Bumming Around

Posted on Sun Jun 26th, 2011 @ 1:13pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix
Edited on on Sun Jun 26th, 2011 @ 2:19pm

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Archadia III
Timeline: Following 'Planet Fall'

Although he had spent the previous year exploring a desk in the safe quadrangles of the Academy, Aix did not feel out of practice on this away mission. The Commodore was not running things by the book which was just as well for Aral as he had not taken the trouble to read it in the first place. As the shuttle landed Aral felt the butterflies of anticipation in his stomach and it was with excitement and fascination that he had followed the Commodore's lead. He had appraised the Archadian city with an architect's eye. Aesthetically, he had seen better - he had built better - but these people evidently had a knack at town planning. The city was filled with open, bright public space. It was pleasant.

As the away team was lead to the meeting point, Aix had brought up the rear, taking time to memorize the route and to take in the scenery. As they were deposited he caught up with the Commodore, acknowledging his orders with a nod. "Which direction sir," Aix asked as he and the Commodore watched the away team, tricorders subtly out, disperse themselves among the towering buildings.

"Hmm... good question..." Nathan said as he took a second to get his bearings. The city had that lived in feel to it that made it easy to get lost if one didn't pick their route properly. While it did slightly appeal to the more adventurous side of the old man who had made it a habit back on Earth of striking out into the frontier every so often just because he could, there was no time to play cowboy in this particular wild frontier.

"I guess we can scout out this Ministry Complex joint they were talking about, get the lay of the land, maybe ply our craft on a few people and see if they spit out some details," the Commodore said finally.

"Yes sir." Aral nodded, and flipped open his tricorder. He stabbed at a few keys bringing up the most detailed map in the database overlayed with scan results. It was not helpful. Aral pointed, "The ministers seemed to walk off in that direction, tricorder shows several large structures and a concentration of motionless life signs. Nothing says government like motionless bureaucracy."

"As true back in the 1800s as it is today..." Nathan agreed, "Lead the way."

Aral lead on, following a path that hugged an immaculate, and pleasingly geometric, lawn before bisecting a small shrubbery and eventually disappearing through a series of wide arches that formed the ground level of several of skyscrapers. "Like a string of croquet arches," Aral commented to himself, "They seem a friendly, if reserved, people," he commented to the Commodore.

"That's what's got me bothered about the whole thing..." Nathan remarked as he followed the Science Officer, "Even if we've only been in contact for two some years, they never did strike anyone as the fickle sort..."

Aral nodded and looked about, the vicinity he and the Commodore found themselves in seemed very quiet. The sign on an impressive building translated on Aix's tricorder as Legislature. "If this is their legislature... this would make this place their Parliament square... their political capital." Aix remarked. He turned on the spot and counted the number of Archadians he could see - there were four. Political centers around the Federation were almost permanently bustling with protests, rallies, journalists, bureaucrats and occasionally politicians. This one felt eerily empty.

"From what I read, their government is pretty popular with the locals... might make for a quiet administrative arena but this is a little too quiet. Maybe we need to find a place that's a little less dead, eh?" the Commodore grumbled.

"Shall we ask a local?" Aix asked, spying a formally dressed Archadian walking in their direction a hundred meters away or so.

"Why not, can't hurt," Nathan agreed and made for the singled out Archadian. It was obvious the woman was lost in thought because she didn't even notice the two Starfleet officers until they were right on top of her, almost literally.

"Excuse me, miss," Nathan began, "I was wondering where the action is. Wanted to mingle with the masses but I come here and there's no masses. Can you help an old man out?" Aral fixed his most winning smile on the woman as the Commodore spoke to her. She seemed to ignore him.

The woman blinked a few times, as if shocked at the manner and method in which the man had spoken to her. She finally seemed to process the question and pointed to a long street leading to what looked to be a much more busy part of town.

"The merchant area might be what you are looking for. I'm sure you will find a good deal of 'action' there," the Archadian replied.

"Outstanding, thank you," Nathan gave her a smile that would have most likely made anyone on his crew that had spent any length of time around him cringe with fear at what he was plotting. The Archadian had no such frame of reference and took it simply as an expression of gratitude. She gave him a curt nod and departed, leaving Cowell and Aix alone.

"Merchant area, now that sounds promising... more so than this cemetery anyway..." the old man grumbled just loud enough for the Trill to hear.

Throughout the Commodore's conversation with the woman Aix couldn't help but wonder whether the word action had any culturally specific connotations that they had not fully grasped. "It's not right, whatever it is," Aix replied to the old man's grumble as they set off in the direction the woman had indicated. As they walked on the officers began to notice small signs of life: domestic dwellings, people passing them on the streets, a certain amount of traffic, trade and general bustle.

"Care for a spot of gift shopping Commodore," Aix asked, "perhaps one of these lovely shawls for your human shield?" He gestured to a scarf hanging from a tacky street stall.

"Human shield?" Nathan asked with a raised eyebrow, "Which one?"

"You have a starship full, I imagine?" Aix replied, "As for me - I don't think it would suit - I'd prefer the cash." As he spoke he took a couple of steps and peered into the window of a shop that seemed to sell nothing in particular.

Nathan chuckled at that. Like so many women in his life, they'd preferred the money over anything he would have picked out for them. Granted, he didn't have much in the way of taste so he really didn't get offended by it. In all, the merchant area seemed a much more lively place than the administrative area, which would have made sense except that it somehow didn't. Nathan wasn't entirely sure if it was stagnation in their government, or something more sinister... Either way, it just didn't add up.

"Excuse me, son, got a second?" Nathan pulled an unsuspecting passerby from his path of travel, "Wanted to ask you something."

"Uh... sure..." the Archadian male said hesitantly, unsure about the sanity of the old man that had accosted him.

"What's the deal with the bureaucrats over there? Don't they work?" Nathan inquired.

"I would hope so... Our economy has flourished in the last few years thanks to their trading with the Federation. Most of us here have a grand life now because of it... all of us except the people over in the Shala Quadrant of the city... But most of those people are their because of their own mismanagement, not because of others," the man remarked, "Anything else? I'm going to be late for a meeting with some friends if I don't hurry off."

"No, that's good enough for me, thanks," Nathan said, releasing the man.

"Sounds like a slum to me... what do you think?" Nathan asked his Science Chief.

As the young man artfully sidestepped Cowell, Aix firmly grasped the man's arm. "Just one more question." He smiled, "which way?"

The Archadian pointed down a street adjacent to them before hurrying off.

Aix turned to the Commodore, "I say let's go." As they resumed their walk, "We might get something out of the ones who have nothing to lose."

"That sounds like a good idea. Might find some nice, loose lips, and not even the ones you fool around with," Nathan chuckled.

Shala Quadrant was indeed a slum. Shanty houses fell into and grew out of one another built on foundations dug into the compacted mud that surfaced the clearings that passed for streets. Aix craned his neck, taking his surroundings in, he was struck by how similar this was to the slums he remembered on Trill or those in the Federation history books he had memorized at the Academy. "There's more life here, that's a plus... perhaps we should find somewhere discreet to corner a local or two." They took a few paces, walking slowly through crowds of people carrying food, water, children, animals and various bits of painfully obsolete technology. "A slum's a slum, the same anywhere in the galaxy I suppose." Aral commented.

"Yeah... I remember a fair few of them back in the day on Earth... But the one thing people respond to fastest is either money or essentials. Hope they don't was Cash on Delivery though... I'm strapped for cash at the moment, and it'll be another ten some hours before we get the ship in orbit. Think an IOU will cover us?" the Commodore asked offhandedly.

"Shall we find out?" Aix replied as he ducked into what looked like a shanty bar. The bar was small, it's compacted earth floor was covered haphazardly in mismatched tables and chairs. Small screens played various sporting events and the humid air hung heavy with sweat and small flies. The regulars, all female, sat quietly in pairs or threes nursing unpalatable looking drinks.

As Cowell and Aix crossed the threshold the room fell silent and all eyes fell on the two officers. "We've made an impression." Aral remarked quietly to the Commodore.

"Not yet," Nathan muttered before he approached the bar and motioned for the bartender to attend to them, "How're things in this here neck of the woods?"

The woman behind the counter gave both the Commodore and the Commander a bit of a glare, "I would have thought that was obvious to you people..."

Nathan glanced about the room and took in the various downtrodden looks on the faces of her patrons before returning his eyes to the bartender, "I don't know, looks pretty normal for a bar. Bunch of alchies drinking away their sorrows about something or another. Doesn't really tell me anything though, and I was hoping to find someone who would tell me something about this and that."

"Unless you've got something to offer people, I don't think you're going to get much more than a telling off, old man..." the Archadian remarked flippantly.

"Got plenty to offer, depends on what you're looking for. Hell, how about a one nighter with this here strapping young man," Nathan indicated his Trill companion, "And yes, the spots go all the way down."

Aix's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach where it remained while he surveyed the women in the room. He was torn between taking exception and attempting to look alluring; as unpleasant as the prospect was there was a small part of him that did not want rejection. Deciding to take one for the team he fixed the woman behind the bar with what he hoped was a non committal facial expression while he looked at her closely and inwardly vowed to avenge himself against the old bastard.

The woman just scowled, "I don't want a piece of ass... I'd much rather have supplies... something I can use, sell..."

"Too bad, he's of good stock, but no matter. I can get you supplies the second I get my boat in orbit. I just need to find someone who will tell me what's really going on around here since most of the people I've met so far only have glowing commentary. Not very helpful when you're trying to get a feel for reality... damn political correctness killed conversations uptown," Nathan grumbled.

The Science Officer attempted not to look too relieved.

The woman looked shrewdly at the old man, deciding whether or not she could trust him to keep his word. She looked unconvinced. "What are you offering?"

"What're you lookin' for, how about we start there," the Commodore remarked.

"I need a new generator." She paused, "I've heard your people have something that can create food and water out of thin air... I want that."

"Power and a replicator... not impossible, but you'd have to have some pretty good information for me to part with that," Nathan said in a shrewd, businesslike tone.

The woman, who was easily 6'4" and built like a type of lavatory that Cowell would have fondly recalled from Victorian England, placed a hand on each hip and fixed him with a glare. "How do I know you'll deliver."

Meanwhile Aix, having recovered his composure, grappled with the Prime Directive. Were he with any other Starfleet Flag Officer the woman would have had no chance, but as far as he could see there was a fair chance Cowell might actually deliver. In the space of ten minutes Cowell had reduced Aral to an unsuccessful gigolo and borderline conspirator in breaking the Prime Directive.

"Because if I say I'm gonna do something, I'm gonna do it. You give me the goods, you get the goods. Even trade right down the middle. But hell, if you can't take me at my word, I can find someone else who wants a lot less in exchange for what I'm looking to get. Up to you," Nathan shrugged, not really in the mood to waste time on the woman if she wasn't going to play ball.

She looked at him square in the face, "Collateral." Her eyes shifted to Aix and back the Commodore, "And that" she pointed at Aix, "isn't what I'm talking about."

"Well let's not beat around the bushes, woman, tell me what you want, then we can get down to business," Nathan said impatiently.

She looked down at The Commodore's feet. "Your boots, from both of you... and your jewellery." She pointed at the rank insignia that both men wore.

Nathan laughed at her, "No dice... I just broke the boots in, and you ain't takin' my pips unless I'm dead. How about this instead..."

The old man pulled out his medical tricorder, opening it up and handing it to her, "Top of the line model, works great, never been broken once. Probably worth twice what my boots are worth on the black market, unless there's a boot shortage... but even then..."

She raised her eyebrow at the whirring device that sat on the counter. She had no idea what it was and didn't particularly want it but suspected she'd get no further. She picked it up delicately and secreted it behind the counter. "Okay, I'll talk."

"Good... here's what I want to know," Nathan said, sliding onto a stool, "Things are a little too perfect around here. Much as I like a good Utopia, I know they're all bullshit. What I want to know is, how long have things been like this? What kind of shady shit has been going down lately that the rest of the populous seems to be content with?"

The woman sighed and let the question hang in the air for several seconds before responding, "The government came out with a mandate a few months ago that outlined changes in our planet's status with the galactic community. They said that they were going to start expanding beyond our home system with the help of the Federation... but aside from you two... I've not seen one Federation person since our first contact a few years back. Then, a few weeks ago, the government buildings all shut down, something about redundancy or something... but the economy and everything else didn't even seem to notice... Most of the people in the Shala Quadrant came here because of the downsizing... but no one I've talked to knows who's really behind the shutdown or anything like that since all the big names are still running around like life is wonderful..."

Nathan frowned, and that face continued to darken as she spoke. He'd known from day one things were fucked up... now he had some proof.

"I'll be seeing you around with that replicator," was all he said in reply before turning to Aix, "We're leaving."

"Yes sir." Aral replied, turning to the woman he excused himself, "It's been a pleasure." He smiled insincerely as he followed the Commodore out of the bar, screwing his eyes up as he reached daylight. "For a planet missing a government, it doesn't seem too badly run does it?" he commented as they walked vaguely in the direction of the rendezvous point.

"This is even worse than I thought... I smell Section 31 all over this..." Nathan remarked bluntly as the men headed back toward their temporary domicile.

I thought they were a just a tin-foil-hat brigade myth." Aix replied. The thought that Starfleet might have intelligence interests at all in the Delta Quadrant seemed odd. The Federation had so few interests to protect and knew so little about the cultures any operation would require vast resources, and what could they possibly hope to gain? His head spun.

"Son, Section 31 is about as real as the hairs on your ass," Nathan informed him, "And if they really are behind this, things are going to go from a little weird to absolutely fucked up. And that's just if we can nail one of the bastards to the floor long enough to figure out that's who it is. We might only be able to repair whatever damage has already been done... Let's hope we can repair it at least..."

"What could they possibly want from these people?" Aix surveyed the myriad of poverty that surrounded them.

"This is a foothold," Nathan explained, "If they are able to pull this out from under us, we might be blocked from coming and going from here. Think of the trouble that will cause if we're not able to meet a threat coming from this direction any sooner than when they are on our front door. That would play right into their twisted sense of 'helping' the Federation grow or whatever the hell it is they really want. Regardless, we need to nip this in the ass and nip it quick."

Aral shook his head. "Are they schizophrenic? Because that's how they sound, and I should know, I was once." Aral was shocked at the words that fell from his mouth.

"No, their psychopaths as far as I can tell... at least the ones that don't really have the Federation's interests in mind or at heart anyway. Can't figure the DeVries bunch out... Not sure why they'd be messin' around with that lot..." Nathan mused aloud as they continued down the side streets of the city.

"If it's not sex, it's usually death." Aral remarked. "Sometimes we have an urge to just..." he paused to search for the word on his tongue, "... fall... Then again, I've never been a spy. I was a serial killer for a while, but never a spy." Some eggs were best cracked as jokes.

"Never been a killer... bank robber, horse thief, arsonist... sure... but that was back in the old west and I just wanted to see what it was like to be on the other side of the morality fence. Had it's perks, but the women were uglier than sin... had to give it up. But hell, if you live long enough, you'll be prone to do just about anything just to keep from getting bored,' the El-Aurian chuckled as if the news was little more than a passing conversational piece.

Aral laughed politely accepting the Commodore's point, although his own mortality was rather different to the El-Aurien's. Aix had been several very different people; his memories were those of four very different lives, rather than one long narrative. He was affected by a twinge of sympathy for the Commodore as he mentioned boredom. Although Aix had aged and died several times over he knew that as he aged and died he would be reborn into his prime.

"Hopefully the teams will be back by the time we get there," Nathan said, looking at his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, "Yeah, about that time. Keep the whole... Section 31 business under your... spots... for a while, there, Spots. Don't want everyone in the damn team looking for shadows that might not be there."

Aral nodded, "And if they find a shadow that is there, God help them."