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STSF_BluRox

Brandon Lo'Ami

Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank. Boot heels echoing on the metal decking below the running feet. The sound repeats while traversing the huge shuttle bay, searching for the much needed portal that may offer escape.  “Where is it? Where is it?”  Panic begins to set in. It has to be here somewhere, but where?  There, quickly. Through to the left, now down the corridor, it has to be here somewhere. Voices ahead, must find another way now.

 

Heaving lungs burning, sucking, try to gasp as much of the precious fresh air to refresh the depleted oxygen resources in the blood coursing through the hammering heart. The thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump of a heart hammering so loud, it surely could be heard. Surely to be heard by those in pursuit, loud as it seemed to be banging on the tympanic membranes of the eardrums. Thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump.

 

Trapped, cornered, which way to go? I can hear them now, the sound of other boots running down the corridor behind, getting closer.  Furtively looking left and right, sighting a door panel to the left, I dive towards it, slapping it with my palm and slipping inside as the door opens.  Close. Close. Close damn it!! It seems an eternity until the door finally slides shut.  

 

Wanting to lean back against the wall and catch a much needed breath, I know I can’t chance that they won’t also try the door. I must hide. I must find another way out.  Looking around, there isn’t much here. Bookcases along the walls, a desk to the one side of the room, 3 chairs, and a small closet.  Taking a surveying glance, taking stock of what assets were available, devising an impromptu plan.  Quickly, pulling the desk drawer open, and dumping the contents out on the desk, grabbing what items can but determined can be used as tools and weapons.  Grabbing what looks useful and tossing them on the nearby chair, I fumble trying to get the drawer back into place. Finally, the rollers find the guides and it drops into place.  Taking an arm, I sweep the remaining items back into the drawer, and turn to grab the things on the chair.

 

“Check all the offices, he must be here someplace,” the thick-necked security officer called to the rest of the team.  “All entrances have been sealed, so he must still be in the building. Spread out.”  The well armed security team fanned out through the entire level and call in reinforcements and scanning teams to check the adjoining floors.  One by one, each corridor, office, storeroom and washroom is being methodically checked.

 

“Lt Roberts!” a young ensign comes running up out of breath. “Sir, we’ve found something. Level 3, office 289. An open window, and several papers and tools strewn about on the ground below. He must have gone out the window.”

 

Lt Roberts stood there frowning. “Alright, inform your team that I said to meet up with the perimeter teams, and call up for those on 1, 2 and 4 to join you. I’ll catch up with you in a moment after I notify Commander Bocelli that we’re going to need to expand the search parameters a bit."

 

“Aye sir,” as the ensign salutes and runs to rejoin the search teams.  Lt. Roberts walks over to the window and looks down to the ground below, noting several papers beginning to blow away, several pens, a few screws, a ruler and a letter opener.  Standing back up, he turns and looks around the room, eyes narrowing on the ventilation duct above and to the left of the doorway.  Convenient wasn’t it, that there was a chair below it.  “Well, well, well….what do we have here?” said Roberts as he walks over, eyeing the missing screws around the perimeter of the grate, and the bit of paper used to wedge it in place. Breaking into a grin, Roberts pulls a tricorder and begins scanning the ceiling, following it down the hallway.

 

The footsteps have finally subsided, and I continue to crawl through the duct work, trying to get to the maintenance room down the corridor, and hopefully, a way out. Moving slowly, trying not to make any noise in the metal conduit with the heavy boots, sliding through the dust built up in the ducts that nobody bothers with once they are up and out of sight.  

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, what could have gone wrong? It had all been working like he said it would. It had all been fixed. Simple, go to the R&D lab, the security protocols would be handled, get the prototype chip, make a copy, return the original chip, then leave.  The tests had been moved into the holographic chamber of the lab to help simulate various conditions that would be encountered.  It would only take an additional program, to project another view onto the area that the security cameras were focused on. They would never know who had taken the chip. The hologram would hide the identity of whoever was in the lab area, and it was only a matter of getting out and handing the thing off.  The right amount of credits placed into a special account on Ferenginar, until my duty rotation ended in 4 months, and then, I just wouldn’t re-enlist.  I’d get a small ship, collect my reward, and then live out my days in comfort, until I came into my inheritance.  My way, without someone telling me what I had to do all the time. All these years in engineering, and I'm still stuck being an ensign. I had a symbiont, I was special, why didn't these fools know that I deserve to be promoted!?

 

I am tired of everyone telling me what to do.  Officers, engineers, and instructors reciting regulations to you, day in and day out. It was bad enough, I got the same type of pressure from the Symbiont Council and my family back at home, telling me what would and wouldn’t be best for my career, and the career of the symbiont within me.  That was the problem, wasn’t it?  They were always telling me what was best for the symbiont.  What about me? My family practically forced me into the host candidate program, when in fact, the idea revolted me. But it was expected of me, and if I wanted to one day come into the huge inheritance I would gain upon the passing of my parents, well, I would have to do this. I would be sure to emulate the feeling that it was the only thing I had spent my life striving to do.  Be a good little Trill, I would.  

 

Well, at least I was able to access enough of the experiences of my former selves, that I was able to at least make a passable presentation as an engineer.  Much to the chagrin of the symbiont with me.  My head hurts from the constant arguments I have with myself.

 

Crawling again, I can see in my mind, the symbiont warning me of additional security measured to be wary of, but I didn’t listen, I wouldn’t listen and sure enough, that voice had been right.  I had assurances that the hologram would work, but they forgot to mention that I would have to still avoid the laser detection sensors lining the corridor outside the lab.  The alarm went off, and I had almost frozen. Then, I knew that if I didn’t’ get away from the building, I was going to take the heat for this alone, as I didn’t even have a name for my contact, other than Smith.

 

The vent narrows, and feels as if it will pull from the ceiling, swaying as I continue to move.  Halting my movement, I stop to listen for voices or boots that will signal someone nearby that might hear me.  Nothing. Time to continue, moving my knee forward, suddenly everything shifts, the sensation of freefall, until shocking pain.  

 

The bitter taste of blood trickles from the side of my mouth, and an excruciating pain in m groin, as I look up at the bright lights above me and an approaching shadow.  Squinting, trying to make out who it was, I cough, bringing up a bit more blood.

 

“Now look what we have here,” reaching down, Lt. Roberts grabs the tricorder from the belt of the now exposed Ensign Brandon Lo'Ami lying on the floor. “I’ll just borrow that for a moment,” sliding the stolen copy of the R&D chip from the ensign’s tricorder, and inserting it into his own to make another copy. “Your clumsiness, just made this mess a whole lot easier to clean up. Don’t worry; it will all be over in a moment.”

 

I recognize the voice and reach out to the backlit figure, “Smith, help me Smith,” I am barely able to cough out, spraying more blood as I try to speak.  

 

“I’m sorry my friend, but it seems you are beyond help at this time. You’ve got a structural support spearing you through your groin, and it looks as if it’s hit your femoral artery, from the way it’s pumping out blood.  That and you seem to have a broken neck,” Lt. Roberts replies, crouching down besides the middle-aged Trill ensign.  “Too bad, they would have liked to have questioned you I’m sure. But, we can’t have that now, can we? But, you’ve done us a service and we’ll see what we can do, to see if your symbiont can be saved and sent back to your home world. Section-31 thanks you.” Reaching over, Lt. Roberts takes the Trill officer by the head, quickly twisting it, and readily breaking his neck. Picking up the ensign’s tricorder, Lt Roberts reaches up to his combadge, “Emergency medical transport, this location. Victim is a Trill, host is a goner, but you may be able to save the symbiont in him.” Roberts watches as the body shimmers away, and reaches to his badge again. “Commander Bocelli. Sir, the information chip as been recovered and I will bring it to you immediately. The perpetrator, an Ensign Brandon Lo’Ami has suffered a fatal injury, and will be unable to be interrogated. I will report more fully at your office sir, Lt. Roberts out.”  Roberts grins again, as he looks at Lo’Ami’s tricorder, “Yes, I’ll turn you in, and I now have one for us as well.”

 

Head twisting, hearing the bones snap, I suddenly lose the sensation of pain that had been coursing through my body. I see shimmering light around me, as the life goes out of me, the last though I register, is that the symbiont is being taken from by body. It figures, it lives while I die.

 

“Quickly, get that cortical stimulator on him.” “We’re losing him.” “No, we’re not going to lose him, he’s just in shock, but his body for some reason, is trying to shut down.  Quickly, shock him again.” The medical team worked feverishly on

Lt. Myers, who’s only mistake, was tapping into thoughts so traumatic, that his own were shutting down.

 

Standing by the door of the medical facility, Erko turns to Lo’Ami. “Do not worry.  They have an excellent team of doctors here. They will not lose him.” Lo’Ami stood, shocked himself, not realizing that hidden deep inside of him, was this past life, that the others had worked so hard to suppress. “How could I, I mean we, he….?”

 

Erko turned Lo’Ami to looked him straight in the eye. “It was entirely the host. Not the symbiont. Not you. Do not put too much stock into what you’ve learned here today.  I have had the Commission pull the records for the ‘Brandon host’, and it seems that there were some questionable decisions made involving his entry into the host program. Mostly in question, was the fact that it seems he was able to advance due to the fact of who his family was. Otherwise, he would most likely have never been found suitable as a host. His scores were….to say the least, less than flattering. The psych evaluation and personal references were to say, more colorful.”

 

Lo’Ami, still shocked had to sit down in disbelief. “But, he lied. He tried to steal from Star Fleet. It’s a wonder they even let me in after what he did? And what about it’s affect on the Lo’Ami symbiont? Look at the affect it’s already had on Lt. Benson. I may be responsible for his death if they are unable to revive him.” Reaching down, he placed a hand over his own abdomen. “What if the memories of what Brandon did, compel me to do something similar? And more importantly, do we tell Star Fleet about what we’ve learned today? Just who is, this Section-31?”

 

Erko stood staunchly silent. “That, I’m afraid, I was unable to find any record of any group named such.”

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Cool, a bitter old thief!  

 

One question for everyone: Did any Lo'Ami actually die of old age?

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One question for everyone: Did any Lo'Ami actually die of old age?

 

You can be the first!

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Well done Blu.  Not only a piece of the past, but a piece of the future as well.  It's going to be fun seeing where that story leads. : )

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Not only a piece of the past, but a piece of the future as well.  It's going to be fun seeing where that story leads. : )

Thanks Moose. I'm just glad someone enjoyed it, I was in a writing mood yesterday.  

 

As for the future, glad to leave you that avenue of potential mayhem to pursue.   :wink:

 

Blu

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Ah, yes, I think this is the perfect time for one more public notice about the zhian'tara: all avenues of mayhem that come from this exercise will likely be explored.

 

(Thanks Blu!)

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