[center][h2]No Refugees, Just Rats[/h2][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/U2BLHNj.png[/img]
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Edina, still disheveled from being face down in the dirt outside, was propped on her knees, the cuffs biting into her wrists.  Alongside her was Tommy, the pilot, his composure intact as he watched the goings-on in the cargo bay.  Elias, the tall, shrouded man with perpetually angry eyes, was knelt to her left.  Just ahead were Hook and Abby, both silent as the grave, though Edina could spot the symptoms of the girl’s mounting anger with each baton blow landed upon their first mate.

Yuri had retaken his feet, standing before the detective…Hekubah.  She couldn’t hear the man’s words, but the cheshire cat grin and smug lift of an eyebrow told the woman that he clearly believed he was holding all the cards.  He was scrolling through the boat’s log in a lackadaisical style, not pausing long enough to ingest information, but more in the sense of conveying his overall importance to this operation.

She could hear bits of radio chatter, mainly from the com of the soldier tasked with guarding the crew.  [i]They haven’t found anyone,[/i] Edina suspected, the notion growing with each passing minute that the purple troops marauded through the upper deck.  After a while, she noticed the smugness had left the detective’s face, replaced by a darkening shade of impatience.  

When the commanding officer returned from his errand, Hekubah lost what little composure remained.  “Impossible!” he raged.  “Your men are incompetent!  Did they follow my plans?”

“To the letter.”  Edina could see the man’s eyes.  This Alliance officer was clearly disgusted with the detective who called the shots, his contempt for the man barely concealed beneath the veneer of a professional soldier.  “My senior sergeant personally double checked each hiding space.  The upper deck is clear.”

“Alright then…start down here!” Hekubah blustered aloud.  “What about the medical bay?”

“Checked it myself,” the officer removed two ident cards from his pocket.  “It’s clear.  Their doctor is conducting a surgery on a crewmember.”  He handed the cards to a nearby soldier for scanning.  “I’ve stationed men on the door.”

Edina watched as Hekubah whirled upon Yuri.  “Were you that stupid?” he demanded.  “You actually hid them all down here?”

“I guess I was that stupid,” Yuri chuckled before another baton blow sent him reeling.

“WHERE IS YOUR CAPTAIN?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri stammered as he regained his footing.  “He might…”

“Aw, [i]Kàn zài tā mā de fèn shàng[/i]” Abby raised ‘er voice afore glarin’ at tha guard what tried tah shut ‘er up.  “Yah know gorram well where Cap’n is, Yuri.  Stop coverin’!”

“Shut your mouth, deckhand,” Yuri’s tone went cold, until the detective signaled for another baton strike.

“I want to hear this,” Hekubah ordered.  “Get her on her feet.”   Yuri stared daggers as the guard hauled Abby up, nudging her forward with the barrel of his autorifle.  “Now then, Miss…Travis,” the detective looked up from the crew roster.  “Where is Captain Strand right now?”

Abby pushed ‘er shoulder blade back, stormclouds on ‘er brow fer tha guard what nuzzled her with ‘is gun.  “Same place he is on ever’ day we break atmo.”  She seen Yuri glarin’, an’ turned towards tha rest ‘em.  “Come on!  Y’all gon’ take a beat down ‘cuz Cap’n done gone fer a drink an’ a piece ‘o’ tail?”

“You’re saying he’s at a brothel?”

“It’s ‘is way,” tha deckhand said.  “Even got a joke fer it.  ‘It’s upthrust day!  Gotta go thrust up!’  Never struck me funny.”

Hekubah traded glances with Captain Kondo.  “Which brothel is he at, Miss Travis?”

“Got no idee,” she shook ‘er head.  “Someplace cheap.  He likes ‘em old.  Says old whores laugh easy.”

The plainclothes hefted his cortex.  “This is Hekubah, delta two-seven,” he said.  “I need a BOLO for Calvin Strand, ship’s captain, CV China Doll, VR number 08-22946-L.  Suspected whereabouts may be a local brothel.  Remand for questioning.”  He slipped the little device into his pocket.  “Uncuff that one,” he gestured toward Abby. “Now we’re going to search all the usual smugglers’ pockets here on the cargo deck…beginning with that one,” Hekubah pointed toward a small bulkhead panel.

“Plates’er heavy,” the girl said as she’s cut loose.  “Need a helper.”

“Very well,” the detective shrugged.  “Him too.”

As the soldier removed his handcuffs, Yuri glowered at Abby.  “You conjure,” he said bitterly, “soon as Cal hears how you ratted him out that you’re off his boat?”

“Yeah,” the girl bent tah her task.  “I conjure.”