((USS Culver City, Bridge))

It had only been a short time since the Culver City had pulled into orbit of Derganix, running alongside USS Soval.  On the bridge, Lieutenant Commander Varyn K’lev sat in his command chair, reading the latest report on the Dergan Revolution, when a chime from the Ops console pulled his gaze.  The sound also drew the attention of Lieutenant (jg) Tiza, who studied his displays before looking up.  “Incoming text message from the Soval; they confirm that the three we sent over are safely in their brig, and are asking us,” he reread the message, making sure he’d gotten it right, “asking us to line the three shuttles we captured up, parallel to their conference room windows, then take on the six Blythe shuttles in need of homes.”

K’lev raised his right eyebrow, though it didn’t move far before stopping as he winced; he sometimes forgot that the prosthetic assembly interfered with the elasticity of his skin.  “Tell them we’d be happy to take Blythe survivors aboard.  And ask them what they’ve got in mind with the captured shuttles, because that part’s a little odd.”

Tiza sent the message, and a response arrived quickly.  “They want to use them as a visual bargaining chip with the Consortium.  They’re also saying that they will hold a public court-martial for the three security officers we sent over, and are inviting you to a conference with Consortium leadership.  And they ask us to stand by to transfer our Consortium prisoners as a gesture of goodwill before the conference starts.”

K’lev whistled lowly.  “Just a couple things, right?” He muttered to himself.  “Okay.  Tell them we’ll have the Ferengi prisoners standing by, and that I’d be honored to attend the conference, and extend my thanks for both their help with the court-martial and the clarity on the shuttle question.”  He paused for a moment.  “Oh!  And tell them that we confiscated the energy dampener we took off that one shuttle, and won’t be giving that back.”

As Tiza set to his console once more, K’lev tapped his combadge.  “K’lev to Hilava.  We’ve been asked – by the Soval, by the way – to have the shuttle crews ready to repatriate before a conference; are they all doing well?  Or as well as can be expected?”

“Yup!” Hilava replied.  “Clean bills of health across the board; we actually just did today’s examination a few hours ago.”

K’lev nodded.  “You’re a saint, Hilava; please have them ready to transport when needed, and let’s also send over copies of all of our medical records for them – both physical and mental health, let’s leave nothing out – when we send them over.  No secrets.”

“Will do!” Hilava said, then closed the channel.

K’lev then turned back to Tiza, who spoke up as his commanding officer’s eyes found him once more.  “Soval confirms everything, no objections,” Tiza said.

“Excellent,” K’lev replied.  “One more thing, then; let’s get those Ferengi shuttles out of our bays, to clear them for Blythe’s six.  And ask if we’ll need to find lodgings for their crews, too.”

“On it!” Tiza answered.  Over the next few minutes, perhaps 20 or so, the three captured Ferengi shuttles – piloted by Starfleet flight crews – launched from Culver City’s bays, one from each shuttlebay, then flew over to form a three-ship line in front of Soval’s conference room windows.  As each shuttle reached their final placement and matched orbital velocity with both Culver City and Soval, their crews signaled ready to beam back, at which time Culver City beamed back its temporary flight crew.  Once the last crew had been recovered from the last Ferengi shuttle, K’lev clapped his hands.  “Good!  Now let’s tell the Irrawaddy that her flock can come join us about whenever they’re ready.”

((Cockpit, USS Foster))

“Alright the Hoffmeister has landed. Our turn.” Lady said to Abernathy.