Rahm Izad.
The place brought unpleasant memories to Nathan, even if he grudgingly admitted that some of his fondest times were also here. It was a mixed station; old, new, cracked and shining, and all manner questionable people. How it managed to keep running with the parts that were cobbled together in some areas was anyone’s guess, but one thing was for sure: jobs were plenty in stations like these. Unlike the squeaky Federation, the militaristic Klingons, or the paranoid Romulans, space states like Rahm Izad specialized in taking all walks of life as long as one had the coin to keep their bellies full of alcohol, their beds warm with another, and the usual fee that came with keeping one’s vessel berthed. Fighting was common on a station like Rahm Izad, as security usually meant whichever (current) thug or wannabe crime lord had the muscle to “keep the peace”.
Nathan didn’t fancy the idea of being here long. Too many things went awry the last time and he wondered if the station’s commander (did they have such a thing?) would remember him. With Will piloting the ship closer to the station, it looked as though that maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to dock without issues.
“Or, they shoot us in the airlock,” he mumbled to himself darkly. He had half a mind to tell his pilot to turn the ship and head for the next dead-beat station. There were a dime a dozen on this side of the Federation, and the only reason they hadn’t swooped in and “clean house” was because most of these stations sat in neutral space, comfortable and safe in the knowledge that Federation jurisdiction and Starfleet’s no-good do-good ideals stopped them from interfering with anything out here. Or maybe it was simply beneath them. Neither would have surprised Nathan.
Currently, Rahm Izad and three other stations were the closest and sitting right beyond the Federation/Cardassian frontier, far enough from that war torn area they called the DMZ, and close enough to both borders that trade and short runs (of the questionable sort) in and out were possible.
“You’ve been clear to docking port six. Tell ya capt’ if he tries anything funky this time, we’ll shoot him on sight,” came the declaration over the comm.
“Right, heard you loud and clear,” Nathan bit back, closing the signal right after.
Definitely a bad idea, he thought to himself. He knew of only one other on this god forsaken station and he was a bit 50/50 about meeting said person. Were they friends? Maybe? Enemies? Well, he couldn’t begrudge if it came to that, but it wasn’t like he meant any of it. One thing let to another and sometimes people needed to be cut loose, is all. Nathan could only imagine all kinds of unpleasantness that could sprout up if the past was brought up. Here was hoping he’d be able to stay and leave unnoticed.
Sadly, even if he wanted to turn back, it wasn’t as though he had the option. He needed a crew and the three of them didn’t count as one, not with a ship this big. He also had cargo to sell off, if only to get enough fuel to land their next job and never look at Rahm Izad again.
He sighed at the wonderful hopelessness of that; if only that were true the dozen or so times before.
With the ship eased into its docking port, Nathan sent out a quick message to be broadcasted throughout the station (for a nominal fee of course. Extra for advert to be bumped up against all the others that were broadcasting also). He paid the small extra with a grimace and a few choice words under his breath.
The message was simple enough and read thusly:
Job Offer:
Merchant captain in need of a crew, usual basics of one on one meeting a must. Background irrelevant as long as able to take orders regularly. All prospectives start at the bottom as usual and work their way up. Permanent position available for the right person.
Looking mainly for:
Tactical experience +
Medical experience +++
Engineering experience +++
But open to all that know their way around a ship and hard work.
Will be at Jov’s Bar & Entertainment lounge today.
Nathan Farris
The Shadowdancer
Transmitting the message, he picked up his jacket and looked at Will momentarily as he scrounged around for his disruptor. He left it last night somewhere on the bridge. “Will, have some of the station’s people to help with the cargo, sell it to anyone that wants it and put all of it to fuel. If she’s at capacity than use it for whatever supplies we need. Food, basic parts, you know the drill. I’ll be at the lounge, hopefully this won’t take long.”
Holstering the disruptor (found under a console no less), Nathan walked out the bridge and hollered behind him, “oh yeah, and if you manage get that all done, feel free to join me if you like or do whatever, just stay in contact.”
