Logbook entry

For Goodness Sake: You Don't Belong Here

10 Nov 2024Vasil Vasilescu
Following From: For Goodness Sake: Willow, What's the Matter?


“So, you see, agent Estevez, this has been a huge misunderstanding.” Vasil, though annoyed at having to explain the situation for the third time, spoke in a calm, professional tone. “Things may seem convoluted, but in the end there is a simple explanation. We a searching for someone.”

Vasil had already explained several times that he'd been in system acting as a neutral, unarmed rescue vessel during the carrier battle between some of Vengerfield’s pirates and an Imperial Privateer. IISS could verify that he had delivered to the rescue rangers nearly 100 escape pods, one of which contained the privateer captain, Marcella "Red Jade” Enciso whom the IISS had been working with. As for why he was back in system, that also had to do with pirates and why Willow had been asking questions.

No matter how Agent Estevez asked the questions, Vasil consistently explained that Willow was an engineering contractor with ERS, and ERS was looking for a missing lord, Charles Goodness. It happens that Goodness had been a prisoner of the Vengerfield pirates and Willow was attempting to reconstruct wake data for the carriers in order to help find Goodness, which is why she was asking questions about how long the station retained data of that nature.

“The fact that Ms.Thorn did not make it clear to station authority the reasons for her questions is, I believe, the root of this misunderstanding,” said Vasil. “And while that may have led to this situation, the manner in which we’ve been treated--strip searching, no formal charges--is a bit extreme for such a small infraction, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ask the questions,” said Estevez. “All of that does not explain why ERS would be associating itself with a man like Montressor.”

Vasil resisted the urge to point out that was not a question. “Oh, you mean one of ERS’ information and AI security contractors. Difficult jobs require top talent. Finding Charles Goodness, the missing son of a courtier to Princess Aisling, requires talented individuals. Their past is irrelevant as long as their work is superior, and Mr. Montressor is uniquely capabale of sifting through the data involved in such a search.”

“Come on. If everything is a mistake and above board, why did you sneak on station and why were you trying to sneak off station with Thorn in disguise? That’ stinks like rotten fish.

“We were not sneaking, "countered Vasil. "We made no attempt to obfuscate who we were when arriving, and when leaving, we were on public transport--”

“With Thorn having an altered appearance,” interrupted Estevez.

“Hours before, your agents walked up behind Willow and grabbed her without identifying themselves and without any warning,” explained Vasil for the fourth time. “So she popped one in the nose and ran. She had no idea who they were, gets scared, and called us for help. So yes, trying to not be noticed by people who may want to hurt you is a reasonable course of action.”

The door to the small interrogation room slid open. Vasil and Estevez looked, but no one entered.

"Hello?" called Estevez. "Who's there? I'm in the middle of an interrogation." Annoyed, Estevez went to see who was playing games.

The flash and pop of a discharging power link dropped Estevez as soon as he reached the door. Vasil froze in place, unsure if it was a killing or incapacitating discharge. He watched as a shadow briefly covered the half of Estevez in the hall, then retreated with soft footfalls that quietly faded in the distance.

Estevez did not move. Vasil kept his hands on the table, waiting for something to happen. Realizing the camera recoding his interrogation could not see the door, Vasil, looked to it. “Uh... Anyone watching? Might need some help.” But there was no reply.

His first inclination was to leave, but security already knew who he was, and it would not be hard to find him. Up until now, all security had was suspicions. Escape would be difficult to justify and, to security, an admission that he was guilty of something. It would end up being a scandal for the Vasilescu family and ERS, neither of which Vasil was keen to deal with.

He rose and went to check on Estevez. “Oh, hell,” he said, realizing the discharge was more than incapacitating. The only good thing was that the suit they’d given him was basic, without charging capability, so he could not be blamed for zapping Estevez.  “Send medical,” he shouted, going back in the room and waving his arms at the camera. “Hurry!”

Running into the hall, Vasil rushed in the opposite direction the footfalls had gone, pounding on interrogation room doors and shouting for help until, at the end of the hall, the door to prisoner processing slid open.

The officer on the other side of the door, surprised by a detainee without an escort immediately stepped back and drew his sidearm. “On the deck!” he ordered Vasil.

Vasil dropped. “Medical. Call medical,” he urged, motioning back to Estevez laying on the floor.

Vasil was pulled by the collar into processing and held at gunpoint while two other officers rushed to check on Estevez and start CPR. Amid the rush of activity, just as the medical team arrived, flashing lights and alarms warned of a hull breach. "Explosive breach, Interrogation, Section C," announced someone over the PA. "Possible terrorist attack. Set condition Red."

“Shit,” spat the guard watching Vasil. He leveled his pistol at Vasil’s head. “You fuckin’ Marlinists!”

The indignity of the earlier strip search, of a hundred strip searches for that matter, paled compared to the offense of being branded a traitor. “I’m no Marlinist!” Vasil snarled with a sudden anger that surprised the guard enough to step back.

“Only Marlinsists get processed here,” insisted the guard once he recovered his composure. The hiss of emergency regulators began venting atmosphere and reducing pressure in the interrogation blocks to prevent further decompressions. The guard activated his suit helmet and grinned. “No helmet in that suit of yours, Marlinist.”

The rapidly decreasing pressure made it difficult to breath, much less speak, but Vasil, still defiant, pushed out what he assumed were going to be his last words. “We Vasilescus have bled for the Empire! We have given up sons and daughters defending it! My brother and sister died protecting civilians from the Thargoids, and ERS has saved millions of lives! What has your family done for the Empire!”

The guard’s weapon lowered slowly. “ERS,” he started to say, but the rest of his words became muddled as consciousness slipped away from Vasil.

*  *  *


A sharp pain in Vasil’s shoulder shocked him awake. Something was covering his face like a wet bag and forcing its way into his mouth and nose. He thrashed, trying to remove whatever it was.

“Hold him, dammit,” shouted the medic. Someone grabbed Vasil’s arms, pinning them down. The medic pressing the mask over Vasil’s face looked into Vasil’s eyes. “Easy! Just breathe! This is only high flow oxygen. You have minor case of decompression sickness and this will help get rid of any nitrogen bubbles, but you need to remain calm. Do you understand?”

Vasil, calming down, nodded and started breathing deep.

“Good.” the Medic patted Vasil on the chest. “Just rest for a while, and you should be okay aside from some minor joint pain for a few hours. You’re lucky Allan brought you to us when he did. Otherwise we might not be talking.” The medic placed Vasil’s hand on the mask and looked to the person who had been holding Vasil’s arms. “I have to go take care of others, Allan. Another few minutes and he should be good.”

Vasil looked to Allan, the guard that had watched him faint in prisoner processing as air was being sucked out of the room. Now, he was in the lobby of the security depot where a triage had been set up for injured personnel.

Allan answered the question in Vasil’s eyes. “I almost left you,” he said. “But I had to be sure what you said was true. ERS rescued my sister and her family about a year ago. They are living on Emerald because of your family. I don’t know why you were brought to this station. It is where Marlinists are interrogated.” Vasil understood the emphasis with which Allan said ‘interrogated’ to mean tortured. “You and the others that arrived with you are obviously not Marlinist terrorists.”

Vasil pulled the mask off his face. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know. But someone has scheduled you and the others for immediate release," said Allan, standing. Vasil had a damn good idea who had done such a thing, but knew it was best not to say anything. "Apparently there was false report of suspicious activity. We are sorry for your inconvenience and will take appropriate actions against those filing the false report. I suggest you leave the depot as soon as you are able, Mr. Vasilescu, and hope your friends do as well.”
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