The Crucible

Oct. 9 - Alliance Transport, Alexander class, orbiting Zenobia

Sentry Swashbuckler Interrogation

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"Hello Mr. Boomslang."

The bounty hunter was standing in the hall when I emerged from the galley. It was the day after we had apprehended Sentry Swashbuckler on MacLaren's Drift.

He nodded in greeting. "How's yehr prisoner doin'?"

"I am about to go take a look."

Mr. Boomslang looked at the two figures in the hallway and jerked a thumb at them, "Droids?"

"Yes. They activate under fire." I refrained from mentioning that they didn't stop either.

Mr. Boomslang nodded, his eyes narrow. He had no love for AI's takin' the jobs what should be for humans it seemed.

"I will go see the prisoner." I paused for a moment preparing myself for what was to come.

"I'll wait here," the bounty hunter drawled.

The double doors to the holding cell hissed open and closed as I entered.

My prisoner lay on his bunk and moaned a bit.

"Sentry..." I said gently, softly.

Sentry Swashbuckler turned over, "Huh?"

"How is your arm?" I asked.

"Oh, its better, thanks." He got up from the bed.

"So how is your memory?" I offered him a fresh coffee.

"As fuzzy as a slipper apparently… Takes time to wake up. Nice bed there." He nods to the cushion. He took the coffee, "Thanks... you know, you are gonna give the Alliance a bad name. You’re not supposed to be this nice."

"I want to hear more about the blastomere transaction."

He sipped from the cup.

I continued, "The man you mentioned... the one doing the buying… describe him."

Sentry looked up. "Told you yesterday, I didn’t see who they were. Just heard words."

"Then describe his voice."

"Medium timbre, not the best English speaker I ever heard... lot of 'gots' and 'haves' that don’t need to be plural."

"And the accent? Where was he from?"

Sentry thought for a second. "Not rightly sure. Hard to tell sometimes with all that noise. Sounded rimward though."

I pressed. "Have you heard his voice before? How often does he come into the bar?"

"Heard all those voices before…. Traders in and out of there a lot… That’s what makes 'em so hard to figure out."

I switched targets, "And the other person ... doing the selling…describe the voice."

Sentry took another drink. "Deeper voice, but female, I think... hard to tell sometimes."

Good, I thought. "Okay and what was she wearing?"

He shook his head. "If it was a female... and I said I couldn’t tell... she'd be wearing dresses. Well... maybe." He looked at me in my uniform then continued, "I hear things. I tend not to look at people, makes 'em nervous. And nervous traders don't do business."

"Go on," I encouraged, "Tell me about that."

"I've been able to get lots of traders to come to MacLaren's and specifically Prosperity. They come for the music, the drinks, and the chance to do some business. Nothin' wrong with keepin' trade alive in the Black. 'Specially on a small dirt ball like Mac's."

"Tell me about some of them. Who is the most active trader?"

Sentry shook his head. "You…You're not understanding me... I *don't* look at them. How should I know who's most active?"

"You do know the names of people," I stated as a matter of fact.

"I know who goes in and out, yes."

"Tell me about them…who goes in and out."

Sentry shook his head again. "You already have a camera watching the place... you don’t need me for that."

"As we left yesterday, you told your friends to ‘tell Immi and Duncan’…tell me about them."

Sentry stopped mid drink, and looks at me. "You're kidding..."

"No," I replied. "I want to help you but I need you to help me."

Sentry became emotional. "You want to help me into a grave, is what you're doing. You know damn well and good who they are. Everyone in the 12th is on your radar."

I shrugged. I would not comment. I would give him nothing to press against.

"The 12th... Independent Calvary? You really don't know?"

"Suppose you tell me."

Sentry became intractable. "Suppose I don't..."

I sighed. "Sentry ... you have a murder charge against you. I can have that charge removed." Then as if conceding I said, "Okay…."

He looked at me curiously.

"I just want you to talk," I said reasonably, "about MacLaren’s and the people who are there. I am not asking you to betray anyone."

Sentry mumbled, "The hell you aren't..."

Time to show him how far we have come together.

"So, we have now established that Duncan and Immi were in the 12th."

Sentry closed his eyes, as if he just let some information out he didn't intend to.

I continued, "Shall we continue down that road? Or go back to the traders in genetic material? Who would you like to protect more?"

Sentry sighed, "Now we see the sneaky come out…Either give up the people that put their lives on the line for me, or some traders that I'm not even sure who they are. Nice set of choices there."

"Well, you may not think you remember details about those traders...but you might be surprised what information you picked up."

He nodded.

"You will have seen something... you just need to play with the memory. Let it unfold." I stated, "A woman with a deep voice offered to sell blastomeres to a man from the rim."

Sentry wasn’t ready yet. "Don't you people use intimidation and drugs and such to make that happen? Isn't that how the movies go?"

"Would you like that Sentry? I told you I want cooperation…now and in the future."

Sentry said sarcastically, "Oh sure, drug me up and make me sing like a canary."

"…. in return I will keep you safe from these charges and if the information you provide is helpful we can arrange further benefits. Do you want to pour drinks from the rest of your life? Think about that."

Sentry grinned, "You really should read your information better. Bartender is what I do to help the people at Mac's. It's not all I can do."

"What would you like to do?"

He shrugged, "Same as I do now. Keep people protected."

"A mechanic and a medic....on a backwater planet like MacLaren’s. You know you can do better…that you deserve better."

"I've been in the Alliance army. I know what better is. You ain't got that."

"And what about the private sector in the Core. Your services would be highly valued." I tried again. "A woman with a deep voice offered to sell blastomeres to a man from the rim. Fill in the details."

Sentry stopped and thought for a second. "Go on..."

"A woman.... in pants….in a dress?"

"Only females I've seen are the traders in pressure suits, and the Companions in dresses. Oh, ..and Brooke."

"She was in a pressure suit then. She was a trader. Her voice was deep."

"Kinda have to be...Sounds right so far."

"And she knew the man… she must have known the man."

Sentry stopped me. "Don’t know about that. Traders pair off and talk all the time, even those that don't know no one."

"What did she say again?"

"Something about needin' to get rid of blastomeres... didn't say much else that I could hear," he replied.

"Where were they sitting?"

"In the bar?" He chuckled. "Probably came up for a drink, or I never would have heard them."

"They were at the bar. What was the woman drinking? What was the man drinking?"

Sentry answered, "He had moonshine, the other one was tequila... she brought her own."

Gotcha, I thought. "You served him a drink."

"That’s why I'm called the bartender."

He hadn't realized yet. "You passed him a drink. Remember the moment…. his face... his hand taking the drink. Who was he, Sentry?"

Sentry suddenly got panicky. "Um, I don't know..."

I smiled.

He tried not to look at my face.

"It’s okay Sentry..." I purred. "It will be okay. Tell me who it was."

Sentry turned away. "I'm not talking any more."

"You know him. He’s a friend."

Sentry shook his head.

Back up, I thought, too far. "You know him."

Sentry stammered out, "I'm not answering you any more!"

"Do you fear him?" I asked.

Sentry chuckled, "You should..."

"Oh and why is that?" I challenged. "Why should I fear this man?"

He started to say something, then shut his mouth and turned back around. I pressed my advance, "Why should I fear this nameless man? Is he well connected? Is he a crime lord?" I chuckled.

Sentry’s eyes got big. "Crime lord? On Mac's?"

"So why should I fear him? What can he do to me? What are his plans?"

He smiled a bit, "Traders don't get to be big ‘cause they roll over easy."

"So he is a big trader," I replied.

Sentry closed his mouth again.

"One of the big names…like who?"

Sentry snorted a bit. "Go watch your surveillance."

"We have established this is a man…."

"You'll see him," promised Sentry

"… so that rules out Brazen and Raghilda."

Sentry looked away. I’m close.

"Sentry ... you have to think about this.... you are accused of murdering an Alliance soldier…"

"Apparently that isn’t gonna change either," said Sentry.

I continued, "…this man, this big trader…He is trading in illegal genetic material. You have the chance to do something right."

He looked at me quizzically. "Right, by whose standards? 'Cause the way I see it, I'm giving you a lot of info you didn't have. Those blasto-whatevers are gone. GONE. Even if I did tell you that ... someone had them, they probably don’t have them any more."

I was undeterred, "But you do know who bought them.."

"I know someone TALKED about them. That’s about it."

"You sold the man a drink. You recognized him."

Sentry sighed, "Yes, we went over this. A moonshine."

"He is a big trader. What is his name?"

Sentry shook his head. "No."

"That’s the last question...." I offered

"Good. Cause it’s the last I'm answering for today."

"The only question and then we are done," I promised, "What was the trader's name?"

Sentry was firm. "Answer is still no."

I smiled. "Okay..." I said. "You are right. You deserve rest… but tell me this: why should I fear this man?"

"That’s your choice," replied Sentry. "Fear him or not, he's gonna be around a long time. Power begets fear. Alliance knows that well as anyone. You sure use it enough."

"So he is powerful…" I wouldn’t let up.

"Getting there..."

"Lots of ships, offices…" I added. "Where does he trade?" Innocent questions, but not here, not in this room.

Sentry realized it too. He clearly didn't like where my questions were going. "Try looking at your surveillance. You know where he trades from."

"He trades here? On Zenobia?"

Sentry laughed a bit. "Is that where this is? I've never been to this part of the 'verse."

"Then where does he trade from?"

"Check. Your. Surveillance." he said emphatically.

"I will say the name of a place…just answer yes or no…Hales Moon?"

"You really expect me to answer those?"

"Yes I do Sentry." I sounded like his older sister.

"Well, wish in one hand, and... you know the rest."

"You have spirit," I laughed then shifted again. "How is that arm?"

Sentry looked at it. "It's fine... why?" Then he noticed it start to itch. "Sure hope that it’s healin..."

"It is bleeding though the bandage. Tell me what else this man trades in."

"He's a trader... probably lots of stuff."

"The legal items that you know of….. food? medicine? water?"

"Lots of water. Some meds, cause Prosperity needs tons of them."

"A water trader," I repeated.

And then I was done. "Splintered Rock," I said. Even to me the words sounded like glass breaking.

Sentry looked down and cursed in a whisper.

The tension drained from the room.

There was only one possible trader that fit the scenario. Works the MacLaren’s run. The big water trader on the Rock. The man who has the blasotmeres. Teetopwillie Neiro. The next link in the chain.

Sentry had done well. He had come a long way.

"It will be okay Sentry. You did the right thing. Now why don't you rest..."

Sentry laughed, but not happily. "I'm glad you think so..."

"… and soon I'll have someone bring in some food and a change on the bandage."

"Yeah, ok..." he said as he crawled back onto his bed. He turned to face the wall.

I smiled at him as gently as I could.

Satisfied, I left the prison cell and headed for my shuttle.