Levels Two

Posted on 21 Nov 2012 @ 7:10am by Lieutenant JG Donovan Muldaur
Edited on on 21 Nov 2012 @ 4:38pm

1,707 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: Vega Colony, Shopping District
Timeline: MD08 1945 hours

[ON]

Having so far introduced herself as only Maenad the Starfleet officer, the impressionable black-haired woman was no longer smiling as she walked down the crowded Vegan street with him. She released the gentle grip she had had on his elbow and slipped her skeletal hand into her coat pocket. He prepared for this, however. She was unpredictable if she were anything, but she was predictably unpredictable; he did not know for certain which of her many moods she would present to him, but he was prepared for all of them. He had hoped that her unconscious loneliness would have allowed him to befriend her almost immediately, which seemed to have been working. She was no fool, he knew. If only he could have heard her thoughts.

"How did you get to Vega?" she asked, turning to look at him as they walked.

He shrugged. "I'm doing personal botanical research," he lied. "I'm an arborist."

She inclined her head in response, returning her attention to walking. "An arborist who is also a musician," she observed, her tone difficult.

He could see why she was still alone, he thought without changing his expression. Her way of communicating was challenging, to say the least, but he had prepared for and was expecting exactly this less-immediate Maenad. In order to get to her good side, he had to argue with her. At least, that was what his studying and endless reviewing of her files had taught him. Somehow none of that seemed relevant anymore; despite her austereness, he thought that not only did she look fragile in the flesh, but he felt that she was fragile of mind, emotionally. An argument felt wrong; he had to improvise.

"I almost went into Starfleet," he said passively, "And still, sometimes I wish I had."

Maenad grinned. "No offence, but you don't look like somebody you would find in Starfleet."

"Well, neither do you," Don quipped back to her, honestly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Maenad asked, knowing full-well what it meant.

Perhaps an argument was unavoidable. "Well, for starters, I can't see you stopping a Borg. What could you do if a Romulan or Cardassian attacked you? A Klingon, even? They would crush you like a bug - even a Romulan."

Maenad was smiling again. "I have a good shot, you might be surprised to know." He wasn't. "And, if I didn't have a phaser, nobody can run faster than I can."

"You would run away?"

"No," she snapped back. "I wouldn't lose my phaser. And, I have a good kick."

"Uh huh," Don nodded sarcastically.

Maenad laughed quietly and took a sip of the coffee she still had, and so did he. They walked a little further, the sun starting disappear behind the horizon as the city lights started coming on. The sky turned into a violet dusk as he led the way, shortly arriving in front of brightly-lit store in the base of a towering skyscraper. The storefront was entirely glass and displayed a wide variety of musical instruments from all across the galaxy. The glowing white banner sign above the large display windows read Bok's Intergalactic Music Emporium.

"You won't find a better piano on Vega than in here," Don told Maenad, turning to look at her as they stood across the street. He could see the skepticism in her eyes. "The name doesn't do it justice," he reassured her. "Come on," he put his arm around her waist to usher her forward with him, and the two of them pushed through the current of street shoppers to get to the other side.

The glass doors weren't automatic, so Don held one open for Maenad to go in ahead of him. They tossed their empty coffee cups into a trashbin on the way inside. The silence of the store's interior was almost deafening, except for a very faint background-playing classical piece which neither Don nor Maenad recognised. It was all one level, but the store extended far back. The walls were displayed with many dozens of instruments including many types of guitars, woodwinds, and brass. On the floor there were larger instruments; drums, pianos, harps, various types of percussion and xylophone-like mallet instruments. Being somewhat familiar with Bajoran culture, Maenad was surprised to see a belaklavion on display.

Seemingly out of nowhere came a Ferengi man wearing, even more stunningly than the belaklavion, a black tuxedo. "Good evening, I am Bok. Might I be of service?" he asked humbly. He even lacked the expected lisp that plagued the Ferengi. His English was immaculate, and Maenad thought it better than hers, which was almost completely undetectable.

"Johann Sebastian?" Maenad asked him with a pleasant smile.

"You honour me, Miss...?"

"Panne, Monsieur," she said in French.

"Ah, vous-etes francaise?"

"Certainement," Maenad replied with a girlish curtsy.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle, but my French would not do you justice." Bok the humble, learned, and apparently cultured Ferengi said with a bow. "How can I be of assistance to you?"

"We are looking for the absolute best piano money can buy," Don interjected.

"Well," Maenad began, "I just have to like it, the best is--"

"Over here!" The Ferengi held up a finger to silence her. "The best is over here, and like Bach played, Bok sells only the best!" He spun around on his heels, his coattails flapping with him, and hurried over to where he had several pianos on display. He walked up to an eight-foot long glistening grand piano and sat down. He slammed his fingers down on the middle C scale and played a full scale circle. "The Steinway and Sons Model D." He held out is arms, presenting it. "It implores you!"

Don brought his eyes to Maenad's. "What do you think?"

Maenad narrowed her eyes, looking like she was having second thoughts. "No, this is far too big," she said after a moment.

"Too big?" Bok was borderline incredulous for a very brief second. "I mean, of course. Where is it going?"

"In my quarters," Maenad said to him, starting to walk around to look at the other pianos. "It's on a Nova-class Federation starship."

"Federation... I see," Bok's voice sounded cunning, almost conniving. "So you really do mean the best money can buy." He slowly rose from the bench in front of his piano.

Maenad had found an upright piano that looked quite nice. It was a about a metre and a half in length, made of veneered birch and was also a Steinway. She pulled out the bench, sat down, and played a few bars from the Aria of the real Bach's Golberg Variations. Don had moved beside her, watching her play. When she had finished, Maenad was smiling up at him - it was absolutely perfect.

"Ah, yes, the Steinway Model 4510 Sheraton. An excellent choice." Bok grinned.

Maenad ran her long fingers over the keys once more, but didn't press any of them, before looking back to the Ferengi salesman. "How much?"

"Fifty thousand," he replied instantly.

He might have been modest, but he was still a Ferengi. Maenad eyed him, her grin unfaltering. She looked over the piano once more, before returning her eyes to him. Fifty thousand was a lot, but it also didn't mean a thing to her. Maenad never spent her money on anything; she couldn't remember the last thing she had bought. That was the benefit of Federation living; she could have obtained the same piano on Earth for free from the actual craftsmen themselves. "Is this authentic?" she asked, knowing that it was.

"Who's your supplier?" Don chimed in.

Bok nodded. "I assure you that it most certainly is!" he insisted. "I deal them on Vega for those who aren't in the Federation. Steinway has a galactic reputation, you know. I have the certificate of authenticity, I swear it!"

Maenad stood from the bench and pushed it in. "All right, then. I will take it for forty-five thousand."

"Forty-seven and it's yours," Bok said back to her.

"Forty-five, or I will get one for free next time I'm on Earth," Maenad's face had gone blank and her green eyes held Bok's.

He hesitated, looked at the floor for a frustrated moment as though considering losing her, and conceded. "Forty-five it is," Bok looked both disappointed and pleased at the same time.

Maenad reached into her coat pocket and retrieved a credit for the specified amount and handed it over to him, over which he seemed to lavish. "I will have it beamed to my ship, then,"

"Of course, thank you," Bok shrunk away with the credit chip between his hands.

"Thank you, Don," Maenad nodded to him. "I never would have found this place without you."

Time was running short. He had to act. "It was my pleasure, Miss Panne," he nodded to her. "I am glad we met."

Maenad gave a quick nod. "As am I," she replied, sucking in her lips. She looked hesitant, even nervous, for a moment. "Would you like to come back to my ship? I will make you dinner; it's the least I can do."

There, thought Don. Things had not gone exactly as he had thought they would, but the end result was still the same. He got to where he needed to be and was still on target. "I would like that very much," was all he said.

Maenad pressed her lips together and removed the commbadge from the inside pocket of her coat. "Lieutenant Panne to the Galileo; lock onto my coordinates and beam one piano, myself, and one other directly to my quarters."

"Aye, sir," came the reply. "Ready when you are."

"Ready?" She asked Don, who had moved closer to her. He nodded. "Energise," she said. As they shimmered away into a sparkling blue and white dissipating cloud, Donovan only thought objective complete.

[OFF]

Lieutenant (JG) Donovan Muldaur
SFI Operative
Starfleet Intelligence

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

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