Star Traks: The Incongruous Voyages was created by Ronan Stafford.  It's based primarily on
 Alan Decker's Star Traks (though all the other Star Traks series deserve mention for 
 inspiration),and these in turn are based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. Last thing 
 I knew Paramount and Viacom owned Star Trek, but with weird stuff happening there I don't 
 think they know who owns it, though CBS might be in there somewhere. Anyway, I don't. If you do 
 own Star Trek, drop me an e-mail and I'll credit you for having enough money to buy the franchise.



 Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.


 Rated PG (by author, who knows nothing about ratings). But I don't think there's any foul 
 language, just a couple insults and gory deaths. Nothing worse than you get in primary school 
 playgrounds these days.


                      #########################################
                      ###STAR TRAKS: THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES###
                      #########################################
                      ########Season One: Episode Three########
                      #########################################
                      #######United Colours Of Cardassia#######
                      #########################################
                      #################by RPS##################
                      #########################################




    "Open wide honey!" Doctor Scorpio said, grinning down at Captain Klaus Reimann 
  as he lay back in the elevated white chair, a massive blinding light his face.
    "Argghh!!!" Was all Reimann could say. Scorpio looked inside Reimann's mouth, 
  and with the odd "Tut tut!" reached for the desk behind her, and picking up 
  one of the instruments she got to work. A minute later she was finished.
    "That should be it Captain."
    "Thank you." Reimann said, getting up off the chair glad it was over. Over 
  forty years he'd spent on some kind of starship, and the first time he'd been 
  forced to attend for a dentistry check-up. 
    "Your next check-up will be in six months sir, I'll send you a reminder a 
  week before hand. And remember, your teeth are your best friends!" Glad it 
  was over Reimann ducked for the exit. "See you soon sugar!" Scorpio shouted 
  behind him, taking off the pair of plastic gloves she had on. On the way out 
  Reimann nodded to the Doctors assistant and felt sorry for the next guy who 
  had to go in. Yeoman Henry Jarvis, who'd been waiting for Reimann next to the 
  assistant, leaning on a set of drawers reading a magazine, jumped up and 
  followed the Captain out the door.
    "See, it wasn't that bad was it?"
    "I hate dentists. And you're actually enjoying this aren't you?"
    "A little bit." Henry laughed. She handed Reimann a pad, and continued. "Next 
  up you're visiting the on-board depot store, see the manager and have a few 
  words with the sales assistants."
    "And here I was thinking that all there was to being a Captain was steering a 
  starship along!" Reimann muttered, turning into the turbolift, which would 
  take him to the ship's Dillon’s Supply Depot.


    "Hello? Who's the manager round here?" Reimann asked as he entered Dillon’s 
  Supply Depot. As a new top of the line Dillon’s Consortium ship the Hansean 
  was not only charged with freight, she was practically a warp-capable store.
    "Computer, activate store manager." Henry said, entering the store behind 
  Reimann.
    "What?" Reimann asked, spinning to look at Henry. Behind him a man in a blue 
  suit shimmered into existence. The hologram had a warm, round face combined 
  with a stocky build that just emanated a kind of presence.  He wasn't very 
  tall, no more that five foot six, but Reimann was sure that he could easily 
  dominate any room he wanted to just by walking in.
    "Welcome to Dillon’s Supply Depot, I'm Bradley Dillon. How may I interest you 
  in many of our excellent products?"
    "What the..."
    "It's a hologram Captain." Henry clarified. "Holo-Bradley, please meet 
  Captain Klaus Reimann. Captain, this is Holo-Bradley."
    "Welcome to Dillon’s Supply Depot Captain!" Holo-Bradley said. "You are a 
  much valued customer! As a regular visitor, perhaps I could interest in 
  joining our Value Points Card Program?"
    "Err...no thanks. Henry, we got anyone actually alive working in this place?"
    "Sure, but Holo-Bradley's good enough to do all the up-front stuff. Sales and 
  all that, and the bookkeeping. We employ two guys as well but most of their 
  work is shelf stacking."
    "Right, could I at least speak to those two?" Reimann asked.
    "What about our very special Dillon Consortium Credit Card, 0% on all balance 
  transfers until Stardate 178290. Don't miss out on it!" Holo-Bradley said.
    "Sure, I guess they'll be round the back." Henry set off through the store 
  and through a door marked 'Staff-only', Reimann following and Holo-Bradley 
  hot on his heels spouting more special offers. The three of them walked down 
  several isles, massive shelves with all shapes and sizes of cardboard boxes 
  stacked on them. After a few minutes of searching Henry, Reimann and 
  Holo-Bradley found two young men, both slightly round, having a heated 
  argument next to a forklift.
    "No way does a Level Six Bard defeat a Level Four Rogue!"
    "Would too! One sneak attack and that Bard's dead!"
    "Nah-ah. You're wrong..." The argument was interrupted when Reimann coughed 
  loudly, and the two men looked up and noticed the waiting trio.
    "Hello, my name is Klaus Reimann, I'm the Captain." Reimann said, introducing 
  himself.
    "Greetings Captain. I'm Niels, this is Igor." The young man to the left said, 
  and pointing at the man next to him.
    "Just wanted to meet you so we know who we are, feel free to speak to me if 
  you have any problems on board. And keep up the good work." Reimann looked at 
  Niels and Igor, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what he was 
  saying. To be honest, the two of them didn't exactly look like they were 
  entirely there. "So yah, make sure you listen to Mr. Holo-Dillon here, I'm 
  sure he'll lead you right. Thanks." And with that Reimann turned and started 
  leaving.
    "Very good sir, nice speech." Henry said, catching up with him.
    "Always glad to get out there and talk to the troops, you know, the hard 
  workers, the grunts that make things happen."
    "Actually I'm pretty sure you said something very different at six o'clock 
  this morning when I told you about this appointment."
    "Come now, you know I'm always cranky in the morning. Any other pressing 
  matters to attend to?" Henry shaked her head by way of saying no. "Nice one. 
  I'll be in my ready room."


    "Bridge." Reimann said out loud, as the turbolift doors started to close.
    "Wait! Wait! Hold the doors for me!" Soledad Sanchez shouted as she ran 
  towards the turbolift. Diligently Reimann told the computer to pause, and 
  waited for the accountant to join him before telling it to resume.
    "Good morning Soledad."
    "Morning Klaus." The turbolift started on its journey, with the song 'All I 
  Wanna Do' by Sheryl Crow being pumped through the speakers. "How'd the 
  dentist thing go?"
    "Not too bad. You have an appointment with Dr. Scorpio as well?"
    "Yes, tomorrow afternoon."
    "Very good."
  The two stood in silence. Finally, thankfully, the turbolift reached its 
  location and the doors opened out into the bridge.


  Chief Engineer Nyoko Chugoku (real surname Sulu, she’d assumed a fake surname 
  after running away from home and joining the merchant crew of the SS Hansean) 
  replicated an apple, and bit into it as she stepped out of her quarters 
  heading towards Engineering. The doors of her quarters swished open and she 
  took a step out. Then she stopped, turned around and went back into her 
  quarters. Once in her quarters she turned around once more and took another 
  step outside. Nope, still there. She repeated the routine once more, rubbing 
  her eyes. There was no other answer for it, what she was seeing was real, and 
  it was there.
    "Nyoko to bridge." she said, clicking her comm pips.
    "Braistway here. What have you done now Nyoko?"
    "There's a hobo outside my quarters."
    "A what now?"
    "A hobo. A homeless person. Just camped out opposite my door."
    "Oh yes, Crazy Bill. Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
    "I don't know, why have we got a freaking homeless person on the ship?"
    "He sorta came as standard." The First Mate replied.
    "Oh." was all Nyoko could think of saying.
    "Well, if that’s it Nyoko, have a nice day." And with that Braistway ended 
  the communication, leaving Nyoko standing outside her quarters confused. 
  Crazy Bill rummaged around in his sack, finding nothing in it he turned to 
  her.
    "You gonna eat that?" he asked, indicating her apple. Nyoko passed it to him, 
  and marched off to Engineering extremely annoyed.


  On the bridge, Leanne Braistway was equally annoyed.
    "There's a hobo outside my quarters." She said in a mock voice. "Honestly."
    "Well it is a bit odd." Rascamontes said from the helm.
    "I'll tell you what’s odd," Braistway said in reply, "Is the Captain and 
  that Sanchez woman. There's definitely history there."
    "One does not think one should concern themselves with the Captain's private 
  matters." 'Flash' GorDonTer said from the Tac/Ops console.
    "Nobody asked for your opinion shrub-boy." From the helm, looking up at the 
  rest of the stations on the bridge, Rascamontes saw various of the vines 
  composing Flash shuffle and slither inside him creating an odd whistling 
  sound, a reaction he now recognized as signifying extreme irritation.
    "If you really want to find out what's happening between those two honey, all 
  you have to do is ask one of them." Doctor Belle Scorpio suggested from the 
  medical station on the bridge where she'd come up to adjust the atmospheric 
  filters situated across the ship.
    "Nah, can't do that. Too obvious, I'd never get a proper answer." Braistway 
  considered. "What we need is some way to spy on them when they talk without 
  them knowing." Having an idea, she turned in the command chair to look at 
  Flash.
    "Flash..."
    "If one thinks one will plant an electronic listening device in order to 
  overhear the Captain one is seriously mistaken."
    "Oh no, nothing that simple." Braistway smiled.


    "Ma'am, one must object. One finds this situation magnanimously embarrassing."
    "Quiet you." Braistway said, looking up and down at Flash. He was now sans 
  clothes, standing in a plant pot. Braistway filled the pot with the soil from 
  its previous occupant, and used the transporter to get rid of the excess on 
  the Captain's Cabin floor. She stood back to observe her results. "Try and 
  look more plant-like."
    "One is already a plant."
    "I mean less humanoid, more natural." Braistway saw and heard Flash's 
  irritation, though he eventually let himself go, the vines and leaves 
  composing his body moving and shaking. Inside the pot Flash was now 
  indistinguishable from anything you might grow in your garden. "Perfect. 
  Remember, just listen. I'll come get you once Reimann has left the bridge and 
  it's OK for you to come out." Braistway was however unable to elaborate 
  further as the cabin doors swished open and Captain Reimann walked in, 
  followed by Sanchez. Perfect, the First Mate thought.
    "Leanne, is there anything I can for you?" Reimann asked.
    "Errr...nothing that can't wait Captain. I'll be on the bridge." Braistway 
  answered. She turned towards the door and left, only muttering 'Remember! 
  Plant like!' to Flash as he passed him in his pot.
  Sanchez waited to make sure the door had completely closed before erupting.
    "Klaus! This is completely stupid!"
    "What is?"
    "This! Everything! You've been ignoring me and treated me like I'm not even 
  here ever since I arrived on board!"
    "Well how should I treat you? You're an important Board Member and I'm a 
  Captain, I've got a serious job to do here."
    "Serious job? Like mine isn't?"
  Reimann was about to go into how Dillon Consortium might barely survive 
  without its Accounting department, but decided that it was not the best 
  course of action.
    "You know I never stopped loving you." The Captain ended up saying. 
  Instantaneously Sanchez deflated. She took Reimann's hand.
    "Love was never the problem."
    "Obviously it wasn't enough." Once more both officers fell into silence, 
  though this one was more comfortable than the earlier one in the turbolift. 
    "You know, technically speaking we were never divorced. Never signed the 
  papers." Reimann smiled. Sanchez simply smiled back.
    "Any idea where we're off to?" She asked, changing the topic.
    "First official delivery we're off to Cardassia Prime, will be arriving in 
  about 15 hours time. Got a load of replicators they want over there, and 
  we're to pick up some textiles to bring back to Earth and Vulcan."
    "Should be interesting." Sanchez. said. "Listen, I've got an Accounting 
  Department to run."
    "Yes, I've also got stuff to do." Reimann agreed. "One thing, you want dinner 
  tonight? For old times sake, in the crew lounge?"
    "I think I'd like that." She replied.
    "Nice one. Meet you there about eight?"
    "Sure. See you there." Sanchez finished, leaving the cabin. Reimann followed 
  shortly thereafter deep in thought, off to find Henry. In the corner of the 
  room, what both of the previous occupants had thought had simply been a 
  shrub, moved.


    "They're married!" Braistway almost shouted, the looks of the rest of the 
  table quieting her down. Herself, Doctor Scorpio, Rascamontes and Flash were 
  in the packed crew lounge, which as a Thursday rather unfortunately happened 
  to be a GFC (Guinan's Fried Chicken). "When did that freaking happen?"
    "One does not know, it was not mentioned." Flash replied, eyeing the family 
  bucket of chicken sitting on front of him with disgust. "Although it was 
  mentioned in the conversation that a lack of love was not the problem leading 
  to the separation."
    "Whoa, that's certainly something." Braistway whistled appreciatively. 
    "I wonder if they knew beforehand they were gonna be assigned to the same 
  ship, certainly explains why they've pretty much been ignoring each other."
    "Sugar, you said they were having dinner tonight? Here, in the crew lounge?" 
  Scorpio asked. Flash nodded. "Well, at least it looks like they might get on 
  slightly better if they've agreed to have dinner together. Plus I doubt 
  they'll be getting back together, I mean, look around." The four officers 
  looked around the KFC with its plastic chairs and tables and cheap paper and 
  cardboard boxes instead of plates. Hardly the most romantic location. Why had 
  people got rid of the old style lounge's and replaced them with Russian 
  roulette holographic establishments?
    "I still don't get it though." Braistway said.
    "Get what? There isn't much to understand: Reimann marries Sanchez, they 
  break up, they grow further apart, and then they happen to be posted on the 
  same ship. Easy." Rascamontes clarified.
    "Men," Braistway moaned, "you just don't understand about romance. I mean, 
  why did they break up? Why did they even get together in the first place? 
  It's all too confusing. And getting assigned to the same ship, that can't be 
  a coincidence."
    "That could be Admiral Aamdbrbp just having a bit of fun, I know he chose 
  Reimann and Sanchez for this ship and knew them both well beforehand." 
  Scorpio considered. 
    "Do you know everyone at the Admiralty Belle?" Braistway asked.
    "Of course not." she replied, stirring her coffee inside the plastic cup with 
  a plastic spoon. "I don't know anyone in the Academy or Fed University."
    "Come on! You've heard of every single brass officer I've heard of and then a 
  few more. Starfleet and Dillons. Even have quite a few of their numbers. Go on, 
  spill the beans." 
  The First Mate cajoled the Medic.
    "Before joining you guys," she said, referring to her new posting on board 
  the ship, "I was one of the on-call Doctors at the Western Board California 
  Medical Practice in San Francisco for a couple years. I was lucky enough to 
  make house calls to pretty much everyone higher up who knew better than to 
  trust Starfleet Medical."
    "Cool! Is that why you confused Chugoku with Sulu when she came on board, 
  similar likeness? Wait, you know the Sulus!" Braistway shrilled.
    "Yes, I met the Sulus. Actually went to see their daughter Nyoko. I removed 
  her inflamed appendix roughly fifteen years ago now. Funny that, both of them 
  being called Nyoko, of course it was so long ago I doubt the Sulus would 
  remember me."
    "Couple years at San Francisco, eh? More like a couple decades!" Braistway 
  joked.
    "Come on now honey, you're making me feel old." Scorpio said, taking a sip of 
  the coffee and almost spitting it back out. "What is this crap?"
    "One believes it is instant coffee." Flash replied.
    "I know its instant, they'd never serve real stuff in a place like this. What 
  I mean is how can they expect anyone to drink it?"
  Braistway looked round, seeing the tens of other crewmen in the room drinking 
  that same coffee without imitating the Doctor's reaction.
    "Everyone else is without complaining. You must have acquired a refined taste 
  while you were playing around with the Admirals." 
  Scorpio didn't bother dignifying Braistway's last statement with an answer, 
  leaving the crew lounge for Sickbay. She took the coffee with knowing that if 
  she left it she'd never live it down.


    "Captain, what can I do for you?" Doctor Scorpio asked when she noticed 
  Reimann enter Sickbay, followed closely as ever by Yeoman Jarvis.
    "You wouldn't have something for a headache would you?" he asked. "It's been 
  bothering me since this morning."
    "This wouldn't be a comment on my dentistry skills would it? Good. Sure thing 
  sugar, just give me a minute." Scorpio replied, quickly taking a medical 
  quadcorder and putting it on scanning the Captain. "Umm...no dangerous 
  external microbiology there, antibody count still normal. Increased count of 
  adrenaline and corticosterone. Looks like plain stress is the cause of your 
  bother."
    "I'm not particularly bothered about what it is Doctor, I just want it to go 
  away."
    "I can give you something to take, though my best advice is simply to slow 
  down and take an extra hour or two off to relax per day for the next couple 
  of weeks."
    "I'll do that Doctor, just as soon as I find a clone of myself to run this 
  ship."
  Scorpio smiled indulgently, and taking the quadcorder off went to the 
  replicator to program it for the specific medication. Reimann meanwhile 
  looked around the large Sickbay, strangely a hub of activity for a ship with 
  only 32 crew.
    "Henry?"
    "Yes?" The Yeoman inquired.
    "Why are there no male medical staff in here?"
    "Oh, you noticed that." she replied.
    "What do you mean 'Oh you noticed that'?"
    "Well, you know the medical staff was selected at random from the available 
  candidates, without any weighting given to gender, species and all that 
  stuff."
    "Continue." Reimann said, inquisitive.
    "Well, despite chances being against it, we've ended up with a completely 
  female medical corps."
    "You're joking."
    "Afraid not."
    "There's not a single medically trained male on board this starship?"
    "Other than basic first aid? Not a solitary one."
    "Go figure." Reimann replied, as Scorpio returned carrying a white tablet in 
  one hand and a glass of water in another.
    "Swallow this and wash it down." She commanded. Reimann did so.
    "Thanks Doc. Listen, you know you haven't got a single male medic on the  
  ship?"
    "Really?" Scorpio looked around Sickbay, checking the evidence for herself. 
    "Well fancy that. Looks like you're right."
    "What happens if, you know..." Reimann continued, coming to a hanging stop as 
  if he wanted to carry on but couldn't.
    "What happens if what sugar?"
    "You know, if we need to talk about manly stuff with a Doctor. Some of the 
  crew members might be a bit uncomfortable speaking to a woman."
    "Come on sir, we're all above mental age five here. Besides, I've pretty much 
  seen it all before."
    "I know, but still, you girls talk about girly stuff right?"
    "I suppose." Scorpio said, conceding the point. "In that case you'll just 
  have to hope we don't end up in that situation."
    "Mental. Absolutely mental." Reimann said, shaking his head and heading out 
  of Sickbay. Henry and Scorpio shared a knowing glace before the Yeoman 
  followed the Captain out and Scorpio returned to her duties.


  Nyoko was about to go searching for a headache cure herself. Thanks to the 
  incident involving a sentient Nebula Cloud, which had escaped onto the ship 
  causing havoc along its path, had left her desperately short of an 
  Engineering staff. In fact, there were only four qualified Engineers on board 
  the ship, the rest of her downscaled staff being composed of officers 
  borrowed from the Sensor and Operations departments. Of course, everyone did 
  their best to maintain things and fix things. The only problem was that their 
  best was most of the time incredibly inadequate and she ended up running 
  behind them fixing whatever they broke. And her mood was not going to be 
  helped by what was about to occur outside. It started when she first started 
  hearing the rhythmic drumming, soon followed by brass and woodwind emanating 
  from the corridors. She ran out of the open-plan Engineering to the wide 
  corridor that led into it, then leapt backwards into Engineering to get out 
  of the way of the marching troupe as they came rumbling forward in neat 
  formation and each one of them playing a musical instrument to the tune of 
  Gimme Some Lovin', the old Blues Brothers song.
    “What do you think you’re doing!” Nyoko shouted, though it was lost in the 
  loudness of the passing ensemble. One of the troupe, noticing the Chief 
  Engineer, jumped out of formation into Engineering, lowering her trombone.
    “Nyoko, you look like you have a problem.” Braistway stated.
    “Braistway! What? I, you…what?”
    “I think the question you’re looking for is ‘What is this First Mate 
  ma'am’?”
    “What is this?” Nyoko asked, ensuring she left out the ‘First Mate ma'am'.
    “Why, I thought it’s a bit obvious. It’s a marching band. No self-respecting 
  starship doesn’t have a marching band.”
    “But there's only eight of you!" Nyoko exclaimed, looking at what was now 
  appearing to be a rather pathetically small attempt at a marching band. "And 
  why here? I don’t care what weird things you get up to off-shift, but can’t 
  you go to a holodeck or something?”
    “Can’t, ain’t big enough. In fact, the Engineering corridors, which as you 
  might know are twice as wide as your standard ship corridor, are the only 
  place we can fit for practice.”
    “What, but, you can’t. I’m trying to run a ship here!”
    “Hey, I’m the First Mate, I approved this. You go run your little 
  department. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Braistway moved past the shocked Chief 
  Engineer and rejoined the column. One of these days, Nyoko swore, she would 
  get her revenge of that woman.


    “Captain, we’re now entering orbit around Cardassia Prime.” Lucas Rascamontes 
  reported from the helm.
    “Excellent. We should have a docking berth assigned at Station 16, hail them 
  and tell them to prepare for us." Reimann ordered.
    "Aye Captain, communication channel open." Flash said from the Tac/Ops 
  console. The view screen flickered to life, showing a female Cardassian 
  wearing a green jumpsuit leaning back in her chair.
    "Station 16, this is Captain Klaus Reimann of the SS Hansean, DCGL-9336. 
  Requesting tractor control for docking."
    "No can do Hansean, we ain't letting anyone in." The Cardassian replied.
    "Why? This is a regular run, the Dillon Consortium had a ship here last 
  month on the same route!"
    "Again Hansean, nothing's going to happen here."
    "Why?" Reimann demanded.
    "Haven't you heard? Half the planet's gone on strike."


    “Okay, here’s what we’ve got.” Reimann began the briefing. “Sixteen days 
  ago, complaining of the appalling working conditions and poor safety 
  equipment the workers of the Northern Cardassian Textiles Corporation walked 
  out of their plant in Lakarian City and went on strike.  In the following 
  days workers at five other plants walked out, totaling close to six thousand 
  workers. Now normally these things stay peaceful, but thirty-five hours ago 
  the protests turned violent when an administration building of United Colours 
  of Cardassian was sacked by an estimated fifty intruders. The strike action 
  has now spread to other textile corporations owned by UCOC, and with close to 
  half of Cardassia Primes population linked in some way to its massive textile 
  industry there are fears that law and order on the entire planet could 
  collapse. As an Associated Power of the Federation, while not being actual 
  members of the Federation we’ve been committed to the rebuilding of the 
  planet since the end of the Dominion War, so when the Cardassian Government 
  asked for help in dealing with this matter the Federation Council decided to 
  act to stabilize the situation, and a Starfleet ship should arrive in about a 
  day's time. Any questions?”
    "So what do we actually do? We've got a schedule to stick by." Braistway 
  asked.
    "I've talked to the higher-ups back at HQ, they've decided that this is a 
  brilliant opportunity for us to broker a deal with the Cardassian companies 
  while they're at their weakest. So they've told me to sort this whole mess 
  up. We try and give them peace in return for a monopoly on Cardassian goods."
    "And if we can't resolve this situation? We're merchants, not a fricking 
  Starfleet ship." This question came from Nyoko.
    "If we can't get a peaceful resolution," Reimann looked out the windows down 
  to the planet below in disgust, "I've been ordered to attempt to sell arms 
  and defense technology to both sides. At a discount of course."
    "Ah, I guess in that case we force them to kiss and make up." Braistway 
  concluded. "I am many things, but an Arms Dealer is most definitely not one 
  of them. What do we know about the workers claims? What are their working 
  conditions actually like?"
    “I haven’t received information about that, its one of the things we’ll have 
  to check out when we get there. However I should point out the workforce is 
  entirely Cardassian, and it has to get very uncomfortable for them to 
  complain about the conditions.”
    “What about the owners company? United Colours of Cardassia?” The First Mate 
  kept up her line of questioning.
    “I got Henry to look them up.” Reimann said, nodding towards his Yeoman.
    “Yah, it’s a bit weird. United Colours of Cardassia is an umbrella 
  corporation consisting of twelve smaller textile companies, the Northern 
  Cardassian Textiles Corporation being the third largest of these. 
  Interestingly enough every one of those twelve companies is owned by a 
  Ferengi.”
    “Ferengi? Ah, case closed.” Braistway said, slapping her hands on the 
  conference table. “Ferengi’s wouldn’t hurt a fly, they’ve been Federation 
  members for nearly a century now? Won’t find a nicer bunch. Looks to me like 
  the Cardassians are getting uppity about something.”
    “Not necessarily.” Henry countered. “The Ferengi you and I know are a pretty 
  recent thing. Not too long ago they were the greediest most avaristic race 
  this side of the quadrant. For over a thousand years their entire 
  civilization was ruled by nearly 300 Rules of Acquisition, which encouraged 
  slave labour, civil liberty repression and profit at all costs. Again, the 
  upheaval caused by the Dominion War and the appointment of several 
  controversial new Grand Nagus’ (rulers of the Ferengi People) changed Ferengi 
  Society into what we know it now as. This event came to be known as the Great 
  Cultural Confusion of the 25th century, it also affected other races such as 
  the Cardassians themselves, reverting from militaristic people to focusing 
  entirely on their textiles industry, the Orions from crime syndicates into 
  slightly less criminally syndicate and the mass transport industry and the 
  Klingons becoming, well, who knows what they are now. Some Ferengi however 
  fought the change in their civilization, and broke away from the mainstream 
  Ferengi. They named themselves the NASDAQ, and set about continuing living 
  their lives as proper Ferengi business men.”
    “What does NASDAQ stand for honey?” Dr Scorpio asked Henry.
    “The Nominative Association for the Supplantation of the Dastardly Avaristic 
  Quark. This Quark fellow was the original activist for the continuation of 
  traditional Ferengi values and the NASDAQ an organization set up to fight 
  them. Quark liked the name so much he bought the rights for it off them and 
  set up his own mini-Ferengi Empire. I believe that these businessmen are 
  members of NASDAQ, or subscribe to its beliefs anyway.”
    “Thanks Henry.” Reimann said. “Dillon Consortium gets 80% of it's Cardassian 
  Textiles from the UCOC, we've had a decent contract with them for a while so 
  it's in our best interests to sort this out soon, specially before that 
  Starfleet ship arrives because you know how they'll react. Plus there's a 
  decent chance we can get them to lower their prices, or at least sign a new 
  contract with a different more stable company again with loads of savings for 
  the company. So here's what’s happening: myself, Henry, GorDonTer and 
  Dr. Scorpio will beam down and we’ll meet representatives from both the 
  workers faction and the owners, find out what’s happening. Rascamontes and 
  Lombardo will go to Lakarian City while we’re meeting the higher-ups, I want 
  you to go undercover, find local people there and try and find out what’s 
  really happening. Braistway meanwhile, you’ll be in charge up here. Both away 
  teams meet me in Transporter Room One in half an hour. Let's get to it.”


  Reimann, Henry, Flash and Dr. Scorpio materialized outside a tall glass 
  skyscraper. Scorpio whistled appreciatively at the structure. Over a hundred 
  feet in height the warm Cardassian sun reflected off its glass windows, 
  hurting her eyes whenever she looked at it too long.
    “Come on then.” Reimann said, setting off. “We’ve got ourselves some Ferengi 
  businessmen to meet.” Walking through the large revolving doors the group 
  arrived in the reception hall, a massive marble room with a round desk 
  situated in the middle. When they arrived at the desk the Ferengi 
  receptionist looked up at them from his chair.
    “I suppose you’re that Dillon Consortium lot.” He stated brusquely.
    “Yes, I’m Captain Klaus Reimann of the SS Hansean…”
    “Yah, yah, yah. Sign the book with your name, the name of whom you’re coming 
  to see and time of entry. Here, have some passes, keep them on you at all 
  times or you won’t be able to get through at some of the doors. Someone 
  should be on their way to collect you momentarily. Sign the book also when 
  you leave. Please take a seat. Thank you and hope you find your visit 
  profitable.”
  As the receptionist had been speaking Reimann and his team filled out the 
  book, and clipped the passes onto their uniforms. The receptionist had 
  indicated a seating area to the right of the reception desk composed of a 
  comfortable black leather sofa and a few armchairs. Also there was a small 
  glass coffee table covered by magazines. As they waited for their attendant 
  Henry and Scorpio skimmed through the various Home and Fashion Magazines as 
  Reimann looked on wondering how anyone could possibly be interested in those 
  things.
    “Greetings Captain, my apologies in taking so long to get to you. The Board 
  is now prepared to see you.”
  Reimann turned and looked at an elderly Ferengi in a bright yellow and orange 
  business suit and stood up.
    “No problem. Will the entire board be present?”
    “Of course, this is a matter of the highest priority for us. Now if you’d 
  follow me?” The elderly Ferengi moved off, walking behind the reception desk 
  and into a wide lift. Reimann and the others joined him there.
    “Meeting Room Thirteen.” The lift started moving complying with the demand.
  “We seem to be heading down?” Reimann asked.
  “Yes, we’re heading down to near the vaults. The board likes having their 
    meetings down where they can see all their latinum.” The Ferengi explained, 
  grinning viciously. “And they have a lot of latinum.”
  The lift then stopped and the doors opened to reveal a large boardroom. 
  Various lamps positioned around the room lighted the shiny black walls, and a 
  large long black wood table took up most of the space. At the far end sat an 
  elderly Ferengi at the head of the table, with six slightly younger (though 
  still elderly) ones seated at either side of him, thirteen in total.
    “Welcome Captain Reimann.” The oldest Ferengi commenced.
    “I bring greetings from Dillon Consortium and a hope that this situation 
  will be quickly and peacefully resolved.” Reimann replied.
    “Indeed, indeed. Please sit down.” The Ferengi said, indicating another chair 
  at the opposite end of the table. Reimann sat down in it, with his three 
  crewmembers standing behind him. “A Ferengi business is run with precision. A 
  Ferengi's workforce requires nothing less! Tradition, discipline, and rules 
  must be the tools. Without them - disorder! Chaos! Moral disintegration! In 
  short, we have a ghastly mess!”
    “I quite agree.” Reimann said. The elderly Ferengi continued,
    “The workforce must be molded, shaped and taught, that life's a looming 
  battle to be faced and fought. If they must go on lunch hours, these lunch 
  hours ought to be fraught with purpose, yes and practicality! These silly 
  words like environme... environme... environme...” 
    “Environmentalism?” The Captain ventured.
    “Yes, well done, you said it! And popping on paid vacation, has little use, 
  fulfills no basic need! They've got to learn the honest truth, despite their 
  youth, they must learn...”
    “About the life you lead!”
    “Exactly!”
    “They must feel the thrill of totting up a balanced book, a thousand ciphers 
  neatly in a row. When gazing at a graph that shows the profits up their 
  little cup of joy should overflow.” Reimann explained, the Ferengi nodding 
  their heads in agreement.
    “Precisely!”
    “It's time they learned to walk in your footsteps.”
    “My footsteps!”
    “To tread your straight and narrow path with pride.”
    “With pride!”
    “Sir, I believe we’ve reached an understanding. I hope to meet you again, 
  perhaps tomorrow? With a workers representative?”
    “Indeed!”
    “Nice one. Tomorrow, just as you suggest pressed and dressed. I will be at y
  our side. Good day.” The meeting finished Reimann got up and left, followed 
  by the confused away team. They were silent as they went up in the lift, 
  signed out at reception and left the building through the main doors.
    “What freaking was that?” Henry shouted incredously.
    “What was what?” Reimann asked.
    “That!” Henry replied, gesturing back towards the skyscraper.
    “You did speak a bit odd sugar.” Dr. Scorpio agreed with Henry.
    “Oh, that. Well, you just have to know how to speak to the right kind of 
  people. And I got all I needed to know out of them.”
    “Such as?” Henry asked.
    “To start, they’re not normal Ferengi, they’re NASDAQ.” Reimann replied. 
    "Which means that when negotiating we can pretty much expect to throw the 
  moral card out the window. Plus they're interested enough in this matter that 
  they all showed up, or at least they bothered to get people their to act like 
  they were all present to make us think that. Anyway, I won't say any more 
  until we've met with the Workers."
 
 
    "So what chwee doing now?" Sensor Specialist Giuseppi Lombardo asked after 
  the ship's transporter materialised himself and Rascamontes in a back alley 
  in the centre of Lakarian City.
    "Pretty easy, lets go find a seedy bar. Get a few drinks, ask a few 
  questions, get a few answers." Rascamontes replied. "Is this holo-imager 
  thing working?" He asked. Previous to leaving the ship both himself and 
  Lombardo had been given the latest in portable holo-technology: a holoimager 
  which projected just on top the skin, giving the two Cardassian appearance 
  without having to go through the ordeal of plastic surgery. After replicating 
  some local clothing they were indistinguishable from the normal Cardassian 
  populace. Apart from Lombardo's horribly Italian accent.
    "Shure, chou lookie good."
    "Okay, lets move." Rascamontes led on, heading out of the alley onto the 
  crowded market street. The entire area was engulfed by Cardassians handing 
  out leaflets and shouting slogans about the resistance against the capitalist 
  forces of the giant textile companies, and others trying to avoid them while 
  going about their daily business. Not wanting to look lost Rascamontes began 
  walking at pace in a random direction, Lombardo almost running behind in 
  order to keep up. After several minutes of purposeful aimless wandering 
  Rascamontes found a rustic drinking establishment down one of the many dark 
  alleys. Checking to make sure Lombardo was still with him, he took one last 
  breath of fresh air and pushed the door open following it through.
  Even though it was just approaching local midday the bar was full, so 
  Rascamontes began fighting his war towards the bar. One or two faces turned 
  to see who had come in, but quickly returned to their drinks and 
  conversations satisfied with knowing who had entered. Once he reached the bar 
  he elbowed his way to the front and caught one of the bartenders attention.
    "Two ales, whatever stuff you've got." The bartender nodded and set about 
  filling two drinks out of a barrel. Drinks were varied from one planet to 
  another, but beer in all its wonderful incarnations was always a constant no 
  matter where you went. Rascamontes could of ordered lager if he wanted and 
  not been able to tell the difference from the stuff he normally drank, but 
  judging by the character of the bar a good ale or bitter would help them fit 
  in better.
    "It's Yonis-Terr." The bartender said as he handed Rascamontes two full tin 
  mugs referring to the brand of ale. "Forty."
  Rascamontes handed over the money requested, took the drinks. He found 
  Lombardo lost still near the door, unable to fight his way forward.
    "Honestly, haven't you been in a bar before? Come on, let’s find a table."
  It didn't take long for them to find a table at the back of the bar, although 
  by that point Lombardo had started coughing and complaining of all the smoke 
  and lack of fresh air.
    "Now whatie we waity fore?" Lombardo asked.
    "Not a problem, we just drink. I’m scanning.” Rascamontes replied.
    “Scanning? But you not wearing a quadcorderie!”
    “Not that type of scanning. I’m checking out the patrons. The customers.” 
  Rascamontes looked around the bar, pausing only slightly to take a drink of 
  his ale. Finally he found what he was looking for. “Okay, you stay here and 
  look pretty, the master will return shortly.”
  Leaving a very confused Lombardo at the table he walked over towards a sofa 
  and some chairs in one sofa. He composed himself and took a deep breath. It’s 
  showtime. Once more into the breach dear friends, once more.
    “Wow, have I just stuck a canoe in my pocket or is it you beauties doing this 
  to me?” He shouted, diving forward and placing himself in the middle of the 
  sofa between several Cardassian women. He pretended to try to smooth his 
  crotch out with his hands while he continued speaking loudly. “Seriously, 
  it’s not fair. How are we supposed to behave with so many sexy ladies 
  clouding my mind? You’ve turned me into an animal! Grrrrrr!” Rascamontes 
  growled, before taking one of the women and planting a big wet kiss smack 
  on her lips. As he did this he saw the incredolous looks on the faces of the 
  men around him, and the delirious looks of the other women as they looked on 
  jealously. They couldn’t wait to get a piece of him. 
    “Look mate, come talk with me over ‘ere.” A slightly rotund Cardassian man 
  said, taking Rascamontes by the shoulders the manoeuvring him away from the 
  women.
    “Hey, can’t help myself. Animal magentism baby!” Rascamontes said loudly. The 
  women giggled and got together in little groups, casting quick furtive 
  glances at Rascamontes and giggling even more. Lombardo jumped up from his 
  table and rushed over towards them, intent on helping out should there be a 
  fight.
    “Oi, whatcha doing to my friendie?” Lombardo said.
    “Oh, we were just going for a chat.” The Cardassian man replied. “Who are 
  you?”
    “Just workers, from the North. On strike, decided to come down here where 
  the action is, try to help out.” Rascamontes said. “And enjoy the company 
  here!” He said, blowing a kiss towards the girls. Once again this elicited 
  another round of giggles.
    “Workers? Same here friend.” Their new Cardassian ‘friend’ said. “Listen, 
  you guys not afraid of a little hard work, ready to do what you can to help 
  the cause?”
    “Oh yeah.” Rascamontes said.
    “Brilliant, there’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”
 
 
   “Captain Reimann, hello. I’m glad to finally meet you.” A tall Cardassian 
  male, with the standard dark gelled-back hair common to his race told 
  Reimann. “I’m afraid we haven’t got any spare room where we can sit down and 
  talk, perhaps you’d like to walk with me through the camp?” Reimann nodded 
  the affirmative, and the Cardassian, Reimann and their respective entourages 
  set off throughout what had been called the camp. In reality it was a load of 
  Cardassians with placards, the odd fire and one or two tents, protesting 
  outside the Lakarian City Headquarters for the United Colours of Cardassia.
  “We’ve been protesting here for five days now, and we’ll stay here until we 
  reach a settlement.” Kallat, the tall Cardassian and leader of the Lakarian 
  City protesters, told Reimann. “I can tell you now I’m speaking for everyone 
  about that. Our movement’s spontaneous so we haven’t got much of a command 
  structure, but the will of the people is united.”
  “Ah, excuse me Mr. Kallat, but what exactly are you protesting against?”
  “What aren’t we protesting against! We work in pitiful conditions for next to 
  no wages, and I tell you Captain, there isn’t much job satisfaction in 
  knitting sweaters. But it’s not just affecting us workers: our entire culture 
  deserves ridicule: we were once one of the greatest empires in the Galaxy! 
  And look at us now, crammed into sweatshops working for some stupid Ferengi. 
  My people cannot, we will not, stand for this situation for much longer.”
  “I don’t understand what you want from me here Mr. Kallat.” Reimann said. “I 
  can hardly give you back control over planets which gained their independence 
  over a hundred years ago just because you demand it!”
  “You know what our position is. Of course Captain we don’t expect to regain 
  our former glory. But we have demands and expect all of them to be met, and I 
  assure you that once you see them you will agree with me that they are 
  perfectly reasonable.”
  “Would I be able to see a list of these demands?” Reimann asked. Kallat 
  nodded to an aide, who rushed forward and handed him a padd before retreating. 
  Kallat gave this padd to Reimann.
  “Thanks. I have arranged a meeting with the owners of the UCOC tomorrow. I 
  would ask you to try to come up with a team of negotiators, no more than four 
  or five, to negotiate on behalf of all the workers. I will be mediating, so 
  ensure that the representative’s chosen will be able to officially speak for 
  the striking workers and will be open to any solutions proposed during the 
  negotiations. It will be necessary for both sides to compromise and I will 
  not put up with any bellicose representatives.” Reimann informed Kallat 
  seriously.
  “Of course Captain, of course. Perhaps I can talk with you privately about 
  the negotiations tomorrow? We shan’t be overheard if we speak away from the 
  camp.” Kallat mentioned off towards the left of the camp, where there was a 
  public park. 
  “Sure.” Reimann turned to Dr. Scorpio, Henry and Flash. “Remain here, we 
  won’t be too long.”
  “Yes sir.” Henry replied as Reimann and Kallat walked off into the park. 
  Kallats entourage also stood around waiting, their leader having also told 
  them to stay. One member of this group stared after the departing leaders, 
  before turning round so nobody could see him and whispered into a 
  communicator.
  
  
  "What is it you wanted to talk to be about?" Reimann asked when himself and 
  Kallat had put enough distance between themselves and the camp so as to not 
  be overheard.
  "I must inform you, there are more than one force at work in this camp 
  Captain." Kallat said. Reimann looked confused, so Kallat continued talking. 
  "I represent a peaceful majority of workers, who want nothing less than 
  getting back to work in decent conditions and with decent pay. But there is a 
  minority among us that believe that the time has come for a violent 
  revolution to return Cardassia to the Cardassian population."
  "I'm guessing they were responsible for the attack on that UCOC Admin 
  building?"
  "That is correct Captain." 
  "So why are you telling me this? If you truly represent the majority, it's up 
  to you or the planet's security forces to sort them out. In any case, a 
  Starfleet ship will be here tomorrow. Why not leave it to them?" Reimann 
  asked.
  "We believe they are going to try and buy weapons off the Dillon Consortium." 
  Kallat said. "This must not be allowed to happen. Once they are properly 
  armed a civil war will break out, of that I am certain. Can you guarantee to 
  me now that you will not sell weapons to them?"
  "The Dillon Consortium is committed to a peaceful resolution of the strike 
  action." Reimann replied, giving him the line HQ had told him to give.
  "So you can't assure me you or someone from your company won't supply the 
  revolutionaries with weapons?" Kallat asked. Reimann turned away and walked 
  back towards the main camp, unable to answer. "Then all is lost." Kallat said 
  behind him, and slowly followed Reimann back.
  
  
  Braistway sat in the cockpit of the River Running, the FDV (Fast Delivery 
  Vehicle) assigned to the Hansean. Alongside the several raceabouts and the 
  Hansean capable of carrying and delivery vast amounts of cargo, the Dillon 
  Consortium ran a Rapid Transit Delivery Service for small packages which 
  would be delivered faster than through the usual methods. And so the River 
  Running and others of its kind had been built, all engines with a little 
  cockpit and cabin attached for the pilot. Where as a normal cargo vessel 
  might do Earth to Waystation in just under a week, the River Running could do 
  the journey in less than a day.
  And it was Braistway's favourite. Of all the ships and vessels she'd piloted, 
  this was by far the best. Fast and manoeuvrable, it could easily out-race any 
  Starfleet ship and out-manoeuvre any Tholian vessel. So she sat in the 
  cockpit, pressing the buttons to bring the ship to life. She leaned back in 
  the pilots chair and closed her eyes, revelling in the accelerating thrumming 
  of the impulse engines as they started-up. Impulse engines up and running, 
  she leaned back over the board, priming the fuel injection pipes. The ship 
  started shaking, time to adjust the inertial dampeners. She was about to 
  start of the pre-flight checks when she heard  the distinctive noise of a 
  transporter behind her. She swivelled round in her chair, and saw Nyoko 
  materialise.
  "What do you think you're doing!" she screamed at Braistway.
  "What does it look like I'm doing? Engine initialisation and pre-flight 
  checks." Braistway replied, matter-of-factly.
  "I, you, engines...Arrgghh!!!!" Nyoko screamed, unable to get a full 
  comprehensible sentence out.
  "Come out with it, better out than in." Braistway reassured her.
  "You could have killed me! I was in the Impulse Engine Manifolds! If I hadn't 
  heard the primers starting up and jumped out of there I'd have been vaporized 
  by plasma by now! Didn't you look at the maintenance schedule?"
  "Of course I did. I'm not stupid."
  "Oh wonderful." Nyoko fumed. "You're not grossly incompetent, you're just out 
  to kill me. Wonderful."
   "Calm down dear, you're still alive."
  "Calm down? Calm down? You nearly killed me! You uncaring bitch, you nearly
   killed me!"
  "Nearly, but not quite." Braistway said, turning the chair back towards the 
  pilot’s controls. "Now go away." Braistway activated the transporter 
  controls, locking on Nyoko and sending her back to Engineering. With the 
  annoyance gone she leaned back in her chair and focused on the noises the 
  engines were making. It was amazing how relaxing they could be, and she'd had 
  a stressful day. 
  
  
  "Hey there gorgeous, how you doin'?"
  "Excuse me?" Henry turned to see one of Kallat's entourage talking to her. 
  For a Cardassian he was pretty good looking: the typical dark brushed back 
  hair didn't help hide a very narrow face, but the man was well built and had 
  extremely well developed shoulder ridges, something she knew all Cardassian 
  women looked for in a man. And he had a lot of confidence.
  "I'm Wek Seleya, whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?" The Cardassian 
  asked.
  "Henry Labrapoulos." Henry replied, as Seleya took her hand and kissed it, 
  Henry giggling in shock.
  "Perhaps I can interest you in a walk with me? The mountains around Lakarian 
  City are said to be the best and greenest in all of Cardassia."
  "Don't you have a strike to be paying attention to?" Henry asked.
  "Bah, what is the point if you cannot enjoy life and see nature's beauty. 
  Come, we can take a jetty up to the top of Mount Herrow and walk in the 
  forest. I assure you it is an opportunity not to be missed." Every fibre in 
  Henry's being was shouting at her that this was a bad idea, heading out into 
  the wilderness with a Cardassian she'd only met a few seconds ago, but the 
  offer was very promising...
    "Go on honey, have some fun." Dr. Scorpio said, joining Henry and Seleya.
    "Yes, listen to your lovely friend. Cardassia and Lakarian City have many 
  wonders to offer." Seleya continued pressing Henry.
    "Oh, go on then..." Henry started saying.
    "Brilliant, my jetty's just parked around the corner..."
    "But I'd like Dr. Scorpio to come with us." Henry finished.
    "Of course, I would be honoured to have the company of two lovely women. 
  Please, this way." Seleya said, taking Scorpio and Henry by the arms and 
  leading them away from the camp.
  
  
    "Okay then, progress reports everybody." Reimann said, sitting at the head of 
  the conference table. "I might as well start off: we've met with both the 
  leaders of the workers strike action and the owners of the companies and 
  we've got them both to agree to a meeting tomorrow morning in a neutral 
  location in Lakarian City, I've managed to get the civil authorities to lend 
  me a conference centre in the middle of Lakarian city. I've also found a lead 
  into who the armed rebels are, the worker's union leader informed me that 
  they may attempt to buy weapons of us. What have the rest of you done?" 
  Reimann looked at the others around the table, only now noticing that several 
  of them were missing. In fact there was only himself and Flash who had gone 
  down to the planet surface, and Nyoko and Braistway who had stayed aboard. 
    "Errr...where are the rest of you?"
    "How should I know?" Braistway answered. "Last time I heard from Lombardo and 
  Rascamontes they were still undercover, and Dr. Scorpio and Henry have gone 
  walkabout with a random Cardassian. Sanchez is holed up with the rest of her 
  accountants going ape about how much this delay is costing us, and quite 
  frankly I'm only here for the doughnuts." She stopped talking as she had a 
  bite from one of said doughnuts.
    "Okay then, anything happen up here?" Reimann asked.
    "Oh nothing important, just an attempted homicide!" Nyoko shrieked.
    "Wonderful, glad to hear you two are able to keep things running efficiently 
  without me." Reimann mused, completely oblivious to what Nyoko had answered. 
    "Leanne, let's get started planning this meeting. We're going to need some 
  kind of big table, get talking to Holo-Bradley and start going through our 
  current freight, we're bound to have something suitable. Get some decorations 
  and balloons and stuff up, make the place look nice and hospitable. And some 
  flags, a Federation one, a Cardassian one and a Dillon’s Consortium one, 
  make the meeting look official."
    "Sure, I'll get some people on it." Braistway said, reaching for another 
  doughnut.
    "What about music, maybe we should have some kind of entertainment going on 
  as the delegates arrive?" Reimann asked.
    "I don't know, we haven't got any bands on board that could play that kind of 
  gig." Braistway pondered.
    "Sure we have." Nyoko said, a grin spreading on her face. "What about our 
  marching band. Why, I believe our good First Mate herself is a member of it."
    "Wow, I didn't know we had a marching band on board Leanne." Reimann said.
    "We don't! I mean we can't!" Braistway exclaimed. "There's only eight of us, 
  and we only know one song!"
    "Wonderful, that's a date then." Reimann said.
    "But we only know one stupid song!" Braistway countered, grasping at any 
  excuse that would mean she wouldn't have to perform. She'd only started the 
  band as a way to annoy people!
    "I'm sure you'll be great. Tell you what, I'll sort everything else out, you 
  go round everyone else up and get practicing. I'm actually looking forward to 
  this now!" Reimann said, getting up and leaving the room. Nyoko also got out 
  of her chair, sticking her tongue out at Braistway as she left.
    "Looks like she beat you there." Flash said, revelling in the first mate's 
  discomfort.
    "Shut it bushboy." Braistway jibed back, taking one last doughnut and 
  following the others out the door. 
  
  
  Rascamontes and Lombardo, still holo-disguised as Cardassians, ducked as they 
  entered a cave in the Lakarian Mountains with their guide who they'd picked 
  up at the dodgy bar back in Lakarian City.
    "Trust me, this guy is the one we're all looking for." The guide said, 
  heading deeper into the cave.
    "Yes, death to all the scummy Ferengi!" Rascamontes said, getting into his 
  role as a disgruntled worker leaning towards violent tendencies.
    "Yessi! Killi them all!" Lombardo repeated.
    "True patriots! Men after my own heart!" Their guide said. "Listen, just wait 
  here for a minute, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Rascamontes and 
  Lombardo nodded their understanding, and stood twiddling their thumbs for 
  several minutes until another Cardassian climbed into the cave.
    "Iyalla! Good to see you again!" the newcomer said, embracing the guide.
    "Seleya! Well, well. It is good to see you." The guide, Iyalla, replied. 
    "Listen, I've found some good men here. I think you could use them."
    "Can they be trusted?" Seleya asked.
    "Of course, do you not trust my judgment?" Iyalla said, pretending to be 
  offended. "Fellow strikers from the northern factories, here to show their 
  support for our cause. Have you got anything they could do?"
    "As a matter of fact, yes." Seleya contemplated. "I do. Those idiots from the 
  Consortium, they've managed to arrange a meeting between the bosses and 
  Kallat and his fools."
    "Ah, you're thinking of Plan B?" Iyalla said.
    "Yes, yes I am. Think your friends can handle it?"
    "Sure, no problem. Four or five will easily make it in. You're not going to 
  the meeting?"
    "Of course not, Kallat knows nothing would be accomplished if I was to make a 
  show. Which, as it happens, we will." Seleya started laughing manically, 
  Iyalla joining in. "Now excuse me, I happen to have a date with one of the 
  Consortium."
    "The cute red-haired one?" Iyalla asked.
    "Yes, of course." Seleya said, grinning. "We went for a walk with one of her 
  friends, and she invited me to her ship for dinner."
    "And you accepted?" Iyalla said incredously.
    "That I did." Seleya replied. "Just because I plan to bomb the Dukat out of 
  them doesn't mean I can't have some fun before then!"
  Rascamontes only just managed to get his hand on front of Lombardo's mouth 
  before he shouted out. By the time Lombardo stopped struggling and quietened 
  down Seleya was walking out, and Iyalla was turning to speak to them.
    "Plan B? What's that?" Rascamontes asked, trying to appear honest.
    "Why, our good friend Seleya mentioned it." Iyalla replied. "The B stands for 
  Bomb the Dukat out of them! Now come, we have many preparations to attend to. 
  You will be launching a true strike for the freedom of Cardassia!"  
  
  
    "I must say, this is very nice. I especially like the food." Seleya said, 
  attempting to use his chopsticks.
    "Yah, quite a good selection for the crew lounge." Henry commented. For the 
  evening the holo-lounge had been converted into an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese 
  buffet, except the replicators had been set not to allow anyone to order 
  knifes and forks. Henry was perfectly adept with chopsticks, but the 
  Cardassian was finding it difficult to get stuck into his meal. "Please 
  Seleya..."
    "Call me Wek." Seleya said, smiling.
    "...Wek, tell me more about the Lakarian Wilderness, you seem to know so much 
  about it."
    "My dear old Dad use to love it, he'd spend all his free time up there and I 
  with him. Truly magical place."
    "Your Dad use to love it?" Henry asked. "What happened?"
    "He died." Seleya replied. 
    "Oh, I'm so sorry." Henry said truthfully. Why did she have to always bring 
  up unfortunate topics like that whenever she was on a date with someone?
    "It's alright, he died for what he believed in. They were planning to knock 
  down a forest to build a new textiles factory at the south of the City, and 
  Dad didn't want them to, said it would destroy the mountain jarget's habitat. 
  So himself and some others chained themselves to the biggest trees in the 
  forest before the bull dozers moved in."
    "What happened?"
    "The Ferengi couldn't care less there were people in the way, they sent out 
  the bulldozers regardless. My Dad died tied to a tree."
    "Oh my word! I'm so sorry!" Henry cried.
    "Please, it was a long time ago. Let's talk about something more positive. 
  What about you? Any family?" Seleya asked.
    "Well, I was born on the Venus colonies, my Mum and Dad still live there 
  alongside my younger brother. I wanted a bit of adventure so I signed up with 
  the Consortium, and here I am today."
    "Why the Consortium?" Seleya asked.
    "It's decent pay and Starfleet are a load of ponces." Henry replied, 
  finishing her meal. "What about you, never had the urge to get off 
  Cardassia?"
    "Why? All that I love is here, there's no reason to leave. I think this is my 
  first time on board anything in space."
    "Really! Wow, you must get out more." Henry said laughing. "Come on, let's go 
  get dessert. Jelly and ice cream, a human delicacy!" Seleya gave up trying to 
  eat his main meal and followed Henry over to the dessert buffet.
   
  
  Meanwhile, on the bridge, Flash's console started beeping at him.
    "Captain, one detects a Starfleet vessel entering the system."
    "On screen." Reimann said, getting up from the command chair. The view screen 
  flickered to life, showing the Starfleet ship. "Well, they arrived early, 
  wasn't expecting them for at least another 12 hours. Must of shot her 
  engines up to get here." As Reimann mused Braistway had also got up and had 
  been staring at the screen quietly. Reimann noticed this. "What is it 
  Leanne?"
    "Identify that ship." She asked Flash.
    "Identified as the USS Misacmos, NCC-712429."
    "Oh dear." Braistway said.
    "What's the problem?" Reimann asked concerned.
    "That's Marvel's ship." the First Mate said.
    "Captain Marvin 'the Marvel' Jakes?" Reimann asked. "My, we are honoured. 
  What have you got against him?"
    "He's the one that got me kicked out of Starfleet." Braistway explained. She 
  saw Reimann was going to ask for a further explanation, so she continued 
  talking. “Don’t ask, it was a bad incident involving a slight 
  miscommunication, an awful lot of custard and the odd transvestite Klingon. 
  You seriously don’t want to know.
    "Oh." Reimann said. "I guess we also have to invite him to the meeting 
  tomorrow huh?"
  Braistway just nodded, collapsing back into her chair with a heavy sigh.
  
  
  Reimann stood at the head of a large mahogany table in the Lakarian City 
  Conference Centre, looking around the hall as the final preparations were 
  made. There were places either side of the long table ready for each party: 
  the striking Cardassians would be seated to his left, and the Ferengi 
  business owners to his right. Behind Reimann’s seats were two more: one for 
  Captain Jakes and another one beside it for Commander Banar’techno, Jakes’ 
  Jem’Hadar security officer.
    “You may be a complete waste of space, Riceman, but you do know how to throw 
  a conference together.” Jakes said examining the various flags and other 
  decorations around the hall.
    “Thank you Captain Jakes.” Reimann replied, trying to appear cordial. “We’ve 
  even got some musical accompaniment to kick start the proceedings, a marching 
  band.”
    “Wonderful, wonderful.” Jakes said, sitting down on his chair. “Who’s in 
  charge of that then?”
    “My First Mate is, she should be arriving along with the band shortly.” 
  Reimann said, and then spotted a group of eight people carrying varying 
  instruments walking in through the main door. “Ah, there they are. Leanne! 
  Leanne!” he shouted. Resigned to being seen, one of the troupe walked up to 
  Reimann. When Jakes recognised whom it was he jumped straight out of his 
  chair and backed away towards his hulking security guard.
    “Braistway!”
    “Marvel.” Braistway replied calmly before turning to address the Jem’Hadar. 
    “Banar’techno, you’ve been working out.”
    “Bodybuilding is Life.” The security officer replied. Absentmindedly he moved 
  his head to observe the other members of the marching band, countless neck 
  muscles flexing to accommodate his new posture.
    “Captain Rayman,” Jakes started, “you would do well to reconsider your choice 
  of First Mate.”
    “Now there’s no need for harsh words like that.” Reimann said. “Leanne, 
  everything ready?”
    “Yes, pretty much. But Captain, I must repeat, we only know one song…”
    “I’m sure it’s a great one. Now go and line up or whatever it is you do, the 
  parties should be arriving any minute now.” As Leanne turned to leave Jakes 
  went to speak again, but a glare from Reimann made him decide that remaining 
  quiet would be the best course of action.
  A few minutes later the Cardassian party arrived. Reimann shook hands with 
  Kallat and introduced the leader to Captain Jakes. The Cardassian shook hands 
  with the Starfleet Captain, but he and his party eyed the Jem’Hadar 
  Banar’techno suspiciously and continued to do so for some time until the 
  Ferengi party arrived. Once again Reimann repeated the greeting, introducing 
  Captain Jakes to the Ferengi delegation leader. Once the introductions were 
  finished Reimann sat down at the head of the table, and everyone else took 
  their seats.
    “Thank you for coming everyone, I am content in the knowledge that we will be 
  able to work out a deal that benefits all of us today.” Reimann said. “Now, 
  before we start, lets have a quick musical entrance. Leanne?” The Captain 
  turned towards his First Mate, who nodded to the other seven members of the 
  marching band and began playing their one song: Gimme Some Lovin' by the 
  Blues Brothers and marching up and down the room. When they finished they 
  received some polite applause from those present.
    “Thank you, brilliantly played.” Reimann said, clapping along with the 
  others. He then stood up. “And now I hope you will stand with me in respect 
  for each of our national anthems. Let us begin with the Federation national 
  anthem. Leanne, please?”
    “Captain, we…” Braistway began pleading, and then gave up. Everyone had stood 
  up and was waiting for the anthem to begin, including Captain Jakes and 
  Commander Banar’techno who held their hands over their hearts and held their 
  heads up proudly.
    “What do we do?” Franz, one of the ship’s accountants who played the drums 
  asked desperately. His face had turned a pale shade of white.
    “We play dammit.” Braistway replied firmly. So she began playing the Blues 
  Brothers song again, the rest of the band quickly falling in with the tune. 
  Once that was finished Reimann clapped again, the others joining in confused, 
  Jakes scowling.
    “And now the Cardassian anthem please.” Reimann asked. Braistway looked at
  him incredously, her mouth opening and closing though no sound came out. 
  Eventually she shrugged and played the same song again with the marching 
  band.
    “And to finish the Ferengi national anthem Leanne.” Reimann said trying to 
  appear serious, though the humour of the situation had started to get to him. 
  By now the band didn’t care, and gave the best rendition of Gimme Some 
  Lovin' of the day. “Wonderful, now the pleasantries are over we can start 
  talking…” Reimann was distracted as a Cardassian figure ran into the 
  auditorium, followed by another in much distress.
    “Captain, it’s Rascamontes!” The Cardassian figure shouted, ripping away a 
  device on his left arm. The Cardassian shimmered and the image was replaced 
  by Rascamontes’ true form. “There’s a bomb! It’s about to go off!”
    “Jakes to Misacmos!” The Starfleet Captain was the first to react “Lilac 
  Wellingtons! I repeat, Lilac Wellingtons! Mass Transport Evac now!” 
  The bomb, which had been planted under the table, exploded.
  
  
    “Whew, that was a close one.” Reimann whistled appreciatively, surveying the 
  damage the bomb had done to the conference hall. The mahogany table had for 
  the most part completely disappeared, only a few splinters remained dotted 
  across the room. The flags had burned, and the once cream coloured walls had 
  been turned black by the explosion. And the door had come off its hinges and 
  rested halfway to the next city.
    “You bet it was Ray-ban.” Marvel Jakes said, unimpressed with the entire 
  affair. “If it hadn’t been for the Misacmos you’d have severely screwed up. 
  As it stands, the situation can be saved. By me, not you.”
    “Now you hold here, it’s only thanks to my undercover men we were warned 
  about the bomb and managed to escape with everyone unharmed.” Reimann argued.
    “It’s time for the amateurs to leave and the professionals to take over. 
  You’ve got no business on this planet now Raintan, I want your ship out of 
  this sector before the day is out, or you’ll be forcibly removed. Is that 
  understood? Wonderful.” Jakes didn’t wait for Reimann to reply, just left him 
  and wandered off towards the door.
  
  
  Reimann sat in another conference room, this time back on board the Hansean. 
  He again sat at the head of the table, head down into his chest, sulking, 
  Sanchez sitting at a chair next to him and Braistway wandering around the 
  room.
    “So what now, do we just leave?” Sanchez asked.
    “Looks like it.” Reimann said. “Starfleet has jurisdiction here, Jakes could 
  easily disable us and tractor us out of the sector.”
    “I can’t believe we’re just going to let him win like that!” Braistway said, 
  infuriated.
    “We’re not letting him win, there is nothing to win.” Reimann said. “We’re 
  not competing, and our plan simply didn’t work.”
    “You know how he’s going to mess everything up though? He’ll go after the 
  Cardassians who did the bombing, except he’ll never be able to find them 
  because they’ll have gone underground with the entire planet protecting them. 
  The Ferengi are going to retaliate somehow for the bombing, probably a whole 
  load of lay-offs, and there’ll be a civil war. We’re the only ones around 
  here who can stop it!” Braistway said, trying to swing Reimann back into 
  action. “Besides, I played that bloody song far too many times on front of an 
  audience for nothing to come from it!”
    “What do you think Soledad?” Reimann asked Sanchez.
    “Cut our losses, get out while we can. I’ve been looking at the books, that’s 
  what they say. We’ve made a loss, but we can sell on our merchandise 
  somewhere else and still make a profit.” Sanchez, ever the accountant, 
  reasoned.
    “I don’t know.” Reimann said quietly, and concentrated on the table. Sanchez 
  took his hand and held it in hers.
    “Listen Klaus, there’s somebody pretty senior in the company here now, I say 
  you should follow the advice they give.” With this realisation Reimann 
  brightened up, and his eyes seemed to sparkle again.
    “You’re right! Exactly right!” Reimann jumped out of his chair and rushed out 
  the room.
    “Where you going?” Braistway asked, surprised at the sudden change in 
  Reimann’s demeanour.
    “I’m going to talk to Bradley Dillon!” Reimann said and disappeared into a 
  turbolift. Braistway turned to the fuming Sanchez.
    “You gonna get him fired?” she asked the Head of the Consortium’s Accounting 
  Division and member of the Board of Executives.
    “Damn straight.” Sanchez replied.
   
  
  Reimann rushed into the Hansean’s Supply Depot searching for Holo-Bradley. He 
  found the hologram of the company’s founder grinning behind a counter.
    “Just the one I was looking for!” Reimann exclaimed, shaking Holo-Bradley’s 
  hand.
    “Welcome esteemed customer! How can I help?” Holo-Bradley replied.
    “Well, I’m in a bit of a conundrum, and I figured, as founder of the company 
  and ex-President of the Federation, you might actually have some advice for 
  me.” Reimann continued.
    “Need legal advice? Dillon’s can sort you out with the galaxies best lawyers 
  at rock bottom prices!” the Hologram offered.
    “No thanks, it’s you I want. Listen, I’m in the middle of a contract dispute. 
  On one hand I’ve got a load of Cardassians who I actually believe work in 
  pretty bad conditions, but on the other hand a number of them seem to be bent 
  on starting a civil war. And against them are a load of Ferengi business 
  owners, who pay their workforce peanuts in a dangerous environment, yet they 
  control all the pricing and we buy a lot of stock from them, so I can’t 
  afford to alienate them. And on top of all that some stupid Starfleet 
  Captain’s got involved and told us to leave the sector or he’ll throw us 
  out.” Reimann’s voice got higher and higher as he sped on, eventually pausing 
  to get some breath back.
    “We have many vintage Starfleet starship models, please follow me valued 
  customer!” Holo-Bradley said, leaving the counter and walking off towards a 
  corner of the store.
    “No, no, I don’t want any vintage models. So what do you think? Starfleet’s 
  going to ruin everything, and we’re already involved so I guess we’re can’t 
  escape the consequences.”
    “Need a loan or mortgage? Here at Dillon’s Consortium we have fantastic 
  interest rates!”
    “I don’t want a loan, and I already own a house, it’s not important. I 
  suppose I’ve already made the decision to stay here until the matter’s 
  sorted, but what can I do? I already tried getting the two sides to talk, but 
  that ended when somebody tried to bomb us.”
    “Dillon’s Personal Shielding! Guaranteed to protect the individual from 
  explosions up to magnitude ten, standard weapons fire and Borg assimilation! 
  Order yours today!”
    “Hmmm…shielding, I guess I could get them to talk on board the Hansean, the 
  ship’s shields would protect us from any external attempts to sabotage the 
  negotiations, and the transporters would spot any weapons the parties might 
  attempt to bring with them.”
    “Planning a party? Wedding? Funeral? Dillon’s Consortium organizers are all 
  qualified to put on whichever event or celebration you wish. Our experts will 
  organise everything, and the bigger the event the bigger the discount!” 
  Holo-Bradley said.
    “It’s alright, I’m sure we can organise this event ourselves.” Reimann said. 
    “But what about Starfleet? They’d easily find out if anyone beamed aboard the 
  Hansean, they’d interfere with our plans. We have to get rid of them somehow.”
    “Struggling with an infestation? Try new Dillon’s Kill-O-Spray! Guaranteed to 
  be effective against all minor plagues and pests this side of Andor!” 
  Holo-Bradley picked up a can of Kill-O-Spray and handed it to Reimann.
    “I somehow doubt spraying them with that stuff will do any good.” Reimann 
  mused. “But Jakes said we had to leave. Even if I can get everyone on board 
  and talking to each other it won’t be for long, Starfleet’ll but a stop to 
  it. ‘I want your ship out of this sector before the day is out’.” Reimann 
  mimicked what Captain Jakes had told him earlier only a few hours ago in 
  Lakarian City in a childish voice.
    “Need to hire a ship? Dillon’s has the widest range of ships for hire! And 
  you can choose to bring your own crew or be serviced by many of the fine 
  officers part of Dillon’s Starliners Division!”
    “That’s it! Jakes said the ship had to be gone by the end of the day! But he 
  didn’t say anything about the people! Thanks Holo-Bradley!” Reimann said, 
  running back out the door.
    “Thank you, please come again!” Holo-Bradley Dillon shouted after him, 
  disactivating himself until another customer arrived.
  
  
  Reimann sat once more at the head of the conference room table, though this 
  time everyone was present and their intentions were, for the most part, 
  non-violent.
    “After much thought, I’ve decided we’ve got to stay and sort this thing out, 
  consequences be damned.” Reimann announced, to the general relief of those 
  present. Braistway punched the air and shouted “Yes!” while Henry simply 
  nodded, still annoyed by the fact the guy that had been smooth-talking her 
  turned out to be the head of a violent nationalistic independence terrorist 
  group who had earlier in the day attempted to blow them all up. One person, 
  however, did not look amused.
    “I knew you’d choose that.” Sanchez said.
    “I’m sorry Soledad, but it’s our duty to sort it out. Not just because we 
  might have contributed towards the situation in the first place, but also 
  because we’re here now and have the opportunity to influence things for the 
  better.” Reimann argued.
    “Spare my the philosophical speech Klaus, I’ve heard it all before. Anyway, 
  I already knew you wanted to help; the question was whether you’d come up 
  with a way of doing that without annoying Captain Starfleet out there. You’ve 
  called this meeting, so I guess you’ve found a way?”
    “Yes, I’ve got the beginnings of a plan. I know I can stop this if I can only 
  have enough time alone with them. So we’re going to force them to spend time 
  with me.”
    “You’re going to kidnap them?” Braistway asked. “Well, sure, I mean, why not. 
  Go for it.” She shrugged her shoulders.
    “Aren’t you forgetting Captain Planet out there?” Sanchez asked, referring to 
  Captain Jakes and the USS Misacmos.
    “Jakes said we had until the end of the day for the Hansean, and he has the 
  authority to order us to do that. However, we, as in people, can still stay 
  here as long as we want, he has no authority over people on the planet., he 
  can’t do anything about it. And we can do what we want while we’re on firm 
  soil.” Reimann reasoned.
    “You think you can make that stick?” Sanchez asked. “Seriously? Are you that 
  stupid Klaus?”
    “Knowing Jakes he’d rather just blast us to pieces and be done with us.” 
  Braistway said.
    “Which is why the Hansean will actually leave, we’ll take a shuttle with us. 
  We’ll use it for transport on Cardassia, and we’ll redesvous with the ship 
  outside the system. The Hansean has to leave, he ordered it, we accept that 
  order. But we can stay behind in a different ship.”
    “Klaus, none of us are lawyers.” Sanchez said. “We haven’t got the weight to 
  stand there and debate the finer points of Starfleet authority. Jakes will 
  see right through whoever stays. And I wouldn’t like to be there when that 
  happens.”
    “I know none of us could do that.” Reimann said, nodding his head.
    “Then why are we here talking about this?” Braistway asked.
    “Because we have got a lawyer on board.” The Captain answered. Braistway in 
  return laughed and shook her head.
    “No we ain’t Captain. I know all the crew assignments, the ships register. 
  There’s no lawyer on board.”
    “Ah, yes, but our lawyer wouldn’t appear on board.” Reimann replied 
  enigmatically. He swiveled in his chair and shouted towards the door. “You 
  can come in now!”
  The doors to the conference room swished open, and in walked a figure. 
  Covered head to toe in rags, the senior crew was able to smell him long 
  before they could see him.
    “Hobo!” Nyoko shouted.
    “Crazy Bills a lawyer?” Braistway laughed. This day couldn’t get any 
  stranger.
  
  
  It was less than ten seconds after the raceabout River Running had left the 
  Hansean’s shuttlebay and directed itself towards the planet’s surface when 
  the ship received an incoming transmission from the USS Misacmos.
  The face of Captain Marvin ‘the Marvel’ Jakes appeared on screen. He flinched 
  when he saw whom he was speaking to.
    “Braistway.”
    “Jakes.” She replied.
    “Braistway?”
    “Jakes.”
    “Braistway!”
    “Arsehole.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Well, I’m so so happy we can say each other’s names, I just decided it was 
  time we left kindergarden class and spoke as adults.” 
    “My sensors have detected a shuttle leaving your ship and proceeding to the 
  surface.”
    “Well I’m glad your ship has working sensors. Did you trouble your brain there 
  to read them yourself Captain, or did you get your crew to work that out for 
  you?”
    “Listen up Braistway, ‘cause this ain’t being repeated. I gave you people 
  orders to leave orbit and you are to return to whatever muddy hole you have 
  creapt out of or so help me the Dillon Consortium will be short one ship in 
  the next ten seconds.”
    “Captain Jakes, please don’t worry. The Hansean is leaving orbit as we speak, 
  as per orders. We did indeed launch a vessel, which is seperately registered, 
  to complete a pending business contract. As for us, we’re leaving this sorry 
  system. Now have a nice day. Hansean out.”
  
  
    “They all escaped unharmed?” Seleya said, taking in the news of the failure 
  of his bombing attempt. He was standing in a cave with three other 
  Cardassians, the leaders of the armed contingent of the strike force. “No 
  matter, the damage was done. We broke up the meeting, and they’ll know it was 
  Cardassians that did it. The Ferengi won’t deal with any of us, and Starfleet 
  will go on the offensive against us. Gentlemen, the war is at hand.” Seleya 
  rubbed his hands gleefully. Everything was going to plan.
    “One is content to inform you that war is not at hand.” Seleya turned at the 
  sound of the voice coming from the entrance to the cave, to see three figures 
  standing there, guns drawn. The sun behind them meant he could recognise any 
  of them, only make out their silhouettes. He went to draw his own weapon but 
  then the unknown intruders fired, stunning him and his compatriots unconcious.
  Flash, Henry and Crewman Dienstag Könige stepped into the cave, returning 
  their pistols to their belt holders.
    “You know, that’s the first time I’ve been allowed to shoot a date that tried 
  to blow me up.” Henry said contentedly.
    “You get the urge to do so often?” Flash asked.
    “You’d be surprised.” She answered.
  
  Henry walked out of the raceabout River Running, which herself, Flash, 
  Reimann, Könige and their newfound lawyer Crazy Bill had taken down the 
  planet’s surface, used to round up both the workers and owners parties (some 
  unwilling and some slightly less unwilling), and had turned into a conference 
  room. Taking in the vista of where they had landed, deep in the vistas of the 
  beautiful Lakarian Wilderness, she turned to talk to Reimann.
    “That’s all of them in there Captain: the Ferengi bosses, Kallat and his 
  people and Wek Seleya. Most of them seem comfortable, though Seleya ain’t 
  exactly a ray of sunshine.”
    “He’ll talk?” Reimann asked.
    “Well he’s strapped into the chair and Flash is in there, so he won’t be too 
  much of an annoyance. Plus I let it slip that Flash’s species aren’t members 
  of the Federation and they don’t suscribe to as high a moral standard as us 
  weakling humans, so it’s in his best interest to talk.” She replied with a 
  big grin on her face.
    “Henry, I don’t like threatening people, it isn’t how I do business.”
    “Well it’s the only way to get him to sit up and listen. Regardless, that lot 
  aren’t commanders of a Starfleet vessel about to fire on us. You’ve got it 
  easy, it’s my job to hold Jakes off.”
    “Just let Bill do the talking, he’ll get us through.” Reimann comforted his 
  yeoman.
    “Captain!” Könige shouted, pointing nearby where the blue haze of Starfleet 
  transporters had appeared. “Looks like we have company!”
    “Showtime.” Reimann smiled, and walked into the raceabout locking the door 
  behind him.
  
  
  As the haze dissappeared the figures of Captain Jakes, his First Mate and his 
  security officer Banar’techno became clear, and they did not waste any time 
  in walking up to the shuttle and demanding entry.
    “I’m afraid we can’t let you past Captain.” Henry said, blocking the door. 
  Beside her stood Crazy Bill, who added.
    “Indeed. As per the Business Act, 2379, third party entrants to a contractual 
  transaction in which they have no monetary interest, investment or receipts, 
  under a lack of mens rea and habeas corpus, must present declarations of 
  negotiating intent to be approved by all other parties up to two weeks prior 
  to said negotiations, or prima facie the proxy for de jure contractual orders 
  is incomplete and invalid under Section 27-B of the United Federation of 
  Planets Charter, 2161.”
    “What?” Jakes fumed, lost for words for the first time in many a year.
    “Oh, this is our lawyer Jakes. He knows what he’s doing, and you can’t touch 
  us unless you want to land in a heap o’ trouble.” Henry remarked, laughing at 
  Jakes.
  The Misacmos’ First Officer and Banar’techno saw the face of their Captain 
  getting redder and redder. 
    “Captain…” the Misacmos First Mate moved towards Jakes, intending to remind 
  him to keep breathing.
    “Find me a lawyer!” Jakes shouted, making everyone in the vecinity jump.
    “Right away sir.” The First Officer replied.
  
  
    “What did you just tell him?” Henry muttered to Crazy Bill, ensuring that she 
  was not heard.
    “Oh, complete utter nonsense. But there was plenty of latin and legal terms 
  in there, it’ll keep ‘em occupied for a good while.” The lawyer/part time 
  hobo replied.
    “You know, I think I’m starting to like you.”
  
  
  Several hours later, Jakes still fuming outside the shuttle doors trying to 
  fight his way through the legal jargon, the doors opened and Reimann, 
  smiling broadly, stepped out.
    “Ah, Captain Jakes, a pleasure to see you here.”
    “Reimann, I want you off this planet immediately!” Jakes shouted, more 
  comfortable dealing with the dialogue of threats than with that of legal 
  terms.
    “I’ll be most pleased to comply. This scenery is amazing isn’t it? Hope 
  you’ve had enough time to get a good look at it, truly marvellous.”
  From out behind Reimann the various delegates left the raceabout, Cardassian 
  and Ferengi speaking to each other content with a resolution and the promise 
  of hard work and profit to come.
    “Well, I’ll be off then.” Reimann told Jakes once the raceabout was clear. “I 
  guess you will as well, seems all the problems here have been resolved. So, 
  till we meet again Captain.” Reimann couldn’t resist the last jab as the 
  raceabout doors closed, and in a cloud of dust and smoke took off leaving the 
  Starfleet officers behind.
  
  
  Captain Reimann poured some red wine into two glasses, giving one to Sanchez 
  and keeping one for himself. He’d manage to sneak in the bottle of red, but 
  being in the crew lounge their dinner consisted of chips and various pieces 
  of fried chicken.
    “I’ve been looking over that deal you got them to sign.” Sanchez said, taking 
  a sip from her glass and setting it down on the plastic table. “It’s nice. 
  Good five-year deal with the Ferengi businesses for the cheap mass produced 
  and setting up a Cardassian-run corportation for the specialty goods with an 
  exclusivity contract: it keeps everyone happy.”
    “I didn’t do anything, just let them talk themselves into a solution.” 
  Reimann said. “I don’t know business, I know people. Once you get them going 
  you tend to find the other bits sort themselves out.” 
    “Oh, so it had nothing to do with all that business stuff I drummed into that 
  head of yours all these past years? Wow, thanks.”
    “Business is business. This time, now, is personal.” Reimann said, dipping 
  some of his chips in ketchup and taking a bite. “I don’t want to talk about 
  money.”
    “So what topic of conversation do you deem suitable, o Captain?” Sanchez 
  said, and Reimann smiled back.
    “Well, how are your quarters?”
    “I’ve got some stuff to put up. You still remember how to put up shelves?”
    “Sure I do.”
    “That’s a date then.” Sanchez said, and took a napkin to clean her fingers.


 
 
 
 
 NEXT TIME ON THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES:

 The Incongruous drabbles continue shortly, with the next short exploring an 
 esoteric morality in "Life of the Replenishment Assistant".

 And afterwards, while the Hansean is in orbit of Antidea, others of the crew 
 are returning on board a raceabout from a conference. But as they are both 
 flung into the strangest of situations, how will the divided crew react? "The 
 Old And The Fishy", coming to a website near you, same Traks Time, same Traks 
 Channel!