‘Even when you don’t have the upper hand, it can be made to be seen that you do. Always act as if your cards are good, until you need them to be bad’, Wade thought to himself as he turned back towards the comm set that he had just finished putting together. There were weapons strewn across the bed. As well as minor pieces of electronics, wires, and tools. : : Wade sat in the backroom of the house that had been rented, and opened the comm call when it arrived. The face was turned away from him, but he recognized the profile. This was the man, the one that had gotten him burned, and he still was not completely certain as to why, what had been accomplished by the act. It did not matter now. Wade had the ability to have it all reversed right there in the palm of his hands. : : =^= I am a bitt, busssy, thisss, better be important=^= Came the sibilant voice over the speakers. : : Though the being was not looking directly at him, Wade smiled and lifted his right hand into the view screen. It was a simple Cylinder with a pulsing green button. The button seemed angry, retributive and hypnotic, causing the head to turn, a yellow eye becoming more visible. Wade’s smile deepened knowing he had the man’s attention now. =^= You just picked up 16 Kiltonnes of Carbomite Gel packs for a really good price. Unfortunately one of the Crates is wired to explode. You can either attempt figure out which one, space the entire load. Or make the call to pull my burn notice. Option 3 is the easiest. Think about it Nar, you don’t need to keep me burned, you got what you wanted, Sifka is dead, Malin is in prison, and you walked away without a trace of dirt on you.=^= : : The being on the other end of the Comm, sighed, it was a hissing sound, =^=Very well, disssssable the bomb, and I will make the calllsss=^= : : Wade shook his head, =^=Mmmmm, nope, Calls then Bombs, I am not stupid, incompetent, or in the least bit feeling merciful. My hand is getting tired though, so you might want to be quick=^= : : Instead of responding the being turned towards his controls, seemed to be working on something. The screen lit up, and there was another call it appeared. It was not coming across where Wade could easily understand it. But Wade was able to catch, “Rescind the Burn Notice on 124618-Whisssskey Kilo” : : “Confirmed, Rescinded” replied whomever was on the other end of the comm, just before it went dark again. : : =^= There it isssssh completed=^= Came the response as the head turned partially back his direction. : : =^= Always a pleasure Nar, let’s not do this again sometime. =^= Wade said as he pressed the green button, and stuck the sonic toothbrush into his mouth. Cutting the comm as he began brushing his teeth. As the screen faded he heard the final comment of, =^=Wassss their even a bo…the rest was cut off. : : Wade King, Civillian Wade had been reinstated 3 Months prior, but it had taken time to get everything straightened back out. Along with the lengthy and inevitable debriefing, after debriefing, after debriefing. It was as if they thought he was lying about everything that had transpired. Wade had not lied about most of what had happened. There was not much involved worth lying about. He had omitted a few of the things he had done to make ends meet during the rough patches. Those were his business not Starfleets. There were a lot things one had to do, when one awoke, and found themselves devoid of rank, privilege, and even status as a real person. When he was flagged in all the databases it had been impossible to travel. He had to smuggle himself off of OED V like a fugitive. That really made things hard to get done. First he had to unravel the Mystery, then he had to get to the person that caused the issues, and convince them it needed to be fixed. He had done that, it had taken a lot longer than he had wanted it, but he had done it. Now he was sitting here twiddling his thumbs, basically in indeterminate lock down until they decided that he was safe to allow out to play again. Then he would have to wait for an assignment, and what that was would tell him how far he was being trusted. With a sigh Wade resigned himself to a future about the USS Bumpkin Hills as Third shift Security team secondary brig guard, or something equally as tedious. Maybe the USS Swift as a detention center guard instead of as an Inmate. He had already done the second, it was not something that he recommended. It was a horrible experience, and that was just the food. The hospitality was like a Klingon house party, where no houses liked each other, and everyone had gotten a root canal an hour prior with no pain meds or sedations. Wade knew that no matter what it was still going to be better than the last few years had been, even if he had enjoyed parts of it. There was no telling where Billy had ended up, and he thought Fiona was on the run, or dead, it had been nearly a year since he had last spoken to her. That was the past and Wade needed to be ready for the future. Wade was not sure how long it had been this time when the door opened and he saw a Familiar face. One that he had last seen only the side view of, and only over a comm screen. The face belonged to a man that had been part and parcel to his whole ordeal, and had in their last interaction thought that Wade was indeed about to kill him with a cleverly placed explosive device. Man Wade wished he had that tooth brush right now. His breath was a bit foul, and he needed a shower. “Hello Wade, we have to go over thisssss, one Lassst time, I am afraid.” came the all too familiar voice. “Of Course we do Nar, cause I have told it often enough for their liking.” Wade responded. Commander Wade King, Starfleet Intelligence

After who knows how many retelling of the same story, Wade found himself back at the scene of the crime so to speak. The deal that had gone south, the entire set up had been to supply weapons to a rag tag, less than competent group of ‘rebels’ that wanted to fight the establishment. It was a crude facsimile of the Maquis being run by someone that only partially recalled the Maquis at all. Some young son of some Maquis hero, that had since gone on to the Prophets, or the Grand Exchequer, or Stovakor, or whatever their belief had been. The man had died quietly in his bed, peaceful, and serene, done with the crimes, atrocities, and pain that was the fight against the Cardassian Union for his home. The Dominion war had settled that fight, but there were always those that could not stop fighting. Could not stop rebelling for the sake of rebelling. And these rebels without a clue, well they were up to no good. Looked like they were starting trouble in the neighborhood. Wade figured one little fight and they’d all run scared, probably go hide with their Aunty, or Uncle, somewhere like Delta Antare.

Room 213 that was where he had woken up after that deal had gone wrong. Sore, bruised, but Alive, and that was what Wade was most interested in staying alive. As he finished getting dressed there was the soft sound of high tech polymers on leather as he holstered the very small, and very discreet hold out weapon, it was a disruptor of Romulan make, only good for 3 shots at best before its power cell was empty. It was a last ditch weapon, and less likely to be looked for, than the full sized version, that he was strapping into a shoulder rig, under his coat. Providence and Caution saved your bacon. That’s why there was a knife in his boot, a smaller one in his pocket, and a third that was wickedly sharp but smaller than a dog tag hanging from a chain around his neck. Into the small pocket he had sewn himself into waistline of the paints he was wearing he tucked, a demagnetizer for modern restraints, and an old fashion handcuff key incase their budget was limited.

Feeling less naked than he had when he had arrived, Wade was ready to meet with these Yokels again, this time though he was not required to play nice, and attempt to buy their antiquities, with cash they could buy weapons from a specific dealer with. They did not react well when the Cash did not arrive. And Well since he had been supposed to make friends, Wade had been mostly unarmed at the time, and had to mostly accept the beating while trying to escape with his life. Once the fight commenced Wade did not really recall much until he woke up in this room. He had reacquainted himself with some old friends, and quickly found out how screwed his life had become. That was over four years ago now. Everything was back the way it was supposed to be, except that his ex-wife, then again wife, was again his ex-wife. His best friend was not happy with his decision to go back into the game. They would learn to live with it, it would just take time. Wade shook his head to clear his thoughts he was dilly dallying, and that was not his style. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he slid on his sunglasses, and stepped outside, satisfied with his choices. Today’s order of business, recover the weapons that had been sold to the Yokels, and give them a reason to retire from the Rebel business for good.

Commander Wade King, Starfleet Intelligence