Dreams of our ancestors....the arrival

Posted on Wed Sep 26th, 2012 @ 10:06am by Elijah "Eli" Samuels & Commander Oralia Zeferino

Mission: Sections of the Delta Quadrant
Location: Docking port 142
Timeline: current

The dream always started the same. Eli's great grandfather, Swooping Eagle, the tribal name he preferred, sitting on the rock line after his first spirit quest.

“What did the spirits tell you, Crouching Coyote?”

“I'm not sure, grandfather.”

The older man would always laugh, lightly at this point.

“And therein lies the wisdom. When the spirits speak it is......beep, beep, beep, beep.”

With a groan, Eli rolled over in his cot, still wondering why his dead great grandfather was beeping at him, to finally wake up enough to realize it was his ship's computer, telling him he was approaching his destination.

Letting out a growl he wasn't sure came from his stomach or throat, Eli got off his bunk and stumbled forward into the pilot's cabin. Flopping down, he ran a hand through his unruly hair, more grey than even last week, he thought with a sigh. Reaching out he toggled off the autopilot. The green light faded, then returned to bright green, indicating the autopilot still fully engaged. Scowling at the offending light, Eli gave it that most basic of engineering fixes; a good smack. The light disengaged.

“Freighter Joliett's Revenge, calling Starbase900. Requesting approach vector and docking assignment.”

Back to Federation territory, he thought, as he went through his prelanding checklist. At least, maybe this time, there'd be some credits in it for him.

“Starbase 900 Flight Control here, Freighter Joliett’s Revenge. Approach vector and docking assignment are downloading to your system now,” came a voice from the ‘base. “Once docked, the Station-side hatch will remain locked until Customs and Incoming Security can scan your vessel. If the scan is clear, then the hatch will be unlocked. Please advise if there is any medical issue on board.”

“Figures.”, Eli grumbled before he hit the tab to open the comm channel.

“No medical issues and all cargo is open to inspection. See ya soon.”

Closing the channel, he bumped the JR up to about 1/3 impulse, quite a bit faster than the ¼ impulse most docking procedures called for, but still in a range he thought he could get away with. Angling toward the massive base, he came in nose down. Jerking vibrations rattled his teeth and caused a conduit to fall behind his head as he slammed the aging shuttle into full reverse and whipped her around, bringing his docking port into line with the gang plank extension. With a slight his and click he aligned the two expertly, belying the insane approach vector he’d came in on.

Automated systems had come online as soon as the docking assignment had been given. To protect the Base from errant flyboys, forcefields had flickered to life around the port, allowing only the port to stick out. With the shuttle latched into place, other systems started operating, specifically, the aforementioned Customs and Intake Security scanners. Highly efficient, the scanners ran over the shuttle three times, searching for any contraband; the fourth scan was a medical one, to detect any viral or bacterial element that might cause an issue on the Station.

Finding nothing in the few short minutes the scan had taken, the scanners went offline and umbilici snaked out to attach to the shuttle. A loud clunk and a minor tremor through the shuttle’s frame denoted the lock on the hatch being released. “SB900 Flight Control to Freighter Joliett’s Revenge: you are clear to enter the Station. Please see the Dockmaster if there are repairs or maintenance you wish to have done; otherwise, continue through to the Security Checkpoint. Enjoy your stay on SB900.”

“Ya got anyone that sells replicator parts?”, Eli mumbled to himself as he tugged on his boots. Standing, he stretched, the vertebra in his neck and back popping loudly. With a grimace, he pulled his hair back and fixed his short top cowboy hat to his head, letting the air from the station hit him in the face as the different pressures from ship to station equalized. The smells of new places never ceased to fascinate Samuels. You can go to a hundred different worlds, all primarily human and still experience a million new smells.

At the top of the gangplank, the lanky, scruffy, bearded man saw a ‘fleeter he assumed was customs. Holding out a battered padd, he tipped his hat.

“Morning, Capt’n.” The freelance captain said in his slow drawl. “Paperwork’s all in order. Case of Romulan Ale, case of wine from Virinat vineyards, 4 bolts blue Tholian silk, bolt‘a red, andddd....18 cases of that holonovel Shades of Blue.”

Giving a slight shudder, he forced a tight smile. “Andorian porn; who’d’a thought it’d be so popular. But, when ya got 4 sexes, I guess there’s a lot of opportunities.”

As he perused the list on the padd, the ‘fleeter winced and grumbled, “That’s gotta be disturbin’ to watch... not that I wanna find out. You got buyers for all this stuff? What about that Tholian silk - it got a destination?”

Eli gave a half shrug. “Some shop named ‘Regis Rags’. Never heard of it, but the order was put out about 3 weeks ago. Say, there anywhere good to eat ‘round here? Replicator’s confinement actuator blew four days ago. Been living off a bag of dried beans I had in storage. Or, if you can just point me in the direction of the Promenade, I got customers waiting on this liquor. You’d think being out here in the Delta Quadrant and us being all friendly with the Romulans now, more people would be running stuff out of from there. But hey, I’ll make the latinum if no one else wants it.”

Pushing his hat back slightly, he gave the other man a slight smile.

The ‘fleeter’s eyes narrowed briefly. “Depends on your budget,” he looked the scruffy pilot over and smirked, “I’m guessing your budget is more on the kiosk side than the sit-down-n-be-waited-on side. A good kiosk is M’rats down in the Cherry Pit, Deck 531. Cheap, kind of a mystery what’s really in the stuff, but decent fare. And not far from Saturnalia, where the girl trade is hot.”

He sniffed and adjusted his pants then went on, “‘Course, if you actually can afford a sit down place, try the Nexus on the Promenade. Guy that runs the place, Banning, he might buy some of your stuff, too. Nexus is on 275. Hard to miss. But the Promenade runs from 271 to 286. Take your pick. Never heard of Regis Rags, though. ‘Course, I don’t have need of custom duds.”

“You want, I can have the Dockmaster come ‘round and fix that replicator,” he offered.

Eli gave a slight tip of his head. “Not in the mood to visit your sickbay to get rid of the funk, so probably skip the girls, but cheap food’ll hit the spot.” Shifting the box of romulan liquor in his hands, he pulled out a bottle of ale, passing it over. “Tell your dock master there’s one’a those for him too, he gets that replicator fixed by 1300 tomorrow.”

The officer hesitated a fraction of a second before taking the bottle. He keyed something into the padd he held then nodded. “Shouldn’t be an issue. Anything else?”

Tipping his hat Eli stepped away, hosting the box containing 4 ornate wine bottle.. “Nope. Just don’t drink all that at one time.”