♫ The Girl Shops at the Store, Sweet Jane Sinclair ♫
Posted on Tue Oct 6th, 2026 @ 5:12pm by Lieutenant Jane Sinclair
1,321 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Preparations
Location: Deep Space Nine Promenade
Timeline: A few days before USS Ermiana arrives
The transport carrying Jane Sinclair and Alisha Reno to their next assignment was a couple of days early, arriving at Deep Space Nine well before the USS Ermiana was scheduled to. Station Operations informed them that their ship would arrive on time, but there wasn't anything they could do to intercept it earlier.
They would just need to be patient. They were given temporary quarters in the Habitat Ring and encouraged to take advantage of the station's various amenities.
Alisha was using her downtime to prepare more fully for the assignment. She filled her days with meetings and study time. There wasn't a comparable amount of prep work for Jane, so at the start she felt adrift. But Alisha urged her to do what Ops had said. 'Enjoy yourself, Sugarcube,' she'd said, and ah'll see you at dinner.'
Jane was surprised by how much she enjoyed the Promenade. These days she was so busy in her assignments that she never took the time to breathe; to just sit and watch the universe go by. She got a coffee from the local replimat and found a seat by one of the large viewports on the upper deck to just watch ships fly past.
Suddenly, three young boys, around eight to ten years old if Jane had to guess, gathered around the window
“Did we miss it?”
“I can’t see! Kyle stop pushing!”
“Where is it? Where is it?”
Suddenly, the blackness of space opened up in a swirl of glowing blues and yellows. The boys stared in awe, and Jane couldn't fault them for it. She stood up and watched from behind them, the effect reflecting in her eyes.
She'd never seen the wormhole before.
"Make a wish, make a wish!" the youngest boy urged his friends. Jane grinned as she saw in the viewport reflection all three squeeze their eyes shut as they thought really hard for what they wanted.
"So what'd you wish for?"
"I'm not telling you!"
"C'mon!"
"It won't come true!"
The three scampered off, arguing about wishes while Jane kept her eyes on the tunnel through space. Make a wish, eh? Alright. Jane squeezed her eyes shut and thought of exactly what she wanted in life. It was the easiest wish she'd ever made.
Her eyes opened just in time to see the wormhole snap shut. Whatever ship had wanted to go to or from the Gamma Quadrant had finished its journey.
She downed the last sip of her coffee, recycled the cup, and walked into the local gaming establishment. Surely there must be something fun to do there.
Beautiful women operated the gaming tables, feigning with excellent showmanship their excitement when a player won and disappointment when the house inevitably took their money. Waitstaff, mostly Ferengi, brought trays of colourful drinks and salty snacks to the customers, most of whom wore Starfleet or Bajoran Militia uniforms.
Jane took a seat at the bar next to a Lurian who was talking the ear off the Boslic merchant sitting to his other side. She didn't wait long for a Ferengi bartender to greet her. "Welcome to Quark's," he said cordially. "What can I get you?"
"Honestly I don't know," she admitted. "Not really a drinker. What else is there to do?"
"Play dabo?" he suggested.
"Not much of a gambler either."
"Holosuites?"
"Are they like holodecks?"
"More or less," the Ferengi said. "The technologies are compatible. We have a catalogue of programs to rent or buy."
"Well you see I'm not assigned here," Jane explained. "Mister..."
"Irapax, at your service," he said with an exaggerated grin and bow. "For an upcharge we can put a program on an isolinear chip to take with you."
"Well let's see the catalogue then." Irapax put a Ferengi PADD on the bar in front of her. They were divided into categories. Science fiction. High fantasy. Sport. Horror. Simulation. Puzzle. Romance. Mystery. Erotica. Action-adventure.
Action-adventure...
She opened that category, hoping to find something with a solid story and which will get the blood pumping. "What are these?" she asked, pointing to one subcategory.
Irapax looked down at the entry she'd selected. "They're new," he explained. "Some kind of spy thriller. The protagonist is a secret agent on Earth a few hundred years ago. I don't know the full story. There's a default name but you're allowed to change it. Each story is pretty different in style. The author is a proponent of a hew-mon era called 'the nineteen sixties', whatever that means. A lot of the stories are set then, but you can see in the descriptions, there's a range in setting."
Jane looked closely and saw what he meant. The first one, The Lair of Doctor Noah, was said to be set in 1966. "That one's actually spoken for," Irapax pointed out. "Special order. Apparently the infirmary chief here is friends with the author." The next few were also set in the 1960s, but then she saw that Queen and Country was set in 1986. Another, Crimson List, had 1994 as the setting.
"Ooh how about this one," Jane said, pointing to the fourth from the top. "Black Orchid. Sounds ominous."
Irapax opened the profile. "Set in 2010. That mean anything to you?"
Jane shook her head. "Never really studied Earth history." She saw Irapax's brow furrow in confusion. "Human colonial, not Terran."
"Everyone's from somewhere," Irapax said, nodding. "So you want it?"
Jane smiled and nodded. "Yes please. On an isolinear chip."
"That'll be ten strips for the program and thirty slips for the conversion." Irapax held his hand out.
"Um, well, here's the thing..." Jane said sheepishly.
Irapax sighed heavily. "No latinum. Typical hew-mon."
"Hey!" Jane said. "Don't be like that. I'm sure we can come up with some kind of fair trade."
"What do you think this is?" Irapax asked. "This isn't a flea market. There's no negotiating here."
"And here I thought Ferengi were interested in profit," Jane countered. "If you don't want to make a profitable deal, then I'll find someone who will. I assume Quark is the name of the bar manager? He'll probably want profit."
Another sigh from Irapax. "Fine. What do you suggest?"
"Do me a favour." Jane nodded toward the screen over the replicator. "Look up Interstellar-One, number eighty-one."
He turned away to access the terminal, connecting to the station's computer core and to the wider Federation subspace comms network. A few seconds later, the screen was filled with imagery of racing shuttles, video clips of dramatic moments in FI1R racing, and promotional images and video interviews with a very familiar face.
Irapax turned back to Jane, who was making the same facial expression as the one in her Proxima-Renault promo photo. "Replicate some of those images, in frames," Jane suggested. "I'll sign them, you sell autographed Jane Sinclair merchandise, for certainly more than ten strips and thirty slips."
"How many?" Irapax asked.
"Five."
"Ten."
"Seven."
"Seven and two die-cast to-scale models of your racecraft."
"Agreed, but also I get an hour in the holosuite to try my new program," Jane suggested.
"Done." Irapax shook Jane's hand and grinned, his fangs on full display. "A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Sinclair. Be right back with your program, and the merch for you to sign."
The Ferengi left the bar to access the holosuite computer and a better quality replicator in the back. When he was far enough away, Jane leaned in to whisper to the Lurian, whose companion had left. "He'll make a tidy profit off this," she observed. "Though not as much of one as if my fiancée were here. You ever see Stardust Saga II? Imagine how many holoprograms I'd get for an autograph from an Oscar-winning actress..."
END
Lieutenant Jane Sinclair
soon-to-be-Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Ermiana
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