Loosening Tongues

Posted on Thu May 31st, 2012 @ 9:07am by Lieutenant Commander Sean O'Connell & Petty Officer 2nd Class Michael Appiah & Chief Warrant Officer Daryl Hastings

Mission: The Mystery Men of Mira
Location: Bridge [MV Drake]
Timeline: MD09 1945hrs.

[ON]

Douzien looked up through bleary eyes at the butt of the phaser rifle which had just impacted with his face. He was going nowhere and the fact that it was now pointed at him, muzzle forward, only served to reinforce the point. He began to make deals with himself. Voight had been good to him for all these years. He overlooked his mistakes and he rewarded his achievements but there was always a nagging suspicion in the back of the big man's head that something like this might happen.

It had.

The minute Voight had been in danger he had sailed Douzien up a creek without a paddle and now here he was with security teams swarming all over the ship that he had come to call home and no way of stopping them. He hoped beyond hope that they hadn't discovered the hastily hidden power-shackles and other instruments of imprisonment that Voight had ordered him to destroy but he was coming to believe that his hope was in vain.

Sean entered and looked at Douzien and then at the Security officer who had hit the man with the butt of his rifle. He pointed to a CPO to have the Security officer escorted from the Drake. He then looked at a padd handed to him and then at Douzien.

"Mister Douzien, former first mate and now 'proud' new owner of this ship according to the paper work we just received. Seems to me you are up a certain creek without a paddle." Sean shook his head. "Can you spell 'screwed'?"

"S-c-r-e..." Douzien quickly realised the rhetorical nature of the question before failing to understand the carrot-over-stick approach of the Starfleet Lieutenant, "I'm not the owner of this ship, your records must be wrong."


"Well, the last owner signed the ship over to you a hour ago. You know the term 'quid pro quo'? Old earth language Latin, mostly still in use by legal professionals. It means 'this for that' or can also be defined as ' you scratch my back, I scratch yours'." Sean moved to the command chair and took a seat.

"I don't understand what it is you want." Douzien said, still playing dumb.

"Now as you are too dimwitted to catch my meaning let me explain. I am willing to offer you and the crew of this ship a better deal if you tell me where the previous owner is. Also we need complete access to the ship's database. Information on the whole scope of your sordid little operation. The Federation takes a dim view on slave trade, but we understand that a crew can not be held responsible for the actions of the Captain of the vessel. I will vouch for you and your staff and the judge will be lenient. You spend a few decades on a small penal colony on earth instead of on an asteroid." Sean looked at Douzien. "Your choice? Weather in New-Zealand is great this time of year and you won't have to be some Nausicaan's 'special friend'."

Hastings cracked a wry smile at the Lieutenant's quip. This was the man's specialty and there was no way any of them were leaving this room until O'Connell had what he wanted. It was unsurprising, therefore, that the Lieutenant had opened with his best offer straight away.

Douzien looked around at the bridge and at the man who now sat in the centre chair. He had never been completely comfortable with Voight's method of making money but the facts were facts. He was complicit in it and he was going to jail for an astonishingly long time. "Fine. The security code is Three-Delta-Four-Gamma-Kappa. I don't know where Voight will have gone. Without a ship, I can only assume that he's gone to meet with the contact we had on the trading station at Mira."

"Blanc, Appiah get the data find Voight and send a copy to JAG, SFI and the Command Staff, scan it well for booby traps or any other surprises before you send it and do it fast. Mister Hastings, detain Mister Douzien and the crew, also inform the security detail on mira to be on the look out and start arresting some suspects we might find from the data." Sean sat back and flipped the panel from the centre chair and entered the code and started searching for any hints on Voight's location. " Mister Douzien, I think I might have made Lieutenant Commander after this, so thank you."

"Aye, aye, sir." Hastings replied eagerly, lifting the First Mate to his feet by linking arms with him.

Blanc and Appiah both took a seat behind nearby consoles and started their search and copying safe files and sending them through to SFI, JAG and the command staff.

Appiah raised an eyebrow as he went through the information. "Sir, we got some mentions of Ritorians and the Vinarian Syndicate. I think we might do some real damage with this. I got mentions of some elected officials, even dirty customs officers. Patrol routes, duty schedules on the station. They also had a file on you and the rest of the senior and command staff,sir."

Sean stood up and looked at the file and shook his head. " Overqualified, no real experience on the field should be manageable." He read out loud. "Forgot about the tendency for narcissism. Send it through, Sergeant. I want a copy of every file. By the end of this day I want the key players my ego can handle a bump. Besides Starfleet counsellors are way harsher then this."

[OFF]

Lieutenant Sean O'Connell
Chief Of Station Security

Chief Warrant Officer Daryl Hastings [NPC: Gunning]
Master-At-Arms

Master Chief Petty Officer Jack Blanc [NPC: O'Connell]
Senior Investigator
Starbase 332

Douzien
First Mate
MV Drake