A tense, bustling section of the Promenade, where traders, Starfleet personnel, and civilians go about their business under the shadow of Syndicate control. Merchants whisper behind counters, and shopkeepers keep their heads down. The air is thick with unspoken fear, as protection fees and quiet threats shape daily life. But today, the tension shifts as Syndicate enforcers stand outside a particular small shop.

A young Ferengi woman, her arms defiantly crossed, glares at them. “I will not pay your so-called security fee! You’re obstructing my business, leeching off my income, and spreading fear across the Promenade!” Hirni’s voice is firm, but the slight tremor in her stance betrays her nerves.

One of the enforcers smirks, shaking his head. “Come on, Hirni. Oh, sweet Hirni, why make a scene?” His posture is deliberately intimidating. “Pay your share, and we’ll be on our way. We can’t protect you from people who have ill intentions, after all.”

Hirni narrows her eyes. “The only ones with ill intentions are standing in front of me.”

The second enforcer steps forward suddenly, grabbing her tunic and pulling her closer. “I don’t have time for this sugarcoating. Pay up, or you’ll regret your choice.”

The physical confrontation is different, it’s more terrifying than just words. Hirni shakes slightly, the fear creeping into her bones as she struggles to respond.

A short distance away, two Starfleet officers patrol the Promenade.

“Thanks for coming along on this patrol,” Nirech says, striding ahead with an air of confidence, his eyes scanning the crowd for trouble. He likes this, the feeling of being the sheriff in town.

Iress sighs, shaking his head. “You do know you invited me for a snack, right? Not to do a patrol? I’m a flight operator, not security.” He still hadn’t forgotten the gambling den disaster from earlier in the week. Then his eyes lock on Hirni, visibly distressed.

“Well… shit. Nirech, northwest.”

Nirech turns, spotting the confrontation. Without hesitation, he rushes forward. “Care to put the lady back on her own two feet?” His hand hovers near his holster, his gaze locked on the enforcers.

One of them chuckles, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, wonderful. The badges have arrived. I find you lot even more annoying than the last gang that tried running things around here.”

The enforcer gripping Hirni lets go, but his hand moves toward his weapon. Before he can draw, Iress already has his phaser trained on him.

“Oh, please. Make my day,” Iress deadpans. “I just wanted a damn sandwich. But hey, I’m up for a change of pace. Now, let’s see who makes the moral choice here.”

The other enforcer places a hand on his partner’s weapon, flashing a slick smile. “This isn’t over. We’ll be back, and we’ll get our share.” He steps away, and after a moment’s hesitation, the second enforcer follows, glaring at Iress, who doesn’t flinch.

“What deal? Screw you!” Hirni snaps, stepping forward, her courage returning with fury.

Nirech takes a deep breath. “Hirni, could you come with us to file a statement?” He offers a small reassuring smile, sensing the anger still burning in her.

Security Hub

A controlled, tense environment where Starfleet monitors civilian activity. Screens flicker with reports of Syndicate extortion, and officers work to document rising merchant intimidation.

In Nirech’s office, Hirni fidgets with her fingers, nerves still rattling from what she had just witnessed. A warm cup of tea is placed in front of her.

“Lemon tea, soothes the nerves,” Nirech offers with a smile. She takes the cup, her fingers warming against the ceramic.

“Here’s the problem,” Nirech says, leaning forward. “We know people are being extorted. We know Syndicate enforcers are demanding cuts of your profits. But no one is willing to come forward.”

Iress sits on the edge of the desk, arms crossed. “Basically, he’s asking you to take the first step.” His bluntness cuts through Nirech’s careful words. “What do you say?”

Hirni takes a sip, letting the honey-sweetened lemon settle in her throat. Her mind races. “You’re asking a lot. The other merchants won’t talk because they’re afraid. What you saw today? That was just a drop in an ocean.”

Nodding in understanding. “Whatever happens, we’ll do our job. We’ll protect those on the Promenade.” Nirech leans back, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Captain Kobahl wants this station to thrive. To be a place where merchants can do business without constantly looking over their shoulders. Look around you, Hirni.”

She follows his gaze outside the office, where Starfleet security officers move with determined focus, working toward that goal.

Hirni’s eyes narrow slightly, the weight of his words sinking in.

Promenade

Back on the Promenade, unease lingers after the public confrontation. Some merchants whisper about resisting, while others warn each other that Starfleet can’t protect them.

Hirni, now convinced, quietly speaks to trusted merchants, feeling out who might stand with her. Meanwhile, Nirech and Iress continue patrolling, their presence felt as security increases around the marketplace.

“You can say a lot, but this place grows on you,” Nirech muses, watching people interact, laugh, and barter.

Iress takes a bite of his sandwich, leaning on the railing. “Getting sentimental there?”

Nirech smirks. “Maybe. Time does that to you.” He turns, adjusting his uniform. “But let’s focus on what we’re here for, a patrol.”

“A sandwich,” Iress mutters, walking after him.

Early morning. The Promenade is eerily quiet. The usual chatter of merchants setting up for the day is muted. Hirni arrives to open her shop, only to freeze.

Her storefront has been vandalized. The message carved into the metal of her door reads:

“STARFLEET CAN’T SAVE YOU.”

A heavy silence falls. Merchants stop and stare, but no one speaks. Hirni grips the doorframe, her hands shaking, not just in fear, but anger.

Nirech arrives, his gaze darkening at the sight of the words etched into steel. But before he can say anything, Hirni turns. Her eyes burning, her voice clear and defiant.

“See? This is what happens when you push back! This is what happens when you resist them! If you even talk to Starfleet!” Her voice rises, her finger pointing at the gathered merchants. “But I will not stop resisting them. This, this right here, is proof we can’t live like this! We need to stand up, together. Not for Starfleet, for ourselves! Starfleet still has to prove themselves, but they’re working on it.”

She slams her door shut. “Now is our turn to fight! And we’ll fight them on our terms.”

Around her, the merchants nod in agreement, quiet but resolved.

High above, Captain Kobahl watches from a railing, arms crossed. She meets Nirech’s gaze, offering a small approving nod, before walking away.

The station is shifting. The battle for Hecate Station’s future has truly begun.