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MSPNPC RAdm. Ambrosius Corvus Regillensis — Snapshots


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(( [...]pit, USS Palisade ))

Excalibur.

Ambro dropped out of warp, keyed in a few commands on the engineering console, then activated the comm system and opened a channel.

Regillensis:  =/\= Palisade to Excalibur.  Come no closer.  My ship is now venting warp plasma both inside the cabin and out into space.  If you open fire on me, you’ll set off an explosion that will destroy my ship.

Ambro sneered as the image of Betazoid medical officer and illegitimate-son killer Genkos Adea appeared on the sideboard display.  The man’s response was unexpectedly taciturn.

Adea: =/\= Understood. =/\=

Uncertain why Adea was so calm in the face of such news, Ambro raised the stakes.

Regillensis:  =/\= And I wouldn’t attempt using the transporter, either.  The beam would also destabilize the plasma with a similar effect. =/\=

Adea: =/\= Well then, we seem to be at an impasse Admiral. =/\=

Did they know something he didn’t?  Why weren’t they reacting more?  Ambro’s fingers tapped at his console to key in a command sequence while his eyes remained trained on the screen.

Regillensis:  =/\= You and your Trill sidekick were amusing enough, Commander, but I’ve grown tired of dealing with you.  Go collect your girlfriend and get on with your life. =/\=

Adea: =/\= I’m afraid you’re not going to just walk away from this, Admiral. =/\=

Before Ambro could cut the transmission himself, Adea did so, and the screen returned to a sensor analysis of whatever god-forsaken corner of the Borderlands they happened to be situated in.  Ambro didn’t like how subdued Adea was; it made him feel uneasy.  The warp plasma had saturated the air in the cabin and the surrounding space outside, turning his position into a volatile bomb just waiting for a lit fuse.  He clamped down the vents and prepared to jump back to warp, but his ship refused to comply.

Regillensis:  Computer, why is the warp drive offline?

Computer:  Elevated antileptons in the vicinity are preventing the establishment of a stable warp field.

Ambro wished he had a PADD handy so he could chuck it at the wall.  Instead, he settled for a sharp contact between the heel of his hand and the edge of his control panel.  The clock was ticking, and he was running out of options. A moment later, the ship shuddered as a tractor beam locked on.

Regillensis:  Quid nunc faciam?

The warp core was useless to him as propulsion, but it might yet save him another way.  His hands and his voice worked in tandem, the result of years of practice in the art of saying and doing two different things at once.

Regillensis:  Computer, if anyone attempts to beam me off of this ship, execute the following commands in sequential order.

Computer:  Acknowledged.

As he got up from his seat, he briefly mused at the computer’s efficient and unquestioning compliance.  This might have been the last time he gave an order that was actually followed.  Assuming there wasn’t much time left to act, Ambro collected a handful of personal effects from one of the aft compartments.  Then he made a mad dash for his private quarters to collect one last thing.

 

(( Flashback – Presidio, San Francisco, Earth – 2376 ))

Regillensis:  Smile!

B. Wyke:  Oh, Ambro, why don’t you get in the picture with us this time?

Ambro lowered the holo-imager’s viewfinder from eye level.  She always asked, and he always evaded.

Regillensis:  You don’t want my face messing up an otherwise perfect portrait, now do you, Babs?

B. Wyke:  Ambrosius, please.  We don’t have any pictures of the three of us.

L. Wyke:  Please, pater?

Ambro’s 10-year-old son looked at him with hopeful eyes.  Whenever he looked at his most special son, he felt as though he could see into a thousand potential futures, each one brighter than the last.  Whatever Liam went on to become, Ambro knew he would be the best at it.  His eyes drifted from his son back to Barbara.

B. Wyke:  Just this once?

The combined persuasive force of Liam and his mother was too much for Ambro to resist, and he flagged down a passer-by to take a picture of their little unauthorized family unit.  Before handing over the holo-imager to the volunteer, a cheerful Human female called Helga, Ambro engaged the encryption protocol.  If an image of him with Barbara and Liam was going to exist, at least he could prevent the creation of additional copies without his access code.

Helga:  Say cheese!

SNAP.

(( End Flashback ))

 

Twenty-two years later, there still existed only one image of Ambro and Liam together: the one of their perfect day together on the Presidio.  Ambro opened the drawer of his bedside table and fished around inside to retrieve the data chip containing the holophoto, and his heart skipped a beat when his hand failed to grasp it.  The space around him became illuminated in transporter-beam-blue, and he vanished, leaving the photo behind.

Computer:  Initiating program Regillensis-Alpha-One.

Immediately, every console in the captain’s yacht crackled with the combined action of a computer core wipe and an EPS overload.  Moving from aft to bow, the computer virus disabled every section of the ship in turn, save the warp core, which was itself ten seconds from a breach.

 

(( Brig, Deck 3, USS Excalibur-A — moments later ))

Materializing inside a holding cell, Ambro arrived a few moments before his things, which beamed into the controlled access area across the room and outside of his reach.

oO Ambrosius, please.  We don’t have any pictures of the three of us. Oo

He sat down on the bench-by-day-bunk-by-night and let out an exhausted sigh.  Surely someone, he presumed Adea and Yalu, would be along shortly to welcome him aboard.

He wished he’d taken more pictures.

 

Tag / TBC

 

MSPNPC Rear Admiral Ambrosius Corvus Regillensis Starfleet Intelligence Czar Borderlands Sector Justin D238804DS0

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