S1E1 - Testing Boundaries

[Danjar-Torra Addams]

Lieutenant Danjar-Torra Addams
[Outpost Solaere -  Promenade - Deck 8 - Civilian Transporter room]

[[Outpost Solaere, Deck X, The Jackal]

For some reason the lights had went out and a load of fog appeared, "What the heck is going on here!? Ugh!" Taja's medical tricorder beeped an alarm, the flaxian greeter was going into cardiac arrest. "Dr Grippen to Ops, I need that transport now!" Finally an answer came back to the affirmative, but she was needed here and they had little to no doctors available...

[...]

"Patient's location is adjacent to the Jackal's entrance on the promenade, a flaxian. I will remain here and tend to the rest of the wounded. Grippen out."

The Grazerite gnawed at her bottom lip in worry as she set the targeting to the area specified.  The Jackal was where Nira was asking for backup.  She hoped her friend and XO was alright.   A moment later the transporter scanners picked up the extremely weak Flaxian biosignature and locked onto it.

"Energizing!" A count of four seconds and the cycle completed.  The patient was now in Sickbay!

With the transport complete, Torra cleared her override and reset the console for civilian use once more.  She dipped her head towards the tech who was still frowning at her that she'd just bullied her way in.

"Thank you.  You just helped save a life.  I'll be sure to make mention of your helpfulness in my report."

She was just leaving when the 3 civilian leaders arrived at the transporter room.  "My apologies gentleman, Commander Said has called me away.  I trust you'll be have safe transport back to Ciden IV." she said in passing, not even pausing her stride as she spoke to them

Torra then began an long-legged run towards the turbolift.

"Lt Addams to Commander Said.   I'm on my way - am about 2 minutes out from the Jackal."

[Kinley Garrison]

[Commander Nira Said | The Jackal Casino and Facilities | Decks Eleven and Twelve | Outpost Solaere]

Nira saw Dersch slip out, and before she answered his question, he was already shifting into position. He gave indication to stand by. She looked back at Rabolon, who scowled. It was just the three of them - Torra is apparently going to be delayed, from her call - and it was time to improvise.

She nodded at Rabolon, still holding Cloten captive, and then emerged.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ALL OF YOU!!!"

The entire gang stopped where they stood. A lot of them reacted in recognition. Getting a good look at them, Nira recognized them back: They were members of Cloten's crew. The rest just looked in surprise or befuddlement. Then, before some among them - Nausicaan or otherwise - she looked at the emerging Rabolon with Cloten in his clutches. Now that made them all even more nervous.

"That's right, keep back!" she shouted. "Or else my security chief will scrunch up your boss all the way until he looks like a tribble!"

Rabolon gave a brief choking squeeze on Cloten to drive the point home. Then Nira turned back to the gang.

"Now, what the hell is going on?" she snarled. "What gives you the gall to override station controls and try to use an establishment as a cache for all your illegal crap?"

"None of us shut down the lights, Starfleet!" snarled back a Nausicaan.

"And this illegal crap has already b..."

A young Orion spoke up but abruptly shut up. There was something in his voice and body language that gave something away, and gave Nira a thought: What if they weren't bringing in the stash? Was it entirely possible all this was here before Starfleet returned? Or, Allah Forbid, was it here when the station was in operation before the Dominion War, and that Outpost Seven's officers were not as moral as they appeared?

"Well, we'll get your answers in due course," snarled Nira. "You're all under arrest."

The whole dock facility erupted in howls of laughter. One of the chortling Flaxians - who looked so slinky and rugged, he looked like a weasel made of wood enough to look like a tree - sneered at her, "Just the two of you?"

"As it so happens, we have a dozen more officers hidden among the crates around me up here," said Nira, gesturing to the crates in the upper level, wherever Dersch was. "And if you don't come quietly, we may have to do this the hard way."

Rabolon and Cloten looked at her simultaneously. Both obviously had the same expression and skeptical body language that said: "You're bluffing."

Indeed, after dealing with so many criminal types, and given her experience with Cloten, and given the outpost's limited numbers, Nira felt the need to make a bluff. But this time, the bluff didn't work.

"How about we settle for no, girl?" sneered an Orion, not from Cloten's crew. "And we get our boss back?"

"I guess we're doing it the hard way," said Nira with a shrug and drew her phaser. "Commander, get Cloten out of here."

The first of the Nausicaans were storming up the stairways toward her. Nira shot them down with stun setting. Looking around, she said, "NOW, MISTER DERSCH! FIGHTING RETREAT!"

It was a fighting retreat, all right, what with disruptor bolts shooting about, but with the crowdedness around, coupled with the concerns of a lot of the gang - whether or not they were Cloten's crew - that Nira was feeling like hurricane winds whistling before her (concerns, she could guess, in that some of the crates can contain anything volatile that could ignite if hit), she was amazed there were no hits on her part.

A grunt made her whirl around and she saw Cloten bite into Rabolon's hand. The Chelon let go in surprise and Cloten scrambled out the way he came.

"All officers, out!" ordered Nira. "Computer, dispense Anesthizine in..." she paused, remembering what freighter dock this could be, recalling the Promenade layout and remembering where the Jackal was... "...Freighter Dock Six! Intruder containment protocol!"

"Unable to comply," the computer responded.  "Intruder containment protocols nonfunctional."

"Shit," snarled Nira, and she realized...of course. This outpost was long older than the Challenger, and in any case, it could've been offline either from neglect from a long abandonment or - if the theory of using the station as a cache was accurate - could've been taken offline by the crooks.

"Computer, force fields around all entryways to Freighter Dock Six! Anybody with Antican, Nausicaan, Orion and Flaxion bio-signatures is not allowed to pass!"

"Acknowledged," the computer said, and the forcefield went up, though not before Cloten escaped. It did lower for Rabolon, but he was hit on the lower leg by a disruptor as he ran past. Nira held off as long as she could for Dersch to exit, and then she ran out. The forcefield being specific to certain signatures, and the proximity to one Nausicaan when she left, was indicative that when she ran through the doorway she came, the Nausicaan had a hand outstretched to grab her...only for the forcefield coming back up to catch him in the arm the nanosecond she was clear.

Nira didn't stop to see what happened to him, but kept up after Cloten, overtaking the limping Rabolon.In fact, they made it as far as the restaurant section when Cloten, not seeing where he was going, bumped right into Kinley and landed on the floor. He looked up and scowled.

"Well. What's Little Orphan Annie doing here?" he sneered sarcastically, looking at Kinley's face as Nira loomed above him and Rabolon caught up.

"Kinley...seeing as we met up at Deep Space Nine," said Nira with savage indignation at Cloten, "I presume you would know Mister Deej Cloten? He's the owner of this establishment, which is really a cover for a snow job worth a Kuiper Belt, and we need to have words with him."Rabolon, meanwhile, noticed the Flaxian he knocked out was gone, and seeing the medical personnel about, he approached Taja and gave his best meek turtle look.

"Ah. I wondered where he went. But...if his being knocked out led to a medical emergency...well, I must feel the need to apologize, Doctor Grippen...after all, we Chelons....let's just say I never know my own strength sometimes, and if the man came in contact with my claws...well, if you know a Chelon's physiology, I hope that man was treated all right."

Civilian doors were easy, the hair pin went in just so - and if you twisted it like this, and then pressed down like so...   The metal of the hair pin formed a jumper on the circuit board - and the door hissed open.  It wasn't like picking locks of the 20th century, there were no tumblers.  She was simply short circuiting the maintaince panel.  The computer didn't even know it was happening.
Computers.. only as good as the worst programmer.
The lights inside the room powered on, bathing everything in warm illumination.  Nice.  She'd have to remember these quaters, shouldn't be too hard to keep out starfleet, it wasn't as if they owned the place.
Ah, the replicator.  Now this was attached to the main computer, for most things.  couldn't have just anyone getting hold of uniforms or weapons.
but basics?
Computer, maintance mode.  Water - warm
It hummed and produced a small mug.  Demands like this would stay in the local logs, but not be sent to the stations central computer, after all - it was just a cup of warm water for maintance purposes.
She dabbed at her face and cleaned off some of the muck of the day.  That was better.  Now.. What was she doing?
Trying to get into trouble with Starfleet, on behalf of Starfleet, whilst making it look like she despised Starfleet.  Well the former and the latter should be easy.  She put the mug back on the replicator
Computer, maintance mode, level 2 deep clean
the mug disappeared and the user lights on the console went out.  it would now spend several minutes bombarding itself with charged photons as it made itself clean.
Leaving again, pausing to shift the hairpin and closing the door - she took a different route to the rear of the Jackal.  no sense in waltzing through the front door, but she needed to know what Starfleet were after - and if any of it could accidently become hers.
Following the corridor she didn't notice the forcefield until she'd passed through it, the static tickle making her look round expectantly - but seeing noting.
bu..wha?
Computer, state purpose of forcefield
"By command of Commander Nira, Antican, Nausicaan, Orion and Flaxion bio-signatures are prohibited from Entryways to Freighter Dock Six! "
Well that's just dumb..?
"Statement not understood"=/\=
Go suck on a warp core she retorted as she continued, there must be something of great interest, especially if Starfleet was going to start getting choosy over species.  She'd have to keep an eye open for this 'Nira'
the corridor opened up into larger dock areas, the usual stacks of crates were convenient - and she hid behind some accordingly and listened to the sounds of other people having a bad day.
The crate in front of her was on closer inspection ajar.
I mean.. If its not sealed.. then it's fair game right?.  Whats a 'Varon-T Disruptor'? she asked herself - looking at the shipping label and then opening the lid

[The Jackal]

Kinley didn't get her answer, not quite anyway, when she was suddenly thrust into the  situation,  quite literally, almost being bowled over by the rather short Cloten, sending her landing somewhat unceremoniously on her rear.  Quickly getting up and brushing herself off, she folded her arms and tried to project an air of authority, grateful that she brought a phaser if things went south, which it looked like the situation was quickly becoming so.

The name Cloten didn't 100% ring a bell in her mind. but then again, she hadn't quite had the time to really get to know people. Apparently, this fellow might have to be one she'd have to get to know a lot better.  Also, "œLittle Orphan Annie?" Like the old Earth movies?  Not the worst insult she had gotten, but still.

"œI'm here as backup, thank you very much. As she said, you're under arrest.   We have a long chat ahead, I think. I'd rather not have to stun you if I don't have to.  "

Cloten grumbled, clearly unhappy at the situation, but went out with  Kinley to the brig for now.

She nodded to everyone else here.  "œLet me know if  you need me and I'll be back as soon as I can from the brig."

-----------

[Meanwhile]

As Lindsay opened the crate, filled to the brim with unauthorized rifles and other goods,  a small little device attached to the crate began to flash, then another crate nearby, and another, until the entire room of crates was filled to the brim with blinking, flashing lights.

[Feeva Drylo]

Outpost Solare
Medical

Feeva got to work, following behind the medics, doing triage as she could, the best she could. She really needed an extra hand on her body, three more hands on other people, two more EMHs, and probably a stiff drink. Thankfully, the rest of the injuries weren't too bad, and they were able to work quickly. SO far, everyone would live.

Great work, counsellor. I'll be sending more walking wounded down to you momentarily, nothing serious as of right now. We got station civilians under arrest that will require treatment also with a security escort. Taja out.

=/\=Yes, ma'am. We're ready.

She lied. She wasn't ready. The pain that the patients were feeling was starting to hurt her head. She would need a break shortly, but she fought through it for now. She bent over a young Bajoran. "Hello. I am Ensign Drylo. This is going to hurt, but only for a moment," she said, as she administered the hypospray a medic handed her. Next to her, the EMH worked, as well. The team of eight people were like a well-oiled machine, working in a line, rotating as necessary.
How many people were hurt in whatever was going on? Feeva was also picking up danger and deceit but couldn't quite pinpoint the source. Annoying.

[Danjar-Torra Addams]

Lieutenant Danjar-Torra Addams
[Outpost Solaere -  Promenade - Deck 8  >>  Promenade - Deck 10 ]

[The Jackal]

"œI'm here as backup, thank you very much. As she said, you're under arrest.   We have a long chat ahead, I think. I'd rather not have to stun you if I don't have to.  "

Cloten grumbled, clearly unhappy at the situation, but went out with  Kinley to the brig for now.

She nodded to everyone else here.  "œLet me know if  you need me and I'll be back as soon as I can from the brig."

Torra did not run gracefully by human standards.  She bounded - each step of her powerful legs bouncing her forward onto the next.  The extension of her knee, stifle and hock gave her a far wider bounding stride than most human's were capable of.

This evolution out bounding, came in handy a few moments later when Torra discovered the turbolift area crowded with still frantic people trying to vacate the area given the recent blackness and fogging.  Waiting for the turbolift to clear seemed like it would take precious time, so Torra charged onward toward the nearest flight of stairs.  Since the turbolift was still active, Torra was rather certain the staircase would be empty- and it appeared that way when she first arrived.

One... Two .. Three bounds -  and Torra was on the middle landing.  Four... Five.... Six bounds. - There was the door to Deck 9.  But the Grazerite's goal was Deck 10.   Seven... Eight... Nine.. Torra  passed a middle landing once more...  Ten... Eleven..  Torra scrambled to a halt as a youth darted out into the staircase landing in front of her.

Torra looked at the young Romulan in surprise. The Romulan teen backed away and ran further up the stairs.  With the way ahead clear, Torra took that last bouncing leap onto the Deck 10 landing.  She glanced up towards the fleeing Romulan teen but had no grounds to pursue.  She opened the Deck 10 door and continued her run towards the Jackal.

She arrived a few moments later, just in time to see the back of Commander Garrison walking away with an Antican in custody.   Torra looked to Nira.

"Sorry I'm late.  How can I help?"

[J.B Dersch]

[Commander Nira Said | The Jackal Casino and Facilities | Decks Eleven and Twelve | Outpost Solaere]

Nira saw Dersch slip out, and before she answered his question, he was already shifting into position. He gave indication to stand by. She looked back at Rabolon, who scowled. It was just the three of them - Torra is apparently going to be delayed, from her call - and it was time to improvise.

She nodded at Rabolon, still holding Cloten captive, and then emerged.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ALL OF YOU!!!"

The entire gang stopped where they stood. A lot of them reacted in recognition. Getting a good look at them, Nira recognized them back: They were members of Cloten's crew. The rest just looked in surprise or befuddlement. Then, before some among them - Nausicaan or otherwise - she looked at the emerging Rabolon with Cloten in his clutches. Now that made them all even more nervous.

"That's right, keep back!" she shouted. "Or else my security chief will scrunch up your boss all the way until he looks like a tribble!"

Rabolon gave a brief choking squeeze on Cloten to drive the point home. Then Nira turned back to the gang.

"Now, what the hell is going on?" she snarled. "What gives you the gall to override station controls and try to use an establishment as a cache for all your illegal crap?"

"None of us shut down the lights, Starfleet!" snarled back a Nausicaan.

"And this illegal crap has already b..."

A young Orion spoke up but abruptly shut up. There was something in his voice and body language that gave something away, and gave Nira a thought: What if they weren't bringing in the stash? Was it entirely possible all this was here before Starfleet returned? Or, Allah Forbid, was it here when the station was in operation before the Dominion War, and that Outpost Seven's officers were not as moral as they appeared?

"Well, we'll get your answers in due course," snarled Nira. "You're all under arrest."

The whole dock facility erupted in howls of laughter. One of the chortling Flaxians - who looked so slinky and rugged, he looked like a weasel made of wood enough to look like a tree - sneered at her, "Just the two of you?"

"As it so happens, we have a dozen more officers hidden among the crates around me up here," said Nira, gesturing to the crates in the upper level, wherever Dersch was. "And if you don't come quietly, we may have to do this the hard way."

Rabolon and Cloten looked at her simultaneously. Both obviously had the same expression and skeptical body language that said: "You're bluffing."

Indeed, after dealing with so many criminal types, and given her experience with Cloten, and given the outpost's limited numbers, Nira felt the need to make a bluff. But this time, the bluff didn't work.

"How about we settle for no, girl?" sneered an Orion, not from Cloten's crew. "And we get our boss back?"

"I guess we're doing it the hard way," said Nira with a shrug and drew her phaser. "Commander, get Cloten out of here."

The first of the Nausicaans were storming up the stairways toward her. Nira shot them down with stun setting. Looking around, she said, "NOW, MISTER DERSCH! FIGHTING RETREAT!"

It was a fighting retreat, all right, what with disruptor bolts shooting about, but with the crowdedness around, coupled with the concerns of a lot of the gang - whether or not they were Cloten's crew - that Nira was feeling like hurricane winds whistling before her (concerns, she could guess, in that some of the crates can contain anything volatile that could ignite if hit), she was amazed there were no hits on her part.

A grunt made her whirl around and she saw Cloten bite into Rabolon's hand. The Chelon let go in surprise and Cloten scrambled out the way he came.

"All officers, out!" ordered Nira. "Computer, dispense Anesthizine in..." she paused, remembering what freighter dock this could be, recalling the Promenade layout and remembering where the Jackal was... "...Freighter Dock Six! Intruder containment protocol!"

"Unable to comply," the computer responded.  "Intruder containment protocols nonfunctional."

"Shit," snarled Nira, and she realized...of course. This outpost was long older than the Challenger, and in any case, it could've been offline either from neglect from a long abandonment or - if the theory of using the station as a cache was accurate - could've been taken offline by the crooks.

"Computer, force fields around all entryways to Freighter Dock Six! Anybody with Antican, Nausicaan, Orion and Flaxion bio-signatures is not allowed to pass!"

"Acknowledged," the computer said, and the forcefield went up, though not before Cloten escaped. It did lower for Rabolon, but he was hit on the lower leg by a disruptor as he ran past. Nira held off as long as she could for Dersch to exit, and then she ran out. The forcefield being specific to certain signatures, and the proximity to one Nausicaan when she left, was indicative that when she ran through the doorway she came, the Nausicaan had a hand outstretched to grab her...only for the forcefield coming back up to catch him in the arm the nanosecond she was clear.

Nira didn't stop to see what happened to him, but kept up after Cloten, overtaking the limping Rabolon.In fact, they made it as far as the restaurant section when Cloten, not seeing where he was going, bumped right into Kinley and landed on the floor. He looked up and scowled.

"Well. What's Little Orphan Annie doing here?" he sneered sarcastically, looking at Kinley's face as Nira loomed above him and Rabolon caught up.

"Kinley...seeing as we met up at Deep Space Nine," said Nira with savage indignation at Cloten, "I presume you would know Mister Deej Cloten? He's the owner of this establishment, which is really a cover for a snow job worth a Kuiper Belt, and we need to have words with him."Rabolon, meanwhile, noticed the Flaxian he knocked out was gone, and seeing the medical personnel about, he approached Taja and gave his best meek turtle look.

"Ah. I wondered where he went. But...if his being knocked out led to a medical emergency...well, I must feel the need to apologize, Doctor Grippen...after all, we Chelons....let's just say I never know my own strength sometimes, and if the man came in contact with my claws...well, if you know a Chelon's physiology, I hope that man was treated all right."

[Lt. Jg JB Dersch | The Jackal Casino and Facilities | Decks Eleven and Twelve | Outpost Solaere]

Dersch waited until he heard Nira yell at the group. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ALL OF YOU!!!" Dersch peeked over and Saw Nira and the Chief.

"That's right, keep back!" she shouted. "Or else my security chief will scrunch up your boss all the way until he looks like a tribble!" Well thats one way to get their attention

"Now, what the hell is going on?" she snarled. "What gives you the gall to override station controls and try to use an establishment as a cache for all your illegal crap?"

"None of us shut down the lights, Starfleet!" snarled back a Nausicaan.

"And this illegal crap has already b..."

"Typical Pirates and Smugglers" He mumbled, Dersch quickly check his pistol, Ready.

"Well, we'll get your answers in due course," snarled Nira. "You're all under arrest."

The whole dock facility erupted in howls of laughter. One of the chortling Flaxians - who looked so slinky and rugged, he looked like a weasel made of wood enough to look like a tree - sneered at her, "Just the two of you?"

"As it so happens, we have a dozen more officers hidden among the crates around me up here," said Nira, gesturing to the crates in the upper level, wherever Dersch was. "And if you don't come quietly, we may have to do this the hard way."

Dersch smiled. He pulled his sleeve up and opened up the compartment that was in his arm, Not only was a Disassembled Pistol, But 1 Smoke Grenade. He pulled it out and was ready to deploy it.

"How about we settle for no, girl?" sneered an Orion, not from Cloten's crew. "And we get our boss back?"

"I guess we're doing it the hard way," said Nira with a shrug and drew her phaser. "Commander, get Cloten out of here."

The first of the Nausicaans were storming up the stairways toward her. Nira shot them down with stun setting. Looking around, she said, "NOW, MISTER DERSCH! FIGHTING RETREAT!"

Dersch quickly tossed the grenade up and over and fired 4 stun shots into the group, But only hit 2 of them. Dersch quickly jumped up and over the pile of crates to find a big lukring Orion waiting. Great... The Orion quickly tried to snatch  JB but he quickly landed a punch that still had a Phaser in hand to the gut, and he pulled the trigger as it connected with his stomach. Dropping the orion quickly. Hes gonna feel that in the morning JB quickly then moved to follow the group pursuing Nira.

Dersch saw Nira waiting for him and soon they were back together. "Well. What's Little Orphan Annie doing here?" the little furball sneered at Kinley. "Permission to send him down the field like the Last Home Game Shot During a Final Football game Commanders?" JB asked the Commanders

[Lindsey]

[The Jackal]

As Lindsay opened the crate, filled to the brim with unauthorized rifles and other goods,  a small little device attached to the crate began to flash, then another crate nearby, and another, until the entire room of crates was filled to the brim with blinking, flashing lights.

flash

what was that?

flash

Oh that's not good is it?

flash flash

there's two of them?  But i didn't touch that box

flash flash flash flash flash

Uh oh..
flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash disco! flash flash flash flash
She started scrabbling at the source of the flashing, Lights? (bad) alarms? (worse)  explosives? (farewell world) Light emitting tribbles? (goodbye universe)
it was a small device, battery, transmitter of some sort, the usual collection of wires and whatever that bit was..
no time to think, pick one!
she reached out and ripped several of the exposed wires from the thing and hoped

flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash                                flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash                flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash  flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash
Fudge..
She curled up as close to floor as possible and waited for whatever happened next

[Nira Said]

Torra then began an long-legged run towards the turbolift.

"Lt Addams to Commander Said.   I'm on my way - am about 2 minutes out from the Jackal."

[The Jackal]

Kinley didn't get her answer, not quite anyway, when she was suddenly thrust into the  situation,  quite literally, almost being bowled over by the rather short Cloten, sending her landing somewhat unceremoniously on her rear.  Quickly getting up and brushing herself off, she folded her arms and tried to project an air of authority, grateful that she brought a phaser if things went south, which it looked like the situation was quickly becoming so.

The name Cloten didn't 100% ring a bell in her mind. but then again, she hadn't quite had the time to really get to know people. Apparently, this fellow might have to be one she'd have to get to know a lot better.  Also, "œLittle Orphan Annie?" Like the old Earth movies?  Not the worst insult she had gotten, but still.

"œI'm here as backup, thank you very much. As she said, you're under arrest.   We have a long chat ahead, I think. I'd rather not have to stun you if I don't have to.  "

Cloten grumbled, clearly unhappy at the situation, but went out with  Kinley to the brig for now.

She nodded to everyone else here.  "œLet me know if  you need me and I'll be back as soon as I can from the brig."

[Lt. Jg JB Dersch | The Jackal Casino and Facilities | Decks Eleven and Twelve | Outpost Solaere]

Dersch waited until he heard Nira yell at the group. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ALL OF YOU!!!" Dersch peeked over and Saw Nira and the Chief.

"Typical Pirates and Smugglers" He mumbled, Dersch quickly check his pistol, Ready.

Dersch smiled. He pulled his sleeve up and opened up the compartment that was in his arm, Not only was a Disassembled Pistol, But 1 Smoke Grenade. He pulled it out and was ready to deploy it.

Dersch quickly tossed the grenade up and over and fired 4 stun shots into the group, But only hit 2 of them. Dersch quickly jumped up and over the pile of crates to find a big lukring Orion waiting. Great... The Orion quickly tried to snatch  JB but he quickly landed a punch that still had a Phaser in hand to the gut, and he pulled the trigger as it connected with his stomach. Dropping the orion quickly. Hes gonna feel that in the morning JB quickly then moved to follow the group pursuing Nira.

Dersch saw Nira waiting for him and soon they were back together. "Well. What's Little Orphan Annie doing here?" the little furball sneered at Kinley. "Permission to send him down the field like the Last Home Game Shot During a Final Football game Commanders?" JB asked the Commanders

Lieutenant Danjar-Torra Addams
[Outpost Solaere -  Promenade - Deck 8  >>  Promenade - Deck 10 ]

Torra did not run gracefully by human standards.  She bounded - each step of her powerful legs bouncing her forward onto the next.  The extension of her knee, stifle and hock gave her a far wider bounding stride than most human's were capable of.

This evolution out bounding, came in handy a few moments later when Torra discovered the turbolift area crowded with still frantic people trying to vacate the area given the recent blackness and fogging.  Waiting for the turbolift to clear seemed like it would take precious time, so Torra charged onward toward the nearest flight of stairs.  Since the turbolift was still active, Torra was rather certain the staircase would be empty- and it appeared that way when she first arrived.

One... Two .. Three bounds -  and Torra was on the middle landing.  Four... Five.... Six bounds. - There was the door to Deck 9.  But the Grazerite's goal was Deck 10.   Seven... Eight... Nine.. Torra  passed a middle landing once more...  Ten... Eleven..  Torra scrambled to a halt as a youth darted out into the staircase landing in front of her.

Torra looked at the young Romulan in surprise. The Romulan teen backed away and ran further up the stairs.  With the way ahead clear, Torra took that last bouncing leap onto the Deck 10 landing.  She glanced up towards the fleeing Romulan teen but had no grounds to pursue.  She opened the Deck 10 door and continued her run towards the Jackal.

She arrived a few moments later, just in time to see the back of Commander Garrison walking away with an Antican in custody.   Torra looked to Nira.

"Sorry I'm late.  How can I help?"

[Commander Nira Said | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira had looked at Dersch come in and offer to kick him in the style of a sports ball and smirked. "Not yet, Mister Dersch, we do need him to answer questions," she said.

She looked up to see Torra arrive just as Cloten was being escorted away. She stopped and smiled more warmly. "Glad you're here, Torra. We have the rest of the furball's gang contained within the freighter dock they had commandeered just below here. Nobody of their signatures - Antican, Orion, Nausicaan and Flaxian - will be able to get out nor in. We're all going to have a little chat with him about the contraband behind the trouble. Commander Rabolon and Mister Dersch will be on hand to guard while we question him. Taja, can you come along and get a look at Commander Rabolon's legs while we're at it?"

She turned back and jogged a bit to catch up. She leaned over to Cloten and sneered. "Believe me, you furry little bastard, you have two tall crewmembers to deal with, and you don't want to screw with them."

She gestured between Rabolon next to him, and Torra in the distance to drive the point home. Cloten took note of their height, and then he looked back and forth between Torra's horns and gulped nervously.

-----------

First Officer's Log, Supplemental. Deej Cloten has been arrested and now we are questioning him. He had at first proven uncooperative until I mentioned a certain Commodore LaForge, and then, between that and Rabolon and Torra, he began to talk. He's given us everything, and this revelation indicates how deep this is. Much deeper than we realized.

[Commander Nira Said | Security Office | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira didn't like what she was hearing as she sat next to Kinley. Rabolon was seated at one side of the little furball while Taja looked him over. Dersch stood at the other side, and Torra stood at the door. She had satisfaction that threatening him to tell Commodore LaForge that a missing ship from the Fleet Museum can be found at New Jericho had, along with intimidation from two tall officers, made him tell everything.

"So," said Nira with a scowl. "This station is not as abandoned as we had realized."

"Just because it ain't abandoned does NOT mean we were taking it over and crewing it ourselves!" protested Cloten.

"No, but still, you and your gang already have another charge against you," said Nira. "Trespassing on Starfleet property. And the fact that it's been going on for potentially thirty years doesn't help you any, though it makes it harder to find more people willing to talk."

She rose and loomed over Cloten. "Taking advantage of Outpost Seven's abandoned status to use it as a cache for illicit goods. Taking advantage of the backwater status of Ciden, before and after Hobus. Before the outpost was abandoned at the start of the Dominion War, even. How many the hell officers before the war were in on this?"

"I personally was not there!" Cloten said. "Hell, I was still a young pup finding my footing, I hadn't even left the Beta Renner system thirty years ago! You know my decorations, so you'd know what I was doing. I never even began first checking out the stashes until a dozen years ago."

"Your genocidal tendencies are noted, Cloten," snarled Nira quietly. "But your involvement in the here and now is significant. Your knowledge of the stashes means you are among the scumbags who sneak in and out to hide in our haul out contraband. It runs smoothly until as recent a few, maybe a dozen or so days ago.

"Somehow," she continued, pacing before Cloten like a genuine jackal, "the criminal network, including the Orion Syndicate, has gotten wind that Starfleet intends to refit Outpost Seven to Outpost Solaere, that Starfleet intends to move back into the outpost once again. For anybody who knows of the cache hidden in the outpost, it's created a big damn stir. You, of course, have gotten to know the cache better than the rest of the Syndicate. Therefore, with the help of one or two gangs, you decided to scramble and get there first.

"You take over one of the freighter docks," she continued, "the closest ones to the cache, the one part of the station that's kept up operation since the outpost was abandoned. You make use of the space around it into a casino and restaurant, identical to the one you set up on Katra Station, only it's bigger. And then you take the restaurant immediately above the dock in the Promenade to provide cover for your sorting the contraband, moving it to the dock and preparing to get ships, under cover of making trade, to get them off the station. Is this all you have told us?"

"Why did I need to tell the whole damn story again when you just did?" snapped Cloten.

"Unfortunately, you certainly roused plenty of suspicion," said Nira in a steely tone. "You were in such a hurry, you couldn't be bothered to replicate chairs. You had to arrange junk - potentially some of your own salvage - to arrange your furniture. And you had to empty your entire liquor cabinet for your bar, and even that wasn't enough. Where do you have your ship now?"

"Docked at a landing pad in New Jericho," Cloten answered, looking up at Torra's horns and giving a nervous pine. "And two more Syndicate ships are waiting to pick up the goods after we do, mothballed Romulan Birds of Prey."

Nira narrowed her eyes. The mention of Syndicate Romulan ships brought to mind one of the Three Praetors, whom agents of the Free State, passing information to Starfleet Intelligence, that he was a crime lord member of the Orion Syndicate.

"Well, we can see now why there's contraband hidden here," Nira said, looking around to Kinley, Torra, Rabolon, Dersch and Taja. "What bothers me now is who among Starfleet is in on this; somebody spread the word on the network that Starfleet was moving back. It has to be an officer who used to serve here when it used to be Outpost Seven."

"If I may, Commander," Rabolon said, "who's to say any Federation officers who used to serve here were the only ones in on this scheme?"

The specific wording - Federation, not Starfleet - suddenly gave Nira pause.

"Of course," she said in realization. "At least somebody in the New Jericho leadership had to know Starfleet was coming, whether or not there was somebody in Starfleet Command who used to serve at Outpost Seven."

"And I had seen the administrators coming and going from there," Rabolon said. "I saw them go into that craphole when I started my shakedown. Cloten had some lookouts posing as workers in there, while I keep seeing people moving stuff about in the backrooms. Well, the administrators go in there. A moment later, I see them leave. When I get to the Jackal, they're all gone except for two of them, one of them the Flaxian I knocked out. And the moving in the back has increased the pace."

Nira narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in such a thin line. Then she looked at Kinley and said, "We're going to have to get down to New Jericho soon. The sooner, the better. Mister Roshard has a lot to answer about. Cloten will be confined here; the rest of his gang isn't going anywhere, not with them being trapped with forcefields around every entryway."

Looking up at Torra, she said, "Torra, you were escorting the administrators, how long were they at the Jackal before resuming back to the docking rings?"

Civilian doors were easy, the hair pin went in just so - and if you twisted it like this, and then pressed down like so...   The metal of the hair pin formed a jumper on the circuit board - and the door hissed open.  It wasn't like picking locks of the 20th century, there were no tumblers.  She was simply short circuiting the maintaince panel.  The computer didn't even know it was happening.
Computers.. only as good as the worst programmer.
The lights inside the room powered on, bathing everything in warm illumination.  Nice.  She'd have to remember these quaters, shouldn't be too hard to keep out starfleet, it wasn't as if they owned the place.
Ah, the replicator.  Now this was attached to the main computer, for most things.  couldn't have just anyone getting hold of uniforms or weapons.
but basics?
Computer, maintance mode.  Water - warm
It hummed and produced a small mug.  Demands like this would stay in the local logs, but not be sent to the stations central computer, after all - it was just a cup of warm water for maintance purposes.
She dabbed at her face and cleaned off some of the muck of the day.  That was better.  Now.. What was she doing?
Trying to get into trouble with Starfleet, on behalf of Starfleet, whilst making it look like she despised Starfleet.  Well the former and the latter should be easy.  She put the mug back on the replicator
Computer, maintance mode, level 2 deep clean
the mug disappeared and the user lights on the console went out.  it would now spend several minutes bombarding itself with charged photons as it made itself clean.
Leaving again, pausing to shift the hairpin and closing the door - she took a different route to the rear of the Jackal.  no sense in waltzing through the front door, but she needed to know what Starfleet were after - and if any of it could accidently become hers.
Following the corridor she didn't notice the forcefield until she'd passed through it, the static tickle making her look round expectantly - but seeing noting.
bu..wha?
Computer, state purpose of forcefield
"By command of Commander Nira, Antican, Nausicaan, Orion and Flaxion bio-signatures are prohibited from Entryways to Freighter Dock Six! "
Well that's just dumb..?
"Statement not understood"=/\=
Go suck on a warp core she retorted as she continued, there must be something of great interest, especially if Starfleet was going to start getting choosy over species.  She'd have to keep an eye open for this 'Nira'
the corridor opened up into larger dock areas, the usual stacks of crates were convenient - and she hid behind some accordingly and listened to the sounds of other people having a bad day.
The crate in front of her was on closer inspection ajar.
I mean.. If its not sealed.. then it's fair game right?.  Whats a 'Varon-T Disruptor'? she asked herself - looking at the shipping label and then opening the lid

[Meanwhile]

As Lindsay opened the crate, filled to the brim with unauthorized rifles and other goods,  a small little device attached to the crate began to flash, then another crate nearby, and another, until the entire room of crates was filled to the brim with blinking, flashing lights.

flash

what was that?

flash

Oh that's not good is it?

flash flash

there's two of them?  But i didn't touch that box

flash flash flash flash flash

Uh oh..
flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash disco! flash flash flash flash
She started scrabbling at the source of the flashing, Lights? (bad) alarms? (worse)  explosives? (farewell world) Light emitting tribbles? (goodbye universe)
it was a small device, battery, transmitter of some sort, the usual collection of wires and whatever that bit was..
no time to think, pick one!
she reached out and ripped several of the exposed wires from the thing and hoped

flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash                                flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash                flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash  flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash
Fudge..
She curled up as close to floor as possible and waited for whatever happened next

[{NPC} Lieutenant Shujip | Freighter Dock | The Jackal, Lower Level | Deck Twelve | Outpost Solaere]

The crates gradually lighting up was not lost on the gang, and once they all lit up, they became listless and nervous. There was a buzzing of nervous mutterings for a moment before the Nausicaan who snarled at Nira earlier, Shujip, one of Cloten's right hand muscle men, shouted, "ENOUGH! Which of you tripped the beacon?!?"

The mutterings, briefly silencing, only started up again, all in denial, all repeatedly saying, "It wasn't us."

Shujip growled and looked around. Another of Cloten's right hand men, and a fellow Antican with as much a genocidal record against the Selay as Cloten had, Selurn, sauntered up and said, "This is bad. If the beacon's tripped...we're in trouble."

"Who, us or the Starfleeters?" Shujip snarled.

"We've become exposed," Selurn retorted hard. "We haven't even disarmed the beacons yet. The Syndicate's coming. And if that particular rep from the Syndicate happens to be Domitian, we may as well expect our bones to get spread across the whole damn system."

Shujip nodded, suddenly remembering the blackout, and the Starfleeter woman accusing them of tripping it...he began putting two and two together and suddenly getting five.

"There's somebody here who doesn't belong among us," he roared, and the whole gang was still at the news. "And it's none of us, since we can't get past those force fields. Search around. Find anybody who ain't like any of us. We offer that whoever it is, then our coming 'friends' will understand it ain't us."

[Kinley Garrison]

[The Jackal]

Kinley nodded. Thanks for coming so quickly. "œ she said to Torra, eyeing Cloten and the others.

At Dersch's remarks, she had to agree with Nira on that effect. "œHold up, Mr. Dersch.  We may still need your  expertise at butt-kicking soon enough. she mentioned,  listening to the unfolding situation.  It seems like those administrators might not have told them everything just yet, and if the Orions were  in on it as well, there could be a lot more trouble.  "˜They've already left, haven't they?

Either way, there was a situation.  "œWe  will deal with these Administrators again,  for sure.  I'm more worried that the station will be under attack soon by the Orions.

  "˜This is Garrison to station ops. I'm placing the station on yellow alert.  Prepare for red alert and potential hostiles onboard." 

[On route to Security offices]

It was only just then that Kinley noticed the various signals lighting up on some of the crates in here.  "œYou guys are seeing these lights, are you? Where did they come from?" They didn't look like bombs, but clearly, they were trapped in some fashion.  "œCan we get some analysis on them?  We may have to evacuate if they're rigged with bombs. "œ

She thought of the two doctors who were busy taking care of the injured Flaxian and others.  "œWill you be able to evacuate quickly if needed? "

[J.B Dersch]

[Comman | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira had looked at Dersch come in and offer to kick him in the style of a sports ball and smirked. "Not yet, Mister Dersch, we do need him to answer questions," she said.
She looked up to see Torra arrive just as Cloten was being escorted away. She stopped and smiled more warmly. "Glad you're here, Torra. We have the rest of the furball's gang contained within the freighter dock they had commandeered just below here. Nobody of their signatures - Antican, Orion, Nausicaan and Flaxian - will be able to get out nor in. We're all going to have a little chat with him about the contraband behind the trouble. Commander Rabolon and Mister Dersch will be on hand to guard while we question him. Taja, can you come along and get a look at Commander Rabolon's legs while we're at it?"

She turned back and jogged a bit to catch up. She leaned over to Cloten and sneered. "Believe me, you furry little bastard, you have two tall crewmembers to deal with, and you don't want to screw with them."

She gestured between Rabolon next to him, and Torra in the distance to drive the point home. Cloten took note of their height, and then he looked back and forth between Torra's horns and gulped nervously.

[Lt. Jg JB Dersch | Security Office | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

"So," said Nira with a scowl. "This station is not as abandoned as we had realized."

"Just because it ain't abandoned does NOT mean we were taking it over and crewing it ourselves!" protested Cloten.

"No, but still, you and your gang already have another charge against you," said Nira. "Trespassing on Starfleet property. And the fact that it's been going on for potentially thirty years doesn't help you any, though it makes it harder to find more people willing to talk."

She rose and loomed over Cloten. "Taking advantage of Outpost Seven's abandoned status to use it as a cache for illicit goods. Taking advantage of the backwater status of Ciden, before and after Hobus. Before the outpost was abandoned at the start of the Dominion War, even. How many the hell officers before the war were in on this?"

"I personally was not there!" Cloten said. "Hell, I was still a young pup finding my footing, I hadn't even left the Beta Renner system thirty years ago! You know my decorations, so you'd know what I was doing. I never even began first checking out the stashes until a dozen years ago."

"Your genocidal tendencies are noted, Cloten," snarled Nira quietly. "But your involvement in the here and now is significant. Your knowledge of the stashes means you are among the scumbags who sneak in and out to hide in our haul out contraband. It runs smoothly until as recent a few, maybe a dozen or so days ago.

"Somehow," she continued, pacing before Cloten like a genuine jackal, "the criminal network, including the Orion Syndicate, has gotten wind that Starfleet intends to refit Outpost Seven to Outpost Solaere, that Starfleet intends to move back into the outpost once again. For anybody who knows of the cache hidden in the outpost, it's created a big damn stir. You, of course, have gotten to know the cache better than the rest of the Syndicate. Therefore, with the help of one or two gangs, you decided to scramble and get there first.

"You take over one of the freighter docks," she continued, "the closest ones to the cache, the one part of the station that's kept up operation since the outpost was abandoned. You make use of the space around it into a casino and restaurant, identical to the one you set up on Katra Station, only it's bigger. And then you take the restaurant immediately above the dock in the Promenade to provide cover for your sorting the contraband, moving it to the dock and preparing to get ships, under cover of making trade, to get them off the station. Is this all you have told us?"

"Why did I need to tell the whole damn story again when you just did?" snapped Cloten.

"Unfortunately, you certainly roused plenty of suspicion," said Nira in a steely tone. "You were in such a hurry, you couldn't be bothered to replicate chairs. You had to arrange junk - potentially some of your own salvage - to arrange your furniture. And you had to empty your entire liquor cabinet for your bar, and even that wasn't enough. Where do you have your ship now?"

"Docked at a landing pad in New Jericho," Cloten answered, looking up at Torra's horns and giving a nervous pine. "And two more Syndicate ships are waiting to pick up the goods after we do, mothballed Romulan Birds of Prey."

Nira narrowed her eyes. The mention of Syndicate Romulan ships brought to mind one of the Three Praetors, whom agents of the Free State, passing information to Starfleet Intelligence, that he was a crime lord member of the Orion Syndicate.

"Well, we can see now why there's contraband hidden here," Nira said, looking around to Kinley, Torra, Rabolon, Dersch and Taja. "What bothers me now is who among Starfleet is in on this; somebody spread the word on the network that Starfleet was moving back. It has to be an officer who used to serve here when it used to be Outpost Seven."

"If I may, Commander," Rabolon said, "who's to say any Federation officers who used to serve here were the only ones in on this scheme?"

The specific wording - Federation, not Starfleet - suddenly gave Nira pause.

"Of course," she said in realization. "At least somebody in the New Jericho leadership had to know Starfleet was coming, whether or not there was somebody in Starfleet Command who used to serve at Outpost Seven."

"And I had seen the administrators coming and going from there," Rabolon said. "I saw them go into that craphole when I started my shakedown. Cloten had some lookouts posing as workers in there, while I keep seeing people moving stuff about in the backrooms. Well, the administrators go in there. A moment later, I see them leave. When I get to the Jackal, they're all gone except for two of them, one of them the Flaxian I knocked out. And the moving in the back has increased the pace."

Nira narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in such a thin line. Then she looked at Kinley and said, "We're going to have to get down to New Jericho soon. The sooner, the better. Mister Roshard has a lot to answer about. Cloten will be confined here; the rest of his gang isn't going anywhere, not with them being trapped with forcefields around every entryway."

Looking up at Torra, she said, "Torra, you were escorting the administrators, how long were they at the Jackal before resuming back to the docking rings?"

[Lt. JG JB Dersch | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

"Not yet, Mister Dersch, we do need him to answer questions," Nira Replied. Dang it, I really wanted to.

She turned back to Cloten and sneered. "Believe me, you furry little bastard, you have two tall crewmembers to deal with, and you don't want to screw with them."

Yep she's pissed Dersch thought.

[Lt. JG JB Dersch | Security Office | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Dersch stood at the other side, and Torra stood at the door.

"Just because it ain't abandoned does NOT mean we were taking it over and crewing it ourselves!" protested Cloten.
It sure seems like it

"No, but still, you and your gang already have another charge against you," said Nira. "Trespassing on Starfleet property. And the fact that it's been going on for potentially thirty years doesn't help you any, though it makes it harder to find more people willing to talk."

Nira continued "Taking advantage of Outpost Seven's abandoned status to use it as a cache for illicit goods. Taking advantage of the backwater status of Ciden, before and after Hobus. Before the outpost was abandoned at the start of the Dominion War, even. How many the hell officers before the war were in on this?"

Let them try now, They are gonna get a beating if so....

"I personally was not there!" Cloten said. "Hell, I was still a young pup finding my footing, I hadn't even left the Beta Renner system thirty years ago! You know my decorations, so you'd know what I was doing. I never even began first checking out the stashes until a dozen years ago."

Excuses, Excuses

"Your genocidal tendencies are noted, Cloten," snarled Nira quietly. "But your involvement in the here and now is significant. Your knowledge of the stashes means you are among the scumbags who sneak in and out to hide in our haul out contraband. It runs smoothly until as recent a few, maybe a dozen or so days ago.

Dersch heard this and knew Nira was getting impatience. She might kick him instead of me...

"Somehow," Nira continued, pacing before Cloten like a genuine jackal, "the criminal network, including the Orion Syndicate, has gotten wind that Starfleet intends to refit Outpost Seven to Outpost Solaere, that Starfleet intends to move back into the outpost once again. For anybody who knows of the cache hidden in the outpost, it's created a big damn stir. You, of course, have gotten to know the cache better than the rest of the Syndicate. Therefore, with the help of one or two gangs, you decided to scramble and get there first.

"You take over one of the freighter docks," she continued, "the closest ones to the cache, the one part of the station that's kept up operation since the outpost was abandoned. You make use of the space around it into a casino and restaurant, identical to the one you set up on Katra Station, only it's bigger. And then you take the restaurant immediately above the dock in the Promenade to provide cover for your sorting the contraband, moving it to the dock and preparing to get ships, under cover of making trade, to get them off the station. Is this all you have told us?"

"Why did I need to tell the whole damn story again when you just did?" snapped Cloten.

"Unfortunately, you certainly roused plenty of suspicion," said Nira in a steely tone. "You were in such a hurry, you couldn't be bothered to replicate chairs. You had to arrange junk - potentially some of your own salvage - to arrange your furniture. And you had to empty your entire liquor cabinet for your bar, and even that wasn't enough. Where do you have your ship now?"

"Docked at a landing pad in New Jericho," Cloten answered, looking up at Torra's horns and giving a nervous pine. "And two more Syndicate ships are waiting to pick up the goods after we do, mothballed Romulan Birds of Prey."

Greaat, Romulan Ships.... Dersch moved to shake his now sleeping leg.

"Well, we can see now why there's contraband hidden here," Nira said, looking around to Kinley, Torra, Rabolon, Dersch and Taja. "What bothers me now is who among Starfleet is in on this; somebody spread the word on the network that Starfleet was moving back. It has to be an officer who used to serve here when it used to be Outpost Seven."

"Commander, This seems to get worse by the mintue" Dersch said to Nira

"If I may, Commander," Rabolon said, "who's to say any Federation officers who used to serve here were the only ones in on this scheme?"

Traitors....Ooooo Let me figure out whos  a Back stabbing Mother..... Dersch hated people who were starfleet the  turned thier backs on them.

"Of course," Nira said in realization. "At least somebody in the New Jericho leadership had to know Starfleet was coming, whether or not there was somebody in Starfleet Command who used to serve at Outpost Seven."

Dersch listened as the Two talked about the Seemingly growing problems.

"And I had seen the administrators coming and going from there," Rabolon said. "I saw them go into that craphole when I started my shakedown. Cloten had some lookouts posing as workers in there, while I keep seeing people moving stuff about in the backrooms. Well, the administrators go in there. A moment later, I see them leave. When I get to the Jackal, they're all gone except for two of them, one of them the Flaxian I knocked out. And the moving in the back has increased the pace."

Nira narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in such a thin line. Then Nira looked at Kinley and said, "We're going to have to get down to New Jericho soon. The sooner, the better. Mister Roshard has a lot to answer about. Cloten will be confined here; the rest of his gang isn't going anywhere, not with them being trapped with forcefields around every entryway."

"I can get a away team on standby commander, For the Colony transport, But they might already know and might try to run" Dersch stood ready to move, and ready to get the team ready.

[Dr Taja Grippen]

[The Jackal]

Kinley nodded. Thanks for coming so quickly. "œ she said to Torra, eyeing Cloten and the others.

At Dersch's remarks, she had to agree with Nira on that effect. "œHold up, Mr. Dersch.  We may still need your  expertise at butt-kicking soon enough. she mentioned,  listening to the unfolding situation.  It seems like those administrators might not have told them everything just yet, and if the Orions were  in on it as well, there could be a lot more trouble.  "˜They've already left, haven't they?

Either way, there was a situation.  "œWe  will deal with these Administrators again,  for sure.  I'm more worried that the station will be under attack soon by the Orions.

  "˜This is Garrison to station ops. I'm placing the station on yellow alert.  Prepare for red alert and potential hostiles onboard." 

[On route to Security offices]

It was only just then that Kinley noticed the various signals lighting up on some of the crates in here.  "œYou guys are seeing these lights, are you? Where did they come from?" They didn't look like bombs, but clearly, they were trapped in some fashion.  "œCan we get some analysis on them?  We may have to evacuate if they're rigged with bombs. "œ

She thought of the two doctors who were busy taking care of the injured Flaxian and others.  "œWill you be able to evacuate quickly if needed? "

[Outpost Solaere, Deck X, Promenade, Security Office]

With Rabolon's injuries taken care of Taja listened to the rest of the conversation until the commander hailed her. "Evacuate? It depends on what, we have one very sick patient but the rest are walking wounded. Unless it's to a starship, i wouldn't recommend moving our Flaxian Greeter patient."

She then tapped her commbadge to see how Feeva was doing, the counsellor who suddenly had to deal with triage. "Grippen to Feeva, what's the flaxian's condition - is he safe to move? We may have to evacuate the station..."

[Nira Said]

[The Jackal]

Kinley nodded. Thanks for coming so quickly. "œ she said to Torra, eyeing Cloten and the others.

At Dersch's remarks, she had to agree with Nira on that effect. "œHold up, Mr. Dersch.  We may still need your  expertise at butt-kicking soon enough. she mentioned,  listening to the unfolding situation.  It seems like those administrators might not have told them everything just yet, and if the Orions were  in on it as well, there could be a lot more trouble.  "˜They've already left, haven't they?

Either way, there was a situation.  "œWe  will deal with these Administrators again,  for sure.  I'm more worried that the station will be under attack soon by the Orions.

  "˜This is Garrison to station ops. I'm placing the station on yellow alert.  Prepare for red alert and potential hostiles onboard." 

[On route to Security offices]

It was only just then that Kinley noticed the various signals lighting up on some of the crates in here.  "œYou guys are seeing these lights, are you? Where did they come from?" They didn't look like bombs, but clearly, they were trapped in some fashion.  "œCan we get some analysis on them?  We may have to evacuate if they're rigged with bombs. "œ

She thought of the two doctors who were busy taking care of the injured Flaxian and others.  "œWill you be able to evacuate quickly if needed? "

[BEFORE HEADING TO THE SECURITY OFFICE...]

[Commander Nira Said | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]
Nira looked around at Kinley's pointing out something....sure enough, one of the crates was flashing. She narrowed her eyes and tapped her comm badge.

"Said to Savar, get down her right away and bring along as many science officers as you can," she said. "There's something in some certain crates that are flashing something, we need you to check them over, see if there's nothing dangerous about them. Bring along some Engineering and Operations officers if there are any to spare."

"On my way," came Savar's answer. Nira looked back down at Cloten with a scowl. Once Torra joined them, she added, "Once we're finished talking with Cloten, Torra, I need you to get over to Savar and help him."

Cloten had been noticing, too. There was an all-too brief spasm of emotion that Nira caught, but it shut off before she could place what kind of emotion it was, he reacted too fast. Nonetheless, his reaction was significant, and Nira was determined to ask him about that once she and Rabolon were done questioning him about the crates.

[{NPC} Lieutenant Savar | Ops | Deck One | Outpost Solaere]

Savar scowled in befuddlement. What in Surak's name was going on? Once he announced his heading to the Promenade, he sent out the call.

"Misters Avant and Savel, report to the Promenade." Then, looking for any Engineering officers to help, he saw a familiar name and called in.

"Mister Gohun, report to the promenade."

[Danjar-Torra Addams]

Lieutenant Danjar-Torra Addams
[Outpost Solaere -  Promenade - Deck 10 - The Jackal  >>  Promenade - Security Office]

[Commander Nira Said | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira had looked at Dersch come in and offer to kick him in the style of a sports ball and smirked. "Not yet, Mister Dersch, we do need him to answer questions," she said.

She looked up to see Torra arrive just as Cloten was being escorted away. She stopped and smiled more warmly. "Glad you're here, Torra. We have the rest of the furball's gang contained within the freighter dock they had commandeered just below here. Nobody of their signatures - Antican, Orion, Nausicaan and Flaxian - will be able to get out nor in. We're all going to have a little chat with him about the contraband behind the trouble. Commander Rabolon and Mister Dersch will be on hand to guard while we question him. Taja, can you come along and get a look at Commander Rabolon's legs while we're at it?"

She turned back and jogged a bit to catch up. She leaned over to Cloten and sneered. "Believe me, you furry little bastard, you have two tall crewmembers to deal with, and you don't want to screw with them."

She gestured between Rabolon next to him, and Torra in the distance to drive the point home. Cloten took note of their height, and then he looked back and forth between Torra's horns and gulped nervously.

[The Jackal]

Kinley nodded. Thanks for coming so quickly. "œ she said to Torra, eyeing Cloten and the others.

At Dersch's remarks, she had to agree with Nira on that effect. "œHold up, Mr. Dersch.  We may still need your  expertise at butt-kicking soon enough. she mentioned,  listening to the unfolding situation.  It seems like those administrators might not have told them everything just yet, and if the Orions were  in on it as well, there could be a lot more trouble.  "˜They've already left, haven't they?

Either way, there was a situation.  "œWe  will deal with these Administrators again,  for sure.  I'm more worried that the station will be under attack soon by the Orions.

  "˜This is Garrison to station ops. I'm placing the station on yellow alert.  Prepare for red alert and potential hostiles onboard." 

Torra blinked at the Commander Said's remark, confused as to what was going on, but one thing was clear the Antican that had been involved in the Melek Nor station was somehow also involve in illegal goings on here as well.   At Nira's comment that they ALL were going to have a chat with him, Torra opened her mouth to remind the her friend that she was supposed to be on duty up in Station Ops but Nira was had taken off to catch up with Kinley.

Torra found Nira's gestures back to her and the Antican's nervous between her and Rabolon to be rather telling.

A moment later Kinley's call to Station Ops to place the station on Yellow Alert was routed back to Torra's PADD - since the Grazerite was supposed to be up at Station Ops and had only intended to be away from her console for a couple of minutes to escort the civilian admin.   That had be 15 minutes ago now.

The Grazerite sighed, and from her PADD  - to which the Ops controls had been forwarded to-  Torra put the station at yellow alert.  She then called up an ensign to take over Station Ops for her since it seemed she was being called on to act as visual threat, before Torra followed dutifully behind the two Commanders.

[On route to Security offices]

It was only just then that Kinley noticed the various signals lighting up on some of the crates in here.  "œYou guys are seeing these lights, are you? Where did they come from?" They didn't look like bombs, but clearly, they were trapped in some fashion.  "œCan we get some analysis on them?  We may have to evacuate if they're rigged with bombs. "œ

She thought of the two doctors who were busy taking care of the injured Flaxian and others.  "œWill you be able to evacuate quickly if needed? "

[BEFORE HEADING TO THE SECURITY OFFICE...]

[Commander Nira Said | Restaurant and Upper Casino Level | The Jackal | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]
Nira looked around at Kinley's pointing out something....sure enough, one of the crates was flashing. She narrowed her eyes and tapped her comm badge.

"Said to Savar, get down her right away and bring along as many science officers as you can," she said. "There's something in some certain crates that are flashing something, we need you to check them over, see if there's nothing dangerous about them. Bring along some Engineering and Operations officers if there are any to spare."

"On my way," came Savar's answer. Nira looked back down at Cloten with a scowl. Once Torra joined them, she added, "Once we're finished talking with Cloten, Torra, I need you to get over to Savar and help him."

Cloten had been noticing, too. There was an all-too brief spasm of emotion that Nira caught, but it shut off before she could place what kind of emotion it was, he reacted too fast. Nonetheless, his reaction was significant, and Nira was determined to ask him about that once she and Rabolon were done questioning him about the crates.

No sooner had the started to leave, when Commander Garrison pointed out alert lights flashing on each of the crates.  The suggestion that they could be trapped with explosives, had Torra immediately grabbing for her tricorder to give them a thorough scan.   As she started this, Nira called on Savel to bring some Engineers and whatever spare Ops  to check it out.   Her orders were to continue with the prisoner.

The Grazerite, feeling that the potential threat of the crates was a higher priority almost refused, except that her initial scan of the first crate - didn't show an sign of explosive but rather a triggered signal.   Acquiescing to her Commander's orders, Torra forwarded the scan to Savel and continued following the others.

A moment later her PADD chimed.  It seemed her replacement at Ops was ready.  Torra released her lock on the Station Ops console but still kept the console details mirrored to her PADD.

-----------

[Commander Nira Said | Security Office | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira didn't like what she was hearing as she sat next to Kinley. Rabolon was seated at one side of the little furball while Taja looked him over. Dersch stood at the other side, and Torra stood at the door. She had satisfaction that threatening him to tell Commodore LaForge that a missing ship from the Fleet Museum can be found at New Jericho had, along with intimidation from two tall officers, made him tell everything.

"So," said Nira with a scowl. "This station is not as abandoned as we had realized."

"Just because it ain't abandoned does NOT mean we were taking it over and crewing it ourselves!" protested Cloten.

[...]

"And I had seen the administrators coming and going from there," Rabolon said. "I saw them go into that craphole when I started my shakedown. Cloten had some lookouts posing as workers in there, while I keep seeing people moving stuff about in the backrooms. Well, the administrators go in there. A moment later, I see them leave. When I get to the Jackal, they're all gone except for two of them, one of them the Flaxian I knocked out. And the moving in the back has increased the pace."

Nira narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in such a thin line. Then she looked at Kinley and said, "We're going to have to get down to New Jericho soon. The sooner, the better. Mister Roshard has a lot to answer about. Cloten will be confined here; the rest of his gang isn't going anywhere, not with them being trapped with forcefields around every entryway."

Looking up at Torra, she said, "Torra, you were escorting the administrators, how long were they at the Jackal before resuming back to the docking rings?"

As details were revealed Torra began to realize that she was far to trusting.  She never would have seen or been aware of any of what was going on.  It was a good thing she left behind her ambition of being in Sec/Tac years ago - she obviously wasn't cut out for it.

As it was Torra was still rather confused about the whole thing.  Still when asked about the administrators, Torra answered as best as possible.   "I'm sorry, I know I was supposed to escort them directly to the transporters... however they said they needed to use the Jackal's bathroom.  I thought it odd that they specified the Jackal's... but at the time I thought perhaps they also just wanted to sneak a drink to de-stress a little.  I waited out front.  They were in the back area - where I assumed the washroom's where... for 7 minutes.  I recall this clearly because I was watching the time closely since I hadn't called up a replacement to my station  at that time."

[Kinley Garrison]

[ The Jackal]

Listening to the story as she followed Nira, Kinley furrowed her brow. This story of Cloten's  seemed almost too farfetched to be true. He had to be lying.  Odds are, he was trying to give them a red herring to chase,  and this was the least of their concerns. Medical was in a state  of trouble too, with a very injured Flaxian on their hands. They couldn't move him, not very well, at least.  "Very well.  The flashing lights might be nothing, but stay ready if anything happens. "

She took a look at Torra as she gave her interpretation of things happening with the administrators. That wasn't good.  At least the bomb threat didn't seem like anything.  But where did these signals go to? "œThank you. So, it might be that, ."

[Meanwhile, just before the yellow alert ]

[Deck 12 hangar]

"œYou have permission to land."

"œThis is too easy "œ said Dez,  looking around at his fellow Orions. It seemed like the gig was up, and they needed their stuff back pronto. It was good while it lasted, he supposed.

Coming out of the freighter, Dez and his friends looked around at the Smugglers and Lindsey. "œHey, what's going on? Who tripped the alarms?" We need to get this cargo out now!

[Lindsey]

[Deck 12 hangar]

"œYou have permission to land."

"œThis is too easy "œ said Dez,  looking around at his fellow Orions. It seemed like the gig was up, and they needed their stuff back pronto. It was good while it lasted, he supposed.

Coming out of the freighter, Dez and his friends looked around at the Smugglers and Lindsey. "œHey, what's going on? Who tripped the alarms?" We need to get this cargo out now!

The sound of the engines cut through Lindsey's annoyance at the flashing.  Engines?  Engines equals a ship of some sort.  Arriving engines suggested less of a threat.
No Boom.  Boom tomorrow, always boom tomorrow..
she poked her head round to look at the freighter, its short wide configuration suggesting that manoeuvrability was more important than carrying capacity.
I've seen that design somewhere before I'm sure.  Where is that class from?
However before she could dredge the origins from her own distorted history - the green skins of the Orions came into view.
think fast, think fast...
She stood and met the faces of both the smugglers and the Orions
No time to explain, the alarms was my accident, Starfleet are coming.  Where do you want these crates stowed?
She picked up a crate to show willing and looked expectantly.

Stick that one over there Answered Dez - only to be interrupted by one of the others
She's not with us!
Yeah I am, I clean up after hours in the Jackal She lied
Not seen you before.  Who's the boss?
That would be.. Jess? She said, trying a random name on the million to one chance that it might be correct
Thought so.  Nab her!
I'm kidding, just kidding, no harm - but it didn't work.  A larger tougher (and smellier) person grabbed her from behind and pinned her
Name? they asked, with an edge to their voice.
Sophie Pullings, or just Soph.  I know many backways on this station and don't give a crap about starfleet
I dont buy it.  you're staying right here while I decide what to do with you

[Nira Said]

[Commander Nira Said | Security Office | Promenade | Deck Ten | Outpost Solaere]

Nira pursed her lips when Torra mentioned how long the administrators were. "Seven minutes. They'd easily pass off that they were taking, to coin the Terran expression, a 'number two.' Given Rabolon's description of the behavior within, they weren't heading to the bathroom. They were coming to see Cloten, and potentially telling him to hurry up. Am I right, you furry little bastard?"

"You wanted me to ask about the cache, I got you the details," snapped Cloten. "The hell I'd give away confidentiality of customers and clientele. You'll have to find out for yourself."

Nira scowled. Cloten wasn't going to say more. What was further frustrating was the amount of skepticism she was feeling all around, but it was to be expected; there was no further proof. Not as of yet. She turned back to Torra and looked at her with a comforting smile.

"Okay, then, enjoy your cell," said Nira, looking at Rabolon, who promptly nodded.

"Mister Dersch, let's escort the furball to his cell," he said. "We'll call you if he feels more inclined to talk, Commanders," he added to Kinley. "And I'll send what security forces I can to contain that freighter dock."

"Of course," said Nira, looking between Kinley and Torra and Taja. "I think we'd best get back to our respective departments while we think over this story; Torra, help Savar and his officers with those flashing devices, report in once your analyses of the devices are complete. Shall we head back to Ops, Kinley?"

[Commander Nira Said | Operations Center >- First Officer's Ready Room | Deck One | Outpost Solaere]

No sooner had Nira and Kinley returned than she saw Sehila, the chief flight officer, approach while Ensign Devereaux looked up. "Report, Lieutenant," said Nira.

"We have our first freighter docking, Commanders," Sehila said. "Orion Freighter, at Freighter Dock Six."

Nira turned so pale, her skin would've matched the pigmentation of a Reman if it could. It had occurred to her that Ops didn't know what was going on, what had just happened...

"Good Allah...there were smugglers down there, they were sorting contraband," Nira explained. "That freighter...Sehila, pilot a runabout to Freighter Dock Six, make sure the Orions do not leave! Ensign Ch'ishrelnin, man the station in her stead. Ensign Devereaux," she added, looking at Torra's underling, "don't worry, Lieutenant Addams will be up here soon. I'll be in my ready room."

Upon settling into her office - after getting over her surprise and reflecting that this was a lot bigger than the offices she worked in the past - she got to her desk. As much as her colleagues didn't believe Cloten, Nira knew better. The fact that Ciden was a backwater, there were bound to be secrets, and not just related to Romulans.

"Computer, pull up files of senior and command officers and department heads who had served at former Outpost Seven in the ten years leading up to the start of the Dominion War, along with files about the administrators of New Jericho."

The computer worked and Nira waited. While she waited, she decided to assess how many thugs were contained in the dock.

"Computer, identify complement in Freighter Dock Six."

"There are 22 Orions, 19 Nausicaans, 16 Anticans, 9 Flaxians and 1 human in Freighter Dock Six."

What? One human? But...

Nira cursed her specific containment force field, but it was an intended guarantee to keep in the goons as she was fleeing. But on the other hand, now that the criminal element of the station was manifesting itself, or gradually being revealed, it meant more people were bound to come out. Or somebody shifty took advantage of her force field.