JDL | CIO (Vindi), CIO | CDR Archer, LCDR Stacker | "All Roads Lead To ..."

Posted on Sun Apr 15th, 2018 @ 7:23pm by Commander James Stacker & Commodore Rochelle Ivanova

Mission: Lacuna
Location: Deck 681 | Cold Station Theta
Timeline: SD 241804.15

Rochelle's 'gift' weighed heavy on James' mind even though he was light of foot walking masterfully through the bowels of the station. intel was Intel, no matter where he went, the doors would always open. That feeling, in the wrong hands, often lead to a thirst for power and a mind towards corruption, but with James it was business as usual. This time, however, with a piece of the puzzle analyzed and ready that came from her...

And she denied him her sources.

There were no records of those sources.

Just evidence. Empirical, solid, tangible scientific evidence.

... And coordinates that checked out to some old station long since believed to be defunct.

What Rochelle had done to get such information was what scared him the most, or rather the thought of what she'd done... May have done. What part of her soul had she sold to get that across? Looking her over she'd seemed so tired and frail, worn out and spent. But there was that glimmer of fire in her eyes that told him that she was very much alive and in no threat of burning out. Not now. That had been why he'd removed her reading glasses and pressed a kiss to her forehead, demanded she sleep, and agreed to do this for her without question or further argument. At the end of the day, James Archer knew he'd do anything to keep her alive and working well, even if it meant launching operations designed to burn those who had hurt her.

These assholes had hurt her.

"Well if it isn't the other James." He announced, holding his arms out wide with a smile plastered across his face. It was a loud greeting, enough to gain attention from just about everyone in the bay. Didn't matter what the other operative was doing, he was going to be doing something else entirely and it was a hell of a lot more important than whatever he'd been doing before. An arm hooked around the former Marine's shoulders, "How ya doing, buddy? Good? Great. Let's go take a walk because we need to talk." He nodded, locking eyes with the other man, "Now. Very important. Level of one to ten? fifteen thousand. Important."

There was no evident sign of surprise on Stacker's face. Just deeper lines of weariness around his eyes, but those didn't come from the present moment in time. Judging by the lack of surprise, it might be possible to surmise that he'd expected his counterpart from the Vindicator. Which he had, but he wasn't about to say as much. The quarterdeck watch down by the turbolifts reported to him, after all. So he let himself be steered towards the deserted corridor outside the bay, feeling slightly bemused all the while even as he exchanged a glance with Warrant Parsuv - who tactfully remained behind as the heavy door slammed shut behind them, centerpiece twisting into the locked position.

"What's on your mind, Commander?" he asked as he quirked an eyebrow at the man beside him.

"A few things, actually. Like how a peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream would hit the spot right about now." He shook his head, departing from the touchy feely company and looked down at the PADD in his head, "Anyway. What I plan to do for dessert isn't why I came all the way over here. Commodore Ivanova received information and presented it to me. Our assets are being prepped for auction at an old station set up on an asteroid not all that far from here, actually. It is run by the Orion syndicate but seems to be a catch all for other crime families bringing high end goods for the event. Black tie scum fest." He continued, turning on the PADD and displaying the coordinates and handing ti over to Stacker to view.

"But wait! That's not all that she put under the tree for us, Jimmy boy," He grinned, thumbing down to the specs of a ship, "Behold the Carlotta. She docked here two days before the kidnappings with a hold full of exotic food stuffs, spices, live cargo for the Klingon restaurants, fabrics, and supplies meant for construction of another shop on the promenade. She left just before the first sweep, didn't pick up anything but mundane crap. She's old. She's a shit heap. She's going to fall apart... Actually..." Thumbing down further, he tapped the PADD, "She has. The information came off part of one of her re-entry heat shields. She's atmospheric travel capable." He nodded, "That ship has been found headed straight for that asteroid. They'll be there sometime in the next two hours."

Stacker tapped the back of a finger against the display. It was a thoughtful gesture, as his eyes moved in small twitches, soaking in what he was seeing. After a minute or two of this he nodded at something in particular - just what exactly wasn't clear. "This makes sense. Several months ago one of our assets vanished from the Brielle system," he said, glancing up from the electronic device. He was keenly aware, right now, just how frail it was in his hands. He might well snap it if he tightened his grip any more: he had to restrain himself from an urge to throttle the innocent piece of assembled components.

"It's not terribly far away from this station. We never identified what caused him to rabbit, but we do know that he had ties to criminal groups operating in the border regions. His case agent - his murdered case agent - also had an excessive amount of interest in asteroid colonies. Which wasn't a part of his mission brief." His eyes narrowed in thought, mouth opening as if to say something, then closing. Then he spoke again, gesturing with a corner of the device at his counterpart. "I'll have to have some words with someone, see if he knew anything about this. But that's for another time."

"A whole other time... Sometime after we retrieve our respective assets and get back to normalsville. If you have a medic you want to bring, might be a genius idea. I'm not taking the guy from the Vindicator, he's good but he needs to stay just in case there's a problem while we're gone." James postured, folding his arms as he thought, "I don't know what shape we're going to find them in. The Lieutenant is pregnant, that makes things even more dicey, and the Commander is a Vorta. Small wonder she's even still alive considering what they're marketing her for." He almost shuddered at the thought, the chill of disdain and worry crawling along his spine. "Vindicator is going to brief in a couple hours. Should give you time to assemble what you need to assemble and then we move before it's too late."

There it was again: that flicker of hopelessness and despair. Just what condition would he find her in? Would she be crippled with injuries? Scars that refused to heal? Sold before- Not now he told himself, squashing the rising tide under a mental combat boot. "I'll arrange to have medical facilities close at-hand, for the back side of the operation," he said with a tone of assurance that was more verbal than felt internally. That yawning pit still loomed, even if it was receding. "I'll see what I can dig up for the ground team. Should be able to scrape something together." He knew his own medical training was limited: he'd been a heavy-weapons gunner, not a medic. Digging around in someone's guts just hadn't appealed to him.

Nodding along to all of it with an appreciative hum, Archer only paused at the end and held up a finger, curling his fingers until all but the index had folded against his palm. It shook slowly, "There's just one thing, one... Little thing, and here's where it gets real interesting." He chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "Our orders are to bring the station to the ground. Those responsible are to be disposed of. Something tells me that you won't take issue with this... Will you?"

Stacker crossed his arms, jaw set and head tilted slightly. It took a moment to get the words out, and not because of any great sense of reluctance on his part. "I'll push the button myself."

"Done deal." Archer reached to pat the other operative on the shoulder, "You can keep that PADD, I have my own back on the ship. Get your people together and expect to depart at twenty-three hundred." It wasn't a negotiable variable. They were leaving no later than the top of that late hour. Archer himself was already beginning to drift away, headed back to Rochelle and the crew waiting for answers.

"Understood."

---

Commander James Archer
Chief Intel Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170