Stepping into the prep room, Lieutenant Gavin Mitchell had, as ordered, donned civilian garb, much like the rest of Silver Team. The only exception to this was Silver 3 – Stirling Fightmaster, who had instead merely added an excursion jacket to his look.

“I know for a fact Lieutenant that you have barely worn that,” he said as he gave Stirling a look over worthy of uniform inspection, “but somehow it doesn’t look brand new. What’s your secret?”

“Followed the care instructions,” Stirling answered. “There’s an entire section on weathering and care.”

“Nah,” Rosa Mackeson interjected. “I saw he wears it around his quarters each night.”

“Should we check with W’a’le’ki?” asked Amber Leckie.

“Later,” Mitchel said, cutting off any further intra-team hazing, though he noted that Fightmaster’s complexion had only reddened slightly. “The boss has given us a job, so we’re going to do it right.”

All of them had opted for some form of dark pants, comfortable footwear, jackets and tops of various colours. He’d mostly continued the dark theme, Brek had gone neutral colours and the ladies had opted for various colours, Rosa at least opting for ones that went with her green skin. And not a single one of them was wearing a Starfleet commbadge or armed even with a Starfleet issue phaser. Standard issue that is.

They had gathered a collection of recovered weapons into Atlantis’ armoury over the last few months, even made a few, so a Hazard Team could blend in if required without being too conspicuous. Those had been issued to all, again save for Fightmaster, and he was looking at a few individuals whom normally he’d not concern himself with if he was on a busy space station.

Which was the whole point.

“Right, we’re all going to visit Sickbay in a moment and get inner ear earbuds that are tied to our comms. I only want people to hear one side of any conversation and let Fightmaster here know what we’re up to while he stays on the captain.”

The yeoman nodded as he was mentioned.

“Excellent. Now, no names while talking. Numbers only. The ship is Home. The captain is Spear. Understood?” He watched as the whole team nodded in the affirmative.

“Complication,” Fightmaster then said. “The captain has invited an ensign to accompany us.”

“Hmm…Pip,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Good?”

“Home, Spear, Pip, numbers for us,” Rosa said.

“Nothing like being reduced to a number,” Amber joked.

“I count five,” he finally said, starting the little ritual his team had formed during their training sessions on the holodeck.

“Five come back,” they all replied.

The entire concept of Handl Dryf’s primary retail space was the never-ending street mall. The majority of the station resembled the concept of a Stanford torus – a large rotating ring-shaped station, providing artificial gravity of roughly 0.9g to the inside of the outer ring sections via centrifugal force. Spokes radiated inwards to a central hub and from there two larger spokes shot out, perpendicular to the plane of the torus and shot off for kilometres into the void. The inner ring surface was compromised of clear metals and crystals, to provide protection from the interstellar medium and allow for an unobstructed view of the rest of the ring if one was just to look up.

Of course, the need to spin the station for artificial gravity was no longer required, but the novelty was still there and in some cases a drawing point for the station’s limited tourism. The design, while it had been practical in the distant past where artificial gravity was a commodity, lent itself to something entirely different in the modern era. It meant that the primary retail and commercial spaces on the station could line a single street and that street ran the station.

If one started walking in a straight line they would inevitably find themselves back where they started. The never-ending street mall would take hours to walk in a dedicated fashion. Longer if one meandered. By the time someone got back to where they started it was hoped they’d have forgotten half of what they’d seen and visit the same shops once more.

With retail and storefronts on the street, residential was jammed in behind them in terraces up the torus’ sides. And with the size of the torus allowing for some impressive terracing, it also meant the place was impressively packed and busy. Travelling merchants, small corporate offices, tourists passing through, the service staff who kept the whole place running and then topped off with a rather large transient refugee population.

And in amongst all of that were three very obvious Starfleet officers whom Silver team had been charged with protecting.

“I’ve lost sight of Spear,” Rosa’s voice came over the earbud. “And found yet another establishment of ill repute. Honestly, this place needs to be taken over by an Orion matriarch.”

“Spear just stepped into a store,” Gavin said, quietly so as to appear as if he was just whispering to himself, but enough for the pickup on the jacket collar to convey his words to the team. If one of the team had lost sight, he was going to help them out. “Blue sign between food cart and busker.”

“One mo,” Rosa responded, then a moment later, “See it.”

Gavin was only one terrace up; on the side of the station a helpful guide had informed him was called Green. The other side of the main street was the Purple side of the station. It let him watch storefronts on the Purple side while Brek was mirroring him, watching the stores that were below him. Both Amber and Rosa were down in the street, keeping their distance from the away team, but close enough to respond quickly if need be.

“Spear said to keep an eye out for somewhere she could have a meeting, right?” Amber piped up over the line. “Just found a place. Oh hell, it’s a saloon.”

“Where?” came Fightmaster in a rare interruption of the rest of the team’s chatter.

“Main street, Green, about five more stores down from you.”

“Thanks,” he replied.

“Ah excellent, you’re all here,” Captain Theodoras said as she stepped into the transporter room, fashionably late in some circles, exactly on time aboard a ship as per a captain’s prerogative. Everyone else was just early.

“As requested, ma’am,” Mitchell answered. “Brek and I will maintain overwatching on level one, Mackeson and Leckie will be on the street level with you.”

“Sounds good Lieutenant. Need to see the station administrator first so Ensign Tabaaha, Lieutenant Fightmaster and I will be beaming into his reception. Chief Dai will then put the rest of your team down nearby so you can tail us as we leave.”

“Aye, ma’am. Are you expecting a tail leaving the Administrator’s office?” Mitchell asked as the uniformed officers took to the transporter padd, the Ensign carrying a case in her hands and looking very unsure of herself.

“No. Handl Dryf is renowned for its privacy. But other interested parties might still try.” The captain turned as she stepped onto one of the sub-pads. “Oh, and keep an eye out as well for somewhere one could have a meeting in private with guests. The more eyes the quicker we can find something and then return to the ship.”

“Two, check it out,” Mitchell said. “Find out if they do a private room or not.”

“On it,” came Rosa’s response. An Orion with a thick Australian accent wasn’t the most unique thing aboard Atlantis, but it was up there. The entire team had learned that she was a master of fake accents however and he just hoped she’d adopt something a bit more expected when speaking with the establishment staff.

“I have something One,” Brek finally said over comms, having kept quiet for the most part. “Green side, an alley just ahead of you. Looks like they’re tailing Five. Two Nausicaans.”

“Aw, I’m flattered,” Amber piped up.

“Can it,” Mitchell snapped. “I’m on it.”

Moving through the crowd around him with haste while not looking like it was an art. “Excuse me, pardon me. Sorry.” All spilled from his lips as he moved through the crowd, taking care not to bump into people as best as he could. Arriving at the railing he looked down at the alleyway, noting the height. Not a short drop, not a long one either, just mightily inconvenient. Eyes glanced around for any way down.

Soon enough he was over the railing, holding onto it, then dropping to hold onto the ledge itself. After a second of swinging and he let go, aiming for a stack of crates. Feet made contact with the top crate, but too much momentum kept him going. Half falling, half running down the side of the stack, barely taller than a man, he managed to bring himself to a stop just behind the two Nausicaans.

Not the stealthiest approach ever, as both of them turned to face him. No point in attempting to be stealthy now. “Hello,” he said with a smile.

“What do you want, human?” the larger of the two growled.

“Nothing, just distracting you so the girl can get away.” He could see Amber disappearing into the crowd, losing sight of her himself just as the Nausicaans turned around to confirm, then back to him. “Whoops.”

“One human is as good as any other,” the shorter one said. “Boss wasn’t fussed.”

“Just didn’t want a scene is all,” the first one confirmed as both turned on Mitchell, grinning their very sharp and pointy-looking smiles. Truly faces only a mother could love. And then they both started stalking towards him.

“Now now chaps, let’s talk about this,” he said calmly, brushing his jacket aside as he stepped backwards, hand going for his phaser but not raising it.

“Oh, he’s armed,” the shorter one said with glee.

“Yes sister,” the larger said. “You can have fun.”

The first thought to go through his mind was ‘Sister?’ before he threw himself to the side and out of the way of the charging Nausicaan, hearing her collide with whatever had been behind him. With no time to look back at her, he drew and fired on the other, the blue beam of the modified civilian weapon grazing her leg and sending her to her knees, a scream of shock turning into an angry growl.

It hadn’t stunned his attacker, just numbed their leg. Why he wasn’t sure about, but it would have to wait.

A noise behind him caused him to spin, the shorter one back on her feet, a murderous look on her face. “I’m going to enjoy killing –“ Her threat was cut off by an orange beam that went right over his shoulder and into her face.

Turning he saw Amber repeating her effort into the other Nausicaan, who had been turning to face the newcomer as well. “Sorry boss,” she said. “Got here as fast as I could.”

“Plenty fast enough for me,” he assured her. “Nice shooting.”

“All good?” Rosa asked over comms.

“All good. How’s the saloon?” He indicated to Amber and they started to drag the Nausicaans out of sight, laying them down behind the stack of crates he’s used as very awkward stairs.

“Perfect. They have private meeting rooms and serve cuisine from across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants,” Rosa answered. “Even booked a room already Three.”

“I’ll let Spear know,” Fightmaster chimed in. “Spear says bring your dance partners. See if we can’t get any answers out of them when they wake.”

With a sigh, Mitchell looked to the two fallen figures, then back to Amber. “Wish we’d known that before we dragged them over here.” She just smiled at him. “Mitchel to Atlantis,” he said after tapping his commbadge to hail the ship. “Leckie and myself to return to the ship, plus two Nausicaans at our location directly to the brig.”