(( Station Brig, Astrofori One ))
::Ross was singing.
::Loudly -- and tunefully! She'd had no idea he could carry a song so well -- he was currently half-way through Gilbert and Sullivan's 'Trial By Jury'. And have quite the merry time of it as well, from the way he was gesticulating and moving about his cell.
::Zhao, on the other hand, was quiet and still in his individual cell. Sat on the bunk, a hand on each thigh, he didn't move except to blink. She'd been told of his posturing and bravado in the conference room, but none of it was in evidence now.
::Quinn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, massaging with her finger and thumb. In the aftermath of the telepathic exchange, she'd been left with a ringer of a migraine, and no time to visit the station's medbay to get something for it.::
Brunsig: You caught him, then.
::She startled, whipping around to see Walter Brunsig standing behind her. In his hand was a PADD, and he was peering past her to look at the monitors displaying the feed from inside the cells.::
Reynolds: Is the comm system broken?
::He scowled as she parroted his own words back at him, and thrust the PADD into her hands.::
Brunsig: ::Gruffly,:: Don't push it, Captain.
::That made her wince, which was no doubt the intention. Even when she'd been his commanding officer, he rarely, if ever, called her by her rank or title. It had been Quinn -- or far more frequently, Cupcake. When she spoke again, her tone was much more subdued.::
Reynolds: All right. What did you find?
Brunsig: The Parkhaven.
::She lifted her shoulders and shook her head, glancing down at the PADD. The name didn't ring a bell.::
Brunsig: It's one of the docked freighters. Long story short -- its engines are too big, its cargo haul is too small and there's some suspicious sensor dampening in one of the aft sections.
Reynolds: You think this is their escape route?
Brunsig: I'd bet a bottle of Bunnahabhain on it.
::She nodded, and glanced toward the screen. Nothing had changed -- Zhao remained still, Ross was still singing.::
Reynolds: Ask Zorkal for the security feeds for that berth. If we can prove Ross or Zhao were on that ship at any point, we can argue cause for a search.
::He nodded and stepped away, turning to head toward the security chief's office.::
Brunsig: I'm busy.
::He was always going to be busy, she suspected. Perhaps she should take the hint and let it go. As an engineer, she knew that some damage just couldn't repaired.
::So she nodded and looked away, back to the screen, letting him go. His footsteps were a quiet thud against the decking, and they paused momentarily as the exit to the brig slid open.::
Brunsig: You should get something for that headache.
::By the time she had turned to him, he was gone.::