No Snooze Button
Posted on Mon Nov 11th, 2019 @ 9:22pm by Isabella Cerin & Rear Admiral Yoshi Minawara
Mission:
Wrong Place, Right Time
Location: Facility below Reactor Six
Timeline: MD04 0330
4482 words - 9 OF Standard Post Measure
Imagine drowning without the water. The sensation that you cannot clear your lungs. Now imagine you could only clear them a little, and were stuck in the half breaths of the in between. This was the feeling that awoke Yoshi Minawara, as he gasped hard for air he could not fully get, panic and worry causing him to thrash about before sitting up wildly, trying to calm himself. His eyes darted about, looking at his surroundings, looking for his crew, his Assistant Chief Engineer, his Captain. As some of the fog cleared a little, a few things became immediately apparent to him. One, he was having a hard time breathing, as though he only had one lung working. Two, he could not move his left arm to save his life, and try as he might only a dead weight greeted him. Three, this was not the ruined engineering section of the USS Ticonderoga. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in some sort of old bunker like structure, something intended for more storage than it was for habitation. Bunk beds were visible in the distance, as were consoles and tools, but none of this looked like a home. From his spot on the floor, on what accounted to at most being a camping mat on the floor, he found that he was sitting not far from Izzy, who was passed out on a similar mat. Part of him demanded he wake her, but a bigger part made him stop and take note of the surroundings and himself. He studied the room more closely, but aside from a door at the opposite end, found nothing of immediate note. Himself though, that was more interesting. His uniform was scuffed, as though he were dragged, and his comm badge was missing. His left hand, his fingers bent at odd angles, a symptom he recognized from more than one accidental high voltage shock. This wasn't an accident, this was intentional, which also explained the laboured breathing, they had likely knocked out his lung too.
With nothing else of use, he carefully (and laboriously) leaned forward, and shook Izzy's shoulder.
Awareness returned slower to Izzy, her lighter body mass working against her. Still, she groaned softly, and without the difficulties with her breathing and limbs, but with the subtle fuzzy head, headache, and short term memory lag of the drugs wearing off, made the first assumption that, half awake, made sense to her and muttered, barely audibly under her breath, "Fuck, how much did I drink...?" and tried to raise her hands to rub her eyes. She stiffened suddenly, noticing they came up together. She slit an eye open and was greeted with the unwelcome sight of rope knotted around them: Not energy cuffs, not regular cuffs, not even zip ties. Rope, like a trip back in time a few centuries. Memory of the events directly before returned in a rush, and she forced her eyes open the rest of the way, sweeping her eyes over her surroundings. She noted the absence of Yoshi's comm badge, and her first reaction was to hope that whomever had taken them--and it--had given their choices in other equipment, been sloppy and hadn't bothered to scan them well. She reached with her tied wrists towards the lapel of her jacket, where what appeared to be a simple lapel pin bearing the Federation seal hid a mechanism similar to a fleet commbadge. But her fingers touched only bare fabric, and eyes narrowed anew at this as she turned her head back to meet Yoshi's eyes.
His companion awake, Yoshi shifted and slumped against the wall to his back. "Hell of a night," he commented, the tone implying it was meant to be a joke, but came off as dry and unwelcome as it could. Grimacing as he used the one arm to shift himself to a slightly more comfortable position, he offered a heavy sigh, more trying to get a better breath than to denote his annoyance. "I guess negotiations are over for the civilized part of society, we're resorting to kidnapping," he added, and frowned into the distance. He then turned to face Izzy, and asked "How're you feeling?" the concern was there, but seemed muddled.
"Like I did shots with a Klingon. And overtaxed the limits of countermeasures." She flexed her wrists in various ways, trying to loosen the ropes, but knew if it even worked at all, it would take time. Hours and hours of it; which she was uncertain whether they had or not, depending on who had taken them and why. "I seem to have ended up with the better end of the deal though still." Her own tone had the edge of black humor too it mixed with concern, noting the dead weight and odd positioning of his arm and his labored breathing, which concerned her rather more than her pseudo-hangover and impending rope burns. She leaned and shimmied closer to him, allowing her to speak even lower, directly to his ear, in case the space was bugged or their captors were somehow observing. She leaned her head on his shoulder slightly, to a casual observer it might appear more like an attempt at mutual comfort than covert communication. "Whoever they are I don't like how smart they're playing it so far. They scanned us well if they took my comm pin, and they understand how to judge threat levels and respond accordingly...They disabled your arm but didn't bother near as I can tell with my translator and detox implants."
Nodding slowly, Yoshi reached up and placed a hand on Izzy's head, adding to the charade of looking like they were looking for comfort. "No," he said at barely more than a whisper, "and I think this facility is more than it appears. That hum is like a heart beat, less of a power draw and more of a power generation. I think we're near a generator, which means this room is probably part of a power complex. It's not going to be easy to isolate." He glanced around again, counting. "One entrance, nine pairs of bunch beds, but otherwise this looks like it was once a storage room. If I had to guess, I'd say most people believe it's abandoned, so we're probably not going to have any surprise guests." His frown spread, reaching his eyes and creasing his face. "I'd say these aren't armatures, they know what they are doing. What do you think they're after?"
"Depends on who they are, for one. Our lack of intelligence on this place and its dynamics...But pissed off locals just looking to settle a simple score wouldn't bother with this. They'd have killed us before now for their revenge, or at least stashed us somewhere more ad hoc. Any one of a variety of groups or governments could have established a covert presence like this here and we'd never know. Most of the people here might not know even, depending. Which makes guessing what they want nearly as hard. We could have been their target. Or we could've been targets of opportunity, grab what and who you can. Why...? Taking vengeance out of the equation, next broad brushstrokes reasoning wise are either information or leverage. About or against the Federation overall or the Vesta specifically."
"My guess is opportunity," he said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes for a second. "They're smart enough to pick a target, and drug said target, which tells me they didn't do this for vengeance. We're just caught in the middle of it all. My money is on someone from the colony. Maybe someone thinks that they can rush things by keeping us here." He offered a lopsided and half hearted shrug. "You think Jim was that desperate?"
"Pribeg? Desperate as hell with his back against the wall. He was willing to keep running the reactor after all, despite probably knowing more--before your explanation--about the risks of that than I do. But nothing in his demeanor or the way he reacted makes me think he'd come up with a scheme like this. If he had that sort of guile and deviousness in him I can't believe he wouldn't have been able to use it to come up with some better conditions and terms for his colony before this. Could've grabbed a trader and taken their ship, for example, set up his own supply runs and cut the middleman and the pricing." The way in which she quickly and oh-so-casually both conceived of and recounted such a plan perhaps showed exactly how much time she'd spent around--or being trained to interact with--Romulan officials and their complex ploys...or for that matter the time she spent dealing with the less blood soaked yet still vicious and intricate machinations of her own headquarters, where to say someone was "playing the fucking long game" was nearly a badge in their honor. "No idea if he was aware of this or not, but if he was, don't think it's his idea or his show."
Dramatic as any villain could be, the door hissed open, and was accented by a voice saying "Well, then you are as smart as you think you are," said the voice, slightly distorted, and covered by a bandana and a pair of goggles. To accent the look of chaotic leader, he wore a heavy long coat that made figuring out his features, ending his arms in a pair of gloved hands. At his side were two guards, armed with what appeared to be old Federation phasers. The group crossed the room, and he crouched down to be at the level of the two. "Almost anyways. No, I am sorry to say I am not a desperate miner, hoping to get the Federation to give me some food and a better life. No, what I want is more tangible, just the freedom of the Federation from the binds of it's own imperialism and 'helping hand'." Tilting his head, he looked between Yoshi and Isabella, and for some reason one could feel him smile. "No, you are going to help me secure a real future for this nation, you and your orbiting vanity project."
Taking a deep breath, Yoshi started slowly. "If you think you're so much smarter than us, you'll have to do me the favour of explaining how you think kidnapping a Federation diplomat, and the Commanding Officer of a starship is going to do you any good. We can't give you anything, you know that, don't you?"
The man stared down Yoshi for a moment--or appeared to, near as one could tell with the goggles--then turned to do the same with Izzy. If he was hoping for an easier mark to intimidate, however, it appeared he was out of luck, or at least out of luck in whether she would show it openly--she stared back evenly, calmly, almost eerie in the total lack of expression on her face; but said nothing for the moment.
"We're going to need supplies, and you're going to provide them," the man finally responded. "I'm going to leave you here, and go grab a friend of mine. Then we're going to make some calls to your ship. If you executive officer wants to see you walk away from this, you and him are going to cooperate with providing those supplies." he turned on his heels, and with little ceremony, left the room. A silence fell back on the room, and Yoshi let his shoulder slump.
"We're near a reactor," he said plainly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "That's why the Vesta hasn't beamed us up, they can't see us," he added as if it were to be common knowledge. "You're the one used to these, what supplies do you figure he's after?"
"Actually most diplomats take great pains to spend their career avoiding becoming 'used to' being in a hostage situation." Izzy said with dark humor, before her voice faded rapidly into purely solemn. She seemed to consider things for a moment, before deciding that there was nothing wrong with getting what she had to say in this matter on the record, even if they were being listened to. "All other things being equal, I would suspect supplies for the colony greater than what Vesta was otherwise willing to provide as an advance. And possibly better or greater amounts of those scheduled for later delivery, as well. Food, medicine, electronics and infrastructure and the like as were on the lists we've reviewed previously. However--", if anything her voice dropped into even more serious a tone, "--given some of the man's statements, I suspect he also, perhaps even primarily, has other things in mind besides such. I'd wager significantly he'll ask for weaponry and related equipment." Her voice changed again, towards the end of the statement; settling into a flat yet firm tone like an echo of the face she had shown their captor earlier. "If so, I would strongly advise against providing it."
For all the calm tone and expressions, the corner of her mind she couldn't control was only too terrifyingly aware of all the bad ends met by many of her counterparts and predecessors across space and time who had found themselves in similar situations, and she knew her hands were shaking slightly, unseen where she worked her wrists against the ropes binding them, tucked in between the legs drawn up towards her chest.
Nodding with his eyes closed still, Yoshi slumped his left arm down uselessly against the ground, letting a silence fall between them. His eyes opened, and, as if on cue the door hissed open. The arm may be dead, but that left other advantages. Vibrations in something unable to make it's own movements were more noticeable, and when that something was physically attached to your body, it was even more so. The man that entered was leaner, more well fit, and did not wear the ridiculous get up of the former antagonist. A simple black coat with a hood, lined with some form of dim light emitting strip, which bathed him in a soft glow, but made his features harder to detect. Almost as if it was shifting. Yoshi watched him, move from spot to spot, slowly, calculated, and he could feel the man staring back.
"Commodore Minawara," he said at last, before crouching down to look across the room at him. "I feel I owe you an apology, this has gotten far out of hand. Though, it is wonderful to see you face to face again," he said, his voice was smooth, also calculated, like he was considering them careful. "And if I am not mistaken, Isabella Cerin, Chief Diplomat. And a former member of the Romulan delegation. Good to know that some methods still work against those who are known to be cautious. Regardless, I am sorry. Simple for both of you. I need Vesta clearance codes to activate replicators and site to site transporters, and let me do my work, and we can be on our way. We let you go, you give us what we need, everyone is happy." Another pause, and Yoshi rolled his eyes before closing them and leaning his head against the wall.
"Specter hey?" was all the Commodore had to say. When an awkward silence filled the room, Yoshi waved his good hand in front of his face. "The technology you're using, it's a poor man's clone of the Specter technology used by Starfleet Intelligence. Can't miniaturize it enough to get into the glasses, so you're making do with the hood." He shook his head. "Listen, if you're playing good cop, bad terrorist, bring in the friends outside the door, our access codes are useless now. Second we were reported missing, Darrow would have made the notification and Starfleet would have system wide nuked those codes. I can't even use a replicator." He paused, and added "Aw shit, I forgot about that until now." His eyes opened again and he looked at Izzy. "Think of all the paperwork when this is over."
Izzy tamped down firmly on the first response to come to mind--'Easy for you to say. Only one organization has to sign off on restoring yours'. If the man holding them hadn't figured out yet that she had had access codes that could have gotten him into Federation galactic affairs systems and related areas; she wasn't about to remind him. Instead she gave Yoshi a carefully curated grin-and-frustrated groan at the thought of the level of paperwork, then a glance back to the man with the odd hood to preempt any such lines of thought while backing up the truth of the matter overall. Darrow would kill her Vesta based codes and the moment Kairishana learned she was missing, she'd have informed headquarters who'd have killed all the rest. "Don't look at me. My codes are just as dead by now."
The man rolled his eyes and stood up. "How fast do you think they really worked?" Yoshi answered this question with a shrug. "Listen, the people outside want to hurt you. Me, I don't personally care, all of this is business to me. But I need access to those systems. Quick and easy, sneak it, get what we want, and then let you go in the woods outside town. Boom, you're free, no one gets hurt, and I can also leave. Win-win." The man stared at Yoshi, who stared back indifferent. Finally he let out a groan and crossed his arms. Before he could say anything more, the original pair entered.
"Theo, he's not going to help us, so let's just get the show on the road!" The excitement was clear, and if the mask didn't obscure his face, he'd be smiling ear to ear. "Get some rest Commodore, in the morning you have a show to put on!" He stepped out of the room again, and the hooded man- Theo the other had revealed, stood and shook his head, heading for the exit, leaving the pair alone.
A lot rushed through Minawara's mind, most of it analysis. The door had been open enough that he could roughly figure out where they are near the reactor, specifically below it. The pair that they had met had their own issues, and were clearly all over the place. The masked man desired chaos above all else, he was unsettled and willing to jump to violence at a moments notice. Adding in to that, he was clearly looking to make a spectacle, and wanted to have the most shock value. The other though, he was smart, calculating, and knew what to do. The small bit of tech covering his face would make identification impossible, either facial or vocal. He also seemed to want to be out of here, like he wasn't as much a part of the group as he was an addition to it. What felt like an eternity passed, and Yoshi finally spoke, "So one is the leader, the other is actually smart."
A shiver ran through Izzy, and she couldn't be certain whether it was attributable to the falling temperature or the implications of their captor's words and the words just spoken. "...That's often a dangerous combination." She didn't bother to elaborate dangerous for whom exactly; while a brilliant advisor could be a valued asset who molded the actions of a leader; with the tendencies in play in this case, feeling upstaged by a subordinate could potentially push the lead man to even more extreme actions than he might otherwise take. And any idea that they might somehow play to those calmer tendencies of the odd man out was extremely limited not only by the bad odds it would work, but also in turn by how outnumbered he was by the others. She shifted her position again, allowing them to drop their voices low and quiet once more. "I don't really like the implications of the current setup, either." A pause fell as another chill ran through her. "They're trying to rattle us I think, letting us stew overnight. But why keep us together in the first place? Lets us communicate and increases the chances we escape or try something." She took a deeper breath, that came out somewhat shakily. "Only thing I can figure is they'll try to play us off one another. Hope they can get one of us to break faster that way."
A slow, thoughtful nod, was the first response Yoshi had to Izzy. "Then I plan to disappoint," he said, his tone cold and hard. Fact of the matter was simple, a logical bit that Starfleet taught Captains. If you were kidnapped, give nothing. If they tortured your crew, give less. Cold, hard, truth. He knew the diplomat likely had been given similar instructions once upon a time. As such, he didn't say anything to that matter, just offered a hard frown. He gripped the rope bindings on her wrists with his good hand, and worked his fingers into the knot, and within a minute or two freed the bindings. "They're not afraid of you escaping," he said, the sound in his voice was almost distant, like he wasn't here. He spun her with surprising ease and did the same with her leg bindings. It was methodical work, and he did this in silence. The knots were simple, again, designed not to keep her from escaping, but to add a layer of fear. Or perhaps they were, and his captors were even worse idiots. Once her limbs were free, Yoshi busied himself elsewhere, pulling the dead limb forward. Cautiously he slid his belt and coat off coming down to just his duty shirt. Designed to stretch as he gained weight, the belt made a good temporary sling, and for the first time, Yoshi stood to took survey of the room. When no one came, he crossed to the beds and found (admittedly old) blankets and a passable pillow. With no words still, he brought them back to her and paid them on the ground. "You should rest," he said, knowing the words were hollow.
Izzy nodded and laid her head down, hands pillowed against her cheek, but knew she was likely to get exactly zero sleep. Their captors were no doubt counting on this; a restless night of fearful anticipation to screw with their heads and keep them off balance; but knowing this still didn't make her any more able to quiet her mind once she closed her eyes. The move made little sense from a practical perspective in other ways, though, which confused her--every hour they were left to sweat over the next morning was another hour it became more and more likely all their codes and clearances were revoked and useless, and part of what the men claimed to want would be impossible to fulfill. Were they arrogant enough to assume they had time? Or dismissive of the possibility in favor or an alternative objective, if necessary? She twisted to flip onto her other side on the hard ground--and she'd thought dingy government travel quarters with mattresses last replaced during the Jaresh-Inyo administration were uncomfortable to sleep on...
The night passed with little from either. The odd attempt at small talk, but nothing of substance. Neither slept, but Yoshi was surprisingly used to that, so when the doors opened to reveal the masked man and his hooded accomplice, the Commodore was standing at it waiting, looking as stoic as ever. "Let's get this over with," he said before either man could say anything. The masked man stepped aside and directed the Commodore down a hallway. He paused only to look to Izzy and offer a reassuring, if cold smile, and then followed as ordered.
The look he received in return was neither a smile nor a frown - once again Izzy had slipped her outward expression into the blank slate of a mask she had practiced through Dominion negotiations and Federation Council hearings, Romulan state dinners and Ferengi high-stakes gambles. Her inner self, though, divorced from outward show, churned in confusion at this unexpected separation. Grateful as she might instinctively be to be ignored for the moment, a nagging prickle of fear followed: It might seem good on the surface to be of less focus or use, but it wouldn't necessarily stay that way. If you weren't as useful for other aims...You ended up as leverage. And that was never good. She leaned back against the wall with a shaky breath as the door closed and the footsteps receded. Listening careful, she could hear a rustle outside the door, still - so; they'd split a man off to guard the room. Not a chance to escape, then - the guard was undoubtedly armed, and she was not. Trying to focus her mind on something besides all the bad places it would go to at the moment, Izzy started in on reciting the Rules of Acquisition in her head; all 285 as she'd been required to learn in preparation for her Ferenginar posting; and the history behind each - which Nagus had codified them, when, and why.
The trio walked in silence, the only words were directions through the maze of maintenance corridors. Concrete walls, an oddity for sure in the 24th Century, made following exactly where he was harder than expected. All the halls looked the same, and by the time they arrived at their destination the man realized it had all been designed to confuse him in terms of turns. Smarter than they looked for sure. They entered a large room with what looked to be a series of controls and displays, further confirming that this was in fact a reactor, and that someone had set up a base in one of the auxiliary control rooms. He was directed to sit in a chair, and complied nicely enough, even going so far to cross a leg over the other as though this were a simple interview. "Don't suppose you can give us those codes?" the hooded man asked politely.
"Sierra-Tango-Three Three Niner-Zero One Eight Six, Minawara, Yoshi, Starfleet Command, USS Vesta," replied the Commodore with a small smirk. His serial number, which would be completely useless to them, other than to confirm he was in fact who he said he was. And even then, not really. He could feel the masked man roll his eyes.
"Very well, let's see if your Executive Officer is more cooperative with our needs," he said, and turned to the displays as though he were a conductor at a symphony. The Vesta's badge appeared, waiting for a connection.
