<FWG> (Section 31) "Winds of Change, Scents of Evil"
- From: groundzero@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- To: fwgalaxy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Tue, 07 Nov 2006 23:33:08 -0800
From Section 31...
"Winds of Change, Scents of Evil"
San Francisco, Earth
by Vector& Mosaic
The wind lashed at his face, messing up his hair, and causing his jacket to
sway in the breeze like a dancer moving to a song no one could hear. It was one
of his favorite places - the Presidio - and the view was perfect. The view
across the bay was one of the magnificent on Earth, trumping in his eyes the
marvels of the Great Wall of China and the Grayson Acropolis constructed in
2211. He would take waves crashing upon the shore over a gigantic observatory
any day.
Hydrosailers floated on the water's surface, hovering poetically over the sea
as if touching it would bring mortal peril. They made contact only when
necessary and then resumed their distance inches above the fray. Waiting until
the time was right to be connected again. It was a twisted metaphor for his
place in the Section. It was so ironically and beautifully poignant. Those
agents in the field made their presence known only when it was called for.
For now he was content to stand in blessed silence, hearing nothing more than
the wind in his ears and the sounds of the water meeting the shore below.
Vector, known to so many by that hauntingly solid codename, waited patiently
for his contact. She was new, but her first mission had proved her worth to
their cause. He was increasingly excited to meet a new face, but for the time
being it was all about the solitude.
Above him, nearing the the summit of the slope that rolled down to the landing
of Earth and cobblestone where he stood, Mosaic crouched and watched. The
too-long coattails of crimson flapped behind her violently, like flames amidst
the Autumn's smeared tan-green hills. She watched him intently, almost positive
it was the man she was intended to meet from the moment she made visual. But as
protocol and her own personal safety habits had it, she still monitored him.
After the debacle with Raven, Mosaic was in better spirits about doing jobs
with people other than her trusted friend Lacuna. Nevertheless, her opinion of
the matter was still sour like month-old meat. And because of Vector's gender,
she was to be more wary; men (aside from Lacuna...and of course, aside from
Dirk) were untrustworthy as nature would have written into their skins.
She didn't like how Vector looked, but then again, she didn't like the
appearance of anybody.
He stood there a few moments longer, letting the scene before him continue on
its natural course. The wind shifted and he smelt something amiss. Not a normal
fragrance to smell on such a normal day. He took it in, analyzing it to the
best of his ability. It was something strange and off, but at the same time as
blissful as a summer day. It was her, he was sure of it. Without turning
towards her, Vector put up a hand and beckoned her towards him.
Her lips skewed to one side in a shortchange of a smile. It was her contact all
right. These days only someone she was supposed to meet or someone who would
kill her before she got the chance to react would have been keen enough on
their senses to smell someone upwind. Vector passed her little test, one point
awarded to him. She rose and descended the decline, sliding the rest of the way
on her boots, and landing with a palm to the ground in a gymnast's dismount.
She looked up at him and said with a cold that not even the summer heat could
melt, "Good day."
Her words chilled him. And he liked it. It was a good attitude to have in a
line of work that required one to have that emotional detachment. A smirk
tugged at his lips, threatening to crush the image he was attempting to give
off. Vector nodded curtly, swiveling slightly on his heel to look at her. "That
it is. Mosaic, I presume?"
"Vector," she stated as she rose to a full stand, losing her feral poise with
which she was prepared to pounce had his words not met her approval. Girl's
gotta protect herself, a girl named Olivia Martin had heard once, and the odd
admonishment whispered like a wave at midnight.
She didn't offer her leather-clad hand for shaking and stood there looking up
at the man, waiting for what he had to say with eyes that were like the slits
in snow fallen icicles might leave.
Rigid. Cold. Professional. Deadly. They were the first words to come to mind
staring at the young lady before him. It pleased him that that was his reaction
to her elegant stance. "We have a job that we must complete. And, as our work
dictates, the future of the Federation may be threatened if we don't act with
determination and precision. I trust, given your presence, that you have been
brought up to speed with our current situation by the Director?"
The words hung for a moment as he wanted to say more. Vector had never been one
for idle chitchat, but at the same time he was not use to mere specifics. It
was the gray area in the black and white zone of conversation. He remained
still, his eyes locked on hers like someone staring into the eyes of fate or
madness, and his arms continued to hide comfortably behind his back.
Vector had switched the part of her on where she rattled information, but not
to excess. Like one of the mechanical twigs in the young tree of her neck. "We
are to stop the allegiance of the Gusmati, the small world that traveled into
Federation space peacefully two weeks ago. On a standard observation mission,
we discovered their motives in gaining Federation union were not as 'wholesome'
as they would like. But in accordance to the Prime Directive, such information
could not be ascertained by the Federation itself." Then without a period, or
even so much as a comma (let alone a space between words), Mosaic added, "Am I
leaving anything out?"
"Not a word out of place." Vector turned and began walking down a path that
would eventually lead to the water's edge. The most unused trail in the
Federation, he had been told by his mentor when he had first been recruited.
The only people to ever use it were the Ambassadors from the Federation Council
and, even then, it was a rarity. "It is our belief, as you may be aware, that
the representatives of the Federation Council will no doubt push the Gusmati
application through to the floor for vote by the end of the week. It is their
ambition and carelessness that will be their undoing. We have little time."
Mosaic made no direct response, as matters of confidence and "ambition" were of
little care for her now. Details mattered not. "How many Gusmati delegates are
there?"
"According to initial reports it would seem they have sent six representatives.
Each one has their own expertise pretaining to Gusmatian society. I fear that
the Director has underestimated the Gusmati. Eliminating the delegation may be
a temporary fix, but the determination for membership is strong." Vector took a
hard left, leading to a loose gravel trail that steepened as they descended to
the shore. "More drastic action may need to be taken after we assess the
Federation Council's intentions."
"And the Gusmati that await in orbit may see it as an act of aggression on the
Federation's side. We need to make it look like it's someone else's doing." A
wicked thought played hopscotch into her brain. "Maybe some due Federation
deaths would make it seem like a third party. Perhaps a missing item of
importance. Anything to alleviate blame on their side." Regressing to a
humanitarian state, juxtaposed by her insensitive previous statements, she
added, "I would hate to start a war."
"Another one." He agreed wholeheartedly with her last statement. Besides, the
Federation was still in the midst of fighting the Dominion War. Another
conflict with anyone was not going to be anyone's best interest. "I have a
insertion point for you to get close to Vice Chairman Kegan Tiriko. With the
current Chairman on a diplomatic mission to Betazed, he's running things. As an
aide you'll be able to get the most insight into the situation."
"As an aide," she said. "Acting is one of my strong points."
"Good. I've gotten myself, rather I've gotten Noah Dedren, assigned as one of
the security contigents assigned to the Gusmati delegation. Should allow me
plenty of time to listen to what they've got going and allow me access to
pretty much anywhere on the Council grounds." They reached the bottom of the
hill and the end of the path. The gravel broke way for rich golden sand and he
strode freely and purposefully towards the water's edge.
"And is Tiriko an expendable target, when we are through with him?"
Vector shook his head, "Negative. The Vice Chairman is vital at this juncture
to the Federation's operation. Plus, he has always seemed to hold the Section's
morals as his own without realizing it." He stopped just short of the water
line, the sea slowing to a trickle before lapping at the front of his boots.
"He is quite flustered with the way the representatives are fast-tracking this
application."
A wash of air blew threw her haggard hair and brought her gaze to the water,
making her watch the skimming boats over the tide. One vessel was larger and
slower, making its way into the bay beaming unfamiliar insignias and regal
banners and an unusual flare for such a routine afternoon in San Francisco.
Movement of shadows passed by the portholes of the boat, and on the promenade
there stood a man in fluvial formal robes, leaning on the railing and
attempting to breathe in every molecule in the air.
Mosaic pointed. "The Gusmati. Coming in by boat."
"Yes," Vector said simply, acknowledging her observation. "Their world is
covered by water, almost ninety percent. They prefer to travel on the water's
surface to their destinations. Their residence during their application period
is the big island of Hawaii. That man there is Representative Jurall."
Mosaic walked idly to the stone banister separating her and the beginning of
the bay, and she put her gloved hands on the rock and leaned, hunching forward
a bit like a raven watching the wheels of an overturned Chevy rotate with the
turning of the world. Something rose in her throat like an unexpected hiccup, a
question she didn't expect, and hopefully, didn't expect and answer to.
It was in a different tone of voice, even, as if without thinking about it she
had inserted a new voice-chip into her neck to sound like a girl more innocent,
a girl with thoughts of her own, emotions...things the Section forbade. She
asked, "What, I wonder, do the Gusmati plan to do if they are to be inducted
into the Federation?" This is when she caught herself and turned to face Vector
with a deadly pale face, scorning rudely. "It...wasn't in the mission
briefing."
Vector nodded, almost sadly, "That is the ultimate question, isn't it?" He
moved up besides her, leaning against the barrier as well. The boat slid into
the harbor, the one lone dock near the Federation Council building in the
distance. "That is part of our mission, reconnaissance. However, we have reason
to believe that they are attempting to subvert resources for their world from
the war effort."
The Federation Council building gleamed in the midday light. The blues and the
silvers that lined every square meter of the structure reflected brilliantly as
if designed to do so. The representatives disembarked, leaving the silvery
boats bobbing silently in the water. Vector sighed, knowing that the mission
before them could prove complicated and difficult.
Hissing with an inward breath, Mosaic brashly moved away from Vector, as if
trying to escape from him. "Back to my in with Tiriko. I assume you have a
briefing of your own to go along with it."
He perked an eyebrow, noting the change in her demeanor. "You have your
official documents, and your assignment; the way you get your information is up
to you."
Taciturn she shrugged away from him and said, "Fine. I'll find my way in." With
her hard bootheels clicking on the cobblestones that lined the rocky lips of
the bay, she left him, trailing her red trenchcoat to wave back at him
dismissively. Wave back at all she had been given for this task. Dammit, she
thought, I knew I'd be stuck doing everything on my lonesome. If only Lacuna
were here. We'd be in this together, like a team.
"You're posing as a Starfleet Aide to the Vice Chairman of the Federation
Council. Your way in is already set up. Impersonation. What more do you need to
know?" He shouted after as if the back of her head would absorb his words. She
had come off so regal and professional, only to slump back into an immature and
arrogant personality. Perhaps he was wrong about her.
She stopped and turned her head over her shoulder, glaring at him with her
inwardly slanted eyes. Though she spoke loud enough for her to hear him, she
felt it as a whisper. "And to whom do we give blame, when they all wind up
dead?"
"The Gusmati?" Vector appreciated her ambition, he truly did, but there were
some barriers that hadn't been crossed. "We'll figure that out when we need to
take that action. No need to worry about it quite yet. Trust me, Mosaic, I know
what I'm doing."
A light and a grimace overcame her face and Mosaic pulled her shoulders back to
begin taking off the red coat. To other eyes it would seem as if she was
peeling off a layer of skin, and underneath there was nothing but a
supersensitive wound. Her underarmor was thick black-and-gray leather that
hugged her skin and allowed her to move with fair ease, and it moved with her
as if she wasn't wearing it at all. Over the stone wall she hung her coat and
put her fingers through her hair, hanging her mouth ajar in a loss of connected
thought. She looked like half the person she was without the long, beautiful
coat hanging off her, but she approached Vector, looking down at the ground.
"What if we were denied the information on the Gusmati for a reason?" she
asked, again in that voice she found so odd. "What if the Director made a
mistake? Or worse: what if he has made no mistake and is doing something he
shouldn't? I feel...I feel naked and dark about leaping into this thing and
killing delegates without knowing exactly what they plan to do."
"If I had any more information, I would give it to you. Being just as in the
dark as you leaves me uneasy as well. That is why we must investigate before
any action is taken." Vector's position remained unchanged, his thoughts
collected, his voice calm and cool.
"Something isn't right about this..." Mosaic began, and then she grimaced again
and this time, looked like she was stuck that way. "Oh hell, what am I saying?
What am I doing?" Briskly she retrieved her coat and put it on quickly, like
she had long been a lone traveler of a blizzard-ridden tundra and had just
found warmth. The squint was back in her eyes and her arms crossed before her
like a barricade.
Again she peered out over the water, watching the aft of the Gusmati boat as it
met the docks of San Francisco.
"Vector," she said, "I'll..." Another vocal falter, and her stance's balance
nearly went with it. "I'll do my best."
"I wouldn't expect anything less. You have your way of contacting me," Vector
said, pulling his silver metallic contraption from his pocket. The engraved
arrow, resembling a vector in a mathematical calculation, was emblazoned across
its surface. "I'll be with the security contingent going back and forth from
the big island of Hawaii."
Mosaic nodded and turned silently toward the city to begin her vague design.
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