Please hit the back button to return to the Index Page. Return Engagement Cont. Zlanna@aol.com Warren ran as fast as he could, but the big man in front of him was putting ground between the two of them fast. Luckily he was headed straight to Monahan's turf. Warren's breaths were coming in long deep gasps, but he managed to activate his combadge. "Monahan." "Warren? What's up? You sound like you're running a freakin marathon, man." Monahan's deep baritone carried over the security combadge. "Chasing one of them officers who thinks he's too good to go by our rules." Warren puffed. "Headin your way." "Right. Description?" "Tall, dark hair. Lean. Hard to tell in the dark and all. I don't believe it!" Warren's curse cut across the comlink. "What? You okay?" "The watering just started." Right on schedule the heavens opened up and the twice weekly San Francisco downpour began. Warren's feet smacked the wet pavement as he tramped through the puddles that were forming in every low crevice in the sidewalk. "Don't worry. We'll stop him up here for you." Monahan assured Warren. Good man, that Monahan, Warren thought. Eighteen years in the service. Almost as long as himself. "Want us to hold him for you?" "You bet." Warren shouted above the thunder. "I don't believe this guy's luck." "What?" Monahan answered. "He's getting in an air transport. Those idiots aren't supposed to be taking off in this weather. They were supposed to go off duty thirty minutes ago." Warren gestured a wild warning with his fists, but the transport driver just ignored him. He watched the craft slowly gain altitude. "Don't worry about it." Monahan's voice called out. "You get his ID Number?" "Yeah. XD132." Monahan answered. "We'll track him down. Just a minute." Warren stood in the sidewalk with water pouring over him, trickling down his uniform, down his pants legs and into his socks. The wetter he got, the better the pain prod in his hand felt. "Got it, Marshall. He's headed to the transport station. We'll stop this hot shot in his tracks. Coming over?" "Yep. I'll take ground transport and be there in fifteen minutes." Monahan laughed. "I wouldn't want to be this sucker when you get a hold of him." Warren only grunted and tapped the pain prod in his hand. *** Riker felt the soft bump as the transport gently landed on solid ground. He figured his only chance was to jump out of the transport as soon as it landed, but when he gave a tug on the door he found the driver wasn't ready for him to depart just yet. The autolock remained active. The driver stopped talking long enough to wipe a hand over his forehead. "Then I saw this figure on the screen. All the ships involved in the engagement flashed this guy's picture up on their view screens. Standing there, tall, heroic, confident. He looked like a statue he was so damned determined. First he gave the order to ram the Borg ship and then he canceled the suicide move. I thought if anyone can save us this guy could." The driver turned around slowly. His smile was gone. The twinkle in the eyes were replaced by the haunted hindsight of a battle survivor, "You, Commander Riker. You were that statue. I heard them around you. I heard the android tell you we might be able to learn from the Borg, that you should tow in their ship and I lay on that floor thinking, "No, don't do it." The man fell silent. Tears were in his eyes. He reached out and placed his artificial hand on Riker's forearm gripping it so hard Riker bit his lip from the pain. "And I watched you say, "Fire." We all watched you. You did the right thing. I always wanted a chance to tell you that. You did the right thing that day." In astonishment, Will followed the man's face as he lowered it to Will's hand, weeping openly and loudly. "You killed the bastards. You killed them for all of us." Will sat in shock. He reached out placing an arm around the driver's trembling shoulders. "It was Picard who gave us the secret for stopping the Borg." he began. The driver raised his head up, drew in his tears and answered, "But it was you who gave the order, Sir. I'll never forget lying there watching you do it." Will nodded, having learned long ago, that this need to offer up thanks was genuine and as Deanna had said, helped the person offering it. The best thing to do was simply accept it. "I'm glad you made it, Primerashioro." He didn't know if he pronounced the name correctly or not, but his attempt brought a quick return of the man's smile. It took some effort for Riker to pull himself back from the memory. When he did he realized time was running out. He had to get to transport terminal C and he had to get there soon. As if reading his mind, the driver stopped his tears in a long deep inhale. His humor returned in the space of a breath. "Commander, it seemed as though you were not anxious to meet that MP who was chasing you." "Not especially." "Wait here." Primerashioro leapt out of the transport and dashed off into the security office. In a moment he returned with an attractive, middle-aged woman. Riker realized she was a Sergeant and one look at her made Riker think he wouldn't want to get on her bad side. "Commander Riker," the transport driver said, opening the rear door. "Please meet my wife, Sergeant Hyoto." "A pleasure." Riker said, his grin wide, his charm turned up full hilt. The Sergeant returned the grin, "I understand you require an escort to Terminal C, Commander." "It might be helpful." Riker answered. "May I first ask just why a security man was chasing you?" Riker hesitated before answering, then finally admitted, "I broke curfew." *** Warren had no doubt Monahan would contact Security at the Transport Station for him and he would finally get to meet the jerk that had led him on such a merry chase. His hand rested on the pain prod again. Yes, he was looking forward to taking this guy down a peg or two. He surveyed the other passengers around him. A Captain seated across from him was staring at the pain prod. Warren discretely rested the stick on the seat next to him. No reason to have the guy get nosy and report it. Even though it was approved, it was just a trial approval and Warren wanted to make sure the trial was completed. The ground transport pulled up to the Security Office of the Transport Station and Warren got out. He was cold and wet, so when the call came in from Monahan that his quarry was talking to the Security Sergeant, a cruel grin crept over his weather worn face. They had him. It was a long ride back to the dorm, but the Starfleet officer was going to find the trip a lot chillier than Warren would, even if he was the one who was wet. Warren went straight to Sergeant Hyoto's office when he arrived at the Station. She wasn't in. "Just left about two minutes ago, Sir." a skinny ensign manning the communications computer reported. He was Bajoran. He wore one of those silly earrings. Not too many Bajorans in Security. "Can you raise her by combadge?" Warren asked. "Sure." Confidently the younger man took a seat at a communications terminal, inputted some commands and waited. Then he frowned, typed in some more commands and waited again. "What's the problem?" Warren shuffled from one foot to the other. His pants stuck to his legs and he could smell the stench of his wet socks. He ran a clammy hand through his water clogged hair, flinging the water onto the floor. "Come on, boy, what's the damn problem?" "I, I'm sorry, Sir. Just give me a minute." the ensign reached down and typed another set of commands, then placed a finger over the earclip he was wearing. Slowly he turned in the seat to face Warren. "Sorry. The Sergeant is unavailable except for code three emergencies or above. Is this a code three emergency, Sir?" If the boy had been serving in anything but Security Warren would have exploded right then, but the kid was one of his own despite the earring. It was hardly his fault that a Starfleet officer thought he was too good for Warren's rules. "No, just an AWOL resident from the dorms breaking curfew." The kid nodded, turned back to the console, typed some more then spoke something into the microphone in a voice too soft for Warren to hear. When the kid turned back he was wearing a wide, triumphant smile. "Got some info for you Sir. Jenkins at the main Security Station says she just saw the Sergeant interrogating your Starfleet officer in the main freight terminal." "Wonder if it is the same one?" Warren said out loud, not expecting an answer. "Jenkins says it matches the description Monahan sent in." Teeth clenched, Warren nodded. "Thanks, kid. I owe you one." "All part of the service, Sir." Warren smiled. Good kid. Knew the routine. He always had heard Bajorans were handy in a pinch. Good at intelligence gathering. Running in a slow jog, Warren headed toward Terminal C. *** To be continued...