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As the conference
starts to disolve into small groups, I begin to think that maybe now would be
a good time for one Subarchivist Scurridae to sort of make a quiet departure
and disappear for a bit. If I lay low for awhile, the convoy would arrive
back at the Colonies and I would only be a low-key departure from
returning to normal routine. Routine; sweet normal routine.
I take a long step back to depart. And bump into the Burly Guy.
I step back. He folds his arms. I step sideways toward another exit, look
over and, great, they have a Burly Chick too.
She gives me a Pantherine smile. Probably has a couple of martial combat
moves that she wants to practice.
So I decide that milling around in the ante-chamber might not be
such a bad idea after all. I take a long step back, turn; and nearly
run into Colonel Tigh. Monica is flanking him.
Upon seeing me, Colonel Tigh breaks into a big smile,
"Scurridae this your lucky day: your application for an extension of
your assignment on board the Battlestar Galactica has been approved by the
Senior Command."
"Application?" I start to ask, but Tigh has already
turned to Monica.
"Monica," Tigh speaks, "Find our friend,
Scurridae, suitable accommodations until we can complete the confirmation
clearance."
Colonel tigh nods a farewell, "We'll be in touch."
Bewildered by the turn of events, I turn back to the chamber.
There stands Monica. A look of demure amusement graces her face.
"I can't let you go like that," she says in a low
voice.
"I, ayi, um," I stammer, "Just a couple days and
I am back to nothing. No one would ever be the wiser."
Monica steps back and says, "Scurry, you know too
much," she sighs, "There are powerful factions and cliques that
would stop at nothing to know or suppress the knowledge you know have, even
of the existence of the video-clip," she nods her head, "On the
Galactica, Commander has great ability to help you; planet-side you will find
his power greatly diminished. By staying on the Galactica, your safety will
be increased."
I hesitate, suddenly feeling like a very small and insignifigant
Scurry, in a very huge and inhospitable universe.
Monica takes a step, looks back at me and says, "Scurry, we
can do it my way, or..."
The Burly-Guy and the Burly-Chick smile broadly.
Monica steps back, takes my arm, and starts to guide me to where
she willed, and says, more softly this time, "Don't worry Scurry,
nothing will happen to you, trust me..."
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