The Spy Who Snuck in the Back Door

Posted on Sun 20th May, 2018 @ 9:40pm by
Edited on on Wed 23rd May, 2018 @ 11:42pm

577 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Brushfires
Location: Starbase 109, Tivoli Gardens
Timeline: Current

Lt. Damion Ildaran left Starbase Vanguard a day after the meeting with Col. Wellington for an extended vacation on a nearby planet called Morning Garden. It was mainly populated by Buddhists and people of Japanese descent, and it was reasonably close to Vanguard, in the area of space known as the Triangle, where the borders of the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the remnants of the Romulan Star Empire met.

Four days later, a decrepit-looking runabout with a damaged warp-field generator limped into Vanguard's space and had to be towed to the station. Its pilot looked as disreputable as his ship, being a fellow by the name of Corin Durant, who wore his long, messy hair in a ponytail. The only positive thing one could say about his gray coveralls was that they were clean and neatly mended. Shortly after docking, he made his way to the portmaster's office and spoke in a huff to the crewman on duty.

"You want 200 credits a day for me to dock here? That's highway robbery! The busted warp generator is already gonna cost me an arm and a leg to fix. I'll be months scraping together the credits to pay for that!"

"Your runabout is mainly salvage, Mr. Durant," the crewman said. "She's dead in the water. From the report I read, the M/AM plasma injectors look like they haven't been cleaned since she was built. The docking fees for vessels with no exit flight plans are much higher than regular docking fees for a reason. Your runabout is taking up space that could be used for vessels that are functional. Docking and hangar bay space here is limited. You need to either repair your runabout within the week or get rid of it fast--or be prepared to pay a lot of credits."

"Get rid of it?! I just bought it!" Durant glared at the crewman, who simply gave him a level gaze back. "Screw it! Fine," Durant said. "Where do I pay? I'll take a day to decide what to do, and then I'll let you know tomorrow."

The crewman pointed to a PADD that was inset into his console and flipped its display 180 degrees so it faced Durant. "Just enter your payment information here. There are transient quarters on decks 100-150. They're like small apartments--"

"I'm more interested in something like sleeping pods," Durant said. "If I'm gonna be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I'll need to be working, not hanging out in an apartment."

"Suit yourself," the crewman replied with a shrug. "Deck 150. What kind of work do you do?"

"Repair work--in-home appliances, small gardening machinery, ground cars, video sets, that kind of thing. Warp drives are outta my league. But you've got Fleet people here. They won't allow a civvie to horn in on their territory."

"You could set yourself up for business down in Tivoli Gardens. We have a lot of civilian residents who live down there, or the Disney company might hire you on. There's also Casino Royale. All sorts of places that might hire you." The crewman paused. "You'd have to cut your hair, though. It really doesn't look professional."

"Huh," Durant said. "You've been a lot more help than I expected. Thanks, man."

"No problem. And if you decide to sell your runabout for spare parts, I know a guy."

Durant eyed him. "I'll keep that in mind. Deck 150, you said? Guess I'll be on my way, then."

 

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