Date: Fri, 11 Dec 1998 15:20:50 -0400 From: Mia Sherman Subject: [USS CALYPSO] Getting a Little Carried Away [Room 14, Port Hotel. Ber spaceport, Yrarier] "The Port Hotel. Looks seedy enough," Zahn commented, looking around at the dingy room. "And by that, I'd say it's perfect. Paul?" Fitzgerald nodded. "Looks wonderful, considering. You and Shira go for transport; Tarak and I will meet you back here. Any questions?" --- "How long have we been at this?" Zahn asked, turning from the landing registry booth to Shira. "I'm getting hungry with all this reading, and I still haven't found any familiar names." Shira nodded. "I've seen a few, but they've all been-- well, criminals." He grinned. "Isn't that who we're looking for? Come on, I saw a place across the street-- the Anthos Cantina. Care to give it a try?" "Sure. That's not what I mean, though-- they're real criminals, not just people with questionable morals. Besides, I arrested some of them, and I don't think they'd appreciate me asking for favors now." "I see. Quaint place, this-- and don't look now, but there's a monkey coming towards us." "OOK!" "Oh," she whispered. "Stay calm, and don't call him a monkey, he hates that. It's nice to see you again too, Crunchi!" she cried as the mon-- err, thing picked her up in what could only be called a bear hug and began to carry her into the cantina. "I think he wants us to go with him, 'Tannen!" Shira's ride pushed open the cantina doors and threaded through tables and drunk aliens, making his way towards a dim booth in the back with Zahn trotting at his heels. "Are you getting that desperate?" she asked as Crunchi deposited her across from the booth's occupant. "You need someone else to pick up girls for you?" "Very funny, little Shira. And you can count yourself fortunate-- most of his guests arrive more mauled." "That doesn't surprise me in the least. What brings you here, Hank?" He scowled and thumped the table. "Waiting for clients, as always. It's been slow." Shira raised an eyebrow and glanced at Zahn. "Is that so? Hank, meet my partner Zahn-- Zahn, this is Hank Single, an old friend of mine." "Zahn?" the mercenary asked, gesturing for the Trill to sit. "The gunrunner? You know the Klingons still have a warrant out for your arrest . . . " "You could turn him in, Hank, but they won't pay you. And besides, Zahn and I have a business proposal for you . . . . " Date: Sat, 9 Jan 1999 14:53:30 -0500 (EST) From: Greg D Armstrong Subject: USS CALYPSO: My Kingdom for a Horse! SD 110109.1500 MD 6.1700 Yrarier, Ber Spaceport Shira raised an eyebrow and glanced at Zahn. "Is that so? Hank, meet my partner Zahn-- Zahn, this is Hank Single, an old friend of mine." "Zahn?" the mercenary asked, gesturing for the Trill to sit. "The gunrunner? You know the Klingons still have a warrant out for your arrest . . . " "You could turn him in, Hank, but they won't pay you. And besides, Zahn and I have a business proposal for you . . . . " "We need a ship, Hank," Zahn began. "It will be a simple operation; take the two of us, plus two others to R'gnor V. What we do there will determine whether we will need immediate transport onward, so there would be an additional ... retainer so that you contact us before taking on business that would take you out of that system...." "Four passengers to R'gnor V," Hank said aloud. "What about cargo?" "Just our personal luggage, your cargo holds will be empty, or if you can arrange for cargo to be loaded tonight, that is fine, too. We wish to leave tomorrow morning." "Tomorrow?" Hank coughed. "It would take me at least a week to get the necessary permits in this place. And my ship is due for maintenance..." "Shira, could you go to the bar and get me a pan-galactic gargle blaster?" Zahn asked quietly. "The waiter is-" "Shira, could you go to the bar and get me a pan-galactic gargle blaster, please?" Zahn asked again. Shira blinked, then gave Zahn a look that made him want to shrivel. But she did get up and go to the bar, leaving Hank and Crunchie and Zahn to haggle over the price. At the bar, she discovered that it would take the bartender some time to mix the requested drink. As she waited, to rather large... persons came and took their places on either side of her. "Hello, pretty one," said the one on the right. "It's my birthday today, and I've just decided that you are my present." "Well, I-" Shira began, before the one on her left tapped her shoulder. "You know," he said, "you really should try to keep him happy. He's wanted in twelve systems." "Well, maybe he should go there," Shira replied, "because he's certainly not wanted here." "Oh, dear," said the one on the left, in a mock sad tone. "Now you've made him angry." He made a grab for Shira's shoulder, to have it knocked away by a long, furry arm. "Hi, Crunchie," Shira said. "Hey, who's the monkey?" said the one on the right. "Oh, dear," said Shira, in a mock sad tone. "Now you've made him angry." After paying the proprietor for the damages to the bar, Zahn told Shira, "We're leaving in the morning. Let's find Paul and Tarak." Respectfully submitted: Dr. Buetannan Zahn CMO, USS Calypso NRPG: It's short, but it's here. Shall we get on with the mission? Greg :-) Date: Mon, 1 Mar 1999 23:05:09 -0400 From: Mia Sherman Subject: [USS CALYPSO] Lessons and Losses [The Port Hotel, Yrarier] "You *lost* Paul? Great mother of pearl!" Zahn exclaimed, nearly yanking his own hair out in frustration. Tarak tilted his head, looking mildly confused. "Who is Pearl?" "Nevermind that. Shira, have some water. You're pale. Look, Tarak, this is absolutely unacceptable. We have to find him. Where did you see him last?" "He suggested visiting the tavern, has I have told you. I went to visit the gentlemen's facilities, and when I returned the Captain was gone." "PAUL, damnit, not Captain. We'll start from there and work outward. And we can't do it by ourselves-- there isn't time. Single--" The mercenary pilot opened his eyes, battered boots propped on a rickety table. "Yes, oh Wanted One?" "If we get you a holo of Paul, do you have any contacts that could help find him? It's extremely important that we recover him before we leave Yrarier." Single shrugged. "Do I look like a private dick to you? You only hired me to take you to R'gnor V, remember?" "Hank . . . " Shira took a deep breath and opened her own eyes, fingers wrapped tightly around her waterglass. "Don't argue this time, okay? Just do it. We'll pay you extra." He grumbled and sat up. "It'll cost you folks a pretty penny," he warned. "And an ugly one too, no doubt," Zahn replied. "Money is no object, Single. What's the status on your ship?" "Just fine. We could leave today, if you wanted to." "That may be a possibility," Tarak broke in smoothly. "Mister Single, you and I will begin our search for Paul Fitzgerald. Mister Collins, Doctor, you will attempt to contact the ship and notify them of this development. We will all rendezvous back here later tonight. Good day." With a curt nod, the Vulcan turned on his heel and walked out. "I guess that means I should go too," Hank muttered, rising and stretching. "You know which account to credit," he said as he, too, exited the room. "I think," Shira said slowly, setting her glass down on Single's vacated table, "That they've got the easy part of the job." "Oh?" Zahn asked, looking up from the news he was scanning. "How so?" "Well," she began, "They only have to deal with the scum and criminals of the Yrarian underworld. *We* have to deal with the Captain . . . " Date: Thu, 27 May 1999 15:59:32 -0400 (EDT) From: Greg D Armstrong Subject: USS CALYPSO: Travailles SD 110527.1700 MD 7.0630 Streets of Ber Spaceport, Yrarier "Well, that was another dead end, Crunchi," Hank told his furry partner. "One of these days someone is bound to sell maps to this place." He was again studying the holo that Tarak had given him, so was startled by the muzzle of the weapon he walked into as he stepped around the corner. "Going somewhere, Single?" the green-skinned alien asked. "Actually, Bwitto, I was looking for your boss," Hank replied. "I have the money I owe him." "It's too late for that, Single," Bwitto told him, still pointing the phaser between Hank's eyes. "Baja has given up on you. He put a price on your head and declared that you should be an example to anyone who tries to rip him off. But if you give me the money, I might just forget I saw you and your pet monkey -- ERK!" As Hank took the phaser from Bwitto's lifeless fingers, he told him, "Never, EVER, call Crunchi a 'monkey.'" MD 7.0700 The Port Hotel, Yrarier "Well, *I* have to leave now," Hank told them. "Crunchi and the Century Hawk are coming with me. Will you be coming, too?" "I think we should carry on and get to R'gnor," Zahn said over his breakfast. "We do have the mission to complete." "We won't just be leaving Paul," Shira added. "Captain Pellek and the others will be looking for him." "I find I must disagree," Tarak said. "Both the news stories and the disappearance of Captain Fitzgerald indicate that the mission has been compromised. It would be folly to procede as planned." "I think that we cannot assist Paul any more than we have by telling Captain Pellek of his disapearance. He can bring the entire weight of the Federation to bear on his recovery, if necessary." Buetannen paused for another bite of his omlette. "And you are correct in saying that it is folly to continue as planned. So we must discard our plans." "What do you mean?" the Vulcan asked. "Well," Zahn said, pushing his plate away, "obviously, I cannot use my old identity of Timmus as a cover. And any conspirators with contacts on R'gnor and Yrarier will be expecting a Human, Vulcan, and Trill to be investigating them. So when we get to R'gnor, we must be something else entirely." His gaze turned to Shira. "I've always wanted an Orion slave girl." "No." Shira said, bluntly. "No *way* am I going to be a slave, let alone *your* slave!" ************** MD 7.1500 Aboard the CENTURY EAGLE "Ow!" Zahn cried. "That hurts!" "It will hurt more if you don't hold still," Shira returned, adjusting the tatoo pen in her hand and continuing to use it on his back. "We have to get all your spots off if you are to pass as a human. Too bad that they go all the way. This is going to take a long time." Tarak entered the cabin. "I am still uncertain about the effectiveness of the disguise you suggested for me, Doctor. Or rather, the lack of one." "Did you ever read the ancient Earth writer Edgar Allen Poe?" Zahn asked. "He wrote a story called 'The Purloined Letter,' in which the stolen item was actually placed in a very obvious place. The people looking for it failed to find it simply because they could not conceive that it would not be hidden. We are going to do that with you. By telling everyone that you are a Vulcan, everyone on R'gnor V will assume the we are lying. All you have to do is sneer now and then and they will be certain that you are a Romulan." Suddenly, Hank's voice sounded over the intercom, The trio rushed to the bridge. Such that it was; it actually wasn't large enough for all of them, Zahn stood outside the open door as he pulled on his robe. Over subspace came the sounds: "If they find us, our mission will be compromised yet again," Tarak stated flatly. "I can't believe it's the JAGO," Shira said. "I thought she was decommisioned years ago. We were so badly damaged at the time..." "Ensign Collins," stated Tarak flatly, "you should know the control systems of the JAGO fairly well, having been aboard for so long." "Ensign Levine, please. I do, but what does that have to do with anything?" "I believe that I could establish a link and get you control of their flight systems for a short time. You should be able to disable it's warp engines fairly easily, since it is of the NIFTY KITTEN class." "Yes, a quick acceleration to warp 8 should knnock their warp drive off-line for an hour or more," Shira replied. "How will you open the link?" "We'll have to establish communications-" "But if they see us, they'll know we are here!" Zahn interjected. Tarak continued, "so we will have Crunchie respond to them. For some reason, the Universal Translator cannot understand his speech pattern." "Ook!" shouted Crunchi. "I meant no offence," Tarak said. "I was merely pointing out that while they are trying to figure out what Crunchie is saying, we should have time to establish the link and disable their vessel." "Okay," shouted Hank. "Clear the bridge. Crunchi, open a channel and talk to them-" "Ook!" "It doesn't matter what you say, they can't understand you anyway. Tell them a fairy tail for all I care!" "Ook?" Shira fielded this question. "Yes, Crunchie, the Three Little Marmots will do fine. It is one of my favorites, too." "Tarak," Hank continued, "come with me to my quarters. You can start your patch there. Shira, you can set up a con panel on the main terminal in the lounge. Let's go!" Crunchi began his tale, much to the confusion of the bridge crew of the JAGO. Tarak piggybacked instructions to the JAGO's main computer on the subspace communications link. Soon, he called out: "Ensign Collins, your terminal is active." "Ensign LEVINE!" Shira shouted back, even as she dropped the JAGO out of warp, then ordered it up to warp 8. The quick changes were too much for the old design of the JAGO's warp core. It's protective devices immediately shut down the warp engines, and the CENTURY HAWK quickly outdistanced the old ship. "That's it, they are adrift!" Crunchi continued to "ook" to the JAGO as Tarak disconected his link. finally, the JAGO communications officer closed the channel out of sheer frustration. The group gathered in the lounge to congratulate each other. "Do we make a good team," Zahn announced, "or do we make a good team?" He clapped Tarek on the shoulder, earning himself a strange look from the Vulcan. "I presume that was a retorical question," Tarak responded. "Meanwhile, we must still think about our arrival at R'gnor V. You still must finish removing your spots." "You sure know how to ruin a good party," Zahn replied, as he picked up the tatoo pen. "Shira, we have work to do!" ***** MD 8.0927 "R'gnor control, this is the CENTURY HAWK requesting approach vector for planetary landing at Takban Spaceport," Hank stated over subspace. "There are a lot of ships in orbit," Hank commented. "I don't think R'gnor has ever been this popular..." "They all look pretty battered," Zahn added. "They must be refugees from Romulan space." "I've been all through Romulan space," Tarak stated. "Those are like nothing I've seen there. They must be from somewhere else..." "Well," Zahn said, "I guess we can find out where they are from when we land." Respectufully Submitted: Lt. Dr. Buetannen Zahn CMO, USS Calypso NRPG: The ships are refugees from beyond Romulan space. They are running from the Borg. This fits into a "larger" storyline that is effecting several ships at this time... Sorry that this took so long to get out... Greg :-( Date: Mon, 21 Jun 1999 01:01:35 -0400 From: Mia Sherman Subject: [USS CALYPSO] Hello and Goodbye [SS Century Hawk, R'gnar V] "Joshua Industries? What in blazes is a Joshua Industry?" Hank growled, staring blankly at the message on his screen. "What's that, Hank?" Shira asked calmly. "Joshua Industries. It says they want to talk to me, although I'll be damned if I know about what." Zahn looked up from his scanning of the R'gnor V news. "That sounds pretty suspicious to me, you know. It could be a trap, set by whomever kidnapped Paul." "On the other hand, it could be legit," countered Shira. "They may just want Hank to run something for them." Hank grinned, and stuck his thumbs into his belt. "Yeah. I am pretty well known in these sectors, aren't I?" "Ook." "Yes, and you too. Of course, partner!" Turning to Zahn, and eyeing the dispassionate Tarak standing behind the Trill-turned-human, Hank nodded. "I'm going. If they're honest, no problem." The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "And if they are not?" "Then Crunchi can take you folks back to your own ship and come back for me." "Ookook!" Shira turned in her chair and stared up at the roguish mercenary. "He's right. We're all in this together now-- if one goes, we all should." "It is a trap," Tarak said coldly. "We should not go." "They could know something," Zahn pointed out. "Indeed. A good place to dispose of our bodies, perhaps." "There's four of us. We'll be able to hold our own if it does come to a fight, and escape if captured. Plus, we have Crunchi." "There could be many more of them." Zahn shook his head. "You're outvoted, Tarak. Bring your phaser if you want, but we're all going to meet these people from Joshua Industries, whoever they are. Hank, did they give any details for where and when?" ***** [Temporary offices of Joshua Industries, R'gnar V] Two men and a Horta waited inside for them, all three simultaneously looking up-- or at least the two men did; with the Horta is was difficult to tell-- when they entered. The shorter of the men looked them over and nodded. "Zahn? What happened to your spots?" Zahn frowned, and stepped forward a pace. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Shut the door, please," the first man asked. "It's Li." Shira blinked, and stared surprisedly at him. Li? "Li?" He smiled. "Doctor Ng did a good job. We've already found the lab. It's been cleared out. Bleyn's going through ships' manifests to try to track down where they went, while Badei on the CALYPSO and Karian here go through the lab's files. They made some sort of a massive sale not too long ago. We're trying to figure out who's getting hit." "Waitaminute!" Hank said. "Slow down." Li nodded. "Mister Single. I wish I could, but I'd like Zahn's help with the lab files and Shira's and Tarak's with the manifests." His comm console beeped. He hit a button. "Doctor Kateb here." "Cap... er... Kateb, this is Sirosa Badei. We've found something big." "Have you? What is it?" "Ah . . ." Badei paused, considering. "I think you'd better come and see, Doctor." "On my way," Li and Zahn replied in unison. Pellek grinned, and clapped a hand to the spotless Trill's shoulder, chuckling. "Shira, Tarak, please help Bleyn with the manifests. Mister Single, your help in this mission will not go unrewarded. Kateb to Badei." "Badei here." "Please beam up both away teams."