Scavenger hunt

Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 5:12pm by Lieutenant Commander Aerdan Jos
Edited on on May 26, 2014 @ 5:13pm

Mission: USS Pendragon
Location: NESTIS VII
Tags: PENDRAGON, Aerdan, Gamma Quadrant

“Scavenger Hunt” (Continued from “Searches, Stealth and Succor” / “The Lies She Tells Herself”)

Location: NESTIS VII
Stardate: 2.140409.0015
Scene: slums

~*~

As Drake peeled off, the rest of the away team slipped through back alleys and darkened streets. Led by their Klingon guide, Daris Kal and Izhlana Vort spread out, keeping their heads low.

A myriad of languages created an odd cacophony of noise that rose through the streets from the low huts and darkened buildings that glutted the slum section of the massive colonial city. The universal translator could pick up a smattering of it, coming through in static bursts like someone continually changing the channel on an old fashioned radio. It was an aural chaos that merely compliments the odd acrid smells and mismash of housing they were weaving through. Everything from old fashioned bricks to modular emergency housing long since turned permanent and everything in between was on display.

“In here.” Karmaq’s rough voice called, as he gestured with a scarred hand towards a doorway which was little more than a crack in the brickwork covered over by an old oiled tarp. Daris Kal slowed, suspicion etching across his features as he looked the alleyway up and down.

Aerdan moved forward, his Andorian ‘prisoner’ still slung over his shoulder until Izhlana placed a hand on his chest. “No way, I’ll go first.”

“You sure?” he murmured lightly.

“I think Cade hit the nail on the head when he called you a self-sacrificing nutjob. Honestly Doc, I love you, but I am not letting you go headlong into danger.” Seeing the consternation on his face she added, “Doctor.”

“Thanks. I think.” Aerdan lisped lightly back.

Izzy slipped in after the Klingon, then Aerdan and Thomas, followed by the rest of the team and finally Daris. Well, the rest of the team save Drake – Aerdan had lost track of the ILO and had already given him leave to operate how he saw fit. That usually would have troubled the recently minted executive officer; but ever since the Borg incident on ANDALUSIA, he found that Drake was the sort one could trust.

Karmaq was still and tense until the last of them filtered through and the tarp was dropped. He stayed by the crevice for some moments more to make sure no one was coming before he relaxed and waved them forward.

The away team found themselves in a passageway that appeared to be scavenged from a freighter. Rusted metal showed the crumbling brick beyond, and the hallway was lit by guttering old fashioned ion lanterns that cast a distinct orange haze across the path. It forked some twenty meters down towards an open room and a stairwell.

“What is this place?” Thomas asked quietly.

“Refuge.” Karmaq replied in a gruff simplistic tone. “Those who are not rabble, those who are recognizable gather here. You were looking for scavenge? I will take you to the snitch.”

“The snitch?” Aerdan perked a snowy brow. “And a gathering? Of alpha quadrant races?”

“Close enough.” Karmaq returned, drawing them into the open room.

A ramshackle shelter, there were various groups of aliens vaguely segregated by race. Lean-tos and tents glutted the side walls, while tables and small stands filled the center. Part refugee camp, part bazaar and part mess hall all rolled into one, it was so eclectic that few even raised their heads to see who had entered.

The Klingon put a finger to his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. “Charan, get over here!” he called like one would call a dog.

A shaggy head popped up and a gawky adolescent kid leapt over a small gaming table, uttering a half-hearted apology before sprinting over. Daris Kal instinctively tensed as the kid neared. Cardassian.

“Snitch. You know the parts sellers on the northside?” Karmaq asked gruffly.

“Oh, yeah! I have the entire layout of that half of the bazaar memorized. Piece of cake, what’cha looking for?” He grinned in a toothy manner, slowing down to half just before the group.

“Not me, them.” He hooked a thumb at the away team. “Make a deal.”

“Oooh, shiny uniforms.” Charan’s eyes glittered as he hooked his thumbs in his ratty belt. “What kind of parts are you looking for?”

“Engine parts.” Izhlana started. “What kind of deals do you make?”

“You know, normal 10% finders fee, or 10% value in food cards. Or just food.” He grinned slowly.

“Food cards?” Aerdan queried.

Karmaq gave a clipped nod. “It gives gutter scum like us access to the food replicators. Basically currency.”

The Andorian gave a silent nod, clenching his teeth. Any society that used food as currency was one that needed help in his book. As the conversation fell to silence, he took a step back and looked at the gathered members of the away team. “What do you all think?”

“I would rather not deal with a Cardassian.” Kal intoned quietly, under his breath, his eyes locking onto Aerdan’s gaze.

The Andorian heard him clearly, unfortunately so did their offered help. Charan canted his head slightly, brow ridges creasing. “What’s a Cardassian?”

Daris Kal paused for a second and his jaw very nearly dropped. How could something not know what it was? “You. You’re a Cardassian.”

“If you say so.” The kid shrugged, turning back to the others. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Wait.” Daris started. “How do you not know what you are?”

The kid shrugged lightly, looking at the Bajoran as if he wondered what in the heck he was as well. “I was raised here? There are no others.”

“Females of his race fetch a high price as concubines to the Ullithane.” Karmaq growled. “They tend to get rounded up and sold off or they sell themselves off when food gets low.”

There was a quiet silence that hovered around the away team before Izzy murmured, “I think it’s a fair deal and we need the parts.”

As assent was passed around the gathered Charan offered a small grin. “Great! We leave first thing tomorrow morning when the vendors open up.”

~*~

It left them with an evening to spend. Aerdan hovered over his captive, waiting for her to awaken, as the others spread out to investigate. It was a curious question – what would refugees from their own species or at least their own quadrant become when separated from their homeworlds for decades – sometimes centuries?

The ragtag survivors banded together. The away team found that the Ullithane species who ruled this colony planet enforced a strict class structure designed to keep any non-Ullithane alien as a third class citizen. Second class citizens were unusual, half-Ullithane hybrids. The gnawing question that Daris Kal had on how could a Cardassian not know their own species was answered by Tala, an over talkative Tellarite who cheerfully informed them that the Ullithane were able to breed with certain reptilian species – Selay and Cardassians being the two he recognized. Both species females were rounded up and disappeared into the capitol more often than not. The males were dumped off or ignored.

Tala also informed them that some refugees tried to serve the Ullithane in the hopes of raising their own status. She guessed that the party which attacked the away team were examples of this. Shaking her porcine snout, she added that most who served the Ullithane were promised riches but ended up living a short, nasty lifespan with little reward. But they were well fed.

Food was a rare commodity for those in the slums. With few natural animals on the planet, there was little non-replicated meat. A few of the ships had animals on them – but the only prevalent species in the city that was not kept by the Ullithane masters was a vicious rat-like vole creature that bred and lived off of refuse. They were hard to keep away from homes and hard to kill; though some refugees made a decent living on hunting them. When offered a strip of dried vole-meat, Izzy accepted out of politeness and decided that it was only barely edible.

And so things passed with a quiet discomfort until Thomas Varn decided to ask a loaded question of their overly talkative Tellarite companion…

“Tala, what is down the stairs, and why is it guarded?”

She turned, sticking her snout in the air. “That is the temple.”

“Temple?” It was Daris Kal’s turn to query. He had not seen a single Bajoran here, but the terminology was intimately familiar to him. “What sort of temple?”

Tala shrugged. “When they first created this refuge, they built the basement out of a chunk of crashed ship they were able to salvage. That ship had something in its hull… some sort of artifact.”

“Artifact?” Aerdan’s head snapped up immediately. “What sort of artifact?”

“Black, cylindrical, shiny, about…” Tala started, Aerdan cut her off

“This big, luminous blue lines that form indecipherable writing, gives off a white light?” He held his hands up indicating the size and general shape.

Tala’s eyes widened. “Yes, exactly… have you seen it? Were you down there?”

Aerdan’s head raised and his eyes locked directly with Thomas, and then Izzy. “We need to contact the Captain.”

“You think it’s the same as the one that brought us here?” Izhlana asked

Commander Jos nodded. “I think we were drawn here because of it.”

“But we ended up in the graveyard.” Thomas pointed out.

“So did every other ship.” Daris murmured.

“The station had the ability to draw ships in. We were at the edge of the graveyard.” Aerdan stood, rocking on his feet a little. “It is likely the station situated itself near enough to the artifact to be able to interfere. To pick ships off and digest them at its leisure.”

“You think we can use it to get back?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure, but it’s a good bet.” Aerdan turned. “First things first – get a communicator boosted and contact Peter. Let’s see if we can get a look in the shrine and at this artifact and then, we see where we can go from there.”

~*~

NRPG: I ended up cutting this a little short due to a hellacious work schedule. Hopefully more as the week settled down, but feel free to take this in any direction as you like.

Hey, we finally found that pesky artifact!

~*~

Jamie LeBlanc
Lt. Commander Aerdan Jos
Executive Officer
USS PENDRAGON