Costs of Doing Business: Worth the Price, Part 4

Posted on Tue Aug 5th, 2025 @ 11:17pm by Corporal Eden McKenzie & Lieutenant Xalanth & Lieutenant Ryan Keel & Lieutenant JG Jason Williams III & Ensign Dani Harper
Edited on on Wed Aug 6th, 2025 @ 12:52am

1,330 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Bombs or Bombshells
Location: Outskirts of Nowhere, Freecloud
Timeline: MD 002, After Worth the Price, Part 3

On the surface, Trass looked up to the sky, and huffed out a sigh. He felt a bone-weariness settle on him, the adrenaline fading. Most missions weren't like this. But those that were ... they made him feel old. And he was also usually left behind. The Bolian tapped his commbadge and rasped out a 'I think you forgot a few of us down here.'

A figure slid down the fire escape from her sniper perch and headed over to Trass. Fulvia still had her weapon drawn even if it was at rest. " Now that gets your blood pumping, doesn't it?" The manga roman said, walking over to the stairs tank and attaching a tracking beacon. " Come on, we still have their ship to secure. Hopefully, it has the weapons." She gestured over to the ship parked not far from the site of the firefight.

Trass looked to the ship, and huffed in frustration. The fight was over, and with the adrenaline fading away the little aches and pains that told him that he was too old for this line of work began making himself known. His knee twinged, reminding he could always go for that desk job running ops like this. 'Alright,' he said, rolling his shoulders and flexing his neck from side to side. 'Let's get this over with.'

The tall Bolian fell into step with the Magna Roman, keeping his stolen disruptor held lightly at his side in case of surprises the Nausicaans had left them.

Fulvia flicked on her eyepiece and scanned it over the ship as they approached the ship. Thankfully, there was no one else in the ship and its defences were down. Looked like the guy who knew how to work it had died in the fight with the Breen. Holtering her rifle, they stepped inside. She let out a whistle at the crates in the ship hold. " Looks like we hit the jackpot." she said with a grin on her face.

Nodding, Trass advanced on one of the crates, and pulled out his tricorder. He passed it over the container for a moment or two before shrugging. 'Shielded from scans - to be expected, of course,' he shot a smile at Fulvia, pale eyes glowing with some mirth, 'must be something good in these.'

The Bolian kicked one of the containers, pleased with the dull thump. 'Shall we open them and confirm?'

" Yeah, stand back. I doubt they'll have rigged them, but better safe than sorry. " Fulvia said as she pulled a pair of gloves from her belt. After snapping them on, she flipped the magnetic latch, lifting the lid. Row after to of cylindrical jars full of a glowing red mist.

" Finally. " Fulvia grinned at Trass. Job well done she thought to herself. " Bioweapons secured. " She said as she pashed as she looked at the cylinders. " Can you see any data padds around here? " She asked Trass.

'That's a buttload of bioweapon,' Trass observed drily as he went looking for a PADD. Rummaging through what looked like a workspace, he wrenched open a closed drawer. 'Look what we have here,' he replied, waving the PADD in the air as he pivoted back to Fulvia. 'It's got to have an inventory on it.'

Fulvia ran her grey eyes over the padd. Look like they'd.... "Te Iuppiter dique omnes perdant" she blurted out the translator not quite making it. " The human who was just shooting at us, they've been using his blood to synthesise the bio weapon. If this thing had gone off in a public area, the results would have been devastating. "

Glancing back out into the sweltering heat of the day, Trass took a moment to imagine what that could have been like. 'Damn. Drop it in a high-population area. A Core world ... unimaginable.' His face twisted into a smile, sallow eyes lighting up in satisfaction. 'Looks like we did good here for a change.' Running a hand across his bald head, he nodded. 'A good job all round then.'

" Indeed. Let's get this ship up into orbit, meet up with the rest of the team and get out of here. " Replied the manga roman with a grin forming on her face.

Nodding at the woman, Trass made his way through the ship, and found the access ladder to the pilot's cabin. Popping his head through the bulkhead hatch and glanced around quickly. 'Two chair, cramped cockpit. Gonna be on top of each other,' he called down as he hauled himself up and out, and into the pilot's seat. Running his tricorder across the console, he allowed it to overlay the existing controls with shimmering holographic labels in his native Bolian.

A satisfied smile twisted his face once again as he began the start-up sequence. He was looking forward to a nice sonic shower.

Fulvia, having made sure to drag the gang's bodies, weapons into the cargo hold, made sure the hold's blast doors were firmly shut before calling up. " We're ready to go down here."

Cracking his nuckles and the vertebrae in his neck, Trass allowed his fingers to dance across the pilot's board, activating the engine. He found the manual controls - a stick and manual accelerator - to be a refreshing change. Much like other Intel operatives, Trass was cross-trained in at least one other discipline. The Bolian was a passable pilot, and enjoyed this part of the job.

As he eased on the accelerator, the ship's inertial dampers caught up, miliseconds slower than what they would expect on a Starfleet vessel, but still serviceable. Scanning the boards he saw maintenance wasn't a priority, some of the ship's systems being close to red-line. Shrugging, he enjoyed the glide up out of the atmosphere, watching the atmosphere thin as they slipped out into space. Trass felt genuine pleasure, something that didn't come often after all his years in Starfleet. He had circumnavigated the Quadrants more times than he could count in the course of his duties, and it had left him jaded.

Space though, that always got him.

As the captured ship started to break orbit, the runabout that Jason was piloting came alongside on their port side. He then opened a comm channel to the team. "Talley-ho! I see you grabbed your own ride after the party was done. What? You didn't like my flying?" As he said that, he threw the runabout into a corkscrew, orbiting the other ship, keeping his dorsal pointed at them during the entire maneuver, before retaking his earlier position on their port side.

" We need to get this girl into a secure Starfleet shipyard. It has enough bioweapons to take out a good portion of a major core world." Fulvia replied as she slid into the comm console.

Trass muttered something about flyboys under his breath before nodding in acknowledgement of Fulvia's comment. 'Set us a course, Lieutenant Williams can help escort us. Although,' he broke into a grin once more, 'the ship has enough firepower to fend for herself if it comes to it.'

Over the comms, Eden's voice came through, [McKenzie to Fulvia and Trass, We've got him secured and are on our way back to come get you. Be ready.]

'Trass to Eden, negative on that. We found our way off that rock on our own - just need to deliver the goods safely to a secure location. Commander Razka can escort us, over,' Trass replied with a smug sense of satisfaction. He began programming in the warp coordinates for the nearest secure Starfleet facility. 'We'll be back before you know it.'

[McKenzie here, message received. We'll lay a course to rendezvous with Astrea. Safe travels.] Came the response from Eden over comms.

'Aye, aye, Corporal, see you at home,' Trass replied thickly, before gunning the impulse engines to full and arcing out to escape the planet's gravity well.

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