Zylla Rian, XFY aCIO
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<Transporter Room 3, Xavier Fleet Yards>
The trepidation she'd been feeling ever since leaving Trill for XFY deepened the moment she stepped on to the station. She looked around, seeing everything for both the first time, and for the nth time, and noting the heightened security. XFY was hosting a bat’leth tournament, she was told, which was why the ship she’d hitched a ride on from had been put into a parking orbit rather than docking, and she’d been beamed over. She sighed, adjusting the strap of her bag so it sat more comfortably on her shoulder, and then nervously adjusting her commbadge and new rank pin as she headed for where she knew the nearest turbolift was.
Zylla: Deck 219.
The turbolift began its ascent, as she raised her hand to her shoulder. Grabbing empty air, her hand moved higher, grabbing a lock of chin-length black hair and tugging. The tug startled her out of her thoughts and she let go of her hair quickly.
Zylla: *muttering* I've got to try and control these habits that aren't mine.
The turbolift stopped, and she took a deep breath before walking out onto deck 219.
A human male and two Vulcans, one male, one female, stood in the small reception area of Xavier Fleet Yards Intel department. The female Vulcan stepped forward with a frank demeanor.
T'Ren: Good afternoon, Lieutenant. *taking note of Zylla's collar and pips* Your purpose here?
Zylla: *politely* Good afternoon, Ensign T'Ren. I'm here to report to Commander Jackson.
The Vulcan woman quirked an eyebrow, her head tilting to one side.
T'Ren: I have an eidetic memory, Lieutenant. You and I have not met. How do you know me?
Zylla's eyes going wide were the only outward reaction of what she'd just realised she'd done.
Zylla: ...I'm sorry about that, Ensign. My last host met you. *small cough* I'm still sorting out my memories from those of my past hosts.
T'Ren's eyebrow remained raised, but she relaxed and took her hand away from her sidearm.
T'Ren: Your name, Lieutenant? To which ship or unit are you attached? *gesturing at the retinal scanner* Identify yourself to the computer, etcetera. I'm sure you know the routine.
Zylla: Zylla Rian. I've just been stationed on Xavier.
Walking up to the retinal scanner, she stood on tiptoe on the rung of the stool next to it in order for it to scan her eye.
Zylla: Computer, identify. Rian, junior Lieutenant Zylla. Blue-5-9-Gamma.
Computer: There is no Rian, Zylla on record.
Zylla blinked, then swore in Trill.
Zylla: Don't tell me they haven't updated my files yet!
The three people in the reception area not Zylla Rian drew their phasers and pointed them in her direction. All three wore steely looks. T'Ren acted as their spokesperson.
T'Ren: Raise your hands, Ma'am. Keep them raised while Petty Officer Schrage confiscates your sidearm. Do not move or you will be fired upon. Do you understand?
You're being taken into custody under the authority of Starfleet Intelligence Directive 34 detailing the detention of unauthorized personnel. Do you understand?
Zylla suppressed the urge to keep going with swearing at the computer, and also suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she raised her hands.
Zylla: Could you please call Commander Jackson out here? He knows who I am.
Behind Zylla's back there was a sound. The double doors embossed with the logo of Starfleet Intelligence sliding open. A man's voice spoke, evidently addressing her.
Jackson: T'Ren, Schrage, Remek, stand down. I've been expecting *a pause* this person.
The one of the three guards Zylla could see lowered his weapon. Presumably the other two she could see also did so. Zylla lowered her hands cautiously, and then turned around. Then tilted her head back to look up at Jackson. Then tilted her head back further. He was a lot taller than he'd seemed via commscreen.
Zylla: *saluting* Reporting for duty, sir.
Jackson made a curt gesture indicating she should follow, and then turned to walk into the main area of the Intel Department without bothering to see if Zylla was even following. Zylla fell into step behind him, lengthening her step and walking a little faster than usual in order to keep up.
Jackson's voice was brisk and efficient; he didn't bother to turn around, though perhaps he did slow his pace ever so slightly.
Jackson: I'll see to it that your proper data is input to the station's computer. It should have already been so. My apologies, but our personnel have strict orders concerning the detention of those who attempt to enter this area without proper authorization. You'll have to go through the process of identifying yourself to the computer and passing retinal scan each time you come on shift and when you return to the department any time you leave during the course of your shift. I demand punctuality from my personnel, Lieutenant and there is usually a queue at shift rotation times.
He was leading her through a large open area with several worktables. Many people stopped to look up, a few pointed and spoke with one another as they passed. Jackson stopped at the doors of what looked like an office. Reading the doorplate, Zylla could see it belonged to him. Zylla nodded, even though she knew that he wouldn't be able to see that.
Zylla: *stopping behind Jackson* Yes sir.
Jackson keyed a sequence into the panel beside the door, and then nodded to the doors as they opened.
Jackson: This is my office. Don't even think of being in here if I'm not or I haven't told you to be. We're clear on that?
Zylla: Crystal, sir.
Jackson nodded, and walked into the room. Entering, he remained silent as he turned to look at the young Trill.
Jackson: Well? What're you waiting for?
Zylla cocked her head to the side and blinked, then silently walked into the office.
If Jackson's breath caught for just a second, it was just that, for a second. When he spoke, he was a man at the centre of his very universe.
Jackson: So, you're Zylla Rian.
She wasn't surprised; on the trip to XFY she'd decided it would be 50-50 as to whether Jackson would be able to tell before she told him herself. She nodded slowly.
Zylla: Yes, sir, I am.
Jackson: *deadpan* And you're here. On Xavier. Why?
He slowly walked behind his desk, but didn't sit. He turned around to face her from the other side of the desk, as though confidant it was moat against something that he did not understand.
Jackson: The fleet would have put you somewhere else if you asked. Why are you here, Zylla *Rian*?
Zylla had been about to reply with the obvious, then stopped and cocked her head to one side again as she tried to answer that very same question herself.
Zylla: *slowly* Because asking for a transfer off Xavier before I even got here would have been too much like running away.
Jackson's eyebrows went up and he nodded in her direction. Perhaps he was impressed? Slowly he sat behind his desk, but did not yet invite her to take a seat. Zylla put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together, to keep herself from accidentally slipping into Jaell's hair-tugging habit again, and waited silently.
Jackson waited a solid minute, sitting behind his desk. For perhaps ten or fifteen seconds he perused a PADD. Setting it down, all he did was *look* at Zylla, his blue eyes boring into hers, weighing and measuring. Then he nodded at one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Jackson: Take a seat, Lieutenant.
Zylla nodded back, unlacing her fingers so she could put her bag down next to one of the chairs and then sat in it, putting her hands together in her lap and lacing the fingers together again. Jackson's eyes held hers a moment longer, then returned to the PADD. He tapped it, pursing his lips and then raising an eyebrow.
Jackson: Three Nausicaans and a Ferengi, Lieutenant?
Zylla: *without batting an eyelid* They were irritating me.
Jackson: And Cardonia Prime? Who irritated you that time?
Zylla: That time was my older brother.
Jackson nodded, seemingly content with her answers. He picked up another PADD from his desk, tapping it with a finger. After a moment he set it down.
Jackson: And tell me, Lieutenant, what was it like to be one of the first Trills in Starfleet?
Zylla was silent for a few moments, sorting through all of her new 'memories,' and thinking.
Zylla: It was...complicated. Those of us who joined Starfleet, we didn't talk about the symbionts much. Not after the misunderstanding when we first met the Federation. But it was also interesting. Most of the races in the Federation were ones we'd never met before,
so we got to learn a lot about them.
Jackson nodded, leaning back in his chair.
Jackson: Lieutenant, I shall be perfectly frank on the subject at hand. Your job will be challenging, demanding and fast paced. Depending on the circumstances, it could even be hazardous.
Jackson rose, walking to the replicator and tapping a key. He took a coffee tray from the
dispenser and set it on the desk.
Jackson: *aside, gesturing at the tray* Help yourself. *taking a cup of coffee and a Danish pastry from the tray and sitting* My question would be are you sufficiently in control of yourself, your selves perhaps I should say, to be capable in the position to which you've been assigned?
She thought about that as she poured a coffee for herself, then adding milk and quite a bit of sugar.
Zylla: Yes. Sure, I'm still constantly finding myself slipping into habits that aren't mine, and saying things that I -- that *Zylla* -- didn't know, but that's not going to stop me from doing my job. If I thought it would interfere, I'd still be on Trill adjusting before coming out here.
Jackson raised an eyebrow, his coffee and Danish untouched.
Jackson: You're here to do your duty? And that's all? There's no other reason for you to be here?
She stirred another sugar into her coffee, still not having drunk any, and looked up to look Jackson square in the eyes.
Zylla: There are reasons enough for me not to be here, sir, but like I said...that would have been too much like running away. I'm here to do my duty. *she cleared her throat and glanced down quickly before looking up* And Rian -- and I, I guess -- want to see what happened to Jaell get solved.
For a moment, Jackson's features visibly softened. He looked away, addressing the floor.
Jackson: You're, neither of you, the only ones. I still have a team on the matter, working with Culshaw at Medical and with *he caught himself, then stopped* and with Station Security.
Zylla didn't say anything when Jackson caught was he was saying. She looked a little sad, then something Jackson said -- or, rather, didn't say -- caught her attention.
Zylla: Not with Tirren Niko?
Jackson turned to look at Zylla, his eyebrows both rising.
Jackson: You *have* been away. A day after you...I mean...a day after Jaell died,
Tirren Niko was killed. Neither of the people sent to guard him had arrived yet, but he and fourteen others died when their transport exploded. DS9 reported no survivors. CID has a vessel looking in to if the explosion was an accident or not. My guess? Not.
Zylla lowered her head, looking down into the untouched coffee in her cup.
Zylla: Oh...*clears throat, looks up* That means the files he had, too...and if the ones in Infirmary were being wiped...*bites her lip, thinking* What about Jaell's personal backups?
Jackson: *raising an eyebrow, genuinely surprised* I wasn't aware there were any. Her quarters have been sealed. No one has been in them since she died, except to get her dress uniform for the casket.
Zylla nodded, her mind whirring as she sorted out the memories she wanted to look at.
Zylla: Yes…she got mad at you a couple of years ago, and began keeping PADD backups of all her important files in her quarters. It became a habit that she never lost. The last backup she did was the night before…*falters slightly*…before she woke up sick.
Jackson took a sip of the coffee mug in his hands, swallowing thoughtfully.
Jackson: Only one thing to do, really. I’ll speak with the command staff, exactly who, well that’s in a state of flux at the moment, and then see to it you take custody of what is, after all, your property.
Zylla sighed and looked into her cup, tilting it slightly to make the coffee swirl around in it.
Zylla: Yes...Nyv...*they* probably consider everything evidence, right?
Jackson tilted his head to one side, a bemused look passing over his face as he pondered how to respond to both the question and the mutual inclination that was apparent in his office at present, that being to avoid any reference to the station's security chief.
Jackson: I once knew a prosecutor who used to declare everything she could to be evidence, to disrupt the lives of those whom she intended to prosecute. Someone in Station Security's ranks has evidently taken lessons. Yo...those...particular...apartments, are guarded, to this day, by a phalanx of security officers in body armour and mourning armbands, with phaser rifles. Now, could I get past them, one way or another, possibly. But it's something that will have to end. Something for Admiral Arelwynn or Commander Kajiada to deal with though, really. Not my business, or yours. *after a moment, and quietly* She's going to have to realize, no matter how many legionnaires she posts, the stone isn't going to roll away.
Zylla tilted her head to the side and blinked, looking puzzled.
Zylla: The...stone?
Jackson: *raising a rueful eyebrow* My apologies, Lieutenant. I voiced my thoughts. But, that said, do you mean to tell me that at no time in ten lifetimes did you study comparative religion?
Zylla frowned, digging through all of her memories, trying to come up with the reference.
Zylla: In past lives, there's been some study of it...Kardasi -- well, Hebitian, the modern Cardassians don't have much to do with it; Bajoran, Rihannsu....*frowns, keeps thinking*
Legionnaires....that would make it the Terran Christian religion, I think....but I can't remember anything about a stone rolling away.
Jackson nodded, then stood and walked to one of the bookshelves that lined his office's walls. Pressing a brief sequence into the panel adjoining the bookshelf, he deactivated the force field that protected the contents from damage.
Jackson: I'm going to give you a couple of things, Lieutenant. A book of poems, by a man named William Butler Yeats, a human poet. And a book that will tell you the story of the stone to which I referred, as well as many other bloody tales, which at their core made up one of the great human spiritualities. *selecting two books from the shelf and then reactivating the force field before turning around* These are loaners, you understand? I expect them back when you've finished with them.
Jackson walked to his desk and laid the books near the edge, closest to his new assistant, then sat again behind his desk.
Jackson: Of course, this is an aside, but the reference I made pertains to the resurrection of a man named Jesus from the dead. It's said, and it's debated even now by some as to if this is myth or history, that he rose from the dead. A fanciful tale, I say. But I was referring to his tomb. An analogy not entirely appropriate, and quite flawed. But this is what you get when you get me thinking aloud. *a bow of his head* My apologies, Lieutenant.
Zylla looked at the two books on the desk and nodded.
Zylla: Thank-you, sir. *looks up, shakes head* I find when people start thinking aloud, that's when you learn the most. *very softly* For good or ill.
She swirled the coffee around again, and cleared her throat.
Zylla: So I should ask the Admiral if he could do something so Security will let me into Jaell's quarters to find those PADDs?
Jackson leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully.
Jackson: Well, Lieutenant, it's entirely possible we can get into those particular quarters without including the CO. I have authority as station second officer. And there's the matter of just whom exactly it would be letting us in to consider. I could.... handle her *a
small cough* handle the *matter* in your stead, if you'd prefer.
Zylla sighed, and looked up, absently fingering her collar.
Zylla: Right now...that would probably be best, sir. *glances down* I'm going to have to...sooner or later...though...
Jackson nodded, and then stood up, clearly deciding a change of topic was necessary.
Jackson: Chief Mason will be briefing you, Lieutenant, regarding your role as A/CIO in charge of Operations. It's a matter of courtesy that I'm sure someone with your experience understands that I'm letting John keep his office; we'll just put the appropriate nameplates in the appropriate places. Don't worry, his is a closet anyway.
A clear attempt at humour.
Zylla nodded, not bothering to hide relief at the topic change, and also stood up, putting her cup down on the desk.
Zylla: Yes, sir.
Jackson: You probably also noticed the heightened security on-station. Over the next few days we’re going to be playing host to a fleet-wide bat’leth competition.
Zylla: Yes sir. I heard that when I arrived, when the ship I was on had to be put in a parking orbit. That means Xavier’s about to be overrun with Klingons, I take it?
Jackson: Along with everyone else in the fleet that knows which end of a bat’leth is which.
Jackson indicated the offered books on the desk with a tilt of his head as he made his way to the door, tapping his commbadge to summon John Mason to Mason's own office.
Jackson: Don't forget your books. By the way, would you prefer a man or a woman?
Zylla picked up her bag and shouldered it, then carefully picked up the books.
Zylla:...how do you mean, sir?
Jackson stopped short, turning to face the young woman he was going to have to accept as both one of his principle aides and as the next incarnation of the Trill symbiont Rian, whom he'd known as a doctor with whom he butted heads as often as he agreed. Then again, his discomfort was likely a small patch on Zylla's own. Still though, he was stern looking at her.
Jackson: Do you remember Jaell remembering Ms. Kincaid, my aide?
Zylla: *raising an eyebrow* Your bodyguard, you mean? Sir.
Jackson grinned, nodding and impressed.
Jackson: Yes, indeed. Ms. Kincaid is a member of what down here we call Foxtrot Squad. An elite unit that provides various services to a select group of people. Myself, Mr. Hanniman, the A/CIO for Analysis. Mr. Singh, the a/CIO for Strategic Operations. And you.
Zylla simply nodding, not saying anything and waiting for Jackson to go on. Jackson continued, visibly considering how to phrase his next words.
Jackson: Well, given your situation, I'm going to be making it mandatory that your Fox, be with you at all times while you're on duty. And I'm going to suggest, though not require, his or her presence in your company when you're off duty. Given how...how things worked out for you. The last you I mean.
Immediately Jackson shut his mouth, aware of just how cavalier he'd sounded and just how wrong that was.
Zylla looked up and blinked, then smiled grimly.
Zylla: And Zaeny before Jaell, too. Rian hosts seem to be having a run of bad luck with life expectancy.
She shifted the books in her arms, and then nodded slowly.
Zylla: All right. I understand. *another grim smile* I'd kind of like to break that cycle, myself.
Jackson nodded, handing Zylla a PADD.
Jackson: Those are the members of Foxtrot Squad who are currently up for rotation of their current duties. You're free to select of your own accord. They're all quite capable of the duties required of them. Hence I ask, a man or a woman? It really is up to you.
As the two left the office, Jackson turned to look at Rian, she was Rian, again.
Jackson: Precious few things in this life or any other are entirely up to us, Lieutenant. So cherish this decision, as small as it might be.
Zylla nodded again, taking the PADD in her free hand and examining the list there.
Zylla: Yes sir.
Jackson: *nodding* I'm aware you've been killed in action before, Lieutenant. But I don't intend for you to be killed in action this time.
There was only a ghost of a smile this time, quickly wiped back to a neutral expression and a nod.
Zylla: Yes sir. Experiencing it twice was more than enough.
Jackson nodded at Zylla, then at the approaching Ms. Kincaid.
Jackson: Ahh, Claire. Meet Zylla Rian. Lieutenant Zylla Rian. She'll be our a/CIO operations, taking over from John.
Kincaid's nod was civil, and she called Zylla "Ma'am." But beyond that, her poised demeanor was frosty at best. Jackson ignored her apparent lack of pleasantry.
Jackson: I take it Mr. Mason is ready to meet his new boss, Ms. Kincaid?
Kincaid: *coming to attention* Sir, yessir. He's awaiting your convenience, sir. Yours and the Lieutenant's.
Jackson raised an eyebrow at Kincaid, and then nodded for her to fall in. Turning again to Rian, he smiled again, a crooked grin.
Jackson: Ready, then?
She half-wanted to say no, but instead she just nodded.
Zylla: Ready sir.
OFF
~By~
Lt. Cmdr. David Jackson
Chief Intelligence Officer
Xavier Fleet Yards
~and~
Lt. j.g. Zylla Rian
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer (Operations)
Xavier Fleet Yards
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Zylla Arrives (Read 829 times)
