Sweet Dreams

Storage Room 101, Epsilon Shift.

The man sat on a stool, the only source of light being the overhead lamp. It shined brightly and directly at his face, blocking out any visuals of anything in the corners. He could see the figures in front of him. Starfleet uniforms, that much was certain. Yet, their faces were blocked by the bright light that shined into his eyes.

He tried to adjust himself but his wrists and ankles remained tied to the chair. He wore his Vanilla or Bust uniform, having been picked up just after leaving work. He breathed heavily, anxious at the situation he found himself in.

One of the officers began speaking as the other walked behind him. He spoke with a scraping baritone voice.

“Imagine being locked in a room. It’s too short for you to stand up in and not wide enough for you to lie down in. A room with no light, no heat, and steel walls. If you don’t cooperate, you won’t need to imagine it for long.”

The officer behind him leaned over his shoulder. The vulcanoid spoke in a more controlled tone, having reserved the threats to her cohort.

“If you tell us the truth now, you can leave immediately.”

Truth? What are these people talking about?

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the VoB employee insisted.

“No?” the first officer asked. “We know all about your flavors.”

“F-f-flavors?” the VoB personnel asked. “F-for ice cream!?”

“Yes.” the Vulcan replied. “We know what you did.”

“O-o-our flavors are… Classic Vanilla, Pumpkin Gingersnap, Bla-” he attempted to cite them all before being interrupted.

“Enough!” one officer replied, tossing a bowl of ice cream onto the floor. “Explain this!”

The hostage looked down at cream-splattered floor. “It-it- it’s ice cream?”

“Yes.” The Vulcan replied. “A very curious type, don’t you agree?” With that, the side of the chair received a kick. The employee found himself laying on his side, still tied to the chair. With his face now in the bowl of ice cream, he began to realize what had happened.

The Vulcanoid knelt, staring down the poor man.

“Kava Nut.” she spoke bitterly. “You sold your people out to the Dominion. How much did they pay you?”

“We-” he sputtered out his response. “-we were branching out! There are more Vorta and Jem’Hadar on the station now!”

The other officer was not having it, approaching the man as well.

“How. Much?”

He paused, taking erratic breaths before answering in resignation.

“…one hundred thousand bars of latinum, but it was all lega-”

“From whom? Kalris? Dominion Intelligence? The Consulate?”

Valore paused, moving a hand to the side of her face. It was wet. Why was it wet? And why did her head hurt so much?

“Sir?” the prisoner asked. “Sir, are you okay?”

“Sir? Sir, you awake? Sir?”


Valore’s eyes shot open, jerking away from the desk. The side of her face was covered in drool, along with most of the desk. Not to mention the PADDs that sat atop it.


Her eyes flicked to different items in the room in panic, having been abruptly awakened. Eventually, she found the source of the voice. A crewman had entered the office. She had chosen to sit at Konieczko’s old desk, given that Quint had chosen to occupy the executive office until a replacement could be found and thus it was just another empty room. Besides, there were still a few documents from the last administration that required attention, and she could think of no better person to address them. This room is usually empty, so she didn’t expect a disturbance. Still, this was her first time falling asleep on the job. She hadn’t had much time for sleep since the ceremony. Or maybe she didn’t want to.

“Sir?” the crewman approached. “You uh, okay there?”

“I-er-uh-” she sat upright in the chair, wiping her cheek with her sleeve. “I must have lost focus in the report on economic figures of neighboring neutral planets.” she sighed, taking a look at him as she hoped to throw off the question with a vague answer. “I suppose the situation could be better.”

“Oh, well- uh-” the crewman began “-hope it was an interesting read. Hey look uh, heard you’re a big fan of ice cream. They’ve got Pina Colada flavor down at Vanilla or Bust, if you’re interested. Could go grab some now if this isn’t too important.”

Valore scratched the back of her head, blinking several times as she tried to remove the dizziness from her vision. “As much as I find the idea to be quite agreeable… I think… I think I have had enough ice cream to last a year. Or at least the rest of this year.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Forgot that you’re a-” he made a small gesture at his ear. “You okay, though? It was pretty loud when I was coming in, thought you were having a conversation or something.”

Valore inhaled sharply, looking around the office. It was a stark difference now that the personal effects had been removed.

“It was just a dream, though certainly a vivid one. The last few weeks have been… extraordinary.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” the crewman replied. “You doing alright though, L.T.? You want to talk about it or something?”

Valore paused in her response, several seconds of silence filling the air before she reached towards a PADD on the desk.

“Could you add this to Admiral Quint’s schedule? Monday at gamma?” she asked.

“Oh- uh, yeah sure.” he replied, rubbing his neck as he may have overstepped. “Sure. I’ll get right on it.”

With the crewman gone, the lieutenant rested her elbows on the desk. Her hands moved to her temples, as if trying to stabilize her migraine.

“Computer, what is the accessibility of minutes taken within this office? Filter to exclude security rating one, and only search for those marked as personal.”

The computer responded instantenously.

“There are thirty two records that fit that criteria.”

Valore leaned back, taking a look around the room as she inhaled sharply. It was impossible to tell that this room was once used by someone. Even the recess in the carpet left by that punching bag or whatever it was that Konieczko had was gone.

“Delete all of them.” she uttered at last.

Of course, the computer had to ask more questions.

“Please confirm.”

Valore’s head hit the desk as she ran her hands through her hair.

“Confirmed. Delete them all.”

A few minutes later, she pushed her hands against the desk, trying to lift herself up from it. It had been some time since she had more than a couple hours of sleep. There was no use in stalling any longer, what’s done is done.

OOC: The interrogation was all a dreaaaam.