From: Jamie LeBlanc (plainsimplegarak_at_yahoo.com)
Date: Sat Feb 02 2008 - 15:53:39 PST
"Harmless Little Toys" (Continued from "In Your
End-o")
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: Cargo Shuttle MACADOO
Stardate: 2.80202.1900
Scene: Passenger deck
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The glittering lights and pulsating ribbons of
energy slipped past as the cargo shuttle MACADOO flew
through the wormhole, and every single one of its
passengers was glued to the observation bay window
except for one.
Mr. Zel Rohan has taken to hiding himself in his
quarters, not because of any innate antisocial
tendencies, but instead an irrational fear of the
Prophets. That and he found that flying out of a
Bajoran space dock put him uncomfortably close to
people who just might recognize him. He had resolved
to hide away and sleep the trip through (since Zel
never, even had enough sleep. Part of the downside of
leading a life that mainly consisted of running though
the galaxy to make a buck and stay ahead of the person
trying to steal your buck and slit your throat) but
there was a static crackle that permeated the ship as
it entered the wormhole. Zel was drawn out of the
door of his small berth and into the Observation
hallway.
Once there he pressed his hands up against the
row of windows, staring in childlike wonder at the
sparkling wormhole interior. There was something
about the oddness… the unexplainable existence of the
celestial temple and beings who might or might not be
gods that forced those who still believed (at least
somewhere in their hearts) that there was still hope
left in this dark universe.
He stayed put there, hardly willing to move for
several long seconds, partially because he was
captivated, and partially because he figured that
moving would be pressing his luck, and he didn’t want
to call any undue attention to himself – not from the
other passengers. From the Prophets. He always knew
only the highest of the Bajoran religious figures
received visions, but he was never sure whether or not
the Prophets would strike down particularly poor
practitioners of their faith. Zel was particularly
poor at it. So when the shuttle slipped out of the
wormhole and in to the GAMMA quadrant, the little
Bajoran hybrid breathed a sigh of relief.
Gathering himself up, away from the busy
commotion of the other passengers, Zel slunk back to
somewhere quiet. He had sleep to catch up on and a
sales pitch to perfect, all in a few slim hours.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: GS2
Scene: Cargo Bay 4
Quartermaster Norman Finnis perked a skeptical
brow over his PADD. “What exactly is in these six
crates you are claiming, Mr. Rohan?”
“Please, Zel.” The Cardassian hybrid replied
evenly, putting his best face forward which was,
incidentally, the side with his Bajoran earring.
Finnis cleared his throat a little and rolled his
eyes. He hated cheeky businessmen. “Apologies Mr.
Zel. You need to answer my question.”
Zel Rohan took in an even breath and surveyed the
neatly packages crates. “Collectibles.”
“What sort of collectibles?” The quartermaster
asked in a tired tone.
Zel looked up at him with large, innocent eyes.
“The collectible type.” When it elicited a growl of
frustration from the overworked Starfleet officer, he
quickly added “Dolls, children’s toys.”
Finnis sighed, looking down at the scan. There
was no harmful material in the crate, and the scans
showed plastic and basic computer circuitry. All of
it falling in line with Mr. Zel’s explanation. But
why anyone would come to GATEWAY station of all places
to sell toys was beyond him. He cleared his throat
and checked off the shipment on his PADD. “Enjoy
your… toys… Mr Zel.”
The half Cardassian have Finnis a perky smile as
he gathered his crates together.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Scene: Ops Offices
Order of business number two: pick up his
business license. Zel didn’t know if it calmed him or
worried him that Grek had gone through the extra
trouble to file all the proper licensing paperwork.
Not that Grek’s name was on any of it. Zel had read
everything through before putting his thumbprint on
it. He was officially chartered to sell collectibles
through a subsidiary of one of the Giele Manufactuings
Firms – which meant little to nothing. Alton Giele
had his name on corporations all across the Alpha and
Beta quadrant, and Zel figured that being routed
through one of the hundreds of Giele enterprises was
Grek’s way of making sure any connections between Zel,
Grek, and whoever actually produced the dolls were
permanently lost in a never-ending web of bureaucracy.
Still, having to walk up to a Starfleet officer
and request the license was daunting. The woman
behind the desk had a thin face with tinges of blue
hinting at a mixed heritage. Zel didn’t know how to
read rank, but he guessed she was some sort of lesser
officer from the boredom etched in her face. “Hello,
I’m looking for the station Ops Officer…” he started
lightly.
“Station Ops is unavailable at this moment. She
is in Main Engineerinmg, tending to important
business.” The woman behind the desk barked
efficiently. She didn’t mention that the reason the
Ops officer was in Main engineering was specifically
for the last retraining she needed before heading out
on an away mission, or that the ex-doctor really
hadn’t even had a chance to catch up on station
reports, let along civilian matters.
“Ah, I see.” The Bajoran hybrid replied,
fiddling with the PADD in his hand. “All I am looking
for is a business license, I have already filed the
paperwork, perhaps you could issue it for me?”
“Name?” she asked in a monotone.
“Zel Rohan.”
“I don’t see…”
“It’s filed under Z not R”
The Ops officer perked a brow and flicked her
computer screen to a different page. “Alright, Mr.
Rohan Zel, it has you listed as a collectibles
seller.”
Zel furrowed both brows and decided that arguing
the finer points of his name with this lady would be
hazardous to his health. “Yes, that is correct.”
Looking over the edge of her monitor she eyed
him. “What sort of collectibles?”
Zel gave her an innocent look. “Toys.”
“Just what the station needs, a toyseller.” She
rolled her eyes a bit and typed in the information.
“Any food, drink, alcoholic beverages, living animals,
living plants controlled substances, body oils,
perfumes, creams or weapons in your wares Mr. Zel?”
He shook his head. “No. Just toys.”
She punched in a few command codes. “I can give
you a temporary permit, your permanent license pending
until it can be reviewed by Commander MacNeill.”
He gave her a long, slow smile. “Thank you,
Miss.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Scene: Promenade
Time Index: The next morning.
On one side of the walk Kathryn MacNeill wearily
took William Wallace for the walk she had promised him
after she picked him up from The Animal Library. Just
beside her Lieutenant Crichton finished going over
which files were the most important for her to review
before the away mission out of the immense stack he
had given her.
“And remember, as foolish as it sounds, the
Dominion is aware of us, and your uniform makes you a
target.” He added, as she paused to let William
Wallace sniff one of the welcome mats on a shopfront.”
Kate turned, fixing the young man with a
grey-eyed stare. “Lieutenant, even if it is my first
mission as an Ops officer, I assure you it is not my
first away mission. I know what being undercover
means.”
Jake put a hand up. “I’m just making sure,
Commander. Honestly, we can’t afford to lose anyone
on this mission.”
“I know…” She trailed off, letting her eyes scan
the reminders of the fight on the station, the
burned-out areas and the still remaining wreckage.
She was about to ask Jake about getting sensor
information from ANDARA when something else caught her
ears.
“Nu Uh! Commander Catwoman can kill all of the
baddest bad guys in the whole universe!” A young
Bajoran boy stuck his tongue out at his older brother,
waving a toy doll at her. The sister was about to
speak when a tinny voice came from the doll.
[I am Commander Catwoman! May the Dominion
tremble before me!]
Slowly Kate’s eyes went wide, and she sent one
short, panicked look over towards Lt. Crichton before
turning to the child. “Hun, can I see your doll?”
The little boy looked over at his sister and then
back at Kate, as if checking to see that it was ok.
When his sister didn’t protest, he walked forward,
holding the plastic creation up. “See? It’s a
genuine Commander Catwoman figurine!”
“He’s been obsessed with it all morning.” His
sister sighed apologetically.
Kate took the offered doll, turning it around in
her hands. Her jaw dropped a little bit when she saw
the face. It was unmistakably Daisy’s. Turning to
Crichton, she showed him the doll before passing it
back to the boy. “Can you tell me where you got
this?”
The sister pointed down the hallway a bit.
“There is a man selling collectibles in a small cart.
He has them.”
Lt. Commander MacNeill offered a small smile for
the family and waited until they had passed before
turning to the CEO. “I gotta find these dolls and get
them off the Promenade before Daisy finds out.”
Jake looked up, his brows furrowing. He pointed
to the oncoming form of a fairly angry CO. “I think
she already found out, Commander.”
~*~*~*~*~
NRPG: Just a little something to get Zel on board
station.
Hope I handled Jake ok!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jamie LeBlanc
Civilian Zel Rohan
Collectibles Seller
GATEWAY STATION
____________________________________________________________________________________
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