Scampering about.

Posted on Sat Feb 17th, 2018 @ 9:49pm by
Edited on on Mon Jan 14th, 2019 @ 9:32pm

3,716 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...
Location: Starbase 214
Timeline: Day 1 in SB

Backpost...

-ON-

{Starbase 214 Promenade merchant level}

Quill was going about the Promenade; the Second Star was not due for a little bit, his 'luggage' and other parcels were waiting for him in the Cargo section, he had a steward taking care of it and would see to the delivery once the ship came into the station.

He had gone in a more casual fashion, the slacks of black were always in style, the red semi-formal shirt with a Blue blazer styled coat seemed to promote a professional attire and not be so haughty that he puts himself out and market place. His suit was press of course and quite fashionable across many demographics. Profits were not everything ; it is being in a market to make the profit that seemed to be everything to Quill. Most important is 'knowing your market and where one can profit from it. Right now he was in General ; one could say nearly casual, mindset while he waits his next business opportunity to finally dock.

In the mean time Quill sat at a little cafe' storefront very close to the docking area; the close proximity to the Docking access was only one aspect of the Cafe's offerings. The servers of the opposite sex were given to wearing rather attractive and shorter skirts that were like a Ferengi Tax bracket; getting high but never showing what they are hiding.

The tea was above average; teetering on really good but he had other attentions. The crew of the new vessel would have to be thoroughly studied and their medical record reviewed to see where Quill could be of help? He is a healer above all else, also he had a rumor there were other medical personnel on the ship; it would be enlightening to have a professional conversation with colleagues.

{Starbase 214- Airlock 14A}

Rowland had known curiosity, he had known the thrill of the chase, but now it was failure he considered. Pursuing bounties for people was fun, but chasing rare items had truly grabbed his heart. He had pursued a Yridian and Ferengi duo across the Alpha Quadrant, and they had gone to ground somewhere within or near the Talarian sector. Access was forbidden to non Talarians, and their border was very tightly observed.

A pleasantly toned but very loud overhead announcement began, timed for the opening of the airlock from his commuter shuttle.

"Welcome to Strbase 214- Gateway to the Perron Anomaly, Beloti Combine, Beta Trianguli, Galens Comet cluster and so much more. Please gather your items and any fellow travelers as we disembark to the Station Airlock and Promenade Level. Indicators on the floor...."

Rowland tuned out the drivel. His ship was hidden currently, at great effort, within the base scrapyard. It one of hundreds in the sector still active, as scuttling was a prime industry for locals. His only hope to get past the Talrian patrols was to be dragged behind a trawler of sufficient size and get past their gravitic sensor nets. He needed a smuggler for that, something outside Rowlands skillset currently.

Now, with his visage and affect totally Human, despite the metal skin and myriad cybernetic parts just beneath the surface, for all accounts he looked Human. Striding onto the Promenade he admired the audacity of Federation engineering. The cavernous window was surely a weakness from a tactical point of view, but seeing a thousand people mingle casually under starlight was a projection of strength he could appreciate. Softness was only weak until you considered the power of a culture to allow for it.

His digital eyes began profiling faces and among the crowd a Ferengi was nearby, a likely place to start when looking for smugglers. He parted the crowds gently, one shoulder dedicated to the duffel bag, the other gently nudging the stream of people.

He approached the table where the statistically large Ferengi sat. Adopting the behavior of a total stranger he sat at the same table, angled away. There was a moment he took to settle in his seat before offering a small nod in greeting to his tablemate, his emotional algorithms dictated this but he wasn't sure why. Learning the relevance of his programmed behaviors was something that eluded him.

"Buy you a drink?" Quill asked in what seemed out of the blue.

The way the man sat; it was with a purpose, the casual manner was something practiced as most strangers aren't keen to sit near Ferengi; they have an innate reluctance thinking that Ferengi are greedy and will somehow swindle them out of everything if in close proximity. As a major rule Ferengi are just not the type that other races 'casually' sit down and acknowledge in a social manner. The man had to have a purpose despite his manner; the direct line the man took to the seat, coming out of the crowd in a strategic manner; in the Fleet Quill had to patch up a few security types, and been on a few away missions, the 'Man of Danger' had a routine, manners and a way of being. This man fit the bill, while subtle he was not an average person and Quill was likely noticed because of his curse; it always made him stand out in crowds, damn he hated being tall.

Meta data on the voice and DNA biometrics Rowland was gathering pulled an impressive range of sources documenting the man before him. Making the snap judgement based on the snapshot of what he saw he pressed his mission.

Quill however surprised him, breaking the ice neatly.

"Thank you, Whatever you are having would be fine."

Rowland let his luggage shift in the right way, six bars of gold pressed latinum tumbled slightly, inaudible to anyone else. He didnt realize yet that Quill was different in more ways than just met the eye.

"Waiter, please bring my friend a Mint coffee and some extra sugar please." HE smiled politely. "I have a sweet tooth so I would have the sugar you add to taste." Quill smiled. The table took the order and relayed it to the kitchen without delay or a single sound.

The way the shift of his case would hint at an odd weight; the clink of metal was unmistakable, the Latinum was something his race coveted; he loved it himself and sought to get more so to do research. But this was also something like a succulent worm; it could bite back. If a man has money he would not normally let it be heard; A businessman can catch Latinum in the wind and the sound of it near by. His greed was not for Latinum and this ploy had intrigued Quill. He lifted his cup and took a drink.

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" Quill asked in average conversational manner. "I am Quill..." He offered a hand shake as that was the majority of humans accepted as a sign of peace. As a majority of humans are of the right hand it is a long tradition to offer the dominant hand that would normally draw a weapon as a sign of peace.

Rowland looked to the offered hand, social programming informing him of the action to use in response. Humans used this as a greeting, it was an embedded facet of Terrans from Earth. An odd gesture from an odd Ferengi...

He took the hand, letting the grip of his hand adjust to five percent over the grip used by this Quill.

"I am... a man looking for a way into Talarian space." He knew the lack of return in not supplying his name would let Quill know this was definitely an illicit transaction, within ninety percent certainty based on given cues.

The tea they ordered arrived, and the buxsome waitress who brought it winked at the aesthetically symmetrical and bilaterally impeccable face of Rowland. He felt his partial "one corner smile" creep over his face, algorithms responding to cues beneath his conscious thought. She blushed at his non verbal reply, the subtleties totally lost on the higher functioning parts of Rowlands brain.

Her gaze fell on Quill, from the neck down he was not Ferengi so her eyes did a double take as they traveled past his chiseled and taut chest and to his sharpened teeth.

"Oh... and here is the same.. for you sir as well." She stammered, a touch flummoxed by the offense her obvious surprise likely caused the mighty Ferengi. In her imagination he was a Ferengi warrior, a unicorn of the cosmos but feared as any Klingon. The young Human surely wasn't dining with this oddity was he? He seemed in his twenties, same as her.

Was this crime?

Another table turned off white as people sat down to it, and the waitress vanished to them grateful to let the mystery be.

Quill watched the interaction between the man and the waitress; things were not as they seemed. This is one of those situations that took a certain diplomacy.

"Very healthy woman." Quill had noted from the trim of her figure; her mammary glands, and the way she moved. He wondered why the man had picked him to talk with him. "I might have to leave her more of a tip; you know that a waitress actually takes in the business flow of a place; tips are a mainstay and the one large variable to her wages that cannot be predicted. It is a trait of her type of business; others have variable that are obvious you know?"

He was taking a stab at this; it came with the fact the man was vague in his manner and to just casually sit was the kicker.

"Another is the nature of how a person acts as well, the manners of a person warrants observation." Quill smiled. "There are also two types that can be harder to read; those with overt objective and others that are more of a covert type in how they gather what they need. You strike me as the covert type of gaining an objective. Are you police, intel or looking for someone to collect upon?"

He left the last one open as it was unlikely to be an assassin as the man focused on no one else and Quill is just a traveling Doctor in nice clothing, so it had to be something else that was focused on Quill. "Am I in trouble or..." HE grinned. "Are you checking out our waitress?"

A curious blush came over Rowlands cheeks, this was a nuanced response he didnt understand fully.

"If she were amenable. Though I think that is best left for another time. I am looking for someone, funny that you mention it."

Rowland let his eyes scan the Ferengi in full, noting that Quill wore a finer suit that had imperfections notable for a hand stitched set of clothing. His heart rate was slightly elevated as one might have a curiosity range for humanoids. He had nothing in dilation of the eyes nor any additional body temperature changes. He saw a set of three specialized scalpels; hypo and other standard medical kit on Quill's waist more reminiscent of the 2260's style with modern utility items. The Tricorder was on a passive scan registering the sensory waves and other conditions around him but not appearing to be transmitting but in recording mode, only a slight chirp that denoted being scanned sounded.

Rowland looked deeper, the time in this passing in microseconds. He wanted to see who this Ferengi was, but was getting very little.

He had a light lunch earlier as the digestive track was processing and the amount of the tea compound in his stomach showed casual consumption. No threatening cybernetics but a very fit physique unlike the average Ferengi; he had obviously kept a regiment and under the clothing was more of a threat than might be seen by the surface. No weapons hidden on his person and his bag contained three days worth of clothing along with a complete medical kit; slightly better stocked than standard Federation issue but not much more as it was on the ground beside him and a safety line attached to his belt and the satchel.

"It is a subtle thing to notice; I had many the Security personnel as patients; they did seem to get the majority of wounds by work or play; keeping me in business you might say." Quill had a slight heart rate jump of notation after the chirp that comes from Humanoid knowledge and calculated conclusions. "I seem to think it has a Ferengi in that account; hence your 'checking me out' and putting me aside I hope as a suspect?"

No more games, fewer details discussed the better really. "A Yridian named Yr’zz, and most likely a human companion. They stole an item from a client and I've been commissioned to recover it. I'd rather not disclose what the item is."

"Shall I treat you as the Galactic man of mystery then?" Quill nod. "I need not know what was stolen; I am no thief I assure you, but if you need I do have a tricorder that I could have scan for the biological signatures of the suspects in a radius of here?"

Rowland felt assured he was speaking to a real person, not some fabricated life and personality put on by a swindler. The Ferengi Doctor with bodybuilding as a hobby? No chance that was a forged identity. Instinct told him to do what he sat down to do already, he had the man interested.

"Well, first your other questions. I am no law enforcement officer. I am seeking items of priceless sentiment to the right people. Some objects value is not determined through its elemental compositions but the emotional attachment to it. Let others seek minor prizes, my fares are beyond what many governments spend in a year. This case... I have chased them all over. They found no quarry, no solace. I have been here for five years, searching everywhere, I know they are in this sector but they elude me! Then I hear of this ship, the Second Star, chiseled from the inside of a rock and flying free. I wonder what else was in there along an abandoned starship. So I tried to access their secure hold, and despite a flawless cloned slick of DNA for biometric access, I was denied entry. Now I want entry into Talarian space on board the Second Star so I can crack that vault open and get something that is held very dear to someone."

He pulled the dark wooden box with the velvet wrapped bars inside.

"Is there interest enough for you to help me Quill?"

"I am a Doctor, I can help you with Medical things." Quill did eye the items in the box; the way it shone would be worth a lot of research, raw materials and pay-offs to allow the furthering of Medical Science, that enticed him. "If you want help with this I am willing with the condition I am made aware it is legitimate in your quest. No insult intended but I do not steal, I acquire through bartering that which I desire in an honorable manner." Quill said. "Outside of that I am quite reasonable to work with a Biometrics code, your stick had one problem and I think I know why it did not work?" Quill smiled.

Rowland was intrigued to hear why, the Vault was impenetrable by reasonable methods. Sneaking on board the Second star had been a simple matter, his biometrics were broadcast to human. His Cyborg brain immune to telepathy, he posed as a mariner and got access to the vault on the lowest deck of the ship. Once he pressed his thumb, the slick of DNA coating it, the door should have slid open.

Instead a site to site transporter had landed him in the brig. The only reason he had been let go was to spread the word to other would-be thieves, the female Andorian had made that clear.

"I used Mitochondria from the ships DNA profile for every crewmember, sequenced the RNA into a cellulose applice`...

"And the scan did not allow you access correct?" Quill stated. "There is a factor that most scans do not take into account but advanced ones do." Quill commented. "Let us say that I have patched enough Security Fools to know a few secrets they boasted about Security Measures that allowed them to catch a thief and how they got wounded in that pursuit to have a valid error you are likely facing from the biometric impression stand point."

Rowland considered a spy novel he had read once, "The Tailor of Panama." Was Quill a bored physician looking to create a new life if intrigue? Why would he be so willing to help?

"I'll admit to never having had difficulty with a lock, the computer readouts for its denial of my scan are here as well. Your expert opinion is appreciated."

Rowland drank from his cup, evermore curious by the second.

"Did you use an artificial digit?" Quill asked while looking at the data. "And what of the shape of the scan plate; those are major factors as well due to the impulses that can be recorded?"?" He looked up

Rowland was able to configure his hand the the fleshy compounds a number of ways, the surface had been flat and didnt prompt for shapes.

"LCARS, flat paneled. The AI is what I worry detected something, the slick was made correctly."

"Ah. Then you got live scanned. Interesting."

Rowland tilted his head the mention of "live scanning."

"It's... So when an artificial intelligence is given a task like say... securing a vault door, they can be given such exact parameters as to be impossible to replicate. You had all the right stuff, but some AI, took a peek at you and saw you weren't the DNA on the pad being submitted. That implies a truly advanced computer at work. Starfleet has similar capabilities on their ships."

Rowland understood, biometrics could only be fooled to a certain extent, past that was asking for a lucky break. There was no other way to get into the vaults without assaulting them directly. He needed to get on board and infiltrate, disable the AI, access the vault.

Quill made another guess. "You got caught. They let you go, that's why you are sneaking on board right? No other purposes like turning us into Starfleet, or inciting revenge from aggrieved parties who feel the Second Star carries ill gotten gains?"

Rowland immediately shook his head, "No, I revere life. My goal is the recovery of a specific item, the thief is a secondary concern and likely not on this ship."

"You know it's bound for Talarian space... it'll be a month before they even begin the return trip."

"I have arrangements that do not harm anyone to provide passage from this ship. I merely lack the means of getting on board and staying hidden."

Quill took the man at his word, fairly confident it was the truth.

"Okay then, well you might enjoy stowing away in my medical bins. I'll have to leave some items for later, but for the price you offer, I can get you on board. One condition though, actually two..."

"Name them."

"I want you to provide a DNA transcript and confession on a 36 hour repeating RNA polymerase protein chain. This way if you do wind up harming the ship I have ability to provide recourse."

Rowland blinked heavily, disbelief at the the audacious offer filtering through. "Why not a recorded confession with my blood in a vial."

"Same thing, but more messy. You want on board, I want to make sure you are going to behave. The second I get in trouble for anything I produce the RNA chain with your data and this little conversation here. My lawyers will take care of anything beyond that I assure you."

Rowland had few options. The ship was on lockdown, and time was short. "I will consider your offer Mr. Quill. I would naturally expect the RNA chain to be destroyed once I leave?"

"Of course."

"And the other condition?

"Just a name, doesn't even need to be yours."

The two moments Rowland took to consider were measured in pictoseconds as he ran variables on his odds. Quill offered the highest odds of success, nearly a million simulations underlined that conclusion.

"Counter offer Mr. Quill... You get you behavior guarantee alright, but it remains in a neutral spot in your sickbay. I want it to be safe, and untouched by anyone. I will further ask the polymerase feature a self replicating code to phase out the data upon replication of any kind. My biometrics and internal scans are something I'd prefer to keep secret."

Quill smiled, six bars richer. The only leverage for a man of mystery to be held to was anything that revealed bits of that mystery. "A fine counter. We are agreed then, Mr...?"

"Agreed. You can call me Rowland. I'll leave my... bargaining chip in your quarters tonight, you will need to be present naturally while I record it. Do not review it, it will self destruct if you do. You will make the arrangements for tomorrow then?

Quill simply nodded, this cloak and dagger game was too much fun, but he had to play cool.

"Oh yes, and save those bars for yourself, I will accept payment on behalf of my patients for my fee. I don't carry cash, too easy to lose."

Rowland understood, to any security officer these two men had barely said a word, the moment a bag changed hands, the whole interaction would see scrutiny. With nothing further to discuss Rowland finished his drink and stood, giving no indication to Quill whatsoever. His behavioral algorithms dictating he pretend to look at station maps to look like a tourist as he left the table.

Quill took a moment to watch the man, pondering on his choices just now. Truthfully he didnt need the money, it was the adventure he wanted. Rowland was a mystery, and that was exactly the kind of thing Quill wanted in life.

-End-

-Austen
-Darrell

 

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