[Galaxy] [New-Darwin] 2158 Aug 3rd, Plot Log, Lt. Julio Ibarra

[Suzanna Batenburg]

 2 months ago...

 // Trading Station : Edge of Klingon space \\

 Maintaining a posture of confidence as he passed into the docking  security gate and by the menacing guards, Captain Julio Ibarra made his  way
to the docking terminal and registered his ship. Dressed in a dark  hooded cloak over a worn Tandaran army uniform, he keyed in the details  of
the modified Tandaran cruiser in which he had arrived. He then  walked to a check point for non-Klingon aliens with half a mind on a  quick get-
away if things turned sour.

 The smell of fresh Targ meat lingered on the breath of the Klingon  customs official as he gave Ibarra a closer examination for weaponry.
Pulling out a laser pistol, Ibarra did not resist him taking it. The  Klingon ran a hand held scanner over the mechanism before handing it  back
to him.

 "naDevvo' yIghoS" [Go away] the Klingon growled rudely, allowing Ibarra  to pass. He continued slowly and soon found himself at the promenade
area, which was bustling with merchants, thieves and bars. One bar in  particular drew the most attention and the sound of Klingon Opera could
be heard coming through the smoking entrance.

 Entering with one hand on his blaster, he looked around for his  contact; a cagey Tellarite by the name of Taavrin. No second name, no  history
under the single name. Clearly an invented moniker, a common  Tellarite name in fact. Through a circuitous maze of contacts, this  Taavrin had
some information about Naussican guns for hire. Nothing  unusual in that; Naussicans were well known for their availability for  doing dirty
work. The buyer, in this case, seemed to be some high up  businessman well-known in the Klingon government. And this time, it was  for something
large scale. The buyer wanted a entire clan, willing to  make a raid on Earth space.  Ibarra's contact had news of a meeting  between this
Klingon and the Naussicans.

 His original contact had disappeared a month ago with no trace. He had  laid low for a while, waiting to see if anyone might have been looking
for him, a result perhaps of a coerced confession from the contact. But  nothing seemed to follow him up, so Ibarra once again sent out the call
for information and within three days, he had been approached in one of  the public bathe houses by an Orion woman who he had actually half
expected to have heard from weeks ago, who advised him to look for  Taavrin, a one-eyed Tellarite in the rusty red jumpsuit uniform of a
shuttle mechanic in this bar, on this day, at this time.

 As Ibarra scouted the interior with a bored, slightly inebriated  expression. He saw groups of different aliens; some Klingons in  particular
were making a lot of noise at the far end of the bar. Smoke  was puffing from a colourful machine behind the bar which apparently  produced
drinks and which was operated by a greasy looking Orion man.  The air smelt like the body odor of a hundred different alien's despite  the
efforts of an blackened air purifier situated on the roof. Minding  his own business he found a vacant table and sat down near the exit,  then
promptly heard a gritty accented voice immediately behind him.  "Hello Cousin, you hungry, I'll buy you a drink."

 "Sounds good, make it a double and I'll buy the second round," he  turned as he recited the riddle. With huge smiles, the two strangers
greeted each other like old college chums. Claps on the shoulders,  feigned punches to the belly, a run of a hand across the back of the  waist,
they each satisfied themselves of the extent of the others  weapons. Laughing and poking jibes at one another the Tellarite grabbed  the nearest
waitress by the arm and gruffly demanded two rounds of  Kai-terran double shots. He then wrapped an arm around Ibarra and the  two bustled
through the crowd to a table overlooking the promenade.

 Taavrin reached for the deck of cards in the basket on the table,  counted out 13 cards each, set the rest between the two and proceeded  with
a mish mash of small talk.

 "Hey you seen those new Naussican battle-cruisers? Real effective warp  drives I guess. Heard someone say warp 7. That's gotta be bull, no way
even 7 warp cores could move that big a ship at warp 7. I about kicked  the lying p'tahk in the teeth."

 "Well Cousin, I'm surprised you didn't. No, haven't seen one up close  and personal. Where are they doing all this high warp speed testing?"

 "Gamma something, Gamma Terra, no! Gamma Hydra, Gamma Terra. I don't  know, some far flung no-name of a place on the outskirts of town. But
enough about me friend, what have you going on?"

 "Met a woman," announced Ibarra.

 "Ahhh," replied Taavrin with a wink.

 "Wanted to take me home to meet her family. Turned her down. They were  wanting a dowry of 2700 darashars. I would give that for my ship maybe,
but not for a woman."

 Taavrin laughed. "Was she pretty?"

 "A little used maybe, but light on her feet and well equipped."

 "Yeah, you made the right decision. I'd take the ship. My own little  lady is ready to go. May make a trip to Earth. Never been, maybe take  my
time, get there in 2-3 moon cycles. Got a do a little business with  some Orions near Stellar 373. That will make me enough to have a bit of
fun on Earth, or Risa."

 The conversation wandered around to local news and throwing some names  back and forth for old times sake. Before long the Kai-terran double
shots were gone. Ibarra slipped some local currency onto the table, and  another bundle into the bosom of an Orion waitress and he and Taavrin
exited the bar exchanging barbs and punches and jovial hoots. The  Tellarite waved a hearty farewell to Ibarra, the 'keys' to Ibarra's  light-
footed and well-equipped Tandaran cruiser, in which was the sum  of 2700 darashars. Ibarra likewise left in high spirits with the  knowledge
that 7 Naussican battle-cruisers of significant size were to  gather over the next 3-4 months in the Gamma Hydra system, and  confirmed the
intentions to pay a visit someplace in Earth space. To  boot, the small Tellarite shuttle was ready to depart on the docking  pad immediately
next to the now traded Tandaran cruiser, in which  Ibarra could safely rendezvous with an Orion ship near Stellar 373, a  rocky dying solar
system some 3 light-years away. The green skinned  Orion waitress stood at the door of the bar and watched the two men  depart, fondling the
roll of currency in her cleavage.

 Ibarra hit the street on his way back to the shuttle, taking a long  route back. He had a week now at the most to find out the target of the
Naussican attack before he had to meet up with the Orions. He needed to  trace a man going by the name of Kolak Neras, find out who he was
operating for or at least where he was. Then if he could just make it  to the shuttle alive, there was a good chance Ibarra could make it to
the green woman's ship, and through a circuitous maze of connections,  make his way back to his handler on Forrest Outpost sometime before
Christmas.

 Lieutenant Julio Ibarra
 Starfleet Intelligence
 log by: Morotai + Rahndi
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