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[ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Hotel Room | Casperia Prime ] 
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"Come in Lieutenant," the man ordered after opening the door and seeing his subordinate standing there. "Have a seat. I trust your time off was well spent."

"Quite, sir," Donna replied as she entered the room, choosing a comfortable on the sofa that sat against one wall. "Thank you for the recommendation. Casperia Prime is everything they say it is. And different enough from Risa that I don't feel like I am at home."

"I forgot that you are from Risa," the man responded after closing the door.

"Easy enough to do, sir," Donna said as the man moved across the room and sat at the desk. "I don't look like I'm from Risa."

"Indeed," the man acknowledged as he picked up a PADD. "To business then. I need you to go undercover."

"Alias?" Donna asked calmly.

"One you have used before. The arms dealer, Maxine Gentry," the man replied equally as calm. "The Maquis are always in the market, as you know, but with the recent rumours of a coup on Cardassia, it seems they are looking to expand their seller's list."

"The mission, sir?" Donna asked.

"Meet with the Maquis and establish yourself as someone who could help them. Details are on the PADD," the man said as he held out the item in question. 

"Understood, sir," Donna said as she accepted the PADD. "Transportation?"

"Specifics are in there," the man replied. "But you'll be dealing with Phrang."

"Makes things.... interesting," Donna noted.

"Indeed," the man accepted. "Be careful Lieutenant. No one will know of your mission."

"So the usual then," Donna pointed out. "And I always live by rule 190, sir. Hear all, trust nothing."


Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #1 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Public Plaza | Casperia Prime ] 
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“Will that be all, ma’am?” the Bolian waiter asked after setting her drink down on the table next to her.

“Yes, thank you,” Donna replied without looking as she scanned the crowd behind her sunglasses. After her briefing that morning, she had returned to her hotel room and read over the PADD provided to her to review and memorise the information within. After several hours of that, she had replicated appropriate clothing and checked out. Now, she waited in a public plaza on the other side of the planet for the Caitian rogue named Phrang.

Maxine ‘Max’ Gentry, a human female that had entered the arms trade after her father had died smuggling weapons himself. She was cold to almost everyone she met and acted like the world owed her. In short, she was a bitch.

When she had helped to assemble the identity, Donna had put a lot of herself into the backstory. Or rather, a lot of what she could have been. So, all she had to do was act exactly the opposite to how she did now.

“How have you been Max?” purred a voice from behind her. Donna forced herself not to reacted as the chair on the other side of the table was pulled out and a tall, Caitian male sat down.

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #2 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Public Plaza | Casperia Prime ]
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“Busy, busy, you know me Phrang,” Donna/Max replied to the Caitian, taking a last look around the plaza before turning to face the man. Max guessed he stood about 1.9 metres in height and around 80-90kgs in weight. His fur was a solid silvery-grey colour all over with it being darker around his mane. His general body shape paired with his colouring matched him to the ‘mountain’ subspecies of the Caitian phenotype. “Nice coat.”

“Thanks, I just bought it,” Phrang replied as he fiddled with the colour of the jade duster.

“Bit warm for it isn’t it?” Max wondered idly, looking around again as she sipped her drink.

“Why Max, I didn’t know you cared about me,” Phrang jibed playfully, his grin showing off his teeth. “And I could ask you the same question. What with your customary leather jacket.”

“I don’t care about you any more than I have to. You’re my transportation,” Max shot back, glaring across the table. “Is your freighter here?”

“I got a new ship which I think you’ll love,” Phrang answered casually. “And one of these days, you and I are going to have a sit down and talk about me being just your transportation.”

“If you say so,” Max said dismissively.

“If you’d be so kind as to stand then,” Phrang requested as he himself stood. When Max had stood up herself and picked up the duffel that had been sitting under the table, Phrang spoke again. “Vadaa, two to beam up.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #3 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Phrang's Ship | Casperia Prime ] 
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When Max rematerialised, she almost panicked at the distinctive appearance of a Klingon ship. As it was, her hand had slipped inside the side pocket of her bag where she kept a small, easily concealed hold-out phaser. The only thing that kept her from pulling it was Phrang speaking as he stepped off the transporter pad.

“So, what do you think?” he asked without looking back at her.

“It’s Klingon,” Max said bluntly.

“She’s a smart one isn’t she,” Vadaa said from the transporter controls nearby. Max had met her the last time she had dealt with Phrang but they hadn’t spoken much.

“Smart enough to know that you don’t just find a Klingon ship lying around,” Max shot back, her words accompanied by a searing glare. “Evening if it is a small one, which I’m guessing this one is.” Vadaa said nothing, simply taking a step towards Max until her second one was stopped by Phrang’s arm.

“Is having her on board going to be a problem?” Phrang asked, his voice dropping to an almost growl. “Because she is paying me, and I pay you.” He left unspoken the rest of the sentence; it was obvious to everyone what he meant.

“No, it won’t be a problem,” Vadaa replied calmly, staring at Max.

“Excellent,” Phrang noted, his voice returning to a jovial purr. “Could you get the ship ready to depart please. I’m going to show Max the ship.” Vadaa said nothing as she turned and walked away. Max saw her step into a turbolift shaft and disappear upwards. “Are you going to be fine with her around?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Max responded calmly.

“Good, I’d hate to have to take drastic measures,” Phrang remarked as he turned to face his guest once more. “Welcome aboard the Jade Falcon.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #4 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | Casperia Prime ] 
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"So how much do you know about the B’rel class of Bird-of-Prey,” Phrang asked as they stood on the walkway between the twin cargo storage areas.

“They are relatively small, yet overpowered attack craft with a crew of about a dozen,” Max answered easily. Everyone knew about the most common class of Bird-of-Prey. 

“That’s about the gist of it,” Phrang confirmed easily. “109 meters long, 167 wide with a draft of 29. She has 6 decks and usually has a crew of 9-12. The Falcon though only has 8.”

“Automation?” Max asked casually.

“No need,” Phrang replied. “This isn’t a warship Max. I only fight to escape. And I have a cloaking device to help with that.”

“True,” Max remarked. “How does a Caitian rogue end up with a Bird-of-Prey anyway?”

“I prefer to think of myself as an independent contractor, Max. Just like you,” Phrang corrected his companion. “And in a Klingon surplus yard. The weapons I had to purchase of a Ferengi named Gaila, but they are the genuine articles. Fore and aft photon torpedo launchers, dual Type 3 Disruptor Cannons and 5 Type 1s.”

“Wait, a B’rel only has 4 Type 1s,” Max objected. 

“Correct,” Phrang confirmed. “The fifth is my surprise for those that try to follow me without an invitation. The Falcon, and B’rels in general are excellent dogfighters but it never hurts to have a litle something extra. Now, would you like a tour?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #5 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | Casperia Prime ] 
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"And lastly, the bridge," Phrang said as he and Max entered the room. "The room itself is pretty self-explanatory." For the last hour, Phrang had played the courteous host and given her a tour of his ship. In truth, it didn't seem much different from a standard Klingon B'rel but the devil, as they say, was in the details.

All the consoles throughout the entire ship had been replaced with a more generic option available throughout the quadrant. This simultaneously made repairs easier down the road while also allowing the computer systems to be worked on so that they displayed something other than Klingonese.

"Bit more modification done here though," Max noted as she looked around the Falcon's control room. "All the stations have been modified or outright replaced. New viewscreen. And what looks like a new captain's chair?"

"The old one didn't accommodate my tail at all," Phrang pointed out with a toothy grin.

"I can only imagine," Max retorted.

"Well, I think it is time that we got on with things," Phrang observed as he took his seat on the bridge.

"About time," Vadaa quipped.

"Now, now. Haste makes waste," Phrang noted. "Set a course for the Bajoran System. Warp 7."

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #6 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Deep Space Nine ] 
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As Max sat on the edge of the bunk Phrang had given her, her thoughts drifted as she reviewed the day she had had so far. The mission seemed simple enough. Infiltrate the Macquis by posing as an arms dealer. Earn their trust while simultaneously determining who the other buys were. She knew they wouldn’t all be apprehended immediately. To do that would blow her cover. But some of them would be while the rest would have their movements tracked.

Max hadn’t bothered to unpack; what would be the point? She wouldn’t be aboard long enough to get comfortable. After she arrived at Deep Space Nine and determined how to contact the Macquis, they might very well have their own transport arrangements that she would have to adhere to.

Her thoughts were disrupted by a knock on the bulkhead and Max forced herself to stand and move over to open the door. To her surprise, she found Phrang standing there, his arms folded behind his back casually.

“How do you like your quarters?” the Caitian male asked calmly.

“They’ll do for the time I’m aboard,” Max replied curtly, feeling uneasy about his presence.

“Wonderful,” Phrang acknowledged, grinning. “Do you have a moment to talk? There is something I feel that we need to discuss.”

“It’s your ship,” Max pointed out as she stepped back into the room, moving to sit on her bunk once again. Behind her, Phrang entered the room and closed the bulkhead behind him. “So, what do you want to discuss?” Max wondered as she leaned back against the wall, a picture of calmness.

“You, my dear Max,” Phrang said with toothy grin, his arms once more folded behind his back. “Or would you prefer I address you as Lieutenant?"

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #7 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Bajoran System ] 
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“Are you promoting me Phrang?” Max wondered curiously from her position leaned against the wall. Her weapons, save for a blade in her boot, were all stowed in her bag. And getting into a knife fight with a Caitian was not a smart idea if one had a choice. It wasn’t that she thought that she couldn’t kill him if she needed too. It was that she would suffer severe injuries in the process. And this was his ship and his crew. “From guest to crew?”

“Hardly my dear,” Phrang replied calmly as he stayed where he was. “While I don’t doubt that your particular skillset would make a fine addition to the crew of the ‘Falcon’, I’m afraid you are already employed by another party.”

“He can’t possibly know. The security around my identity is so tight even half of Starfleet Headquarters has no idea I exist,” Max considered as she looked at the Caitian captain where he stood. He hadn’t moved since he had entered and appeared to be completely at ease with their discussion. “I employ myself Phrang. I’m too mean to work for anyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure Max is as mean as you say, Lieutenant,” Phrang said, again addressing her using her rank. “But she is just one of the hats you wear for your true employer; Starfleet Intelligence.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #8 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Bajoran System ]
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Max stood perfectly still as her mind raced over her options. She was unarmed, cornered and completely exposed if she was to believe everything that Phrang was saying. Which was becoming increasingly easier to do as everything he was saying was the truth. And that just made him more dangerous. Taking a step back, Donna prepared to spring off the wall behind her to take the Caitian by surprise, hopefully. It was a fool’s plan, but it was the only one she had in the confines of the compartment.

“Easy now Max,” Phrang urged as he held his hands up defensively and stepped back. “I didn’t come looking for trouble. Quite the opposite in fact.”

“Really!” Max exclaimed. “You come in here and accuse me of working for Starfleet Intelligence and still claim to not want trouble?” Max questioned, trying to stay in character. “You must have forgotten who I am.”

“I haven’t forgotten at all,” Phrang argued calmly. “I came in here, unarmed I might add, because I both need your help and want to offer mine in return.”

“Let’s say, for shits and giggles, that I am who you think I am,” Max offered, trying to buy time to think. “How is it I am meant to help you and you are to help me?”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #9 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine ‘Max’ Gentry | Guest Quarters | Jade Falcon ]
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"It’s a relatively simple concept even if the details are not,” Phrang described without moving from his position. “In exchange for my assisting your boss from time to time, he will ensure that my brother’s career in Starfleet is not inhibited in any way.”

“You’re doing this to give your brother a leg up?” Max asked incredulously. “You must be pretty sure I am who you think I am.”

“I am quite sure, my dear,” Phrang confirmed calmly yet with a definitive tone to his words. “Now, would you care to relax and have a seat so we can speak comfortably or would you prefer we stand here, at odds until we reach Deep Space 9 and you can contact your superior?”

“Smart ass,” Max accused mentally. “If he is being truthful, then he would know I only have an emergency channel available to me. And if he is lying, then I’m dead if I use it. Fuck, I hate catch-22s.”

“You still haven’t told you why I should trust you, Phrang,” Max pointed out.

“True, I have given you no reason to. But,” Phrang began but was cut off by a beep that snapped Max’s head around to her bags. “You might want to check that.”

“What the fuck,” Max thought as she moved to her bags while making sure the Phrang kept his hands where she could see them. “That was from my emergency beacon,” Max said as she reached into and rooted around her bag until she could pull it out. Flipping it open, she glanced at the screen in astonishment.

RULE #190 DOESN’T APPLY HERE

“Well shit,” Max noted audibly.

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #10 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Bajoran System ] 
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"I take it from your reaction that that was a message from your superior confirming my sincerity?” Phrang asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. When Max didn’t immediately reply, Phrang considered moving to sit down on one of the empty beds but decided that the floor right where he was was a safer, more considerate option. He guessed that Max’s, or whatever her name really was, head was probably spinning and there was no sense in startling her.

“Well Phrang, that’s twice today that you have surprised me,” Max noted as she put the beacon back into her bag. “First with having the Jade Falcon as your new ship and now with this,” she said, choosing not to voice specifically what they both now knew.

“I aim to please, my dear,” Phrang responded placatingly as the end of his tail twitched beside him.

“Who else knows?” Max queried calmly, forcing herself to stay cool. The beacon could only be accessed by one man and that same man had referenced a conversation they had had that very morning. Without speaking to him directly, which she couldn’t without breaking cover, then she no option but to trust the veracity of the message.

“No one but me,” Phrang answered. “And I would like to keep it that way for the time being. I trust my crew with my life. But I’m not sure about them working for your boss.”

“Fair call,” Max conceded. “So, what do we do now?”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #11 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Bajoran System ]
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"Well, if I am to help you, then it would behove you to tell me what it is we are now going to be trying to do,” Phrang replied, folding his hands into his lap. “Otherwise I might zig, when I should zag; to quote a Terran idiom."

“He has a point,” Max considered as she looked at the Caitian. She had once thought of him as nothing more than a pirate and a rogue but was now forced to reconsider that evaluation. “Even if I am uncomfortable with how this mission is going, if he is to help me, then he needs to know the objectives.”

“As you know, the Maquis are in need of weapons in their fight against the Cardassians,” Max began.

“As they always are,” Phrang interjected.

“Indeed,” Max confirmed. “Well, we, are to get into their good graces and find out everything we can. Locations, procedures, other buyers. Anything and everything.”

“But of course. Starfleet doesn’t like to leave things out. Even when it would be more prudent to do just that,” Phrang accepted calmly. Max could tell that there was a memory behind that statement but didn’t think she’d get anything out of him at this point. “How do we contact the Maquis?”

“We don’t,” Max revealed. “My information has me to get to Deep Space 9 and wait. The Maquis will find me.”

“Perfect,” Phrang deadpanned, resting his head back against the wall behind him. “Just Perfect.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #12 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Jade Falcon | En Route To Bajoran System ]
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“I didn’t make the mission, Phrang,” Max retorted to her companion’s apparent dissatisfaction with their objective. “I just complete them.”

“Hmm,” Phrang grumbled. “And do you think that we will be able to complete this one?”

“I don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t. It is simple enough,” Max noted. “We arrive at DS9. Meet out contact and get the location for a meet. Attend the meet and scope out everything and everyone there.”

“And if the Cardassians try to interfere?” Phrang enquired curiously. “Or Starfleet?”

“Starfleet shouldn’t but if they do, we will be arrested and transferred to ‘another facility’. After that, I’m not sure,” Max explained, herself uneasy with that response. There were rumours in their department that some agents, after being caught, languished in a prison cell before their release was organised. And no one would take bets on if it was deliberate or not. “And if the Cardassians get involved, I am to treat them as a member of the Maquis would. And not get caught.”

“Now that would be embarrassing. A Starfleet Intelligence operative caught killing Cardassians for the Maquis,” Phrang mimed before climbing to his feet.

“You’re leaving?” Max wondered. She had thought he’d stay longer.

“You have told me all that you can share reliably at this point. I would hope if anything changes that I would then be informed,” Phrang replied casually.

“Of course,” Max said.

“Then I will leave you now to do what you will while I see that we get to DS9 without delay,” Phrang declared. “Good afternoon.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #13 –
Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | USS Rio Grande | Bajoran System ]
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“Couldn’t we have picked a faster route to get to the station?” Phrang wondered as he shifted in the seat once again. It was the fourth time that he had moved in the last 20 minutes. “These seats weren’t built for someone with a tail.”

“It was you that said they were concerned about their ship being detected by the station’s sensors,” Max pointed out as she lounged with her eyes closed. “This was the next best option. Unless you wanted to catch a freighter from another system?”

“Not my idea of a good time, Max,” Phrang deadpanned as something caught his eye out the window.

“Then stop thinking about it,” Max urged. “We’ll be there soon enough.”

“We won’t be the only ones pulling up,” Phrang said, his voice even. “Take a look.” Max opened her eyes and looked out the window that Phrang indicated and saw something that she really didn’t want to see.

“That’s got to be the Negh’Var that was mentioned in the last intelligence assessment I read,” Max thought to herself. “It’s definitely Klingon and it’s bigger than any other ship of theirs that I know of.”

“Well, having a bunch of Klingons around certainly makes….by the stars!” Phrang uttered as an entire fleet of Klingon warships began to decloak around Deep Space Nine.

“Interesting indeed,” Max finished.

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #14 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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“Is it just me or do the Klingons look like they are searching for something?” Phrang asked as he lent against the railing, his tail swaying through the air behind him.

“I think they are doing the same thing we are. Scoping the station out,” Max replied as she watched the Klingons moving to and fro on the station’s promenade. So far they hadn’t done anything besides move around in pairs and small groups but she wondered how long that would last. “They are Klingons after all; they need a cloaking device to be subtle about anything.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Phrang agreed. “Did you notice the Cardassian in the replimat?”

“I did. His name is Elim Garak and he is apparently a tailor aboard the station,” Max described, her eyes finding the man in question as he spoke to someone in a Bajoran uniform. She couldn’t see who it was from her position but she had a feeling given what she could see.

“You don’t honestly believe that he is ‘just’ a tailor,” Phrang wondered as he watched the pair of Klingons that had been circling the upper level descend to meet with a group on the main level.

“A Cardassian on a Bajoran station run by Starfleet,” Max described, her voice deadpan. “I’m sure he is an excellent tailor. And it also seems that our Klingon companions have grown tired of just looking around.”

“I wonder why they chose the Lurian? This is the first I’ve seen him outside of that bar since we came aboard,” Phrang observed as he watched the drama unfold below.

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #15 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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“They seem to be in a hurry,” Phrang noted as he leaned against the railing. Below him, several of the station’s senior staff were hurrying along the Promenade having just exited the lift from the command level. “I wonder where they are off to.”

“The Defiant would be my bet,” Max offered as she came up alongside her Caitian companion. They had separated to have a look around the station to see if they could find anything interesting. “The Klingons probably have ships out doing the same thing they are doing here on the station; interdicting and inspecting anything they want.”

“That is not going to go over well with either the local Bajorans or the Federation,” Phrang observed, his tail swaying behind him. “Anything interesting on your walk?”

“Only that a Klingon named Drex, along with several others, assaulted the Cardassian Garak in his shop after their run in earlier,” Max revealed casually. “And that he has apparently declined to press charges.”

“And how did you find out that?” Phrang wondered.

“I asked nicely,” Max retorted.

“I’ll bet,” Phrang remarked.

“Miss Gentry, Captain Phrang,” a voice addressed them from behind. Turning about, the two saw a Starfleet ensign standing behind them. “Would the two of you accompany me please. There is someone that would like to speak with you.”

“Do we have a choice?” Max asked calmly, unsure where this interaction was headed.

“Of course,” the woman retorted. “Although you would be the poorer for it if you didn’t follow me. This way please.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #16 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Habitat Ring | Deep Space 9 ] 
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“Aren’t you worried about station security?” Phrang asked as the three of them walked down one of the passageways of the station’s habitat ring. 

“Not overly,” the ensign replied as he turned a corner. “Constable Odo, while training them well, has them looking for external threats. And with the Klingons about, his officers are stretched rather thin.”

“So, you’re taking advantage of the situation,” Max noted.

“Of course,” the ensign confirmed. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Perhaps I would,” Max confirmed, speaking for the first time since leaving the Promenade. “Do you have any information about why the Klingons are here?”

“Nothing definitive. Just rumours and educated guesses,” the ensign replied as he stopped before a door. “The person inside will be able to answer your questions,” the ensign said dismissively before turning to depart.

“Well, he spoke a lot and said nothing at all,” Phrang observed quietly after the officer had turned a corner and vanished from sight.

“Indeed,” Max agreed. “That speaks of training and experience.”

“What are you thinking?” Phrang wondered.

“That the Maquis are a lot more organised than we have been led to believe,” Max observed calmly, glancing at the sealed door. “Wouldn’t be the first time in history that has happened. Probably won’t be the last either. Shall we?”

“Ladies first,” Phrang replied, sweeping his away across his body in a gentlemanly fashion.

“How kind of you,” Max deadpanned.

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #17 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Unknown Quarters | Habitat Ring | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"Miss Maxine Gentry and Captain Phrang,” a male voice called to them as they stepped into the main area of the quarters. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation to join me here. As much as I enjoy the atmosphere at Quark’s, the general feeling on the station is uneasy at the moment and I have chosen to enjoy refreshments in my quarters more often of late. Can I get you anything?”

“Rum, chilled,” Max responded politely, trying to get a glimpse of the owner of the voice. Unfortunately, they had their back to the two new arrivals as they worked at something on one of the benches in the kitchen area.

“Same for me please,” Phrang chimed in. “I’ve come to enjoy the taste since Max introduced me to it."

“How interesting. I might join you then. Please, have a seat,” they directed before raising a hand to the replicator set into the wall next to them. “Three rums, chilled.” As the replicator set to work, the man went back to his task.

“So how do you like the station’s newest guests?” the man asked.

“They are entertaining at the moment,” Max offered calmly, taking a seat that afforded her a view of both the door and the window. “We’ll see if they stay that way.”

“Indeed we will.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #18 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Unknown Quarters | Habitat Ring | Deep Space 9 ]
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"Miss Gentry, those I represent would like to know what you can offer us that would make them risk inviting an outsider into their midst,” the man asked after contemplating his drink silently for several minutes. “We have been greatly hurt in the past by those pretending to be an ally when they were, in fact, an enemy. Why should we trust you?”

“That is a good question,” Max responded, setting her drink down before staring at the man. “But you know as well as I do that the only things I can give you are my reputation and my word. Neither of which could be considered a hard guarantee.”

“I could try to bargain or extort you with examples or detailings of my inventory or what I can obtain but what would be the point of that besides tipping my hand to a potential buyer,” Max pointed out calmly. She’d been through similar situations before and expected to do so again. “On the flipside, you could simply say that you don’t like what I’m offering or that you don’t trust me. But all that does is lose you a supplier.”

“Besides, we both know that wherever you decide to hold this meeting of buyers and leaders, it won’t be one of your bases. It will be some abandoned rock in the middle of nowhere,” Max declared, her voice unchanged from the beginning. “All this is built on trust and faith. The only question is how much of it do you have because I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have enough of it to place in you.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #19 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Unknown Quarters | Habitat Ring | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"You make a compelling argument for an arms dealer, Miss Gentry,” the man observed after taking a sip of his rum. “Everything you said was accurate, concise and answered my question completely without actually answering it at all. Are you sure you are not a lawyer of some kind?”

“Not a chance,” Phrang scoffed loudly, trying not to laugh or spill his drink.

“The only time I care about the law is when it gets in my way,” Max responded with an evil smile. “And then I generally ignore it anyway. I imagine you have a similar outlook on it and its uses. Given you situation.”

“Quite so,” the man concurred, setting his own drink on the table. “I believe that concludes our discussions for the moment. If you will stay aboard the station for a few days, I will be in touch regarding your involvement in any business arrangements with my associates. I wish you a pleasant afternoon.”

“I hope you won’t take too long,” Phrang commented as he set his drink only the table next to the other two. “Stagnant cargo doesn’t pay.”

“We shall see,” the man said, waving an arm towards the door. “Please, after you.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #20 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Quark’s Bar | The Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"How was your trip?” Max asked as she set her drink back down on the table. She was enjoying the locally made Bajoran beer the establishment’s owner, a Ferengi named Quark, had imported from Bajor, probably to appeal to the Bajoran security detachment assigned to the station. In her time spent waiting for further communication from the Maquis aboard the station, she had had time to study many of those who called the facility home, helping her to better gauge how they might react to various outcomes. And the Ferengi, he was a shrewd one. It would only be a passing scheme, an idle thought for him to import a locally made alcohol to try and further his business.

“Calm enough,” Phrang replied as he sat down next to the Terran female. “At least this trip won’t have been a complete waste of time. And if there is much more waiting to be done, I have other jobs lined up that I can sign on for,” the Caitian explained. Having naught to do but wait, the good captain had accepted a freight job from Bajor to a nearby system. It kept him from being totally bored, made him some latinum and prevented him from causing too much trouble on the station. “Made a tidy profit of 10 bars of latinum.”

“Not bad,” Max mused, her attention distracted by a Klingon at the bar grumbling that his bloodwine was cold and demanding another. And his booming complaint had drawn the attention of another individual as well; someone whom Max had been most surprised to see arrive aboard Deep Space Nine. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Phrang asked, taking not of Max’s distraction and turning to see what had drawn the woman’s attention.

“It is,” Max confirmed, watching as Lieutenant Commander Worf provoked Drex, son of Martok and summarily defeated him as if he was schooling a child. “Now things get interesting.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #21 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Security Office | The Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"See, I told you he started it,” Max declared to the Changeling Security Chief seated on the other side of the console.

“Yes, it seems that we have confirmed your statement,” Constable Odo replied, gazing at the Terran female seated opposite. “But what we have not been able to confirm is why you are present aboard this station at all. You have given no firm reason why a woman with your, history, would choose to visit, and then remain aboard, the station during the current turbulent times. Would you care to enlighten me?”

“What can I say, I like to be where the action is,” Max retorted, knowing that the Constable was attempting to extract information before he was forced to release her. And she was not going to cooperate with him in the slightest. “May I go?”

“You may,” Odo confirmed, with Max standing as soon as the words had been voiced. “But I caution you, stay out of trouble and avoid the Klingons from now on. Or you and I will be seeing each other again.”

“Whatever you say,” Max shot back before walking out of the Security Office. Looking around, she saw Phrang waiting for her on the upper level and she headed in his direction, wanting an update on what she had missed during her five hours in a holding cell after the brawl. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Martok came aboard to meet with Sisko,” Phrang answered. “Judging by how he was walking back to the transporter, it did not go well.”

“I wonder what they were dis...” Max began, her words dying off as she noticed movement from the Klingon ships surrounding the station. Almost as one, they all turned and began to move away, their cloaks activating as they departed. “I wonder where they are all off to.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #22 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Replimat | The Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"My sources tell me that the Klingon invasion force has begun to meet stiffer resistance now that the Cardassian fleet has begun to mobilise,” Phrang briefed Max as the two of them sat in the replimat eating. The atmosphere on the station had taken on a nervous undertone as the uncertainty of the situation began to permeate throughout. “The Klingons are going to have to start earning their victories.”

“So it seems,” Max agreed, thinking about the consequences that this invasion would have for her mission. She had yet to be contacted regarding its status in any way, so her current orders stood; she was to attempt to contact the Maquis and determine a way to ingratiate herself with them. “Any word on Cardassian losses?”

“Nothing new since I told you about them losing their outer colonies,” Phrang answered. “Information is getting harder to come by as time goes by.”

“It’ll get worse before it gets better,” Max mused. “And that is before Sisko does something to intervene.”

“You think he will?” Phrang asked, eyeing his Terran companion.

“He seems like the type of man that would,” Max noted, her tone reflective. “I don’t envy the position the Captain is currently in right now. Not one bit.”

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #23 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Upper Level | The Promenade | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"Anything?” Phrang asked as he stepped up next to Max on the upper level of the Promenade where she was looking out at the stars.

“The quarters were empty. And the system says they were vacated about an hour after the Klingons departed for Cardassian space,” Max revealed, her tone low and annoyed. “We’ve been waiting here, twiddling our thumbs while our primary contact had departed the station. All we have left is that Ensign but again, I cannot seem to be able to locate him. Not having their name isn’t helping either.”

“No names does make it harder to track so you can understand why he did not provide it,” Phrang pointed out calmly. “Why don’t we go down to Quarks? I doubt that Ferengi would leave the station so easily.”

“You’re right, and I am not in the mood for a drink right now. My gut is telling me that I need to stay alert,” Max replied, her voice more even now as she accepted the reality of the situation. “Your ship?”

“I sent the Falcon away, deeper into Federation space,” Phrang answered uncomfortably. He didn’t like being away from his ship, but the circumstances of the mission meant that he needed to remain with Max for the moment. “They’ll stay there until I call for them. Or have confirmation of my death.”

“That’s very considerate of your crew to wait until you die before they abandon you,” Max derided, not used to such loyalty.

“It is why I chose them,” Phrang revealed, confident in his crew’s loyalty. “Look!”

“Well, that’s just peachy!” Max observed as she watched the Defiant return to the station, damaged and with Klingons in pursuit. 

Re: [ Mission Log #007 | Stardate: Classified | Year: 2372 ]

Reply #24 –
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Alias: Maxine Gentry | Emergency Shelter | Deep Space 9 ] 
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"You know,” Max muttered as the two of them joined the remainder of the civilians aboard the station in one of the emergency shelters prepared for them. “I am really starting to think I need a new career choice.” She, and Phrang by association, had received a baleful glare from the Changling Constable Odo, but he had said nothing as he supervised their being secured. He had arrived with a particularly annoyed looking Ferengi. Max remembered his name was Quark and that he had been the proprietor of the bar that they had frequented during their time aboard.

“What are you thinking Max?” Phrang wondered, at a loss at what to do while they waited for the deteriorating situation to play out while wishing that he had chosen to wait on his ship instead of with Max. “Someplace warm and far from the borders?”

“Nah, I’d miss the excitement,” Max retorted, calmer than she appeared. “But I wouldn’t mind having my own warp drive at my disposal and a crew of my own I could trust,” she mused. “Would certainly save me from being stuck in situations like this. With no way to get out of them. What do you say Phrang, in the mood to sell your ship? I promise I will look after it.”

“Not a chance Max,” Phrang fire back just as the station shook around them as the Klingons appeared to fire on them.
 
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