Passing Notes

Posted on Mon Dec 10th, 2012 @ 10:01pm by Lieutenant Eric Edwards & Jackson Banning V

Mission: The Struggle Within
Location: The Nexus Club

By the time Jackson had tracked Eli down, and sat in the corner of Saturnalia to keep an eye on things, it was getting very late. He’d watched as Tate carried out the unaware young man who’d become, for all intents and purposes, his son on this station, then moved over to have a short conversation with Seyla. He knew Eli would be safe at her place, given there was someone around at all times. He also knew that Eli needed at least this night to blow up before he began the long and arduous journey of dealing with the loss of Chance and putting his life back together.

So it was that he departed the Cherry Pit and after a question to the computer to locate Lt. Edwards, he made his way back to the one place he didn’t really want to go: his office. He passed into the Nexus with a nod from Security. Apparently his new status had already been passed to the ranks. He stopped at the main bar to get some coffee and asked one of the officers on duty to request Eric’s presence.

“I’m in his office,” Eric had replied to no one in particular, speaking over the comm when they had asked for him to meet Jackson. “I’m sure he knows the way.” Tapping his right hand to his chest, he closed the channel, still kneeling on the floor and going over every square centimeter of the crime scene with his tricorder. There hadn’t been much of interest, save the one object he was still having analyzed. If he was right in his supposition, this was never supposed to have been a crime scene.

Jackson arrived at his office, coffee cup in hand, but stopped at the door. He wondered now just how long it would be before he felt comfortable using this room again. He watched Eric as he crawled across the floor, then finally spoke. “Good mornin’, Eric. Sorry to interrupt ya, but I”ve got another piece to this puzzle ya might wanna know about.”

Eric turned at Jackson's voice, and actually managed a tired smile. "Mister Banning," he said, but then became reticent. "They, err, haven't told me what rank to address you with. Just that you're officially Intel." As he stood, his voice trailed off, inhaling deeply through his nose and eying the cup in Jackson's hand. "God, that smells good." The words escaped his mouth before he even realized.

“Jackson will do just fine. Why don’t you come on out, take a break and I’ll fix you up one? It’s my own recipe, though if yer on duty you’ll get the tame version. Otherwise, if yer knockin’ off fer the day, and I suggest it since I don’t think you’ve slept in ages, I’ll make you the real thing. Then we can talk about what I’ve got for ya.”

Eric's facial expressions were fluctuating from 'yes, please!' to 'I shouldn't...' and everywhere in between before he finally sighed and nodded. "I can't do much more until medical gets back to me... I haven't even seen Norval in two days despite living with 'im. Yeah, I'll take a coffee. Jackson," he added in at the end with a grin.

Jackson turned and moved back out to the bar and as Eric sat, he moved behind it. He chose a large mug, added a generous dollop of Irish whiskey, then another splash from two unlabeled bottles, one holding a deep brown liquid, the other a vivid green that seemed to glow. He stirred it, then sprinkled a bit of brown powder over the top. “The spice comes from Bajor, by the way. Try that. It should go down as easy as mother’s milk and will kick your ass as hard as your mother would if ya screwed up.”

Tentatively, Eric raised the mug to his lips, but after swallowing (and nearly coughing) he had to smirk at Jackson.

"You weren't kidding," he admitted, almost hoarse. "But that's exactly what I needed."

Setting the mug down, he stared across the bar at the Southerner. Eric had been raised in the US as well, but on the west coast, never having to travel far for Starfleet Academy. "You said you... had something for me," he wondered.

“Yeah, I did. While we were up in Sickbay, not long after actually and before Harding came to tell us the news, someone had flowers delivered to Oz. Black vase, the flowers were some strange dark ones. And a note.” He pulled it from his pocket and passed it to Eric. “Oz hasn’t seen this yet and you’ll see why.”

Eric accepted the neatly folded note, scowling even as he did. He didn't particularly like the idea of keeping things from Oz...

Little brothers are dear; lovers are dearer. Back off. We do not miss our targets.

As he read the message, though, he completely understood why Jackson had kept this to himself. His mouth was agape as he looked back at his boss's fiancé.

“Yeah. She was under enough stress in Sickbay while we were waitin’ to hear about Chance. This woulda put her over the edge. Mind you, I’ll tell ‘er but then wasn’t the time.” Jackson sipped his drink and settled on the stool beside Eric.

"You realize what this means?" Eric asked, not really wanting to believe it himself. "Chance was the target. Despite this happening in your office, they wanted him..." He paused to think about that, frowning as he did. "Unless they're just trying to make the most of a mistake. But if they meant to kill you, Jackson, warning you seems like a stupid move."

“I agree. And everyone jumped to the conclusion that it was meant for me, which is an effective distraction. You find anything in there that would help explain why it happened in my office? It’s not exactly a sure bet to find Chance in there,” Jackson commented.

“A hypospray,” Eric admitted, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “It was lying under your desk. I’m having it analyzed, but if my gut instinct is right, it’s going to have a noticeably different effect on Chance than it would have had on you.” The unusual detail of Chance’s physiology had put a whole ‘nother spin on this case.

“Ah, yeah. Since he’s not all human? But then, if that’s what you find, how would they have known?” Jackson frowned and reached for his coffee. “His own sister didn’t know. Unless whoever it is has someone with access to medical.....” He didn’t like where that train of thought was going.

“I certainly haven’t ruled that out,” Eric had to admit. “Technically, medical files are secure, but they’re hardly classified, and Chance’s would have been available to medical staff and select Academy staff, to say nothing of any Earth-based records that might exist or someone taking their own discrete scans.” The Lieutenant sighed and drained a good half of his coffee. “Too many variables. And this,” he said, meaning the note, “just raises more questions after answering one.”

“Yeah, an’ now I have to tell Oz. It does, however, give us a direction.” Jackson eyed Eric’s mug, then looked at the man himself. He wasn’t weaving yet, which was a good sign.

"A direction, yeah, but I'd rather have someone in the brig, y'kn--*hic*"

Eric blushed suddenly. After a long pause and a deep breath, "Well, that was embarass--*hic*--...ing..." he finished, scowling.

Jackson could held the snicker that escaped him. “How long you been on duty Eric?”

The truth of the matter was: not long. He had been recalled to active duty when it became clear Oz, Aliso, Gilroy and Darwin were all unavailable, or too close to the case, shortening his medical leave. But Norval had been needed to take command of Ops while Sakkath had run of the station, and that had made their little vacation all too short. He was almost glad to have something to do now... but not this.

"How many hours has it been since the attack?" he wondered. It served as both answer and the fact that he hadn't actually been keeping track, so consumed with the investigation.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe a little sleep might be a good thing?” Jackson cast a glance at the small army of security personnel that moved around in the club. “There’s enough here to fight off a small invasion and I'm keepin’ this place closed another night till y’all are done with it. Besides, another coupla sips of that, you’ll be snorin’ on the bar anyhow.”

"Bartenders really do make the best counselors," Eric managed with a tired smile, impressively (at the moment, at least) without hiccuping. The truth was he could think of things he needed, or perhaps wanted, more than sleep... the odds were good he'd be dozing immediately upon getting into bed even if Norval were at home. Setting down his unfinished drink, he stood, albeit slowly.

"I'll get this place back to you as fast as I can, Eric promised. "Thanks, Jackson," he extended his hand.

Jackson shook it, then nodded to Eric. “You okay to get yourself home?”

“Even if I’m not,” Eric said, perhaps sagely, “I’m not about to let my men see me walking out of here with help. So I’ll say thank you, again, and good night. Or morning. Or whatever the hell it is,” he rambled, even as he took the first stumbling step towards the door before righting himself and making it out with... some semblance of dignity.

_________________________


Jackson Banning V
Owner & On Duty
The Nexus Club

Lieutenant Eric Edwards
Calling It A Night