Swamped

The meeting wasn't going well last you checked in. You thought it was going to be warning everyone about the mutineers, and maybe that happened while you slipped out, but it sure seemed like a lot of it was Razor blasting various officers for their incompetence over the last week or so.

Normally you'd have expected Claws to tell him to stuff it and get to the point. But she wasn't. She was just hanging back and watching. You can't recall any other time when she's let Razor do the talking without any comment at all.

So between the fact that you'd rather not be there, and the fact that apparently whatever's going on is important enough for Claws to stay quiet, you figure you're better off not interrupting them until you know exactly what you're reporting. Which means paying a visit to the prisoner.

"Eh, the meeting can wait a little longer," you shrug. "Come on, let's head to the cells."

"Does that include me?" Quill asks, a bit nervous. "I was rather hoping to spend tonight watching the storeroom, working on my script..."

"Nah, this'll be fine. We don't even need to bother Locks about questioning, there's nothing I'm gonna say that I mind anyone overhearing. So we can just head straight for the cells."

"That's good," Quill says. He sounds relieved. "She seemed in quite the foul mood tonight, and she's usually not fond of late-night interrogation requests to begin with."

That was the plan, anyhow. But when you arrive at the cells, you find Shorty on guard duty.

"What are you doing here?"

"Half our squad's gone missing, so we can't really do our regular duties. And Crook's being disciplined for something-or-other, so I volunteered to take his guard duty spot. At least until the boss turns up again."

"Well, I want to have a quick talk with Dean. Nothing major, just want to have the Bogknights' animal expert look at something I found. I can do it right outside his cell, no problem."

"You can't right now," he says. "He just got taken for interrogation."

"What? By who?"