Legalities of Blood and Spirit

Posted on Fri Dec 9th, 2016 @ 4:00pm by Second Mate Quinton Beck & MERCHANT RANKS Fala Gaz (NPC)
Edited on on Sun Mar 26th, 2017 @ 12:23am

7,429 words; about a 37 minute read

Mission: A good start...
Location: Orbit of Beta Ro faciltiy
Timeline: May 20th 0915 2393

-Start-


{Second Star- Bridge}


Vicente read his console from the back of the bridge in excited tones, the lad had endured much but was in the lap of an adventure so they allowed it. They had rehearsed the maneuver with the Rampart, but the tension was still palpable. Only their trust in the honorable word of N’Tach made them dare to try this.


“Rampart engaging tractor beam; Locked. Engaging Microdyne Warp Core; Engaged at only 81 percent? Hey Akio… What do you recommend?”


Beck listened in, and Kas also moved to Vicente's station to confirm. The tiny core from the Aerowing couldn't make light speed on its own but they had a good chance of using it to maintain an active warp field. Along with other systems like the warp impeller to maintain a low warp speed. Their stalling was needed in order to gather crew and such at the other end, but too long meant they would be dead in the water. They had little fuel and were running an engine on a vessel many times past its usual tonnage


=0= I have throttled the core to 81 of normal, we can always adjust upwards but cannot risk burning out the step reduction manifold, we have no replacement. There should be sufficient warpfield strata for the maneuver.


Kas used the OPS station with Vicente standing in its operation, she interjected, “Should?”


Akio sounded offended when he brusquely retorted,
=0= Peggy ran over ten million simulations to determine the optimal exchange. But there are no certainties when breaking space and time.


Quinton couldn't help himself, the devil resided in his impish grin.
“Of course Kas, just breaking space and time what are you so worried about?”


Kas replied a touch too fast, her answer falling from her lips with a practiced ease
“Endless days of miserable crawling, stalling, no forward progress, we’ve all gotten to the point if it is meant to blow up just do it already. Full speed ahead at your word N’tach.”


N’Tach had determined the Second Star could use the Warp retainer in the Saucer Section to maintain Warp 2 or just short of it at least. Needing only a warp core, they salvaged the former vessels, pulling parts and the micro-warp core out of the Aerowing. The final result had finally seen warp drive restored, but at an appalling .85 warp factor. They lacked a fuel reserve as they also lacked fuel tanks, limited to what was in the Aerowing.


His ebon voice spilled from tinny speakers, “Have faith in your forebears, they built a sturdy vessel. We should not explode for at least a moment.”


The gallows humor was certainly a delight but Beck felt it necessary to speak up, “Oh, everyone has jokes now, but are we working to actually make sure that doesn't happen, knock on some damn wood already.”


=0= Knocking sir.
Othor was being a smart ass via comm, piping in out of nowhere. He swore he stayed out of the crew's thoughts but these little moments only proved that a lie.


N’tach held a voice as steady as ever, “Deuterium lines are holding, but we have five days at most with the most generous conservation.”


Beck waved him off, “Fala’s recovery team will be here-” He again remembered something Fala had told him, this was still a crime scene, and there was no way the Rampart would allow a resupply. Time was now a precious commodity for if they ran out of fuel they would lose power and then need to be rescued, ruining any hope of staying on board. Stalling allowed Fala to make secret communiques and gather her legal teams, but it was a fine line they walked. The Rampart had no choice but to watch and gently nudge as the Second Star slowly limped its way up to speed.


Slight shuddering rocked the bridge, and everyone was silent.
“Warp field stable, I think, what’s that?”


The ship leveled after a moment, shakedown being a term used all too accurately. Kas didn't answer, she simply looked at his readouts and shrugged. Quinton didn't take to her lack of care with much empathy, he shot her a glare basically telling her to do her damn job.


If Kas cared at all, it didnt show. She shrugged again, “Seems fine, just shifting in the welds.”


Quinton glared, “That’s not how welds work Kas.”


Her tone grew a deadly menace, their verbal spar was toeing the line. “I’ll let you know what I find out. Captain.”


{Observation Lounge/Fala’s office}


The entirety of the Observation Lounge had become her coven of legal witchcraft and economic ribaldry. When one entered it, the thought was not of an observation lounge with long tables and chairs for meetings, but of an oversized office for an undersized tyrant. The walls held shelves already burdened with the weight of numerous data cores and holo matrices running simulations for untold purposes. Sconces for plants had been recycled to become power outlets for screens, and devices all uplinked to her computer padd. The chairs remained along one side of the table, facing the opposing wall, Fala had hers boosted in the seat.


Where one set of floor to ceiling windows provided the unparelleled majesty of space, Fala sat with her back to it and face the opposing contrast wall. Littered with appropriated screens and feeding her financial data, sector market news, and any datastream she needed on constant flashing marches which would drive most of the crew insane in minutes. It was music to her her, the talking heads, like a gentle woodwind, the tic and meter of the index gains and losses a percussion. She listened to two Quadrants worth of information blaring from a hundred tiny speakers and not one bit of it was lost on her.


She spoke to several of the screens, not indicating any one as she spat out,
“Then their JAG will need to file a separate clause outlining that addendum. They can put ink on paper if they want to test the water no free reactions. This vessel was not in any catalogue, and it is the burden of their office to prove otherwise.”


One screen had a fearsome looking Klingon centered prominently as he calmly spoke alongside the former speaker, “The K’voth was an isolated incident, and the warriors who found her rejoined the Empire months later.”
Fala fired at him, “Irrelevant, the K’voth operated independently did it not? I’m paying for data not opinions.”
The Klingon seemed abashed, “Yes, they did. I’ll forward the casefiles now.


Fala focused on one man, in a small screen below the others. “Your Network is compromised d’Rrg, Starfleet is listening oh for the love of-” She stabbed the screen with her clawed finger and he dropped off the imager.


Fala recounted on her fingers to help remember her points,
“We need to have crew and personnel flood the ship the moment we hit drydock, Temmens will work up a Job application for the required roles, you have to make sure they are there the moment we hit airlock seal!”


Temmens had to yell over her to reply, “They’ve issued a harbor citation for loitering to the waiting crew-
Fala waved him off, “They are testing the waters, we need to fire a warning shot right through their leg. Prepare a writ of Cid Hel, and inform the Presidential Office in Paris that Federation workers are being maligned by port authority.”
“Strong warning shot, you sure-” She snapped at him in a hiss and he stopped.


Fala stood up to pace in her war room apparel, the long robes and clattering chains iconic to the ageless accountants before her. She continued to shout, mostly talking to herself but also making damn sure the house of cards she had been building wouldn't get blown over because one of her agents didnt have a complete set of details.


“...They will try to deny our salvage claims, those briefs are just waiting to be filed, they will try to trump up criminal charges, but Othor has a confession on record, Tasco will confess… They will try to claim primacy like they own the branding, that will be the hardest to defend against, we are undeniably a starfleet vessel, the K’voth however will likely give us precedent for at least the repairs done to make this place viable giving us grounding.”


=0= Fala, Rampart is ready to engage the tractor beam.
She smiled at how Beck told her these things. His knowledge of legal matters incomplete, she often wondered how he survived so long without having been totally cheated.


=0= Yes, make sure we experience no interruption of power, the lowest warp we can attain will serve our purposes more than theirs so throttle it back. We want to arrive at the least second, there are things to be done first.”


{Starbase 214}


When the newly re-christened "Second Star" made Drydock it was under their own power, a major legal point for her legal teams. The Rampart however insisted on the escort all the way into the maw of the starbase. N'tach had since returned to the Rampart, and tractor beam or no they were trapped, totally under the control of Starfleet on course to imprisonment within an astonishing structure. The Starbase was beyond big, the bay doors slid open into quartered panels, each one ten times the mass of their little ship. They could only have faith in the Klingon Officers word when he said they would not be arrested.


The Rampart escorted them unnecessarily close to the Starbase, a bully tactic to intimidate them. It worked mildly, Beck felt the pressure on his collar from the moment the doors began to open. Dozens of Starfleet vessels flew around them, escorts to cruisers, and the buzz of activity made them feel very small indeed. The Federation had grown since the days of the Dominion War, nearly two hundred and thirty worlds, protectorates, and now DMZ sectors of Cardassian space. Monolithic was a good word, but it didnt fully describe the depth of what this beast was becoming.


Ennobled by the Prime Directive, and justified under its own charter the Federation was always at war in one area or another. It was massive, as large as many of the fallen empires of the past. They had tamed the Klingons, saved the Romulans, thumbed their nose at the Borg, but in the process so many had died, so many had been lost. The moral majority which was the Federation empowered itself, but where did the individuals dreams and desires factor in? When did one stop serving the greater good if it starved them of their dreams?


The Starbase loomed, and the Second Star steered directly into it.


{Second Star-Bridge}




“We still have ruptures venting fire and atmosphere, Exocomps are overworked, so I’ll be in the bowels of the ship if you need me… is that Starbase 214?”
Kas was always at work, and piped in, standing from beside his seat. That Kas was so hurt from her loss and still functioning staggered him, the depth of emotion he felt for her grew. He nodded as he took the chair, he had to give a small laugh at the image of the purple pastel monitor removed from Engineering and stuck haphazardly again in the fore of the bridge.


“Yes, the web is woven and ready, we are doomed individuals in less than fifteen minutes.”
His humor belied the confidence he held in their chances, he knew it would be a fight but he had to make it work.


Sitting on the newly opened and operational bridge made them all feel a measure of true ownership, the more effort and work they put into the it, the better it looked, and the less it seemed like anything other than home. Othor had taken the far left seat, with Fala on the far right. Beck realized he had more or less set up his bridge as Starfleet would have, except Kas refused to sit down while on duty. Though they piloted the vessel, it was ominous to enter the maw, they had no choice. Entering at thruster speed was slow and each crawling second dragged after the next.


Judah took the data from stardock flight control and maneuvered them to the umbilical which awaited them. Gentle pulses, impossibly timed and calibrated saw the injured vessel somehow line up gracefully. Local systems fired to life at full capacity as the umbilical attachment flooded power into the ship. Workbees immediately descended onto the outer hull, putting out the fires that lit from the surges of power and sealing venting holes.


Beck addressed the whole crew,
=0= Time to play the hand we were dealt. Fala, be ready at the docking port.


The off whites and carbon stains from half a century of use made the ship seem filthy in contrast. All around them a gentle white pulsing reminiscent to Beck of sterility and limitless energy. He hated how clean the place was, and how it reminded him of the dirt and grime that was his life.


Othor had a different take, after meeting N'tach they had come to an understanding, and no Starbase could match what was coming. N’tach had told him, “Starfleet has acted dishonorably, and I will make sure you are not held to blame for a traitor's actions.” Starfleet probably felt certain to their claim, but he couldn't wait to see their faces when Fala was done with them. Between the two of them, Othor knew they would fly out of this one intact.


He leaned to Beck and whispered, "Don't forget the aces up our sleeves."


{Docking port- Second Star}


“I’m glad it’s the Federation saving us, the simple cost of refueling even this quaint starship would impound us anywhere else.” Fala was not allowing one moment of activity to go unnoticed on board. The umbilicals were powering and refueling the ship to ten percent, that way local systems weren't in crisis and repairs would be affected internally much easier. Their generator had to be re-installed, and the warp core was woefully insufficient for a ship this size. There was work to be done for sure.


The moment the airlock connected things got very complicated. She saw the Human she was looking for, seeing him in place told her the rest was in place. Temmens was her attache, he was next to the Daimon of her recovery team, and they all awaited on the other side of the airlock. They had waited long for the arrival of the Second Star, unable by legality to touch her until she was in proper custody.


Now the Second Star arrived to the waiting berth with precious little fuel remaining, less than a day of engine operations, and only forty hours of reserve battery capacity. That they limped in, trailing plasma and flaring from several on board fires, certainly made them famous from those watching. From the portholes on the airlock, the soon to be crew of the Second Star awaited their time in battle, seeing what had emerged. The eager crew stood inside 214, staring across the slight distance of the internal shipdocks to see the teeming crowds of would be deckhands also clamoring for their chance to get on board.


The hiss of pressurized air sounded the end of their isolation. More than five hundred hired crew, and a dozen Starfleet officers awaited the turn of the wheel. On the other side of that rolling airlock was hired crew, lawyers, mercenaries, specialists, and whatever Starfleet had in store. Beck’s voice came over shipwide comms,
=0= Rolling Airlock, Umbilical attached. We’ve gone over what to say and what not to say, lets play this smart. Remember, they have tries to plant evidence, and we know they will stop ant nothing to remove us from this ship. This is our home, and we gotta prove it now, make it official and lasting. Game face on. It’s Showtime folks.


{Second Star Bridge}


-2 hours later-


Three Starfleet Security officers assigned from Starbase 214 were conducting the official investigation to what happened. Kas had revealed little the sensor logs did not corroborate already, Avor, Vicente and Akio were under a house arrest onboard awaiting their interviews. Kas, Fala, and Beck were currently under scrutiny as they had refused to leave the bridge, forcing Starfleet to send its agents on board.The Rampart had been recused due to their attempt to plant evidence, and Tasco had already given a signed confession, but Starfleet didn't trust it, a Betazoid had been involved which evoked suspicion. Nonetheless they had spent many hours haggling legalities, until only the strongest points remained.


Starfleet owned the ship. No matter what Fala tried, there was no escaping it. Welded and framed while orbiting Mars and in the name of Starfleet, they clearly had the original claim.


“You can see in the SR-566 statutes it was decided that Federation jurisdiction begins and ends with the presence of a Federation program for its oversight. No Starfleet, No Medical, No Sciences or Engineers, just an empty vessel. It was also not registered to any scrapyard, or tracked via organizational methods, having been abandoned for more than twelve years which makes it a derelict in Talarian law.“


Ensign Jika Risz was a tall Rondan male, he was used to a little fear from people he towered over, but if anything he grew afraid of Fala. She seemed to take notes at his every action and word, and though Rondans were far from diplomatic, he found he had to try lest he give this Ferengi more ammunition.
“Talarian law does not apply-”
Fala was loud, very loud. “International space! Beta Ro was the nearest system, and it lies in international space, close to Egyxx system which is Talarian is it not? Our jurisdictional grievances with Tasco should be take up with them!”




Risz was trying, give the man credit, “This is not a Talarian vessel, or a matter for their authorities, you have stolen a ship that belongs to Starfleet and-”


Fala stayed loud as she yelled back, “This vessel has abnegated claims and even abandonment grounds, you have not supplied evidence of theft, or even accounted for the missing vessel in your shipyard inventories!”


Fala was on fire, she was in her element, this was what she lived for. They had tried to arrest her earlier, Beck too. They had shared a laugh and Judah took a picture for the minute and a half they wore the cuffs. Then a wintry Caitian with a snarl served Starfleet a legal brief whispered into the Starfleet mans ear and the cuffs had been removed. Two hours of failed intimidation had only let Fala issue Tort Hell.


Quinton was also well within his element, though he and Fala often went at each other, they also had a cool chemistry between the two of them.


“Fala, let the boy get the message down first, then he can run along to the boss. She is not, I am not, none of us… are leaving this ship. Any discussions to that effect can take place here.”


Beck referenced the stern faced Security officer idly, he sat in the Captain's chair unconcerned. Ensign Rizss did not appreciate being called a “boy.” Seeing as how the Universal translator could only pass along the equivalent translation to ”immature baby” it made sense that he took it so inflammatory. Rondans were not known for their diplomacy, they were known for being brutes.
“Save the insults pirate, We don’t need answers from you we will get them all when we strip this ship apart.”


Beck let his grin work on the young mans ego,
“Pirate… he called me a pirate, I don’t even have a hat Fala, am I doing this whole thing wrong?”


Rizss made a wrong move and Kas snapped her hands to the rifle at her hip, she had it leveled and primed before his hand even touched hilt. She said nothing, it wasn't her soldier training which compelled her here, this was personal, this was family. She was not losing anymore family.


The Rondan snarled internally, but managed a placid and neutral face as he froze and slowly reversed. The other two Security officers stood frozen awaiting a command from the Ensign. He played it cool, realizing he had overstepped in their home. He used slow hand gestures to motion everyone lower their weapons.


Fala had already issued a harassment order by the time everyone's guns had lowered.


Quinton just smiled, “Arrrrrr. Go get yer bossss ladddy.”
Ensign Rizss knew he was past any hope of interrogating these two. He ordered the two police with him on guard duty to hold the bridge and left.


Fala and Beck left for her office, leaving Kas and two very uncomfortable Starfleet officers standing absolutely still. Vicente came up the lift, as though to enter the bridge, but upon taking in the scene went back inside.


Silence reigned as the consoles silently beeped and whirred. The lift took almost four minutes to get to the bridge from the airlock. When Captain Douglas and Commander Allan walked through the lift doors both officers took their first real breath in a half hour. No sooner did those two come onto the bridge then Fala and Beck walked back as well. All standing, nobody sitting, they crowded the upper deck.


Fala was not looking to mince words.
“Captain, your investigation is concluded, you have your man, and the accurate recounting of events. Let’s cut to the chase, you’re desperate to do anything to keep us from claiming this ship.”


Captain Douglas found he was in a similar disposition, “You won’t. You think Starfleet is afraid to get messy with treaties and legal briefs? I've got a crew of a thousand ready to bend to my order and they'd eat this legal bullshit up. What’s more, you've made such a noise, that the Admiral himself is coming to see us, so I’ll be sure to pass along your empathetic and impassioned pleas to keep what isn’t by any measure earned or warranted. Now what exactly was it you wanted to tell me that couldn't be said over the air?”


Pushing buttons, poking bears, Beck lived for that moment when a bully realized they wrent being taken seriously.
“Oh the Admiral? Good. We can wait for him then. Sorry to drag you out here for nothing.” Beck let the grin work. It always worked.


Commander Allan saved her Captain the indignity. She pulled her phaser, pointing it at Beck.


“Get to the turbolift Captain, you are under arrest.”


Kas pulled her rifle as Beck leapt and stood in her sights, “No! They have no grounds, let them do this.”


The other two officers had pulled their weapons but their eyes were on Kas. Commander Allan didn't flinch, she reached to take Beck by the hand and place a cuff on the wrist, and to everyone's surprise he allowed it. Fala was wide eyed, this wasn’t the plan they had discussed at all!


He winked at Fala and Kas, mortified at what was going on. He held them off with his confidence,, “Not giving em a reason, they can't get us both off this ship now can they.”
Sara Allan snarled as she twisted his arms into a contortion behind him, he grunted through it, eager to passively resist a little longer.
“Can only get one of us it seems,” He twisted to talk to Kas,”by cheating mind you, took four guys and a captain...”
They pushed Beck onto the turbolift, Judah had of course been watching and relayed this image to the crew, they all watched him being arrested without charge.
“I’ll be back, Fala you are in charge. Nobody else leaves or its kidnapping you understand? You get the crew together, you get this ship ready cause we are leaving here soon.”


The Captains, Commander Allan and two Security officers tried to fit, but finally one of the officers stayed while the turbolift doors closed and whisked them all away. Standing at the rear of the bridge under the scrutiny of Kas and Fala the young man bravely spoke up, “I can take the Jefferies tubes…” and walked towards one of the rear accessways.


“Blocked!” Kas barked so loud the young man jumped. Sure enough, it was caved in at parts when he looked down the shaft. He no sooner moved to the other side of the bridge when he heard, “BLOCKED! Just. Wait.”


They had to endure this ignominy as Beck was hauled off to Starfleet’s brig. They both gave the poor man no mercy in their gaze, If glowering had a stun setting, they were at lethal. When the turbo lift arrived almost twelve minutes later the timid officer nearly fainted into it.


A Beat passed before Kas spoke up,
“Are we about to go to war with Starfleet here? Or is Captain Beck gone?
Kas lowered her rifle, they had got her Captain, she was unsure if a bloody rampage or well placed explosives was the right call but if not one of those two it would be something worse if he didnt come back immediately. She wanted to take action but they had warned her of the way this game was played. Violence cedes moral high ground, so far Starfleet had lost much of its. So what did she do now?


“Fala…" She stammered, it was unusual for her...."how… I cant stand here while he may be forced into saying... What do we do?"


Fala looked up from the padd she was reading, her calm was direct contrast to Kas, whose rage had left her quivering.
“About six hundred and fifty job interviews deary.

Her reaction was exactly as Fala hoped and she snorted in a short laugh. She continued on,
"The Federation won’t do anything too unpleasant, he has taken worse. Business first, then we can go get him.”


{Rampart- Brig}

The sound of laughter carried into the hallway as Captain Douglas entered the Brig, he heard a winded Quinton Beck gasp out between bouts of laughter,
“So he says, ‘thats not my belly button!’, and she says, ‘that’s not my finger!’”

The guard was clutching his sides until he saw the captain had entered, then the humor left his face swiftly along with the color.

Beck was still looking to gaslight, “aww come on just cus he is here… shucks, Captain taking the wind out of sails is bad business dontcha know?

Douglas was stentorian, his face much the same. He merely glanced at the door and the young guard bolted in relief. Taciturn to the point of redundancy Douglas sat facing Beck in the brig, a pile of the rogues confiscated stuff mounded on the table next to him. Among the items was a slick handphaser, small enough to be concealed. Douglas surmised it was this mans sidearm, but a small and non flashy weapon didn't fit the profile, much of the man didn't meet expectations.

“We’ve gotten off on the wrong start, and I’ll take responsibility for that. J’ano is an engineer, but you know I sent him for his Security background. That was a breach of trust, but you were not telling me everything. Starfleet likes its answers. Where were you hiding as Tasco was trying to find you, where was this vessel hidden and how was it hidden? How did you come to lose your first vessel, only to survive and somehow emerge out of nowhere with a long lost ship we had considered destroyed. We aren't trying to take away a ship you found, rather you found one of our lost vessels, and we need to know how it happened. Can we simply talk this through?”

Quinton wanted to believe the man, but there was contempt in his voice.
“Everything we say, is being recorded and will be used against me. Try a sweeter Carrot maybe, but I hear your word choices loud and clear.”

“I’m out of carrots, and I am being careful to withhold the stick. I want to try and express to you what this means to us, so you can understand why we are at odds. Can we have a civil discussion?”

Beck answered one impossibly loaded question with another,
“Can there be a civil discussion when one man imprisons another without charge?”

Douglas took that point to heart, and deciding to offer the olive branch all the way, he stood crossing to the forcefield controls. He hit the pad, bio-metrics confirming his intent and the field dropped.

“Captain...a talk is all I ask.”

Beck knew the cage he was trapped in was far larger than the brig and this room. This was still, unexpected to say the least.

“Okay, then you can talk to me about why my crew are still being investigated like criminals? Or why you tried to plant evidence so that it looked like we murdered people? Why aren’t you facing charges for that, why I am under arrest when I should be seeing to my loved ones who have all lost beloved members of their family?”

Douglas was no pushover, he badgered Quinton, “Put the rhetoric aside, lets cut to the chase as that Ferengi said. Tasco confessed to everything, so Starfleet is pursuing him and the Barzan Republic, your testimonies and evidence…they exonerate you from any wrong doing so far as we can see.

“As much as I figured, so tell me what is keeping you so red in the face, why can’t we leave?”

“You know why.”

Beck was exasperated but also elated to hear the investigation was over., he was however still upset over the presumption of Starfleet to impose claim on something it didn't even know existed.

“It isn’t your ship sir, it is a ship, like so many others, and we found it abandoned and dead in space. By several laws of salvage and accords handling international space law-”

Douglas almost grit his teeth but held his composure, “That is a Starfleet hull, unmistakeable for half the known galaxy, it flies as a part of a fleet that stretches ideologically to the first aviators who banded in corps. I wear this uniform because Ive earned it, I captain a Galaxy class Starship because I have earned and proven my worthiness. What do you have son? How have you proven your mettle to command such a fine ship as this?”

Beck said nothing. He knew who he was and never had to worry about proving it. His father had been both Starfleet and Professional services, raised him and his brother in space before going off to serve in days prior to the three Quadrant war the Dominion brought. He was there in the evacuation of the Cardassian DMZ, he wept when his mother was lost to the Maquis cause. He had side along parked tugantines five times the size of a Galaxy class at Warp speed, this was not a matter of experience.

Douglas pressed, thinking his silence was because there was no good reply for Beck.
“That ship comes to port, there are prejudices, expectations, standards. You can't measure up to those. Somebody call for help, Starfleet answers the call, but you… you expect us to be okay with someone flying in Starfleet property not answering that call?”

Beck found his voice again, “I couldnt care less about your thoughts on my ethics. I expect you to uphold the law that you have sworn to protect. I expect you to see a need and fulfill that need because that is your given function. You are not some saint, dispensing wisdom and energy from on high, you are not a better person, more suited to dispense a sense of fairness and equality than we are to our decisions. That ship was abandoned, forgotten, rotting. We made it our home, it saved our lives when we needed it and it is ours.”

The gary haired Captain shook his head, “We may disagree on that point, but you cannot compare your professional experience to what Starfleet offers, we don’t pretend to be better, we are better. What can you expect us to do but show by example what our lifestyle provides?”

Quinton found that sentiment irritated him, “You are a soldier in service to a larger organization. I expect a soldier to do what a soldier is supposed to do. As. They. Are. Told. You exist to defend my way of life, I do not exist to justify you.”

Douglas scoffed the entire time trying to dismiss him. “Starfleet is what makes your way of life possible.”

“Commerce and civilian freight is not solely thanks to Starfleet. We fly a different flag, abide by interstellar law, and are owned by nobody. You dont let us live our lives, we live them regardless of your opinions. Starfleet serves so that free life and culture exists, we are not beholden to you and you do not rule over us.”

“And relative peace and stability across two quadrants isn’t thanks to Starfleet, you arent grateful for the space we have created for those who request it, for even our adversaries to choose as they will?” Douglas held a hopeful look on his face for a moment, certain he had struck a blow.

Beck had lost his patience. “The man at the helm of one of Starfleet’s finest ships doesn't get to try to and educate me on how the other half live. I’ve been to the world's spared the grace of Federation utopia, it’s hard living in places. To think those who refuse do so out of fear or desire to maintain sovereignty paints the Federation in a different way then your philosophy dictates.

Giving up diplomacy Captain Douglas bared his teeth as he stood and snarled out, “Those who refuse our help, deserve to labor in their indecision. I don't hold a quarrel with you, I wouldn't waste my time usually with one like you but here I am, you brought me down to your level.”

Yelling right back Quinton found he was literally toe to toe with the large man, “You are a sad elitist who is furious a low life like me can dare to think himself equal. Just because I didnt pay my dues to your fraternity of like minded individuals-

“Its an insult to those who died-”

“My whole family was lost to Starfleet, they are among those who died. I swore I wouldn't waste my life to a monolithic agency heedless to the lives its “peace” uses. Maybe this is all I can expect in return-

“You’re not leaving here in that ship! I’ll vaporize the damn thing with all of you on board! To hell with you Quinton, you are a bottom feeder and your family service is the only thing keeping you from my boot up your ass.” Snarling, Douglas was red in the face, and Beck was smiling.

The smile did not help Douglas, he proceeded to lose his temper even more.
“Wipe that damn smile off your face you pathetic scum. I know you murdered people, I know you had some kind of spatial fold hiding your treasure trove of ill gotten goods. You had your Betazoid alter that mans memories, we are not fools! You may think you have us all wound up, but I will find the truth, and I will see you rot in a penal colony-

He stopped as he saw Beck hold his lapel, and a shiny stud was prominently displayed. It was Fala’s personal camera, a gift to him granted not even a week ago and it had been recording them this entire time without detection. The spy cam had not seemed all to grand at the time, but now it was easily the best birthday gift he had ever gotten.

“Incidentally, proof of a personal bias from the arresting and investigating officers won’t hurt my case either. Fala was nice enough to warn me that Starfleet isn't beholden to provide their interrogation footage in civilian cases like these, just a report. Seems like it's a little loaded to the Starfleet side of things, unimpeachable moral authority notwithstanding. Now I have my own, copied in triplicate of course, you can take my little device here if you like...”

With great satisfaction he pushed a small button on his lapel, spoke into it, “Now I lay me down to sleep,” and it was off.

Douglas said nothing still, so Beck did the talking.

“I believe you once told me to play fair and I’d be treated fair. I agreed, but was just never fooled into believing you would uphold your end of any bargain. Like it or not, we own this ship. Get out of our way, before this pissing contest you've started gets more serious.”

Beck broke the posturing and stood up. Crossing the still catatonic Douglas, he began grabbing his items from the table as Douglas stared ahead. As he slid the few items and jewelry back to place he moved to exit, before he left the room, he stopped and spoke to Douglas, who did not turn to meet his eyes.
“I will not, my crew will not, my ship will not ever serve Starfleet. You want that ship, better work it out with us, I’ll consider a discount for Starfleet til we pay off the repairs, but mark my words. I’ll not let that ship loose from my cold dead hands you understand me? Fire, death and destruction awaits you if you think we will just hand it over. Tell that to your superiors.”

He awaited a moment and when Douglas still made no move, Beck walked to the doors, the ensign on guard immediately took a position near him.
“I’ll dismiss myself then, Captain.”

Captain Douglas said nothing so that he could contain the depths of rage within. With a hiss he barely whispered audibly, “Be gone.”

Beck left the room, Douglas was still nonplussed as to what had happened. All they had needed was get them off the ship, or find them guilty of any crime. Nothing had turned up, these people were innocent, there was no above board way of getting them off that ship without forcibly doing so. So many questions still remained, and once the investigation was announced as concluded, they would be able to leave, no law could stop them.

It took a moment, as he let the words and experience wash through his mind, and an idea occurred to him, one that ordinarily would not have come to him.

…’pay off repairs…’ He spoke to himself, the idea coming into being.

=A= Captain Douglas to Starbase 214 OPS, I need to speak with the quartermaster refitting the Excelsior class derelict towed in today.”
=A= Starbase 214- Chief Alldar here.
=A= Chief, We need to meet at your next convenience. The repairs to that vessel are not to be subsidized under federation hospitality. I will see to the Vice Admiral’s office, but every weld and man hour is to be tracked for invoicing. Not one free moment of labor understood?”
=A= Understood sir, so far we have supplied forty kiloliters of antimatter, 14 kiloliters of deuterium, We have had to synthesize hull plating-”
=A= Excellent, but I dont need a recounting now. Also, no extras, like I said we will explain later, but the bare minimum is all we are to provide.
=A= Okay, understood. I’d like to meet with you as well at your next opportunity.
=A= Of course Chief, two hours from now in OPS.
=A= Acknowledged

The brig was still empty, but now Douglas felt he had control, they may have danced their way out of much of the legal problems, but there was something he could do.

Make them pay.

{Second Star- Engineering}

“Quint!”
That noise, his name and a complaint all rolled into a single belch from her. He had only just gotten back to the ship, his wrists still rubbed raw from the restraints when he was imprisoned two hours ago. Fala had debriefed him, seen the footage and delighted at their good turn. Then, something had changed, and Fala was back to furious all day.
“They are making us pay the taxes twice, and it's easily twice the market value for the labor they are charging us, we don’t need all the wardrooms repaired, We definitely don't need them to be charging us for carpeting, but they won’t allow us to interfere until the determination is made. Quinton they are breaking us financially, I could buy a moon for what these repairs would cost!”

Quinton stood at the open maw of the Warp Core ejection plate, it gave them a gopher hole to poke their heads out of and see the ship in a new light.
“But could you buy a starship like this?”

Fala almost replied, but truthfully for what this ship represented, her whole life savings was a small trade. This ship was autonomy, it was freedom, it was a chance for all of them to rise above the rank and file. All the money in her coffers couldn't buy what this ship was selling.

“We have to restrain them, if we can only limit them to necessary or requested repairs, it may make it possible for us to afford this, but it will mean half the ship stays broken.”

“If we can fly out of here, then the rest will follow.” Beck found his words lacking, so taken was he by the spectacle above him. Holographic lattice in conjunction with physical beings working on the hull made a ballet of synchronicity. All of this was inside a cavernous starbase, where he saw a few other vessels also being worked on, but mostly just wide open and empty space greeted his eyes. In a vague way it reminded him of the mysterious Temple of Light, the micro universe which had defied their eyes before.

Fala also lost in reverie brought them back to the matter at hand.
“You should go see Kas. Since her family has arrived she has worked non-stop.”

Ina, three adorable Andorian children, and a boatload of emotional baggage had arrived on Starbase 214 just waiting for the ward rooms on the Second Star to be rebuilt. None of them had seen much of Kas or Avor, they had lost one of their bondmates, he couldn’t imagine what they were going through.
“She’s avoiding them. Just like before, but now they’ve come to her. She needs recreation at this point more than anything. They got holodecks here right?”

Fala nodded, “Judah is also going to be a problem. I’m getting pushback from Starfleet Medical, they want his medical history, but I'm saying it was lost with the first Second Star during the encounter. Akio broke half the laws that exist reviving that poor boy, we will have to answer their questions eventually.”

Beck nodded as well, “Eventually.” He watched a rivet machine welding the final bolts into a smooth surface, the hull plate was seamless with its neighbor, a micrometer perfect alignment. He also idly wondered how much money it cost for that precision.
“Quinton, we have to act now or we will be forced to surrender the ship to Starfleet when we can't foot the bill.”

Starfleet was trying mightily, but they had gotten this far on brazen tenacity. “I’ll contact OPS, we can reduce the workload to vital systems, we can go to cheaper suppliers for the other repairs. Also, any damage inflicted from Dominion ships during the war are covered under a reparations-

Fala’s eyes lit up, “Relief zone Amnesty! Oh Quinton that changes everything!” Fala grabbed Quinton by the ears in a way he assumed a male Ferengi would enjoy. He fully understood the kiss she planted on his lips. He was stunned as she practically ran down the corridors out of Engineering.

Fish, and earth, was what Beck decided the overall flavour was reminiscent of. Not unpleasant but he had never taken to looking at Fala like that.

-End-


Quinton Beck

Fala Gaz

Othor Jaxsz

 

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