4/7/99

A text message shows up. Perhaps Tarrant is afraid to disturb. "I think I'm at least a reasonable facsimile of human again. Sorry about that."

You say "Van'chela!" Boy, she sounds relieved. "There is no need to apologize. How do you feel? Do you need anything?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and blares "I feel as if I have been sat upon by a particularly large wild animal carrying a piano on its back. But it is better than I deserve for my foolishness. I am in need of nothing that I can think of, although I would really rather pass along this information. If there were some kind of accident, and it didn't get passed on first..." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "*long pause* Of course. Shall I come down there? You should not be out and about, after all. And have you eaten?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and blares "I can come up there if you'd rather. Certainly my place can't be comfortable for you. Not eaten yet, no. I snagged a shower and then did some deep down serious investigation of the back of my eyelids. A fascinating topic." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "Tarrant, I have lived in places much less comfortable than your quarters. I can most certainly manage them for a short time so we can talk." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and announces "If you like, I don't object to either of them." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "I will be down in perhaps ten minutes, if that suits?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and announces "Certainly, certainly. I have no desire to dash elsewhere at the moment certainly." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "*quiet chuckle* That suits, as you should not be dashing anywhere for a while yet." into the communit.

You leave the room, pulling the door shut behind you.

[Travelspam deleted.]

You knock on a door.

Tarrant calls, "Come in, unless you're going to discuss salvation."

You unlock the door and go into room F10.

Room F10

This room is plain, yet efficient. But there all similarity between it and its brethren ceases. It may have at one time done double duty as a storage area, as the walls are lined with shelves. At the moment, the bulk of them are empty, although some hold low boxes, and others neatly folded clothes. A small door leads into the refresher unit in one corner. The rest of that wall is taken up with a long low work area. Various gadgets and pieces of machinery are scattered across it. The bed is a wall unit which may be tucked away for storage. A low coffee table hunkers down next to a tiredly sagging couch in the middle of the room. The walls are mostly decorated with maps where they are not hung with shelves. A single framed print however dominates the far wall, a sepia toned picture of Ford's Theater.

Contents:

Tarrant

Obvious exits:

Out

You come in from the Housing Hub.

Tarrant has tucked the half-broken bed away, and is seated on one end of the couch, casted foot resting on the coffee table. He looks perhaps a bit sheepish, "Pardon me for not answering the door properly. Getting up seemed better left til another time."

Corian looks just a bit amused as she comes into the room, though still decidedly worried. And, yes, she comes bearing gifts--more of that ever-present lasagna. She can only cook one thing with any reliability, and she does it in mass quantity. Good thing she likes it. "I will try to refrain from discussing salvation, as long as you eat." She's snagged a beverage somewhere, too--whatever it is you drink, her player has forgotten.

Tarrant blinks several times, looking all the more sheepish. "You don't have to feed me, Corian, really. I'm not entirely broken." There's a pause, "Not that I'm going to -complain- mind you, not if your lasagna is involved..." Uh-oh, Jay'll be in here with a stick any minute.

Corian inquires, with a faint smile, "And what else were you planning to eat, van'chela? This will save you the trouble, and was no bother to me--I had it upstairs, just waiting to be eaten."

"I hadn't really thought about it. It's been one of those days," Tarrant says with quiet amusement, indicating the other part of the couch. "Please, have a seat, I am sorry the couch is scary."

Corian places the food where you can reach it, and settles gracefully on the indicated portion of the couch. "I am not frightened by your furniture. There is no need for you to apologize on its behalf. And if you had not thought about eating, then it is certainly a good thing that I brought food. You need to eat to heal, after all."

Corian places the food where you can reach it, and settles gracefully on the indicated portion of the couch. "I am not frightened by your furniture. There is no need for you to apologize on its behalf. And if you had not thought about eating, then it is certainly a good thing that I brought food. You need to eat to heal, after all."

Tarrant shifts forward enough to acquire the food, settling back. Supporting the plate with one arm, the other is used to actual begin eating the lasagna. Okay, life may be painful, but if there's lasagna in it, obviously Tarrant is happy. "Still amazing stuff. Time has not dimmed the memory certainly." There's a pause and he gets serious. "Sarducci, the man who shot your brothers."

Corian murmurs a quiet thankyou for the praise of her cooking, though her attention is caught by your last statement. "Yes. I am familiar with the name, though I never met the man." And there's something about her manner that suggests that it's a lucky thing for Guido. She pauses a beat, then inquires, "Was -he- the one who caused you to be injured?" And if yes is the case, Guido had best start running -now-.

Tarrant tugs back the loose collar of his shirt to show the hand shaped bruises, "Those are his fault, yeah." He lets it drop back. "The foot's my own fault. I was desperate and screwed up getting out of the leg irons." He pauses a beat, "He's Department. Or was."

Corian draws herself upright from her more relaxed posture on the couch. She is quiet for the space of about three heartbeats, then observes softly, "It seems that you have had an exciting time of it, van'chela." She considers the list of questions that suddenly makes itself known, mentally prioritizing. "How much are you able to tell me of what happened?"

Tarrant takes another bite of the lasagna. "At this point? From you, I have no real secrets. Things are twisted enough, I would that at least someone knew all this. I got an assignment, and I suspected it, but I suspect a lot these days. Still though, I wanted to know more of my enemies, so prideful, I went. It was a trap, and I was pulled up and tossed in a cell. One far less pleasant than we shared. I shared it with some rats. Very cheerful fellows. Sarducci was the one who brought me in. I overheard as I was imprisoned there that Sarducci seems to be the tool of someone still in the Department. He went rogue, shooting your brothers was not what he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be keeping track of certain diplomats."

Corian's silvery-blonde brows lower at the mention of your imprisonment, but she doesn't comment on it aside from a quiet murmur in Kashidian. "He is no longer in the department, but he is still working for someone who is?" She pauses a beat, then. "Last I heard, he had been imprisoned. I suppose that has changed, then."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"His extradition was under false terms," Tarrant finishes all but inhaling the lasagna, obviously they didn't feed him in prison. "Never went to prison at all, just into whoever's hands."

Corian lifts a hand to rub at her eyes with slender fingers. "Life cannot be simple," she murmurs. "But at least it is not dull." She makes a note to stock your freezer with lasagna as well, thus risking Jay's wrath. You're not a suitor, after all, so you're safe from his stick. "How did he ever manage to catch you, van'chela?" High opinion of your abilities? You betcha.

Tarrant is safe from Jay. He doesn't have a freezer. Or even a microwave. No kitchen objects whatsoever exist in his rather pathetic excuse for a home. "By being willing to create havoc. He set off a tangler mine in a crowded street, he got about a dozen folks." He settles the plate down onto the table, taking up the iced tea.

Corian will just have to bring you food, then. Darn. Maybe Jay won't notice if the food disappears one serving at a time. Of course, she's not actually thinking of that, as she's too busy being troubled by your words. "He involved civilians, he did this to you, he injured my brothers... no, I do not believe that it would be best if I were to be around Mr. Sarducci." With a shake of her head, she inquires, "-Are- you all right, van'chela?"

"If I see him again, I will hold him down for you and loan you my spurs," Tarrant offers rather dryly. "He is not exactly my favorite person at the moment either. Civilians are -right- offlimits. There are -rules-..." He settles back, resting the drink on the couch arm and steadying it with one hand. "I'm all right. Dr. Aleron was kind and efficent."

Corian's expression goes bleak for a moment. Though she doesn't say it, there's a good chance she'd take you up on the offer of the loan of the spurs. "It does not seem like this Sarducci is one to follow the rules, though, nor is his... employer. Were you able to determine who that was, and -why- this person seems to want to be rid of you?" No, see, she's not going to say 'dead'. It's difficult enough for her to finish that question, as her voice might suggest.

Tarrant shakes his head lightly, then resting it against the back of the couch. "I have no idea. It could be someone I've offended, I've a talent for that. Or maybe I've been around too long. Or they think me a threat. If I could find a why, perhaps I could find a who. If I had a who... well, then I could seek help within the Department."

Corian nods slowly to that, expression troubled. "But as you do not have a who, you do not know who you should -not- ask, and thus cannot seek help." She rubs a thumb along the edge of her necklace, observing quietly, "This is not an easy situation, van'chela. Any help that I may give, of course, is yours. I wish there were more I could do."

"Not easy, no. I am hoping that my would be enemy will make a mistake, aside from letting me escape. They may well have. If I can ferret out who Sarducci's sponsor was..." Tarrant looks rather embarrassed, sipping his tea again, "Although I have not had a chance to do so, yet. Sleeping seemed so much nicer."

Corian offers a faint smile at that. "I believe that sleep was necessary, at that point. You need to heal, and sleep is required for that. There is time to locate Sarducci's sponsor."

"It certainly made the world make a lot more sense," Tarrant says with a wry headshake, "Which, as little sense as it makes now, is saying something." He nods, "Time indeed. Going into things too fast is what got me into this."

Corian, after a pause, leans over to rest a hand on your arm, the movement very gentle and rather tentative. "But now you know to take more care, so you will be able to keep something like this from happening again," she observes quietly. With another brief pause, she inquires, "Should I leave, then? So you can get some more sleep, and make the world make still more sense?"

Tarrant notes the hand on his arm, offering you a warm smile. Absent from said smile is the ruefulness that has tinged him the rest of the evening. He shakes his head, "I am in no hurry to chase you out. I'm wide awake now. And I feel a lot better having gotten to -tell- you about Sarducci. I was about going mad knowing."

Corian returns the smile in kind. "Now I know," she agrees quietly. "May I share this news with my brothers? It seems that this is the sort of thing that they should know, but if you think it would not be a good idea, of course, I will keep the information to myself."

Tarrant nods all but emphaticly, "No, please, do. I had figured this would be something you'd want them to know. It's hardly as if it conflicts with a mission, or even my cover. Goodness knows that's threadbare enough as it is, at least with Dr. Aleron."

Corian maybe looks just a bit guilty at that. She didn't mention your name to Clara, but neither is Clara stupid. "I do not believe she would tell anyone, though," she offers, "Except perhaps Riley, unless she thought it likely that you would cause harm to someone here." Her expression lightening somewhat into a smile, she adds, "Thank you, van'chela. I appreciate the information. Do you know where Sarducci is, perhaps?"

"Last I saw him he was on Akorsh. But then he could be anywhere by now, although I don't guess he'd be in any hurry to abandon his base." Tarrant re-settles against the couch after returning the glass to the table. "And I don't mind overmuch Dr. Aleron knowing. Certainly I am, like most agents, unaccustomed to having to live permanantly undercover. Usually there is -someplace- where people know. Here I suppose, more people know than would be assumed, but they politely ignore it. Not seeing which should not be there. The offices are on the diplomatic hall ater all."

Corian is not so foolish as to find transport to Akorsh, though she's tempted for a moment, as her expression suggests. She shakes her head, then. "It is not so bad for you, here, is it?" she inquires. "It certainly isn't as good as it was when we were all together, but you aren't having too difficult a time, are you?"

Regarding you half sideways, Tarrant shakes his head. "Oh no, it is by no means too difficult. No, I wouldn't say that at all..." Tugging his gaze back to the opposite wall he adds, "It is complicated, but it is a pleasant place for all that."

Corian settles a bit more comfortably on the couch, finally lifting her hand from your arm. "It certainly is pleasant here, yes, for all the bustle and oddness. I cannot help but miss the old days, though."

Awww, the hand went away. Tarrant will most assuredly miss it, although he does not comment. "The old days were awfully nice. It was wonderful to have people all together, and no fear. But now is not so bad as all that. I have met many pleasant people here, and you are here... It is good to have a friend."

Corian smiles warmly at that. "I am most glad to be here for you, van'chela, and to have you here as well. It is," she adds, a hint of amusement coloring her tone, "Good to have someone here who understands that I am not quite as nice as I look."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"You are in fact evil and conniving, and that is what makes you fun to be around." Tarrant says with a quiet laugh, regarding you briefly with amusement in his eyes. "Still, I'm sure you could educate the others quickly enough."

Corian shakes her head at that. "I try," she says, with a sigh of feigned sadness. "I even convinced my cousin to join me for some time with the young Sectassians, yet I am sure he is convinced only of my goodness."

Tarrant hmms thoughtfully, gingerly crossing his arms, one over the other. "Perhaps if you used that paisley dye bomb? Like Alik had?"

Corian considers that for a moment. "Perhaps that would do the trick, though I generally prefer more subtle methods. Besides, it is somewhat easier to gain dinner companions when one is believed to be nice."

Tarrant offers you an amused grin, "I'll still eat dinner with you, evil or not. I'll even cook." There's a pause, "Errm, if I can borrow your stove at least. This room lacks anything even resembling such."

Corian smiles fondly at that. "Perhaps I will allow that in a day or two, when you have had a bit of a chance to heal. I would certainly be glad of your cooking. I do enjoy my lasagna, but variety is nice, as well."

Tarrant nods to that, casting a chagrined look at the casted ankle. "Yeah, and besides, you're about the only person I know who'll eat certain veggies. An excuse to cook em' n'all."

Corian glances to the ankle as well, with a fractional shake of her head. "I honestly do not know how you do it," she observes quietly. No, she's not talking about the veggies.

Tarrant seems a bit confused by that, glancing to you, "How I do what?"

Corian shakes her head. "Never mind, van'chela," she says, with a smile. "It is late. I should go, to let you sleep and gain some of my own."

Tarrant sighs with a quietly rueful chuckle. "Cryptic comment and then leaving...Or perhaps it wasn't cryptic, I may be in clueless mode." He nods, looking rather saddened however. "A pleasant night to you, my friend. Thanks for the help, and for the lasagna. I appreciate everything."

Corian shakes her head as she gets to her feet. She moves towards the exit, but pauses in front of you, one hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Van'chela, it was not cryptic. I am tired, and not quite making sense, that is all. And I am glad to be of help. If there is anything that you need--at any time--you will comm me, yes?"

Tarrant brings his hand up briefly to cover your own, nodding. "I will, yes, and I thank you for that as well. I think it singularly unlikely I will be in need of aid anytime soon however, I intend to get some more sleep."

Corian offers you a fond smile as she starts towards the door once more, collecting her plate as she does so. "Dream sweetly, Tarrant. And do not forget that I am here for you." She regards you for a moment, then slips out the door.

You leave the room, pulling the door shut behind you.


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