Long Arms of the Law
Posted on Fri Feb 24, 2017 @ 8:49pm by Lieutenant JG Leonora Dell & Commander Caleb Ryan & Lieutenant Mikaela Locke & Lieutenant Daniel Rivera & Ensign Jessica Mayhew
1,630 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Rumours
Location: Various
Timeline: MD05 1700
::ON::
The Promenade, Level 3
Leonora Dell was supposed to be off shift, but with so much to do, it was really only a break. She had come up to the Promenade to get a change of scene. Now, with jumja stick in one hand and an utterberry fizz in the other, she meandered along the boutiques of the third level, looking for something new.
One place, Orion-inspired, she loved to look around, though everything there was more daring than she'd ever wear. It was fun to imagine though. Deep in her reverie she turned and almost walked straight into two tall males, green skinned with high, sloping craniums and pronounced bones around their eyes. Lissepians.
"Lieutenant Dell?" said one. "Leonora Dell?"
"Yes," she replied. "You have me at a--"
Before she could finish, the one who hadn't spoken reached out and took her arm, and before she could even think the glow of a transporter enveloped all three.
Dyson Shipyards
Dan Rivera was sitting at a console in the operations cab overlooking the drydock. His feet were propped up and he was reading a padd. A stainless steel coffee mug was sitting within easy reach. Meanwhile, work outside continued. From his viewport Dan could supervise while the yard workers made some hull repairs on a Mazarite survey vessel. When it was done, Dan would beam back to the station to get supper.
A text-only message appeared in the corner of his screen. Lt. Rivera, report to Station Promenade promptly for meeting with VIPs.
Dan frowned at the message. "VIPs? Who could that be?" He acknowledged the message and set the padd down. Maybe it was the agents from Temporal Investigations. If so, then they were here early. "Porter, keep an eye on things. I'm going to the station for a while."
"You got it," his yeoman said from the adjoining office.
Security Office
"Sir?" A young petty officer put his head around the door to Caleb's office. “I think you better come here. We've just had a couple of very strange reports."
Caleb looked up from the report he was reading and nodded. He put the padd down and stood up. “What kind of reports, Petty Officer?” he asked. His limp was noticeably better; Opal’s regenerative surgeries were working. He followed the young man out into the main security office.
"Someone in a Federation uniform was grabbed and transported from a fashion store on Level 3. That's all we've got."
“No security footage?” Caleb asked. “Damn it! What is happening on this station?” he demanded angrily. He was seriously considering putting in a request to Station Command that security cameras be installed in all businesses. “Did sensors pick up anything on the transporter beam?” he asked. “Pull up the logs. I’ll head down there. Inform the security team on that level that I will be there shortly and to meet me outside the store.”
Intelligence Office
Mikaela Locke's desk was overflowing with padds. One of the challenges of being an intelligence officer on a station the size of Deep Space Five was that so much was happening on the station, so many different dynamics were at play, that you barely had time to think about anything off-station. But, of course, the rest of the galaxy didn't stop turning either.
And so Mikaela had, for the time being, set aside the reports pertaining to various establishments on the Promenade in order to catch up on the latest political reports from Starfleet Intelligence Headquarters.
Her terminal flashed a message, and the computer's voice spoke, "There is a possible international incident occurring on the Promenade. Security has been informed."
Mikaela raised an eyebrow. Why was she being summoned to an incident on the Promenade? It seemed like overkill if security was already on the scene.
There was something more to this than she was being told.
Eyes on Promenade
She hastily typed a message and dispatched it to one of her operatives. If something fishy was going on, it would most definitely be better if she wasn't the only one looking at it.
Promenade, Level 3
Two doors down from the Dilithium Chamber, where someone could get a full, yet discreet, view of Zatara's Sensual Styling Boutique of the Exotic, a young Lissepian woman spoke quietly into her communicator. "Target one taken. Set for subsequent targets. Stand by."
Dan Rivera walked by the Lissepian, momentarily distracted by the inviting entrance to Zatara's. He turned his head back to the concourse in front of him. It suddenly occurred to him he wasn't told where exactly to meet these "VIPs." The Promenade was a big place. He slowed his pace and began to look around.
Two tall Lissepians were heading towards him. "Lieutenant Daniel Rivera?"
Dan turned to them with a puzzled expression. These two didn't look like agents. "Yeah? What can I do for you?"
“I am Zulman Ban." He held out his hand to the young lieutenant.
Dan had an uneasy feeling, but couldn't articulate it within himself. Slowly he approached Zulman and held out his own hand. "Pleasure to meet you. What's going on?"
The Lissepian held Daniel’s hand and covered it with his other one. The second Lissepian stepped behind him with a heavy hand on one of Daniel's shoulders. One spoke a word in Lissepian, and the hum of a transport beam surrounded them before Daniel could say anything.
=====
Caleb strode off the turbolift onto Level 3 of the Promenade. He consulted his security tricorder for the exact location of the boutique and then headed in that direction, keeping his eyes open for the security team that was supposed to meet him.
The Promenade was alive with the usual early evening bustle and didn't seem to be in uproar. No one seemed to be agitated, no obvious signs of a kidnapping.
Caleb spotted the boutique in the distance and wove through the crowd toward it.
"Commander Ryan!" a breathless voice called out. "Commander Ryan!" A young alien man with pale green skin, somewhat short, with a strangely fluted chin, came up to him with an earnest expression.
Caleb slowed and then stopped. He didn’t recognize the alien, but he was a fairly public figure on the station, so it wasn’t beyond the ken if someone recognized him.
“Yes, sir. Can Ah help ya?” Caleb asked the alien. “Ah’m in a bit of a hurry, so we might need ta schedule a time for you ta come ta the office.”
"I need to show you what happened, sir, this way." The young Lissepian put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.
“Okay, son, keep calm,” Caleb told the young man, starting to move in the direction the young alien indicated.
"I'm supposed to show you where they grabbed her. It's this way." The young man put his hand on Caleb's back to usher him the right way, which was when a transporter lock took them both.
=====
On her way down, Lieutenant Locke had checked in with Security to ascertain where the 'incident' was occurring, and then had deliberately exited the turbolift one deck up. The open-plan nature of that section of the Promenade enabled her to look down over the clear balustrade to witness the events occurring below her.
That was when it struck her. Nothing seemed to be occurring below her. There was no sign of an 'international incident', no sign of security, no sign of anything out of the ordinary.
She tapped her comm-badge. "Locke to Security?"
“Security here,” came the chipper tone of Ensign Jessica Mayhew at the front desk. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
"Could you point me in the direction of this 'international incident' that I'm supposed to be here to witness?" Locke asked, making no attempt to hide the irritation in her voice. "Only I'm not seeing anything."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Reports were coming from Section Three-Kilo,” she told Locke. “I...don’t seem to have a name for the business. Just that it is a fashion boutique. Around the corner from The Lotus Lounge and Ten Thousand Worlds, the Bajoran fair trade artisan shop.”
"That's where I am," Locke said, increasingly frustrated. "Have we got any kind of surveillance on the area in question, because I've got eyes on and I'm seeing nothing."
“No, our security sensors are getting scrambled in that area again,” Jessica said in frustration.
For a second, Locke considered getting a second opinion from the agent she had despatched to the scene, but she didn't want to make contact yet. His cover was still tight and she didn't want to risk it with an unsecured communication.
"Lieutenant Locke?" A small alien woman with greenish-grey skin and a high forehead that slanted backwards asked after her with an apologetic tone.
"Yes?" Mikaela turned to face the newcomer, her voice a mixture of surprise and annoyance. She was already trying to deal with one mystery, she didn't really want to be given another...whatever this was going to be.
The alien held out a hand. "Lucent Spirr. Lissepian Embassy."
The moment Mikaela took her hand, a bright beam of light enveloped them, and the whine of the transporter beam filled her ears.
Across the promenade the young Lissepian touched her communicator. "All targets sent." There was a pause before she received the answer, "All targets received." The watching woman got up from her seat, and headed for the turbolifts.
[OFF]
Lt. Mikaela Locke
Senior Intelligence Officer
Lt. Dan Rivera
Yard Officer
Dyson Shipyard
NPC Bert
Ltjg. Leonora Dell
Chief Operations Officer
NPC Notty
Cmdr. Caleb Ryan
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
Ens. Jessica Mayhew
Security Officer
NPC Matthew
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