Tightrope

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Tightrope

CDR Rue Wydown

CDR Mal Alexander (NPC)

***

Commander Wydown flopped down in her desk chair and scrubbed her hands with her face. She had one hour left before the senior staff meeting to finish shifting through the multiple situation reports and come up with a clear timeline of events and actions. Dealing with different individuals POV made the job all the more interesting. A bit like trying to follow the moonwalking bear in the middle of dribbling contest. In addition, she was still waiting for the status updates from the Cape Horn and Valorous, the two SF ships who’d accompanied Excalibur on their mission. Both ships were to regain formation with Excalibur now that the missing freighter had been located, but Cape Horn was once again having difficulty with the ion storm. She hoped that the Cape could pull it together long enough to return to Camelot for that long overdue overhaul.

 

She punched the button on her computer to accept the incoming call from...weeeeelllllll... she wasn’t quite sure where the call was form. She hadn’t been paying all that close attention when the OPS officer on duty had told her she had an incoming transition. She assumed it was from the Valorous, but maybe it was the Cape Horn. She answered in a distracted fashion as she tried to dutifully organize her notes for the senior staff meeting. “Whotcha.”

 

"And a good afternoon to you, too," came the familiar voice of Mal Alexander. Looking up, Rue found his familiar features on her screen, a droll smile curving his lips. "How's my favorite Ralafean doing?"

 

Thinking of only one reason why Alexander would call her, Wydown decided to cut the small talk and go right to the main event. She flashed a cat-like grin and leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest as she prepared for the entertainment soon to come. “Wuzhe done distime?” Her question about her ex-husband’s antics coming out like a run-on sentence.

 

“He?” Mal furrowed his brow momentarily. “Oh, Clay! Oh, well, nothing -- that I know of, at least. He’s still on Terra Firma... though, with Jamie hovering nearby, I’m not going to make any promises. God save the planet if they get bored.”

 

Smiling through her confusion as to why then Mal had her on the comm if he wasn’t calling to share some mischief caused by Clayton, she shrugged. “Lucky we’re out here then, aye?”

 

“Not so much, no,” he replied, drawing the syllables out.

 

This was the first confirmation for Rue that this was not a social call. Cautiously she asked. “What makes you say that?” Her own accent made ‘what’ sound like ‘wha-ought’.

 

Leaning back in his own chair, the intelligence officer mirrored her position. “Well, let’s see. On one side, we have the Vorta and the Jem Hadar acting like dangerous amateurs; the Scorpiad and Al-Ucard fighting to see who’s on top; and the Federation behind us. I’d say luck has very little to do with it.”

 

“See now, I think luck has everything to do with it.” She grinned, relaxing for the moment. “We’re lucky none of these factors can get their act together or we’d have our collective a...” -- she paused, rephrasing her comment for public comms -- “bustles in a bunch. And we’re lucky we have such awesomely skilled ‘Fleeters to handle it.”

 

“Yes, well, I suppose Swain is something of an improvement over the mutt,” Alexander muttered. “Speaking of... I’m afraid I’ve something of an unusual request.”

 

“And there’s the shoe....” She sighed, tensing up again. “What is it?”

 

“You’ve been copied on on the comms traffic from headquarters about the Kalith-Hakarian situation?”

 

“Yesssss?”

 

“And you’ve read the intelligence estimate we did on the Kalith after the war?”

 

“Emh, what intelligence estimate?” Rue raised a brow.

 

Mal grimaced, shaking his head. “As I was saying about the Federation behind us,” he said under his breath. “You know the Changelings have all but buggered out, leaving the Jem Hadar and Vorta to fend for themselves.” He paused, watching as Rue nodded, still eyeing him skeptically. “It’s not a very stable situation, and several powers are lining up to take advantage -- the Kalith being one of them.

 

“Toward the end of the war, intelligence sources reported Dominion R&D was working on some sort of...superweapon, something that would cast the war in their favor. The war ended before they had much of a chance to play with it, but the key research facility was located within the Hakar Empire. That facility is now in the hands of the Kalith.”

 

“Oh lovely. That explains a wee bit about the firefight we walked into.” She paused, trying slide this new information into what she all ready knew. “I think.”

 

The commander smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, wait -- it gets better.”

 

“Just like Christmas and Birthdays all rolled up into one, isn’t it? What more do you have for me, luv?”

 

“Well,” he drawled, “the data we downloaded just might indicate that the Hakarians have stolen that data from the Kalith. Using a spy, or maybe a double agent.”

 

“Wow, it does getting better and better.” Rue actually grinned instead showing worry about this new information - like she should have been. “What’s next? Any spoilers?”

 

“Spoilers would be really helpful at the moment, actually...which brings me around to why I called.” Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “We need eyes and ears in your meetings with the Hakarians and the Kalith. The Director is going through proper channels to ask for assistance from Swain, but...”

 

“But...?”

 

“But I’m not entirely certain how far Swain can be trusted -- or even how useful he’d be as an intelligence asset. Whereas you --”

 

“Are an old friend you can trust.” There’s the second shoe, she thought.

 

He at least had the grace to give a sheepish smile. “Something like that, yeah.”

 

“This is the first time you’ve asked me to do something like this. Why now?” Rue was cautious. She’d known Mal for the better part of twenty years. While she was pretty sure that several of Mal’s innermost circle (her ex-husband included) suspected that he worked for Intel, they all had a “monkey see no evil” blinders on. Plausible deniablity. It wasn’t until the whole disastrous mission last year that Rue had any official confirmation of what Mal did, when she had to rescue him from out the paranoia of her own crew. Apparently putting the blinders back on after the cat slipped the bag was no longer an option, especially since she’d moved up the ranks to Executive Officer. To make matters worse, she didn’t know where the lines were drawn and how close -- or how far across -- she could stray without getting herself thrown into the furnace. Being burned by Corizon’s previous actions didn’t help much, either.

 

“Honestly? Because we don’t have any other way in; because I know you’re a reliable source. I need observations -- human ones -- to tell the other side of the story, and I can’t get that from a listening post.” He cleared his throat. “And, well, I was rather thought I could trust you not to blow my cover.”

 

Wydown gave him such a look of reproach for thinking that she would ever compromise his position, even when he was asking her to do the same. If he had been within slapping distance, she’d have given him such a thwap to the back of the head right then. She shook her head, scowling rather sourly at Mal. “What is it you want to know?”

 

“They’re going to have stories about what’s going on -- why they’re shooting at one another, and why there was a sabotaged pod drifting in space. I need to know what those are so we can do a little research and try to sort fact from fiction. And trust me -- there’s a lot of fiction going on with these two.”

 

“Exhibit A - our ‘guest’ on board.”

 

“And how is your ‘guest’? Has he regained consciousness?”

 

“Aye, and was questioned a fair bit by our security team. His story wasn’t quite adding up to what we were finding with his escape craft. Apparently after the last round of questioning, he panicked or figured out the jig was up, so he decided to have a right good time in sickbay. Bloody cheeky of him, trying to hold sickbay hostage.” She smirked. “He’s been moved to more accommodating accommodations.”

 

There was a flicker of concern before he could resume his neutral expression. He cleared his throat. “Everyone’s all right?”

 

Wydown was trying very hard not to laugh, highly amused by life or death situations. “No worse for it.” Her facial expression resembled that of a three year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar. “Wellllllll...I sorta gassed the place. Felt it was the most humane way to end the conflict.” Wydown shrugged innocently. “My self defense guru said I wasn’t playing cricket. I should’ve let the Marines storm the place. Oh, and, erm, my CSEC is apparently experiencing some...” she cleared her throat. “...extended effects of the sedative.” She held a hand over her mouth, unaware that the mic could pick anything as she muttered, “Loopy as a loon, that one is.”

 

“Good, good,” Mal replied, visibly relieved despite his best efforts. Leaning in, he rested his elbows on his desk as he tapped a command or two into his terminal. “I’m forwarding you an eyes-only copy of the data we’ve cracked so far. It’s not much more than a barnstormer list: Names of deep-cover Masovian spies, the ones who probably ‘liberated’ the information to begin with. We suspect the spies may be aboard the transport... and so the Kalith want to kill several birds with one phaser shot.”

 

“Um, luv, how much of this can I share with my Captain?” Rue had no blueprints on how this worked. She had started a decent working relationship with Swain and really, really didn’t want to lie to the man. “And how do I share it?”

 

“Townsend will see that Swain gets copies of the report I’ve just sent you, and catch him up to speed on the Kalith situation. I’d, ah, prefer if you not tell him you’re going to feed information back to me, though. Trying to protect my assets.”

 

Wydown cheekily peered over the viewscreen, pretending to examine said ‘assets’. “Your assets look just fine to me” She teased, winked. The two of them had been friends long enough, that a bit of teasing was always in order. “So watch, learn, listen and send information back. Erm, and how do pass on information to you?”

 

Mal smiled. “Phone home,” he replied simply. “I can encrypt the call from my end so the data stays secure.”

 

“You telling me this whole conversation has been encrypted?”

 

“Yep,” he said, popping the “p.” “Never call Excalibur without it...well, rarely.”

 

“I hope this isn’t going to become a habit between us,” Rue pulled a face. “This is only a one-off, so to speak, aye?”

 

“Can’t guarantee, but, for the record, I didn’t want to ask.”

 

She should have probably hesitated more when she answered, but that was one of her weakiness, “All right, I trust you.” and she did. She trusted him not to lead her into a Corizon-sized trap. She nodded. “Anything else, mate?”

 

“At the moment, no.” He leaned back in his chair, once again folding his arms across his chest as he regarded her. “S’pose I’ll owe you a drink after this, hm?”

 

“Was there ever any doubt?” Rue smirked. “Perhaps I should prepare a tab, hmmm?”

 

“Let’s just say I’d rather not make this a habit... But I do pay my debts.” He paused, looking down, then back up, keeping his chin lowered. “Most of the time.”

 

“Bollocks! You still owe me for the last time,” she snickered softly, then glanced at the chrono. There was another soft curse uttered under her breath before she turned her attention back to the screen. “I’ve got to get moving. I’ve only got a few ticks before I have to be at the senior staff meeting. Check in with ye later, aye?”

 

“Aye,” he echoed. “And good luck.”

 

Rue finger-waved at him as she shut off the comm, then leaned back in her chair. “What the bloody hell did I just agree to?” She sighed softly, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

Another stream of Ralafean poured out of the Executive Officer’s mouth. A sticky widget this one was. She knew that Intel was on the same side as HQ, and providing insight to Alexander into the situation was the right thing to do. But for some reason it felt wrong. Well, not quite wrong, per se, but weird. How does he do it? For how many years now, too? How does he walk this tightrope? Rue pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaled deeply through her mouth, then threw herself back into compiling reports before the staff meeting. She had her own circus act to prepare for.

 

***

Edited January 27, 2012 by Charlotte Matsumura