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Lt JG Yael & Lt Blackwell - The Propaganda Artist Attacks


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OOC: This JP between @Prudence "Rue" Blackwell and @Ashley Yael gives us more of Jafarr and his craziness, not to mention some very realistic reactions on the part of those he's accosting.  Just loving this!

 

((Starbase 118 Ops - Sickbay))

 

PRIORITY MESSAGE: MANDATORY LEAVE

 

To: StarBase 118 Ops Senior Staff

 

From: Commodore Sal Taybrim

 

As we return to StarBase 118, I want to let you all know that we are celebrating a most successful mission.  Thank you all for your tremendous work.  We have not only strengthened our alliance with the Klingon Empire but done an incredible service to all our neighbors which will help ensure peaceful relations moving forward.

 

This news has reached the Federation newslines.  Starfleet Intel has confirmed that StarBase 118 will very soon be crawling with FNS reporters, all looking for a scoop.

 

To this end Admiral Hauke and I both believe that the crew that worked so hard to bring this change about does not need the added stress of being hounded by often hostile new personalities.  We will dock at StarBase 118 at 0100 base time and you will have four hours to gather everything you need for a two week vacation and report back to the Narendra.  We will be quietly staying at an all-inclusive private resort reserved for situations just like this. 

 

I have messaged officers involved in this ongoing mission who stayed on StarBase 118 to join us on the Narendra when we dock.  This vacation is meant to be relaxing in the utmost while Starfleet Diplomatic Corps takes the heat from the media buzz.

 

If you have any questions, please let me know.

 

~Commodore Sal Taybrim

Commanding Officer, StarBase 118

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Rue had taken time to change into something far more comfortable - a pair of black slacks and a light sweater. Along the way back, she got a message regarding their orders for shore leave, and read them along the way. As she got into the room, she smiled faintly to Yael.

 

Blackwell: Looks like we have our orders for rest and relaxation ::Noting that he was reading the same orders she’d just reviewed::

 

Yael:  Well… that does sound *nice.*  ::meaning the message as he finished reading the order that Sheila had mentioned::  We should get our things and high tail it to the Narendra.

 

He slid his feet to the floor and then paused, glancing down at himself.  His symptoms were slightly less obtrusive now, but he wasn’t going anywhere fast, especially  barefoot and in sickbay patient PJ’s.

 

Rue watched and chuckled faintly as he looked at his current clothing.

 

Yael:  I should definitely change first.

 

Blackwell: Very likely. ::And she turned, giving him a bit of privacy. Meanwhile, she was considering what she needed to bring, making a mental list. She was looking forward to a vacation herself. A breather. Time to think through the last few weeks, and perhaps actually just consider a few side projects.::

 

He was still a bit unsteady, but moved to pull the privacy partition back so he could dress.  He had a fresh uniform folded on the table next to him… politely provided in preparation for his departure.  He pulled off the medical pajama top, noting he was almost completely free of bruising, save some lightly remaining discolorations where it must have been the worst… he *knew* he’d been thrown around quite badly… and he tried not to think too deeply about how much attention he’d required while unconscious.

 

It was his *head* he was concerned about most as he pulled on his uniform and closed the collar, securing what dignity he had left.  He was still a bit dizzy, colors seemed almost obnoxiously bright, and there was a dull, endless ache behind his eyes.

 

He really could use that vacation.

 

As he came back around, she turned and smiled a bit

 

Yael:  Got to get my sea legs back.  ::beat::  I just need to grab my personal computer from my quarters.  Did you need to stop by yours?

 

Blackwell: No, I’m all right. I’ll just come along with you. Everything I need I’ll either buy, replicate, or have shipped.::She smiled and moved to the door to open it for them, a soft swoosh sound as she touched the panel, stepping out from sickbay with Ashley::

 

The walk was pleasant, if slow, as they walked. She kept her pace nice and easy, and off and on paused to tap at her PADD to have something sent to her quarters on the Nandrendra. She paused as she heard  some sort of brujahjah ahead of them, lifting her eyes as she viewed the scene.

 

The pair walked as a somewhat slow pace… the Denobulan hybrid was none too quick at the moment, though he was getting steadier on his feet as he moved a bit more… he had his computer and a couple small things in the smallest of travel satchels slung over his chest diagonally.  They were making their way down the corridor when there was a bit of a commotion behind them past the intersection.

 

Ashley turned, about to ask what the fuss was about, when a quartet of persons in a coordinated group appeared at the interchange.  A Trill, a Human, a Bajoran, and a Bolian, all equipped with rather professional looking gear that included headphones and microphone headsets.

 

Their eyes landed on Ashley and Rue, and he felt something of a pit growing in his stomach as the group *rushed* down the hallway toward them.  He almost tried to move toward the wall slightly, because he thought they would rush *past* them.

 

Nope.

 

The quartet of slightly winded journalists stopped and hovered far too close to the pair, essentially trapping them on the wall of the corridor.  The Bolian spoke first, and *fast,* clearly the ring leader to this dog and pony show.  He weaseled next to Ashley, tucking in close… *too* close, making the Denobulan flinch at the proximity.

 

The reporters reminded Rue intensely of a group of carrion eaters, swooping down on a desiccated corpse on the side of the road. She grabbed Ashley’s shoulders, steadying him and attempting to protect him, pushing herself between Jafarr and the Denobulan hybrid.

 

Jafarr:  ::looking into the camera carried by the Trill::  This is Jafarr Symote, and I’m with Lieutenants Blackwell and Yael of Starbase One-Eighteen!  ::he turned and dark blue-black eyes zeroed in on Rue::  Ladies first, am I right?  So, what part did you play in this whole Klingon cult business?  Nasty stuff, the Cult of Molar.

 

Blackwell: My role was transport, communications and intervention - we simply were doing what was needed for the good of the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the safety of all. ::It was practiced, succinct and exact::

 

Jafarr:  ::hardly letting her finish::  Did you see any hand-to-hand combat?  Get any kills?  Bring home a bat’leth?

 

Blackwell: Thank you, no more questions ::She tried to move past once more, unsuccessfully::

 

Jafarr:  ::almost interrupting again::  That’s a new hair style, it’s very bold.  It’s a Power Cut, if I do say so myself, and I *do* say so.  New relationship, new look, amIright?

 

She wanted to take a breath but she put on a well practiced smile on her face, aware of the cameras on her

 

The Bolian gave Yael a strangely knowledgeable look and nudged the weirded out Denobulan in the ribcage with his elbow, making him flinch slightly yet again at the undesirable contact.  The Bolian promptly forgot about Rue in a singular moment and his eyes zeroed in on Ashley, who likely looked like a trapped cat.

 

It was remarkable that she kept the smile on her face, as when he elbowed Ashley, she had the distinct want to show him how good at hand to hand she really was.

 

Jafarr:  So, tell our viewers what a *counselor* and a *pacifist* is doing leading a secret Strike Team behind enemy lines?  You’re kind of *small* to be leading Marines into combat, aren’t you?

 

Ashley was too surprised at the bold and very knowledgeable question to respond properly in the short second the Bolian stopped talking.

 

Jafarr:  You were injured.  Struck by Klingon pain sticks, OUCH, am I right?  They didn’t stick you anywhere *sensitive* did they?  ::beat::  Is it true you rode thirteen wild targ down the corridor of the Klingon High Council?

 

As Rue attempted to carefully and gracefully separate Yael and the reporter, she caught the questions and wondered what form of chemical fumes he had inhaled before coming to entrap them.

 

Yael:  ::finally finding his shocked voice::  What?  No!

 

Jafarr:  No, hmm?  Shame, that.  Missed opportunity you’ll regret.  ::barely pausing between sentences::  Do you think it’s a good idea for Star Fleet to be sending unprepared non-combatants into combat operations?

 

Yael:  I’ve-

 

Jafarr:  ::interrupting again::  Especially someone with a history of psychological instability and substance abuse issues?  How *do* you get such rave reviews from your crewmates when you can’t even control your *own* addictions?

 

She narrowed her eyes at that. She couldn’t help it, she was getting impatient, angry and most of all, protective.  

 

If Ashley wasn’t shocked into silence he would have bristled at the incredibly hostile question.  His embarrassment was written in his expression, but before he could speak the Bolian turned to Rue again at warp speed.  He had seemed to note her shift in mood and intended to capitalize on her for the cameras.

 

Jafarr:  Lieutenant Blackwell, what’s the nature of your relationship with Lieutenant Yael?  You’re gorgeous.  ::turning to Yael shortly::  Isn’t she gorgeous?  ::turning back to Rue again::  With his eyes and ridges, and your *WHISTLES* ::he motioned crudely to ALL of her::, your illegitimate, unmarried love babies will be *beautiful,* amIRIGHT?

 

Blackwell: Yael - do not respond ::She said, her voice was impeccably calm despite the heat rising in her veins. She looked to Jafarr quietly::

 

Yael:  ::flustered, trying to formulate something intelligent::  This is *incredibly* inappro-

 

Jafarr:  The ladies in the audience want to know, Lieutenant Yael, do the ridges go ALL the way down?

 

The protest inside him was frozen, and Ashley stiffened visibly, flushing hard as he glanced at the camera.  Good gods, this wasn’t *live*, was it?!

 

Blackwell: :She stepped forward:: Mr….Symote was it? ::She gently pushed Yael behind her::  I understand you are all - very- eager for a story, and I know that you have a lot of questions ::And directly to the camera:: Which is reasonable as citizens do need to know what is being done to protect the galaxy, uphold the values of the Federation, and of course, keep people safe :And she smiled:: however, I happen to recall Mr. Symote that your specialty in reporting is more…..::She paused:: 

 

Jafarr:  ::butting in again with a feisty smile::  You’re right!  I get the meat!  I tell people what they want to know.  ::his smile turned slightly::  Seems you’re the *man* of the pair.  So *protective*.  How admirable!

 

He was baiting her again, that smile ever on his face.

 

Blackwell::She raised both brows to that:: Are you always so ….::she considered:: quaintly antiquated, Mr. Symote? ::She looked amused now, and looked brightly to the reporter:: 

 

Jafarr:  Oh, I married my yoga instructor.  Then divorced her three months later, HA!  ::he didn’t seem torn up over the loss::  She wasn’t nearly as modern as you.

 

Blackwell: Oh, I’m not modern. I’m practical, when I need to be ::She shook her head and looked to the reporter:: So if you are really curious into what is the meat of the situation, why don’t you ask about …::And then she was caught off guard::

 

Jafarr: So this isn’t the first individual you’ve dated with ::And he said with a mock low whisper:: Difficult emotional situation. How about your ex-fiance…. 

 

Blackwell::And then it was her turn to cut him off:: Please Mr. Symote - that’s very old news. ::She shook her head:: If that is the best you have…

 

Jafarr::And then he gave a devious grin, and leaned into the woman, practically looming over her:: And what about the investigation into the Salters? 

 

Now it was her turn to be caught entirely off guard. Rue’s face stayed perfectly calm, but her eyes were brighter, as nerves and anger started to make her heart beat far too rapidly. 

 

Jafarr:: It’s all so -intriguing and interesting- ::The Reporter pressed, smelling blood now:: Scientists who developed cutting edge technology, known for their brilliance, innovative focus, tragically killed in a seemingly mindless accident. What would have prompted you to get curious about that? ::He pressed the microphone closer to her mouth, and she felt herself lean back against Ashley::

 

The Denobulan hybrid had cringed at every touch, but now felt something sterner growing inside him as Rue leaned back into him.  They needed to *end* this encounter.  His shock at the verbal assault had worn off, even if just slightly, and he boldly reached to grasp her wrist tightly… and with as hard a shove as he dared, he shoved his way past the Bolian and the team members with Rue at a brisk jog.

 

Jafarr:  Hey!  Lieutenants!  *Lieutenants!!*

 

Ashley kept up the speedy pace until they hit a turbolift and the doors slid shut behind them, at which point he finally released Rue’s wrist and pressed himself against the turbolifts wall, looking somewhat panicked, and a bit shocked at his own behavior.  Amethyst eyes looked downward at nothing for a moment, then flicked up at her.  He also gripped his hand where he’d held her, holding his own hand as if it had offended him somehow.  The feeling of crawling beneath his skin was starting, but it was a short contact… he could manage it.  But the sudden activity had sent his head spinning a bit, and he wasn’t very steady for a moment.

 

Rue was almost numb to sensation as she was pulled, trying to work out precisely where those questions had come from, how he could have known to ask, and mostly, what it meant. When she was tugged, it was easy - Yael went and so did she, lead like a cut right into the turbolift. As Yael released her, she moved against the wall and breathed hard, and slapped her hand against the panel to close the door. 

 

Yael:  Sorry for grabbing you.  That wasn’t an interview… it was an *assault.*

 

Blackwell: ::her voice wavering a bit:: He was rather….rabid wasn’t he? ::She cleared her throat and straightened, and furrowed her brow:: ...Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you did he? 

 

Yael:  ::laughing lightly, but it was forced::  Just my pride.  You?

 

Blackwell: No, it’s...nothing ::She shook her head and folded her arms:: We should get you looked at though - just to make sure ::Quickly focusing the conversation on him:: When we get on the ship, lets call Wyn.

 

Yael:  I’m okay.  Really.

 

He released his hand, grasping the fingers into a fist a couple times before forcing himself to let it hang normally, despite the creeping feeling sliding into his wrist.  He *could* control it.  He *would.*

 

Blackwell:...Okay, I just want to make sure you are okay - that ….::her fist clenched:: that reporter ….I wish I could have slugged him.

 

Yael:  You know, the same thought crossed my mind.  But that would have made *great* material for his viewers… I can see the headline now… “popular shock jock punched by pacifist.”

 

Blackwell:An exhale:: No, that would not have helped anything - made things worse really. 

 

Yael:  Ah… reorienting, and realizing they hadn’t given the turbolift a command::  Take us to the deck where the Narendra is docked.

 

The computer calculated the command and the lights began to slide past as they were taken to the proper deck.  The turbolift doors opened, and thankfully there were no journalists waiting to maul them in the corridor.

 

Yael:  ::moving into the corridor::  How did he even *know* all that…

 

There were numerous things the Bolian had said that he shouldn’t have known about.  Not just information about the mission to Qo’nos, but *private* information… *medical* information.

 

Blackwell: I really don’t know either …..:::she frowned:: But I will find out.

Yael:  Maybe we should report the encounter to security.  There’s no way he could legitimately have known all that…

 

The Denobulan hybrid fell somewhat silent as they walked.  He was *not* going to ask what the “Salters” investigation was about… Rue had had a palpable reaction to that statement.  But he also felt a bit awkward, and embarrassed… he’d had several things exposed in rapid fire that he’d have preferred *hadn’t* been.

 

Blackwell:::While he was awkward, she was angry...but she was focused on keeping that anger controlled, and held from the sensitive denobulan:: So...lets think through this. How could he have logically gotten information like that.

 

Yael:  That would require his source to have access to the information.  Someone with a high security clearance.  ::pausing, then more quietly::  Who would *do* that?  Anyone in Starfleet should know better… unless he offered them a bribe they couldn’t refuse?

 

Blackwell: Bribe….or something else ::She glanced to him::

Yael:  Or he could have something on them, and in order to keep their own secrets on the down low, they feed him private information about others… not much better that way though.

 

Blackwell: Then there’s a mole. ::She exhaled slowly, and put her hand up, pressing the heel of her hand against her temple to ease the ache:: Well, we are not going to fix it right now. We escape on shore leave, report the incident...and hope to relax somehow.

 

Yael:  True… ::not liking the lack of certainty::  What do we do now, then?

 

Blackwell: Only thing I can think of...right now….::She then exhaled and quipped:: Besides you know, taking a ship and disappearing to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

 

Yael:  Right.  ::smiling lightly::  We probably shouldn’t hunt him down and steal all his equipment.

 

Blackwell::A slight smile:: I suppose not.

 

The pair made their way the rest of the way to the Narendra, boarding with plenty of time for take-off.



 

~*~

 

Jafarr Symote

Propaganda Artist & Journalist

Written by Ashley Yael

C238211TZ0


 

Lieutenant JG Ashley Yael

Counselor

Starbase 118 Ops

C238211TZ0

 

Lt. Prudence Blackwell

Comms/Ops

Starbase 118

G239308PB0

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