Star Trek: Erin

Part 53: Where the Path Began

     I departed Nowak's quarters and continued to Engineering.

     It was quieter than usual when I got there. No one told me to leave immediately, although maybe that was because the highest rank in sight was a bored-looking lieutenant. Looking for recognizable faces, I noticed Michael in hushed conversation with Crewman Orlova from the Botany Bay mission.

     "Ma'am, I understand the level of discretion in—" Orlova noticed me loitering and nodded. "Ma'am."

     I returned it. "Not trying to interrupt."

     "It's fine. We're finished here." Michael shot Orlova a significant look I didn't fully understand. "That was all I wanted to know."

     The crewman drew themselves to their full height—a head taller than Michael or I—but somehow Michael still seemed the larger. "You can trust me, ma'am." They departed.

     I watched them go with a frown. "What was that about?"

     "There is a project in progress. I needed to know where they stood." Michael grinned at me. "And to what do I owe the pleasure? You're not usually allowed in here." She leaned in. "I won't tell Lieutenant Kohli."

     "I'll say we're even for that weakness you told me about in the evil dimension."

     There was a flicker in her eyes, but it cleared a moment later. Her grin widened. "Sounds good to me. Anyway, what'd you want?"

     What I was doing fully settled in. I wanted to know who made the code for my own interests, but reporting to Parra means I'm a bloody suck-up. And she'll probably never trust me again. This could ruin my reputation if it gets out. I barely stopped my mouth from curling in distain. This is what I've always hated others doing.

     So find another way.

     I forced a grin. "Anything new about the Lost Captain?"

     Michael's eyes lit up. Her voice dropped. "This stays between us, alright? I know a yeoman on the Excalibur. He managed to be on the bridge at the right time. They interacted with a Klingon vessel, their captain announcing themselves as the Lost Captain. Harris ordered not to report it."

     One particular detail caught my attention. "Klingon?"

     "A strangely sophisticated model. But yeah."

     "And you said the first officer is a Klingon too? Maybe the Lost Captain is a Klingon defector." Michael's enthusiasm was infectious. I found myself genuinely smiling. Caught in the mystery.

     "That's one of the more probable theories I've heard." Michael paused. I noticed her eyes dart to the lieutenant. "Cobos? How do you feel about what the Lost Captain does?"

     I frowned. "What part?"

     "They're obviously not Starfleet-sanctioned. But they do a lot of good."

     "I think..." I considered Michael. There was an eagerness that I couldn't tell if it was left over from the Lost Captain discussion. Section 31 is side-sanctioned, and they're shady as hell. "I think that's a lot of power. No allegiances always puts you against someone. Maybe one day the Lost Captain will be against us."

     "I thought your idealism was a bit stronger than that."

     "Everyone wants to be a hero, but when it comes down to it, we're Starfleet. That's where our loyalties have to lie."

     There was a trace of sadness in her smile. "One can dream."

     Why does she look disappointed? I shuffled my shoulders to ungracefully change the topic. "By the way, I saw some ensigns playing with the synth. They actually made synthehol with the bootleg plan they had." I eyed her. "Was that you?"

     "Synthehol?" Her eyes moved back and forth like she was reading. Michael's shoulders dropped and she muttered, "Holly. I look away for one second and he downloads my personal plans." She met my gaze. "I code synth plans on my own time. Hadn't had a chance to test the one for bloodwine, but apparently Holly decided to modify it into a plain synthehol plan. That doesn't even work." She leaned even closer. "Kind of proud that I'm better, eh?"

     "He stole from you?"

     "Appears so." Michael gave a smile that was colder than I expected. "Don't worry. I'll deal with him."

     "Good luck."

     At that point the lieutenant decided to take more interest in our conversation, and Michael excused herself to get back to engineer stuff.

     I found my way to Lieutenant Commander Parra's office. "What?" was the response to my knock. Entering the space, the first thing that hit me was the crap lying all over the place. There seemed to be a base of knick-knacks ranging from weird green rocks to little statues, but the majority of the stuff was physical books and tabbed manuals. The nearest title was 'A Treatise on Federation Values,' with one called 'Courting Fate' immediately under it. A stack of communicators teetered precariously in the centre of the desk. Parra moved through the clutter with ease and seated himself. He swiped the communicator tower to the side, somehow managing to not collapse it. "What?" he said again.

     "Sir, I followed up about the synth plan." I paused, judging whether his silence was expectant. I'm going for it. "It has been dealt with."

     "Good." Parra folded his arms. "No one else needs to be involved?"

     "No, sir."

     "Also good. Dismissed." I let out an internal breath. Uncompromised. Parra waved a hand. "Actually, no. A word of advice, Cobos. Take a week of leave. Let some officers forget your face for a while. It'll do wonders for your track."

     Makes sense, I guess. It did burn that I was trying to be forgettable. That's not how you advance. People with power have enemies.

     Ideally though, they're enemies below you so they can't create glass ceilings. I gave Parra a stiff salute and left. Although... I hadn't taken more than a couple days of leave in so long. A break would do some good. I flipped open my communicator, a grin spreading across my face. "Hey, Nowak?"