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Mark Garrison

"Good Cop, Bad Cop"

Mark paced around a nearly empty security. Besides a couple ensigns finishing off duty reports, the rest of the department, and probably the ship as a whole, were enjoying the first proper downtime since docking at that God forsaken station. The weariness showed on him as he looked over the padd containing all the reports on the Pakled Asyle, the latest in a string of security disasters, which only served to frustrate him more.

 

"It is probably a good thing that this ship is well built, else the deck plating would suffer with your pacing," Victria commented as she entered the main offices. She could feel his unease clearly through the bond they shared. His foul mood radiated off of him in waves and made her want to bite someone. "Should you not be pleased? The mission was a success - of sorts - and the child is once more on board." She paused at one of the terminals, glancing over her shoulder at him as she waited for it to log on.

 

"There's that, I suppose." He nodded in concession. "Though our part was ultimately useless, and we lost three men down there too. For what?" He glanced over at her wondering her own opinion on it. He didn't enjoy the idea of this quest for the Dominion, but orders were orders, and anything was better then another war.

 

"We were there because it was possible that we might be needed. In this case, we were not." She straightened and turned to peer at him once she'd downloaded the information she required. "You cannot always expect to charge in and play hero. Not every Hunt will end in a kill."

 

He locked eyes with her. "That's not what I meant." He stared her down for a moment before moving from his spot, continuing the pace. His mind wandered to the past for a moment before he met her eyes again as he turned back to her. "They were pointless deaths, and even you can't deny that. There's a difference between lives spent and lives wasted."

 

"Had we infiltrated the compound or served some other purpose, you would feel differently. Remember - this was our suggestion and our plan. It was well thought out and was the best option for recon. We could not have predicted the transporter malfunction or what transpired after. No one could."

 

"You only feel they were pointless because we were not a part of the mission," she continued bluntly. Perhaps it sounded callous, but she was a realist. "It was not a situation that anyone could have been predicted. Mourn them if you must, but do not belittle their deaths. They died in battle. It should be enough."

 

His scowl deepened slightly. She was right, even if it didn't improve the situation any. His mind drifted back to his last away mission, which had ended in body bags and memorial services as well. His eyes met the padd in his hand, and managed to pull him from the bitter memories. "Before I forget, it turns out we had a stowaway from the Station, a female Pakled. She must have snuck on board right before the raid. She's been impersonating an engineering officer ever since." He glanced it over once more before handing it over to her.

 

One eyebrow arched as she accepted the padd and scanned the contents. "It would have been impossible for her to have come aboard afterwards. Our security checkpoints have had no gaps. Perhaps she hid in one of the incoming shipments, though to think that the cargo crew could have missed her is disturbing. Even more disturbing for her to impersonate an officer and not have anyone notice, though I suspect that this is probably the first time she's attempted it. We have no other Pakled on board. Did you question her?" Her eyes lifted meet his gaze.

 

He rubbed his forehead. "I just got back from the brig. She's... violent, argumentative... and loud. Doug and I tried to question her, but all she did was shout about how she hated men." A disgruntled sigh escaped him as he watched her read over the padd, which included the colorful description of her discovery by Commander Admiran.

 

"Interesting. I know nothing of the Pakled. I assume that you wish for me to interrogate her, then? Do you think she would be more cooperative with a female?" She smiled slowly, a devilish glint in her eye.

 

His lips couldn't help but curl into a smile as well. "Well, that's what I'm hoping. She's been nothing but uncooperative as of now. If anyone can intimidate her, it's you."

 

"We shall see, though if she detests males as much as you say – for the reasons you suspect – she is probably accustomed to intimidation." Pondering for a moment, her attention strayed to the general direction of the brig. "I will use one of the private holding rooms. Will you be listening?"

 

"As much as I'd like not to, yes. One of us will have to brief either the Captain or Commander JoN's on this, and it'd be better if we both hear her story from the source." Despite her screaming, the situation she claimed to come from was deplorable at best. He owed her at least an open ear.

 

"Then, if you have no objections, I shall see to it immediately. If there is yet another point of entry onto this ship that we have not covered, it is important that we discover it."

 

"Agreed," he nodded. "Be warned, though… she is less than pleased with her captivity. She already tried to attack Doug and will probably try something again. And don't mistake her slow and broken speech for stupidity. She is smarter than she looks."

 

"I will take that into account. Prepare yourself during the interview. If she becomes violent, I will need assistance."

 

He blinked in surprise and grinned. "You? Needing assistance? Surely you can hold your own against a single Pakled female without getting hurt."

 

"Of course," she stated flatly. "I was considering her safety, not mine."

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Giant. Mace. Can. Or something.

 

Nice one guys.

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