You've Been Really "Helpful"

Posted on Mon Aug 3rd, 2026 @ 7:35pm by Lonian Royal Sovereignty & Lieutenant Commander Tate Sullivan Ph.D.

Mission: Season 6: Episode 7: Crossroads of Destiny
Location: Niea IV : Detention Centre
Timeline: MD4, before "The Cell Is Your Oyster"
1231 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Once the cuffs were secure, the guards hauled any prisoners who were on the ground to their feet and began guiding them into the centre. The ones who were struggling remained behind as guards fought to keep them under control.

On the other side of a set of doors was what looked like an intake office. A couple of consoles were positioned by half-walled cubbies. Another prisoner, a Lonian who happened to be arrested just before the Elysium crew, was led into one of those cubbies. Only his shoulders and head were visible over the wall. Shortly after he stopped in the middle of the cubby space, a transporter beam engulfed him for a couple seconds before his clothing was replaced with a grey shirt and grey pants. He was then led through a set of doors that hissed firmly shut behind them.

The guards had Tate stop at one of the cubbies so they could search her for weapons. The communicator was confiscated and disabled, and any personal items were put into a storage container. They then moved her toward the cubby, where a transporter pad circle could be seen on the ground. "Stand on the pad," the guard ordered.

Tate appeared outwardly calm, but inwardly she was shaken. Seeing Naxea shot right before her eyes was awful and only reinforced for Tate the importance of not acting rashly. She had to keep it together and focus on the facts in front of her. The Lonians clearly wanted to provide some semblance of due process, and while she knew there was always the chance that evidence was manufactured against them for nefarious reasons, her gut told her this was an act of desperation rather than a calculated plan. After all, if the guards had wanted to kidnap she and Rin, they could have done so without the pretense of seeking help. That she was not in a warehouse with a bag over her head and was instead in some sort of processing center was also a sign things could be worse, though her nervous system wasn't especially calmed by the thought. She would have to keep trying.

"When do I speak to my legal representative?" Tate asked. She stood on the pad as directed, but was not going to stop trying to get information, whether directly or indirectly.

Once Tate stood on the pad, a transporter briefly activated. It replaced her attire with a grey shirt and pants, and once it was done the guard, Siva, grabbed the prisoner by the arm. "You'll get a chance to prove your innocence," she replied, largely ignoring the question about legal representation.

Tate recognized the effort to dehumanize her immediately by changing her clothing. It wasn’t a beating or even a verbal assault, but an event didn’t need to be dramatic to leave a lasting impression. She refused to make a sound, even as the guard grabbed her roughly by the arm. Tate wasn’t about to offer the satisfaction.

Siva's guidance was unkind, as her grip was tight enough to probably leave a bruise. She brought the prisoner toward a reception desk, where a female guard who looked bored out of her mind waited.

Laeru glanced up when she heard footsteps approach, then shifted into work mode with the urgency of a sloth deciding which branch to nap on. "Name and species," she said, looking to the computer. While she had looked up, her eyes only fell on Tate for the fraction of a second it took to acknowledge her existence.

"Tate Sullivan, human," Sullivan offered firmly and clearly. Her flesh was sore where it had been squeezed so tightly, but as unsettling as this was, she knew she needed to keep calm and keep things in perspective. Until she had a plan, she knew it was unwise to act rashly.

A pause as Laeru typed. "Age?"

"Thirty-five," she replied simply.

Another pause, then the guard asked, "and you understand the Arresting Rights?"

This question got Tate's attention, both because it suggested she was at least entitled to the appearance of due process and because nothing of the sort had actually happened. "I don't know what those are. I was transported here against my will with others and then told I was arrested. You're the first person since that happened that has uttered the word 'rights.'"

Laeru glanced up at Tate, her expression clearly making some kind of judgement, before glancing to the guard escorting her. She sighed as her gaze shifted back to the prisoner. "You have protection against self-incrimination, a right to due process, and a right to the fundamental preservation of life. You will be given an opportunity to make your case against the charges on record."

"Great," Tate replied. "When exactly will I get that opportunity and will I be given legal representation to meet with beforehand?"

"Soon," Laeru answered, in a way that read Tate's question as impatience. She made sure to look Tate up and down when she added, "prisoners represent themselves here unless they are incapable. You seem perfectly able to speak on your own." She then gestured toward a station that had yet another guard waiting. This one had an open silver vest that stopped about mid-thigh. "The medic will take a blood sample to identify allergens and ensure your nutritional needs are met, then you'll wait your turn for questioning."

Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic remark about the other woman’s answer being super helpful, Tate simply nodded. She wasn’t thrilled about giving her blood to these people, but she couldn’t argue their reasoning, and the fact she was going to be fed could be considered a good sign. if they’d wanted to poison her, they could’ve done it before now, after all.

The process was fairly quick. Siva led Tate by the arm to the medic, who pressed a hypospray to her shoulder. The medic then turned to the console to process the sample, and Siva guided Tate onward through a set of doors. As they entered the next room, Naxea's unconscious form was being hauled through doors on the opposite side. She was only visible for a second or two before the doors shut.

As Tate was moved around by the arm, she tried to keep her muscles tight enough to function but relaxed enough not to cause herself any more discomfort. She needed to remain alert and to keep her wits about her, something she was grateful she had prioritized when she caugnt sight of Naxea being dragged across what she hoped was still an area for medical care. Sullivan strained to get a glimpse of Naxea's condition beyond what she hoped was jusr unconsciousness, but she was gone in a heartbeat. Tate swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Sullivan could endure whatever was going to be done to her, but seeing others hurt was its own torture.

Siva pushed Tate toward a space that... really wasn't that big. Enough for just one person. "You'll wait here for questioning," Siva sneered, activating the forcefield. "After, you'll go to long-term holding."

The sneering tone was too much and Sullivan gave herself over to her impulse this time, reminded that suffering was a choice. "Thanks for the info," Tate replied sweetly with an obvious overtone of sarcasm. "You've been really helpful."