A Change in Plans

[Chirakis 1]

A Change in Plans

 

Resting her elbows on her office desk, Captain Chirakis steepled her fingers not so much in thought but to conquer a multitude of emotions that threatened to emerge as she concentrated on the secure feed from SI-5.

 

Onscreen, one of Starfleet Section Five’s youngest and most capable operatives, Sonny Lucas, sat propped up in a biobed, medical personnel hovering close by. His cocky attitude and the swagger that all too often came with youth had dissolved in the face of stark reality. Now the worn, broken warrior continually warded off his medical guardians, insisting on delivering his own report, his face set in grim determination clouded with rage and a promise of revenge.

 

Despite his resolve, his hands trembled. His normally immaculate blond hair was matted and shaved in several places, and his swollen face was dotted with dermal regenerating sutures. Sentences came in bursts with long pauses between phrases to catch his breath. To his right stood Resssk, SI-5’s only Gorn and one of the few in Starfleet.

 

‘...so, yeah,” Sonny spat, then paused for breath. “You want intel, I got intel.... damn, do I have intel. Only thing I ask is that I come with you, Chir,” he paused again, his eyes piercing through subspace, “...but that ain’t gonna happen, is it?”

 

Kirel set her jaw, momentarily dropping her hands to speak, “Daniyyel was a good man.”

 

“Damn straight, Chir.... Damn straight. Tried to save him, Cap... tried,” Sonny’s eyes began to wander; Resssk’s mandibles clacked softly as his hand reached to rest on Sonny’s shoulder. “Tried,” he repeated, gazing at the ceiling, “...but there was nothing I could do to help him... and now he’s gone.”

 

“I promise you, Lieutenant, his death will be avenged. If not by you, then by me.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah,” he sighed, his lips pressed tight and trembling.

 

“Rest, Lieutenant,” said Kirel after a long pause. “Resssk?”

 

“Here, Captain.” The Gorn stepped away from his teammate to take a station on the opposite side of the room.

 

“Though I understand the relevance of this information, do you realize that by contacting me directly you endanger the integrity of your position with Starfleet?”

 

The Gorn gave a low growl, his tail giving a thud in emphasis. “And what do I care of that, Captain?”

 

“And it could compromise any upcoming missions?”

 

“We have no upcoming missions, Captain.” a clack of his mandibles emphasized what passed for a grin. “The report is merely for your information.”

 

“And t’Pak?”

 

“She has degraded her species to pursue the matter of which the lieutenant spoke.”

 

After a moment of thought and a raised brow, Kirel nodded. The Vulcan member of their team was “degrading her species” by masquerading as a Romulan. She, herself, did not consider it degradation; for a Vulcan she was exceptionally good at displaying her emotions when undercover. However, the Gorn’s thinly veiled message made t’Pak’s destination and purpose quite obvious, and Kirel wondered if that would help or hinder their mission.

 

“I see. Well, then,” leaning forward in her chair, she lightened her tone. “I’ve decided to take some time off. My good friend, Nero, is investigating several asteroid belts on the periphery of Aegis space. He’s looking for richer mines to make up for the profits he lost during the devastation of his home planet. And... he’s invited me with a promise of a side-trip to an interesting tourist destination,” she said with enthusiasm. “It’s enticing. Difficult to turn down.”

 

Again the Gorn’s mandibles clacked, this time repeatedly and forcefully. Definitely not in amusement.

 

“You’re not pleased I’m taking time off? I am due.”

 

“I am always pleased when you have an invitation to relax, Captain, especially when you are able to leave the station and its concerns far behind. But now is not the time.”