Interlude – An offer you can't refuse
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
ON:
Yolanthe's office was cool and silent, insulated from the noise and bustle of the main bar. It was a neat and formal affair in dark woods and light fabrics with no particular theme beyond that. Behind the desk, hanging from range of hooks and clips was a score or more of weapons, mostly small blades, but also a handful of small firearms, and incongruously, a small black leather drawstring bag, and a pair of men’s underwear, made from gold lame.
She indicated the couch and offered Darson a seat, whilst going to minibar and retrieving a bottle of mineral water from the little fridge underneath it. "Drink?" She asked, "A proper one this time?"
Darson entered the office and discretely looked around. Spies and assassins like him were trained to make lightning fast observation of their mark’s living space, picking up on the little things that could give him a clue to the target’s weak spot. But at this particular moment he wasn’t interested in coercing anything from her…that would come later. Right now he had to get his foot in the door. He sat down smoothly on the couch, his cloak furling around him and placed the case gently on the ground, “I never did get my chaser my dear. So I’ll take a wine. Something…elegant. With a fruity after-taste if you have the discerning pallet.”
She had several choices, but settled for her favorite, Barolo. She poured a generous glass and emptied her mineral water into a glass of her own, and sat on the other end of the couch to him. "Cheers." When they had clinked glasses and drunk, she put the glass down. "So, incredibly, incredibly wealthy?"
Darson wished the remaining liquid around in his glass as he said in an equally liquid tone, “ Incredibly, incredibly wealthy my dear. You see, I’m not sure if are aware of this, but you have some competition onboard this station. There are a couple of bars here and there that cater to some specific species, but the biggest one around here is the Matahari bar and grill. They’ve suffered some setbacks recently in the form of an intelligence investigation into their business, the chief of security on the station holding a personal grudge…among other things.”
"The Cardassian?" She nodded, "One of the reasons we decided to step up the entertainment focus. Just food and drink would have made us just another bar like hers" She sipped her water. "I did hear some things when we were location scouting. Though from what I hear, the chief of security holding a grudge is more like a seal of approval."
Darson chuckled, “I can see that you did your due-diligence. The point is that she hates Federation personnel and Marines in particular…me in even more particularity. She charges a massive premium on my poor Marines…that is if she even serves them at all. So I’ve been on the lookout for another alternative. And I thought I would never find one…until I heard about you.”
"Hating the federation on a federation station seems like a poor business strategy." Yolanthe allowed. "Federation personnel are more than welcome here, marines or otherwise, as long as they follow the same rules as everyone else. Which can be summed up as don't be an arsehole."
Darson balanced the delicate glass on the end of his finger and said nonchalantly, “What if I told you that I was willing to guarantee all of their patronage to you?”
"You mean the marines?" She thought about it. she knew there was a large garrison here, but its exact size she hadn't got a clue about. A lot of thirsty soldiers needing to relax. tempting. But it was also somewhat suspicious. "And you'd order them to come here? Why? What do you want in return?"
Darson made a sound of contemplation as he leaned back on the plush couch, “Does there need to be something I want in return?” he asked with a small shrug of his shoulders as he continued to contemplate the wine.
"Nobody offers to make someone else rich without wanting something in return."
“Well,” he said slowly as he tried to decide how much to tell her at this point, “What I want is my Marines to have a place to relax that they can afford. One less thing off of their plate to be concerned with. And I’m willing to pay top Latinum for such a place.”
His interest in his men's welfare appealed to her, chiming with her own species' attitudes, even if her own were driven by a somewhat more sexist view underneath. Still, she was a business not a charity? "How much latinum?"
“Ideally…well for starters I want to open up an unlimited tab for them. Bar, holosuites, etc. you name it. No preferential treatment of course, they’ll have to wait in line like everybody else. Of course I’ll be paying the balance whenever you desire it. Is that doable?”
The thought of the sort of tab a garrison of hard-playing warriors could run up had the sound of clinking latinum ringing in her ears. "its doable, on the basis of a five bar deposit, and the tab paid fortnightly.. But I have a few conditions of my own."
Darson would have smiled if he could have. Instead he simply nodded and waved a hand to tell her to go ahead with her conditions.
"The first you've already covered, no special treatment. So as long as they aren't idiots to my staff or other clients, the more the merrier. I'm going to reserve the right to bar individuals who break the no arsehole rule."
Darson nodded, “Of course. So long as they’re in the box of delights, they are your customers. Do with them what you will, but I’ll make sure they stay in line.
"Second , I’m excluding custom programming and connoisseur products from the tab without prior authorization. neither Klia nor my speciality cellar are cheap, and i don't want you to get any nasty surprises. Likewise the gambling tables as that can get silly."
Darson shook his head and said, “Yes…I suppose so. And far be it from me to degrade my Marines…but I don’t think many of them are as true…enthusiasts…about the fine liquors of the galaxy such as myself. They’ll be fine with the standard fair. My one consideration of course, is for birthdays and other special occasions. Something special is indeed appropriate for the celebratory person, correct? Could you swing that?
She nodded. "I think that's fair enough."
"Finally, no orders. I want customers not prisoners. Feel free to tell your people they'll get a warm welcome here, but you don't have to force anyone across my doorway to get me to agree to this."
“My dear, the promise of an unlimited tab will be so appealing to them that I won’t have to order them. But if you want my assurance that I won’t actually force them to come here, I will. Anything else?”
She sipped her water. "So. Do we have a deal?"
“My dear,” Darson said, lowering his tone into a smoky growl, “We do indeed.”
He place the still half filled glass of wine down on the table and slid across the couch until he was next to her, “So…unlimited tab, tab paid off fortnightly…in exchange for those conditions. Sounds more than fair. And in return, you get not only the patronage of my entire regiment…more than a thousand Marines. But also the service of all Marines passing through the sector.”
She shrugged. "Is that going to be a lot more? I thought we were quite out of the way here?"
“Well, though we don’t look it, this station is a military waypoint facility. We get Starfleet and Marine ships passing through here all the time on patrol, shakedowns, and etcetera. I’ll circulate a notice through the Marine Secret Bar and Entertainment newsletter letting them know about this.”
"That's very good of you," She laughed. The patronage of the garrisoned marines was enough. The passing trade was a welcome extra.
Darson tilted his head and leaned forward to look up at her, “So, how should we celebrate your new-found source of income my dear? I think this calls for something very, very special.”
She raised one azure eyebrow. "And you have something in mind? Dare I ask what?"
“This time my dear, I shall provide,” he leaned over and picked up the wine glass and held it between them, shielding it from her gaze with his other hand, “Allow me to take this time to impart one lesson to you. Call it a bit of extra payment on your part to listen. Desire…is a powerful weapon. I have toppled empires, turned the closest of family against each other, manipulated the course of major events just by using that one little emotion.”
“But…if you can master it, control it, make it bend to your will,” he removed his hand to show that the glass which had previously been filled with the dark red Borolo, was now filled with a small amount of silver liquid. It’s movement and shimmery texture quickly gave away what it was.
Pure Liquid Latinum.
“You can make your dreams come true,” he said calmly handing her the glass.
It must have been at least a bar's worth. Maybe even two. The fingers that took the glass from Darson were turning an avaricious shade of pink rapidly. "That's a clever trick." She swirled the latinum around. "How's it done?"
Darson chuckled, “A magician never reveals his secrets my dear. I’d suggest just going with the flow…before I change it back to something far less valuable.”
Yolanthe smiled, "I had to ask." She gazed at the shimmering liquid, and the wealth it represented. "Well, Colonel, I think you've got your marines a place to enjoy themselves." She raised the glass to him, "Here's to Dreams."
Darson gave a throaty growl, “To dreams.”
OFF:
Colonel James Darson
“The Prestige”
Marine Commanding Officer
6th Combined Operations Group
Deep Space 5
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner, The Box of Delights
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | An offer you can't refuse | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Fri Jul 16, 2010 @ 6:07am | |
| Location | Yolanthe's office, the Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | Immediately after The 'Best' Shot |
Yolanthe's office was cool and silent, insulated from the noise and bustle of the main bar. It was a neat and formal affair in dark woods and light fabrics with no particular theme beyond that. Behind the desk, hanging from range of hooks and clips was a score or more of weapons, mostly small blades, but also a handful of small firearms, and incongruously, a small black leather drawstring bag, and a pair of men’s underwear, made from gold lame.
She indicated the couch and offered Darson a seat, whilst going to minibar and retrieving a bottle of mineral water from the little fridge underneath it. "Drink?" She asked, "A proper one this time?"
Darson entered the office and discretely looked around. Spies and assassins like him were trained to make lightning fast observation of their mark’s living space, picking up on the little things that could give him a clue to the target’s weak spot. But at this particular moment he wasn’t interested in coercing anything from her…that would come later. Right now he had to get his foot in the door. He sat down smoothly on the couch, his cloak furling around him and placed the case gently on the ground, “I never did get my chaser my dear. So I’ll take a wine. Something…elegant. With a fruity after-taste if you have the discerning pallet.”
She had several choices, but settled for her favorite, Barolo. She poured a generous glass and emptied her mineral water into a glass of her own, and sat on the other end of the couch to him. "Cheers." When they had clinked glasses and drunk, she put the glass down. "So, incredibly, incredibly wealthy?"
Darson wished the remaining liquid around in his glass as he said in an equally liquid tone, “ Incredibly, incredibly wealthy my dear. You see, I’m not sure if are aware of this, but you have some competition onboard this station. There are a couple of bars here and there that cater to some specific species, but the biggest one around here is the Matahari bar and grill. They’ve suffered some setbacks recently in the form of an intelligence investigation into their business, the chief of security on the station holding a personal grudge…among other things.”
"The Cardassian?" She nodded, "One of the reasons we decided to step up the entertainment focus. Just food and drink would have made us just another bar like hers" She sipped her water. "I did hear some things when we were location scouting. Though from what I hear, the chief of security holding a grudge is more like a seal of approval."
Darson chuckled, “I can see that you did your due-diligence. The point is that she hates Federation personnel and Marines in particular…me in even more particularity. She charges a massive premium on my poor Marines…that is if she even serves them at all. So I’ve been on the lookout for another alternative. And I thought I would never find one…until I heard about you.”
"Hating the federation on a federation station seems like a poor business strategy." Yolanthe allowed. "Federation personnel are more than welcome here, marines or otherwise, as long as they follow the same rules as everyone else. Which can be summed up as don't be an arsehole."
Darson balanced the delicate glass on the end of his finger and said nonchalantly, “What if I told you that I was willing to guarantee all of their patronage to you?”
"You mean the marines?" She thought about it. she knew there was a large garrison here, but its exact size she hadn't got a clue about. A lot of thirsty soldiers needing to relax. tempting. But it was also somewhat suspicious. "And you'd order them to come here? Why? What do you want in return?"
Darson made a sound of contemplation as he leaned back on the plush couch, “Does there need to be something I want in return?” he asked with a small shrug of his shoulders as he continued to contemplate the wine.
"Nobody offers to make someone else rich without wanting something in return."
“Well,” he said slowly as he tried to decide how much to tell her at this point, “What I want is my Marines to have a place to relax that they can afford. One less thing off of their plate to be concerned with. And I’m willing to pay top Latinum for such a place.”
His interest in his men's welfare appealed to her, chiming with her own species' attitudes, even if her own were driven by a somewhat more sexist view underneath. Still, she was a business not a charity? "How much latinum?"
“Ideally…well for starters I want to open up an unlimited tab for them. Bar, holosuites, etc. you name it. No preferential treatment of course, they’ll have to wait in line like everybody else. Of course I’ll be paying the balance whenever you desire it. Is that doable?”
The thought of the sort of tab a garrison of hard-playing warriors could run up had the sound of clinking latinum ringing in her ears. "its doable, on the basis of a five bar deposit, and the tab paid fortnightly.. But I have a few conditions of my own."
Darson would have smiled if he could have. Instead he simply nodded and waved a hand to tell her to go ahead with her conditions.
"The first you've already covered, no special treatment. So as long as they aren't idiots to my staff or other clients, the more the merrier. I'm going to reserve the right to bar individuals who break the no arsehole rule."
Darson nodded, “Of course. So long as they’re in the box of delights, they are your customers. Do with them what you will, but I’ll make sure they stay in line.
"Second , I’m excluding custom programming and connoisseur products from the tab without prior authorization. neither Klia nor my speciality cellar are cheap, and i don't want you to get any nasty surprises. Likewise the gambling tables as that can get silly."
Darson shook his head and said, “Yes…I suppose so. And far be it from me to degrade my Marines…but I don’t think many of them are as true…enthusiasts…about the fine liquors of the galaxy such as myself. They’ll be fine with the standard fair. My one consideration of course, is for birthdays and other special occasions. Something special is indeed appropriate for the celebratory person, correct? Could you swing that?
She nodded. "I think that's fair enough."
"Finally, no orders. I want customers not prisoners. Feel free to tell your people they'll get a warm welcome here, but you don't have to force anyone across my doorway to get me to agree to this."
“My dear, the promise of an unlimited tab will be so appealing to them that I won’t have to order them. But if you want my assurance that I won’t actually force them to come here, I will. Anything else?”
She sipped her water. "So. Do we have a deal?"
“My dear,” Darson said, lowering his tone into a smoky growl, “We do indeed.”
He place the still half filled glass of wine down on the table and slid across the couch until he was next to her, “So…unlimited tab, tab paid off fortnightly…in exchange for those conditions. Sounds more than fair. And in return, you get not only the patronage of my entire regiment…more than a thousand Marines. But also the service of all Marines passing through the sector.”
She shrugged. "Is that going to be a lot more? I thought we were quite out of the way here?"
“Well, though we don’t look it, this station is a military waypoint facility. We get Starfleet and Marine ships passing through here all the time on patrol, shakedowns, and etcetera. I’ll circulate a notice through the Marine Secret Bar and Entertainment newsletter letting them know about this.”
"That's very good of you," She laughed. The patronage of the garrisoned marines was enough. The passing trade was a welcome extra.
Darson tilted his head and leaned forward to look up at her, “So, how should we celebrate your new-found source of income my dear? I think this calls for something very, very special.”
She raised one azure eyebrow. "And you have something in mind? Dare I ask what?"
“This time my dear, I shall provide,” he leaned over and picked up the wine glass and held it between them, shielding it from her gaze with his other hand, “Allow me to take this time to impart one lesson to you. Call it a bit of extra payment on your part to listen. Desire…is a powerful weapon. I have toppled empires, turned the closest of family against each other, manipulated the course of major events just by using that one little emotion.”
“But…if you can master it, control it, make it bend to your will,” he removed his hand to show that the glass which had previously been filled with the dark red Borolo, was now filled with a small amount of silver liquid. It’s movement and shimmery texture quickly gave away what it was.
Pure Liquid Latinum.
“You can make your dreams come true,” he said calmly handing her the glass.
It must have been at least a bar's worth. Maybe even two. The fingers that took the glass from Darson were turning an avaricious shade of pink rapidly. "That's a clever trick." She swirled the latinum around. "How's it done?"
Darson chuckled, “A magician never reveals his secrets my dear. I’d suggest just going with the flow…before I change it back to something far less valuable.”
Yolanthe smiled, "I had to ask." She gazed at the shimmering liquid, and the wealth it represented. "Well, Colonel, I think you've got your marines a place to enjoy themselves." She raised the glass to him, "Here's to Dreams."
Darson gave a throaty growl, “To dreams.”
OFF:
Colonel James Darson
“The Prestige”
Marine Commanding Officer
6th Combined Operations Group
Deep Space 5
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner, The Box of Delights