by Ensign Cristiane and Commander Adams
90104.17
Following Une chaîne d'amour
-=The Orphanage at Altaan Province, Bajor=-
90104.17
Following Une chaîne d'amour
-=The Orphanage at Altaan Province, Bajor=-
After having sent twenty-three letters to one Miss Gira Lassiter, in care of the University of Betazed, Dane Cristiane had gotten no response. Not, at least, until last night.
He came to the conclusion upon seeing the message waiting that while they may have missed Christmas on Earth this year due to their assignment here on Bajor, that he must've been moved at last from the Naughty list to the Nice list.
Because last night he got a one line reply that told him that even if she wasn't talking, she was listening.
That one line was, You are so not at an orphanage on Bajor.
Instead of trying to send another simple letter in an attempt to disprove her theory that he was making up a sympathetic (and at times, plain pathetic) sounding story to try to make her feel sorry for him, he wandered around the dining room with a small recording device in his hand, taking video footage to attach to his next letter as proof of his current location.
He scanned the room and all of the young faces that populated it. They were happy, because those who had been sick were now well enough to mingle amongst those who had not been, thanks to the cure developed by Doctor Lance Hartcort for the illness that had stricken them.
They were also happy because they had eaten more tonight than they had before in a good, long while.
"Everyone, wish Miss Lassiter a Happy New Year," Dane asked, laughing and pacing back a step as some of the younger children began to jump up and down in front of his lens, trying to be sure that they made it into his 'moving pictures'.
As much catching up as Bajor had done technology wise since the end of the Occupation and the beginning of their membership in the Federation, they were still, literally, hundreds of years behind at Altaan. It wasn't just the place Time forgot, Dane thought. It was the place that Time hadn't even been introduced to yet.
"Show me again how it works?" Milea asked, standing just over Dane's shoulder and trying to see into the view finder.
"It's simple. It makes a recording of anything that you point it at. Then you can transfer the file to the computer and send it to anyone."
"And you're sending it to this Lassiter lady." Milea held out hope that she wasn't Dane's girlfriend. "Is she an old lady?"
Dane's cheeks took on the color of a fading sunset- a wash of reds and pinks. "No."
"Oh." Milea had looked back at the sight of Fleur and the Vedek dancing in the snow earlier after she'd helped Jariel set up his surprise, and now she looked up at Dane. She wondered if Dane realized just how grown up she really was, for her age. She wondered how old this Miss Lassiter was, and what she looked like...
"Dane," Another voice addressed him from behind. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" Azalea Adams had a tired and cranky Gillan Tress on her hip, and she shifted the toddler's weight from side to side. Tress kept asking for Fleur and Jariel, and Azalea had been able to do little to distract her from the idea that the couple was what she really wanted.
"Of course, Doctor." Dane replied. He had gained a great deal of respect for Adams, even before they had come on this mission. Anyone who was considered such a good and worthy friend by a man like Keiran O'Sullivan, had to be a person of great value.
"Milea, would you please take Tress for a few minutes? See if you can distract her?"
"Ooof." Milea grunted as Tress' pudgy body nearly overwhelmed her thin, wiry frame as Adams handed her over. "C'mon baby. Let's play a game."
"What can I do for you?" Dane asked, switching off his camera and turning his attention to her fully.
"Let's talk somewhere quiet." Adams beckoned Dane out of the dining hall, and they found Vedek Timal's office not very far away. "This will work."
They closed the door only partially, allowing the light from the empty corridor to illuminate the room, just enough.
"I...didn't want to say anything. In front of the others." Adams confessed, sighing deeply. "Especially not until the celebration was over. These people have suffered so much, they deserved one evening of nothing but happiness."
"What's wrong?"
"I finished my analysis of the vaccine samples that the Vedek was able to procure for us."
"And?"
"And..." Adams folded her arms, fighting the urge to shiver. "The batch that went to the Plains was definitely compromised."
"Compromised how?"
"This particular vaccine, it is supposed to contained only the of the killed version of the virus. The batch that went to the Plains contained live virus."
Dane scowled. "So the vaccine directly infected people with disease instead of preventing it?"
"Anyone who didn't have a previous, existing immunity. Yes." She lowered her voice. "And this virus...as Doctor Hartcort already discovered...mutates based on the immune system of the person it infects. It seems to seek out their individual weaknesses, and then it exploits them."
"Well now that there's a cure..." Dane was puzzled as to where she was going with this.
"Yes, we are fortunate that Dr. Hartcort was brilliant enough to figure out how to stop this from turning into a total catastrophe. But that doesn't change the fact, that someone is responsible for the disaster in the first place."
"Maybe it was just an accident," Dane offered. "A mistake in the lab?"
"Criminal negligence would have to be involved for someone not to know the difference between live and killed vaccine, Dane," Adams insisted. "Something is wrong here. The fact that we had to have Jariel obtain the vaccine samples, the fact that the Bajoran Health Ministry has been far from forthcoming with answers to any of my inquiries..."
"How can I help?" Dane shrugged, puzzled. "I'm not a doctor, or a politician."
"No, you're not. But if there's one thing that I have heard about you from Captain O'Sullivan," a smirk pursed Azalea's lips. "It's that you have a great propensity for sneakiness."
Dane frowned. "I've been told that was one of my least charming qualities."
"It can be." She agreed. "But when combined with the training that I know O'Sullivan was giving you in detective work, and the program that you were in with TI that taught you how to find your way around a database in no time flat..." she put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "This is what I want you to do."
-=Hours later=-
Dane was nervous about going aboard the Alchemy.
Not only because being aboard the ship when it was so empty was creepy- which it was.
Mostly because he was afraid of...interrupting...something.
The Vedek and the French chick thought they had the ship to themselves, and far be it from Dane to rain on anybody's romantic parade, especially once the floats were already headed down Main Street USA.
Still, orders were orders and he needed the computers on the bridge to do what Adams was asking- and he figured that the last place that Jariel would bring his new girlfriend would be to the bridge, anyway.
He anxiously drummed a rapid rhythm with his fingers against the panel as he waited for the computer to produce the results he'd asked for.
Picking up the trail that Adams had put him on with the name of the company responsible for manufacturing the vaccine in question, Dane had used every trick that O'Sullivan had taught him, and a few he'd learned on his own during his little covert op from Hell for Jonas Vox, and had hacked his way into the shipping and production records of the facility where the batches of vaccine had been made and sent out from.
He was in a hurry to get those results, because the longer he kept the link from the Alchemy's computers to the database open, the more likely it was that someone was going to get wise.
"Son of a bitch," Dane whispered softly, stroking his newly-grown goatee. "There it is." He closed the link, erased his tracks, and transferred the data to a back up isolinear rod, so that it would be safely recorded in more than one location. He then uploaded it onto a PADD for Adams, removed the data rod, and headed back to the sanctuary.
Adams was sitting in a chair in the corner of the small room where Tress slept. Her eyes were red, and had a far-away look that haunted Dane as he softly spoke her name from the doorway.
Knowing there was no risk in waking the baby by speaking here since Tress had lost her hearing due to the damned disease, Azalea allowed her weary bones to stay where they were, in the chair as she nodded for Dane to come in.
"I found it." He announced sadly.
"You have proof? Someone knew that the vaccine was compromised?"
"Not only that," Dane replied, "But there were several warning letters sent to the Health Ministry about the situation. There were those who said that the entire lot should be recalled immediately."
"But it wasn't."
"No, and it gets worse." Dane took the liberty of plunking down onto the edge of the empty bed beside Adams' chair. "They said that the..." he held the PADD out to her, too angry to speak. "Read for yourself."
Adams clenched her eyes a moment, and then opened them and tried to force them to focus on the text. "Risk to the population is deemed acceptable, despite the inconsistency in formulation when compared with regulated doses of..." her voice trailed off, and her look of astonishment turned to pure rage as she jumped up out of her chair. "They...knew, and they,"
"Intentionally diverted the shipment meant for another province to the Plains, for the children there." Dane concluded.
"Excuse me." Adams dropped the PADD down onto the chair in which she'd been sitting, hurried down the corridor to the closest lavatory, and barely made it there before her stomach reversed normal functioning.
She was literally sickened by the knowledge that not only had the manufacturer and the Bajoran Government known that the vaccine could kill, but they had coldly decided just which segment of the population was worthless enough to send as lambs to the slaughter.
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Ensign Dane Cristiane
Communications Officer
USS Alchemy/Serendipity
Currently on Bajor
and
Commander Azalea Adams
Starfleet Medical
Stationed on Bajor
Ensign Dane Cristiane
Communications Officer
USS Alchemy/Serendipity
Currently on Bajor
and
Commander Azalea Adams
Starfleet Medical
Stationed on Bajor