Lt Commander Samantha Palmer Mission Specialist USS Chimera NCC 96899 = Samantha’s Quarters The temporal scientist sat behind her desk, staring at the screen in front of her which displayed the image of Amanda Peckinpaugh on the other side of the subspace link. “I don’t understand,” Samantha replied when the Captain answered her previous question. “What do you mean the project is closed on your side?” “As soon as the Chimera left Bragg, the next phase of the project came into play. The first phase involved us here at Bragg setting up the new technology and making sure the Chimera has the resources it needs to complete this mission. The next phase is completely in the hands of you and the shadow agent,” Amanda explained. “I’ve already been given a new assignment, and Bragg’s involvement has been suspended until the Chimera successfully completes the mission and returns.” “What am I supposed to tell the General?” Samantha asked incredulously. She couldn’t believe the SSF’s attitude concerning this situation. “Ask Agent Harker. He was assigned for good reason. Now, Samantha, I can’t help you any further. I am sorry. Good luck with your mission... you’ll need it. Peckinpaugh out.” Samantha was about to protest when the communiqué ended, closed by the Captain from her side. Samantha slammed both of her fists down on the table in frustration. The old, decorative El Aurian clock that stood on her desk rattled in protest, and she absently glanced at it. A gift from her brother after she received her doctorate degree, the clock had never moved; its intricate mechanisms and five different hands stood perfectly still. Pushing her chair away, she stood up and moved over to the replicator. “Coffee, hot, no milk,” she ordered, and a silver cup filled with black liquid appeared inside it. Carefully she picked and sniffed it (just to make sure the replicators hadn’t malfunctioned again) before carrying it over the small square table that stood in the centre of the living space. Just as she sat down, the door chime announced a visitor. “Enter,” she said, not bothering to stand up. Her hair was still hanging around her shoulders, and her quarters weren’t any tidier at all after the General had left. Samantha looked up as the doors slid open, and Nicolas stepped inside. “You wanted to see me?” he asked, putting his hands in his pant pockets. “Can we talk here?” Samantha asked as the door closed behind him. Nicolas nodded his reply. “The subroutines I installed have adjusted the audio sensors in our quarters; the logs won’t record any audio.” “And they won’t notice this?” “It could be considered as a malfunction from the modifications. I’ve adjust a few other random locations around the ship to exhibit the same problems, so it won’t look as suspicious.” Nicolas sat down in a soft chair opposite Samantha and looked at her. Her face looked tired and she gave off a nervous energy that roused concern in him. “What’s the matter?” Samantha ran a hand through her hair before and then told him about her encounter with the General earlier. Nicolas listened intently while she explained. “Do you think it’s the algorithm?” he asked when she was finished. “Did you enter the key code after you installed it?” “No, I didn’t...” she replied, the blood slowly running from her face as she realised that was what she had forgotten. “Shit.” “That’s probably why the diagnostics are reading at 100%,” Nicolas explained calmly. “It can be fixed. You spoke to Peckinpaugh?” “Yes I did.” Samantha replayed the conversation in her head and realised how strange it had been, that Bragg was leaving everything over to them. Something wasn’t what it seemed. Then again, where Intelligence was concerned, it never was. “Nicolas, what’s going here? Peckinpaugh said Bragg’s involvement with the ‘project’ was done. What project is she talking about? Why are you really here? That bio you gave me to read may have fooled the crew of the Chimera, but it doesn’t fool me. Are you even a marine?” “Yes, I’m a marine,” Nicolas assured her. “I went to Quantico after a year of service in the Fleet. I enjoyed being a navigator and helmsman, but I discovered that I wanted to be a fighter pilot. So, I joined the Marine Core. The rest I can’t tell you much about because it’s classified. Marine Captain isn’t my real rank, but that’s not important. I have actual field experience in the Marsh, so I am not putting this ship or this mission in danger by pretending to be something I’m not. What I can tell you is that this mission is very, very important. It goes much higher that merely Peckinpaugh and the Generals at Bragg.” “That’s not enough, Nicolas!” Samantha said when he was done, exasperated. She slammed her coffee cup on the table and some of it spilled over the sides. “You have to tell me more than that. Why is the Gott so important to the SSF, or whoever is-“ She stopped in mid sentence when a thought occurred to her. “You’re Black Ops, aren’t you?” Nicolas leaned back in the chair and rubbed his chin with his hand. “You know I can’t answer that question.” Black Ops’ existence was neither confirmed nor denied by the SSF, but his denial was as good as an affirmation at that point. “All right,” Samantha replied, taking a deep breath and standing up. Two things bothered her at that moment: the fact that Black Ops was involved in this mission, which meant that it was very serious; and the fact that Nicolas, the same eager Cadet she had known at the Academy, was now a Black Ops Agent. There was no use to pry any further; she knew she wouldn’t get anything further from him. If Black Ops was involved, then she would just have to bite her lip and play along. There was no other choice. “What are we going to do about the General’s request?” “I’ll send you some information that you can pass along to him. Tell him that it comes from Peckinpaugh. Tell him that they had done some more research at Bragg and discovered a way to alter some of the modifications to improve the compatibility with the Chimera.” Samantha nodded. Inside her, she could feel frustration building up and wanted to be alone. The knowledge that Nicolas was Black Ops felt like a bitter betrayal to her. The eager young Cadet she had known and had loved at the Academy now seemed as distant and mysterious as the Spinward Marsh... and potentially just as dangerous. What made her feel even worse was that he had been out of her life for ten years and that she had, not expected, but at least hoped him to be the same person. After all that time, who would still be the same? Certainly she had changed. Or had she not? Samantha suddenly felt angry over her thoughts and her lower lip trembled slightly as she tried to control her emotions. Nicolas, who noticed this, stood up from his chair and extended a hand to her, but she brushed it away and quickly turned her back to him. “Please, just go,” she pleaded. “I need to be alone now.” Despite being a hardened Intelligence agent, Nicolas had not been as prepared as he had though for seeing Samantha again. Seeing her upset was even worse, bringing with it long forgotten memories of juvenile lovers’ quarrels and bruised hearts. Dropping the hand she brushed away from her to his side, he left without saying a word. Samantha wiped the single tear that had strayed to her cheek and took another deep breath. She knew she was being emotional, but couldn’t ignore the silent alarms at the back of her mind any longer. The scenario was all too familiar, and it left her envisioning a very dark future. The problematic modifications, the distrust, the Intelligence involvement... It all reminded her too much of what happened to the USS Hyperion. In the end, 300 people had lost their lives in the name of experimental research. Samantha had lost close friends and her fiancé, nearly her own life and many times she believed a part of herself as well. She couldn’t help but fear the possibility that the same might happen to the Chimera. = -- No virus found in this outgoing message. Checked by AVG Anti-Virus. Version: 7.0.323 / Virus Database: 267.8.11/45 - Release Date: 2005/07/09