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Ensign Quentin Beck - Chain of Command, Schmain of Command


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there is so MUCH drama and so MUCH going on in this scene and still @Quentin Beck makes me enjoy every line of his silly self

 

((Administrators Office,  Landing City, Grus Beta Three.))

 

For a second, Quentin thought maybe the Vulcan couldn't see him, despite the fact they were nose to nose. The readings on his tricorder were going wild - elevated heartbeat, elevated blood pressure, and elevated brain activity that suggested he was actively hallucinating. Frankly, if he hadn't been Vulcan, he would either have been tearing the room to shreds or deep in the thralls of a severe seizure. 

 

Emzai: Kipal…

 

Whatever chaotic images he'd been seeing must have snapped into place when he'd heard Emzai say his name because his head snapped to look at her, rather than Quentin. That… didn't make him feel any better, between the readings on the tricorder and the tension in Kipal's shoulders.

 

While Kipal's attention was drawn away, the Doctor dropped his hand towards the pocket holding the hypospray. It would take a helluva sedative to knock the crazed Vulcan out, probably applied a few different times even, but it was better than nothing. He probably would have managed it, too, if Kipal hadn't seemed to make a decision in that moment and grab his shoulders.

 

Quentin tensed, his eyes growing wide as the Vulcan pushed him back towards the wall. He'd almost lost his grip on the tricorder but somehow managed to sustain it, continuing to draw in more and more data regarding his current state, which would only prove useful if he didn't put Quentin through the wall as he seemed to intend. He let out a grunt as his shoulders collided with it, then a soft gasp when he felt pressure against his chest as Kipal pressed a shoulder against it.

 

Beck: ::grunting out under his breath:: I've heard of peer pressure, but this is ridiculous…

 

He was starting to think he should have paid a little more attention in close-quarters combat training back at the Academy, but he'd always struggled with fights that weren't choreographed. He wasn't much of a dancer, either - most of the time he lacked the rhythm many people held naturally. Assuming his heart wasn't pierced by his ribs snapping under Kipal's assault, maybe he'd plan on learning to samba.

 

Kipal: :: struggling :: Emzai … your mind … anger … it's … I had no … I can't

 

She stepped towards him and lay her hand on his side. It didn't seem to do much to quell his anger, though the pressure on his chest released by a fraction. Enough for him to breathe.

 

Emzai: They are going to find out what you've done. What you've been hiding here. What's underneath this city. :: to Beck :: I won't die here or be taken into custody or hunted by the federation.  I won't allow that. I won't allow you to ruin his reputation.

 

Kipal: My work …

 

Beck: ::gritting his teeth:: Lady, I couldn't give two farts about what you two have been doing here - that's not my job. All I want to do is help you guys survive. Is that too much to ask? Help me help you, help me help you, help me help–

 

That's what he would have said, anyway, if Kipal hadn't suddenly pulled his shoulders from the wall and lifted him bodily before throwing him higher than he'd been before. He got as far as 'Lady-' before being swept off his feet, and the rest of his train of thought was lost in a wooph once his back hit the wall again and the air was knocked from his lungs. The tricorder hit the floor but remained open and still scanning.

 

He didn't witness the fight, as he was too busy collapsed in a heap on the floor trying to catch his breath. He heard the sound of Kipal and Emzai struggling, heard Drisila's footfalls as she moved to pull Kipal off Emzai. Quentin looked up just in time to see them wrestle to the opposite wall and cheered her on while she took a swing at the Vulcan.

 

Reaching into his pocket to retrieve the hypospray, he leaned his other arm against the wall so he could stand only to have the (thankfully smaller and weaker) Administrator come at him like a bat out of hell and give him a full-on slap across the face.

 

Quentin's jaw tightened and he raised a hand to snag her wrist before she could slap him again. He'd hoped to have time to load the sedative into the hypo, but her hysterics were proving to be a rather stubborn distraction.

 

Emzai: :: tears of rage :: You couldn't just leave us alone! I could've fixed it! I would have made it better, don't you see!

 

The tension ebbed from her shoulders and she dropped to her knees at his feet. Quentin looked over in time to watch Drisila slump to the floor in a similar manner, though with her neck twisted at an impossible angle. Kipal slowly crept away from the Klingon corpse and towards the door before bursting through it and out of view.

 

Emzai: :: panicked tears :: Kipal … don't leave me! Don't leave me alone! Not again, I can't bear it!

 

Emzai followed the Vulcan. As worried as he was about Carpenter and Kos and what Kipal might do to them, his training kicked in immediately. He palmed the hypospray and darted towards Drisila's body, snatching up the tricorder and saving everything from his scans before clearing the cache. He was not at all surprised to find it was too late. If they'd been on the Ronin and in Sickbay, maybe he could have done something for her, but…

 

Beck: ::sighing:: Sorry about the resting lIch-face thing.

 

He suddenly felt very stupid when it came to the death rituals of other cultures. He knew there was supposed to be some kind of special ritual for Klingons, but he had no idea how to perform it. He studied her open eyes intently, which looked… shocked, if accepting. Then he closed them and muttered something under his breath about her having gone with honor.

 

Unsure what to do next, Quentin glanced at the open door to the room when he heard his name, then back at the chair and torn bindings on the floor. There were green stains on the rope, on the floor, on the bedding - Vulcan blood, from the looks of it. Loading up the scans he'd been taking of Kipal, he adjusted a few settings and scanned the different marks. There were varying levels of maleconite poisoning, from what he could see, and that kind of build-up in his blood meant Kipal had been hallucinating for… who the hell knew how long?

 

Shaking his head, he closed the tricorder and tucked it back into his pocket before moving to the side of the bed. Now that there was a little more light, he could see a container of some kind stashed underneath the bedframe. Dropping down to one knee, he pulled it out and fiddled with the lock for a moment before smashing the end of the hypo against it to snap it open. Inside were half a dozen full vials of what looked like refined maleconite and another half dozen that were empty.

 

Scowling, he looked up at the door with annoyance before closing the box and tucking it under his arm. There was more going on here than he could have ever imagined. He'd just started for the door again when he heard a sudden crash of glass shattering. Sighing, he loaded up the strongest sedative he could manage with the hypo and darted forward to the door, spotting Carpenter off to one side with… a Romulan holding a sword at her back? What the…?

 

Emzai: :: insane :: Let us go to Kipal's lab.

 

Emzai was halfway between him and Kipal, who was again halfway between him and the XO, who had suddenly arrived out of nowhere looking like something out of a Rambo movie. The Vulcan darted forward to attack Raga with a speed that startled Quentin even now. He grimaced.

 

Raga: By the Branch! What's wrong with him?

 

Beck: He's got maleconite poisoning, for one thing! And he packs a mean punch!

 

Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

 

The Vulcan pressed forward again as Raga tried to lock hands with him, a contest of strength and will that Quentin could never have accomplished himself. He shook his head and grimaced again. 

 

Raga: We…don’t have time for this! You need..to evacuate!

 

Beck: Sir, I don't mean to undermine you, but I do think we need to see Kipal's lab if that's where he was headed. I think it'll give us the answers Miss Mary Quite Contrary here isn't willing to discuss. I'd say just let him go and I can follow if you guys want to evacuate these idiots.

 

Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

 

Beck: ::shrugging off his coat and wrapping up the PADD, tricorder, and box of refined maleconite:: Take this - it's got everything I could find on maleconite, how it's used, and all of the scans I could get of Kirsty and our Vulcan friend. And don't argue with me on this one, sir, we're gonna need a medical officer down here to make sense of any of this crap. ::nodding at Kirsty:: I'd take her with me, though. And a fresh tricorder.

 

Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

 

Ensign Quentin Beck

Medical Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

A238810SA0

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