The Cold of a Case Report

Posted on Fri Jun 23rd, 2023 @ 10:54am by Warrant Officer Samual Johnson

2,097 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Mission 4 - Like a Thunderbolt
Location: Security Offices

Rook leaned back in his chair and tossed the ball toward the ceiling. He watched as it floated up then came back down to land right back in his hand. He didn't have to move more than a finger's twitch. He tossed it again, then again before catching it and setting it on the desk. It was a ball from a game of old Earth that Jim introduced Rook too shortly after bringing him to Earth. It was a game that Jim was passionate about but Rook liked only enough to play it if asked. Yet, it reminded him of the 'talking rule' and as long as he had the ball, he had the right to talk. Except, there wasn't anybody to talk to. Not yet at least. He glanced at the message on the screen. He picked up the ball and tossed it into the air again.

After a few minutes he finally heard the beep indicating the call was finally connecting. He couldn't be too surprised. Between the station's status as "being built" and the need for resources to be concerned with that function – he heard the new captain was expecting the station to be completed in three or four days. Then the signal had to be routed through the subspace systems until it found wherever Jim was. Honestly, he should be grateful it connected at all.

"Rook!" Jim said, smiling across the vast light years between wherever he was and where Rook sat. "Didn't expect you to be missing me so much that you needed to call so soon!"

Rook only shrugged. "Not so much you, but need some information and you're the only one I know who might know about it."

"Dad?" Jim immediately asked, his jocularity fading.

"No, not anything I've heard anyway. I'm sure Katherine would let you know as soon as she could. No," Rook said as he leaned forward, setting the ball back in the holder on his desk. "This is about work."

"Oh, well, then I'm definitely your man. Definitely the one to help my little brother out, cause someone's gotta help him continue to still seem somewhat as awesome as his awesome big brother."

Rook heard someone mutter something in the background. He didn't exactly understand the words said, but the general gist was in support of him. Jim turned to look at someone off camera. What was said was in old El Aurian so the universal translator on his end didn't bother to change it to Federation Standard. Rook chuckled. It was good to know that even Jim's friends were still able to grow tired of him now and then. "Alright, fine, since I have to uphold the honor and legacy of the Barnes's in Starfleet, lay your problem on me and fixing it will cost you on the sliding scale of difficulty."

"Sure," Rook said, smiling again. "Have you heard of an organization called the Black Hand?"

Jim's demeanor changed almost instantly. He sat up and stared directly at the viewscreen. Rook saw movement behind Jim and a low buzzing that he didn't even know was there suddenly deadened. "What's going on? Why are you asking about the Black Hand?"

"I ran into someone claiming to be part of this organization. He's in my brig now, waiting charges and transport to a detention facility."

"Low level? Get the idea that he's just bragging? You need to keep an eye on him then. He's not safe if he's claiming membership."

"I think he's actually in the group," Rook was frowning without realizing it. Jim was confirming this organization was something he was going to need to find out about.

"What did you bust him for?" Jim asked, looking at something off screen. Rook heard muttering again, this time as if they were deliberately keeping the conversation low. Jim responded, in the same low tones, "...my brother...Faltan Station..."

"A variety but mostly attempted kidnapping. He was chasing this woman and her kids-"

"Stop, hold up," Jim said, turning directly back to the viewscreen. "Slow down a moment. A woman? Naula?"

"Nauva is the little girl, her daughter. Eluana was the woman." Jim held up a hand again but then took the unusual step to mute the channel. Rook watched as there was some flurry of activity taking place just off screen.

Finally, after what seemed to drag on interminably, Jim returned to the screen. "Elauna, Nauva and an infant? They were there?"

"Yes, why is that-" Rook started.

"You had contact with them? You arrested someone coming after them?"

"Yes, Jim what's-"

"You got a report on that?" Jim asked. Rook recognized the intensity thrumming from his brother. It was like this when Jim was actually working, when he let go of his 'frat-boy' persona, dropped it to reveal the incredibly capable and proficient officer he was. That his simple query about what he thought was going to be some gang of wannabe hoodlums going after scared women and shopkeepers sent chills through him. Jim wouldn't be reacting this way if it weren't something more. Something bigger.

"I do," Rook said leaning forward to grab his PaDD. He was already calling it up and preparing to send it across the communication channel when Jim told him to do exactly that.

"Okay, I got it. Look, Rook, stay right there. Let me look this over and I'll get back to you in a few. Got it? Don't go anywhere."

"Sure, Jim, but, what's going on? What have I got here?"

Jim sighed and leaned forward, as if trying to sotto voca across light years. "I'll try to tell you more when I call you back. Just be there so I can, got it?"

"Yes," Rook said.

"And put additional security on whoever you have there. Triple it if you can." Jim moved back and looked at a PaDD he was just handed. "I shouldn't be too long."

Rook sighed as he leaned back in the chair, the ball already in his hand. "How am I going to explain this?" Rook asked the empty office. They were on scant resources as it was and he was expected to triple the guard on one prisoner?

It was two mugs of root beer and half a third before the loud, almost obnoxious, beeping came from his terminal. It indicated a priority channel directed to him. Directed directly to him, not routed through the station's communications offices as per normal.

"Jim, what's-" He stopped as he noticed Jim, but another person sitting next to him. He too wore lieutenant commander pips but they were less shiny, somewhat worn. Indicating they were a lieutenant commander long before Jim was promoted. He was Terran, his shaved head gleaming in the light on the other side of the galaxy. He merely sat, his arms folded across his broad chest. Dark blue eyes stared at Rook in a manner that indicated Rook should be considering asking for legal representation.

"A transport, the Molon Labe, will be arriving in the next thirty six hours to take your prisoner. They will have warrants and extradition from Starfleet Command to authorize his immediate release into their custody. Hopefully word will get to your CO and SecChief so there shouldn't be any issues."

"Okay, Jim, that's-"

"I'm sure Commander Barnes doesn't need to stress the importance of making sure this person is readily available to be taken into custody by the crew of the Labe?"

"No, sir," Rook said, his frown deepening. He only flicked a glance to the imposing lieutenant commander.

"Is the information in your report accurate?" the man, whom Rook noticed was not introduced to him at all.

"If Rook wrote it, you can count on every word being true," Jim said. Rook was glad to hear a note of indignation in Jim's voice.

"Yes, but this colony you stated as her destination? That's not a cover for where she was actually going?"

"No, sir," Rook said, grabbing his mug of root beer and drinking deeply. Just to find a way to deflect that intense look. "That's exactly where she said she was going."

Without saying more, the other man stood and moved to the side. Rook, now putting a face to his voice, heard the rumble of his speech. Again, he wasn't able to understand what was being said, but the intensity was clear.

"Rook, listen to me carefully and don't get snotty little brother and try to argue with me, okay?"

"Sure, Jim, you know that." Rook said, setting the mug back on the desk, unmindful that he didn't put it on the coaster and the ring the condensation on the glass would leave afterward.

"You're to lock down this report. But first, you're going to go in and change the names of all those involved. You're to scrub out any reference to the Black Hand. Most importantly you're going to change the name of her destination to..." he shrugged, "...something. Something far away and in the opposite direction of Herba. Do you understand me so far?"

"Jim, no, why-"

"Warrant Johnson," Jim said, his voice stern in a way that Rook hadn't heard in a while. Not since the beginning of his assignment with the DSS and that was just so that others would know Rook would get special consideration because of their, at that time, friendship. "You'll then go into the logs and erase any traces that you changed this information. You're also to note if anyone has yet accessed that record. As of this moment, that file is confidential and access granted by authorization only. Including yourself once you've made the changes. Do I need to make that an order?" There was a half lift to the corner of his mouth even as he tried his best to keep the stern face.

"No, Commander, understood." Rook replied, though he was far from it. What Jim was ordering him to do was understood, though, and that's all that mattered.

"Listen, Rook, stop asking about this group. Stop looking into them. Don't draw any attention to you or the incident. Those are orders. And if that's not enough, I will tell Dad on you if you don't listen to me. See how you like being grounded on your next time at home."

"Jim-"

"Rook, I can't say more than that right now. Just do what I'm telling you, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Rook said with a sigh. He finished his root beer and thought he'd get another. If not a mug of kaf.

"Rook," Jim said, "be safe and watch your six, okay? Keep your head down on this one and don't talk about any of it to anybody. No matter how much you think you can trust them."

"Wilco," Rook said. "Do I need to worry?"

Jim sat back in the chair and stared at him over the viewscreen. "I hope not, because if you do, so do I."

Rook nodded. "Okay, Jim." He wanted to say more but didn't know what. "You're going to be safe yourself, right?"

"Of course I am, the universe loves me!" Jim said, a forced version of his typical smile on his face. "Love ya, Bradley," he said before hitting the control to end the conversation.

Rook let out a breath while he shivered. He expected to see his breath steaming in front of him. That's how cold the phone call left him. Jim stated early on that he didn't like his first name, that it looked like it should be pronounced "sam-U-all" but was pronounced more like the typical Terran "sam - U - ell". Because of that, until he'd settled on various nicknames - he was sure he was the original 'monkeybutt' which Dahlia now enjoyed - he'd used Bradley, his middle name.

That he called him by his actual name told Rook all he didn't want to know about what Jim wasn't telling him. He leaned forward and accessed the keyboard to the terminal. It only took a few minutes to change the report, then a few more after that to lock it down with Jim's authorization code and ensure that it hadn't yet been accessed. Finishing with his orders, he rubbed his face and sent orders to the brig to increase security around the prisoner. He wasn't sure if he had the authority to do this but, if he'd learned one thing from Jim it was this: just assume that others think he did and usually they won't even question it.

 

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