Revelations

Posted on Fri 10th May, 2013 @ 12:21pm by Colonel Horatio Drake & Commander Paul Graves PsyD

2,047 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: http://sb109.sim-station.net/index.php/sim/missions/id/3
Location: Deck 27: Drake's Quarters
Timeline: MD-05: 1800 Hours

ON:

After leaving the gym, Paul headed to his quarters and finally did take a hot water shower, this time. Nothing really helped sweaty hair like shampoo, and after spending time in Dobbs' company, Paul wanted the feel of cleansing. Whether Dobbs was or was not the person responsible for the 49-Alpha lab, he felt wrong. Paul hesitated to apply the term 'sociopath' to any specific person without considerable acquaintance or at least some kind of objective measure. Going with his gut, however--he'd swear Dobbs fit the description. There was no warmth, no caring, no fellow-feeling in the man. Even Oaksley had not been so lacking in those three qualities. Oaksley's emotions had been closed off, not absent altogether.

But fitting the description was not evidence of crime. And Paul, as chief counselor, was not qualified to deal in hard evidence, only in likelihoods.

He slammed his fist against the shower wall, thinking of that.

Finally, he turned the water off, toweled himself dry, and pulled on a fresh uniform. He went to his desk, planning to read the biographies of the people who'd worked with Dobbs on past research but instead found himself hovering his hand over the computer keyboard. At last, he grumbled under his breath.

"Computer, locate Col. Ashton Drake."

=/\= Col. Ashton Drake is in his quarters, =/\= the computer replied.

Paul grimaced, not wanting to disturb the man after a long, stressful day, but he tapped his combadge.

"Col. Drake, this is Lt. Graves. May I come see you?"

'Shit' was the first thing that ran through Drake's mind. His quarters were a complete mess and he was sitting on the floor with a half a bottle of scotch left and another empty glass.

"Computer music off" He scrambled over to his uniform that lay in a heap on the floor and found his comm. badge.

"Certainly, Lieutenant" He replied.

He had his green under tunic on and trousers, that would do. Rushing round he collected all the clothes that lay strewn on the floor and threw them under his desk. He put the bottle on top of the desk, along with the glass... pouring himself another so as not to give the impression he had been drinking out of the bottle.

'Why was Paul coming to see him?' he thought to himself... his mind started wondering to fantastical things before he mentally slapped himself, knowing it was the alcohol doing the thinking. He was most probably coming here to discuss business.

No sooner had his thought process finished, the chime sounded.

Taking one last look around his quarters his responded, "Please, come in".

Paul walked in looking deeply in turmoil. "Hi," he said. "Thanks for letting me come by during your off-hours, Ashton."

Drake couldn't think of anything worse after half a bottle of scotch... but he tried his best to act gratuitously both internally and externally, knowing Paul would pick up on it.

"Oh, it's not a problem... I'm just having a little tipple" He replied, cheerfully... smiling at the Counsellor, glancing briefly at his chest wondering what was underneath his uniform, before returning to the bottle. "Would you like some?" He asked, grabbing a spare glass from a shelf behind his desk.

Paul paused a moment to consider his words and let out a breath. He combed a hand through his black hair and, unusually for him, didn't notice that he'd left it tousled. "I've spent the last half-hour or so being lied to--mostly in intent, but also in words. It has left me very unsettled. And--yes, I think I would like a taste of whatever you're offering."

"Right" Drake poured Paul a large glass... completely unsure what to say. He had never had this sort of directness from a Counsellor before. He allowed himself a glimmer of a grin at Paul calling him by his first name... 'familiarity breeds contempt', he remembered being taught at Marine Command Academy.... he could thing of something else it bred as well.

Quickly dismissing it from his mind he handed the glass to the agitated officer. "Sit down" He gestured towards the sofa. "What's wrong?".

Paul's eyes widened slightly at the size of the glass Drake gave him, but he sipped from it appreciatively and took a seat before setting the glass down. "I encountered Captain Dobbs in the gym this evening," he said. "I've had no contact with him since the day he boarded. Given what you and I talked about earlier today, I decided to see if there was anyone in this sector who could have done the things we found on Deck 1030. It seemed too odd a coincidence that, just as we discovered that hidden lab, Dobbs came aboard Protector. He seemed too easy a suspect, and I wanted to eliminate other possibilities before I took a serious look at him."

Paul sipped at the scotch again. "But when I spoke to him in the gym...He explicitly lied to me about being mostly on Earth, lately. There's no reason for him to lie about that; even if I weren't Betazoid, I could easily look it up. And for the rest of our conversation, his emotions were at variance with the things he said. He was far more suspicious and hostile toward me than he had any logical reason to be--unless he was hiding something."

Ashton got up from behind the desk and joined the Chief Counsellor on the sofa, "Well I suppose he could have been doing classified work and..." He stopped himself in his tracks. "I mean even if he had something to do with forty nine alpha... or was even orchestrating it... we have got no way of proving it".

"No, we haven't," Paul said. He took another sip of the scotch and again set the glass down on the table. "But now that I've seen the sort of man he is, it might be possible to get him to betray himself, to lay a trap for him."

"You think his arrogance and level of pride would be his demise?" Ashton was interested to see where this was going.

"Yes," Paul said. "But it isn't likely to be easy. For whatever reason, his suspicions are aroused. Any test or trap we devise will have to be absolutely reasonable and grounded in fact and regulations. I don't think he'll believe even a well-crafted story. However we test him will have to be absolutely real." He thought a moment. "Do you like Sherlock Holmes stories?"

Drake just finished the contents of his latest glass and leaned around to the desk to grab the bottle. "Yes, I do actually" He smiled at Graves... Sherlock Holmes was a very old text... one was hard pushed to find an admirer these days.

"I'm thinking of the one called 'A Scandal in Bohemia,' in which Holmes uses a ruse to trick the object of his investigation, a woman named Irene Adler, into revealing the location of a portrait that was very valuable to her. He threw a smoke bomb into the open window of her home, and when she thought the portrait was threatened, she went straight to the portrait to secure it. Now the question is--if Dobbs is our man, does he still value anything of that lab? So far, all I've seen is a willingness to sacrifice it to destroy evidence. But I have to think there must be something in it he wants, else why return to it after all this time? Or, if he's our man, is he simply feeling nostalgic and returning to the scene of the crime because it holds pleasant memories for him? I wonder what we would find if we tracked his movements since he arrived on Protector?"

"I never really thought of it that way" Drake said, leaning back into the sofa after pouring himself another half glass and leaving the bottle on the floor. "It never occurred to me that something may be in the lab of value to him."

He sipped his scotch thoughtfully, "But what would be our smoke bomb?"

Paul thought about that. "I haven't noticed him hanging around Sickbay, so if he's our person, the bodies don't seem to interest him. But perhaps there is data he would want?"

"Possibly... but all the data that's in the terminals has been retrieved by Ops and Intelligence... it's just random data fragments that don't make any sense" He put his arm up on the back of the sofa so that his hand was just at Paul's head... an innocent enough gesture.

"But you asked about the smoke bomb..." Paul continued, meditatively. "We can't really determine that until we know what it is he values. If we threaten something he doesn't value, he won't react to it."

"Very true" he paused "I don't know what else there is that damned section... unless one of the bodies have some value?"

"That's possible," Paul said. "Although he's left those bodies for so long, I'd think he'd have come back before now to retrieve anything useful from them. But they still contain plenty of DNA, if that's all he needs, if he's continuing that line of research. He seems more fascinated by genetic manipulation than by anything else--even the work he's best known for."

It felt so...comfortable to be sitting in here on the sofa, talking with Drake--too comfortable, Paul thought, suddenly intensely aware of the man's arm lying behind his head on the top of the sofa. He eyed his still mostly-full glass of scotch on the table but didn't pick it up for another sip; what he'd drunk already was quite enough.

"It seems odd that he is now so interested in genetics, given that he has essentially devoted his life to something else?" He shook his head rather violently. "Oh I don't know... I'm too tired to think" He looked at Graves, into his deep gray eye... he held the gaze a little too long. "Something just doesn't add up here... and I can't see what it is".

"Neither can I. Empathic impressions are not admissible in a Federation court. Even in a Betazoid court, they have to be backed up with physical evidence or by direct empathic observation by the judge. I know of nothing to directly tie Dobbs to that laboratory, and I worry about the risk of concentrating too much on Dobbs and not being open enough to other possible suspects...except that I know of no other possible suspects," Paul said.

"Mmm... I know" He finished the remnants of his glass and sat back, another would follow shortly. "Oh, did I tell you he paid me a visit in my Ready Room yesterday?" The manner in which he said it was almost excitable, like he had gossip... as much as a Marine could sound like that... but it was a tone reserved for a certain kind of people. Was Graves one of them?

"He did?" Paul looked back at Drake. "What did he want?"

He slowly took the bottle and poured himself out another liberal double on the amber liquid... as ever it was going down extremely well. "It was the strangest thing... he was trying to tell me to stop investigating forty nine alpha. Then, when I refused, he insisted that I keep him updated on all new discoveries... again, I said I needed the Sector Admiral's approval for. To be honest I think he was trying to throw his weight around... I don't think he liked the fact that I'm the same rank as him... something he couldn't fall back on".

He put the bottle back on the floor and picked up his glass, "He told me to 'let sleeping dogs lie'... there was something about how he said it... it was stupid, I mean does he truly expect us to just stop the entire investigation?!".

Raising the glass to his lips he allowed a generous amount of the liquid into his mouth... suddenly it clicked... he almost choked when he swallowed.

"Fucking Hell... " his body was suddenly covered in goosebumps... could it be? Had Dobbs actually given Drake a clue?"

He swiped his comm. badge with ferocity, "Lieutenant's Locke, Lee and O'Dell... report to the Observation Lounge on the double".

OFF:

 

RSS Feed