Eighteen Bricks and a New Beginning
Posted on Wed Jan 7th, 2026 @ 8:36am by Captain Zedd Sykes
1,216 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Acquisitions & Contracts
Location: New Ferenginar Ship Yards
Timeline: Date 2380-01-01 at 1530
Captain Zedd Lafayette Sykes stepped off the rickety shuttle ramp and into the thick humid bustle of Profit Plaza New Ferenginar’s sprawling capital. The air hit him like a damp towel marsh fog laced with starship exhaust sizzling street food and the faint tang of replicated bloodwine from a dozen vendors. Neon signs flashed overhead in garish colors promising everything from “genuine” Romulan ale to “guaranteed” warp core alignments. Towering skyscrapers rose around him their holobillboards cycling through the Rules of Acquisition like religious mantras.
Zedd adjusted his leather jacket the familiar weight of his concealed dataport a quiet reminder at the base of his neck. He’d come a long way on anonymous freighters Vault of Shadows fortune converted to bricks of gold pressed latinum and tucked safely away. Freedom was close he could taste it but the Black Nebula and Crimson Corsairs had long memories. He needed a ship. Something fast discreet and capable of disappearing when necessary.
He spotted the cluster of starship vendor storefronts and wove through the crowd. Ferengi merchants darted between off worlders like schools of fish lobes twitching at every potential deal. Humans Bajorans even a few Cardassians moved with wary eyes many sporting glowing exemption badges to avoid the planet’s more colorful customs.
Zedd pushed through the door of Zorol’s Stellar Emporium. The showroom was cavernous filled with flickering holograms of ships in various states of repair. Negotiation drones hummed overhead and the occasional satisfied cackle echoed from a back office.
Behind the polished counter stood Zorol himself a squat Ferengi with lobes that gleamed under the lights dressed in a suit that screamed latinum from every embroidered thread.
“Ah a customer with discerning taste!” Zorol’s grin flashed sharpened teeth. “Zorol at your service. What can I interest you in today? A nimble shuttle? A sturdy freighter for… private cargo?”
Zedd leaned on the counter roguish beard framing an easy smirk. “Save the sales pitch. I’m looking for something with teeth fast armed not too flashy. And no questions about previous owners.”
Zorol’s eyes narrowed appraising him. “No questions? That costs extra. But first customs. Male off worlder. Traditional attire required: prosthetic lobes modest codpiece. Enhances focus you know.”
Zedd chuckled already pulling out a small pouch. “Heard about your traditions. I’ll pay the exemption. How much?”
Zorol rubbed his hands together. “Wise choice! Five strips for males upfront non refundable.”
“Five?” Zedd raised an eyebrow feigning shock. “That’s steep.”
“Profit is profit.” Zorol shrugged.
Zedd slid the strips across. Zorol bit one to test it then pinned a glowing badge to Zedd’s jacket with a flourish.
“Welcome to civilized commerce. Now the ship. I have exactly what you need. Saber class refit. Light cruiser. Once a patrol vessel now perfectly suited for independent work. Name’s the Dutchman. Sleek capable 364 meters of opportunity.”
Zedd’s interest sharpened. He’d studied Saber refits on the run compact warp capable room for a small crew firepower to discourage trouble. “Specs?”
Zorol activated a hologram. The ship rotated slowly sleek hull tucked nacelles extended shuttlebay aft.
“Length 364.77 meters eight decks standard crew forty but runs fine lean. Warp 7 cruise 9.7 max 9.85 emergency for two hours. Ten multi frequency shield generators auto modulating metaphasic regenerative. Type 2 ablative armor. Four Type XII phaser arrays dual torpedo launchers full loadout photons quantums tri cobalts. Six Type 11 shuttles Danube runabout four Workerbees convertible to Attackwasps.”
Zedd nodded slowly. “Price?”
“Twenty five bricks” Zorol said smoothly. “A bargain.”
Zedd laughed. “Twenty five for a refit with patches? Fifteen.”
“Fifteen? You wound me! Twenty three and a full resupply.”
The haggling kicked off in earnest Zedd poking at “outdated” AI “questionable” sensor dampeners Zorol touting hidden cargo bays and stealth refits. Passersby slowed to watch the familiar dance.
Half an hour later Zorol threw up his hands. “Twenty bricks final!”
“Eighteen” Zedd countered “and we inspect her in orbit.”
Zorol hesitated lobes twitching then nodded. “Eighteen pending inspection. Let’s go.”
They took a private shuttle from the rooftop pad rising through marshy skies until New Ferenginar fell away and the orbital rings came into view massive structures bustling with traffic. Zorol directed them to Docking Ring Alpha.
The Dutchman hung clamped to an external berth hull catching station lights a sleek refitted arrowhead with faded Federation markings. Zedd felt the pull immediately. This could be it.
They beamed aboard directly to the bridge. Consoles hummed softly viewscreen showing the Gamma Quadrant’s starfield.
Zorol spread his arms. “Pristine. Engines tuned core purring.”
Zedd jacked in via dataport data streaming straight to mind. Systems solid AI outdated but tweakable weapons and shields as advertised hidden bay spacious.
He disconnected. “She’s good. But runabout thrusters need alignment Workerbees calibration. Seventeen bricks.”
Zorol’s lobes flushed. “Seventeen? Nineteen final!”
“Eighteen” Zedd said firmly “and clean registry transfer. No traces.”
Zorol paced muttering Rules of Acquisition under his breath. Finally he extended a hand. “Eighteen. Deal.”
Latinum transferred. Zorol beamed out with a last satisfied cackle.
Zedd stood alone on the bridge settling into the captain’s chair. The padding fit like it had been waiting. The Gamma Quadrant waited beyond the screen trade lanes nebulae dangers opportunities.
Freedom. Or close enough.
But forty stations for one man made the ship feel hollow. He tapped the console.
“Computer maintain standard orbit around New Ferenginar. Low emission sensor dampeners visible but boring. No departure yet.”
“Acknowledged Captain Sykes. Orbit stable. Traffic control query estimated in fourteen hours.”
“Plenty of time.”
Zedd leaned forward scanning readouts. The Dutchman was perfect fast armed discreet but she needed crew. Skilled hands he could trust or at least ones that wouldn’t sell him out first chance.
New Ferenginar was risky for recruiting informants everywhere Corsairs had reach but it was also the best market: misfits exiles talent looking for profit without oversight.
Zedd stood adjusting his jacket and headed for the turbolift. “Computer open secure channel to Docking Ring Beta public directory. Filter crew recruitment boards mercenary listings Cantina Row forums. Priority engineers pilots tactical specialists medical. Flag any Black Nebula or Crimson Corsair mentions.”
“Channel open. Compiling listings.”
He drafted the posting from the ready room terminal simple and professional:
--
Independent light cruiser Dutchman seeks experienced crew for long range exploration and private venture operations in the Gamma Quadrant.
Positions: First Mate, Engineering, Pilots, Weapons Officers, Medical, General Deck Crew.
Competitive shares of profit. No questions about past affiliations.
Discretion assured. Inquire aboard Berth 47 A Docking Ring Alpha.
Captain Zedd Sykes.
--
Light encryption broadcasted across the right boards.
Then he prepped a shuttle for Cantina Row. Face to face was still best for reading eyes.
At the viewport he paused a moment. New Ferenginar spun below orbital traffic glittering. Somewhere in that chaos the crew that would turn this ship into something real was waiting.
“Computer monitor responses. Wake me for direct pings. Shields on standby.”
The computer acknowledged.
Zedd stepped into the shuttle hatch sealing behind him.
The Dutchman held quiet orbit sleek and waiting her captain already hunting the right kind of trouble to fill her decks.
Out here freedom wasn’t just a ship.
It was the people who made her fly.
And Zedd was just getting started.
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