Capt. Shayne: A Different Sort Of Interest

[Randal Shayne]

((OOC: I've taken the liberty of slashing and sewing some minor story conflicts together. Most changes are in the brief walk to the Tram/Ayemet scene by Shayne and Matthews. I've done my best to keep details in place, just handwaved a couple lines of dialogue and description.))

((Alpha Trounus Prison Facility))

Shayne: When we get to Tram, I’ll do the talking. You do the looking. 

Matthews: :: Glancing down at his tricorder. :: Anything specific I need to be looking for? Nothing that’s immediately detectable is raising any flags. :: He glanced up to catch the captain’s eye :: But I’m worried about the sections that are marked off. We don’t know what they’re for, and we don’t know what’s going on in there. 

What was better- a cautious officer that toed the line, or a brigand that charged through the line and left it tattered behind him? There was a beauty in the diversity of the fleet- skins and scales and colors, yes, but also perspectives. There was a median that any officer could aspire to understand, if not reach, and the captain did so enjoy tempering those aboard his ship; bringing them where they needed to be, and usually without repeatedly scalding them in a foundry and then dipping them in cold water. 

Wow, he had gone off track. 

Shayne: Looking around, I mean. As unobtrusively as you can. He’s not an enemy, but we’re under too much of a crunch to let him steep into an ally. And use your eyes more than your tricorder. If he thinks we’re on to him- for something he may or may not have reason to hide- he’ll clam up like a… one of those sea creatures with the big mouths? Pearls inside? 

Matthews: :: Chuckling :: Clam up like a mussel. Okay sir, got it. 

Glowing with a sudden pang of embarrassment, Shayne led them on. He hadn’t memorized the map, but most Federation-sponsored penal facilities followed a rough outline, with sensitive areas being upwards and towards the middle of the block. The architecture, strange and melded with rock as it was, seemed to acquiesce to this design philosophy, and Shayne salved his burning calves with this recognition as he stepped up a number of inclined corridors. 

Shayne moved carefully but purposefully, instinctively hanging near walls and encouraging Matthews to do the same. The humming blips of a tricorder faltered as they approached another junction. Turning left, Shayne spotted something odd- one side of the corridor had a number of equally drab doors, but the other had a single drab door, and try as the designer might to make the area non-descript, such internal details stuck out to the former engineer like a sore thumb. 

The pair approached, and Shayne peeled off the wall to assess the door directly. As he stepped closer, it opened, and Shayne carefully entered, with Richard behind. It hadn’t been locked, but the moment they entered, the stuffy sensation of privacy interrupted wallowed within the CO. 

Tram: Ah. One of those...::a long far off, yet still familiar melancholy washed over his features:: my beloved wife often accused me of similar to my own work...::true pain shone stark on his face for a moment:: Trust me when I tell you, no warp core would ever soothe the savagery as losing ones love...::realizing he was emoting more than usual, he stood and busied himself preparing a drink:: Please, it's been ages since I have had a chance for any stimulating conversation, join me by indulging in a drink? I assure you, it is the finest quality Uttaberry brandy exported directly from Betazed. 

Shayne held up a hand behind him to stay Richard, and glanced back at the man’s shadowed features. In and of itself, an offer of a drink was not a sin; this was his facility, and he’d run it as he damn well pleased. But that was the entire vibe of Tram; in and of himself, he wasn’t creepy, wasn’t worrying, wasn’t suspicious. On the frontier, correctness and instinct were often at war with one another, and normally, the captain would be inclined to allow the clumsy offer to stand, and be repelled on its own lack of merit. Dewitt’s next words, however, startled the captain to his core. 

A.Dewitt: Why Mr Tram are you trying to seduce me?

Shayne chose the exact wrong moment to swallow, and the only thing that covered his presence was Tram’s equally choked, strangled noises. 

Tram: ::flatly:: I assure you, Lieutenant, I am not. 

The captain had been offended by Tram’s apparent interest in his offer. Now, absurdly, and directly out of line with his own convictions, he was trying not to be offended by his rebuttal. Ayemet was handling herself aptly, if not particularly subtly, but he still traced his hip for a non-existent phaser. 

A.Dewitt: Quid pro quo Mr Tram. I’ll you about the animals that experimented on me and you tell me how you are going to stop them

Ayemet’s words were… unexpected. She was coming on forcefully, using tactics to squeeze the truth from Tram, using her own wiles to try and preemptively direct him to the backfoot. 

Tram: ::steepling his hands:: I am afraid you may have given me far more credit than I deserve...I am a humble warden. My expertise has been containment, for the last several months. 

A.Dewitt: Response 

Shayne began to stand, still sticking to the shadows near the entryway. The longer he went without announcing his and Richard’s presence, the less innocent their presence inherently became. But he had the feeling that Tram would reveal information to Ayemet that he’d never reveal to Shayne- and that was information he craved. Since they’d started compartmentalizing information, Shayne’s collection of data had narrowed from an infinite number of sources to however large the pool of knowledgeable officers were aboard. He gestured to Richard to begin his scans, and Shayne listened while assessing the room. 

Tram: I am a physician, yes. Or, rather I was. Before the Dominion occupation. Now my talents have been more....research based. Although if I am being truthful, scientific exploration and experimentation have always been my true passions. 

The captain tried to ignore the grease in that statement. The petulant attitude he’d showed upon their beaming down, the unwanted (if largely harmless so far) focus on Ayemet- it all spoke of someone who might be thoroughly innocent of a crime, and yet intolerable all the same. 

A.Dewitt: Response 

Matthews: Response 

Tram seemed to be getting lost in thought. 

Tram: Fascinating beings...the Sheliak. Physically so different, series of folds and mucus secretion...their brains, held within the loop structure. Such capacity for processing vast amounts of information...coldly efficient, given my...focused research, I determined each loop seems to be able to operate independently from the others. ::his head tilted in thought:: How curious they seemed to have the same idea when it came to your captivity....

No wonder Tram wasn’t interested in a romantic approach; he saw Ayemet as a test subject, a specimen.

That didn’t sit well. 

He stepped out, at an angle oblique to Tram. He tried to look as normal and non-chalant as possible, and briefly gestured for Richard to follow. No secrets between friends after all. 

Shayne: How are we doing, Lieutenant? 

The captain kept his eyes fastened on Ayemet, one corner of his mouth quirked upward. 

Dewitt/Matthews/Tram: Response

Shayne: Yes, very informative. Thank you. However, we found a number of small issues, some structural, some electrical. Nothing to worry about- it’s bound to happen when we’re dealing with temperature variations this extreme- but I’ve ordered a small team of engineers to beam down to effect certain repairs. 

Perhaps Stros was rubbing off on the captain; not quite the truth, but close enough to it to speak it without blushing. 

Tram/Matthews/Dewitt: Response 

Tag/TBC…

Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0