From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: No Escape From Reality Part 10 Date: 7 Apr 1993 23:52:29 GMT Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA) Lines: 150 Message-Id: <1pvpft$8sm@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> Nntp-Posting-Host: thor.ins.cwru.edu Part 10 (of 17!) Awakened from the first decent night's sleep he'd managed since they'd arived at the Guardian planet, Picard was not in the best of moods. If his security chief requested his presence and told him they had a prisoner, God only knew what was in store for them now. The landing party and most of the security team had beamed up with their new 'guest', who seemed nonplussed by the entire process. Resplendent in his scarlet jacket and bright red slacks, mirrored tie partially hanging, but intact, he was a sight and a half for Picard's eyes. The Captain approached the man cautiously, glancing over at Worf for explanation. "He came through the portal." His voice was indignent, as if offended by the entire incident. "Like the other one." Al's eyebrows lifted slightly at the words, but he allowed no other outward sign to reach his expression. Sam was here! He rejoiced inwardly, thanking Ziggy for hitting the target. The tall bald guy seemed to be the one in charge. Striding over to the oddly dressed little man, Picard placed his hands onhis hips, towering over his new arrival. "What is your name and how did you manage to arrive here?" Casually, almost insolently, Al removed the cigar from his lips. "Admiral Albert Calavicci," he answered, his voice and tone flat and emotionless. "United States Navy, Serial Number two, six, one, five, one, four, five, three, three." "I asked you a direct question. How did you arrive here?" Wide brown eyes met cold and furious grey ones, Al's smooth gaze infuriating. The Admiral almost smiled, but not quite. "It was the most amazing thing. I was standing there and tapped my heels together three times, saying 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home..." He glanced at Worf and then back to the Captain. "Then, Whammo, I'm in Munchkinland. Are you the Wizard--or Glinda?" The Captain's color went from dead white to deep burgendy. Turning on his heel, he strode back to Worf. "Keep him here, for the time being. Question him, if you can stand it." "Hey--Baldy?" The Captain stiffened, bristling at the out and out insult. "Can I kill him now, Sir?" Worf suggested. Tempted by his Security Officer's words, the Captain untensed, not wanting his crew to see him in such an agitated state. He turned back tot he 'Admiral', bending slightly, delicatley trading one insult for another without words. "Can I help you?" "You have a light?" Al waved his cigar in the air. "I really could use one." "I'll see to it. You will remain here, with Lt. Worf. I shall return shortly." "Is this a Navy vessel?" Al tilted his chin up as he spoke, his bearing belying his crazy quilt clothes and attitude. "If it is, and this is what I think it _all_ is...and you're the ranking officer...I outrank _you_." "I hardly think so." Picard had enough of the man for the moment. Right now all he wanted was to interrogate Beckett and delve more into the history of their new guest. His personal communicator beeped insistantly, and Picard turned away from the squad and prisoner, answering the call. "Captain here." "Prescott, Sir. Our visitor has escaped." Picard felt the blood drain from his face. Glancing back he was reassured that this Admiral whatever his name was had not heard the guards words. "Keep this quiet, Lieutenant," he said, keeping his voice modulated. "Find that man." ******************* Sam Beckett had managed to distract the guards, after figuring out different and sundry codes that were common usage on the Enterprise computer. What he thought would take hours, took only a matter of minutes, and he was surprised at the ease of brushing past the instructional programs they had left for him. Once past the first hurdle, he assayed the Enterprises layout, memorizing those areas that he thought were near or around his quarters. When he moved past that point he disrupted power to some strategic areas, confident that he would not be discovered as the sabouteur until he'd escaped. The security alarms went off obediantly as he hit the proper keys, ignoring the 'eyes only' features, and cutting to the chase. He actually giggled giggled like a little kid at the ease of it all, then, shut down the monitor and left the quarters to further explore the ship on foot. ************** Picard explained the situation to his Security Chief and Worf went out to hunt down Beckett. Sighing, the Captain returned to the newest addition, knowing hemust be the one to interrogate him, now that Worf had otehr duties. "How did you get here?" "Admiral Albert Calavicci," Al repeated patiently, frowning at his unlit cigar. He really needed a smoke. "Serial number..." "Answer my question!" "Admiral Albert Calavicci, U.S. Navy." He grinned beguilingly. "Serial Number two, six, one, five, one, four, five, three, three." "I know who you are, Admiral!" Picard barely kept his roar in check. "How did you arrive and fell through the Guardian?? I demand an answer!" "Admiral...Albert...Calavicci." He said the words delicately, amused at the interesting change in this man's coloration. "U.S....Navy. Serial Number..." "Perhaps we should change tacts," Picard said, through gritted teeth. "My name is Captain Jean Luc Picard, Captain of this ship, the Enterprise." "Fancy that," Al replied, waiting for the man to continue. "My patience is wearing thin...Admiral. We have ways of interrogation that are not that unpleasant, but do achieve results." "Bluffs don't work with me." A dark eyebrow arched over suddenly dangerous dark eyes. "I've been tortured by the best; it didn't work then, and it won't work now. You'll get name, rank, and serial number, and that's it, Amigo. Loose lips sink ships, y'know." Pursing his lips, Picard steered away from his prisoner, that lingering headache growing suddenly worse. He almost would have preferred if this man had arrived here in the same state as Beckett; unconscious. Al patted his pockets, finally finding the desired item and lighting up his cigar, puffing it into being. There, he felt more human already! It was actually kind of fun to watch the Captain lose his temper, but knew easily when to stop. He hadn't gotten the postion he was in by being a gullible fool who lost his temper easily. If he told himself he wasn't scared, he'd be a liar. What had Sam gotten himself into this time?? more to come... -- "Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI