A Wink and a promise

Posted on Tue May 26th, 2015 @ 3:36am by Winset-Kelix ‘Winkel’ Mar-Abek [N'alae] & N'alae t’K’manatran

2,006 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Trader Games
Location: Federation territory - coordinates classified
Timeline: back-post

“Incoming transmission.” An attractive female voice sounded in the darkness. Winkel scowled and opened one eye a crack. It was late, or maybe it was early, either way he had been asleep.

“Ignore it.” He grumbled at the computer and rolled over onto his side.

“Incoming transmission,” The computer said again. He was about to tell it where it could put that transmission, but it added, “On a priority channel.”

Pausing to reconsider his suggestion, Winkle instead asked, “Source?”

“Unknown. It’s encoded.” The computer replied in a slightly sulky female tone. That definitely had his attention. He had programmed the computer to handle just about any type of transmission code. Whoever was on the other end of that communication was taking extra precautions.

Winkle rolled out of bed and stumbled as his foot caught on some unseen object on the floor. He winced and sourly commanded the computer to turn on the lights. “Low” he added. The room illuminated with a muted blue hue, revealing bits of disassembled tech, tools and half-finished projects scattered about in apparent disarray in the tiny quarters. Winkel knew where everything was however, with the exception of the hyperspanner he had stepped on. He glowered down at the offending tool trying to remember why it was there. He had been working tinkering with a refurbished veteron phase controller, which lay on a cluttered table near the bed. The spanner must have rolled off while we was sleeping.

Sidestepping his way to the desk, he slumped into the chair. “Alright, lets have it.” At the last second he tried in vain to straighten the mess of this long and beaded hair, on the off-chance that whoever was on the other end might consider themselves important. Appearances apparently had weight in business discussions. He was unprepared, however, for the familiar female face that greeted him on the screen.

“Hello Winkel.” N’alae said to the bleary-eyed Rigelian. She was not surprised in the least by Winkel’s rumbled appearance. In the time they had known each other, he had often been in need of a good scrub.

“N’alae!” Winkel grumbled. “You better have a reason for waking me up girl.”

The look she gave him was one of pure innocence. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” She said. Winkel didn’t believe for a second that she cared if he had been sleeping or not.

“Huh, sure.” He glowered at her. “What do you want?...And want are you doing on this channel?”

The smile she gave him was actually rather friendly. Winkel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Granted, he always liked when woman smiled at him (even if it was really only in his head), but he had learned that this woman never smiled at him without some ulterior motive - and never one that he liked. In some ways that was progress for him, not that he would have admitted it. That would mean that he was wrong, and he was most certainly never wrong. Women liked him, they just didn’t realize it.

“I have a job for you. Something suited to you skills and experience.” N’alae told him. Now he was doubly suspicious. What could she possibly want to work with him again for?

“The last time we worked together you locked me in an airlock and pulled the controls. It took me four hours to get out of there.” His voice rose steadily with his temper.

“You grabbed my ass.” N’alae said flatly. “After the third time, you were lucky I didn’t open the outer doors.”

Winkel fumed a little, then decided to let it pass. “What makes you think I’d work for you?”

“The opportunity of a lifetime.” She smiled broadly in a way that he found infuriating. He had to admit though, that he was curious. She had no reason to speak to him again; besides the fact that we was an extremely handsome genius, of course. He said nothing for several minutes while he thought it over. After some time N’alae sent him a file.

“Be at these coordinates at the time indicated. Don’t be late Winkel.” N’alae continued to smile at him as he opened the file. It was an uninhabited region of space that had been used by smugglers, until the Federation shut them down. Now it was virtually untraveled. His curiosity was almost palatable. “Oh, Winkel,” she added sweetly, “Once you’re in, there’s no going back.” Despite her friendly face, her eyes were hard. “Cross me and I won’t just rip out the controls next time.” Winkel swallowed hard, knowing that she meant it, but helpless to resist now.

She was about to end the transmission, when she looked at him a little more critically. “Is that the same shirt you had three years ago?” N’alae asked with some disgust.

Winkel looked down at his wrinkled shirt. “Maybe.” He answered evasively.

N’alae signed and began punching controls of her console. “I’m sending you some specs. Be sure to wear it.”

The file appeared in his system and Winkel opened it to review the contents. He scowled at what he saw. “This is a uniform N’alae. I don’t do uniforms.”

“You will,” N’alae said in a matter-of-fact tone. “If you want this job.” With that the screen went black and the words TRANSMISSION TERMINATED, flashed up where her face had been a moment before.

Winkel swore. He sat at his desk for a whole ten minutes staring at the uniform and the coordinates she had sent him. Then he got up and started packing.


********

Two days later Winkel sat in a cramped personal transport at the coordinates N’alae had given him. The uniform itched. He had made a few alterations to the design, for the sake of comfort of course. The collar had been completely unacceptable. He also still wore his faded green-grey vest. As far as he was concerned, that was non-negotiable. His hair had been brushed and re-braided, and he had even added a few new beads.

He had arrived an hour early just to be on the safe side, and was passing the time modifying the schematics to a Ferengi freighter. He increased the engine output by 30%, reduced the fuel consumption by 17%, re-designed the power distribution relays, added new shield modulators put holo-emitters to the hull. It was ideal for smugglers. Perhaps when he was finished, he would sell the plans to a Ferengi trader he knew.

The console beeped, indicating an incoming transmission. Putting aside the PADD he was working on, Winkel hit the key to receive it. N’alae was wearing a similar uniform.

“Hello again Winkel. I am glad you decided to come.” The friendly face from the other day was gone, the one that replaced it was all business. “I hope you gave some consideration to what I said. There will be no going back once you accept the position.”

“And just what is this position?” He could think of two or three ‘positions’ he’d like to be in with her, but he very quickly quashed that line of thinking. It was really very progressive of him, actually.

“Chief engineer on a star-ship, of course.” N’alae’s response was just too casual for his liking. Engineering positions did not just become available, nor did they typically come with the type of ‘contact’ she had implied.

“And how do you have a star ship, huh? You’re a smuggler like the rest.” He was being purposefully condescending, but she did not take the bait.

“Time’s change.” Was all she said. Winkel ground his teeth. He didn’t like being backed into a corner, but he really wanted to know what all the secrecy was about. In the end, he figured that if the offer didn’t live up to expectations he could just go into hiding again. He had quite a lot of experience in that field. She would never find him - probably.

“All right girl. I’ll do it.” Winkel did his very best to sound sincere, after all, he was - well for the next several minutes anyways.

N’alae looked him over for a few seconds, then laughed. “Don’t worry Winkel, you won’t be going anywhere. I promise this will be better than even you think.”

“We’ll see.” He muttered under his breath, annoyed that she had seen through him so easily. The transmission cut off and he was left looking at a black screen again. Winkel glanced at his sensors then leaned forward to look out the front viewport. “Where are you?” he asked the empty space in front of him.

Suddenly the sensors began sounding alarms and a D’deridex Class Romulan Warbird decloaked 1500 meters off his bow. His heart leaped into his throat and then seemed to stop beating for several seconds as this apex predator of war vessels shimmered into view. The nose section completely filled the front viewport, and he found himself staring directly into the main bridge. It was a truly massive ship, much larger even than the Federation’s Galaxy Class starships. By comparison his transport was nothing more than an insignificant insect.

Winkel swore viciously. She had led him into a trap! He would of never expected that from her. In desperation he raised his shields and made to back off from the war-bird, although there was no escaping at this rage. They could pick him off without even trying. He looked at his sensors again, knowing that he would see the weapons charging. But something wasn’t right. The weapons were cool, and the Romulan’s shields were down. For a brief instant he thought that perhaps they meant to beam him aboard instead of simply shooting him and he was glad that his shields were up.

The comms declared an incoming hail from the D’deridex. Winkel stared at it but did not accept the hail. He was sure that it would be some smug Romulan commander here to collect him and advance his career in the process. The hail continued for several minutes while the war-bird made no further moves. Knowing that he could not escape this time, he decided that he would not cower before some mentally-deficient middle-aged military ‘wanker’ - to borrow a human term (he found that they had such a colorful vocabulary). Emboldened by his anger but still a little wary, Winkel answered the hail - only to have N’alae’s face appear on his screen again.

“So, what do you think of the Morning’s Wake?” N’alae smirked. Winkel’s face was a perfect blend of fear, anger and confusion.

For several seconds Winkel could not move or speak; his mind simply refusing to accept what he was seeing. His confusion melted into rage at the fright she had given him. However, looking at her smirking face on the screen he suddenly found a great amount of humor in the situation, and he began to laugh. “By all the powers girl!” He roared. “Right you are!” He slammed his fist on the console, “I’ll not be going anywhere.”

His anger and fear suddenly gone, Winkel leaned over the console and looked out at the vessel. It was a thing of beauty in his eyes. Back in the Romulan Empire he had spent years working his way up through the ranks just to be able to get close to one. When he had finally been cleared to work in the Garidian shipyards, that stuck up Romulan shrew had ruined it all.

Docking procedures flashed up on his console, and he set the autopilot to proceed. “I’m looking forward to hearing how you pulled this off!” He chuckled as his shuttle entered the ship’s bay.

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