Crossed Signals

Posted on 18 Dec 2023 @ 8:16pm by Aiden Dhow
Edited on on 18 Dec 2023 @ 11:42pm

Mission: M4 - Falling Out
Location: Approaching Obsidian III - Kalara City
Timeline: MD 04 - Evening
951 words - 1.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Previous:

Ever the eager tourist, Oly turned and nearly choked as he caught the profile. Though years were stripped aside, the bones were there in the angle of the jaw and shape of the eye. He couldn’t tell the color, but it didn’t matter. “Ah … and you said he’s been planetside this past week? Does he usually inform you if he’s coming to the station, or does he send his work on its own?”

Sylvie looked uncertain about this question. Not as to the answer as much as the purpose of Mr. Oly wishing to know the whereabouts of the artist. She blinked a little rapidly. “Forgive me? Do you mean to inquire concerning his whereabouts so as to… make arrangements to acquire his signature on the work?”

Oly caught her expression and smoothed his own. “Signature; I was just … you’d mentioned you hadn’t heard from him in a week, so I was just wondering if it would even be possible to have signatures to the pieces before I had to leave the station. This was only supposed to be a short-term assignment, after all.”

“I’m afraid I’m currently neither apprised of Mr. Dhow’s present whereabouts nor his future plans.”


Continued:



=^= Van Der Laar, what the hell do you think you’re doing? =^=

Oly peered at the screen as his supervisor’s face came across the screen. “Captain?”

=^= I sent you out to Obsidian Command on an assignment, so why do I have Harshman contacting me to complain about you shirking your duties and wandering around the station? =^=

He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, brow furrowed as he turned to directly address the image glowering at him across the connection. “I’m sorry, sir. If I remember right, my assignment was to track down evidence of one Winston Sawyl and - if possible - bring him to justice. Admiral Harshman was simply a means of transportation to reach my destination without question.” Oly’d known there was some connection between the Commander and the Diplomat, but he seriously doubted the man would disregard orders over ruffled diplomatic feathers.

=^= I know exactly why I sent you, and I will thank you for not speaking back to your superior. I promised your services to Harshman; if you value your position within the fleet, I advise you take that to heart and get your ass back to the Diplomatic suite. If you’re lucky she’ll actually let you show your face in public with the rest, since that’s likely the only chance you have of finding Sawyl at this point. =^=

Oly exhaled, leaning back in his seat. “Well, sir, that will not be a possibility any time soon; I’m currently headed to the planet to do a bit of reconnaissance on that lead I sent you. It may be thin, but it is the strongest possible link we have to Sawyl at this moment. It would be criminal to pass this up.”

=^= Negative, I’ve already got a man on the planet and do not need you fouling things up. If Sawyl is there, he will be found and eliminated. Now get back to the station, report to Harshmann, and quit making a nuisance of yourself. Sharpton out. =^=

He couldn’t be serious; as Oly stared at the blank screen, his mind playing over the brusque exchange, he mentally cycled through all aspects of his assignment. Travel to the station incognito, investigate any possible sighting of Sawyl and - if possible - locate the man and bring him in for questioning. Not once had there been an order of elimination, save for extreme circumstances; the man knew too much - had too many contacts within the syndicate to waste in such a callous manner - so what had changed? Pulling out his personal padd, Oly scrolled through his itinerary that he’d kept meticulously since beginning this mission.

On a whim, he pulled up the official itinerary which initially had mirrored much of his own. Now, though, it was overlaid with Diplomatic duties, attendance required for formal engagement, discussions with Korinn parties. While he could have suspected this was a cover, Oly had been battling a continued suspicion that he was missing some aspect of the assignment. The attaché position had been too seamless, ready-made and with little ruffling of any feathers. Harshman and her second in command seldom seemed to notice he was even there, so he highly doubted they were bemoaning his absence. Unless Sharpton had one - or both - of them specifically keeping an eye on his location, there was no reason for them to be protesting his absence. Moreover, his initial report about paying a visit to the gallery had been met with approval from the home office; the owner had been directly connected to Sawyl in his last known location. She was an ideal point of reference, and Oly felt if he made it back around after a check on the planet, he could possibly turn up some information with her if Loki III proved fruitless. Now, he found himself wondering if Ms. Hardt wasn’t in danger herself. He briefly debated sending her a message, but held back - not wanting to wish trouble where it hadn’t arisen yet.

A shift in trajectory indicated that the shuttle was entering the atmosphere; an announcement indicated that arrival to Kalara City Port was minutes away. Oly secured his devices and set about making himself ready for the task ahead. He’d worry about Sharpton’s plans when he got back to the station, but for now he had an investigation to conduct.