Questions & Answers

[DrDMatthews 0]

Brought to you by: Debbie Matthews, Kat Shawnsee and "Ranger" (Arch Angel) with input from Takhoma (Merina)

 

 

"Crazies?" The term struck Debbie as odd. She studied the one called Ranger for several seconds, her right hand resting on the Fleet jacket lying on the conference table.

 

       Of their three "guests," he seemed the most willing to cooperate. His buddy, Trank, flatly denied ever seeing anyone in a Starfleet uniform anywhere on the planet, including the now abandoned compound.

 

       The only female in the group, Takhoma, claimed she'd seen others wearing similar clothing but she never gave it much thought. She'd been in the Maquis before arriving on the planet. She wasn't familiar with such uniforms. Debbie thought that was highly unlikely. Quite a few Starfleet personnel defected to the Maquis. It was highly unlikely the young woman had never seen one of their uniforms. If nothing else, Takhoma would have been taught what those uniforms looked like. After all, Starfleet was an enemy of the Maquis.

      

       Kat listened to what was being said. Her ears perked when she hear Takhoma say something about the Maquis. If this was a person from the Maquis, how did she get to the planet?  What happened to the rest of her crew? Where was her ship? Who was she if Takhoma was not her real name? When did she get here? Why didn't she try to escape? Everything was running through her mind quickly but too fast to even ask as Deb continued with questions of her own.

 

       Kat stood back with her hand on her phaser hoping they didn't make her pull it and use it.

 

       She was about to question the woman further when Ranger came right out and admitted the jacket looked familiar. He'd seen them many times. They were worn by some of those kept on the compound as forced laborers. "Forced laborers," thought Deb, her temper flaring. "That's just a polite term for slaves."

 

        Then Ranger referred to them as "crazies or loonies." "Why would you call them crazies?" she finally asked. "What did they do or say to make you think they were crazy?"

 

       "They behaved irrationally, did crazy things," answered the injured man. "It was the drugs."

 

       Debbie glanced at Kat Shawnsee who was standing at the far end of the table. Then she returned her attention to Ranger while his two cohorts busied themselves with their soup and sandwich.

 

       "Why were they drugged?" demanded the Doctor.

      

       Ranger took a spoonful of soup before looking at Debbie. "They were criminals," he said flatly. "Or that's what we were told. It's standard operating procedure to drug criminals used as laborers. The drugs allow them to function but they inhibit any hostile tendicies....make the prisoners easier to control."

 

       "Of course they do," snapped Debbie.

 

       "I assure you," continued Ranger. "My team and I had nothing to do with that. The prisoners or laborers, which ever you choose to call them, were already on the planet before we arrived." He looked the Doctor in the eye. "You must understand, we were contracted to provide security. That is all we were contracted to do. There was a lot going on we knew nothing about."

 

       "And you never questioned why these laborers were needed?" asked Debbie incredulously.

 

       Ranger shook his head. "I never had reason to. I trusted my employers and assumed we were working for a legitimate operation. It wasn't until my former good friend tried to kill me that I figured out they were probably involved in something illegal."

 

       Matthews didn't know whether or not to believe the man. This one, Ranger, seemed to grasp the severity of their situation. He knew cooperation was their best option.  But could he be trusted? Could they believe a word he said.

 

      "And exactly who was in charge of this....operation," she asked without looking up.

 

       Ranger answered immediately. "Vel Satis was in charge. I answered to his right hand man, HD. He was a good friend until he betrayed me.

 

       Debbie pushed back her chair and stood. "Do you know where the prisoners are now?"

 

       "I assume they're on that ship we're pursuing," he replied with a shrug. "Along with other things you're looking for." He paused and followed her as she walked around the table. "You have the information you need. It was in the black box I turned over to you when we first arrived on your runabout. That black box will tell you where Satis and his cronies are going as well as details about their cargo."

 

       He shook his head and frowned, "But be warned, Doctor. I believe from what I have heard.....someone in your own Starfleet is involved in this venture up to their neck."

 

       Ranger wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. For over four years, Debbie and a handful of others on the Reaent had strongly suspected there were traitors holding sensitive positions within Starfleet Command. But she had no intention of sharing that suspicion with this motley group.

 

       Instead, she attempted to show disinterest in the black box. "There is a team working on that black box" she replied nonchalantly. "As to who is involved with what.....that remains to be seen."

 

       She held up the jacket once owned by Lt. Ian Montgomery, a Planetary Science Specialist who was last posted to the USS Cairo, NCC-42136-A. "You're absolutely certain you saw....laborers wearing uniforms like this?"

 

       Ranger nodded. "I have seen that particular type of attire before, sometimes in the compound, loading, off loading cargo and in the private shuttles of Vertis and "His" mystery company. Again, keep in mind there were certain functions neither I nor my team were not privy to"

 

       Debbie folded the jacket and carefully draped it over her arm. "I need you to tell me something....is it possible some of these people could have wandered away from your boss? Could they have made it to the tarmac near where our runabout was parked?"

 

        "Oh...you speak of the homeless loons...ah, yes," said Ranger with a nod. "It appears they were part of that group of criminals, contracted for labor.  They did have moderate freedoms, but were under constant surveillance. I know for a fact they were drugged heavily, sedated if you will, to suppress their hostile instincts. That was the explanation given to me upon my own query. I did ask why they, if criminals, were allowed to wander a bit...my answer was, where were they to go...and they are drugged to subdue their aggressive or criminal tendencies."

 

        Ranger looked up and smiled. "As a matter of fact, I saw one of those jackets in town before that scum bag shot me....on one of the loonies dancing around a drum fire. You remember do you not?

 

       Debbie's heart sank. Could those dancers have been kidnapped Starfleet officers? They certainly didn't look like it. But who knew how long they'd been held prisoner. Or how many drugs they'd been given to alter their personalities. Maybe they were nothing more than common criminals who had been sent to Vel Satis as laborers. She felt her temper rising yet again.

 

       "And you accepted their word that these people were criminals with hostile instincts?" The question was redundant but Debbie had to ask. "You never wondered why your boss had so many criminals on his compound?"

 

       Well, Doc," said Ranger with a sigh, "It is common place in the outer worlds to get cheap criminal labor then hire whatever security staff you need. As for keeping the criminals in line, they use drugs and many other ways to keep them passive. Given a choice of mining Borite or Dilithium crystals for the remainder of their lives in a penal colony such as Rurapente and die a slow painful death many gladly choose to go to another planet, be fed, cared for as well as drugged. They have to work but they also have minimal freedom.

      

       Debbie had heard enough. "Thank you for the information," she said curtly. "Enjoy your lunch and while you're at it, I suggest if you believe in a deity, you start praying we're able to board that ship we're pursuing....and find what we're looking for. Otherwise, your lives may change in a most unpleasant way.

 

       As she passed Kat Shawnsee on her way out of the room, she paused and whispered in her ear. "Keep a close eye on them and see if you can find out why the one called Trank claims he never saw anybody in one of these uniforms. While you're at it, ask the girl