PLOT - JDL | CO, CIO | CAPT DiAgessi, LCDR Stacker | "Cold"

Posted on Thu Mar 15th, 2018 @ 5:34pm by Captain Aine DiAgessi & Commander James Stacker

Mission: Lacuna
Location: Operations Level | Deck 1 | Cold Station Theta
Timeline: The Present.

Hours after the first report, he rode the lift up from his domain in silence, standing like some statue in the center of the otherwise-empty car. Practiced hands had found and pulled on his best working uniform, for this occasion. It was a good uniform: solid, crisp, precise. Seams not yet fraying and colors still alive, instead of faded by the passage of time. And he knew that he hadn't focused on the unconscious decision when he was donning it: only when he was standing in the car had he looked down and recognized the choice for what it was. Despite how poor of a report he was about to make, he was able to take comfort in this small little thing.

At least he was able to keep going. For now.

Practiced eyes looked at the wall, seeing what it saw in the reflection on the metal. The picture-perfect Starfleet officer. Uniform on correctly, hair combed, beard and mustache trimmed. It was only on closer inspection that the differences showed. The deepened lines around his eyes, brought out by lack of sleep. A haggard look, brought out by similar circumstances and only masked with difficulty. Even now his mind screamed at him for sleep, yet he knew that if he went to lie down it would only come with great difficulty. Last night had not been an especially pleasant experience. Almost as if it was an omen.

He sighed and turned back to face the door as the car dinged and signaled its arrival, doors whisking open to reveal operations.

Something felt strange that morning. A miss. Hurt. Aine couldn't exactly put her finger on that nagging tug at the corner of her mind, but it didn't stop her from doing what had to be done. Report after report came in, starting with Engineering, that all systems were running better than functional and all that remained missing were those from Medical, Security, and Intelligence.

Odd. Considering they were often the first in.

The second clue that something was horribly wrong was the sudden appearance of the Chief Ghost in Operations. She'd paused mid-sentence about the approval of a new Ferengi run 'arcade' when she saw him. While Stacker was always tough to the point of being trite, he was never so -- again, she couldn't put a finger on the word for it.

Excusing herself from the conversation, she found herself meeting him head on and halfway between the lifts and her lofted office, "Good morning, Commander, bringing me your report in person?" She asked, offering a polite smile, "To what honor do I owe?" Of course she was ribbing him, trying to ignore that constantly niggling feeling that something was terribly amiss.

The attempt at humor died at arrival. Of course his mouth gave a slight curve in response, but to both of them it was forced and artificial. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. "We need to speak in private ma'am. I'm -" there was a hitch in his voice, and he briefly paused. When he resumed, it was as if it had never been there. He was calm and collected on the outside. Inwardly ... inwardly it was still a different story. He'd thought that coming to Operations might put his sense of duty front and foremost. It seemed that that had been a miscalculation. "I'm afraid we have a sensitive matter to discuss."

Aine's mouth opened in a soundless "Oh" accompanied by quick nod and a gesture for him to follow her back to her office. The silence between them was uncomfortable, and glad to be released once the door slid shut behind them. Something had gone horribly wrong, the what of it had shaken a man with the same tenacity as one of those black fighting bulls she'd listened to her father go on and on about when she was a child; the kind that enjoyed the sight and taste of blood and flesh of those who poked and fought them. "Alright... What are we dealing with?" She asked. Was it a 'We' situation? Of course it was a 'we' situation. She'd have asked 'who died?' if she hadn't been completely certain it would have been completely insensitive and there was still hope that no one had expired.

She would never know how grateful he felt in that particular moment. That singular sentence gave him stability and something to latch onto. He took it, went with it, and did what he did best. "Sometime during the night, Commander Valeese disappeared off the station. We - Intelligence," he corrected, slipping unconsciously into a full-on briefing mode, hands clasped to his front and looking levelly at the CO, "believe that she was abducted. Security and intelligence are looking into it."

"Abducted?" The skipper's knees felt more than a little weak at the idea of someone being snatched, "That's two in less than twenty-four hours." Somehow it was better when it wasn't one of their own, when it was a member of a ship that came and went. Now their own family had been hit and from it pulled one of their most unique and wildly faceted members. Clearing her throat she found her seat and gestured for the man to do the same, better to sit down and hash it out than risk injury or the inability to conceal emotions during a time when strength needed to be completely conveyed.

"Lieutenant Si'a Dai'xun, Stellar Cartographer... She was taken off the Promenade around dinner time last night." She continued, sliding the appropriate PADD over, "Vindicator Security and Intelligence is working on it on their end, they should have sent over a request to work with your department because more minds, more eyes..." She paused, "You get the idea. Where was Commander Valeese last seen?" Now came the important questions. "Has anyone been to her quarters to see if anything is missing?" The hint that she could have fled on her own volition was there, but the little voice in the back of Aine's head said 'not likely.'. Valeese was stuck to the station, and her patients and the arboretum project, like glue. Super glue. Another look at the way the man held himself, rigid and overly composed, told her something deeper hid beneath that picture perfect surface. Personal? Who cares. If it was personal then this was a worst case scenario in many many ways. "I ask because sweeps and extensive vessel inspections haven't turned up hide nor hair of Dai'xun and reports, so far, are that the cameras have been tampered with, erasing critical footage of the abduction. We have little to go by, and if these are related it's only going to make the situation that much more dire." Wait... Wait for his reaction.

"I need you to be transparent with me on this. Tell me what you know."

"Her quarters have already been inspected, and found untouched," he said, even though he was still eyeing the device and the contents on the screen. His eyes glanced up at her as he switched it off and slid it into the holster worn around his thigh. The one that already carried several such devices, and could fit several more. "I personally put a security seal on the door to preserve her effects and belongings. All evidence points to a physical altercation and abduction from a low-security area outside the arboretum, during a low-traffic time. DNA - someone else's, not hers - has been recovered: it's being processed now. The cameras for that section are also being checked." He paused, jaw working for a moment as if grinding up glass. "My gut instinct tells me this was a professional operation. This was not amateur hour."

"That's the general feel from Vindicator's Intelligence as well." And everything Aine didn't want to hear. No CO did. Somehow they'd been the scene of two crimes, both abductions, and only one had left something behind. Leave it to a Vorta to toss out a gingerbread crumb. The only problem was that they would have to cross everything and hold their breath hoping that the little crumb left revealed a whole hidden trail that wasn't cold. "Thank you for taking the initiative on sealing her quarters..." She sighed. At least there was that.

The next time she looked up her eyes locked with his, "Do you think this has anything to do with the Bajoran that attacked her?" She had to ask and try connect any dots possible. Rolodex time! Her mind was running a mile a minute trying to think of anyone else that had displayed uniquely anti-Vorta sentiments. The Engineer had been less than charmed by her, news of a brief dust up in the library had had reached her ears but neither had reported the other.

Was Thelin capable? More than so. Would he? Absolutely not. Besides... There was no connection to the Stenellis. They hadn't been in the same place, no chance of either one witnessing the other's kidnapping. If ever the young Captain wanted to punch a bulkhead, the time was now. She was a scientist and operations specialist by nature, not security or intel.

It was something that had been looked at already, but he wouldn't deign to be condescending to a superior who was - quite possibly - out of her depth. In truth he had expected this meeting to go far more badly than it was, and for that he was thankful. He found himself thoughtfully eyeing the front of her desk before responding. "I don't believe so. The possibility is there, but my instincts tell me 'no.' The -" he hesitated to call it a 'crime scene,' which was really what it had become in the time since discovery, complete with caution holographs and Starfleet security personnel, "site of the abduction has that level of visceral feel to it, but considerable resources were put towards this. The Bajoran does not appear to be that well-connected."

He shifted in the chair as a muscle twinged in momentary discomfort. "Intelligence is examining, though, whether this was political in nature. There are a number of groups out there who hate the Vorta for their Dominion connection. They may not care about the commander's background - her being from the free colony, that is. To them, she could be an easy target."

"Neither connect the dots to Lieutenant Dai'xun either, though." The Captain sighed through tense lips, "Many may hate the Vorta, target them, but why grab the Lieutenant? And why grab her first?" The question demanded answer, and while out of her league entirely, Aine felt the need to wave that flag and at least prove to be a bit useful in some capacity, "I mean it's highly unlikely that they're not connected. If it's politically driven, then what links them?" She asked, drumming her fingers across the wooden desk top, "The only answers I can find are the obvious ones; they're both women, both young, both knock outs, and both exotic species. We're in outlaw space, the Federation isn't exactly liked. Maybe this is a message to us all after the attack on Admiral Red was a failure?" But a group took instant claim to fame for the act that landed her mother in sick bay for the better part of two months. Unless she wasn't being told something, so far no one had come forward to claim responsibility for the kidnappings. In truth she was drowning, grasping at straws, and praying the Ghost could pull something from the darkness that would shed light on on something of value when it came to finding Valeese and the little Stenellis.

The only thing he could say was the thing that brought him the absolute least comfort. There was a very clear part of him that wanted to engage in the cyclical logic - debate, endless speculation, dialogue - in hopes that something would come to light. He'd seen it, done it, been part of it before. Sometimes it was productive ... when there was more to go on. And the CO did have some good points: he could certainly agree, in a less-than-professional manner, that Val was, had been - No. Stop that. The urge to wander away, down a very dark path, was suddenly all-too-real and he had to stomp on temptation very firmly. He masked his momentary discomfort with a cough behind his hand.

"I think you have some good points, ma'am, but at the moment I think we have to wait. Intelligence and security are working leads, and we're actively hunting the commander - and soon the lieutenant, too. But we have only a finite amount of resources, and with respect we're hunting through a very deep ocean. This will take time." The last was added with obvious distaste. His own thoughts on the necessity of waiting and having patience didn't need to be said.

"Which we don't have." She regretted the sentence as soon as it departed her lips on a b-line one way flight to his ears, and undoubtedly his psyche. Damage done. Mid-ship hit. An unintentional way to making the poor bastard take on water without doubt. Why? Remained to be seen. She had guesses, but those guesses weren't to be made out loud. Ever. Not her business. "What I mean is that we have 48 hours to find her or the case is already considered cold... I'm going to reach out to the Vindicator's team, see what resources they have. Can I trust on you to play well with others, Commander? At least until we've found them?" Asking someone to readily let others, strangers no less, tap dance all over their work and stick noses and fingers in it was a lot to ask of anyone, and here she was unable to compel herself not to. They needed all the help they could get.

"Ma'am, my team may have some greenhorns but we have more than a few veterans: we know the 48-hour rule. Whatever help we can get, we'll take." It was the professional response. The polite one that was called for, even as he tamped down the urge to bristle at the notion that his team wasn't up to the challenge of connecting the dots. He knew why he wanted to bristle, of course. It was the same thing that plagued all department heads when faced with a challenge: the desire for themselves, and their teams, to prove themselves to leadership. That he could step back and look at this objectively proved, at least for now, that his head was still mounted correctly. At least for the next five minutes. He willed his finger to stop its incessant slow tapping on an arm of the chair.

Aine nodded appreciatively, knowing how important it was that they succeed and place things like pride and honor aside to do so. "I trust you." She offered as a bit of a white flag, the honesty cutting through to set diligently at the surface of the statement, "And I won't keep you any longer, Commander. Just stand by for a meeting and please keep me in the loop?"

"Of course ma'am."

---

Captain Aine DiAgessi
Commanding Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Cheif Intelligence Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170