The Analyst Trance

Posted on Tue Jul 23rd, 2019 @ 12:07am by Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov

Mission: War and Peacekeeping
Location: Unused Cargo Hold

The flicker of light illuminated his face, touching the flame to the tip of his cigarette. Taking a drag he stepped forward to the holographic display of the Zendaya, his eyes following the various corridors. He managed to get the initial reports from their engineering department, something about the sensor array frying. It was a bit too convenient for him, especially considering who was on board. Before he could drop too far down that rabbit hole someone entered his fortress of solitude. Without looking he rolled the cigarette in his mouth, “What can I do for you Tebiza?”

The Bajoran stopped in her tracks, not exactly appreciating his seeming clairvoyance. Initially she had gone to his bedroom, assuming that since he was supposed to be off duty she would find him drinking while staring at art that didn’t make. Not finding him there could mean he was in the arms of some hapless woman, or that he had squirreled away somewhere. She correctly guessed the latter, “How did you?”

“You’re the only one who knows my bad habit,” Looking at her with a grin, he pointed to the cigarette in his mouth. They were in an unused cargo hold which had already started gathering dust in their short time on board. After messing with the settings he managed to get the airflow just right so the smell wouldn’t linger, “The only one who’d hunt for me here.”

“Gee, you know how to treat a girl,” Walking closer to the holographic image, she noted it was an older Federation design. She watched as the man traced a route from one deck to a room several decks above. He was mumbling to himself as he did so, low enough to be incomprensible to her. Whatever it was he was saying though seemed enlightening to him, “Mind tell me what you’re doing with the model?”

He waved her over a little closer, “You’re aware that we’re meeting up with the Zendaya. I’m trying to figure out why that became necessary in the first place,” Turning away he took a few steps, “Tell me Crewman Delle, how do you think it happened?” Holding up his hand he paused her prematurely, “Ignore the idea that it was an accident.”

She was a bit taken aback by his sudden formality but quickly took the hint. Slowly she walked around the model. Bomb, no, the internal systems would pick it up and even if they didn’t any fool with a tricorder could find residue. Zooming in she noted the red areas, mostly cooling systems that failed, “I’d probably hit the main computer, force some sort of malfunction. But how’d the power relay fail that dramatically?”

“Engineers claim it failed with the rest of the system, which makes little to no sense because that supposedly forced the alarm that started ten minutes before they dropped out of warp,” Turning back to the hologram he took the cigarette out of his mouth, Pointing to the vessel, “This whole mess is screwy, no one can give me a clear timeline. Yet it was clear to them it was an unfortunate accident. So either it was or they’re covering up for shit security.”

She took the man’s cigarette, taking a long drag herself before tossing it into a corner, “How long have you been here?” Grabbing his shoulders she scanned his face, concern in hers. He was tired and more unkempt than usual. The scent of stale tobacco clung to his clothes, “You look like hell boss.”

Aleksi laughed, “Tell me something I don’t know. I’ve been here a few hours pretending to be a terrorist with about a dozen theories but no solutions,” Pushing her aside gently he closed the distance between him and the hologram. Spinning it around, more for dramatic effect than anything else, “Generalísimo Bolivar, founder of the Trion Liberation Front. Formerly Corporal Vega of the Trion 8 militia. Tell me my friend, what did you do?”

Grabbing his shoulders she spun him around, “We need to get you cleaned up and crawling into a bottle of booze,” She moved her finger in front of his face, moving it back and forth to see if he was tracking. He wasn’t, “Perhaps we can find ourselves a cute little gal to split between us. I warm her up and you take second shift?”

He grinned a maniacal grin, a slight crazed look in his eyes, “I only have a few hours my dear and so much to do,” Walking past her, he pulled out his box of cigarettes. Withdrawing another one he looked at the model, nodding quietly, “But every minute we’re getting closer and closer.”

She made a motion to ask him again but realized it was pointless. That look was one she had seen many times in others, a sort of trance, a laser focus that could drive one to self-destruction if they weren’t careful. It wouldn’t surprise her if this was a plane of reality he routinely visited, that perhaps his success came from that. Shrugging she turned towards the door, he was an adult after all, “If you need me boss I’ll be getting a drink.”

“Give Ashe my regards,” He opened his lighter, a flame greeting him. Raising it to his face, his eyes lingered on the model, debating on whether he’d retreat from this puzzle. The name of the woman though. Snapping the lighter closed he decided that if he hadn’t solved the mystery in an hour he’d grab that drink. Looking over his shoulder to say something else he saw that Tebiza had left. Smirking, he dropped the lighter into his pocket before looking back at the model, cigarette still dangling loosely from his lips. The game was afoot.

=/\=

Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Astraea

&

Crewman Delle Tebiza
Intelligence Analyst
USS Astraea