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Posted on 06 Jan 2015 @ 10:23am by Captain Harvey Geisler & Lieutenant Avery Stuart Ph.D. & Lieutenant JG Noxa & Lieutenant Hictus Dicon

Mission: Razmena
Location: Razmena
Timeline: February 4, 2388 || 1930 hours

It did not take long for a small party of three Karemma to arrive. Two of them carried a shielded and secured case. The room, where the volume was already low, quickly yielded to silence. Each occupant observed the Karemma setting down the case. It was opened and two items were placed on the empty table.

One small Federation replicator.

And one small Federation subspace transceiver.

Murmurs rippled through the room, grateful that the rumors had at last been confirmed. A forcefield was erected over the table, protecting it and the surrounding area from anyone who might try to get any ideas.


"Two priceless tools," said the Karemma at the podium. "Well, as priceless as you want them to be." He walked over and tapped a button on the replicator. A small cup with steam floating off of it materialized on the top of the unit. "Humans call this coffee," he said, picking up the cup and having a taste. Smiling, he announced, "Perfectly sweet and bitter."

Gesturing towards the transceiver, he added, "And you can listen to whatever the Federation is planning while you enjoy it."

The Karemma returned to the podium. "We know a Federation warship is in the sector, and has been for some time. What better way to stay one step ahead, yes?"

He eyed the room carefully, then smiled. "Shall we begin?"

Several shifted in their seats as the Karemma's smile faded and he continued. "Payment shall be rendered either in credits or commodities equal to the current credit market value. My associate," he gestured to one of the Karemma to his left, "will evaluate your non-credit bids. The bidding will begin at one thousand credits."

A hand raised in the front of the room. "Fifteen hundred?" the Karemma asked as a couple others stood to approach the associate to check their values. A nod came from the back of the room. "Two thousand? Three thousand? Five thousand?"

The small female Ferengi walked around with her ears 'open' to the sounds around her and off afar. Shaking her head, she looked at her companions. "I feel like I am back on Ferenginar" said Lieutenant Noxa. "Hopefully, this one isn't as barbaric as to sell women."

With the bidding now up to twenty thousand credits, one of the Dosi standing in the back of the room could not help himself but remain fixated on the human woman with red hair. She had to be in charge of the group at their table, not just because it was a collection of humans and a lone Ferengi, but because of her bold red hair. Very few in this sector would dare with such fashion unless they wanted to be noticed.

Or perhaps it was mere stupidity and these were Starfleet observers looking to reclaim what was lost. His employer had every intention of securing the Federation technology by whatever means, and this Dosi was sure that he would want a couple people to teach them how to use it properly. Not all would be needed. Maybe just the woman with the red hair...

He gestured to a couple nearby Dosi. Stupidity also included pulling guns out during the auction. Waiting for the auction to end, it would be easy to corral the humans to a nearby private room for negotiations.

Throughout the room, intensity increased as the bidding continued to climb. By the time it reached a million credits, three individuals remained in the running. Increasing at quarter-million increments, one of the bidders was forced to drop out.

The bid reached five million. Then ten.

"Thirteen million?" asked the auctioneer. Seeing a nod to the left, he asked the other competitor for, "Thirteen and a half?"


Everyone in the room turned to see a Paradan who had just entered the room, accompanied by an entourage of a half-dozen armed bodyguards.

"Twenty-five!" smiled the auctioneer, proud of his soon-to-be profit. "Do I hear thirty?" he asked, hoping for more. Hiding his disappointment after a few moments, he pounded the podium with a metal orb. "Sold to the Paradan for twenty-five million!"

Before the Starfleet team could react, their table was immediately surrounded by eight Dosi. "Come with us," the leader said, placing the muzzle of a pistol on the shoulder of the red haired woman.

Avery was startled, but knew enough to keep her face impassive. Truth be told, intuition had told her all eyes were on the group even before they were surrounded, but she knew better than to panic. Now, she forced herself to breathe before she spoke. "No need for threats," Stuart offered casually.

:: Nearby, aboard the Runabout Mississippi ::

George had just arrived at Razmena with the Runabout that was to pick up the Away team, he had been called away from his Fighter Group for this mission. Tapping a few controls he locked on to the away team location, punching in a few more commands he sent a soft audible signal down to their communicators to inform them that a Friendly was in the sky and wished to communicate with them. He had read enough of the mission specs to know that if they didn't get in contact with him he would have to go with another course of action, he just needed to remember what that course of action was.

Under the captain's orders, two of Noxa's best security officers, both ensigns, had accompanied Bridger on the runabout. Dressed in black and armed with Type I Phasers, both the Bolian and the Tiburon appeared intimating to the untrained eye. Hopefully their services wouldn't be needed.

:: Razmena ::

"Then come quietly," the Dosi sneered. Had there not been so many watchful eyes, he would have likely lifted the woman out of her chair and lead her into the adjacent room.

Dicon's hand's underneath his robe settled on the disputers he had holstered there. He had decided now would not be the best time to use them; however it never hurt to be cautious around such people.

"Let's go," ordered the Dosi. The room was already abuzz with activity, with all of the spectators and other failed buyers starting to leave the establishment. The Paradan buyer's gaze locked for a moment with the Dosi before he disappeared into the neighboring room. With the noise, he didn't hear the chirp from the concealed Starfleet combadges.

Dicon's hand's moved slowly, adjusting a slider on his com-badge to broadcast only. His com-badge was unusual for com-badges in that when set to receive mode it sent out both a locator signal and a sonar pulse. He's mouth turned upwards at the corner's. * The poor fools. They have no idea how this is going to go for them *

Avery moved as she was told, keeping her eyes on the leader. "What should we call you?" Stuart wanted to communicate compliance but also make every effort to relate to the others as sentient beings.

The lead Dosi sneered and tightened his grip on the trigger. "This way," he growled, purposely not answering the inquiry, waving his pistol. The Away Team was led into the adjacent room, which allowed for the Dosi security to spread out and better surround their captives.

The Paradan stood in front of a table with his back turned to the Starfleet personnel. He carefully examined the replicator and transceiver he just purchased. Before anyone could speak, including the Dosi informing their boss that they've arrived, the Paradan cleared his throat.

"Your presence has inspired a conundrum," he firmly spoke, keeping his back to the Away Team. "Clearly, retrieving these items is not a priority of your government. Yet, you are here."

He turned and faced the Away Team and clasped his hands behind his back. "And you will tell me why."

Dicon shift slightly, bringing the two disrupters out of their hiding places and slowly powering them up as the Paradan spoke; as to avoid the minute whine they produced from being discovered.

"The items caught our attention," Avery offered with a shrug, "just as we have apparently caught your attention."

:: Runabout Mississippi ::

George locked on to the signal that he was receiving from the away team, he noticed that it was a opened com channel and heard that they were in trouble. Commands started to get keyed in quickly on his panel as he locked on to the replicator, the away team and also typed in a command to broad cast a high range buzzing sound just moments before transporting the away team up.

He double checked his commands to confirm that they were correctly set and then typed in the execute button while starting the transport.

:: Razmena ::

The silence coming from the Starfleet Team was unnerving. Though he preferred not to stain his hands with blood, the Paradan pulled out his own weapon and aimed it at the woman with the red hair, the person he assumed was the leader.

Her cold gaze reflected back to him that these tactics would not provide the answers he sought. Instead, he quickly shifted his aim to the human whose hands he could not see. "Tell me, or this one dies."

Suddenly, his ears wailed as an unpleasant sound reverberated in his eardrums. Several shots went off as result of nerves, but the hands of the Dosi henchmen and the Paradan leader flew upward quickly in a vain attempt to protect what remained of their hearing.

The sound stopped, and the Paradan, slightly stunned, looked around. The Starfleet team was gone. Glancing behind him, he saw the replicator and the transmitter both were missing.

"Find them!" he shouted. "Their ship can't be that far away!"

:: Runabout Mississippi ::

Dicon materialized beside the rear of the shuttle, glared around him for a moment; then glanced at engine control and began to work. " Thank you for the save Lieutenant. I suggest the rapid withdrawal."

Avery exhaled after the materialization process was complete. Dicon''s words were true but also seem to be a supreme understatement. For the moment, however, she was just grateful to still be alive.

After confirming that George had all of undercover team on board and that their goods were there with them as well he kicked the Mississippi into high gear. He broke a number of Federation laws by exiting the planets gravity so fast but he figured that being so far away from the Federation and the fact they were in danger no one in the Federation would mind.

He was about to turn around and speak to who ever was in charge, he couldn't remember, when a alarm went off on his panel. There was a ship coming after them and fast, George punched even more commands into his panel pushing everything out of the little ship, "Ummm who ever you guys made friends with are coming after us, does anybody want to go out and give us a bit of a push because they are gaining on us," George said as he opened a channel to the Black Hawk, "Black Hawk this is Mississippi we are being followed by what I presume is hostiles," the ship rocked as what looked like a phaser beam shot across bow, "Yep defiantly hostiles... Could use some Calvary."

Dicon was shoved forwards by the impact. " Aft shields down twenty five percent, its a phased disrupter, compensating for the differential"

:: USS Black Hawk ::

Three beeps sounded from the ops station. Then a pause, followed by another set of three beeps. "We're being hailed," the ensign told the officer of the watch. "It's the Runabout Mississippi."

Ensign Weathers, the Assistant Chief Flight Controller, rose from the seat reserved for the Executive Officer and took two steps toward the viewscreen. "Patch it through here and at the Captain's quarters."

Down below, Harvey had just sat down on his couch with the PADD containing the raw data on the nebula when the comm system chimed. Before he had the chance to respond, Lieutenant Bridger's voice echoed throughout the quiet room. =/\= "Black Hawk this is Mississippi we are being followed by what I presume is hostiles." =/\=

Sounds of clatter came through, likely from weapons fire. =/\= "Yep defiantly hostiles... Could use some Calvary." =/\=

"On our way!" he replied quickly, rising to his feet and tossing his PADD on the couch. The comm channel was still open as he exited the quarters bound for a turbolift. "Red Alert. All hands to battlestations. Alert the Hangar Deck for Starfighter launch and recovery. Lay in an intercept course and engage at maximum warp."

It was not long before he arrived on the bridge. "ETA to the Mississippi Harvey asked, stopping beside the helm.

"Five minutes, captain," Ensign Weathers replied.

"Bridger, you'll have to hold them off for five minutes," Harvey ordered.

:: Runabout Mississippi ::

"I am dodging and weaving like the best of them Sir. I could have held them off when I was seven sir," George replied just as the Mississippi was rocked with a direct hit, "That will teach me to ever be cocky again," George muttered under his breath as his hands kept flying across the panel in front of him entering in new commands and directions to try and shake them off.

Dicon was shoved from his feet as the last blast connected, then stated " Shields are down to fifteen preset and that last blast damaged the starboard EPS pylon, we are trailing plasma from the port nasal and structural integrity field is at ten percent. Another hit and we will be in the void."

:: USS Black Hawk ::

Harvey, not one to be patient, ordered tactical plots to be superimposed on the viewscreen. The sensors clearly relayed that the Runabout was taking a pounding. He was grateful for sending the ship's best pilot. Anyone else...

Geisler shook his head, forcing the thought far from his mind.

"Coming up on the coordinates," the helmsman warned.

"Just as we planned," Harvey ordered over the open comm. He looked towards the monitoring stations and saw that eight of the fighters were ready to launch. They served no purpose other than to be distractions.

It would take twenty seconds to beam the Away Team aboard. He wished Lieutenant Sherman had been medically cleared to expedite the process. Every second now counted.

The Black Hawk dropped out of warp and raced towards the Runabout, which was now venting drive plasma. Harvey watched the fighters streak ahead of them. The alien vessel spotted the fighters and broke off the attack.

"Detecting a core breach in progress," came an announcement from the rear.

"Transporter Room?" he asked.

=/\= "Stand by!" =/\=

Harvey had little choice but to watch the Runabout explode, sending debris in every direction. With the shields down, it was up to the deflector grid to save the ship from damage, and it did little to quell the shockwave. The fighters, also shaken up from the explosion, turned back now that their job was done.

"Transporter Room!?" Harvey demanded.

Silence gripped the line.

=/\= "We got them!" =/\= came an excited reply.

Harvey dipped his head. Too damn close. "As soon as the fighters are aboard," he told the helmsman, "Get us out of here. Warp Eight."

Without waiting for a reply, he moved straight for the turbolift. There were a lot of questions, but for now, he was glad to have everyone back.



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