Starcharts Ahoy!

Posted on Wed Dec 27th, 2017 @ 5:06pm by Chief Warrant Officer Daytona Ral & Captain Enalia Telvan & Lieutenant Commander T'Pral Jordan & Staff Warrant Officer Nexi

Mission: When Iconians Deserve to Die
Location: Tortuga Station
Timeline: Current

The Hera was still in stealth mode and hiding in a hopefully empty gaseous part of the space near Tortuga station as the away team launched that was supposed to retrieve the starcharts and pirate maps. As the Wandering Star flew a bit further from the Hera, even any visual indicators that the ship was there vanished completely. The only way they would find their way back now would be physically remembering their coordinates.

Nexi skillfully guided the Wandering Star through the tumultuous space that protected the old Cardassian station. Having once been a Collector for the Ferengi Commerce Association, she had intimate knowledge of bases just like this under the FCA's authority as she often came to these locations to do business. She was no longer a Collector, but she kept a foot in the pond so to speak, knowing that such contacts would be useful in times such as these. It had been a while since she had been to Tortuga, even longer since the Hera had been swallowed up by a temporal anomaly which then sent them back to their own time albeit displaced by 5 years; 5 years had been deemed an acceptable offset, which Nexi found had given her a chance for a somewhat fresh start with her decision to Enlist; but even with the 5 year displacement, she knew this place, knew how to safely navigate her shuttle through the dangerous cloud that protected the station. Her newly renovated shuttle... Nexi hated to admit when she was wrong, but the crew who had worked to repair the damage Demon Enalia had done, they did one hell of a job patching the 'Star up, she was flying so smoothly! She still felt somewhat violated that strangers had been all up in her space; the Wandering Star didn't feel like hers anymore, but at the very least they had a safe means of getting to the station without any ties to the Hera. Sure, the 'Star was still technically a Federation runabout, but it had been decommissioned years ago, and all the aftermarket modifications she had put into this old girl made it clear that the 'Star did not fly under the Federation flag.

"Tortuga, this is the Wandering Star requesting clearance to dock," Nexi said in Ferengi over the comms as the station finally came into view. For a long while, there was silence, so she checked that she was broadcasting on the right channel, then repeated the request.

"Tortuga Port Authority to Wandering Star, state your business." came the gruff reply, also in Ferengi but the Universal Translator had no trouble dismantling it into Starfleet Standard English.

Well this was new... Nexi never had to state her reasons for being here before!

"Not here to cause trouble... again... Just stopping to resupply, that's all," Nexi tried to assure the annoying Ferengi preventing her from docking.

"See that you stay out of trouble, Nexi! Your boss has been in a foul mood lately, I do not want to be the messenger that has to tell him that you damaged another station on one of your hunts!" the Port Authority Ferengi replied. "You are cleared for bay 12"

Nexi was glad that the cockpit only held one station and that the only view her companions would have of her would be the back of her head, because her eyes were bugging out of her head! She quickly shut off the internal Universal Translator from the ship, hoping that the personal comm insignia her companions were wearing wouldn't pick up enough to translate.

"Grek's not on the station, is he?" Nexi asked as she adjusted the shuttle's trajectory to take them around to bay 12 of the docking ring.

"No, it's your lucky day, he's still on Ferenginar. Why, you're not avoiding him, are you?" came the suspicious reply.

"No, not at all.... But in case I was, how much latinum would it take to ensure your silence?" Nexi asked.

"Are you asking for just my silence or falsified docking registration as well?"

"Look, I don't have time for this, I'd like to land, just name your price and I'll transfer the funds!" Nexi spat back, trying to focus on docking the 'Star. Her console chirped as she was sent the bill, and Nexi grumbled under her breath then authorized the transfer of funds.

"Pleasure doing business with you, as always," said the now rather smug Ferengi.

"Yeah, I bet..." Nexi grumbled, then shut off the comm channel, scowling as she finally brought the Wandering Star around to dock, gliding through the atmospheric force field and landing gently on the landing pad. "Alright, we're good to go," Nexi said to her team as she began to shut down and secure the Wandering Star, no longer speaking in Ferengi.

Daytona moved up behind Nexi and leaned in towards her.

"He referred to Grek as your boss, Nexi," Daytona said softly. "I thought you were clear of that bastard."

"Shit, forgot you knew Ferengi...." Nexi muttered under her breath, then carefully considered her answer. "I'm still a Collector, I'm just freelance now. Even though I severed ties with him, it's not like I broadcast that I left, so anyone who knew me in the FCA might assume I still answer to him. Woulda taken too long to explain to Port Authority that I was independent, and I'd still have to pay him off anyway since I don't wanna catch Grek's attention," she explained. "Just 'cause I'm free of him don't mean he can't still cause trouble for us."

"I know just enough to follow the gist of that conversation," Daytona said. Then he grinned. "I guess I'm safe, though. Pretty sure I don't owe Grek any money, or anything else for that matter. No matter. You're Starfleet now. Your problems are our problems. We've got your back."

"I know," Nexi replied, then shut down the custom Ferengi consoles that replaced the standard LCARS interfaces. "Let's get this done, I don't wanna linger too long," she said, then grabbed her weapon holsters, and as she rose from the cockpit chair she slung the belt around her waist, right over the other belt that was holding back the progression of the black blood. She nodded to Nate and T'Pral as she passed them in their stations in the forward compartment, then led them back through the modified living quarters and then the cargo bay modified with two holding cells.

"Now the idea is to avoid trouble while we're here, but if trouble happens to find you and you need to hide out for any reason, then get back to the 'Star; I've added your bio-signatures to the locks, she'll let you in if you find yourself alone and in trouble, she'll keep you safe. Try to avoid getting stuck in a situation where you need a beam out; the station has transport inhibitors, and while I know the frequencies well enough to get one transport out if it's absolutely necessary, we'll only get one shot before they change the frequencies," Nexi reminded the team as the rear hatch slowly lowered.

"Thank you, Officer Nexi," Nathan said after listening to the Warrant Officer's treatise on the particulars on the station's defenses. Nathan picked up his gear and attached it to his black form-fitting pantsuit's belt and holstered his weapon and tricorder. He was also bringing a device he had acquired from the Cardassians; an iso-moleculor probe. He imagined that would come in handy for assisting Warrant Officer Nexi's condition. He made a mental note to give their new CMO the device once he had a change to speak with her in private.

"That's enough rank use," Daytona said. "Given names only from here on out. Those giant Ferengi ears are more than just grotesque, they're functional. If we use anyone's rank they'll pick it up, as will any other race a good set of ears. No rank, no last names, no sirs or ma'ams. T'Pral, you're in charge. Any last minute instructions for us?"

T'Pral wasn't amused by Nexi at the moment. They hadn't even landed and there had already been a complication due to her presence.. Though it was resolved rather easily, it still bothered her. "Just be careful and alert," she said, standing from her seat.

Nathan sat back down and asked a stupid question, "If we're unable to be armed are we allowed to bring anything Starfleet on board this station? I mean if I'm to detect falsified starcharts, I'm going to need to bring my tricorder with me, correct?"

As the rear hatch finished lowering, a clothed female Ferengi greeted them with a PaDD and a collections box. "I have to wonder why rank use is suddenly taboo, but I'm only here to either tell you to leave your weapons on your ship or pay me a... Registration fee..." The nasal voiced Ferengi woman glanced at her PaDD for a moment. "I see you're registered as the Latinum Lumps and you're Captain Aria of the Ferengi Collection Commission. Unfortunately, your esteemed selves will not be able to get out of the full bri... Err.. Registration..." Holding up the collection box, she shook it. "One latinum strip per weapon please."

A clothed female Ferengi, Daytona thought. How lewd.

Daytona reached into a pocket, pulled out three strips of latinum, and slipped them into the box. He'd be damned if he was going to make Nexi pay his way. Besides, in addition to his own funds, he had a secret expense account with SFI. He could afford this.

Latinum Lumps?! What an unimaginative dumbass to come up with a name like that! As a registered Collector, technically Nexi was one of the very few people authorized to carry weapons on the station, but since she and her ship were also under a false port registration, she couldn't very well flash her legit ID with the FCA, so paying the 'fee' this one time was necessary. But fortunately for her, she was actually travelling light, armed only with her original pike staff and a few knives, but she only pulled out a single strip of latinum as only the pike was visible. Then she looked to Nate and T'Pral to see if they could handle the fee or if she would have to cover the fee for them.

T'Pral looked the smaller, pudgy ferengi female over in disgust. She always wondered how such a species became warp capable if they only cared for monetary gains. 'Likely stole plans for a warp engine from someone,' she thought. She had the collapsible energy Lurpa slung across her back as she produced one strip of latinum.

After Nexi chipped in another strip of latinum for Nate's weapon, the Ferengi was appeased and sent them on their way.

A bit later they were walking through the station proper.

"Alright, Nexi," Daytona said. "Where to?"

"Up," Nexi said as she glanced around for a lift. "He operates out of other businesses, last known was a store just off the main concourse of the business section, but even if the store is still there, no guarantee this squirrely bastard will be, so be ready to do some walking," Nexi cautioned.

Daytona also looked about for a lift. He scanned with his eyes and ears for potential threats. Everyone on the station, the Hera's Away Team included, qualified as a 'suspicious character'. Daytona mostly kept his eye out for people who seemed to be taking an undue interest in the team. He found no one, but he did see a lift.

"On the right," he said. "Next to that vendor who appears to be selling some kind of live insect swimming in what smells like Terran barbecue sauce from here."

"Yeah, don't eat that, the sauce is disgusting," Nexi said as she took his cue and headed for the lift.

"I am certain that even if we do not find him at the store, someone there, such as an employee would know where to look for him," T'Pral commented.

"We just have to get them to tell us," Daytona said. They arrived at the lift and Daytona pressed the button to summon it. Even though he knew he would regret doing so, Daytona peeked over at the 'totally unbarbecued insects in barbecue sauce' vendor and tried his best not to retch. Even the thought of eating live food made him ill, even more so if it crawled around on multiple legs or slithered. When the lift arrived, Daytona held the door open with his hand and indicated that the others should board first. Once everyone was aboard, he stepped in after them.

"You are not going to vomit, are you?" T'Pral asked Daytona with a raised eyebrow as she looked the man over.

Nexi snickered. "That would be a sight to see," she said as they loaded in and the lift began to ascend. Nexi, of course, had grown up on typical Ferengi fare, so live grubs was nothing new to her, but she also knew that not everyone could find them palatable, not that she liked them all that much either. "Never could stand eating live grubs; they taste better than the dead ones, but all the wriggling, and the squish when you chew, the really big ones kinda pop in your mouth," she described with a grin in an attempt to induce the urge to vomit, it not in Daytona then maybe in little newbie Nate.

Daytona shuddered.

"I'm aware," he said. "How do you think I came to hate squirmy, crawly, wriggly food? I've had to eat it once or twice."

A before barely noticeable hooded Andorian figure already in the lift spoke up at that moment to offer some helpful advice. "A word of advice then... Since you all look... And smell... Like you just stepped out of a sonic shower. Stay away from the Klingon restaurant. She's probably the most honest cook here now, but all her food is served live. If you want something cooked, I'd recommend Skeevy's place. Fewer thieves but mind what you say - Skeevy also has more holo-recorders than station security."

Daytona turned to face the Andorian. His eyes narrowed.

"You sneaked up on me," he said. "Congratulations. That's not easy to do. You seem to know a lot about this place. We're looking for someone. Nexi, tell the man who we're looking for. He looks like the helpful sort. I'm sure he wouldn't mind pointing us in the right direction."

"Formad," Nexi said simply, pausing to gauge the Andorian's reaction to the name. "I know at one time he operated out of Jukar's shop; he still there?"

The Andorian pursed his lips in thought for a moment before replying in a rather hushed tone. "Formad is still there... And he's still dealing in information. It's his shop now, since Jukar's timely demise at the hands of the station commander's chief enforcer. Don't buy anything but information from him though. Everything he has is marked by the Andorian Imperial Guard or the Klingon High Command."

Nexi responded with a laugh. "Ha! So he's trying his hand at a 'legitimate' business by selling stolen goods, that sounds about right..." Nexi said with amusement. "Sad to hear about Jukar though, he really knew how to pitch a sale and haggle." It was at that point that the lift came to a stop. "Hey, thanks for the tip," Nexi said to the Andorian, reaching into her pocket for a favor token and tossing it to the man as she and the team filed out of the lift; the token offered one time access to an encrypted communications channel she used for arranging jobs so he could reach her if ever there was need, which she offered in payment of the information and discretion because it all came at a price...

Catching the token, the Andorian nodded thankfully and offered one more thing before the lift door closed. "If we ever meet again, my name is Shran, by the way. It was a pleasure."

After the lift door closed and the four were left on the main promenade ring, the bustle of activity was there, but somewhat subdued. Dim red and gold lighting filtered from random working systems and neon colors came from the various shops to try and entice customers. A still working map terminal was blasting some ad for a bar not far away and the sounds of several more bars could be heard in the distance. On the upper level there was the sudden sound of a disruptor being fired and the bodies of three pirates fell over the rails to hit the lower deck. Up top, several of what appeared to be the local constabulary leaned over to check and make sure the deed was done and holstered their weapons. Scavengers were quick to strip and 'dispose' of the bodies.

"Rather barbaric," T'Pral commented, watching the scene unfold before her. Yet a part of her recognized the efficiency of the bodies being removed. On a Starfleet Starbase, the bodies would have remained at least until the preliminary examination of the scene and bodies were conducted before being transported to the morgue and then painstakingly inventory their belongings.

"Taking notes, T'Pral?" Daytona said. "Are we going to see some changes in security procedures from here on out?"

"Although barbaric, their ways are efficient," T'Pral confessed. "Yet it is against Starfleet regulations to remove a deceased person without first fully documenting the scene--a very time consuming task."

"With internal sensors and what-not, you'd think it wouldn't take so long," Nexi remarked as she led the team along through the shopping concourse. It was odd being back in a place like this where she had once belonged, walking amongst people she had once been like... It was familiar yet oddly alien to her; she had changed so much over the last year that this life no longer held the appeal that it once did. Taking a corridor to another section of the ring, she pointed out the shop they were headed for, a storefront littered with all sorts of luxury items from all over the quadrant.

"There it is," Nexi said to her team. "So how do we want to do this? We can do it my way way and shake him down, or we can do it the Starfleet way and risk getting turned down if we haggle for what we want," she offered.

"I vote haggle," Daytona said. "And if he doesn't go for it, then we shake him down. What do you think T'Pral?"

T'Pral knew that the Starfleet way didn't always work, they weren't in Starfleet jurisdiction, and though the thought at the moment left a rather bad taste in her mouth, she had to agree with Nexi. "I must agree with Nexi's plan as she knows the place best."

Nexi thought for a moment before finally nodding. "I'll just wing it, see how it goes," Nexi finally stated; after all, they may get lucky! With this in mind, Nexi strode into the establishment, whistling an old Andorian tune as she 'admired' the ill-gotten goods, watching and waiting for Formad to show himself.

Formad wasn't one to disappoint, quickly coming out of the back of the shop. "Hello, honored customers! What can I interest you in today? Selerian crystals? Doraxian flame-silk worms? Or perhaps the latest in illicit holo-porn? I just got in a copy of Vulcan Sex Slave Seventeen. An instant classic, to be sure."

"No, a classic would be the sequel to the original Vulcan Sex Slave, the Revenge of the Temple. If you could score something like that, then I would be impressed," Nexi stated as she casually browsed his wares, reaching into her jacket pocket for a platinum token. "But for now I'm interested in some starcharts; you got any for the Nightmarelands?"

Narrowing his eyes, Formad was instantly on guard. "I might know where you can get a copy... It depends on who's doing the asking... And for how much..."

"The who I would like to remain... vague... As for the price-" Nexi began rolling a favor coin over the back of her fingers. "I can work in favors or credits, take your pick."

"I prefer only latinum, if that's the case. Up front." Formad didn't have many honorable traits, but this was one semblance of one he stuck to - always trade in usable currency.

Nexi flicked the favor coin into the air, then caught it and tucked it back into her pocket with her trademark smirk. "Latinum I can do; now how much?" Nexi asked. She then picking up a vase from a shelf and began to look it over.

"Twenty bricks," Formad proclaimed, not even batting an eyelash. "...of gold pressed latinum."

Nexi chuckled. "I don't think everything in this store combined would be worth that much," Nexi said, carefully replacing the vase. With purpose, she strode over to Formad, drawing her pike and extending the staff with a well practiced flick of her wrist. She came to a stop right in front of the man, resting the back of the blade over her shoulder. "Do you take me for some kind of witless fool?" she asked in a chilly tone.

Formad pulled open his coat to expose enough explosives on him to remove his whole shop from the station. "No. Neither are the Andorian Imperial Guard, Federation, Artan Pirate Hunters, Lagashi Navy, or anyone else looking to wipe out anyone hiding in there. You want starcharts of the nightmarelands, prove you're one of us first."

Nexi grinned. "Mayonnaise..." she said simply, as if that was all the proof she needed. Outside of her work as a Collector, she had done work as mercenary, thief, bounty hunter, and any other number of odd jobs for the seedier side of the galaxy; very few knew her name, but her calling card, the defacement of property using mayonnaise, was quite memorable, and her skills had become something of a legend since her sudden disappearance 5 years ago.

Formad's eyes narrowed a bit more as he pursed his lips in thought. He'd heard brief rumors of someone just referred to as 'The Mayo Merc' - some sort of merc that defaced priceless heirlooms when they were hired to steal things like teacups. Was this the same person? "If you're The Mayo Merc... That might get you some clout in the taverns. In here, I'll be watching you closer. I also have a guess or two at who hired you for that last piece of work. After all, few people in the galaxy collect that many of them..."

"Shh," Nexi shushed playfully with a finger to her lips. "Now that we have an understanding, perhaps it's time to be a little more reasonable about the price? And I really hope so, because I would hate to see the Andorians or the Klingons come trampling through this place."

Grumbling a bit, Formad relented, making sure his coat was closed back up tight. "Fine... Twenty bars. That's the same price I charged the station commander. No transponder codes though."

Nexi scoffed, but in the end she collapsed her pike and resheathed it. "Twenty bars is acceptable- wait, you sold the charts to the station commander? What does he want with the charts?" This could prove to be problematic...

"I might not have asked that of him, you know? He is a pirate lord, after all." Formad replied with a lopsided grin. He knew exactly why, but if he didn't get paid for that information, he wasn't about to share it.

"But you do know, don't you," Nexi replied, answering his grin with one of her own. She reached into her jacket for her Ferengi datapad and began to key in the asking price, plus a rather sizable tip. Once she was done, she handed the device to Formad so he could enter the information for the account he wanted the funds transferred to. "The bonus is for your discretion, and I can toss in a little extra if you're willing to tell me why Zan Shorzen wants to go into the Nightmarelands." So he wouldn't be getting the twenty bricks he originally asked for, but the bonuses she offered were nothing to scoff at.

Formad punched in his details and nodded, handing the datapad back and pulling out one of his own to confirm the funds were transferred. As soon as he did, he pulled out a data rod case and handed it over. "Some Vulcan researcher hired him and his goons to go in there and expand these starcharts nd drop sensor buoys here and there for some sort of medical research. Something about the greatest panacea from the greatest storms or some BS. Joke was on him, because the Commander got his latinum but the Vulcan died before he got his data. Thanks to him, we have all sorts of hidey holes in there, including a few nearly inhospitable planetoids the Commander's got safe houses on. Not the best view, but if you need to lay low for a few years..."

Formad was useful, no wonder Zan Shorzen didn't like him. "No kidding," Nexi said with a grin, taking the data rod case and setting it on a counter to open it. "You don't mind if I have someone verify the data before I leave? After all, it would be a shame for me to have to return to the station and turn your shop inside out over something like a simple mistake."

"Be my guest. There's a station terminal just outside, though I'd recommend not using it. I have a few Starfleet and Klingon tricorders I could sell you... Top quality..." Formad began to offer with a grin.

Daytona nudged Nathan with his elbow.

"That's your cue, young man," Daytona said. He didn't bother to whisper. The only person in the room who had better hearing that he did was was Formad with his gigantic ears. Whispering in the shop was a pointless endeavor. "And you'd better get it right this time. Madame Mayonaise, Princess of Condiments doesn't suffer fools!"

Nexi smirked when she heard the title Daytona had given her. "See, he gets it," Nexi pointed out to Formad, then she leaned against the counter while she waited for Nate to do his thing. "No need for new hardware, I came prepared. Anyway, I'm really glad I decided not to immediately toss your shop; I heard you were a crazy bastard, but wearing explosives?" Nexi issues a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Then again, I shouldn't be surprised... If I lived here I'd probably do it too."

"These days, you have to just to make a living," Formad complained as he moved around behind the counter and looked for something. Then with a sort of joy, he reached down and plucked out a multi-faceted palm sized device with like twenty legs on it that had been smashed pretty well. "I found this little spy holo imager taking images of me in my restroom, of all places. Can you imagine it? While my pants were down! The spies you find on this station are insane sometimes, I tell you!"

That little beauty immediately had Nexi's attention. She stood straight and picked up the little device to give it a good look; there was definitely something familiar about this design... "Hey, you mind if I take this?" Nexi asked as she turned the device over in her hands. "These little guys would be useful in your shop, so you let me have this one and if we can figure out how to exploit 'em then I'll tell you how do it."

"Either that or how to keep them out. I've seen three others but couldn't catch them. Don't even know whose they are..." Formad nodded and waved off the tiny spy robot. "I've gotten all I can out of it anyway. The internal circuitry self destructed."

T'Pral found the exchange between Nexi and Formad rather interesting and somewhat amusing. "Why not simply use a small EMP device to eliminate any of these remaining spy bots from your shop? Or if you have the knowledge, create a spy hunting robot of your own," she suggested.

"I've tried and the only thing that's worked so far is the heel of my boot," Formad replied dryly.

"Yeah, I think we can figure out something a little better than the heel of a boot," Nexi said with a chuckle, then tucked the little device into her jacket pocket.

Meanwhile, Nathan confirmed the star charts were good, came back into the store, and whispered the results to T'Pral.

"The star charts appear to be valid. Thank you for your services," T'Pral said with a slight bow. She then looked at Ral and Nexi. "We appear to be done here."

"That's it then," Daytona said to Nexi. "Lady Miracle Whip, if you're all done here, I believe it's time to go."

"A-yup," Nexi replied as she left a favor coin on the counter top; she had been generous today, but it had well worth it with all the information they had received today! "If you see anymore of that tech or notice a change in its behavior, give me a call, I'll be sure to make it worth your while." Then she collected the case with the data rods and pushed off of the counter. Today was a good day.