An Impressive Exit (by Joe, Pher, & Ethan)

[Ethan Neufeld 0]

"Look. Captain. This ship and its crew is in sad shape. The reason you have a Qob grunt playing Capricorn bridge crew is severe casualties. I personally don’t think, if you want Capricorn operational, that you can afford another round of fighting. We’ve had several rounds already.

 

“Talk to Alex. I’ve been trying to talk down the fighting, and almost had the Qob, Capricorn and Verbistul people working together until your latest stunt. If you want this ship operational, I might be able to get back there, but I suspect you’ve ticked people off. It won’t be easy.

 

“Meanwhile, if you know the fine gentile ladies of Orion, you might not need to be told to just take it easy. I’m trying to stay calm, but fear, pain or sudden shock could be bad. You might trigger defense mechanisms. Erections lasting over four hours do require immediate medical attention. Just saying.”

 

Maxwell eyed the Orion, wondering how much she suspected. He looked back at one of his security guards and pointed a stiff finger in Pher's direction, urging him to begin searching her. "You're right. The last thing I want is more fighting. Although I sincerely doubt that the crew of this ship is in any condition to resist, it does still require a crew beyond what Verbistul can provide.

 

"I'll let you talk to your people, but I still want you and everyone else crewing this ship disarmed. Leave Alex to me. She is one of mine, after all, and everything she's been doing on board this ship she's been doing on my orders. All of us, the crew of Verbistul, we are taking command of this ship." He glanced at Tomar and the Bajoran's guards, watching the exchange at gunpoint. "And every aspect of its functioning. This is not to be disputed by any of you."

 

“Ship’s ours,” Alex unceremoniously announced, cutting Maxwell off as she entered the bridge. Dispassionately, Ethan exited the turbo lift in Alex’s wake and patiently waited a few feet away; scrutinizing Maxwell’s people and the Capricorn crew before meeting Pher’s curious gaze.

 

“And what's the deal with tellin' Markus an' not me about the plan?” Alex continued irritably and came to stop in front of the command chair. “Y’know I could’a taken this jykin’ piece a’ junk on my own.” Knowing she had interrupted a conversation between Pher and Captain Maxwell, she shot a narrowed glare at the Orion.

 

Maxwell regarded his security chief and her Vulcan companion warily. It was not lost on him that Selek had spent the better part of the past two weeks aboard Qob. "We had to act fast, Alex. There was a battle in progress and I did not want to risk communicating my intentions. Markus was aboard the ship, so this fell to him.

 

"I have reached an understanding with our guest from Qob. We both agree that any further violence would not be in anyone's best interest. But she voiced concern that you and your team might be too eager for a fight. Now that we're all here together ... you aren't going to have any problems following my orders, correct? And you will not engage anyone on this ship unless sufficiently provoked?" He glanced back at Pher and Tomar.

 

Alex huffed. “D’ya have ta insult me? I am following your orders; only your orders, Captain. I’ve never had a problem with you---sir. My only problem’s with her,” she said, pointing sharply at Pher. “The one sayin’ jykin’ qo things ‘bout me. Tell her to mind her own va bidness and we’ll be peachy, but if she gives me a va good reason--- I’ll do my jykin’ job. I’m doin’ the jykin’ job you gave me, Captain.”

 

Ethan’s face furrowed at Alex as she spoke; at best, his expression was entirely reproving of her behavior, but he didn’t say a word. Her frustration was speaking louder than her common sense -- not an uncommon condition for Alex. It was obvious: Alex didn't like the Qob's Security Chief or her methods, and liked Pher less now that she was aware of Pher’s sentiments. But, between Alex’s angered words, she intended to do her job as Maxwell instructed her, no more or less.

 

"Good enough for me," Maxwell replied. He glanced over his shoulder at Pher. "You see? No problems here as long as my command is respected. Alex, you and Selek can start by escorting the Bajoran and his guards to the ship's Brig. They have been disarmed, but the Bajoran still wields the loyalty of the crew -- you will need to avoid ... interference as best you can."

 

"Captain Maxwell?" Pher spoke gently, without insistence. “There are some -- Shane, Grotte and perhaps Ford -- that need to be disarmed and isolated. Taj isn’t one of them. He, Alex and I have in our various ways been trying to stop the slaughter. There are sane and less sane people from at least three of the four crews. It’s your call, not mine, but I think you would do better to work with Taj. Ask her,” Pher ended, with a nod to Alex.

 

Maxwell raised a hand to Alex and replied with a glance at Tomar. "Violence will be avoided so long as the Capricorn's Captain ensures his crew's cooperation; to this end we will provide him a channel. I still view this as a pirate ship, however, and will not treat him as an equal. For now I want him and his men confined off the Bridge." He looked at Alex. "Rest assured that I trust you to handle your duties responsibly."

 

Tucking her thumbs into her gun belt, Alex looked smug; satisfied that Pher’s concerns -- Alex preferred calling it meddling or subversion -- hadn’t shaken Maxwell’s confidence in her. “You got it,” she said and then tossed her head at Pher. “What ‘bout her?”

 

"Do not trouble yourself over her," Maxwell answered bluntly. He folded his left arm behind his back and turned to face the viewscreen. "She will remain on the Bridge for now. We will keep things under control up here."

 

Alex tsked sourly. “You’re the boss,” she remarked, making no effort to hide her contempt for Pher. “But watch her close; I hear she likes to spray men with her pheromones.”

 

Turning from Maxwell with a pleased spring in her step, Alex gestured for Ethan to join her. He waved her to wait a moment and she frowned. But, for reasons unknown to those observing, she didn’t object and impatiently held out her hand. Ethan discerningly pulled a pair of single-loop flex cuffs from the MOLLE loops on his carrier and passed them to her. Seizing them thanklessly, she moved on to take Tomar and his people into custody. Ethan initially kept his gaze on Alex, but when her Verbistul crewmates were quick to step in and help without prompting, he focused on Maxwell.

 

“Captain Maxwell,” Ethan spoke steadily; “if you don’t mind me asking: what are your plans for the remaining expedition?”

 

Maxwell slowly turned his head, but did not show Ethan his face. He paused for a moment before answering. "Given what has taken place here, Mr. Selek, I believe our employer would agree that the expedition cannot continue. When we have secured this ship, we will be returning to the Hyades cluster." Maxwell returned his gaze forward. "I believe Dr. Phantos will find my arguments compelling."

 

Ethan briefly nodded, though his body language was largely inscrutable. “I’m sure you’ll make a good case, at any rate,” he replied as he briefly glanced toward the view screen. He then decisively added: “But, Captain, with your permission, I’d like to return to the surface before we withdraw from Zoalus.”

 

Maxwell turned to face Ethan, giving him his full attention for the first time. His look was one of suspicion, but not surprise. "And for what purpose, Mr. Selek, would you wish to return to that death trap? Could it perhaps be a purpose that you brought to this planet but saw fit to conceal from me?"

 

Maxwell glanced at his two guards and continued in a low voice before Ethan could answer. "You were tasked by Dr. Phantos or one of the other administrators, were you not? Sent to retrieve a specific object or to uncover information -- something they preferred to be kept quiet?"

 

Ethan remained stolid, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Maxwell as he listened; he only casually shifted his weight once and not for any uneasiness. After Maxwell finished, the seconds ticked by as he quietly considered the other man.

 

“Generally,” he answered methodically but not straining to keep his voice as low, “I guarantee my clients’ confidentiality; you’ll understand if I don’t reveal my objective.” He made a heavy pause.

 

“But if you ask my client, he might bring you into his confidence.”

 

Maxwell smiled grimly. "I have not been in your client's confidence since this expedition was put together. That privilege, it seems, is reserved for mercenaries.

 

"It should take us around two hours to ready for departure. I see no compelling reason to stop you. But if you wish to use the transporters, one of my men here will oversee their operation. And if you do not signal your desire to return within two hours, we will leave you behind."

 

“Four hours,” Ethan pitched, signalling the same with his hand.

 

Pher quietly snorted, but Maxwell didn’t seem to need more warning about Ethan, and she didn’t think enough of Maxwell to give him more warning than the snort. Sure enough...

 

"You ask me to stall our departure so that you might complete an objective that you will not reveal to me?" Maxwell shook his head. "If you will not state your intentions, I will give you no more time. We will contact you before we leave, however, and give you the chance to return."

 

Pher’s snort had drawn Ethan’s calm gaze, but he promptly returned his attention to Maxwell. “Fair enough,” he agreed minimally, making no effort to further haggle or counter Maxwell’s earlier criticism of their expedition’s financiers. “The Qob’s orbital data on our first shore mission was transferred to the Capricorn; I’ll need access to it.”

 

"I know nothing about that; Qob's crew was working more closely with these raiders than with Verbistul," Maxwell turned away and pointed briefly at the science station and its occupant. "Mr. Lazarus is gaining access to the ship's systems and should be able to provide you with what you need. He will act as liaison for your little trip. Do not take too much of his time; there are a number of matters for him to attend to."

 

Ethan followed Maxwell’s gesture; he nodded his acknowledgement and smiled flatly. Having secured for what he’d come, Ethan then wordlessly turned, beginning his exit in the same manner as his entrance, and joined Alex at the turbo lift.

 

“I can handle ‘em,” she murmured. Three Capricorn crew members stood next to her, securely cuffed; Alex held a firm hand to Tomar’s elbow as she kept a watchful eye on his guards. Though the latter were more willing to return her glare, the Bajoran was sober. Surprisingly, he hadn’t put up much resistance and had directed his guards to do the same -- perhaps he’d seen the proverbial writing on the wall. Still, Ethan’s brow rose skeptically at her suggestion. Maxwell’s guards would remain on the bridge with their Captain. Ethan clearly disagreed with the idea of allowing her to escort a high-risk prisoner and his friends alone, and that made Alex scowl.

 

“Fine, have it your way,” she tightly remarked and slapped the call button. Within a few seconds the lift doors hissed aside and Alex entered, easily pushing Tomar and his guards before her.

 

But Ethan didn’t immediately follow, pausing on the threshold to study Maxwell from his shoulder. “Captain, out of curiosity, what are you going to do about the Qob?"

 

Maxwell remained standing at the center of the Bridge, his arm folded behind his back for a quiet moment. "The Qob and the Lucky Hand have destroyed each other. There is nothing to be done."

 

Whether Ethan was satisfied or dissatisfied with Maxwell’s answer, he didn’t say; but nodded almost imperceptibly and simply entered the turbo lift, the doors closing behind him.

 

If Ethan wasn’t the most cooperative and sharing crew member she’d ever worked with, he could at least make an impressive exit. Pher took the opportunity to quietly tap a few buttons on her tactical console, shutting down the programming and sensor packages she’d set up for the battle they’d never quite had the opportunity to join.

 

She tried not to smile as the green icon labeled ‘Qob’ vanished from the tactical display. It was likely inaccurate, anyway, knowing Joe. She’d used the color green to indicate a friendly ship.

Edited October 28, 2011 by Ethan Neufeld