Chronicles of Bloc. Pilot episode part III

(part I is here and part II is here)

==Bloc's Office==

With the critical supplies needed to open the Hotel/Casino/Resort (or at least the bar/restaurant part of it) on their way from his friend, and the location for the place chosen, Bloc had charged his as yet only employee to compare Starfleet’s original Starbase blueprints for the chosen area with the actual situation on the location.

He knew that sometimes changes to the layout and outfitting on starbases were not always updated on the blueprints and he needed to know how much work it would take to rebuild whatever is at that location now into the large space that would hold his center business.

Peecea had already told him there were some smaller shop areas with smaller storage areas as well as some non-described spaces which had been used by private citizens for private purposes. All the bulkheads separating those rooms and spaces would have to be ripped out and the loss of structural strength they represent need to be compensated for.

It would be costly to run into surprises during these operations and so Peecea was sent out armed with a tricorder to check the blueprints with the actual situation at the location.

About three hours after Peecea had set of into the maze of storage, shop, and "private" spaces Bloc's communicator chimed to tell him he had an incoming call.

Mysterious and cryptic call

"Bloc here." he said forcefully.

"It's Peecea sir. I'm about three-quarters through the space you marked and i've come across something you need to see for yourself." said the disembodied voice of Peecea.

Bloc raised his eyebrows and said "on my way" while rising from his seat and moving towards the exit. Bloc considered himself a good judge of character and though he had only met the man the day before he was confident Peesea would not have kept his communication so vague and bereft of information if he didn't feel the communicators were insufficiently secure to pass the information through.

The man had been wheeling and dealing his way through life on this base since the day construction had started and undoubtedly learned long ago what could and could not be discussed on public comm channels.

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==cargobay on the intended location of the future Hotel/Resort/Casino==

It took some time but eventually, Bloc was able to get to the large cargo bay that Peecea had told him he'd meet Bloc. The lighting was sparse and flickered on and off in places while sounds of liquids dripping into a puddle of liquid seemed as loud as meteorites impacting an un-shielded starship hull.

In the back, next to an opened hatch, or really tiny door, Peecea was nervously looking this way and that, as if afraid someone would pop out of the shadows any second.

"This place isn't easy to get into" Bloc commented as Peecea noticed him and turned to face him.

The man frowned in response as if that hadn't occurred to him yet and after a moment he nodded and replied "I guess that could account for why this is here and not anywhere else."

"Why what is here?" Bloc asked in reply, looking around him.

"Right through here sir" Peecea told Bloc, pointing at the passage in the corner bulkhead.

Bloc now became irritated with the lack of information his right-hand man was giving him but decided he'd reserve judgment until he saw what the human was on about. He stuck his head and considerable bulk into the small opening and wiggled through it just barely avoiding getting jammed in it.

Small room, big surprise

As he rose inside the room he had emerged into his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. The room was filled with equipment and screens. The room wasn't large, measuring 5 meters by 5 meters by 2 meters but packed floor to ceiling with what looked to Bloc like very sophisticated machinery.

One end of the room, the far wall, was covered with screens not leaving a centimeter uncovered. some were small, showing numbers and lists marching from the bottom to the top and others were larger showing camera feeds or displayed star-charts with marked blinking symbols slowly moving across them.

In front of the wall of screens an array of controls and consoles were arranged to face the chair the was placed in the middle in front of them. Peacee had joined him and held up the blueprints for that section of the star-base.

"According to this the cargo bay we just came from extends another five meters that way" he said pointing at the far wall with the screens adding "And the shop next door should start just about here" and pointed at a point near where Bloc was standing.

"This place isn't on any records?" Bloc asked, knowing that this place was trouble in his gut.

"Nope, and neither does it show up on sensors" the human replied.

Bloc had moved to the array of controls and was examining the consoles and screens more closely. One of the screens showing a camera feed caught his eye and made his eyes grow into saucers as he realized he knew where the camera was that was feeding it.

Oh shit, that's gonna be troublesome!

"Ah crap!" he exclaimed as he saw the ensign that had arrested him only moments after he had set foot on the starbase.

The screen showed a live feed from the security office, the brig and the chief of security's office. Then his right hand man recognized another screen's feed.

"Oh my god! That is the Captain's office!" Peacee said in almost a whisper.

He had been around the block enough to know that Starfleet would freak when they knew about these feeds and that the difficulty of getting those feeds meant that only large and experienced organizations were capable of overcoming them. Bloc too had been considering the implications of what they had discovered here and who might be responsible for them.

During his years in the Empire he had learned the value of information about your enemy in battle. His Ferengi education taught him the same about information's value, be it relating to business negotiations and making profit. He had also learned that the price of it was high because of the difficulty in obtaining any that was any good to anyone.

He once had the displeasure of drawing the tender attention of the Romulan Tal Shiar in one of his less fortunate business experiences. All this told him that the room he was in could only be conceived, planned and executed by an organization with near limitless resources.

"It's obvious this is an intelligence gathering operation" he said, not particularly to Peesea or anyone at all.

Peesea answered none the less "Obviously. And it's not your average corporate espionage or blackmailing scam that's being run in here"

After some moments of silent deliberation and recognizing a camera feed as coming from a Starfleet vessels bridge, Bloc made a decision and started to move.

"This place doesn't show up on any sensors?" he asked his employee to make sure he'd understood correctly.

"It hasn't so far and it doesn't show on any sensors i have access to" the man replied.

"Then lets get out of here and keep this between the two of us for now." Bloc told him and left no doubt that Bloc expected his new associate to obey completely.

"Sure. The less i get involved with this place, the better. I want nothing to do with it" Peesea answered as he ducked into the passage way and disappeared through. "Though i do wonder why you'd want to keep this from Starfleet" the older man remarked as Bloc emerged out of the passageway into the cargo-bay and shut the tiny door behind him.

"I have not yet decided i want to." Bloc said and added "But i do know that once they learn of this place, the reconstruction efforts are on hold indefinitely." his expression sour.

"Yes, Starfleet would be in here with an army of engineers and science specialists going through every circuit in there with a microscope" Peesea nodded considering the consequences for the Corporation.

He knew Bloc was running out of money, and time out of time, and that a delay in the start of the reconstruction could mean the end of the young hybrid entrepreneur and his ambitious plans for the Starbase before he even had a chance to begin. He also knew that what was in that room they'd just been in could be a serious threat to the security of the United Federation of Planets.

Understanding each other

Peesea had spent the last decade or so of his life walking the cord between the letter of the law and the way it was being enforced and had developed a healthy disliking for the Federation's organization for enforcing the law. Before that, he had been a proud part of that same organization though, part of the reason he was as good at his trade as he had been, and was not a citizen of the Federation on paper only.

He was aware of the difficulties facing the Federation and the wars it had gotten into and doubted the room he and his new boss had discovered served to benefit Starfleet or the Federation.

"Peesea, do not be concerned" Bloc suddenly bellowed feeling insulted somewhat at the obvious concerns going through Peesea's mind. "I am a Klingon warrior as much as i am a Ferengi businessman. Both of my heritages allow me to do anything that would betray the Federation or Starfleet. As Civilian Administrator of this Starbase, I am honor-bound to protect their interests. As a businessman, i cannot do anything less than protect my property and source of profit which this Starbase and by extension Starfleet represents." Bloc explained.

Peesea nodded as he understood what Bloc was saying. "And if this room wasn't here, there'd be no more threat and therefore nothing for Starfleet's finest to investigate?" the human then finished his thoughts, his eyes widening as he understood what Bloc was considering.

A smile appeared on the Ferengi/Klingon hybrid pleased the human was on the same level he was. "Question is..." the human then said adding "What will whoever put that equipment in there do when they learn their equipment and source of information has disappeared and construction of a Hotel/Casino/Resort has begun in its place?"

"Indeed" Bloc agreed walking out of the cargo bay with the human in tow.

"And thát depends on who that whoever turns out to be" Bloc said, more than a little worried this wouldn't be something that would just quietly blow over with time. He had made his decision however and like any true Klingon he stuck with it until evidence told him it was unwise to do so.

Get it out of here!

"Get some trustworthy men and get that equipment out of that room. Use my ship to get it off the station and then dump it into the nearest unobserved star." he ordered his right-hand man.

"Understood, i'll take care of it mr. Bloc." Peesea replied before he turned and walked of in the opposite direction to get the job done as quickly as possible.

He just hoped they weren't pissing off any big players like the Tal Shiar, the Obsidian Order or the A.I.B. (Aliens In Black). Organizations like that would likely not just cut their losses and forget about the loss of a source of information like this. He guessed that was why it was men like Bloc that made the fortunes and men like Peesea worked for men like them.

[At this point some of the stories of the main Starbase 801 Legacy Chronicles take place that will be posted in the coming week. Sorry for any confusion there might be]

====Bloc's office====

A flashing icon alerted Bloc that the computer had found a certain trigger which Bloc had marked so he'd be notified of that event. The speakers in the office were blasting the pounding deep bassline of the Hardcore House track in the playlist Bloc had thrown together to help him stay awake, alert, and focussed so loud that the 190BMP rhythm caused his belly to feel the bass's vibration and of course made hearing the audible alarm Bloc had set to sound impossible.

Wondering if that blinking icon had been blinking for a while before Bloc's eye had caught it his index finger stabbed at it with the beat of the bass and the screen in front of him lit up with the data that he'd been looking for.

"Odd." he said to all the no ones in his office. "The shuttle docked after an uneventful journey back from the station unchallenged" he voiced his thoughts to see if they made sense to him.

Questions without answers

Bloc got up from behind the desk and walked over to the window to gaze out into the dark emptiness of space. That emptiness was, of course, everything but empty as everyone in the 25th century was aware of but still, it did look the part.

"Why haven't the Avatar's hired goons freed their boss while he was still onboard a relatively weak and penetrable shuttlecraft under guard from a small number of Starfleet officers?" he asked himself out loud. He knew that now the Zakdorn had arrived at Legacy he'd no doubt be safely behind a forcefield in the Station's brig, and the station's Starfleet crew complement numbered in the hundreds.

Getting the Avatar of Cthulhu out of captivity now would be much more difficult and costly than it had been to intercept the shuttle on its way here. A moment later he decided he hadn't enough information to come to any sort of conclusion and determined to find out.

"I need to know what happened to the "Janai'ngo" as the powerful and heavily armed, cloak equipped ship was called and if the Janai'ngo posed a threat to the Legacy. This chunk of metal turning on its axle in space was now his home, his only opportunity for earning back his fortune, and, to his mind at least, he owned a sizable chunk of it. Having the Janai'ngo decloak and start shooting holes into it wasn't a thought that he would see played out beyond his mind.

Surprise

"You shouldn't have interfered with our equipment Bloc" said a voice behind him.

The suddenness of it and the fact that its owner had been able to enter into Bloc's presence without his noticing instinctively triggered his warrior's defense reflexes and instincts. He ducked, rolled, and then kicked up to where the Ferengi ears had told him the voice had spoken from.

The human was on his back looking at the ceiling before he'd even realized the Ferengi/Klingon hybrid had moved. Stinging pain in his left lower ribcage the evidence that Bloc had indeed moved and kicked the crap out of him.

"Wait" the human managed to squeeze from his throat with the limited amount of air the kick's impact allowed him to breathe in. The instinctive plea to desist from whatever Bloc was about to do proved one for which the Human would be grateful long after today's events, however, those would prove to play out.

Mere millimeters separated the Klingon D'ktagh from the skin of the Human's exposed neck when it stopped moving. Bloc quickly gathered his senses and with them his thoughts.

"I have questions for you before we speak of any equipment you might have... misplaced" the Ferengi warrior, or Klingon Businessman whatever one preferred told the human over which he towered with all the bulk that formed his body.

The D'ktagh still at his throat the Human decided that that wasn't the best time to disobey the man mere millimeters away from slicing through his throat like Phaser beams through empty space.

Nice to meet you!

"Of course, no problem, what do you want to know? I'll be ever so happy to tell you anything I know... if you could find it in your kind heart to put that very sharp and dangerous-looking weapon from my throat I'd be ever so grateful" the human replied, careful not to move his throat while speaking knowing that it would be bad for the integrity of his skin.

The small screen and indicators on the small Ferengi tricorder that Bloc had taken from his pocket and scanned the human with told Bloc the man wasn't hiding any weapons, and he decided that he posed no threat to Bloc. He slowly moved the D'ktag to its secure scabbard placed on Bloc's lower back and when the magnets in it clicked the Klingon bladed weapon into place Bloc's empty hand clasped onto the Human's shoulder.

Using the strength in his legs only Bloc hauled himself up onto his feet and simultaneously picked up the Human up to an upright stance with him. Now both on their feet the Human found that Bloc's greater size and larger bulk still loomed over him. He knew it was another of the Klingon traits which were aimed at dissuading the Human from any thoughts that might linger that could anger the Klingengi... or Ferengon or whatever the hybrid that Bloc was should be called.

"How did you get in here unnoticed" Bloc demanded, no less annoyed at having been caught with his proverbial pants down. If the human hadn't spoken but fired a weapon, or even stabbed him with a knife, Bloc would now be dead. The smile the humans face spawned at that question served to annoy Bloc to a level he'd not known to be possible before.

"I belong to an organization which has access to unique technology Mr. Bloc. One piece of that tech provides us with the means to avoid the public on the conventional corridors and passageways. I used it to beam myself in here, as my organization and myself prefer my presence here to remain undetected." the Human told him. "My name is Agent Storm" he added.

"Agent Storm huh? And what would be that organization you say you are part of?" Bloc asked only now noticing that though the Human's attire was vaguely uniform-ish. A rank indication on the man's collar was nothing he had seen before and probably not even Starfleet. The black bottom half of the "uniform"'s shirt was shiny black like some sort of leather and the top that in most Starfleet uniforms had been colored to indicate the department the officer worked wasn't green, red, yellow, blue, or purple. It was matte black, and on the man's chest, a nearly indiscernible piece of black metal took the place of Starfleet's logo-shaped communicator.

The face of the human showed that the man had aged more from hardship and suffering than by age itself and the eyes though deep and seemingly vibrant with life poorly hid the impression they had seen more than any man should have to.

"That is not that important right now, to be honest. If we do our jobs right you have never heard of it before so giving the name would be useless to you anyway. The equipment you found while you recklessly ripped out whatever bulkheads or other things that were in your way when you started construction of your quaint little casino here is the property of that organization, and that my friend is very important right now." The human said, suddenly seeming much more threatening, sinister and dangerous than he had seconds before just seconds before. And that without moving a muscle that Bloc had been able to see.

"That area, and more than 20 percent of this stations space, and everything non-Starfleet that's in it, are now the property of the Ferengon Legacy corporation as clearly defined in the contract I have signed with the previous owner, and of everything in it, who looked nothing like you or that organization of yours who really could use a good clothes designer to do something about that hideously ugly uniform you have on mister Storm." Bloc growled and immediately blocked any, and all thoughts the human might have harbored of stating any accusations to Bloc and reminding the human that no matter how they tried to forget it, Humans were relatively weak as a species when compared to most other races in the known reaches of space and that there were smarter moves than to anger an already annoyed and angry specimen of one of those much stronger races.

Bloc's surprise at the Human's apparent lack of response to his, mostly Klingon, a show of instinctive intimidation could be kept from reaching his demeanor or expression but only with considerable effort.

"I find it disappointing you show so little aptitude for thinking beyond the moment and lack of taking the available facts you have and let them lead your mind where they need to take you and not take the destination you prefer and consider only those facts not steering your mind away from that destination." the Human sighed.

He then looked Bloc deep into his eyes asking

"The thought that the equipment, and its owner, placed it there with the purpose of defending the integrity and safety of this station, and by extension, your own being one of its inhabitants, not to mention that of the United Federation of Planets and every sentient being in it never entered your mind did it?" asked Storm incredulously.

"Your mind never got past damned this stuff is in my way and when I rip it out and make it disappear the obstructions' owners will be too embarrassed by the stuff's discovery to come out and ask about their stuff," the Human said in a condescending tone.

Don't piss off a being with Klingon blood

Only after the first words of the Ferengon entered the human's ears and registered in the human brain did the human organs in that same ear catch up to the change of the human's body in relation to the rest of the station and a second later had even determined that it was hanging upside down a meter off the floor.

"Hear this Human. You have just now insulted me. Was I fully Klingon you would have now found your head looking down upon your own body slamming onto the floor without it." Bloc said in a barely humanoid growl. "I did not like you to begin with and making me like you even less would, no matter how much it would improve my mood and lower my anger, be the worst thing that ever happened in your life. That life had come to a premature end, just like that of the structural integrity of your fragile human body" Bloc said, not making idle threats, and then he threw the human across the room to land in a heap.

I know more than you think, Humaaaan.

"I know you're an agent from Section 31, and that Section 31 had integrated that equipment into the Starbase's construction when it was originally built. I doubted though that Section 31 would risk exposure by asking questions about it let alone send an agent in an attempt to.... " Bloc let a moment's silence fall before looking up locking his gaze onto the humans and asking "...do what? What was the goal you were sent here to achieve Agent Storm of Section 31"

The secret agent clearly had yet to regain control of his composure and his mind had not yet accepted either the ease with which Bloc had grabbed him by the ankle and threw him across the room or the knowledge Bloc had about Section 31, Storm's being an agent of 31 and about the timing of the equipment's placing aboard Legacy. Throwing a Section 31 agent's self-control and breaking down the methods for concealment of his inner thinking was supposed to be nigh impossible, and that brought Bloc no small amount of pleasure, not to mention pride.

By the time the human was back on his feet and was in the process of brushing imaginary dust off the black on black with black uniform, though, the Agent had regained whatever he had momentarily lost and was back on the ball.

"I owe you an apology Mr. Bloc. I have clearly underestimated you in many ways. Your temper being one, your intelligence another, and your physical strength a third. I can assure you that shall remain a single occurrence." Storm said.

He then sighed and sat down in the chair that sat across from Bloc's desk behind which Bloc's ornate office chair remained unoccupied for the moment. Bloc sat down into it moments later after he had replicated two mugs of Klingon blood wine and passed one of them to the agent . Storm leaned forward resting his elbows on the desk before he spoke, his tone thoughtful and considered.

"Considering the restraint that time places on my mission allow me to restart this conversation by telling you that the Janai'ngo was one of the many things of interest to 31 that we gathered intelligence on with the equipment you destroyed. I see by your expression that I was right in suspecting that would interest you. It also tells me you were surprised by the shuttle carrying the "avatar of Cthulhu" arriving here on Legacy without the Janai'ngo attempting to free their feared leader from the shuttlecraft's hold on their journey here. The Janai'ngo can reach warp 9.9999399 without much strain and has enough firepower to put even most Klingon battleships to the test and its cloak masks its presence from sensors more undetectable than any we've ever encountered before" Storm said, voicing the exact worries that were plaguing Bloc when Storm had surprised him.

"Why are you telling me this? What does Section 31 care about a minor crime ringleader and one ship that happens to carry more bite than most other leaders of organizations like that? I know Section 31 doesn't concern itself with minutia like that. Section 31 deals with sector-, quadrant- or galaxy-wide scale events. Things that can threaten the entire Federation, not just a Starbase or the region of space it's located in" Bloc snapped.

He again managed to catch the Agent off balance not asking the questions that Storm had expected him to ask.

Let's make a deal

"Maybe the continued presence in this area of space of this particular station is essential to other activities or strategies that 31 may or may not be involved in at the moment or in the future" Storm asked rhetorically. "That is irrelevant to you, me, and the people on this station for the moment I think you'll agree. Knowing where the Janai'ngo is, where it is heading to and the intentions of whoever is now in command of the Janai'ngo are however and I suggest you allow me to make you... an offer for a deal shall we say... one which would be profitable to both of us, and everyone on the Starbase as well I should say." Storm asked Bloc.

An hour later the men that had removed the equipment, joined by 2 Section 31 officers, were busy installing it into a different section of Legacy's many areas and Bloc and Storm were finishing up their... business dealings.

In exchange for a hefty amount of gold-pressed latinum, the access codes for the equipment, and a monitoring console in Bloc's quarters the Ferengon Legacy corporation would provide the space for the equipment, monitor its condition, and keep it from being found by anyone outside Section 31 or the Ferengon Legacy corporation.

Specifically, Starfleet was never to learn of the existence of the equipment or of the presence of Section 31 agents and personnel during the past few hours. As they finished the Agent couldn't help but regard the hybrid man with respect and admiration he seldomly felt for anything or anyone these days. He extended his hand opened wide as he said goodbye.

"Thank you Mr. Bloc. This has been the most remarkable experience in over 20 years, and I fear that had I been forced to deal with Starfleet or Federation citizens the outcome of this afternoon would have been very different from what we were able to achieve."

Pleasure doing business

"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Storm. The Ferengon Legacy corporation looks forward to doing business with your organization in the future when and if that should prove profitable." Bloc answered, his Ferengi side still pumping adrenaline into his system from the negotiation and the profit they had made him.

Bloc turned to the replicator and ordered a bottle of champagne saying "I believe the equipment will be functional and online within the hour... I could say until we meet again Ag... Mr. Storm, but I doubt we ever will. So goodbye shall have to do."

He turned around to offer the human some of the Champaign to toast their successful deal to find that, as quietly as he had arrived, the Agent had disappeared.

==Level 21 Promenade==

The location that Bloc had picked for the center of Ferengon Legacy inc.’s operations on Starbase 801 wasn’t the most prominent by far. It was on one of the smaller promenade rings, the ring on level 21. As most of the offices and departments that provided a service of some sort were located on the main promenade ring on level 0 like the logistics offices, the medical departments, and the administrative offices which were mostly run by Starfleet, that level and the ones above and below that level were a hive of activity of every sort.

This included young children, the care center being on level 1, and most visitors to the station, and the highest concentration of Starfleet officers in the sector. Bloc had understood that building his casino there would have the consequence that Starfleet would be more strict and rigid when it came to matters of decency, morality, and ethics and it’d be more likely Bloc and Starfleet would come into…. Differences of opinion.

Level 21 on the other hand had no Starfleet office, no public service providers other than entertainment and commercial ones and as a result, had very few visitors in Uniform on duty. Being located close to the civilian and lower-ranked Starfleet officer’s living quarters and offering some of the best panoramic views to the depths of space outside it meant that it could very well be the 2nd most traveled promenade on Legacy. It had been the only logical location for an operation like the one Bloc had in mind when he came to the station.

The recent unforeseen financial good fortune had enabled Bloc to speed up the construction process considerably, hiring more engineers and acquiring better and more equipment for the job. The promenade facing façade, the walls and the entrance had been put in place and were in the process of being adorned with the insanely bright neon sign shouting out the name of the establishment to everyone not completely blind.

“Ferengon Legacy” the sign said in Federation standard. The sign was welded onto the wall above the entrance and when it had been connected to the power supply it lit up in bright fluorescent blue, flashing to black light after 1 second and back another second later. No one would know it by looking at Bloc but that moment, disgustingly enough to his Klingon side, filled him with a strange emotional pride and excitement.

When Bloc had stumbled upon the opportunity that had led him to SB801 he had nothing but profit and wealth in mind. Then when the deal had become more probable and the costs became more quantifiable it had been the stubborn Klingon in him that would not allow him to gracefully bow out of the whole cockamamie plan, like the business Ferengi instinct and common sense knew he should. Then, during the execution of his even more insane scheme with which he had to acquire the assets he needed to finance the deal and in which he had risked everything he possessed and growing old in financial destitution he found that for some reason the profit… the latinum, wealth or material possessions… they hadn’t mattered anymore.

Home?

There he was, working the scheme even the legendary Grand Nagusses of before Nagus Rom could only dream of, moving huge amounts of commodities and currency across 18 starsystems spanning hundreds or thousands of lightyears across space making profit margins up in the 30 percent range. He was doing business on a scale many planetary governments couldn’t afford and achieve the goal he’d set for his entire life.

That was the moment that for the first time since he could remember Bloc had realized the money and wealth weren’t the most important. They didn’t matter one bit actually. All that mattered he succeeded, made the deal with Starfleet to acquire the commercial right to exploitation of a huge chunk of Federation Starbase, and end up without a slip of latinum in debt.

Being busy doing about a gazillion things at once in his head at that time had prevented Bloc from reflecting more on that unique realization and didn’t really think much of it at the time. He had been successful in the end, but was surprised himself when he looked up from his padd one moment, looked back on its screen, and read the lines “Ferengon Legacy Inc.” and realized he had been developing ideas for the rights he was getting and for a future that would be centered around those plans.

Motivation and drive

Now, on the station for only a few days and already having experienced exciting and various things than he’d had in the years before, he realized squinting against the brightness of the sign above ‘his’ doorway into ‘his’ establishment that Bloc, son of Quch of the House of wISuq, wasn’t there for profit.

Bloc wasn’t building the casino to become wealthy. Bloc was there and building that place because it meant something to him deep inside. He felt pride, he felt promise for the future, he felt connected….He turned his back to the sign, smiling at the flow of people that passed by the construction site, most of them squinting against the glare of the un-ignorable sign Bloc had put up.

His Ferengi ears took in the cacophony of sounds that permeated the promenade and his nose noticed the particular smell that seemed to be omnipresent on rings below and above 10, and he decided the place had a good buzz around itself and a generally pleasant atmosphere hanging over it. He liked being there. He felt… at home.

Nodding to his, by now trusted, right-hand man that would oversee the construction operation, he made his way leisurely to the turbo lift and was soon whisked away through the innards of the Starbase to his quarters. Outwards he looked as he always did, the attentiveness of the Ferengi and the honorable and toughness unmistakably communicated by his stance and expression, hiding the turmoil that raged in his head. All the life he had known at the core of his being that he was not at home. Not on Ferenginar, not on Qo’Nos, not anywhere else he’d been in his travels over the years. That knowledge had become the foundation he had built his sense of self on and had taken for granted for all his life. Now he realized that he no longer had that feeling. That nagging slither of conscious thought told him not to become too comfortable and trusting because however good everything seemed, he was not at home.

What does it mean to be home?

Bloc hardly noticed the woosh woosh the door made as he walked into his quarters and knew that what he experienced seeing the inside of the quarters and walking in was “coming home”. The emotions that battled for notice inside him mingled to settle on some sort of elation before his rational mind dug its heels into the sand and began to think about what that actually meant for him.

What, if any, are the consequences of SB801 being Home rather than the current base of operations from which he would operate for the time being? Just as Bloc had settled into his favorite armchair his console chimed to announce a message. It was the result of the data analysis of the sensor data that the s31 device had picked up.

Oh oh!

It showed the over 90% probable locations where the cloaked vessel was detected and used data like the displacement of nebulas gasses, particles, and energy fluctuations even a cloaked ship caused and an extrapolation of the ship's probable destination. A scowl came across the already ugly face of the tall man.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a communicator, opened a channel, and said =

^=Civil administrator Bloc to Commodore Joon=^=

Seconds passed before the computer replied.

commodore Joon is not aboard this Starbase, and cannot be reached. said the oddly but only slightly “off” sounding voice of the Starbase computer.

Bloc was moving out of his “home” before the last of the computer’s words had sounded through the seemingly omnipresent speaker system that most Starfleet locations have installed literally everywhere.

He had to get this information to the person in charge right away. Bloc kicked himself for not having thought of the possibility himself before. He had to get this to Starfleet authority at once!

To be continued!

Thank you for reading this. (i know it's a long one. Sorry about that!)
Stay safe and stay happy!

@AnonSunamun