Season 3 Episode 2 - The Price of Pleasure

[Naira]

[Captain Oliver Winchester's Office - Red Phoenix]

Something felt off about borrowing the freighter captain's office to conduct business. Even though the man had graciously offered her use of the space during the trip, it felt wrong. In a way, she was invading his personal space. She felt uncomfortable about moving objects around on the desk or crowding the tabletop with the collection of PADDs she had been given to look over before they reached their destination.

Why Command chose to reach out to her and her crew, of all people, she kept asking herself. Was she given this mission because they thought her crew would be best suited to track down this alleged arms dealer and stop him from brokering a deal that could potentially shift the balance of power in a delicate region of space? Or were they asking her because they thought that being an Orion would somehow give her an in with these people? Surely, someone had to know what they were asking of her. Accepting the mission had been hard, but as she sat there in the office, glancing at the reflection in the mirror of a face she did not recognize as her own, had been much harder than she had anticipated.

There was no way that she could step into an Orion pleasure resort, supposedly ran by the Syndicate as Naira the Starfleet Captain. Captains were held in high esteem in Orion society, the rank came with pride and respect, that was if the captain were full Orion and preferably male, neither of which she was. Naira the halfbreed daughter of a runaway slave, doctor and member of Starfleet could never achieve that. They would spot her in a moment and it would ruin any chance they had of catching this guy.

So, with a little cosmetic surgery and some hair extensions, she was to assume another identity.

"I don't like it."

"You don't like what?"  she asked the voice on the other side of the transmission. She poked her cheek where mere hours ago she had had a slew of tiny dark green freckles, but now was blemish free.

"I don't like any of it. You didn't tell me you were leaving the station, where you are going or when you'll be back. The origin of your transmission appears to be from the Beta Quadrant, but you can't tell me what you're doing there."

"You know I can't share that information with you. I contacted you so you wouldn't worry. My mother is on the station looking after the children. If you must, you can contact her." Turning her attention away from the mirror for a moment, Naira focused her full attention on the Klingon on the screen before her. She didn't know why she was arguing with him, yet again. It seemed as if half their conversations ended in arguments nowadays.

He puffed up his chest, held it for a moment and exhaled in a deep sigh. "I don't like the straight hair, whenever you grab it, it just slips through your fingers."

She smiled, promised to contact him again on her way home and ended the transmission. The door chimed, reminding her that she had agreed to meet with one of her security officers prior to addressing the rest of the crew. She grabbed a robe that had been draped over the back of her borrowed chair and wrapped it around herself, covering the revealing outfit underneath.

"Enter," she called out as she stood up and rounded the corner of the desk. 

[TRell]

[Captains Office - Red Phoenix]

T'Rell smoothed her uniform tunic down and checked herself over, a private meeting with the Captain was always a big deal, more so when making such a request as she was, she stared over the bridge crew, catching the eye of any curious onlookers and giving a nervous smile, the PADD clutched in her paw containing everything she needed to say,

After what felt like hours, but was in reality less than a minute she was buzzed in, to her surprise her captain wasn't behind her desk, a place were she had found captains liked to be, nor she noted was the captain in uniform, on a Caitian vessel this would have been no surprise but among starfleet, the Caitian pushed it out of her mind and carried on, she crossed the floor of the office, halted a regulation step from the Orion woman, bought her heels together and saluted, she still wasn't sure on where the good captain stood on such formalities but it never hurt to be respectful.  She looked at the Caitian and smiled, the security officer waited a few seconds before she spoke.

"Captain, i have a formal request to a modification to my uniform under the Starfleet Uniform code" she said and taking a half step forward and held out the PADD, she took a calming breath as the Captain took it, she had practiced this speech in her quarters for some hours,

"As you are no doubt aware, i, as a Caitian have an extra appendage.." probably not the correct word she chided herself as her tail curled up over a shoulder "...and as such, the regular Starfleet uniforms, while generally comfortable, cause irritation and pain to the base of said tail" she paused, the wording wasn't how she had practiced but it got the point across.

"And i do understand that as a Caitian i already have a Starfleet wide dispensation on wearing boots except in cases were doing so would be dangerous at those times suitable coverings must be worn, as in engineering or away teams on hostile planets" she recited, it was part of Caitian pre-accademy training to learn that clause, "it is however at the Captains discretion to allow further modifications as with the case of then Ensign Worf of the Enterprise being given permission to wear his baldric, or Bajoarns to wear their ear rings..." she was starting to run her words together, the Captain had said nothing, she hadn't looked at the PADD yet, seemingly willing to let the Caitian finish,

"...i discovered while looking for a tailor, in an attempt to make the uniform more suitable, that there is a second Starfleet 'approved' uniform..." she indicated to the PADD "...a dress, a common option around the mid to late 23rd century, quite popular on the Enterprise of Lieutenant M'Ress..." she said invoking the name of a Caitian folk hero from the early Federation "...It's more modest than it looks, at least compared to usual Caitian dress, and caters to a tail a lot easier, also allows me more freedom of movement and can be worn under survival gear if needed"  she stared at the PADD until finally the Captian picked it up,

"For away missions of course ill keep a regular uniform ready, again if needed" she paused again, took another deep breath, and for the first time locked eyes with her Captain,

"Your thoughts Ma'am?"

[Leanna Mazal]

[Leanna and Flick's Quarters - Red Phoenix]

Leanna was stood in front of the ornate floor length mirror that had pride of place in the corner of her modest quarters aboard the Freighter, trying to put in the last contact lens without cursing. When she had been approached by Captain Naira about the mission Starfleet had given them, the Betazoid had immediately offered up the Phoenix for them to use, understanding the need for them to be undercover and not act suspicious especially as she knew of this alleged Arms Dealer through her crime syndicate connections from when she was married to Matthias.

Not that she knew at the time and since her ex's death, had learned some other truths including how he had been involved in the deal with the Ferengi that had almost killed her during her time as an escort. However wasn't going to let that bother her as it should as she had so much more to be thankful for and wanted to leave her past buried.

So since leaving the station on board the Phoenix, she had offered to share the quarters she kept with Flck and ensured the rest of the crew from Columbus would be comfortable and well catered for. She also knew how happy Oliver had been when she told him that they would be commandeering the Phoenix and was pretty sure his ego had swelled even more by the way he had acted since their arrival.

As for putting contact lenses in, it was something she wanted to do so she could hide the fact that she was Betazoid and that had also included dyeing her dark hair a lovely plum colour and having it cut shoulder length which she had been meaning to do for a while so this had given her the excuse to do it.

Once the final lens was successfully in, Lea stood back and allowed herself to adjust to the vivid green instead of the familiar black as well as make sure that her outfit was in place. She had gone for a backless, short and cleavage showing green and silver dress along with matching knee high boots. Not quite her usual form of attire but she felt comfortable and more importantly looking the part as if she had never left the dancer/escort business.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Lea then moved away from the mirror and began adding jewellery.

[Red Phoenix Bridge]

[NPC - Captain Oliver Winchester]

Oliver could be found sat in the slightly worn centre seat in the heart of the Freighter, moodily rubbing his chin as he surveyed his domain. This was more of a distraction as he thought about his office and hoping that he had managed to hide the incriminating items that he usually kept there although embarrassment at them being found would be more manageable than having Lea mercilessly teasing him about it.

No he was confident that he had as he knew how important it was for the Phoenix to have the honour of helping Starfleet once more and even though he couldn't brag about it, didn't mean he couldn't use it to his advantage especially with the ladies. Grinning to himself at the thought, he then spoke to S'Ree, his Caitian pilot.

" S'Ree take it easy with the engines as I want us to get there without Malia going crazy over her precious warp drive"He said half joking half serious as S'Ree acknowledged him with a slightly sarcastic response.

Then addressing the others on the Bridge. " Although being serious, we need to show Lea and by extension those from Starfleet, that we can handle this and be relied upon and I don't fancy getting a telling off from the Boss if we mess anything up".

Rex,Kaydaya and S'Ree responded in agreement before returning to their duties.

[Odelot]

SS Feldspar - Federation Transport - A Bit Ago

The Feldspar was not a pretty ship.  It had once been an ore hauler, transporting the raw materials which molecular replicators would later fashion into a variety of objects.  Many people mistakenly thought that replicators created objects from pure energy, but that wasn't the case.  They were remarkable devices, but they needed raw material to work from.  Hence, transporting matter to fill the matter-banks of trillions of replicators across the galaxy was still a necessity.

During the Dominion War, when the Feldspar had been first commissioned, ore hauling had been a lucrative business.  The various powers needed as much matter as they could get, as quickly as possible, to keep the industrial replicators of their war machines humming along uninterrupted.  Once the Dominion War was over, and the rebuilding had died down, conflicts tended to be smaller and more concentrated affairs.   That meant that fewer ore haulers were needed.

But people?  Well, people were always going somewhere.  Doing something.

So the owner of the Feldspar had converted her to transport people instead of rocks.

'Converted' might be too strong a word for it, though.  An enhanced environmental system had been installed, the cargo bay had been dusted off, and a bunch of chairs had been bolted to the deck.

No... the Feldspar was not a pretty ship.  Yet there was at least one passenger who did not mind it.

Odelot was admiring the brazen, fully exposed environmental system ductwork when a high-pitched voice spoke up beside him.

"Are you a Pakled?"

Odelot turned his head to find the source of the voice.  It was a half-Klingon child standing in the aisle between rows of chairs.  Odelot was not sure what the other half was.  Probably human.  Humans made babies with so many kinds of people.  Humans were very good at making babies.

"I am a Pakled," Odelot confirmed.  He could not tell how old the child was.  Klingons grew up fast.  Humans grew up slow.  Maybe... eight?

"I heard Pakled were stupid," the child declared.

Odelot glanced around, wondering where the parent of this child might be.  There was a Klingon man who had fallen asleep in a nearby chair, three seats down.  Maybe he was the parent.

Returning his attention to the child, Odelot said, "I heard that too.  I heard it a lot of times.  But it is not true.  Pakled are smart."

The child seemed skeptical, regarding Odelot with a critical eye.  "Kahless said a coward and a warrior may claim the same deeds."

Odelot stared at the child for a moment, not quite understanding the relevance of the statement.  "Okay," he said at last.  But though he did not understand what Kahless had to do with anything they were discussing, he could see that the child did not quite believe him.

"Do you want to hear how the old Pakled King used his smarts to go to the stars?" Odelot asked.

The child pondered this for a while, seemingly weighing whether any Pakled King could possibly have done anything comparable to Kahless the Unforgettable.  "Okay," the child said at last.

Odelot smiled.  He very much enjoyed this story.  "The Old Pakled King used to rule all of Pakled."

"Is Pakled the name of your planet?"

Odelot nodded, "Pakled is a planet.  Pakled is people.  Pakled is a star.  All are Pakled."

"How do you know if someone is talking about a planet, or people, or a star?"

"They look different," Odelot informed the child.

The child seemed momentarily confused, but Odelot proceeded with his story.

"One day, aliens came down to Pakled to talk to the Pakled King."

"What kind of aliens?  From where?"

"They were... smart aliens.  From the stars."

"But... what were they called?  And what was the King's name?"

Odelot sighed.  "This was a long time ago.  Nobody remembers the names."

"Oh," the child said, seemingly disappointed.

Odelot proceeded, undeterred.  "Well... the aliens wanted to put their trash on Pakled, and they wanted to pay the old King to take the trash.  The King wanted to see what kind of trash it was, and they showed him.  All kinds of things.  Things Pakled did not know about.  Pieces of machines.  And chemicals.  And glow-things. You call them... radioacive... things.  All of this they wanted to put on Pakled"

"When the King saw this, he said yes.  And so they started dumping trash on Pakled.  But for the Pakleds, these things were not trash.  They were the pieces of the alien ships.  Pieces of the alien tools.  Pieces of the alien power.  And the Pakled King told all of the Pakled to go into the trash, and see how it could be fixed.  And in only... in... many years, the first Pakled found how to put the pieces together.  To make a ship.  And then all other Pakled saw it.  And they did it, too.  And Pakled went into the stars."

"We got paid for taking the trash, but the trash made us better.  The old Pakled King was smart.  Smarter than the aliens.  He got money to make all the Pakleds go better."

"Good thing, because the Pakled planet is very dirty.  Many Pakled got away.  Only some live there now.  And now the rest live in the stars.  Different Pakled on different ships, all over.  Because the Old King was smart.  Pakled are smart.  We find things.  Things that make us go."

The child listened intently to this tale, and understanding seemed to register behind his eyes.  "So... the Pakled are like Klingons.  We took ships from the Hur'q, and learned to go to the stars.  But we had to fight for it."

Odelot held up a finger, "But.  See.  The Pakled did not have to fight.  We got paid.  And we got the ships, too.  The Pakled are smart."

The child blinked, "But where is the glory in that?!"

Odelot blinked back at the child, thinking.  Then he smiled.  It is in the ships!"

At that moment, an announcement came over the Feldspar's intercom, "ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS - WE ARE ON FINAL APPROACH TO STARBASE COLUMBUS.  PLEASE COLLECT YOUR BELONGINGS AND RETURN TO YOUR SEATS.  FOR OUR STARFLEET PASSENGERS, YOU WILL BE DISEMBARKING FIRST.  THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE."

The child sighed, "I better go.  It was... an honor... to meet you.  I think maybe... maybe Pakled are pretty smart."

Odelot beamed, then nodded to the child, "That is because you are smart, too."

The child returned to the seat beside his presumed parent, who was just waking up at the sound of the announcement.

The passenger compartment on the Feldspar was bereft of windows, so Odelot closed his eyes and imagined what the station must look like.  A glowing, sparkling giant in the forever black.

Soon, he would be there.

[Judith Eastman]

As Cadet Dihiq, Son of Kroka, Sciences
[Several Weeks Ago - Office of Judith Eastman, PhD, DA, DHS, MS, CSO of USS Tempest]

"I'm not kidding," Judy said. The hardass side of her was very much in play.
"The Starbase Columbus, ma'am? Why?" Dihiq asked. He'd had some horrid experiences there in the past.
"I thought you liked it there," Judy said mock-defensively but honestly. "In any case, the exchange paperwork is signed, so you're going. You should be back by the shakedown."
"O-O-O-OK," Dihiq conceded.
"Your transport leaves from LaGuardia in the morning," Judy stated. She shuddered a little as she mentioned that horrible, crowded spaceport in Queens. "Get packing."
"Understood, ma'am," Dihiq acknowledged but didn't move.
"Do it now," Judy dismissed him, and he finally left.

[Present - Mess Hall, Red Phoenix]

Dihiq shotgunned another can of Bud Light. If Eastman was here to see him drinking such an uncivilized beer in such a barbaric manner, she'd surely puke. Perhaps that's what made it so enjoyable. That, and the drinking helped him forget the circumstances he was currently in. After all the Orions he'd met, infiltrating an Orion resort made him cringe.

He got by with a little help from his beer.

[Odelot]

Starbase Columbus - Intake - A Bit Ago

Odelot leaned back, eyes wide.

"It is so BIG!  And BUSY!  Like Starbase One!"

The security crewman cleared his throat, holding out his hand.

Odelot returned his attention to the man, and shifted his luggage so that he could produce his PADD.  The crewman accepted the PADD and studied it, then tapped it to his own PADD, then pressed a few spots.  Finally, he handed Odelot's PADD back and held out his own PADD.

"Thank you, Crewman Odelot.  Just press your digit there, please."

Odelot did so.  The finger-press was not for a fingerprint.  Not all species had unique fingerprints.  Or even fingers, really.  But the PADD would collect other biometric data during the contact which would positively identify an arrival and register them in the system.

"Okay," the security crewman said, "Welcome to Columbus.  Your PADD should now be updated with a map of the station, including a wayfinder that will point you to any destination you name.  This is indeed a big place. Citadel class.  Nearly seven kilometers across.  You're not slated for duty until tomorrow, according to my records.  So might as well find your bunk, unload your things, and get the lay of the land.  I've been here for three months, myself, and still haven't seen everything."

Odelot had his 'Wow' face on as he took his PADD.

"Okay.  I will go put my things away.  Then I will see all the things.  It will not take Odelot three months."

The security crewman chuckled, "Yeah, well, good luck."

Odelot smiled at the man, and then gallumphed off into the vastness of the station proper.

Within an hour, he had found his assigned enlisted quarters.  A Tellarite named Gork was his roommate.  He snorted a lot, and called Odelot stupid.  Odelot remembered that Tellarites liked to be called names.  He called Gork ugly.

Gork snorted and smiled.

They would be friends.

Odelot spent much of the day exploring the station.  There were so many things to see.  So many places to go.

Then a message came across his PADD.

There was a mission.

There were many thousands of enlisted personnel on Columbus.  But he had been chosen.

Odelot smiled.   It was a good beginning.

**************** PRESENT DAY *******************
Mess Hall - Red Phoenix

Odelot was no longer dressed in his uniform, but rather wore the utility overalls that many Pakled could be found wearing across the galaxy.  It was a simple, drab, beige, functional outfit.

He plopped into a chair next to Dihiq, grinning as he set down a platter of... something... covered in gravy.  And a giant mug of... something blue.

"Hello!  I am Odelot.  I like this ship."

[Aryn Corliss]

[Personal Quarters - Red Phoenix]

Alec and Aryn were sharing a room for the first time in more than ten years, but as it consisted of a pair of small bunks, the chances of any hijinks was minimal.

Aryn was changing out of her uniform and putting on a tighter-than-she-was-comfortable-with, poison green dress and high-heeled shoes and applying cosmetics to her face.

Alec was unpacking his belongings and checking he had everything he wanted in his personal medical bag. He'd help out in the medical bay if his presence would be welcome, but Aryn was planning to check with the captain to see if she would allow him to come along to the resort to be their medical support. Alec wasn't current on his Starfleet training, but he certainly hadn't forgotten everything. He could remain in the background as Aryn's companion unless his medical expertise was required.

Aryn spun in front of the room's mirror and turned to face Alec. What do you think? she asked.

Alec shrugged noncommittally. He hated it, in fact, but he wouldn't say so in such strong terms. It's...okay. But it's not you. He smiled at her gently to take any sting out of his words. You always looked best in long, flowing, elegant dresses.

Aryn looked down and pulled a face. I agree with you, but we're supposed to be disguising ourselves, at least some. You're not familiar with this place, are you?

Not that I recall. We tended to go to quieter places most of the time. Risa once, of course, when we got married. But not usually places like this.

Aryn sighed. Well, I'll go speak to the captain about you coming along. Then you can get into something just as uncomfortable! She flounced out the door as she teased him.

Don't think I didn't notice that you've connived to get us staying in the same room, Alec called after her with a laugh.

Aryn giggled as she went down the corridor.

[Captain's Office]

Tracking down Naira was but a moment's work, and Aryn stood outside the office of the freighter's captain, pressing the door chime. She pulled the dress down again while she waited for a reply, uncomfortably aware of the bareness of her legs and the looks she was getting.

[Derek Black]

[Red Phoenix - Mess]

Returning to Columbus without Knox hadn't been easy, but both of them had eventually agreed it was for the best. While her leave of absence from Starfleet had no firm end date, a testament to how highly in regard she was held, Derek still had patients who needed him. The interim doctors filling in from his former department were more than capable, but Derek couldn't ask them to give up any more of their spare time. So while Kath stayed behind on Trill, he had returned a few weeks ago to find his clinic in impeccable order. Catching up with his patients and their progress took up much of his days and nights since.

It was with some surprise when Naira had asked him to join this mission, though he didn't ask any questions. Columbus' medical staff were often shorthanded and Derek owed them anyways. He reckoned it would be nice being on a starship again after so long first on a Starbase and then a planet. He hasn't reckoned it being on a freighter. Still, this was a nice change of scenery, having a passable coffee in the mess and watching two youngsters, still green behind the ears, chatting a few tables over.

[Felicity Ellis]

[En Route to Mess Hall, Mess Hall - Red Phoenix]

The reflection had been jarring. Under normal circumstances outfits like the ones the crew were currently wearing would draw all kinds of attention, but on this mission, not wearing them would be what caused the problem. She was dressed in black, of course, Felicity almost always preferred black, but that's really where any of her usual style ended. She wore a sleeveless black bodysuit that laced up the sides, criss-crossing ribbons of silk stark against the bare skin on display. Her pants were skintight and made of some sort of lightweight leather, that she had to admit was deceptively comfortable. The best part though - the boots. They were just under knee-height, and were almost seamless against her legs, but nicest of all was their distinct lack of a heel. They were gloriously flat. She would sacrifice a couple of inches of height she thought, in exchange for ease of moment. They were going undercover as guests, but she might want to do a little 'business' too, and that would entail being able to walk, or run, in a straight line.

She felt like she was prowling the Phoenix's slender corridors. All she was really missing was a tail and a pair of ears, and she could have been a fancy dress cat on her way to the Station's just passed Halloween party. Y'know, the one you never actually made it to. With her eyes heavily lined and her hair loose, she thought the image was not dissimilar to what she'd seen when she'd peered in that alternate mirror, all those months ago. That in itself was disturbing, but perhaps there was something of her other self that she could draw upon to help with their current mission.

Felicity followed the next bend and found herself just outside the Mess. She didn't know Leanna's freighter as well as she knew the Gibson, but she'd visited once before to meet her friend upon her return from a recent trip to Risa. She rather liked the Red Phoenix; mostly because it hadn't taken all that long to memorise its layout. She stepped surely into the small social area, eyes automatically scanning for crew. She wouldn't have intruded upon them had they been aboard the Gibbie, but she wanted to be sure that all were present, accounted for, and ready for the Captain's upcoming briefing.

She came to a full stop when she spied him. Sitting at a table, can of beer in front of him, was Dihiq. Dihiq the crying Klingon was on the Red Phoenix.

How? How had she not heard about this latest addition? Who had signed off on that? And were they quite mad?

She was tempted to turn on her heel and march right back out of there. Away from that strange individual whose last visit had occurred right before they'd all nearly died from a nanovirus. Maybe Dihiq was a bad omen. The unbalanced, living portent of the Columbus. Realising how ridiculous she was being, and wholly unlike any XO she'd ever met, Felicity mentally shook herself and started to move again. Curiosity, as usual, was getting the better of her.

"Mr. Dihiq," she greeted as she stopped in front of his table, bestowing a small smile upon him and his companion before continuing, "What brings you here?" She was about to ask him if he'd come for more therapy, when she remembered that historically he did not react well to being asked more than one question at a time. Instead she turned her attention to the individual sharing Dihiq's table, who was dressed in overalls and eating something that looked pretty unappetising. "I don't believe we've met. Felicity Ellis." She held out her hand in greeting.

[Leanna Mazal]

[Mess Hall - Red Phoenix]

After adding then disregarding some of the jewellery in favour of keeping it simple with her favourite silver bracelets. There was one in particular that almost snaked up her arm and contained several emeralds that almost matched the new colour of her eyes. Happy with the effect on her olive skin, the Betazoid then left her now shared quarters and decided to head to the Mess as she knew that there would be a briefing soon regarding their mission and figured that was the best place to hold it rather than the cargo hold.

As she walked, Lea then contacted the Bridge and told Oliver where she would be and allowed herself a moment or two to make the most of her journey. She always enjoyed being on the Freighter and this time was no different although it did give her a sense of accomplishment and pride at how far they had come since she got it back from Matthias and it felt good that it was all hers now.

A few minutes later and Lea entered the modest sized Mess, looking around she soon spotted Flick and approved of her outfit although for a second was reminded of the other universe and grinned. It appeared that her best friend was speaking to two people she hadn't seen before and no doubt they were new members of the crew and of course she would introduce herself to them sooner rather than later.

However at the sight of another familiar face, one that had been missed, she smiled and went over to him.

" Well hello Stranger, its good to see you again".

[Naira]

[Captains Office - Red Phoenix]

T'Rell smoothed her uniform tunic down and checked herself over, a private meeting with the Captain was always a big deal, more so when making such a request as she was, she stared over the bridge crew, catching the eye of any curious onlookers and giving a nervous smile, the PADD clutched in her paw containing everything she needed to say,

After what felt like hours, but was in reality less than a minute she was buzzed in, to her surprise her captain wasn't behind her desk, a place were she had found captains liked to be, nor she noted was the captain in uniform, on a Caitian vessel this would have been no surprise but among starfleet, the Caitian pushed it out of her mind and carried on, she crossed the floor of the office, halted a regulation step from the Orion woman, bought her heels together and saluted, she still wasn't sure on where the good captain stood on such formalities but it never hurt to be respectful.  She looked at the Caitian and smiled, the security officer waited a few seconds before she spoke.

"Captain, i have a formal request to a modification to my uniform under the Starfleet Uniform code" she said and taking a half step forward and held out the PADD, she took a calming breath as the Captain took it, she had practiced this speech in her quarters for some hours,

"As you are no doubt aware, i, as a Caitian have an extra appendage.." probably not the correct word she chided herself as her tail curled up over a shoulder "...and as such, the regular Starfleet uniforms, while generally comfortable, cause irritation and pain to the base of said tail" she paused, the wording wasn't how she had practiced but it got the point across.

"And i do understand that as a Caitian i already have a Starfleet wide dispensation on wearing boots except in cases were doing so would be dangerous at those times suitable coverings must be worn, as in engineering or away teams on hostile planets" she recited, it was part of Caitian pre-accademy training to learn that clause, "it is however at the Captains discretion to allow further modifications as with the case of then Ensign Worf of the Enterprise being given permission to wear his baldric, or Bajoarns to wear their ear rings..." she was starting to run her words together, the Captain had said nothing, she hadn't looked at the PADD yet, seemingly willing to let the Caitian finish,

"...i discovered while looking for a tailor, in an attempt to make the uniform more suitable, that there is a second Starfleet 'approved' uniform..." she indicated to the PADD "...a dress, a common option around the mid to late 23rd century, quite popular on the Enterprise of Lieutenant M'Ress..." she said invoking the name of a Caitian folk hero from the early Federation "...It's more modest than it looks, at least compared to usual Caitian dress, and caters to a tail a lot easier, also allows me more freedom of movement and can be worn under survival gear if needed"  she stared at the PADD until finally the Captian picked it up,

"For away missions of course ill keep a regular uniform ready, again if needed" she paused again, took another deep breath, and for the first time locked eyes with her Captain,

"Your thoughts Ma'am?"

[Captain's Office - Red Phoenix]

Naira remained silent as she listened to the security officer continue on with what sounded like a prepared speech. At the time, she had had no idea why the Caitian had asked for a private meeting. She had incorrectly assumed that the woman had wanted to discuss possible concerns over the safety of the crew going into this mission, the fact that they were involving more than a few civilians, something she herself was hesitant to do, or that most of their party would not be permitted to carry any sort of weapon.

The longer she listened, she realized that was not the case. Was the security officer really requesting permission to wear a different uniform? She let out a small chuckle and glanced down at the PADD in her hand for a quick second. Perhaps the officer was under the impression that she had followed in the rigid practices of her last few predecessors.

"Lieutenant, if wearing this alternative uniform will make you feel more comfortable while going about your duties, then please feel free to make the switch. I am far more concerned with the safety and wellbeing of my crew, so if you think you can carry out your duties in this other uniform, you have my permission to wear it."

She handed the Caitian back the PADD she had been given. "And in the future, you don't need to request such a formal meeting with me to discuss such things, a simple message would have been fine."

She leaned back against the desk, crossing one leg over the other as she perched herself along the edge. "For now though, you should consider changing into some comfortable civilian clothing. We should be landing soon and we don't want to be seen in uniform if we want to keep up our cover. If you can conceal a phaser or other weapon on yourself, I'd advise doing so, we don't know what we will face down though and I'd feel better knowing that a few of us could defend the rest in an emergency."

[Captain's Office]

Tracking down Naira was but a moment's work, and Aryn stood outside the office of the freighter's captain, pressing the door chime. She pulled the dress down again while she waited for a reply, uncomfortably aware of the bareness of her legs and the looks she was getting.

"If you'll excuse me," she spoke to the Caitian at the sound of the door chime. "It sounds as if I have more work to do before we land."

"Enter," she called out.

[Judith Eastman]

Cadet Dihiq, Son of Kroka

**************** PRESENT DAY *******************

Mess Hall - Red Phoenix

Odelot was no longer dressed in his uniform, but rather wore the utility overalls that many Pakled could be found wearing across the galaxy.  It was a simple, drab, beige, functional outfit.

He plopped into a chair next to Dihiq, grinning as he set down a platter of... something... covered in gravy.  And a giant mug of... something blue.

"Hello!  I am Odelot.  I like this ship."[/size]

[Mess Hall - now]

Dihiq turned his head to look at the little fellow next to him. Was he... a Pakled? Most people thought of Pakleds as idiots, and Dihiq might even have been naturally inclined to do so, but he knew all too well now what it was like for the Pakleds; the Wicked Witch of the Eastman thought of him the same way normal people thought of Odelot's people.

"H-hi," Dihiq said as he put down his empty, mutilated beer. "I'm Dihiq. I guess I like it here too."
He didn't really like it, but he liked it better than the Tempest. There was no witch, no corgis, no Baldwin, no Jada and her scary apple eating habits, and best of all, he hadn't seen anyone that knew him yet.

Little did he know...

[En Route to Mess Hall, Mess Hall - Red Phoenix]

The reflection had been jarring. Under normal circumstances outfits like the ones the crew were currently wearing would draw all kinds of attention, but on this mission, not wearing them would be what caused the problem. She was dressed in black, of course, Felicity almost always preferred black, but that's really where any of her usual style ended. She wore a sleeveless black bodysuit that laced up the sides, criss-crossing ribbons of silk stark against the bare skin on display. Her pants were skintight and made of some sort of lightweight leather, that she had to admit was deceptively comfortable. The best part though - the boots. They were just under knee-height, and were almost seamless against her legs, but nicest of all was their distinct lack of a heel. They were gloriously flat. She would sacrifice a couple of inches of height she thought, in exchange for ease of moment. They were going undercover as guests, but she might want to do a little 'business' too, and that would entail being able to walk, or run, in a straight line.

She felt like she was prowling the Phoenix's slender corridors. All she was really missing was a tail and a pair of ears, and she could have been a fancy dress cat on her way to the Station's just passed Halloween party. Y'know, the one you never actually made it to. With her eyes heavily lined and her hair loose, she thought the image was not dissimilar to what she'd seen when she'd peered in that alternate mirror, all those months ago. That in itself was disturbing, but perhaps there was something of her other self that she could draw upon to help with their current mission.

Felicity followed the next bend and found herself just outside the Mess. She didn't know Leanna's freighter as well as she knew the Gibson, but she'd visited once before to meet her friend upon her return from a recent trip to Risa. She rather liked the Red Phoenix; mostly because it hadn't taken all that long to memorise its layout. She stepped surely into the small social area, eyes automatically scanning for crew. She wouldn't have intruded upon them had they been aboard the Gibbie, but she wanted to be sure that all were present, accounted for, and ready for the Captain's upcoming briefing.

She came to a full stop when she spied him. Sitting at a table, can of beer in front of him, was Dihiq. Dihiq the crying Klingon was on the Red Phoenix.

How? How had she not heard about this latest addition? Who had signed off on that? And were they quite mad?

She was tempted to turn on her heel and march right back out of there. Away from that strange individual whose last visit had occurred right before they'd all nearly died from a nanovirus. Maybe Dihiq was a bad omen. The unbalanced, living portent of the Columbus. Realising how ridiculous she was being, and wholly unlike any XO she'd ever met, Felicity mentally shook herself and started to move again. Curiosity, as usual, was getting the better of her.

"Mr. Dihiq," she greeted as she stopped in front of his table, bestowing a small smile upon him and his companion before continuing, "What brings you here?" She was about to ask him if he'd come for more therapy, when she remembered that historically he did not react well to being asked more than one question at a time. Instead she turned her attention to the individual sharing Dihiq's table, who was dressed in overalls and eating something that looked pretty unappetising. "I don't believe we've met. Felicity Ellis." She held out her hand in greeting.

[Earlier, Eastman Family Vacation Home, East Hampton, New York, Earth]

At last, Judy got to that memo about Dihiq's therapy session, and began to hammer out a reply. The glasses on her nose slipped down, and had to be pushed back up, several times in the process.

TO: Lieutenant Commander Ellis, Starbase Columbus,

To begin, I would like to thank you for taking the time to conduct a psychological evaluation of Cadet Dihiq. Of all the 200 officers and NCOs in my department, he is perhaps the most perplexing. He also makes tedious company, so kudos to you for putting up with him!
Now, with regard to your conclusions, I do agree in part. As far as I can discern, the Cadet suffers from a variety of complexes and neuroses, which fundamentally cripple his ability to function not only as an officer, but as a person. He is stammering, unreliable, and at times absurd in his shortcomings.
However, I do not believe that the Tempest in particular aggravates the Cadet. I try to maintain a friendly environment among my officers, one more akin to an academic faculty than a military unit. In fact, I even bake my subordinates cookies several times a week. Unless the Cadet is afraid of weight gain, I fail to see how this makes him any worse.
However, as I would love to be proven wrong, I have arranged for Mr. Dihiq to serve for a few weeks on the Starbase Columbus, as part of an exchange program. If you can make a functional officer of him, I will be utterly amazed.

Regards,
Professor Emerita, Lieutenant Judy Eastman, PhD, DA, DHS, MS
Sure, she ignored the first two weeks of Dihiq's tenure under her, but that was a different era. She had a different position then, a different rank, even a different hairdo. Surely that had nothing to do with Dihiq's present incompetence.

[Mess Hall, Present]
Dihiq was stunned into momentary silence by seeing the evil counselor from before.
"Hi," he said at last, and longed for the smell of coffee.

[Odelot]

Red Phoenix - Mess Hall

Odelot turned his head to regard the woman who'd sauntered up beside him and his seatmate.  She seemed to be a human, as near as he could tell.  She was very skinny, like most humans.  But she had all the good bumps in all the good places.

She wore black clothes that were sometimes there, and sometimes not there, with lace-tie-things crisscrossing back and forth.  When the clothes were there, they were very close to her body, like something you could paint onto her.  When the clothes were not there, they showed her skin in a way that made Odelot's eyes want to stay looking for a long time.  Maybe too long.   Her boots were tall, but they were also flat.  Flat boots were smart, because you could run without falling down.  This woman looked good.  But she also looked smart.

"Hello Felicity Ellis!" Odelot nearly shouted the greeting, extending his sausage-fingered hand to swallow hers, and pump it enthusiastically in the way humans liked.   Had he read his assignment briefing materials in detail, he might have recognized this woman as an important superior officer.  However, Odelot was the sort of person to skim over the details of paperwork and try to get right to the point of the things.  As such, he had no idea who this woman was.  Other than 'Felicity Ellis.'

"I am Odelot.  You are very pretty, Felicity Ellis!"

He finally released her hand from his crushing grip, and then pointed at another available seat beside them.
"Sit here and eat. And drink.  With us.  I am eating brown food and blue drink.  Brown and Blue are my favorite colors.  You can have some of mine.  I think it is called Meatloaf.  With Extra Gravy.  I got Extra Gravy because it had more brown.  There was a red tomato-sauce one, but I like brown better.  The drink is Blueberry.  They smell good, huh?"

He picked up his silverware and held out a fork in his plump fist, apparently intending to hand it to her rather than stab her with it... though he seemed to think the motions for both purposes were identical.

"You can have my fork.  I will use the spoon.  It is soft.  We will not need a knife."

You could impress girls by sharing.  His father had taught him that.

[TRell]

[Captain's Office - Red Phoenix]

She leaned back against the desk, crossing one leg over the other as she perched herself along the edge. "For now though, you should consider changing into some comfortable civilian clothing. We should be landing soon and we don't want to be seen in uniform if we want to keep up our cover. If you can conceal a phaser or other weapon on yourself, I'd advise doing so, we don't know what we will face down though and I'd feel better knowing that a few of us could defend the rest in an emergency."

"If you'll excuse me," she spoke to the Caitian at the sound of the door chime. "It sounds as if I have more work to do before we land."

"Enter," she called out.

T'Rell nodded, "The PADD also contains my evaluation of the ship and crew and my recommendations for the mission" with that she saluted and left, give Corliss a grin as she did so, the door slide to a close behind her and she stopped as she crossed the bridge taking a few seconds to look over the pilot, finding a Caitian on a freighter was not uncommon, but she herself hadn't met one of her kind since she left the academy and she vowed to at least say hi before things inevitably went pear shaped.

[Private quaters - Red Phoenix]

She had felt uncomfortable asking for a private cabin on a ship were room was at a premium, but her peoples rituals in off duty matters were highly private, shared only with ones closest loved ones.  she had packed light and carefully, and shedding her uniform stowed it in a secret compartment in her footlocker, she didn't entirely trust the crew of the freighter and a staff fleet uniform could be used as proof to blow their cover.  she had after much agonising foregone the coveralls of a freighter crew knowing that such a disguise would make it difficult to openly carry a weapon, not that she really needed to though, now she had got over the regular Caitian squeamishness of using her claws and teeth, a phaser was always useful.

With care she dressed, obstenably in her homeworlds Militia uniform trousers and undershirt in a dark blue camo common to her regions regiment, behind one ear she pinned her leather and feathered talisman, that hung low to her shoulder, the blue in the feathers matching with the blue of the uniform, she had removed the unit patches and awards and replaced them with less subtle markings and 'kill counts'.  To finish the look of a Caitian mercenary she strapped a disruptor pistol, taken from an Orion pirate and kept in stations Armoury, to her hip.  She looked at herself in the rooms mirror and bit her lip, she looked the part, but could she fool anyone.  She sighed until this was over she was no longer T'Rell the security officer, she was T'Rell Caitian Mercenary and body guard.  she shrugged and turned away, time to seek out the Mess hall, she hadn't eaten for some time.

[Mess Hall]

By the time she found the mess hall she had forced herself to stop walking as a Starfleet officer and instead adopted the stalk of a hunter, the kind if stalk she had seen at the space docks from the men her Father would tell her to avoid, but who he had to deal with, it did remind her a little to much of how the Kzinti walked, but that couldn't be helped.  She stalked into the Hall and joined the chow line, surprised to find a fairly good range of choices, even meat prepared the way Caitians preferred, no doubt at the insistence of the pilot, since she was no longer T'Rell the security officer, at least for a little while she decided it best to forgo the Vegetarian thing and took two servings, her tray in hand she searched the Mess hall for a familiar face, settling on Flick who was currently sharing a table with a Klingon and Pakled of all species, she stalked across towards them,

"Felicity, care for some company?" she smiled politely at the pair, ensuring once again that she didn't bare her teeth.

[Volskene]

[Mess Hall - Red Phoenix]

Volskene stood within the confines of the small galley on this rather run-down old freighter, staring out of one the portholes. The Tholian had been working overtime to submit some solutions to a rather complex set of subspace manifold equations, as could be evidenced by the PADD clutched in one of his besuited limbs. As the crystalline alien pondered, he let his thoughtspace weave idle lines of thinking. Long voyages like this helped him to attune himself with the arcane subjects he desired to grasp, as well as gave him the possibility to commune with his people (albeit at distance). It was quite a sharp contrast to the static of the Starbase.

As a civilian, he had most likely not received all of the details of this mission, but any chance to flex his intellect once more was welcomed, ironic given the xenophobic character of his people. And it was that particular aspect which had kept him confined to quarters (locked in his environmental suit, no less; this garbage scow had nowhere near the sophisticated climate control of other ships and installations he'd ventured on). In fact, this was the first time that the Tholian had even emerged into the public spaces of the ship.

All Volskene knew was that they were headed towards a planet, for a mission of vital importance that could make use of his superior skills. As long as the humanoids weren't too bothersome, he felt he could do it...