If it's Pink, Eat it (Part 1 of 3)

Posted on 29 Jan 2017 @ 11:25pm by General ('aj) Ko'raH House of G'Iogh & Commander Aren Ban & Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim & Lieutenant JG Stephanie Fraiser (KIA) & Commander Marisa Wyatt & Ensign Miraj Derani & Senior Chief Petty Officer Martin Caine (KIA) & Ambassador Soral Varro

1,641 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 13 - Rogue
Location: Kreanus Colony - Deck 11, Primary Galley
Timeline: MD 04 - 1900 hrs

[ON]

Chow time at the main galley was always a fun affair at Kreanus Colony. With a population of close to 20,000 and only ten primary dining facilities, the major meal times often resulted in a controlled riot in the mess halls during which every Kreanan not posted on one of their starships made a mad dash for the protein replicators before the daily provision allowance was exhausted. Those who were lucky and fortunate enough to get to the buffet line first were greeted with fresh hydroponically-grown fruits, vegetables, and spices along with various types of baked bread. Fresh meat was much more rare for it had to be farmed directly from either the targ or chicken pens -- and whatever protein wasn't served fresh had to be provided by the makeshift replicator system.

Children, adolescents, and the elderly were often given priority for fresh food while the working-age adults waited their turn before entering the mess hall. But once that had happened, floods of people from all species surged into the dining area to stand in line at the replicators and hopefully find a seat at one of the few tables present. The scene was loud, chatty, and usually demure, but it provided a melting pot of culture and interaction for all Kreanans regardless of race, gender, or prior political affiliation. The Klingons often preferred to sit among their own kind but the rest of the tables and groups of people were littered with diversity. Andorians, Bajorans, and Remans conversed while standing to eat their meals while older Ferengi and Cardassians shared stories of business and trade during the Dominion War. The few Vulcans present often preferred to mingle with Humans, Tellarites, and the rare Caitian or two.

The Galileo survivors had arrived a bit late and the dining facility was already packed almost shoulder to shoulder with people. Provisions were still being served at the replicator and a whispering rumor of dessert seemed to be floating around across the many tongues.

Marisa sat at a crowded table near the door, watching people come and go. It was one of the few ways of learning what was going on. She hoped she'd be able to get information on the tarship and its crew.

Petra sat at a table in the back, listening to a conversation on the recent mold outbreak in one of the vegetable patches. She wasn't so sure about their ideas to try a mixture of lye and borax, but she didn't think they had the equipment for a proper chemical analysis.

A boisterous commotion slowly became louder and louder as a group of short Ferengi approached a table near the door. Food trays in hand while arguing over the latest exchange rate gossip on the interstellar network, they took small bites of their protein bars and continued to squabble. Out of the corner of their eye they spied several occupants of the adjacent table begin to wrap up their meals and stand, and in one swift collective movement, five of them had seated themselves in only three chairs. They crowded together and chatted without paying the dark-haired woman across from them much mind.

"Do you know I can get ten slips per gallon for the fresh water this colony produces if I sold it at Bajor during the occupation?" one of them said. "Ten slips! I would be the next Nagus if I could control that market."

"Before or after your transportation and insurance costs, Kik?" scowled another. "Everyone wants water. They just don't know how to get it. They think their 'replicators' are fresh but they don't take into account cost-efficiency curves for maintenance and equipment purchases. If I could--"

"Fres, you know nothing about efficiency. The last business you ran selling targ pups to petting zoos on Earth was a disaster. Once the Hew-mons realized you'd generically engineered Risian forest hogs, you ended up over five hundred bars in debt to the Nagus himself!"

Marisa raised an eyebrow. These Ferengi might actually prove of interest. How had they come to Kreanus, and what was this about water? Were they responsible for the water here?

"That's why you sell special mineral water. Say it came from Risian artesian wells and triple the cost. That'll cover overhead and give you a nice profit," she commented. "Add some vitamins and a stimulant and say it has special healing properties."

Fres, Kik and the other three Ferengi regarded the hybrid with scrutiny and began to speak in hushed tones among themselves in their own native language. It didn't take long before Kik spoke up. "No,"

"No," came another reply.

"No," came a third, almost all in unison.

Fres began to elaborate. "Nok already controls the market. And he has several competitors," he started to explain.

"And the Nagus has already hired him on his advisory staff!" Kik added with a wave of his protein stick, accidentally flinging a bit of food onto the face of the Vulcan hybrid in front of them.

Marisa brushed the food away and nodded. "But surely there aren't other markets somewhere that aren't already controlled by the Grand Nagus?"

The Ferengi all began to exchange looks with each other and a small bit of laughter bounced back and forth between the group. "Other markets?"

"Not in this quadrant," said Fres.

"Or in the Alpha quadrant," added another. "The Grand Nagus has business partners everywhere. Even in your Federation."

"So you've covered all known territories?" Marisa asked. "Too bad for those still seeking their own profit."

Kik chewed on his protein stick and pondered some of the possibilities. "Well..." he began, "there's always the Mirror Universe, of course... but the Nagus already tried that and it didn't work out for him. I think the Hew-mons were in the middle of some galactic war and didn't want to do business with anyone not their kind."

"From what I've heard, the Mirror Universe is too dangerous, even for trading." Marisa shrugged. "Well, I do wish you luck finding your own niche."

The Ferengi all nodded in agreement with the woman's conclusion and became silent for a moment. It took latinum-sized balls to even attempt business ventures in the Mirror Universe, let alone begin to plan the logistics. The insurance and risk was far too expensive for only the wealthiest to afford.

"Do you have any ideas or...opportunities?" one of them suddenly asked before he was swiftly prodded in the ribs by another. "What?! We can give her a cut. Two percent of the initial sales for her connections," he whispered to Fres.

"I wish I did," Marisa replied. "But I've been stuck here for several months. And, being Starfleet, my contacts are already well known to you. All I have are ideas, which don't work for your current situation. Sorry."

More whispering suddenly ensued between the Ferengi which eventually became rather animated and boisterous. Finally, after a few long moments and several more bites of their protein sticks, the group of them turned back to her in unison. Fres put his hands on the table and anxiously leaned over. "We have decided to accept your offer. We will give you five slips for your ideas."

Marisa raised an eyebrow. That sounded more than fair -- and a little suspicious. "Okay. What sort of ideas and how many do you expect?"

"We want ALL your ideas," Fres said with big awaiting eyes and a sharp-toothed grin.

"Yes, all of them," echoed another. Nods circulated around the group in unison. "And don't leave anything out!" One of them rummaged through his pockets and procured a small maroon datapad with Ferengi glyphs on it, then discreetly slid it across the table to Sandoval for her to use.

Marisa didn't touch the data pad. Not until she got a few things straightened out. "No. Not all my ideas. They belong to me and to whomever I work for. I will offer you my ideas on this one particular subject, and nothing more. And only for the space of three months. If, at that point, we all wish to continue the agreement, we can extend it."

Hushed mumbling and whispering promptly ensued among the Ferengi in their native tongue. While not a particularly bad offer, they of course attempted to tilt it more in their favor. Kik spoke up this time.

"We want all of your business ideas for three months," he agreed. "And a list of all your contacts in Starfleet," he suddenly added. "For an extra two slips."

"No. Not my contacts," Marisa said. "You go too far. And so, gentlemen, good day." Marisa stood, picked up her tray, and headed to the recycler. Money would be helpful around here, but the cost was too high.

Loud and boisterous grumbling quickly led to a shouting match between the Ferengi entourage once the Starfleet woman had departed the table. Accusations flew between the four of them, and pushing and shoving soon ensued. The arguments between the group would continue deep into the evening, but thankfully, the junior counselor wouldn't be around to hear the rest of it in the galley.

To Be Continued...

[OFF]

--

Fres
Businessman
Kreanus Colony
[PNPC Ko'raH]

Kik
Businessman
Kreanus Colony
[PNPC Ko'raH]

Other Ferengi
Businessmen
Kreanus Colony
[PNPC Ko'raH]

Lieutenant JG Marisa Sandoval
Counselor

Lieutenant JG Petra Varelli
Forensic Anthropologist
[PNPC Sandoval]

Cmdr Allyndra illm Warraquim
Chief Medical and Second Officer
USS Galileo

Ensign Miraj Derani
Chief Flight Control Officer
Galileo

SCPO Martin Caine
Chief of the Boat
USS Galileo

LTJG Stephanie Fraiser
Chief Research Officer
USS Galileo

Commander Aren Ban
First Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Braxton MacKenzie
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo
[PNPC Varro]

ENS Eelim Galan
Security/Tactical Officer
USS Galileo
[PNPC Varro]

PO1 Eveiss
Medical Officer
USS Galileo
[PNPC Varro]

Tannis
[PNPC Warraquim]

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