What's Up Doc?
Location: Bajor, Jalanda City, near the spaceport
Braedyn made his way to the tavern he'd arranged to meet the man he hoped would become the Juan Cortina's new physician. Haneri had been forced to leave abruptly and he had precious little time to acquire her replacement. Entering the tavern, Braedyn found a seat in a quiet corner where he could see the entire establishment and all of the patrons and had a good view of both the front and back entrances. He ordered a beer which arrived in short order and waited for his potential new crew member to arrive.
It had felt a little odd to step foot on Bajor. He had gotten a few stares, and a young man had spit at his feet, but it certainly wasn't something that surprised him. Romulans were still people who couldn't be trusted, therefore, he understood... well sort of. These Bajorans didn't know him, or that he was technically exiled, but what these particular people thought really didn't matter to him. He still had his duffle slung over his shoulder as he entered the tavern that Captain Tann had invited him too. He entered the tavern, people looked up and then went back to their drinks. He spotted the gray haired man in a quiet corner and approached.
"Captain Tann?" he queried.
Braedyn had seen the Rhiannsu man enter the bar. Even without the telltale forehead ridges, there was no mistaking him for a Vulcan, or even a Rigelian. The way he carried himself didn't fit those two cultures. No, this guy was almost definitely a Romulan.
"I'm Captain Tann," Braedyn said. He looked at the PaDD he'd brought with him. The Romulan's face matched the digital image Braedyn had. "Please, sit, Doctor Rehu. Am I pronouncing that correctly? I have a passing familiarity with both High Rihan and Romlesta but no one would call me fluent by any stretch of the imagination."
Nal lifted his duffle off his shoulder and sat it down on the floor as he took a seat across from the other man. "You are pronouncing it correctly, yes," he replied in a succinct, clear tone. He spoke basic rather fluently, so there would no need to speak his native tongue, at least at this point it was his preference. The less he had to deal with his heritage, the better. He studied the captain, taking in his features, watching his movements and subtle facial ticks. There was no indication the human was uncomfortable around him.
"So, Doctor," Braedyn said. "Normally I spend a lot of time feeling people out about who they are and what they're about. I'm going to do a little bit of that here. However, I'm pressed for time and I don't want to go through all of that just to find out you don't want the job, so let me lay it out for you. The Juan Cortina is basically a freelance special missions ship. Sometimes we haul cargo, usually either because a client is in a pinch and needs their cargo delivered ASAP, or because the cargo is in someway valuable and needs to secure transport. Just recently, we transported some ore for a client who was being threatened by an Orion Caju (corporation), a competing mining interest, with connections to the Orion Syndicate. They needed someone to give these guys a bloody nose to convince them that whatever they were trying to accomplish with their threats wasn't worth the hassle. While transporting the cargo, we did everything we could think of to make ourselves look like a tempting target. We lured the pirates the Syndicate was using to a secluded spot on the space lanes . When they attacked, we kicked their asses and sent them packing. Then we delivered the cargo and moved on to the next job. Not everything we do is so exciting. We just hauled some cargo on what was a very uneventful trip. Now we're about to haul some archaeologists to the Gamma Quadrant. There's more to it than that, but that's need to know. Until you're a member of the crew, you don't need to know."
Braedyn took a sip of his beer.
"We're based out of the Rigel System, and we'll be returning to Rigel IV regularly," he said. "I have an arrangement with a place you can sleep, eat, and bathe at while we're there. The work pays well and I cover your wages if the client stiffs us or if we take on a charity case. In general, while we'll do some simple jobs, we'll also be taking on a lot of sensitive missions for a variety of clients. To reassure you, my intent is to do some good, not become an interstellar criminal. So, does this kind of thing interest you, Doctor? Or should we go our several ways?"
Nal sat there for a few moments silent as he tapped a long index finger against the table top. He had to admit it was a lot of information to take in, but he appreciate the rundown. It wasn't like he was new to all this, to him it was nothing but a different ship with different people. "You need a doctor, and I need a job," Nal replied. "You seem like a fair man, and nothing you have told me is off putting... in fact, it all sounds fine to me." He extended a hand over the table. "Where do I sign?"
"We'll get to that," Braedyn said. "My second officer and security chief is Romulan. Is that going to be a problem?"
Nal with drew his hand and leaned back in his chair, he crossed one leg over the other and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why would it be a problem?" he asked. He had been surprised to hear there was another Romulan that was apart of the crew, but he didn't show it. He had wondered how this other Romulan came to cross the Federation border, but felt it wasn't right to question that... yet. "I have no allegiance to the Romulan Empire anymore, Captain. My sole duty is the duty to medicine and to help others where possible. If you think I may start something or get entangled in some sort of Romulan take over plot, you are sorely mistaken."
"Oh please," Braedyn said dismissively. "Spare me the melodrama. I checked you out. I wasn't worried about that. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have a problem working with another Romulan. That's all. So, do you have any unfinished business following you around? When you join this crew, your problems become our problems. If you're in trouble, we're in trouble. So we look after each other."
Nal's upswept eyebrows furrowed. Melodrama? Really? He wasn't sure how his deadpan tone was dramatic, but he had found humans tended to see things that weren't there. "If you checked me out, you would know if there were baggage or problems that were following me around," he said. "As far as the other Romulan..." He rolled his shoulders into a shrug. "If they don't make trouble, I won't make trouble. It's really that simple." He didn't care if there was another Romulan around, the fact they would be serving on a cargo hauler just meant their predicament was probably just as dire as his own.
Braedyn's eyes narrowed.
"Look, kid," Braedyn said. "That king-sized chip on your shoulder isn't doing you any favors. All I was saying was that my crew, we look out for each other. So if you do have any problems following you around, I want to know about them so we can be prepared to deal with them. We're far more than a cargo-hauler, Doctor, so we need to have each other's backs. Here's the deal: You're a medical doctor, and I find myself in need of a medical doctor. So I'm going to hire you for this job we've taken. If it works out, I'll offer you the job for keeps. If not, we'll go our several ways. Deal?"
Braedyn offered his hand.
Kid? Nal wanted to make a face, he also wanted to slug the man but refrained. He also wondered where the 'king-sized chip on your shoulder' came from. Being blunt, even being a bit defensive, didn't mean he had a chip--let alone a king sized one--on his shoulder. He took the offered hand. "Sounds fair enough," he said as he shook the offered hand. "You have a deal."
"Great," Braedyn said. He gave the Romulan a scrap of paper with a number on it. "That's where you'll find us. We're leaving as soon as possible so finish up what business you have here on Bajor and report in. And Doctor..."
Braedyn offered a friendly smile.
"Welcome aboard," he said.