by Chris Hechtl
“For?”
“For um,” he recovered after a beat then smiled. “ …helping me out. I mean, I am a complete noob at being a flag lieutenant, ma'am. Thank you for showing me the ropes,” he said.
“No problem. You've got plenty of mentors to draw on here I suppose. Don't just limit yourself to my viewpoint,” she said.
He nodded. “Thank you, ma'am. Are you and um …,” he frowned.
She smiled, letting him off the hook. “Admiral Zekowitz is okay. I believe he is considering taking some liberty. You might want to do it too sometime, you know, see the sights,” she said.
He nodded. “I'll look into it, ma'am. It's not like we're in any tearing hurry,” he said, shaking his head.
“Hang in there,” she said with a pat on his arm as she left him.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Horatio had noted Lieutenant Fazim was stalking him. He was running into her too often, including when he was off duty. “Here are the morning reports, sir,” a familiar male voice said. He looked up to see Pietro setting a chip on his desk.
He nodded thoughtfully. He took the chip, but his finger lingered as the lieutenant passed him an encrypted file through the physical contact. He frowned ever so slightly, then sat back and put the chip in his desk reader. He applied his decrypt key to the internal message. The original message was unsigned.
It was confirmation that he was being set-up for something nasty by Lieutenant Fazim and whoever was backing her. He nodded slowly.
“I ran into Lieutenant Si on the way in. She said Admiral Zekowitz is considering taking some liberty, sir. She recommended I do the same. I've been thinking about it, but I'm not much for groundside activities. I suppose visiting a theme park or two might be fun, but I just don't really see the interest without friends to go along with,” Pietro said with a shrug.
The commodore nodded as he rocked his chair a little. That told him who had sent the file, he thought. “I know the feeling. The problem is, we make friends in the service. Arranging for concurrent time off is a pain in the ass,” he said.
“I … yes sir, I can see that being a problem,” the lieutenant replied with a grimace.
“I did get to go groundside last weekend as you know. I didn't see the sights as much, just visited Moira's family and delivered the packages to her nieces and nephews, plus her mail,” Horatio said. He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his index finger. “I suppose I too should go look around.”
“Go hunting or fishing, sir?” Pietro suggested.
“Heaven forbid,” Horatio chuckled. “I'm a spacer born and bred. I've seen a lot of the planet from the TV; I wouldn't mind going on a tour. But like you I'd prefer to do it with someone, a local guide. I'll look into it,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Pietro said.
“If you run into the lieutenant again, see if she can recommend some places to visit. I was interested in some of the engineering monuments of course,” Horatio said. “I suppose since I'm a spacer I really shouldn't just limit myself to Thebes, right?” he asked thoughtfully, looking up to the ceiling. “Maybe I'll check that out after work. For the moment,” he turned his attention to the chip he'd loaded. He entered his password and then pulled up the contents. “This doesn't look like it is too bad,” he said.
“No, sir.”
“I'll divide it up. I'll e-mail you and the senior staff the assignments in a few minutes,” Horatio said. “In the meantime, check my schedule. I may want to move things around, so keep that in mind.” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Pietro said with a nod.
“Carry on then,” Horatio said by way of dismissal as he dived into the morning's assignment.
As he divided it up, he decided it would be best to change his off-duty routine. Change his route home, make things a bit more difficult for her. That should throw her off he thought.
He wondered briefly if whoever had sicked her on him was also the one monitoring him and the team. Most likely but he could be wrong. It could be different people. He still wasn't certain as to why … paranoia wasn't enough to excuse what was going on.
He frowned thoughtfully. When he finished the document, he e-mailed the orders off to his staff then let his fingers hover over the keyboard. He pulled up a virtual keyboard through his implants and documented everything he'd experienced with Lieutenant Fazim up to that point in time. He attached bookmarks and set-up a script to record every encounter with the woman and to keep a running log.
He had a sneaking suspicion he might need it. He hoped not but better to be prepared, he thought grimly.
~<><{<^>}><>~
“Sir,” Lieutenant Si said as she put the morning's orders and memos on the admiral's desk. “I've been hearing some odd things about Commodore Logan's command. Apparently, he has a lady interested in him,” she said.
“Oh?” Zek asked, clearly amused by the scuttlebutt. “That was fast. Did he pick her up when he went groundside last weekend?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No sir, it's a lady around his office,” she said, eyeing him. She saw him stiffen.
“Oh?” he asked in a cooler tone of voice.
“Yes, sir. I thought I'd put in a word …,” she cut herself off when the admiral sat up straight and grimly locked eyes with her.
“Don't interfere, Oprah,” Zek said bluntly. He looked around the room and then grimaced. “Hang on a sec, let me go through this and then I'll be back with you,” he said. He loaded the file into his desk computer, pulled it up, and then used a virtual keyboard over the real one to tap out a message to her. “Do you understand why ONI is so big?” he asked her in a text.
She frowned then shook her head.
“Spies. Who is there to spy on?” he texted. He tugged on one ear lobe. She frowned, not sure about the implications he was trying to get across to her. She knew it was important. “ONI is supposed to look for ways to beat intruders. Ways to beat the Xenos should they come. It also keeps tabs on the political situation and any potential terrorist threats. But its biggest job is monitoring people of interest. Like, us for instance,” he texted her.
Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly caught on. She was suddenly glad she'd passed the file to Pietro through a peer-to-peer text instead of through the network or out loud. She'd known the net was monitored but hadn't known it was ONI or why up until that moment. “I'll leave it alone, sir. I know it's not supposed to be our concern but,” she shrugged. “Old habits die hard I suppose, sir,” she admitted out loud.
“Good,” he said out loud for the recorders. “Horatio is a big boy; he can look after himself. Dismissed,” he said to her with a flick of his hand.
Lieutenant Si nodded, about-faced, and marched out stiffly. She was even more confused by the situation, but decided in her own interest that she should indeed back off and let things play out. She'd gotten her warning off; that was the best she could do.
~<><{<^>}><>~
First Lieutenant Fazim bit her lip but decided to dive right in and take the bull by the horns. She couldn't engineer something off duty, so she'd been left with few if any options in her decision tree.
She was constantly being pressured to get somewhere by her bosses.
She finally got her chance and cornered Horatio while he was at work. When she saw him head to the supply closet, she unbuttoned the top of her uniform blouse to mid line with her breasts, then she spritzed herself with a cocktail of perfume and pheromones guaranteed to drive a human male wild. She primed her hair, checked her makeup, touched up a little bit, then adjusted her bra and scooted out of her office before he could finish in the closet.
She grinned as she managed to get him reasonably alone in the supply closet. “Lieutenant,” the commodore said, looking over his shoulder as she came into the small room and shut the door behind her. He turned back to the box he'd been reaching for up above his head.
“Sir,” she said in a husky voice as she, moved in closer. The perfume in the enclosed space would get to him fast she knew.
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He'd noted her approach through his implants. He also detected her scent. He used his implants to shut off the olfactory nerve in his nasal cavity. That was a handy feature; it let him shut out horrible stenches when he had to work.
“It would be easier to get what you need with the two of us in here if you'd left the door open,” he said as he went back to grabbing the edge of the box.
“I'll just be a minute,” she murmured. She brushed past him, making certain her breasts brushed his chest.
“Got it. Watch your head,” he said as he pulled the box down. He caught it as it tipped, then angled away from her. The top of the box brushed her head. “Sorry about the dust. I did warn you,” he said as he angled away. He stepped back and tucked the box under one arm as he touched the door handle with his free hand. He opened it and then used his right heel to push it open.
“Sir …,” she said, stopping him as he started to back out.
“Yes?”
“Can you um, get me that?” she asked, pointing to another box up on the top shelf. “I'm too short,” She said as she dusted her hair off.
“Let's see,” Horatio said. He set his box down and then stepped back to see the box she had indicated. “You really need cleaning supplies?” he asked, reading the label.
“Yes, um, I think,” she said.
“Okay,” he drawled. Instead of wading in and trying to reach for it on his toes he got smart. He pulled out a step stool, unfolded it, and then set it up in front of the shelf.
“Oh! I can do it now I think,” she said in a soft mezzo as she stepped on the stool. He noted she was in high heels, not quite regulation. The cut of her uniform wasn't quite regulation either. He stepped back and aside.
Tali noted he wasn't looking and frowned as she pretended to reach for the box. She went on one foot and reached … and put herself off balance. “Oh!” she said as she slipped.
He instinctively caught her in his arms and then he set her down. “Careful,” he said gruffly.
“My hero,” she said huskily as she straightened her uniform. He stepped on the stool as she brushed herself off and grabbed the box then pulled it forward, then took it down for her. He felt her hand on his hip as she “made certain he wouldn't fall.”
He set the box on the floor. “There you go, Lieutenant,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” she said with a smile. He started to leave, but she cleared her throat. “Can you put it back when I get what I need? I don't want someone tripping on it,” she said.
“I'm certain I can have Yeoman Barry handle it,” he said as he gathered up his own box. He felt her anger and noted the changes in her thermal profile. He hid a smile as she pretended to bend over and show him a lot of leg and ass as she rifled through the box.
“What is it that you were after, sir? If you don't mind my asking?” she asked.
“A portable holo emitter. I was told there was an old one here,” he said. He took the opportunity to look at his own prize. There was the top of a rather dusty and battered device. “It's here. My source told me it is out of focus and has issues. I might be able to get it to work, I'm not sure. It depends on if I can find a source of parts,” he mused.
“Oh,” she said as she pretended to pull a bottle out, and then hold it at arm's length as she looked at the label. “Why do they make the lettering so small? Can you read this, sir?” she asked.
He cocked his head. “That is brass cleaner, Lieutenant,” he said in a neutral tone of voice. She blinked. “Most of the materials in that box aren't really suited for this office. They may also be expired,” he said.
She looked at it. “Oh, so it is. I must have picked the wrong box,” she said. She frowned prettily and set the cleaner into the box and then pulled out another. “Now this one …”
“You are wasting time, Lieutenant—yours and mine,” Horatio said, voice still neutral. “Let the cleaning service deal with what needs cleaning. That's their job. You have an assignment,” he reminded her.
“Yes, sir, I just thought I'd dig it out and leave a note,” she said, thinking fast.
“Sure you did,” Horatio said, patience near its end. She stared at him. “Don't think I don't know why you are here. I did some digging, and I know,” he said, locking eyes with her. “It isn't going to work. I've been on to you from day one,” he said just as a sailor came around the corner. The Veraxin skidded to a halt and waited.
“I … sir, I don't know what to say. You must be misunderstanding …,” her hand went over her heart. He could tell from her thermal profile that she was angry. She did a good job of feigning hurt and surprise though, he noted.
“Can it. I'm looking at your thermal profile, Lieutenant; I can tell when someone is lying to me. I also noted your perfume. You weren't wearing it earlier, but you dosed yourself rather heavily just before you came into the supply closet,” he said.
“Ah, so that is what that smell is,” the sailor said quietly. “Powerful pheromones,” the Veraxin clacked, signaling second-level amusement. “The female wishes to mate.”
“Yes, I know. But not with me,” Horatio said, eyes cutting to the Veraxin, then to the lieutenant. She was standing there indignant. “Not now, not ever.”
“Sir …”
“I want you to perform with the utmost decorum with any and all personnel at all times, Lieutenant. There will be no soap opera games on my watch. Is that understood?” he demanded, voice flat and cold.
“Yes, sir,” she said, standing at attention.
“Save the tear act too. Go back to work,” he said. He turned to the Veraxin. “The both of you,” he said, noting the Veraxin's identity for later.
“Yes, sir,” the Veraxin said instantly. He backed up, pivoted, and then took off as fast as his four legs could carry him.
He turned to see Tali had stormed off, chastened but clearly seething.
Horatio nodded to himself once. He double checked that he'd recorded the entire incident and logged it with a verbal reprimand note. He made certain to tag the Veraxin as a witness.
He noticed she'd left the box behind. He snorted and took his own prize back to his office to explore and tinker with. As he walked through the office, he considered the situation, noting the wary looks from the staff. He nodded politely to a few as he brushed past their desks. All heads tracked him he noted.
He went past Yeoman Barry and into his office. By the time he'd entered, he'd come to a decision. He needed to get rid of the woman. She was a viper, and he'd put her and her backer on notice that he was on to them. Probably not smart in a long-term strategic sense, He might have been able to track her to find out who was behind her, but he dismissed that idea. That sort of thing only worked in movies; he thought as he set the box down on the table.
No, he needed to get rid of her. She could construe the incident as an unwanted advance on his part, but with the witness …. Well, they could try to blackmail the sailor into changing his story, but he also had his recording. No, he'd nipped her in the bud and put her in her place. It was time to be rid of her.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Lieutenant Fazim was spitting mad over the dressing down. She was also wary of what her bosses would say. She nervously made her report and then was dismissed.
It was clear from the attitude in the room that the officers were amused and disappointed by the outcome. Admiral Hill was the first to say something. “We've got no leverage on the man,” Admiral Hill observed. “None at all. We have only what they told us about his activities in Pyrax too. And his record is clean,” she said, looking at the Veraxin head of BuPers.
“What about using the encounter as a threat? Doctor it …,” N'r'm'll asked.
“A he said, she said?” The Neochimp admiral asked, raising an eyebrow skyward.
“And his reprimand could be construed as his using his position to blackmail her into it,” the Veraxin responded eagerly.
Admiral Hill shook her head. “It won't work.”
That brought the
Veraxin up short. “Why not?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
“He has implants, which means he's got records, everywhere he's been, seen, heard, and accessed. Irons ran into a similar situation but far uglier in Pyrax. I've done my research. The implant log will say if he violated the regs or not.”
The Veraxin turned to Admiral Childress. “Oh.” Admiral Childress scowled, mouth puckering. “Damn.”
“I know. You keep looking for a knockout punch,” Admiral Draken said with a shake of his head.
“The man is as pure as snow. No man is like that! He's been single for how long? Is he gay or something?” Admiral Childress demanded. “Did we zig instead of zag here?”
“Look, it is still useful as an ambiguous charge. We can keep it in our inventory primed. Sully his image,” Admiral N'r'm'll said soothingly. “Let enough time pass and memories fade. Files can be adjusted …”
Admiral Hill shook her head vehemently no. “I'm telling you it won't work. It will let him and others know he has real enemies—political and senior officer ones. He's got the ear of Irons; that won't go over well.”
Admiral Draken grimaced. “True.”
“Damn it …,” Admiral Childress muttered, looking away.
Admiral N'r'm'll looked down at his tablet as it pinged softly. “And he just threw a bit of fuel onto the fire.” He signaled second-level frustration.
“Oh?”
“It seems he just put in for Fazim's transfer as far away from him as possible. He's kept the reason for the request vague but it's there.”
“Lovely. A transfer won't look good on her record. She'll be pissed.”
“Which means we need to find a way to keep her happy and quiet. We don't want this getting out.”
“So it just turned around and bit us in the ass. Oh, what fun,” Admiral Hill sighed.
“We need to find a way to spike his guns. To take him out of play,” Admiral Childress said. “Permanently if possible. But not in a way that leads back to us,” he said, glancing at Admiral Draken.