“The greater the intellect, the more ease in its misdirection.”

David Mamet (2015)

Captain Denna Vash balked at the hulking figure that all but consumed the cramped space of the main airlock aperture and resolved to put a brave face on things.

“Lieutenant! Welcome aboard the SS Valdar!” The Galdoran ingratiated, trying to contain himself and not wring his hands together. “I am Captain Denna Vash! May I enquire as to the nature of your visit aboard our proud vessel?”

The man that was effectively blocking the bright light that issued from the interior of the Starfleet vessel behind him (the corona of light causing a halo effect that only served to make his 6ft 2ins, 241lbs frame take on the impression that it has hewn from stone), turned his mournfully brown eyes down towards the simpering alien Captain.

Lucius Harvey frowned, his face a study of detachment as he held out a data – Padd in one of his imposing brown – fists and from somewhere down in the caldera of his broad chest, the Chicago native rumbled in a deep baritone.

“Customs inspection.” The USS Kirk’s Chief of Security eyed the Captain of the civilian – freighter with a dispassionate eye. “All vessels transiting to the Expanse from the Alpha Quadrant are required to submit to an inspection for contraband goods and items prohibited by the Shackleton Accords.

That the ink was still wet on this hastily – drafted legislation and that it applied only to the space immediately around Framheim Station and this side of the Transwarp – conduit was not lost on Vash, but he correctly surmised that silence was the best policy under the circumstances.

If the Galdoran felt any inner – trepidation at this prospect, he did not let it register outwardly and rallied with considerable bonhomie.

“Of course, Lieutenant ! Of course !” Captain Vash assured a little too enthusiastically for Lucius’ liking and swept a theatrically – welcoming hand back down the companionway to indicate that the Starfleet officer should follow him. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you to the Cargo – bay myself! You’ll find everything is in order.” Vash nodded quickly and turned to lead.

“Oh no, not me.” The imposing African – American officer rumbled, bringing Vash to a wincing halt. “I’ll be looking over your passenger list”, she will be performing the inspection of your cargo manifest.”

Captain Vash turned and was forced to squint and hold a hand up to shield his eyes as the massive man turned to one side and light flooded into the tiny airlock from the interior of the Shran – class escort, so it was with considerable difficulty that he was able to register and recognize the diminutive figure that followed in the giant’s van.

“This is our Operations Officer, Ensign Gaca.” The big man rumbled. “I’m sure you’re both going to get on just famously.” He added with no trace of humour in his voice as he brushed past the gawping Galdoran and made his way, unaccompanied, towards the accommodation section.

A Ferengi.

~”Oh fuck, we’re screwed.”~ Denna’s twin stomachs did something contortional and deeply unsettling as he amped up his smile to megawatt proportions and tried no to noticeably sweat.

For her part, the tiny Ferengi in her mustard – shouldered uniform smiled her sharp – toothed smile and nodded her lobed – head suggestively.

“Captain, shall we proceed?” Gaca smiled disarmingly, before adding poignantly. “Time is money, after all.”

Denna’s head swam.

On one hand he looked down the companionway to the back of the retreating Lieutenant and dreaded what connection he might make when he met the ‘passengers’ he had taken aboard. On the other, whilst he was reasonably confident that the cargo they had brought onboard was sufficiently secure from prying eyes, he hadn’t factored for a Ferengi of all things !

These people practically wrote the book when it came to smuggling.

Frantically looking for a way out of this woeful predicament, Denna Vash led the diminutive Ferengi officer to the turbolift with a growing sense of misery that he tried his best not to let  inflect into his tone.

“Of course, Ensign! This way, if you please?”

As they emerged into the shadowy, capacious cargo hold, neat and serried banks of cargo containers stretched off into the near – gloom, the echoing space lit only by periodical downlights.

Without further ado, Ensign Gaca drew out her tricorder and began to check against the small screens denoting the stated manifest of each container against what her scans told her were contained within.

“Long way from the former Demilitarized Zone aren’t you Captain?” The Ferengi woman murmured conversationally as she worked. Vash followed a few paces behind and replied enthusiastically.

“Quite so, Ensign !” Denna winced, hesitant to let slip any information that would imperil his position any further. “The heady promise of the Expanse and the wonders it surely holds is too tempting a proposition for many to resist.”

Gaca nodded wisely at this statement.

“Ninety – Fifth Rule of Acquisition – ‘Expand or Die’.”

Denna throat went a little dry at the word “die”, but he managed to croak in reply.

“Words to live by.”

Gaca ran her Tricorder over a crate and prompted, “It says here that this contains fertilizer?”

Vash nodded, “Correct, Ensign. There are native sophants throughout the  Expanse who operate striving agricultural concerns and by all accounts the demand for quality organics is high.”

Gaca regarded the Galdoran neutrally and then smiled.

“Never underestimate the value of bullshit?”

Denna laughed awkwardly. “Something like that.”

He followed in her wake as the Ensign made her purposeful way, weaving methodically through the consignments, always checking the manifest as she went, her claws clicking meticulously on the Tricorder in a regular cadence that somehow made Denna want to scream.

She paused at one particular contained and frowned at the security seal.

“This one contains weapons?”

The Galdoran Captain nodded his ridged – head enthusiastically.

“Yes. Our vessel has been chartered by a Nausicaan hunting party intent on a safari within the various systems of the Expanse. The chance to encounter and hunt new Game is opening up a whole new market for ‘outward – bounds planned – extinction adventure tourism’ it seems. Their weapons are secured here during transit as a security measure. As you can see they are all registered.”

Gaca peered at the manifest. All did seem in order, the weapons were legal – civilian grade hunting rifles and power cells. Her tricorder seemed to corroborate this fact.

She pursed her lips, as if considering something and then smiled sweetly.

“Captain, do you mind if we backtrack slightly? I seem not to have properly saved my last set of inputs?” She made a side of tapping the side of her Tricorder. “Damned things are old as a Negus’ tax – return, normally I applaud thrift in all its forms, but Starfleet really should shell out for some newer models.”

Before Vash could answer, the little Ferengi pivoted smartly on her heel and was off at a steady – clip, rescanning the rows of cargo containers as the Captain attempted to keep up.

Presently she came to a halt and waved the Tricorder at the first container that they had commenced the inspection with.

“Do you want me to open that for you?” The Galdoran gasped, slightly out of breath.

Ensign Gaca peered slyly at the Captain and replied.

“You said this container housed a consignment of organic fertilizer?”

“Yes.”

Gaca wrinkled her wrinkled nose.

“Then I’ll pass.”

Denna nodded and breathed an inward sigh of relief. The prospect of suddenly being assaulted by the overwhelmingly pungent aroma of 65 metric tonnes of manure was enough to deter even the most enthusiastic enquirers.

Gaca sucked her teeth and nodded sagely.

She turned her Tricorder around for him to see the results of the scan and drew her phaser at the same time, levelling it at the surprised Galdoran.

“It’s funny though. When I first scanned it, that’s exactly what my Tricorder said too. But now it seems to think that this crate contains a consignment of Yamok Fruit? Care to explain why that might be?”

Denna Vash smiled queasily and as he did so, his hand reached behind him for a nearby crowbar that one of the loadmasters had left lying on a crate.

That was when Ensign Gaca shot him.

The stunned Galdoran folded limply to the deck as Gaca smiled pityingly and reholstered her sidearm. Before she keyed her Commbadge to open a channel, she nodded to the unconscious Captain spoke approvingly .

“Rule 263 – ‘Never be afraid to mislabel a product.’ Good for you!”

A rumbling voice came over the Comm – channel.

=^= “Harvey here. Go ahead Ensign, talk to me?” =^=

The crafty Ferengi woman smiled expansively as she stepped over the drooling smuggler and reported.

“Captain Vash is transporting illegal Mil-Spec grade weaponry and sufficient raw ammonia to manufacture enough base – explosives to start a small war, which is what I would do if faced with a virgin trade opportunity such as the Shackleton Expanse.” Gaca shrugged lightly. “It doesn’t take a genius to arrive at the conclusion that this cargo isn’t intended for any peaceful purposes.

“A neat trick, but an old one” “When Gaca continued her crooked smile was snakelike. “He installed logic scramblers in the interface boards of his container manifests so that they would misrepresent their true contents but confuse devices like the Tricorder and are (incidentally) illegal as all hell.”

“But Captain Vash is obviously a cheapskate and he skimped where he should have splashed. Expensive versions are near – impossible to fool, but I went back and reconfigured the output of my scans and then re-transmitted the original transmitted data to confuse the confuser. The cheap soft’ couldn’t cope with the logic – imbalance and started generating a new falsehood about what the crates contained. Remarkably easy when you know how.”

=^= “Send a thief to catch a thief. Good work Ensign.” =^= Chief Harvey responded and Gaca chose to take that as a compliment, on balance.

“And what of our good Captain’s erstwhile guests?” She inspected a dirty – nail.

=^= “Well if they are Hunter’s on Safari, I’m the President of the Federation”=^= Lucius sent back dryly. =^= “At least 3 of them have a criminal record longer than a Klingon Opera and the other’s files are probably doctored or competently faked at best. The stench of mercenary hangs heavy in the air. We’re taking them into custody and transferring them to Framheim Station for further questioning. How about Captain Vash? How’s his dignity holding up?”=^=

Ensign Gaca grinned broadly as she considered the groaning Galdoran as he began to recover and flounder in a pool of his own vomit, obviously not enjoying the after – effects of the uncompromising stun beam, as she replied brightly and with some satisfaction.

“Rule 109, Lieutenant – ‘Dignity and an empty sack is worth the sack’.