Beg, Steal or Borrow – The Tales of James Darson: Rule #48 - Part 2
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
ON:
Darson arrived two days later on a transport leased through a front company on Vulcan. With his innocuous clothes, and a well-used, but fake ID, he breezed through the customs at the run down space port at the edge of the large Klingon city. He had purposely chosen this one instead of the main one in the city center in order to avoid running into more surveillance systems and scrutiny then he needed.
Once out of the docks, he hailed a shuttle and took it to the residence where the team was staying. It was their eighth day. There were four of them, each a hand-picked part of the Silencers. Except for one green operative, the rest had history with Darson that went back almost a decade, even cutting their teeth together during their training. Each new how the others operated, and they all trusted one another, which in their line of work again was no small thing.
A burly Klingon was the team leader, Drex of the House of Antaak. He was waiting in the hot hotel room for Darson, ready to bring him up to speed on the tactical situation. The other three men were out keeping an eye on the target. The massive Marine towered almost half a foot above Darson, and his hair was grown out instead of the normal Marine cut in order to better fit into a crowd of Klingons.
Darson set his flight bag down on one raggedy bed and looked at the map on the portable terminal in the corner that displayed a detailed map of the surrounding city.
“Here is the hotel, here is the office building,” Drex indicated one spot and then the other, “and here is his apartment.”
Darson intensely studied the map with a practiced eye, “How does he travel back and forth between the office and the apartment?”
“He walks…possibly just for the exercise, or maybe he just doesn’t want to be noticed by taking a shuttle, that dishonorable coward.”
Darson traced a couple of the more obvious routes on the map with his finger, “How long does it take him to walk from the office to the apartment?”
“He averages six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Quickest time is five minutes and twelve seconds. He was late and in a hurry. Longest time was just over fifteen minutes. He stopped to talk to someone along the way”
“Any signs of surveillance by the local law enforcement, military, or anybody else?”
“Nothing.
Darson frowned, “That’s strange.”
“I thought so at first,” Drex growled, “but then I began to think that maybe somebody has someone on the inside.”
“A business associate?”
“Associate, employee, maintenance, there are many choices. We’ve picked up some chatter from inside. It appears that not everyone is entirely comfortable with what this Ferengi baktag’s business ventures.
Darson’s left eyebrow shot up in surprise, “You’ve got the building bugged?”
“Yes and no. We’ve managed to infiltrate the more readily accessible areas, however we cannot get into any secure section unnoticed. We have to make do with external surveillance as the workers come and go. Caught a couple of the older ones, the ones with fancier clothes and a concubine on hand at all time whispering yesterday about how Farek, though he was making immense profit, may be guilty of stepping over the line. That he stopped being an ‘honest businessman’. Humph, Ferengi scum are never honest a day in their lives.”
This didn’t really surprise Darson. The overwhelming majority of the Ferengi made exploitation the norm in their everyday life, but took steps to ensure that they remained a mostly neutral entity by avoiding extremely public actions with bad taste, in order to retain trust for their business deals with other species. The odd salvage scuffle aside, actions like Farek’s were more the exception than the rule.
“Anything else?” Darson asked as he looked over some of the other surveillance footage that had been gathered.
“Yes. He is a very…dedicated…worker, apparently. Leaves early and comes back late at night. The apartment complex empties out during the day, so we ascertained that it was fairly safe. We examined his personal terminal,” Drex extracted an isolinear rod from a pocket, “we copied all his files for you.”
Darson grinned slightly but as he was about to take it, he was struck by the rather disgusted look on Drex’s face, “What?”
“…the data.”
“What about the data?”
“…a great deal of it consists of…”
“…of what?”
“Pornography.”
There was silence for a moment.
“No way?”
“Yes. I must admit to examining some of it during my search. It is extremely deviant, and I believe the word would be… ‘kinky’.”
Darson chuckled slightly, “Well, I’ll take your word for it,” he reached out and grabbed the stick, “you never know with these idiots, do you?”
“Indeed…but I must confess that this sort of behavior does not surprise me. He is scum.”
“Hmm…well, they’re all running from something. What else?”
“Best spot to hit him is obviously between his office and apartment. Two round trips a day, before sunup, and then at 2000 hours. This slightly limits our options, but I believe that the best tactical advantage could be gained from the later trip.
“Why not early in the morning?” Darson queried as he resumed his examination of the surveillance data.
“It would work,” Drex conceded, “but the sunrise trip has tripled the traffic that the evening one does. By the time he heads home it’s almost eleven, and the streets are empty.”
“He walks alone?” Darson asked, still not believing the intel report he had received a couple of days ago.
“Yes.”
This guy was a real moron, Darson thought. But it made a lot of sense when you looked at his early years. Farek or ‘Zorsec’ as he was known at the time, was born into a very prominent family on Ferenginar, the son of a very powerful member of the Ferengi Commerce Authority. He had been indoctrinated at a very early age into the strictest and most unyielding brand of the Rules of Acquisition, taught that they were the only rules that mattered in the galaxy, and that he should follow them regardless of the cost. At the age of fifteen, it was revealed that his father had cheated and killed a fellow member of the FCA. As a result, their family became a pariah. The father was ousted from the Commerce Authority, stripped of all his wealth, and his business license revoked. Unable to bear with the shame, the father committed suicide.
While all this was happening, Farek fled his home, changed his name, and took up refuge elsewhere. He had already completed the Ferengi Attainment Ceremony, and could make his own way. He quickly became a shrewd and conniving businessman, completing transaction after transaction in order to build up his own capital. He eventually started his own business, and appeared to be on the rise.
However, this was not all due to “honest” transactions. He had actually been making deals with various pirate groups and other illicit organizations, running weapons and supplies, not caring about what they were going to be used for, only about how much latinum would find its way into his coffers.
Even that could have been ignored, but then he got into the business of kidnapping children, and trafficking them to the Orion Syndicate to be put into slavery and sold. That crossed the line.
Farek’s comings and goings went unnoticed for the most part by Authorities. It didn’t matter that children had been disappearing on whatever planet he visited, nobody saw the pattern. When Farek was finally arrested, it was due to sending a freighter out of Klingon territory with a full load. He had taken almost two dozen Klingon children and many of other species and crammed them all onto a transport for shipment out. He had a near flawless cover, and he had bribed whomever he could to ensure that the transport wouldn’t be stopped. It would have worked, but a special task force at Starfleet Intelligence was already on to him. The hackers at the Agency were breaking through firewalls as fast as they could in an effort to track the communications and money that the Syndicate were sending across the quadrant. They stumbled across Farek and alerted the Klingon Navy.
When the authorities went to raid his apartment, they came up with nothing incriminating, but the sensors they had brought along got some strange readings from the room across the hall. They broke down the door and found evidence of many life forms living in the same space in cramped and unsanitary conditions.
Out in space, when asked to stop and prepare to be boarded by a Bird of Prey, the freighter commenced evasive maneuvers. However it was disabled and boarded. Once aboard, the Klingons discovered the children shut in the Cargo bay, and eight crew members that were tightlipped.
Farek went to jail with all of them. They all kept their mouths shut and sat there for over a year while the Klingons and SI tried to figure out what to do. By the time this case ended up in court, Klingon-Federation relations were at a low. The judge was convinced that there was a lack of hard evidence put forward by the state. In the case of Farek, no crime had been committed. In the judge’s opinion, Farek was guilty of nothing more than association with some bad people. After all, He hadn’t been on that transport, and nobody would admit to being bribed by him, and none of the other crew would flip.
The judge ordered his immediate release while the others were tried, with the one stipulation that he remain on planet until the trial had concluded. Within a week, he was back up to his old tricks, infused with a false sense of invincibility.
There were worse offenders out there, to be sure, but this one was too close to home. Too brazen. Who knew what he would try next if he was left unchecked? No, it was better to deal with him now. Make an example of him. Howard wanted Farek to disappear, but Darson had an even better idea. And the more he mulled it over the more he liked it.
Darson walked over to the window, looked out at the gray sky to the spires of the Great Hall in the distance and said calmly, “All right, here’s what we’re going to do.”
TBC
OFF:
Lieutenant Colonel James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
Deep Space 5
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | The Tales of James Darson: Rule #48 - Part 2 | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Wed Jul 22, 2009 @ 3:12am | |
| Location | Qo'nos | |
| Timeline | 2368 |
Darson arrived two days later on a transport leased through a front company on Vulcan. With his innocuous clothes, and a well-used, but fake ID, he breezed through the customs at the run down space port at the edge of the large Klingon city. He had purposely chosen this one instead of the main one in the city center in order to avoid running into more surveillance systems and scrutiny then he needed.
Once out of the docks, he hailed a shuttle and took it to the residence where the team was staying. It was their eighth day. There were four of them, each a hand-picked part of the Silencers. Except for one green operative, the rest had history with Darson that went back almost a decade, even cutting their teeth together during their training. Each new how the others operated, and they all trusted one another, which in their line of work again was no small thing.
A burly Klingon was the team leader, Drex of the House of Antaak. He was waiting in the hot hotel room for Darson, ready to bring him up to speed on the tactical situation. The other three men were out keeping an eye on the target. The massive Marine towered almost half a foot above Darson, and his hair was grown out instead of the normal Marine cut in order to better fit into a crowd of Klingons.
Darson set his flight bag down on one raggedy bed and looked at the map on the portable terminal in the corner that displayed a detailed map of the surrounding city.
“Here is the hotel, here is the office building,” Drex indicated one spot and then the other, “and here is his apartment.”
Darson intensely studied the map with a practiced eye, “How does he travel back and forth between the office and the apartment?”
“He walks…possibly just for the exercise, or maybe he just doesn’t want to be noticed by taking a shuttle, that dishonorable coward.”
Darson traced a couple of the more obvious routes on the map with his finger, “How long does it take him to walk from the office to the apartment?”
“He averages six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Quickest time is five minutes and twelve seconds. He was late and in a hurry. Longest time was just over fifteen minutes. He stopped to talk to someone along the way”
“Any signs of surveillance by the local law enforcement, military, or anybody else?”
“Nothing.
Darson frowned, “That’s strange.”
“I thought so at first,” Drex growled, “but then I began to think that maybe somebody has someone on the inside.”
“A business associate?”
“Associate, employee, maintenance, there are many choices. We’ve picked up some chatter from inside. It appears that not everyone is entirely comfortable with what this Ferengi baktag’s business ventures.
Darson’s left eyebrow shot up in surprise, “You’ve got the building bugged?”
“Yes and no. We’ve managed to infiltrate the more readily accessible areas, however we cannot get into any secure section unnoticed. We have to make do with external surveillance as the workers come and go. Caught a couple of the older ones, the ones with fancier clothes and a concubine on hand at all time whispering yesterday about how Farek, though he was making immense profit, may be guilty of stepping over the line. That he stopped being an ‘honest businessman’. Humph, Ferengi scum are never honest a day in their lives.”
This didn’t really surprise Darson. The overwhelming majority of the Ferengi made exploitation the norm in their everyday life, but took steps to ensure that they remained a mostly neutral entity by avoiding extremely public actions with bad taste, in order to retain trust for their business deals with other species. The odd salvage scuffle aside, actions like Farek’s were more the exception than the rule.
“Anything else?” Darson asked as he looked over some of the other surveillance footage that had been gathered.
“Yes. He is a very…dedicated…worker, apparently. Leaves early and comes back late at night. The apartment complex empties out during the day, so we ascertained that it was fairly safe. We examined his personal terminal,” Drex extracted an isolinear rod from a pocket, “we copied all his files for you.”
Darson grinned slightly but as he was about to take it, he was struck by the rather disgusted look on Drex’s face, “What?”
“…the data.”
“What about the data?”
“…a great deal of it consists of…”
“…of what?”
“Pornography.”
There was silence for a moment.
“No way?”
“Yes. I must admit to examining some of it during my search. It is extremely deviant, and I believe the word would be… ‘kinky’.”
Darson chuckled slightly, “Well, I’ll take your word for it,” he reached out and grabbed the stick, “you never know with these idiots, do you?”
“Indeed…but I must confess that this sort of behavior does not surprise me. He is scum.”
“Hmm…well, they’re all running from something. What else?”
“Best spot to hit him is obviously between his office and apartment. Two round trips a day, before sunup, and then at 2000 hours. This slightly limits our options, but I believe that the best tactical advantage could be gained from the later trip.
“Why not early in the morning?” Darson queried as he resumed his examination of the surveillance data.
“It would work,” Drex conceded, “but the sunrise trip has tripled the traffic that the evening one does. By the time he heads home it’s almost eleven, and the streets are empty.”
“He walks alone?” Darson asked, still not believing the intel report he had received a couple of days ago.
“Yes.”
This guy was a real moron, Darson thought. But it made a lot of sense when you looked at his early years. Farek or ‘Zorsec’ as he was known at the time, was born into a very prominent family on Ferenginar, the son of a very powerful member of the Ferengi Commerce Authority. He had been indoctrinated at a very early age into the strictest and most unyielding brand of the Rules of Acquisition, taught that they were the only rules that mattered in the galaxy, and that he should follow them regardless of the cost. At the age of fifteen, it was revealed that his father had cheated and killed a fellow member of the FCA. As a result, their family became a pariah. The father was ousted from the Commerce Authority, stripped of all his wealth, and his business license revoked. Unable to bear with the shame, the father committed suicide.
While all this was happening, Farek fled his home, changed his name, and took up refuge elsewhere. He had already completed the Ferengi Attainment Ceremony, and could make his own way. He quickly became a shrewd and conniving businessman, completing transaction after transaction in order to build up his own capital. He eventually started his own business, and appeared to be on the rise.
However, this was not all due to “honest” transactions. He had actually been making deals with various pirate groups and other illicit organizations, running weapons and supplies, not caring about what they were going to be used for, only about how much latinum would find its way into his coffers.
Even that could have been ignored, but then he got into the business of kidnapping children, and trafficking them to the Orion Syndicate to be put into slavery and sold. That crossed the line.
Farek’s comings and goings went unnoticed for the most part by Authorities. It didn’t matter that children had been disappearing on whatever planet he visited, nobody saw the pattern. When Farek was finally arrested, it was due to sending a freighter out of Klingon territory with a full load. He had taken almost two dozen Klingon children and many of other species and crammed them all onto a transport for shipment out. He had a near flawless cover, and he had bribed whomever he could to ensure that the transport wouldn’t be stopped. It would have worked, but a special task force at Starfleet Intelligence was already on to him. The hackers at the Agency were breaking through firewalls as fast as they could in an effort to track the communications and money that the Syndicate were sending across the quadrant. They stumbled across Farek and alerted the Klingon Navy.
When the authorities went to raid his apartment, they came up with nothing incriminating, but the sensors they had brought along got some strange readings from the room across the hall. They broke down the door and found evidence of many life forms living in the same space in cramped and unsanitary conditions.
Out in space, when asked to stop and prepare to be boarded by a Bird of Prey, the freighter commenced evasive maneuvers. However it was disabled and boarded. Once aboard, the Klingons discovered the children shut in the Cargo bay, and eight crew members that were tightlipped.
Farek went to jail with all of them. They all kept their mouths shut and sat there for over a year while the Klingons and SI tried to figure out what to do. By the time this case ended up in court, Klingon-Federation relations were at a low. The judge was convinced that there was a lack of hard evidence put forward by the state. In the case of Farek, no crime had been committed. In the judge’s opinion, Farek was guilty of nothing more than association with some bad people. After all, He hadn’t been on that transport, and nobody would admit to being bribed by him, and none of the other crew would flip.
The judge ordered his immediate release while the others were tried, with the one stipulation that he remain on planet until the trial had concluded. Within a week, he was back up to his old tricks, infused with a false sense of invincibility.
There were worse offenders out there, to be sure, but this one was too close to home. Too brazen. Who knew what he would try next if he was left unchecked? No, it was better to deal with him now. Make an example of him. Howard wanted Farek to disappear, but Darson had an even better idea. And the more he mulled it over the more he liked it.
Darson walked over to the window, looked out at the gray sky to the spires of the Great Hall in the distance and said calmly, “All right, here’s what we’re going to do.”
TBC
OFF:
Lieutenant Colonel James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
Deep Space 5