From: Kenneth Field (envision_at_fidalgo.net)
Date: Tue Aug 21 2007 - 13:04:32 PDT
"What Is 3000 Politicians Under the Sea?"
(continues from Sarah's "The Kitchen Cabinet")
Location: GS-2
Stardate: 2.70821.1207
Scene: Cafe' Nervosa
Maury R. Tee, Professor of English (Ret.) sat quietly at a table just outside a small coffeehouse on the Promenade. It was a place known to be frequented from time to time by a certain BORG former Chief of Staff for Xana Bonviva, but that was not his reason for being there. The business day had not yet begun. His shop, Impulse Drives, was just across the Promenade, and he had decided to open a bit late to accomodate the arrival of a certain Bolian he intended to mold like clay in the master's hands.
He liked to watch people. Academia wasn't big on the observation of people, unless you were involved in culture-centric disciplines. English, by any stretch of the imagination, was not such a discipline. It involved considerable reading and mulling time, and involvement with people just slowed this process down. Having left the world of the academic behind, Professor Tee had discovered an even more fascinating study ... people.
He sat in his chair, a cup of tea cooling on the table in front of him, a PADD with the latest station gossip scrolling across it in his hands. He ignored the gossip. He knew most of it already anyway. Like a Moray Eel from the coral reefs of distant TERRA, Professor Tee watched the stationfolk passing by and waited for a tasty morsel to come his way. And it was not long before the Bolian of interest passed by.
"Good morning, Rixx. Have a seat, won't you?"
Zane Rixx stood ten feet away from the man and felt he was not nearly as safe as he would like to be. He doubted, however, that anywhere on the station would be safe for him now.
"I didn't come for a social call," he said bluntly. "You called. I came. What do you want?"
Tee "tutted" under his breath.
"Manners, good sir. Manners. There is never a time when good manners don't improve the flow of the universe. Please, have a seat."
Against his considerable better judgement, Zane Rixx took a seat across the table from the man and wondered just exactly what the old man was. Despite his appearance, he was definitely not human. Humans can't reach over and rip your heart out of your chest. At least they can't do that and leave you still upright afterward.
"Where's your little henchman," Rixx asked, not seeing the security droid anywhere in the vicinity.
"H.W. is performing his function. He is watching over my shop. And I should warn you about sending any more *muscle* his way. He is quite indiscriminate when it comes to protecting my life and my property."
Rixx knew that now. A few days ago he'd had one of his hirelings assemble a small group of men with more need for money than personal safety, and they'd gone to Tee's place of business after hours to "send him a message." The message, of course, was that Rixx wanted his heart back. That message had been delivered, but the rest hadn't worked out as well as Rixx had hoped.
"Contrary to public opinion," Tee went on, "I do kill the messenger who brings bad news. You won't be seeing any of those men again. Unless of course you go to join them."
Rixx shuddered. He had a good imagination.
"Not at this time," he managed a bit of bravado. "As I said, you called. I came. What do you want?"
"Can I get you anything?" Tee ignored the question.
"No," Rixx snapped.
"Very well. To business then," Tee laid aside the PADD he hadn't been reading anyway. "You're aware of the elections to be held."
Rixx nodded. It had never hurt him any to say as little as necessary, particularly when he was at a disadvantage.
"Campaigning has already begun. There are a number of lesser folk running for whatever they decide to call this office. The GATEWAY has a stationmaster, but it doesn't have a legitimate civilian leader at this point, now that Secession has been established. At this time, only one serious contender for that position has appeared. And you know her."
He did indeed. Xana Bonviva. Former CO, former Terran Ambassador, former Federation Ambassador. Former prisoner. Former security officer. Lots of "formers." He wondered if her mate knew about all those "formers."
"I do," he said.
"I am of the firm opinion that no one should ascend to a position of leadership unchallenged," Tee smiled a very sharp, very toothy smile across the table at him.
"You going to oppose her?" Rixx asked. "You want me to dig up dirt on Xana Bonviva?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. I am very much a behind the scenes sort of person," Tee replied. "In all modesty, I do not cut a particularly dashing figure. Politics is not my strongest suit. However, you might have considerably more success at this endeavor."
"Me? You want me to run for ... whatever?"
"Yes," Tee replied.
"I can't win against her. She's too entrenched. And she's legitimate. I have certain connections on station, but legitimacy is not one of my virtues."
"I think we can dispense with the idea of you having virture, Mr. Rixx," Tee added dryly. "And I'm not depending on your ability to win an honest election against such as Xana Bonviva. But then again, whoever said this would be an honest election?"
Rixx sat back in his chair. Carefully, he folded his arms and crossed his right leg over his left leg.
"What's in it for you?" he asked after some thought.
Tee's eyes actually lit up, an appraising sort of look. He seemed pleased that Rixx had asked.
"I have a certain investment in keeping the status quo somewhat muddled. It's good for business of a sort," Tee answered.
It had the ring of truth to it. But Rixx knew from experience that it was dangerous to trust a liar to tell the entire truth. And Tee was a liar born and bred. Of that he was sure. He'd said that his security droid was back in the shop, but Zane Rixx was certain that it was close by ... just in case. Well, he had some backup, too, if it should come to that.
"I want it back," Rixx told the elderly man.
"You want what back," Tee smiled at him.
"You know."
Tee set a box on the table, a container decorated with bloodgold filagree. Rixx had to sit very still to prevent himself from snatching the box and running.
"This is what you want?" Tee asked, a feral gleam in his eye. "Then you shall have it ... after the elections. This will be my payment for that 'Get Out of Jail Free Card' you still haven't paid me for."
"I can pay you for the card right now," Rixx said, betraying his anxiety. "Let me have the box."
"I think not," Tee replied, his hand resting on the lid of the box. "This Dead Man's Chest will remain in my custody to encourage your continued valiant effort in our cause. We must challenge Bonviva for the leadership of this station. And in the event we win, just think of all that can occur," Tee pointed out.
"You're forgetting I'm a marked man with Starfleet. I was in the Brig, remember?"
"I think that the former members of Starfleet have bigger fish to fry," Tee smiled happily. "Proper, judicious encouragement may help them see the bigger picture here."
Zane Rixx wondered what that meant exactly. Was the old man that powerful? Could he "encourage" the current Station Administrators to ignore the obvious criminal background of one Bolian running for office? Just exactly what was this man? He determined then and there to pursue the answer to that question.
"In that case, I accept your terms," Rixx answered.
"I'll be in touch," Tee promised.
The Bolian stood and left. HW drifted over from his hiding place behind a structural support beam.
"He had men stationed at three different positions. One armed with a long range weapon," the security droid reported.
"I was in no real danger," Tee assured the mechanism as it ticked away menacingly to itself. "So long as I have the box, it will stay that way."
"How long before he realizes exactly what happened?" HW pointed out rhetorically.
"You mean that I don't actually have his heart?" Tee asked. "That I used ancient Terran mysticism and hypnosis to convince him otherwise? He may never figure it out."
"And if he does ...," HW persisted.
"Then you shall deal with him as you dealt with his minions earlier."
"Considering our newest foray into politics, I have been scanning the database for information. I have discovered a vast store of which you may be unaware."
"Oh, really?" the elderly man sounded intrigued.
"Yes. Jokes. Humor. About politics and politicians."
"You have an example?"
"Of course. What is 3000 politicians under the sea?" the droid asked.
"I don't know," Tee replied.
"A good start," HW answered.
Tee smiled. "Shameless," he said.
-------------------- =/\=
NRPG: The Cafe' Nervosa is a fictitious coffeehouse made famous on the sitcom "Frazier." Tomas' often visited it in an earlier time. Zane Rixx will announce his candidacy. But we still don't know what that position will be called. Does anyone have a good idea?
-------------------- =/\=
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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