Getting Ready to Ship Out

Posted on Tue Apr 21st, 2020 @ 8:53am by Second Mate Quinton Beck & Second Mate Simon Starr & Second Mate Colleen Branagan & Master Steward Othor Jaxz Ghost of the Second Star

2,440 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...
Location: SB 214, Station Bar

-Start
{Starbase 214- Lounge)

Simon was sitting in the station's bar, fiddling with a drink. Three days ago, he arrested his boss. He had only worked with Talloc for a few weeks, but he couldn't believe he was working for someone who was working against the crew of the ship.

Taking a sip of his drink, he looked around the bar. He had heard the Second Star were getting new crew aboard and he wanted to at least get a look at them before they headed out.

Picking up his drink once more, he began to mingle and make his way around the bar, hearing congratulations of his new position. That they should celebrate his promotion. All he could think about was that this promotion was not exactly one he felt like celebrating. He gave the odd tip of the glass to any who interacted with him, but didn't really engage further than that. Most of the Second Star crew were used to that. If Simon didn't speak it probably meant he didn't want to penalize you for something. Those from other crews were a little taken aback by the cold nature of Simon, as those that overheard and passed on celebrations received no more than an unsatisfying grunt.

Branagan watched the man drifting through the bar, talking to people here in there. He carried himself with the rigidity of someone always on watch. Finally, he sat, and she contemplated going over to join him, but then her attention was snagged by a second man who approached the one she watched. He carried a feeling of command, but not one used to it. Though they spoke, Colleen was too far away to hear the words.

"Hi, Simon? Care if I join you?"

Standing akimbo, in a sort of "at ease pose", Quinton tried not to look awkward which only amplified the feeling. This was necessary though, for all wonders of being a free man his command style relied on a kinship. He wasn't a military commander. He had to get to know Simon if he could expect to command the man. So far he had proven himself solid, and had only shown loyalty, and that was as good a first step as any.

Simon looked up and saw the Captain, he had already had to use him as bait once, and that wasn't normal. But it ended up in the stopping of at least one plot on the Second Star. The least he could offer was a seat. "Of course, Captain," he said simply, taking another sip of his drink.

Though he had a hard exterior, when it came to seniority, it was obvious that Simon respected it. He said what was necessary, but was a man of few words. He gestured to an empty chair at the table to welcome Quinton to join him as he took another sip.

Deciding it was best to push through it and get it done Quinton took the seat while offering, "They use currency out this far, one of the reasons I like it out here. Let me buy this round, whatever you're having." Quinton gestured at the barkeep, who understood the language of waggling fingers, bringing over two more tumblers of the precious liquid.

"So do the Ferengi," Simon responded to the captain. If he was saying it as a joke, it wasn't obvious. "Thank you, captain," he responded as he gestured to the barkeep. He drunk it quietly, after arresting his own boss. "Starfleet do like keeping their fingers in things don't they," he said off-hand to Quinton.

He didn't mean to snort, but the chuckle met his throat while he swallowed the bourbon, some synthehol blend he thought tasted like cleaning fluids. He should have realized, a lawman wouldn't be getting casually wasted in the middle of the day. Simon was a card, he said what was needed, and solid as could be expected. Deciding to return the favor, he matched tone.

"They do, insidious isn't it, how gently they grip at first. Thanks to you, they had the door slammed on some of those fingers, won't be too long before they pry their way back in. We all owe you, Starfleet would have rewarded you handsomely if you had helped Talloc make a case against us."

"I thought the whole merchant thing was their idea, I thought they wanted our help originally. So they decide to spy on us. I left Starfleet for that very reason. They want to hold onto things too tightly," Simon responded. He was told that this was still Starfleet's idea, to get places they couldn't to open trade routes. Yet they wanted to endanger all of that by sending their officers into places they were not welcome.

"Starfleet can be hasty sometimes," Simon said coldly. "They could have started a war," he said with concern, the first time he had ever done so.

Quinton remarked silently to himself, 'They did.'

Outwardly he kept it light hearted, starting a toast and tipping his glass, "We are still here, largely thanks to you. Onwards to greener pastures, may the road rise to meet our feet, and fuck those redshirts over at Starfleet."

The two men talked as they sat together, and Colleen moved restlessly. She wasn't entirely sure why she wasn't back on her farm. Why had she come back to space? When relationships exploded on Gemini, and she'd left Starfleet, she'd sworn she'd never be back out here. But here she was, and she needed a job. The men she watched had one. They needed a science officer. Though she supposed they didn't call it that.

Making a decision, she picked up her half-empty glass of water and stepped around two tables and a group chatting as they blocked one pathway through others. Approaching the men, she said, "You're on that reclaimed ship, aren't you? Second Star?"

Simon looked towards the captain with a look of interest before looking toward the woman who joined them. The way she walked and composed herself gave her past away. He looked silently toward Quentin and gave him a look. For some reason there were spies claiming to be Federation on the ship, and so he was still cautious from what happened.

If Quinton had any emotions or thoughts, they didn't show on an inscrutable demeanor. He was good at the sangfroid portion of his job. He was friendly in his open gaze, making sure she felt welcome to continue while saying nothing.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm butting in ... well, you probably do, but ..." she stopped, took a breath and started over. "Look, I need a job, and I heard you need crew. My name's Colleen Branagan, and once upon a time, I was a Chief Science Officer on a few Starfleet ships. Then I was ... a farmer for a while. And now I'm looking for a job. I can still be a scientist, or I can grow your vegetables, I'm not picky. So ... whattaya say? Can we talk?"

Quinton appreciated her earnest nature, it was bad spywork and a good omen for her. This worked out very well, which of course made it suspicious. Truth be told, they needed a scientist on board to complete their registry criteria, and Bas Klayton was undercover in hiding. He paid people to take care of background checks and approvals, so for here and now he decided to take her at her word.

"Thanks for introducing yourself, Colleen, and sure thing let's have you put in an application. For right now though... what'll you have? On me, I am a famous business owner after all." He applied a gentle, honest smile to the blank face expression he wore.

"Oh, maybe some orange juice and soda?" Branagan took a chair at the table. She didn't want to ask too many questions, but she had no idea where to get an application. It wasn't as if the ship had an office on the base, and it wasn't Starfleet. That was a good thing. Both men appeared ... trustworthy? Yes, that was a good term. But were they? Colleen had better decide quickly, since she'd just asked to throw in her lot with them!

"So, you're looking for work?" Simon asked. The first time he had spoke since Colleen arrived. "What can you do?" he asked. He knew she was going to make an application, and could almost smell the Starfleet on her.

A Deltan with a gorgeous flowing green dress floated to their table to deliver her drink. Her attire was purely for parting fools with their money, and had tapestry in the architectures involved. She was a mobile canvas with beauty on display.

Neither set of eyes left Colleen, she sat in a hotseat, and handled it well.

"Pretty much anything you need," Colleen answered with pride. "My background is Starfleet, and whatever I think about working for them now, I had excellent training from the Academy right on through my superior officers on every ship where I served."

She paused to take a sip of her spritzer. "If you need an astrogator, I can be that. If you need someone to keep you on course, call on me. If you need a sickness isolated, I am capable of that, as well. My particular area of interest is life sciences ... biology, plant and animal life, but astronomy, mechanics of the universe, physics ... it's all in my background. So what do you need me to be?" Branagan split her glance between the two men, and waited like a prisoner in dock. Her funds were running out, and she needed a job.

Quinton admitted, he found her offer compelling. Fala and Toriza would find out anything worth knowing in short order, and they needed good people. He found it curious how many Starfleet officers were coming his way, as though he offered something with this life that was preferable to the spit and polish.

He nodded before replying, taking a moment to consider, "I'll admit, there's caution in my sense of reasoning on whether to take you at face value or not. However, I'm an easy mark, always been said about me, comes with trusting folks just a little bit. I have people who help with that and make sure my trusting nature isn't used against me. So, let's meet over a table and review the needs of the ship, see what you can do."

Simon just continued looking towards the science officer. He made a note to get a copy of her transfer papers, should the captain agree, and check her own experience with Starfleet and whether it would make him suspicious. For now, he held judgment. "The last person who did that is now in a penal colony," is the first thing the figure says. His tone cold, almost Vulcan-like, and sharp. "Starr, Chief of Security," he said, adding no more.

"Well nice to meet you, Mr. Starr," Colleen said with a grin. She held out her hand to shake, if he'd a mind to, but he didn't take her up on it. "Your attitude tells me you are a suspicious son of a gun, and that doesn't bother me a bit. Research my background all you want. My life is an open book, and I'm exactly who I say I am."

She switched her look to the captain. "You're a little nicer on the surface," she said, "but there's a steely bit of suspicion at your core, too. Like I said, I don't mind. I can give you references, or you can use your own methods to research my background, whatever makes you happy. I believe in strict honesty, and you can count on me never to lie to you. You might not like what I have to say, but it will always be the truth ... or I'll tell you I don't know."

He liked her, it was probably infectious too. He trusted his people to vet, and pressed on the personal tack.

"Ohh, so we are calling out personal stories then? Let me guess with you." Quinton intended to joke but found her expression was warding him off. He read her anyway, but kept it light an fun.

"You don't see your family often enough, you were not challenged in Starfleet, well that's basic... but also, you never got to do that exploring thing you were told would happen in the Fleet. How is that?"

She gave him a half smile. "Not completely off base, but not right on, either. I actually did get to see a lot of parts of the quadrant with Starfleet. But there are a lot of ... hmm, how do I put this?" She thought a moment. "Really, sometimes you just have to call a spade a spade, or a jerk a jerk. There's no other term for it.

"So a lot of my challenges in Starfleet were not in my field but with finding ways to solve problems in spite of those who wanted to stand in the way and be part of the difficulties. Otherwise, ... yes, you're probably right," Colleen reflected.

There was a lull in conversation, but Quinton took the opportunity to volunteer information to help ease her mind.

"Both my parents were in Starfleet, my dad left for the Maquis, so did my mom. I have a bitter pill stuck in my throat, you could say. Part of what makes this whole endeavor so satisfying is thumbing our nose at Starfleet. I don't know how much rumor has gotten out but we have dealt with all kinds of opposition from the Feds. Please pardon me if you detect any disdain for Starfleet, as I don't intend anything personally."

Simon, who had been quiet all this time, spoke with a British accent, though there was a coldness to his tone. "They always want to do it their way, even if another way makes more sense," was the only comment he made. He then took a sip of his drink. He turned to the captain and nodded. It seemed that Colleen had a similar story to tell to his, so decided to listen.

Colleen picked up her drink and held it out. "To three who scorn the vaunted fleet," she said.

Quinton took the toast with a smile, "Here here, to the Second Star!"

Simon also took the toast, tilting his glass up slightly as Colleen made the comment she did. He didn't see anything yet, and he thought she might just well fit in with the rest of the crew

-End-

Quinton Beck
CO

Simon Starr
(CoS)

Colleen Branagan
(Job Applicant)

 

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