Down that path, into darkness deep as hell...

Posted on Thu Jun 29th, 2023 @ 7:36pm by Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D & Lieutenant Commander Finnley Keating VII

Mission: Wrath of the People
Location: Starfleet Security. Administrative Holding.
Timeline: MD7 - 0130
2276 words - 4.6 OF Standard Post Measure

A ten minute break was all he had been given, and it wasn't nearly enough time.

Standing straight so the supporting brace in the corridor hid his full silhouette, he waited for the guard to leave her shift and move off down the four way intersection. Her colleague, he could hear, yawned and rose from the admin desk and walked past him stopping just ever so briefly to side-eye the secretive, concealed man pressed against the wall. Ten minutes until the first guard would return from her break; with the second guard never to be seen again - not that he knew it. It was only fleeting, but he looked with regret to the young Rigellian as he walked away thinking he'd earned a few bars of latinum and a decent transfer, simply for disappearing for ten minutes. Little did he know he would be dead in the next hour.

Moving from his hiding place, the illusive figure moved slowly down the corridor and turned into the dead-end he'd been looking for. Only one cell was illuminated, and he moved to stand directly in front of it. Ten minutes gave him no time for strategy, or games, or anything other than sheer brute force and directness. He looked into the cell where the woman was located and dropped the forcefield, pointing a phaser at her he ordered "get up".

"What the hell?" Finn put her hands up and stood. "Commander Cameron?" She asked, only slightly surprised to see him holding a phaser to her. He had been one that seemed especially disturbed by her testimony in court. "What are you doing? Is this some sort of poorly attempted rescue attempt? Couldn't stand to see this much talent rot behind bars or something?" She chuckled lightly, even though it wasn't quite appropriate for the moment. She knew at this point that the likelihood he had something to do with this whole conspiracy was high and that she might not make it through the night, so she might as well have a little fun.

"Hardly..." he grimly returned. Nine minutes - at best. "I need to ask you some questions..." he could feel his eyes burning, partly from tiredness, alongside a decent dose of stimulants offset with sedatives. He was anxious, a deep knot in his stomach gnawing at him like a spiky tribble trying to wriggle it's way out of his gut. "You did not supply Captain Kane with bomb-making materials. Why have you testified that you have?".

---
She lays in wait, like a Sehlat crouched in the sporadic tufts of grasses across the sandy plains of her home world. Watching her prey, she rocks backwards ever so slightly - testing the spring in her knees, ready to pounce, ready to kill.
---

"What do you mean I didn't supply the Captain with the bomb-making materials? You think I would commit perjury, damn my Captain to life in prison and have myself land in prison by testifying that I supplied them when I didn't?" He wasn't wrong, Finn thought, but she needed information too.

"Yes" he answered, knowing full well he was right. The hypospray clipped up his left sleeve guaranteed that the Commander would be found having suffered a mysterious yet massive stroke shortly after he left her, and had eight minutes now; directness was the way forward here. "You know that is true. I know that is true. The reason I know it is true is because Captain Kane was not supplied with anything...now talk..." he emphasised his point by jabbing his phaser in her direction again.

"How do you know he wasn't supplied with anything?" Finn kept an eye on the phaser and mentally prepared to attempt a disarm once she gleaned any information that she could. The guards would be back in just a few minutes, neither of them had much time.

---
Edging closer, and closer still, her breathing is stalled. Not a sound escapes the deck under feet.
---

Eight minutes.... "Because I arranged the supply and transfer of the materials to a friend. And one of your own engineers ensured the same traces were in Kane's quarters. Now..." he readjusted his grip "...you have caused a complication. Why?".

"One of my engineers?" Finn was internally furious. How could someone on her own team have done that? "I wanted to see Kane go down. He's a miserable Captain and he's caused me a lot of grief," she lied as she started to pace in the cell. "Who did you convince to plant false evidence in the Captain's room? Clearly, we're on the same side here, though I"m sure you plan to kill me before our time is up," Finn shrugged. "Might as well satisfy my curiosity and give me a name."

He smiled cruelly; "No" he said, softly - menacingly. "Besides, I doubt you are going down for conspiracy to commit terrorism just to see Kane banged up..." Cameron shook his head. "No..." - Seven Minutes - "...no something else is going on here. Kane was going down anyway, that old relic -" Cameron wobbled his head to emphasise an imitation of Commodore Babanin "is as pompous as they come, but he was going to win...". Truly, neither Cameron nor any of the others could understand why Commander Keating had said what she had; it was alarming, a delicate plan with a highly unstable element now introduced. "Tell me. Satisfy my curiosity first; why have you done this?".

"Give me a name, then I'll tell you what you want to know," she paused for a moment before giving a sly smile. "Look, you need the information I have. You're likely planning to kill me either way so I have no incentive to offer you anything. Give me a reason. Give me some names, then I'll tell you why I really did it. Otherwise, you might as well just kill me now. Makes no difference to me," she shrugged.

"I do not know" he answered truthfully. Compartmentalising was essential in an operation such as this. "But let's be clear Commander, the outcome of your wellbeing hinges entirely on what words come out of your mouth next. As does Colonel Keating's..." he watched for a reaction... "and I believe the physics laboratory your mother still consults at may soon suffer a desperately sad accident..." he warned. Six minutes. "Let us try again. You have caused a serious confusion and disruption to a finely threaded tapestry, woven to yield untold riches - why?".

---
Within striking distance, only a small desk sits between her and her prey. It will not be enough to stop her. She watches, and waits for her moment.
---

Finn stuttered in her step and held back a gasp at Cameron's words. Why hadn't she thought about her family getting pulled into this mess? That was the last thing she intended. Her mind spun on the threats to her family while her mouth opened to answer questions. "I knew it couldn't have been Captain Kane, he's not that kind of man. I'm sure you've realized by now that I have an unquenchable thirst for curiosity. I needed to know more and the only way to do that was to get involved, so here I am." She gave few details but didn't entirely avoid the truth either. Hopefully, it would be enough to satisfy him. "You mentioned untold riches? Someone's paying you to do this? Who?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he countered. "The situation pays for itself. With Jacob out of the way, we can get back to task. You see there's far too much order, far too much regulation out there..." he vaguely waved his hand off into an unknown distance, thinking about the ninth fleet area of operation. "Once Starfleet pulls out, colonies and stations will fend for themselves however they best can, and if you're the one on the selling side of protective measures...well; beats a desk job with asses like Babanin". Five minutes. "Now I might believe that you only wanted to get to the bottom of what's happened...but why? To what end? You were powerless to begin with, and now you're an untrusted prisoner being charged...".

"I'm not so powerless," Finn said, almost offended at the notion. "Either way, I knew my chances were low of being able to do anything about it, but I had to know. I had to try. What you're trying to do is insane. Mass chaos just so you can make a buck off of selling protective measures? What's wrong with you? You have to see that's not the answer to exchanging a desk job for something mildly more exciting right?" She said, knowing her words were unlikely to persuade him but hoping for the best anyway.

"But it IS the answer to so many, many things..." he retorted. "This is all besides the point anyway. You've wasted your life. You've created concern and confusion and all for nothing, and now you are out of time and out of options. You can't turn back, and it's too late for tears or useless pity...". Cameron unclipped the hypospray from his cuff and held it out. "Save your cries for help Commander..." he said with a sickeningly reassuring tone; "the suffering will be less if would just go quietly, and your family will left with the peaceful tragedy of your untimely death due to a stress induced stroke..." he held the tip of the medical implement out towards Keating. It was a shame, but he'd been sent with very clear instructions, and if she would only extend her arm...

A final intake of vital breath, before she leaps...

Finn sidestepped, pushing his arm away from her as she made a grab for his wrist and shoulder. "I'm honestly offended that you think I'd shed tears over this interaction." She pushed him away and then kicked the hypospray from his hand as he turned around to retaliate before he managed to tackle her to the ground.

Gripping the engineer, Cameron forced his knees onto her upper arms to hold her in place whilst he grabbed for the thankfully still nearby hypospray, he had to use every sinew of every muscle as their hands and wrists met in a desperate struggle, with the hypospray getting nearer and nearer to Keating's neck as pushed down with everything he had. His right arm was yanked backwards and he...flew? No. Not flew. Someone had grabbed him and - "YOU!" he roared through the spasming pain as he crashed into the brig wall.

"Me..." P'rel replied, gripping his neck and lifting him up as flailing legs kicked at her. She winced as an unnoticed hypospray found her forearm, and then dropped to the floor from Commander Cameron's hands. Hand which now clawed at her own wrapped around his windpipe tightly. Her forearm burned from the injection, but she didn't feel any immediate effects otherwise and she'd have to worry about what was in it later. "Commander Cameron. You are going to suffer. Surrender and I promise you will suffer less". she warned him, her voice and face conveying just how sincere she was. "Finnley?" she asked, not breaking her deathly intense stare but wanting to know if her friend was hurt.

Finn sat stunned for a moment before scrambling to her feet. "Where the hell did you come from?" She asked, surveying the area to see if there was any place obvious for the Vulcan to have emerged from. Her eyes then fell to the hypospray on the ground. "Did he get you with that? Are you ok?" She asked.

Still not particularly able to catch his breath, Cameron grinned and forced through choking fingers "Probably not...". He suddenly landed on his feet as he was dropped the short distance to the ground.

P'rel backhanded him with a closed first, sending certainly one tooth - possibly two - clattering to the floor. "I am uncertain, but right now we do not have time to consider such things". She did, however, notice a marginal dizziness coming over her, slight and manageable - for now. The Vulcan, still in the starfleet uniform with the gold departmental designator, tapped the comm badge on her chest which had been isolated and slaved exclusively to the master unit held by "Colonel Keating, surfboard is unharmed and we have one prisoner, are you in position?"

"In position, calibrating now," Quinn's voice rang through. He was overjoyed that his daughter was safe, but keep his focus on the task at hand. Even if she was safe now, there was risk until he could beam them to his location.

"Surfboard? Really? Of all the nicknames you two could've come up with, you chose surfboard?" Finn rolled her eyes.

"Thiry more seconds," Quinn's fingers ran across multiple windows. Transporting someone with the advanced site-to-site transporter that he and P'rel had decided to use was no issue, but getting through the interference of a prison system and beaming through the added security was a real hassle.

"I mean you could've used engineering daredevil, warp wizard, mechanical genius? There were so many options," Finn continued until she noticed that something seemed off with her Vulcan friend. "Dad, I think you'd better hurry," she reached down and grabbed the empty hypospray, in case they needed to evaluate it to figure out how to counteract anything that had been injected. Only half a second more passed before their view was taken over by the glittering lights of a transport.