MrDrankum

SO LONG AND FAREWELL An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. Including Excerpts from “Lamb in a Divided House” Copyright © 2010, A Halloway Production. Stardate 1002.25, 14:56 hours - 29th of April, 2385 VIP Dining Room – Sky Harbor Aegis They had been sitting, eating and making small talk for almost two hours. Midway through, acting First Officer Jorahl and Doctor McKinny, their company, had left. They were alone. Thomas Halloway, one of only ten people to have ever commanded Aegis and the current leader of the U.S.S. Yorktown. Drankum, the Ferengi who had been associated with the station for twelve years and been leading it for one. Trust in the present seemed absent; trust in the past might be their only way out. With privacy, the real problem could now be discussed. Or could it? Drankum shook his head, “That was probably the plan, Captain Halloway. No one left to know or care about past deeds…” The Ferengi looked up and to smile. “Only to see the galaxy’s sterotypes. How could I ever know anything about tactics?” Halloway felt a twinge at Drankum’s remark. He folded his arms. “They don’t know anything about your role in the war, do they?” Drankum blinked, tilting his head. “I find myself a relic. The Great Material Continuum does not care about the past, only the future. But no, those who would have known have since moved on to more profitable things.” The Ferengi dropped to a neutral expression, looking far off. “I was supposed to retire you know, before being thrust here.” “Yes,” the captain acknowledged. “I was surprised when I saw the newsholos, after the Security Council’s decision.” Drankum blinked, returning his focus and aiming it at Halloway. “The game makes sense, even from a financial standpoint. This is the last need to maintain the international agreement. Once this fails, which it probably should have already, everyone will be able to go their separate ways. Profits are made, deals done.” He smiled thinly. “Even the Grand Nagus cannot complain, after all, a Ferengi is supposedly in charge.” His mockery was deliberate. … Stardate 1102.25, 20:19 hours – 17th of October, 2386 Secure Gate G7 - Miami Planetary Spaceport, Florida, Earth He had known that it would not last forever. Their approach had made it necessary and, despite apparent efforts, those involved had finally figured out no one was hiding in the empty suite so many light years away. Even with the Romulen’s efforts, apparently someone had obtained holofeed footage. At least they had made a substantial profit from selling it. The Great Material Continuum had a sense of irony if nothing else. As they stepped down the gangway, Patty smiled and held his arm tight. He had done this before, she not so much. At the time, he had hoped interest would fade and the annoyances would as well. While this would eventually transpire, it would move at a grub’s pace. For their part, continued status at least required continued security. The flashes were blinding. The noise was the most unprofitable thing he had heard in a long time. There were at least two hundred of them when they entered the terminal proper. By a conservative estimate, his name had been uttered eighty times in a minute. His title had been screamed twice that number. He was supposed to look left, look right, answer one question here, answer one there, answer…wait…did that Andorian female just propose marriage by flashing him? Retirement might have its perks. He wasn’t exactly working with the same board as before, but the Ferengi had figured that for the benefit of his own sanity, silence was not always bliss. After a conference message with Jint, they had both agreed that more interest existed in what might be said instead of what was going on. There was only one way to solve the problem, and get Patty some peace, and get him some peace, and enjoy the vacation he paid so much for, AND…something else that had just gone missing. “Well, humons and those that are in denial, I do have a brief moment,” he said approaching a podium lined with holorecorders. Several Federation Diplomatic Service guards were flanking him, as well as some additional terminal security persons keeping the press at bay. Patty stood, as she had for most of the trip, next to him. Drankum looked…relaxed. In fact, some would later claim he had stopped for surgery on his way to the humon homeworld. When he smiled, it was genuine. His shoulders were pushed back, he had a presence about him that Patty herself had not seen in many years. Even his cane somehow looked more expensive. His eyes were not weighted down, the face did not seem as gloomy. Even his skin seemed to reflect better. It took awhile for Patty to adjust. His face, this scene, was likely being broadcast literally everywhere live. What’s more, Drankum knew it. This might really be his last grand entrance. Within a few seconds a shocking reality hit the Bajoran…he was enjoying it! “Mister Ambassador, do you have any comment on the latest news of former Board of Liquidators Assistant Chief Amek’s indictment?,” a reporter asked. The Ferengi nodded, “Yes. Good. They are all unprofitable idiots and I hope every last strip of latinum is taken from their accounts.” “Why haven’t you spoken to the press before now?” “Because I think most of you would eat your own young most days and I had more important things to do.” “Have you spoken to people at Starfleet Command?” “Well, normally when a change takes place, every society loves paperwork. Your humon Starfleet is no exception. So yes, I spoke with them. I had to, now that I think about,” he paused and rubbed his chin. A slight shrug occurred, “Gave me a nice gift basket though, those spa tickets weren’t cheap.” Somewhere, some Admiral had just cursed his name. “Why are you here on Earth?” “Because I am on vacation, why are you here humon?,” Drankum said without missing a beat, pointing to a male Bolian at the back. The figure, taller than many, nodded slightly in acknowledgment. “Sir, your comment on reports that you were involved in a top level meeting on Fereginar that involved the First Clerk and the Grand Nagus days before the corruption probe within your government.” Ah. There it was, took a little longer than he expected. At this, Drankum paused for several moments. He glanced at Patty, then back at the holofeeds, adjusting his weight to cane ratio slightly. “My comment on the reports? Let’s just skip the unprofitable foreplay my blue humon wannabe. I was at the meeting,” the Ferengi said calmly. Suddenly the noise grew from the blob of supposed reporters. Really, did these creatures believe that screaming over one another was somehow going to increase the production value of their report? No wonder humon society had spent centuries trying to figure out ways to get rid of them. Hadn’t their World War III been about killing all the reporters? Or was that World War V? Apparently they missed a nest. Through all of the noise, Drankum heard a muffled question that he actually wanted to answer. Pointing to a female Vulcen in the back, the others silenced themselves. “As I was asking, is your sudden departure from the Aegis project a sign of your own involvement in the situation plaguing the Ferengi government?,” the logical being inquired. Drankum smiled and tilted his head. At that moment, for that very brief moment, he felt as if he was on top of the galaxy. That had been the question everyone really wanted an answer to, here, there…everywhere. It was the only nagging thing about the previous chess match he had just played. That game had ended well, this new one was far less certain. Then again, the stakes were not as high. After pondering his response for a good twenty seconds, the smile never leaving his face, Drankum spoke. “That is probably the most profitable question asked, and the one the rest of you really wish to know. Leave it to a pair of ears to ask. However entertaining rumors might be, the truth is that no…I was not involved in the current corruption probe within the Ferengi Alliance. After working with the upper levels of my government, I decided that the time had come for me to focus on more,” he paused searching for words, “personal matters.” He stopped again, questions started to be asked but he raised his left hand to indicate he was not yet finished. “My involvement in things involving Aegis has been a cornerstone of my career. That project, which many unprofitable fools are quick to criticize at every turn, has done more to bring cooperation between governments than anything I’ve seen in the last three decades. I did my job, I made my latinum, so now I get to enjoy the profits of my labor. Will I miss those back there? Some of them. Do I regret my decision? No, but…” “Were you forced into retirement by the Grand Nagus?” He hated being interrupted, yet it wasn’t the worst timing ever. He looked at the humon female to his right, “No, it was actually my idea. Check your history, I’ve tried to do it three times in my life. Fourth finally worked.” In normal circumstances, the press would do anything possible to continue to attempt an association where none existed. Yet all had known of the statement issued an hour earlier by First Clerk Jint personally, on behalf of the Grand Nagus, thanking Drankum for many dedicated years of profitable service and other platitudes. The message itself was done nicely, the fact Jint had been the one to make it though…that had been enough. An infant Pakled could have followed the profits on that one to know what it meant. As such, a simple ‘no’ was enough. And then it came. “Ambassador, it seems from statements issued today that the senior members of your government are quite pleased with you. Many were reportedly surprised by your decision…” Now, he cut one of them off, “Why retire?” Drankum paused again and looked at the ceiling directly ahead of him with a neutral expression. After a moment, a smile returned to his face as he prepared to answer. “As I had told a profitable person once before, I am a relic of a period and time that has since plundered its way into your history notes. While there are sometimes uses for such historical artifacts as me, they are limited. The Ferengi government, the Aegis Project, me….we have all done what was the most profitable during our time together. I have been involved in many interesting twists and turns, seen many things and even caused some of them. But nothing, not even the most profitable of ventures, lasts forever.” He paused again, “That and I heard of a great deal on a winter home on the Klingen homeworld.” He shrugged as some chuckles came from the remark. “Is it true you have signed a book deal?” Now that was surprising. He actually seemed a little taken aback by the question but figured the limits of journalistic bribing likely matched those of most Ferengi, “Yes.” The Drankum paused, reaching back and taking Patty’s hand, “I’ll take one more annoyance…we do have a rather expensive meal waiting.” This was starting to lose its appeal to him and, now that he technically wasn’t paid to care, he could leave whenever. “What do you say to those that are concerned the current crisis, on the frontier and in the Ferengi government, due to …” Alright, now that was just flat out irritating. He cut the male Bajoran off. Shifting his stance, Drankum let go of Patty’s hand for a moment and held one side of the podium. “What I have to say is simply this. No one in this galaxy is perfect. I did the most profitable I could for the longest I could. I survived more bankruptcy attempts, phaser blasts, unprofitable bureaucratic meltdowns, diplomatic fiascos, irritating Ambassadors, small brained officers of every denomination and other disgusting things longer than most,” he said calmly. Drankum paused and looked down at the podium for a moment before looking back up. “As for everything else,” he said lifting his left hand in the air and waving it slightly, “I’ve had a very profitable run. Now it is the kids’ turn to plunder the galaxy and clean up the mess…” A few more questions were being prepped, but he used his raised hand to motion a stop before they really got going. What some humons would describe as a boyish grin was on his face, at least the best one could find on someone of the species. “And with that I say….Tor-ang….Vaj tIq 'ej….Si longtemps et adieu…" Most didn’t immediately respond, some just took additional pictures. After all, who in their profitable mind would have thought he could speak native Vulcen, Klingen and humon French…correctly? Or was it? The galaxy is full of secrets, isn’t it? Before they could ask, he was gone. An hour later they were on some island Drankum couldn’t remember the name of, drinking something he couldn’t even pronounce, eating something he had never seen before…and enjoying every minute of it. While on a beach late that night, Patty had finally leaned over and asked. “What was it? What did you tell them?” she inquired inquisitively. It wasn’t as if either had turned on a terminal to watch the news. The Ferengi smiled and leaned back in the reclining chair. He sipped his drink and looked up at the stars. “So long and farewell.”

TWELVE An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. It was early morning, station time anyway. Patty had spent most of the last several days ensuring everything was prepared. The fact she had been forced to utilize outside help was something that, under normal circumstances, would have annoyed her Ferengi companion. Yet given the circumstances, it was a necessary evil and parting with the latinum hadn’t been all that difficult. Though, in some ways, it probably was the only thing that fit into that category. Patty Santi had made a home on Aegis. In fact, she had held a permanent residence here longer than any other time in her life. Sure, she had been back on Canar, but here…the sky harbor had been up and about for over a decade. Even before it was officially open, the bar had been busy keeping workers occupied as they slept in still incomplete quarters. To this day, Patty could not forget when the bar had accidentally pulled too much power from the only working generator and caused the incomplete plumbing system to die. And she thought Klingon’s smelled bad. So she had been busy packing for two and not. Patty herself still had to maintain a presence on Aegis, it wasn’t as if the bar was going anywhere. However, her schedule would probably only bring her by sporadically. Going from a fully furnished suite to living out of a suitcase in a double would be interesting. Then again, as he had already reminded her, they would be gone almost all of the time. There had been a point in the universe that Patty would never had heard such words, it really put into perspective what was happening. On schedule, Drankum had arrived at three-thirty in the morning. It had been “arranged” that his arrival would be kept quiet. As Patty suspected, he had finally admitted concern about public perception. Big ears still had his pride and knew most would not fully understand what he had done for some time. Then again, FNS seemed to be doing a pretty good job of putting pieces together. Even so, it had been his wish and so it had been done. However, Patty knew someone else knew he was here and rumors were spreading. In a funny twist of fate, people were actually going to Drankum’s Bar looking for Drankum. Things had come full circle. It wouldn’t be too long however, it would all be over within a day. The Station Commander of Sky Harbor Aegis had said very little once he had gotten off the F.A.S. Plunder, he had spoken to almost no one. According to the stewards aboard, Drankum had sat on the observation deck of the luxury yacht but said nothing. A decade later, when asked during an interview, the Ferengi would admit that he had spent the trip “enjoying the journey, one last time.” Most of what Patty learned had come from the documents he had brought back. The powers that be had been told most of what had happened…though it was obvious certain details had been left out and others embellished just a tad. The Ferengi were still the Ferengi. In general, the major players had agreed with the assessment Rom, Jint and Drankum had. The need to act was clear, what it meant for the future wasn’t. Patty guessed that between Muon Quark and Drankum, the Ferengi had been in charge for five years…but wouldn’t see a sixth. One item had surprised her. Apparently Drankum had purchased a lavish vacation before leaving Earth. Patty would join him heading to every major tourist site on Earth, Andoria, Vulcan, Bajor, Risa and more. She had later realized it was the trip she had asked for almost a decade ago, the one right after the trade route had been finalized back on Starbase Aegis. It had been after the festivities…he had said yes. Until Cardassia called. Had that really been over a decade ago? When she looked, Patty knew that this is why he didn’t want anyone to see him now. The figure of five and a half feet looked exhausted. He was relaxed, but seemed spent. His drink sat almost untouched. He still had on the most expensive suit he owned, the one apparently worn during the meeting days earlier. He had wanted to step back on dressed for the occasion. The cane was still in his hand, motionless and supporting him. The aged Ferengi was silent and only gave an occasional smile when prompted. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she saw tears. He had spent most of the last two hours staring out the two story windows into the asteroid field beyond. A computer could show that he had been actively associated with Aegis for thirteen and a half years. Roughly four thousand, nine hundred and eighty-three hours. As he looked, Drankum knew it would all end in less than twelve.

FNS NEWS ALERT An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. The noise outside of the office was exactly as it should be. The last several years had taken a toll on the population of Aegis, it had taken a toll on everyone. As with many things, those at the bottom were often injured the worst. For what was supposed to be the economic hub of the station, the Midway had transitioned from periods of insane activity to times it looked like the ruins found on so many dead worlds. Yet finally, things had started to return to what Patty Santi considered normal. But despite this monumental achievement, she was sitting in the back office, staring ahead and looking at nothing. For all the headaches, the Bajoran had done well in life. Her family had been one of the lucky ones, fleeing the homeworld before the Cardassian oppression had really entered its prime. Living in exile, opportunities were numerous and Patty had made the most of them. She had been on Earth, working at some restaurant in Paris, when the Prophets opened up yet another opportunity. In the end, it had given her the ability to see many different places and advance well beyond what she thought possible. While to others it didn't seem like much, she had the title of business manager over a chain of restaurants and had been in a stable relationship for almost two decades. Not bad for someone who was supposed to be a slave. As they said on Earth, she was now waiting for the other shoe to drop. Drankum’s Bar was beyond capacity. The Alpha shift had let out and the Midway was just as crazy as ever. The fact two transports had also recently docked only helped to improve the situation. Even from within the back office, Patty could hear the mumbled noise of the hundred discussions going on all at the same time. The noise of the bar and restaurant was also being overshadowed by the numerous video monitors scattered all over the place. Their installation was actually a last minute addition before they had opened on this station. Back near Canar, Drankum had refused to allow such “distractions from consumption” to be present. When it came time to move to Cardassia, he had reconsidered when word spread another shop on the Midway was getting them. Half of the monitors were turned to covering the last sporting events, with the few people who took advantage of the betting pools always keeping an eye out to get the latest edge. Then again, some just enjoyed watching the games. One in a corner was always turned to the GTN frequency. Most times, the only person watching was a small fat Pakled who would stare at the Galactic Travel Network for half the day, every day. He needed a vacation. For the balance of the displays, the latest news and reports from either the Federation News Network or the Federation News Service could be heard Seen was probably a better description given the noise. The talking heads were like starving children, munching on anything that came out of Fereginar. Those with big ears had become the talk of the quadrant. The people on FNN and FNS were doing anything they could to sound intelligent. What was funny to Patty was the many theories that were out and about. Anchor Gwen Beckworth had made a pinup board showing the faces of all those who had resigned, claiming information they were leaving to create a new company near the Gorn homeworld. Another reporter had said it was all a cover-up to protect an assassination attempt by someone, somewhere. Patty had stopped listening by that point. When word had broken about A’rioum’s father being arrested, the pundits had really gone off the deep end. For a people who were known for giving up anything for a price, it really was shocking how the Ferengi government was controlling the flow of information. To date, there had not been one unauthorized leak or one “unnamed source” that those in power didn’t already know about. If all continued to go to plan, it wouldn’t really be necessary much longer but it was a fact that impressed the Bajoran woman. She had been the companion to a Ferengi for awhile now and knew it was almost unheard of. Her concentration was interrupted when the door to the office slid open. Alandio Broht was in a rush and leaned in. A Bolian of medium height who served as one of the establishment’s bartenders, he had been told what to look for earlier in the day. “Patty, it is happening…,” he said softly. Apparently the teaser they were all waiting for...dreading...had been seen. Several moments later, they were both walking out from the back towards the main bar and the best place to see what she already knew was coming. By the time they had reached their destination, silence had come upon those in the bar. It had been slow at first, but had grown with increasing elbows and finger pointing as attention turned to the Federation News Service feed. Patty didn’t know exactly what had gotten everyone’s attention, but the network was now moving through a “Breaking News” transition. The image of anchor Tim Harbinger appeared. A human from the African continent, he had been on for decades and was a well known journalist. Behind, a backdrop of desks and people walking could be seen giving a glimpse into the newsroom that was present. As for Harbinger, every one of his gray hairs was in the perfect place and he looked as if he could be accepting an award while announcing the end of the world. “We have an FNS News Alert to bring you now. The situation within the Ferengi Alliance has been a main focus for everyone these past few days. Many markets remain closed because of volatility and more information continues to leak out about mass resignations. With several arrests now confirmed, many questions are being asked about what started all of this. Well, tonight we have some answers and a new connection that leads straight to Starfleet. We take you to reporter Regia Maldando, live on Earth, near the chambers of the Federation Council. Regia.” The newsroom faded to show a human female standing outside. Behind here was the outline of a building most around the galaxy knew housed the governing body of the Federation. It was night and apparently cold, given the heavy overcoat she was wearing. Regardless, her composure made it clear she was not someone to mess with. Still, the San Francisco weather was doing its best to make it an interesting report. “Thank you Tim. Days ago, anonymous sources inside the Ferengi government had reported a secret meeting with three top power players within the Alliance. This meeting ended and seems to have resulted in the mass resignations we are all now very much aware of. Since then, we have heard almost nothing outside of new releases about people under investigation and additional resignations.“ There was a pause while a box appeared in the left hand side of the screen, showing video of some diplomatic function years ago. “The identities of those at the meeting have remained a mystery since the news first broke. While some details remain sketchy, the Federation News Service can now confirm that there were in fact four people at the meeting. A confidential source has confirmed that First Clerk Jint, the second most powerful figure in the entire Ferengi government, was in attendance. ” The screen now split, showing the newsroom to the left and the cold reporter on the right. She continued, “We are also getting some unconfirmed reports that the meeting itself may have been called by the Ferengi diplomatic corp. If this is the case, many experts we are talking to say it is also very likely that the Grand Nagus himself may have been present.” “That really raises some questions about the nature of this meeting Regia, especially given what happened when it was over. Now we are also getting some developments that involve Starfleet, right? Tell us about them,” Tim stated from his comfortable chair in the newsroom. The female award winning journalist nodded and the screen transitioned back to only her, a box was appearing in the top right hand corner. “Yes, that’s right Tim. In what started as a purely Ferengi mater, we are now getting word that this may be more complicated than originally thought. We are now getting unconfirmed reports from people inside Starfleet Command headquarters in San Fransico that Ferengi diplomatic representative Ambassador Drankum has announced his retirement.” There it was. Patty swore she heard a glass drop somewhere. The left box was replaced with file footage, rather complimentary actually. “You might remember the name Tim, as he has been involved in the controversial Aegis project for many years and has served as the head of the station for some time. Involved in many diplomatic situations over the past several years, this latest development raises even more questions given what has happened recently with the Ferengi.” Really? Did it? The screen gave a close up of the cold reporter. “A source from the First Federation diplomatic delegation has told FNS that Mr. Drankum personally requested retirement at a meeting with Grand Nagus Rom and First Clerk Jint a week ago. We have been told the timing is not a coincidence. Our sources believe this meeting, was in fact, the same one that was a precursor to the entire shakeup within the Ferengi Alliance and the one we first heard rumors about.” The screen changed back to split screen, showing Tim back at the studio. “Ambassador Drankum has been a figure for many years Regia, this really is a new development. Do we have any idea what has caused this? Is he under investigation?,” Tim asked. The reply was prompt, “While no one at the Ferengi embassy would talk to us, it was pointed out by several people that if this is true, it is the only person to be granted retirement instead of resigning. We will continue to do some digging and update you when we know more.” Patty glanced down at the floor and noticed the glass that had dropped was her own. The noise in the bar never did return to normal that day.

An Open Letter: A Farewell An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. Dear humons (and those that continue to remain in denial), It is difficult to accept that this creature known as Aegis is halfway towards celebrating the start of its 16th year of existence. When you consider that this game has been running longer than some players in our forum have been alive, it truly is amazing. This place has been home to some of the most profitable wallets during that time. While some were present only for a little while, others moved in to the point that they knew of nothing else on a Friday night. The contribution of all players, former and present, to this game is a credit to everyone involved. Each gave a little bit of themselves to help build what is, very much, an enjoyable excursion each week. The fact it has lasted longer than any incarnation of Star Trek also speaks volumes…but then again we have better sponsors! For me personally, it has been a very profitable and somewhat scary adventure. I have had the duty and privilege of calling this place home for over 13 ½ years. It is a fact that really gives me pause, especially when I consider how much Aegis has personally meant to me. There is a famous, but true, humon expression: “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” And this time, I am not talking about the economy. I never imagined, dreamed or desired to ever elevate myself to anything other than who I was. Drankum, the arrogant old Ferengi you love to hate, the one who should be buying a beach on a pleasure planet and getting a massage, but for some reason hasn’t done it. My role was one of bringing the lighter side around and sometimes giving a swift kick to help a plot along. Yet fortunes had another path in mind, and almost two years ago to the day I found myself the leader of this creature known as Aegis. Having personally known every single humon, Vulcen, Klingen and more to act as CO since Aegis began, there was one thing I knew for sure: I had very big shoes to fill. My hope was to simply do what I could to get close to helping Aegis grow and thrive for years to come. I did my best to be a steward of this game’s amazing legacy. Throughout almost all of this, my partner has been the amazing Chirakis. She has been my left hand, right hand, accountant and lawyer all rolled into one. I cannot overstate how much value she has between those two ears of hers; despite the fact her lobes are a little small. Chirakis’ dedication and commitment to Aegis itself, the players and the growth of this game goes far beyond what many know. She truly does embody the best of the best. I know with her involvement, this game will go far. Yet, people come, markets fall and inflation moves on. As some of you know, I was personally set to give over my final bribe as a regular player on Aegis over two and a half years ago. A great plan had been made, things were in motion and a date was set. There was even a log during the entire departure from Cardassia that hinted at it. Alas, obviously that did not happen. The reasons behind the decision were personal and honest ones. As some of my recent logs have said, I find myself a relic of a time that has moved on. My greatest strength always remained the solving of problems and helping the host to nudge an off course plot back in the right direction. Due to the amazingly talented skills of those aboard, Aegis is no longer in need of that type of leader. It has a new stage ahead, one where fresh ideas and imagination are needed to carry it into the next chapter. This old worn out relic has given it all, and has nothing left. And so, after 13 ½ years of plundering some of the best humons and people I know, the time has come for me to take that final walk to Risa. I will be leaving Sky Harbor Aegis at the end of the game on Friday, the 4th of February. Unlike some in the past, this will not simply be another change of role for me, but as one former CO would say…this will be my last hurrah. I have seen so much while being a part of the Aegis family. I have made some amazing friends and consider myself lucky to have been able to meet some of the people who have called this place home. I am blessed in having been given the opportunity to be involved with where it is today and to even lead it. I still take pride in the fact some former players have rediscovered the game…by looking for my name. I don’t know if there is a higher compliment one could ever receive. It is humbling to think I have been here consistently since July 1997. So many things have changed, yet so many wonderful things have remained the same. And yet, as with so many greats that have graced the halls here, my time has finally come. While this will be a farewell, my hope is that it will not be goodbye. Some of you still owe me money after all. My intention is to hopefully pop back in every once in awhile, similar to some of the special guests that visit as the economy allows. My name should still remain on the mailing list, so if you have a pressing financial problem, you are more than welcome to solicit me for advice. I might even give you a discount. Yet, the first Friday of February will mark the last time I am a regular player here. Given how much I love what I do, given how long I have had these ears on, this fact truly scares me. Yet, I know it is the right decision and one that will only lead to greater success for this amazing game I care so much about. Despite what I may have said in the past, there is no magic ball to say what the future holds for Aegis. I know it has a rich and amazing history, filled with wonderful stories which would put writers on television to shame. However, I do know one thing for sure: Aegis is made up of some of the most amazingly talented people I know. It always has been in, I am sure it always will be. I know the future will be bright and that this Friday night excursion will carry on for many years to come. I am excited to think about where it will go next. I am excited to think about those that will lead it there. Until then I remain profitably, humbly and sincerely yours;

THE LAST LEVERAGE An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. His brief encounter with the female spy of the humons had lasted less than twenty minutes. His entire time on the facility known as Sky Harbor Aegis had taken less than forty. After all, one doesn't do what he was in the process of doing by standing still. Besides, what needed to be said had been. The decision to feed the information this way into the galactic intelligence quagmire had actually been an idea pushed by Grand Nagus Rom. Drankum could accept that, maybe Chirakis would be given a cookie or some other useless non-latinum token from the humons as a sign of appreciation. Though he would never admit it publically, she did deserve it. As his private yacht plowed through space, on course for familiar and yet unfamiliar territory, this time it was fully crewed. He had sent a message ahead to Patty to have the porters and other people he kept on payroll ready. After all, one couldn’t enjoy the swimming pool if you were supposed to also be driving the ship now could you? Well, you probably could but then some unprofitable asteroid would slam into you and result in a fifty percent rise with insurance costs. Drankum’s meeting with Chirakis had been a little abrupt, but it wasn’t as if the two had ever looked to engage in opera length dialogue. She was the first to know the story. The full story. The one that would not be totally publically known for a month. The one FNN would kill someone for, literally. The story that found a part of the Ferengi government resigning or being arrested after their activities had come to light. The one that featured a meeting of the minds and a decision to push for the future of Fereginar many were working for. The story that found Ambassador Drankum using anything to protect everything. It was the story that featured the retirement of Ambassador Drankum. After discussing the basics of what he had learned, for the first time someone outside of the upper levels of the Ferengi Alliance was learning the specifics. The evidence itself had been rather clear once you had looked in the right place. When one of the ministers inside the second largest banking branch on Ferenginar had been willing to part with information, the rest had been easy and the scheme fell apart quicker than anyone really thought possible. Bottom line: the father of Chief Economics Officer A’rioum was working with a full one third of the Board of Liquidators to create a “quiet exchange club.” With the detail they had used, it almost amounted to a full shadow government. The concept wasn’t exactly illegal according to the Rules of Acquisition or Ferengi law, although stealing materials from government storehouses was. Of the nearly one hundred and seventy officials who would be found involved, fifteen were considered the “board of directors” over the operation. Despite all efforts, the Ferengi Commerce Authority had only been able to locate five of them. A’rioum’s resignation days ago had been allowed to try to create separation between his actions and the government. The head of the effort had apparently been daddy, though the scope of what had been sold was unknown. Business was good, relations were good. The last thing Rom needed was people thinking he was supplying some fringe terrorist group. Even Zek had never done business with the Maquis back in the day. One could only assume so much risk on a deal before the entire thing became unprofitable. The arrests themselves would not be made public for several weeks. The resignations were timed with the announcement of a renewed information sharing agreement between the Ferengi Alliance and the United Federation of Planets. In the end, the plan would mostly work. Markets didn’t crash that badly and GBM stock actually rose six percent on rumors of growth opportunities on Bolarius. Who in their right portfolio would want to be around a bunch of blue bald heads all day anyway? Half their planet didn’t even like liquor! Formal press releases were still pending on many of the details however. Until made public, the scope of what was going on was listed as something of the highest confidence. To give out the information, even under a bribe, was to ask for a full financial audit by the government. While they may have changed, that part of the FCA remained the same. However, there were a few exceptions. Certain people outside did need to know, before someone tried starting a war. Sadly, once all was made known, a hard reality would hit the galaxy. The unprofitable truth was that no one knew for sure if they would ever find all those responsible. The business transactions would not stop, these people were some of the brightest of the Ferengi and they knew where to get supplies if they needed. Perhaps most concerning was that it would be impossible to know what was actually sold, how much and to who. Dealing with the damage that had been done would be the job of others. The official charges would be for theft of government property, use of government property for profit without authorization, failure to pay taxes on sales in excess of thirty million bars of latinum and acting in the name of the government without approval from the Grand Nagus. It wouldn’t do much to learn the extent of what had happened. However, that was better than allowing it to continue. Drankum had suspected the result of this one, last, effort however. One does start a task that ends such a profitable venture for so many without a cost. The sad reality was he had used almost all of his leverage just to get it done. Protection had not been an option. The last piece of leverage Drankum possessed was one no one had expected him to use. The reason was a selfish one: the protection of legacy. In a year, the Ferengi Alliance would be the talk of diplomatic and political circles everywhere. Even the Klingens would have to admit honor or some intangible nonsense with the actions of Rom. It would become a symbol of the “new Ferengiar.” But…that dust would not settle for awhile. When the story was released, many in the galaxy would return to historical stereotypes. Everything supposedly “superior” cultures saw wrong with the Ferengi would be screamed from the highest towers. Retribution would be sought, problems would develop. It would all be short lived of course, as more details became known, but the initial perception would take time to repair. It wasn’t something latinum was going to fix. The need for some self righteous pompous politically bankrupt people to take advantage of the situation would be unquestionable. There were a couple of small lobed unprofitable vermin who came to mind. It was a strong possibility that existing trade deals would be suspended pending a review, probably to ensure that no “horrible goods related to this tragedy” had been involved. Sure, the market would suffer for a week or two but then things would get back to normal. But a week or two is all certain individuals would need. It would paint a target, one hundred and seventy Ferengi who were now unemployed or under arrest would love to take advantage of. What better way to twist the events back on the Ferengi government by implying everyone was involved? If I can’t have the latinum, no one can! Make everyone involved, take every profitable and unprofitable fool with you! It would be relatively easy. One of the closest facilities near the supposed disasters had connections to the Ferengi. In fact, it had been coordinated by one. It was being run by one. It was something that many within different circles wanted an excuse to eliminate in favor of more traditional or profitable business ventures anyway! What better way to twist public opinion than to make people think that possibly even Starfleet was involved and murky the waters so much nothing was ever accomplished! What a perfect justification for getting rid of it. From the Ferengi, citing “recent events,” all would be over. For the humons…for the others…a “tainted image” and “inability to continue the mission due to questionable relations” would probably appear in some statement that had gone through a public relations coordinator. After all, Ferengi lobes were all over it. They had just admitted to being involved, how wide did it go? Having one of THEM in charge had maybe given the group the opportunity! Maybe it STILL was! One of those who had resigned from the Congress had already started making moves towards this end. It was a shame, really, that the unprofitable and soon to be broke fool did not realize the game was over before he had even started playing. Times like these made you really wonder…how did these people get elected anyway? Maybe bribing your way into office wasn’t what the humons thought of as ethical, but at least the candidates were often a little more honest about things. Drankum had given more than he ever expected. For over a decade, his thoughts had been about the headache that was to earn him a place in history. Sure, it might not allow for a triple gold pressed latinum funeral, but who cared? He had been witness to some of history’s most monumental moments through his association. Fact was, this Ferengi had been a part of many of them. He had witnessed greatness, sadness, joy, death and even some amazing profits. Yet by being there now, he would be the tool used to destroy it all. It would not be able to win the battles that would come; there wasn’t enough jockeying to prevent it. There wasn’t enough time to properly prepare for it. A good placed bribe might help here or there, but it would be a losing battle. It might not seem so at first, but in the end the unprofitable fools would find a way. They would tarnish all that had been accomplished. They would mock and demean those who had given everything in the name of seeing things get better. Those involved would ensure that people did not remember all of the good but instead focus only on the bad. These acts would destroy the memory…the sacrifice…of all of them that had come before. It would give a wound in which his lasting chance at a legacy could be destroyed. The only way to avoid this was to stop the war before it started. It was the last move of the last piece on the board that could be played. It wasn’t as if he was somehow someone special; that was reserved for people like Captain Ears or Bulloc. And so the endgame that none had been able to calculate was played. To avoid it, to keep it safe from the political avalanche that was coming, Drankum would use the one, last, piece of leverage he had. Himself. It would be on the second day of the new financial calendar that Ambassador Drankum of the Ferengi Alliance had requested retirement. The request was approved the same day by the Grand Nagus. There would be no Ferengi in charge when the unprofitable fools came searching. There would be no connection to the government involved in the outside investigation of the Tjurakh. There would be no way for those that wished to destroy the idea that was Aegis from seeing their dream fulfilled. The legacy would be protected. The idea would be allowed to continue, and in a small way so would he. The chapter would finally be closed and a new one emerge. Jint had ensured that all would be set by the time he returned. Sure enough, Drankum had arrived long enough to grab several documents and learn the appointments were set. He was on his way to the required meetings that would see his official retirement and departure from all things related to Aegis. Almost a decade and a half of his life was coming to a conclusion…something he was actually a peace with. In retirement, Drankum would still maintain his title and, as was customary, would remain available for more ceremonial duties if the government required. His two bars would continue to operate, though primarily under the direction of someone appointed by Patty. The last relic was finally going, the last vestige of a generation long gone was, himself, moving on. In many ways, it was the end of his era but beginning of a greater one. Drankum had seen it all. He had been a part of most of it. Now, the time had come to look to the future for the answers instead of having to deal with the past. What was to come next…ah, now that was a profitable question. A profitable question indeed.

COLLECTIVE COURSE An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. A segment of the Ferengi government were providing resources to the Tjurakh. They, the Ferengi, were somehow involved in what was going on. They were the suppliers being searched by intelligence sources throughout the quadrants. And the other segment of the Ferengi government were about to find out. As anticipated, forces had been manipulated to suit his desires. He had been able to once again utilize an arsenal of belligerence, stubbornness, shakedowns, bribes, threats and all other forms of political diplomacy to get the desired outcome. Plans had been possible due to the continued inexperience of the many youthful faces in Tower of Commerce on Fereginar. It really was a shame his people’s education system had dropped the requirement all males take “Manipulation 101” and “The Art of Leverage: A Historical Perspective” from the secondary school curriculum. In some respects it had been a little too easy, a thought that made him smile. Ambassador Drankum had been able to secure a combined meeting with the three most powerful people in his government, something that rarely ever happened since two of them really hated the third. Grand Nagus Rom, no longer the arrogant newcomer he once was, had been literally forced to sit next to Chief Economies Officer A’rioum for the first time in years. The later was a leftover from the previous regime, someone who had made every effort to undermine the cultural reforms pushed by Rom. It wasn’t as if he was alone, but A’rioum was, in fact, a front. His name and title were the only real valuables he had left, with many insiders knowing full well the businessman's net worth had collapsed during recent market volatility. In reality, this Ferengi was about as smart as a Pakled who was dropped on their head as a child. Younger than any other person to hold the position; his father was the real brains behind the operation and everyone knew it. His title made him the de-facto head of the Board of Liquidators. The ruling body over the Ferengi Commerce Authority, it featured nearly five hundred commissioners who represented the most powerful interests within the Alliance. Individuals such as the Chairman of Slug-o-Cola, Galactic Business Machines (GBM), Venture Lotus Software, the head of the Ferengi Trade Guild and more continued to have great power over things such as the appointment of a new Nagus. The “selected” leader of this group historically served as someone people were looking to make the next head of the government. In the past this had led to the placement of people like Grand Nagus Zek, who had a brilliant economic mind which drove prosperous times. Then again, well placed manipulation had also resulted in Grand Nagus Smeet. The only leader ever to be assassinated in office, his inability to do anything during the 2nd Great Market Crash of 2290 had shown that his election had been nothing but a plot for GBM to gain market share. Of course, the power of this position had changed ten years ago with the introduction by Grand Nagus Zek of the Congress of Economic Advisors. It had been one of his final acts before stepping down, introducing an elected legislative body that had the authority to restrict the powers of the Nagus. Comprised of thirteen members and chaired by the Grand Nagus himself, the second most senior Ferengi on it acted as the Grand Proxy during the absence or sudden death of a Nagus. Within the new social atmosphere that was becoming Ferengiar in the later part of the 24th century, this post was now the second most powerful one in the Alliance. It still held the former pre-reform title of First Clerk, and the person still remained the Chief Financial Adviser to the Grand Nagus. Although historically appointed, the election had supposedly brought greater balance to the government. Right, and Vulcens were suddenly going to want to buy stock in Orion Slave Girls Inc. From Drankum’s perspective, the current First Clerk was quite possibly the last of his generation to ever hold such an office. Jint, an aged businessman who had accumulated respect from almost every single Grand Nagus in the last eighty years and was seen as one of the most profitable businessmen in modern times. He had retired from his profitable position as Chairman of Clarus Mining Corporation to take the job. The planet Clarus, home to massive mining operations near the homeworld, remains responsible for forty percent of the Ferengi Alliance’s GDP. Jint had a shrewd business and political mind. He had acted as an advisor to many of the most important people over the past century, to the point one section of the Ferengi Market Exchange building was even named after him. Jint hadn’t even paid or bribed for it! Jint had seen it all. He had been through it all. He was a relic, but one no one dared to touch or challenge. His unexpected support of Rom when he came into office was seen as something of a coup, but those who knew him had not been surprised. Clarus Mining had used the excuse of interaction with non-Ferengi interests to explain why some workers were given “health insurance” two decades before its time. The FCA had not challenged it because, well honestly, did you want to be responsible for screwing up almost half of the economy? This had created a question and a challenge. How does one relic play the game of chess with another? The answer was simple. You don’t. Who would have thought that both Drankum and Jint would be unable to tell time properly, both arriving outside the Chamber of Opportunity for the meeting two hours early? It was really shocking that secretaries could not get appointments right in this day and age. And so there had been a meeting, before the meeting. It was here that Drankum had, for the first time since reading the reports weeks earlier on Aegis, told another breathing wallet how the wheels were turning. It was here that Drankum had given his every last effort to preserve all that he held important. When the real meeting had occurred, it had lasted only twenty-two minutes. He really was going to miss the game. The look of shock by A’rioum was something internal security would eventually sell to the news. When his own father was arrested thirty minutes later, the beginning of the last chapter was now underway. Of course, politics being what they were, all would not be as it seemed…especially in the press. The day Ambassador Drankum left Fereginar, Chief Economics Officer A’rioum announced his resignation from the Board of Liquidators. He cited “increasing personal financial burdens given the expanding markets of the Alliance.” After all, what was he supposed to say? His departure was not the only one. A full one third of the Board of Liquidators would resign in the following days. Two Congressmen would leave Congress as well. Most would cite similar circumstances, although some were strangely unable to give a public statement because they had fled to places unknown. Something things never changed. Discussions between Grand Nagus Rom, Jint and Drankum had locked in their collective course. The timeline of events had been confirmed and now all pieces were moving effortlessly. Truth was, he was no longer moving them but was fine with that. The Ambassador had found a willing party, one not concerned with forcing the Ferengi system to attack itself. If the new reforms that were being pushed were to mean anything, there really was no other decision. The fact that an old relic was the one pushing it meant that, perhaps, in some fashion, you could still teach…who was he kidding? It was probably because of long term exposure to humons! Geesh. As Drankum looked over the computer monitor before him, it estimated he was now only a few hours away from Aegis. When the dust settled, the Ferengi government would come away looking quite good to the outside. They were dealing with corruption, instead of tolerating it. Grand Nagus Rom would likely get some party thrown for him by the humons or something. For his part, Drankum had done is job. Of course, there was one last part left. The dust would settle, but not for awhile. At first, the galaxy would see it as an unprofitable example of everything wrong with his people. Retribution would be sought, problems would develop. The need for some self righteous pompous politically bankrupt person to take advantage of the situation would result in scrutiny. Given what had happened in the past, it might be all that was needed to finally pull the plug. No, there had been too much invested. The cost had been too great to try to get a return now. To avoid it, to keep it safe from the political avalanche that was coming, Drankum would use the one, last, piece of leverage he had left.

ONE SEGMENT An Ambassador Drankum Profitable Production Copyright © 2011, Drankum, LLC. The journey had taken much longer than he had expected. Then again, he hadn’t made this trip in awhile. Truth be told, this particular Ferengi had spent more time away from his home world than on it. The sad reality was that he actually despised the place. The average temperature was not exactly freezing but nothing you would find on Risa. The fact that it rained ninety percent of the time didn’t help things. If it wasn’t for all the latinum, one might call the place a swamp or cesspool. Then again, many had…and they weren’t just talking about the landscape. Drankum himself had not held a residence at the jewel of the Ferengi Alliance in almost fifty years. Prior to the opening of his bar thirteen years ago, he had spent extended time at the center of all things humon…Earth. Formal diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Ferengi had always been complicated, although the war had likely changed some perceptions. It was amazing to realize that in the past two decades, Drankum had only physically set foot on Fereginar three times. Once had been during the negotiations for the Ferengi Trade Route in the Canar System, one during the early stages of the Cardassian redevelopment efforts and the final during what almost became the next galactic war several years ago. At the conclusion of that trip, he had sworn he was never coming back. His reasons for the statement were more complicated than many realized. While of course he had an appreciation for all things latinum, the short aged figure had paid the necessary bribes and worked the required duties to generate a handsome profit for himself. He wasn’t the type who walked around with sixteen Dabo girls trailing him, rather this Ferengi was part of the small breed of his species who actually sought to generate wealth through other things. In this area, despite what the Rules of Acquisition said, wealth was not always hard currency. Ambassador Drankum had implemented a plan for the later years of his life. It was designed to bring him comfort and continued dabbling in the occasional diplomatic grandstanding someone of his experience would expect. This plan had held together for two years before things called Aegis twisted it. Despite giving him permanent leg damage almost a decade ago, he was taken towards new opportunities he had not sought. Placement in directions previously unthought-of occurred. They had earned him a great deal of accomplishment, not only for his own government but what he hoped were others as well. The Ferengi Trade Route in the Canar System continued to flourish at the site of the first facility called Aegis, with a small percentage of the profits remaining a sustainable income source for all involved…including him of course. His business had expanded and his role during the war had presented many unique challenges. Yet his legacy had been what he thought was his last undertaking: an orbital complex constructed above Cardassia Prime that was designed to be an international resource for the region. Sky Harbor Aegis had been a bore to see through, the logistical headaches could still be felt ten years later. Drankum has anticipated full retirement shortly after, that hadn't happened. While he had been forced to represent his government’s interests about three years ago, what most had not understood was the great expense the entire event had been to the figure most blamed for it. Then he had been dragged into a title he had never actually desired and there was no way of bribing his way out if. For each accomplishment or task, Drankum had been forced to use a dwindling supply of leverage in an ever changing Ferengi society. The fact was, the elder figure was something of a relic and an anomaly since almost all others had moved to enjoy the fruits of their labors instead of still laboring. The incident over Cardassia had been a clash on Fereginar between a newer generation seeking to test their roots against those with experience would had bribed enough people to know better. Betting pools had gotten it right and the later had one: while war was good for business, peace was preferred. The cost of this accomplishment however had been many giving one final effort that ended their careers. To expense capital to maintain control of the situation was nothing new, such was the nature of a purely capitalist society. Even with recent reforms, the Ferengi were still the Ferengi. Now, Drankum had been on Fereginar for weeks. His abrupt departure from Aegis had been necessary. He had seen these warning signs before. The problem was, most of the others who had were either dead, busy getting a massage on Risa or too involved in their own problems to realize it. It was the price of a youthful administration running things. The signs had been there before but it had taken several well placed calls and, once again, the exhaustion of several favors to get…nothing. Nothing meant something to a Ferengi, especially to a diplomat. It meant that this wasn’t another case of a rogue Damon running some operation inside a nebula. There had been enough of those profiteering fools in the past two decades that even a Vulcan would be shocked. As hard as it was to admit, the absence of direct oversight by the FCA wasn’t always a good thing. Sure, you could bribe your way out of a jam, but sometimes there wasn’t enough latinum on Dufour to cover up the crime. So he had left Aegis to get his answer. Before leaving, Drankum had suspected the outcome of this one last inquiry. Standing on the Aegis midway, being barraged by unprofitably annoying inquiries from a certain Romulen, the Ferengi had glanced up and see the darkened second pylon. He had remembered his thoughts while aboard the humon starship months earlier when it seemed the facility was to be lost forever. The galaxy was full of irony: the chapter was coming to an end the same way it had started. His arrival on Fereginar and subsequent “conversations” had only reaffirmed the resolve. After several days of pilfering, it had been difficult to accept the answers he was getting. While many viewed diplomatic and political escapades as a game of humon poker, today Drankum preferred the game of chess. The board he found himself playing on was nothing what he expected. His initial moves had been almost disastrous, the fact it had taken this long to get something of an edge back was probably a sign of age. Yet Drankum had started to once again manipulate forces to suit his desires. After days of belligerent bribes, shakedowns and all forms of diplomacy: the pieces were finally starting to move. However even those involved were initially unable to determine the endgame. That was, of course, part of the plan. If this was going to be the last time he did this, why not do it with some style? A minister within one of the more influential banking branches had been the linchpin. Most would have been required to follow a trail, Drankum simply used his second to last bit of leverage. Once the negotiation was underway, it was clear that the youth of today have no idea how to conduct a meeting or how not to spew. To force the cogs of the modern Ferengi system to move was to put the system at odds with itself. It was going to be necessary though. A segment of the Ferengi government were providing resources to the Tjurakh. They were somehow involved in what was going on. They were the suppliers. And the other segment of the Ferengi government was about to find out.

Sky Harbor Aegis May 1, 2009 An emergency distress signal is detected from the colony, prompting the launching of several rescue runabouts. Aegis.txt

Sky Harbor Aegis April 17th, 2009 Security changes are discussed as a "regular day" goes forward. Aegis.txt

To: Ambassador Joy Two, Federation Embassy, Sky Harbor Aegis; CC: Commander Chirakis Kirel, Executive Officer, Sky Harbor Aegis; From: Ambassador Drankum, Station Commander, Sky Harbor Aegis; Re: Your Message Regarding Aegis Shipyard Production Ambassador, The exact details as to the design specifications for any ship that may be produced at the shipyard once it is complete are not yet available. With that in mind, please take the following profitable points into consideration: The scale of the yard is presently set to be capable of drydock of a humon Starfleet Excelsior-class cruiser. Any ship designed would have to fall into such a category. At present, two docks are slated for construction. There is no goal about out producing anyone, rather creating a new location capable of production and repair in a region that currently doesn't have one. It is true that the humon Utopia Planetia facility takes a decade to do anything. Rather, they did before the start of the Dominion War when the humon Starfleet realized it wasn't smart to stall for a year simply because one did not like the color selected for the carpet. Other governments have often been able to speed up the process, as has Starfleet in the last decade. The nature of what ships are constructed will become much clearer as time moves forward. Designs will be funded thru similar channels that allowed for the construction of the Aegis facility itself. The exact details of this arrangement are being worked out by the Aegis Advisory Council and should be available within several months. Finally, I would reexamine my usage of the terms "deadly and profitable" in the context you are implying. Those two terms often defend solely on the intended usage of the craft in question, which is not public.

Sky Harbor Aegis April 3rd, 2009 Discussions begin with the new Chief of Security and the XO. The colonists continue preparing to eventually head out on their own. Aegis.txt

Sky Harbor Aegis March 26th, 2009 The new Chief of Security arrives. Discussions move forward regarding preliminary colonial preparations. Aegis.txt

Sky Harbor Aegis March 20, 2009 Commander Kirel comes aboard. The civilian transports that will eventually form a colony in the TKR-117 system arrive as well. And promotions and awards were also issued. Aegis.txt

Sky Harbor Aegis March 13, 2009 An accident occurs during the asteroid survey mission and questions are raised about Ambassador Drankum's health. Aegis.txt

HELP WANTED: Sky Harbor Aegis, a joint Allied operated starbase located in unclaimed territory near Cardassian and Breen territory, is seeking qualified candidates to fill the role of division chief for its security division. Individuals looking to apply for the Chief of Security position must be qualified in managerial skills. The position demands overseeing a soon to be developed division responsible for internal station security and some tactical operations. In addition, this role is also responsible for overseeing the operations and management of the facility's fighter squadron in cooperation with the Operations Manager. This shall include upcoming shipyard and colonial protection operations. Qualified candidates will be officers in good standing within Starfleet, the Klingon Defense Force, Romulan Imperial Navy or Cardassian military. Individuals of other nationalities may also apply. Such persons must carry a recommendation from a command level individual (GM recommendation) upon request and have held the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade or higher for at least three months. Sky Harbor Aegis provides a competitive benefits package including competitive salary, full medical coverage, dental and life insurance. 401K options are available after ten years of service. Housing provided by the Aegis Advisory Committee, LLC. Those interested in exploring this exciting opportunity, or others that may be available, should contact the Station Commander, Ambassador Drankum. More information about Sky Harbor Aegis can be obtained by visiting www.skyharboraegis.com