Season 3 Episode 2 - The Price of Pleasure

[Odelot]

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942]

The Room was Big.

Very, very big.

And it was shiny.  Not just in the way polished things were shiny, but also in the way rich things were shiny.  Some of the things were covered in stabilized latinum, which made Odelot want to dismount them from the walls and put them in a big bag that he would take away from here.  It made him wide-eyed and open-mouthed to think of how rich you had to be to want latinum on your walls and in your bathroom instead of in your money pouch.

"This is for very much rich people!" He exclaimed to himself as he inspected the suite.

Then he remembered why he was here, and quieted himself.  He went back to looking around.

Couch, chairs, bed, carpets.  All plush and made of weird real-life stuff.  Like skins and furs and cloth with a lot of strings in it.  Made by hands instead of machines.  Made in old ways.

A terminal station at a desk, for those people who could never have a good time without working.

Latinum-plated fixtures and a latinum-plated toilet in the bathroom.  Huge bath tub with shower.  Real water.  The toilet had an adjustable seat, so that even people with weird butts could sit there.  Odelot got undressed and sat on the toilet.  The scene that followed was exceedingly loud.

Odelot thought that he was a pretty good looking man, perfectly plump in the Pakled way, coming in at a perfect 140 kilograms.  He had a jolly face with a big, happy smile.  But even though he was handsome (his mother always said so) he also knew that strangers would not want to see him naked.  He also knew that very few people would want to watch him poop.   Definitely no one would want to hear him poop.  So, if he was being watched and listened to, this seemed to be the best way to make someone want to watch and listen to someone else.

Once he'd been sitting there for a moment, and several trumpets of gastrointestinal release had been broadcast along with the sound of watery impacts, he bent forward to rifle through his discarded jumpsuit.  Out came his tricorder- which, like all of his tools, was a cobbled-together piece of salvage that contained components from a dozen worlds.  Starfleet gave out nice shiny equipment, but this was not a mission for nice shiny equipment.  This was a mission for his own Pakled Toolbox, which he got as a gift for his birthday many years ago.  He used the tricorder to scan the room he was in.

'There go the light tubes,' he thought to himself, noting the position of the ODN lines running inside one of the bathroom walls.  In the Starfleet Technical Services Academy, Odelot had learned that light tubes were called 'fiber-optic cables,' and even more appropriately 'Optical Data Network Lines.'  They carried packets of light which transmitted the information running through computer networks.  Networks like the one The Oasis used, which would later link to the Resort's larger computer network.   A Terabit of data was transmitted through the line every second... which was, like... a lot.

The Oasis and the larger Resort could have more easily transmitted all of their data wirelessly, of course, shooting all of the information into the air so that you could grab it with an antenna instead of having to plug into hardlines.  But there were a lot of bad people who came to these places.  The Captain had said so.  Not only would these bad people hate to stay somewhere that shot their information into the air... they would probably like to grab other people's information from the air if it was out there.  Shooting people's information all over the air was something the Academy had called 'Intercept-able' and 'Insecure' without 'Very High Level Encryption.'  That basically meant that people could get to it pretty easy, and you had to use really hard ways to make it so that no bad people could read it.

Keeping sensitive data in the light tubes- or ODN lines- meant that it was much harder to grab.  You had to get to the lines, which were inside the walls and inside of security-protected conduits, and someone was bound to notice if you broke one open.  But if you were really, really smart, you could get to the light inside the tube without breaking the tube open.

Adjusting the focus of his tricorder, Odelot turned his attention to nearby optical and audio sensors- cameras and microphones that were used to get a look at everyone who stayed in the hotel.  There was a pair in the bathroom.  More in the bedroom.  Four more in the suite entry room.  Two in the office nook.

Tucking the tricorder back into his discarded jumpsuit, Odelot stood up and looked for the butt-wipes.  He didn't find any, and sat back down, confused.

A console beside the toilet caught his attention.  He began to play with the controls, his eyes opening wide once or twice in surprise- and discomfort- at what some of the options were.  Finally, he found the butt-cleaning and butt-drying options.  He played with them for a few minutes.  It was pretty neat.

You could control the strength of the butt water spray and its temperature.  You could change the frequency of the sonic butt-shower option (if you didn't like water shooting into your butthole.)  And the butt-dryer also had adjustable strength and temperature.  Then, like a cherry on top of a sundae, there was a butt-perfume nozzle that spritzed your cheeks with any one of 32 smells.

Odelot finally settled on Alpine Mist.  It was pretty nice.  It made his butt smell like a big green forest.

Once his butt had been cleaned about twenty times with different options, he got up and went to the giant bath tub shower.   He turned the shower up all the way, and also turned the heat of the water to maximum.   The shower was loud, and hot, and a steamy mist soon filled the room.

Now it was time for Odelot to begin his real work.

Crouching, he took out a handheld laser torch from one of his jumpsuit's bountiful pockets.  He found the section of bathroom wall he'd noted earlier as containing the main ODN lines which ran up and down, connecting all of the floors of the hotel to the hotel's main computer in the basement.

He held the laser torch close to the wall, to prevent the particles of steamy mist in the air from obstructing the beam, or creating a prismatic deflection.  You could shoot your eye out that way!

In a little while, he had a square of the beautiful bathroom tile cut away and removed.  Then he took an optical inductor from one of his cargo pockets and clamped it onto the ODN line.  The inductor would not only be able to detect the photons moving through the light tubes, but it could also make tiny alterations to their arrangement as they passed through the photo-induction loop.  Basically, the tool could peep inside at the information, and also poke it without touching it.  It was pretty neat stuff.

With that accomplished, he hooked the inductor to his personal PADD with a physical datalink line, and began monitoring the data coming through the hotel's network.  Due to the hotel's very secure nature, with its very secure ODN network, the encryption inside the main data trunks was not very good.  It was like how the locks on doors inside a house were not as good as the locks to get in from outside.

Odelot himself was not very smart with encryption, but he did not have to be.   The Federation and Starfleet was full of very smart people who made very smart programs that could do this sort of thing for you.  You just had to wait, and...

The formerly encrypted data became fully accessible data before his eyes.

Odelot started by accessing his own suite's video and audio feeds.  He could see the empty entry area, office nook, bedroom area.  He could see the steamy bathroom he was in, blinded to observation and confused by the loud white-noise created by the raging shower.

Recording a bit of video from the feeds, he placed it into a loop as a test, feeding it back into the ODN line.  The inductor dutifully injected altered signal data into the hotel network, changing the raw photonic packets with new information.

Odelot smiled.  Now he was tricking the hotel people real good.

Opening a visual spoofing program, he took samples of earlier footage and created virtual Odelot activity.  Odelot in the living room.  Odelot in the bathroom.  Odelot pooping loudly.  Odelot showering.  Then he attached a small tachyon transciever to his PADD's output jack.

He touched his jumpsuit's belt buckle, making sure the tachyon communicator in the belt-buckle was transmitting to the PADD.  Two taps, and the spoofing program was on.  One tap, and it was off.  Good.  He put the spoofer on, and then shut off the shower.   Then he got dressed before putting down the toilet seat lid and continuing his work.   On the video feeds, a false Odelot finished his shower and went back to pooping.  The false Odelot would later wander into the living room, sit at a desk, lay on the bed, in a random rotation of nonsensical activity for as long as the spoofer was active.

The real Odelot was far from finished.

He pulled up the guest data from the hotel computer, imitating legitimate requests from the front desk.  He found the members of his Starfleet team.  He found their rooms.  He found their room video and audio feeds.  For those that had checked in, he proceeded to create fake versions of them so that their rooms could also be spoofed.  These spoofed images would replace their real-life activities whenever they wished, as long as they gave the appropriate taps from their concealed tachyon communicators.  On a mission like this, tachyon coms were better than subspace coms.

Tachyon communications were so unusual for this type of thing, unless someone knew what to look for, they'd never know anyone was communicating at all.  You couldn't hear someone talking if you weren't listening.

It took about an hour for Odelot to complete the job.  He was very tired by the time he was done, his back and shoulders hurting from sitting on the toilet and hunching over, working with the little PADD.  But finally he was finished, and he could stand and stretch.

Then he tapped his belt-buckle three times.  That would send a signal to the entire tachyon com network of hidden communicators that the team had been provided with.

Hello everyone!  This is Odelot!  Odelot is done tricking their computers.  There is picture-takers and listeners in the hotel rooms, but they are seeing only a fake you whenever you want.  Two touches makes the fake pictures go on.  One touch makes the fake pictures go off.  Odelot is into their computers, now.  Tell Odelot what you want to know.  Odelot will find it and tell you.  Okay? 

He sighed and smiled.

He had done a good job today.

[TRell]

[Resort]

This kind of thing was really not Adeyemi's style.

Scantily clad, attractive people were sauntering all around him, dressed for the weather or the pool. Couples hand in hand, yelling children, all of it back dropped against a bright, festive atmosphere that was totally ad odds with his personality. He was not a vacation kind of guy.

Even so, he had to look his part. It was tradecraft. He hadn't shaved his face or his head in the last week: a smattering of salt and pepper seedlings of hair dusted his skull, cheeks, upper lip, and chin. He wished it would grow faster, but it made him look sufficiently older. He was also dressed in a very loud, colorful green one piece romper and matching slippers. After he had stepped off the Red Phoenix, a gorgeous, golden skinned woman had placed a garland of flowers around his neck, and kissed his stubbled cheek.

As if that wasn't bad enough, now the captain herself was clinging to him as if he was her master. It was unnerving, but he had a job to do. They all did.

"Laying it on a little thick, don't you think?" Adeyemi said to her in a low voice, not using her rank.

[Resort]

T'Rell walked, stalked was a better term, behind the two, her normally clean and well combed hair now mussed and unkempt with the application of a little engine grease, she kept her teeth bared and snarled at anyone who got within range, or even looked over at them, most of the well dressed folk gave them a wide berth which suited T'Rell just fine, for now it made her job easier, more conspicuous but flamboyance was something this Resort had in spades.  The first part of the mission was for her the easiest, blend in and protect the crew, normally she would have been restricted to her methods of doing just that, but this was undercover, on a non federation controlled world, surrounded by hostiles, this left her options much more open, and T'Rell found that idea equal parts frightening and thrilling, she purred softly to herself and flexed her claws, hissing at tall human who wandered into her 'safe' zone, The second part of the mission was much more hazardous find, and wait for the chance to 'go loud' a term she found in an old Terran textbook, and allow the team to extract the dealer while she and other non command staff ran interference, she purred louder at the thought, a rare chance for her to tap into that small part that every Caitian had inside them and denied, at least that was her hope, if not her actual orders.

[Felicity Ellis]

[Lobby]

Dihiq wasn't sure what to do. He feared the counselor, but he didn't want to blow his cover. Maybe he just had to become someone else.

"Howdy!" Dihiq said in a thick Texan accent. "I just went to the-the lil' boys' room."
He had to admit, he did need a room.
"I-I do need a room, I do declare," he added. "The ol' witch didn' think to git me one."

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Lobby]

Felicity blinked rapidly, processing Dihiq's unexpected accent. She recognised the inflection as Texan, which by itself would have been strange, but Dihiq was a Klingon. Her head cocked slightly to one side at his mention of the old witch, too. He usually referred to Lieutenant Eastman as a witch, or more specifically, the witch, but why would she have organised a room for his southern alter ego?

Unless it was just part of the act, or perhaps the young man couldn't help but think or speak of Eastman during times of stress. "Sure," she answered slowly. Having firsthand experience of just how sensitive Dihiq could be, she needed to approach with caution. Even if he'd presented a more confident self back on the Phoenix, or even indeed capable of stringing a sentence together here in The Oasis, she'd still have to soften herself. "You can have one of mine. Once Volskene is finished with..."

She trailed off as soon as she'd turned to gesture toward the Tholian, who was scuttling toward them, leaving a crying Orion attendant in his wake.

An inordinate time scale later, during which the Tholian had on multiple occasions commented on the Orion servant's ancestors and nearly gotten security summoned twice, Volskene emerged victorious with a keycard granting him access to said room. He galloped to the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember, still visible in the spacious lobby, and immediately apprised her further of the situation.

"The temperature will be adequate. However, it seems that, rather unsurprisingly, the correct atmosphere cannot be provided. I have a solution. Provided courtesy of the engineering castes. Installing the proper gas generators will resolve the issues. See that we can arrange it-"

Volskene stopped suddenly. The Primary Medical Ruling Castemember was speaking to a complete stranger. A Klingon! he was aware of their appearance due to the proximity of Assembly space to their empire. His people and the Klingons had a rather uneasy neutral relationship, though they had nearly gone to war on a number of occasions (the Klingons' fault, of course). But.. this one appeared absolutely ridiculous. More so than the typical individual. It was mainly the fur upon his pate; a very intrusive, golden colour. Volskene did not care to comment, simply waiting for the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember to realize his reappearance and his acquisition of lodgings.

She listened as Volskene gave her his important report, waiting for him to notice Dihiq. She knew exactly the moment when he did; for he fell completely silent. "I will speak with management." Felicity glanced back at a Saurian who was busy trying to give a peptalk to the young female who'd been exposed to Volskene's uniqueness. The Tholian was indeed quite the anomaly, she thought with a surprising lack of impatience. "Should we need to, we can enlist a little assistance from others of the engineering castes."

Felicity made a mental note to tip the staff handsomely.

"Might I introduce Specialist Volskene," she said very quietly to Dihiq, not wanting to confuse matters further. She'd taken the temperature of this group and she wasn't all too happy with the result. Explanations regarding deceptions and identities would have to wait until they were somewhere a little quieter. The bellhop was already moving off with her single case, and she was keen to keep it in her eye-line. "Shall we keep things moving, gents?"

[Judith Eastman]

[23rd floor]

As the suspicious McRib didn't seem to be talking, Judy quietly led her companions to one of their rooms. There, she could finally drop the accent.
"Phew! That was exhausting!" Judy exhaled. "I need some coffee."

After setting aside her hat, sunglasses, purse, and cane, she walked over to the coffee machine to get a fix of her precious caffeine.
"Before we dig into Lyric's outfit, do either of you want a cup of joe?" she asked politely.

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Lobby]

Felicity blinked rapidly, processing Dihiq's unexpected accent. She recognised the inflection as Texan, which by itself would have been strange, but Dihiq was a Klingon. Her head cocked slightly to one side at his mention of the old witch, too. He usually referred to Lieutenant Eastman as a witch, or more specifically, the witch, but why would she have organised a room for his southern alter ego?

Unless it was just part of the act, or perhaps the young man couldn't help but think or speak of Eastman during times of stress. "Sure," she answered slowly. Having firsthand experience of just how sensitive Dihiq could be, she needed to approach with caution. Even if he'd presented a more confident self back on the Phoenix, or even indeed capable of stringing a sentence together here in The Oasis, she'd still have to soften herself. "You can have one of mine. Once Volskene is finished with..."

She trailed off as soon as she'd turned to gesture toward the Tholian, who was scuttling toward them, leaving a crying Orion attendant in his wake.

She listened as Volskene gave her his important report, waiting for him to notice Dihiq. She knew exactly the moment when he did; for he fell completely silent. "I will speak with management." Felicity glanced back at a Saurian who was busy trying to give a peptalk to the young female who'd been exposed to Volskene's uniqueness. The Tholian was indeed quite the anomaly, she thought with a surprising lack of impatience. "Should we need to, we can enlist a little assistance from others of the engineering castes."

Felicity made a mental note to tip the staff handsomely.

"Might I introduce Specialist Volskene," she said very quietly to Dihiq, not wanting to confuse matters further. She'd taken the temperature of this group and she wasn't all too happy with the result. Explanations regarding deceptions and identities would have to wait until they were somewhere a little quieter. The bellhop was already moving off with her single case, and she was keen to keep it in her eye-line. "Shall we keep things moving, gents?"

[Lobby]

Dihiq forced in a scream at the sight of a Tholian. The big, intimidating environmental suit intensified the already fearsome effect of that species, which left Dihiq horrified.

"A-a-a-are you a th-th-tholian?" Dihiq inquired in fear.

[Four of Twenty]

His brief conversation with the Captain had been a pleasant ordeal. He had hoped he had made a good first impression. Her demeanor certainly didn't lead him to believe otherwise. A satisfied grin rested on his lips throughout the rest of the trip, including the inoculations against the pheromone assault they were about to partake in. However, stepping off of the Phoenix, his expression became more stoic.

[Lobby]

His hands clasped behind his back, his nose in the air. Four carried himself like a proper Romulan. Those around him were simply beneath him. His demeanor screamed it. His black silks shined brilliantly. The red sash that draped behind him billowed like the cape of a monarch. His cybernetics were nothing more than scars acquired on the journeys to the top.

His backstory was simple enough. Held in a Federation prison was a Romulan mercenary named Del'Ayn of House Velshaar. He was a rather infamous soldier for hire, being held for numerous war crimes committed in his tenure. Four was the keeper of his estates. A benefactor who made sure that Del'Ayn's finances stayed in order until his release.

Approaching the desk, he dusted off his fingernails before resting them on the well polished surface. "Abi'Ddon of House Velshaar." The attendant looked through the reservations before grabbing the keycard. "Yes, of course. You're in Room..." Before she could finish, Four snatched the card out of her hand. "I can read, thank you. Send a bottle of chilled Ale to the room."

Reaching his room, he walked to the balcony. Drinking in the view, he couldn't help but compare it to Romulus. It was a level of beauty that was found nowhere else in the Galaxy. That would never be found again. But, now wasn't the time for nostalgia. There was a mission at hand.

His thoughts were interrupted by the chime at the door. Room service came through with a chilled bottle of the establishment's finest Romulan Ale. After tipping the employee, Four poured himself a glass, taking a light sip. His eye closed as he took a deep breath. It was a taste he hadn't enjoyed since graduating the Academy.

[Lyric McDaniels]

[23rd floor]

As the suspicious McRib didn't seem to be talking, Judy quietly led her companions to one of their rooms. There, she could finally drop the accent.
"Phew! That was exhausting!" Judy exhaled. "I need some coffee."

After setting aside her hat, sunglasses, purse, and cane, she walked over to the coffee machine to get a fix of her precious caffeine.
"Before we dig into Lyric's outfit, do either of you want a cup of joe?" she asked politely.

[Resort - Judy's Suite]

Lyric had followed closely behind Judy for the whole ordeal. She was thankful the woman slipped into character so easily and had a naturally forceful presence. Left to her own devices, the timid engineer would have been stuttering and stammering in a corner, ignored or escorted out by security. Additionally, she was also grateful for the handbag the unusual Klingon Dihiq had dropped, as she clutched onto it like a security blanket.

However, it was little help when she had noticed the Captain snuggled up next to Malcolm. Her already rapidly draining confidence took yet another hit at the sight. A tiny logical part of her knew it was most likely part of the mission. A larger part of her, noted they looked good together, and the Captain was an amazingly intelligent and beautiful woman. She brooded throughout the entire lift ride, and remained silent, despite recognizing "Dr. McRib" as a fellow engineer from the Starbase.

Lyric scuttled into the room after Judy, and following her lead, deposited the handbag on the table with the woman's other assorted accessories. It landed with a small thunk, being rather weighty. It reminded her of when she'd carry a satchel for her engineering tools, and she wondered what sort of tools were inside.

"Thank you for offering, ma'am. I didn't realize coffee had a first name. I don't drink anything, but I fix enough replicators to know some of the beverage things." She glanced around the lushly appointed room, everything seemed state of the art and luxurious. On a nearby shelf was a vase of strongly scented flowers. With a single slim fingertip, she reached out and delicately touched a fragile petal. "Antarian moon blossoms, fresh cut. These are really rare. I guess they spare no expenses here." Her shoulders slumped inward, as she felt even further out of her element.

[Lyric McDaniels]

[Gilded Lily]

Hust entered the establishment, and after looking around, made his way to the barman. An observant person would be able to see the grimace he made as he entered. Federation Prison, for better or worse, had gotten him off substances, but his mental shields were still low. That made it incredibly annoying to enter a place with several people, and downright unbearable when another empath was flexing their metaphorical muscles. It was an unfortunate tell, but one that he didn't really have the time or effort to correct.

He approached the barman and gave the phrase ordered, waiting to see what would happen next.

[NPC Post as Cage and Kida]

[The Gilded Lily]

The barman nodded, and pointed Hust in the direction of the table Kida and Cage currently occupied. Kida waited for the suspicious hew-mon to walk over to them. She had spotted him right away when he walked into the bar, nervous as a long-tailed swamp rat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"Come come, sit and make yourself comfortable. My name is Kida, and that twitchy lout is my ungrateful son, Cage." The lout in question looked thoroughly unimpressed, and kept his arms crossed. He at least had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for now. Getting his foot stomped on again by his moomsie's sharp heeled pump was an injury he'd just as soon avoid.

The Ferengi woman's sharp gaze raked over Hust like talons. He seemed, hungry. It was more than his too thin frame, and the deep lines etched in his face. She'd use that, hunger was just another name for greed and a Ferengi knew all about greed. "Please, feel free to order whatever you like, on my tab. After all, I invited you here. It would be rude if I did not see to my guest's needs. I'd offer you a share of our meal, however I have found most hew-mons find grubs and other delights... distasteful."

Cage inhaled sharply. "You didn't say anything about feeding him. He's got the look of some abandoned, rangy stray animal already." He drew in another sharp gasp, involuntarily as Kida jammed her knobby elbow square in-between two of his rib bones.

"Rule Number 214: Never begin a business negotiation on an empty stomach. Shut your flapping gums, boy, and open your ears while your betters speak. You might learn something." Kida hissed at him, annoyed. She turned back to Hust, with a conciliatory tone, "I do apologize for him. He was spoiled by his father, who should have beat him about the lobes with a switch. But please, have something to eat, a bit to drink, and then we can get down to the business of why I asked you here."

[Volskene]

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Lobby]

Felicity blinked rapidly, processing Dihiq's unexpected accent. She recognised the inflection as Texan, which by itself would have been strange, but Dihiq was a Klingon. Her head cocked slightly to one side at his mention of the old witch, too. He usually referred to Lieutenant Eastman as a witch, or more specifically, the witch, but why would she have organised a room for his southern alter ego?

Unless it was just part of the act, or perhaps the young man couldn't help but think or speak of Eastman during times of stress. "Sure," she answered slowly. Having firsthand experience of just how sensitive Dihiq could be, she needed to approach with caution. Even if he'd presented a more confident self back on the Phoenix, or even indeed capable of stringing a sentence together here in The Oasis, she'd still have to soften herself. "You can have one of mine. Once Volskene is finished with..."

She trailed off as soon as she'd turned to gesture toward the Tholian, who was scuttling toward them, leaving a crying Orion attendant in his wake.

She listened as Volskene gave her his important report, waiting for him to notice Dihiq. She knew exactly the moment when he did; for he fell completely silent. "I will speak with management." Felicity glanced back at a Saurian who was busy trying to give a peptalk to the young female who'd been exposed to Volskene's uniqueness. The Tholian was indeed quite the anomaly, she thought with a surprising lack of impatience. "Should we need to, we can enlist a little assistance from others of the engineering castes."

Felicity made a mental note to tip the staff handsomely.

"Might I introduce Specialist Volskene," she said very quietly to Dihiq, not wanting to confuse matters further. She'd taken the temperature of this group and she wasn't all too happy with the result. Explanations regarding deceptions and identities would have to wait until they were somewhere a little quieter. The bellhop was already moving off with her single case, and she was keen to keep it in her eye-line. "Shall we keep things moving, gents?"

[Lobby]

Dihiq forced in a scream at the sight of a Tholian. The big, intimidating environmental suit intensified the already fearsome effect of that species, which left Dihiq horrified.

"A-a-a-are you a th-th-tholian?" Dihiq inquired in fear.

[Oasis Lobby]

The Tholian continued to stand there for a short time... was this truly a Klingon or just a human with cosmetic modifications? His demeanor certainly suggested the latter, as any Klingon worth his cranial ridges would have long since drawn his disruptor pistol and brandished it at a sworn enemy such as he. Then again, Volskene definitely did not underestimate Starfleet; he couldn't put it past them to disguise their operatives as such. The unnatural fur upon his head only added to the Tholian's rapidly deepening paranoia.

He moved right, then left, then centered himself once more, as if trying to appraise the scene before him.

Finally, turning to the Primary Medical Castemember, and then back to the unknown Klingon (?), Volskene responded, "You are a Klingon?" His raised his long, clawed limbs, holding them out at his sides.

[Judith Eastman]

The Tholian continued to stand there for a short time... was this truly a Klingon or just a human with cosmetic modifications? His demeanor certainly suggested the latter, as any Klingon worth his cranial ridges would have long since drawn his disruptor pistol and brandished it at a sworn enemy such as he. Then again, Volskene definitely did not underestimate Starfleet; he couldn't put it past them to disguise their operatives as such. The unnatural fur upon his head only added to the Tholian's rapidly deepening paranoia.

He moved right, then left, then centered himself once more, as if trying to appraise the scene before him.

Finally, turning to the Primary Medical Castemember, and then back to the unknown Klingon (?), Volskene responded, "You are a Klingon?" His raised his long, clawed limbs, holding them out at his sides.

[Lobby]

Dihiq let out a high-pitched whimper as the Tholian addressed him. He didn't know what history Klingons and Tholians had (he currently had a D+ in his history course, and seldom rose above the C level in that subject on any level), but now he was sure that it was awful. It made him welp. Worse...

Dihiq watched a stain the shape of Florida rapidly expand down his pant leg. Then, as if it was in the midst of a recount, it grew again.

"Y-y-y-yes, I-I-I a-a-am," he said, red in the face and wet in the crotchal region and below.

[Volskene]

[Lobby]

Dihiq let out a high-pitched whimper as the Tholian addressed him. He didn't know what history Klingons and Tholians had (he currently had a D+ in his history course, and seldom rose above the C level in that subject on any level), but now he was sure that it was awful. It made him welp. Worse...

Dihiq watched a stain the shape of Florida rapidly expand down his pant leg. Then, as if it was in the midst of a recount, it grew again.

"Y-y-y-yes, I-I-I a-a-am," he said, red in the face and wet in the crotchal region and below.

[Oasis Lobby]

Volskene glared on as the poor excuse of a Klingon stood there, stammering. And then... what in the lava lakes of Tholia? He was leaking. The Tholian had never seen such a thing, but it triggered an even more primal repulsion in his thoughtspace than the typical disdain for humanoids. Almost as if out of his control, Volskene's right limb extended, claws pointed in such a way as to deliver a hard smack directly to the sorry Klingon's face.

Not much of a warrior (Volskene came from the scientific castes, after all), he was certain that the physical outburst would be barely noticed by his opponent. His people preferred to do their warfare from behind a sensor screen, anyway. The Tholian's thoughts wove fierce circles in the immediate aftermath of bright thoughtcolours of ire.

[Hust Kinun]

[NPC Post as Cage and Kida]

[The Gilded Lily]

The barman nodded and pointed Hust in the direction of the table Kida and Cage currently occupied. Kida waited for the suspicious hew-mon to walk over to them. She had spotted him right away when he walked into the bar, nervous as a long-tailed swamp rat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"Come come, sit and make yourself comfortable. My name is Kida, and that twitchy lout is my ungrateful son, Cage." The lout in question looked thoroughly unimpressed and kept his arms crossed. He at least had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for now. Getting his foot stomped on again by his moomsie's sharp heeled pump was an injury he'd just as soon avoid.

The Ferengi woman's sharp gaze raked over Hust like talons. He seemed, hungry. It was more than his too thin frame, and the deep lines etched in his face. She'd use that, hunger was just another name for greed and a Ferengi knew all about greed. "Please, feel free to order whatever you like, on my tab. After all, I invited you here. It would be rude if I did not see to my guest's needs. I'd offer you a share of our meal, however, I have found most hew-mons find grubs and other delights... distasteful."

Cage inhaled sharply. "You didn't say anything about feeding him. He's got the look of some abandoned, rangy stray animal already." He drew in another sharp gasp, involuntarily as Kida jammed her knobby elbow square in-between two of his rib bones.

"Rule Number 214: Never begin a business negotiation on an empty stomach. Shut your flapping gums, boy, and open your ears while your betters speak. You might learn something." Kida hissed at him, annoyed. She turned back to Hust, with a conciliatory tone, "I do apologize for him. He was spoiled by his father, who should have beat him about the lobes with a switch. But please, have something to eat, a bit to drink, and then we can get down to the business of why I asked you here."

[Gilded Lilly]

Hust looked around in the direction the barman was pointing. Ferengi. It had to be Ferengi. Of all the people in all the planets in the universe, it was the pig-headed, profit-driven Ferengi. But they did pay well... Hust swallowed his pride and made his way stone-faced over to the pair, but still watched his back for signs of knives readying to be driven into it.

As he heard the introductions, he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment, before sitting as he was instructed to. He knew she was observing him closely - he would be, had their positions been reversed. He tried not to give away too many signs, but ultimately the Ferengi instinct could discern most of his feelings. "A pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," he said, looking at her and mostly ignoring Cage. He already didn't like the worm, and if he could make him uncomfortable, all the better.

Hust's stint working here, imprisoned, and dealing with the Ferengi had taught him a great many things, including some of the Rules of Disquisition. Among them was 94 - Females and Finance don't mix - but he cast that aside. She was offering a job. It wasn't his place to question. "Thank you, that's most kind of you," he said before Cage interrupted and spoke out. Hust's gaze hardened as he looked down the squeaking pig, eyeing him deadpan before speaking. "Never allow family to stand in the way of opportunity. Don't fall on the wrong side of that one," he said before ordering a small amount of food and returning his gaze to Kinda. "I believe we had business to discuss?" he said, breaking a smile at her.

He assumed she'd done her homework on his backstory. 194, It's always good business to know about new customers before they walk in your door. As his food arrived, he nodded to the barkeep and began to eat, keeping an eye on the two Ferengi, one of which was probably not so happy about being told off by his own rules. He had to admit, though, he found it nice to see Cage being told off by his own mother. Perhaps this wouldn't be so unbearable...

[Leanna Mazal]

[23rd floor]

As the suspicious McRib didn't seem to be talking, Judy quietly led her companions to one of their rooms. There, she could finally drop the accent.
"Phew! That was exhausting!" Judy exhaled. "I need some coffee."

After setting aside her hat, sunglasses, purse, and cane, she walked over to the coffee machine to get a fix of her precious caffeine.
"Before we dig into Lyric's outfit, do either of you want a cup of joe?" she asked politely.

[Resort - Judy's Suite]

"Thank you for offering, ma'am. I didn't realize coffee had a first name. I don't drink anything, but I fix enough replicators to know some of the beverage things." She glanced around the lushly appointed room, everything seemed state of the art and luxurious. On a nearby shelf was a vase of strongly scented flowers. With a single slim fingertip, she reached out and delicately touched a fragile petal. "Antarian moon blossoms, fresh cut. These are really rare. I guess they spare no expenses here." Her shoulders slumped inward, as she felt even further out of her element.

[23rd Floor - Judy's Suite]

Lea quickly followed Judy and Lyric into the suite that had been designated to the older woman and felt a sense of relief at finally being out of the lift and away from McIntyre. Not that she didn't like the Engineer but now they could get on with helping Lyric then begin the mission properly. It also appeared that she wasn't the only to be relieved as Judy spoke before offering them both coffee.

It sounded like the ideal thing although was tempted on getting something stronger as Lyric was the first to answer Judy and again the Betazoid felt for the Changeling as she spoke.

" It'll be okay Lyric, I promise " she said reassuringly as she then answered Judy's question. " Coffee does sound good but I think I'll go with something stronger such as a glass of red wine".

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942]

Hello everyone!  This is Odelot!  Odelot is done tricking their computers.  There is picture-takers and listeners in the hotel rooms, but they are seeing only a fake you whenever you want.  Two touches makes the fake pictures go on.  One touch makes the fake pictures go off.  Odelot is into their computers, now.  Tell Odelot what you want to know.  Odelot will find it and tell you.  Okay? 

He sighed and smiled.

He had done a good job today.

Lea smiled when she then heard the voice of Odelot through her hidden communicator and had to admire what he had done to not only protect them all but also stop any prying eyes.

Tapping her badge to respond.

Lea to Odelot, thank you for letting us know and I'll be in contact should we need to find out anything

It was definitely going to be useful having this kind of insight to help them with the mission and would certainly contact the Pakled once she needed to know something or find information.

[Judith Eastman]

[Resort - Judy's Suite]

Lyric had followed closely behind Judy for the whole ordeal. She was thankful the woman slipped into character so easily and had a naturally forceful presence. Left to her own devices, the timid engineer would have been stuttering and stammering in a corner, ignored or escorted out by security. Additionally, she was also grateful for the handbag the unusual Klingon Dihiq had dropped, as she clutched onto it like a security blanket.

However, it was little help when she had noticed the Captain snuggled up next to Malcolm. Her already rapidly draining confidence took yet another hit at the sight. A tiny logical part of her knew it was most likely part of the mission. A larger part of her, noted they looked good together, and the Captain was an amazingly intelligent and beautiful woman. She brooded throughout the entire lift ride, and remained silent, despite recognizing "Dr. McRib" as a fellow engineer from the Starbase.

Lyric scuttled into the room after Judy, and following her lead, deposited the handbag on the table with the woman's other assorted accessories. It landed with a small thunk, being rather weighty. It reminded her of when she'd carry a satchel for her engineering tools, and she wondered what sort of tools were inside.

"Thank you for offering, ma'am. I didn't realize coffee had a first name. I don't drink anything, but I fix enough replicators to know some of the beverage things." She glanced around the lushly appointed room, everything seemed state of the art and luxurious. On a nearby shelf was a vase of strongly scented flowers. With a single slim fingertip, she reached out and delicately touched a fragile petal. "Antarian moon blossoms, fresh cut. These are really rare. I guess they spare no expenses here." Her shoulders slumped inward, as she felt even further out of her element.

[Judy's Suite]

"Don't drink anything?" Judy asked, surprised. There were a few species like that in the galaxy (prominently the Jem'Hadar and the Borg), but Lyric looked far too pretty and human to be either of those abominations.

[23rd Floor - Judy's Suite]

Lea quickly followed Judy and Lyric into the suite that had been designated to the older woman and felt a sense of relief at finally being out of the lift and away from McIntyre. Not that she didn't like the Engineer but now they could get on with helping Lyric then begin the mission properly. It also appeared that she wasn't the only to be relieved as Judy spoke before offering them both coffee.

It sounded like the ideal thing although was tempted on getting something stronger as Lyric was the first to answer Judy and again the Betazoid felt for the Changeling as she spoke.

" It'll be okay Lyric, I promise " she said reassuringly as she then answered Judy's question. " Coffee does sound good but I think I'll go with something stronger such as a glass of red wine".

Lea smiled when she then heard the voice of Odelot through her hidden communicator and had to admire what he had done to not only protect them all but also stop any prying eyes.

Tapping her badge to respond.

Lea to Odelot, thank you for letting us know and I'll be in contact should we need to find out anything

It was definitely going to be useful having this kind of insight to help them with the mission and would certainly contact the Pakled once she needed to know something or find information.

"I'll pass on the wine, myself," Judy answered Leanna. "I'm not 20 anymore, and neither is my liver."
The last time she got drunk, she ended up doing things that didn't seem to stop following her. She'd walked away with a conclusion of "never again", and she stuck by it.

"Lyric, can you pass me one of the Turkish coffee baggies in my handbag?" Judy asked. Then, she sneezed loudly. "And while you're at it, could you check my pill tray to see if I missed any meds in the Tuesday PM box? I might've missed an allergy pill."

[Oasis Lobby]

Volskene glared on as the poor excuse of a Klingon stood there, stammering. And then... what in the lava lakes of Tholia? He was leaking. The Tholian had never seen such a thing, but it triggered an even more primal repulsion in his thoughtspace than the typical disdain for humanoids. Almost as if out of his control, Volskene's right limb extended, claws pointed in such a way as to deliver a hard smack directly to the sorry Klingon's face.

Not much of a warrior (Volskene came from the scientific castes, after all), he was certain that the physical outburst would be barely noticed by his opponent. His people preferred to do their warfare from behind a sensor screen, anyway. The Tholian's thoughts wove fierce circles in the immediate aftermath of bright thoughtcolours of ire.

[Lobby]

Dihiq fell to the floor in pain, crying.

[Odelot]

The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942

Odelot beamed as Lea thanked him for his work.

Now that the technical part was finished, he went to the bedroom and plopped down on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling.  It was tiled in polished platinum that was so bright, a person laying in the bed could easily see their reflection within.  The bed was exceedingly plush and comfortable, the sheets unfathomably soft, and Odelot thought there might even be an antigrav generator underneath the bed frame, as he felt lighter than usual while laying upon it.

He might check for that later, as a matter of curiosity.

But right now?

Right now he was luxuriating in the bliss of a job well done.

*********** Basement Level - Computer Core Access Room ************

"We're losing a lot of packets," Sherri declared, peering at her console in confusion.

Dabet, her supervisor, sighed and walked over.  He did not actually have much computer knowledge.  His main role here was to yell at her if anything stopped working, and to demand sexual gratification whenever the mood struck him.  Dabet was a member of the Syndicate that owned The Oasis hotel and The Emerald Enclave resort.

Sherri?  She was just a slave.

Not all members of the Orion Syndicate were actual Orions.  In fact, most of them weren't.  The Syndicate had started millenia ago within the Orion Empire... or so it was rumored.  It had sprung up during an era when the Orion people operated a vast Empire across the stars.  Over thousands of years, the Orion Empire had crumbled into a weak shadow of its former glory.

Its crime syndicates, however, had survived the Empire that they had been built to prey upon.  In modern times, though many Orions still held high-ranking positions within the Syndicate, it was an organization that had spread into dozens of governments, with tens of millions of operatives who worked directly or indirectly towards the Syndicate's interests.

Here on Saiph III, they were near the core of the old Orion Empire-era space.  Most of the people working at this Hotel were actual Orions, outside the jurisdiction of any lawful territory.  Sherri had the benefit of belonging to the old green-skinned masters of the Syndicate, in a place where true-blooded Orions still held power... but she was no master herself.

She knew that there were Orion women who topped from the bottom, running vast segments of the Syndicate while seeming to be slaves.

That was not Sherri.

She was a proper slave, with no rights beyond those she could wheedle for herself at the whims of her betters.

Most Orion women in her position were sexual slaves.  Sherri had endured that 'pleasure' too, serving vast clientele in the past and less frequently in the present, whenever superiors like Dabet wanted to get their rocks off and decided that they had a 'geek girl' craving.  It could have been worse.  Once they'd figured out that she could massage a datanet, they'd put her here in the basement to watch over the computer that managed the hotel.  She was 'out of sight, out of mind' to most of her Orion masters.  Usually.  And the work she did here was vital to their operations.

The Oasis was more than a refuge for wealthy clientele with questionable morals.  It was a data-gathering hub of Syndicate operations.  Everyone here was clandestinely watched and recorded, and the information they gathered from these recordings was funneled to Syndicate masterminds who used it to further Syndicate interests.  There were hundreds of rooms with thousands of clientele, all being monitored and sifted for useful data.

So The Oasis computer and its network was very important... and it wasn't working properly.

"What are you on about," Dabet asked as he arrived at her console station.

Sherri puckered her lips, watching the data reports.  "We're losing 5 percent of the packets coming through the Optical Data Network," she reported.

Dabet nodded, "And?"

Sherri pointed at the display, as though that should matter, "We normally lose only .01% of the packets coming through the network.  That's a 500 fold increase."

Dabet shook his head, as though Sherri was being thick.  "And?  We're still getting all of the data, right?"

Sherri nodded, "Yeah.  The bad packets are re-sent.  But... there's got to be an issue somewhere in the network.  Something is interfering with data transmission."

Dabet's gaze was quarter-lidded, and he clearly had no interest in this problem.  "Is this your way of getting some time outside of the basement?"

Sherri made a scoff of irritation, which drew a sharp look from Dabet.  She held up her hands, "I'm not making up a problem, I swear, okay Dabet?  There's something wrong with the net.  It's working, now.  But if we ignore this, maybe it'll get worse later."

Dabet rolled his eyes and waved her off, "Fine.  Go check it out.  Trace it down.  Do whatever diagnostics you need to do.  But if I find out you're using this as some escape scheme-"

Sherri shook her head, "No, Dabet.  I swear.  I learned my lesson."

Dabet smirked, "Good.  I'd hate to have to line up all the workers again.  We've hired a dozen more since last time."

Sherri paled as she got up and collected her toolkit.  Images flashed through her mind.  Tears welled up in her eyes.

"No.  Never again," she murmured, her voice a haunted whisper.

"Good.  I prefer to keep you to myself down here," Dabet said with a disturbing grin, "Makes the job bearable."

Bile rose in Sherri's throat as she scurried off to the lift, anxious to get far away from Dabet and his threats.

[Aryn Corliss]

[The Oasis - Room 2323]

Alec and Aryn escaped the insanity of the resort entrance, taking the next empty lift to the twenty-third floor. Once they were enclosed in their suite, Alec watched quietly as Aryn walked across the room to the large double doors that opened onto a balcony. She stared out for several minutes before turning back to face the room and Alec and smiling.

You all right? Alec asked quietly.

Yeah. Those memories come at the most inconvenient times, don't they.

They do seem to. I'm sorry, I didn't even consider the possibility.

Aryn shrugged and shook her head. Couldn't be helped. It's fine. She sighed and looked around the opulent room. This is nice. I think we'll have fun here.

She grinned suddenly and ran to the massive bed, abandoning her shoes and jumping up on it and standing in the middle. Queen of the mountain! she declared.

Alec laughed and shook his head, stepping next to the bed and offering his hand. Come here, Queen Nutter. We need to decide what we're doing.

Joykiller, Aryn groused with dark humor.

As she stepped off the bed, taking Alec's assistance, a voice suddenly came through their transponders.

[The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942]

Hello everyone!  This is Odelot!  Odelot is done tricking their computers.  There is picture-takers and listeners in the hotel rooms, but they are seeing only a fake you whenever you want.  Two touches makes the fake pictures go on.  One touch makes the fake pictures go off.  Odelot is into their computers, now.  Tell Odelot what you want to know.  Odelot will find it and tell you.  Okay? 

Aryn and Alec shared a significant look. Aryn tapped her transponder twice and commented, That's handy. He's obviously been hard at work since we got here.

Very quick. At least now we don't have to worry about what we say in our rooms.

So what are we going to do?

We are going to play things mostly by ear. Be tourists, watch the tournament and do what we do best - Listen.