Muddy the Waters ...

[T'aral 0]

Shan suited up for quarantine and came out of the shuttle cockpit with phaser rifle in hand. As the door opened, he leveled it at the brightly clothed passenger of the collected escape pod. “It seems your ill behavior has finally caught up with you, Mudd.”

 

“Young man … setting aside the fact that I have no idea what you are talking about, it is a dangerous practice to point those things at people. That thing could go off at any moment.” Mudd was doing his best to smooth the wrinkles out of his clothing while Lieutenant T’Aral completed her initial medical scan. “You would think Starfleet had no regard for the safety of civilians!”

 

“It’s my safety that I’m concerned with, Mr. Mudd.” Shan held the rifle steadily. “The last time we met, I was treated to a concussion. I have no intention of repeating that sensation.”

 

Mudd turned to T’Aral. “Young lady: please explain to your fellow officer that I am a friend. As a simple pilot and merchant, it would hardly be sensible for me to assault anyone, much less a Starfleet officer.”

 

Shan was becoming irritated. “I suppose next you’re going to say that you’ve forgotten all about Tch’ana.”

 

“Hmm … can’t say that I recall the name, although something about how you say it makes me wish that I could.” A roguish smirk spread widely under Mudd’s bushy moustache.

 

Shan’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can refresh your memory: grey skin, light hair, sharp teeth, all bundled in a corset that will make your eyes pop out …”

 

T’Aral snapped shut her tricorder and removed the containment suit’s hood. “He is free of anything immediately communicable.” Without a pause she opened the cargo hatch and waived in two security officers. “Take him to the Medical bay. I wish to complete a full examination.” As the guards led Mudd away, T’Aral held up a hand to stop Shan from following.

 

Shan turned to her crossly. “Just like that? No interrogation … no questions about what the blazes he’s doing here or what happened to the Vulture?”

 

T’Aral sat on a bunk patiently while Shan vented before proceeding. “Lieutenant, I do not believe you fully comprehend who you are dealing with. Harcourt Mudd is a professional liar: I do not state this as insult, but as fact. An interrogation will provide no information, as he has no doubt prepared himself for this encounter. While I am aware that he is one of only two logical suspects in the theft of the Vulture, there is no hard evidence regarding any possible involvement in the matter. If you were to interrogate him you would receive a story which implicates your friend as mastermind of the entire crime. While I would not believe such a story, there is no evidence to the contrary.”

 

T’Aral stood. “As obtaining false information is counter-productive, I saw no logic in pursuing the matter further. We should leave this to the Captain and Colonel Tavington.”

 

Shan’s eyes narrowed. “You admire him.”

 

T’Aral turned, completely unaffected by the accusation. “I admire his intelligence and focus. There is much to Harcourt Fenton Mudd which is underestimated. He is a competent pilot and a capable negotiator. The fact that he uses his talents and abilities in a socially unacceptable manner should not be taken as a reason not to recognize them.” She gathered her materials and turned for the hatch.

 

Shan stopped her briefly. “You talled Tch’ana my friend – am I that obvious?”

 

T’Aral lifted a single eyebrow. “Of course, Lieutenant; you always have been.” As Shan sagged in embarrassment, T’Aral made her way to a turbolift. Settling in for the ride, she eventually returned to the medical bay where Harry Mudd was waiting.

 

“Thank you, my dear … I do believe that young man may have wished to harm me.”

 

“It is not in Lieutenant Shalin’s nature to be violent.” T’Aral put her appliances away, gesturing for Mudd to step to a back alcove. “You will find medical garments available; please change into them.”

 

Mudd was taken aback. “Excuse me – are you ordering me to strip?”

 

T’Aral paused, then faced Harry directly. “You will find a rear chamber which contains a medical shower and bath facility. I have reason to believe that you were in that pod for an extended period of time; I therefore assume that you would wish to take advantage of our facilities while your clothes are cleaned. They will be returned to you when you are done.”

 

Harry straightened, and then smiled slightly. “Well, this is … hospitable!” He turned back to T’Aral. “I must confess that I hardly expected such generosity from a Starfleet officer, even if she is a doctor.”

 

T’Aral stepped back out of the alcove. “While there is no doubt that you are a fugitive, you also assisted us on Rura Pente. If one sets aside the fact that you had your own motives, your effort can be appreciated. As part of your rehabilitation I choose to reward you for that effort. Therefore: enjoy a nice warm bath or shower while we clean and freshen your clothes. The Captain will arrive soon enough to indicate her preference for your quarters.”

 

Harry Mudd smiled briefly before closing the alcove curtain. T’Aral sent in an orderly to tend to his clothes once she heard the water running. There was no cause for concern: there were several security officers in the outer bay and his girth was far too wide for the ventilation ducts – he was going nowhere without the Captain’s permission. Besides: she would have the clothes scanned as well as cleaned. If he had any clever little devices hidden within his garish garments, the Captain would want to know that as well.

 

In any case he needed to be cleaned at some point and this way was far more humane than handing Lieutenant Shalin a fire hose, regardless of how much the helmsman would’ve preferred that.