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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Mission: Death in the Shadows</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Day: 5</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Stardate: 2446.02.04</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font face="Arial"><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">(USS Illuminar - Deck 2
</span></font><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">–</span><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> Personal Quarters of Sanchez – SFI Michael Weston – 0112)</span></font></font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font face="Arial"><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br>
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><font face="Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Weston
had spent the evening pondering the events of the past few days. Sanchez had attempted to kill the captain. In his haste to escape he had set in motion what was most likely to have been his own demise, but that had gotten interrupted. However, death had been
looking for Mr. Sanchez, and it found him in the brig. Everything happened with haste, yet it all seemed planned. He knew he
</span></font><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">would have to go back to move forward on his investigation. So he went back to the last place he had been when looking for Sanchez originally, the man’s quarters. He must have missed something.</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br>
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Getting
into Sanchez’s quarters was a lot easier this time. First of all he hadn’t had to skulk around for a hours to wait for the right moment. Secondly there were no guards posted at the door of his quarters. And thirdly, he had the captain’s assurances that he
had free run of the ship. He was certain that Sekal was somehow monitoring his movements, but at least he could go where he needed. And right now he needed to be in Sachez’s quarters.</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br>
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Michael
stepped up to the door and pulled out a small device. He placed the device on the door and tapped the controls. The door opened. Michael grabbed the device and stepped inside as the door closed. He looked around the room, vaguely remembering his previous visit.
The hole in the wall was still open, but that did not hold Weston’s attention. He was looking for something else. Some clue as to what was going on, and who this Sanchez was associated with.
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br>
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It
was relatively easy to ransack a room. But to go through it systematically, so that you were sure you searched the entire room took time. And Michael planned to take his time. Especially since he really had no idea what he was looking for. After going through
the room for nearly an hour, he sat on the edge of the bed somewhat frustrated. There had been nothing in the room that should not have been there. Nothing. That, in and of itself, was suspicious. Most people brought something with them that was “a piece of
home.” Something that made their quarters uniquely their own. But Sanchez had no such artifact.</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br>
</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It
was already pretty clear that Sanchez wasn’t the brightest of the bunch, but at this moment Michael could not figure the man out. He was stupid enough to leave that weapon in a place that was easily found. Surely that wasn’t everything. He opened the top drawer
of his bed side table again to find exactly what he had found before. Nothing. Then he opened the second drawer. It was then that he noticed something different. A small thing. The weight of the drawer was a little different.
</span></font></font></span></p>
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</span></font></font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font><font face="-webkit-standard" size="3"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Weston
kneeled in front of the table and and played with the drawers. They were definitely different. The top drawer was a little heavier. He pulled the contents of the drawer out. Again, nothing unusual. Then he tapped the bottom. It made a dull thud. He felt around
on the inside of the drawer and found a small thin tab. When he pulled the tab the bottom of the drawer pulled up. Simple, but
</span></font></font></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">ingenious. You wouldn’t have seen it if you hadn’t been looking. Under the false bottom of the drawer was a PADD.
</span></p>
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</span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Michael picked up the PADD and sat down on the edge of the bed again. When he tapped the screen it came to life, but it was locked. He didn’t want
to mess with attempting to unlock it right now. He had something that might help, but it would take time. Most likely there was a subprogram that would erase the information on the PADD if someone entered the wrong password. At least, that’s what he’d do.
This was not the work of Sanchez, but he was trusted with it. </span></p>
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</span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Hopefully somebody else has touched the device. He might be able to get some information off the device without getting into the programming. He
would need a little help. The only one he could think of that he trust was Quinna. He was going to have to involve her further, and he wasn’t happy about it. He picked up the PADD and left Sanchez’s quarters, heading to sickbay. It was late, but he had a feeling
that he would find Quinna there.</span></p>
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</span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">(reply none)</span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">(posted by Al Muir)</span></p>
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