Debriefing

Posted on Wed Jan 12th, 2011 @ 3:36pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Mantell & S'anra

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Arizona
Timeline: Shortly following 'Away Team Abuse'

=Command Cabin, SS North Star=

Jack had finished his talk with the Ferengi Captain Grixx when Major DeVries returned, accompanied by a Romulan woman, whom she introduced as the scientist, S'anra, that Grixx had mentioned before. After a brief explanation of her expertise, the boy commander nodded, having decided on the next course of action. Time to summon the mothership.

"Away Team to Arizona," the Miran announced through his combadge.

[Away Team, this is the Arizona.]

"Stand by to beam two back. Lock on to my combadge and the Romulan life-sign next to me."

Jack could almost hear the surprise in the voice that responded.

[A Romulan, sir?]

He nodded, then realized the conversation was still being conducted over audio. "You heard that right. She's something of an expert and I'm bringing her back to report to Captain Cowell. Stand by."

[Yes, sir.]

Tapping his combadge again to mute the channel, the boy turned to the Arizona's Security Chief. "Major," he started, "Work with Commander Halsey to find out what you can about the attack here. Anything you can determine would help to find the stolen cargo."

Unmuting the channel again, Jack ordered a simple command. "Two to beam up."

=Transporter Room, USS Arizona=

As one might expect, by the time they materialized on the transporter pad, security officers had been summoned to the transporter room. S'anra looked around the transporter room, seeming to try and take in all of it. The ship was alien to her, she had never stepped foot on a Starfleet vessel before. Everything was brightly lit, smooth as glass, colors were bright and cheerful. And there were two security officers with their hands on the grips of their phasers.

S'anra de-holstered her phaser cautiously, in a manner indicating she had no intention of firing it. "I'm sure your transporters disabled it, anyways," she stated as she handed it to the closest security officer. She then extracted a hidden piece of metal with the gentle curves of a Romulan dagger, and offered it to them as well. "All I've got," she replied to their expectant looks.

Jack had already reached the doors of the transporter room and was waiting for S'anra to catch up. When she did, he gestured for her to lead into the hallway and extended his arms, "This way, ma'am."

=Captain's Ready Room, USS Arizona=

The sounds of the door chime had done two things, disturbed Nathan from his reading and forced him to lose his place in the book he'd been trying to read practically since he came on board. If it wasn't Sweeney pestering him for initials on everything, it was someone coming to 'chat'. If he'd been much of a betting man, he would have put money on never getting to see the end of the infernal book, and it was a good one too...

"Come!" Nathan beckoned, which prompted the doors to swish open. The figures it revealed were someone bizarre. Jack, he knew, so his weirdness was simply an accepted oddity running around his boat. The figure of a Romulan woman, complete with head wound, however, was not something he saw every day.

S'anra stepped inside, looking about quickly before settling her view on the ship's Captain, who appeared to be way past his prime. The Captain's ready room appeared to be much more embellished and comfortable than that which would be found anywhere in the Romulan Empire. Cruise ships in space, she thought. She walked up to the other side of his desk, showing no interest in taking a seat.

Nathan gave the woman the ol' once over before pushing himself away from the desk and walking over to a small box affixed to the wall. Had the Romulan been up on her ancient Earth history, she may have recognized it as a first aid kit. While it was, in part, just for show, it did still function as a repository for his 'less conventional' medical supplies, which were obviously in demand just now.

The Miran boy followed the Romulan woman, passing her to stand before Cowell's desk, which had just been vacated. His eyes tracked the Captain as he moved to a box on the wall. He cleared his throat, a futile attempt to obtain the old man's attention. Chancing an eyeroll, the boy slumped into a chair before heralding his companion's identity. "Captain, this is S'anra. She's a biochemist was hired by the North Star's captain to protect the cargo from radiation or something like that."

Doc Cowell was only half listening to his First Officer as he rummaged through the box and found the things he needed. A little rubbing alcohol, some gauze, a few bandages to keep the wound from re-opening and causing more blood loss. Nathan closed the box and walked back over to the desk, grabbing the woman unceremoniously by the hand and pulling her with a strength he didn't look to be capable of exerting on anyone toward one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. The woman, upon being touched, made a valiant attempt to pull away. Had Nathan truly been as old and infirm as he might have looked, she might very well have managed to get free and escape his medicinal ministrations. He was not, however, anything of the sort. With the grace of a field surgeon used to dealing with people who didn't want their arms and legs cut off, he managed to trip her up and she landed, as intended, into the chair he'd been aiming to sit her in with a thunk.

"Now you just stay put," Cowell said in a voice honed from generations of practicing medicine on the unwilling, "It'll only sting a minute and then you won't have to rush down to sickbay before you have time to tell me what you're hear to tell me."

All the while Nathan was opening the alcohol and prepping several swabs to clean off her head wound.

"Jake, bring your ass over here and hold these bandages for me," Nathan said, holding them out in one hand while he held the gauze in the other.

Reluctantly, the small boy stood and moved to where Cowell was gesturing, taking the bandages from his hand. He stared at them, wondering why the old doctor was using cloth bandages and alcohol instead of a dermal regenerator. He shook the thought out of his head, knowing that Cowell would just deliver some crotchety remark as an answer.

When his hands were free, Nathan approached the woman and started dabbing the alcohol-soaked cotton onto her skin, dangerously close to her head wound.

S'anra looked at least mildly irritated at having been treated like a child. Her injuries were certainly not the most pressing matter at hand. She was more interested in finding out who stole the cargo so she could get paid, and getting Grixx's ship running so she could leave. "Commander..." she addressed the old man, who she was now gathering probably wasn't human.

"It's Captain, actually," Nathan said as he finished cleaning the wound. He grabbed the bandages out of his First Officer's hands and applied them to her head to make sure she didn't have another round of bleeding before gathering up the used gauze and dressing wrappers and depositing them into the replicator for recycling. Once he'd finished with that, he moved back over to his desk and sank down in his chair.

"Now that the compulsory addressing of a wound has been taken care of, tell me again why you're here?" Nathan said, as if he hadn't heard a word of Cmdr. Mantell's commentary.

"This is S'anra, Captain," Jack stated once more, enunciating the last word as if to prove he was paying attention. "She's a biochemist for the North Star, hired to protect the cargo from radiation or something." With his hands free, he crossed back to his chair and sat, "She worked with the cargo and knew what it was, so I thought it'd be useful for her to come back and tell you in person, sir."

"I see..." Cowell said, actually paying attention this time, "Well then, Ms. S'anra, please tell me what it is we're looking for and why you of all people needed to be on that ship."

"The largest portion of the supply is pescaline and isoratonyl. There are smaller amounts of other drugs as well, but all of it is recent, and it's expensive," S'anra replied, "It was my job to ensure the ship's emissions were not harmful to the cargo, as well as make sure none of the crew got into it either."

She dug into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a number of isolinear rods. She looked closely at the nearly-identical rods for a moment, before selecting one to offer the Captain, "My notes contain a complete inventory of the cargo, you will return this when you're done with it."

Nathan quirked up an eyebrow. Though he probably didn't need to tell his crew this, he hated being told what he would and wouldn't do by someone that, for all intents and purposes, was still nothing more than a child to him. His ire showed up as a scowl, but he didn't say much else as he snatched the thing from the woman's hand and opened his desk's isolinear board, which was nothing but a small panel on the left side of his desk. Once inserted, the screen embedded in his desk rose and began to display the various medicines that the ship had been hauling.

"Pescaline, isoratonyl, bio-mimetic gel packs, Peridaxon," Cowell hit the highlights of the more unusual items, "This looks like a list for treating a plague, not just some stash of expensive meds... What in the hell would they need all this garbage for?"

Major medical disasters usually did not go unheard of, there was no reason she could think of someone would keep the need for medical aid a secret. It was an intriguing mystery. After a pause, S'anra spoke up, "Captain, do you intend to pursue those that stole our cargo?"

Nathan looked up from the list, "Don't be silly, young lady, that's the only reason we're even here. There's another vessel on our tail, about a day out. I have my engineers stabilizing the life support on that tug right now, and when my investigation team is finished, we're buggin' out."

S'anra considered her options for a moment. Or at least, the options she decided she had. "Then I will remain aboard your ship," she stated, "I know the most about the attack and the cargo, I'm familiar with the territory. And if we recover the cargo, I might still get paid for this job."

Nathan's eyebrow rose at hearing yet another volley of being told what he was going to do. He didn't bite his tongue this time...

"You want to come along, fine... But let's get one thing clear as crystal before you grab your bunk. I run this show, not you, kid. You want to have a say in things, you do it properly; you ask first. I get that you want to protect your livelihood, but you're on a military vessel, we have rules, lot of them. Shorty over there can explain them in depth later. I, however, have only one; you do what I ask of you and you do it when I ask. If you can handle that, you've got yourself a ride. If not, you can go back to that fool of a Ferengi and probably not get paid. Your choice," Doc Cowell said gruffly.

S'anra simply nodded, "Acceptable."

"Good. Number One, take her down to sickbay and make sure the doctor actually stitches her up, then come back and see me. Oh," Nathan said, almost forgetting the most important part, "Welcome aboard."