A NORMAL DAY AT WORK

(PART 6)

Bruce Sommer

Commander Heather Scott gazed at the second planet from the star Arbos, a world remarkably similar to Earth's in its atmosphere and land mass percentage. But there the similarities ended. Due to its heavier gravity, the elements that made up its geologic structure, and the process of rapid heating and cooling that created the planet - Dilithium could be found here. Getting it would be the problem.

According to TJ's report - which he had separated into four sections: Entry, contact, negotiations, and departure - there should be no problems if one remembered that individuals on Arbos-II were in charge of their own lives and not governments.

Entry could be achieved through transporter, as long as permission was first granted if beaming down onto private property. Otherwise, undeveloped areas not yet inhabited, or having labor applied, were fair game.

Contact with a government representative was out, since the only representatives represented private businesses. The alternative was to contact representatives of those companies that had previous contact with the UFP - the only one being Jansen Dilithium.

Negotiations would be possible if the USS Saratoga had something of value to offer the specific business. Things could get tricky here because of Arbos-II's insistence that they weren't subject to the UFP charter due to:

1) The fact that they weren't alive at its inception. Therefore as a contract it couldn't apply to them.

2) They didn't freely sign it and therefore, again, it didn't constitute a legal contract.

3) It constituted coercion, and was therefore a violation of natural law.

Due to this, material items might not be chosen as a common bartering point, but Arbos-II's secession from the UFP as a member planet - and that was something that the USS Saratoga didn't have the authority to grant. Even if it did, that price was much too high for a few Dilithium crystals.

Then there was the added complication of the recent communique from Starfleet urging the USS Saratoga to renew the trade agreement between the UFP and Jansen Dilithium that for mysterious reasons was never renewed eight years ago. How Starfleet could let a source of Dilithium go untapped for eight years was beyond Heather's understanding. And still the price of secession was too high for this trade agreement.

"Standard orbit around Arbos-II achieved commander," the helmsman informed Heather, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Thank you ensign," Heather replied, then directed her attention towards Communications. "Anything from the surface lieutenant?"

"More than I could ever respond to," she answered rapidly punching buttons. "We're being hailed on every channel across the board, and for some reason we're getting transmissions that are merging together."

"Hypothesis?"

"Evidently their receivers are built to separate transmissions from frequencies that are proximate to each other in order to establish a greater selection of channels."

"Well, let's see what you can give us. Pick a transmission and throw it on the main viewscreen."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Welcome, Federation Starship, to Arbos-II," a platinum blonde terran female spoke from the screen. "In order to make your stay more comfortable, we welcome you to the Jefferson Inn where suites and rooms of any size are available. Restaurants and recreation facilities are included. No reservations required. Precious metals, gems, real estate, private currencies, and other sellable commodities are accepted."

"Are they all like that lieutenant?" Heather asked, interrupting the advertisement.

"Yes commander, it seems that once we were spotted in orbit every business imaginable decided to bombard us with - I think the term is - commercials."

"Well, at least now we don't need to worry about where to beam down," Heather sighed. "It seems we've been invited."

* * *

Lieutenant Senior Grade Berl Rally stared at Commander Heather Scott. Heather stared defiantly right back. Both knew what the other was going to say - and neither of them liked it.

"So how is the Captain?" Berl asked, not quite ready to broach the subject.

"He's still unconscious," Heather answered.

"Any idea when he'll be up and around?"

"Medical anticipates 48 hours. Whatever took him out was pretty strong. Some sort of neurochemical derivative."

"I hope he comes out of it okay."

"I hope so too," Heather sighed. "Any luck on the phase 3 search?"

"No luck," Berl replied. "You know the armory is at 23% capacity?"

"Well, I had to arm all the landing party members. We didn't want relations getting off to a bad start."

"It's funny," Berl replied. "Any other planet that sort of action would have started a galactic incident. On Arbos-II, they expect it."

"They place a great deal of emphasis on the individuals' right, if not duty, to be armed. Being armed shows a willingness to defend ones self and others against violent acts. The lack of a weapon shows cowardice."

"But all that is beside the point," Berl countered. "What's on your mind?"

"I need Ensign Edwards to come down to Arbos-II with me."

"That wouldn't be advisable commander," Berl frowned. "He could have been reprogrammed. You know how much damage he could do down there?"

"We'll keep him under close surveillance," Heather answered sternly. "But our chances of success increase immeasurably with Edward's assistance."

"You're not going to take no for an answer are you?"

"No, I'm not."

* * *

Jansen Dilithium's transporters locked onto the incoming beam and began sorting out the molecules under the steady eye of the Senior Transporter Operator. Mikel Delovich had in his ten years on the job received a wide range of deliveries in the course of his duties. Everything from bonded couriers, dilithium samples, to the occasional VIP from South Cochrane. But what he hated most were the Starfleet personnel from the rare starship that came by.

These people of arrogance with the temerity to believe that they had the right to rule other peoples' lives. Some day they were going to learn that not everybody was going to stand still to do their bidding. Some day they were going to realize that people just wanted to be left alone to govern their own lives. With a sigh he admitted to himself that it would be quite a while before Starfleet came to that realization.

The molecules reformed to present two muscular men, easily recognizable as Federation Security. The two stepped off the dual pad just as if it were any other day. But Mikel knew they were ready to respond to the slightest hint of trouble. Due to the lack of Security Armor, he concluded that they must be Security Attaches, which emphasized the importance of their visit here. Definitely a mistake in the art of negotiations.

"Are you ready to receive the next two?" the blonde with a Lieutenant Junior Grade insignia addressed him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Mikel responded icily.

"All clear," he addressed his communicator. "You may energize."

The transporter then proceeded to lock onto two more materializing shapes. These also were terran - one male and one female. The male was a little above average height, but had the stockier appearance of one who came from a higher gravity planet. Short blonde hair sprouted above piercing blue eyes on an angular face. What he recognized as a Personal Gravity Generator started beeping activating its programmed audio "Planetary gravitational constant is equal to PGG programmed constant. Commencing shutdown." Gears appeared to be turning in the terran's head as he checked out his PGG. Mikel couldn't shake the feeling that he and this gentleman had met somewhere before. The female, though, was a few inches shorter with black hair that had silver in some spots, being what Mikel would call a knockout.

Mikel pummelled one of the many buttons on a pad rigged to the transporter console. "They're here Gloria. You want to take care of them?"

"Be right there Mikey."

"Mikey, always Mikey," Mikel groaned. "I know - check out 20th century Terran advertising."

"With knowledge comes tolerance," she replied cheerfully, an attractive redhead gliding through the doors that swished open at his back. "Hello, you must be the people from Starfleet. Our representative to the UFP is expecting you all in the conference room."

Gloria escorted the four of them down a hallway busy with people on their way to destinations that were oblivious to the Starfleet observers. In a short while they were deposited in a large room, the Security Attaches taking up positions around the door, with one large table surrounded by several seats. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a bar with drinks - alcoholic and non-alcoholic - and various drugs which on other worlds, if not over the counter, were either illegal or required a doctors' prescription.

Standing by the bar, smoking a cigarette - which by the smell could be identified as containing a blend of tobacco and marijuana - was a lady in her early forties, blonde with blue eyes, the same angular face as Christopher, and still beautiful after an absence of eight years. A lady who Christopher thought he would never see again.

"Mother?" Christopher whispered, his eyes glistening with moisture. "Is it really you?"

"Yes it is Christopher," tears flowing freely past her gleaming smile. "We've been expecting you."

"Commander - if you could please turn around," Christopher requested, still looking at his mother. "I don't think you should see this conduct unbecoming of a Starfleet officer."

"Come on T.J. There isn't anything in the General Orders about not being able to hug your own mother," tears flowing down Heather's face, the emotional intensity in the room overwhelming here psychic shields. "Now go on before I make you do it myself."

"Not being able to hold himself, or his joy, back any longer - Christopher slowly walked toward his mother, taking in everything that he missed all these years, trying to convince himself that it couldn't be a dream. Putting her cigarette down in a nearby dehumidifier and deionizing ventilation unit, Irene Jansen Edwards - daughter of Thomas Jansen the founder of Jansen Dilithium - took her son of twenty-six years into her arms.

* * *

"Lieutenant Rally!" Ensign Dreyfus rushed into the Main Security Office.

"Yes, ensign?" Rally deigned to look up from his monitor.

"We just found Rodriguez unconscious in the Shuttle bay, and one of the Shuttlecraft is missing!"

"Damn!" Rally's fist struck the desk. "There are half a dozen alarms designed to prevent the theft of a shuttlecraft - in addition to the ship's sensors which would detect such a departure. What in the hell happened?"

"It seems the alarms were overridden," Dreyfus started to perspire under the Security Chief's gaze. "And as far as the sensors go, the Shuttlecraft must have been cloaked."

"What do the visuals show?"

"It was definitely the intruder masquerading as Lieutenant O'Halloran."

"Great! Just great!"

* * *

Christopher gazed over at his mother who was seated on the far side of the conference table, while Heather droned on in his ear.

"Sorry to cut off the question and answer session TJ. But you can't cover a period of eight years before we start to negotiate a deal. Now, I know she is your mother, but your currently assigned to the Saratoga. So," Heather took a deep breath focusing on Irene. "Shall we begin?"

"Not before I get you two something," Irene answered. "A cigarette? Tobacco imported from London, England. Cannabis from Edison, an island down south near the equatorial region. Filters and nonfilters. Saurian Brandy?"

"No thank you mother. We're on duty."

"Oh posh. Nobody's ever died from one cigarette - or from one brandy. Well how about a pineapple juice dear? You always did like pineapple juice."

"Sure, that will be fine."

"And you, Commander?"

"An Altair Water would be fine Mrs. Edwards."

"Call me Irene."

"Only if you call me Heather."

"So, Heather," Irene began filling up glasses at the bar. "The UFP needs dilithium - and you would like us to be your supplier."

"That's correct Irene. Since your presence was a complete secret, what else would we be here for?"

"So what do you have in exchange," ignoring the previous question. "As my son probably told you, Federation credits are to risky a commodity to deal with here. Fiat money you know. If the UFP had stock, I would just as soon get rich by selling it short."

"So, I've been informed."

"Oh come now Heather. You don't really expect us to accept currency that has been devaluating year after year due to its increased supply?"

"I don't expect you to accept anything that you don't want to accept. Trade can't exist without mutual consent."

"Bravo!" Irene clapped. "You must have heard that from Christopher. But, that still brings us to the original question."

"Well, how about Saurian Brandy?" Heather replied.

"Hmmm? Forty cases per kilogram should do it."

"The vast differences in cargo space between import and export would be unacceptable due to its inefficiency," Christopher interjected. "Also, the UFP wouldn't appreciate our driving the price of brandy up due to the strict controls on its manufacture."

"True, but I was hoping they would make an exception in this case," Heather smirked. "How about denebian fire diamonds?"

"Similar problem. Briann Intergalactic has a government supported monopoly in fire diamonds. The prices would skyrocket. The efficiency in cargo space would be excellent though."

"How about synthesized gems?"

"Sorry, " Irene turned grim. "We have no problem making our own. Not much value to them anyway."

"Platinum?" Heather sighed.

"Same problem as gold," from Irene this time. "Due to the increased finds in asteroid mining and the increased productivity in mining techniques, the mass ratio would be ridiculous. How about tritanium?"

"Sorry, Federation embargo against planets who won't agree to the restrictions on its use or to who they trade," Heather frowned. "Now if you would be willing to sign a binding contract..?"

"Then how about a withdrawal of the legislation that prevents Leeding, Corp. from building the Arbosian Merchant Association a Gagarin Class Science Scout vessel?"

"Same problem," answered Christopher. "In addition that technology is Starfleet classified."

"And how are we supposed to conduct efficient interstellar trade and exploration without advance warp drive vessels? Warp three isn't enough nowadays."

"Irene, how about we agree to cargo runs to any star in this sector?"

"Now Heather, if I may misquote a phrase. Sell a man a fish and he eats for a day. Sell a man a fishing pool and he eats until the warranty expires."

"You taught me that when I was seven years old," Christopher broke in. "Remember when you first decided to home school me? When you and dad filled my head with economics, philosophy, political science, and..."

"TJ," Heather interjected sternly.

"Sorry."

"The problem is, Irene, that if you were to be able to manufacture Starfleet vessels - with your planet's views towards the Federation - you would become a threat towards the welfare of the UFP."

"No, only its government - as a worse case scenario of course," Irene supplied with a smile. "We promote peace through free trade, not from playing interstellar policeman. Yet, you call us a threat? Through our methods everybody profits. Through yours, everybody suffers. When you can think of anything that would be worth trading for our dilithium - let me know. But until then, I have other things that need to be taken care of."

"But, mother..."

"Now Christopher, it would hardly be in my best interest to ignore all our other customers for Starfleet's benefit. Why that could almost be considered...taxation!" she said with a mock gasp. "But I would appreciate your coming over for dinner tonight. Give you a chance to see your father again. Bring a date. Take some shore leave."

"We'll see mother, but I can't guarantee anything."

* * *

As their molecules reassociated back aboard the USS Saratoga, Edwards blurted for the question he had been holding back. "Well, can I?"

"Can you what?" Heather smirked knowingly.

"Can...I...go...to...my...parent's...house...for...dinner?" Christopher asked, with a comically dense look on his face, as they stepped out of the transporter room. "Gee, I feel like someone out of Leave it to Beaver."

"Leave it to who?"

"Earth, twentieth century specifically 1960-1995, television. Reference the Leave it to Beaver show, the New Leave it to Beaver show, and the Newest Leave it to Beaver show. For a side reference there is Eddie Haskel Takes On Morality, 1996 - but I don't think you'd like it."

"Where did you pick up all this information on television?"

"Oh, it was part of my education. When I was home schooled by my parents, they insisted on a complete understanding of twentieth century Homo sapien - and in order to achieve this understanding you had to understand the major media they were exposed to."

"Namely television."

"Right," Christopher nodded. "So, I figure if you send one of our friends in Security down with me to dinner?"

"I'll see if I can have one of the ladies pose as your date."

"Serena and I have gone out a few times," Edwards commented helpfully.

"Ensign Carthos of Martian Colony IV?"

"Well...you see...I taught her Hapkido so she could understand some of the roots of Starfleet Arrest Control Techniques."

"I see," Heather smirked knowingly, some of her previous fears concerning TJ dissipating. "I'll see what I can do. Believe me, it would help us tremendously if you could soften your mother up."

"I know...I know," Christopher sighed.

* * *

Christopher scanned through the terminal in his quarters, where he was again confined, going over the reports of the Political Specialists that were sent down to Arbos-II. The results did not look good. If he were to have commented on it himself, he would say that the results looked downright frustrating.

Freedom Dilithium wouldn't sell because the USS Saratoga didn't have anything to offer. Pax Dilithium and Spooner Dilithium wouldn't sell to any government agencies because of the oppressive ways in which they would use the dilithium. While Smythe Dilithium, Abbott Dilithium, and Kirkland Dilithium wouldn't sell because Jansen Dilithium wouldn't sell - basically trusting her lead.

It seemed that the only way to get any Dilithium was to do a sensor scan of the planet, find an unmined deposit of dilithium, stake out a claim and mine it themselves. It would be perfectly legal - but it wouldn't do relations with the planet a bit of good, especially with a government subsidized business competing with free-marketeers. And if mining weren't done carefully, damage to the environment of the surrounding private property would result in several lifetimes worth of restitution payments. If there were just some way he could turn the rules to his advantage.

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