JP - Lt. Ikaia Wong & Arthur Summerside: Tip of the Iceberg (Part 4)

[Lt. JG Kivik]

((Several minutes later))

With everyone safe and away from the Klingon crew, Ikaia motioned for Summerside to sit on a crate. He needed to look after his injuries. Taking a Klingon knuckle sandwich to the face was bound to do SOMETHING horrible to it.

Wong: Mind if I look you over? That REALLY looked like it hurt.

Summerside: ::Checking if his tooth was wiggly:: Ehhh… I’ve had worse. But I don’t intend to walk away from this any less handsome than I started.

Ikaia reached into his medical pouch and started pulling the tools he was going to need.

Wong: How are you feeling?

Summerside: Like maybe I should have tried kissing him as well. Talking didn’t go so well.

Wong: Somehow, I’m not so sure you’d survive kissing him.

Arthur laughed for a second before wincing and containing himself.

Summerside: Look, that Klingon didn’t turn me into one of his irreproachable vegetables, did he? Assuming I’m going to live, I’d like to stick with this case… ::A fleeting worried look to Wong:: I intend to figure out what’s going on here and get my scoop.

Ikaia had his dermal regenerator in hand and set his tricorder to the side. He was going to check to see if the poor reporter had suffered a concussion….. Just in case.

Wong: Alright. I’m just going to give your lip a quick once over with the dermal regenerator and give you a quick scan if you don’t mind. That was a hard hit. Most humans don’t usually get up and walk away from a Klingon haymaker. Trust me, I know how strong a Klingon is.

Ikaia, being a Klingon, was most certainly speaking from experience. He started to run the dermal regenerator over Summerside’s lip to fix it up plus any bruising he found. As the CMO finished his work, Arthur stood – a little shakily perhaps, but on his own two feet. He popped his hat back on and adjusted it.

Summerside: Then let’s get on with it. I think it’s safe to say we will only continue investigating those particular freighters if every other lead ends up a dead end. So, who’s next? I’m not interested in getting punched again, so if you want to go chat with our friends on.. ::trying to recall the other ship from the manifest:: ..the Soros - then lead the way. Otherwise, we can try my dock worker friends. Your call.

Satisfied with his work, Ikaia put his tools back into his pouch.

Wong: I don’t think your face is going to withstand another high energy encounter. So I think we shall talk to your friends. They might be able to provide a clue to our mystery. Are you okay to walk?

Summerside: Walk? ::He tried putting a leg forward and taking a step, then another:: Yes. At least for now.

Wong: Hm. Your call then. ::A beat::  What can you tell me about said “friends?”

Arthur took the lead, slowly, occasionally reaching out to steady himself on a crate or a railing. He motioned for Wong to follow.

Summerside: You know I can hear the doubt in your voice – but me and Eloc go way back. He’s Voth. You heard of them? We have a few things in common, though you wouldn’t guess it by the sight of ‘em.

Wong: Heard of but never encountered. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one at the Academy.

Summerside: Oh, you wouldn’t have. They’re like the Briori… same planet of origin. ::A strained chuckle:: Yeah, there must be heaps of us former-Earthers here in the D.Q.

Wong: I get the feeling the DQ is a magnet for many Earth based species.

Summerside: You have no idea! Ever heard of the Dinosaurs, kid? Well, get ready to meet one in person. ::Pointing:: There he is. ::Waving and shouting:: Hey, Eloc!

Well of course he’d heard of dinosaurs. He’s seen them at the Bishop Museum back home. It seemed almost surreal that he was going to meet a living descendant today. Summerside was making quite a ruckus as he approached a reptilian looking humanoid.

Wong: Eloc?

The hulking Saurian dock worker paused, lowering the large crate he was moving and looking about for the source of the voice calling his name.

Eloc: Is that Arty Summerside I hear? ::Spotting him approaching with Wong:: Hey! How you doing you old pirate?! Good to see you.

Before Arthur could warn him, Eloc gave him an incredibly strong friendly embrace, lifting the six-foot human several inches off the ground. For his part, Summerside let out a compressed wheeze. As the Voth set him down again, he noticed Arthur’s face.

Eloc: ::Concerned:: Hey - what happened to ya, buddy? You look uglier than usual! ::Noting Ikaia and straightening up a little:: Oh, uhhh, sorry Sir. Didn’t realize Arty was cavorting with Starfleet these days.

Wong: Ah. Greetings. I’m Lieutenant Ikaia Wong. I’m the Chief Medical Officer here. Actually, Mister Summerside was assisting me with a medical mystery.

Summerside: ::Not quite over it:: I’m the ugly one? Look who’s talking, you seven foot reptilian monstrosity!

Eloc laughed, a guttural belly laugh that could just as easily have been terrifying, had one not known the Voth’s harmless temperament.

Eloc: I suppose this isn’t a particularly formal partnership, than is it? ::To Wong:: It’s hard to imagine Arty helping ‘the flatfoots’ - as he’s always calling you - with anything… What can I do to be of assistance?

Wong: We’re trying to track down all shipments of iceberg lettuce. They’ve been ah… causing a number of issues here at the Outpost. Mister Summerside has claimed you’d be able to help us, Mister Eloc?

Summerside: Look, Eloc – I’m going to level with you. People are getting sick. Dying even. ::A look to Wong to keep his lid shut:: We’re going to need your help to get access to the merchant’s transportation records.

Ikaia raised an eyebrow. Nobody had actually died yet making Summerside’s claim a false one. 

Eloc: Well, that’s not strictly permitted. Those scan records are meant to be held in privacy unless we detect a specific security or health concern… Couldn’t you just ask to check out the freighters’ cargo?

Wong: Well, we had a run in with Klingon merchants earlier. I don’t think we’d like a repeat of that particular incident again. I think I’d prefer to narrow down our search before I use any of my Starfleet authority here to avoid causing unneeded distress.

Eloc looked from Wong to Summerside, the conflict clear, even on his reptilian features.

Eloc: Is that what happened to your face, Arty?

Summerside: You should see the other guy… He’s really nursing a sore knuckle.

Wong: This is why I’ve opted to go with a far more friendly face in this regard. Mister Summerside said that you’d be able to help us, Mister Eloc.

Eloc: Well… I do owe Arthur a favour. He helped me get in touch with my brother after he ‘went missing’ on Drayan II after he ‘accidentally swallowed’ some hallucinogenic polypeptides and-

Arthur interjected. The more time they spent discussing the matter with the saurian dockworker, the more chance someone would see – or worse, hear – what they were up to.

Summerside: That’s a story for another time, Eloc. Can you help us access the ships records or not?

Eloc: ::Seeming unsure:: Well… Alright. You two seem like you’re above board.

The hulking Voth lumbered over to a terminal and tapped a few controls, verified his identity, and accessed the scans. Summerside looked over at Ikaia and gave him a sneaky smile, raising his brows as if to say “Eh, see? What’d I tell ya?!” without saying anything aloud.

Eloc: What are we looking for?

Wong: Iceberg lettuce, actually. I have enough evidence to point in that direction as to what’s making everyone sick. However, I need to determine whose shipment contained the tainted lettuce. That’s what I’ve been trying to ascertain. Mister Summerside has been assisting me in this investigation.

Eloc: Iceberg lettuce, hmm? ::Looking through records:: I don’t have any- wait, oh, yes, here we go. I did have some lettuce come through the port aboard the Soros. Earth vessel, but captained by a Romulan refugee called Siruma. She’s a tough one, but fair.

Summerside: Romulan, eh? ::Racking his brain:: Didn’t I hear their whole planet went…?

Arthur made a gesture indicating something spherical exploding.

Wong: Given that we’re going to be speaking with Romulans, probably best NOT to mention that, Mister Summerside.

Summerside rolled his head to look at Wong as if he’d said the most obvious thing imaginable.

Summerside: ::Sarcastically:: Ya think so? ::To Eloc:: And where might we find this Siruma?

Eloc: ::Shrugging:: A lot of the freighters like to grab drinks at the G&B up on the Mezzanine. I think it makes them feel ‘fancier’ than hanging out down here on the Terminal.

Summerside: ::To Wong:: Right, well, then. I guess we have our next lead. ::To Eloc:: So long, Eloc. You’ve been a real pal. Consider us square.

Eloc: Best of luck to you both. When you find her, just don’t tell her I told you about her, okay? I don’t want any trouble.

Summerside: Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Eloc.

Wong: We won’t breathe a word, Mister Eloc. Thank you for your help.

Summerside: Time to wrap this story up in cellophane. ::To Wong:: Next stop, The Glommer and Beagle.

Wong: Right. To the Glommer and Beagle. 

Continued in Part 5 / 8…

Lieutenant Ikaia Wong PA-C

Chief Medical Officer

Amity Outpost

V239711IW0

Arthur Summerside

Civilian Journalist,

Amity Outpost

V239806K11