...or not...

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