From: Kenneth Field (envision_at_fidalgo.net)
Date: Mon May 21 2007 - 21:00:04 PDT
" ... What Rough Beast ..."
(continues from Jasmina's "Small Furry Creatures")
Location: GS-2
Stardate: 2.70521.1948
Scene: Deck 6, Trash Compactor
Captain Michael Turlogh Kane was not in the habit of walking softly. Neither did he carry a big stick. But upon paying an obligatory visit to the crime scene where an unidentified Bajoran man had turned up without clothing and without skin, he immediately adopted the former and wished he had the latter.
In the dim distance near the actual compactor the body had been found in hunched a dark figure. The light was so poor he could tell nothing more than that the figure was male ... or a heavy gravity female ... with more than a nodding acquaintance with steroids. Kane stepped quietly closer, listening to see if he could catch anything the figure might utter. But the figure was as quiet as he.
**Going to have to start carrying a pocket phaser,** he thought to himself, glancing about for something he might use as a weapon just in case.
"Prophets!" the dark figure gasped, alerted by Kane's slight shadow crossing the light from the Promenade.
The man stood suddenly, took a step backward and fell over some piece of detritus left behind after O'Patterson's crime scene investigation. Kane leapt forward, fists clenched, but was surprised when the other person rolled lightly out of the fall and came up on his feet in a recognizable self defense stance.
"Who the hell are you?!" they both shouted at each other.
And then Kane knew exactly who the other was. And so did Gene McInnis.
"Prophets," Gene hissed under his breath.
This was not the best way to meet his new commanding officer. Lurking in a dark passage off the Promenade, allowing the man to approach undetected, and then practically falling on his ass in the process ... it was not calculated to make a good impression. And if it had not been Kane, but someone darker, there might have been real trouble ... perhaps one more dead Bajoran.
"Counselor," Kane nodded, the strain seeping out of his angular frame. "Fancy meeting you here."
Realizing for the first time that he'd adopted *neko-achi-dachi* stance, his hands solidly fisted for attack, Gene also relaxed, his face sheepish in the dim ligh.
"You startled me, sir," Gene admitted. "Not many people can get that close to me without me noticing."
"You were ... occupied," Kane observed.
Gene nodded, then feeling that some explanation was warranted, started with a shrug.
"Once Hannibal cleared the scene, I thought it might be valuable to check it over myself."
"You have some skills at forensic investigation that your files don't mention?" Kane asked with a certain sense of humor.
The Bajoran/Scot counselor shook his head.
"I'm trying to establish a profile of the killer based on the evidence Hannibal's provided me, comparing it with known felons in this sector. I'd like to help the investigation any way I can."
"Was this a request from O'Patterson's office?" Kane wanted to know, folding his arms across his chest, a piece of errant light winking off the four pips at his throat.
"No, sir. Personal initiative."
"Is this some of the *kamikaze lemming* behavior Rochelli noted in your file? Is this something I can expect from you in the future?"
Gene wasn't sure where this was going. He'd heard the man was a hard case, but he couldn't possibly be opposed to initiative among his senior officers. Could he? And the comment he'd gleaned from one of Isabella Rochelli's command evaluations of him was a shot straight out of left field. Then he knew how to answer. Kane was pushing him, just to see what would happen.
"I've come a long way from that evaluation, Captain. But initiative is something I've tried never to stifle in myself ... or my staff."
"That's right. You've been a commanding officer, haven't you? The SUTTNER. The EIDOLON."
Gene's face went blank, but his eyes gleamed in the dim light.
Kane smiled tightly.
"I know what it's like to lose a ship," Kane told the other man.
Gene looked closer at the man, letting his eyes drift slowly out of focus. Kane thought he saw the Counselor's eyes roll back into his head for just a moment.
"Prophets," Gene whispered for the third time. "Cathain."
"What did you say?" Kane snapped, his fists balling up unconsciously. Later he would notice that his nails had cut small semicircles into the palms of both hands.
Gene's mouth was dry. The bulkheads seemed much closer than before, and he was breathing heavily. But he heard the edge in his commanding officer's voice, knew the man wasn't kidding now, wasn't pushing. He was furious, and holding it in, and he was scared, too. Gene could hear it in his voice.
"I don't know the word," he admitted. "I just ... heard it."
"Heard it?"
"I have a sort of knack, I guess you could say. I know when something bad is about to happen. Or at least I used to. It hasn't happened in awhile. This time, when it did, I heard that word." He said it again. "What does it mean to you?"
Kane turned on his heel and began to stalk away.
"It's my name," he snapped, but he never stopped walking.
Gene stood alone in the shadows.
"Well, that went well."
-------------------- =/\=
NRPG: Jerome! Welcome aboard. Wanted a try at Michael Kane. Hope I did him justice. Thanks for the background stuff. It really helped. I didn't think the initial meeting should be without difficulties, though I think eventually the men might come to trust each other, even if they never became friends. Let me know what you think. Oh, yeah, do you recognize where the title comes from?
-------------------- =/\=
Kenneth Field
envision_at_fidalgo.net
aka Commander Gene McInnis
CNS/GS-2
aka Lt. JG Mowree Nurunyon
aCNS/GS-2
aka Tomas' Alexei Vukovic
Former Chief of Staff to Ambassador Xana Bonviva
currently with the BORG
aka Maury R. Tee
Professor of English (Retired)
Proprietor of "Impulse Drives,"
a little shop of horrors
GS-2, Promenade
"To gently lie and prove the lie true ... everything is finally a promise ... what
seems a lie is ramshackle need, wishing to be born." -- Ray Bradbury
From HyperNews_at_youth.net
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