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Posted on Sat May 27th, 2017 @ 7:54am by Commander Tyro Adina

Mission: Winter Shoreleave
Location: Betazed
Timeline: Convention

:: ON ::

A couple things stood out to anyone forced to attend a convention along with their ship. First, most officers went for the booze-fests and after-parties, Tyro not included. The other thing was that conventions such as these were fabulous spots for buying oddities you couldn't get anywhere else. A replicator was a grand thing, but its limitations could not be understated, especially for those in the Federation who touched down on dry earth so infrequently.

The galaxy was a small place however, apparently. For a time she had sold stolen artifacts aboard Tranquility, but after that particular quest-line had not brought her the infamy and money she desired, Milou had expanded her game. She was a tall alien, a species from within Yvor space. She'd played at being a diplomat for a time, but the realities of her society meant it would never be more than a token, insubstantial position. Milou's life had come to be tied with Tranquility. If not for the dredging up of the old ship, she would never have escaped the repressive Yvor life that so many worlds that side of space suffered.

Milou felt no responsibility, nor was her escape particularly just or benevolent. She was just a merchant at heart, and even in the moneyless Federation there was always something interesting to sell.

"That's a funny uniform," she said, recognition not advertised on her face. She smiled. Behind her were a number of hangers, her booth apparently. Milou had set up her venue outside the main conference hall, because what she was selling needed space. The hangars, much more sophisticated than the little stall Milou had kept aboard the ship so long ago, were intelligent fabrics sealed by bulky emitter towers, which cast force-fields over the interior spaces of the mobile warehouses. Milou kept to what she was good at, selling artifacts with real value, instead of forcing herself to invent it like some ferengi. Even if a buyer found her repellent, they could seldom refute the preciousness of her cargo.

Her comment to the Tranquility officer was ironic, given that Milou was dressed in a uniform of her own. She was in cosplay as a soldier from Earth's distant past. She wore a peaked cap with tarnished metal stars, and the fabrics of her uniform appeared primitive and distinctly unintelligent. Fortunately, Milou did not have the entire ensemble, and her leggings were of modern design and crafted out of the finest smart-fabrics of the late 24th century.

"You're impressed," she noted, turning her back. "This isn't no fabrication either. It's the true, genuine article! See these spots?" Milou indicated a faint smear of blemishes soaked into the old uniform. "This is real blood! These funky robes are witness to some of the most violent and embarrassing episodes in earthling history! Just take one look at the beast at my back. Beautiful innit? A monster of the earth and sky, responsible for unimaginable carnage. You can't find anything like it anywhere else, I guarantee..."

Behind Milou was a slightly pock-marked war-plane. It had green skin, although it was chipped and dented by some kind of physical impact event, as if it'd been struck by a hail of tiny metal projectiles. It was sleek, with up-swept wings and a rotary device at the end of its nose. It had a glass compartment for steering, and a crude sexually suggestive inscription along one side.

"Ooooohh..." Kaelin droned, moving toward the ancient aircraft. "I've seen planes like this. Well, in the holodeck. Some program called the Battle of Britain, it was popular a few years back." Kaelin shrugged. She had no idea when that battle had taken place. Like many people in Starfleet she cared little for the past, and looked mostly toward the future. "Where on Earth did you find this thing? It must be centuries old."

Milou touched her nose and winked. "On Earth, you say? What gave you that idea?" A good smuggler does not reveal her sources. "That's mighty fascinating! Undoubtedly, here is a discovery that has soared through history itself. From the Battle of Brit Ten, and carving pivotal moments until it joins us now, here! Now, I'm no religious fool, believe me... but could this truly be anything but fate? You're interested, I take it?" Milou closed in and offered her hand to shake.

"I feel quite confident to guarantee that an artifact like this will not be in my inventory by day's end."'

:: OFF ::

Illicit Goods Trader
Civilian, SS Domaine

Kaelin Vex
Chief Flight Control Officer


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