S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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A special request

Posted on Thursday March 19th, 2020 @ 22:01 hours by Mayterial Droz & Gregory Alein

Mission: Safe Passage
Location: Starbase 32, Promenade

"I don't think you understand. I need somewhere to plug it in, but I don't want any of your grubby Engineer's hands on it. It's a very delicate piece of tech and I can't afford it to be meddled with." The man was positively exasperated, he didn't know what to do, he wanted to get back into core Fed territory but all the vessels going there were too nosy about the contents of his personal cargo.

The man across from him was rather burly, bald-headed, it was kind of difficult to see that he was indeed a Romulan. The pointed ears were subtle and he lacked the ridges of a northerner, "I don't think you understand, mister Hirral. If we take something on board that has to be plugged into the power grid, we need to know what it is so that it complies with Federation code."

"I told you what it is, I can show you the design specifications, and a Federation authentication document, I'm just asking you to plug it in myself. It won't even take up much of your ship's capacity and I will more than compensate you for the costs of operating it. What more do you want?"

"I want my Engineer to verify the fact that it doesn't pose a risk to the vessel, the crew, or any other passengers."

The man bartering for passage made a throw-away motion with his hands and stepped towards the bulletin board in the middle of the promenade again, looking for other vessels offering passage towards the core planets. He ran his hand through the mess of hair on his head and started to scan the contents of the list with his eyes.

From the far side of the corridor, it was hard not to notice the exchange. Sure, it was a common occurrence, passengers not happy with their accommodations but most just took it in stride. The man had made such a scene that he was making himself stand out, and that was something you didn't see. Most people, on this particular station, did their best to blend in. It was most people came to the station, short of the Federation personal assigned here. Greg took note of the man, he seemed intent on find transport, and that was the first step.

He approached the man from the left side, "trouble with the Romulans," he asked attempting a bit of small talk first?

"For the past ten years," Hirral sighed before focusing back on the bulletin board, he needed to find a freighter, not a shuttle service. Perhaps that was easier with the regulations, "they're only sticklers to rules if it's in their interest. And you can never get a straight answer out of them." The Trill man seemed tired, mentally even more so than physically.

"Any freighter is going to have its rules," Greg replied, "especially if their Captain is worth anything. That ship is their life, and sometimes closer than most family." Greg leaned up against the board, "tell me Sir," he asked, "what is so special about your cargo and what are you looking for exactly?" Greg wasn't about to give anything away just yet, he needed to knew more The man had been turned away by a few people now, and in Greg's mind, there was a reason for that. He had to make sure that he was doing the right thing, first.

"It's very sensitive equipment, I don't want anyone's unqualified Engineer poking around messing it up," the man sighed a bit and turned to the guy that kept engaging him, "it needs to be plugged into the power grid, it only takes minimal energy to run on standby. I don't think that's too much to ask." He then pulled a PADD from his pocket and called up the display to show his credentials, "and I have the necessary paperwork, so there's zero risk."

"If you only had an idea of how many conversations started with the phrase there will be zero risk," Greg replied, more thinking out loud. "If that was the case, I am not sure I'd be here right now." Greg looked over the paperwork, credentials, and specs of the readout. The man was correct it was all in order. No doubt the strange was in the man's people skills; he didn't appear to have any. "I can't speak for the Captain's rates, I am fairly new to the ship. But I know my Captain is looking for passengers, cargo runs,... well whatever puts some coin in her purse. As to unqualified Engineers, I am not sure I'd use that phrase."

"Look, I'm not really in the mood for being lectured," Hirral sighed and took the PADD back, "I need to get in the direction of Risa, you heading that way or not?"

Greg wasn't too pleased with the man's attitude and frankly, he was starting to see why he had so much trouble securing transport. He opted to push his luck just a bit, "where we are heading isn't any of your business, yet. Frankly Sir," he paused, "as long as you want to travel on my ship you'll get whatever lecture I damn well see fit to give if it involves the lives of the crew. Now, you wanna treat this civilized, or stand here staring at the bulletin board longer, your choice..." Greg turned and started to walk off. He was half tempted to leave the poor man there but knew that the man looked desperate. There was something in his eyes that side, he wouldn't be standing at the board too long. Greg hoped.

Hirral cussed under his breath, he really needed transport, away from this Starfleet facility, and with that in mind, he knew that this was his best chance to get away from here, "Hey. Wait. Hold up." He rushed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, "What do you need?"

"Get your stuff together, have your schematics ready, and meet the Fawkes at airlock 6," Greg stated. "I can offer you a good ship, a comfortable bed, and travel.. Engineering and such will have to go through the proper channels." He nodded, "but I am sure that we can take care of you and get you to Risa."

"Alright" Hirral responded through somewhat gritted teeth, "I'll be there in an hour." With that, he took off in the opposite direction.

Greg sighed and couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten his crew in to. The man seemed desperate enough, that perhaps he would be workable. But even the First Mate knew that was going to be a stretch. The man appeared arrogant, unorthodox, and impossible; he was new to the Fawkes but he hoped this was standard for the passengers who flew in this situation.


Greg Alein
First Mate


Hirral Furx

S.S. Fawkes


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