Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.
This is the 17th installment of the Special Investigations Division series. I hope you enjoy.
It was moving day for Outbound Ventures, Inc. The corporate and business offices were to remain on Barrinor. The ships and crews relocated to Serenity Station. Several of them, like Brin Macen and T'Kir, retained a residence on Barrinor for holidays.
Ephrim Zyrain was the new station administrator. He'd headed up other civilian stations in the past. This was his first posting with an armed station. Fortunately, the station wasn't expected to have to defend itself. It was merely a precaution after the Solarian attacks on Outbound Ventures.
Each ship was assigned a permanent berth. The crews received their living assignments at the airlock. Personal property would be offloaded and placed in pre-assigned cargo bays.
Macen and T'Kir were reviewing their quarters. T'Kir made a face, "It's so…Cardassian."
The irony wasn't lost on Macen. He'd served in the Federation's Border Wars. Afterwards he'd joined Ro Laren and T'Kir in the Maquis. Since the Dominion War, he'd lead a Starfleet Special Investigations Team.
Macen had already survived over four hundred traumatic years and, as an El-Aurian, he was expected to live quite a few more. His time in Starfleet had been good. His meeting T'Kir had been better and his marriage to her was wonderful…bumpy but wonderful.
Macen had retired from Starfleet by duress. It was that or face a General Court Martial. Since that time he had worked as a privateer. The Special Investigations Division was his biggest client.
Macen had survived several incarnations of the SID. It had begun as a regular forces unit. It had then transformed itself into a mixed irregular and regular forces agency. Now it was strictly an irregular forces outfit.
Over a dozen privateer crews were employed by the SID. It was a lucrative contract. Macen wanted for nothing. Starships, latinum, and weapons were his for the asking.
Starfleet Intelligence's Special Projects Yards equipped all of their vessels. Officially, the SPYards did not exist and would never exist. Similarly, SI's Q Branch did not exist. Q Branch supplied SI agents, SOCOMM operatives, and the SID with specialised equipment. It was generally one of kind technology and was considered extremely sensitive and valuable.
Macen smiled as he addressed his wife, "T'Kir, you approved of building a Nor-class station."
"Reluctantly." T'Kir groused, "You and Claudia talked me into it."
Claudia Tyrol was Outbound Ventures' CEO. While Macen and T'Kir owned the company, Tyrol actually ran it. Building a sister station to DS9 had been her idea.
"The price was right." Macen reminded T'Kir.
She stuck out her tongue at him, "Nyuh!"
Macen responded with a loving gaze and smile. T'Kir was an exception to every rule. A passionate Vulcan who'd been raised under the tenets of Sybok, she found fulfilment in emotional expression.
T'Kir's nearly limitless telepathy had opened her mind to entire solar systems. As a result, she'd lost her sanity. Although her abilities had been pared down to controllable levels, she'd never fully recover.
Dealing with his own traumatic issues, Macen found an anchor in T'Kir. T'Kir, adrift amongst her own personal demons found an anchor in Macen. In a strange way, their psychoses balanced each other out.
Changing the subject, Macen asked, "Do you want to see if our belongings are aboard yet?"
"Yah." T'Kir replied, "We gotta do somethin' `bout this dump."
Laughing, Macen escorted her out of their new living area.
Radil Jenrya dropped by the Infirmary. She still bore the scars of Abby Collins' death but Kort had seen her through the worst of it. Having finished unpacking her belongings she wanted to check in on the newly appointed station CMO.
Kort saw her and beamed, "Jenrya, come in."
The Klingon looked and acted like a proud parent despite the fact that his facilities were in utter chaos. The Medical staff, like all station personnel, had moved in a week ago. Owing to shipping mistakes, the Infirmary had fared far reaching delays.
Radil had to admit to her self that she was pleased that Kort was here. Despite their tumultuous past, he'd proven himself to be her greatest friend. His enthusiasm at seeing her was infectious.
"It looks like a disaster in here." The Bajoran said.
Kort chuckled, "You should have seen it a few hours ago. The supply freighters arrived an hour before the mass migration started."
"Yeah, it's been crazy." Radil ruefully commented.
"I'm due for a break." Kort announced, "Would you like to grab a drink at the replimat?"
"I'd love to, kind sir." She replied.
Kort offered her an arm and she accepted it. They strolled out of the infirmary arm in arm.
Celeste Rockford looked around her quarters. She was quite pleased with herself. She'd arrived in her runabout and had unloaded most of its contents.
She was happy to finally have a place she could call home. She'd been living inside of her runabout for several months now and that was getting old in a hurry. Of course, if she weren't a fugitive from Barrinoran justice, it wouldn't have been a problem.
Rockford sighed. She hadn't even been convicted of anything; she'd just been dumped in prison. Her escape had cost a life and that prevented her from pleading her case in Barrinor's court system.
However, Barrinor was now part of the Federation and she could appeal to a higher court. Of course, she'd assumed a new identity and it was one of a respected Federation citizen. She supposed if she didn't rock the boat she'd make out okay. At least she hoped she would.
Taking one last look around she ascertained that everything was where she wanted it. Leaving her quarters, she sought company. She just wasn't sure whose door she should knock on first.
Gantz surveyed Dracas' rooms. They were decorated in classical Roman style with Greek trappings. Asian and African influences were present as well.
Dracas was a native of Magna Roma. That world had recently rejected him, placing him under eternal exile. It all stemmed from the simple fact that he was a clone. More to the point he was the clone of an alien to Magna Roma. The Ardannian Troglyte, Hal Dracas, had been his progenitor.
Like the previous Dracas, Joachim served with the SID team and as the Chief Engineer of the SS Obsidian. The Nova-class surveyor served as Macen's command. She'd been through hell and always gave her best. The crew was attached to her and would give their lives defending her.
Dracas sat his armour on the couch. He no longer wore the Star Legion's livery. He was no longer a serving officer. Now he wouldn't serve even if he'd been given a choice.
As if sensing his thoughts, Gantz said, "Let's go find an eatery. I'm hungry."
Dracas mulled it over. He considered Gantz. The Acamarian had begun life as a Gatherer. When his clan chose to forsake piracy, he traipsed off and became one of the quadrant's foremost bounty hunters.
Versed in dozens of languages and planetary laws, Gantz had grown tired of his career and his life. He was about to try the solitude of retirement when Macen had approached. Gantz had listened and been swayed by Macen's convictions.
Macen dreamt of a brighter tomorrow. A future encompassed by a peaceful union of all the stellar nations in the galaxy. All monitored by a benevolent cadre of philosopher-guardians: the Seekers of Truth. It was a dream worth fighting for.
Macen was laying the groundwork for such a movement here within the Federation. The SID were his recruits and the future was his horizon. Gantz could see the dream and he wished he could be there for the end but not even Macen would survive long enough to see the fruit of his labour.
It was a dream that Dracas was just starting to embrace. Up until recently he had served Macen out of obligation to Alaric Caesar. Now, he was serving of his own volition and he found Macen's goals to be laudable.
"All right." Dracas agreed, "There are several restaurants aboard. Which would you care to sample?"
"I dunno." Gantz admitted, "Let's just follow our noses, shall we?"
Dracas was nonplussed but he agreed and they set out.
The door opened to reveal Rockford on the other side. T'Kir ushered her in, "What's up, chica?"
"Nothing much." Rockford answered, "I finished unpacking and I realised that I wanted to hang out with someone."
T'Kir grinned, "Wanna see what Hannah's up to?"
"Sure." Rockford agreed.
"Honey, I'm leavin'. Decorate wisely." T'Kir departed before Macen could protest.
"He hates it when I d'that." T'Kir confided as they headed down the corridor, "But he'll forgive me."
"You hope." Rockford replied.
"Yup." T'Kir bubbled.
Hannah Grace let loose of a forlorn sigh. She'd been placing her pictures of Ian Delaney. It just served to remind her of how much she missed him.
Delaney was the Tactical Officer aboard the USS Intrepid. Like the Obsidian, the Intrepid frequently served in the hottest zones. A designated troubleshooter for Starfleet, the Intrepid faced more than its fair share of action.
Grace and Delaney had only been a couple for a little over a year now. Theirs had been a rollercoaster relationship until lately. Now everything seemed out in the open with no more secrets being kept.
Despite all appearances, Grace wasn't human. She was a Kelvan, one of the first generation of Kelvans born in the Milky Way Galaxy. She'd crossed the quadrant and joined Starfleet.
Her Starfleet career had led her to the SID. She'd served as Macen's helmsman and pilot ever since. Her enhanced physique, superior reflexes, mental discipline, and senses made her a formidable opponent in the cockpit or out.
She'd lost her Attuner, the device that allowed Kelvan to reshape molecular structures. However, after much focus and determination, she was learning to harness her innate abilities without her Attuner. She regretted the loss of both her Attuner and the power source that went with it but she was making progress.
She hadn't shared this fact with Delaney. She'd only had her first successful application of her abilities in the field. She wanted to be certain of her facts before she alerted him.
She felt guilty for keeping the fact from Macen and T'Kir. Macen had shown incredible patience in giving Grace a second and third chance. She didn't want to betray his confidence yet again.
T'Kir was her best friend and deserved to know. Unfortunately, T'Kir shared a permanent telepathic rapport with Macen. She could spill the beans without even meaning to.
The door chimed and it broke Grace's reverie. She instructed the computer to open it. T'Kir bounded in and excitedly hugged her.
"Hiya kiddo!" T'Kir enthused.
"Hi!" Grace's reaction was a blend of excitement and surprise.
Grace noticed Rockford standing in the middle of the room, "Hi there."
"`Lo." Rockford waved.
"You done unpacking?" T'Kir asked.
"Not quite." Grace said, "I still have to…"
"You're done." T'Kir sternly informed her, "It's time for a Girl's Night Out."
"The infamous GNO, eh?" Grace mused, "All right. I'm in. Where to?"
"Quark's." T'Kir decided, "We can get a holosuite and then hog the dance floor."
Grace and Rockford smirked. Quark had decided to capitalise on his success at DS9. He was franchising his name to establishments across the quadrant. This particular Quark's boasted a dance club as well as a casino, holosuites, a bar, and a restaurant.
"C'mon, let's go." T'Kir made for the door. Rockford and Grace exchanged a glance and then followed T'Kir. They were headed for trouble and knew it. They all found they didn't care.
Lisea Danan nestled up against Tom Riker. Danan was Macen's Sciences Specialist. Riker was the Captain of the Emden-class SS Indomitable. He was also leader of his own SID team. Despite Riker's past as XO of the Obsidian under Macen, his launch as a SID commander had already been marred by tragedy. Abby Collins' death had shaken him and shaken him hard.
Danan's TLC had nursed him back to emotional health. Former SID agents Rab Daggit and Parva had also helped immensely. The greatest aid, however, had been the lack of assignments for the last six weeks. Riker and Danan had luxuriated in each other's company and were now enjoying a respite.
"Thanks for helping arrange my things." Riker said.
"Don't think you're getting out of helping me with my quarters." Danan warned, "I have some items requiring your muscle."
"I haven't, I haven't." Riker assured her, "I'm just catching my breath."
"Sucks getting old don't it?" Danan asked.
"Who's old?" Riker gibed, "I'm going to live forever."
"With my symbiot, so will I." Danan remarked.
"I keep forgetting you're a Trill." Riker chuckled.
"What?" Danan said dryly, "The head to toe spots don't give it away?"
"You know what I mean." Riker prodded.
Danan leaned over and kissed him, "Yes I do. I'm always forgetting that you're merely human."
Riker pushed her over on the couch and jumped atop her, "I'll show you 'merely' human."
"Yum!" she replied.
The final member of the team sat alone in the bowels of the Obsidian. Tessa was the ship's EMH and was therefore restricted to the ship. Macen had had holoprojectors installed throughout the ship but it was still a lonely place when empty even if she could explore it all.
She was in the rec room watching old movies when Galen 3 plopped down beside her.
"Hi!" he enthused. Galen 3 was from Eminiar VII and was Danan's research assistant. He also had a crush on Tessa. While she occasionally found this annoying, she was just happy to see another face.
"Hi yourself." She replied, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you." He admitted, "My room's prepared and I couldn't think of anyone else that I wanted to spend time with so here I am."
"I appreciate the thought." Tessa confessed, "I really do but if you think you're gonna put any fast moves on me, think again buster!"
"Fast moves." Galen 3 scoffed, "I am, above all else, a gentleman."
"All right." Tessa accepted him at his word, "Do you want to play springball?"
"What's springball?" Galen 3 asked.
Like an angler hooking a fish, Tessa crooked her finger and said, "Follow me."