You're Not Dead Yet

Posted on Mon Aug 22nd, 2011 @ 6:47am by Jackson Banning V & Major Maxim Kamarov & Lieutenant Commander Leto

Mission: In Our Time of Need
Location: The Nexus Club

PART TWO:
THE NEXUS CLUB

Quentin strode into the Nexus club, looking for Jack. He knew the old pirate had taken up residence on the base and was doing well as the Nexus manager. Jackson and Quentin had served together in a clandestine unit known only as SIGMA, one of the many shadow organizations in the Federation that dealt with threats to UFP security in a very direct fashion. SIGMA was the Federation equivalent of the USA's OSS, Britain's ODG, and France's DGSE. They were a group of operators who could, and often did, make the enemy's life a living hell.

Quentin spotted Nita Quidley near one of the bars and sidled over to her, covering her eyes with his hands. "Guess who, lass!"

"I'd know those big Scottish paws anywhere." Nenita smiled and turned to look up at Harrison, then the smile faded. He looked awful, and she said as much. "What the hell's going on with you?"

"I have a rare disease, darlin'. It's debilitating and it will eventually kill me. But enough o' that, where is the nitwit I came to see?" Quentin smiled, gritting his teeth against the nausea.

"Jackson? Here somewhere, likely checking the thighs...I mean supplies." She grinned at Harrison. "I heard you are a man of leisure now, so don't be a stranger." Hopping off her stool, she patted his arm, then scooted on out the door.

Quentin watched her go, smiling as he thought of how lucky Nick was.

"I thought I heard a bear out here." Jackson stepped from the back room and around the bar. He shook Harrison's hand, giving him a one-armed man hug, then stepped back behind the bar. "I also heard some news I didn't like about this disease of yours being incurable. I don't believe it in this day and age."

Quentin took the offered glass of ale. "Bullshit, Jack! There isnae cure for this bug. The LMH said so."

"You gonna let some hologram scare you into puttin' your affairs in order? You need to see someone out here, a real doc who might know somehting about this. And start with sickbay here, and Connor."

Quentin looked thoughtful. "Twould be a change of pace to get the death knell from a lad I know and that gave me new legs.....hey! I wonder if it isn't somesort of toxic shock from the legs themselves? The LMH on the Berkeley told me that the mediscans showed traces of polycarbon fibersteel that my legs are made of. I ne'er thought o' that and neither did that short circuit holo-quack!"

"Well, then there ya go. You call him or I will, got me?" Jackson poured out two glasses of scotch and passed one to Harrison. "So now that you're here, what do ya have planned? And it better not be crochetin' or watchin' the Galactic Shopping Channel."

Quentin sighed heavily. "Well, I did come here to spend me last days in peace. But I wouldn't mind getting my hands dirty now and again. You hear anything from the crowd from the old days?"

"A few things out of the Jenaran Sector. They're playin' hell with their Federation application, over a supposedly new thermolytic radiation source. No idea if the rumours are true. I think they're runnin' in circles but we'll see."

"Who's running the show?" Quentin asked seriously, sipping his ale.

"Ben Madison. He beat the charges of violating Prime Directive on Altairia IX, cost several dozen Marines their lives. Pity you're not around still to keep an eye on him."

Quentin smiled darkly, remembering the beating he had given Madison after a failed protection detail to a defecting Romulan Senator. Not long after, the man had vanished. "First thing is first, I'll see the doc today! Then I'll let Kh'ali know where I am." Harrison held up a big hand. "Nae to worry, Jack; I know she is sweet on the good doctor and hae no plans to poach!"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "The doctor? You got yer wires crossed my friend. It's Patrick."

Quentin's voice was quiet. "I made the decision to stay on the Berkeley and she moved on. Life goes on!"
He took a large gulp of his drink.

"Story of my life, Q. Seems like I'm always movin' on too," Jackson commented. "An' leavin' 'em behind or steppin' aside for their own good. Well, here's to us." He raised his glass and clinked it against Harrison's. "Call Connor when you leave here."

Quentin gave a mock salutte, then slammed the rest of his drink. He quickly exited the bar, making a beeline for the base's Sickbay.

a JP by:

Quentin Harrison
Civilian Not Dead Yet

Jackson Banning V
Bossy Ol' Cuss
&
Lt Nenita Quidley
All-around yenta.