Leverage

Posted on Jul 28, 2014 @ 11:01pm by Captain Siobhan Reardon
Edited on on Oct 26, 2015 @ 2:25pm

Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave
Location: Various

"Leverage"
(Continued from "The Mind Is A Terrible Thing")

=/\=

It's okay to be afraid, but it's not okay to let yourself make choices out of fear.
-Me

=/\=

Location: USS PANDORA
Scene: Outside Reardon's Quarters
SD: [2.14]0713.1600

As the ship made haste towards the glorified floating casino known as VALLA ROYALE, Siobhan rushed for her quarters as if her pants were on fire. She wanted to check in with Drey, and then there was the matter of coming up with a suitable persona for the upcoming excursion.

It wasn't her first time there, although she'd never been there as herself. It was an interesting place, to put it mildly. In addition to gambling, public drunkenness and general debauchery, the place teemed with an endless underworld of shady characters and dirty deeds. It was the Portobello Road of the criminal element.

She entered the new quarters and tried to regain her calm. Her face was wild with excitement, nervousness, and the thought of vengeful justice against whomever wronged the children and their families.

Her son looked up and smiled. He was standing next to the dining table. "Hey, mom. I made dinner," he said proudly. "Well..er... sort of." He had come up with two salads, one with grilled chicken for her and another with tofu for him. "Maybe we can get permission to grow some real vegetables somewhere on board."

"Thank you, Drey," she replied sincerely. What he might have lacked in social grace he more than made up for in compassion and doing things 'just because'. She went to the replicator to get some breadsticks, then they both sat down. "How was your day?"

The half Supai youth grinned even wider, if that was possible. "Commander Lambert gave me a tour of the ship- it was awesome!"

Sio loved seeing Drey as excited as she was, albeit for different reasons. "Any place in particular catch your interest?"

"Are you kidding? It *all* did." He took a couple of bites, then refocused his attention like a laser beam toward his mother. "What about your day?"

The smile faded from her face as she thought about the mission briefing. She popped a piece of chicken in her mouth.

"What's wrong?"

Sio shook her head. "Someone kidnapped Dahlia and Ben... along with three others."

Drey thought back to the dinner they had shared at the villa. "They're just kids. Is Ms. Bonviva okay? Who would do something like that?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." Sio sighed as she ripped a breadstick into pieces without actually eating any of it.

"Where is the ship going?"

"First, to a seedy little space station, then probably to a little known system on the far side of Romulan space."

"It could be dangerous."

Siobhan took a short breath. She'd been trying to sort her feelings out on this point. She'd gone into ersatz retirement from active duty giving 'safety' as her motivator. But her heart hadn't been all the way in it. Xana Bonviva had done everything possible to ensure the safety of her family, and still her kids were stolen. It was a gray. uncertain area that she has always known about somehow, but had not been able to emote. "Drey, there's danger everywhere. But that's what we were trained for, to handle unexpected circumstances."

"In other words, the only thing we can control is ourselves," he said, eating a cherry tomato. "Easy peasy."

Sio cut a surprised look across the table. "Have you been listening to my lectures?"

The young man feigned smugness. "I pay attention. How much time do you have before you go to the station thingy?"

"A few hours anyway, maybe more... why?"

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "I want to hear a Starfleet story."


=/\=

"I hide in plain sight, same as you."
Gus to Walter, "Breaking Bad", Season 3 Episode 8


=/\=

Location: VALLA ROYALE
Scene: Promenade
Time Index: idk, maybe 8 hours later? It's just later, okay?

Layne and Reardon walked along the bustling promenade, the broad-shouldered man leading the way, just slightly in front of his away team partner. The Black Lion fully embodied his moniker, dressed in the somber hue from head to toe.

Sio, on the other hand, had chosen a dress in an incredibly vibrant color, an unexplainable cross between magenta and wine. It normally would have clashed with her hair, but a short brown wig took care of that problem. The outfit at first seemed rather tame with its high neckline and long sleeves, until she turned around. There was a large cutout revealing most of her back, and an expansive slit up the right side of the dress exposed an illicit amount of leg. Instead of a traditional and inconvenient strappy sandal she'd chosen a sturdy ankle boot in a nude color with a chunky heel. Being able to move comfortably, while still looking like a slut, was invaluable.

"So, why are we here?"

"If I said it were to visit an old friend would you believe me?"

"Not bloody likely," she said sharply, clearly enjoying the opportunity to be a little more brazen than usual. "More likely to call in a favor or drum up another lead."

"That's my girl," he responded. "So, do you have a name?"

"Natalie Portree."

"Nat it is then," he said roughly, glancing sideways at the brunette. The wisps of short layered hair followed the lines of her jaw and gave her a decidedly gamine quality. It made her eyes seem as though they took up most of her face and highlighted their intense green color.

She cocked her head and stared at him coolly. "What?"

He snapped back to attention, wanting to offer a retort, but instead focused on the cantina entrance about 15 meters away. "There it is."

"The Rusty Katana?" Nat queried, a grin gracing her ruby lips.

"Okay, so it's not very original. Come on."


=/\=

Scene: The Rusty Katana, Interior

The rectangular shaped room was devoid of a direct light source. A few monitors broadcast sports of questionable origin, and neon and xenon emblems of alcohol and synthale brands cast a murky glow. Even though it wasn't completely quiet, the noise level was low enough to hear a much more boisterous group in a back room, separated from the front area by a Breen bouncer and a coded door.

A rather forward Ferengi approached Natalie, despite Tim leading they way and simultaneously glaring at him. "Buy you a drink, miss?"

"Ooh," she cooed, gently caressing his left lobe. "Aren't you *precious*?"

The bearded CO shrugged; there was no accounting for taste. He then laid a substantial credit chit on the counter. "We're here to see 'the King'." The bartender, some kind of cephalopod race, stopped wiping the bar down with a musty rag and appraised him with wide, milky eyes. He nodded to the Breen, who gestured to them from inside his protective suit and helmet.

Nat leaned in to her shorter would be-suitor. If she smiled any wider, her cheeks would start to hurt. "I'm sorry, honey, I'll have to take a raincheck. But I give you the free gift of watching me walk away." As she moved towards the doorway, she couldn't help but wonder if the Ferengi was truly appreciating the view, or just happy she said the word 'free'.


=/\=

Scene: The King's Office

Patranegar sat in a small but pristine office, his twin fangs glistening menacingly on a passive face. The back wall of the office faced the room that couldn't been seen from the front of the establishment, and it was clear some heavy gambling was going on. He steepled his massive hands in contemplation at the money he was making. A discreet buzzer indicated a guest's arrival. A familiar human entered, followed closely by a Dabo Girl. "So what brings you here 'Targh'?"

"Ah, Patra," Tim said colloquially as they entered the room. He swaggered an almost imperceptible amount as he took a chair across from the humorless man. "I have a proposition."

"Who's the 'lady'?" he asked, gesturing towards Nat. She responded with a huff and folded her arms.

"My bodyguard," Layne said dryly.

The Nausicaan laughed heartily, but the sound it made was more like a dry heave, or a jungle cat coughing up a massive hairball. "Okay, enough of this farce. What's your detting?"

"I have all of Commander Velene's movements tracked for the last ten days. And I'm willing to give them to you. All I want is one thing in return."

Patra took a flask and poured a couple of shots of viscous purple liquor, offering one to Layne. "You want Z'aalrik as much as I do, if not more," he said through his bony face. "Surely this 'one thing' you want isn't the universe? Or the seven daggers of Mana?"

Tim downed the drink in one gulp, face neutral, as if he were consuming lime cordial and not firewater. "I need information."

The Nausicaan snorted. "You have a computer. One of those pretty Federation ones."

"We think he might be hiding something. The files we have access to are completely clean."

"And why should I trust you?"

"I could say the same, Patra. But the lives of five kids are at stake and that seems a damn sight more important than my desire to see ol' Z'aal rot in a Denebian prison."

The club owner considered the man across from him, finally letting out a noise consistent with a growl. It was a risk, but a calculated one. "Who?"

"Captain Jaxper Lawrence."

Patra slid open a panel to the side of the desk revealing a hidden console. He began to enter information to fulfill the odd request.

"There would have been more there but she detected my monitoring devices and had them destroyed." Of course Tim was lying, but nobody had to know that, certainly not Patranegar.

Laughter met Layne's comments as a chip of information was passed to him, and was exchanged for the dossier on Velene. "You should feel lucky she didn't catch on to you sooner. She's as slippery as Myre."

"Myre?"

"My Bartender. Are we finished?"

"I guess-" Tim began but was interrupted by the Breen nudging him to rise.

"You'll pardon me if I don't escort you out," the Nausicaan said with all the heartfelt tenderness of the Borg.

"Thanks, pal," the PANDORA's Commander said with derision as he felt some kind of rifle-like weapon nudge him in the ribs.

Within moments, Nat and Layne found themselves unceremoniously dumped in the main bar area again, this time the armored Breen mocking them from the other side of the stronghold. Well, at least that was what the short-haired woman was imagining him doing. "Do you think it's legit?" Nat asked as the CO pocketed the traded information.

"Won't know until we get back. So let's-"

A noise crackled over their heads as some kind of pulse weapons fire hit one of the ale signs, sending a shower of sparks over them.

Nat gracelessly dove behind the bar, with Layne quickly following suit. "What the hell?" he said as he took a peek over the edge of the bar. It looked like three assailants, with their faces mostly covered, and they definitely weren't the station security. Not that the security was all that great, at least half of them were on the dole with one or more of the 'businessmen' operating there. But if anyone from security did decide to show up, it would be impossible to explain who they were or why they were there. They needed to get gone.

Nat was hitting the hidden comm link on her dress to no avail, obviously thinking let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here.
"Some kind of dampening field is in effect. Is there another way out of this place?"

Tim looked back the way they came. The back room proper had an exit for just such a purpose. "You hold them off. I'll get the door."

Nat produced a modified phaser that had been strapped to her thigh. "You know how I abhor violence." She looked up at the back bar with its grimy mirror, trying to gauge an angle without having to risk her neck too much.

Tim, in the meantime, had upended one of the bar tables, making it somewhat like a shield in front of him and the impenetrable door. He had a weapon too, but it wasn't making any purchase against whatever it was made of.

Just then, a well placed shot destroyed the mirror behind the bar and tiny shrapnel rained down on Nat. "Dammit." She felt a stinging sensation as the pulverized pieces scraped her cheek and leg, but she carefully shook the remaining fragments off and turned around, preparing to take aim.

She stuck her head out as quickly as she could to get a position, but a lancing edge of energy grazed her shoulder. The special material charred, but fully protected her, as it had been designed to do. although it still hurt. "That's *it*," she muttered as she sank below once more. That had been too close.

Tim looked around at the floor level for anything that might help. The wall flanking the door seemed to have the same properties as the door itself. But there was an air vent near the corner that they might be able to snake through. He kicked in the vent cover aggressively, making quick work of the grate.

Nat reached over and blindly shot across the room, trying to divert their attackers' attention, then tried to shoot a small hole through the bar. It looked like several feet of the structure was fortified as well, but eventually she found a spot about a foot from the top to open up. "Wait!" she called over to Layne. "Where's the Bartender?"

"Crap," he said. There weren't any injured or dead patrons either. A setup of some kind? Then getting behind that door would be no guarantee of safety. Likely, the ventilation system wasn't a smart idea either. They'd have better luck on the outside. "We're gonna have to run for it!"

Nat didn't answer even though she'd heard. Instead she held her breath and took a shot at the closest attacker. She hit them in the leg, a bit off center but still a solid hit, and saw a blurred image across the aiming hole as he buckled to the floor groaning. Before the other two had a chance to react, she shot the second, this time hitting him squarely in the chest. Tim, with his energy no longer focused on going back the way they came, took out the third without a fuss. They both stood fully up and looked at each other. There was noise on the promendade of confusion and fear, but no noticeable alarms. "Go, go!" The Black Lion said, his powerful legs carrying him out into the open, with Natalie trailing.

"How was that?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Not bad... for a girl."

"well, they shot my dress," she reasoned out loud as they ran.


=/\=

Susan Ledbetter

Captain Siobhan Reardon
Diplomatic Liaison Officer
USS PANDORA

"I savored those stories; I read them slowly, one each day. And when I was done, I wished I hadn't read them at all. So I could read them again... like it was the first time."
-Melanie to Old Jake, DS9, "The Visitor"