Captive Considerations
Posted on 14 Jan 2025 @ 9:04pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & Commander Thaddeus Zayne
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC, Security Decks, The Brig
Timeline: MD 26, Evening - Immediately Following A Needle In a Stack of Needles
3558 words - 7.1 OF Standard Post Measure
Lieutenant Junior Grade Lanatine Saaba had volunteered for brig duty. Normally it wasn’t anyone’s favorite, but the place had been very interesting since she had returned with the Pathfinder from her last patrol. They had apprehended and transferred eight pirates under lock and key, and there were all manner of processing and questions. A few of them had orders for extradition to various planets and in fairly short order, their legal representation began coming and going, requiring moving the prisoners between holding areas and rooms for confidential discussions.
Saaba had been on the all-too-exciting patrol, even getting her own go at running tactical in a honest to gods firefight-- this time completely on the books, and not half obscured by a silencing order from Starfleet security, like the Pathfinder’s encounter with the Alabama’s over Korix had been… Saaba was only sorry that she’d clocked her head into the Tactical panel towards the end of the engagement with the Revenant and missed Zahn’s and Lofthammer’s initial interrogations with the prisoners from the other pirate skiff while she had been laid up in sickbay.
It was always interesting to hear what a suspect would spin up before they realized they needed to stave off self incrimination.
She’d done all she could to catch up on the records, taking to them with the same verve as a voracious listener of a true crime audio drama. Because Saaba was, in fact, a voracious listener of true crime audio dramas. Her decision to take the Security track in Academy had been in no small part influenced by her awe of the genre in general.
And now real life was the best live time unfolding crime drama of all.
She’d participated in her first big arrests, and she’d even been conscious for most of the action. Saaba felt at her head, which had long since been treated, the concussion only an uncomfortable memory. She thought she remembered Commander Zahn visiting her in sickbay on the Pathfinder shortly after the Big Showdown: Commander Zahn versus her (supposed) crime family cousin, Revana Nazar. The Pathfinder holding out til the last minute (and beyond) to cover for their away team.
Fruck, as soon as she was able to sit up and stop seeing double, Saaba had opened the bridge playback to see what she’d missed in the final minutes of the battle. She’d lost track (the computer knew the count) of how many times she’d played back the bridge recording of Commander Zahn snarling defiantly into the viewer. Her ship pinned and bloodied in the fight, the friendly Orion became simultaneously vicious and somehow twice as principled. It was inspiring. Saaba wanted to bottle that feeling, drink it like an elixir, and take it with her to the gym. Hot damn.
I was there. She kept telling herself. I was in that fight.
Saaba had already been telling and retelling the story of the daring-do around with the other junior officers in her circle. The capture of the skiff. The arrival of the stolen Defiant. The catty introductions between Nazar and Zahn. The stall-tactic secret meeting on the captured skiff. that was when Saaba had been terrified she was going to lose a commanding officer on her watch. Senior Deputy Marshal Lofthammer had volunteered before Saaba had even gotten into the hallway to call someone up for the job of accompanying the Commander. He seemed to know the game and the score without any help. Lofthammer was never not paying attention… And Saaba was taking all the notes.
Since getting back, Saaba liked to think she detected a growing fondness between Zahn and Lofthammer. Rich, hot divorcee on the rebound with a rugged, gunslinger lawman. Stars, some people could just have it all.
She put her chin on her fist, resting in thought as she watched the live video display of the prisoners from the pathfinder who had been transferred to the brig here on OC. She was on desk duty, but would cycle back on her feet behind the gate next watch-shift.
Maybe, she thought, she should ask for a turn to question some of them. At least the two young idiots who had cast their lots with Harv’s crew: Kemper Sake and Link Deeberwitz. She felt like she could get confessions out of them. With no priors and some down on their luck stories, the two twenty somethings just were low on anyone’s priority list. Likely they’d not get pinned for the murders (they’d never even been on the Virgil), but maybe accessories, with a bargain and a relatively short sentence. Probably would be out on parole if they kept up some good behavior for long enough.
The Ktarian they had a name for now: Renora Drix. She seemed to be a lone maverick who had somehow hitched a ride with Harv. Probably it was her and Harv doing most of the maneuvering and firing when the skiff had been picking at the Pathfinder’s shields. There was already a warrant for her on her homeworld, and having been aboard the skiff when it was disabled, she couldn’t be directly pinned with the murder of the three Virgil crew. Just with attacking a Starfleet patrol vessel… She was likely to get tried and convicted in a couple of courts for a number of things. But in her cell presently, she just looked bored, literally twiddling her thumbs. Saaba knew a chick like Drix would find all the trouble she wanted to entertain herself within a prison population.
Yatz, Saaba thought, her eyes flicking to the next cell’s display, seemed like the kind of guy who had seen the inside of a lot of prisons. It was just another guest room for the Naussiacaan to pace hotly around in, looking for something to throw at someone. He’d already unhooked the folding bed from the wall, attempting to smash it over a guard, and so he’d been left without a cot. Yatz had a personal cause with a political excuse baked in and took issue with the Federation itself, blaming the UFP for the death of his father. Likely he’d go through a number of holding cells before a Nausicaan quote-unquote diplomat made the kind of tit for tat promises… or flat out threats… that got prisoners like Yatz released.
Scanning the rest of the holding cell displays, Saaba took a sip of her iced caff as if she were at the movies and about to get to the good part, her eyes honing in on the next little boxed image containing another prisoner.
He was a Bajoran, with a born-wild look, his hair a bird's nest and eyes the seat of a deranged expression, inborn anger sculpted into his DNA and frozen in the creases between his eyes. Saaba wouldn’t have been shocked if a medical scan proved that his bone marrow produced sheer bitterness. They didn’t have a name for this guy. No birth certificate, no records. His DNA and description just matched wanted registries in multiple sectors. It was an inter stellar arm wrestling match trying to figure out where he’d be tried first and for which suspected murder. Saaba wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been the coldblooded trigger man on Harv’s boarding team. Hopefully a jury would hear enough evidence between the surviving crew of the Virgil and any of the others on Harv’s team that wanted to weasel out of the murder charges and point at this mad dog. Saaba would not have been the least surprised if he had killed far more people than he even had arrest warrants for. Lofthammer hadn’t gotten him to even part his lips in an interview. Saaba wasn’t even itching to try.
Harv, the leader of the lot, Saaba observed spending most of his incarceration in some kind of self induced hibernation, settled into a kind of rubbery mound. Harv seemed to produce his utmost level of slime while absolutely still, developing a protective membrane. Medics were still stumped on what species he was, and Harv wasn’t forthcoming about it. Saaba had her own theories, her leading one being that Harv himself didn’t know where he was from, and that even if he’d told anyone of his origins, it had, likely as not, been fabricated to get them onboard with him. He wasn’t a leader so much as a scammer of the caliber that would make even the most conniving of Ferengi blush.
In the bottom right of the feed were the two captured pirates that Zahn and Lofthammer had the most interest in: the Orion, Allers Tergosa, and his oft cohort, one Andorian Oremmu Sh’azikress. Saaba pulled up the record of their interviews from the Pathfinder, playing them back. She’d already watched the one with Sh’azikress. The Andorian was a cold, smart career criminal, with a little short-lived luck sprinkled in. She should have been convicted a couple of years back, when she’d first been in custody on OC. But a twist of fate had left the doors unlocked when the impossible had happened– when this very stardock under their very feet right now, had been yanked into a void space. The ensuing chaos as everyone tried to evacuate left the brig– which had been full to the brim of prisoners from a recent raid– a literal riot. Sh’azikress was not the kind of woman to miss an opportunity. She’d ridden that wave out on a stolen vessel with the lot. And now? Now she was back, specially assigned to literally the same cell she’d broken out of. Karma– in the embodiment of one Commander Zahn this time– was a bitch.
Saaba selected the next recorded interview to playback and leaned back so she could keep a general view of the prisoner cells as well. She had one eye for everybody… and one for the replay.
The scene recorded from overhead cameras. Allers Tergosa was sitting in a bolted down chair, looking unaffected by Lofthammer as the Marshal asked his straight-laced questions. But partway through, the guard at the door let in Commander Zahn and Saaba noticed Tergosa’s posture and responses change. She watched as the recorded Lofthammer noticed it too, his head pivoting back and forth between his prisoner and his boss. Zahn and Lofthammer moved to the far corner of the room and dropped their voices. Intrigued, Saaba leaned in to the playback and tried to amplify the sound. She couldn’t quite make out the words and started to wonder if she could run it through a reconstructive algorithm to stitch the conversation together, but before much of anything was said, Zahn became visibly agitated and full on slapped Lofthammer, whipping his head around. With the volume maxed out as it was, the sound hit Saaba's own ears.
Don’t tell me how to run an investigation. Zahn’s voice reverberated through the security office’s lobby as Saaba reached to quickly turn the sound back down.
Bolian eyes grew wide. “What the Hell…”
It’d been a little while since Thad had made his way into the brig on the station, and certainly his last trip had been benign to say the least, but he did remember the way. His feet seemed to carry him there of their own accord, his mind lost to memories he hadn’t thought about in a very long time. A lot of life had happened between now and then, and certainly many more things that could fill a few adventure holonovel’s; but that didn’t make their memory any less potent.
Commander Zayne finally made his way through the doors into the main entrance to the security office and to the booking desk by the Brig, rolling his jaw with frustration but ready to accept the consequences of what had just happened. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse or regret in him at the moment, and he knew himself well enough to know that it wouldn’t pop up later. He’d made his choice and he’d stand by it. If anything, he was breaking his promise to his shipmates that he’d beat the one responsible for their deaths, senseless. Knocking him square on his ass seemed a poor imitation of what he’d promised. But even for what he’d done, cold-blooded murder was a bit much.
Seeing someone come in to the front desk, Saaba’s scramble at her console continued as she froze the playback and straightened up. Recognition crossed her face, as she further realized it was the station XO, someone she had never seen down in the Brig area.
“Commander Zayne.” The hearty Bolian Junior Lieutenant jumped up from her seat.
“I’ll need a brig cell,” Zayne declared flatly as he came in. “Captain DeHavilland will provide the details, she has my commbadge,” he said, looking past her to the open spots in the brig. “The charge is assault of a superior officer,” he explained. “That one’s fine,” he added, pointing into the room and walking past her towards an empty cell and simply stepping into it.
The near cells were essentially the drunk tanks and Saaba watched with her mouth hung agape as the First Officer just walked himself into one. “Uhh” she half chuckled, as if it were something like a joke, but another part of her reasoning brain told her to stay sharp, as it might just as likely be some kind of test or his idea of a surprise inspection. She’d never heard of anyone reporting themselves to the brig, at least not before the charges had arrived, telling Security to expect them. It had to be a test.
“Sir, uh,” She pulled up a processing form on a padd, imagining he wanted to see how she handled the processing. “Charge… assault of a superior officer…?” she posed with a stylus. “The aggrieved party is…”
“Captain Bowdler of the USS Alabama, they’ve just arrived,” he answered, looking up at her and then at the non-activated barrier. “It’s protocol to engage the security forcefield, isn’t it Lieutenant?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Ah, yes, sir, that is protocol,” She spelled out ‘Captain Bowdler’ in the aggrieved line, but the act of doing so was slow, a gulp forcing in her throat.
Bowdler…. The Alabama had just arrived? Here? At OC Saaba was momentarily bewildered. The Alabama was running dark. She knew it first hand. But she bit her lip, because if one thing had been made abundantly clear to her since Korix, it was that no one outside of the Pathfinder’s crew who had witnessed the Alabama’s appearance was supposed to know it…. She looked at Commander Zayne a little differently, gauging him as if she could somehow intuit what he did or didn’t know. But his face was stoic, and she looked away, certain she was probably giving away more than she was going to sort. She went for the cell’s control pad. “Protocol, right, the force-field.”
It snapped on with the characteristic initial sweeping glow of gridlines before becoming practically invisible save from certain angles where the energy would shimmer.
Saaba stood there, waiting momentarily. “I uh, I’ll run the search scans.” He, playing the part of arrestee, should have been searched on arrival, and she was fumbling realizing she’d gotten that all out of order.
Thad stood up for the scan, rolling the stress from his neck as he waited for it to be completed.
As the scan lights ran back and forth over the occupant, Saaba confirmed that he was, in fact unarmed, but still had some personal effects in his pockets. She slid a tray through the wall to have him deposit them for claims.
Thad didn’t wander about the station with a palm phaser or anything resembling a weapon, though he had in his younger days and certainly during all his undercover assignments. These days he had a stylus, a pack of breath mints and a few strips of latinum in case he wanted something on the promenade so he didn’t have to go back to his room. All things that would be easily catalogued and returned when this was over - assuming he didn’t just get shipped off station. He wasn’t sure where he was going to stand after punching out a senior, and relatively popular Senior Captain.
“Would you like to make a statement for the record, Commander?” Saaba stood ready with both recorder and stylus.
“No,” Thad answered flatly, turning back to sit down and then swinging his legs onto the small bed/bench that would be his residence for the time being. “Is there anything else required?” he asked, now actually testing her.
“I mean…” With a growing nervousness, concerned that she was being not just tested for booking protocols, but possibly tested out around her knowledge of the Alabama, Saaba started ticking things off from memory. “Witness statements. Senior Brig Duty Officer sign off. Case review scheduling with the advocate’s office, if the charges are advanced...”
“You need a statement from the victim,” Thad offered tonelessly, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the wall of the bunk. He didn’t think he’d sleep well in here, and he wasn’t sure if Corvus would be down there quickly wanting to know what happened or if she’d be so irate that another XO went off the reservation that she’d leave him here to stew.
Victim. That was hardly the word for the man, the true victims had been dead and buried twelve years. Thaddeus had moved past the loss and the fury but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about it from time to time. Anytime he saw a freckled young woman he couldn’t help but think of Julie. How irritatingly optimistic she was, and how frustrating it was for him or any of his team to try and corral her on an away mission to keep her from chasing some strange new butterfly or inspect a venomous creature. He could hardly do his Jiu-Jitsu forms without thinking of how far Oscar might have been in his own forms had he lived.
Their faces came very vividly back to his minds eye as he rested his head back, far clearer than he’d been able to remember them in years. He’d purposely avoided looking them up in the database. It had been hard enough to get past their deaths back then, seeing their faces as they were would have only brought it up. But. Maybe now he needed to. He started to shake his head, but then a thought occurred to him and he smirked. Thad opened his eyes and looked over.
“Can you bring me a data PaDD?” he asked.
“Of course, Commander.” Saaba complied, going back to the desk station and returning to slip the blank access padd to him through the same collection drawer.
Swinging his legs around to the front, he got up and took the offered device and returned to his seat. Corvus hadn’t taken his system access away, she was probably still trying to figure out just what the hell had happened, so he had no problem accessing the system and finding what he was looking for. But even knowing what he was looking for, he still had to pause for a moment as he saw the first face on his screen; one he’d just seen in his memories but hadn’t looked at here for a long time. He heaved a sigh, and went on with his plan.
While the Commander was doing whatever he was on his padd, Saaba was scrolling through the docking updates on her own fact hunt, sure that the Alabama wasn’t actually going to turn up, but unable to handle this bizarre scenario and it’s coincidence with her forbidden knowledge. But as it happened the ship started with ‘A’ and was at the top of the list. “Shhhhh...ut up…” She cleared her throat then looked up. “Sir? You really assaulted Captain Bowdler?”
Thaddeus only turned his eyes up to look at her, “He’s with Captain DeHavilland. You’ll need his statement,” he offered flatly, flicking off the PaDD and tossing it on the bunk.
“I’ll forward a request for him to make a statement, Sir.” If no one filed anything, then she’d have to tell the Commander she couldn’t hold him on nothing but his own claim. “Is there anything else?”
“That’ll be all, Lieutenant,” he added, flipping his legs back onto the bunk and resuming his previous position, this time with the slightest bit of a smirk for what he’d prepared.
