S1 - Mission 6 - Debt Collection

[Naira]

[Naira's Quarters]

"Good idea." Stafford realized he may have spoken out of turn with the children there. He loved kids, but wasn't used to them at all.

"Perhaps we could have a late breakfast?" The captain asked hopefully. "I have not eaten. Been a busy day already."

He led them out onto passageway and into a turbolift.

[Promenade]

"=/\=Stafford to Soreka. I don't want to hear excuses, Commander. I want results or you'll be back on Andoria fighting biker gangs." Stafford smiled at Naira. His tone had been light and cheeky. He didn't mean anything by his words.

"Work work work. It never ends." The captain told her.

[Automat]

The restaurant was actually nothing but a bank of replicators and tables. There were no servers, just a place by a turbolift for the crew to self serve and eat before getting to work. The place was filling up quickly with hungry crewmen grabbing a quick bite.

"I'm afraid for something fancy we'd have to leave your kids for a while." The captain said. He set his cane against the back of his chair and sat. "Hope you don't mind replicated food."

[Automat]

Naira took a seat opposite the captain and for a moment she watched the crowds as lines of people gathered to obtain their meals of choice and dispersed about the tables as friends and coworkers met up with each other. There were too many greetings and conversations happening simultaneously for her to pick one out of the group, but just watching the seamless way that members of different species worked together gave her hope for the future.

"Honestly, I grew up eating replicated food. I know you're supposed to say that you like it better when it's made by a real person who can put their own unique twist on the recipe, but it's quick, it's easy and it is always reliable."

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Automat]

Naira took a seat opposite the captain and for a moment she watched the crowds as lines of people gathered to obtain their meals of choice and dispersed about the tables as friends and coworkers met up with each other. There were too many greetings and conversations happening simultaneously for her to pick one out of the group, but just watching the seamless way that members of different species worked together gave her hope for the future.

"Honestly, I grew up eating replicated food. I know you're supposed to say that you like it better when it's made by a real person who can put their own unique twist on the recipe, but it's quick, it's easy and it is always reliable."

[Automat]

"Not me," Stafford told her. "Grew up in coal mining country. It was nothing but rib sticking food and hard work. My first taste of replicated food was at a relative's house in the big city. Pittsburgh. It tasted strange."

He saw two women walking arm in arm towards a table and it's replicator. They ordered together and quickly. They both received a small pot of herbal tea and a plate of toast. A hard working couple. He tried to remember who the women were, but he hadn't met them. With a crew of 50,000 people it was hard to meet everyone.

"These women. Angelika Koehler, Daphne Crane, Domonique Tuveri." The captain told the science officer. "Each met violent ends. The last two were particularly gruesome. It fell to me to tell their families. But it falls to you to prepare the bodies. Angelika has been in stasis for over a month, as she died on an away mission."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get right down to business. It's your first day. Shall we eat?"

"=/\=Pancakes, scrapple, black coffee." He told the machine. His plate twinkled into existence and was scooped into eager hands. The golden brown, yellow rimmed discs of dough were so big they lapped over the edge of the plate. Each was topped with a pat of butter and there were tiny little ramekins of syrup. The scrapple was crispy on the outside and a quick stab with his knife indicated it's mushy center was good and soft. A bit of steam had escaped from it and he quickly sampled it. It was spicy and savory. Satisfied, Stafford sipped some of the strong black coffee and then poured maple syrup on everyone in sight before digging in.

[Hust Kinun]

[Offices]

Hust stood up and walked out of the small cramped office he called his own. He felt like getting something to eat, but he didn't know quite what. He went to one of the nearby replicators in the common areas of his office, and ordered some food. It was nothing fancy- Uttaberries and some jestral tea. It reminded him of home.

While it was no major meal, it did suffice in taking the edge off so he could work more. And it made it so Hust would not have to see space, another person, or Jett anywhere on the station. Unless, of course, he was called somewhere and couldn't find an excuse.

So here he sat, eating his food, making no noise, and pretending he didn't exist. The simple things in life.

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Executive Officer's Office]

One thing Tritter had been happy for, was a chance to eat something that wasn't replicated foulness that he was never a fan of. He than got up, he than set the plate aside, and made his way over towards Ryan, he than stated "Come here, I want to show you something" Ryan looked at him curiously, than down to the two kids, as if asking, what are we going to do with them? Tritter got the hint fairly quickly, he than made his way over towards his youngsters, he scooped up his Son and than looked at his Daughter, he than said "Follow me"

They made their exit from the office, the Chief had dropped the munchkins off with one of their friends and he than looked towards Ryan "You will like this" Ryan nodded slightly, if anyone knew him well, it was Michael. He than replied with "Lead the way" Michael grabbed the other man by the hand and lead him to a secluded section of the Promenade, weaving through decks and turbo lifts. The Chief knew the Station like the back of his hand. He lead him to an area that was mostly dark, although both men had pretty uncanny vision in the dark, so they had no problem seeing where they were going. Michael knew his partner had a certain, almost child like fascination when it came to the Stars. He knew his Partner had seen plenty of space, between his own time places and their time together, he than stated, "I know I owe you alot... Things have been keeping us apart, and I know that doesn't help things. But I owe you something special"

He had left it intentionally vague, to give the other man plenty to wonder about. He tried to make the Station as much his own home as his partners, so hopefully the other man doesn't decide getting out of dodge is a good idea, as he has came to rely on him for many things. The two were standing next to eachother, looking out one of the large panes of composite material that protected them from space, he held on tightly to the other man's hand. The silence spoke more than any words could. He than pulled the other man in to him and wrapped an arm tightly around him, in a very protective fashion, although the Chief's partner could more than handle his own.

[Vem, son of Motag]

[Docking Ring]

"Vem!" With a gnarled old hand Drega indicated for one of his underlings to collect the latinum. "The captain is a shrewd diplomat to have you meet us. This here is a Klingon that appreciates the finer things in life. Profits, respect, and females!"

His fellows cheered lustily.

"You will definitely be staying on now that this place is under new management," Drega mentioned. "So no worries. Now, I'm afraid that the Ferengi Commerce Authority has decided to call in its marker, Vem. The Starbase Columbus belongs to us now."

[Docking Ring]

Vem sat with his golden-lab smile for a full beat while the implications of what the Sub-Nagus had just said set in.

"Well I'm glad to know I'll still have work after this." Vem agreed rather positively though he had no idea what the hell was going on. The Captain was going to love this. In fact, Vem even chortled a bit thinking about Luke's reaction as he said so. Vem gave the Ferengi Sub-Nagus a hearty pat on the back.

"That sounds like a wonderfully complex and materialistic thing dear Sub-Nagus and I'm sure you'll get the utmost joy showing this Á¢â,¬Ëœmarker' to the Captain so he can turn over his keys and command codes. Right Á¢â,¬Ëœdis way." He rasped cheerily as he began to lead them towards the promenade. He had the good sense to know when he was totally out of his element and knew the perfect person to go to about it.

"Jus' one moment gentlemen. I'll jus' ring da' Á¢â,¬ËœAptin." He said and stepped to the side, knowing that they had good enough hearing that trying to get out of earshot would be difficult,

" Hey there Á¢â,¬ËœApin. Dis' is Vem. Jus' wanted ta' let ya' know Á¢â,¬Ëœdat the Ferengi Commerce Authority is callin' in it's marker and we need to leave the station so our new Ferengi friends here can take it over and do with it as they please. I'll be in the promenade getting the new owners of this station some crunchy beetles. Feel free to join us with the big shiny key and command codes for the station once you've packed yer' things... sir."

Vem just kept up the happy idiot facade that normally served him so well when he was out of his depth and hoped for the best. Hopefully the Captain would get the abused meaning of this and understand the importance (afterall he'd remembered to use the word Á¢â,¬Ëœsir' that hu-mons were so fond of).

The Captain would totally be able to fix this... because he sure couldn't.

...

Man they'd stepped in it this time.

[Zuriel Soreka]

[Naira's Quarters]

"Good idea." Stafford realized he may have spoken out of turn with the children there. He loved kids, but wasn't used to them at all.

"Perhaps we could have a late breakfast?" The captain asked hopefully. "I have not eaten. Been a busy day already."

He led them out onto passageway and into a turbolift.

[Promenade]

"=/\=Stafford to Soreka. I don't want to hear excuses, Commander. I want results or you'll be back on Andoria fighting biker gangs." Stafford smiled at Naira. His tone had been light and cheeky. He didn't mean anything by his words.

"Work work work. It never ends." The captain told her.

[Automat]

The restaurant was actually nothing but a bank of replicators and tables. There were no servers, just a place by a turbolift for the crew to self serve and eat before getting to work. The place was filling up quickly with hungry crewmen grabbing a quick bite.

"I'm afraid for something fancy we'd have to leave your kids for a while." The captain said. He set his cane against the back of his chair and sat. "Hope you don't mind replicated food."

"That was one time man... Zuriel replied as he closed the channel and rubbed his brow with his hand. It seemed Luke would accept any amount of failure in regards to this little project, but if Zuriel was honest with himself, he was beginning to feel the strain. After taking a few deep breaths he put himself back into his task. Currently he had come across another design flaw in the drones themselves, while each drone was its on entity they all transmitted and received on the same subspace channel, to make things worse the added traffic on the drone population increase caused a memory cascade, drones would for lack of a better term lag, this caused holes in the security new, and some drones outright collided with each other in simulations.
Zuriel had to figure out a way to streamline how the Drones talked to each other and to the CIC itself, sadly he was not a science officer and his own experience in the field was rather limited. Seeing no other option Zuriel decided to get some help from around the station, he already had ops on the way to his office, another officer would not hurt. "Commander Soreka to Lieutenant T'Prina please make you way to my office, deck 38 Control Information Center, I require your expertise on a project."=/\=
T'Prina was in a bit of trouble, Zuriel didn't know the specifics but he knew her helping in CIC would be more eventful than any punishment she may be serving ta the moment. Zuriel got back to planning battle programs while he waited for the other crewmen to join him.

[Mykel Kristoffer]

~ Main Promenade
Deck 226 ~

First day on the job.

Prepared? Yes and no, Mykel admitted to himself.

Better than 70% of the training he'd received at Starfleet Academy was centered around Security procedures and protocol as they related to life aboard a Federation starship. As he was swiftly finding out, things were done markedly different on a starbase.

Not so much with the Roster Call, as it was refered to here. The Á¢â,¬Ëœbeginning of shift roll call and assignment session'. It was handled, oddly enough, like some of the old police procedural vids he and his brother had grown up watching as kids. The one hundred or so S.O.'s of Alpha Shift were gathered in an amphitheater style classroom of Deck 240 where, after computer-scanned attendance was taken, the Senior Security Officer went over activities on the base. . .current and not-so-current, gave S.O.'s in specific sectors information crucial to their respective areas, and then handed out the day's assignments.

Mykel, as one of seven cadets, was assigned to an experienced security officer who would act as both partner and T.O.Á¢â,¬"Á¢â,¬"œTraining Officer.

The S.O.'s, and again, unlike duty on a starship, were given a sector to patrol. Like the police officers of Old Earth, they would Á¢â,¬Ëœwalk a beat'. In this case, the Main Promenade.

"So. . .are you ready for your first day on Á¢â,¬Ëœthe Walk'?" his partner, a lanky, red-haired, Martian-born Human who introduced herself as Cena O'Dell, asked as the exite the turbo-lift on Deck 226.

"The Walk?"

"It's what we in Security call it," Cena answered. "Our little area of operation Á¢â,¬"œ the Beat, the Stroll. . .the Walk."

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," Mykel replied.

[Maxine Dainshire]

[Counselor's Office]

Maxine rubbed her eyes and yawned. She'd been reading crew records for 2 hours and making notes. Her coffee ran out in the first hour and she was feeing it. She put aside her PADD and stood up to stretch. She did miss the sunlight, and made a note to get a simulator installed. It wasn't the real thing, but it helped. Both with her mood and physical well-being. She headed toward the replicator to get a glass of water, but her door chimed and her heart leaped in her chest. A potential patient, or someone dropping off a PADD she had to sign? There was only one way to find out.

"Come!" she said. The door slid open and a lieutenant looked up at her. He was tall with long hair and his eyes bespoke a weariness she had seen before. He had lost someone.

"Please come in and have a seat."

Zuriel was not a fan of getting his head looked at, but it was a condition upon getting his commission back if Admiral Kirok would give him the go ahead; his own wife was a big supporter, as well. Rejoining the fleet meant a lot to the El-Aurian, so he would give the entire ordeal and the counselor herself his full attention. After being welcomed in, Zuriel gave the woman a pleasant smile. The room was as he feared, immeasurably inviting, and it smelled nice too; the treachery of Starfleet medical knew no bounds. "Hello, I'm Lt.Cmdr Zuriel Soreka. I believe I'm here for an appointment?" Walking in a bit further, he stopped and waited for a reply.

"I'm Maxine Dainshire. Nice to meet you, but I don't remem--"

"Cadet Dainshire, you have an appointment at 1400 hours," the computer said.

"Ah. I'll have to work on the appointment system. Please sit." She sat in a chair in front of her desk and motioned to the commander to sit opposite. "What seems to be the issue?"

"Issue?" Zuriel almost laughed, no one wanted to admit they had issues, least of all a man like himself, but to fix a problem, you first had to admit you had one. "Well I've been told by our superiors, and by my wife that I've been through hardships, and it would benefit me to hash them out with someone, but if I am completely honest, if I don't meet with you, I lose my commission." Zuriel admitted like a kid in detention.

"Not that I don't respect what you're doing, I've just felt I had to deal with this on my own." He sat down finally in front of the woman. "And so here I am."

"Well, I'm glad you came, regardless of the reason. Some people need more...encouragement than others. So welcome." She leaned forward to help persuade him to open up. "So, these hardships, what do they involve? Have you lost fellow crew? Have you had to do something awful and it weighs on your heart? You're not alone, commander. But please, tell me in your own words."

"I know I'm not alone, but there are many things I have had to do alone, since the cats out of the bag so to speak I will be frank in light of patient privilege, "I was a member of section 31, i've stopped countless threats to what we call home, but at the end of the day I remember, I am El-Aurian, we are gifted and cursed with memory, we can suppress it but..one day I will remember, all the faces, all the lives, taken and saved. One day I will remember." Zuriel said rubbing the hair out of his face.

"I lost my planet and most of my family to the Borg, and even that pales in comparison. My daughters are old enough to understand now, old enough to hate me if they don't understand why I am who I am. Avigail may one day have the clearence to see those files, it is my greatest fear." Zuriel leaned onto his legs, his hands hanging between them.

"If you check the official records some have called me a war hero, but there are days I don't feel like it, there are days I feel like a murderer."

Maxine tried not to gasp at the mention of Section 31. Secrecy swirled around the agency like fog misting the edges of a swamp. There had been rumors...of blackmail, torture, and murder. Genocide even. But she kept her face impassive, as far as she could tell, anyway.

"I can't imagine the pain you'll go through once those memories come flooding back. In fact, it may take some time to recover from, if ever. Tell me, are you able to bring back your memories a bit at a time? That way, we'd be able to address one painful experience at a time instead of 100."

Zuriel nodded in approval, it was worth a shot at least, but separating one hundred seventy seven years of memories would not be an easy task, even for him. "My training in martial arts did not start with section 31, it began with my first wife, it was how we passed the time on El-Auria, being telepaths, and easy and socially acceptable way to hone your mind was to hone your body. She was always the strong one...it was she who they really wanted, even now I could snap a man's mind like a twig if I wished it, but Jhetel was at that level back then." Zuriel closed his eyes now leaning back as he sailed through his sea of memory. She was taken by the Nexus, as a human you know this as the day James T. Kirk Died, my mother I lost to the borg. This was a dark time for all of my people; we had nothing, we all drifted in space after that. That is how I first joined Section 31. The Borg were still entirely unknown to citizens, but we worked in the shadows, collecting as much information as we could, we never entered their space, but we interrogated refugees. We wanted to be ready."

"Let's talk about your mother. That connection is essential and frames a person's personality for the rest of their life. Tell me, how old were you when she passed, and what do you remember about her?"

"Her Name was Adonia, by human definition she would be considered high born, it's not as big a deal as that sounds, we simply had a lot of family members, that's how social status was gauged. She was beautiful and graceful, mostly fair but there is no such thing as perfect parent. Many people in our house did not approve of me being a pilot, but she defended and encouraged me. If it was not for her i'd likely not be where I am. She was the eldest woman of House Amiri, and I was only twenty when I lost her. I can still hear her scream, as she was captured by the Borg, they went for the older ones first." Zuriel said as he poured himself a glass of water, even offering the doctor some as well.

Maxine took the glass and thanked the commander. She took a long sip and closed her eyes, deciding what level of detail the El-Aurian should explore. His mother was likely still alive, with Borg implants. Not a pleasant thought.

"Mothers live to protect their children. If they know they're safe, it's worth any pain they undergo. At least that's how it's been explained to me by mothers. You're here, alive and in your right mind, and have followed your dream of being a pilot. And happily married. She would be extremely proud of you. Do you believe that?"

"I honestly...yes, she always wanted me to chase my dreams, and on a more formal note, she wanted me to get married at least five times." Zuriel said the last part in the stern but caring voice he remembered from his past. "She used to say that to me very frequently, anytime I expressed thoughts of being a player." Zuriel laughed. "But she knew me better than I did, no matter how mysterious I would be, I was never a ladies men. That was my father, honestly if you ever meet him, run away cadet, his work is already half done." For once at least in this somber meeting Zuriel did find cause to chuckle. "But yes, I think she would be proud of me, and I want to always think that."

It was important that Zuriel remembered the good times with his mother; they would be a source of comfort for him. Losing a parent was not something one forgot, even if the relationship was fractured. Fortunately, that was not the case with the commander. Otherwise, she would have twice the work of dealing with both the relationship and death.

"Tell me, do you have dreams about her and if so, what are they about?"

"Honestly, I don't remember the last time I dreamed, but my daughters look very much like her, and sometimes when I close my eyes, I can see my mother rocking my sister in her arms singing the traditional lullaby, presenting her to the rest of the house. She was very traditional but not in a bad way; she taught me how to love," Zuriel said, smiling as he closed his eyes, humming the song under his breath.

Maxine smiled, as even she could picture the scene in her mind. "You paint quite a visceral image of your mother, Zuriel. I wish I could have met her. She sounds like an amazing woman, a trailblazer in her own right. Well, I think we're at a good place. For your homework, I want you to create a tribute to your mother. It can be anything...a poem, song, drawing...it's up to you. Do you have any questions?"

"None at the moment. I think I can manage that, thank you, doctor. This helped more than you know," Zuriel said, actually feeling like part of the weight was lifted. After standing up, he made his way for the door before turning back. "If you have the mind for it you should visit the CIC on deck 38, I could use your help running my department in battle drills, gauge unit cohesion, diagnosing emotional stress, stuff like that. It could be a big help on what I do up there," Zuriel offered.

Maxine raised both eyebrows. "Really? That sounds quite interesting, actually. Thank you." She stood up and walked the commander to the door. "I still have some oversight duties to attend to, but once they're complete, I will come to visit CIC." The door slid open. "And don't forget your homework."

"Lord it's like school all over again. Not to worry, I'll think of something that honors her well. Enjoy the rest of your day doctor." Zuriel exited the room and made his way to the turbolift.

Joint post with--

Zuriel Soreka

[Naira]

[Automat]

"Not me," Stafford told her. "Grew up in coal mining country. It was nothing but rib sticking food and hard work. My first taste of replicated food was at a relative's house in the big city. Pittsburgh. It tasted strange."

He saw two women walking arm in arm towards a table and it's replicator. They ordered together and quickly. They both received a small pot of herbal tea and a plate of toast. A hard working couple. He tried to remember who the women were, but he hadn't met them. With a crew of 50,000 people it was hard to meet everyone.

"These women. Angelika Koehler, Daphne Crane, Domonique Tuveri." The captain told the science officer. "Each met violent ends. The last two were particularly gruesome. It fell to me to tell their families. But it falls to you to prepare the bodies. Angelika has been in stasis for over a month, as she died on an away mission."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get right down to business. It's your first day. Shall we eat?"

"=/\=Pancakes, scrapple, black coffee." He told the machine. His plate twinkled into existence and was scooped into eager hands. The golden brown, yellow rimmed discs of dough were so big they lapped over the edge of the plate. Each was topped with a pat of butter and there were tiny little ramekins of syrup. The scrapple was crispy on the outside and a quick stab with his knife indicated it's mushy center was good and soft. A bit of steam had escaped from it and he quickly sampled it. It was spicy and savory. Satisfied, Stafford sipped some of the strong black coffee and then poured maple syrup on everyone in sight before digging in.

[Automat]

Naira ordered a blended liquid concoction of kelp, lichen, and powdered mealworm while she thought about what the captain had said.

"Is there anything more you can tell me about these women, something that wouldn't be found in their personnel files? Have their families specified any particular religious or cultural practices they would like me to follow while handling their remains?"

She gave her grey-green drink a quick stir before sipping it through a straw. While it may have lacked in the rich flavor and fat complexity so often desired by her Human compatriots, she found it simple and refreshing.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Automat]

Naira ordered a blended liquid concoction of kelp, lichen, and powdered mealworm while she thought about what the captain had said.

"Is there anything more you can tell me about these women, something that wouldn't be found in their personnel files? Have their families specified any particular religious or cultural practices they would like me to follow while handling their remains?"

She gave her grey-green drink a quick stir before sipping it through a straw. While it may have lacked in the rich flavor and fat complexity so often desired by her Human compatriots, she found it simple and refreshing.

[Automat]

At the sight of the woman's much more restrained meal, Stafford coughed self consciously. He was always one to be a tad overzealous with food. He lacked both motivation and discipline to do otherwise. But his philosophy had always been to enjoy today, because tomorrow was not guaranteed.

"Crane was the superstitious one of the lot." The captain told her while he attacked his meal as if were an enemy machine gun nest. "She claimed she was psychic. She was a close friend of our chaplain, Vem, son of Montag. Have you met him? He's...quite a character. I'm afraid I didn't know the others so well."

[Docking Ring]

" Hey there Á¢â,¬ËœApin. Dis' is Vem. Jus' wanted ta' let ya' know Á¢â,¬Ëœdat the Ferengi Commerce Authority is callin' in it's marker and we need to leave the station so our new Ferengi friends here can take it over and do with it as they please. I'll be in the promenade getting the new owners of this station some crunchy beetles. Feel free to join us with the big shiny key and command codes for the station once you've packed yer' things... sir."

[Automat]

Stafford was at a loss for words when he heard Vem's hail. He had reflexively started to tap his commbadge to acknowledge it, but took a few moments to digest the words. Is Vem self medicating again? It wouldn't be the first time. The last time that the Klingon chaplain had said something this bizarre was after he'd gotten into the locked cabinet in the homeopathic medicine shop.

"=/\=Err...Vem, I think I'll go ahead and meet you at the docking ring. My thanks, chaplin." The captain said hesitantly. "=/\=Keep them there and...don't touch anything, no matter how shiny it is."

The captain smiled brightly at Naira.

"As you can see, we keep busy around here and that's how we like it. I'm afraid I have to cut our meet and greet short." Laboriously, Stafford stood and cast a wistful glance at the still full plate of food. "I could use you at the docking ring. An extra pair of eyes never hurt. And I may need you to treat Vem if he's hallucinating again."

[Naira]

[Automat]

At the sight of the woman's much more restrained meal, Stafford coughed self consciously. He was always one to be a tad overzealous with food. He lacked both motivation and discipline to do otherwise. But his philosophy had always been to enjoy today, because tomorrow was not guaranteed.

"Crane was the superstitious one of the lot." The captain told her while he attacked his meal as if were an enemy machine gun nest. "She claimed she was psychic. She was a close friend of our chaplain, Vem, son of Montag. Have you met him? He's...quite a character. I'm afraid I didn't know the others so well."

[Automat]

Stafford was at a loss for words when he heard Vem's hail. He had reflexively started to tap his commbadge to acknowledge it, but took a few moments to digest the words. Is Vem self medicating again? It wouldn't be the first time. The last time that the Klingon chaplain had said something this bizarre was after he'd gotten into the locked cabinet in the homeopathic medicine shop.

"=/\=Err...Vem, I think I'll go ahead and meet you at the docking ring. My thanks, chaplin." The captain said hesitantly. "=/\=Keep them there and...don't touch anything, no matter how shiny it is."

The captain smiled brightly at Naira.

"As you can see, we keep busy around here and that's how we like it. I'm afraid I have to cut our meet and greet short." Laboriously, Stafford stood and cast a wistful glance at the still full plate of food. "I could use you at the docking ring. An extra pair of eyes never hurt. And I may need you to treat Vem if he's hallucinating again."

[Automat]

She continued to sip her drink as she listened to him speak. She had long since learned that such breaks often came few and far between. If she didn't take the opportunity now, it could be hours before she had the chance to eat again.

Naira told herself that she would need to speak with chief medical officer when she got the time to see what his initial reports had to say. She was unsure why she was being called upon to verify his results, but she assumed that perhaps it had to do with the manner in which the individuals died or their families had questioned the results.

Whatever the case may be, the captain had asked her to accompany him in another matter first. She put down her drink and stood to join him. "I'm ready when you are."

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Automat]

Whatever the case may be, the captain had asked her to accompany him in another matter first. She put down her drink and stood to join him. "I'm ready when you are."

[Docking Ring]

When the captain made his entrance he was struck, as he always was, by how such a cavernous area could be so crowded. Deck officers walked about with PADDs as the civilians unloaded or loaded their freighters with cargo. Their goods were either stacked neatly and sorted, but more often than not the shipments were sprawled out haphazardly on the deck. It was a well known regulation to keep cargo neat, but Stafford wasn't about to cut off vital trade with red tape. So long as the food, equipment, and other goods were distributed in a timely manner he wasn't going to raise a stink about it.

He saw Vem standing and chatting with a bunch of Ferengi at the far end of the ring. Laboriously, he limped closer. So the chaplain hadn't been hallucinating. Stafford felt his concern deepen.

"Gentlemen," The captain said when he was close enough. "I see you've met Chaplain Vem. Please say hello to Lieutenant Naira, our new doctor. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

In response, the oldest Ferengi gestured at his cohorts, one of whom slithered forward and handed his leader a long, old fashioned scroll.

"You have the honor of addressing sub-nagus Drega of the Ferengi Commerice Authority." The underling said before scuttling way.

"Sub-nagus, might I know--"

"Captain Luke Stafford," Drega interrupted, unfurling the scroll. "The Ferengi Commerice Authority is hereby calling in its debit taken on by the Federation in the Treaty of Clarus, stardate 56259. The Ferengi Alliance hereby acquires the Starbase Columbus effective immediately. You have a three weeks to hand over operations to myself, including staff."

When Drega was talking Stafford found himself stifling a grin, struggling to keep a professional demeanor. The whole thing was just too ridiculous. The way the other Ferengi were chortling and rubbing their hands together only made his struggle harder. What manner of practical joke had Vem pulled now?

"I would have liked to immediately take up residence in my personal quarters, the Federation Gardens. But it seems you have not seen fit to grant them to me, so we'll begin in your personal office and go from there. I'll be moving my people in--"

"Wait a moment, Drega," Stafford said, holding up a hand. "You can't really expect me to take your word that the Federation owes your people a starbase? My starbase?"

"You want to see the contract. That's the mark of a good businessman. Perhaps we'll keep him on," Drega said to his subordinate, who nodded eagerly and tapped away at a PADD. "Very well. Let us repair to your office. I presume you'll have suitable refreshment on standby?"

"And entertainment!" Rodent-like, another Ferengi was nearly stroking his lobes and eyeing up Naira. "This one will do just fine, captain. You're wise to show off the goods right away!"

[Naira]

[Docking Ring]

When the captain made his entrance he was struck, as he always was, by how such a cavernous area could be so crowded. Deck officers walked about with PADDs as the civilians unloaded or loaded their freighters with cargo. Their goods were either stacked neatly and sorted, but more often than not the shipments were sprawled out haphazardly on the deck. It was a well known regulation to keep cargo neat, but Stafford wasn't about to cut off vital trade with red tape. So long as the food, equipment, and other goods were distributed in a timely manner he wasn't going to raise a stink about it.

He saw Vem standing and chatting with a bunch of Ferengi at the far end of the ring. Laboriously, he limped closer. So the chaplain hadn't been hallucinating. Stafford felt his concern deepen.

"Gentlemen," The captain said when he was close enough. "I see you've met Chaplain Vem. Please say hello to Lieutenant Naira, our new doctor. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

In response, the oldest Ferengi gestured at his cohorts, one of whom slithered forward and handed his leader a long, old fashioned scroll.

"You have the honor of addressing sub-nagus Drega of the Ferengi Commerice Authority." The underling said before scuttling way.

"Sub-nagus, might I know--"

"Captain Luke Stafford," Drega interrupted, unfurling the scroll. "The Ferengi Commerice Authority is hereby calling in its debit taken on by the Federation in the Treaty of Clarus, stardate 56259. The Ferengi Alliance hereby acquires the Starbase Columbus effective immediately. You have a three weeks to hand over operations to myself, including staff."

When Drega was talking Stafford found himself stifling a grin, struggling to keep a professional demeanor. The whole thing was just too ridiculous. The way the other Ferengi were chortling and rubbing their hands together only made his struggle harder. What manner of practical joke had Vem pulled now?

"I would have liked to immediately take up residence in my personal quarters, the Federation Gardens. But it seems you have not seen fit to grant them to me, so we'll begin in your personal office and go from there. I'll be moving my people in--"

"Wait a moment, Drega," Stafford said, holding up a hand. "You can't really expect me to take your word that the Federation owes your people a starbase? My starbase?"

"You want to see the contract. That's the mark of a good businessman. Perhaps we'll keep him on," Drega said to his subordinate, who nodded eagerly and tapped away at a PADD. "Very well. Let us repair to your office. I presume you'll have suitable refreshment on standby?"

"And entertainment!" Rodent-like, another Ferengi was nearly stroking his lobes and eyeing up Naira. "This one will do just fine, captain. You're wise to show off the goods right away!"

[Docking Ring]

In her younger days she might have stooped to the level of telling off the little weasel, but now that she was a respected doctor with a sense of honor and duty to uphold, she had to settle for glaring at the little Ferengi man with all the animosity she could muster. Nevertheless, she was restrained in her anger. She dug her nails into the palms of her clinched fists as she bit her tongue in silence. She breathed through her nose and tried to lower her heart rate. The hunger in the way he looked at her, sickened her stomach.

Don't let them see you sweat, she told herself.

She was no one's source of entertainment.

As hard as she had worked to overcome the stereotype of the eager to please dancing slave girl, it always seemed like there were ten more like these Ferengi men who couldn't see past her green skin. However, she would not let herself be dragged down. If anything, their attitudes only validated her need to push harder and further her own cause.

Later, she would draw upon this experience to reiterate to her daughters that this is how others look at them, this is how many would choose to see them, but this was not what they had to be. Through hard work and dedication they could do whatever they wanted to do and be whoever they wanted to be and maybe, just maybe, one day those with views like the Ferengi would be but a small minority.   

[Daniel Howell]

Engineering - CEO's office
Howell was settling back into engineering and going through diagnostic reports and manifests. It was a job that required absolute concentration, it was his job to ensure that anything that came up on the diagnostics is spotted and rectified, as soon as possible. The lack of a solid command chain in engineering was being demonstrated and Dan had already dispatched at least 3 or 4 teams to things that needed doing, mainly EPS conduit and power relay issues, but thankfully, nothing major.

Just then, an engineering officer entered the room. He looked up to see the Bajoran engineer named Nessik had walked in. "What can I do for you Nessik?" He asked. She replied Sir, I thought you might like to deal with this one youself... she said, pausing to hand him a PADD. Looking down to read it, Nessik continued ...There seems to be a lot of power fluctuations coming from the Docking Ring, it looks like something is overloading one of the Plasma relays in that area, could be to do with the forcefield taking a lot more power for some reason. Howell thought for a second before coming to a conclusion that Nessik's synopsis was quite possible. He replied "Right, grab a couple of engineering kits, your with me to the docking ring." and with that he got up and made his way to the turbolift.

Turbolift entry/exit - near docking bay entrance
Howell and Nessik arrived near the entrance to the docking bay. They weren't aware of any shuttle currently in dock, so it would be quite simple work, carry out a visual inspection to accompany the level 3 diagnostic and then carry out necessary repairs. They walked in and instantly froze at the doors. They had clearly walked into a futile situation, Captain Stafford, Lieutenant JG. Naira and a Ferrengi crew. He looked at Nessik who looked back at him before they looked back to the situation and kept quiet.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Docking Ring]

In her younger days she might have stooped to the level of telling off the little weasel, but now that she was a respected doctor with a sense of honor and duty to uphold, she had to settle for glaring at the little Ferengi man with all the animosity she could muster. Nevertheless, she was restrained in her anger. She dug her nails into the palms of her clinched fists as she bit her tongue in silence. She breathed through her nose and tried to lower her heart rate. The hunger in the way he looked at her, sickened her stomach.

Don't let them see you sweat, she told herself.

She was no one's source of entertainment.

As hard as she had worked to overcome the stereotype of the eager to please dancing slave girl, it always seemed like there were ten more like these Ferengi men who couldn't see past her green skin. However, she would not let herself be dragged down. If anything, their attitudes only validated her need to push harder and further her own cause.

Later, she would draw upon this experience to reiterate to her daughters that this is how others look at them, this is how many would choose to see them, but this was not what they had to be. Through hard work and dedication they could do whatever they wanted to do and be whoever they wanted to be and maybe, just maybe, one day those with views like the Ferengi would be but a small minority.

Engineering - CEO's office
Howell was settling back into engineering and going through diagnostic reports and manifests. It was a job that required absolute concentration, it was his job to ensure that anything that came up on the diagnostics is spotted and rectified, as soon as possible. The lack of a solid command chain in engineering was being demonstrated and Dan had already dispatched at least 3 or 4 teams to things that needed doing, mainly EPS conduit and power relay issues, but thankfully, nothing major.

Just then, an engineering officer entered the room. He looked up to see the Bajoran engineer named Nessik had walked in. "What can I do for you Nessik?" He asked. She replied Sir, I thought you might like to deal with this one youself... she said, pausing to hand him a PADD. Looking down to read it, Nessik continued ...There seems to be a lot of power fluctuations coming from the Docking Ring, it looks like something is overloading one of the Plasma relays in that area, could be to do with the forcefield taking a lot more power for some reason. Howell thought for a second before coming to a conclusion that Nessik's synopsis was quite possible. He replied "Right, grab a couple of engineering kits, your with me to the docking ring." and with that he got up and made his way to the turbolift.

Turbolift entry/exit - near docking bay entrance
Howell and Nessik arrived near the entrance to the docking bay. They weren't aware of any shuttle currently in dock, so it would be quite simple work, carry out a visual inspection to accompany the level 3 diagnostic and then carry out necessary repairs. They walked in and instantly froze at the doors. They had clearly walked into a futile situation, Captain Stafford, Lieutenant JG. Naira and a Ferrengi crew. He looked at Nessik who looked back at him before they looked back to the situation and kept quiet.

[Docking Ring]

Stafford's eyes could be warm and friendly, but right now they were positively aggressive. The greedy little trolls were disrespecting one of his officers to his face. His mouth opened to spit out an angry reprimand.

But then he saw Naira. She was standing expressionless and strong, not reacting. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. The Orion woman was showing a lot more stoicism and maturity than he was about to.

"Sub-nagus, you are invited to my office. Your retinue is not." When they all raised their voices in protest his own boomed out over them. "You fine gentlemen are more than welcome to avail yourselves of the hospitality of the Columbus. As our business has not been concluded I expect you all to respect our rules and regulations."

Drega narrowed his avaricious little eyes.

"Of course, captain. Our takeover of this trading facility will be quicker and smoother than a baby's lobes."

"I'm sure," Stafford said, unsmiling. He waved over an ensign. "See the sub-nagus to my office and that some appropriate refreshments are laid out. Thank you."

Drega quickly departed, his men going in a different direction. Stafford spied Howell and beckoned the other officer.

"Lieutenant Naira, Dan. The Ferengi are here and they claim they now own the Columbus. It's not happening on my watch. Naira, I need you on our unfortunate task of those bodies still. If you like, you and I or you and our new counselor can talk about how those little men just treated you." Stafford was in his element, in command, his voice hard and firm. "Dan, notify all department heads and Tritter of this development. I want everyone on alert. The Ferengi are not taking over our base, not while I'm in command."