Nevar had been traveling for days. His feelings were bittersweet as he approached SB901.
"SB901, this is the Runabout Winnipeg requesting clearance to dock," Nevar spoke in his usual matter of fact way.
[Winnipeg, this is docking control, Chief Edwards, you are cleared to dock at pad C, Commerce Section A. Welcome aboard Commander Pol]
Sighing loudly, Nevar said "That's Commander Nevar actually Chief."
[My mistake, Commander, I didn't realize you were Bajoran. The station commander requests you report to his office as soon as you dock.]
"Understood, Winnepeg out."
Now what, thought Pol to himself. My orders were simply to drop off the Runabout, and then stay on for a few days to see if I can help the new security crew get set up. What could, he thought as he checked the station info on the PADD nearby, this Commander Jeffreys want?
After docking the runabout, Nevar headed for station command, hoping to make this meeting with the station commander as brief as possible. He had been flying for days, and just wanted a strong drink and some sack time.
The door chimed and Nevar heard "Come in laddy," from within. Nevar entered the unsettled office of Commander Jeffreys. The place still looked a mess, the commander had obviously not worried about unpacking yet.
"Lieutenant Commander Nevar Pol, reporting as ordered, sir"
"Easy son, I'm still not used to being saluted. Come in sit down, can I get you a drink?"
As tempting as that was, Nevar declined, hoping not to prolong the meeting.
"I'm, ahem, Commander Gavin Jeffreys," he said with a little joke in his tone, "newly appointed commander of this hovering bucket, nice to meet you, please sit, I insist."
After some hesitation, Pol took the seat on the couch, as offered but still remained somewhat rigid, uncomfortable with his inability to get a strong "read" off the officer in front of him.
The commander finally took a seat, having obtained his drink from the replicator in the corner behind all the boxes. "Mr. Nevar, what did you want to be when you grew up?" asked the elder officer.
Looking somewhat taken offgaurd--which, with his Betazoid senses was a rarity--Nevar asked for clarification. "I'm sorry sir?" he asked, looking quizically at Jeffreys.
Undeflected, Jeffreys pressed on. "When you were a tike what did you want to be? You know when you got big and strong."
Nevar, thought for a moment. Deciding that frankness was always the best policy he said in a soft deadpan voice, "Alive, sir, when I grew up I simply wanted to be alive."
Jeffreys, mildly thrown off by the forwardness of the answer, but not wishing to get to much into what was obviously a somewhat private matter for the young Starfleet officer, continued, "Me, I wanted to be a spaceman, jaunting through the galaxy, meeting strange aliens and having a grand old time. But a few years in found I didn't have what it took."
Nevar, space lag having begun to catch up with him, asked bluntly: "No offense Sir, but what exactly is this all about?"
Jeffreys, blew softly on his hot tea, "Right to the point, eh? Well Mr. Nevar, it's about this: I wanted to be a spaceman but found I didn't have the stomach for it, you wanted to be left alone but now are here. Basically, what I'm trying to get at is we don't always get what we want, eh."
Nevar looked quietly into the face of the man, who managed to match his frankness and found it interesting that the man's calmness almost clouded Pol's ability to read him.
Jeffreys, continued, "Mr. Nevar I need you assistance. I've been put in charge of this station, and I doubt it's going to be easy. My first officer and I have both been engineers all our lives. You on the other hand have shown a knack for command. I would like you consider staying on board SB901 and pitching in. I could use an officer with some actual command experience, and with us just on the doorstep of the briar patch I could use a Chief of Security with some certain unique skills. Know what I mean?"
"With all due respect sir, my command experience hasn't proven all that valuable, and at this time I'm not even sure if I'm going to stay in Starfleet. I was ordered to drop off a runabout and then to stay on a few days to help you get set up, maybe we should just leave it at that." Nevar said rising off the couch.
Rising as well, Jeffreys followed Nevar to the door "Well think about it. Anyway, let's make use of your time while you're here. I have a problem I think you can help me with."
The bajoran paused for minute and faced the officer, listing to him. "Mr. Nevar, I have room for 300 shops, but no shopkeepers signing up. I understand you have an eye for commerce. What would you suggest I do to fill those shops."
Nevar spoke after only giving it a minute of thought. "Well sir, assuming you don't stumble over a wormhole, there is a Ferengi saying which you might adhere to 'if you want shops you need customers; if you want customers, you need three things: Safety, Freedom and no taxes"
Jeffreys, intrigued by the comments, said "So what would you suggest"
"Well safety's the first problem, this area, especially the patch, is relatively unexplored by UFP members, you need to give those people a feeling of safety. For that you will need a ship posted here, not a grand one but a ship nonetheless, otherwise, you won't have enough mobility to enforce and protect the station or it shops.
"Next, you want to establish a freedom to contract. Which for non JAG types, means that any two people of age and sound mind can establish a contract regardless of the terms, and you, as Starfleet's representative, won't interfere regardless how tasteless the terms might be. It means that the Ferengi can do business as Ferengi without having to always be worried that you will interfere just because you don't like the way they do business.
"The third requirement is the easiest. Declare SB901 a tax free zone. That always has worked in the past."
Jeffreys scratched his chin, "Well Commander, I thank you for your notions, why not get settled and we can discuss them some more over dinner."
"Actually Sir, I'm a little wiped from the trip, if its all the same, I'd like to just get settled and call it a night".
Nevar headed out the door as Jeffreys began to mull over the suggestions from the man that just left his office. He called up Lieutenant Commander Nevar Pol's bio and began to read.
Nevar took the lift to the Commerce Section and began to wander around the station. As he passed the infirmary he "felt" something. Heading inside, he saw a patient in a white, backless robe waving a laser scalpel back and forth, inches away from a young female Cardassian.
The patient, was obviously greatly disturbed and possibly suffering from some sort of dementia.
"Get back you monster, you won't get another crack at me."
The female doctor looked unsure of what to do "Easy now Mr. Lebou, no one is going to hurt you. You are suffering from Te'll Syndrome, and as a result you having a delusion, a flashback, you aren't in Stalag 13 anymore, no one here is going to hurt you."
The patient seemed unconvinced. "That's what all you spoon heads say, but I know the truth..."
Slipping slowly behind the disturbed patient, Nevar cleared his throat and reached out with his mind, ~ahem, Mr. Lebou you are looking well.~
Lebou looked at the young officer quizically "do I know you?"
"It's me Davin Jax, we went to boot camp together. You don't want to hurt her man, spoon head or not."
Lebou, now thoroughly confused shook his head, as if that might clear out the fog in his thoughts. He Dropped his guard slightly "Jax, is that you?"
As Lebou dropped his guard, Nevar moved in quickly, striping the laser scalpel from the deranged man's hand and knocking him backwards towards the Cardassian female, who in turn administered a hypo spray into her patient's neck, rendering him unconscious.
Nevar helped the Cardassian female load Mr. Lebou back into the bio bed. This time she secured his body with restraints.
Turning to Pol, she said. "Thank you Lieutenant. For a moment there I wasn't sure what I was going to do."
Nevar looking displeased, "In the future, you should either sedate him or restrain him."
Nodding, the Cardassian stuck out her hand, "I'm Dr. Rena Galor"
Nevar refusing to take it. He simply turned to the door and called spitefully over his shoulder, "Just keep him sedated or restrained. If you can't manage either. Use the EMH, maybe its beside manner will be more suitable to the patients"
With that, the Bajoran officer headed back into the Commerce section. Stopping in the middle, Nevar looked up, seeing the mutli-tiered stacks of shops, currently all were empty, but surrounded by Starfleet personnel busy trying to get them up and ready for potential tenants.
"The sooner, the better" And with that he headed to his temporary quarters.