Randolph Lalonde - Frontline

It was hours later and just as always he had snuck off at four in the morning from her bed to venture back to his own quarters just down the hall. He might have a bit of hell on his hands for that later depending on her mood but he was having a restless night himself. This time he could tell her he left for his own quarters so he didn't keep her awake. She still might not believe him, again, depending on her mood, but even if she wanted to have yet another serious talk about it, she was worth it, of that he was absolutely certain.

“Lucky man, I am,” he muttered to himself as he stretched out on the futon. There was a perfectly good bed just in the next room but it was too big to sleep in alone. “Feels like a great big soft floor, that does.”

His command and control unit vibrated mildly and he looked down at it absently. Price was leaving him a message. “Couldn't be more awake,” he grumbled as he accessed it for review.

Frost: I was reviewing the personnel files so I could have a clearer understanding of the maintenance crew when I came across someone who has exactly the same DNA as you do. His file looks like an altered copy. I've also sent a notice to Stephanie. My duty report to Alice and the Captain will mention it as well. I suggest you come to the main security office so your identification can be re-coded before the beginning of your shift.

“I think I'll perform my own little investigation first.” He called up the ship security holodisplay and punched in his identification code. As he expected there were two illuminated paths indicating where on the ship he and his imposter had been throughout the last day. One path led from his quarters to the security office, then the gunnery deck, there was a swirl indicating he had spent his day moving around that space. His night had led him to Stephanie's quarters, the lower observation bay for a couple hours then back up to her quarters.

The other, blue line was telling a different story. It started in the aft berth with the engineering crew and led to the engineering main office for a morning briefing, then into various sections of the ship where there were short reports on memory wipes and software reinstallations being performed on over a dozen cleaning and servicing robots. He'd heard that they were being stripped of any AI's and reset back down to their base programming, he just wasn't aware of where it was being done. “Whoever's usin' my ident's a real busy body.” He muttered as he scrolled through the servicing logs from the day before. “Almost worth just leavin' him alone.”

The blue path showed a clear U shape as the person it represented moved up one side of the robot maintenance bay and down the other through the day then out, to a portside observation lounge he'd never visited. It had been remarked as the Oota Galoona. “Must be a new pub or somethin' opened up. Surprised Steph dinna want to drop in.” The blue marker indicated that whoever had copied and modified his identity was still there.

“Looks like I've got some early mornin' clubbin' ta do,” Frost said as he took to his feet and grabbed his gun belt. He was still strapping it on as he stepped out the door.

The express car let out just around the corner from Oota Galoona. Between the dimly lit hall and the name he could only assume that the observation lounge had been renamed by an issyrian. Frost took his time, resting his palm on the pommel of his sidearm, surveying the hall as he came around the corner.

Things had quieted down, the observation lounges, quickly becoming clubs and old fashioned bars despite intoxicant rationing, were always quietest the hour or two before the end of a shift. The graveyard watch would be ending in less than two hours and he couldn't imagine why the impostor would be there over six hours after his shift had ended or how he could keep drinking for so long with rationing in place.

Double doors with the name of the establishment lettered across the front in rainbow luminescent paint marked the entrance to the main port observation lounge. He stepped in just close enough to activate them and stepped to the right so he could see inside while peeking around the corner. It didn't help.

His eye met Burke's right away. The other man had been watching the door, sitting with his back to the transparent wall so he could see anyone coming in from the right side of the entrance.

Instead of ducking for cover or bringing up security on his communicator, Frost grinned and walked straight for Burke's small booth table. “Long time! Good ta see a familiar face!” he exclaimed jovially.

The other man's panic was so utter he was struck still, his hands griped his tall dark brown glass as his jaw fell agape and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Morning, Chief.” Frost heard someone say from a seat by the door. It was one of his early night watch crew, the only nafalli on his staff.

“Morning Hunsler,” he acknowledged over his shoulder loud enough to be heard despite the loud, obnoxiously upbeat music playing throughout the large half circular space. It was dimly lit like the hallway outside, with three tiers leading up to the bar against one of the transparent sections of hull. Whoever had taken responsibility for reopening the lounge had chosen prime space, it was as large as the main forward observation area, able to seat at least three hundred, had a couple dozen booths for privacy and one entire wall was transparent, providing a generous view of deep space and distant stars.

Each tier had booths at the end and it was the lowest of them that Burke had chosen to nurse a drink. From the looks of him it wasn't the first. “Frost! I didn't think you'd catch up with me so soon! You got my message!”

Frost sat down and waved off a civilian servant walking towards him with a tray. His hand never left his sidearm and as he settled into the booth across from Burke he pressed down on the hilt so the end pointed directly at the other man's middle. “Now what message would that be lad?”

“Using your ident code, exempting you from the rationing. I was hoping you'd notice and help me off the ship. Shamus, you've gotta help me. I'll give you my half of your accounts, anything.”

For a long moment a grin and a raised eyebrow was Frost's only response. “Yer tellin' me ye couldn't get off the ship an' you thought hackin' into ship ident an' borrowin' me was just a flare for me ta track.” He reached out, took the other man's drink, sniffed it and put it back on the table. “That's ale you're drinkin', so unless someone put somethin' in it while you weren't lookin', you're stupid at least, drunk and stupid at most.”

“I tried to get off so I could fix things up from a safe distance, ship most of your money back over wireless, but Captain's got this boat bottled up more n' the Samson, I swear. Sure, looks loose an' busy, but everything that lifts off the deck's got someone he knows by name, everything with an engine's got someone's eye on it. Tried pryin' into a fighter and that little bitch Paula calls me out with half the deck crew behind her, didn't need help with a mouth like that; she's worse than any alarm I've heard.”

Shamus laughed and shook his head. “Paula caught you goin' down to steal a fighter? That's one for the album. Surprised she didn't get you to security.”

“Didn't come to that. Can you help me?”

“Where's Silver?”

“Don't know, we split after you got taken by Nan.”

“Taken? Ye think Nan took me?” Frost deactivated the safety on his sidearm, set the disintegration charge to maximum and made sure his firing line was at least a few centimetres away from his knee.

Even over the loud music Burke heard the unmistakable high pitched whine coming from the weapon as it greedily drew power into its capacitors. “F-Frost, I-”