Nicole awoke and checked her message terminal to see if any of her job applications had resulted in anything substantial. She sighed--as usual, nothing for a person of her abilities. Overqualified for this, underqualified for that, not the right papers or credentials...it was all the same.
Just before she switched off the terminal another message flashed up:
OUR COMPANY IS SEEKING SOMEONE OF YOUR TALENTS FOR DISCREET, HIGH YIELD SHIPPING ASSIGNMENTS. WILL PROVIDE SHIP AND ALL OPERATING EXPENSES. PLEASE REPORT TO SUITE 1507, COMMERCE SECTION, AT 1630 HOURS TODAY FOR INTERVIEW.
Probably a scam, she thought, but she checked the address. It was from the Yukon Plastics Company, a manufacturing and replication concern set up on New Canada's outermost moon. Rumor had it that Colonel Tarik, the Marine commander, had bought the moon with his substantial personal fortune and set up the company. Someone like Tarik wouldn't be involved in a scam, but then again who says it's really him? she thought. Still, with no other prospects, she decided she'd go to the interview after work.
The more she worked the docks, the more intrigued by the message she became. It obviously wasn't a pirate operation--pirates were pirates mainly because they couldn't meet their operating expenses with legitimate cargoes. Perhaps the Nausicaan refugees were starting a shipping line with the freighters that had brought the refugees to New Canada. It wouldn't be a stretch, and even a Nausicaan paycheck looked good right now. More than that, she could finally get guild certification as a pilot!
At 1600 her foreman came to her. "I'm sorry, Nicole, but we're going to have to work you an extra half-shift. You'll get time and a half for it, though. Report to Bay 0239 and work the containers coming off the SS Yokohama- highly perishable cargo, and it's on Customs cargo control. We'll need to open every container for inspection."
Nicole sighed. The opportunity with Yukon Plastics wasn't guaranteed; this was. Sullenly she headed to the cargo bay to continue her work. When she got there, the Customs inspector had a message for her.
"Your foreman wanted me to tell you that you won't be needed here. He was able to get three other people to come in to assist with the exam. He'll make up the lost overtime to you later in the week."
"Thank you," she said. It was 1610, and she didn't have time to change for the interview. Hopefully they'll understand, she thought as she decided to value promptness over appearance.
The office was a non-descript office in a bank of other non-descript offices housing attorneys, accountants, import brokers, and a few businesses Nicole couldn't begin to describe. There was no name on the door, which opened as she came to it.
Inside, a G'kar female sat at the desk. "You are Nicole Shea," she said, making a statement rather than asking a question.
"Yes, I am. I have an appointment for--"
"We know. You may proceed," the G'kar said. Nicole didn't see the disruptor pistol the receptionist held under the desk as she passed into the inner office.
Inside was Colonel Tarik, wearing Vulcan robes complete with a cowl. "I apologize for all the subterfuge, Ms. Shea. Welcome to the Yukon Plastics Company!" he said, extending his hand.
"I...I don't understand..."
"Certain of my officers have had occasion to deal with you with regard to a rather unpleasant situation on the station," Tarik said. "I've also heard excellent reports of your performance when the first refugees arrived on the station. Were you so inclined, I'd ask you to enlist."
"No offense, Colonel, but the military life has never been for me."
"None taken--and here, you may address me as Tarik. This is strictly a civilian operation. I'm told that you want a position as a shuttle pilot."
"Yes, sir. I've got more than enough time in the cockpit to qualify. It's just a matter of sitting for the guild exams."
"And without Starfleet backing you, there's no way you could possibly afford certification as a dockworker," Tarik finished. "What if I were to tell you that my organization is prepared to not only get you in to sit for the next guild exam, but also to extend you a contract--even supply you a ship?"
"I'd have to see it to believe it," Nicole said. "I've been burned too many times before."
Tarik handed her a PADD with the test date--at the end of next week--and a contract. Another person, a Vulcan, appeared from another office. "This is my legal representative, Sotok. He will notarize and file the contract on Vulcan and Bajor once you've signed it."
"Bajor?"
"The ship you'll be piloting is of Bajoran registry. The registry's legitimate; we've decided to keep it out of convenience." Tarik had only gotten resolution from the Judge Advocate General on Lt. Shar's intestate estate. His family had not claimed the ship, so Starfleet claimed it as salvage. Tarik's company had bought it at a bargain price.
"You say legitimate. That implies that there may be aspects of this job that are, shall we say, illgetimate?" Nicole asked.
Tarik grinned. "Sometimes in order to preserve the intent of the law we must violate the letter of the law. I can assure you that you will not be running controlled substances, slaves, pornography, or any other contraband."
The deal sounded more than a little shady. But certification would go a long way toward improving her status in life, and Vulcans on the whole never aided or abetted any criminal activity. Almost without thinking, she signed the contract. Tarik countersigned it, and Sotok completed the jurat and transmitted the contract to the appropriate offices.
"Welcome aboard, Ms. Shea. You're now an employee of Yukon Plastics Company--and an instrument in the liberation of this sector!" Tarik said, extending his hand once again.
Nicole shook it. "How do you mean, sir?"
"Now that you're on board, I can share certain details of our operation with you. The Company is the single largest employer of Nausicaan refugees in Federation space. We provide employment, succor, and a sense of dignity to people who've lost everything.
"But more than that, the Company serves a larger purpose, as a funnel for funds to an organization known as the La'kon Legion. The Legion is an all volunteer force based on an asteroid called Thermopylae a few parsecs from here. It's mainly G'kar but a few other races--including Nausicaans and humans--have signed on. They've been interdicting Mulluran patrols which stray a little too far from their borders, and eventually we plan on taking the war deeper into their territory. Over the past year the Legion has liberated nearly 5,000 slaves from the Mulluran slave trafficking operation."
Nicole looked astounded. She'd heard rumors of strange goings-on in the asteroid field Tarik mentioned, but had no idea that the Colonel was involved -or that the operation was as large as he now revealed. "Am I part of this Legion?" she asked.
"Not per se. I'm using you as a courier between New Canada, Yukon, Thermopylae, and a few other places. You won't be going into combat except as necessary to defend your ship. If you have the opportunity to take on tramp contracts, by all means do so--but Company business takes priority. I hired you because of your discretion and skill. I hope I won't be disappointed."
This got better as it went! "I signed a contract; I stick to my contracts, sir."
"Just keep in mind that unless otherwise stated Company business is confidential. If anyone asks what you do for a living, you run cargo for Yukon Plastics."
"Understood," Nicole said. She'd been involved in more than enough underground projects to know to keep her mouth shut. Besides, if I crossed this man in any particular I'm likely to end up 'disappeared' someplace.
"Very good. Welcome aboard. Check your account and you'll find we've given you an advance on your first assignment. You'll be paid by cargo load just like any other cargo hauler, and your first cargo will be awaiting you in three days' time."
"Thank you, sir. You won't be disappointed."
"Get some dinner and some rest. I'll forward the technical specifications for your ship to your terminal. Happy studying!" Tarik said.
Nicole left, still stunned. She'd practically been made master of her own vessel and brought in on what was evidently a Federation black op!
But the money was good...