Randy McGinnis had put in a very long hard day. Shuffling newly arrived crates of artwork off the incoming cargo carriers to the holding rooms on level 4 of Governors Station. He placed the last crate of the day into the room, with barely enough space to maneuver his grav truck.
As the cargo bay door closed behind him Fiona Richards, his supervisor, came walking past down the corridor.
“Hey Randy.” She smiled. “Thru for the evening?”
“Hell yes.” He looked back at the door. “Don’t think another crate is going to fit. How long we going to have to hold all this stuff anyway?”
Shaking her head. “I don’t know, the art exhibition at the Academy had been scheduled for the end of the month. If they intend to open on time it won’t be here long.”
They took a couple of steps away from the cargo bay, each sharing what their plans were for the evening. The last thing they experienced was a blast of unbearable heat on their backs.
**
Alarms started sounding in the control room of the station, the tempo of the officers went from lazy end of shift to battle alert in a second.
“Commander Coren to OPS.” The communication officer called. By the time she stepped into the room initial reports where being handed to her.
“Blast in cargo bay 6, level 4, 2 fatalities…… shit.” She nearly ran to enviromental controls, remembering the blast on Corianthian Station that killed 12.
“No damage to the hull Commander.” The officer called out. “Fires have been extinguished, Structural damage appears minor.”
“What was in that cargo bay?”
“Let me see…… That was the holding area for the up coming Art exhibit for the Academy.”
“Art?...... Art?” her voice rising. “I want a complete manifest…right now!”
It took a full ten minutes to bring the information to Coren’s desk. As he looked down the list, most of it was unknown to her. But when she got to item 145a, Container A334 (Vulcan) her heart stopped.
Jabbing the com button to her yeoman. “Get me Vice President Branson…Now!”
**
“Add 3 oz of Saurian Brady to the mixture and chill for 10 seconds.” Marcus was instructing the second shift bartender as the News Monitor over the bar caught his attention.
“This just in. It appears there has been a small explosion on Governors Station. Sources say it was centered in the cargo bay area…two crewmen are reported missing. Station Operations Center has yet to issue a statement. We will of course bring you more as information becomes available. This is Mike Olsen ONN reporting.”
“What a shame.” Young Sandy Connors said. “Wonder what it could be about?”
“No telling.” Marcus replied. “Cargo bay…. Could be anything.”
Just then his personal com unit buzzed.
“Marcus Dinn.” He answered.
“Mr. Dinn. Lt. Hennesy,”
“Yes Lieutenant?”
“I’m with the Vice Presidents office. Ms. Branson would appreciate it very much if you could come by.”
Marcus turned his attention back to the news monitor.
“I can be there in a few hours…sure.”
“Mr. Dinn…. She would really appreciate it if you gave this your highest priority.”
Nodding. “Tell her I’m on my way.”
**
Marcus had not met with Nicole since before his ‘death’, other than seeing her in RICKS and was surprised she would even think of him. He looked around the reception room at her office, all the photos of the cities of the colony proclaiming how far they had come since it had moved to the Beta quadrant.
“You may go in Mr. Dinn.” Lt. Hennesy said politely standing at the open door to Branson’s inner office.
“Mr. Dinn, thank you for coming on such short notice… please … have a seat.”
Taking the chair across from her desk he waited for her close the folder she was reviewing.
“You took some time away from us Mr. Dinn. It’s good to have you back. We all missed RICKS.”
“Thank you Ms. Branson.” He crossed his legs. “But you didn’t ask for me to talk about RICKS… did you?”
“Direct… to the point…..I forgot that about you… No, I have a problem I need your help with.”
“Something to do with the latest news I suppose?”
“Yes….The blast on the station destroyed almost all of a planned art exhibition at the academy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.. I was looking forward to it myself. But, why do you need me?”
“I need to find out who caused this, I need to find out in a hurry and I need the investigation to be very quiet.”
“Quiet… as in no official record.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Exactly.. you see there are going to be some very difficult repercussions from this I’m afraid.”
She passed over the Manifest and Marcus looked down to the highlighted item.
He read aloud. “One Vulcan lyre, on loan by the Vulcan Historical Society, Owned by Ambassador Spock. “ Marcus put the padd down letting that sink in.
“With the current tensions with the Vulcans, you can see why this is so delicate.” Branson pleaded.
“I appreciate your situation Ms. Branson. But I’m not a private detective. I’m a barkeep.”
“Please Mr. Dinn. Lets not play games. You have helped us in the past, I’m asking for your help now. I need this investigation done quickly and quietly.”
Marcus started to shake his head and Nicole tapped her desk. “I’ll make it worth your while Mr. Dinn.”
“How?”
“Governors Station has few restaurants.”
Finally Branson got the answer she wanted. Marcus stood up. “I’ll be on the station by this evening. Please alert Commander Coren.”
“I have carrier tickets here for you.” She stood handing over a small chip.
Marcus smiled but shook his head. “I have my own transportation.. thanks.”
With that he left the room and Branson sat back down, hoping Dinn would find the answers she needed before the Vulcans went thru the roof.
OFF:
Marcus Dinn
Owner of Ricks
Phoenix Colony
Phoenix Federation
Commander Coren
Station Commanding Officer
Governors Station’
Phoenix Federation
Vice President Nicole Branson
Phoenix Colony
Phoenix Federation
