SIM:Nicholotti (Cody) The Spy Who Went Out Into The Cold

((Office of the Director of Intelligence, Black Tower, Section Alpha, Level 3, StarBase 118 Ops))

:: It was past zero hundred hours. An old man by anyone's reckoning sat behind a spartan, transparent desk and used an ancient earth tool to mark the distance of parsecs on a map of space sprawled over the surface. His hair was long since gone to an iron gray, cut close to the scalp, that matched a pair of wide, gray eyes and a shaven face of wrinkled skin borne from a different set of environments than the one he sat parked at. ::

:: The doors to the Director's office slid open. He smelled her perfume, as well as her pheromones, but didn't look up. Instead, he moved the sextan on its axis, marking another position, before scribbling the coordinates down a small piece of paper. If he didn't scream Terran before, he did now. But some things, by his reckoning, were done right long before the technology came around, and Jospeh Terrill would be damned if he gave up how *he* liked to get things done. ::

:: Sometimes the tried and true worked better than the new inventive. ::

Terrill: ::not looking up from the map:: You're late. And alone.

:: Lieutenant Arielle stepped in, dressed back in the black of Starfleet but also baring a streak of gold in the black collar, marking her as one of Intelligence's Security staff. And usually a damn good one, by Terrill's recollection. His gray eyes flickered in her direction a moment before returning to the space map, and marking another set of coordinates. ::

Arielle: I was busy.

Terill: You mean you were laying low until having to report mission failure.

:: Arielle's features flushed a deep, crimson red and rubbed her arms, crossing to the old man's desk. ::

Arielle: I don't recall seeing a notation in his file that David Cody is immune to Deltan pheromones. He left me standing in the damn turbolift.

:: Terrill snorted something between a grunt and a laugh, marking another coordinate without looking up at the young Deltan woman in the office. ::

Terrill: He's not. What he does have is someone near and dear to him, like a certain station Captain. You never had a chance with that strategy.

Arielle: What was I supposed to do? Ask him if he'd like to come up to the Tower, oh, and by the way, Director Terrill would like to see you.

:: Terrill ignored her, marking the notion of another coordinate on his map and writing it with a light graphite pencil that wouldn't leave marks underneath. The blasted things were getting harder and harder to find. ::

Terrill: That, my dear, would have worked.

:: Arielle paused, considering his point. She then noticed the spartan atmosphere of the office. The artwork, the books, the picture of Terrill's wife, his awards and accomodations... all of it was gone. The office had been stripped bare of Terrill to be reverted to just another office waiting for its next occupant. Her gaze averted to a marine bag on the floor leaning against the desk and her eyes flared slightly. ::

Arielle: Wait. You're leaving?

:: Terrill marked another set of coordinates with his sextan, pausing to level his grays on the Deltan briefly before

returning to his star charting. ::

Terrill: You've just now noticed? ::with a shake of his head, muttering:: Kids...

Arielle: ::after studying him:: You know, we do have computers for that.

:: Terrill plotted another course before he answered, and somewhat waspish. ::

Terrill: What happens, then, when you do not have a computer? Huh? What are going to do if say your fancy toys suddenly don't work 'cause some smuck decides to drop a noise bomb that cripples all those fancy sensors you kids love to rely on?

:: He did then level a shrewd, cold, and calculating stare on Arielle with a small, tight smile that bespoke the years before StarFleet Intelligence made him a Director. ::

Terrill: Technology is a tool. Not an excuse for what your own eyes, ears and body can easily accomplish. Do not let technology rule you. If you haven't used your own five senses, then it ain't verified!

:: He snorted and returned to his work, leaving Arielle alone to a bunch of thoughts, mostly around anger and irritation. Terrill was one of the most irritating directors to work with. She wasn't going to miss him. ::

Terrill: Now, where's David Cody?

Arielle: Probably asleep, which is where I'm going. You want him, get him yourself.

:: She turned and headed back for the office door. Terrill finished up his calculations and rolled up his map before stowing it into his bag. ::

Terrill: Can't. Got a trader outbound toward Thracian Space.

:: Arielle stopped and spun around, gaping. ::

Arielle: ...you're back in the field?

:: Zipping up, Terrill hauled his marine bag up and strapped it on his back. For a man in his sixties, he hadn't gotten lazy. Striding over, he stopped briefly to nod at her. ::

Terrill: I've got a lead on our kamakazi Klingon and I need to get out there so I can take a look at what my Assets are reporting with my own eyes. I don't particularly like having smart Klingon Commanders running around that nearly took out three of our starships. Makes me itchy. ::

:: With that, Terrill strode onwards and through the opening door, leaving Arielle in his wake. She glanced around the Director's office and back to Terrill's disappearing back, and indicated both of them. ::

Arielle: Wait! Colonel! Who's running the Tower?! You can't just leave without a replacement!

:: Terrill turned around, walking backwards with a small little bow. ::

Terrill: I do have a replacement. You were supposed to bring him.

:: Arielle's jaw dropped, stunned as she felt inwardly slapped. ::

Arielle: You can't be serious.

Terrill: When you manage to "find" your new Director, tell Commander Cody as of this moment, per instructions from Starfleet Intelligence, he is recalled to active status and is to assume command of the Black Tower. Or... you can take him to his new office here so he can read the notes I left for him. Now excuse me. I'm going to go hunt down a Klingon psychopath that likes to slice up our ships with subspace warp bubbles.

:: And with that, Colonel Jospeh Terrill left striding out reception's door. ::

TBC...

Colonel Joseph Terrill
Director of Intelligence, Black Tower
StarBase 118 Ops

as simmed by

=============================
Commander David Cody
Director of Intelligence, Black Tower
Second Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
SB118 Development Team Facilitator
www.starbase118.net
Ohana

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