"I assure you, this ale is of the finest quality." The salesman adjusted his tunic. His chiseled face was accented by his deep brown eyes. His brown hair was combed back neatly, until he moved his head, and the once neat bunch of hair started to fold down across his forehead.
The buyer, a Ferengi male, looked suspiciously over the crates. He popped one open, and pulled a bottle out of the packaging holding it in place. "Hmph. I'm not so sure Hu-man."
"Whoah, what's there not to believe daddy-o?" He flashed a wide smile at the Ferengi. "One hundred percent Romulan ale, with no artificial colors or ingredients."
The Ferengi looked over the seller's shoulder to an older man, with a graying beard and brown hair. Next to him stood a sultry young female, with blazing red hair and emerald eyes. The older man nodded to the Ferengi. "Very well Hu-man. I will take this shipment."
"All right, well that'll be five hundred bars of gold pressed latinum."
"Five hundred bars?!" the Ferengi exclaimed, nearly exploding.
"Yeah. Four hundred, and then another hundred for having to sit in Federation controlled space waiting for you to show up. This isn't exactly the best cargo to have in your hold."
"I will not pay such an outrageous price! I am an assistant chief to the head of commerce on Ferenginar!"
"Well hello Mr. Fancypants." The salesman said sarcastically. Quickly, he reached over his head, and behind his back, and produced a phaser rifle. "Now listen up you primitive screwhead. This is a Federation Type IIIB Assault Rifle. Newest on the line. I'm sure you don't wanna be on the receiving end of this bad boy now don't ya?" He eased the muzzle end of the phaser rifle up to the nose of the Ferengi. "Now we won't have any more problems will we?" The Ferengi sheepishly shook his head. "Great!. Now, press your thumb on the thumbplate." The Ferengi complied, still under the watchful gaze of the businessman. With that, the credits that the businessman had wanted were transferred to his account. "All right, now you get on your merry way." He stood watching as the Ferengi and his cargo vanished in a transporter column.
"You know Ashton, there are better ways of doing business," the elder man said, approaching the younger.
"Now where's the fun in that Jacen?" Ashton replied, holstering the rifle. "I still got your credits." The Jacen that Ashton was referring to was Jacen Klevin, the head of a shipping conglomerate that spread across the whole of the Alpha and Beta quadrants. He had people everywhere, and Ash happened to be one of them.
"And what of the homing beacon on the Ferengi?" Jacen asked, making sure that the other item the Ferengi was to "receive" was safe.
"It's there too. I can track him on the Remington"
"Very well." Ashton turned to leave.
"Ashton, there is one more thing." Jacen stood with his hands clasped in front of him.
Ashton turned to face the group. "What's that?"
"I've got another assignment for you..."
Scene: Supply Base 901...
The Remington dropped from warp in the large shadow of Starbase 901. "Whoah there," Ashton said quietly to himself. "I thought this was supposed to be a supply station."
Immediately, he was being hailed. [Bajoran cargo vessel. Identify yourself immediately.]
"This is the SS Remington. I've come to start up a business in storefront three niner alpha."
There was a momentary silence as the computer logs were checked. [O.K. we have you on the merchant list. Hold fast, and we'll send an escort to show you to your docking location.]
"Understood. Remington out." The communications channel closed, and, not wanting to make any quick enemies on the station, Ashton held his position awaiting the escort. Almost immediately, the shape of two sleek fighters were approaching. "MF Thirty-four hundreds. I didn't realize they still used those hunks of junk."
[SS Remington this is Captain Bicardi. You'll follow me and my wingman towards the main docking area.]
"All right, lead on." Ashton brought his ship in behind the two fighters and followed them in to massive docking bay of the station. The two Hammerheads led the freighter to an empty docking birth, and eventually veered off.
[Remington, this will be your temporary birth until a new one is assigned to your vessel.]
"All right then. Thanks a lot there daddy-o." Ashton closed the communications channel before he would be greeted by some off color retort from the Marine pilot. He brought the Remington into its docking position with ease, and began to lock down the main computer systems. With the umbilicals connected, he exited the vessel and out onto the station.
Commerce Section, SB901...
The commerce section was busy. One of the busiest that Ashton had ever seen outside of Risa. He finally found his allotted space on the second level of the commerce section. It wasn't a large or glorious storefront, but it would serve his purposes. The cover for his little intelligence gathering operation on the station was that of a clothing store covering the latest in fashions. He'd have to start making up some applications to hire some part time workers for the store as well.
"Ash?" a female voice called from the distance. Ashton looked around. A female he hadn't seen in years was walking towards him at a rapid pace. "I haven't seen you in ages."
"Right..." Ash said with a confused smile on his face.
"Mary? Mary Katerinal? We dated a while back."
Ashton continued to give her a blank response.
"I broke up with you after hitting you on the head with a glass vase."
"Oh yeah. Now I remember you. You ran off with that Bajoran businessman."
"Yeah. We broke up a few months after that. That's why, I was hoping, we could get back together sometime."
"Lemme get this straight. First you wanna kill me, now you wanna kiss me." Ashton paused for a moment. "Blow."
The woman reached back and slapped Ashton across the face. "You're impossible you shallow man." She began to walk away.
"Well baby... You got real ugly!" he yelled after her. "Women... sheesh." He rubbed his cheek. After giving in the command codes to the storefront door, it opened, and the shudders along the transparent aluminum window pane began to retract letting in the light from the commerce section. He began to do a small visual inventory of the items when a Starfleet officer walked in.
"What vas dat all about?" the officer asked in a thick Cajun accent.
Ash spun around to see who was talking. "Oh. That was an old problem from awhile back."
"Believe me, I understand," the officer laughed lightly. "Paul Deveraux. Science officer aboard zis station."
"Ashton Liteboughlt. But everyone calls me 'Ash.' " He extended his right, mechanical hand to shake Deveraux's. The two shook and journeyed back out onto the promenade in front of the store.
"Hell, I like you Ash. Vant to get a drink mes amis?"
"Yeah, I think I would." Ash closed the storefront, and the two made their way down the promenade.