<FWG> <Section 31> Air (Vector/Mosaic)

  • From: Jason Ziredac <ziredac@xxxxxxxxx>
  • To: fwgalaxy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Fri, 12 Jan 2007 23:03:55 -0800 (PST)

by Vector
    The room was suddenly silent, the words 'calm before the storm' slowly 
echoing in his ears as if foreshadowing a definite evil to come.  He leaned in 
the doorjamb, his mind racing a thousand kilometers a minute, and the ideas of 
a million conspiracies were slowly taking shape.  It all was too chaotic, too 
disorganized, for it to be just that; indeed, there was a method to the 
madness, it was in fact too organized.  Blinking, Vector (as Lt. Commander 
Jazon Rutherford), shook his swimming head in hopes of finding clarity.
 He had watched the ensign leave, a bewildered look upon his face, on a special 
errand.  The bewilderment was well-placed.  Even Vector had no idea what the 
subordinate would bring back from the analysis of his predecessor's files.  But 
something was amiss, though perfectly covered.  The situation was far more 
problematic than he, or the Director for that matter, had expected.  He 
wondered how his counterpart in San Francisco was doing.
 Sliding into the chair, Vector found himself staring at a diminished 
reflection of himself in the stalwart black of the Federation communication 
console.  The reflection wasn't his, but of someone he pretended to be.  
Sighing, he realized that he couldn't remember what his own reflection looked 
like, it had been far too long since he'd truly studied it.  No matter now, 
that wasn't the task at hand.  Pulling his metallic silver device from his 
pocket he interfaced it with the console to cleverly bypass security 
restrictions and to make his call untraceable.
 "Vector to Mosaic.  Respond." 
    Nothing came back but a static hiss, like the breath of smoke on a cold 
night, followed by a teeth-chattering click. 
    Son of a bitch.  "Vector to Mosaic, do you copy?"  His words were spoken 
into the din of monotonous noise.  He wanted to hear words, a female 
acknowledgement, but found nothing but a cacophony symphony ringing in his 
ears.  "Come on, I know you're receiving my transmission, I'm getting a 
bounce-back signal." 
    Another hiss, and a pop, and then in cut an automated signal. A creeping 
voice, a sliding drone like two slates of concrete being rubbed together. 
Siding the voice were the laughs and clicks of the signal's oddly failing 
fringes. The words, somehow hypnotic and definitely cryptic, seemed to be a 
list. "...Omen...Longshanks...Balazar...Lear...Zhang Jiao...cuckold..." A 
longer pause, and then, a quick pattering of, "Tracing all sensors for 
maintenance, finding...no...errors. The list begins again. 
    The words caught him off guard.  Testing the device sitting next to his 
console, Vector deemed that it was working properly, but still the receiving 
signal was not who or what he wanted to hear.  "Vector to Mosaic, are you 
    The automated list continued, but underneath them, there came a whisper, 
clearer and human. "Vector, are you hearing this?"
    "Loud and clear, what is it?"
  "I...I don't know..." Even in the confusion, even without vocal inflection, 
Mosaic still sounded robotic and cold. "I can push it out of our transmission 
by widening the bandwidth and narrowing it again at a firmer rate, but...what 
do you think this could be?"
"Wait..."  Vector leaned close to his console, listening to the words as they 
repeated.  "They sound like names." 
    "Not all of them...omen, cuckold...matron...awakening... If the rest of 
these words are names, they're not pertinent. Lear, that's Shakespearean. I 
know that. Zhang Jiao was, he was the leader of the Yellow Turban revolt in 
ancient China. During the Han Dynasty. Longshanks was a king of England. Let me 
just...let me get this signal out. It's coming from a remote location, but it's 
got Starfleet signatures on it. I've never seen transmutations of this 
Starfleet signal before, but it's definitely one of ours."
    "Ours as is 31, or ours as in Starfleet?"  His mind was now in overdrive, 
and so much so that he had completely forgotten that he wanted to talk with his 
fellow operative about the mission they were currently on.  Was this more 
deception?  Was this something designed by a nefarious group in order to keep 
their minds off the true objective of the clandestine organization?  "Where did 
this stuff come from?"
"Starfleet," Mosaic responded. And then the signal faded out, with all hisses 
and pops fading with it. "It sounded almost like those static noises were part 
of the sound recording. Odd. Anyway, what's the scoop in Hawaii? Getting a tan 
down there?"
"I wish.  Lt. Commander Sedge Lindway is taking a dirt nap.  Fella put a phaser 
to his head and ended it all.  They took his body out this morning and promoted 
me after lunch.  Fuckin' Christ.  Makes my job extremely difficult.  And, to 
top it off, I think there's more to Lindway's death than meets the eye."  
Vector ran a tired hand through his hair.  "Why can't I just bask in the warmth 
of the Pacific sun?  I mean, damn..." 
    "Oh. So your weirdoes are killing themselves in Hawaii. I have weirdoes 
killing each other up here. Three guests of honor smashed into the Vice 
Chairman's office and stuck it to him. And my alias is now bust, but I'm 
working on infiltrating again."
Vector stumbled over the last part.  "You were discovered?  God damn it, 
rookie.  I give you the lesser of the two evils here and you can't even handle 
that?"  Now he was just pissed, screw the whole confused motif, he was 
downright disappointed in his companion.  "Way to light up the sky for us 31 
folk.  Tell everyone in the Federation that there's a secret organization 
looming over official political proceedings.  The Director is going to have a 
field day." 
    "Chill," Mosaic said, ironically. "I wasn't discovered. I said 'my alias is 
bust.' Aren't there better things for a trained reconnaissance agent to be 
jumping to?"
    Dodging, Vector continued.  "What the hell happened?"
  "Well, as I said, three Dominion soldiers, who didn't fight like Dominion 
soldiers, or smell like them, burst into the Vice Chairman's office while my 
alias and him were in a meeting. They tried to give him a cheap appendectomy, 
but then they split. Next thing my alias knows, she's got the chairman's aide 
calling her conspirator to assassinate Tiriko."
    "Right. So they call me a wolf in sheep's clothing when I'm...oh I can't 
think of another animal. Fuck the analogy. They thought I was something that I 
wasn't, but similar to what I was. Coincidental, don't you think? I could have 
loaded my six-shooter with the bullets I was sweating."
    "You think the Gusmati were involved?"  
    "Does the...the Pope...damn it, I'm off with my colloquialisms. Yes, I do 
think the Gusmati were involved." 
    "Yeah.  I think they're getting desperate," Vector cracked his knuckles 
loudly and obnoxiously as was his custom, "When I get those results back that 
Lindway was working on, I hope to have something better as far as concrete 
evidence.  I don't like killing based purely on conjecture, however, I'm not 
above it if I get bored." 
    "So we're going to exterminate the delegation, then? That was my next 
    "Elaborate. If you're going to say 'Depends,' someone's going to ask, 'on 
what.' Save time next time." 
    "Depends on the results."  His mind was gone again, roaming to mission and 
the exact details thereof.  "What are you going to do until we get the results. 
 Should be a day or two." 
    "Get back in." 
    "And do what?"  
    "Watch." Her voice sounded perturbed, as if he should have known what she 
would be doing. 
    "If we get out of this mission alive and with our identities a secret, I am 
buying you a drink."  He had never been as impressed with recruits as he was 
with her.  Almost so much so that he would worry for his job, but figured that 
he still had enough experience to negate that fiasco from occurring.  "What do 
you say, a drink if we make it?"  
    "Why?" Her voice sounded confounded, as if he was speaking in some 
bastardized code. 
    To get you into bed, of course.  "Because I like to be social and celebrate 
a job well done."  
    "No drink," Mosaic spoke like a headline. "And no doubt. It's when we get 
out of this mission, our livelihood and our masks completely objective." 
    Vector chuckled, "You have no definition for the word fun, do you?"  
    "We're not in the Section to have fun, Vector. I'm the newbie; I shouldn't 
be telling you that." What drenched him in disgust was that she didn?t sound 
like she was trying to be this cold. He wasn?t about to give in, however.
    "But, along those same lines, we're not emotionless drones either.  We are 
allowed to have our socialization, our free time, and hell, they even allow us 
to have sexual relations now and again."  Those words came out of his mouth 
before he had realized where he was going with the whole sentence, but 
nonetheless digressed and trudged ahead.  "Mission done, time for fun." 
    "Not for me, thanks," the reply came. "Call me when it's time to act. I'm 
going to check on Tiriko." 
    He rolled his eyes, "Tell him I said 'hello'."  
    Mosaic, though Vector thought that if there was one time for her to do so 
it would be then, didn't laugh. "Mosaic out. Channel closing." There was a 
click, and all was done. 
    "Add another point for the Ice Queen."  
TV dinner still cooling?
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