SD241810.11 - Joint Duty Log - CSEC, ASec, MO, and NPCs - "Oh, Holy Foxtrot."
Posted on Thu Oct 11th, 2018 @ 4:12am by Brigadier General Jonathan Grey & Lieutenant Commander Richard Groves & Lieutenant Commander Irja Niva MD & Lieutenant Felix Preston
2,476 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
Tremor Trouble
Location: Versailles
Timeline: Current
=^= Docking Port G97-A =^=
The passengers of the transport ship clustered around the docking port, pressed up firmly around the pair of thick double-doors that led into the station. Around them could be seen the edges of the doors belonging to the ship; opened as quickly as possible to get the passengers off. The captain was no stranger to rough times, and was keen to drop these folks off so he could go back to YaDalla and load up again.
The fact that these people had paid a small fortune, each, surely had no impact on his philanthropy.
"Folks," his voice crackled over the dented speaker grill above the door, "you need to move back from the door so they can open it. Back up."
Begrudgingly, and with a little help from a thick-set crewman, the bedraggled horde freed up a little space around the door.
More people were arriving by the minute from the side corridors as they woke up, or were nudged out of the sleeping cabins by roaming bands of crewmen, and now the crowd had swelled to almost eighty people. From the oldest, a crone at ninety-five, to the youngest, a toddler clinging to his mother's sleeve at the back of the crowd, all were eager for the station's doors to open and allow them entry.
The Civilian Police Service stood along the entry path, providing both an element of guarding mixed with a basic 'passenger' service role. They helped corral the new arrivals into designated lanes, lining them up to pass the border control and security check points.
Groves stood overwatch from a control platform, he scanned the large atrium from one end to another, glancing down at the freestanding console in front of him. It provided a number of data points for him to monitor, including thru-put, status of 'waves' of departures from the ships, and most importantly it flagged any situations that may require specialist attention.
So far, so good. he thought to himself, in the first 60 minutes there hadn't been much to worry about. A few passengers didn't have the correct papers, which was to be expected given the rush to leave Yadalla, some others didn't pass the medical quarantine process. The most violent thing to have happened so far, was a scuffle between two people over the ownership of a hold all containing food rations.
Richard's attention snapped down to the console in front of him, the scanners at Checkpoint Foxtrot, kicked out an alert for an unidentified material inside a male travellers luggage. "Groves to Checkpoint Foxtrot, Is everything okay down there?"
Felix was in charge at Checkpoint Foxtrot, watching over his teams from a console at the back of the checkpoint. This held information from his own checkpoint, as well as the other checkpoints. "Preston here, i've got the same readings you have. Standby and i'll give you an update once I have one." He stood from the console, and signaled to two of his security staff.
Walking over to the man, they stopped him, and tried to pull him to one side.
"Wot bruv!?" shouted the man, a burberry-bedecked youth of around nineteen years. The crook in his nose, along with the many small scars on his face, marked him as a man with a chequered past. With modern medical technology, the only people to go around wearing scars were those who, for one reason or another, didn't or couldn't go to a doctor. The former generally wore tribal scarring, or were victims of some sort of abuse. The latter were often criminal types, careful to stay below the radar.
Idiot criminal or loudmouth victim. Neither painted a pretty picture.
It sure wasn't a quiet picture.
"I ain't done nuffin! Gerroff!" he insisted, shoving at the closest staff member with one hand. His ratty trainers pushed hard against the ground as he tried to run, hampered by the sheer weight of the shoulder-bag whose strap weighed heavily on his shoulder.
Grove monitoring the situation, scowled from his overwatch position. He moved to platforms barrier, leaning over it to get a better look at the area below. "Preston, Report."
The scuffle below continued to escalate. The young refugee becoming more and more irate at being accosted by security personnel. "Groves, to Preston. Deescalate that situation. I want a full search of his luggage and put him through a body scanner." Coming back to an upright position, Richard signalled to awaiting crewman to depart the platform and assist the Lieutenant.
Felix had had enough now, he signaled for two of his stronger security team to hold the man down, and get his arms behind his back. "Right...." He said quietly to the man. "I tried to be nice. Now I'm not gonna be so nice." He pulled a pair of cuffs from his belt and snapped them on the man. "Preston to Grove. I have our friend in custody, i'll inform you of what we find." He said, pulling the man up, and marching him off to a full body scanner, located off to one side in an office.
With Felix in control of the situation at Foxtrot, Groves turned his attention back to his terminal, the data feeds continued to update. He tapped the console, digging deeper into systems, pulling up the facial recognition software. He began reviewing the scans the computer had automatically performed as people disembarked the vessels that had brought them to Versailles. Groves recalled information he had read in a briefing while being prepped by Starfleet Security for his new role. He recalled a number of criminal gangs had operations on Ya'Dalla, and he was beginning to wonder if they where taking advantage of the situation to smuggle contraband off the planets surface. Richard reached for his com badge, tapping;
"Groves to Constable Loz'st. Let's tighten up on our screening process. I want every person throughly screened. Every piece of luggage and property authenticated. No exceptions." he got a dreary acknowledgment from the Constable.
Felix had just finished scanning the man, and was looking through the results. Suddenly he dropped the PADD and drew his phaser, pointing it at the man. "Stay right where you are." Felix tapped his commbadge. "Preston to groves. Sir, I need you down here. Now!" He said, a slight hint of worry creeping into his voice.
Seeing the weapon, the young man panicked.
"I ain't dun nuffin! You ain't gunna kill me 'ere!" he screamed, twisting in his bonds and head-butting one of the Security officers holding him. Desperately pulling away from them, his foot lashed out and caught the other guy in the knee. The sound of crunching cartilage could be heard across the office, along with the noises you'd expect to hear from a man whose knee was never meant to bent backwards.
Abandoning his bag, the young man ignored the weapon and bolted for the door, his eyes wide and breathing ragged at the expectation of imminent incineration. Weapons from his neighbourhood didn't have a "stun" setting; just settings that killed you, and the ones that made you wish they had. Cheap jeans rode up his leg as he sprinted, revealing the scars from his last encounter with an energy weapon. The sense memory of that event was filling his mind right now, and it only made him run faster.
Groves noticed the young man making an unaccompanied and panicked dash down back through the concourse, clearly he was making a bee-line back to Checkpoint Foxtrot to retrieve his belongings. This intrigued Richard, clearly there was something he was keen to keep a hold off. Rushing to the back of the platform, Groves slid down the ladder that he had previously used to gain access to it. Steadying his feet, he ran an intercept line towards the suspect, if he was fast enough, he might just beat him there.
"Make a hole!" He shouted across the bustle of the arrival area, dodging a few civilians who had successfully cleared security and a few Deputies who where rotating out their shifts. He sprinted as fast as he could to catch the young tear-away.
Felix wasn't in the mood for people like this. He aimed with his phaser, making sure it was on stun, and shot, hitting the man squarely between the shoulders. He looked at his two colleagues, slowly pulling themselves up off the floor. "Get him in a cell. NOW" He said, aggressively.
The civilians nearby pinned their backs to the wall in fright, one mother hunching over her children to protect them from the sudden burst of weapons fire. A teenager threw himself to the floor and balled up in fright, only to spring to his feet an instant later; angry with himself, angry with Starfleet, and generally angry with everyone, as is traditional for teenagers.
"Ey mate! You can't just, I mean..." he shouted, his voice trailing off as his underdeveloped sense of self-preservation started screaming in his ears not to wind up the guy gunning down his countrymen. "Er, sorry guy. I, uh. Yeah." he grunted, trying to stay macho while backing away down the corridor.
"Timothy? Timothy!" came a shrill voice, echoing down the corridor. A woman in her forties, laden with numerous shoulder bags and dragging an oversized suitcase, ignored the petrified audience and stormed up to the teenager. "Where have you been?! I'm not carrying all of the bags myself! Take these!" she demanded, shrugging off a pair of purple shoulder bags and casting them angrily at his feet.
Not so mature as to be able to resist his mother's voice, the teenager sulked as he put the straps onto his shoulders. His mother, having had a chance to vent, finally noticed that the other civilians were deathly silent. Spotting the guy on the floor, she rounded on her son.
"Timothy! What did you do!? You know we can't afford another fine, young man! Can't you go five minutes without getting into trouble!?" she shrieked, gripping him hard by the ear.
"Owowowow! Mum, I didn't *do* anything!" Timothy protested, bent almost double by his mother's vice-like grip on his ear.
Ignoring him, the woman tidied her hair with her other hand and offered a charming smile to Preston. "I'm *so* sorry for all this trouble, officer. Boys will be boys, and this one's going to get *such* a thick ear later, I promise you." she told him, shaking her boy's ear for emphasis, continuing to ignore the whimpers from the innocent teen.
"Ma'am, I appreciate that, but your son has done nothing to us today." Preston turned to the young boy. "And I would apologise for scaring you. Unfortunately it was necessary that that man didn't get away." He looked back at his two colleagues who hadn't moved, and tapped his commbadge. "Preston to medical, can I get a medical team down to Checkpoint Foxtrot please." He then gestured to two other Security members to take the stunned man to the brig.
Groves had finally caught up the escapee, finding him face down in the ground. "Preston! What the hell happened? Did you phaser him?" Groves looked in disbelief, before he got down beside the young man, checking his pulse, he noticed a significant amount of heat radiating from his abdomen.
"Uh, did you scan him? There is a lot of heat coming from his stomach." Richard glanced up at the two security officers who where in position to take him away, "Don't move him. There is something not right here. Preston, give me your tricorder."
Preston chucked over his tricorder. "We scanned him, but didn't get a look at the results." He pulled out his PADD and passed it to Groves also. "It's all on there boss."
As the Security officers bantered over a tricorder and a padd, Tim the Teen (who was still rubbing his recently-released ear) froze as he stared at the man on the floor.
"Err, hey, guys? Wot's 'is gut doin'?" he asked, pointing at the guy's stomach as he backed away down the corridor. His mother opened her mouth to snap at him, glanced once at what her son was pointing at, and decided now was not the best time to get snippy. Instead, she shepherded her boy down the corridor, making fair speed despite the bags.
On the floor, the unconscious man was twitching in his sleep, sweating profusely. One hand curled subconsciously around his belly as a faint light glowed through his shirt; rising slowly but surely in intensity.
"Crap..." Felix muttered to himself. "Any ideas boss?" He asked Groves, looking hopeful.
Reading the tricorder, Groves looked up to the surrounding people. “Everybody back up. Seems there is some sort of sensor reflecting material embedded in his gut.... it’s not overly effective.”
He leaned in a bit closer to the suspects stomach, pressing with the tips of his fingers, feeling around for any clues as to what might be causing the glow. The senseation of heat passed through the young mans skin and caused Groves to remove his hand quickly.
“Yeah, his stomach is irradiating heat. I would guess he’s got some sort of power supply embedded in his stomach... Maybe he’s a trafficker.” Groves stood again, taking a number of steps back.
”Excuse me! Excuse me!” A short, dark haired women in a medical officers uniform pushed her way through the onlookers, who reluctantly moved aside to let her pass. She gave an apologetic nod to Groves and Felix. “Sorry for being a bit late. We are positively swamped at the medical screening points.” She put down her medkit on the ground and turned towards her patient. “Now, what seems to be the probl...” Her jaw dropped as she saw the glow radiating from the man’s skin. “Wow! I’ve never seen anything like this!” She flipped open her tricorder and begun examining the site. “What the heck has happened here?”
Richard's protective instinct automatically set in and grabbed the medical officer by the biceps, pulling her back to a safe distance.
"Ma'am, stand back!" he took a step in front of her, “Groves to medical.” He tapped his com badge and awaited a response, “I’ve got a medical emergency in Ingress Concourse. Emergency transport, you’ll need a level 5 containment field - potentially embedded explosive device. Suggest you use only Holographic Medical personnel to perform extraction. ”
Richard threw the tricorder back over to Felix, as the suspect dematerialised with a blue glow. “Preston, keep on top of this. I’m going to brief the General. This is an uneasy development. We need to step up our security even more now.”
=^= End of Log =^=
Lt. Cmdr Richard Groves
Chief of Security
Versailles
&
Lt Felix Preston
Assistant Security Officer
Versailles
&
Dark-Haired Medic (NPC Niva)
Medical Officer
Versailles
&
Civilian Refugees (NPC Grey)
YaDalla
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