Bio: Margaux Chéri Rogét

[LtCmdr Roget 0]

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The information that is to follow is for historical relevance only.  No such records exist in StarFleet historical data or personnel files.  Under no conditions would any member of the crew have access to this information or know the details therin.

 

 

 

  "¡El empujón! Empuje a mi ángel. ¡Puedo ver al bebé! ¡El EMPUJON!"  

 

   Alejandra Francisca Poloma de Cortez  looked up, sweat running into her eyes, as her brother cheered her on to push.  The baby.  HER baby.  She couldn't wait to hold her precious bebé in her arms.  Amedeo Carlos Diego de Cortez let out a whoop of joy as the tiny offspring slid into his hands.  "She is beautiful, mi ángel, just like you!"  He leaned forward placing the squalling newborn into it's mother's arms.  Alejandra stared down at her first born and smiled.  "Have you chosen a name?" Amedeo asked, caution in his voice.

 

   "I have, and do not fear, brother.  Though she is as much Irish as she is Spanish, she will bear the de Cortez name.  One day I will tell her of her father."  Alejandra looked down again at her daughter and whispered, "mi querido hermoso."  Alejandra refused to argue with her brother again about Kier Malcolm Cummings.  He had left.  That was his choice.  Now she had a choice to make, "we shall call her, Mercedes Viviana Francisca de Cortez."

 

 

*****

 

 

   "Hurry Mercedes!" Amedeo called through the hallways of the large apartment he shared with his niece in Barcelona, "Hurry!  It is time to leave!  What is taking you so long?"  He pushed open the door to her bedroom, and found her sitting on her bed, a picture frame in her hands.  "Ah, mi ángel, tell me what is troubling you."  Amedeo sat down, placing a comforting arm around his nieces shoulders.

 

   "Do we really have to leave, Tío?  My only memories of Mama are here, and I'm afraid that once we leave I will stop remembering her."  Mercedes looked down the picture she held.  Alejandra was dressed in carnaval costume.  Her black hair piled high and her eyes shining with merriment.  "Someone has found out who you are, is that it?  Her green eyes met his with a frank determination that was well beyond her eleven years.

 

   Amedeo looked down at his niece.  "How would you know about that?" he asked, secretly pleased that she had come to conclusion on her own.  After Alejandra had died, Amedeo had taken Mercedes to Special Operations Headquarters in Barcelona to have her abilities, if she possessed any, tested.  She had a gift for linguistics, and already could speak Catalan, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Italian, and English.  She also proved to have a very analytical mind and, if groomed properly, would be an excellent strategist and tactician.  All of which could prove very useful in the future.

 

   "Tío?  You didn't answer my question.  Your cover has been," Mercedes groped for the right words, "exploded?"

 

   "Blown," mi querido, "blown."  Amedeo's rich laughter filled the room.  "And yes, my cover has been, blown and it is better if we left Barcelona for the time being.  You will continue your studies of course, and soon I will begin to teach you all that I know so you will be prepared for your life in my world."

 

 

*****

 

 

The villa were they had lived for the past ten years was as beautiful as they day they had arrived.  Amedeo told her it was called Joya por el Mar, the Jewel by the Sea and as Mercedes stood on the beach of Sa Riera Aiguafreda, below the villa, it was easy to see how their home got its name.  The white stucco facade, capped by dark pink clay tiles made it look like a giant pearl.  She turned and settled herself down under a large umbrella, cursing again her fair skin.  Mercedes was a Spaniard, but looked every bit like her Irish father.  She had bright green eyes that were fringed with dark full lashes.  Her creamy milk white skin was dotted with small freckles on her nose and shoulders.  Her long straight nose and high cheekbones were reminiscent of her Viking ancestors.  A small dust devil circled near to where she was seated causing her hair to blow across her eyes.  Mercedes hair was her most striking feature.  Her thick red-gold hair hung in long graceful curves over her shoulders.  Absently, she pushed it back behind her ears and thought again of the life ahead of her.

 

   Amedeo stood on the terrace of the villa looking down at the beach where his niece lounged.  His heart ached at the thought of losing her, but it was time.  She had excelled in the small assignments given her and tomorrow she would forever cease to exist as his sobrina, his mi querido, his Mercedes.  He felt his heart tighten and had to swallow back the tears that threatened to spill and he quietly cursed himself.  He, Amedeo Carlos Diego de Cortez, one of the most powerful Black Operative Commanders in the history of Starfleet was standing on a villa terrace weeping over an agent, but in his heart she was not just an agent.  She was family.

 

 

*****

 

 

   She stood in front of the mirror, moving her fingers through her hair looking for any traces of the surgery. The General, her uncle, and she thought wistfully of their tearful goodbye, had assured her that there would be no scaring and that the cranial implant would serve as asset to her in the years to come.  "Are you ready, Megan?" Amedeo asked from the doorway.  Mercedes' features had not  been altered, but her fingerprints had been changed, as well a slight change to her retinal *fingerprint*, and a tag had been added to her DNA to alter it just enough that she could never be linked to her past life as Mercedes or to her Uncle. Her vocal cords had also been altered.

 

   She smiled at the use of her new name, Megan Siobhan Cummings.  "I am ready, General."  Gone was the Catalan accent that was native to her.  Instead her voice was lower and carried a slight Irish lilt.  She smiled.  "I know that one day this voice will be as common to me as it was before, but for right now I feel like I'm listening to a stranger."  

 

   Amedeo smiled and handed her a PADD.  "Your assignment," He said quietly. "You are to be assigned to a man named Melville.  I don't like him, but if I had changed the orders a connection between the two of us would have been established, and you don't need my enemies coming after you."  Amedeo smiled.  "I'm sure you'll make enough of your own, but this Melville character, watch your back with him."

 

   "Never trust anyone, isn't that the first lesson you taught me?"

 

 

*****

 

tbc....