Star Trek: Starbase 777 - security-office

“Welcome to our security office! It’s a cool spot for me and you.” Maggie said with a breath, having ran here. “Now, whatcha need!”

"If you need a drink or something, let me know and I'll grab one for you." Kirio gestured for them both to have a seat, taking one themself.

The slate-shouldered ACOS took a seat beside Kirio, threading his fingers between each other and resting his clasped fists on the table they now sat at, “What all can you tell us, S’anra?” (edited)

"I'm okay, thank you," S'anra told Kirio, before turning to Patroclus. "The, the tea. We knew- T'Sanga has been a popular artist in Romulan space for a while, and in the Free State, it was understood that if you're in the public eye, you keep your mouth shut," she started explaining. "So no matter how many political messages were hidden in her performances and music, T'Sanga kept her mouth shut. It was the way to survive. And then the Republic appeared, and T'Sanga took the first chance she got to move there. It took a while, but she got there. However-" S'anra's eyes darted nervously between the three in the office then, as if assessing the risk of speaking. "There have been attempts on T'Sanga's life before. Poorly hidden, more threats than anything else. We- she suspects it's Tal Shiar related. She knew a lot of people in high places, saw a lot of questionable things. It would make sense. So now..." she trailed off, her expression unreadable behind her mask. But the sentiment was pretty clear. "Now we know for sure someone is out to get her."

Maxson furrowed his eyebrows. While he didn’t have firsthand experience with the Tal Shiar, it didn’t take a genius to get somewhat sick at their stomach upon hearing the name. The historical records and the current situation on their hands were more than enough to form a small pit in his stomach, “I see…” He muttered, taking in a deep breath. His shoulders rose and fell as he considered what to say next. “The…individual that is currently in our sickbay, we’ve received some inconsistencies in medical readings compared to what is expected of T’Sanga herself based on medical records,” He hummed, “Was this…doppelgänger put in place to prove the merit behind these threats?” (edited)

S'anra looked at Maxson, with the same evaluating look she'd had in her eyes earlier in the events hall. This time, though, a glimmer of something else shone from her dark eyes. Amusement, maybe, or hope, or satisfaction? Something positive, anyway. "Not precisely," she answered, and though she offered no further information, it was an admission in and of itself that Maxson was on the right track.

“Hrm…” He raised his eyebrow at the shift in her expression. It wasn’t something of judgement, or distrust, but of intrigue, “…this…disguised T’Sanga, they’re alive, though…barely. How long have they been in this position? And,” He unclasped his hands and placed one against the tabletop, “…where is the real T’Sanga?”

S'anra nodded at the news that T'Sanga was alive. "Months," she clarified. "As for the real T'Sanga..." She moved to take off her mask.

"S'anra ir-Rarathik t'Ipae, known professionally as T'Sanga, at your service, Commander," she said, her face a perfect match for T'Sanga indeed, the perfect twin to the T'Sanga in the sickbay. "I trust you to keep a secret," she said, smiling a little lopsidedly.

3

Maxson’s eyebrows shot upward, surprise written all across his face, before the usually serious and professional commander chuckled, “I’m fantastic at keeping secrets,” He replied, before leaning back in his seat, “…who’s in our sickbay, then?”

T'Sanga (the real one this time) shook her head. "Hroval is an Intelligence officer with the Flotilla. He volunteered to go undercover as me, in hopes we could catch whoever was trying to kill me in the act. The tea was our cover story for why he sounded a bit different from me, he was supposed to just have a sore throat. I didn't expect it to become the thing that put him in danger. That was my mistake."

“Scrutinizing everything you eat and drink can sometimes cause you to overlook things on occasion,” He offered, trying to ease some of the potential guilt T’Sanga may feel concerning the situation, “The question still remains, however, as to how this occurred in the first place…is there anyone who’s a part of your staff that we should take a closer look at? Do you think there’s an infiltrator?”

T'Sanga shook her head even harder now, eager to clear her staff of any suspicion. "Most of them have been with me for years, and we spend all of our time together when we're travelling. The tea could have been anyone; someone could have entered the shuttle while we were busy elsewhere, the vendor could have been bought, I don't know." She sighed. "I don't think we'll ever know. I'll tell my contacts back home to research it, though. Maybe we'll find something."

Maggie’s stan brain was going into overload. First: T’Sanga wasn’t dead. Second: the real T’Sanga was standing right in front of her and Third: She was overloading. She swiftly hid behind Maxson’s shoulders (silently wishing he had wider shoulders) and hid from the mega star.

“If Starfleet Intelligence can aid in that research, I’m certain I could send a request up the line,” Maxson had no Intelligence experience. Like…none, whatsoever, but he was a fine detective and he could, at least, serve as some kind of middle man between Security and Intelligence, “For now, I believe that Hroval is in our ICU. I can get an update from our Medical team as well.” He gave a glance over his shoulders at the science lieutenant currently hiding behind him, “…Lieutenant. Take a breath.”

“Eep!” She said with a gasp. “But it’s the real T’Sanga!” She whined.

T'Sanga laughed at Maggie's distress, not cruelly but definitely not sparing her feelings, either. "I would appreciate Starfleet Intelligence taking the time to put its resources to something else, if possible," T'Sanga said, quickly retrieving something from the fabled bra pocket dimension. It was clearly a data rod, which she dangled between two fingers. "Twenty-something years of... observations, to be more clear."

2

The lieutenant commander leaned forward to take the data rod, giving T’Sanga a nod, “I’ll send a request Intel’s way, and pass this information up the ladder. Is there anything we can do to make further travels safer? We can make 777 as safe as possible while you’re here.” (edited)

"No, thank you. We'll probably stay here as long as Hroval is in your sickbay, and then go back to Mol'Rihan or something. Or maybe we'll do a tour of the Federation, who knows." She looks at Maggie behind his back, then smiles at Maxson again. "I didn't realise we had so many fans here, to be honest. And I should probably go apologise to everyone for making them worry." She paused for a second, before clearly thinking of something else that needed to be addressed. "Oh, speaking of: could you make sure Hroval's identity is protected? I want him to have a say in whatever we do next, and I want to keep all of our options open."

“I…imagine an apology would help ease some worries and tension across the station, yes,” He nodded, “And of course. As I had said, I’m good at keeping secrets. Starfleet tends to be fairly good at it as well. As far as the Tal Shiar will be concerned, this was a failed assassination attempt against you.”

She peaked out from behind Maxson’s ribs. “Hi, I think you’re very cool.” She said before disappearing behind Maxson again with a wosh sound effect.

She nodded at Maxson, waving at Maggie when she peeked out. "I'll try to make contact with everyone who was at the meet and greet, then. I appreciate you working with us on this." She looked at Kirio, then Maggie and Maxson, bowing slightly at all of them. "Thank you all for your efforts. I will work hard to make them worthwhile."

Maxson bowed his head toward T’Sanga before rising from the table, “We’re happy to help. If there’s anything else we can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”