novovortis archive

Vannis looked at him blankly. “A database? Pray tell, where could I find such a thing? The Federation and the Dominion are not exactly on speaking terms. I imagine if I called them up asking for access to databases pertaining to their temporal agencies the response I would get would be rather rude.”

Vannis scowled for a moment, remembering Weyoun’s observations on human culture when she caught herself listing and refocused.

“Trust me, Mister Dakota–a mind probe is much faster. And if you have concerns about your privacy, please be assured that only pertinent information will be applied to the transcript. Standard operating procedure, you see. I don’t have terabytes to commit to chronicling life stories. Or having good times.”

@heartdriiven

Dakota grimaced and looked away, his heart thumping ever faster. Just his luck, this Dominion had to be on bad terms with the Federation, which he could only assume included Earth. So there was no simple, call-em-up-and-ask-em resolution. He found himself caught in a lose-lose situation.

If he were to submit to the mind probe, even if it wasn’t notarized, his memories would still be violated in every sense. Private and traumatic memories would be uncovered, and any and all Bureau secrets he knew would be revealed, and he had no guarantee they would even help him by the end of it all. On the other hand, the more physical interrogation procedure could be easier to resist… but no more pleasant. He’d be lucky if he survived, judging by the look on the soldier’s face. No, either way, he would possibly end up breaking. Either way, he had no clue if he truly would ever see Cavendish again.

But… he would try to throw a wrench in whatever plans this Dominion had, one more time. Dakota sighed and slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a quarter and setting it on the table. “Alright. Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I submit to the mind probe. Tails, you’ll have to beat whatever you want out of me. I don’t like either option, so I’m going to leave it up to chance.”

She palmed it in her hand, observing a head pressed into the metal on one side. The glint and the feel of it was appealing.

She set the coin down and stared holes into Dakota, trying to decide her course of action. She held the overwhelming balance of power in the room, and she knew it. It may just turn violent-- but his consistent story and his mannerisms suggested truth. The likelihood that he knew anything at all was low. More could be learned from releasing him and monitoring his behavior. If he was in league with someone or organizing a malicious plot, they would at least have more context to the problem than this. And if he were truly as helpless and innocent as he claimed to be, unnecessary violence would only hinder her mission.

         on the battlefield

     Even

       on the darkest night

    I will be

         your sword

                     and shield,

       Your camouflage

Open Starter

Nine sits on one of the rails in the promenade. He likes the view from here, though he has only his contact lenses to thank for its clarity.

He sips at an odd, pureed fruit concoction he obtained at the replimat, rather unimaginatively dubbed a “smoothie.” He perceived it differently than others did, perhaps–not tasting the fruit strongly, but rather enjoying the pulpiness and the coolness of the thick drink.

He was waiting on someone to show, someone to attend festivities downstairs with. There was a celebration at the temple today that spilled out into the lower levels of the promenade and all sorts of people streamed out of the woodwork to put things out for sale; spices, trinkets, flowers, various types of street food from a walk of alpha quadrant cultures. The enticing smell of deep-fried q'lava fritters hit his nose from one of his Vorta companions whiling away at a fryer below. There were performers working their craft for the enjoyment of the crowds and all sorts of colorful cultural dress that made the sea of activity beneath his feet feel like a reeling whirlwind.

Exhilarating, perhaps…but there was an edge of chaos there that he didn’t know if he could handle. With Rotan'talag training this morning, he felt a sense of trepidation of stepping foot in that wild mayhem alone. The last thing he wanted was to make a spectacle of himself.

He sucks on the straw of his drink and quietly watches.

Bajoran celebrations were a fairly common spectacle on the station, Yelgrun had heard of many being held in the time since he’d first arrived here. After the war ended, they only grew in terms of attendance. Yelgrun never really attended, though, often preferring the solitude of his quarters and his little recreation of his former village.

This time was different. Ever since the Dominion refugees had come to the station, the defect found himself coming out of his shell more and more. He had the company of fellow Vorta to look forward to, some he recognized as the ‘original’ Vorta of their destroyed homeworld, and some that had been created after the fact. The most familiar face was, of course, Weyoun.

He’d been overjoyed to have a Weyoun in his life again. The only Vorta on the station that had actually been from his village, though he did not remember. That was fine, Yelgrun was happy enough to share his company. Today was no different, as he calmly waded through the crowd to make his way to the upper railings of the promenade.

It was odd to see Weyoun without his Jem’Hadar companion at his side, but Yelgrun didn’t mind. It was rare he was able to have this kind of time with the younger Vorta. He approached slowly, before he knelt down beside Weyoun, offering a smile.

Nine turned his view back to the throng below, looking at the crowds shuffling around below his feet. His conversation takes a different tack as he worries his smooth thumbnail quietly against the plastic cup, trying to hide the lump that's formed in his throat at the thought of it.

"It's really been far too long since we've seen each other last! How have things been going for you, Yelgrun? Having a good time?"

“Most people conventionally wouldn’t have access to that sort of technology at all, much less have it crammed into a vehicle you yourself describe as junk. I think that alone speaks to some level of sophistication, don’t you think?”

Vannis decided then to drop the bombshell.

“One does not usually trip and fall 300 years into the future and 90,000 light years away, Mr. Dakota. It’s a rather spectacular and improbable accident, you have to admit. Surely you can see where my skepticism is coming from?”

Vannis studied him with a critical eye before throwing out a morsel. It would be interesting to see how he responds to it.

“I will level with you. The Federation and the Typhon Pact have been conducting temporal espionage and sabotage operations against each other. We here in the Gamma Quadrant have also found ourselves dealing with temporal tampering against us, committed by various parties. Intelligence reports indicate that some of the agents perpetrating these crimes may be from Terra or acting in Terra’s interest. Like you. How can you assure me that your bureau’s activities are not in any way sanctioned by Memory Omega?”

“Eh, give or take, considering most people from my time have flying cars and Cav and I are stuck with vintage wheels.” Dakota shrugged, he still wouldn’t exactly claim his equipment as sophisticated, considering even non-time traveling civilians tended to have better vehicles than he.

Then came the words that sent Dakota’s heart to a stuttering stop and his eyes widening in shock. He knew he’d ended up at least 300 years forward, but the distance was something else entirely. “90,000 light years?!” He repeated, his voice raising in pitch. “You– you’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking!”

It soon became clear that she wasn’t. Dakota’s smile became strained and he let out a shaky laugh. “Oh… Oh, yeah, wow, Murphy’s Law hit me with a doozy this time. This is way different from the time we got stuck in the 1870s…” Dakota rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his stomach churning with growing anxiety. His smile quickly faded and his gaze dropped to the tabletop, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He could barely process just how he’d ended up so far away himself, how could he even be expected to explain it to her?

Vannis spoke to him again, and Dakota tried to put all his focus on her. He would take whatever she told him with a grain of salt, but for now, she was his only source of information about this place and time. As she explained the situation, his brows creased and he frowned in confusion. About the only thing he really got from it was that there was a lot of temporal activity, perhaps even a sort of temporal war going on, but none of the parties involved rang any bells.

She lost her composure for a second, pressing the heels of her hands hard into her eyes to express her frustration. "Alright. Alright. I hear you. You insist that you're not involved in this mess. That you know nothing about any of it. I want to believe you. I really do. But I have be be sure beyond all possible doubt, you see. I have to know for sure. I am here on a mission from my gods. I must have answers and I must have the right ones."

“I am so pleased that you’ve chosen to cooperate, Vannis said with a dainty smile, willfully ignoring Dakota’s frustration. She succinctly directed her guards to swiftly get him under wraps on the transport to avoid further disruptions–she had been instructed by the Founders to conduct her investigation as quietly as possible and people were already beginning to take notice…

She had Dakota beamed to a holding cell and provided a ration meal before his questioning, lest she be accused of torturing the man. In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do about him. He seemed truthful when he pled his innocence–but then again, people oft said things like that of Vorta too– she herself was a purpose built liar and couldn’t discount the possibility that he was just that good. The fact that she felt like she wanted to believe him was simply further proof that she shouldn’t.

“Ah, Mister Dakota. I trust that your stay has not been too uncomfortable, thus far? I apologize for my delay–I had some affairs to conclude before returning to our business– but I hope the meal and accommodations that we have provided only prove our willingness to work with you. We don’t want to punish you. We want to help you. But first, we must understand everything,” she cajoled, making sure to gift him her sweetest, most pleading smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m afraid I will have to record this conversation. Standard security protocol, nothing nefarious or personal.”

Vannis took a seat, pulling her chair up to the table and sitting up, straight-backed, trying to gain as much intimidation factor as possible. She had him locked in her sights, studying every twitch and nuance.

“I would appreciate it if you could tell me a little more about who you work for. What is your mission? If you are truly so benign as you claim to be, how would you gain access to such sophisticated equipment as to give you the means to accidentally time travel?”

If one were to ask Dakota what the worst day he’d ever had was, he might have responded with something from the Mississippi Purchase timeline. That whole timeline was a series of nothing but the worst days ever, but this day was swiftly climbing up in the ranks. First, Murphy’s Law stranded him centuries and billions of lightyears from home. Then, he was accosted by (possibly) hostile aliens. Now, he’d been captured and was being held for interrogation. Not to mention the ration meal had been incredibly bland. It reminded him too much of the meals he used to have in the MP timeline.

Dakota, needless to say, was in a bad mood. He sat at the table, with his hands folded on the tabletop. His expression was one of clear irritation, mismatched eyes staring straight ahead behind tinted lenses. As Vannis entered the room, he locked his gaze on her, watching her every move as she took the seat across from him. He couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh at her insincere apologies and claims of wanting to help, but said nothing in response.

He had been fortunate to have been spared capture in the past. Undergoing an actual interrogation rather than a training session was a new experience for him. Even so, Dakota hoped he would get through this. He resolved once again to only give them the bare minimum. He wouldn’t lie, per se… but he would purposely omit information that he deemed too sensitive. No matter how he felt about Mr. Block personally, he would never betray the Bureau.

Dakota’s eyes met Vannis’ in a hard stare, and he spoke, “My name is Vincent Dakota. I’m a third-class agent of the Bureau of Time Travel. Our mission is to preserve Earth’s, and only Earth’s, timeline, against those who would try to tamper with it.” His gaze became rather pointed, before he shrugged and began to lean back in his seat. Dakota’s attitude went from serious to casual in almost an instant. “That, and try to protect certain species from extinction. Say, for example, the pistachio nut. Boss liked ‘em when he was a kid before they went extinct, so that’s where we were assigned. Until we mucked up too many times and were then demoted to cleaning outhouses in the Renaissance.”

“I dunno how much you know about Earth’s history, but y’know, they only ever tell you about the paintings and the art that came from that time period. They never tell you about the stench. And– Wait a second.” Dakota barely held back laughter as he spoke again, “You seriously called the ol’ lemon sophisticated? Lady, my time vehicle’s the bottom of the barrel. My partner and I are the lowest ranked agents in the entire Bureau. I was lucky that I ended up here in the Grataloup rather than the tandem! It breaks down all the time, it was only a matter of time before I ended up in this kind of situation.”

Vannis decided then to drop the bombshell.

"One does not usually trip and fall 300 years into the future and 90,000 light years away, Mr. Dakota. It's a rather spectacular and improbable accident, you have to admit. Surely you can see where my skepticism is coming from?"

Vannis studied him with a critical eye before throwing out a morsel. It would be interesting to see how he responds to it.

“Perhaps I would be inclined to take that as an excuse…if you weren’t across the galaxy from Earth and appearing here, of all places in the wake of temporal sabotage! Mister Dakota, do you take me for an idiot?” Vannis was sort of taken aback by his prickly defensiveness–she’d expected him to fold and she would be lying if it didn’t also please her a little–she enjoyed a challenge.

It was obvious that this man was not a Federation Temporal Agent, which explained the indignation. But if what this man said was, in fact, true…then the fact that he had accidentally wound up traversing time and space in a shabby earthling motor carriage was doubly frightening. No, he had to come into custody. This man was capable of doing more damage than he realized.

“Look, Mister Dakota. I do appreciate your candor. Most aren’t brave enough to admit that they know nothing and suffer for it. You chose to tell me willingly, which I respect,” Vannis said, subtly motioning for her retinue to take him into custody, even as she tried to ply him with a smile. “You’re lying to me, of course. I’m well aware of that. You absolutely know more than you’re willing to tell. I’m going to find it out if I have to pull it out of you…but I appreciate your effort all the same. Please, join me for the afternoon at the complex. I think we’ll have much to discuss. Who knows–I may treat you to a meal myself if everything goes well.”

“An idi–No! What, you expect me to know what kind of political atmosphere is going on in this time? This is at least two-hundred years after my time, give or take fifty! I don’t even know where here is, aside from the fact I’m on an alien planet!” Dakota flailed his arms again, distress breaking through his irritation. “Haven’t you ever heard of Murphy’s Law? Whatever can go wrong, will? Take that to its logical extreme, and you’ll see what I had to deal with!”

Dakota’s entire form froze up as Vannis’ men drew closer, the look in his eyes shifting from irate distress to something else. Something darker. He clenched his fists and tensed up, taking in deep breaths. Calm, Dakota, calm down. He had to remain calm, not let fear and memories cloud his judgement. He opened his eyes and half-glared at Vannis, frowning as she once again accused him of lying.

“You just don’t get it, do you? I’m a glorified time janitor, I have literally no reason to lie to you! How many times do I have to say it before it sticks? I didn’t want to come here, Murphy’s Law happened, so now I’m stranded, hungry, and all my gear is back at the apartment with my partner, in the 21st century!” Dakota found himself breathless after that final shout, panting to recover which gave the Jem’Hadar the chance to grab him. Dakota’s eyes darted between his captors and Vannis, his hopes for survival and escape quickly dwindling. The longer he was stuck dealing with these stubborn aliens, the less likely it became that he would ever see Cavendish again. It was becoming clear to him that even if he recounted the entire event that led to his stranding, from the minute he placed the order for takeout to the crash-landing in the street, in utmost detail, even then this Vannis wouldn’t believe him.

She had Dakota beamed to a holding cell and provided a ration meal before his questioning, lest she be accused of torturing the man. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure what to do about him. He seemed truthful when he pled his innocence--but then again, people oft said things like that of Vorta too-- she herself was a purpose built liar and couldn't discount the possibility that he was just that good. The fact that she felt like she wanted to believe him was simply further proof that she shouldn't.

"Ah, Mister Dakota. I trust that your stay has not been too uncomfortable, thus far? I apologize for my delay--I had some affairs to conclude before returning to our business-- but I hope the meal and accommodations that we have provided only prove our willingness to work with you. We don't want to punish you. We want to help you. But first, we must understand everything," she cajoled, making sure to gift him her sweetest, most pleading smile. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm afraid I will have to record this conversation. Standard security protocol, nothing nefarious or personal."

Vannis took a seat, pulling her chair up to the table and sitting up, straight-backed, trying to gain as much intimidation factor as possible. She had him locked in her sights, studying every twitch and nuance.

…what.

What??

Vannis stood there a little dumbfounded. She was still trying to make sense of the man’s story. A child? Birds? Dinner? That was his explanation for suddenly traveling through time to end up here?

Vannis grit her teeth with displeasure. He must think that she was stupid, if he expected her to take such a ridiculous tale at face value.

“Look, Mister Vinnie Dakota. You can’t possibly think I can accept this far-fetched story. You’re telling me that, through a series of what sounds like absolutely insane circumstances, you accidentally traveled through time to end up here. And that you are unable to find a way on your own to get back…”

Vannis frowned as she motioned for the Jem'Hadar to close the perimeter a little bit, not enough to engage with the unknown man, but enough to make him sweat a little. A small show of force to foster better cooperation.

“Mister Dakota, I’m sure it’s obvious by now that I have have some…doubts concerning the veracity of your story. A lot of dangerous temporal activity has been occurring in this area as of late and at its epicenter, we find you. I don’t think that’s chance, especially since you’ve giveb me no legitimate reason yet for being here. I have some questions for you that I expect you to answer. Cut the– bull shit, I believe the euphemism goes? Come with us, cooperate, and we will help you be on your way. Don’t bother considering other options. This is the only one that I’m giving you.”

@heartdriiven

For a moment, irritation flickered in Dakota’s eyes. Of course she wouldn’t believe him. It reminded him of trying to convince Mr. Block about the Pistachions, another particularly aggravating conversation. There was nothing more frustrating than not being believed. He folded his arms and frowned, retorting, “Look, it’s not my fault I got caught up in Murphy’s Law– you think I wanted to end up here? Trust me, If I could go back, I would have already. My takeout is probably getting cold!”

He could see a few figures closing in on the perimeter and his form tensed up. Once again, old alarms were dusted off and activated in his mind. Instincts he had tried to bury when the timeline changed. His arms unfolded and his hands fell to his sides, fingers twitching uneasily.

Dakota’s stance changed as he regarded Vannis again, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t like this situation at all. Everything around him was setting off his danger alarms, and Vannis most of all. She was incredibly dangerous. Especially if he couldn’t convince her of the truth. “Doubt me all you want, you’re not gonna get a different story. Maybe you should consider the reason I’ve given you no legitimate reason–” As he used air quotes around the phrase. “–is because there is none. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m supposed to be on Earth, picking up Thai food!” Dakota gestured toward the sky in frustration, hoping he was pointing in at least the general direction of Earth.

His stomach growled as though to corroborate his claims, and Dakota’s shoulders slumped. He was still alert despite appearances, however. As far as he could see, Vannis’ claim was right: there was no way out. If only he’d brought the quantum localizer with him. He took in a deep breath and grit his teeth, reluctantly meeting Vannis’ gaze.

It was obvious that this man was not a Federation Temporal Agent, which explained the indignation. But if what this man said was, in fact, true...then the fact that he had accidentally wound up traversing time and space in a shabby earthling motor carriage was doubly frightening. No, he had to come into custody. This man was capable of doing more damage than he realized.

The man the stall owner had described had to be around here somewhere. Her Jem'Hadar retinue had all avenues of exit from the bazaar covered and the man’s apparent red-and-yellow attire and colored eyewear should be easy enough to spot, even in the dusty air of the open market.

There was activity on the comms that drew her ear as she scanned through stalls of spices and consumables. Her Fourth had spotted someone matching that description near a restaurant close to the odd vehicle. Quiety organizing her remaining guard to control traffic and vent others away from the area, Vannis immediately moved to intercept.

As she caught sight of him and moved to approach, she put on her best negotiation face. He seemed a little frustrated. A little bewildered. A little pliable, perhaps?

“Excuse me. I am Vannis, an agent of the Dominion. I wouldn’t make a move to run–you’re surrounded. Cooperate with our investigation and both of us will be on our way shortly. Fight or try to lie and this will become more difficult than it needs to be. Who are you? What business do you have here?”

@heartdriiven

Of course, his bad luck just had to keep holding. Dakota shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around, keeping up a relaxed appearance despite being on guard. The area around him was beginning to clear out, and that filled him with a feeling of foreboding. After all, why would a busy street suddenly begin to go empty? Someone approached him and Dakota went still, trying to remain aloof. He risked a glance out of the corner of his eye, and internally grimaced.

An alien had approached, and she looked official. Like she meant business. When she addressed him, he knew the jig was up. Dakota turned his attention to her, his expression as calm as he could manage. The Dominion, eh? That had to be some kind of faction in the future. She soon followed up with veiled threats that raised all kinds of internal alarms. Alarms that hadn’t gone off in years. Not since the Mississippi Purchase mission. Outwardly, Dakota’s expression didn’t change, but the look in his eyes grew a little colder.

“Uh– Yeah, uh…” He pushed away from the wall to stand straighter, stand firm and make eye contact. He took his hands out of his pockets, using them to gesture as he spoke. “You said Vannis, right? Maybe you can help me out here.” He held out a hand in introduction, keeping a wary gaze on the alien. “Vinnie Dakota, nice to meet you. So, I had a bit of an accident with my time machine. I was going to get some Thai food and there was this Murphy kid. And– and then the woodpeckers– a flock of ducks, and the next thing I knew I was hurtling through the time stream and landed here!” At least he was honest. If she didn’t believe him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t, he had a backup plan.

What??

Vannis stood there a little dumbfounded. She was still trying to make sense of the man's story. A child? Birds? Dinner? That was his explanation for suddenly traveling through time to end up here?

Vannis grit her teeth with displeasure. He must think that she was stupid, if he expected her to take such a ridiculous tale at face value.

"Look, Mister Vinnie Dakota. You can't possibly think I can accept this far-fetched story. You're telling me that, through a series of what sounds like absolutely insane circumstances, you accidentally traveled through time to end up here. And that you are unable to find a way on your own to get back..."

Vannis frowned as she motioned for the Jem'Hadar to close the perimeter a little bit, not enough to engage with the unknown man, but enough to make him sweat a little. A small show of force to foster better cooperation.

"Mister Dakota, I'm sure it's obvious by now that I have have some...doubts concerning the veracity of your story. A lot of dangerous temporal activity has been occurring in this area as of late and at its epicenter, we find you. I don't think that's chance, especially since you've giveb me no legitimate reason yet for being here. I have some questions for you that I expect you to answer. Cut the-- bull shit, I believe the euphemism goes? Come with us, cooperate, and we will help you be on your way. Don't bother considering other options. This is the only one that I'm giving you."

Out of Time

Vannis was combing through the stalls of the bazaar at the free port of Ee, investigating reports of some anomalous events that had been occurring in the region of late. New sensor arrays had detected surges in chroniton radiation as of late, a report that seemed to be corroborated by witness reports of temporal anomalies and pervasive glitching of computer systems in the area.

The Great Link had sent Vannis to investigate the situation immediately– not only was there a rumor that an Ascendant had been recently seen on that planet, there were stresses on their treaty with the United Federation of Planets and some voices of the link believed it possible that Memory Omega may have been tampering with spacetime in the area. Double the trouble.

The bazaar on Ee was a colorful and dizzying place, containing all manner of gizmos and widgets from all across the Quadrants. After an afternoon of combing through dirty stalls and questioning citizens, Vannis had located a curious find that she thought might be worth a closer look.

It was the chassis of some-sort of land vehicle of Earth-origin. Ancient by today’s standards, it appeared to have had wheels at one time or another. More to the point, the vehicle was positively saturated with chroniton energy- whatever was going on here, this vehicle had something to do with it, of that she was sure.

“You there,” Vannis barked, flagging down the nearest stall owner. “I need to locate any persons that may have been connected to this…vehicle… in any way. Someone must have left this here. Where did they go? Point them out to me and be rewarded by the gratitude of the Dominion.”

@heartdriiven

There was a flicker of fear in the stall owner’s eyes when they were called to by the Vorta. Their expression was confused at first when she pointed out the vehicle, but soon recognition lit up their eyes. “Ah! Yes, that strange man. He left that thing there, said he was hungry, and walked off in that direction.” The merchant gestured off to the right, towards the nearest restaurant. “He had brown hair, and red and yellow clothing, and he was wearing some sort of shading apparatus on his face, over his eyes. Tinted lenses, I couldn’t get a good look at his eyes.”

They moved their hand parallel to the ground and raised it up to approximately 5 feet and 9 inches. “He was about this tall as well. Sticks out like a sore thumb, you can’t possibly miss him.”

Vinnie Dakota was not having a good day. He had been going to pick up dinner for himself and Cavendish, only for the Murphy kid to bike past him and cause a chain of events that activated the time machine and sent him forward almost 400 years. The crash-landing knocked off the tires and from there it had been a pain to even get the old Grataloup into some sort of hiding spot. He had no clue how he was going to get back, Cavendish had the temporal communicator, and he was stranded on an alien planet with no clue where or exactly when he was. Now, he was being told that he couldn’t even get anything to eat since he didn’t have the right currency. He couldn’t even get a damn meal after the day he’s had, and that was the last straw.

There was activity on the comms that drew her ear as she scanned through stalls of spices and consumables. Her Fourth had spotted someone matching that description near a restaurant close to the odd vehicle. Quiety organizing her remaining guard to control traffic and vent others away from the area, Vannis immediately moved to intercept.

As she caught sight of him and moved to approach, she put on her best negotiation face. He seemed a little frustrated. A little bewildered. A little pliable, perhaps?

"Excuse me. I am Vannis, an agent of the Dominion. I wouldn't make a move to run--you're surrounded. Cooperate with our investigation and both of us will be on our way shortly. Fight or try to lie and this will become more difficult than it needs to be. Who are you? What business do you have here?"