A Ram among sheep

Posted on Tue Feb 6th, 2018 @ 4:46pm by Second Mate Quinton Beck & MERCHANT RANKS Fala Gaz (NPC) & Master Steward Othor Jaxz Ghost of the Second Star
Edited on on Fri Feb 9th, 2018 @ 12:32am

2,804 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: From Within...
Timeline: May 21st 0730

-Start-

{Second Star Airlock}

“Name? Thumb here. Wait. Good.”

This mantra could be heard all over the deck spoken by Falas hired stewards. They all had to come through her first, she had only signed off on the officers and engineers. Many of the deckhands were unlicensed but training cruises meant cheaper salary to pay. She stood with her people at the airlock and Othor and Talloc were a little bit farther on board screening them. Fala was comparing biometric and facial scanner data, but relied on Othor for his senses and sensibilities. As they were approved, Fala sent them over to the stewards for their briefing packets and orientation. It also let them put scrutiny to all who came aboard.

Talloc and Othor stood near the Airlock, scanning biometrics and faces in equal measure. Othor reached out his awareness to the trainees and deckhands emptying out onto the vessel. The usual suspects all of them. Some were more troubled than others but none of these were people with certain futures. But as he reached out to the living mass one next to him reached out with the same senses.

Othor was feeling a now unfamiliar sensation of another Betazoid, after all these years away from home.

Talloc, wearing the garb of ships security pointedly said, "Handprint here." He looked the grizzled human coming up to him dead in the face. He had no time for politeness, neither did the the crewman. As so many before the man did as he was told and moved down the line towards the docked ship.

Fala scrutinized as well, and saw Talloc blindly approving crewmembers. She felt her lip curl, thinking to herself, 'why have a damn telepath if he wasn't going to even try?'

Talloc saw Fala, her expression unreadable and said in the sam taciturn monotone, "What?"

Again, Fala felt her lip curl in derision at the mans tone.
"Talloc, you mean to say... What? ...Boss. Understand?"

Talloc was inscrutable, he tried to get the Ferengi's measure but her brain defied his talents. She seemed to be watching him very closely, a fact he was not able to hide how it bothered him.

"Yes. What? Boss." The sardonicism dripped with disdain coating his teeth in disregard.

"Your job is to weed out the unsavory or ill reputed, but your glazed expression tells me that isn't the case. This is a paying job you know."

Othor watched, keeping his finger on the pulse of the situation, but still taking bio-metrics and giving everyone a good once over. He too was curious about Talloc, the inscrutable Betazoid had avoided them on any kind of kinship attempts. What Fala asked was borderline offensive really, they could only use their senses for cursory estimation without being illegally intrusive. So far he seemed a bland sort, the type who waits in anticipation of life's glory, heedless of the life he lived or of the irony in its passing.

Outwardly he continued the check in "...

Talloc only gestured at one of the shuffling crewman, a Tellarite with sandy hair and a sallow skin tone.

"Mr. Rith-do is intent on buying off members of our crew to report to Orion intelligence. I am awaiting taking action to gain the measure of his scope and any contacts he may glean should also be immediately removed. I've so far ear marked two additional smugglers hoping I am sure to gain access to your secure hold and have security teams keeping tabs. My eyes may glaze, but it is because this banal action is far beneath my skills."

Fala took this with her usual disbelief, but tagged the man in her ocular uplink for later review anyway.
"Well, then I shouldnt expect any problems from the crew then. Be certain of that."

Othor trusted Fala, but he also trusted his own senses, and so his attention returned to Talloc. The man was deceiving them all, that was nearly certain, but about what?

Past Othor and Talloc, equipped with passes and credentials a few of the new crew found a space to chat casually near the sole turbo-lift servicing the airlock umbilical to the Second Star. One of them was a younger woman, dressed in navy blue and Burgundy tones, with stylish and short raven-dark hair and stark features. She had come on board with several others under a false identity, slipped past the telepaths with ease. She knew Betazoids were as often a weakness in many security outfits, they created a false sense of security. Careful to keep their voices down, one of the gathering people whispered to the woman,

"Roh, they got Richin, Zora, and P'usan. The tags were fine, it was that one..." He gestured at Othor, "He had a hunch and just rejected their papers."

Roh swore to herself, three of her eight people she had tried to plant ahead of time never made it. Starfleet was explicit in their request to maintain secrecy, but there was no way to install their mission components without those three, they were her actual engineers, everyone else was a glorified field sapper.

"It's okay Hat, I'll get some orders souped up as a smokescreen and we can slip our tech in while they are busy."

"You'll have to step out to do that." The implication was that she would have to say who she was and lose her element of control.

"It was bound to happen, and we need real engineers for some of this work which sadly..." Hat smiled at her, and another large man sidled close.

"Roh... We are in good shape, Starfleet is refitting our mission vehicle, we just have to get the marines past their telepaths."

Roh understood, "Leave that to me, I need to get Engineering to sign off on the cover op first, then I'll worry about getting us officially hired." Roh furrowed her brow in mock disgust as she whispered, " Stop standing so close we don't know each other." She then acted like one of the men gave her unwanted attention and she moved away naturally.

She saw Othor peek at her when she did, something about her motion had managed to catch his suspicious gaze. He was going to be difficult to handle, but she enjoyed a challenge.

*****

{Engineering- Jefferies tube EPS main juncture}

His work occupied him, their disembarkation was a week away but a months worth of works still to do kept him hammering. Hopefully another delay would be imposed by the courts. He didn't share that opinion though. The ship was being stripped of proprietary parts Starfleet was being petty enough to recall. The amount of stress and cost of replacements added to a bill large enough to keep this ship under the thumb of Starfleet, but that was again another opinion he kept to himself.

He enjoyed working on this ship, it seemed to repel grime, and everywhere he had his people srape, it left a clean gleaming duranium finish. The satisfaction was palpable, and he took pride in the restoration of a century old starship and seeing the sparkle like it was day one. He whistled lightly to himself remounting sconce covers to the EPS access point when a stammering and fearful dissappointment of a man came to fetch him nonetheless,

"Chief Callahan, there's... people here for you."

Dirty, tired, and busy, he cursed under his breath before squeezing from the cramped access tube.
"Who?" He didnt bother to mask his annoyance.

After a moment of hesitation he said, "A group of six, they say they are the ships security detail and need to begin right away."

Chris had no clue what that meant. "Begin what?"

"They didn't say."

"Did you ask?"

The poor guy actually shook his head for now rather than saying it, his timid nature was not earning him favors. Chris rolled his eyes and clambered haphazardly all the way out of the tube. He walked past the useless man only to turn the corner and stop cold himself. Her shape was shapely, but her eyes told a story. It looked like a scary one too. Her Starfleet uniform wasnt worn so much as stretched across her frame, and the modified type II phaser was meant for Borg action. This woman was ready for war, in a place far from it.

Chris walked over to her with his hand extended, this was still his engine room.

"Chief Callahan, and you?"

Offering the padd she held, he took it listening to her lie, "Sheila Rohbards, We are the hired outfit- We need access to ships systems. This is a requisitions-"

He stopped her with a raised hand,reading it for himself. A moment and he whisked his yes at her, "Put it through the channels, I only follow work orders signed by one officer, Captain Quinton Beck."

"I've already been hired, these are necessary-"

"I was at the meeting when Starfleet listed what was necessary."

"These are viable requests authorized by starbase personnel-"

Christopher was no fool, he knew a rinse job when he saw one, he stopped her again proving he had read the document in full.

"You're wanting to, no... I see you are already outfitting the ship like we are going to get boarded and actually put up a fight. You think I don't know how to tell a replicator from a weapon fabricator? Tell Starfleet we aren't a troop carrier."

"Starfleet enabled us, we only intend to have these facilities in the the event of ferrying personnel and materials deemed critical to the success of Federation Imperatives. Otherwise we seek our own fortune-"

"Who are you trying to convince Starfleet?"

Sheila was annoyed, "We are just a merc outfit, not Starfleet. Proper facilities are vital to our operations, and we are expected to work in places that may pose a danger to the ship."

"My training is the opposite when it comes to combat, mine is to keep the engines running so we can escape but hey I do what I am told... only up to a point. I'm no damn soldier, I don't take orders, I don't bravely die so others go on... We aren't supposed to fight if we get boarded."

"Starfleet cant have this vessel taken, you wouldn't need operators or techs for our systems, we supply them-"

Chris showed her the padd he held now.
"Your superiors have made us remove anything of Starfleet caliber, and forced us to buy an equivalent and inferior replacement. Stripping and dismantling everything we are apparently beyond debt and into Racketeering at this point while I'm given fuck all to work with!"

Chris pointed to a straight up hole in the wall. The previous owner had tired of walking around a corner and opted to blast a straight line walk. With good timing the lights dimmed as well.

..."Even our EPS grid is a decade old and recycled from other ships. We are using civilian market parts, and then you want to..."

He clicked his fingers at her, pointing at her padd, she held it up for him and he grabbed it.

..."Install your own independent power grid? Run dedicated command and data lines to the central computer you'll also be installing which will drain half my power plants capacity? You see my issues with this arrangement?"

"It is only to secure mission success when critically important, and again, you wouldn't need operators or techs we supply them, we will also supply our own power-"

"THAT is a problem for me. We have one warp core, and its small, meant for an 8th this size of ship. but its still a warp reactor. You plan on putting another warp reactor that isnt part of the daisy chain assembly they will destructively interfere.

"Starfleet is running vessels like the Ascendant class with Four cores now, we can harmonize them."

"How cool. This ships spatial geometry is Bi-nacelled, fed into a central trunk for power distribution from a large Reactor. Our Microdyne set up is jury rigged, at 120% of its performance on a good day. No M/AMA reactor will fit safely without gutting the Engineering hull and rebuilding the whole damn ship so I know you plan on pulling off our power grid."

"We have the authorization to proceed, we only include you out of necessity for the process."

Chris laughed, "Then what the hell are you wasting my time for Starfleet?"

Sheila let her shoulders drop, "I'm not asking permission, but I require your assistance." Her tone suggested more.

Chris was already done with this conversation, he would report to Beck the moment she left. She would do what she wanted to do.

He shook his head in feigned non chalance, "Alright, I'm shorthanded as it is and we got three days to launch, there's a list longer than my arm to do that has actually been vetted and approved, like filtered air in over a dozen decks... Look if you got your own techs, knock yourself out. "

Sheila Rohbards was quite happy to do that. She spoke to her communicator, "You heard the man, pick an area and start."

Chris realized he needed to get this to the Captain right away. He didnt like this one bit.

{Bridge- Ready Room}

Fala sat in the better chair of the two recounting their expenses, she looked to Quinton Beck and sighed deeply. As bad as that was, the next part was worse.

There would be no easy way to get rid of Talloc, Starfleet planted a Regular badass to make sure they didn't run off with the ship making mischief. Toriza was the Orion Synidciate already getting at them, Starfleet had lost the legal battle but still issuing injunctions for further delays on the launch.

They may not be so quick to find out the next threat, which unbeknownst to them until now was a Sheila Rohbards. She was covertly taking over a large portion of the engineering Hull, what wasn't cargo bays and collapsed Decks, had now become a mobile barracks for what was clearly a black ops team. A report from Christopher Callahan had alerted them to the unauthorized work only moments ago.

The wolf wasn't at the door so much as already inside. Starfleet had armed people on board.

Fala stared at Quinton, knowing he was likely the only person who could keep this chaos in a functional harmony. Beck lived for the edge of excitement that came from putting unknowns together. Even now, playing one threat off against another and profiting off the outcome.

She was alone with Quinton and daunted at the enormity of it all. She was very much a self motivated individual but Quinton had the ability to shoulder any burden without faltering under its weight. She needed that of him now.

"...Talloc is here to stay, his background is 90% true and sorting the false data Starfleet Security planted to sweeten the pot will take time. Toriza signed the documents, she owns sixteen percent of the ships portfolio and her monthly stipend is exorbitant. It's... inevitable Starfleet would think to garrison a presence with us, we accepted legal help from the Veterans council of the Rigelian Freighter Association, we get to carry soldiers and war materials as repayment...."

Quinton listened intently, "There's more isn't there, now isnt the time to hold back?"

Fala hated the grin, how dare he not be afraid! What kind of fool grins at this litany of misery?"

"Why are we putting ourselves through this? Why play these games, let Starfleet plant their man, let the Orions take a share of our prize? Starfleet outfits us to ferry troops and spies and we allow it? Isn't this the restrictive lifestyle you left Starfleet for?"

Quinton set his hand on her arm gently,
"Because what's out there is worse, and we can prepare ourselves and stock ourselves, but when it comes down to the thing we need most... it's people Fala. We gotta have people who can act on their own, we gotta have operators. You see two threats to our goals, I see two means to an end. Pass the requisitions form over there please."

She appreciated the mans audacity, and maybe he was right. It would take a miracle to get out of this Starbase, but miracles were a dime a dozen. It was work, it was hard ass work that got them to this point. Blood, sweat, and sacrifice, would see the wolf become their protector.

What was out there was worse, the people they were with may start with a different purpose but in this journey they would find common enough ground. Fala had hoped for Quinton to give them another way out. Where only two paths had presented, fight or flight, a third option, tame, now presented.

-End-

Austen

Stephen

Shane

 

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