JL | Commo Ivanova, Kalina Zett | "Bearing Gifts" pt 1/2

Posted on Sat Apr 14th, 2018 @ 4:14pm by Commodore Rochelle Ivanova

Mission: Lacuna

"Engines are at full stop. Cloak operational. We're at the deadzone."

Kaline Zett watched the viewscreen at the bridge, nodding thoughtfully at the report from her Operations man. The "deadzone" was what the Bristol's sensors approximated was the best place to stand, at a distance, from the shadow of the station so that their presence -- cloaked or not -- will trigger no alarms.

It wasn't fool-proof, but it was damn close. It was, also, the best place to stage either a stand-off, or an escape, in case they are spotted, and are facing an unfriendly welcome. The odds of this was pretty slim; Starfleet may not like their organization, but so far, had no actual reason to treat them as enemies -- but Zett was never a trusting creature. It was always safest for the contingency plans to have contingency plans.

"Alright, well, I guess it's time to announce ourselves to the Commodore. Send an encrypted message. Let's see if we get an audience."

Stokes, who stood at the Operations console, nodded, tapped on his screens, and waited for the Communications specialist to send the message.

"Do you think she'll bite?" he ventured at Zett, his eyes still on the lit console, but his smile dripping with irony. There was no special love for Starfleet on this vessel, and there was no hiding it when Dani wasn't around.

"She probably will," Zett stretched, cracking the joints in her neck, "her people are in danger, that usually makes Starfleet officers extra hopeful for any opportunity for help. Also, we're friends, remember? Starfleet likes friends."

Stokes snorted a chuckle. "Aren't they lucky."

"They are. And we don't judge our friends by the pajama they wear." Zett chuckled. "Now stop being so sarcastic, Jason, you're making me look like the friendly one. I won't have that."

"Aye aye, Captain." Jason Stokes smiled, and returned his full attention to his console, setting up an array of passive scans as to not alert the station's sensors.

---

Sneaking off like some indulgent brat had never quite been Rochelle's forte. She'd never been one for cloak and dagger routines that left more questions than answers - and with the ship still at Yellow Alert, Almar hypersensitive, she was left with no choice but to do this... Alone.

It broke promises she'd made to the tune of not running off or going this on her lonesome... Not doing something rash. Visiting Zett aboard her ship was hardly any of those things... At least that's what she kept telling herself as she waited for a signal, received it, and sent one of her own. It said, quite simply, 'I'm ready' and it didn't take long for them to work their magic and pluck the pale creature from her nest, leaving her to re-materialize before them while still battling the fatigue that had put her down so hard earlier that day... Or was it yesterday? "Zett." The pale one greeted with a nod.

"Commo...dore..." The word stuck in Zett's mouth like chalk, dying off at the end with a furrow of her brows. She stood in front of her desk, ready to greet the woman she was warned was a firestorm bundled inside Starfleet uniforms, ready to provide the news Dani had sent her here for, with as much tact as she could muster... And yet, instead, the firestorm was dim, pale, exhausted. Zett looked at her carefully, her eyes softening by sheer instinct, as if biology dictated one must sympathize, even if one doesn't know how.

"Please, have a seat," the Trill gestured at the plush couch at the corner. It seemed she underestimated how strongly these bad news have affected the woman. Either that, or there was something much deeper going on. Whatever was the cause, it was not for this meeting. Dani might have asked. Demanded, possibly. Zett would not.

"I appreciate you taking the time to meet," she nodded, still examining the woman carefully, trying to draw on what Dani would've done. Friendly meetings were not something Kalina Zett had much experience in.

"Could I offer you a drink? I hear you're partial to Earth's tea. We have a wide variety we could freshly brew for you, if you'd like a cup."

"A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you." Rochelle nodded politely as she took the offered seat. It felt good to sit where normally she'd have been all too happy to stand, folded arms, and waiting for the other shoe to fall. Being vulnerable in a foreign place wasn't exactly the brightest of ideas, but the thought that this ship belonged - at least in part - to Dani softened her choices and allowed her to lower her guard. Her eyes, however, still watched Zett with a mix of fascination and skepticism - not precisely wary, but curious and hawk-like. Not that there was much she could have done to protect herself from the scrappy Trill who, admittedly, was in top form. "I still owe you and Dani for the supply you gifted me." She sighed a soft laugh, remembering Dani's visit and the hours she'd spent with Ra'lin cataloging each different type, "It's done a lot of spirit lifting, truly." Ice broken, tone sent. Rochelle wasn't here to fight, she was here to learn and to solve. Andrea would likely have had a stroke if she'd seen it happen first hand.

"Heh, owe," Zett chuckled, and walked to the corner sofa at the other side of the small tea table. For a brief moment, her brain prepared a poison retort, a gloat, some line in the game of power that usually accompanies conversastions and negotiations in her line of work.

But this was not someone in her line of work. This was Dani's friend. Dani's close friend, who, it seemed, felt comfortable enough to shed at least some of her own guard in her presence. In Zett's universe, this was a sign of fatal weakness, but in Dani's, it seemed to have been a strength. She should, at the very least, try to do the same.

"In the grand scheme of the things Starfleet owes us, Commodore, I think I'll put those under 'charitable donations' to a good cause. Non binding, of course." She sat, and smiled, a little lopsided, amused at her own wit, that came without -- or so she hoped -- too much condescension. "I might have to charge you for this cup, though," her smile shifted to touch her eyes, finally breaking some of the exterior sarcastic deadliness that she's normally have used. Dani's advice came to her mind; friendly jokes are sarcasm, but without the poison. Okay. She can practice.

A rumble of a chuckle shook Rochelle's shoulders gently and she shrugged, "Fair is fair, now isn't it?" She asked, once more resting her hands in her lap. Without her uniform, Rochelle seemed ten times smaller. Without her hair swept up in its usual savage twist, she appeared ten years younger. It was easy to underestimate the woman, she knew, but Kalina Zett was no fool. "You were wise to say what you did," She offered, switching from pleasantries on into business as she watched the woman steep their tea.

"I've had suspicions about the depth this particular portion of Shit's Creek for awhile. Too clean, missing security footage... At least when it came to the Lieutenant's abduction. The Commander's abduction was more sloppy... An afterthought maybe." Her eyes narrowed briefly in thought, "Doesn't matter, I suppose. Either way they've vanished without much of a trace and now the station has had an issue with one of its older, barely used areas suffering an explosion. Were I paranoid, I'd say we were being distracted... I think you have at least part of the answers..." She smiled shrewdly, "If not, you wouldn't have come allllll the way out here just for tea, and certainly not without Dani."

"It matters," Zett nodded, relaxing into her portion of the sofa, examining the woman in front of her with interest. The observations she's pointed out were spot-on, in the Trill's mind, and served to approve Dani's deep trust in the woman. Not just another Starfleet automaton, after all, Zett mused. She was about to continue, but the door opened, and her assistant slid in, holding two steaming cups. The tea was placed, neatly, in front of Rochelle, while Zett wrapped her fingers around the steaming mug of cinammon-infused hot cocoa. Dani's drink. The more reminders of Dani to ground her, the better.

Zett nodded to her assistant, a meaningful nod, and the woman shook her head affirmatively back, and then left, as quietly and quickly as she had come.

"We're cloaked, so our shields are down, but this room was just surrounded by a dampening field. We can talk freely now." She noted, blowing on her cup. "You know, it's funny. When I heard about the abduction, my first thought was that I should tell my assistant to cancel whatever plans we have for the next few weeks, since it was pretty obvious Dani, at least, was going to drop everything and come to your rescue," she smiled at Rochelle, almost accusingly, but there was no malice in her eyes, only curiosity.

"My second thought, was that it looks like an inside job. Or, at least, it looks like someone on the inside helped with the details. It's what I'd have done, really. Kindapping a Starfleet officer is a ballsy move, but doing it right -- you'd need someone with the right kind of information. Perhaps even the right kind of access. Depending on the details of the kidnapping, that person may be more than just one. What's funny, though," she blew another breath on her steaming mug, her lips twisting to a lopsided smile that echoed her partner's, her eyes softening, but amused curiosity still swam in them as she examined Rochelle's reaction, "is that Dani, the Starfleet-true-believer, agreed."

It was Rochelle's turn. Her head shook once, her lips curving into a sardonic smile of her own and she found herself more than amused, and hardly surprised, by what was laid out in front of her. "Dani appreciates a good puzzle. She's an Engineer by trade and it shows. Intel... Now there's a place she'd have done well, but she'd have been bored out of her fucking mind." The redhead chuckled, gathering up her tea and gingerly taking a sip of the scalding liquid. While it burned all the way down, it was soothing and refreshing - granting her a bit of life and color as the amber elixir hit her otherwise empty gut. She'd bypassed lunch for sake of a nap. Any minute now Almar would go storming in to find her quarters empty, the ship would go to red alert, and... Fuck it. She was an adult, a Commodore, and this was where she needed to be.

Promises or not.

"There's something going on that I can't quite place a finger on. I can feel it in my bones and it has me being careful with what I do and where I go, who I go with." Another sip brought about silence, "Who I trust." She added, the arctic crystal of her eyes boring straight for the colorful Trill's as if to drive a point home with a punch. "The point now is to get them back, first... Neutralize the threat later. I won't have someone poaching from the Vindicator, and if a point needs to be made..." She shrugged, "We make it."

"The question is - can you get your people back while a wolf is in your midst." Zett pointed out, licking her lips. "That's why I came. This is where we can help you. I don't know who you can trust, but I know I don't trust anyone outside this ship. Present company excluded, of course," she added with a smirk, as if it was needed. "So, as far as everyone else is concerned, we are not involved. I wasn't lying about the group that took your people; they are one of the worst inside the Syndicate, and, as a general rule, we probably wouldn't have stepped into this... mess," She chose a word. Not the best word, but it was a suitable word. "But this isn't one of those times for general rules to apply, is it."

"No. No it's not." Rochelle agreed, peering deep into the cup she held as if runes would pop up and display all the answers. They didn't. Instead the woman drew a rather loaded breath in through her nose and released it as a rather heavy sigh and her eyes closed for the briefest of seconds, her tongue peeking out to worry and wet her lower lip, "If there's a wolf, which..." She bobbed her head as if measuring the chances, "there probably is. We can't say for certain, but we know, right? Anyway... If there's a wolf then we need better livestock guardians for one, but we also need to send good shepherds to drive our lost stock home. Then we smoke out the wolf. At least that's how it's supposed to go."

Did it ever go according to plan? No. "There's a core group that can go. A small contingency. A marine turned Intel, Archer, and a scientist. They will go. The question is... How. And that's where you come in because your brand of hocus pocus masters mine. I'll admit it. Subterfuge is not my strong point and I'm about as subtle as a machete."

"Hm," Zett mused, sipping carefully, enjoying the perspective, and, at least in her mind, the compliments. They were better at this. But that was not because they're better at subtrefuge. It's because whether Zett -- and Dani -- liked it or not, when it came down to it, this is who they are. Nicer about it now? Maybe. Having some convoluted moral code that they enforce? Sure. But strip away all the games, and pretense and bullshit, and they're not that far removed whoever hired that group of thugs to kidnap those women.

That's who they are. It's who they've been, even if now they're trying to have a bit of a conscience about it.

At least, Dani is.

"Sending a team to the auction is not the best of ideas, Commodore. These events usually have the same type of participants; people know one another, or the organizations they belong to. There's a certain... club, if you will. Outsiders are always under suspicion, even before they set foot in the bidding arena, and, to be perfectly frank with you, Starfleet personnel tend to stand out like alarm klaxons, no matter how much they change their clothes, speech, and walking patterns," She smiled at that, remembering some of her own encounters with so-called 'intelligence' officers. There may have been some she's missed over the years, but these have been few and far between. When you've done this all your life -- when you are this, all your life, spotting the one that doesn't belong becomes easier.

"And that was true if you didn't have a potential traitor somewhere in your party. I don't mean to ridicule or underestimate your abilities here, but I don't know if I can stress enough just how much of a bad idea this can be."

"Then what do you propose?" Rochelle asked, snapping her attention and focus back to Zett completely.

Zett scoffed, blowing bits of cream off the top of her cup. "You don't actually want to know what I would recommend. I'll tell you what Dani does, though, to try and see if we can avoid risking people's lives," And our reputation, Zett thought, but didn't say. There will be time to deal with the fallout, and the meddling with other people's affairs, in other quadrants, no less, and they will deal with resolving all this mess when they're done.

Everything has a price.

"This ship is carrying more gold-pressed latinum than your entire crew will see in their lifetime. We're going to bid on your people, and we don't intend to lose." She watched Rochelle carefully, still smiling, still wondering if the woman really understood just how much they're putting on the line. She wasn't entirely sure Dani understands, not really. She will soon enough, whatever the outcome.

"And whatever you spend will be returned to you." Unphased, the Commodore responded and crossed her legs, taking another sip of tea. Zett was damn near Cheshire at this point and Rochelle, remaining poised, felt her stomach lurch at the thought of what she'd just said. The weight of her crown, unworn, tugged viciously at her head and her temples began to throb with the familiar ache of a building migraine. If she had to, she'd exploit whatever riches lay in her own 'holds' - whatever it took to bring them home would be done. Granted.

Zett laughed at that, somewhat impressed at the audacity of the promise, taking a moment to be amused. The money, of course, was a heavy sum, but nothing that would severely impact their operation for too long. It was more than Zett would have regularly agreed to "invest", of course, but while she was not expecting to see any of that money back, the investment in the good will of the group that basically had control over Federation space was not something to dismiss. The mere fact a couple of admirals and a Commodore -- This Commodore -- will owe her a favor, a fucking shitload of favors, really, was a decent return to the hefty investment.

But it wasn't just the money. The Bristol was in hostile territory, meddling in the business of the Orion Syndicate, and collaborating with Starfleet. That, above all, was a price that will take a monumental price from her operation. In this universe of thieves, criminals, and mob bosses, turning on your own kind -- even the unfriendly -- for the authorities... those were actions that led to wars.

Real wars. Dirty wars, that spanned terfs and hit grudges that remained for generations.

This was going to be a hefty price to repay, if at all possible.

"I appreciate the thought," she finally managed, still chuckling at that. When they spoke about interfering, about getting into this mess, Dani and her went over the implications, and, as always, created contingencies. They will try them all; frame those who need framing, cheat and lie and, as probably will be necessary, kill their way out of being the center of this, but that was theirs to deal with.

That was Dani's price for having friends.

"It won't be too bad to have a favor or two owed," Zett nodded at the woman, finally, with a wink. Repayment. That will be something.

"We do have some ways to make our bid count heavier. Dani is out talking to a few of our connections. We're going to call on some favors for this," Another thing Starfleet can't possibly repay, and is worth more than they would know. "If nothing else, it will buy you time. And, if you insist on storming that auction, we might be able to get you some local support. If it comes to it, you will need it."

---
To Be Continued...
---

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Kalina Zett
Head of the Zetarah Corporation
Acting Captain of the Bristol