Posted by Lieutenant Allison Scott (Pediatrics/Assistant Chief Medical Officer) in Orion Surface A Need to get Away

Snip

“All I know is I was told to meet the driver here and take you and her into the warehouse. Your perky little innocent cheerleader is not as naive as she acts. This is not her first rodeo and if you think it is you should take a harder look at her,” the man grunted as he felt Rico’s hand increase the pressure with each word. His hand tightened into a fist ready to strike Rico but the credits were too good. Besides, the Syndicate would not let them leave alive anyway. If the Syndicate killed them he and his team would still get the credits.

“What are you talking about?” Rico asked the man. He had little intention of letting go of him until either the hand made the cracking sound that Rico, at that moment, felt like hearing, or he got some answers. “What the heck is going on here?”

“So are you gonna hold my hand all night or let us and her do what we were paid for,” the man growled, “which as to escort you into the building. Ask your girl. She knew this was the plan all along,” he shot Ally a dirty look.

“I can do far more than hold your hand,” Rico told him, but his tone was far, far from seductive. He made sure he increased the pressure further, so that the man had more to think about that trying to escape and he heard a grunt from him as he looked sideways to Ally. “Baby what is he talking about? Start talking.” He had no fear of the other men shooting, not now that it had been revealed they were being paid to get them inside the warehouse. If they didn’t make it inside, they wouldn’t get paid and men like this were motivated by a paycheck. Unless things went very, very wrong, they wouldn’t shoot.

Looking at Rico, Ally chewed her lip not sure what to say. His eyes were on her like they were on the man only a second earlier. Ally felt her heart pound slightly. This would be the first test of their relationship. She had never lied to him, not yet. Ally debated the pros and cons of her next words to him yet her mind went blank. Instead of the truth, all she could think of is why she even involved the chief of security in the first place.

“Allison!” Rico yelled. He didn’t hold back either, the sound he used was his best Academy grade drill voice, or the voice he used to stop a bar fight with a single word. It was enough that the men around them shifted uncomfortably, and all of them trained their weapons on him alone.

Rico yelling out her name snapped Ally out of her stupor. Licking her lips she stepped forward. “This is not the first time I have done this,” she admitted realizing a lie of omission was the same as a lie to Rico’s face. Rico was a good man, an honest man. He trusted you until you did not give him a reason to trust you. Backdoor whispers and changing small facts to fit the story you wanted to sell would only force Rico away from you. He asked nothing of the people he trusted except that you gave him the respect he offered you. Any twisting of the truth to hide Ally’s true intention would create a wedge that nothing in the galaxy could free.

“Done what, exactly?” He asked her. “These people aren’t the kind you go out to lunch with on a Sunday, Allison. These people are the kind to fit you for concrete gumboots and send you on a long vacation. These are the kind of people whose mothers do not cry for them when they don’t come home.”

“Rico I need you to trust me,” Ally reached out hesitantly to touch his arm. “Just until we get in there,” she pointed to the building. “Once we get in there I will explain everything and tell you everything but I need you to just give me five more minutes,” she had almost a begging tone to her voice. “Please,” she said finally able to look him in the eye as she spoke.

There was a pause as Rico looked at her, the anger on his face clear. She wasn’t telling him everything and that worried him. More than that, it hurt him. It meant she didn’t, or couldn’t trust him despite what she said. How could he trust her when what she said and what she did were two different things? He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring and his jaw twitched, the anger in check, and he let go of the man’s hand, almost threw it back at him. “Lets go inside then and see what this is about.” The only reason he had agreed was the fact she had looked him in the eye. That meant she had a reason, determination to do this that might explain her behaviour, but not excuse it.

“Holy hell you are stronger than you look,” the man said rubbing the spot where Rico had gripped him. “If you ever decide to dump the Fed I could find a spot on my team for you,” the man offered rhetorically. These Fed types rarely turned Merc but there was always the chance.

“Really? Then you really need that paycheck so that you can get your eyes checked, cause I look pretty damn strong.” Rico was deadpan, and in no mood for small talk. To Ally that would serve as a big warning sign, he had reached the point where he went quiet, he had had enough. He wouldn’t yell, or rage. His was a cold, intense fury that meant he was was past the point of negotiation or discussion. It was now his way, or nothing. It was the only thing that had brought him through some of the worst moments of his life, a state where he worked by instinct, not logic, to simply survive. Now he bent over and picked up the weapon he had dropped earlier, ignoring the further nervous glances of the men at their boss, he looked at Ally and nodded his head towards the warehouse.

As they walked towards the building Ally took the few precious moments to prepare Rico for what was coming next. The problem was finding the words to explain what he was gonna see. “About two years ago a doctor by the name of Lauren Shan asked me to help her with some relief work. I had no idea of the scope she was talking about until we arrived at that location. Once I saw…I could not say no.” Ally stood at the door to the warehouse. Rico could see she was almost shaking as she spoke. The nervousness was not due to anything related to what was behind the door. The nervousness was entirely based on Ally being worried Rico would not understand or be able to process what was behind the door.

“If it is simple relief work, why the thugs and secrecy?” Rico asked her as they came to a stop outside the warehouse. “Why the hell would you have been exiled from Orion the last time you were here? That happened because you were stealing supplies, relief work doesn’t lead to stealing supplies or the Syndicate.”

“Shall we enter so that I can get paid and you can do the job you are required to do,” the leader of the men who met them at the vehicle sneered.

“Open the damn door then,” Rico snarled at him, “and next time don’t greet us with a firing squad, you might live longer.” He motioned towards the man and the door with his weapon and in that moment, it had become much clearer who had control of this situation. The man swore under his breath and moved forwards, entering a code in the door and letting the bolts unlock, then, he swung it open and the look he gave Ally was leering and far from gentlemanly. “Have fun inside, I know you like it rough.” It was a ruthless attempt to regain his authority in the eyes of his men.

Ally shook her head and walked in the opened door but not before saying under her breath, “heartless mongrel.” Men like the ones that got them here disgusted Ally. They were able to sleep at night even though their apathy towards the problem was just as bad as participating in it.

Lt. Ally Scott medical

Rico had far less words for him, he waited for Ally to walk inside and then took a step towards the entry himself. It meant that he had stepped close to the man and as his eyes met those of the heartless leader of these henchmen, he registered the soft smirk still on the man’s lips after what he had said. What happened next was fast. Rico’s hand lifted and the smirk had only just begun to fade as the solid butt of the weapon smashed into the leaders jaw, a sharp crack announcing the fracture and the blood spattering the door showing the gash, the man thrown bodily against the warehouse wall from the impact.

As the leader of the group dazedly sunk to his knees holding his twisted, broken and bleeding jaw, Rico coldly looked at the rest of the men. They saw the look in his eyes, but not a single one moved to help or raise their weapons at him. “Oops,” he said to the man on his knees, “I thought you liked it rough. My mistake.” With that he turned and followed Allison inside. He was off duty anyhow, nobody was going to report him.

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Inside the warehouse
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The first thing Rico would notice was the stench as he entered the room. Unwashed bodies mixed with the scent of all things illicit. The air had a stale quality to it mixed with the smoke of at least two different illegal drugs known by even teenagers in the Federation. Felicium and tobacco were only what the untrained nose could smell. Someone like Rico might be able to find more. The sickening smell of rot came and went carried on a breeze from somewhere. It was infrequent enough that the source of the odor could have been from a rubbish bin inside or outside the warehouse. The bitter scent of the oldest profession seemed to linger on any piece of fabric they passed as Ally and Rico moved farther inside the cavernous space.

This wasn’t what Rico had expected. The smell of drugs, absolutely. The weapons seen on men who seemed to be a militia of sorts, sure. The hobbled living spaces they passed, the men and women who looked at them with sunken eyes devoid of hope and resigned to a life with nothing to offer, was something Rico had not expected.

The lights were dimmed so you could make out shapes and images but not clearly until you were almost upon them. The room was set up almost like a refugee camp with areas cordoned off using sheets, old blankets, or pieces of furniture. The living spaces if you could call them that had an eclectic mix of tattered and worn next to chic and new. It was as if the contents of the rooms were both a storage area for a furniture store and a dump where people had pulled discarded items from a landfill. Nothing matched in any of the living spaces he and Ally passed. The only thing that was repeated in each space was the haunted faces looking at the pair as they passed. The walk between the rows and rows of cubicles seemed never-ending. The haunted eyes of the children they passed showed what they lacked without ever having to be asked.

“Allison, what is this?” Rico asked her softly. His anger had faded, the cold and furious temper at her deceit forgotten as his eyes moved from despair to tragedy, to horror and back to despair. His anger had not gone, it simmered now under a layer of disbelief that people could live in this condition in a developed world. He paused as they walked, Ally not answering him as her own eyes picked out where she needed to be, looking for something that she knew she had to find.

Rico stopped and looked at three children gathered together, all of them far more thin, dirty and frail than they should ever have been, welts and bruises speaking of discipline delivered out of anger instead of love. Sores on their lips and arms telling him of a lack of care, lack of attention that children in his world would never have been subjected to. Rico realized very quickly now that this was not his world, this was nothing that he had ever trained or prepared for. The look of emptiness in their eyes would haunt him he knew, it was a look that was far older than children should ever have had, it was despair, empty hopes and dreams. It was a sick maturity of children who had lost their innocence to people who knew how bad the world could be and had lost the ability to care about other beings over their own desires.

The sounds of the warehouse were a cacophony of raucous laughter, intimate moans, crying children, and coughs of the sick. A few giggles of children could be heard but they were few and far between. Nothing in this space indicated happiness or love. The ghettos and slums of Orion held more typical sounds of a home or apartment than this warehouse ever could. The sounds of this warehouse were of sadness, pain, and sorrow.

“Dr. Scott,” a woman called out seemingly out of nowhere. Ally spun trying to locate the direction through the fabric walls that surrounded her. “Dr. Scott,” she repeated pulling back a thin and tattered curtain. “I am glad you finally arrived.” The voice belonged to a woman in her late 50’s or 60’s. It could have been younger but that was not important. The worn visage spoke of a hard life filled with more downs than ups. “I am Brella. Thank you for coming,” she extended her hand.

“Of course. When we can help we come. You know that. Is everything set up,” Ally asked taking the woman’s hand and shaking it. The warm handshake instantly went stiff as did the demeanor of Brella.

Rico had heard Ally’s voice, and torn himself away from the sight of the children huddled together for warmth, the sound of a woman moaning in the torn sheet and cardboard hut behind them and the rough hacking coughs of people waiting around them. It had taken him only a moment to catch up to her, his bright yellow floral vacation shirt an obvious difference to what was going on in the warehouse around them. The look on his face was still rage, but it was rage mixed with sadness at what he was seeing.

“Why is he here? You know the rules,” she spat back angrily. “They will not permit this. Why did you even come? Get out. Take your Federation police with you. He is not welcome here.” The lukewarmness to the woman’s eyes had melted into an icy stare as she looked at Rico.

Lt. Ally Scott medical

“Shut up woman,” Rico said and his tone was not angry, but it was determined. “Nobody is welcome here, that’s clear.” He looked behind her at the area she had come from and then to Ally. “We are here now, and here for a reason. This isn’t right Allison, what the hell is this place? How do the people that run this get away with it? Why are you here?” He had directed his last question to both of the woman, both Ally and Brella.

This world was not Rico’s world. He was a member of Starfleet, he had been to places where the people on the bottom of society existed. They didn’t live there, living was too generous a term. This place was something that made those places Rico had been to seem like a welcoming home. This was not Rico’s world, it was not something he expected could exist within the Federation or any developed world. Klingons treated the people on the bottom of their society with more respect than this, and to Klingons those people were worthless. These people were less. The sorrow and despair in their eyes spoke of absent dreams and hopes. These people did not expect to ever improve their lot in their existence, they didn’t exist.

Rico’s anger simmered at the people that allowed this place to exist. To the men outside who knew what it was and locked it away. Rico had seen despair, horror and loss. he had never felt or thought it was possible for more than that to exist in his world. He had served on missions to rescue people from slavery, subjugation. He had fought violently, lost men and women in his team, friends, rescuing men, women and children from slavery four years earlier. Rico had very nearly lost his life in hand to hand combat with men such as those outside, to make sure the people he was sent to rescue could escape to live a better life. He was willing to give that life for them, it was his duty. The people Rico was seeing in this warehouse were suffering on a level Rico never knew existed, it was more than physical suffering, it was a loss of the very soul they had.

Rico could fight the wrongs of the world with his strength, his rules and his duty. Rico had no weapons for fighting this fight, he was unarmed and untrained. Helpless to fix this. His hand moved to Allison’s waist as he knew that she had a strength that he never possessed. She had fought and was fighting a war that he didn’t know how to fight, never knew existed. She knew what was here and had come anyway. In that moment Rico understood her, and realized that the woman he loved was far stronger than he had ever known it was possible to be.

“What do you want me to do?” He said to them.

Lt Vanhall, CoS