Stricken Conscience and Departures

Posted on Mon May 25th, 2009 @ 7:10am by Captain Elsie Halliwell

1,275 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Behind the Mask of Familiarity
Location: Unknown
Timeline: Current

ON:

Elijah Wendess sat in the lonely guardroom, thumbing through a padd of 22nd Century fiction, biding his time. The chronometer signalled 02:41hrs and it was here, as he read, that time seemed to last forever. The slow "ticking" of the seconds only seemed to compound his boredom… and his conscience.

He activated the viewscreen on the console before him, slightly askew and to the left of his crossed feet that rested on the desk, the black laces of his boots untied and limply hanging off over the edge. He leaned back further in his chair to arch his back. If VISTA Corps were to proudly display logos on their technologies, then the black, empty screen that blanketing the glass here would be adorned with it. However, a cold and underground organisation would never be so careless. The communication had been sent and now he waited for its reply: A single flash of red light at the bottom of the screen, and a persistent and infuriating beep. There it was. Informing him that he, now, was alone in the correctional facility. All inmates were locked down for the night, and the staff vacated.

Maybe he should go and see Prisoner 342 to postulate an idea or two to wile away the remaining hours. Or maybe he should begin to set in motion what he ought to have months before.

Unable to sleep, 342 sat in his cell and stared at the position of chess pieces, which he had arranged in front of him; there wasn't much else to do in his little world. He had tracked his most recent loss to Elijah back to his move from this position. "I should have attacked with my queen, not my bishop." It was strange; risking a bishop was usually a safer bet, but it seems that this particular game hadn't been playing by normal rules.

A hard knock was heard at the door, and the familiar sound of Elijah Wendess' voice announcing his presence made its way from the other side. 342 cocked his head in surprise; it had been a very long time since anyone had come to see him at this time of night. In fact, Elijah was the only person he had seen in months, and his friend had never come to see him at any time other than shortly after lunch. "We must still be playing the game," he muttered dryly under his breath.

"Kevin," he muttered, barely a whisper through the door. "Are you awake?"

It took the prisoner several seconds to realize that the voice was speaking to him. It had been so long since someone had called him by name that he no longer had as strong of a connection between the name and himself as he once had. For a moment he considered not answering; he wasn't even sure what the proper answer was. Finally he squeaked out, "Yes."

Pushing the key through the rusted lock, the metal flakes floated to the ground by his feet. He twisted it hard and the door heaved open. Standing before him was the thin, tired and weak human. "Come on," he said. "We're leaving."

The prisoner could do nothing but stare back with a dumbfounded expression on his face. He hadn't left his cell in...he no longer knew how long it had been since he'd last left. Once the device was operational, his captors hadn't seen fit to call on him often. "Leaving?"

"Earlier today," he replied, "I received a communication about the progress of Agent 0614 aboard that Federation ship in the Citadel Sectors." He sighed, and fixed his worried gaze upon the man in front of him. "His assignment has been extended on a permanent basis."

"That's bad...isn't it?"

"Yes," Wendess replied solemnly. "VISTA has no more further use for you. I need to get you out of here otherwise… they'll dispose of you. It looks as though the Agent has successfully integrated into the crew, and the heads of the organisation are happy for him to stay onboard… indefinitely. "

342 was still too far gone to fully comprehend the situation, but he understood what this meant. "I have to get there." He paused for a moment. "I have to warn them."

"Here, take this," Elijah said as he handed the Prisoner a parcel of civilian clothes and a small rounded device that was cool to the touch.

Wendess took the trembling hand of Prisoner 342 to steady him. "We must go. Once we leave, we both cannot turn back. Never. It's been with a heavy heart and a weighted mind that I have fulfilled my duties here, in this… facility. But I cannot -- I will not -- continue with this. Their goals have become clouded and misaligned with my own and I will not have the blood of a… friend on my hands."

Suddenly, a shuffled sound startled him over his shoulder. Spinning around, Wendess' heart sank to his stomach as the glint of an unholstered phaser was pointed at his chest. Looking from the phaser to the face of the man holding it, Wendess jolted with the shame of being caught red-handed.

"Wendess…" the man said, disjointedly and almost disappointedly. "We knew we had a traitor. But, you?"

Wendess started, "Colonel Farrar…" before he was abruptly cut short.

"ENOUGH!" the Colonel screeched. "I offered you everything here. Pushed you up through the organisation, and you repay me by liberating the key to our efforts against the Citadel-Federation alliance?"

Wendess started again before the man gestured with the phaser to shut him off a further time.

"You know that I can't let either of you leave," he said, his voice commanded and cold. "The prisoner's execution was scheduled for tomorrow. But there's not reason to keep that appointment. And, I'm afraid, Elijah, you've just rescheduled your own.

The Colonel pointed the phaser closer to Wendess' chest and his hand squeezed to press on the trigger. As the beam flashed from the end of it, it shot out three short pulse bursts that pounded and burned into Elijah's chest. As he fell backwards, against the open door, he reached into his left hand and activated a second, small rounded device. A slight beep could be heard as the Prisoner quickly looked at his own hand as a yellow light surrounded him.

"NO!!" Colonel Farrar screamed as he redirected the phaser to the disappearing Prisoner and fired. The pulses past through the phased image of the man as he vanished from the cell.

"Where did you send him?" Farrar poisoned through gritted teeth. "WHERE IS HE?!"

Wendess chuckled gruffly as his heart slowed to accept the death that was floating over him like a blacked warm veil. "Free," he managed before the Colonel shot him again.

Hidden in the magnetic field of a nearby moon was a small shuttle craft, stolen by VISTA from the Federation. It was here that the shocked prisoner rematerialized from the beam of the emergency long range transporter. He gripped the back of the pilot's seat to steady himself; the only friend he had known for what seemed like ages was gone, and he still didn't fully comprehend what was happening.

"Com...Computer. Time to nearest federation outpost at fastest, maintainable speed."

"Time to Federation Outpost 482: 2.3 weeks."

The prisoner sighed, and hung his head. "Take me there." He felt the ship speed in to warp, and could only hope that none of the VISTA satellite grids had detected his escape. "I've been locked in a room for who knows how long...what's another two weeks?"


Prisoner 342
VISTA Detention Prisoner
Location: Unknown

AND

Elijah Wendess
VISTA Detention Warden
Location: Unknown

 

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