Discarded Things
Posted on Wed Apr 7th, 2021 @ 12:49am by Lieutenant Alana Tovan & Lieutenant Erin Whitlam PhD
Edited on on Wed Apr 7th, 2021 @ 12:59am
Mission:
Father Dearest
Location: Alexander's
Alana swirled her glass of whiskey, trying her best to focus on the clinking of the ice in her glass. This week had been one of her toughest weeks mentally. Trying to make heads or tails of her father's presence on the station just left her more confused. It had been a long time since he had left her and her mother, and while she barely remembers it, she knew enough from the stories her mother had told her that Khavek was not someone who could be trusted. He had a silver tongue, and could find a way to get into your heart no matter how much your head told you otherwise. Alana was starting to see that for herself. Everything in her brain told her not to trust him. Not to listen to his words. But everything in her heart told her to give him a chance and see if he truly did have remorse for what he did. It was not an easy thing for her to decipher, and despite her best efforts, the whiskey was not yet helping.
"No, you idiot!" Venin yelped, slapping the back of his brother's head. "Get out of the way; let me do it!"
Karx shirked away and rubbed the back of his head. "Ow! You didn't have to do that!"
"Just stand back," Venin continued, pointing to a spot a good two metres from the crate they had just lifted up onto the table. It was quiet in the bar, with only a couple of civilians and Starfleet types sitting alone, spaced out across the tables. "I'll take it from here."
The elder of the two brothers licked his fingers and rubbed his hands together then got to work on the crate's locking mechanism.
Tovan looked up from her drink, the commotion from the Ferengi brothers who ran this bar was making it impossible for her to sulk. She looked their way, trying to figure out what ridiculous scheme they were running now.
The mechanism clicked and the crate popped open. "Ta da!" Venin said triumphantly as he lifted the lid and let it fall over the far side of the crate.
Karx came shuffling back and gazed into the crate with a frown. "It's all junk!"
"It is not junk, fool!" Venin shot back and threatened to strike him again, but held his hand. "These are all potentially priceless artifacts and heirlooms from thousands of worlds." He reached in and started pulling out items. "See here, this is a Vulcan prayer book. And here, that's a genuine Cardassian ro'loch'tan!"
"What's a rolloktan?"
Venin rolled his yes. "If you have to ask, you obviously wouldn't appreciate it," he said, handing the small idol off to his brother before diving back in. "Here, this is interesting. It's Starfleet ... some kind of ... computer?"
"There's a tag!" Karx said, pointing and reaching for the orange box in his brother's hand.
"No!" Venin said, pulling it away from Karx. "I'm perfectly capable of reading it!" He peered at the label. "USS ... Manera? Manooray?" He grunted. "Why can't Hoomons have simple names for things?"
"It's a Starfleet flight recorder," Alana announced from her seat, aggravated at herself for even taking an interest. "It's not that old, maybe thirty years at most by the looks of it."
The brothers turned and instinctively positioned themselves between Alana and their treasure. Venin still held the flight recorder and a smile began to stretch across his face. "Is that so?" he said, holding it up. "And do you think Starfleet would be interested in re-acquiring the recorder of the USS Manyrah?" He snatched it back close to his chest. "For a fair price, of course."
Alana took another sip of her whiskey. "I really can't answer for Starfleet. There might be someone who has interest in an old flight recorder. Assuming it even still works. Can I see it?"
Venin approached her cautiously. "Look, but don't touch."
The engineer rolled her eyes at Venin. "If I don't touch, then I can't determine if it still works. And if it doesn't work, then it's not going to be worth anything."
Venin chewed his lip. Karx wringed his hands anxiously. "Fine," Venin eventually said. "But remember, it's ours."
"I don't want it," she replied. She wasn't really sure why she was willing to help them out. If anything, it got her mind off of her father for a while. The first thing she did was take a look at the tag. "USS Manoora," she said, reading the name of the ship out loud properly. "Let's see what secrets you hold."
Alana took the flight recorder and found access panel where she could get at the controls. A simple press of the button caused the unit to light up.
Venin and Karx both jumped with excitement as the unit came to life. "It works!" Venin exclaimed before turning to his brother. "The data could be more valuable than the box!"
"Hold on," she said impatiently. "Just because it has power doesn't mean there is any data on it." Alana tapped a few more controls. On a small screen on the top of the unit, a few details of the ship and the recording were displayed. "Looks like there's something on it. USS Manoora, under the command of one Captain Julius Whitlam. Last recording was on Stardate 52902.3. That puts it right around the end of the Dominion War."
The brothers were leaning in close now, almost salivating at the prospect of increasing value. "Dominion War!" Karx said, excitingly tapping his brother's arm. "Artifacts from that time are highly valued!"
"I'd say it depends on what kind of ship the Manoora was, and what happened to it. But then I don't know much about how much something is worth. I suppose that's more your area of expertise." She powered down the unit and handed it back to Venin. "It wouldn't take much to pull the data off, though I would make sure you let someone do it who's qualified. If the unit is relatively undamaged, then it will probably be fine. But just in case, I wouldn't try to extract it yourself. If you make a mistake, it wouldn't be worth more than the material it's made from." Alana picked up her whiskey and gave the ice another swirl. "Whitlam. Does that name sound familiar to either of you?"
The brothers looked at each other and shrugged. Karx turned back to Alana and said, "Maybe you met this Captain Whitlam at one of your Starfleet meetings?"
Alana shrugged. "No idea. But that's who I would start with if your going to find anyone interested in this thing."
Venin snatched the box back from Alana and turned back to their crate. "I'll start looking for a buyer," he said to Karx, now ignoring Alana completely. "You go greet that new customer."
The engineer watched the brothers return to their scheming, and she returned to her drink. Without having a new project to occupy her, she returned her gaze to the swirling ice, the weight of her world, at least, back on her shoulders.
Khavek waved away the Ferengi with a gesture that sent him scurrying back and moved quietly to where Alana sat alone at a table. Moving quietly and smoothly between the tables, he slipped into the chair opposite his daughter. "Alana," he said as he sat.
Alana sighed, not even lifting her gaze away from her drink. "Khavek," she replied softly. She may have been cold in her response, but she did not ask him to leave.
"I have to say," Khavek began as though they were picking up a previous conversation, "the engineer you assigned to the Wal'esh'aan was very, very thorough." He paused, watching for any reaction from her. "And talkative as well. She gave Zhefors a very detailed rundown of the work she was doing. Even threw in her own conjecture about how the warp core found itself in the state it was in."
The engineer took another sip of her drink, refusing to look her father in the eye. "My people are the best. I hope Zhefors listened to her more than he listened to me."
"Well, Captain Zhefors was so convinced by this engineer's words that he unceremoniously fired me and ejected me from his ship." He didn't sound too upset by the development. If anything, he almost sounded like he was boasting.
Alana finally looked up from her drink. The latest development was certainly unexpected. She felt something strange. She almost felt sorry for him. "How unfortunate for you. Perhaps you should have spent more time reading up on warp core maintenance procedures and less time betraying your family."
He clenched his jaw and drew in a deep breath. A part of him wanted to react, to try and explain himself, but he suppressed that. There was no value in doing that and it would only push his daughter further away. That, he did not want. "Just another of the many regrets in my life, I suppose," he said finally. "But I do now have the problem of being stranded here with no job, no credits, nowhere to stay." He paused and chuckled ironically. "If only the Tal Shiar could see me now. How low I've fallen."
"I'm sure station security could find someplace warm for you to stay. Complete with three squares a day." Alana clinked the ice around in her glass by swirling it in the air before taking another drink.
"Indeed," Khavek replied with a slow nod, watching the ice move in her glass. "And I'm sure they would be very eager to have me as their guest. Which makes me wonder," he paused to lean in closer, "why you haven't turned me in yet."
The glass suddenly stopped swirling as Alana froze. Why haven't I turned him in? she wondered to herself, as if the thought hadn't really crossed her mind before now. "Could you turn in your own father?" she asked, before hastily adding "Don't answer that."
His only reaction was the slight uptick of his left eyebrow, but it soon resumed its place. "Indeed," he said. "But that brings us back to my current predicament." He took a deep breath and slowly released it. "I need your help, Alana."
"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament." She did her best to avoid eye contact. "What makes you think I'd even be willing to help you?"
"Only the faintest glimmer of hope," he said, looking forlorn, or what might pass for such in a Romulan. "I have nowhere else to go."
"You realize I could get in a lot of trouble just for talking to you, much less helping you," Alana said bluntly.
He nodded slowly and sat back in the chair before he turned and looked around the bar. He looked uncomfortable, like a man expecting trouble. After a moment, he grimaced and looked back to Alana. "Then you'd better turn me in," he said. "If that's to be my fate, then I'm ready to face it."
Alana stopped pondering her ice and downed the rest of her drink. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet, carefully avoiding looking her father in the eye. "I need some fresh air."
Lieutenant Alana Tovan [P: Von]
Section Chief, Shipfitting
Starbase 332
Venin and Karx [P: Whitlam]
Proprietors
Alexander's
Khavek [P: Whitlam]
