Testing the Waters

Posted on Tue Jan 21st, 2025 @ 11:23pm by Lieutenant Commander Drake Wescott & Lieutenant Didrea Zade & Lieutenant Inara Deyren

Mission: Pandora's Box
Location: USS Vanguard: Bridge
Timeline: MD4 - afternoon
1981 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

A couple of raiders were already present when the rest of the squadron arrived, and over the last 24 hours they only seemed to increase in number. Many of them were small, likely with a crew of no more than two dozen, with hulls made up of at least three different metals. Within the mix were two Ferengi ships, a couple of Tzenkethi, and some Tholian scouts. With four Starfleet vessels near the moon and three patrolling around them, there was definitely tension simmering.

It didn't take much for a couple of the raiders to attempt to inch closer, and they were promptly met with warning shots once they were at the perimeter that the squadron set up. It was almost like a game: a raider would scoot up to the perimeter to try and push it back, and then they'd turn tail and back off when a phaser beam burned their bow.

"Sir, one of the Ferengi ships is moving," came a report from Ops, a Bolian by the name of Lieutenant Thes Piyan. "It's 5000 kilometers from the perimeter and closing."

Drake sat up in his seat and angled it so that he was now facing the main view screen. The last few days had been repetitive and he had to admit he was getting tired of this game of cat and mouse. "Piyan, send the message," he ordered. When they first arrived he got annoyed saying the same thing again and again over the viewscreen and so he recorded a standard message that they could play when one of the ships decided it was bored of being the mouse.

This is Commander Drake of the USS Vanguard. Due to the highly volatile nature of the crashed ship, this area was now under the control of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. Blah...blah...blah... Please keep your distance for your own safety...blah...blah...blah... Any ship crossing the perimeter may be disabled...blah...blah...blah...

"Dreyren, what is the tactical readiness of the Ferengi ship?" Drake asked the Betazoid sitting at the tactical station.

Inara’s eye twitched as she looked over to the Bolian, she had money for the Ferengi and she’d be sure to collect it from him in due course. A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth as she reviewed the sensor data they were an easy target, no real threat but she was interested to hear the level of bargaining they would be trying to pull. After all Dignity and an empty sack is worth the sack. Everyone was restless after the last few days, the ability to blow off a little steam the night before definitely reinvigorated her.

Westcott had more decorum for the finer points of diplomacy than she did, her limit was much lower than his. “They’re approaching from grid location 273.5, 149.8 mark 87. A Bronta-class explorer, Commander. Armed with standard phaser banks and a limited number of torpedoes. Shields are at 60% and holding steady. No weapons online, yet. Could be a decoy for something outside the network's range.” She added to Piyan’s data glad they’d taken the time to implement the network, the extra work paid off. This one was most certainly a mouse.

Thes gave the briefest of side-eyes to Inara, spotting her smirk. He should have known better than to place a bet with the chief of security, and frowned at the idea that he might actually lose. "It looks like they received the message, but they haven't changed course. They'll cross the perimeter in a few seconds."

"Yellow alert," Drake said. As the main lights dimmed and the bridge was bathed in a soft yellow glow, he turned to face the command panel to the right of his chair. He pressed a few buttons and changed the display to a tactical overview of their particular area of space. "Helm, change course to intercept. Dreyren, arm forward weapons and fire a few warning shots across their hull. Nothing too devastating please, otherwise you'll be filing the paperwork," he smirked.

Inara’s grin only widened as she glanced over at Thes, the satisfaction of an impending win too much to keep in check. She made light work over the console, arming the phasers with a fluid motion, her eyes never leaving the display as the Ferengi ship edged closer. She leaned back in her chair, tapping a finger thoughtfully against the console making sure it was just the warning shot requested.

"Yes, Sir. And I'll make sure to keep the paperwork light, Commander," The phasers fired across the Ferengi ship’s hull, and the Betazoid's attention shifted back to the tactical readings. It was always satisfying to remind people—especially the Ferengi—that diplomacy had its limits. Her eyes watching for the faintest shift in tactical scans.

The Ferengi ship stopped when some of the phaser blasts burned lines across the hull, as if thinking about whether it should continue. A couple seconds lapsed before some light from the aft indicated that it turned on thrusters and was trying to "crawl" past.

Inara rumbled to herself as the ship inched on. Apparently, they couldn’t afford to bypass a good profit and the risk was deemed worth it. “Targeting thrusters.” She announced increasing the power of the forward phasers enough to pop the bubble of their shields with a satisfying shimmer. The disruption to their stealthy movement drew them to an all-stop.

Eventually, the Vanguard won the attention of the Ferengi ship. Thes looked down then reported "Sir, incoming transmission from the Ferengi vessel."

"Finally," Drake replied as he rose from his seat. "On screen."

The screen blipped to life, revealing an unhappy Ferengi, his crooked teeth peeking through his scowl. Behind him, a couple of other little bald gremlins were scurrying around, some of them pausing to sneer at the sight of the people on the other side of the screen. The Ferengi in view spoke, his voice nasally and a little grinding to the ears. "You're outside of your jurisdiction, Starfleet! We saw the wreckage first, the profits belong to us!"

"You heard my message, DaiMon," Drake said, his voice booming and clear. "You might have seen the wreckage first but we got there first. This area is not safe and until it is no one is allowed through. Turn your ship around and kindly wait for the green light. I promise you'll be the first one we let in."

The Ferengi on the line hissed. "You can't just make up rules like that! Besides, the sixty-second Rule of Acquisition clearly states that the riskier the road, the greater the profit," he sneered. "We'll take our chance, Hu-man! There's nothing stopping you Starfleet types from taking the profits for yourselves! If anything, you'll waste a good fortune, so let us through and we will make sure that such fortune isn't misplaced!"

Thes did his best to keep the grimace of defeat off his face, the result being a faint twitch as his lips tried to scowl. Inara was right, the Ferengi would quote a Rule of Acquisition within the first minute of a transmission. That was two hours of his free time, gone.

The Betazoid’s jaw flexed in amusement, Rules of Acquisition, check. At least she’d have a training partner at her beck and call for the next few sessions. Her eyes settled on Piyan with another grin. She enjoyed being right, especially when it resulted success. It did paint a wider, darker picture. If even those who posed no real threat were trying to get in on the action, sure with enough attempts or organised infractions there would be too many to keep at bay.

"The Rules of Acquisition won't help you when your ship has been destroyed," Drake replied, a note of annoyance in his voice. "I have warned you twice and I will not do so again. Tactical," he said turning to face his officer. "Arm the forward torpedos and aim at the DaiMon's engines." He stared at the view screen and waited for the Fergeni's reaction. He didn't blink, just stared into the heavy brow of the alien's eyes. Your move DaiMon!

"Captain, they're targeting our engines," another Ferengi spoke up. The decided Ferengi captain whipped his head around, then scampered to the console to confirm the readings.

With a growl that sounded more like a feral cat's hiss, the Ferengi captain turned back to the viewscreen. While still annoyed, he was now tapping his little gremlin fingers together, scheming. "How about this, Starfleet? I can give you 20 bars of gold-pressed latinum for what I believe the Hu-mans call a VIP pass. You can even tell us where we can go so we don't touch your profits. It's the least you can do after you damaged my ship's thrusters!"

Inara gladly targeted torpedos as requested. "Target locked, tractor beam primed," she confirmed, her voice steady and crisp. She caught the faint edge of her Commander’s unspoken frustration, a subtle projection she had grown adept at reading. Her lips twitched in entertainment as she adjusted the lock, compensating for any potential movement from the Ferengi ship. Go on... just try it, she thought, the idea of forcing the DaiMon into a humiliating retreat almost too satisfying to resist. "Awaiting your orders, Commander."

"Thank you Lieutenant," Drake replied loudly, ensuring everyone on the Ferengi bridge could hear him. "I have no use for latinum DaiMon," he replied as he slumped back into his seat. "Tactical, on my mark," he added, making sure to use the station name so there was no misinterpretation on the Fergeni ship. "5...4...3..."

"Alright, alright!" The Ferengi exclaimed, waving his hands obnoxiously. While he had no issue handling these nuisance Starfleet ships, he only dealt with one at a time, and there were 6 others waiting to back up this one from what ship sensors could tell. With thrusters down, too, it only made his own ship that much more vulnerable. "We'll wait! But you're turning down a very profitable deal, Starfleet!"

The disappointment of not having to haul the Bronta back out of the perimeter was painted over Inara’s face, you didn’t need to be a telepath for that. Her hand remained hovered just in case there was a change of heart, she did promise no additional paperwork. In the back of her mind, she ticked over the probabilities and longer-range scans, it was going to get worse. It would undoubtedly be a co-ordinated effort that would breach the line and there would be no way to stop all of them.

Any risk wouldn’t just be contained to space, it would seep down into the surface as they attempted to beam down and scavenge what they could. Her jaw tensed, they needed a better plan.

"I'm glad we reached an understanding," Drake said, his mouth curling into a tight grin. "Reverse course and resume your previous position," he ordered the Ferengi commander, as though he were part of his crew. "And DaiMon," he moved towards the edge of his seat, staring directly into the Ferengi's eyes across the viewscreen. "We'll be watching." He pressed a button on the control panel to his right, cutting the viewscreen from the DaiMon's ship back to the starfield beyond the Vanguard before the DaiMon could utter another word.

"Stand down from yellow alert," Drake ordered. "Deyren, power down weapons but keep your eye on our friends out there. I doubt this is the last we've seen of them." He slumped back in his seat and allowed the tension to flow from his body. The Ferengi didn't worry him in the slightest, but they weren't the only ones out there and this mission was far from over.