Suspect Answers...

Posted on Thu Jan 27th, 2011 @ 10:56am by Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Mantell & Adam Parker

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: Braken Colony
Timeline: Immediately Following "Out and About"

As the Romulan woman and his captain disappeared in a haze of blueish-white light, the small child stared at the spot where the sickened woman had laid. The marks on her face and hands, the paleness of her skin had shocked the boy. His duty had prevented him from feeling much more than surprise at the woman's condition, but with her absence and the loss of his captain's presence as well, the boy felt sick to his stomach. It took all of his willpower to hold back his breakfast.

Jack was an Engineer, or at least he used to be. His comfort was with machines. When machines broke, they just needed to be repaired, or replaced. If he didn't have the parts, and couldn't replicate them, then the machine just got bypassed or jury-rigged until the parts arrived. The machines didn't change color, they didn't get livid marks. They might leak or explode, but that mess was easy to clean. A person... a person had to be cured. Heal. Recover. Sometimes it took therapy. Machines didn't need therapy, only observation and maintenance. Some were temperamental and exacting, some required 'breaking in,' but none of them ever got sick. Not like the people here were, not like this.

The boy looked up for his companion, his leader, the realization suddenly struck that he was on his own. Alone. Cowell might return in a few minutes, or he might not, but for the moment he was gone. Jack had no one to rely on, but still a mission to complete. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, just as his stomach jumped into his throat. An odd paradox for an odd sensation. Swallowing, as if it would push his stomach back to its rightful place, the Miran closed his eyes, searching for...something, he did not know what. Courage? Skills? Composure? Reprieve?

He nearly jumped out of his skin as a voice intruded his thoughts. Wheeling around, the boy opened his eyes and looked up to see the Colonial Administrator -what had he said his name was?- looking nearly as pale-white as the Romulan woman had. His hands came up in a defensive posture as he took a step back, tripping over the feet of his chair and landing unceremoniously into it.

It took a few moments for Jack's mind to piece together what the official had spoken, but an instant later, when he had it, his expression changed. Gone was the nervousness, the uncertainty that might have gone head-to-head with the administrator's own. Now only fierce determination remained, fed by a column of anger. Anger at the colony's refusal to warn the Arizona about their situation. Anger at the administrator's own attempt to hide the Romulan woman, who clearly needed treatment. Anger at the sickness, at disease itself, for ever daring to set foot on this soil.

His face set in a glare that would have made even his previous shipmates jump, Jack stalked toward the desk. When he reached it, he leaned over it, placing his hands on the smooth, wooden surface to give himself more leverage. His eyes met the administrators, not faltering, barely even blinking. Slowly, the boy spoke, but the words were no longer a child's. Now they were Lieutenant Commander Mantell's, they were the Arizona's Executive Officer's words. "So explain!"

Adam sank down in his chair, more from the shock that such a diminutive boy could have such a demanding tone all of a sudden than the sheer intimidation factor alone. He struggled with his thoughts for a minute, formulating the most plausible excuse that came to mind before settling on the one that made the most sense to him at the time.

"She's a refugee. She came to us a few months ago... I kept her presence under wraps because I didn't want people to think we were being invaded. She usually keeps to herself in a small home a few kilometers outside of the farthest farm we have. She came to me for help, but I didn't know what to do. It was just coincidence that she came today of all days..." Adam rushed through the narrative a little faster than he might have preferred.

The boy took this in, filing much of it away for future reference. The administrator had allowed a Romulan refugee to run around unattended on a Federation planet? What an idiot. Among the facts, however, Jack spotted an elusive omission. "She's sick, didn't you notice?"

"Yes, but I haven't seen her in some time. I didn't know she was until she came to my office this morning. She must have thought I had some means to help her... If it hadn't been for your ship, I don't think I could have been much more help than someone to be close to if that disease took her life..." Adam said in a helpless tone.

"Oh," Jack said simply. The Miran stood up straight, taken somewhat aback by the administrator's response. He hadn't expected the man's ignorance of her situation. He slumped into the chair positioned in front of the desk. "Don't you guys have doctors? Medicine? The Captain told me a whole bunch of people are sick, so there has to be someone here treating them."

"The medical supplies that went missing were supposed to help the people. We've been waiting for the Federation to bring them to us for several months. Our doctors, at least most of them, are victims of this plague just like the rest of the population. It's only a miracle that some of us haven't gotten the disease..." Adam explained.

"Months?" the Miran boy raised his eyebrows, coming as close as he could to the typical Vulcan expression. He knew the planet's inhabitants were sick, but for months? He thought the Federation sent routine supplies to all colonies that asked for them, border colony or no. "When did the virus, I mean, the sickness start? And how come not everyone is sick?"

"I told you, a few months ago. At first it acted like just another cold... it wasn't until a month or so ago that people started to get the lesions and some actually died. As for how the sickness works... who knows? None of our physicians have come close to an answer on that front. There's no common bond here... it hit every walk of life we have. We're stumped... and I was hoping that you and your crew would have better luck than we ever did," the Colonial Administrator offered.

Jack sat up in his chair, narrowing his eyes, "Why didn't you call for a Federation Medical ship? The Arizona is a war-err, umm, what do they call it?" The boy paused for a minute, trying to think of the official designation for the Prometheus class. "A Long Tactical Cruiser or something. Lots of guns, not a very big sickbay. I mean, we can try, but we don't have oodles of doctors. I mean, the CO is one, but that doesn't mean we're a Medical ship."

"I don't know why Starfleet sent your ship... I just know you have better equipment than our colony. Even if you're supposed to be a warship, you've got doctors, you have scientists... You can do more for us than we can do for ourselves," the man surmised.

"Of course we'll do whatever we can. That's Starfleet's mission," the boy asserted, nodding his head. He just didn't have to like helping them. If the entire colony was made up of Adam Parkers, the Away Team was really in for it. "I just need to know something else." Jack paused, expecting some kind sort of exasperation from the administrator. These types always seemed to dramatize the tiniest sorts of delays or frustrations, so when the long sigh came, the Miran was quite nonplussed. "How long has the Romulan, you never mentioned her name, by the way, been here?"

Adam didn't answer right away. His eyes darted back and forth a few times trying to come up with a nice ballpark figure, "A few months... not more than four I'd imagine..."

This Miran had handled leaking bio-gel packs that were less slimy than the administrator. Where was Cowell, anyways? That man would have Parker coughing out answers, real answers, in no time. The boy could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes at Parker's evasive response. "And you've never checked up on her in that time? You didn't meet with her, have lunch or anything?" For the head of a Federation colony near the Romulan Neutral Zone, this man certainly didn't seem to be very competent. That, or he was outright lying. Jack goaded the man further, "Never more than a couple times?"

"Look, Commander... my personal life is my own. If I met her for any reason, it wasn't to run a tricorder over her and find out if she was sick... And that woman is reclusive by nature anyway, so my not having seen her in a span of time long enough for her to be ill isn't exactly out of the ordinary," Adam said, sounding truly frustrated by the question, and for once his answer was halfway honest.

Not for the first time in that mission, Jack wished he was still an Engineer. For all their temperaments, quirks and, yes, even personalities, at least machines were straightforward. In the last ten minutes, the boy felt as if he'd waded through a waist-deep pile of much, rather than having spoken to a colonial official. Standing up, though not without the urge to brush off his pants, the boy gave the man a polite smile, "Well, I should let you get back to work, huh? I'm sure you have lots of that to do. If you need me for anything, let me know." Without waiting for the administrator to respond, Jack headed back for the office door. Behind him, the man might have mumbled something like 'good riddance,' but the boy paid it no mind.

Somewhere on this colony, the Away Team would find answers. If not with the Colonial Administrator, then elsewhere. Jack was sure of it, he could almost feel it.