[SE] LtCmdr Sky Blake, "Between Pirates and Liars." (Part 1)

[Deliera Jay]

::Sky’s day had not started out particularly well.::

((Flashback))

Ranjoes: Blake.

::The Terran threw a datapad onto the desk she’d currently found herself seated at.

::Benjin Ranjoes was a real piece of work. Standing two inches taller then Sky herself, black hair slicked back with as much product as one could actually manage to put onto their scalp, one hand always resting on her firearm, and dressed in the most casual Marshal attire she could possibly get away with, *this* was the ‘officer in charge’ of this particular local marshal station in Edira City.

::Which, unfortunately, made her the resident pain in the behind Sky had to report to, whether she liked it or not.::

::Turns out joining the Rangers had meant more field work (of which she’d expected) - once she’d departed from the Vertias, she’d made her way back to her 'home’ turf of Shadow’s Edge to start up her ground operations. Which would have been fine, if her objective had been anything other then “wait for orders”. *Wait for orders*? The time delay from between communiques with Starfleet could mean that whatever 'orders’ they had for her might very well be out of date by the time she received them. She’d gotten lucky with Cormac, the man having held out for a good ten days, but she’d have been a lot quicker had they been in proper Federation space.::

Ranjoes: Need you to look into a tip we got.

Blake: Is it vice related?

Ranjoes: Maybe.

::Sky had to breathe in deeply before she responded. “Maybe” was not enough to get her moving just for Ranjoes’ enjoyment.::

Blake: Unless it’s a solid lead, I’m not interested.

::And the unfortunates continued as Ranjoes slammed her palm down onto the desk - had Sky been anyone else, she might have flinched. Instead, she turned to her fully, arms and legs crossed as she glowered.::

Ranjoes: You’re set up in my building. If Starfleet wants you to stick around here, then you damn well better look into whatever I give you.

::It seemed more and more likely that this was just Ranjoes trying to prove how big she thought her junk was. And she did, sort of, have a legitimate argument. If Sky wanted to stay in this building (perish the thought, though Starfleet would disapprove if she’d been kicked out), she had to bow to his whims.::

::She picked up the datapad, glancing over it’s contents - not much, really. Just a few lines and a couple of names.::

Blake: This is a testimony from a Shadow’s Teeth pirate. What am I supposed to do with this?

Ranjoes: Follow it.

Blake: I’m not doing grunt work for you. You just handed me a piece of evidence from a private Marshal case to a Starfleet officer - which means you’re effectively handing me the entire case. Either you hand over the reins to me completely, or you can forget it.

::It wasn’t a miracle that she had her there, it was just common sense. Sky would not be bullied by some unprofessional despot who thought she could crack a whip and expect results. That’s not why the Ranger was here. Honestly, Sky’s job here in Edira City was just to relay information from Starfleet to the Marshals and vice versa. That so far, neither party were talking to one another properly, be it because they downright detested one another or there simply wasn’t much to share. Whatever it was, it meant that her job was a little bare and barren, so if she went after her own unfinished business, it was hardly her fault.

::This could be a golden opportunity if Ranjoes could keep her power craze in her pants.::

::The woman chewed on her lip as she considered Sky’s demand, one hand still resting on her firearm. At this point, given that the woman rarely left the office, Sky was well under the assumption that it was just decorative.::

Ranjoes: Fine. But you keep me in the know.

::Ranjoes snatched the datapad from Sky’s hands, allowing her clearance to the entire case, dropping it back onto the desk before making her way back up the stairs, likely to her own office. Sky took the opportunity to roll her eyes.::

oO Not going to happen. Oo

((End flashback))

oO “Follow the lead”, she said. “It’s your job”, she said. Oo

::Now, standing on the very familiar Cakapunnual cliff edge, Sky was being threatened by a drugged up pirate captain, a disruptor pointed with shaky hands at her.

::One more step backwards, and she’d learn how to (very briefly) fly. Not exactly how she wanted this day to go.::

Blake: Pine, listen to me. *You don’t want to do this*.

Pine: Marshals *killed my crew*! You deserve this.

::Which would be mildly logical if she *was actually a Marshal*.::

Blake: Pine, you’re not thinking straight! I can help you track down who killed your crew, but you *have to put the disruptor down*!

Pine: You’re lying!

Blake: You’ve been *drugged*. Put it down, and I’ll prove it to you.

::It took a few moments, many of them with her concerned for her life as Pine fought the affects of whatever it was he got doped with, whipping his head around like a mad-man before finally throwing himself the the ground, giving the Brekkazoid the chance she needed to rush forward and kick away the disruptor and handcuff the man.::

Pine:::whispering:: Help me.

((Shrmoa’s residence))

::Turning up at her once-doctor’s doorstep carrying a bleeding, unconscious human over her shoulder had not been the best way to get reacquainted with Shrmoa, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. Pine was being *hunted* by the marshals - not the local ones, but the space-faring, territory protection marshals. A much bigger and problematic deal then Ranjoes’ tag team of .

::Her options? Head for a medical centre and get sprung assisting and harboring a known fugitive; wait out whatever was in his system and hope she could patch up the shrapnel in the man’s abdomen herself; or head to the one qualified doctor she knew was on the planet and could trust.

::Though the Tarkalean was less then pleased to have to work during his shore leave, she could trust Shrmoa.::

Shrmoa: He’ll be fine.

Blake: The shrapnel?

Shrmoa: Not as bad as it looked. No surgery required, thankfully. Blake, what the hell are you doing getting mixed up in the Shadow’s Teeth? They might look pretty and act slightly more civilized then the rest-

Blake: He claimed Marshals murdered his crew, Shrmoa. What was I supposed to do?

Shrmoa: Write it off as delusions from a drugged man.

Blake: Speaking of. Could you identify what it is?

::The Tarkalean sipped his tea.::

Shrmoa: Highly potent felicium.

::And now it was *definitely* her problem, having chased after suppliers, dealers and users alike in an effort to at least *police* the stuff.::

Blake: When can I talk to him?

Shrmoa: Tomorrow at the earliest. I trust you will go unnoticed for that amount of time?

Blake: I’m Starfleet. They only notice me when I’m on site.

((The Gem))

::She was starting to feel like a pirate herself when she’d acquired her own ship last month. Registered with Starfleet, yes, but not so obviously that every Marshal would turn their nose up at the ship. Civilian vessels in this region of space often went by unnoticed, especially when they came from one of the Shoals’ very own shipyards.::

::With pirate captain Rhys Pine back within his own mind, she was less apprehensive about him taking the co-pilots seat for now.::

Blake: You said marshals murdered your crew?

::He sighed, rubbing tired eyes. He’d been on the run for days, caught up in disaster after disaster. Only over the period of the last twelve hours had he finally had a reprieve. His brilliant blue eyes did not hold the spark of a successful pirate.

::To be frank, there really wasn’t such thing as a 'successful’ pirate, if she had to give her opinion, compared to the Kos'karii, the Shadow’s Teeth were more the stereotypical kids-friendly version of pirates. Evan Delano probably knew more about their exploits then what Sky ever would, but Pine's moral compass seemed to at least point in the general direction of 'north'.::

Pine: We were docked at Pinator Bay. Spent the week kicking back, relaxing, as you do. After, I had my crew return to my ship, and to fire up the engines so we could leave as soon as I boarded. ::He shook his head.:: Marshals sabotaged the engines, because as soon as they powered up, the entire ship blew.

::There had been no word of an explosion at Pinator Bay, but there *had* been word of some kind of pirate attack on the locals. It was not a heavily populated area - less then a few hundred people, the settlement only slightly older than Cakapunnual.::

Blake: How do you know it was a marshal attack and not another pirate faction?

Pine: Because I salvaged the port’s security tapes before I high-tailed it out of there. I saw them, with my own eyes. A marshal boarded my ship and left without my crew’s knowledge. They were wearing the damn uniform! And then, two days later, the bloke finds *me*. Starts firing in the middle of the damn bay!

::Marshals had controlled the information that had flowed from Pinator Bay to the rest of Shadow’s Edge. And while she hadn’t heard of a ship being completely obliterated in their port, she *had* heard about weapons fire in the market district. She hadn’t found it of interest at the time - things like that happened more commonly around Edira City, and with Pinator Bay slowly growing, she expected similar incidents to occur. Now, it was important.

::While she didn’t believe that the whole of the Marshals were corrupted, it was possible that a few deadbeats had made it into Pinator Marshal ranks. If it could happen to Starfleet, it could happen to everyone else.

::And many, many times had something like this happened to Starfleet.::

::That's assuming, of course, that they penetrated the ranks at all. It was just as easy that someone got a hold of marshal uniforms to drum up this much hearsay from Pine. But drugging him? That seemed like too much of a step.::

Blake: Do you think you could ID the marshal if you saw them again?

::She’d said it before thinking. She could demand the Pinator Bay marshal personnel records if she desperately needed them, but she’d need to come up with an air-tight reason as to why. It was not something they just handed over to a Starfleet officer at the drop of a hat, and while Cormac was doing well as a local marshal, she doubted he was so well in the ranks he could just procure that kind of information and send it to her without someone asking questions.::

Pine: I remember that face. ::He said darkly.:: I see it every time I sleep.

::That was not a comforting thought. He could have changed details, forgotten certain features, swapped them out for something else, but she’d have to make do. In the meantime …::

Blake: Computer, look up any references to bombing or explosives incidents on Shadow’s Edge during the last week.

Computer: Searching.

Pine: You think you’ll find something?

Blake: There’s a number of Starfleet officers on Shadow’s Edge. Someone will have reported something.

Pine: And if you can’t find something?

Blake: Then I dig deeper.

Computer: Warning: Search parameters flagged.

Blake:::frowning:: By whom?

Computer: Unknown.

::As much as she wasn’t afraid of the validity she could come up with for her searches, being told that her movements were currently tracked had annoyed her somewhat.::

Blake: Trace the flagger.

Computer: Working.

::Silence dripped between the ranger and the pirate captain as the computer worked, placing location circles on a map of Shadow’s Edge, narrowing each circle with time. And then-::

Computer: User located in Pinator Bay.

Pine: So Starfleet *is* in on this! ::He accused, standing up from his chair.::

Blake: Sit down. ::She snapped, the man complying.:: If there’s a Starfleet presence in this thing, it’s not from me or mine. There could be a thousand different reasons why one of us is watching the others.

Pine: Like *what*!?

::For the first time in twelve hours, she was annoyed to admit that she didn’t have a proper answer for him.::



Tbc . . .

LtCmdr Sky Blake
Ranger
USS Veritas