Rum Hunt

Posted on Sun Jun 18th, 2017 @ 6:59pm by Captain Rueben Gregnol

Mission: Mission 4 - Combustion
Location: Deck 3 - Ward Room
Timeline: MD -07 21:00
2138 words - 4.3 OF Standard Post Measure

Previously on “Reuben the "Kidnapped" Captain” :

The Bolian rolled his eyes, produced an antiquated hypospray, and injected Rueben without warning, right in the shoulder. "There you go. Anti-inflammatory and analgesic. I think. Could've been a placebo, I'm not too sure. If you feel better, it was the real thing. Anyway, I'll actually fix your shoulder when we happen upon some proper surgical equipment. Until then, try not to fall down anymore. Oh, sorry, I mean, 'get kidnapped.'"

"You've got contacts in Starfleet... search my name if you really don't believe me," Rueben said standing up tugging on his t-shirt with a small wince at where he had stuck the hypospray. "I didn't want to leave..." Was all the man said before he disappeared out of the sickbay.

And now, the conclusion:

Rueben searched through the Ward Room determined to find where Dixoho had stashed the bottle of rum he had seen her drinking the night before when they had been discussing the journey to Ardana. He turned a little as the door whooshed open seeing that the figure in the doorway wasn’t female so couldn’t be the Chief Navigator he turned back to searching.

“I will willingly share if you can help me find something.” He called leaning over behind one of the sofas.

"It's about time we started discussing some kind of profit-sharing scheme," Olsam said, launching into what was clearly some sort of prepared argument he'd just been waiting to bust out. "I do far too much work around here not to receive a percentage of our profits outright. Do you hear what I'm saying? You'd all be dead if it wasn't for me, and I think that's worth at least 5% of every contract on top of my salary. Which could itself use some adjusting. Do you know how much my colleagues in the Orion Syndicate make?"

"Mott!" Rueben turned around and looked at the Bolian. "I know what they do and they do work like my shoulder." The Captain hissed as he sat around properly on the old fashioned couch, his quest for the stashed rum stopped for now.

"You're awfully cranky," Olsam said, producing a medical tricorder from his pocket. Without permission (he was the ship's doctor; in his mind, he didn't need it), he began scanning the captain. "Are you suffering withdrawal symptoms? Are you looking for a substance to abuse? It's my responsibility as ship's doctor to discourage substance abuse, Captain Gregnol."

"I am normally cranky when you are around," Rueben said simply as he spotted the man scanning with the tricorder. He frowned wondering if he batted it out of his hands if he would stop going on about his suffering withdrawal symptoms and actually just help him find the bottle. "I am searching for Saa's bottle of booze... if I was abusing substances I would have gone for any number of the ones on the side."

"Hmm. I suppose so. What kind of booze?" Mott asked.

"Rum?" He answered hoping if the man would join him it would distract him from caring too much about him medically.

Olsam made a noise of confirmation and then turned his attention back to his scans. After a couple of minutes, he gestured toward a wall panel. "There's something matching the chemical composition of Terran rum in a false panel there in the bulkhead. It looks like if you press on the panel's lower right corner, it should dislodge." He closed up his tricorder and gave the captain a very smug look.

Rueben grinned and moved over to the panel and pressed it hard, it opened with a pop revealing where Dixoho had been hiding more than just the bottle of rum. "I'm more and more impressed with that girl." He said grabbing it out glancing at the other bottle that was there as well. He placed it down on the table nearest one of the over stuffed couches. He moved across the room to retrieve glasses and quickly moved healthy measures in each one.

"This ship is full of smugglers, thieves, and mercenaries," Olsam said as he picked up his glass. Apparently, he wasn't morally outraged enough not to benefit from the spoils. The doctor lowered his bulk into the corner of one of the couches and did the very odd, very alien thing of sipping the rum. "I asked some people in Starfleet about you. The Office of Personnel Management even asked me if I had any knowledge of your whereabouts."

"Can't say that Saa fits into any of those categories," He mused sitting down to enjoy the drink. He looked at the man as he finally said something that if he hadn't become a colder man might have made him worry or suprised him. "And what did you tell them?" He asked staring at the blue man. It wasn't something the OPM should have been questioning if Starfleet Intelligence was doing there job correctly.

"I told them I saw you die in a surfing accident on my latest vacation to Risa," Olsam said. "I told them you were eaten by a very large shark. I told them I witnessed the entire thing from start to finish. I saw it rip you to shreds. And I'm a doctor, so I should know when someone is ripped to shreds." He smirked and sipped the rum again. "Then I started telling them all about my holiday on Risa until they claimed there was subspace interference and hung up on me. I don't think they believed a word I said."

Rueben but couldn't help but burst out laughing at the man and the imaged it conjured up in his head about some poor personnel officer hanging up the Bolian.

"A much more dignified way to go than how I actually died." The man mused softly.

"They sent me your personnel file. It ended abruptly. You could have been a Starfleet captain instead of dragging this hunk of junk from port to port," Olsam said, looking around the room for signs of decrepitude.

"That is possibly the nicest thing you have said to me in the last few months." Rueben thought out loud taking in a deep breath. "Asked the wrong question in the wrong place and lost everything." He said the bitterness that had once been in his voice with that phrase long gone leaving him sad and a bit wistful.

Olsam nodded with understanding. "What did you ask?"

"If anyone had heard about Barton. For all his faults like selling you a ticket for a luxury cruise or buying this hunk of junk he was my best friend and simply asking that question got people interested in me and the shuttle I was on was attacked, three dead security Officers, one pretty much dead Engineer and one kidnapped Executive Officer." He said simply with a shrug. He should have known not to ask people about Barton but he had just wanted to find out where his friend was to check that he was okay.

"I guess I should stop asking around about a refund then," Olsam deadpanned.

"Doctor..." It was the first time that Rueben had referred to him as that without a sense of sarcasm. "I will drop you off anywhere you want to at any point." He assured quickly, the man had done more than 99 percent of the crew to make sure they had gotten this far.

"Did you ever find out what he was involved in that was important enough to kill for?"

"Oh, lots and lots of things enough." It had been everything from narcotics to slavery. "Starfleet arrested him... it is over with him but my life still won't settle down. If you know about me you know about Jeassaho?" He hoped the Doctor wouldn't go spilling to Jeassaho that he knew all of this.

"Not as much," Olsam admitted. "I looked into the shuttle crash a little bit, but I didn't investigate her as much as you." He narrowed his eyes a little bit. "She isn't half as suspicious. Why? Something I should know about her, too? Does everyone on this ship have secrets to hide?"

"Good... that was the shuttle incident that did this shoulder. She was pretty much dead when I got taken." Rueben shook his head like he was being scolded. “No, she doesn’t have any secrets she really is a Lieutenant Commander and her commission is active. She’s my fiancée or was…before I died… I might have arranged her kidnapping from Starfleet to protect her. She’s pretty mad at me in all honesty.” He admitted smiling a little at the look that would appear on Mott’s face at the notion.

"So, she used to be your fiancee. But then you died. Except, you weren't dead. But somehow the "death" nullified your engagement. And then you kidnapped her in order to protect her from... Something. Shuttlecraft, presumably? Or the people that are trying to kill you? Except, she doesn't want to be kidnapped by you because..." He stopped and took on so thoughtful a look that one could almost see the gears turning. "Because why? I don't get it. Why is she mad at you? I mean, I could stand here all day and guess, that's for sure. There are plenty of reasons for a person to hate you, not least of which are the pathetic excuse for rations you keep stocked in the mess hall. And the low pay. And the state of the ship. And the crew."

"Mott... that is another conversation for another day but let us just say she is really mad at me and she has a lot of reasons and they are all personal but mostly cause I was dead," Rueben said simply downing the drink he had been staring at thoughtfully. It wasn't the fact he had been 'dead' it had been the fact he lied about he knew that but he couldn't tell her the real reasons why he played dead, it would destroy her whole idea of the Federation. He poured another healthy measure before holding the bottle up for the Doctor to take. "Hey food isn't that bad, it is fresh. Your pay is better than the Orion Syndicate no matter how much you moan and say it isn't and the crew is okay it could be worse you could be in the Orion Syndicate and forced to do work like my shoulder." Rueben said, his accent thickening as he spoke.

"Don't be absurd. I'd die before I performed a hack job like that," Olsam said, and he sounded like he meant it. He took the bottle, inspected it, and then topped off his own glass. After awhile, he asked, "You faked your own death, or someone faked it for you?"

Rueben nodded, he had merely been teasing as he knew that Mott was a good doctor. "It indeed is a hack... but your support is very much appreciated." He rolled his shoulder. "I really was taken and presumed dead... but i escaped with Barton and that's when it got complicated."

"Escaped with Barton, huh? You mean he escaped and you happened to come along? Because I find it hard to believe he'd orchestrate anything that purposefully helped another person out of the goodness of his heart," Olsam huffed.

The Russain looked at Mott. "You really don't like him do you?" He mused thinking back carefully on what had happened for them to escape from the cartels.

"Of course not," Olsam said, twisting up his nose. "Would you, if you thought you were buying a ticket on a luxury cruiseliner destined for a tropical locale for a well-deserved sabbatical but instead ended up on a rust bucket full of misfits for whom you now feel morally and ethically obligated to provide medical care?"

"You don't have to Olsam." Rueben assured. "I can find another Doctor if you want to go back to your commission." Rueben wouldn't blame the man in the slightest, he would give quite a lot to be able to go back. "I would if I could. I would have a super nice ship... really nice quarters replicator and best of all not humming." He indicated the constant hum he could hear no matter where he was on the ship. "I looked quite fetching in my uniform as well."

Olsam stared for a minute - he'd never heard of a riches-to-rags story - and then sipped his rum again. "No, no. I'll continue providing these medical services at rock bottom prices until you can at least afford some decent replicators."

OFF::

Rueben Gregnol
Captain
SS Mary Rose

Olsam Mott, M.D.
Ship's Doctor
SS Mary Rose