Star Trek: Waystation Episode 1: Prime Real Estate There were stars to be seen, but they were quite dim. All except for one, that is. There, surrounded by an inexplicable void hundreds of light years larger than normal distance between star systems, was what the Federation scientists classified as a Rogue Star. Officially it was referred to as celestial body A-340.552, but those scientists had only seen it through the imaging sensors of their observation arrays. They knew little about the celestial body, and that is how it mistakenly became classified as a rogue star. A rogue star has a velocity contrary to the natural rotation of the galaxy. Celestial body A-340.552 moved in a sinister harmony with the rest of what the humans called the Milky Way. Maybe it was because the star lay outside the boundaries of the Federation, maybe it was because the war with the Dominion that had been raging when the rogue star had been observed, classified, and filed away. Whatever the reason, the first pair of eyes to see it unassisted by technology belonged to a Ferengi whose entire holdings were contained within a pathetic shuttle equipped with a faulty navigation system. He could see stars, but they were dim, with the exception of the one standing in all its brilliance before him. And orbiting it, unnoticed by the Federation scientists, was a metallic object containing a renewable artificial oxygen environment, a power source compatible with alpha quadrant technology, and best of all: location, location, location. ********************** The shrill alarm yanked Vince into consciousness. He sat up quick and took a minute to get his bearings. He then pressed the control next to his bed and flopped back into his pillow. He really should have set it for an hour later, seven was too early. He closed his eyes. Fifteen minutes later, the alarm went off again. This was getting tiresome. Vince hit the snooze again, but this time sleep escaped him and he lumbered out of bed. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes and ran his fingers threw his sort curls of black hair. He walked over to his dresser and caught a view of himself in the mirror and slapped his paunch. He would have to do something about that, but not today. He opened the dresser, picked out a shirt, and pulled it on. He cursed under his breath when he realized he had no clean trousers. He picked up the pair he has worn a day earlier off the floor and put them on. His comm. was still in his pocket. He set it next to him as he sat on the bed and laced up his shoes. The comm. automatically downloaded the latest figures and beeped when it was complete. Vince glanced at the screen, bracing himself for the bad news. Odd, he though. He added another sum to the tally and listed it as ‘Other Sales’. Were these numbers right? Vince kissed the comm. He had done it. Not on schedule and not on budget, but none of that mattered now. The Rogue Star Orbital was out of the red and into the black. Even someone as incompetent as his boss Gleb could appreciate that they had turned a profit. Vince was actually looking forward to the next subspace transmission from the fat little troll of a Ferengi. “Orange Juice.” He commanded the replicator as he slipped the PADD into his pocket. The device responded with an unpromising bleep. On any other day this would have deflated Vince’s good humor, but not today, he had done it. He hit the replicator with his hand, and a glass finally materialized. “Vince.” A female voice called as he left his quarters. Vince turned, but did not stop walking. “Jendi, looking beautiful, is it the hair? Did you do something different with the hair?” Jendi’s hair was tied up loosely with a strip of fabric, though some stray strands hung free, just enough to hide behind when she looked down. While not the most flattering hairdo, it did a fair job of displaying the dark brown markings of a Trill running down either side of her neck. The hair also somehow matched her frumpy rust orange jumpsuit. She self-consciously tucked some of the stray strands behind her ear, and tried to fight off a small smile. “Oh, uh, thank you. No, though, not really.” She said as she matched Vince’s long stride. “I’m just messing with you, what do got today?” Vince asked, raising his glass of juice to his mouth. The smile left her lips and she felt overwhelmingly plain again. “There have been reports coming in from all over the station that the replicators—“ “Lord that is foul!” Vince cried as he spewed juice out of his mouth. He gagged and spit on to the floor, then looked dubiously at his glass. “It’s kinda brown. And that taste, that taste is… I dunno, you taste it.” He offered the glass to Jendi. “Chocolate.” She said, gently pushing it away. “That’s it, chocolate and orange juice, how did you know? Did I get some on you?” “For some reason the replicators are putting chocolate into everything. I’ve gotten two pages of complaints in the past hour.” She held out a PADD. Vince failed to take it. He pulled a comm. out of his pocket. “Banho, you there?” “Veence?” The shrill voice of the Rogue Star Orbital’s engineer replied. “Veence, is dat you?” “Sure is Banho. Why does everything taste like chocolate?” “OOOh… Weeell, Rizzo knows how much eeverybody likes dee shocolate, and she want to geeve eeverybody what dey like.” “Yeah, that’s really cute how you made R-S-O into Rizzo, and you treat the station like it’s a person, but I need an engineer, not a physiatrist, just get the food tasting like it should.” Vince sighed and dropped his glass of chocolate orange juice into a trash disintegrator. “These were a good idea.” He said. “Remind me to give a raise to whoever thought of these if we ever make any money.” “They were my idea.” Jendi replied. “Well good news, then.” Vince pulled the PADD out of his pocket and handed it to her. “We made money this month. So once Gleb pays us out of this hole of dept, we might be able to afford that raise.” Jendi took the PADD and scanned over the data. “This doesn’t make sense.” “Let’s go on down to the mall and see if Dell has anything that doesn’t taste like chocolate.” Vince snatched the PADD back. “Oh, uh, that reminds me…. I have some bad news.” Jendi said. “We made money this month, even Gleb will be happy.” “Gleb… He sent a message, he’s sort of on his way.” “Here?” Vince asked. Jendi nodded. “Today.” “Today? The trip takes two weeks at high warp from the edge of the void. When did he leave?” She shrugged. “The message didn’t say, only that he would arrive today.” “You know what? I don’t even care. I can’t wait to tell that big eared Ferengi freak that I actually made money for him.” “That’s not the bad news.” “It’s not? There’s something worse than Gleb coming?” “Not exactly worse, I guess.” “Then it can wait until after breakfast. We’re in the black, we should celebrate. Let’s go down to the mall, I’ll buy you breakfast. That kid of yours on solids yet? I’ll spring for her too.” “Tama is six.” “Good, she won’t eat that much.” Vince liked good news. He stopped and sniffed the air. “Do you smell something?” “Well, actually…” Vince smelled again, inhaling more deeply. The aroma made him wince. He couldn’t decide what was worse, the taste of chocolate orange juice or the wonderful new smell he had discovered. “It smells like rotting hair.” “Vince, I really should tell you...” Vince walked through the door to the mall and came to a stop.
A very promising beginning. I enjoyed the banter and the humor. I have an idea about the smell, but I'll wait to see if I'm right or not.
“Mbahhhhh, mbaaaahhhh.” The creature standing before him said. It was squat, stood on four legs, covered in thick hair, and had an absent minded look on its faced as it aimlessly chewed at nothing. “Jendi honey, what’s a goat doing in the mall?” Being met with an unexpected goat in the middle of the mall, his mall, on his station was a surprising turn of events to say the lease. However, that surprise was multiplied by what seemed to be roughly a hundred head of livestock. “They’re actually Rigellian sheep.” Jendi said. “Sure, but what are all these goats doing here?” Vince pushed through the herd. “Don’t just stand there Jendi, do something!” “Howdy Vince.” A southern draw came from the door of R.S.O.’s only restaurant. “Hey Dell.” He said casually, ignoring the goats. “How are things?” “Actually started off pretty good this morning.” Dell didn’t look like an exceeding tall man. The bulk of his build added enough width to his frame to destroy any perspective if you saw him standing alone. “Something about chocolate in the replicators, business really picked up seeing as I’ve got the only dinner around. That is of course until a goat took a dump on my floor. Now it’s just Captain Jimmy, me, and the herd in here.” Dell motioned to the bar behind him with his thumb. “It might not have been the goats. Are you sure someone didn’t drop one of your chicken fried steaks? Really, I think it’s a common mistake.” “Easy there hoss, don’t go knockin’ the house special.” Dell laughed. “Vince have you ever been to Rigel?” The question came from a rather old, rather portly, rather balding man behind Dell. He was holding a beer and not at all off put off by the animal munching on the back of his pant leg. “No Captain Jimmy, can’t say that I have.” “They have the best lamb chops I have ever tasted, and a honey mead that could knock out a Klingon.” Captain Jimmy paused and took a large swing from his stein. “There was a farmer I met who brewed his own mead, and insisted all negotiations be made in the village’s bar.” Vince nodded and gave a half hearted smile. “And all very pertinent.” “Vince!” Jendi called. “Sorry Captain, you’ll have to tell me all about how you sat in a bar and drank on Rigel later. I just can’t quite picture you doing that.” Vince turned and pushed back through the herd towards Jendi. “Thank you Jendi.” “This is the, uh, owner.” She said. “You own the goats?” Vince asked the Tellarite standing next to Jendi. “For you information, they are Rigellian sheep.” The Tellarite said. “I keep hearing that, but somehow that doesn’t get them the hell out of the mall.” “You promised me a grazing area for my herd if I pulled into port here.” The Tellarite said. “Did I promise that?” Vince whispered to Jendi. She nodded. “I know I didn’t promise the mall, why didn’t you unexpectedly herd these things into a cargo bay?” Vince asked. Jendi tugged on Vince’s sleeve. “Bays two, three and four are decompressed, the contractors are in the middle of some work on the other docking pylons.” Vince rolled his eyes. “An entire year and only one of four pylons is operational.” “We could put them in cargo bay one, but I can’t get it open.” She suggested. “No!” Vince snapped. “I mean, the contractors said that bay one is off limits too, they need it for, uh, equipment. They locked it, not me.” He turned back to the Tellarite. “You’re going to have to get these goats back on your ship.” “They are Rigellian sheep, and you promised me a grazing area.” The Tellarite protested. “There is no grass here! How can they graze?!” Vince hollered. “The need to stretch their legs!” The Tellarite retorted. “My shops are losing business, and I’m pretty sure I stepped in something that ruined these shoes, but maybe we can make a deal.” Vince paused and turned to Jendi. “Has Banho fixed the replicators yet?” Jendi was surprised at the question. “I don’t know that, I’ve been here the whole time.” “Then go find out.” Vince ordered, shooing her with a gesture. He waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to the Tellarite. “I‘ll refuel your tub, how’s that?” The Tellarite looked him over for a moment. Vince leaded in close. “An entire pod of antimatter, high quality, Starfleet quality.” The Tellarite considered the offer for a minute. “Do it within the hour. I wish to get underway.” “Meet me at cargo bay one in twenty minutes with an anti-grav lift.” Vince began to walk away. “And don’t forget the goats.” He called over his shoulder. “Oh Vince.” The words floated gently on the air. “Miss Leelee.” Vince answered, turning to a storefront door adorn in satin sheets. “Are the Goats hurting you’re business too?” Standing outside her business, Leelee looked like she was ready for bed, which really wasn’t far from the truth. Her bald head was off putting to most humans, but not her attitude. Nor was the reputation Deltans had earned themselves through their indiscriminatingly friendly behavior. “Not really,” She shrugged, “some of my clientele have actually asked if we had any farm animals. They’re Rigellian Sheep, by the way.” “I keep hearing that. So your costumers get off on these things?” Vince pushed an overly interested goat away from his crotch. “Some do, but I don’t. That hair on their back legs has a habit of grabbing everything their body tries to expel.” She grimaced a little at the thought of goat turds drying on the back of goat legs. “Their bodies just aren’t put together very well.” “You know something about goats?” Vince asked. “I know something about well put together bodies.” “I’ll say.” Vince looked up and down the Deltan’s fit figure. “So business is still booming even with the goat situation?” Leelee rolled her eyes. “Business has never been booming.” “What? You’re able to practice your trade freely, outside of any legal jurisdiction.” “You must still have some of that Starfleet mentality left in you. Just because I can conduct business un-harassed doesn’t mean everyone is buying my product. This isn’t exactly a bustling station.” “I’m working on that part, give me a break. And trust me; there isn’t an ounce of Starfleet left in this guy.” Vince said pointing both his thumbs at his grinning face. His grin then dropped away as he began to walk away. “They made sure of that.” He muttered to himself.
Enter the Deltan and the goats--I mean Rigellian sheep. So...Miss Leelee runs the local...entertainment center... And it looks like Vince and Starfleet had an unfriendly parting of the ways...
Goats . . . Why did it have to be goats? *They're Rigellian Sheep!* Well, then, that's different! I love the characters (and I do mean characters!) that you're introducing. This is a lot of fun, so far. Keep it coming!
I'm glad you're enjoying the RSO so far. From the beggining I was trying to establish strong characters. The setting will be very static over the course to this series of stories, so the characters must be strong to keep things interesting. Hopefully they will carry you through the story left to come.
Great series opener! I love the banter and the cast of ‘eclectic’ characters you’ve populated your station with. Good going.
“Like a strike?” Jendi was confused. Chucki had always been a good contractor, a bit slow, but then again Gleb refused to pay for a full construction crew. “I don’t approve of that union bull no more than our Ferengi employer. Probably why he hired me.” Chucki explained. He was calm, but bristling of his hair gave any his agitation. Underneath the Troyian’s pile of white hair the vestigial antennas of his Andorian ancestry involuntarily wiggled back and forth. “But I gots to draw the line when me and mine don’t get paid.” Jendi looked down and away. She didn’t know what to do. She kept books, and wrote schedules. People, well that was what Vince did. It was about all that Vince did. “Vince!” Hearing his name caused him to pause in his stride and look for his adoring fan. “Jendi, hi. Just heading off to the cargo bay.” “Vince, I need you.” “That’s very sweet, but I really think we should keep it professional. You’re a great girl and all, but it’s not me, it’s you and all of that, and I really need to be getting to the cargo bay.” Vince resumed his stride. “Vince, Chucki won’t work.” He stopped and looked at the contractor and his men. The workers that weren’t hunkered on their tuckas were putting their tools away. “Chucki baby, why are you packing up shop? I know the job ain’t done, you got another three pylons to finish. Is this some sort of union thing?” “It’s not a…” Chucki trailed off and sniffed the air. “Something smells like a bag of ass.” Vince wiped his shoe on the floor. “It’s goat crap. Don’t worry about it, its fine.” Chucki huffed in frustration. “I like you Vince, but I can’t work for free. Payment stops, we go home, and that’s the way of it.” “It’s got to be a mistake. Listen, Gleb’s on his way here. I’ll talk to him.” Vince smiled patted Chucki on the back. “We’ll get this all sorted out.” Chucki shook his head. “I talked to the bank Vince. Gleb put the stop order in himself.” ********************* “It doesn’t make sense for Gleb to stop payment. What are we going to do?” Jendi asked, trying to keep up with Vince’s relentless pace. “I’m going to the cargo bay. And you can go up to docking control. The ship of the goats is getting ready to leave, and we’re expecting incoming.” “I thought Chucki had locked his equipment in there. Why not just make him get it?” “Because I locked it in there for him!” Vince snapped. “Jendi, I’m getting screwed here, and I don’t need you questioning every damn thing I do! Now would you get to docking control?” Jendi tucked her head and snuck away. “And make sure Banho fixes the replicators.” Vince hollered over his shoulder as he stormed on to the cargo bay. ********************* “You’re late.” The Tellarite snorted, his up turned snout releasing a small mist of mucus as he did. He was leaning against the door of cargo bay one. “Well you look like a pig and smell like a goat.” Vince typed an access code into a control panel. The Tellarite stumbled backwards as the doors he was leaning against parted. “They are rigellian sheep!” He retorted, grabbing the handle of his anti-gravity cart and following Vince into the bay. “Whatever shepherd, just get that anti-grav over here.” The bay was had a large pile of whitish gray containers with the distinctive arrowhead and shield emblem of the Federation’s Starfleet on them. Vince heaved up the most convenient of them and dropped it on the Tellarite’s cart. “Been a pleasure, come again.” “I just might. A bag of fuel like this is not easy to come by.” The Tellarite ran his hand across the Starfleet markings. “Where did you get this?” “Vince,” Jendi’s voice came over the comm., “Vince, are you there? We’re receiving a distress signal.” Vince usher the Tellarite out of the Cargo Bay. “I really do appreciate your business. I just don’t appreciate your herd doing its business in the middle of my mall.” He locked the bay doors behind them. “Hopefully next time your station will be a bit more complete.” “I’ll see what I can do, now if you’ll excuse me.” The Tellarite walked off as Vince pulled out his comm. “Jendi, what’s shakin’?” “It’s an automated distress beacon. I think it’s from an escape pod, but I can’t be sure. It’s a weird computer language; I’ve never seen it before.” Vince was surprised to hear that, if he was the mouth of this operation they had, Jendi was definitely the brain. But language was a secondary concern at the moment. “Did you call Dell?” “He’s got the only shuttle with a tractor beam.” Jendi replied. “Good girl, I’ll meet you in the maintenance bay.”
The maintenance bay was the largest space on the Rogue Star Orbital. It wasn’t supposed to be. Pylons two and four were supposed to house maintenance bays three times the size, of course pylons two and four were not complete. When Jendi entered, she felt smaller than she usually did. While it was the smallest maintenance bay in the station’s design, it was still a massive room. It could hold a small ship, and was equipped with all the tools and gear needed to make repairs. Vince had her charge their costumers by the hour for its use. The space was empty at the moment except for the tools, and the small but expensive shuttle that had taken up residence in one corner of the bay. Whatever the problem was, it didn’t seemed to be getting fixed, but Captain Jimmy kept paying the bill at the end of every month. And as far as Vince was concerned, that was enough to put up with the random and rarely coherent stories Captain Jimmy felt compelled to share. Jendi walked across the bay to a small freestanding control console on top of a pedestal next to the starboard bulkhead. She pressed a button and red lights started blinking in an elliptical ring on the wall. The lights were accompanied by a siren that gave off a muted wale with each blink. The long axis of the ellipse then parted and the maintenance bay door slowly opened. “God this bay is huge.” Vince said as he came into the far side of the bay. “Remind me we got this place next time someone brings goats.” “Oh, uh, I don’t think anyone else is bringing goats for awhile. No one that has a reservation has, um, made any special request.” Vince waved off her explanation. “What’s going on? What do we know? Are we rescuing someone’s crown prince, getting a huge reward, and paying off all our debts?” “The distress signal only gave the pod’s coordinates. I don’t know who’s in it.” “Looks like we’re about to find out.” Vince pointed to the open bay doors. Dells shuttle came into view as it made a left turn towards the opening. It had a long cylindrical hull that swept upwards at the bow and warp nacelles that on either side of the under belly. From the front they looked like feet. “Here comes the banana boat.” Vince said as Dell’s shuttle passed through the bay’s force field. Behind it, dragged by a rope of blue energy, was a diamond shaped container only slightly larger than a body. “It looks like a coffin.” Jendi said. “Maybe, we have no idea how long that thing has been floating out there.” Vince agreed. “It’s like when you get a birthday present as a kid. Is it going to be that perfect toy, or some dead guy?” “We never exchanged corpses at holidays on Trill.” The space banana settled onto the deck and Jendi hit the control to close the bay doors. The siren and lights began to pulse as the shuttles tractor beam lowered the escape pod down on the deck and then shut off. “I ain’t going to get a bill for being parked here am I?” Dell asked as he stepped out of his shuttle. “We’ll work something out.” Vince replied. Dell shot back an accusing glance. “I’m kidding,” Vince insisted, “I’m kidding, don’t give me that look.” The three of them walked over to the escape pod. Jendi squatted down in front of a small control panel. She looked it over for a moment then turned to Vince. “I can open it.” Vince pinched his nose with his right hand then said, “Do it.” “Wait.” Dell interrupted. “Just what are you doing Vince?” “What if whoever is in there isn’t living?” A very nasal response came. “I don’t need to smell that.” Dell quickly pinched his own nose. “Ok, I’m ready.” Jendi turned back to the pad and pressed several controls. The top of the diamond parted and the middle and the escape pod opened to reveal what looked like a young man. The species was one they had never seen before. The young man squirmed a bit and both Dell and Vince let go of their noses. Vince snarled his upper lip in disgust. “Holy crap, I should have left my nose pinched! This kid smells like a bar.” He then turned to Dell. “What were you doing? Serving him drinks on your way back here?” Dell sniffed the kid cautiously. “It’s alcohol alright. And I think he pissed himself.” “Are you ok?” Jendi asked their stinky survivor. Wide eyed the boy sat up and looked around the bay. “What’s your name?” Vince asked in slow exaggerated words. The boy’s wandering gaze directed itself towards Vince. For a moment it looked as if he might actually speak, the next moment it looked much more like he was vomiting on Vince’s shoes. After coughing out the last of it, the boy raised his head again. “Something smells like shit.” “That would be you sonny.” Dell said. “Really?” The boy pulled the front of his shirt to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Actually, it’s me. I have goat crap on my shoe.” Vince looked down at his soiled footwear. “And vomit.” He added. “Why would you want goat crap on your shoes?” The boy asked. “It’s all the rage in France.” Vince shot back. “Now do you have a name?” “Well yeah, why wouldn’t I?” The boy seemed to marvel at the stupidity of the question. “Well what is it son?” Dell chuckled. “It’s Acke.” The boy replied. “What’s France?” “How did you get drunk in an escape pod?” Jendi asked. “I’m not…” Acke started. “You’re the one that… You can’t decide, you can’t decide that I’m drunk.” “Check the pod’s water stores.” Vince told Jendi. “Vince, being a bartender I know a thing or two about alcohol, and water don’t ferment.” Dell said as Jendi found a tube to one of the water stores. She smelled the end, winced and nodded at Vince. “Well I know a little about misbehaving on a ship.” Vince said. “Some Captains of merchant vessels don’t allow their crew to drink while underway. An innovative alcoholic will replace the bags of water in the escape pods with some sort of clear alcohol.” “Is that what lost your commission with Starfleet?” Dell asked. “That was a complete misunderstanding.” Vince sounded slightly uncomfortable. A beep came from his pocket and checked the readout on its small screen. “Looks like we got clients.” Jendi pulled out a PADD and looked it over. “No one is scheduled to dock now.” “Maybe Gleb’s ship got in early, or maybe we’re just lucky enough to have unexpected paying clients.” Vince said. “Ok, Jendi get this vomit cleaned up. Dell, take this kid to your dinner and get him some water, the non-fermented kind.” “Vince, this kid can get water just as easy someplace where I’m not taking responsibility for him.” “Dell, he threw up when I asked him his name, how do you think he’ll responded to chocolate H2O form the replicator? Help me out here pal.” Vince patted Dell on the back and started out of the bay. Dell sighed. “At least he didn’t make fun of boat looking like a banana this time.” “He did,” Jendi told him, “before you landed.” “Well, that’s just Vince for you.” Dell didn’t let words hurt him. Jendi shook her head. “No, it’s not. It really does look like a banana. At least it’s not yellow.” “Wait a minute! Where am I?” Acke piped up. “And just who the hell are you people?”
He didn’t like to admit it, but Vince himself was probably as much to blame for the Rogue Star Orbital being over cost as Chucki and his guys meeting unexpected construction slowdowns or Gleb’s constant skimming off the top. One of the reasons was the comm. unit he held in his hand. It, and the one Jendi carried, was capable of a lot more than just intra-station communication, they could adjust the environmental controls, bill clients, even initiate the docking procedures. Not exactly the bargain basement comm. units that Gleb had authorized Vince to purchase, but it did make it possible to administrate and over see the construction of a space station with only three staff employees. While Vince did contribute to the overall dept, he knew his expenditures, like the comm. units and more recently the antimatter, were the only way to make the investment viable. So, once the money was spent he didn’t expect to see it again. That’s why when it came sauntering back through the airlock from the ship that he had just cleared to dock, Vince was even more surprised than when he had found a herd of goats grazing around the mall. “Jaster?” Vince ignored the other passengers that walked. Jaster Horn dressed in the finest Triaxian silk suits. His shoes were handmade Romulan leather. A rare thing for a human considering the Federation’s trade embargo against Romulus, but Jaster was not the sort that cared about Federation laws. He did not look like the typical visitor to the Rogue Star Orbital. A person seeing him from across the room would probably assume someone that well dressed was a successful and most likely respected business man. Seeing him up close the person would change their mind. Not because of his bald head or the roguish amount of stubble on his face, but because of the harshness in his eyes that stood in stark contrast to the charm in his voice. “Vincent, did you know you’re taller in person?” Mean eyes, bald heads, and stylish stubble didn’t concern Vince at the moment, he didn’t swing that way. “You know, I did know that, but why are you here?” “Business.” Jaster ran his hand along a grove in a nearby wall and checked his fingers for dust. “Is there anything to eat? I’m famished.” Vince started towards the mall. “I thought we were done, with the, uh, transaction.” Jaster chuckled to himself. “Vincent, you don’t look happy to see me. Don’t worry; I’m here on business, but not with you.” “Then who?” “My clients tend to expect a certain degree of anonymity. You understand” “Of course, it’s just a long way to travel, even for a pirate like you.” “We’re not pirates, we’re the Orion Syndicate. We don’t take ships by force…anymore. The profit margins are too thin. Extortion, blackmail, illegal goods, that’s where the money is.” The large double doors to the mall automatically opened in front of the two men. Jaster gave an audible sniff. “I thought that shit smell was just in the airlock, but it seems stronger here.” Vince sighed and looked at his feet. “It’s my shoes.” Jaster looked as well. “Oy!” His hand went over his nose and mouth, “haven’t you got another pair? If you don’t, I know a man that could get you new ones at a price.” Vince led on pointing out the few shops that had been opened. There was the Outer Space Outfitters, the Subspace PayComm, the Rental Lockers, the Consumer Value Store, Leelee’s *cough* business, and of course Dell’s Bar and Grill. Jaster looked at the high ceilings of the mall and the lighted signs of the storefronts and whistled. The station was far from complete, but what was finished was impressive for a privately owned station. “I see why you needed my assistance on that other matter; this place must be a fortune to power.” “Actually, this station is solar powered.” “No antimatter?” Vince shook his head. “Banho, our engineer, says the core station emits some kind of field around the star that collects energy.” He shrugged. “It works and it’s free.” “I’m surprised you’re not rolling in the latnum. Solar energy efficient enough to power a space station is a lucrative technology.” “It would be, if we knew how it worked. This station is built on top of an abandoned station my boss Gleb found.” Jaster smiled. “Quite a find for old Gleb.” ********************* Captain Jimmy sat next to Acke at Dell’s long mahogany bar when Vince and Jaster walked in. “Hey… hey...” Acke slurred his words as he half tapped, half rubbed Captain Jimmy on the shoulder. “Hey, I was on a Kuaning ship for three weeks, but then it exploded. That was a suck.” “Well that reminds me of a story.” Captain Jimmy replied. “Looks like we have a match made in heaven.” Dell said to Vince, nodding towards the pair. “What can I do ya for?” Jaster straightened the collar of his silk shirt as he noted Dell’s faded jeans and leather boots. “I think I’m underdressed. Anything edible in here?” “Chicken Fried Steak is the house special, best you can get this side of New Houston.” Dell pulled out a menu and placed in front of Jaster’s bar stool. “Any meat not fried in another animal?” Jaster looked suspiciously at the paper menu. “Dell, get him a pulled pork sandwich.” Vince then turned back to Jaster. “It’s safe.” “Vincent, I intend to put this food in my body. Describing it as safe isn’t exacting setting my taste buds a tingle.” “It’s good, you’ll like it. But you might want a few extra napkins.” Vince grabbed a small stack of napkins from just behind the bar. He unfolded the top one and tucked it into Jaster’s collar. Jaster looked at Vince in a stupefied awe. “What are you doing?” “It’s just such a nice shirt.” Vince said. Dell slid pulled pork sandwich, dripping with barbeque sauce in front of Jaster. “Bon appétit.” “This sandwich is leaking.” Jaster said. “Am I supposed to eat this with gloves?” From the other side of the bar there was gurgling grunt, a splashing sound, and Captain Jimmy telling a hunched and open mouthed Acke, “That reminds me of the time a very stubborn strand of gastroenteritis wreaked havoc on an Arkan outpost I happen to be stationed at. The decks of the facility…” “Well I’ve lost my appetite.” Jaster stood up and pulled the napkin out of his shirt. “Thanks though, be back for a pint later.” “Friend of yours?” Dell asked as Jaster walked off. Vince sighed. “Business associate.” He sat down on the stool Jaster had vacated and began to eat the pork sandwich. “What kinda of business is a guy like that into?” Dell asked. “None of yours.” Vince said, a dollop of barbeque sauce dripping down the side of his mouth. “You know that puddle of vomit on your floor is driving away customers, you might want to look into that.”
Just thought I chime in here to say how much I'm enjoying this. A lot of Trek fan-fiction follows along very similar lines but you have managed to do something a lot more unique here. And it is a hella fun too!
And now we have the slimy Orion "businessman"...I really do like the characters in this hole-in-the wall establishment.
Oh man, i can't believe I missed this thread and your WIP. More vacation reading! Thanks, I'll look forward to this, and to catching up with the progress when I return. :thumbsup:
I'm really glad you all are enjoying the first episode of Waystation. I'm sorry I haven't updated the thread in a couple of days, but I've been very busy at work. I have only left to eat and sleep the past 3 days (I'm even at work right now). I do have the next section ready, and will post it as soon as I can.
“Surrender or walk the plank!” Pirates often acted brashly, so she didn’t care if her victim knew her sword was just a dow she had found in the second pylon after Chucki and his workers had packed up, or that her hat was made of black paper and decorated with finger paint. Banho put his hands up in the air. “Wot ees da plank?” “It’s like a bridge coming off a pirate ship.” Tama explained. “But when you get to the other end there isn’t anything there.” “Weel dats not a very good bridge.” “It’s not supposed to be Banho. The pirates push you off the end into the sea!” “I can’t sweem, who can save me?” Banho asked. “Well, sometimes a daring Swashbuckler will defeat the pirates, but usually only to save a girl.” “Den I do wat you say.” Banho put his hands up, feigning surrender to the young girl. “Then Rizzo is mine!” Tama yelled triumphantly. “Pirates weren’t very smart, so you have to teach me how everything works.” “Ohkee. Wat do you want to know?” “What does that one do Banho?” The little girl pointed at a dial on the large wall console. “Weell Tama, dat one makes dee air good to breath. I turn it dis way and dee air has more oxygen, I turn it dat way and der is less.” Banho and Tama were near the center of the R.S.O. in the core of the original orbital structure. “And that one?” Tama pointed. Banho looked at the switch she pointed to and furrowed his pale green brow. He pushed the stray, ratty strands of hair out of the way of his thick glasses and tucked them up under the wool cap he wore. “I dun know wat eet does.” He stepped closer to the switch and squinted. He felt it with his hand then flicked it into the opposite position. Stepping back and quickly, he looked from right to left across his control station noting no changes. Then with a loud click, the switch turned itself back to its original position. “Banho,” Tama said, “I don’t think we should do that one again.” Banho slowly shook his head. “No, I dun tink dat switch wants to be turned.” The two stared a bit dumbfounded at the switch until the silence was broken by the klomp klomp of approaching footsteps. They turned to see Jendi, glaring at them from the end of the hall. “Hi mama.” Tama said timidly. “I have been looking all over for you.” Jendi scolded her daughter. “What did I tell you about not coming down here alone?” “But Mr. Banho was here.” Tama explained. “Tama ees a Pirate now.” Banho told her unamused mother. Jendi gave a sideways glance at the engineer, then back at her daughter. “You can’t just wander off like that honey. I need to know where you are.” “Mees Jendi, I make sure dat Tama ees safe, and Rizzo make sure dat we all are safe.” Banho assured her. “Have you fixed the replicators yet?” Jendi asked. “Der ees nothing wrong with da replicators.” He said. “So they don’t make everything taste like chocolate anymore?” Jendi felt like there was an echo in the room. “Dey never deed. Rizzo makes da shocolate taste.” “What? Never mind, can you fix it? Can you make the food not taste like chocolate?” Banho smiled and nodded. “I try.” “Good, come on Tama.” She reached out her hand and led her daughter out of the core. ********************* Vince sighed again as he strolled through the mall. His belly was full, but he had a bad taste in his mouth from his meeting with Jaster. He didn’t want Jaster’s type of business happening on his station, but the R.S.O. was just the type of place Jaster’s type of business liked to be done. Maybe Leelee was right, Vince’s Starfleet mentality was dying hard. A flop, flop, flop sound followed an almost human looking alien wearing sandals and an open floral shirt. “Vince,” the man called with pursed lips, “just came from the replimat…” Vince waved his hand at the remark. “I know, we’re getting it fixed. When did you get in Carib?” “Fifteen or twenty minutes ago. Thought my pal Vince would be there to greet me, but I guess not. I guess big shot station administrator doesn’t have time for little ol Carib.” “I didn’t see the Moldy Crow listed to come in today.” Carib smiled. “New ship, the Shining Beetle.” “The passenger liner? Moving up in the world. But you weren’t listed as captain.” Vince pulled out his PADD to check. “Well, one of the passengers wanted this trip to be a little low key, you know? Off the radar, need to know. But, yeah, you know, the new ship does it all, passengers, freight. I might even take people out charter hunting for those space-born beasties I keep hearing about.” “You know how stupid that name is, right? What beetles do you know that shine?” “I got the thing from an Orion, they have a thing for beetles I guess. It’s painted on the side and all, so I went with it.” “It was Jaster, wasn’t it?” “Who?” “The passenger that wanted to be off the radar. Bald? Well dressed?” “Yeah, Jaster Horn, you know him? His guys have some great flammables, if you catch my meaning.” Carib pinched his thumb and forefinger together and held them to his mouth. “He brought guys?” Carib nodded. “Yeah, bout ten or twelve, something like that. Why?” Vince sighed. “Never mind. Say, how’s that new ship doing on gas?” A beep from Vince’s comm. unit interrupted the conversation. “Hold that thought Carib, we’ll talk later.” Vince turned and answered the comm. “Tell me the replicators are fixed.” Vince said into the unit. “He’s here.” Jendi’s voice came back. “He’ll be docked in fifteen minutes.” ********************* Vince docked Gleb’s ship himself with his comm unit. As the sequenced and the doors opened Vince braced himself for the inevitable sound. “Viiiince!” The sound coming out of the short Ferengi fell somewhere between a whine and a quack. What Gleb lacked in height he made up for in width. His skin pulled tight over the fat packed into any free space it could find. He waddled through the airlock and grabbed Vince by the wrist holding the comm. unit. “What’s this? It looks expensive, did I pay for it?” “Good to see you too Gleb. How’s the wife?” Gleb grunted and let go of Vince's wrist. He waddled past the human and started towards the mall. “She’s on Fereginar. That reminds me, does that Deltan still work here? What was her name, Lee lee?” “Sure, and if you’ve got the latnium, she’s got the time. But before you go and console yourself over the separation from your spouse, could you tell me why you are here?” “Well it’s my station isn’t it?” Gleb asked, stepping through the door to the mall. “I have to look after my investment.” “For half a year you’ve been looking after your investment from your mansion on Ferenginar. Why did you show up here today, unannounced?” Vince followed the uninterested Ferengi to the replimat café. “For the past half a year you’ve been losing my money.” Gleb said over his shoulder before turning his full attention to the food slot inform of him. “Give me a cheese omelet with ham and peppers.” The food materialized and Gleb sat at the nearest table. “Not anymore.” Vince threw his PADD down inform of Gleb. The Ferengi took up the PADD and sneered as he looked over the figures. “Well, it’s about time. Or should I say past time? You’re too late Vince. My investors have lost their patience and want their money back.” Gleb punctuated the statement by stuffing a heaping forkful of omelet into his mouth. “What does that mean?” Gleb make another sound between a whine and a quack as spit out the omelet. “There’s something wrong with the replicator.” He picked up his napkin and began wiping his tongue of, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. “Yeah, it adds chocolate to everything, we’re looking into it.” “Too many glitches.” Gleb said. “Too far over budget and too far over time, that’s why I am selling this godforsaken station.” “Selling? To who? What about my job?” “Who I am selling to is not your concern, and your job is not my concern, not anymore.” “That’s why you didn’t pay Chucki this month. So that’s what you do? You squeezed a month of extra work out of us by keeping your mouth shut about this deal. Forgive me if I don’t get all teary eyed at the end of our working relationship.” “You should thank me. No one else would hire you with your criminal record.” “Oh yeah? Well you know what?” Vince stood there nodding for a few moments hoping a truly scathing come back would pop into his mind. “That was a complete misunderstanding, because I didn’t actually break any Federation laws. You see, they shouldn’t have had jurisdiction, so there.” It didn’t “Tell it to the unemployment line, I’m going to see that deltan.”
Well things are about to get intersting. Who is the new boss and will he keep Vince and his crew. Let's hope so but i bet things won't get any easier. Still liking this immensly. Top notch character work and dialogue as well.
“What’ll it be hoss?” Dell was carrying a bucket and mop back towards the Bar’s store room. “Oh, and watch out for the wet spot on the floor. Little Mr. Sunshine over there can’t seem to keep anything down.” “I don’t care.” Vince slumped down on a stool. “A shot of something strong and then a shot of something stronger.” “My head hurts soooo much.” Acke groaned from the end of the bar. “You drank like two gallons of moonshine in that escape pod, kid.” Vince said. “What did you think was going to happen, you’d start farting beams of rainbow bunny rabbits?” Acke looked up in surprise. “That was alcohol? But I’m too young to drink!” “Really?” Vince asked in obviously forced astonishment. “Dell, did you hear that, this kid is too young to drink. He didn’t realize the paint thinner like liquid he was consuming was making him drunk!” “Well it did taste kinda bad at first, but later I really got to like it.” Acke said. “How old are you little man?” Dell asked, pouring ‘something strong’ into a shot glass. “Fifteen yagrens.” Acke replied. “That’s three yagrens short of the legal drinking age.” Dell slid the shot in front of Vince. “What’s a yagren?” Vince shrugged. “Well I’m sorry kid. I don’t know what to tell you. We’re going to have to report you to the authorities for underage drinking.” He kicked back the shot and pointed at the glass for another. “And destruction of personal property.” “What?!” Acke yelped. “What did I destroy?” “You threw up on my shoes.” Vince kicked back the second shot and pointed at the glass again. “Oh no!” Acke said looking at the soiled footwear. “Is that where the funny smell is coming from? It doesn’t smell like vomit. It’s more like…” “I know. I got some of that on them too. Not your fault on that count though, it was a goat. So I’ll just hold you responsible for half the pair, deal? Where’s my drink?” Vince rapped the shot glass on the bar. “Vince, you better slow down. You’re taking after Acke here.” Dell put the bottle of ‘something strong’ back behind the bar. “You don’t think I need another? Let me check.” Vince turned to Acke. “Are you fabulously wealthy and planning on rewarding me with untold riches?” “No sir, I don’t have anything. I was only an engineer’s apprentice, but after my ship got attacked by that Kuan I’m not even that. I’m real sorry about your shoes.” Vince pushed the shot glass back towards Dell. “I need another.” “What’s with you, Vince? It ain’t like you to hit the bottle this early.” “Dell, we’re in a space station orbiting the only object in an otherwise mass-less void. How can it be early? Or late? Just pour the shot.” “Sorry hoss, you got to give me a reason.” Vince sighed. “Gleb is selling the station.” Dell pulled the bottle back out and poured another shot. Vince reached for the glass, but Dell snatched it up and kicked it back himself. “That better not go on my tab.” Vince said. “I’m unemployed now.” “Got anything put away for a rainy day?” Dell asked. “What? Are you seriously going to make me settle my tab right now? Way to kick a guy when he’s down. That’s mean man, that’s just mean.” “We need to get the shop owners together.” Dell said. “Don’t worry, I’ll let them know.” Vince put his down on the bar. “No, I mean we have to get their money together. If we can out bid Gleb’s buyer, this station could be ours.” The blank look that came across Vince’s face made it look like his brain had shut off for just a second. Dell looked at the label of what he’d been pouring to make sure it was only alcohol. “Dell, that idea is just plain....” Vince searched for the right word. “Brilliant! We could save my job!” Dell rolled his eyes. “Your job?” “All our jobs, and better than that.” Vince looked over at Acke. “Kid, you said you knew about engineering? Fix my replicators and we’ll drop the charges.” Dell shook his head. “What?” Vince asked defensively. “Can’t have the replicators on our station making everything taste like chocolate.” ********************* Vince’s good mood was returning. He entered docking control with a smile. “How much money have you saved up?” Jendi’s surprise at the question was outweighed by suspicion. “Why?” “Well, you look like you save. You know, you’re responsible, you have a little girl, I’ve never seen you wear anything other than those overalls…” “Thanks.” Jendi said sarcastically. “By the way, we’ve got five ships in route.” Vince smiled. Word of the station was getting out. “Good, when do they get here? Two weeks? Three?” Jendi shook her head. “Today. But there is a passenger liner, Gleb’s shuttle, and two cargo ships already docked. We don’t have the space to accommodate five ships.” Vince’s smile dropped. “Today? And they weren’t scheduled?” Jendi nodded. “One of them has got to be the buyer.” He pulled up the comm. log on a computer console and huffed when he saw nothing but five docking requests. “Or maybe it’s all of them, putting in bids or something.” “Bids on what?” “The station.” Vince replied. “Gleb is selling it, that’s why he’s here, and that’s why no one has gotten paid this month.” “He’s selling the Rogue Star Orbital? What are we going to do?” Vince looked at the console he was standing in front of, then back at Jendi. “We’re going to set up a docking rotation. We can put some ships into an orbit around the station, start with Gleb’s. Then let those five ships know they can dock, and we want payment in advance. Then let me know how much money you can put into our bid.” “That’s why you wanted to know how much I have saved.” Vince nodded. “For the station. Get a hold of the shop owners and set up a meeting. I’m going to need all the cash I can get my hands on.”
“Can I heeelp yoou?” Banho adjusted the thick glasses that rested on his round nose so he could better see the newcomer. “Uh, Vince said I should come here to meet you.” Acke said. “I threw up on his shoes and he said he wouldn’t tell the police if I helped fix the replicators.” “Weeell, I am Banho, and there is noting wrong wit da reeplikeetors.” He gave Acke a toothy smile and moved the paper pirate hat Tama had made for him off the unoccupied chair. “They don’t put chocolate into everything?” Acke asked, taking the seat. “No, Rizzo do dat.” “Oh.” Acke tried to understand what he had just heard without success. “Who?” “Rizzo, she ees all around us.” Banho swept his arm around the space. “The station.” Acke realized after a moment. “Who built this place?” Banho shrugged. “Rizzo doesn’t say.” “There are no logs? No files in the data banks?” “No dat I see.” Banho’s thick glasses slipped down the tip of his nose exposing his beady eyes. He used one finger to push them back into place and his pupils seemed to magically grow once covered by the thick lenses. “How did you get the core station to feed power to conventional systems?” “I put da lead on da surface of Rizzo an she find dem.” “Without any adapters or converters?” Acke had never heard of such technology and the questions kept pouring out of him. “What kind of voltage does it put out? How much current?” “Whatever ees needed.” “Automatically?” Banho smiled and nodded. ********************* “So why do we need you?” The question came from Mowen, the squat, single, angry man that owned the Consumer Value Store. “The station needs an administrator.” Vince hated Mowen. He was so… So anti-Vince really. “You ask us for our moneys, so you can buy the station, so you can run it. Sounds like you come out on top.” Mowen Scoffed. “I’m the station administrator. The station needs to be administrated. I’m not going to be the owner, we all will. Equal shares. But we need too pool our money now. Gleb is selling this station. The buyers are on their way and we could all be out of a job.” “Why would the buyer force us off the station?” Pia owned the Outer Space Outfitters and was thinking a bit too practically for Vince’s case. “They’d have no reason too.” Mowen shot back. “But they would fire the administrator that has made no money for a year.” “Okay, now that’s not true. We did make money this month. The station turned a profit.” Mowen rolled his eyes. “And how much dept is there to pay off?” “You know Mowen, you really need to work on being a more positive person. We’re all here to discuss our future. Dell is providing us all with free drinks--” “Free?” Dell almost yelped, pulling back the mojito he was serving to Pia. “We’ll talk about it. Just give her the drink Dell.” Vince sensed he might be losing control of the situation. “Vince is right.” The statement hung in the air like a bad joke. Leelee stood from her table in the back of the restaurant. “This is our chance to take control of this station’s fate, our fate.” “She’s just afraid the next owner won’t want a whore on the station.” Mowen muttered. “Come on now,” Vince stepped in, “that’s no way to talk about a woman to her face.” Leelee rolled her eyes and sat back down. “My knight in shining armor.” “How much money are we actually talking about here?” Dell asked. “I’m with you and Leelee, Vince, but how much money is this station worth?” “One hundred and twenty thousand.” Leelee said. “In bars of Latnium?” Mowen cried. Pia almost spit up her drink. “In Alnitak Dollars.” Leelee clarified. “120 K in alnits sounds about right.” Dell said from behind the bar. “How did you come up with that figure?” Vince asked. Leelee crossed her arms and drew in her legs. “Why don’t you just call me a whore, Vince?” “With Gleb?” Vince winced with an open mouth. “You might as well done one of those Rigellian Sheep.” “As long as they’re paying.” Leelee said coldly. The awkward silence that followed was finally broken by Jendi’s meek voice, “Six thousand.” The room turned towards her. “What was that, Honey?” Leelee asked. “I have six thousand alnits in savings.” Jendi said a little louder. “We’ll need at least one hundred and fourteen thousand more.” Leelee nodded. “Me and my girls can get eighteen thousand together.” “Eighty-five hundred.” Vince said. “And I might be able to squeeze a couple thousand out of the ships coming in today.” “If I can cancel the orders I made this morning, I’ll have fourteen thousand.” Pia offered. “Twenty-seven.” Dell said. “Thousand?!” Vince exclaimed. “Exactly how much does Captain Jimmy drink here?” “I’ve been putting it away for awhile, I’m good for it.” Dell assured them. They all turned to Mowen. “This is a stupid idea.” He said. They all just stared at him. Mowen shifted uneasily in his seat. Finally, the staring became unbearable. “Thirteen thousand, but that is an investment, and expect a decent return.” “Right!” Vince rubbed his hands together, this might actually work. “Jendi, set up an account for our bid.” “But Vince, we’re still over thirty thousand alnits short.” Jendi said. Vince dismissed the comment with a wave. “We’ll need at least thirty-five thousand more to make sure we’re not outbid, but let me handle it. This is what I do best.” ********************* “Great bird of the galaxy, did Starfleet give this to you as a lovely parting gift?” Carib ran his hand across the canister of antimatter. “Yeah, and next week they’re sending a team of engineers to complete the other three pylons and a crate of latinum just to make my life a little easier. So are you interested?” In a bout of optimism Vince had borrowed Chucki’s large antigrav unit. The shining Beetle did look like a thirsty ship. Hopefully it was down to its last sip. “I sure am, Mr. Touchy. How much are you asking?” “Seven hundred alnits.” Vince held his breath waiting for a response, and hoped Crib didn’t notice. “Seven hundred? That’s not exactly a fell off the back of a freighter deal…” Carib tapped a thoughtful finger on the side of one of the canisters. “Buy two, and get your third free.” Vince threw in. “What kind of deal would I get for four?” Carib asked. “The fourth will be another seven hundred, you could go up to six and two of them would be free.” Vince said hopefully. “Six would be a lot of alnits…” Carib tapped away for several excruciating seconds. He then slapped the canister with an open hand, “I’ll take five.” Vince stared at Carib, boggled by his math. “Seriously?” “Yeah, I’m good for it.” Carib said. “How much is it?” “It’s twenty-eight hundred alnits, but…” Vince trailed off. “But what?” Vince considered the math one more time, it wasn’t like he was being dishonest and after all, “But the customer is always right.” Vince smiled and put out his hand. Carib took it and shook it vigorously. “It’s a fair deal.” Vince nodded. “And then some.” ********************* Vince felt good. Even better than he did in the when he found out the station was in the black. Now he would be partial owner of a profitable station. He strolled through the mall, happy to see Jendi and Tama at the replimat. He walked up to one of the replicators and entered his administrator’s code. “Orange Juice.” He took the glass that materialized in the slot and sat down with Jendi and Tama. “Hi Vince, um…” Jendi looked at his glass. “Hey Jendi. Hi Tama, what do you have there?” “Chocolate ice cream.” The girl said in between spoonfuls. “Dell’s is packed,” Jendi explained, “but you should know…” “Packed with who?” Vince asked, raising his glass to his lips. Jendi winced as Vince tipped the liquid into his mouth. And she covered her daughter as the liquid was spit back out. Thankfully Vince turned his head away and the splatter was minimal. “I guess Banho hasn’t worked the chocolate out of the replicators yet.” Vince pulled a napkin out of the table dispenser and tried to wipe the taste out of his mouth. “Let mommy get you a bowl without spit on it honey.” Jendi picked Tama’s ice cream and Vince’s glass and took them to the disintegrator. “Can I get you anything Vince?” “Chocolate malt, I guess. Not that my spare tire needs it.” Vince padded his paunch, and wondered what a tire was and why you would need a spare. “So who is at Dell’s?” Tama reached across the table and tapped on Vince’s arm. “There’s pirates onboard Mr. Vince.” “Is that why you’re wearing that paper hat?” Vince asked. “Mr. Vince, you need to be a swashbuckler.” Tama told him. “I’m sorry Tama. I can’t play pirates with you right now.” Jendi sat back down with the ice cream and the malt. “Those five ships arrived. Their crews beamed over and headed straight for Dell’s.” “This deal is going down soon.” Vince picked up his malt and stood to leave. “I’ve got to find Gleb.” Tama grabbed Vince’s sleeve. “Watch out for pirates, Mr. Vince. Don’t ask them for help, they only help themselves.” Vince suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “Right, well you enjoy your ice cream.” He pulled Tama’s little hand off his sleeve and remembered why he didn’t really like kids.