You Can't Handle The Truth

Posted on Mon Sep 23rd, 2019 @ 12:38pm by Captain Enalia Telvan & Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Ensign Varnok Jahal
Edited on on Mon Sep 30th, 2019 @ 12:47pm

Mission: Family Detention
Location: USS Hera, Deck 11, The Brig
Timeline: 2396

While the myriad details surrounding the kidnapping of Lieutenant and Mrs. Dox had been filed and analyzed, there were some facts available already. It was clear that the abductors were Tal Shiar trained. It was clear that they came prepared. Given how the two women fought, it was even suspected that their food may have been drugged to make them that much easier to capture. Seeing the grainy restaurant scans from their low-quality equipment the kidnapping team had not bothered to destroy, a ball of anger knotted itself in the stomach of the Hera’s first officer as she watched Mona Gonadie taken hostage, and the two women undone by their compassion.

This would not stand.

The Romulan baroness of the Artan Family Fleet of Privateers was one Sienae Nei’rrh, who had been cleared of any suspicion early on, in a session of interrogation which was likely not entirely civilized, given the code of pirates- privateers Paris reminded herself, as the captain had steered her family business onto a slightly more respectable course since taking it over. But to assuage the stain to her honor, she was cooperating fully with the crew of the USS Hera. Not only had she loaned her resident Miradonian spymaster Bedo Fritterson, but she had also offered to loan her personal T'liss class Bird of prey, the classic Romulan star cruiser from Rita’s era named ‘The Golden Ghost', to rendezvous with the Hera at the border of the Neutral Zone in order to ferry the insertion team into Romulan space.

Disguises would be donned, cosmetic alterations would be made, and already Rita was dreading the migraine that was to come from a ‘datadump’ learning method that would teach her how to speak Romulan and cultural cues she would need in order to be able to pass cursory examinations. But for now, it was time to set the stage and interrogate her three suspects.

Darok tr’Khev was the one who had scheduled the dinner. Aerv t'Lioh had garnered a voucher from the restaurant for a free meal. And Ria t’Narath was the one who had provided the flight plan clearance, which Rita was still unsure just how that made her a suspect.

While she would feel better using Gonadie as a lie detector, or even Sonak, Rita would work with the fine feathered fellow sent by the Romulan Baroness. Ideally, he could be trusted, and she planned to sit him behind the subjects, signaling lie or truth as needed without them being able to read his facial cues to know if they were being found out. Combined with Varnok’s specialty in information extraction, Paris was prepared to play the bad cop and get results. She was just coming off a two-month boot camp- her muscles were toned and strong, her confidence high, and she was quite motivated to have the truth.

In this matter, she would have that truth. Because in the words of her ancestor astronauts, failure was not an option.

“Mister Varnok, Mr. Fritterson, are you prepared?” Paris asked as she paced the small interrogation room, chosen specifically for its claustrophobic size. She had the lights dimmed low and the sound set to dampen, so that it would be hard to be heard and sound would not carry very well, all to add an element of suffocation and pressing urgency to the proceedings.

Varnok thought briefly to himself about the Doxes; if there was an ounce of information to be had, he would happily dig it out one way or another. Turning to the blonde senior officer with a grim look on his face, he replied, "Aye Commander."

"So, you're the good cop in this scenario, Mister Varnok. I am the bad cop, and Mister Fritterson is our lie detector. I'll assume you know this role well, so feel free to play it as broadly as you like, just remember- don't lie. We're Starfleet. We want the truth, and we will have it, but we can't stoop to their level." The conventionally cheerful commander cocked a quizzical eyebrow, and an unsettling smile crept across her face. "Omissions and suppositions, however, those we may choose to abound. Have I set the protocols for you appropriately, gentlemen? And remember, this is round one. We can keep doing this all the way to Galactic Barrier if we have to, so while there is urgency, we need not rush our work. Watch every nuance, every tel, learn whop these people are and convince them that it's in their better interest to come clean than to maintain their silence, and overcoming their fear of the Tal Shiar."

"Or," The golden ghost of another age admitted with palms to the overhead, "determining their innocence. But I suspect we've three criminals here. And that's where we begin."

-------------------

"CONSPIRACY!" Paris clattered the PaDD down on the table in front of Darok tr’Khev.

Jolting back at the display, tr’Khev looked genuinely surprised for a moment. Or, at the least, nothing about his body language indicated a hardened Tal'Shiar agent.

Dressed in a simple black tunic, tr’Khev was a bit thicker in the middle that not and was something that seemed fairly rare in his people: balding. He had the more prominent forehead ridges common for Romulans that the Dox women both lacked, and was a communications officer for Baroness Sienae Nei’rrh's flagship. According to the report, after the Captain's coronation dinner, where Lieutenant Dox spoke with the Romulan Baroness and she had recommended the restaurant, he was ordered to handle some of the arrangements and make their reservations.

But the initial investigations revealed a gap in time while he was on duty after making those arrangements. A three minute period where he had been logged in where not even background static had been recorded from his comm station. Just long enough to send a message and erase the record.

“You see, there are three of you involved here. Each of you played your parts and contributed. So since that means more than one, a conspiracy. Multiple counts of kidnapping? That’s 6 years in a penal colony followed by another two years in a rehabilitation center. But conspiracy? That charge carries a minimum of 20 years in a maximum-security penal colony. Five years of rehabilitation. Oh, and we add it to the kidnapping charge. So despite your longevity compared to we short-lived Humans,” Paris lectured as she stared the man down, “that’s a big chunk of your life to be eating prison rations and replicated gruel.”

“So talk. Cooperate with us now and we can cut a deal, and you don’t have to go to a penal colony with the rest of your conspirators. You can walk out of here today a free man. Or you can make this hard on us, and force us to squeeze the truth out of you inch by inch. I’ll keep coming back every day, in a progressively worse mood as I get migraines and stress headaches from all of this, and the deal is going to get worse every day I offer it to you. So this is your golden ticket, Darok. Sing now and you go free. Make me work for that conviction, and I promise you will have a very long time to regret it.”

Looking extremely nervous, the thick-middled balding man scrunched up in his seat uncomfortably. He could hear the feathers of the man sitting behind him bristle slightly, and to the side of the gold-clad human woman was a narrow-eyed Cardassian simply watching. But if tr’Khev was faking his nervousness, he was doing it well. "My... my baroness said to cooperate, so I'm here to cooperate. I made dinner reservations on my Mistresses behalf for one of her fellow baronesses. Baroness Nei’rrh is a co-owner of the restaurant and simply wanted our ship to extend a courtesy to this woman for her efforts during the tribunal."

Nothing he said wasn't in the report, but gave no additional information meaning nothing he had yet said could register as a lie to either the canny Miradonian in the back or the scanning equipment that was having a hard time determining anything as his agitated state made almost everything he said register inconclusively.

At that, the miniskirted maverick’s eyes narrowed, and a mirthless smile settled onto her face. “Do you know what I love about Romulans? They are renown throughout the galaxy as being lying, backstabbing cheats, sneaks in the night, all of that. But it’s like they pride themselves on what they DON’T say. I notice there was no denial of the conspiracy charge. No denial of involvement. No protestation of innocence. You’re here to waste my time, aren’t you, inmate?” Paris leaned on the table, her gaze seething.

“I absolutely ABHOR having my time wasted. Beam this idiot back to his cell, since he doesn’t seem to understand how to NOT be a sneaky, shifty, shitty excuse for a Romulan,” Paris snarled, as Varnok spoke up.

"So, Mr. tr’Khev..." Varnok said, tapping the PaDD in his hand as if it was not working. "It appears you have worked yourself into quite the... emotional state."

The nervous-looking suspect eyed Paris then eyed the Cardassian in the gray, Starfleet Intelligence Uniform with a suspicious expression.

The stern-looking Cardassian gave a little bow and a light clap, tucking the PaDD under his arm. "Quite the performance. A bit old and overused but effective, forcing your vitals into a stressed state to confuse the sensors and muddy the readings." Pulling the PaDD back out from under his arm and entering some data, Varnok said quietly, "My kingdom for the days of the Order."

As the cagey Cardassian spoke, the nervous Romulan tensed up. Tal'Shair or not, even as an Artan Pirate tr’Khev would have known enough about the legendary Obsidian Order to give him pause. And, of course, he had no way of knowing that the Starfleet Officer was only 15 when the Cardassian Secret Police was disbanded as it was particularly hard to peg his age from just looking at him.

Giving a sly, unsettling grin to the seated Romulan, Varnok continued, "It is going to be such pleasure to relieve you of your secrets. I do hope you will give them willingly. Do tell us what you were doing during those three minutes, either you are inept or you had a message to send. Which is it?"

"I am not inept, I perform my duties diligently and with honor." tr’Khev spoke, fumbling over his words slightly. "I... cannot speak to whatever technical issues may have caused the gap in the records."

Keeping his stony facade, the Cardassian leaned forward on the table, "Come now, you said you were not inept so the only technical error would have been you. Maintenance reported the communications board was functioning properly. So let's talk about this message you sent."

As he stepped back from the table, Varnok bluntly stated, "To whom was this message sent?"

The flustered Romulan opened his mouth as if to answer, but then caught the words in his throat and went cold, folding his arms in front of him, saying nothing. As he did, Varnok turned to Paris and said plainly, "If he doesn't answer, we can always sedate him."

“No need, Mr. Varnok,” Paris snarled. “He’s the weakest link, the one who did the least in this entire affair. So when we’re adding up charges, his would have been the least of the sentences. But I’m certain that his co-conspirators will be happy to sell him out, so frankly, I’m not that interested in what he doesn’t have to say. Get this slug out of my sight. We’ll likely not speak again, Mr. tr’Khev, given that you have nothing to offer. I do hope you enjoy rotting in prison. I hear Federation prisons are a particular delight for Romulan prisoners, particularly those who have had to fight Romulans… oh, and the ones who spent time in Romulan penal colonies. Not that we humans would ever hold grudges like that.”

At that statement, Paris let a slow and remarkably unpleasant smile spread across her face. “So since he’s chosen honor amongst thieves, I’ll be happy to ensure he gets the maximum sentence. Now get him out of my sight. Goodbye, Mr. tr’Khev. You will have plenty of time to reflect upon this discussion in the years to come.”

At that, the door of the interrogation room opened, and in strode the two burly and intimidating Klingon security officers, V'Nus and S'Rina of house Wil'I'Ams. Grasping the prisoner under the arms, they roughly hauled him to his feet.

"Ladies, this is the trash responsible for one minuscule portion of the Dox kidnapping conspiracy. Escort him back to his cell so that he may begin the long contemplation of his ruined life ahead, and just whom he is more afraid of- Federation prison or whomever is blackmailing him. I trust you will not lose a grip on him en route. And if he tries to run, remember- we're Starfleet. We don't kill. Crippling..." Paris left the sentence to trail off.

The taller of the two, V'Nus, turned to give her sister S'Rina what could almost be describes as a smile which was returned eerily. Then they started the suspect out of the room with a harsh tug on his arms, "Come along, p’tak!”

Of course, the dedicated and decorated Security amazons would do no such thing. And Rita herself was skirting the truth with that one. But at this point she was surprised by her own vehemence. The missing Dox family was a subject she was attempting to deal with rationally. But in point of fact, she was furious. Thus none of the threats she had made were inaccurate- she would have grey hair before Darok tr’Khev was a free man again, and she would see to it personally. She had offered the man a genuine chance, and he had chosen poorly. She would have no regrets whatsoever about insuring his life was ruined, and beyond that, the Artan family of pirates would all know who he was, and that he was branded as a traitor, and be made fully aware of the date of his release from prison. She suspected that even when his sentence was up, his life expectancy would not be very long at all... and she was surprisingly fine with that.

Betrayed Romulans, it was said, had very long memories. She suspected the Baroness Nei’rrh would be happy to prove that in thirty years or so.

--------------

After a few minutes, the next suspect was brought in and sat down. Aerv t'Lioh was one of many assistants to Baroness Nei’rrh and was the equivalent of a boatswain in old terminology.

She was an older woman, looking close to Jaeih Dox's age with mid-length, graying hair in a bob. She was wearing a deep green, high necked top and had a severe, gaunt face and seemed to be making little effort to conceal her anxiety. Her hands were tented in front of her on the table as she trained her eyes down and waited.

According to the report, she acquired the voucher for the free meal which also gave her access to the timeline, how many people would be there. She had the when, where and how and that was a lot of information. And she also had family on Romulus that could have been used as leverage against her.

"MISTER Varnok, I am in a mood already with these discussions and I don't suspect my mood is apt to improve with this interview. Open the negotiations with our cards on the table, if you please?" Tapping at what she considered to be the relevant points of the intel report they had, the curvaceous commander leaned back in her chair. Propping her black knee-length explorer's boots up onto the table, the Starfleet siren leaned the chair back, crossed her fingers in her lap, set her face in the manner of a disapproving schoolmarm and waited to see what the junior officer had to offer.

As angry as she was at the first suspect, Rita Paris recognized that she was emotionally compromised and needed to calm down before interacting with another suspect.

So, she would analytically observe how the ensign- again, the ancient astronaut reminded herself to reprimand the Cardassian officer for disobeying her order. He'd been aboard for some time now, and he had yet to take his JG exam, as she'd instructed him to do at his first opportunity during his onboarding. It pointed to a problem, which she didn't yet know, but she'd work out. Meanwhile, handing him the exam and giving him time to work on it would give him something to do, and a distraction from the pending perilous mission. Charging into peril was a very different game that taking a slow boat to peril, and Paris knew how the stressors could add up. But that was for her to spring on him later. For now, she literally kicked back to watch the interrogation technique from the good cop.

Varnok stepped forward and looked over the middle-aged Romulan woman sitting before him. Scanning her face for any sign of trepidation. Glancing down at the PaDD in his hand, he locked gazes with her and stated, “We know you acquired the voucher for the free meal and also set up the time for the dinner. Is that correct?”

T'Lioh fidgeted slightly, glancing nervously at Paris who sat with her feet up on the table watching, then back to the calm Cardassian standing before her. She was clearly trying to figure out how to answer and didn’t seem to know what to do. “Ie. Y… yes, that is correct. I handle many such matters for the Baroness.”

Glancing down at his PaDD again, the biorhythms of the woman showed that she was being truthful, as did the slight nod from the living lie-detector sitting in the rear of the room. Encouraged by her willingness to give just that small truth, the Cardassian Intel officer sat on the edge of the table.

Immediately, the woman stiffened ever so slightly with nerves but didn’t pull away.

“We just spoke with your compatriot and know that you set up the whole evening. Why should we not believe that this was your plan all along?” Varnok said plainly.

“I was… I didn’t... “ She hemmed and hawed, clearly trying to choose her words carefully and beginning to look extremely pained. “I didn’t know anything about a plan when... I just did what I was told to do.” As she spoke, reading the biorhythms, he could tell that the statements were again true.

Reading the fear on the woman’s face, Varnok followed his instincts and placed his hand on hers. She flinched slightly, but looked up at him with pleading eyes. He smiled gently at her and said, “They threatened your family, didn’t they?”

At that, she snatched her hand back and her eyes went wide and shined with tears she was terrified to let slip out. “I… I… I can’t... “ She began shaking her head. “Elements forgive me, yes.”

Turning his head, Varnok looked over to Commander Paris, who had been following the exchange.

Still kicked back in the chair, Paris spoke calmly and evenly. "Were you or your family to be in jeopardy as a result of blackmail, as a private citizen there is very little I can do for you. However, as a witness in a criminal organization to finger a conspiracy, you and your family would be taken into protective custody by the Federation and relocated. Even extended family. Starfleet loves colonists, after all."

"We are currently in a very, very secure room. I guarantee you any signal in or out we are aware of an in control over, and whatever you say only aids your case with us. I'll hear your testimony and I'll tell you if we have a deal. So..." Paris dropped her feet off the table and landed all 4 feet of the chair on the floor, coming to fold her hands in front of her as she was now seated at the table and paying attention.

"Talk to me. What do you know and what can you prove, Ms. t'Lioh?"

Dipping her head, t'Lioh began to slowly shake her head as if she were to decline, but when she spoke, there was a weak crack in her voice. "What I know is not enough to engender your mercy... nor can you do anything for them, Commander."

Looking back up, she wiped a tear from her eyes as she continued. "My sons... my two sons are nothing more than factory workers. They pooled all their coin to..." Collecting herself, she took a breath, closed her eyes and started over. "I am a unificationist... but there are very few legal ways one gets off ch'Rihan where such beliefs are safe, Commander. My sons arranged such a way. They paid... all that they had... to get my name in the lottery as a colonist. From the colony... I was... recruited into the Baronesses service. Service from one Empire to another, I suppose. I could earn my way to a unificationist world for some time serving her, so I accepted."

Then she actually cracked with a light chuckle, "But no, that's not what you want to know. No. I was approached by the communications officer, Darok tr’Khev. I'd never liked the man in the two years we'd worked together. He... he came to me more friendly than usual, talking about the woman... the Baroness Dox and their dinner arrangements that Baroness Nei’rrh wanted to have arranged on their behalf. The voucher was to be open-ended. To be used at Baroness Dox's convenience. But tr'Khev said that he needed me to revise the schedule. To make the voucher for a set date and time."

"When... when I told him that I would need to clear such changes through Baroness Nei’rrh, he changed. He went cold with me... the kind of coldness I'd only ever seen from soldiers on the hearthworld. He... produced a small PaDD with scans of my families home. With images of my sons... their wives... my grandchildren. He said nothing on the images, letting me make what connections in my own mind was required. Then he gave me the exact day and time that he needed me to make the meal voucher for. And... and I complied."

The weary woman hung her head again and let out the longest breath as if it were her last. "That is all I know, Commander. I am nothing in this... conspiracy. A tool along the way. And even if I knew enough to satisfy your needs, there would be nothing you could do for my family. They never got away. They live still on ch'Rihan. If they are not already gone for my having been questioned, it is only a matter of time. It would be better had Baroness Nei’rrh simply killed me for her suspicions."

“You’ll be granted sanctuary within the Federation, and I will arrange passage for you to a unificationist colony. You have my word,” Paris began, offering sincerity that she hoped would be seen as such before continuing. “If you get me the coordinates of your family, I will see what can be done. I can’t make any promises, but… well, we have a habit of doing the impossible around here, so give us something to work with and we’ll do our best.”

“Now, given that you have been very straightforward in this matter, are you willing to testify to attest to these facts? It sounds like you have no proof, only hearsay at this point, just conversations?” Paris couldn’t play the ‘bad cop’ for long, given her nature. But this was a lead, a solid lead, and it had pointed out just who the true architect of this case had been all along.

The older Rihannsu woman looked up into Paris' deep, blue eyes. Then over to Varnok's. Both offered compassion that she was unprepared for and didn't quite know how to process. But after a moment, she shook her head again, looked down and spoke.

"No. I would have you take no action there. Either his threats have already been carried out and they are gone, or they were idle threats meant to frighten a weak, old woman and any attention you shined on them would only bring about the same harm I fear. No." Then she looked back up. "But I will testify in whatever capacity the truth requires. I... I have little left but the frayed remnants of my mnhei'sahe, but I will fulfill its demands one last time, Commander. You have my word."

Stiffening inadvertently at the mention of the first name of the kidnapped chief flight control officer, Paris cocked an eyebrow. “I appreciate that, ma'am. Your Mnhei’sahe? Are you related to our Miss Dox, Ms. t’Lioh?”

For the slightest of moments, t’Lioh was confused as she processed the question. But as she did, she shook her head slightly. "No more than I am to any daughter of ch'Rihan, Commander. No, the Baroness's name, 'Mnhei'sahe', is the name for Rihannsu Ruling Passion."

"It is the chief principle of honor by which our people live their lives, Commander. Or, at least, should. The Baroness holds as her name, our highest virtue, heaviest burden, and greatest responsibility." t’Lioh finished.

“I… did not know that,” Par is admitted, marveling that she’d known the woman for a year and didn’t know that. Of course, her own name was the shortened form of a fruity drink of which her father had been fond, which was the name of a yellow flower or, from the root language, a pearl. “At any rate, don’t count yourself out, Miss t'Lioh, and don’t imagine nothing can be done. I might just be in that neighborhood soon, and you’d be surprised what a motivated earth girl can accomplish when she sets her mind to it. In the meanwhile you’ve cooperated with us fully, and we’ll see you protected for it, assuming we can prove this.”

"Then may the Elements be with us all, Commander. I remain at your disposal." t’Lioh said, offering a respectful bow. She was still afraid and still deeply shaken, but she was allowing herself the sliver of hope… a thing that Rita Paris had a powerful ability to bring out in others.

After a moment, Commander Paris called in a different security officer. This time, the petite little fireplug, Petty Officer Liu, who was instructed to return the woman to guarded quarters, rather than a cell. It seemed prudent to set the tone for further cooperation, as the woman had been cooperative and, according to the room’s sensors, Rita’s instincts and the Miradonian man at the rear of the room, truthful.

------------

But there was no time for additional pleasantries between Paris or Varnok, as it was only a moment after she had left that V’Nus and S’Rina returned, flanking the next and final suspect to be interrogated. The security officers lead her in, waiting outside the door as the woman entered and walked around the table, her head held unusually high. Ria t’Narath was the Baroness Nei’rrh’s flight control officer. The tall, leanly build Romulan woman had long, thick brown hair pulled back into a looped braid and a calm, slightly irritated expression as she sat down.

The Baroness had a small fleet of ships and Ria t’Narath was in charge of managing the pilots and flight plans of them all. And, in regards to the kidnapping, she had managed the flight plan clearance of Lieutenant Dox’s personal ship, The Khallianen, at the Enox VI moon where the Baronesses restaurant was located. Arguably, it was difficult to figure out how that made her a suspect, but she had a strangely arrogant attitude that made her seem more than a little suspicious in the moment.

Taking a silent moment to assess the woman, Paris assembled an internal image of her, making character suppositions and considering her approach. Inspecting her like a zoological specimen, Paris turned to the Cardassian intelligence officer. “I suspect that despite the evidence in hand, Ms. t’Narath is just going to stick to her story and plead ignorance. What do you think, Mr. Varnok?”

Speaking about the woman as if she were not there was a dig she suspected would start off the questioning putting her off balance, so Paris pressed that button, and pressed the point.

"Well, obviously this woman has no mnhei'sahe, and her haughty airs tell be she will be nothing but difficult," Varnok said, looking down at his PaDD as if the woman were not even there and not worth his attention. "And considering what we already know, I doubt she has much to tell us."

Raising an eyebrow at the bait, t’Narath leaned back slightly in the chair and waited.

“So. Surprise us, Ms. t’Narath. Tell us something about this case we don’t already know. Give us some insight into why we shouldn’t just proceed with what we have already, and get those conspiracy charges filed against you all?” Paris affected an offhanded and casual air as if the details of the case were a moot point by now.

Looking first at Paris, then over to Varnok, than back to Paris, t'Narath took them both in. The anachronistic uniform, the pips on each, the colors. Their faces and expressions. She took it all in a moment while she processed what she would say next.

"Really, Commander? No overtures? No offers? I know you got nothing from tr'Khev. He's an idiot, but a loyal one. Even if you had the two Klingons beat him within an inch of his life, he wouldn't talk. And poor t'Lioh is less than a pawn in this and frankly, has nothing of value to give you. So, points for the effort, but I think I will require a little more effort here." The arrogant woman said, her eyes half-lidded as she had the hint of a petulant frown in place.

Turning to grin at the intelligence officer, Commander Paris settled back into her chair, crossed her legs smartly then opened her hands wide in a display of interest. "Mister Varnok, I give you the brains- the mastermind. By all means, Miss t'Narath, entertain me. Showcase your brilliance. We hang upon your every word." Paris cocked an eyebrow as she fluttered her lashes and smiled a close-lipped smile.

Glancing up at the woman with only his eyes for a second, Varnok sighed. "Moriarty she is not, Commander. A second rate agent from a second rate organization, at best."

Watching the display from the two, t’Narath rolled her eyes slightly and leaned forward on the table slightly. The power play going on wasn't going anywhere and her information needed to be shown at least a little for her to have any leverage in the moment. “Very well… you need me to show a card so you’ll take me seriously.”

Turning to look at the Miradonian in the rear of the room, t’Narath frowned slightly and let out a sigh. Turning back, she continued. “I joined Baroness Nei’rrh’s organization seven months ago, give or take a week. I and tr'Khev have been operating undercover for our government for that time under the orders of the Tal'Shiar. There specifically to find a way to get closer to your missing Lieutenant... Nei’rrh’s fellow Baroness.”

Then she leaned in further towards Rita with narrowing eyes. “And we weren't the only operatives tasked with getting closer to your 'Mnhei'sahe Dox'. The Tal'Shiar might have already had an agent on this very ship had the shuttlecraft ‘Ghidora’ carrying our deep-cover asset, listed in your records as ‘atmospheric systems engineer Chief C'huk’, not exploded before it could get to you thanks to the former Artan Queen’s less-than-subtle machinations during the Tribunal.”

“Supposition and hearsay. You’ll have to do better than that, Ms. t’Narath,” Paris dismissed. She’d, of course, run an investigation on the intel, but as of this moment, Rita still wasn’t buying what the ‘smarter than you’ Romulan woman was peddling. Generally, it was her experience that challenging such individuals tended to make them overplay their hands, and that’s what she was nudging the woman toward. “Anyone can create a rumor.”

"And at no point did the Miradonian behind me shake his head, nor did the PaDD in the Ensign's hand report falsehood on my part, Commander." t’Narath commented, sitting back a bit more, with an exasperated expression. She knew the game being played all too well and was irritated to be wasting her time playing it. "Which you will pretend to dismiss all the while making mental notes and shuffling your proverbial deck to see how I shall react. Very well."

"You want to know what other cards are in my hand... The stories and the proof to support them... I want certain assurances. No more handouts, Commander." t’Narath commented with a serious expression, staring Rita straight on. 

“Assurances are easy, especially when you’re offering nothing for it. I can make it worth your while, but I need something tangible. After all, you’re counting on this deal, otherwise, all of your machinations go down the drain. And we both know I’ll turn you back over to the pirates if I can’t prove your part in the conspiracy, but I suspect Romulan pirates are very, very forgiving, given to parliamentary procedure and they always ensure that there is proof before taking revenge. So play this however you like. I’m not the one whose ass is on the line here.” Paris played a few of her cards to show more of her position. The woman could ask for assurances all day long, but given her attitude and approach, Paris was currently debating another point, which she, in turn, played as well.

“I’m sure that should the Artan pirates interrogate you, they will, of course, adhere to only the most humane of conditions and would never dream of using more direct means of information extraction. So you go ahead and play your ‘I’ve got all the cards’ position, and let’s see how that works for you, because this is your ONE chance. You walk out that door without giving me anything, you go back to the Artans, to the tender mercies of the Romulan Baroness you betrayed. So tell me again how I need to make assurances to you?” Paris sat back and waited, to see if her logic would penetrate or if the arrogant criminal thought she was bluffing… which of course, she was not.

To which t'Narath actually laughed and shook her head. "Do you honestly think I'm not aware of that, Commander? I've already admitted to you that I am a Tal'Shiar spy. A sleeper in the Artan organization. I am likely more aware than you are just how impossible my predicament really is. Once the Tal'Shiar KNOW I've been interrogated, they will seek to have me eliminated regardless of what I say as a simple precaution."

"And the Artan's... they will do so with extreme prejudice. Otherwise, I would have said what I knew while still at the base. Why else do you think I played suspiciously until this ship was warping away from that fortress at high speed. You're the Federation. Starfleet. You stand by your word and offer mercy to even the undeserving." t'Narath commented, sounding slightly more agitated now. 

"Promise me protection from both, and I will tell you what I know and give you the evidence to prove it, Commander. It's really quite simple. You need what I know and I need what you can do for me." Then the cynical Romulan woman gave up one more card to nail her point home. "Your... ass... may not be on the line, but the Granddaughter of Senator Verelan t'Rul's certainly is."

The reaction that was supposed to elicit wasn’t there, because now Paris had heard enough. “Yes it is. So, are we really going to keep bandying about with these little power plays, or are you going to tell me what you know? Because frankly, at this point you already know what I can do for you.”

“Apparently you don’t know what else I can do,” Paris fairly snarled. She’d done all right up til now, or so she felt, but this was someone in specific she could take out her frustrations over the situation- an admitted spy who wanted to play games with the lives of people she cared about. ”You want to play hardball? We’ll be rendezvousing with the Romulan baroness at the border. So don’t think you are out of the frying pan. Instead, I’m the only one standing between you and the fire, and frankly, I’m sick of hearing your bullshit and evasions and games.”

Standing, Paris brushed off her skirt and picked up her PaDD, clearly done with the proceedings. “So you can give me something real, or I can hand you over to them and when they get the truth out of you they’ll let me know… since you so generously waived any chance at striking a deal with Starfleet. You want to know what I am prepared to do to you? Leave you to the pirate’s tender mercies and see what the chunks of you that can still communicate have to say when they’re done with you. I imagine they'll be thrilled at how long they've been harboring a spy, and they'll be so excited to see you again.

"So make your play, spy, because you have five seconds before any hope of any sort of deal with Starfleet walks out that door, and my report will read that in my professional opinion, you had nothing of value to offer the investigation. For the record, I think you’re bluffing. Me?” Paris leaned in enough for the overhead light to throw her face in shadow, those blue eyes piercing in their glare at the Romulan agent. “I. Do. Not. Bluff.”

Fuming, the Romulan woman looked at Varnok, whose face was a mix of irritation and disgust as if he had smelled a particularly bad cheese, then back to the enraged Commander whom she had no doubt wasn't bluffing. As she did, she spoke in a voice that was clearly trying to sound calmer than it was.

"Dox and her mother are on the D'deridex-class Warbird, 'The People's Will'. It is the Senatorial flagship of her Grandmother, who IS on board. It is being escorted by a Leosa Class Warbird called 'the Iurret'... 'the Silence'. I cleared the airspace around Enox VI for them and have their sub-space comm frequencies." She all but hissed in contempt.

"I also recorded the three-minute comm message from tr'Khev to his contact on the Iurret. A SubCommander named t'Suil serving under the command of an operative of the Tal'Shiar named Riov Dalia Rendal. He gave them the time and place for the kidnapping." She added for good measure. "Under cloak, even command cannot track them, but with those comm frequencies, you can intercept their communications with ch'Rihan."

“The recording?” Paris asked. “Again, all of this can be hearsay and misinformation from the Tal Shiar. Funny thing, spend a few centuries establishing yourselves as the best liars and cheats in the galaxy, it tends to work against you when you want to be believed.” Paris held out her hand, knowing the woman would have the data hidden on her person.

“Prove what you say, and Starfleet will protect you from both the Artans and the Romulans. Are you any good at crypto analysis, by chance…?” Paris asked with something of a sly smile creeping up at the corners of her mouth as if enjoying a private joke, which in truth was precisely what she was doing, the wheels already turning in her mind and plans forming.

Cricking an eyebrow, t’Narath sighed slightly. "It's not something I have on me commander, but rather... in me. The data is encoded as resequenced biological tags in my blood. Not new technology, but still effective at smuggling data places without having to carry anything incriminating on your person."

"The technology to which she refers is old at best. We have the means to... extract that information right here and the readers in the pod to decipher it. It would be my pleasure to get that information for you, Commander." Varnok commented with a sly grin that did not meet the coldness in his eyes.

"That call is up to you, Ms. t'Narath. Time to put up or shut up, and time for you to make the decision that you trust me and Starfleet at our word and give up your proof, or you can play games all the way back to the Artans. Make your decision." There was no time limit given on it, because while under ordinary circumstances Paris would let the prisoner stew in her cell over the decision, time was a luxury they lacked. Besides, she wanted those answers. Plans needed data, and a Senator's Romulan starship headed for the Romulan homeworld was not anything remotely like good news for the Dox family. But there was a way- there was always a way, and Rita would figure it out if she just knew a little bit more.

Which depended on this arrogant, stubborn spy's cooperation.

Clenching her jaw slightly, t'Narath just stared at the steely-eyed Commander, unblinkingly. She could read a liar from a sector away, and while Paris was clearly boiling with anger, she had never lied. As such, t'Narath made her choice, rolled up a sleeve and held her arm out on the table in front of Varnok. "I presume you have a hypo available? Three milliliters would be sufficient for the data."

"Not at all what I had in mind to retrieve the sample, but it will have to do, little prick that it is." Varnok replied with a cold edge to his voice that surprised even him. 

I would rather smash your smug face to the table for your part in what's happened to my friends. But this will have to do. The normally cautious Cardassian thought to himself as he realized just then how much the absence of some of the only personal connections he had made in his short time on the ship had affected him. 

But the sample would be extracted and studied, and the information would be retrieved and verified, and the crew of the Hera would get their crewmembers back, one way or another.