Hostages Part 1

Posted on Wed Jan 2nd, 2019 @ 3:41am by
Edited on on Wed Jan 2nd, 2019 @ 9:25am

Mission: Season 2: Episode 3: Determination is not always a good thing
Location: Planetside
Timeline: 10 minutes after Could Use Some Help
1307 words - 2.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Liorga drove the Argo Jeep like the proverbial bat out of Hell, Dorso strapped into the seat beside her, only able to grown and, at odd intervals, vomit. "Just hold on, kid.' Liorga instructed, she had never been all that great at comforting people; probably why she went into engineering instead of medicine or counseling. She knew she had to get Dorso to Estelle's field hospital and fast, he was very sick, possibly contagious.... "Great." She muttered, knowing exactly how dire her situation had just become if he was, in fact, viral. It got worse when she realized he must be, at least if this was the same illness that had apparently decimated Brett's staff in Ops.

Quinton Dunphy had been waiting for this sort of thing for years. Quinton was big, strong, and, to be generous, not very bright. And, as the big, strong, and not very bright often do, he'd chosen a life of crime, and this disaster had presented a perfect opportunity for him and his gang to profit from the suffering of others. He signaled ahead to his distractors on the road, then to his runners on either side, as he saw the Federation vehicle move into view, then close enough for him to hear the engine. Federation vehicles, even one of those ridiculous looking Argo Jeeps, meant Federation personnel, meant Federation equipment, meant a nice profit on the black market, "I bet Traun will pay nicely for that jeep." Dunphy laughed, referencing Traun, a Ferengi fence with a penchant for collecting things Dunphy considered worthless at an inflated price.

"I bet he will, love." Dunphy's 'old lady', Syren, smirked from alongside. She was tall, too thin, with a short mohawk hairstyle, pretty in a trashy way, and every bit as vicious as her man. She looked through the binoculars and smirked, "Hey, Quin, you still know that Ferengi dirtbag with the thing for Deltans?"

"You mean Old Barny?" Dunphy laughed, "Yeah, I can get in touch with 'im, why?"

"Because there's a Deltan woman drivin' that go cart." Syren answered, "A real beauty she is."

"Lemme see that then." Dunphy grunted, taking the binoculars from Syren to inspect the situation for himself, "I'll be damned, Sy. You're right. That one's a ten thousand bar job, minimum." He signaled his runners again, two fingers out, then turned down, meaning no weapons, those idiots weren't about to cost him that much latinum.

Liorga focused solely on the road now as Dorso had passed out, she could hear him breathing, though, so it wasn't the worst case scenario, "Okay, should be a couple kliks from here on the left..." She said to herself, lifting her head up just in time to see a refugee crossing the road, a baby in her arms. Jamming on the breaks and pulling hard in the opposite direction, Liorga narrowly avoided hitting the woman and her child, "Oh my God, are you okay?" She asked, still in her seat, "Ma'am, I asked if you and your baby were okay..."

"Oh, they're fine alright." A man she'd not previously seen replied from her starboard side. She spun to see him, but could only focus on the giant knife he had in her face, a turn to her right revealed the 'baby' to be an old style phaser rifle and the 'lady' to be a haggard looking man with crooked teeth that seemed to shake as he laughed at her. "Hey, Jonesy, boss says no guns. Think he wants this one alive."

"Look, I don't know what you're looking for here, but we don't have it." Liorga began, "All I've got here is a very sick, possibly contagious, man who needs medical treatment."

"No, what you've got is a woman who needs to shut up." the man with the knife retorted, emphasizing his point with a slap to the back of her head, "Got it?"

"Uh, hey, Bug, this guy does look bad." Jonesy interjected, "Like not fit for an open casket bad."

"Whatever." The knife wielding man, now identified as Bug, shrugged, "Wanker probably just gets car sick."

"Sir, Bug, as I've told you, Crewman Dorso is very sick and in need of immediate medical attention." Liorga continued trying to reason with him, though she didn't think it was going to do a lot of good, "I'm trying to take him to the field hospital..."

"And I thought I told you to shut up." Bug replied, moving to strike her across the face until his arm was grabbed by an even larger man, "Hey, what the hell... Oh, shit, sorry, Boss."

"Won't be any of that." Dunphy ordered, "That's precious cargo right there."

"Oh, so precious." Syren added, stroking the Deltan woman's head seductively, "Me and you, we're gonna have some fun before you ship out, love."

"Look, I don't know why you're not understanding this, but let me explain again, Crewman Dorso is very sick, possibly contagious, he needs to go to the hospital." Liorga continued, focusing on the tall blonde man with the missing left eye, he was apparently in charge, "In fact, we might all need medical treatment, we could all have been exposed. If you'll get in the Jeep I can take us all to the field hospital, we can get examined and I'll make arrangements for any of your other needs to be met." Liorga was hoping against all hope that her early Starfleet training, training that taught that most people who turned to crime did so out of desperate needs, was correct this time, though she was relatively sure this bunch just enjoyed their work, "Please, let me get us all somewhere where we can be helped..."

"You hear that, Boss?" Bug laughed hard, "She's offerin' us a free ride to the hospital!"

"Ain't she an angel?" Jonesy interjected, laughing though he became more and more nervous the longer he looked at the kid in the passenger seat.

"Look..." Liorga started to speak again, an exercise the one eyed man shut down quickly by grabbing her throat.

"Not. Another. Word." Dunphy hissed, "Got me, Princess?"

Liorga nodded in compliance, there really wasn't anything else she could do at that moment.

"Now, get in the back with your friend there." Dunphy ordered, motioning to Syren, "You keep both your eyes on her, right?"

"You know I'm going to, baby." Syren smiled evilly at the Deltan, pushing her to the back, "Oh, would ya look at that? The view's even pretty from back here!"

Liorga could feel her face flushing as her anger grew, resolving that, should she ever get out of this situation, she was going to filet this group of miscreants.

"Um, Boss, not to complain, but do we hafta take that one?" Jonesy asked, pointing to the one the bald woman called Dorso, "Looks like death warmed over."

"Then they'll pay good latinum to get him back, won't they?" Dunphy laughed, "Remember, Jonesy, Starfleet leaves no man behind! Now, you and Bug get him in the back with Princess Cueball, the rest of you lot meet us back at the place, I'll send a messenger about this one later."

In the backseat Liorga contemplated her options as the gang drove her to who knew where. She had to escape, that was a part of her duties as a member of Starfleet, but she needed to figure out how to do it with six feet six inches and three hundred solid pounds of very sick and only getting sicker Dorso or they were both going to die. She felt the other woman nibbling on her neck, but did nothing, she couldn't chance it.

"Hey, you're learning already." Syren whispered in her ear, "You just cooperate, love, and Syren's gonna take good care of you, okay?"

"Okay." Liorga replied, she had no choice after all...