Throughout the quadrant, there are pockets of unrest and domains that sit just beyond Federation jurisdiction. These tend to be breeding grounds for the sort of fodder that are attracted to the high risk, high reward life raiders have to offer.  In one dubious area, a dark asteroid dubbed ‘The ‘Black Rock of Fortune’ is run by a Ferengi corporation. It is here that Starfleet Intelligence believes is the best place for their operatives to begin their covert mission.

Raiding activities near the Cardasian boarder increased to alarming levels. Instead of sending a task force to stomp around, Starfleet has opted to send an undercover team to attempt to infiltrate the group. However a few rumors suggested another group would work the other side of the border.

Just a few weeks ago, R’Tor was flying a desk with the JAG, but a promotion and orders from the admiralty placed him in charge of a ship and a crew that had a few rough edges.

The orders also required some major alterations.

OBSCURE REFLECTION

With his arms outstretched, R’Tor examined the smooth tan skin of his hands. Someone handed him a mirror and he gasped in shock of seeing his own  eyes looking back at him with an unfamiliar face. It was almost too much for R’Tor to handle. Once a young black and white Caitain, R’Tor looked  like a middle aged Talarian.

He was a bit shaky as he stood up, but eventually he got his bearings.

The starbase commander and two security officers escorted him to the docking bay.   The Dealer’s Gambit, while it looked like a dilapidated civilian transport, it was actually an Aquarius Class starship in disguise. Advanced sensors, propulsion and defenses made up this little craft.

THE WELCOMING

As R’Tor stepped onto the bridge to meet his team of officers, also in disguise. His XO, CMD Russell, with the visage of a dower Klingon and his Chief Engineer, Colt was sporting the antennas and blue complexion of an Andorian. The remainder of the crew required little to no cosmetic enhancements, as most were not stepping off the ship during this mission.

“You look thinner sir.” Colt smirked.

R’Tor grinned and responded, “Keep it up chief and I’ll make sure they make those antenna permanent.” Light laughter floated throughout the bridge.

As R’Tor made his way to the center of the room, he made an announcement.  “From this point onward, my name is Atel Ranor.” He look around the room to make sure he caught everyone’s attention. “Ranor.” He emphasized.

His XO, gave a nod and shouted, “Ranor.” And he encouraged the others to join in. Around the small bridge nods of agreement and the soft echos of the name resonated, till finally everyone on the bridge was chanting. “Ranor, Ranor, Ranor.”

“Alright, alright.” R’Tor/Ranor, became serious, “That’s enough.” And he took a seat in the command chair and had an odd sensation. He did not have to worry about where his tail would go, because his tail had been surgically removed and placed into stasis.

R’Tor/Ranor felt ill at ease without it, but the doctors assured him the could reattach it. He turned his focus to the mission.

“Helm, set a course for Cardassian space.” Ranor stated as he sat back in the chair. He had a lot to get use to in a short amount of time.  A new look, a new name, not to mention a whole team.  There was a lot to get use to, but he was determined to accomplish the mission.  After the ship cleared space dock, there was a bright flash from the nacelles and soon the ship was disappearing into the vastness of space, leaving behind just a flicker of light.

WEEKS LATER

For the past three weeks, Ranor had managed to pass himself off  as a smuggler. He made contacts with a few rouges who seem determined to unbalance the peace in key sectors of the Alpha Quadrant. This came as no surprise as dissident groups, similar to the Maquis tended to rise and fall quickly in these lawless areas of space.

Covered with volcanic ash, the surface of the small rock was  dotted with small buildings and domes. Nestled nearly 2 1/2 miles below the surface, large caverns held gambling dens that serve as a backdrop for black market and smuggling operations.

The Obscure Oasis was a popular meeting and gambling spot. Lights, laughter and noise of the games made for an environment where latinum flowed like wine. He expected to encounter his unsavory contact at any moment, so he decided to stop in and have a drink.

Lights over the Dabo table flickered as players cheered and Ferengi waiters dash back and forth between the bar and their customers. Cocktails, snacks, and other vices of choice were on the menu in exchanged for slips of latinum. Attractive and scantily clad Dabo girls were juxtaposed against their abhorrent and flirtatious patrons. The deeds those women must endure to earn pay for their masters, that thought angered him. He had to shake it off, he was to gather information and didn’t need any distractions at this point.

Despite the low light, he easily spotted his contact. Sitting in a dark corner, a dumpy Yerdian and short Antican were surrounded by three Ferengi . They appeared to be in an exchange of some sort. From the antics of the Frengie, it appeared a fairly important negotiation taking place. They were so animated that the group looked like a  band of rats squabbling over a piece of cheese.

Ranor nodded and motioned with his head that the Antican should join him when we was free. Ranor walked toward an empty table, along the way he grabbed a waiter by the arm and snarled a quick drink order.

To emphasize his point, he gave an extra squeeze to the man’s arm.

A half hour later, Bel-voraat, his Antican contact  stood up and shooed the gathered assembly away. He joined Ranor and seemed grateful to be away from the small mob of Ferengi .

“Greetings, I was not expecting you back so soon.”  The Antican greeted him in a slurred tone.

Ranor ignored the comment and went directly to business. “Whats in the bag?” He snarled.  Bel waved his hand dismissively, just a bit of cargo for you.  “Nothing a professional smuggler like yourself can not handle.”

Bel-voraat opened the bag to reveal a small cylinder.  Ranor’s eyes went wide. “No.” he exclaimed. “That’s not what I think it is, is it ?”

The Antican gave a slow nod with an sly smile. “Bio-mimetic gel.”  His eyes gleamed. “I have a buyer, just on the other side of the boarder.”  Ranor wanted to ask how he got the substance, but thought better of those probing questions.  As   he examined the container he noticed the distinctive Federation markings.

Bel-voraat handed him a small data pad, “This has the heading and all the information you need for the job.”

“This type of shipment will cost extra.” He leaned forward, “Hope you can afford it ” He stood up quickly, took he took bag with the gel and began to leave.

Bel-voraat called after him.

“RANOR!, Just a reminder,  if you don’t complete this mission, you will be dead.” The way he said it, made it sound like the statement had a double meaning.

Ranor shot back, “The same goes for you, if don’t have my latinum when I return.”  And with that he departed.

For Ranor aka R’Tor to uncover the power behind the pirate attack and raids taking place in areas near the Caradassian border he and his crew would need to pass themselves off as smugglers and characters of ill repute. With themselves and their ship in disguise, this first high level trade would set the tone for all future exchanges.

Ranor sat in the command chair staring at the view screen, but not looking at anything in particular. He contemplated the different uses that the small amount of bio-mimetic gel they were carrying  could be used for. He rubbed his chin and his thoughts strayed from the gel for a moment as he was struck by the odd sensation of bare skin. Not having fur was going to be more of a challenge then he thought to himself.  Plus, he missed his tail. He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.

He looked down at the PADD and reviewed the information on the substance he was taking for the illicit trade.  After passing through the history, warnings and lengthy notations about violations, he scrolled to the point that concerned him the most.

Bio-mimetic gel

• Uses

Due to its innate properties Bio-mimetic gel is often used in the creation of biogenic weapons, no to mention its use for genetic and cloning experiments, which is highly illegal .  Special Note: Highly regulated as contraband by Federation law. Its sale or attempt to obtain the substance is a felony for civilians in the Federation.

“What are pirates doing trafficking in this stuff.”  Ranor wondered aloud.  “Well, due to its restricted nature, bio-mimetic gel is rare and valuable as a commodity.”  Dr. Valerias stated.  As a Vulcan it was easy to make a few minor alterations to make her look like a Romulan.

Ranor tilted his head sideways, “Sure, but there are other commodities that are less likely to raise concern.” Before she could respond, the debate was cut short as Colt spoke up. “Sir, we are coming to the designated coordinates.”

“Slow to impulse.” Ranor responded.

Colt looked over his controls, “We are at the rendezvous point, sir”

“All stop.”  Ranor requested. “Do a full sensor sweep of the area.”

“Sensors are clear, no energy readings.” Colt replied. “However, we are getting some anomalous readings from a nearby asteroid field.”

Commander Russell stepped over to the science station. “Sir, it looks like they contain deposits of Magnesite, Uridium and Chrondite.” He paused and looked back to Ranor, “This would be an ideal hiding spot for…”  He was cut off by Colt, “Sir, a ship just appeared on sensors. It’s exiting the asteroid field.”

Russell returned to his post next to Ranor. He wanted to know what they were dealing with. “Identify.”  Russell looked back at the panel, “Confirmed, ship of unknown power signature and configuration. They will intercept us in four minutes.”

A few moments passed and Colt gave a perplexed look and turned back to his command officer.  “I don’t understand this, it is clearly Cardassian, but it is unlike any vessel on record.” He shook his head “Sensors are not penetrating the hull, sir.”

“On screen.” Came the reply. Colt turned and activated the screen. The entire bridge crew watched as the strange looking vessel; half the size of a Galore class appeared on the screen. It had the look of a horseshoe crab.

“Did we cross into Cardassian space?”  Ranor wanted to know.  “Negative sir” came a response.  “We are two light years from the border.”  Ranor did not like the idea of a strange Cardassian ship prowling beyond its own borders.

“We are being hailed sir.”  Ranor thought a moment. “Ah..Audio only.”

“Tansport vessel, this is Gul Vissan of the Mak-Tellar.” There was a short pause “Is there something wrong with your viewscreen?” The Gul questioned.

“This is Captain Ranor or the The Dealer’s Gambit.” He put on an air of  annoyance “We appear to be dealing with some minor technical difficulties.”

“I am so sorry to hear that.” Came the insincere reply from Gul Vissan. “If you like, I could send a repair crew to your ship and help make any repairs that are necessary.”

Russell rolled his eyes, knowing full well that it would be more likely the Cardassians would take over the vessel.

Ranor gave a small laugh, “That is not necessary, but I think you for  your generous offer.”

“Well, this conversation has been most pleasant, but I believe you have some stem bolts?”  The stembolts were a cover for the gel and now Ranor knew he was dealing with his contact.

“It would be beneficial to see the person I am doing business with.”  Came the smarmy request of the Cardassian Gul.

“Certainly.” Ranaor gave a nod and a moment later the view screen activated, but Ranor had requested that his engineer make it look like they were still having difficulties, so the screen was mixed with static and wavy lines that gave the impression of a system malfunction.

“The stembolts are all yours.” Ranor stated with a broad smile, knowing full well that the cargo they were interested in was hidden inside one of the containers.

“Thank you, if the contents meet our standards – you will get what you deserve and perhaps payment enough to fix your screen.”  Ranor thought it curious that pleasantries and threats sound much the same from Cardassians.  A moment later the view screen switched off and a report came from the cargo bay that the containers of stembolts were beamed off the ship.

Both ships hung in space together, Ranor felt the tension on the bridge. It was no doubt during those moments when the Cardassians were checking for the gel and the purity of it. Ranor guessed if it didn’t check out, his ship would come under attack. While the thought to contaminate the contents had occurred to him, he needed these people to trust him.

Eventually the Cardassian ship moved off and disappeared as it entered the asteroid filed. Russell looked perplexed, “Is that it?”

Ranor gave a short shrug and then gave the orders to take the ship back to the planetoid and collect their payment. With his arms crossed, Russell complained, “We did not learn anything from that.”

Ranor smirked and looked at his first officer.  “We actually learned a great deal.”

“What was that?” Russell shot back.

“We learned Cardassians have a new type of ship, they and are not afraid to venture outside their boarder and that they are building weapons.” He looked at the XO, “Why else would they want the gel?”

“Quite a logical deduction.” Dr. Valerias commended.

Russell gave his commander a look of surprise and of understanding.

While it was not a lot of information, it was a piece of the raider puzzle that Starlfeet Intelligence did not have prior to this encounter. The Dealers Gambit returned to the dark asteroid called the Black Rock of Fortune. Ranor collected his pay and would continue to do little trades similar to this one. Each encounter gave him more clues, but the full picture still remained hidden.

The best thing R’Tor aka Ranor and his crew could do, was to bide their time, until they earned enough trust to be allowed into the inner works of this nefarious web of shadows, but for now they would have to deal with skimming the surface.

Weeks had passed and the crew of the disguised Starfleet ship called the USS Adventure continued their covert mission near the Cardassian boarder.  Raids on transports and freighters had increased and R’Tor in the guise of Ranor, a Talarian smuggler, and his crew seek to uncover the reason for the increased activities and the power that is supporting it. Since arriving Ranor had met a few unsavory characters, including several Ferengi, an Antican and most recently a Yridian . 

Captains log Supplemental (Classified – security level Bravo Encrypted)

Operations continue. While we have gained some information about the raids in this area, something bigger is in motion, but we have not been able to discover it. The crew is starting to feel the strain of being on this type of mission, and we will need to resupply the ship soon. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having my own face back. 

R’Tor / Ranor and his crew sat around a small table in a dark corner of a seedy bar. They had expected to meet a contact, but the time had passed by over a standard hour. “Now what!” Russell growled, as he hit the table with his fist, causing all the cups and glasses to jump. “If we continue to chase our tails, we will never accomplish our mission.” The XO complained, as he become more and more agitated over the past few days.

“Calm down” Ranor ordered, “You’ll give us away.” He stated in a hushed by harsh tone. He understood the XO’s analogy but bemoaned the temporary loss of his own tale. “We must play the part we are given and collect the evidence we find.” He gave a piercing look to each one of his crew and held it a bit longer for his first officer. “We have a mission, but I say when it is finished.  Am I understood?”

Each one nodded in a response and the XO thought about it for a moment and then yielded and bowed his head slowly.

“We will wait five more minutes and if the contact has still not arrived, we will finish our drinks and return to the ship.” And once that order was given, the tension fell away.

As a Ferengi server passed by, he dropped a note for Ranor. He looked at it and cursed in his Caitain tongue. “Commander get back to the ship and prepare it for departure, doctor your with me.”  He stood up quickly and addressed his team. “It appears our contact is not coming, but we have been given another job.”

“Where are you going?”  Commander Russell inquired. Ranor gave him a sideways glance. “Docking Bay 3, we are being offered another job.”  The commander looked at him with bewilderment. “Is that wise ?” Ranor gave a shrug.  “No, but we are out of options.”

Docking Bay 3

Shadowy figures gathered in the docking bay.  A few Ferengi , a short Breen and few others, including a Yridianhe recognized as the individual who he was suppose to meet earlier. Ranor approached and growled, “What is the idea?” The Yridian turned and could have sworn that Ranor had fangs. “My apologies …” he stammered a bit, “This will be a profitable…I assure you.”

“It had better be.” As stated as he grabbed the frail man’s arm. “Listen, I am getting tired of do nothing jobs.” Before he could continue, the assembled group was soon joined by a familiar face,  Gul Vissan.  The smug Cardassian looked around and found it difficult to hide his disdain.

Once a proud and powerful people who had joined forces with the Dominion were on the brink of taking over the Alpha Quadrant at one point in time. Their alliance crumbled and the Cardassians were almost wiped out because of it. Who knows what this Gul wants.

His grating voice echoed in the bay. “Apologies too all. Your waiting will not be in vain. 

In fact, if I were standing in your position…well let’s just say, this is one of those rare opportunities.”  Vissan continued with his platitudes, till the gathered group’s attention started to wain. 

He outlined a tactical assault upon a protected transport ship that was filled with, what he described as riches. However, he required the ship to be damaged and not destroyed as it held technology that he required. Each raider was given a PADD with the description of the items required and potential locations. 

“And where will your ship be?”  Ranor spoke up. 

Vissan in his smug response. “Well, due to current tensions in our current political environment it would be ill advised for us to be involved in the beginning of this confrontation.” He extended his arms wide. “But have no fear, we will be nearby should you need assistance.” He smiled with insincerity. 

TRANSPORT RAID

The ship rocked as it received another hit from the defensive systems of the transport.  One ship was damaged, another bugged out, leaving just three ships. Ranor was attempting to play his part, but without hurting any civilians. But this transport ship appeared to be carrying more weapons than a standard vessel of its size. 

“Hard to port.” Ranor ordered. The ship moved with ease out of weapons range. He needed to re-evaluate their strategy, otherwise his ship would begin to take damage. The thin ablative armor had prevented them from taking severe damage. The other ships attempted to hail him immediately, but he chose to ignore them.  

Unlike a Starfleet, he owned no loyalty to these other ships. 

“Sir, what if we send a resonance pulse from the deflector dish to disable the transports engines.” Russell suggested.  Ranor gave a thought and then agreed to the plan. “How long will it take to realine the dish ?” 

“It won’t take long, about five minutes.” Russell answered. 

“Get on it.”  The captain ordered. He then outlined the plan. 

Captain’s log supplemental

Our plan is to disable the transport’s engines. We will then move in and connect using one of our umbilical lines. This will allow us to easily access their computers and deliver Anesthizine gas into their environmental systems. We will then board the ship and retrieve the This will allow us to access the transport un-impeded. We will call off the other raiders.  

Once we have the item and returned to our ship, we will reinitialize the transport’s  engines and send it to coordinates safely out of the range of the remaining raiders. 

By the time he completed his log, another ship had departed the fight. Ranor and his crew put the plan into action and while there were only a few hiccups. They found and identified a distribution manifold with something that looked like a power converter and EPS relay that looked twice as large as anything Ranor had seen.  

The team, with their booty beamed back to the ship. Colt initiated a countdown and moved the ship moved away from the transport. Once they were clear the transport’s engines roared to life and safely disappeared into warp, leaving the remaining raiders behind. 

BACK AT THE BAR

“You ran away.” Ranor argued with the Ferengi. “It…it…was a tactical maneuver.” The stout Ferengi sputtered.  The others around the bar watched this spat unfold and kept an eye out for anyone else who would want to involve themselves.  

The two had been arguing about the raid for the past ten minutes and Ranor did not want to explain himself, because he couldn’t.  He had a mission to accomplish and so far he had seen limited results. 

Ranor snarled and poked the little troll’s chest, “Listen, the next time we go on a raid and you run away, I will make sure you do not return for any profit.”  

This seemed to strike a cord as the Ferengi  hissed and scurried away. Ranor looked around the room seeing if anyone else had an issue with the days events. He noticed the Breen standing stoically in a corner. “You have something to say?” Ranor shouted. A few bar patrons decided to avoid any further conflict and turned their attention to their own drinks and conversations. 

Bel-voraat, his Antican contact walked into the bar and greeted his friend warmly. “Where have you been?” Ranor snapped. “Ahh my friend, not to worry, I have been making some inroads with our patrons.” He grinned. “You have impressed them so much that they wish to meet with you.” He paused, expecting there would be some witty retort. “They wish you to take on even bigger…..opportunities.”

Ranor turned and headed to the door and looked back and Bel-voratt. “Well, lets get out of here, sounds like we have work to do.”