Friday, July 2, 2010

[USS Charon] Re: SD241007.01 || Joint Log, "From Ardana, With Love", Amb. Lamont and Lt. Andraste

Syed <manydoubts@gmail.com> wrote to charon@ucip.org:

"From Ardana, With Love"

= Corridor =
= USS Ganymede =

Xanthe Andraste, Ardana's Representative to the Federation Council and
the first daughter of the High Advisor of Stratos, marched through the
halls of the USS Ganymede. A small security detail composed of young
Starfleet officers trailed behind her, trying not to step on the train
of her elaborate red gown.

"...and then she just closed the channel," the Councilor exclaimed,
throwing her hands up in the air. She was a severe looking woman,
human to all appearances, with the map of the world just beginning to
form upon her face. Her hazel eyes, however, were still animated and
full of life, betraying an inexhaustible energy that had persisted
despite the unceasing march of time against her youth. "And while I
was in the middle of a sentence. The nerve of that girl. That is
simply not a done thing. No civilized creature treats their parents
in that manner. Do you treat your mother that way, Cadet Dholka? No,
of course not. No one does. I tell you, I have never had an easy
time with that vile girl. Ever since she was young, she kept running
and jumping around. There was no way to control her."

"My condolences, Madame Councilor," Cadet Dabra offered politely,
allowing himself to fall a little further behind. "I have heard that
sometimes, what you can't control, you can only hope to redirect." He
wanted to get further away, but the rest of the security detail had
already put some distance between themselves and the diplomat. Without
backup, his escape plan was forfeit. He shot the other security
guards a dirty look.

"What does that mean?" Andraste snapped, swirling around to face the
young man with such speed that it was a miracle she did not trip over
her own flowing red gown, "Is that a Starfleet thing? I have to tell
you, Cadet Dobla, I do not like Starfleet. They're always flying
around and doing things. I do not approve of that, you know. So I
would thank you kindly to keep your military philosophies to yourself.
In fact, that gives me an idea and, since it is my own idea, it is
necessarily splendid. I do believe there is a diplomat assigned to
this Charon ship of hers."

"Your daughter's?"

"Yes, yes. I do believe I distinctly recall his name. LaBeouf or
LaMuff or something of that sort. Set up a conference with the
Ambassador immediately. I will speak to him about keeping an eye out
for my daughter, and keeping her safe from Starfleet, scoundrels that
they are, you know, a mother can never be too careful.

= Later =
= USS Charon =

Ian Lamont had just sat down to a light breakfast in his quarters. He
had prepared himself a hot pot of green tea freshly brewed with leaves
from his own private stores. Replicators could not simulate the
delicate flavors those with refined palettes expected and demanded.
As a countermeasure against the torture of consuming excess amounts of
replicated food the ambassador had a sizeable supply of various items
to blunt the taste bud killing effects of military replication
systems.

The subtle aroma of steeping tea was comforting as Lamont looked over
a padd filled with daily news and other media of interest. A warm cup
of fresh tea combined with butter, preserves, and the best scones the
replicator could generate was a perfect start to what felt like the
beginning of a good day.

Pouring himself a cup of the amber colored tea, Lamont was moments
away from savoring its delicate flavor when the chime at his door
rang. He ignored the ring determined to manage a sip of his tea when
it rang again. With a sigh he set his cup down, tossed his napkin
onto the table with frustration, and headed for his door.

Tapping the controls his doors slid open revealing two engineers
carrying toolkits. Each of the two men appeared somewhat nervous as
the Ambassador used his powers of observation to quickly scan the two
men, their posture, body language, and facial expressions.

"Are you just going to stand there or do you gentlemen have business
here", Lamont finally asked breaking the unnatural silence.

"Sorry sir", the lead technician quickly replied. "Sorry to bother
you this early sir, however we need to perform a check on some systems
located above your quarters. Looks like one of the isolinear
subprocessors may need to be
replaced."

"Iso-what", Lamont replied.

"Isolinear subprocessors. It's a system that is responsible for
regulating gravity in this area. We've noticed a slight intermittent
flutter possibly a result of one or more of the contacts depolarizing.
We've bypassed the unit for now, but…"

Lamont held up his hand. "Please spare me the details. I'm an
ambassador not an engineer. Do what you must but be quick about it."
Showing the men in, Lamont sighed and followed them inside as they
proceeded to unpack their
tools. Heading back over to his table, Lamont returned to his seat,
placed his linen napkin in his lap, and once again took hold of his
tea when a deafening sound filled his quarters.

"What in the name of", Lamont shouted as the engineer's tools
generated a terrible racket as they tore apart his ceiling.

"Sorry sir, the unit is behind an EPS relay. We're going to need to
remove this equipment in order to gain access. It could be a tad
noisy."

"A TAD", Lamont blurted. "Your description seems to be someone of an
understatement." Rubbing his temple, Lamont waived for the men to
continue their work much to his irritation. "Be quick gentlemen",
Lamont added. "My patience has its limits." The two engineers
swallowed having been assigned to perform this duty with the difficult
ambassador when no one had volunteered in engineering.

The engineers ministrations and the hellish cacophony created by their
tools ruined any semblance of an enjoyable breakfast. Containing a
scowl, but nonetheless feeling frustration building within, Lamont
picked up the morning news and again reached for his tea.

The fine aroma of the tea helped to assuage the irritants around him.
Tilting the cup the warm, green liquid graced his lips but not before
his computer terminal began incessantly beeping from his desk. The
calming effects of the tea soon evaporated along with the steam rising
from his cup as he returned the cup and saucer to the table and again
threw his napkin into his chair. A sudden blast of noise from the
engineer's drills and tools caused him to cringe as he moved to his
desk to shut off the incessant beeping.

Activating his terminal, he was greeted by the communications officer
on the bridge. "Sorry to disturb you ambassador however there is a
message inbound from the Federation encoded to your attention. It is
a priority diplomatic channel sir."

Lamont's eyebrow perked up slightly at the news. How interesting, he
mused. Perhaps the diplomatic corps had finally come to their senses
and would transfer him to another assignment? He could only hope.
Yet a priority diplomatic communiqué was rare except in all but the
most urgent of matters. Who could be calling and why?

"I'll take the call here", Lamont answered the lieutenant. The bridge
officer faded temporarily replaced by a Starfleet logo before the
image of a woman he was not familiar with graced his screen.
Immediately he recognized her to be someone of marginal importance and
power given her elegant attire, posture, and by the way she held
herself. He was about to introduce himself, but never had the
opportunity…

"Ah...yes. There you are, Ambassador Lemon. I wish to speak with you
about my daughter. It has come to my attention lately that she is
subject to the horrors of the same ship upon which you have the
terrible misfortune of being assigned. Now, you ask, why is this a
noteworthy thing? Well, indeed, if you must know, my daughter, you
see, she really is a silly girl. I think she must have somehow inhaled
too much zenite. Or maybe it is because she is a hybrid. I have no
use for hybrids. Now, I know you're thinking to yourself, why would I
produce a hybrid then? Well...it was a most unfortunate matter, you
know, and I am ashamed to admit, it really should not have been a done
thing. You see...there is really no other way to say this...I married
a Betazoid." The Councilor paused after this momentous announcement,
as if expecting some kind of reaction from Lamont. It quickly became
evident to her, however, that the gravity of her mistake
was lost upon him. "My parents, my people, all warned me it was a
blunder but...you know how it is with young love."

Young love? Who was this most unusual creature? "Forgive me Madame
but I am not sure I understand the purpose of…"

"And not only is she silly," the woman continued, ignoring Lamont's
response, "I have no idea why she is always difficult with me. I was
a good mother to the thing. I really was. I even went to great
lengths to tie her up. Now don't look so horrified, Mr. Lamonk, she
was always trouble. She never sat down. And she had a habit of
jumping around. Now, mind you, a city in the clouds is good for many
things, but not for having children jump around. That often does not
end well. The point is that I could have had my servants tie her up -
but did I? No. I did it myself. That, you see, is the love a true
mother."

Lamont had to restrain himself from letting his jaw drop, breaking out
into a fit of laughter, or perhaps both. A sudden and unexpected
clang behind him sent yet another shockwave through the Ambassador
who's piercing green eyes withheld no fury as he cast a menacing
glance at the two intrusive engineering technicians who were
destroying his quarters and his morning.

"Madame, I mean no disrespect however I believe there has been some
sort of mistak…." He was not allowed the opportunity to finish before
the impetuous woman continued her ramblings.

"What I require from you, Ambassador, is for you to completely
appreciate who I am. I am, after all, Ardana's Representative to the
Federation Council and the first daughter of the High Advisor of
Stratos. I trust you understand what that means? Of course, you do.
You are a mostly civilized creature, I am sure, despite your time with
the horrid Starfleet. Well, what I require is for you to contact my
daughter and provide me with consistent updates as to her well being,
or convince her to do the same, it makes no real difference to me,
truly. Oh…and should any harm befall her, I will, of course, be
holding you personally response and that would not, most assuredly, be
good for you. That is all. Good day."

Lamont's mouth was still open to respond when the channel closed
leaving him wide eyed and speechless. The pose stuck for several
moments as he attempted to make sense of what had just transpired.
Ardana's representative? A fellow colleague? How did anyone so full
of hot air manage to rise to such a position? Furthermore how did she
track him down and what were her motives in doing so? Since when had
he become a galactic babysitter? Had he been away from affairs in the
Alpha Quadrant for so long that now he was being relegated to keeping
tabs on other dignitary's children? How the mighty had fallen if this
was indeed the case.

No! He wouldn't lower himself to this level no matter who the hell
this woman was or thought she was. Her daughter could end up
scrubbing plasma manifolds for all he cared. He was this ship's
ambassador and diplomatic advisor not a guardian for hire for some
exuberant and spoiled adolescent who had never lifted a finger in her
life.

A large metallic panel fell from the ceiling and bounced off the
ambassador's couch hitting a decoration whose glass structure
shattered a split second later across Lamont's floor.

This morning had been too much. "ENOUGH", Lamont blurted at the two
technicians. "You may resume your carnage and demolition of my
quarters at a time of my choosing, but not a second before." His
narrowed green eyes clearly indicated the location of the exit.

The two technicians knew something of the ambassador's reputation and
temper and quickly decided it would be unwise to remain or challenge
the ambassador given his current expression. Lamont watched the two
men leave before
shooting an annoyed look at the gaping hole in his quarters.

His hopeful outlook on the day had been ruined replaced by resentment,
irritation, and confusing questions about the conversation he had with
a 'charming' female representative he knew almost nothing about.
Grabbing his tea for the fourth time that morning, Lamont finally
managed to partake in a simple pleasure that was sure to help take the
edge off a stressful morning.

A sour expression twisted across Lamont's face as he painfully
swallowed. The tea was cold, bitter, and as such completely ruined.

Dropping the cup and saucer to the table Lamont gripped the bridge of
his nose. "Why me", he mused in the calm of his now quiet quarters.
A hanging part from the gaping hole suddenly fell to the floor with a
loud crash causing the ambassador to again jump in his seat.

Lamont wondered what gods he had offended in this life or the last to
deserve such punishment aboard this ship. He felt a headache coming
on and somehow he sensed it would not be one he would be rid of
anytime soon.

= End Log =