One way ticket
Posted on Thursday February 7th, 2019 @ 19:09 hours by Mayterial Droz & Langar Tarn
Mission:
Smugglers Need Not Apply
Location: Docking Pylon 13
Timeline: Prior to 'Ready for Launch'
1662 words - 3.3 OF Standard Post Measure
[ON]
[Captain Karlen Lisara’s Quarter’s Bajoran Merchant Ship Karlen Island Starbase 72, Docking Ring]
“Because Mendec’s a fool, he came back aboard drunk again and just like last time, he could have got us all thrown in a detention cell!”
“Ok but that didn’t happen Tarn” Karlen said soothingly to her Bosun and current lover “Come back to bed, I’ll talk to my brother again in the morning”
Langar Tarn was sat on the end of Karlen’s bed putting his underwear back on. Just over forty, Langar was a tall muscular and tanned Bajoran. His dark brown hair cropped short, he turned and looked back over his shoulder at Karlen with his clear blue eyes. “You said that after DS Nine Lisara. Nothing’s changed”
Karlen leant forward and stroked her hands over Langar’s back, tracing the line of a number of scars with her finger tips. “Mendec drinks too much. I’ll talk to him. It won’t happen again, ok”
Her hand ran down his left shoulder and arm, over a large tattoo of a Bajoran python. If you looked closely and knew what to look for, you could just make out the markings of a Romulan penal barcode under the snake tattoo.
Langar shook his head and reached for his shirt “It will happen again Lisara, we both know that! It’s okay for you and Mendec, your father was a Resistance Hero, you've had Federation contracts before. You guys don’t have a bunch of outstanding warrants. But every time he gets drunk and starts a fight then Security or Constables or Peacekeepers come around and start asking questions. If they push things, you guys will get a fine but I’ll end up in prison!”
He shook Karlen’s hands off, pulled on his pant and stood up. “Look, I really don’t want to looking over my shoulder every time we go to a bar” he hesitated. “But…..”
He had been the Karlen Island’s Bosun for nearly eighteen months. The ship had got a Federation contract to run medical supplies to worlds along the Neutral Zone who were coping with an influx of refugees from the Hobus disaster.
Langar had been a refugee himself, of sorts. After a contract to steal a Romulan warship had gone south he’d ended up with a death sentence from his former criminal employers who had not wanted anyone around to testify to their involvement. He managed to avoid getting himself killed and exacted a little revenge on his would be killers. Stuck on the wrong side of the Neutral Zone he had ended up in the Romulan penal system as an illegal immigrant assigned to a labour crew in a ship maintenance facility.
When Hobus went supernova the facility had been abandoned. The Romulans had brought their prisoners along, intending to find further work for them. Langar and other inmates had different ideas and escaped. While hanging around the spaceport of a refugee camp he had met Karlen and convinced her to give him a job. Five months later they had become lovers and he had the kind of stable life he had not experienced for many years.
After the supply runs they had gone through the Temple wormhole and out to New Bajor. Things had gone well while out in the Gamma Quadrant, until the ship had returned back to Bajor, where the hard working, hard playing, hard drinking crew and in particular the exploits of Mendec, the Engineer and Lisara’s brother had started to bring Langar unwanted attention. Now at another Starbase, This one Federation, things had not improved and Langar was facing up to having to move on.
“But what?” Karlsen asked, sitting back, concerned now
“I can’t stay here” Langar said quietly “It’s too dangerous.”
“Oh…” Karlsen opened her mouth to say more, then closed it. Merchant starship captains had a reputation for being tough, she was no exception. “Alright, I’ll pay you ‘til the end of the week. Close the door on your way out”
[Pocking Pylon 13: SS Fawkes Main hatch ]
Four days later Langar found his way to Docking Pylon Thirteen and the main hatch of a battered Groumall type starship. He’d hung around the bars and recruitment offices of the starport and tried a couple of ships. Nothing had seemed like a good fit and he'd had to keep a low profile with all the Starfleet types around. He’d stopped for lunch in the Frosted Phrophet the barman had mentioned the Fawkes was hiring and Langar had strolled by to take a look, making sure to stay clear of any dock patrols. He had Identification in his current name and it was good, but not good enough for a detailed check by Starfleet Security.
There didn’t seem to be anyone around so he hit the intercom on the hatch panel. A few moments later there was distorted reply filled with static he could barely make out “Yeah?”
“Heard you were looking for crew” Langar replied
“Might be, what can you do?” the voice said
“I was Bosun on my last ship, I can fly, do a little protection and security, handle cargo, I don’t shirk hard work. And I have some experience on Groumall’s” Langar offered, he decided not to mention that experience included the best way to sabotage a Cardassian fleet version or how to bypass the locks on the modular cargo containers.
There was no response for a few moments, then the static speaker said “Wait there, the Captain is coming down”
Langar stood back, keeping an eye out for patrols and a few minutes later there was a hiss as the hatchway seal cracked and the door swung open.
The door slid aside to show a Betazoid woman with her arms folded in front of her, looking at the man at the hatch. There were few people that announced themselves in the fashion that he did and all of them were interesting. Not all of them were fit to come aboard her boat. "Captain Droz, someone said you wanted to meet with me."
"Somebody said you were looking for crew, Capt'n" Langar replied. Another female boss.. he thought to himself, he didn't have a problem with that and at least the ship would be clean. "I've got my papers, clear physical and co-pilots license." He did, they were legitimate ones and for him too, they were just not in his real name. "As I said" he nodded at the speaker "Was Bosun on my last ship, I can fly, do a little protection and security, handle cargo, I don’t shirk hard work. And I know my way around Groumall’s"
"What are you trying to get away from, mister Langar?" Mayterial didn't step out of the hatch or clear a way for him to come aboard. When it had been young, eager, individuals she knew what drove them. Older freighter crew usually had a very solid reason to choose life on a freighter. On top of that Bajorans, especially ones that had experienced the occupation, always triggered a special kind of curiosity with her.
He was about to throw out a denial, followed by some lies about why he wanted a job, but looking at the woman in the hatchway he was struck by a sudden urge to be at least somewhat truthful. That way she would give him the job or she would not, without him having to worry about it coming up again in future. "My future.." He said levelly "The one that would catch up to me for my past"
"Cryptic." May smiled a bit at the man, "Something I would need to worry about if I take you on board? Places we couldn't go? People that shouldn't see you?"
"Not especially" He offered "And nothing that would come back on you Let us say
l like a quiet life and am not one to draw undue attention to myself or my ship..." He offered her an honest looking smile.
"I'm looking for a Master-at-Arms and an Engineer." Mayterial leaned into the doorpost on the Fawkes' side to casually enquire; "You either of those?"
"Engineer l am not" He replied "But you want somebody to cover ship and cargo security; hatch guard; Captain's escort; run your tactical and weapons panel and if we do get boarded, to fight for every bulkhead to keep you and the crew safe, then that l can do" This was delivered in a level tone, not boastful or false, just quiet professional competence.
"All I can hope for is that your stay on the Fawkes will be dull and uneventful." May put out a hand to shake his in agreement.
Langar took the woman's hand, going for a wrist hold, something more normal to him than the one Humans had brought to the galaxy and shook. "Dull, uneventful but ready and able if needed" He agreed.
Using the touch Mayterial was able to glean some more things from him telepathically. She was just scanning for malice and found none. He was on edge, wanting to get away from here but if there were ill intentions towards her or the Fawkes he kept it well hidden.
"Gimme twenty minutes to fetch my gear and I'm ready to start," He said
"We're preparing to leave, so you might want to be a bit faster than that," Mayterial remarked before giving him a wink. Of course, they would wait for him to arrive but he'd like for him to hurry.
Langar nodded and turned to go. He hadn't asked about pay, she hadn't offered so that told him she knew he needed a one-way ticket out of here.
[OFF]
Mayterial Droz
Captain
&
Langar Tarn
Master-at-Arms
S.S. Fawkes
"Anywhere but here"
