Things Not As They Should Be

Posted on Sun Aug 7th, 2011 @ 10:06pm by Lieutenant Norval Tigan

=^= Tigan Quarters =^=

Norval had just gotten off duty, still wondering how in the seven hells Sakkath did it. He would sit there in Ops, looking as calm as could be, dealing with each issue as it arose without complaint... without stress... without even so much as a moment of indecision. Everything was just based on logic. A computer could likely do almost as good a job as the Vulcan.

"Well la-de-da," he said aloud, as he pulled off his duty tunic and tossed it towards the armchair in his quarters, just as he did every night.

Only this time, he missed.

Norval had already taken two steps towards the kitchen when he heard the fabric impact the floor. He turned over his shoulder, his expression confused. He never missed that throw.

Moving back, he picked up the uniform and placed it carefully over the arm of his favorite chair. As he settled the tunic, he ran his hand over the embroidered fabric, straight off of Trill. He remembered so many things about that chair. Sitting in his father's lap whenever he was home on shore leave, reading books - literature, science, technical manuals - throughout his education, giving himself to... well, a great many people, truth be told. The Trill grinned wickedly at that prospect, but the ones after he was joined were infinitely better... Edwards most recently, despite an intermediary interruption on the part of one Professor Drake.

And thinking of Professor Drake, he found himself thinking of the newest recruits. He had never been with a Delta Quadrant native, he realized. The Talaxian. The Enaran, who he had seen so many times in the Nexus Club. The long hair suited him. Norval had never been with a Ktarian either, though there had been opportunities back in the Federation proper... Alpha and Beta Quadrants. And then there was Chance.

Human, sure. Norval had been there, done that. But why this particular human chose to conceal his relation to Oz, Norval didn't know. He also wasn't likely to break that... confidence, was it? The Trill only knew because he saw all of the official paperwork. He could tell everyone his last name was Conradi, but Norval knew better. Still, he was certainly attractive in that same way Oz was. Dark hair. Endless blue eyes. They were both gorgeous, but Oralia, well... she was taken. And Norval didn't want to be on the bad side of the man who might one day have to save his symbiote.

Shaking off that line of thought, Norval headed for the replicator. He paused a moment, leaning against the wall even as he considered his order. "Operational Override Tigan-Zero-Seven-Alpha-Juliet. Pomegranate Martini. Twist of Lime. Chilled."

The cocktail glass materialized, the liquid inside vermilion, the stem frosted and curved at an almost impossible angle. Alcoholic, thanks to the codes. Norval took it and drained half of it almost immediately. He sighed as he set it down on the table, and turned to look at the lilies that festooned the vase at the center of his dining space. Seven, always... six?

Norval's brow furrowed. He always kept seven lilies, and now there was one fewer. That wasn't right, he knew. Wasn't how it should be.

He lifted his glass again, taking another sip before he headed off towards the bedroom. Something wasn't right, and it gnawed at him.

He made his way to his personal space and removed his Ops gold, the spots running from his temple, down the front of his chest and then along his side. He tossed the shirt onto the bed. His right hand held onto the cocktail, his left settled over his stomach. The x-shaped scar was there, and inside... inside the Tigan symbiont. The source of seven prior Tigans. The source of so many memories. So many experiences.

He smiled at that, even as he removed his duty slacks. The spots continued down his side, along his legs, over the top of his feet until they stopped at his toes. He quite liked those spots, Norval realized as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered if Edwards, or if any of the others, felt the same way.

He slid into the shower, sonic though it was he found it cleansing. But even as he stood there, he wondered why his chair was out of place. Why one of his lilies was missing. Why... why his fragrances were not arranged in their usual order.

In a bout of rage, he deactivated the sonic shower, not even bothering to dress as he stormed from the bathroom into his living quarters. His body wash, cologne, aftershave, all were arranged in order of use, and now they were haphazardly composed. Someone had been here. Someone Norval had not let in.

"Computer, excluding myself, who has had access to these quarters?" he asked. Nay, demanded.

=^= "No authorized entries have been recorded." =^= the automated voice replied.

"Recorded," Norval scoffed. That meant nothing, not to someone as skilled with computers as he was. Or Sakkath was. Or as any number of other people in this universe were.

He ripped up his glass and drained it, dropping into his couch. "Computer, notify Commanders Hawke and Zeferino that I'd like to see them at their earliest convenience," he said, forcing civility back into his voice.

He paused a moment, the glass empty, his quarters not as they should be... the idea to alter their composition before putting them back together suddenly occurred to him.

"Belay that, computer. Send in... 3 hours time. First, let Lieutenant Edwards know that I'd like to see him..."

_________________________
Lieutenant (j.g.) Norval Tigan
Asst. Chief of Operations
Starbase 900