The life blood of any planet, colony, station began at the space port. It was the heart whose beat brought commerce, people, ideas and inspiration. Just as blood pumps through the heart to be sent through the body, here it must return to begin the journey again. Ships arrive and ships leave. People come and people go. Jezem prowls between the docked ships, moving with the flow of bodies and letting it carry him where it may. He moved with purpose, intention behind every step and sharp eyes captured every minute detail. The orion on the hunt for information.

Jezem stepped around a group of bickering Ferengi. Arguing about their business itinerary and which local mogul to suck up too first. It they were of any importance Argam would have notified him before hand. Jezem continued on. There was one goal on his mind today. A particular ship he’d observed now and then while watching the port. Just what struck him odd about the ship he couldn’t place until after his recent week-long information excursion off-planet. The Black Sparrow. . .

Jezem approached the ship. He wore his favored orion-style clothes. Black netting wrapped around his hips and hung down to his knees over a black loin cloth. Black leather straps wrapped around his chest and shoulder. Plain gold bands around his neck, upper arms and wrists. He wore his hair up in high half-bun and kept in place by gold pins. The clothes of an orion trader. Jezem, kept his body language lose and open. “Hey, is the captain about?” He called out.

Jezem