Cosmos
Part One
This wasn’t Hal’s first time on the “right” side of a one-way mirror. In fact, in his years aboard ESD as a security officer he found himself gazing into an interrogation room more times than he gazed into his own reflection in his quarters. He thought back to that oh-so-familiar room, a strangely posh setting given the type of crowd it frequently held, with its soft red carpet and sleek white walls shining under bright overhead lights. Indeed it was a far cry from the coarse, rusted metal that met the legal definition of a ‘floor’ at Penal Colony 47. His memories now turned to darker hallways lit by bulbs as defeated as the inhabitants, and sections of hull that groaned as the colony shifted on the asteroid’s surface, threatening a breach at any given moment. It was a place he usually only visited in nightmares these days, but not today. Now it wasn’t a figment of his past, but rather a possible future for young Orion male sitting on the opposite side of the mirror.
Hal looked down at his PADD again, the third time he’d done so in just as many minutes. There was nothing new on the screen, just the same biographical information he’d memorized days ago:
- NAME: Arrin-Sar
- Species: Orion
- Gender: Male
- DOB: Unknown (estimated age 14)
- Place of Birth: Orion
Not much to go off of, but Hal wasn’t surprised. In fact he wondered if his own file was just as bare when the USS Matriarch first pulled him off his derelict shuttle. He straightened back up and turned his attention to the two people just a thin pane of glass away: Arrin-Sar, and the investigator that JAG had dispatched to the starbase. The stark difference between the two was almost painful for Hal to acknowledge: a kid who looked disheveled and malnourished even after weeks of care courtesy of Starfleet, wearing baggy, woven-fiber clothing that was about three sizes too big for him. Opposite Arrin-Sar was a tall, serious woman with porcelain-perfect skin accented with subdued make-up, sitting with one leg crossed at the knee in her pressed, soot black uniform. The JAG investigator, Lt. Commander Addison Hunt, sat quietly with the smallest of smiles while Arrin-Sar sipped on the water she had provided. Hal couldn’t tell what Hunt was reading from the teenager’s body language, but he knew already. Names had meaning to the Orions, and for Arrin-Sar to have to sit with someone with a family name of Hunt… Hal figured the teen would circle the wagons, give as little as he could to someone he thought wanted to hurt him.
Hunt slowly leaned forward on her side of the table; Arrin-Sar retreated the same distance, at least until he was pressed all the way back in his chair.
“Good evening, Arrin-Sar.”
“Is that what time it is? …There’s no viewports in here.”
“Ah. Yes, I’m sorry that you were kept waiting for so long.”
She wasn’t sorry, Hal knew. It was two classic interrogation tactics in one swift move: disorient the suspect by impeding their sense of time, and isolating them from their pack to exploit individual weakness. He tried to make it clear to Hunt that Arrin-Sar was a kid and not an enemy combatant, but expected it to fall on deaf ears since JAG had their way of doing things. Arrin-Sar, for his part, was trying to pull off a notion of indifference.
“I’m sure you’re a busy woman.”
“That I am. But tonight, you have all of my attention.”
“…Is that necessary? I told you everything I know.”
“I just want to go over it one more time, make sure I fully understand the situation you were put in.”
Feigned sympathy, and asking for a recap like it was to the teen’s benefit. Both ploys meant to lower Arrin-Sar’s guard and catch him in a lie. But the kid wasn’t lying, Hal knew it in his gut. But he also knew Arrin-Sar’s retelling wouldn’t be exact. It never is, when the thing you’re forced to relive is the thing you want to forget. Hal pulled up the transcript from the last interview, and waited.
“…From the beginning?” Hunt simply nodded. “I… was aboard a pirate ship, one of three. We attacked another ship in Federation space, near Betazed. …A starfleet vessel warped on top of us, transported us to their brig.”
“Yes, they did. But somehow, YOU managed to wiggle your way out.” Arrin-Sar didn’t take the bait. “So. At this point, you’re free from the cell. What do you choose to do next?”
Hal shook his head and muttered, “Come on Arrin-Sar, don’t fall for that…”
Arrin-Sar crossed his arms. “…My orders were to take the power offline.” Attaboy. For a moment Hal wondered if Hunt had some Betazoid blood in her when she side-eyed the mirror.
“Continue.”
“Jaggav… wanted me to disable the warp core. But there was too many people around. I doubled-back, followed a power cable to the nearest junction.”
“And sabotaged it.”
“…Yeah.”
“…How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That the cable powered the brig. There’s a lot of cables and panels in the jeffries tubes of your average Starfleet ship. And the Mariner, well… she’s a one-of-a-kind ship that you’d never seen before. How did you know that cable didn’t power life support? Or the medbay? Or even just the mess hall replicators?”
“I… I just did.”
“…Hm.” Another side-eye from Hunt. Hal didn’t like that. “In any event, you were successful. The prisoners escaped and injured some of the Starfleet crew.”
“…Yes.” Arrin-Sar twisted in his chair, curling to one side and away from the mirror so Hal couldn’t only see his back.
“How many did you plan to kill yourself?”
“…What?” What?
“How many did you plan to kill yourself? Isn’t it common for Syndicate operatives to brag about their killcount?”
“N-No! I… I don’t know. I didn’t want to-”
“Which is it, Arrin-Sar? It’s not common to brag, or you don’t know if they brag?”
“I…”
“How many have you killed? One? Ten? More?”
“None! I-I’d never-!”
“Are you sure? You’ve been with Jagaav’s crew for a long time, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know how long-”
“How long have you worked for Jagaav?” Rapid fire questions. Don’t give your suspect time to regain their footing. Keep them moving, keep them emotional, let them slip. “What was it about Jagaav’s crew that appealed to you? What made you want to join him?” Already Hal could see Arrin-Sar reaching up with his sleeve to dab away tears at the corners of his eyes.
That was enough. He tapped a button at the window’s edge, and there was a soft click in the interrogation room. “Lt. Commander Hunt. Medical is ready for Arrin-Sar’s follow-up exam.” Hunt’s gaze drilled into the mirror, the crow’s feet near her eyes more prominent from her squinting.
“That isn’t until 1930.”
“The doctor had an opening in her schedule.”
Hunt exhaled through her nose, settling deeper into her own chair as she crossed her arms. “Can’t blame her for making every minute count. Fine. Escort our guest, Lieutenant.” Another soft click and the intercom went silent. Hal pocketed his PADD, circled to the door into the interrogation room, and opened it wide. It was the first time Arrin-Sar laid eyes on Hal… and the teen recoiled, sniffing loudly and hiding his face behind those baggy sleeves. Hunt noticed this too, and her previously hardened expression turned to something more… sympathetic? No. Curious, maybe.
Hal took cautious, slow steps closer to Arrin-Sar, taking a knee next to the teen’s chair so the two were eye-to-eye. He offered the kid a small smile, his tone gentle and even. “Hello Arrin-Sar, my name is Hal Vaas.” He waited a moment, unsure what Arrin-Sar’s next move might be.
But the teen surprised him again, meeting Hal’s gaze and softly replying, “…Hi. Are you taking me to the doctor now?”
“That’s right, I am. You and I are going back to the Mariner to see Dr. Greene.”
Arrin-Sar shifted again, pulling a knee up to his chest. “Do I… have to see her? She probably doesn’t want to see me again.”
“Don’t worry, Dr. Greene doesn’t hold grudges. She’s used to rowdy patients. Ask her about the time she tried to give me a Bolian flu vaccine.” A sliver of a smile crept across Arrin-Sar’s face. Hal seized the chance and slowly rose, offering the teen a hand out of his seat, which he accepted. Once Arrin-Sar was standing it finally hit Hal just how small the teenager was, even for an adolescent of his species. Another mystery to investigate, this time with the doctor.
“You… have a file on me. Right? I remember, she was the first person to ask what my name was.”
“Mm. That’s right.”
“So, she can fix it then? My name? It’s… not right.” Arrin-Sar looked to Hunt, who in turn arched a brow as if the eye contact was some kind of challenge. Hal just looked between them both.
“Oh. Certainly, we can fix that. Are we adding a family name?”
“No… fixing my given name. It’s not Arrin-Sar. It’s just Arrin…” The teen looked up to Hal, offering a small shrug coupled with a shift in the eyes, a nudge to Hal that he’d understand the context. …And he did, which he signaled back with a deep sigh and a single nod.
“Right… got it.” That left one last person in the room, Hunt, who was none the wiser. He pulled out his PADD, called up Arrin’s file, and purged the last syllable. Hunt’s own PADD pinged to notify her of the change, compelling her to rise from her seat.
“Lieutenant,” she said sternly, “You are NOT authorized to alter an inmate record.”
“I am Chief of Security for the Mariner-” an admission that again made Arrin recoil in uncertainty, “and the originator OF his record. I absolutely have the authority.”
“It changes his identity in our system!”
“It sure does, but not how you think.” With that he gently placed a hand on Arrin’s shoulder, offering a smile and a friendly head nudge toward the door, where another security officer was waiting. The teen looked back one last time before going with the new face, and Hall waited until their footsteps were out of earshot. “…Sar isn’t part of his legal name. In the native Orion tongue, some names do end in ‘sar,’ just a meaningless syllable in the name. But in the modern day it’s more of a… ‘status,’ I guess you would call it. I’m not surprised the universal translator didn’t catch the difference. Hell, I didn’t.”
“Then why were Jaggav and his crew calling him Arrin-Sar?”
Hal closed his eyes and sighed. “Because if someone adds ‘Sar’ to the end of your name, they’re calling you property.” He turned away, leaving a stunned Hunt with mouth slightly agape as the door closed behind Hal.