“I must say that I like the new digs,” Chief Petty Officer Ayala Shafir offered as she stepped off the transporter pad onto the deck of the SS Lucre.

“Same name, upgraded body,” smiled Grok, the ever jovial Ferengi freelancer. “We could all use a bit of that… except of course you beautiful ladies.” He glanced at the Vulcan T’Aer on his left, then the cold psychologist Dr. Lisa Hall on his right, and finally at Chief Shafir and the three female Starfleet security officers on the pad. Delightful, all of them. Just delightful.

When Lieutenant Commander Kehlani Koh, chief security officer of the Diligent, realized she was among ‘those ladies’, she shot the Ferengi a dirty look. She did not like one bit how he looked at her, and she could break him. That much she was certain.

Grok either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Instead, he just continued on. “Ayala, get this,” he laughed as he tugged on his lobes. “I noticed the other day my lobes are starting to sag. Can you believe that?! I mean, how disappointing!” Age was starting to catch up with them all. They’d been at this for so many years, and yet sometimes it seemed so little progress had been made. The frontier was still a mess, and now this Vaadwaur situation.

“I can give you a reference to a Son’a surgeon that’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy,” Chief Shafir teased. “But really, this Ju’Day is quite an upgrade over that piece-of-shit trawler we all used to roll around in.” Finally a ship built in the last century, an apt facelift of that old Ferengi freighter they used to fly under the same name.

“We didn’t have a choice,” T’Aer replied as she glared at her Ferengi accomplice. “Not after Grok thought it wise to upset an emotionally compromised Nausicaan.”

“Do they come in any other variety?” Chief Shafir quipped.

“Not that I’ve seen,” shrugged Grok, unphased by the experience of nearly losing his life. “We got out of there alive, and we got this new ship out of it, so who’s complaining?” He patted the Vulcan on the shoulder for she’d been the one complaining. “I know… I know… it wasn’t in this year’s budget, dear, but sometimes you gotta splurge a little.”

T’Aer shot him a glare.

This was all a jolly good time, Dr. Lisa Hall thought to herself, but Kyban wasn’t going to come to them. “Ahem,” she said, clearing her throat to get their attention. “I think introductions are in order, and then we really ought to get going.” She was used to their antics by now, but it didn’t change the clock. They had a timeline to make.  “There’ll be plenty of time to shoot the shit after we get rolling.”

“You never are any fun, Miss Hall,” Grok shook his head. “Sometimes you just gotta take a moment to smell the roses.” Not that anyone had ever brought the frigid woman roses.

Dr. Hall glared at him unamused.

“But yes, I suppose you’re right,” Grok relented, turning to the Starfleet officers on the pad. “I’m Grok, your quartermaster, pilot and entertainer for this voyage.” He flourished his hand and took a bow, before turning to his Vulcan partner. “And this darling that you’ve already met is T’Aer, and I promise you, her bite is worse than her bark. She’ll shoot the wings off a florka with one eye shut.” Really, T’Aer was the captain of this vessel and the CEO of their private logistics company, but what were such technicalities?

“Don’t think we’ll need quite that level of precision,” Lieutenant Commander Keaton Ryder volunteered, trying to at least make pleasant conversation with the weird pair. “But as long as you can plaster Vaadwaur brain-goop on a wall, you’ll be fine by me, ma’am,”

“For plastering brain-goop on the walls, you may find yourself fond of Cassius Stone, our master-at-arms. He’s the big guy you may see stalking around belowdeck,” Grok just kept on going, enjoying himself a bit too much. “Him and his spunky side chick, Mara Selene. The blue haired devil is our bosun, and she may look tiny, but have no doubt. She’ll carve you up.” There were rumors about her as to why she was expelled from Starfleet Academy. “They’ll both be joining your little adventure, along with T’Aer.”

Lieutenant Commanders Ryder and Koh glanced at each other. Neither was quite sure how they felt about that. Fleet Admiral Reyes had not mentioned anything about the civilians joining up as part of their team.

“And then down in engineering is also Gunnar Androvski,” Grok concluded. “He’s the one that always looks like he’s about to smack you for a bad idea.” He was damn good at his job. He could keep a ship running no matter what the rest of them put it through, but he had quite an attitude on him.

“I think it’s just you he’s about to smack upside the head, my friend,” Chief Shafir teased.

“Eh, maybe that’s why T’Aer convinced him to sign on with us,” Grok laughed as he glanced over at the Vulcan again. She raised an eyebrow, just enough to confirm his supposition. “And yeah, that’s about it for our motley crew.”

Standing around the cramped transporter bay, the Starfleet officers looked mildly concerned. What a strange group they’d been sent to link up with.

As if sensing their discomfort, Chief Shafir offered some reassurance to her colleagues. “Don’t mind Grok, here. This group, I’d be dead many times over if not for them.” They still didn’t look fully satisfied, but what could she do? “Alright, well we might as well do some intros on our side too.” She gestured first to the chiefs.

The senior security head went first. “Lieutenant Commander Keaton Ryder, Chief Security Officer, USS Polaris.”

His partner from the Diligent went next. “Lieutenant Commander Kehlani Koh, Chief Security Officer, USS Diligent.”

And then in turn, the rest of the team went around introducing themselves, eight junior officers and NCOs that Ryder and Koh had selected for this mission. They weren’t nice, and they didn’t all have the most spotless records, but compared to these folks, they looked clean as a whistle.

Once the introductions were done, T’Aer pulled out a pair of PADDs and passed them to the pair of security chiefs. “Cover stories, fully arranged. We’re out of Adelphous IV bearing shipments of duranium, magnesite and bilitrium, all in high demand for their war effort. We’ve already called ahead and confirmed delivery with the Vaadwaur in exchange for a fair sum of latinum.” Almost enough to make up the difference.

“They’re paying for goods?” Lieutenant Commander Ryder asked. It was odd to think given the fact their forces had struck and occupied dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds across Federation space. Could they not just compel the local populaces for what they need?

“Contrary to how it may feel to you, the enemy seemingly everywhere, but they are stretched thin,” Grok explained, suddenly seeming far more astute than his earlier antics had made him out to be. “Taking and holding territory is a labor-intensive operation, and where they can simply proffer easy-to-commandeer currencies in exchange for goods they need, it saves them from having to spend more manpower on indenturing additional mining operations.”

“This has led to independent mercantile operations being a key source of intelligence for the current disposition of Vaadwaur forces,” Dr. Hall added. “Throughout this crisis, we have been collecting information from them and passing it back up to Fourth Fleet Command.”

Lieutenant Commander Ryder nodded, admittedly a bit impressed. Maybe there was more to this ragtag bunch than he’d initially given them credit for.

But next to him, Lieutenant Commander Koh looked a bit more skeptical as she read through the manifest. Each of the items they were delivering to the Vaadwaur would be actually valuable to a navy at war. The duranium could be used to repair damaged hull plating on their warships, the magnesite for reducing sensor signatures, and the bilitrium for explosives production. “Don’t you worry how they’re going to use this stuff? That we’re supplying them with goods that will be used against our people?”

“They’re not going to accept a shipment of gree-worms and children’s novels,” Dr. Hall pointed out. “It must have sufficient utility, or we’re not getting down there.”

“At least not in one piece,” Grok chimed in. “And I promised T’Aer I wouldn’t break another ship… this year, at least.”

The Vulcan ignored the comment and instead just doubled down on its actual purpose. “Due to its sensor-blocking properties, the crates of magnesite, which we’ve hollowed out in the inside, will allow the smuggling of human cargo. That cargo being you.”

“Why don’t we just don some civvie clothes and masquerade as members of your crew?” Lieutenant Commander Koh asked. She’d done undercover work before, and how hard could this be? It seemed easier than climbing into a claustrophobic crate of crusty ore.

“Our enemy is not stupid,” Dr. Hall cautioned. “If they come aboard and find a dozen and a half trim, fit, military age folks aboard, it will raise suspicion.” It certainly would for her. “We also have reason to believe they have access to Starfleet personnel systems, and if our experience holds consistent to the experience other merchant crews have described, they will come aboard for an inspection before they allow us off-ship.”

“Plus, don’t take this the wrong way, Commander,” T’Aer added. “But I can smell the Starfleet coming off of you.”

“Just trust us,” Grok closed. “This is what we do. Let us do our thing, and then you do you.”