local time: 30 october 2022. 12:55 location: city center. leoran market. Upon the orders of a compromised General Laeponia Indso, Lieutenant General Prosis has assumed command of active Starfleet personnel. Working in conjunction with the Leoran Elders, primarily Hunter Alen Valnan, Starfleet soldiers and Leoran Hunters who have not been affected by Dorian have surrounded the Leoran Market to prevent citizens from coming or going. Misa returned with a few other young hunters and they began helping you spread word to the vendors to stop handing out food. Eventually, the festival grinds to a halt and those who have not been dosed with Dorian are beginning to notice the change that has overcome their friends and families. Gloria Gallo arrives with the rest of the Sotiris council, many of them dressed in robes that indicate they were in meditative practice. The situation is contained, per your earlier orders, and Gloria gives you a stiff nod of approval as she’s given a run-down of the actions taken thus far. Turning on her implant, she uses a personal recording device to broadcast a statement to all Leorans currently inside the market, “Good afternoon Sotiris, this is Gloria Gallo. Please remain calm and stay inside the market for now; an individual has spiked several of the stalls with a Collective drug known as Dorian. There may be some visual hallucinations that look like the brushstrokes of a painting, I’m told, but none of you are in any danger. Please find a seat and relax while the Hunters and the Starfleet conduct their investigation. Just please, don’t ingest anything.” Gloria’s words are slow and deliberate, her deep voice nuanced with years of struggling against a stutter as she smiles calmly towards the camera. As this broadcast was also sent out to the tablets the council gave out to all Collective members, there were enough scattered throughout the market that her words have been heard by all.
Things to note:
Your decision to bring the other councilors out of sealed meditation positively impacted the civilian response to the situation. Gloria is well-known and well-respected and has long been the face of the local council. Her personal recording device also allowed the council to reach out to those affected with a visual recording that showcased a unified Leoran council, key members of Starfleet, and elders from the Hunter’s warren.
Gloria Gallo is infuriated something like this has happened. She blames Starfleet’s inability to keep Collective drugs off Leora and will use this incident as an example as to why all Collective drugs should be banned. However, she is pleased you sought out the rest of the council rather than make all the decisions yourself. She has apologized to your aide for snapping at them and will give greater weight to your arguments in the upcoming council meeting to decide whether or not to allow some drugs onto Leora for medicinal research or to appease Collective citizens.
Alen Valnan and Lieutenant General Prosis are leading the investigation. They have identified eight stalls that have been spiked, two in every cardinal direction. Stall owners report not having seen anything suspicious, but having been preoccupied all day trying to keep up with demand. Stall owners are distressed their food and wine items have caused incident, and do not want their names or stalls released to the public, fearing a negative impact on their reputations.
After an hour and a half, the markets are re-opened. Stalls that have not been spiked are free to serve again, and citizens are welcome to come and go as they please. Those that have been dosed with Dorian are encouraged to spend the night with someone sober as a safety precaution, though it is not required. Those who wish for a sober buddy but do not have anyone to reach out to may spend time in the hospital until they sober up themselves.
The wind shifted and sent a cooling breeze over Councilor Thevar and the Unsouled she was crouched next to. He downed the water she’d fetched him, and she smiled as he shyly asked for assistance getting to the hospital. “I don’t trust myself on the train.” He’d said, the mildly shamed look in his eyes telling her that he had few other options of safely making it home.
She nodded and helped him up, politely ignoring the dreamy way he swung his head around. She’ll admit to a small part of her that wondered what it was that he was really seeing. The smiles most of those intoxicated wore were.. intriguing, to say the least. She assisted the man to where a small group of singles waited for the jointly provided transportation to the hospital, leaving him leaning against a straight-faced Starfleet officer.
The wind caught her again as she turned away, and this time she pulled the thin jacket on her shoulders tighter around her; the lines of fuchsia and navy disrupted by the movement. Laughter drew her attention, and she turned to see a sweet couple giggling and hanging on each other-- though whether they were under the affects of dorian or simply sickeningly in love, she wasn’t sure. Though maybe, a jealous voice offered in her mind, it was both.
But she didn’t have time to check on them or give any acknowledgement to the usually stiff string tugging at her heart, before a familiar sound rumbled low across the boardwalk.
Though she couldn’t make out her words, she knew the tone well. The red-hot anger, the steely bite coating Gloria’s raspy voice. The way the elder woman seemed to grow an extra two feet just so that she could have better leverage as she verbally punch down. Someone was getting the lashing that she’d known would come. Well-- multiple someone’s. But strangely, not her. She’d been spared the ire and the sour expression that she’d been dreading when she made the decision to interrupt the rest of the council.
Instead, she’d been given... respect? Appreciation, maybe. A united seal of approval from not just Gloria Gallo, but the council as a whole. A feat that seemed surprisingly rare-- though maybe not so surprising, given how many different minds there were to consider. A feat that Amala couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t have earned if she’d taken even just a single sip from that beautiful drink she’d abandoned once Misa had appeared.
Alen had confirmed himself that it’d come from one of the dosed stalls. The tender woman that had poured it for her had admitted that the drink wasn’t meant to shimmer in the light like it had, her voice laden with so much guilt that Amala had felt compelled to reassure her more than once that no blame would come from her. And promised, though she knew better, that the names and faces of those who tended the dosed stalls would be kept private.
Amala sighed, long and deep, the sound tinged with sadness as she looked around the thinning space. Decisions would have to be made next. There could be no more stalling, no more waiting. Not after this. But, she thought as her eyes drifted back to the makeshift shelter, where inside remained a single patient. Not this night.
Those decisions could wait until tomorrow.