A Revelation

Posted on Mon May 11th, 2015 @ 2:17am by Commander Angelica Fairchild & Miril Sa'Vvn

Mission: The New Sydney Fiasco
Location: Mess Hall

It had only been a matter of finding time to confront T'Pel once Enalia had told her that the Vulcan chef was a Section 31 spy. Angel hadn't told anyone else - not even Sinek - who the spy was. She'd wanted to tell him, but she'd thought it better to keep him out of harm's way if things should go badly during the confrontation. It was more important to keep him safe, so she went to the mess hall alone. T'Pel was easy to find, ensconced in her little kitchen where she prepared the day's meals. Angel watched her quietly for a few moments, waiting for the other woman to notice her.

Which didn't take long, as T'pel wiped down the counters. "Commander, I'm sorry but I just closed the kitchens three minutes ago. I do have some prepared dishes I can reheat for you, if you'd like."

"That's all right." Under the pretense of being hungry, Angel picked up an apple out of a nearby bowl. "I'm eating with Sinek later anyway. I just wanted to know if you'd noticed anything unusual lately."

"Unusual? Commander, I see things I consider unusual all the time in here. Could you please be more specific?" T'pel requested in a rather annoying Vulcan tone.

"People who seem like they might have an ulterior motive, Petty Officer," Angel clarified in an equally bland tone, trying not to let T'Pel's intentional 'Vulcan-ness' get to her.

T'pel raised an eyebrow innocently. "Commander, this ship falls under Starfleet Intelligence. I assume that most people aboard have an ulterior motive. The least of which is Crewman O'Neil's apparent love of redbat stew."

"Stupid decision on his part. Landed him in sickbay with an anaphylactic reaction... which reminds me. No more redbat stew... and nothing with the same spices in it either. Too many allergies." As much as she adored Sinek, Angel found T'Pel to be absolutely infuriating. "I'm not talking about Starfleet Intelligence," she continued quietly, taking a bite out of her apple.

Continuing to wipe the counters down, T'pel thought a moment. "I have heard of a couple unscrupulous looking civilians. A Nexu and a Yulani, if I heard people right."

"Nexi and Larani," Angel immediately corrected her. "And I don't mean them. They've been cleared." Angel didn't know how long she could keep playing this game before she gave in to the temptation to bash T'Pel's head in. "Okay then. How about you answer this question for me... when's the last time you spoke to Drake?"

That put a crack in T'pel's Vulcan demeanor. The mention of Drake made her pause just a moment and she tried passing that off as thinking. "I am unaware of anyone aboard the Hera named Drake," she said, which was technically not a lie. She just didn't want to reveal that she did in fact know a Drake. It was looking more and more like Angel knew some of her secrets though, so it would be difficult to hide them.

"Oh, he's not on the Hera, T'Pel. He was on that Borg probe you sent a message to while you were off the ship. You know, when you left with Beaumont." Angel gazed at her levelly, as if daring T'Pel to lie to her.

T'pel stared at Angel for several seconds, a burning rage showing in her eyes for a moment. "I suppose I didn't clean the shuttle's logs well enough."

"Well you didn't know who you were dealing with either," Angel said mildly, taking note of that moment of rage but not acting any differently.

"And who is it that I'm dealing with, my dear Commander Fairchild," T'pel asked in a much more haughty tone as she leaned in to look Angel square in the eyes.

"Someone who cares very much about what happens to this crew and happens to be very good at dealing with threats," Angel countered evenly, unfazed by T'Pel's apparent aggression. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing that should have affected this crew." T'pel shot back. "At least according to him."

"Nothing that would affect the crew? Have you seen where the hell we are? Where we went? How does that not affect the crew, T'Pel?" Angel shook her head slightly, not quite able to believe that sort of nonsense.

"I don't know!" T'pel exclaimed, clearly upset, and with an attempt to slam her rag into the countertop. "What was I supposed to do? I gave him the Hera's transponder and location and that was it. No more than we had on the shuttle."

"Gee, I don't know. Tell him 'no'? The same way I did?" Angel ignored T'Pel's outburst. She already suspected that T'Pel wasn't really a Vulcan.

"If you know so much, you probably already know I don't have that luxury." T'pel replied back frustratedly.

"You have the same luxury of saying no that everyone else does," Angel responded firmly, not buying into it.

"He knows too much about me. I don't have any luxury. I'm just glad I'm a simple chef. Not much to blackmail." T'pel responded, starting to calm down. "So why are you here then? Going to arrest me as a spy?"

"T'Pel, they're an information gathering office. They can't do shit to you if you tell them no." Angel rolled her eyes. How could a Vulcan be so freaking dense? Unless she wasn't a Vulcan. "And it's not me arresting you that you have to worry about."

A look of fear crossed T'pel's features. If Starfleet wasn't going to arrest her... "The Tal Shiar aren't going to arrest me, are they?"

"Why would--" Taken somewhat aback, Angel took a step backward, as if she expected a hidden weapon to appear. "You're... not Vulcan then?"

T'pel was also stunned. She thought Angel knew. "No... I was a Tal Shiar double agent. when they started capturing the contacts I had, I knew I was next so I called in the last of my favors to get genetic resequencing and cross over to the Federation. Drake helped me out but then demanded favors. Favors I had to pay or he'd uncover me just like I just did."

Angel blinked at her. "T'Pel... does Enalia know any of this?"

"I don't know... I don't think so. I was told that she'd just be told that I was a former Intel informant with ties to your defunct Section 31." T'pel said, slumping slightly. It was over for her. She'd go to some prison and either disappear or end up as an experiment.

Damn. Angel sighed a bit. "All right. You're still part of this crew, even if I'm pissed at you. So I'm not turning you over to anyone... but we are going to talk to Enalia. Together. You want out of the Drake's claws... and you can't go back to the Empire. We'll find a solution."

"A solution that doesn't leave me dead would be preferable. I don't deserve it but that's all I want." T'pel said, almost to the point of shaking. "And please don't tell Aewia. She was one of my contacts."

"I won't tell her. She wouldn't believe me anyway... she's a bit... well, you know. Loony." Angel grinned a bit. "I'm not going to let anyone kill you. Relax."

"Loony... She's one of the lucky ones then..." T'pel said wearily, resuming her cleaning of the kitchen counters.

"Yeah, maybe." Angel wasn't sure about that, but at least Aewia didn't have to deal with her personal demons. "I can keep Drake and the Tal Shiar both off your back. You just tell me when you're ready to talk to Enalia."

T'pel nodded, tossing the rag in the recycler. "The sooner the better."

"All right, end of your shift then. I'll meet you on the bridge." That would give Angel some time to figure out what the hell she was even going to say to Enalia about this.

T'pel headed out around the counters and readied herself. "Dinner just ended and I'm finished cleaning up. I'm done until 0400 for breakfast. I'm sure I'll have several dozen omelettes to make as usual. You'd be surprised how many people aboard have issues digesting replicated food..."

Angel snorted at that. "It's an excuse to not eat the replicated stuff. The replicator makes perfectly edible food... but I'll admit real food is better." With T'Pel ready to talk to Enalia now, Angel had no idea how they were going to manage that.