S01 E03: The Kettirohm Sovereignty: A Ferengi, an Orion, and a Pakled Walk into a Masquerade Ball

 

S01 E03: The Kettirohm Sovereignty:

A Ferengi, an Orion, and a Pakled Walk into a Masquerade Ball

 

               Mission log. Stardate 45126.1. Special Envoy Rayla Retaci reporting. My mission to help the Kettirohm Sovereignty to restructure their society is going well. The Kettirohm Sovereignty is a civilization that includes descendants of Bajor--the Bajdon--who left their home planet two thousand years ago, and a race that is a mortal offshoot race of the Q--the Relamqu. As with any society has decided to change, there have been many challenges, but I have been fortunate that the Kettians have been eager and willing to work with me. The Kettirohm Exploration Division has launched its first ship of exploration into a mostly uncharted area of space only fifty light years from Kettirohm space. That is a major success. Tirinor Karese, the Kettian leader whom I am working with, is still hammering out trade agreements with otherworld government officials. I am assisting by helping interview other offworld merchants who have offered goods that the Kettians have expressed interest in.

               The trade negotiations and most of my work with Kettirohm will be done on Phaleon, the third of ten planets in the Kettirohm solar system. Tirinor Karese is the leader of Phaleon--"Tirinor" being a title that means, essentially, "governor". A different Tirinor leads each of the planetary governments. Lor'Kael Jazen--the supreme leader (“Lor’Kael” meaning “king”)-- is on the planet Adoroth, the fourth planet. Karese just happens to be Jazen's sister. They are both Relamqu, the ruling race of the sovereignty, meaning they rule over the Bajdon. The Relamqu apparently left the Q Continuum willingly and were transformed into mortals just to be the leaders of the Bajdon. The Bajdon seem amenable to the Relamqu as benevolent rulers. My race, El-Aurians, once had a cold war with the Q. There is still very little known about the Relamqu at this point. There are known instances of some of the beings of the Q Continuum being transformed into humans.

The Bajorans have finally decided to extend a hand in friendship to the Bajdon. A new ambassador, Jayu Botic, has just arrived. Jayu is a young ambassador from Bajor on his first assignment. He is here to open diplomatic talks with Kettirohm. The Bajdon had previously shown little interest in having diplomatic relations with the Bajorans. Most of the Bajdon have no ill will toward Bajorans; they feel that they have been separated for so long that the two cultures now have little in common.

 

               Rayla met with Ambassador Jayu in the courtyard of the state building. The ambassador had one Kettian security guard behind him. "Though I agree with the reasoning," he told Rayla, "This guard is making me a little nervous." Rayla understood. No one liked being followed everywhere by a person with a weapon, even if the weapon wasn't drawn. Even worse, Jayu had lived through the Cardassian occupation of Bajor. He did not like being around anyone with a weapon.

While most Bajdon seemed mildly disinterested in opening diplomatic relations with their parent race, Bajorans, there was a small fringe group that was vehemently against it. The fringe group's leader, Chinay Siltres, had made vague threats about what would happen to the ambassador if he stepped foot on any of the Kettirohm planets. As a result, Tirinor Karese had ordered the ambassador to have an armed escort.

               Rayla said, "It is a necessary precaution. How do you feel about the Bajdon so far?"

               "They seem very friendly--when they will stop and talk to me, that is. I've seen a little of their art so far. Their tapestries, floral arrangements, sculptures, all of that in the state building is so beautiful. I like how they have spent so much time developing the aesthetic beauty of their surroundings. I look forward to seeing the art galleries later on."

               "I have a feeling the Bajdon's artistic genius will quickly become known throughout the Federation," Rayla said. “Will you be attending the Treja Solezan?”

               “Oh, yes. That’s something else I am looking forward to.”

The Treja Solezan was a masquerade ball celebration that would be held two days hence. It was the Kettian celebration of the two races of Kettirohm—Bajdon and Relamqu—living together in peace and harmony for two millennia. The ball was held every three years. Everyone would wear a decorated mask to hide their race, even though the only outward difference between the two was the ridges on the noses of the Bajdon and no nose ridges on the Relamqu. There would be food, music, singing, and dancing. The event would start in the evening and would last until the wee hours of the night, so most ended up removing their masks before the night’s end, but by then, there was so much drunken revelry that no one cared. The celebration balls would be held in several locations throughout the eight most densely populated planets of Kettirohm.

Rayla said, “I’m looking forward to it too. I understand that it’s a very important part of the culture here.”

 

               Rayla looked at the image on the data pad. “It looks like a Ferengi. Only with smaller ears,” she told Feero. “Well, not every race can be graced with good lobes,” the Ferengi replied. Rayla handed the pad to Tirinor Karese. The Tirinor looked at the image and said, “Very nice. A very dramatic setting. And good use of color.” She scrolled through the other images. “These paintings are excellent. Very fitting for everyone’s tastes here.” Feero explained that the paintings had been found in an abandoned vault on a Coloran mining planet. One of the minors had collected the paintings and sold them to Feero. Feero, like any good Ferengi, could always smell profit. He knew the Kettians, especially the Bajdon, loved art and would be willing to pay a good price for it. He had dozens of them from the abandoned vault, different canvases and sizes, all dated over three hundred years old but still in good condition.

A few minutes later, they interviewed an Orion merchant named Olran-Gie. He offered an antidepressant drug, called drakensil, that had been manufactured by a Trill scientist on an independent colony world. The majority of Kettirohm citizens were happy and fulfilled, but in the last few years, there were an increasing number of cases of depression. It was one of the reasons that Lor’Kael Jazen had decided to end the long-standing Kettirohm isolationist policy. Olran set a half-pint vial of the drug in liquid form on Karese’s desk.

Their last merchant meeting for the day was with a Pakled. Paglonmog smiled and held up a small device in the palm of his hand. In his other hand, he held up a metal tube that was about ten centimeters long. He pushed a button on the tube, and a flame came out of one end, like a torch. Rayla and Karese gasped. Pakleds were not known for their intellect or their respect for safety. Rayla thought this could either be a circus act, or he was about to set the room on fire. Karese exclaimed that unauthorized fires were not permitted in the building. Paglonmog aimed the device in his other hand at the flame and, just like that, the flame was no more. “It makes fire stop,” he said, still smiling.

               Rayla and Karese looked at each other. Both of them did a kind of head nod that was akin to an eye roll. Tirinor Karese said politely to Paglonmog, “Yes. You lit a fire, and then you made it stop. What exactly are you trying to sell to us?” He held up the small device. “This box makes fire stop. You have fire art. This helps.” He handed the device to Rayla. She examined it. She was a diplomat, not a Starfleet officer, so she didn’t have a tricorder. She saw that it had different settings, but she couldn’t tell anything else just from its exterior. “So this is some kind of fire extinguisher?” she asked as she handed it to Karese. “It makes fire stop,” the Pakled repeated. Karese examined the device and then pulled up her file on Paglonmog’s sales application. She thought it would be better to just look it up than to ask him to explain. The Pakled had done an initial demo for one of Karese’s staff, who had written up the application. “Your application says its core power source is a special ore that can be used as a flame retardant. It can be used at different settings to make a flame smaller or larger or completely extinguished. This could be useful to our flame artists when they do an expo.”

 

               Women wearing long evening dresses seemed to be a universal constant for formal parties. Rayla entered the Treja Solezan masquerade ball wearing a fuchsia pink ball gown. She had purchased it at a local store that Tirinor Karese had recommended. She had purchased her mask at a different store that was selling masks just for this occasion. She was sure she paid too much for it, just like any money-driven society when demand was high, but that was okay, she thought. She wanted to experience as much of the culture here as possible. Of course, there were so many artists here that many of the locals made their own mask or made masks to sell. Hers was a soft pink to match her gown, bedecked with colored jewels all around the eyes. It covered her entire face, except for small holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth. There were many types of masks worn at this ball. Some were abstract works of art, while others resembled an animal's head or some literary character. The masks covered just the eyes, or half the face, or the whole face, or the whole face and head.

               “Come join the dance!” a woman said as she strolled past her. Rayla saw a group of people doing what looked like a line dance. She had seen videos of the dance style the Kettians did at formal parties. It was a very stylized, choreographed dance with men and women. She decided to just observe the dance this time. It looked intricate, but maybe she would be able to pick it up at some point. The blaring electronic music was fast-paced and joyful. The five-person band was in a corner of the room.

               A short male wearing a huge head-covering mask stepped in front of her. “Why don’t we make our own dance?” he said as he started jumping and flapping his arms. Rayla smiled and said, “Thanks, Feero. But I think I’ll just wander around.”

               “You know who I am?” the Ferengi asked, genuinely surprised. With his lispy speech, short stature, and mask that had to be big enough to cover his ears, who else could it be? “Just a lucky guess,” Rayla said as she walked away, smiling to herself. She had heard through the grapevine that the Ferengi, Pakled, and Orion merchants would all be here. She knew the Ferengi would be easy to recognize. However, Paglonmog and Olran may only be recognizable by their voices, assuming Olran wore gloves over his green hands. The merchants were both rather large, but so were many of the Kettians. The only other species she could easily identify were the Relamqu. Her El-Aurian senses always told her when she was near a being of the Q Continuum. At first, she wasn't sure she would be able to sense the Relamqu, as they had been humanoid for several generations. But she found that she could sense them quite easily. She saw many Relamqu mingling with the others. She was glad to see that the “ruling class” was able to fit in and didn’t always try to keep the Bajdon at arm’s length.

               Elsewhere at the ball, Irajor Surtos was proud of his trarak mask. Traraks were wild animals in the dense Phaleon jungles of the south. He had made his mask a perfect imitation of the thickness, texture, and color of the fur; the same shape of the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. He even wore colored contact lenses that were just the right shade of amber. The opening for the mouth was just big enough to allow him to sip beverages through a straw. The rest of his costume was a bright red party suit to complement his festive mood. He started to partake from one of the beverage bowls when he was approached by a large man wearing a mass-produced general face mask of beige color with small black circles. Irajor greeted the large man. "Nice party, huh?" The large man walked up and stood very close to him--a little too close--and said, "You are Kosee."

               "Uh, no..." Irajor replied, a bit confused.

               The stranger said again, "You are Kosee. Here." He slipped a data rod into Irajor's hand. "This is for you. You take. You use. Call me later." And then he quickly walked away.

               Frohhn! What is this? Irajor thought. Was he asking me on a date? Irajor looked at the data rod. He slipped it into his pocket. Guess I’ll look at it later, if I don’t forget about it. He enjoyed himself the rest of the night and thought no more about the strange man.

               Elsewhere in the large ballroom, wearing a dark burgundy suit and gloves and a native animal mask, Olran decided to sample some of the local cuisine. He picked up a large plate and looked at the food on the large buffet. He didn’t recognize anything. He hoped somewhere among all those colorful chunks was some hearty meat. He put some food on his plate as he made it to the end of the table. There were three large bowls of liquids, each with a label in Kettian, which he had no idea how to read. He assumed they were some type of alcoholic beverages. He grabbed one of the upside down drinking glasses and turned it right side up on the table. He then pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. It was his personal supply of drakensil. He never told anyone he was taking the antidepressant drug himself. After losing his family after a deal gone sour with the Orion Syndicate, he wouldn’t be able to emotionally function without the drug. As he unscrewed the lid from his full bottle, a drunken Kettian bumped into him, making him spill some of the liquid out of his bottle. “Happy Treja Solezan!” the masked silver-suited man said to Olran, skipping away. Olran said, raising his bottle, “Happy JaJa Sezan to you too!” knowing the man was already out of hearing range. The Orion poured a drop of the drug into the drinking glass, then ladled out a green liquid from the large bowl on the end of the table and poured it into his glass. He put his small bottle back into his pocket and picked up his drinking glass. He shook the glass and held it up to his eyes. “It’s green,” he said, “so I guess it can’t be bad.” He drank it down in one gulp.

               After one hour at the ball, Rayla noticed some personality changes in several Bajdon, but noticeably not in the Relamqu. Either this offshoot race of the Q didn’t imbibe alcohol, or they were impervious to its effects. She had a feeling it was the latter. She overheard a couple of people talking. “I’m taking this mask off. It’s so hot. Why do we even wear these things? Art should be looked at, not worn over your face.” “Yeah. It’s like getting one of those paintings off the wall and carrying it around in front of my face.” She also heard someone say, “Everyone’s mask looks so garish. What happened to subtlety?” And another said, “It’s too crowded in here. It was much better three years ago.” And another said, "The food here is awful."

               Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Rayla turned around and immediately recognized the masked person. “Hello Tirinor,” Rayla said to the masked lady. “Hello Rayla,” said Karese. “I guess neither of us can fool each other with these masks.” The two women had worked closely together for the last six months, so of course they knew each other’s stance, voice, and mannerisms. And there was Rayla’s El-Aurian senses too. (Did the Relamqu also have such senses around the El-Aurians? Rayla wondered.) Plus, they both wore a mask over their faces only, leaving their long flowing hair exposed, so it was easy to recognize Rayla’s long thick brown hair and Karese’s long thick black hair.

               Rayla told Karese what she was just observing. “A lot of people here seem to be getting irritable.”

               “I noticed it too,” Karese said. “It’s very strange. These parties are usually filled with merriment, not a bunch of people whining like children.”

               “Is this what Bajdon are like when they are drunk?”

               “Not at all. They are usually pretty happy, especially at a party.”

               “So you think they are being affected by something? Some outside force?” Rayla asked.

               “Maybe. But I don’t know what it could be. There are no known telepaths on the planet that could be projecting their emotions. I will have my security people check it out.”

               “That’s a good idea. By the way,” Rayla said, “I noticed none the Relamqu seem to be affected. Care to tell me why?”

               Karese answered, “We are impervious to mind-altering drugs, telepathy, and all known diseases. That’s the way we were made when we were transformed from Q into mortals.”

               “How convenient.”

               “Yes. It is. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

               After another hour, the crowd had thinned out a little, and just about everyone had removed their masks. Karese was no longer there. There was still a foul mood in the air, but it didn’t seem to be getting any worse, and not all the Bajdon seemed to be affected. Rayla spotted Ambassador Jayu and walked over to talk with him. “Ambassador,” she said, “are you enjoying the party?”

               “It started out fun,” he said. “All the masks and outfits are all so splendid. Then, so many people just started complaining about everything. Kind of spoiled the mood. Even the dancing and singing stopped.”

               She said, “Tirinor Karese told me this isn’t usually how these parties go. She’s having her people investigate to see if they are being affected by some outside force.”

               “Oh, thank the Prophets this isn’t normal for them.”

               Chinay Siltres approached them. He looked directly at Jayu and said, "What are you doing here? This is OUR celebration. We don't need Bajorans here. We are doing fine without you." Jayu had heard so much complaining this night, he would have thought Chinay was under some kind of influence like everyone else. But he knew that Chinay hated Bajorans even before this party. Chinay was the reason there were several armed guards in the room lingering around Jayu. Chinay continued his rant. "On Bajor, we were no longer welcome as workers. We were the labor caste. And another labor caste from another town came and pushed us out. We survived because the Prophets brought us here. We never looked back. Like you, we no longer have our D'jarras, but that’s the only thing we have in common. See what we've built here. You Bajorans wish you had it so good. We've been at peace for two thousand years. We didn't get subjugated by hostiles."

               Jayu had heard it all before. Perhaps the Bajdon did have a right to be proud and think they were better than Bajorans. But he had learned that such arrogance that Chinay had could lead to downfall. Look what happened to the prideful Cardassians and their downfall during the Dominion War. The Bajorans too had once been a proud people, and had it taken from them. Perhaps they could learn from the Bajdon. But, to Jayu, Chinay only proved that the Bajdon could also learn from the Bajorans. Jayu spoke up. "My family was also ke'lora, labor caste. During the occupation, my grandparents told me stories of how they were proud of their caste. Laborers forge metals and build walls that make cities. They were proud to work for their people. When they were forced to work for the Cardassians, breaking their backs to serve the cruel and heartless, they felt as if they had lost themselves. I am sure the other ke'lora never meant to push you away. You could have stayed and worked out a diplomatic solution."

               Rayla cut in. "I have read the history of that period from both the Bajoran and Bajdon sides. Neither of them provide specifics as to what really happened. There are no records that anyone tried to talk, or whether or not there was really enough work to go around for both groups of people, how the other townspeople felt about it, nothing. But now that you both have a chance to start over, you don't have to become unified, but you could at least become friends, allies. Common ancestry is---"

               Rayla stopped talking as Chinay suddenly jerked his head up, his mouth opened, and his arms became stiff. His eyes were wide open and looked as if they were staring into nothingness. Then, just as suddenly, his body became limp, his eyes closed, and he collapsed. Jayu dashed toward him and caught his shoulders just before his head hit the floor. Then he gently laid him down. Everyone gathered around in curiosity and shock as Rayla tried to push everyone back to give Chinay some air. She lightly patted his cheeks to bring him back to awareness. Chinay opened his eyes. They still looked distant, but at least now he was conscious. Rayla asked him what happened.

               Chinay, still dazed, said, "I...had a vision. It was my brother. He died ten years ago from drowning. In the vision, he drank something. Poison perhaps. It caused him to choke and die. Then I was standing over him. I took the goblet and drank from it, then crushed it with my hand and dropped the pieces over his body."

               Rayla and Jayu looked at each other. They had no idea what Chinay's vision meant. He fell unconscious again. A few minutes later, an emergency medical team arrived to carry him to a hospital.

 

               Rayla and Jayu had been called to meet with Police Chief Pineas Mita. On the video screen, Rayla and Jayu watched a large man wearing a burgundy suit and animal mask help himself to a plate of food at one of the buffet tables. The security chief said, "This happened about thirty minutes before the people started getting irritable. Watch." They saw the large man get a small bottle from his pocket and open it. Someone bumped his arm. He poured a drop from the bottle into a drinking glass. The security chief stopped the playback, zoomed in, rewound a few seconds, and played it forward again. When the man's arm was bumped, some of the clear liquid from the bottle spilled into the green beverage bowl. The man himself did not notice it had happened.

               "See that?" Pineas said. (The Bajdon had kept the Bajoran tradition of putting their family name first.) "The jariina juice was contaminated."

               Rayla Retaci said, "That man; he's the Orion merchant that came here to sell his drug. Right?"

               "How could you know that?" Jayu asked.

               "He's wearing gloves. I didn't notice anyone else wearing gloves. And his drug that he was trying to sell to the Tirinor was clear like the one in his bottle. Although I didn't know he was taking it himself."

               "You're very observant, Ms. Retaci. You are correct. That's the Orion. And our chief physician has already confirmed that the drug that he tried to sell is the same one that was in a lot of people's systems last night. It was very potent stuff that so little of it could affect so many."

               "But the drug was supposed to be an antidepressant," Rayla said. "Why did it make everyone so touchy?"

               "Our physician said it could be an antidepressant for Orions, but apparently it doesn't have the same effect on Bajdon. And who knows how it affects other species. And since it was from a non-Federation world, it probably hasn't been through very thorough testing."

 

               Police Chief Pineas Mita looked across the table at the Orion, Olran. She believed Olran when he said he did not know about the nebulous effects the drug had on the Bajdon. Olran explained that he got the drug from a Trill scientist named Dr. Fabon Toros. Chief Pineas looked up Starfleet records on Dr. Toros. (Pineas was happy to have access to Starfleet records now, even if the access was somewhat limited.) Toros was a discredited Trill scientist who tried to claim that a metavaccine he stole from the Andorians could cure the Moriscan flu. The Starfleet database said that Olran had been a suspected member of the Orion Syndicate until his wife and three kids died on a cargo ship. Starfleet Intelligence suspected the Orion Syndicate killed his family because he botched an assignment. Pineas could see why he wanted a treatment for depression. Olran told Pineas he was a freelance merchant, not working for the Orion government or the Orion Syndicate, and that he was just trying to make an honest living. Pineas thought he seemed sincere. After all, he had no way of knowing the drug didn't treat depression in the Bajdon. But still, she had to arrest him for carrying a harmful drug with intent to distribute. Yes, Olran was able to show that he had a valid merchant license to sell low-grade drugs, but that didn't help him if the drug was harmful or if he had misled anyone, even unintentionally.

 

               Rayla visited Chinay in the hospital. She heard Dr. Haken tell Chinay that the mask he had worn to the ball had some kind of gems from offworld that emitted a small amount of particle radiation. The gems must have been fragments from a radioactive meteorite. It wasn't harmful, but it affected the memory area of his brain. That is what triggered the vision he had. And the radiation was such a small amount that it didn't affect anyone else. Chinay said he had bought the gems from a man named Kosee Braji, a Bajdon independent seller. The doctor told Chinay the radiation effects were slowly wearing off and that he should be well enough to be released in two days.

               Chinay looked at Rayla and said, "Is the Bajoran is still here?"

               "He is," she said.

               Chinay said, "That vision of my brother. It was such a vivid image. Things just haven't been the same since..." He hesitated to finish. Rayla tried to get him to talk. "Why don't you tell me about it," she said. "I'm El-Aurian. We are very good listeners." Chinay told her that he had had an older brother, Chinay Mavet. His brother had not shown a talent for art. “Everyone in our family had been  artists. Mavet became a gardener, which he loved. Our parents tried to force him to become a painter. They said gardening was a pedestrian job, no prestige, below the dignity of our family. He tried to honor our parents' wishes. He did a few paintings, but could not sell enough to make a living. Rather than face our parents, he drowned himself in a river." As Chinay spoke, Rayla could see the sadness in his eyes. She said, "I'm so sorry. That must have been hard for you."

               "That's why I am against the Bajorans coming here. They are trying to make all of us into something we are not. They will try to make us become what THEY are, instead of what we have evolved into naturally. They don't like our constitutional monarchy or that we don't worship the Prophets. And they are too closely tied to the mighty Federation."

               Rayla tried to explain to him that the Bajorans would not try to change anyone. All the citizens of Kettirohm could continue to do what they were doing, if that's what they wanted. But, she told him, some Kettians had told her they were ready to try leaving the planet with the new Exploration Division, or to join Starfleet, or to explore space on their own. Some were ready to meet new races they had never seen before. Shouldn't they have the option to change if they are willing? And the ones who are happy as they are also have the option to stay as they are.

                             

               The outdoor holographic statue stood two-and-half meters high. It bore the face of one of the first Tirinors of Phaleon. The park was deserted. It was late at night, well after most Bajdon had gone home for the night. Rayla stared at the statue. The holographic projectors around it were well disguised as streetlamps. Then she saw Kosee Braji approaching.

               "Lovely night, Ms. Retaci."

               "It's a bit chilly for me," Rayla answered back.

               "I could sell you a coat."

               "No thanks. The deal we have is sufficient."

               "You have the money?" he asked. She pulled out her Kettian currency. "Good enough," Kosee said. He pulled out a small bag and handed it to her. She reached into the bag, grabbed a few of the objects, and held them in her hand. "Very pretty. Sparkly," she said holding the jewels. She realized she sounded like a Pakled. She handed him the money. As he reached for it, a female voice from behind him said, "I'll be taking that." He turned around and saw Chief Pineas. Not only her, but Olran, Feero, and Paglonmog were standing next to her.

               Kosee quickly ran away as he slipped the money inside his jacket pocket. Pineas and Rayla ran after him. Pineas yelled at Rayla to stay put, but she kept running after Kosee. She knew Pineas was good at her job, but she really wanted this guy. Kosee ran to a ground transport that someone had conveniently left with its door open. Rayla ran to her own transport just a few meters away. Kosee was in the transport vehicle, speeding through the back roads. He had obviously planned his escape route. He also didn't turn on his external lights, which made him harder to follow at night. But Rayla's transport had sensors that she locked onto her target so she wouldn't lose it. Kosee drove through an alley, then through a tunnel. Then he drove onto a street that had a few other transports. He tried to dodge them. He swerved to the left of one, then to the right of another. Then he made a sharp right to keep from hitting another. Rayla kept after him. Then, a short distance ahead, there was a police road block. Kosee fired projectile photons from the front of his transport. Then, he turned on his underside thrusters, and his transport shot up from the ground and charged above all the transports and policemen on the roadblock.

               But it was not over yet. Rayla also activated her underside thrusters, and her transport elevated into the air to follow Kosee. Rayla fired her projectile photons. It was a direct hit. Kosee's transport started slowing down and lowering to the ground. It was damaged just enough that it had to land, but not so much that it would crash. Rayla saw a burst of exhaust coming from Kosee's engine. Kosee had a hard landing on the ground. Rayla landed next to him. More police arrived. Kosee stepped out of the transport. He appeared to have only minor injuries. It was over for him.

               Pineas had found out Kosee had made his own deals with the Ferengi (Feero), the Orion (Olran-Gie), and the Pakled (Paglonmog). It seemed all three of the foreign traders had come to Phaleon with more merchandise than just what they were trying to sell to the government. Merchants always carried a variety of wares in case they ran into any potential buyers.

               "You see this data rod?" Pineas held up the small, oblong piece of metal. "What about it?" Kosee said. "Irajor Surtos turned it in to me."

               "I don't know him."

               "Oh, I know. But you see, this was given to him by Paglonmog."

               Kosee blinked at the name, but said nothing.             

               Pineas explained that she had looked over the security videos from the masquerade ball. The videos did not have audio, but Pineas knew it was the Pakled who had handed off the data rod by studying a closeup of his hands. Pakled hands were thicker and had a sallower color than Bajdon hands. She was also able to surmise that the Pakled had meant to give the rod to Kosee. Irajor and Kosee had been wearing similar masks. The Pakled had been told to look for someone in a brakkaj mask, but had mistaken it for a trarak mask. The two animals looked very similar to offworlders, but all Bajdon knew that the traraks had smaller ears and noses.

               The data rod contained specs for an old Starfleet engine. Kosee had planned to resell the specs to an engineer in the Kettirohm Expedition Division. The engineer was going to make a few changes to the specs and claim them as his own design.

               And the gems that Kosee had sold to Chinay? Kosee admitted he knew the gems would affect Chinay's mind. He said it was just a little "present" for the one who didn't want offworlders. Kosee knew he could benefit from offworlders, and Chinay had publicly spoken against it. He didn't want to do any real harm to Chinay, but giving him some discomfort seemed fitting. He had purchased the exotic gems from the Ferengi. And from the Orion, Kosee had purchased an illegal Andorian particle infuser that he resold to an industrialist.

              

               “That was excellent work chasing down and catching Kosee. How did you gain your piloting skills?” Karese asked Rayla, as the two women shared a drink.

               “Just something I picked up. And Pineas’ police force helped a lot.” Chief Pineas had also complimented Rayla, while at the same time chastising her for chasing Kosee in the first place. “I was just glad to do my part. Too bad all three of the merchants had to be turned down.”

Feero had been arrested for selling the irradiated gems to Kosee. Olran had been arrested for trying to sell a harmful drug and for selling the illegal particle infuser to Kosee. And Paglonmog had been arrested for trying to sell stolen Starfleet specs. A good lesson for the Tirinor and the Envoy: be wary of private merchants from non-Federation worlds. Karese said she WAS able to negotiate trade deals with some of the government representatives she had spoken to in the last few days.

“I also want to thank you for talking to Chinay. He has convinced his followers to be open-minded about meeting Bajorans. That’s a good start to my negotiations with Ambassador Jayu,” Karese said. “All Chinay needed was someone to listen to him,” Rayla said. As a former Q, when Karese had first met Rayla, she wondered what the El-Aurian’s true intentions were, but as she got to know her, she saw that Rayla had no pretenses or ill will; she was just there to do her job, and she believed that her job was necessary and honorable. Karese found that commendable.

 

Mission log. Supplemental. Special Envoy Rayla Retaci reporting. Tirinor Karese now sees the value of dealing with Federation-approved entities. The United Federation of Planets goes through many pain-staking steps to make sure people and materiels are documented and safe for all involved. Chinay has agreed to share his brother’s gardening tips with Ambassador Jayu. It is a good step towards friendly relations. My working relationship with the Tirinor should become even better in the next few months.

 

 -by the Honorable Kavura

 

Thank you for reading my Star Trek Adventures: Captain’s Log mission report. Captain’s Log is a solo roleplaying game by Modiphius Entertainment.